by Sahara Kelly
Looking around him now, he realized it was the first time he’d awoken in a proper suite of rooms in more years than he could remember.
He had certainly found a welcome at St. Chesswell. And possibly a friend in Sir Sidney. Maybe there was still a miracle left in the world with his name on it. And maybe it was time to go and find out.
- - - -
“That will be all, Cheverly. We will have a tea tray later. Nothing else.”
Sidney ignored the frown on his butler’s face. He was dismissing the entire concept of dinner and offending not only Cheverly but probably his kitchen staff as well. He didn’t care. This night was important, too important to be concerned about mundane issues such as food.
“I take it that meals are unnecessary?” Sidney glanced across at the man leaning casually against the mantelpiece, to see him nod his head in agreement.
“Very well. Please be seated and we shall talk.” He waited. “I’ll get a crick in my neck if you don’t sit down. Stop looking so nervous, Adrian. There is much to discuss and some of it might be to your liking.”
With a shrug, Adrian sat in the matching chair and crossed his long legs. The clothes Sidney had obtained were a good enough fit, clinging to long muscular thighs and revealing the strength of the body they covered. Adrian was a very good-looking man indeed.
His black basilisk eyes remained fixed on Sidney’s face, and Sidney was in no doubt that Adrian needed to talk--and to listen. There was still pain and suffering in those dark depths, but perhaps there was a flicker of hope too. Or maybe Sidney was just reading his own wishes into Adrian’s gaze.
He marshaled his thoughts. “You have been in this condition for ten years now, am I correct?”
“Yes.” A short word of agreement, clipped and precise.
Good. “And you were…made…if I may use that expression, by a woman?”
“Yes.”
“Then we shall assume that she was an experienced vampire. One who knew how much of your blood to take, and how much to leave.”
Adrian shook his head. “That is an unwarranted assumption. I remain convinced to this day that had she not been interrupted, she would have killed me. After I had…after we had…” Adrian’s voice faltered.
“Come along, man. These are facts we must discuss. I am no prurient busybody. I am a scientist. Tell me as much as you can--use whatever words you must--but tell me.”
Adrian looked away. “If you must have it all, then so be it.” He swallowed. “After we had fucked and I had spent my seed within her, she did not break away. She did not release me, but continued to feed, to drain me. I became lightheaded, my vision blurred and I thought I would vomit. That’s when I heard something--noise, people--I don’t recall exactly.”
He shifted in his chair and glanced at Sidney as if asking for permission to continue. Sidney tried to pour encouragement into his expression, but said nothing.
“I collapsed and everything dimmed around me. I-I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think--I wanted darkness, craved it actually.”
Unconsciously his fingers scrabbled against the arms of the chair, and Sidney had no difficulty recognizing the crawling movement.
“I managed to creep into the shadows of the forest. I don’t know how long I stayed there, but eventually I recovered into the beast you see before you.” His lips curled in self-disgust.
Sidney stroked his chin. “So you were, in effect, a mistake?”
Adrian snorted. “Some mistake. But probably…yes.” He licked his lips. “I survived. I don’t know how or why, but I do remember finding prey in the forest.” Another grimace of self-disgust. “I always enjoyed a good meal of fresh-caught game. I do not enjoy it this way.”
Sidney waved his hand dismissively. “Look, you survived. You did what you had to do. Tell me of now. How often do you feed? How do you feel? And most importantly, tell me about human blood and how it affects you.”
Adrian turned his head and Sidney caught his breath for a moment at the translucent beauty of the young man’s features. He must always have been handsome, but his new condition had brought a luminous and incandescent glow to his face.
For the only time in his life that Sidney could ever remember, his cock stirred in response to the presence of a man. The overwhelming awareness of Adrian as a sensual spirit bypassed the concepts of mortal sexuality.
Adrian was a walking invitation to sin.
And Sidney Chesswell was about to make an outrageously sinful suggestion.
Chapter Three
“What?” Adrian’s jaw dropped and he stared at Sir Sidney.
“I want you to feed. From me.”
Adrian shook his head, speechless for a few moments.
“I’m serious, Adrian.” The old man leaned forward. “You clearly cannot take much blood from me--I don’t have lots to spare. And you can only do this once, since I am not willing to die beneath your fangs.” He pierced Adrian with an intense stare. “I am offering you a chance to sate the hunger you feel. And don’t tell me you don’t feel it right now. I can sense it.”
Adrian gulped. “How? How can you sense my…my need?”
Sidney leaned back in his chair again, relaxing a little. “I’m not sure.” He paused as if in thought. “Do you know who St. Chesswell is?”
Adrian shook his head.
“Well, St. Chesswell was a monk who lived in this place centuries ago. It was rumored that his interests were not quite as ecclesiastic as they should’ve been, and his studies got him exiled to a small hut next to the Chyne that bears his name.”
“His studies?”
Sidney chuckled. “Yes. He studied the black arts, which wouldn’t have gone over very well with his Abbott, I should imagine.”
“I should think not.”
“St. Chesswell wasn’t a necromancer, however. He simply had an insatiable curiosity into the mysteries of nature, and thought the darker side of people’s beliefs had just as much right to be part of his studies as did the teachings of his Church.”
“A man of great perspicacity.” Adrian’s interest was caught and held by this strange little story.
“Indeed. Well, as the tale goes, one stormy night the earth moved and released a great evil from the depths of the Chyne. The local villagers became its prey and they died, felled where they stood by the creature’s foul breath.” Sidney paused.
“What sort of creature?” Adrian breathed out the question.
Sidney grinned. “Great tale, isn’t it? Don’t take it literally. Anyway, to continue--St. Chesswell was among the few unaffected and he managed to cause a landslide which blocked the creature’s stronghold, entrapping it beneath the surface once again and saving the community.” He chuckled. “Who were appropriately grateful and sanctified the poor man after his death. Lot of good it did him at that point.”
Adrian couldn’t stop the smile that followed Sir Sidney’s tale. It was a rather rusty smile, and for a second Adrian thought perhaps he’d forgotten how, but no. There it was. And it felt good.
“Well, the point of all this local lore is that St. Chesswell’s Chyne developed a reputation for its association with the mystical, the magical--and even the satanic--from that point onwards. We Chesswells have amassed an interesting library on the dark arts over our generations as stewards of the Chyne, and your humble servant is no exception.” He graciously inclined his head.
“So you are knowledgeable about these matters in a way unusual to men of your…your position?” Adrian struggled for the right word.
Sidney shrugged. “It’s more than a hobby for me. More than a pastime. I am no magician, Adrian. I am a scientist with a thirst for information. And I too have a boundless curiosity.”
He straightened in his chair. “I have read much of your kind. Of your needs, your hungers, your desires. I have dismissed that which I consider to be hyperbole. But there remains a fundamental truth--you exist. You move as a mortal moves, think as a mortal thinks, do all the things mortals do, with ver
y few exceptions. And when you hunger--your eyes reveal your need.”
Adrian blinked. “They do?”
Sidney nodded. “Yes.” He stood, and Adrian stood with him, some reflex making him responsive to this gentle man with his amazing mind. “So that is why I am suggesting you feed from me.” He reached for his cravat and tugged it loose, baring the soft and lightly tanned skin of his neck. “There is one other thing.”
“What is that?” Adrian’s head was buzzing a little. The scent of Sir Sidney’s blood was too near, and his hunger erupted within him like the red flames of an inferno. Truly his need was burgeoning, helped along by this unusual conversation.
“This feeding will, I believe, bind us to each other in a way unique to your kind.” Sidney reached out a hand and rested it on Adrian’s shoulder. “I would ask that once you are sated you give serious consideration to staying here.” Sidney paused and moved closer, tilting his head and revealing the throbbing pulse at the base of his neck.
“Stay here, Adrian. Stay with me. As my son.”
- - - -
Sidney watched Adrian’s face as the impact of his words sank home.
The hunger he knew was there remained, but became tempered with surprise, astonishment and finally--oddly to Sidney’s way of thinking--grief.
The black eyes filled with glistening tears and Adrian swallowed, still staring deep into Sidney’s face. “Do you know what you are saying? What you offer?”
Sidney nodded calmly. “Yes. I have spent the last hours thinking of nothing else. I am alone, Adrian. As alone as you--albeit for different reasons. I have need of an heir to secure St. Chesswell for the future. I can offer you sanctuary here, and a name. A life of sorts.”
He sucked in a breath. “It will not be all to your advantage. I ask that you be a son to me, and also a companion. We understand much about each other that the outside world would not comprehend. I wish to explore your condition. I shall possibly ask you for your blood. I have some ideas, some things I would like to try.”
Sidney tried to gauge Adrian’s response. “Will you permit this?”
The younger man tore his gaze from Sidney’s face and turned, stalking across the room and running his hands distractedly through his hair. “I don’t know what to say. How to answer.”
“’Tis simple.” Sidney responded quietly. “Say yes.”
“Have you thought this through?” Adrian could not, apparently, say such a small word without qualifying his response.
“I have.” And indeed Sidney had. The pieces had fallen into place very neatly--almost as if designed by an unseen hand to complete the puzzle that was Adrian’s and Sidney’s lives.
“I shall announce that my wife has passed away in Europe and her dying wish was to reunite me with my son. I shall produce you and show you off with all due joy and fanfare. I shall also mention that you have contracted an unfortunate ailment that makes you susceptible to the damaging effects of sunlight. Thus you will be excused daytime appearances. I shall be congratulated, you will be lionized for a time, and probably fussed over by those who believe that all evil emanates from Europe.” He grinned. “We can thank Napoleon for that.”
Adrian nodded. “’Tis a well-thought-out notion.”
“And from now on, I shall devote my researches to your condition, in an attempt to resolve it.”
“Resolve it?”
Sidney remained focused on Adrian. “Yes. When we met on the beach you asked me if I knew how you could die. I don’t. I would rather help you live. But if I cannot do that, I shall attempt to at least answer your original question. I shall try to find out if there is any way for you to die. Fair enough?”
He extended his hand to Adrian, hoping and praying that his argument, simple and succinct as it was, would be sufficient to persuade this…this vampire…to become his son.
In making this offer, Sidney Chesswell had finally acknowledged his own loneliness and the emptiness of his life. He did not feed on the blood of helpless victims like Adrian. He fed on the knowledge in ancient tomes instead. Neither man was complete, both men needed more than the sustenance they received.
Sidney could see how clearly they needed each other. Could Adrian see the same thing?
When Adrian’s hand came out to clasp Sidney’s with cool fingers, Sidney heaved a sigh of relief.
Adrian had seen the opportunities that lay ahead for both of them, and recognized the benefits of Sidney’s plan.
With a firm handshake, the matter was sealed and two futures were forever altered from their original destinies.
Now it was time to undergo the first experiment.
It was time for Adrian to feed.
- - - -
The world spun dizzily in Adrian’s head as he stared at this man who was offering so much more than Adrian ever imagined he’d possess again.
A name. A life.
It would not be easy, nowhere near as easy as Sir Sidney made it sound. Adrian knew it and knew that the other man knew it. But the fact that he was willing to try, to want this enough to create the whole crazy scheme--something stirred inside Adrian’s heart and made him long to be the son Sidney Chesswell deserved.
“You should feed now, Adrian. While the hunger is still within your control.” Sidney’s voice was businesslike. “Am I correct that this is so? You can control this urge up to a certain point?”
Adrian nodded. “Yes. I need this sustenance no more than three or four times a year. That is the bare minimum for my survival. I would like it more, of course, but I dare not indulge those wants. If I wait too long then my thirst becomes uncontrollable and I take…too much.” He closed his eyes for a moment, praying once more that he’d never actually killed.
“There are so many things I do not know, Sir Sidney.” It was an anguished cry from his soul, and Sidney recognized it as such, acknowledging it with a fleeting brush of his hand against Adrian’s arm.
Adrian felt comforted. “I should warn you that feeding seems to be allied with…with certain responses…physical responses…” He stumbled.
Sidney was unconcerned. “Yes, my reading material made the connection between feeding and sexual arousal quite pointedly on many occasions. Do not be disturbed, Adrian. We are both men. We have both been aroused on many occasions, and will be again, God willing.” He smiled ruefully. “Although you probably more than me at this point.”
Adrian felt an answering smile curve his mouth. “You are quite sophisticated about this.”
“On the contrary, I am scared. But I trust you. Don’t ask me why. You are a vampire who washed ashore on my beach. And soon you will be my son. There are many who would call me insane, and they may be right. I have no idea. I do trust my instincts, however, and I have very strong instincts where you are concerned.”
He looked intently at Adrian once more, then turned away and tilted his head to one side, offering his neck. “I do not believe you will harm me. And if you feel the need to satisfy your arousal yourself, I shall understand. What happens here in this moment will never pass beyond the door.”
Adrian could no longer resist the need welling through him, the scent of Sir Sidney’s blood was strong as was the sound of his heart beating. The slight sting of his fangs as they lengthened across his lips warned Adrian that the time was near.
“Will it hurt much, d’you think?”
The quiet question pierced Adrian to his heart, for in truth he had no answer. “I do not know.” He whispered the words around his fangs then closed the distance between them, grasping Sir Sidney’s shoulders with his hands and bending forward.
It took no time at all to pierce the soft skin and find the hot pulse of blood that flowed luxuriously over his tongue and into his body. There was scarcely a jump from the man whose neck he was biting, so a part of Adrian’s mind deduced there was little if any pain involved.
And oh what joy. To feed from an aware, warm, willing body. To sense much of that person’s essence as their life fluids spurted freely
into his mouth.
Adrian felt Sir Sidney--his warmth, his charm, his pain and his heartbreak. All the emotions flooded into Adrian as he drank. The sexual arousal was there, his cock hard beneath his breeches, but it was manageable. Had he been feeding from a woman things might be different. But tonight--well, it was manageable.
Heat seeped into Adrian’s muscles, vitality wound its way through his body, and the simple pleasure of quenching a savage thirst bathed him in its glow. Sir Sidney was a good man, and that goodness flavored his blood, making it all the sweeter to Adrian’s jaded tongue.
Finally, Sidney shivered a little, and Adrian knew he’d taken enough. He quickly slid his fangs free and watched as the droplets of blood began to congeal. He kept a firm grip on Sir Sidney, sliding one arm around the man and holding him tight, just in case there were any unexpected after-effects.
But none came. “I am all right. You can let me go.” Sir Sidney’s voice was weak, but not fainting, and he moved away, standing upright on his own two feet, although holding on to the back of his chair for a moment or two as if to get his balance. “How about you? Have you quenched your thirst sufficiently? Do you need to…er…”
Sir Sidney’s fingers cupped an imaginary cock and he looked embarrassed.
Adrian smiled. “Later. For now I am content to be well-nourished.” He looked at Sir Sidney, knowing he was about to take the biggest step of his life.
“Thank you. Father.”
Chapter Four
The following months were a joy for both men. The announcement that the long-lost heir to the St. Chesswell estate had been found and reunited with his father had brought much local interest and gossip, as Sidney had predicted.
The ladies of the area found Adrian to be fascinatingly handsome, but after the initial surprise and newness of his presence wore off, they returned to their pursuit of others more sociable and inclined to flirt.
