The Obscurati

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The Obscurati Page 10

by Wynn Wagner


  Chapter 10

  “I NEED your help, guys.”

  It was Pierre, and he wasn’t talking inside my head. He was there, in the bedroom. Nobody saw him come in. Nobody felt him come in. He just appeared.

  “Do you ever knock?” I snapped.

  “Sorry, but I have a… situation.”

  “Some bad vampire need killing?” Oberon asked.

  “I wish it were that simple. No, I have a kind of crush on somebody.”

  Oberon and I looked at each other. He shrugged, a kind of “what the fuck?” shrug.

  “I’m not sure….”

  “It’s Hamlet,” Pierre finally said in a whisper.

  You could have scraped my jaw off the floor. Pierre, the second scariest vampire I have ever seen, had a crush on Hamlet. Did he even know what…?

  “Do you know what a crush is?” I asked. “English isn’t your first language, and I think you’re not using the right word.”

  “Try this,” Pierre said. “I think I love him.”

  Okay, that was a crush plus one. It took several minutes for it to sink in.

  “Guys, talk to me.”

  “Ummm….” Oberon stammered.

  “I didn’t know you were gay,” I said. “That bit of news is taking a little time for my brain to process.”

  “I’m not gay,” Pierre said. “At least I didn’t think I was. I’ve never been even slightly attracted to another man before, not in nine hundred years.”

  “So, why Hamlet?”

  “I don’t know, and it is making me nuts. I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s gorgeous, for one thing.”

  Cute, maybe. But gorgeous?

  “We did some martial arts together,” Pierre continued. “He’s really good. Gorgeous and lethal—maybe that’s it. But whatever it is, I think I love him.”

  “Why tell us?” Oberon asked.

  “Because I am terrified.”

  “Afraid of Hamlet, or afraid he might say, ‘no’, or afraid you might be gay?”

  Pierre thought for several minutes. “I need to go,” he said.

  “No, you need to sit there and talk this through,” Oberon said.

  “I’m sorry I barged in unannounced.”

  “Sit!” Oberon said. “You can’t leave just because you get uncomfortable. If you don’t talk about it, it is going to eat away until you are no good to us or the queen.” He added the last part using mind-words.

  Point for Oberon.

  Nine hundred years to come out of the closet. That was a whole new level of late-bloomer.

  “What do I do?” Pierre said.

  “Hamlet is frilly,” I said.

  “I know. I know.”

  “He’s a vampire, and he really likes sex,” Oberon said.

  “So?”

  “Let’s say that you spend time with him. Are you going to be jealous when he wants to have sex with somebody else?”

  “Sex?”

  Pierre hadn’t even thought about having sex with Hamlet. He really was a mess. This was just too weird for me.

  “Sex,” Oberon said. “It is what you do when you love somebody.”

  “I never….”

  “Don’t concentrate on the sex. Just think about jealousy,” Oberon continued with the calmest voice possible. “I don’t think you would ever be able to get Hamlet all to yourself. When he feeds, some human donors just go all over him.”

  “They….”

  “The point is that Hamlet loves that.”

  “How could….” Pierre just drifted off in silence. “Do you two…?”

  “Have sex with Hamlet?” I said. “Once or twice. Oberon and I have an open relationship. He can have sex with anybody he wants, and it doesn’t bother me.”

  I lied. Sometimes it bothers me that Oberon is with any guy who wants it. He needs more sex than I do, according to the unwavering logic in my brain. My heart takes a different view: it sometimes hurts me to see him having sex with so many others. My head and my heart are only a few inches apart, but it isn’t a straight shot between them. He loves me, but it hurts sometimes.

  “I love Mårten,” Oberon said. “I will love him for a thousand years or more, but I also like to fuck. I can have sex several times a day, and Mårten understands that. I would wear him out if I didn’t fuck other men.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Sure,” I lied. “I even like to watch sometimes.”

  “That’s gross,” Pierre whispered.

  “A little,” I said, “but it’s how we take care of their needs. Oberon has needs that I can’t fulfill.”

  “You know how sexual blood-taking is,” Oberon continued. “One thing leads to another.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “You’re a vampire, and vampires can be territorial. I don’t want you to hurt him emotionally or physically. I don’t want you to jump into a situation where you’ll be jealous all the time. I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Would you be embarrassed to be seen out in society with Hamlet?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Hamlet is very effeminate.”

  “Not when he fights,” Pierre said.

  “How’s about this: ask him out. Museum, ballet.”

  “Like a date? Would he go?”

  “If you don’t even ask, the answer will always be ‘no’.”

  “Maybe dancing?”

  “On a first date with Hamlet, don’t do it. He goes absolutely nuts on a dance floor. Try something where you both are seated for the evening. See how he reacts to you. See how you react to him in public.”

  “Hamlet is a handful,” Pierre said. “I know that. I’ve never felt like this before, and I’m scared of it.”

  “So you have a plan?”

  “What do two guys do in bed?”

  “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

  “No, I am pretty sure I’m not ready for it.”

  “Then don’t worry about sex for now,” I told him. “Take him to the ballet. He likes that. Stay away from opera. I already know he won’t like any opera, and a rock concert is too intense for you on a first date.”

  “Date?”

  “Don’t hurt our friend, Pierre. I will come after you if you hurt Hamlet.”

  “I would never… I mean….”

  He thought for several minutes, and then his face changed. “Business,” he said. “We have a rogue vampire working in the Black Forest.”

  “West of here,” Oberon added.

  “He’s been killing people up and down the Rhine River. The queen wants him taken care of. I know where he spends the day, but I can’t get close enough to kill him. For some reason he can sense my presence. How’s your new rifle?”

  “When do you want this guy done?”

  “Tonight if you think you can do it. You’re only going to get one shot, because he’s really smart. I found you a perch that has a small view of the door of his shack.”

  “I need Oberon.”

  “He can’t shoot.”

  “I need Oberon with me. He’s a good spotter, and he knows how to run the sniper calculator you sent me. If I only have one shot, I need all the help I can get.”

  “When can you be ready?”

  “Now. Let’s go.”

  Within a minute, we were in the air. Pierre had us hovering so close to the treetops that I hit a few branches.

  “Ouch.”

  “Shhhh.”

  “See the house?”

  I did. As soon as I nodded, Pierre started floating down to the ground.

  He was right about the perch. I could barely see the house, but “barely” was all I really needed. Over the past month, I had gotten really good with the PSG.

  Oberon got his gear out and was busy testing the wind and the change in altitude between us and the house.

  “You won’t have much time before daylight,” Pierre whispered aloud. He was probabl
y avoiding mind-words on purpose, so Oberon and I followed his lead. I attached the bipod and found a flat area that I could use. The rifle really likes to be fired from the prone position. I could do it squatting or even standing, but I just don’t miss when I am lying flat on the ground.

  Oberon called out some numbers, and I adjusted the sight accordingly. He had the tough job. All I had to do was look in the sight and squeeze the trigger.

  “Silver,” he said.

  “Fuck,” I whispered. I was loaded, but not with silver bullets. “I forgot.”

  Oberon grinned and handed me a magazine that held about five bullets.

  “Five? Are you trying to embarrass the sniper in front of others?”

  Oberon just smiled as I handed him the other magazine. I got one round in the chamber and settled into position. It took me several minutes to get in just the right spot.

  Then came the exciting part. We waited for the vampire to return.

  Minutes turned into an hour.

  “Are you sure he isn’t already inside?”

  “I’m not sure of anything,” Pierre said, looking at the back door with a small telescope. “Wait, I sense him.”

  I looked through the sight. I felt the vampire too. When he came into view, I think he sensed us. Just as he turned back to the door to get inside, I squeezed the trigger. The vampire’s head exploded.

  My first kill as a vampire sniper.

  “Fuck,” Pierre said. “That was amazing.”

  With that, he was in the air. Oberon spotted him near the vampire’s door. Pierre was cleaning up all traces of the vampire. He pulled a small propane torch gizmo from a pocket and pointed it at the vampire’s remains. The body went up with a whoosh of sparkles. Then Pierre waited until the burning vampire turned to ashes.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” I said to Oberon, “but is this just about the weirdest night we’ve ever had?”

  “There was that time in Helsinki.”

  “Oh my God, I forgot about Helsinki. They were so cute too.”

  He hit me with a stick. “Bitch,” Oberon said.

  “Slut.”

  “Guilty.”

  WITHIN a few days after my first kill, a courier brought a package for me. It was another gold bar stamped “999.9,” which I think is the purity, and “CREDIT SUISSE,” which I think is the name of the Swiss bank that made the bar. This was double the size of the bar I had received for hovering over the queen’s building for several nights.

  Being a sniper and executing bad vampires paid a lot more than hovering. Point noted.

  Oberon got his own gold bar, five hundred grams. It was his first.

  “Mine’s bigger,” I said.

  “Size queen. Anyway, I’m hung better.”

  “Slut.”

  “I’ll show you slut.”

  And with that, we were off to the bedroom.

  THERE was a knock at the door. Without waiting, Hamlet walked in. Oberon and I were still fucking, but Hamlet didn’t seem to notice. He just ignored the fact we were busy.

  “Pierre wants to take me to hear a chamber orchestra.”

  “We really need to start locking the door again.”

  “Did you hear me?” Hamlet said.

  “We’re a little busy now.”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry. I’ll wait.”

  And he did. Oberon turned up the tempo and shot within just a minute. Vampires can move blazingly fast. If you’ve never seen a vampire fucking at vampire speeds, it is just a blur.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” Oberon asked as he wiped my ass with a towel.

  “Pierre wants to go out with me.”

  “And?”

  “He’s straight,” Hamlet said.

  “Are you sure?” Oberon asked.

  It was like somebody had hit Hamlet in the head with a rock. “Well….”

  “Maybe he just likes you,” I said. “Maybe he wants to spend time with you when you aren’t doing martial arts.”

  “Maybe he just wants to mess with my head,” he said.

  “How do you feel about it?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I think Pierre is handsome and all, but….”

  “But what? Don’t you like being around him?”

  “I don’t… the only time I’ve been around him is when we’re training or fighting somebody.”

  “So, go out with him,” I said.

  “Hamlet seems disoriented,” Oberon said.

  “He’s on the edge of a major breakthrough.”

  “He’s on the edge of a cliff.”

  “Let’s push him off the cliff,” I said with a grin.

  “Hamlet, love,” Oberon said.

  He looked at my husband.

  “Mårten’s birthday is in a few days.”

  “Oops, I forgot. I’m sorry, Mårten, but I will get you something really nice.”

  “He wants you for his birthday,” Oberon said with a completely straight face.

  “Sex? He can have that anytime he wants. He knows that. But we’re both bottoms.”

  “Hamlet, what Mårten wants is for you to top him.”

  You could actually see all the little brain parts try to line up with this idea. It wasn’t working. Hamlet’s brain was about to explode.

  “Mårten wants you to fuck him,” Oberon said.

  He just stood there with his mouth open. “Quit messing with me, both of you.”

  “It’s the truth,” I said. “Oberon asked what I wanted most for my birthday, and I told him that what I wanted more than anything else in the world was your dick in my ass.”

  “But….”

  “I’ve fucked you twice in the last hundred years, so I think turnabout is—”

  “Gross,” Hamlet said. “I don’t know how….”

  I glided up and started undoing his shirt. Hamlet moved backwards, but I followed. I pinned him up against a wall.

  Hamlet is an awesome fighter. If he’d really wanted me to stop, he could have sent me flying out through the wall.

  “I won’t stay hard,” he said.

  “You let me worry about that,” Oberon said as I peeled away his shirt. Hamlet undid his pants and let them slide to the floor. I held both his hands and pulled him as I walked backwards toward the bed.

  “You are one seriously fucked-up vampire,” Hamlet laughed.

  “Maybe,” I laughed, “but what you are about to give me is what I want for my birthday. It is my birthday, so I get to choose. It is a present that nobody else has ever had.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” Hamlet laughed.

  I fell backwards onto the bed, and I had my arms around Hamlet’s waist, so he followed me. The nelliest vampire in history was about to get butch on my ass.

  “You’re mental,” he said.

  “Certifiably so, but I would love you to fuck me.”

  “My dick isn’t even….”

  He was going to say “hard,” but Oberon had his mouth around Hamlet’s dick, and it slowly came to attention. I lifted my legs and put my heels on Hamlet’s shoulder. Oberon guided Hamlet’s dick into my butt. Hamlet’s technique wasn’t the best, but he was really trying.

  I noticed how Oberon planned on keeping Hamlet hard: he was playing with Hamlet’s ass. One finger, maybe two, kept Hamlet thinking about sex. Hamlet’s dick isn’t his sex organ. He is such a bottom that his dick is just an appendage that shoots cum. His sex organ is his ass.

  How do I know? That’s how I feel. We’re both bottoms.

  After a few minutes, he decided that he liked what was happening. He found a rhythm. I was being fucked by the most complete and total bottom I have ever known, and it felt really good. I put my hands on the back of his neck and pulled his face toward me.

  “You are one sick vampire,” he said with a grin. Maybe this would help me stop being jealous of Oberon.

  “Sick vampire,” I said, “who’s getting a nice ride for his birthday.”

  Hamlet decided to play a little rougher. It is how he likes
to have sex. He doesn’t have the biggest dick in the world, but it is fairly thick. I’m used to Oberon: really long and thin. Hamlet couldn’t go as deep as Oberon, but he was stretching my sphincter.

  “Ummm,” I groaned as Hamlet’s thrusts became harder and faster. His balls slapped up against my butt with a clack each time. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them against the headboard.

  It took him almost forever, but he ended up shooting a fairly big load up my ass.

  Oberon was stroking his own dick.

  “Anybody want this?”

  “The cum or the fuck?” Hamlet said.

  Oberon shrugged. Hamlet pulled himself out of my butt and rolled onto his stomach. He got up on all fours, doggy-style. That was all Oberon needed to see. He was onto Hamlet in a flash and was cumming in his ass just a few seconds later. Oberon was right on the edge, watching Hamlet and me.

  They noticed that I hadn’t shot. Hamlet wanted it, so he took my dick in his mouth. Blow job.

  I was starting to come to my senses, and I realized what I had just done. It was almost like incest. It was like my own brother had just fucked me and was giving me a blow job.

  And that was where it ended. My dick went soft. Maybe I was suddenly grossed out by the whole thing.

  “It’s okay, Hamlet,” I said. “I got everything I wanted.”

  “You’re weird,” he said. “You are completely out-of-your-mind creepy.”

  “I love you too, Hamlet.”

  “That was a one-time deal, right?” he asked.

  “I promise, but you did enjoy it.”

  “It was gross. I will never get the smell off my dick. And don’t you breathe a word of this to anyone, not out loud or using mind words. I know where you sleep, and I can whup your ass nine ways to Sunday.”

  Oberon just shook his head and smiled.

  Chapter 11

  THE night of Hamlet’s big date with Pierre was a trial. Oberon and I fed in the library. Menz was there, reading.

  “Big night,” he said.

  I guess we looked puzzled.

  “Hamlet and Pierre.”

  “Oh, right,” I said. “I almost forgot.”

  “Bullshit,” Oberon laughed. “Hamlet has been freaking out for an entire week.”

  “Oh my….”

  Hamlet walked in. He was wearing a deep blue Italian suit, a pastel shirt, and an actual tie. He didn’t look really formal. It certainly wasn’t a Wall Street or accountant look. He was actually stunning, like he had just stepped out of the pages of some fashion magazine or out of a limousine in Monte Carlo.

 

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