"Ry'n ni'n gadael yfory."
I listened intently, hoping for maybe a familiar word. I didn't know the accents of the men around me. When we stopped, everything grew quiet. Instinct told me we weren't alone, but no one was speaking. A moment later, we continued on. Down more steps, then another tunnel. Finally the space opened up and voices filled the air. More of the same language, though there were other languages mixed in. I thought I heard someone speaking English, but before I could figure out what they'd said, I was carried into another place. Without regard to whether the impact would break my arms, I was dropped onto what I assumed was a bed. Then a door closed.
"Beth yw'ch enw?"
I had thought I was alone. I stayed quiet.
"Do you speak English, then? I know you are awake."
"I am."
"Ah, so you do speak English. What is your name?"
"Lance."
The blindfold was removed and I blinked my eyes open. Soft light filled the room, but it wasn't overwhelming. I looked up and over. A young man stood beside the bed, smiling down at me. He tossed the blindfold to the side.
"I'm going to release your arms. It would be in your best interests to cooperate and not fight me when you are free."
I had no intentions of fighting. I'd need my strength if I wanted to get out of here alive. I nodded. He bent down and unlocked the restraints on my wrists, then set them on the bed. I hissed and ground my teeth together tightly as I moved my arms. Bright, sharp pain bolted through them, from my shoulders to my wrists. I rolled onto my back and blew out a breath, working through the tense aches to get the blood moving freely again.
"Who are you?” I asked the young man as he poured a glass of something clear from a bottle nearby.
He handed me the glass. “It's water.” I sat up and took it from him, giving it a cautious sniff. It didn't smell odd. In fact, it smelled clean and clear. “I am Dai. One of Master Triarius’ human servants."
Human? I glanced back up at him. “You're human?"
Dai nodded. “A ghoul, but still somewhat human."
"I don't suppose you're going to tell me where I am then."
The smile he gave me wasn't entirely pleasant. “You already know the answer.” He pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against and wandered over to a stone table. “Tell me,” he said, finger tracing a grove in the gray stone. “What were you hoping to do with the information he gave you? Did you hope to prove we existed, even though the world knows we do? Did you hope to find clues to our whereabouts so your governments could assist the Romanorum in finding us?"
"No. To all of it. I only wished to dispel the rumors about the Brotherhood—about what goes on down here."
Dai snorted. “Dispel? Oh, I can assure you that the rumors are very much true, Mr. Shaw.” I stared at him. “You are wondering how I know your last name.” I nodded. “Who do you think set up the interview, Mr. Shaw? Do you honestly think Triarius did it himself?"
"Why did you set it up then?"
"Because you have been a thorn in our side for far too long. Years of speaking with our kind, broadcasting information. Even venerating those who've done the Romanorum justice by serving it without question. By helping them, you are a threat to us."
"What's going to happen to me?"
Dai shrugged and turned for the door. “That is for my master to decide."
"Wait! Where are you going?"
"We are going to dinner. Come."
* * * *
The sight I walked in on was something out Dante's Hell. Blood flowed as freely as the wine, and the diners feasted on one another more than the banquet set out before them. A single, long table made of polished stone dominated the room. At its head, Triarius sat, draped in shadows. Candle flames danced across his face, sparking off the silver mask. His pale gaze swept slowly over the others, then rested on me.
"You wished to know more about our kind, Mr. Shaw.” Triarius gestured toward the dinner guests. “Join us. Enjoy the veritable feast our cooks have prepared."
I took a deep breath and a cautionary step forward. Only a few looked my way; most simply ignored me. I was grateful for that as I took my place at the only empty place at the table—beside Triarius. He gave me a bit of a smile before lifting a crystal goblet. A moment later, a servant set another matching goblet before me. I stared into the dark, reddish purple liquid.
"It is only wine."
"I take it you no longer enjoy human food?” I asked, looking up at my host.
Triarius sipped at his own drink, and then shook his head. “It holds no interest for me any longer. Though I do admit a fondness for wine."
I picked up my goblet and tasted it. It was sweet and strong, a very good, semi-dry red if I remembered my wines correctly. “It's very good,” I said. “A nice bouquet."
"You enjoy wine, then?"
"To a degree. I've never been much of a drinker.” I drank a little more, the flavor growing on me. It really was rather sweet. I could see myself drinking it on occasion. Before I realized it, however, I'd finished the wine. It was the most I'd had to drink in a while, and I almost enjoyed the warm sensation as the alcohol flowed through me. Without my asking, a servant returned and refilled my goblet. “I must ask, Triarius: what do you intend to do with me?"
"You're taking it quite well that you're here,” Triarius answered. Long fingers stroked the crystal chalice in his hands and I found myself mesmerized. Visions of those fingers sliding over my skin drifted through my mind, but Triarius’ voice broke through the haze. “I had, in the beginning, the full intention of killing you, Mr. Shaw."
Funny. That didn't bother me as much as I'd expected it to. I watched the way the shadows curled and uncurled around his slender wrists, the tendrils like thin snakes circling his arms. “And now?"
"You intrigue me."
I intrigued him? Here was a man of unbelievable power, undeniable sensuality, telling me that I intrigued him. I laughed a little, though the sound seemed far away, even to my own ears. “How?"
The shadows entwined around his arms, looping in and out, as if they were alive. Transfixed by their serpentine dance, I wasn't aware I'd finished my wine until the glass was refilled once more.
"You enjoy them."
It wasn't a question, but I nodded. I wanted to touch them, to know what the smoky swirls felt like when they caressed my bare skin. Unable to look away, gaze riveted on the enigmatic creature before me, I sipped at my drink, each swallow easing an ache somewhere deep inside me. I'd never needed anything in my life, so much as I needed to taste him.
"Perhaps,” Triarius said, though he sounded as if he'd whispered the word in my mind, “we should retire to more private surroundings."
Drunk on wine and the overwhelming need to lap at his skin, I licked my lips. “Yes."
Triarius simply smiled and everyone's attention shifted to the doorway. Brow furrowed, I turned and watched as several young men and women filed into the room. Dressed in flowing robes of crimson and white silk, they glided across the polished floor and stopped in a line, facing the table. When they bowed, they did so in a wave, the effect unsettling, like a serpent. Then they spread out, the men on one side, the women on the other.
One of the women stepped forward, her robe falling away to reveal porcelain skin studded with tiny silver discs in elaborate patterns. The candlelight flickered over her body, the sparkles of the discs dazzling. She danced to an unheard rhythm toward the men, arms beckoning, hips circling, sable hair swaying over her back. When she reached the men, she extended one arm, turned it palm-up, and crooked a finger.
The one to answer was ethereal, as flawless in beauty as the woman. He took her hand, linked their fingers, and drew her up against him. He wasn't hard, which surprised me. I would've been. Individually, they were both beyond words; together, they were intoxicating.
The man turned his partner and cupped the front of her neck, just below her chin. He tipped her head back and licked the side of her thro
at. Her eyes closed and they began to move, their linked hands moving slowly over the front of her body. Shadows crept up around them, the smoky tendrils snaking up the woman's legs. She parted her thighs, her gasp audible when one of the shadows slipped between them.
I was so enrapt with the display, that I didn't feel anyone behind me until sharp pain burst over my senses. I couldn't move, not when the pain blossomed into something stronger, deeper. Pleasure flooded me with every hungry pull at my throat. I wanted to touch, to feel the body pressed tight against mine. I didn't have to look to know who it was. A sensation in my gut told me it was Triarius.
High on his touch and too much wine, I could only watch and stare when the silver circles on the female dancer's body began pulsing. The pressure on my throat strengthened, my cock filling in my pants in answer, and the woman's cry when she shuddered in her partner's arms left me breathless. I leaned back against Triarius, eyes rolling as I finally gave in. Heat spread in my lap, every throb of my cock met by a low growl from the man behind me.
Spent and dizzy, I slumped back against him, the world sort of fuzzy around the edges. I barely remembered a soft tongue licking my neck, then someone lifting me. A few minutes later, I curled on my side, consciousness slipping away.
* * * *
I don't know how much time had passed, but when I woke, I was alone. I sat up in the bed and looked around the room. It wasn't the same one I'd been in before. The first had been sparse, barren. This room, however, was immaculate: rich, dark woods, polished stone, dark, luxurious fabrics. I was in Triarius’ room. I wasn't sure how I knew, but I had a good feeling I was right.
It took me a few minutes to gather the strength to stand. While the effects of the wine had faded, I still had a touch of dizziness. One hand on the end post of the bed, I got to my feet, the room shifting a little before settling. I never got hangovers; that had to have been some strong fucking wine.
There was a tray of fruits on a nearby table. Beside it sat a glass. A note lay on top of the fruit and I went over and picked it up. The handwriting was elegant, unhurried.
I trust you slept well.
You will need to eat something. The fruit will replenish you. There is water as well.
I look forward to your company.
Something wasn't right. Without the wine muddling my brain, I knew that now. I stared at the platter of fruit. He hadn't taken that much. Had he?
My stomach growling stilled any other thoughts, however, so I grabbed an apple and bit into it. I couldn't begin to stop the groan. It was sweet, needed. I took several more bites, eyes closed while I savored every one. When I finished, I set the core on the table and drank some of the water. I needed more. Hunger was beginning to take precedence. I picked up a pear and started on it, the flavor bursting on my tongue. That one, I devoured quickly. Pangs of hunger clawed at my gut and I chose an orange next. The more of the peel I tore off, the worse the pain got. I couldn't get the fruit into my mouth quickly enough.
One after another, I ate nearly every piece on the tray. The water was long gone. Yet my hunger was stronger than ever, burning its way through my body. I heard voices—outside in the hall, in a room nearby, above me, below me ... I doubled over, hand catching the platter before I hit the floor. The metal dish crashed to the stone floor, but I barely heard it. My blood pounded in my ears, heart thundering. Then hands were on me, lifting me to my feet.
His smell. Oh, God. I could smell him—his skin, his breath, his fucking blood. The pain sparked and then my mouth was on his throat, his blood flooding me. I clutched his arms, fingers digging into his skin as I swallowed every precious drop, the hunger finally subsiding.
Soft words that made no sense drifted around me. He stroked my hair and I almost whimpered when the cut healed, cutting me off from the only thing that...
The truth slammed into me and I shoved him backward. Triarius offered nothing but a knowing smile.
"What the fuck have you done to me?” I shouted, backing away from him, toward the door, I hoped. I didn't know.
"You wanted to know more about us—about me,” he said, making no move to stop me. “Where will you go, Mr. Shaw? If you leave, you do so without a supply of my blood. You've tasted me. That is something no amount of words can erase."
"What am I?” Even as I asked, I knew. I didn't want to, but I knew. I wasn't stupid. But oh, God ... his blood. I wanted to die, but at the same time, I wanted to drink him forever.
"You know that as well as any other. I cannot have you escaping, and you are much too enticing to kill. What better way to insure you remain by my side—than to give you my blood?"
"The wine.” It all made sense now. Fuck. The son of a bitch had spiked the wine.
Triarius nodded. “And now ... you can't leave. With my blood in your veins, you are a dead man outside the Brotherhood's protection. Without my blood, you will not survive for long."
"You've killed me anyway."
"Perhaps. Consider it ... a trade. My secrets, for your life."
I fell back against the wall, mouth open, my brain not quite processing everything. “I'm your prisoner."
"You are my servant."
I had a life. Not much of one, but I wasn't ready to give it up. “People will know I'm missing."
"No one knew where you were,” Triarius countered. “Dai made certain of that. Did you not agree to total secrecy?"
I looked away from him and closed my eyes. I had agreed to it, and for the first time in my life, I chastised myself for being a man of my word. I'd been so desperate for the story, I'd done exactly what they wanted: not told anyone where I was going. No one knew I was here. Eventually, I'd be forgotten as just another reporter lost in the line of duty.
I slid down the wall and rested my head back against it. A quiet resignation followed. A moment later, I sensed him close and when I opened my eyes, he was right there, crouching before me. I hated him. And yet, I wanted him more than anything else in the world. He insured that.
"I am a reasonable man, Mr. Shaw."
I couldn't stop the laugh even if I'd wanted to. “Reasonable? You kidnap me, drag me down to only God knows where, and to keep me here, you essentially sign my death warrant. How is that reasonable?"
"I could have killed you,” he said without emotion. “In that room, I could have torn your soul to shreds, rendered your flesh in such ways that no one would ever know what existed before.” Shadows slithered out from the corners of the room and circled him. “Do you wish to see what could have happened, Mr. Shaw?"
"No.” When I first saw them, those shadows enthralled me. But as they moved, they took on a more ominous presence. I knew, without a doubt, they could kill.
"They are not all for death and destruction.” Triarius held out a hand and a thin tendril of smoke stroked his wrist. “Let me show you..."
"Like hell."
The shadow jerked and sliced through Triarius’ pale flesh. Blood welled to the surface, weakening my resistance. I fought it, forced myself to remain against the wall, to not move, even when the scent hit me. I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to block it all out—the shadows, his voice, his scent, his blood.
"You can not run from it,” Triarius whispered. “The longer you deny it, the worse the pain of hunger becomes."
I knew that. Oh, God, I knew that. My insides twisted into knots and my mind screamed for relief. With a defeated sound, I grabbed his arm and bit down, sucking hard on the cut. The more I drank, the less I hurt. The more I drank ... the more I needed him.
The wound closed and a finger slipped under my chin. I had a split second to stop what I knew was going to happen. I didn't.
Triarius’ lips opened over mine and I was powerless to deny him. Soft-spoken in speech, he was someone completely different in this. He devoured me—lips, teeth, and tongue consuming every ounce of defiance within me. One kiss, and I was hard as stone. In one kiss, the most feared and wicked man on earth had me in the palm of his hand.
"Touch
me."
I reached out, fingertips skimming the arch of his neck. His skin was smooth, flawless, warming under the heat of my touch. Triarius sighed into my mouth, and then stood. He extended his hand to me. I hesitated, knowing what this meant. If I gave in to this, I would have nothing to stand on later. He'd taken everything from me without remorse; he could've taken me by force now. But he didn't.
Meeting his gaze, I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. Despite how much my mind protested, my body betrayed me. I wanted him—of that, there was no doubt. I went to the bed and he stepped up behind me, hands sliding up under my shirt. His lips moved over my neck, the tip of his tongue tracing a line along my pulse point. He inhaled deeply, a soft hiss of breath warming my skin. Then he pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside.
"I've wanted this,” he murmured, hands moving down my body. My stomach muscles tightened in response as he neared the waistband of my jeans. Deft fingers popped the button and eased the zipper down. “Since I first saw you in that room. I wanted to taste you."
I bit back the groan that desperately wanted out when his long fingers eased into my pants. My cock throbbed, anticipating. “Why me?"
"Because you are fearless...” Those fingers stroked the tip of my prick and my knees threatened to buckle from just the simplest touch. “You are strong..."
"I don't break,” I answered, eyes rolling back as my jeans slid down my legs. Triarius wrapped his hand around my cock and I nearly hit the floor.
"I do not wish to break you."
No. You only want to drive me insane. I fisted my hands at my sides and it took all the will I had to keep from thrusting as he stroked my length slowly.
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