Bloodlines: Currents

by Mechele Armstrong

  “That’s bull.”

  “Nah. The bull’s over there.” Nathan’s face turned playful as he waggled his fingers in the pasture’s general direction. In the dying light of the day, he was beautiful. The sun cast him in gold embers that looked as if they would consume him, setting off the natural tanned glow of his skin.

  Henri couldn’t find his breath. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Nathan and didn’t want to even if he could.

  Nathan’s face changed from joyous and playful to seductive. The look he gave was pure “Come fuck with me.” And Henri was only too happy to oblige. He couldn’t resist him, not with that look on his face.

  The beast clamored for Henri to take him. To set his seal upon Nathan’s being.

  He’d take a kiss. Nothing more for now. He couldn’t deny himself that.

  They each took steps toward the other to meet in a frenzied mating of lips. Arms and bodies slid together in a melding. Even as their bodies connected, the dipper fell to the ground, hitting a rock with a resounding clang.

  Nathan tasted of sun-ripened berries with cream. Henri could barely keep pace with Nathan’s mouth as he plundered it. Their tongues waged a war that both would win.

  Henri’s heart pounded, his breath coming in raging gasps.

  Nathan clasped his butt in both hands, pulling Henri even closer to his hot body. Henri’s cock rubbed against Nathan with a side-to-side motion. Nathan’s hard cock rubbed across Henri in a similar fashion.

  The contact inflamed Henri.

  He reached one hand down to mimic Nathan’s grasp, putting his hands on Nathan’s ass. The other hand reached up to tangle and play in that golden mane of hair. It was thick and soft under his exploring fingers.

  Henri’s hand roamed over Nathan’s ass to his lean hips, before pressing around to the front where Nathan’s breeches had tented. He let out a soft sigh. Henri’s pointer finger barely skimmed down Nathan’s cock. It jerked as did Nathan’s whole body.

  “Grasp it, damn you.”

  When Henri took it in hand as Nathan had ordered, Nathan moaned. The low sound made Henri’s hand clutch harder. His hand scraped across Nathan’s engorged cock through the material of his pants. “So thick and hard.”

  “For you.”

  Henri’s head came up at what Nathan had revealed. Nathan’s lips swiped in to kiss him tentatively, then deeper. Henri kept his hand squeezing and touching.

  A dog barked in the distance as Henri heard a horse’s steady footsteps.

  Despite the rage welling up in him at being interrupted, Henri pushed against Nathan’s broad shoulders with one hand, releasing his cock with the other. “Nathan.”

  “What?” Nathan looked dazed, his eyes dark and hazy.

  “Someone’s coming. We have to stop.” Not that he wanted to. But he’d come close to taking Nathan as if he were an animal out in the yard over the fence he’d thought about earlier. That was not how their first sexual encounter should go. Something about this man made him abandon all logic and sense, which were his prized possessions.

  “So? Let them come.” Nathan tried to pull him back into the embrace. And damn him, he wanted to go.

  His beast reared up. Henri clenched his hands by his side, pulling completely away from Nathan.

  “No.” Henri frowned at Nathan’s tightening face. Nathan was getting angry at him. “Nathan, you...we...you’re in danger. You can’t let people see you do this. They don’t understand.” Being a vampire and bisexual, he’d learned when to flaunt and when to hide years ago. Nathan was young. He hadn’t learned that sometimes keeping things quiet meant you got to live another day.

  Nathan rolled his eyes. “I don’t care.”

  “I do. People do not understand two men together. Especially here.” Nathan started to speak, but Henri waved him off. “I’m not saying it’s right. Or fair. But that’s the way it is right now. And sometimes it’s dangerous for those who can’t understand to see you doing things like this.”

  “I don’t care what people think of me.”

  Henri shook his head. “I know. I usually don’t either, when I’m back in Paris. But in dangerous times and places, you need to be wary.” Maybe using Paris as being more open and liberal would convince Nathan to leave his smaller hamlet. “In Paris, things are a little less conservative than here. Much less conservative.” Thankfully, the Victorian age was winding down. It would be interesting to see what the next millennium brought with it.

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It does when there are dangers where you are.”

  “Jacques isn’t a big deal. He’s mostly talk. He won’t hurt me. Nor will anyone else here.”

  And Jacques’s boss is, and he will. “There’s a lot more to it than that. More to Jacques than what you know.”

  “I wish you’d tell me, instead of being cryptic.”

  “All in good...”

  “Time.” Nathan picked up the dipper from the ground. “I know. All in good time.” He threw the dipper into the bucket and stalked off toward the barn. Henri pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going well.

  The horse passed by the house without stopping. Henri didn’t recognize the rider. Dammit. If only the rider had taken another route, then they wouldn’t have been interrupted.

  He’d leave Nathan to stew over things for a while. He was hungry. Tonight, he would have to hunt.

  * * * * *

  Nathan wiped his face with a wet cloth before walking over to kick a metal piece to a buggy his parents owned. “Ow. Shit. Ow.” He rubbed his throbbing appendage. Served him right for getting all worked up.

  His cock still rested hard between his thighs, reminding him of just how worked up he’d gotten. The man’s tongue had been like molten lava in his mouth. Had they completed, Mt. Vesuvius wouldn’t have been able to compete with the explosion.

  But it wasn’t only that which had him bothered.

  He was tempted by Henri. Tempted to fuck him, to do all the things that he and Jacques had done, and those they’d never progressed to, which he almost wasn’t sure men really did with each other. Henri turned him on as no one ever had.

  Henri tempted him in other ways.

  Henri’d offered to show him the world.

  How many times had he and his mother discussed history and the other countries out there beyond France? His favorite book, a rarity in these times for people to own, was a book of the world. It talked about countries and had maps.

  He’d often taken that book into the barn and lay on the floor for hours looking, touching and dreaming.

  Nathan might have lived near the same village all his life with the same people, but his mind had often taken journeys to far-off places that he’d read or heard about.

  Henri had been to them. Not that they’d talked about Henri’s history all that much, but he was worldly. A couple of times his French had sounded halting, as if it wasn’t his first language. He most definitely didn’t look French, not with his dark skin.

  Could Nathan leave this place behind, though?

  His parents had worked so hard to make it here.

  If he abandoned their farm, hadn’t they worked for nothing?

  He surveyed the barn, craning his head to peer from top to bottom. So many memories. And if he left, he’d be leaving them as well as what they’d struggled for.

  Respectability.

  That was what the farm was all about. What living in such a remote place had sought.

  They’d both come out of poverty and perilous situations. Nathan had heard the stories once he’d been old enough. They’d wanted better lives for themselves and ultimately, their child.

  His hand pushed back his messed up, wet hair.

  His mother wouldn’t have wanted him to sacrifice himself to uphold his parent’s memory or continue what they’d found to be important. Up until the last year, she’d encouraged him to be true to himself. And it had only stopped then because of her fear. She’d known his sexuality wasn’t of th
e norm. She’d never discouraged him from pursuing anything and everything he wanted. That wouldn’t have changed.

  What did he care about?

  Henri had asked. Only one thing had come to mind at the first question.

  Being with Henri.

  Which was ludicrous. He hadn’t known the man long enough to want this. But he did. It was a dangerous thing. Look where it had taken him with Jacques. Of course, Jacques and Henri couldn’t be more different.

  With a purposeful step, he strode from the barn to seek out the object of his desires. Darkness had overtaken the sun. It was hard to see, but Nathan managed to find the house.

  He pushed open the door. “Boy, it’s... Henri?” Henri wasn’t in sight.

  No one answered his calls.

  “Henri?”

  He grabbed a lantern from its usual place and lit it. Swallowing heavily, he searched. It hadn’t gone well outside, but Henri couldn’t have left. No, his bags sat in his room. He’d gone out.

  At night. To take a stroll.

  The man had odd habits.

  You go out at night.

  Not as late or for as long as Henri did. And Nathan took a lantern with him unless the moon was bright, or it was a short trip.

  He walked into his room. The book he’d been thinking about earlier sat up on his dresser between two boxes.

  He set the lantern down and pulled the book out. Sinking to the floor, he ran his fingers over the smooth, embossed cover.

  He opened it gently, always careful with it.

  On the cover read a handwritten inscription:

  To Maddy and Francois,

  Life is but a journey. Good luck.

  HB.

  HB. Nathan’s hand touched the gentle script. HB. Henri Baptiste. He’d read the inscription for years, but never knew where the book had come from.

  * * * * *

  Jacques crept under cover of night, plodding along the rocky landscape. He held a dimly-lit lantern in one hand.

  His wagon rested back at the path, pulled over in the woods. He couldn’t have people seeing him out like this.

  Stepping in a hole, he cursed the rugged landscape. He shook his ankle to clear out the pain. Then, he cursed Nathan for making all of this necessary.

  Yes, the blond man was going to pay for every slight he’d ever committed. That brought out Jacques’s good humor.

  Approaching a fence, he grinned. Monsieur and Madame Beauchamp’s farm. Their goats and sheep rustled nearby in the pasture. One of the goats bleated nervously, followed by the “bah” of a sheep. They knew something was out there. And it was the last thing they’d ever know.

  His other hand carted a large bag of grain. A special bag.

  He found the animals bunched up in a corner far away from the house. There weren’t any candles lit inside. The Beauchamps were sound asleep by now.

  Jacques tossed the seeds in the trough and on the ground at the animals’ feet. What didn’t get consumed tonight would be by early morning before their owners came to feed them. Most of them would get sick and perish from this midnight snack.

  There would be nothing to explain their deaths. No wounds that would indicate an animal attack. That was the most usual cause of mass death for livestock. And there would be too many of them for natural causes.

  Without explanation, a reason behind their deaths would be looked for.

  And when helped along by him, the villagers would find their culprit.

  Nathan.

  He scurried back to the wagon he’d hidden in the darkness. Driving quickly, he neared the Widow Badeau’s. Stopping the horses, he bounded from the wagon, leaving it several meters away.

  He’d probably only have time to hit these two places. So he’d better make every minute count. And he’d better not get caught. There was more where this came from if these two hits weren’t sufficient to create the reaction he wanted.

  He grabbed another bag of grain and also, a piece of meat, both laced with poison.

  The dog barked and sprang up to him first. “Napoleon,” he crooned. The dog quieted as he recognized Jacques’s voice. Jacques had done work for the dear widow a month ago. The dog knew him well, but, unfortunately for the dog, not wisely. Napoleon liked everyone. Jacques dropped the meat from his hand on the ground in front of the sheep dog, who lapped it up. Within a few seconds, the dog lay down, panting and whining.

  Jacques ran for the pen of goats, scattering the grain in the trough and on the ground as he’d done at the Beauchamp’s. He made sure the stupid animals were aware of it falling among them.

  Reaching his wagon, he tossed the empty sack in the back with the first one. Settling in the seat, he cackled as he cracked the whip to get the horses moving.

  He’d done it.

  Bellario had secured the poison from his sources. He’d balked at first, but Jacques had told him this was the only way to make sure they got Nathan where they wanted him.

  Nathan would be blamed for all of this. Jacques would see to it. He’d already laid the foundation.

  And Nathan wouldn’t survive. Fuck that.

  If Bellario tried to save the bastard, Jacques could turn the people on to Bellario’s secrets. After all, they’d believed Nathan a demon when he wasn’t one. Why wouldn’t they believe Bellario was a creature of the night?

  Jacques would sic the whole angry horde on Nathan. There’d be nothing left for Bellario to turn. He’d see to that.

  Chapter Six

  Henri’s eyes searched the night, capturing all within his gaze. Snuffling noises indicated an animal foraging to his right. To his left, an insect warbled a night song. Above, the stars twinkled merrily beside a scant moon.

  He’d come to a conclusion.

  There was nowhere to eat in this fucking hamlet. There were no prostitutes that he could find at work anywhere. He wasn’t sure where to look for the other ways he fed and wasn’t sure they existed in this small town life.

  His stomach rumbled. He patted it, trying to ease the ache.

  Time was running out. He needed to consume blood, or else the thinning control he had on his beast would fade, and his animal would rise. The whole town would be in jeopardy then. Perhaps, even neighboring ones. How many had he had gone through last time before his consciousness had come back? Best not to even think about it.

  I will find a meal.

  The goats and cows on Nathan’s farm were starting to look damn good.

  The beast reared up, bellowing that there was food right in front of him in all the sleeping houses in the village and surroundings. Not to mention the man who consumed his thoughts. No one’s blood would taste as good as Nathan’s right now. And he could take it and more.

  Animal blood wasn’t as good or nutritious as human blood for vampires. He could take blood from animals and had before. Hell, he’d had rats during a desperate time in his life. But it didn’t sate him as well, leaving the beast the chance to rise.

  People didn’t make good prey. They were easy. Too damn easy. That was why he’d given up the hunt so many years before. But, he still needed their blood.

  He snapped a branch from a tree. He’d go back to Nathan’s and take some animal blood. It would help fight his hunger a little, but would it be enough?

  Scents billowed to him on the night breezes as he stalked back home. Henri drew them all into his nose, sniffing wantonly. Human scents. Animal scents. Passing by one place, something bitter struck him. He passed by that one as quickly as he could. Then, an interesting smell reached him.

  Blood.

  The copious scent tickled his nostrils and his fancy, luring him. There was something else, a warring sensation of who lurked with the blood. He’d sensed it since he’d come to Madeleine’s.

  As if he were a fish on the end of a line, he followed the intoxicating smell. It grew stronger and stronger until he was standing in a clearing.

  The second thing he’d sensed also strengthened in magnitude until it was beating at his skull. He blocked t
he wings battering his mind.

  A man knelt by another man. The second man lay on the ground, his throat slashed and leaking blood.

  The first suckled greedily.

  “Hello, Bellario.” He might be wrong, but this was the strongest vampire presence he’d sensed nearby, so Bellario was a logical conclusion.

  The man didn’t flinch, nor even turn to acknowledge Henri’s presence. He’d felt him approach just as Henri had felt him standing here. “Hello, Henri.” Bellario did look up then, his mouth full of red. “I had no idea you’d join me tonight. I would have gotten more of a meal.” He openly surveyed Henri. “I thought you’d be bigger.”

  “I’m not joining you.” Henri took two steps before he stopped himself from getting too close to the blood that beckoned. The coppery scent was singing a siren’s song he couldn’t resist. He wanted to fight, but the pull was immense. It had been too long since he’d eaten. He should have taken something before now, even if it was animal blood. “And I could say the same about you.”

  He sized up his opponent. Bellario was tall for a man of the time, a couple of inches taller than Henri. He was muscular and fit. His psyche flew out of him, seeking entrance to Henri’s mind. Bellario had strength. He’d been around a while. Power hunger seeped out of every pore of Bellario’s body, as carnal hungers most likely seeped from Henri.

  “Pity.” Bellario ducked his head, eyes still on Henri, licking a smear of blood. “It’s still warm.” He curled his tongue around the liquid before closing his mouth.

  Henri’s knees trembled with the force of not falling to them as he fought the urge to take the kill from Bellario. Attack him. Seize it. His beast raged against the stupidity of not claiming the meal. The human’s already dead. You didn’t kill him, what does it matter? And you’re hungry. Feed me! Forcing back his pooling saliva from his mouth, Henri snarled. “I want you to leave Nathan alone.”

  “Ah. There it is. The threat to leave alone the boy already in the game.” He tsked. “I expected better from you. Something more original at least. I thought you’d be a challenge.”