Hall of Fame story

The Proposition

It was, at first, a gig just like any other. I showed up at the coffee shop just as the sun finally dropped below the horizon, set up shop on the stage and began playing my guitar. I noticed him as soon as he entered, a pale man with a commanding presence. I nodded to him with a smile... usually the best way to elicit a tip when a listener leaves. He merely looked at me in a way that was incredibly unnerving. I started to feel self-conscious, and so looked down at the guitar and concentrated on playing. When I looked up again he was gone, nowhere to be seen. I heaved a sigh of relief, and winced when someone in the audience requested "Free Bird."

Not the most promising start, but somehow the evening took off. I played like I had never played before... songs that had long lost their meaning for me suddenly flew from my guitar and my lips like they were newly written. Songs of love, joy, pain, regret, remorse. I remembered the subjects of my love songs as if I had only just disengaged from a kiss. More than three hours I played without break. When I ran out of songs I began improvising... like I had never been able to do before.

It was an almost magical experience, yet tiring. My eyelids drooped, and I felt the slightest gust of wind could have knocked me off I seat. But I still played, every energy I had funnelled into the music, until suddenly, like the spell had been broken, it stopped. I said goodbye and pulled myself from the stool, realizing for the first time that the shop was full of listeners, all clapping wildly and tipping enough to keep me set for months afterwards. For a starving artist like myself, it was a windfall like none I'd received before.

It took some time for me to get out of there, between fans lining up to buy cheaply recorded tapes and autographs, as well as for the owner to book me there again as soon as possible. I held myself as well as possible, but desperately needed sleep, and as soon as I could manage I was on my way to my old apartment, where I flopped on my bed and fell into the deepest sleep I'd ever had.

When I awoke, the time was still early, yet I was completely awake. Realizing that I had slept fully dressed, I started to change when I realized that I wasn't alone. Sitting on a chair near the bed was the man from the coffee shop, with the commanding presence. With a yelp, I hurled myself across the bed away from him, terrified. "What do you want? Why are you here?"

He smiled, his voice calm and poised. "Do not overexert yourself. You have just barely recovered from the brink of death. Had you taken a half-hour longer to get here, you would never have awoke from that sleep. As is, you need more rest. Relax."

I could feel my tightened muscles relax, and my Fight-Or-Flight response dying away. Intellectually, however, I knew I was in trouble. "Do you want the money? Take it! It's all in the case... but please just leave the guitar, I can't afford another."

The man continued his calm smile. "Of course... yes, that lovely instrument you played so well. It will remain, one does not deprive Michelangelo of his paintbrush. Incidently, I do not intend to take your money, either. It was hard earned, and nearly cost you your life. It is all yours."

I know longer knew how to play this at all. I remained at a safe distance from him. "Who... who are you?"

"My name is Sparro," he said with an air of formality, "And I am very happy to make your acquaintance. I already know you very well, but vocal greetings can be so much more fulfilling."

His calm voice remained level, as if this was a regular occurrence for him and his answer made perfect sense. I could only nod, the confusion growing inside me.

"You are wondering, however, not so much Who I am as What I am here for. The answer is actually simple. I am your newest, greatest fan... and have come to offer you a choice that could change your life forever."

"What are you, some kind of Talent Agent?"

He laughed. "You could say that, I suppose. Your talent is great... that was seen last night. You could become the King of the Coffee Shop circuit. Or, you could become much more, with my aid. It is not a choice I offer to many, but I am convinced that you possess the potential to be the newest member of my Order.

You may be confused as to why you calmed so quickly. The answer is simply that I ordered it. I am Mashiekeh... a Master. My word, wishes, and thoughts are obeyed by those I give them to... instantly. I ordered your relaxation because of your still fragile state... too much excitement and you might have fallen into a coma. More sleep would have been better, but I have several serious time constraints... we needed to speak soon."

I blinked several times while absorbing this. "You can make people, obey you?"

Sparro frowned. "It is not that I make them obey... they merely do. That is what I am. To be Mashiekeh is to be obeyed, though there are other... aspects... to my situation."

He gathered his thoughts, and gestured for me to sit, which I did without thinking. "I am immortal, as are those like me. Death does not touch us through any natural means. We exist as constants in a world full of change. Humans, like yourself, live quick and empty lives, scurrying like rabbits in their den, while we wait... and feed.

Unlike the Nosferatu, or vampires, as you know them, we do not drink the life-blood of those we hunt. We feed deeper... on the very emotions of those around us, their essences, thoughts, and feelings. Fears, fetishes, deepest dreams... all of these to us are the grand banquet of life. Without them we lose the will to continue, fading from existence until all that is left is a loose cord of essence, bereft of strength or drive."

Sparro looked at me intently. "Our powers to control aid us in receiving what we need. We can only feed when our food is expressed... in word or expression, or song, in your case. We provoke feelings and reactions within our prey that release these, permitting us to feed to our will.

Last night, I saw a another down on his luck performer. You were unnerved by my attention towards you, and so I simply removed myself from your awareness, and permitted you to play, drawing the best you had to offer out of you. You wanted to play... needed to play. I daresay you have never played so well before. While I can feed on any human being, I enjoy artists the most. You and your kind are the true gourmets of human emotion.

I had far more than just what you were expressing. Your thoughts and feelings invoked emotion in others, as well, setting a Grand Banquet for me in the process. Not in years have I eaten so well. That is why I made the decision to spare your life, and offer you your choice. You have earned it."

"You keep saying you spared my life... what would I have died from?"

"I was feasting on your very essence last night. You are lucky so many came to listen to you... otherwise you would never have survived as long as you did. Once someone has been completely drained, they fall into a coma that will claim them eventually, vegetables without will or motivation. You would have been as dead as it is possible to become."

"What choice are you offering? To continue feeding you or die?"

Sparro paused, and licked his lips. "An arrangement I considered, I assure you. Even your fear is delectable. No. I offer you the choice to become like me... a Mashiekeh. Our numbers are few, fewer even than the Nosferatu, who are constantly hunted. We are something of an... elitist group, I believe you would phrase it. I offer it to you."

"If I refuse?"

"If you refuse I will leave you... for now. But you will still be vulnerable. I may return, or another may hear of you and come. Then you may not survive. Either way, you will never fully experience what I can give you... mastery over minds and emotions. For an artist like yourself, the ability to play a human being the way you play that instrument..." he gestured at the guitar, "should be an offer difficult to refuse."

Silence fell over the room. Confusion filled me as I looked at Sparro. I didn't know what to say. The temptation was real, as was the fear. Such power was indeed difficult to refuse, but the unknowns were terrifying. He smiled, and closed his eyes, drinking in my fear. What would it be like, to taste the emotions of those around me?

Sparro stood. "I do not ask for you to decide now. I have all the time in the world, but you do not. Those who supply our food in any great measure gain some aspect of our powers, temporarily. It all depends on the exposure. I nearly fed upon to your death. Your powers will be relatively strong, for a day, maybe two. Enjoy it. I shall return to you when it has passed. Wouldn't want you making any uneducated decisions. Go out, enjoy yourself. When the time comes, you will know which choice you must make."

He walked to the door, opened it. "Sleep now, regain your strength, then go out tonight. Talk with people, test your power while you have it. Learn what it can be like... and know that it will grow stronger."

He stepped out. Even as the door was closing, I felt an incredible feeling of lethargy flow over me, and I barely managed to crawl back onto my bed before falling asleep. Though it felt like I might never wake, I knew that I would... because he had commanded it.

The night was alive, the city streets buzzing with the power of a town that almost had a second awakening every time the sun set. Just as the sun dipped below the horizon I awoke, changed, and stepped out onto the streets.

Normally, on leaving for a night out, I would wear my normal attire, jeans, a t-shirt, maybe a sweater. This time I wore a dark outfit that was almost formal... adding to a presence that I was exuding in an almost unnatural way. I could see it in myself in the mirror, and in the reactions I received walking down the street. No one knew who I was... but they knew that I was somebody.

My walking was random, for I was experimenting with my new facilities. I possessed an empathy that I had never known before. Strangers walked by and I knew their emotions... the tired businessman, the sky-high drug addict, the bored gang members, the arrogant pimps followed by their submissive whores, who were in turn followed by horny Johns.

I spent some time growing accustomed to this. It was as if I could smell their emotions... almost tasting them but not quite, much as if I was smelling a meal being placed on the table. Any doubts that I might have had left concerning Sparro's authenticity were gone... he had been telling the truth. I felt simultaneously exhilarated and terrified... and decided that I needed a drink. I turned on heel and walked to a nearby bar, the Golden Dancer. The Dancer was a fancy kind of place, where one could find drinking, socializing, and obviously dancing quite easily.

It also employed a waitress named Marlena, who was the prime reason my friends and I frequented the Dancer. She was beautiful in a very cultural kind of way, a southern Belle who had a smile and wink, if nothing else, for everyone she served in the Bar. I had no real plans upon arrival... merely a curiosity. To this point I had merely been detecting emotions, I was going to try to do more.

As soon as I entered the Golden Dancer, I knew things had changed for me. The Hostess, normally bored and apathetic, was very attentive to me, and flirtatious in a way I had never seen before, at least from her. Winks, innuendo, that sort of thing. This was new for me, and after a second glance I decided she really was quite attractive... shoulder length blond hair, nice legs, and great breasts. The Golden Dancer didn't hire just anyone for hostess.

I might have acted upon it, tried some suggestions, but I was experiencing something new... her. The emotions I had been sensing before were read, not expressed. These were aimed at me, and I absorbed them, for lack of a better word. I could feel her interest, her playfulness, and a definite sense of arousal. I smiled and leaned forward... and felt all of her feelings strengthen, and flow into me. I drank them in and they flowed in an almost intoxicating way.

"Your table is ready, sir." The man before me now was annoyed and jealous, though it didn't show in his face or tone. Yet he might as well have declared a challenge while beating his chest for all he hid from me. I smiled at him, a condescending smile that might have earned me a punch in the face in another time or place. He smiled icily, then led me to my seat. "Marlena will be your waitress. She'll be here shortly."

My sureness and poise had grown. I was definitely receiving some attention, from the many women in the room who were gazing with interest, and men glaring in jealously in what was supposed to be a subtle way. I sat back and drank it all in, felt my power growing. The hostess had run to Marlena and was whispering in her ear... they both looked my way and giggled.

The menu was frankly uninteresting. Mere food or Alcohol had little allure compared to what I was consuming. Marlena approached the table, obviously calming herself, desperate not to make a fool out of herself in front of me. I prepared a warm smile for her... until the moment was suddenly interrupted.

"Kyle!" I looked around to see Allie, a gal I'd gone to college with, plop down in the seat across from me. "I haven't seen you in ages. Where have you been? What have you been up to? You look great!"

Marlena looked disappointed when she reached the table, which was nothing compared to the sense of disappointment that flooded from her. She took drink orders and left quickly. I asked for a scotch and wondered if I could drink it, and what I was going to do now.

Allie was a nice girl, and attractive, but had never been interested in me at school. Truth be told, my interest had been purely physical as well... she lacked the brain power to ever be more than a pretty face, and I preferred deeper connections. Still...

I glanced towards Marlena as I pretended to listen to a diatribe on ex-boyfriends. Marlena was beautiful, an absolute bombshell, and the best draw for business the Golden Dancer had. I realized that I didn't truly understand how my powers worked, and a blunder with her might be fatal. With Allie, however... I turned my attention on the ex-cheerleader fully. She had lost none of her previous figure over the years, indeed her looks had ripened. She was dressed rather hoochie, as she would describe it... with short skirt and tight V-neck blouse inviting any male (and some female) eyes to her without shame. It would be little loss to lose a connection with Allie, and if I proved successful, well, it would hardly be a loss.

Allie's emotions were an easy read, lacking depth as they did. Skittish excitement and curiosity barely covered an arousal that positively quivered when I made no secret about looking her up and down. I leaned forward. "Time has been good to you, Allie. It's very good to see you again, and I am flattered to see you are so excited to see me."

She had been excited before, but as I said the word, it rose like an eruption in her. A song came on, the latest dancing craze. I looked at her, gazed deep into her eyes. "Dance with me." There was no hint of request... it was a straight command. She nodded instantly, her heart beat even faster, and she could barely contain that excitement as I led her to the dance floor.

It wasn't the type of dancing that involves slow circles as you move on the dance floor. It was a grind, and she showed no reserve against rubbing her body against mine in the most suggestive ways imaginable. It was like a flow of energy into me, as if her very essence was diffusing through her skin into my body.

Her emotions became less complex, if that was possible, as the dance went on. The curiosity was gone, as was the skittishness. The excitement and arousal were now bordering on pure lust inside of her. I played with it... sensing where she wanted to be touched and touching her there promptly. When the song ended there was an animal look in her eyes. I reached down and held her head in my hands, staring into her eyes.

"Do you have any plans tonight? Tell the truth."

A look of pain entered her eyes. She didn't want to give the answer, but it was demanded. "Yes... but..."

"What plans?"

"I was going to meet my friends later at the Glitz."

"What friends?"

"Sharon, Liz, Andrea. You remember them, from..."

"Yes, from school. Can you reach them?"

"Yeah... I have Andrea's cell..."

"Good. Call and tell them you will be late, you have bumped into someone. You are coming with me."

"Yes..." she whispered. There was fear now, but the lust remained, though it had gained a sense of docility. The wild animal from before was now leashed. I smiled as she ran to get her phone. Quickly I settled the bill, leaving the scotch untouched. As we walked out, I gave a wink to the Hostess, who was completely thrown of her concentration to the annoyance of incoming customers.

I was silent as we walked down the road, taking my time experiencing the people we past as Allie was pulled helplessly along in my wake. Only once did she begin to speak, and I cut her off with annoyed wave of my hand. "Follow me, and remain silent. You will know we are going when we get there."

Her fear was growing, but the excitement and lust I had placed in her remained strong. The fear had a different smell that what I had previously experienced, though she was keeping it in check enough that there was nothing for me to absorb. When we finally entered my normal urban apartment, she looked around, and her feelings fluttered after a glance at my bed.

I closed the door and looked at her. "It has been a long time since I saw you last, Allie. Do you miss those college days?"

"Yes, I do. They were so much easier... so many more boys..."

I cut her off again. It was an act of control, and her submissiveness grew with each such move I made. "Yes, the boys. So many more boys. You enjoyed all the attention we boys gave you, didn't you?"

She nodded the affirmative and opened her mouth to speak. I waved her to silence. "Yes, you liked our attention, and enjoyed teasing us in order to receive more. Are you still a tease, Allie?"

Allie began to shake her head no. I gave her a stare that froze her, and she cast her eyes downward. "Answer me truthfully, Allie. Look at your clothes, remember how we danced. Are you a tease, Allie?"

Shame was there now, and the fear grew more. She nodded slightly, her eyes still looking at the floor. I smiled, drinking it in. "Yes, you are. It is good that you know it. I wonder, though, if you are as good a tease as you once were. Some skills fade with age, they say. Dance for me, tease me. Now."

She did as she was told, and for a moment even her lust was overshadowed by the fear and shame that came from her. She knew what she was now, though she had never admitted it to herself before. Yet that shame began to die down as she began dancing. It was a very good dance, she was a very good tease. Her body moved suggestively, her hands moving all over. After a moment of hesitation, she began removing the clothes she had on, which added a whole new aspect to the dance, her breasts, nice and globular, swaying as she writhed before me, held now by her hands.

I was stimulated, there could be no doubt. But remembering her tease made me want to show her a true tease. I wondered how far I could take it. "Stop." She froze at the word, one arm lifting under her breasts as the other one had snaked to her crotch. I walked to her, walked around her, examining her slowly. Though shame had gone through the self-stimulation of the dance, she was still afraid, almost terrified of the power I held over her.

I cupped a hand under her chin, lifted her face. "Look me in the eyes," I commanded. She obeyed, though tears were forming. She was feeling out of control, understandable as she was out of control, completely obedient to my every word. "Don't be afraid."

Her body shivered as her fear drained out of her like a sieve. I took as much as I could absorb... it's sensation like a cold tartness compared to the spicy taste of her lust. That lust was all she had left, though now unashamedly at my beck and call. I put my hand on her right breast, slowly letting my fingers play with the smooth skin, lightly caressing the nipple. She took in a hard breath.

"I see you enjoying this, Allie. What do you want to happen here?"

Her eyes cast about wildly, as she tried to gather herself enough to put her scattered thoughts into words. Her voice had gained a breathy, and slightly urgent quality. "I... I want... I want to make love..."

"Ahh..." I answered, and began walking around her, letting my hand slowly slide over her skin. "And you thought I would do this for you, eh?"

"I was... h-h-hoping you would..." there was confusion. She had clearly expected that sex would happen from the moment I took charge of her. That it might not was an unexpected concept... and to her, frightening. She knew what she wanted... what she needed so badly... "P-p-please, Kyle? I... need... this..."

My touching hadn't stopped, but had become explorative. Again I was facing her, and I leaned forward to kiss her neck softly. "Hmmm... what would you give to have this happen, Allie?"

"Anything... please..."

I took a step back. "I am not used to such forward women, Allie. This is not how proper women behave. It is far too late for you to be ashamed." The shame vanished as soon as it had begun to rise again. "I will do this for you, but you must understand that it is not a sharing. I am going to give you what you need, for which I am owed respect."

Allie looked down at the floor again. "Yes, Kyle..."

I shook my head. "Too familiar, Allie. You know that I am far above you. You need me. You obey me. What does that make me?"

She looked at me for a moment, then cast her eyes to the ground. "That makes you... my... Master."

I smiled. "Excellent, Allie."

The excitement in her grew. On a sudden impulse, she kneeled. "Thank you, Master. May I receive what I need, now?"

I nodded. "Yes, Allie. Now you will get all you need, and more."

The next day, I awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking, and saw Allie cooking in the kitchen, still naked save an apron. "Good Morning, Master. Breakfast is nearly ready."

"I see. Very good, Allie." After eating, I sat back to think while Allie proceeded to clean my apartment. Suddenly I was aware of another presence. Sparro was coming, I could sense him. I looked at Allie. "It is time for you to leave, Allie. Tell your friends you had a wonderful time last night with an old friend. Do not call me, I will call you if I wish you to be near. Live life as you normally do, complete with teasing, and tell no one what really happened last night. Above all, tell no one that I am your Master. If you do, you will never receive what you need again. Now get dressed and go."

Allie obeyed quickly, and looked sad as she opened the door. I took her by the arm as she was leaving and kissed her, yet couldn't sense her like before. My powers were fading. If she hadn't accepted me as Master already, I doubt I could have controlled her. "Do not worry overmuch. If you behave, I will call for you again soon." She left with a definite spring in her step.

Sparro entered a few minutes later. "An excellent choice of nightly diversion. You have good taste. Have you considered my offer?"

I looked up at him. I knew what I wanted... more. "I'm in."

(This is the second chapter of the Mashiekeh cycle. My thanks to those who e-mailed me in support of the series, as it is always good to hear feedback. I would also like to apologize for the occasional grammar and spelling errors in the first Chapter, I have done what I can to eliminate them in this one, though I'm sure I will find a whole slew of them once this is submitted. Anyways, don't read this if you're likely to get offended, or if you were offended by the first chapter. Enjoy the experience of becoming a Mashiekeh's apprentice.)

Apprentice

The dark city streets winded endlessly. I had never been to this part of town before, and was slightly unnerved by the winding dark alleyways. Sparro did not speak, merely walking with a sense of power that I now understood. We would occasionally pass the denizens of this place... brooding people with shifty eyes. My empathy was completely gone... and the world seemed so dull. I also felt nervous and unsure, unable to sense the intentions of those who watched our slow trek through Old Town.

One of the people we passed caught my attention especially... he looked at me as if I were food, and stepped in front of us, revealing sharper than normal teeth. My breath caught... in all my bewilderment at the powers of Mashiekeh, I had completely forgotten Sparro's revelation that vampires were more than campfire stories.

The newcomer smiled in the same way a lion might when facing prey. "I see you have brought a specimen, Sparro. Plenty of blood in this one... might I have a taste before you drain him? The blood is always a bit... cooler... after you've taken their essence." With that, he leaped at me. I threw up my arm to cover my throat and braced for the blow, but it never came.

"Stop!" We both froze. "This one is not for you, Damien. Step away now, and do not harm him." The vampire snarled, but obeyed.

Sparro turned to me with a look of amusement in his eyes. "As you can see, even the Nosferatu are bound to our will. On occasion I will bring food to this one when he needs to keep his head down. Hunters, you see. They may find him anyway, but Damien here is much safer when I bring him his treats, once I am finished with them, of course."

I looked at the monster that was still glaring at me. "Do you ever feed on them?"

"Only in times of great need. The Nosferatu have emotions and thoughts, of course, but the taste is decidedly bitter... the reason I can smell one within ten feet. They are not worth the trouble most of the time, and can be useful allies occasionally. I recommend tolerance."

Sparro walked on past Damien, who stared pure hate towards me. I followed as quickly as possible, ready to cry out at the first sign of attack, but none came. Sparro's commands held firm, even when given to the undead. It was some time, however, before I no longer felt those eyes on my back.

We entered an old warehouse, that by all appearances had been abandoned for some time. A service lift took us to the third floor, and I stared in shock. The room might have been in a completely different building for its appearances.

The shoddy woodwork and concrete were gone, or at least tastefully covered up. The room looked like it belonged in a palace, with a velvet curtain surrounding a four-poster bed, fine carpeting, and expensive paintings on the wall. There were no windows, but the paintings gave a fair illusion of a view on a medieval countryside. There was also a simple table, with two wooden chairs that faced each other.

Sparro sat at one, indicating with his hand that I should take the other. We faced each other for a while, in silence. I knew Sparro was searching, though, feeling my thoughts. I imagined a probing sensation in my brain, though I knew it was just imaginary. Sparro was far too subtle to do anything detectable by mere humans.

When he spoke, his voice was firm. "This will take some time. The process is delicate... and must be handled with care. Your experimentation last night was actually necessary for this... you will need the facility to use the powers, and there is little room for trial and error. This process may claim your life, but I suspect you are proficient enough with the powers in question to survive."

I didn't respond, but settled myself, concentrating on what he said, determined to succeed. My control over Allie wasn't forgotten.... I wanted that, and was determined to have it. I smiled as I remembered the look of complete submission she had given me. It was worth it.

Sparro nodded. "We will need some help. Angelica!" A beautiful girl entered the room, looking in every way like a royal concubine. Her hair was a long curly blond, falling to her waist and framing a body that made the entire experience seem like something out of a young man's dream. She was neatly groomed, sexily dressed in silk, and as much a piece of furniture as the velvet couch she lounged upon. Sparro certainly paid her no more mind.

"Now, I want you to express yourself to me... as much as you can. Thoughts, fears, desires, dreams, your songs if you wish to sing them. I will be taking them, drinking as deeply as I can. In time you will begin to attain the power yourself. You will know this time when you can sense her thoughts." He waved a hand at Angelica.

"Let it wait... until you feel you could command her. Then, begin drawing from her. A simple command and she will perform, and you can feed on her while being fed on by me, to keep you alive. Before she is fully drained, you will have the power to interact with me, and absorb me as I absorb you. Then, it is only a matter of time."

He settled himself, then opened his eyes. "Oh, and if you don't mind, do try to leave something of her left. Accidents happen, but she is a particularly fine specimen, and I would hate to have to feed her to Damien." He frowned at the possibility, then looked at me. "Begin."

I opened my mouth, and my life poured out. My parents, my childhood, my homes. Old loves, my first guitar, learning to play, choosing to live by my music. I recounted them in detail that surprised even me... I suspected that Sparro was enhancing my recital here in much the same way he had inspired my performance at the coffee house.

My tale was halfway through High School when the lethargy began to seep in. I was beginning to have to work harder to draw out the memories, and felt a weakness of heart. It occured to me that Sparro was now feeding directly from me, unlike in the coffee shop when he had been sampling a full smorgasboard. I began to panic... wondering if I would be completely drained before I was able to...

Suddenly, I was aware of Angelica. A sense of anticipation was exuding from her, and growing as she watched the scene before her and listened to my tale. The familiar sense of submission was there, but unlike what I had sensed from Allie, this was practiced, a barely noticable buzz behind her other emotions. There was excitement...and it was focused on me. She was eager to receive a command from me, the idea of another Mashiekeh excited her, even though she overheard it might cost her life for me to be formed.

My weakness was beginning to reach disturbing levels, even as my awareness of her became more and more focused. Suddenly, the moment seemed right. My eyes, which had been closed from almost the beginning, opened and locked on her. "Perform for me."

Without even the slightest hesitation, Angelica stood and walked till she stood beside the table, on a small Persian rug I had not noticed before, which bore a design that matched the one on her harem-girl outfit. She kneeled and put her face to the ground. "Yes, Masters."

For a moment there was no movement, and I began to panic. I reached for her with my mind, trying to draw her in, but without expression I couldn't. I opened my mouth again to reissue the command when she began to uncurl...

It was eerily like watching a rosebud bloom, slow, graceful, sensual. A sense of sexual desire tempered by a playful shyness flowed into me, and I drank it like a parched man drinks water. Its taste was exquisite... smooth and sweet like a caramel. She moved as one with no inhibitions, sliding her hands along her skin until she was fully outstretched, then slowly moving back down, a flower wilting.

The red silk that served as her only covering was only loosly held to her body, flowing along her form at the slightest movement, occasionaly fitting to her form in ways that left little to imagination. She was a small creature... barely five foot two with a waifish appearance that was oddly offset by her well formed breasts.

She wasn't done performing. As her slow, methodic movement continued she began to sing, not with words but with pure sounds, long stringing vowels joined by smooth consonants. It was submission... distilled perfectly into a form I could consume, that I needed to consume.

My own story continued, now well into my adult life. It must have been an odd scene, with Angelica singing and dancing, accompanying my recital, all of which was flowing into Sparro, who had lounged back in his chair, and was licking his lips.

I couldn't hold on to what I took fromAngelica for long. No sooner had I absorbed her emotions than they were drawn by Sparro, requiring me to draw yet more from her. My empathic senses were becoming clearer and clearer, yet I was having to draw harder and harder from the girl. Her dance continued, but slowed, her voice weakening. My sense of her was getting harder to maintain as she was drained, and yet Sparro continued his consumption, forcing me to draw even more from her in order to remain alive. Slowly, she began to crumple to the ground, finally laying her head at Sparro's feet. There was hardly anything left of her, and I reached for that last spark...

Suddenly I was aware of Sparro, the great well of humanity he had stored inside himself. I could feel the connection he had made, like a straw into my soul. I seized it and began to draw back, releasing Angelica and concentrating on him.

The flow, for a time, was one way, and I began to fill myself. Then I became aware of another connection from him, drawing from me. A cycle began, as we exchanged our essences, then again, then again...

I am not sure how long we sat at that table, staring at each other, Angelica's prone form crumpled to the side. There was no moment of searing pain, no great scene of writhing in my transformation. There was just a moment when I knew... an epiphany that opened my eyes to my new existence. I broke off the connection to Sparro. He smiled at me.

"It is done. It was a near thing... I think something in you was resisting the transformation, but it is done. You are now a Mashiekeh. Welcome."

I felt that I should have had something to say to this, but nothing was forthcoming. I merely nodded, and looked down at Angelica. Sparro followed my gaze, clicked his tongue in irritation, then knelt beside her, placing a hand on her forehead. There was a quiet moment, then he smiled again. "She will live, though it was a near thing, even closer than your own ordeal. You took all but her last spark... the very point of light that differentiates between human and vegetable. She will be days recovering, but she will recover."

Carefully he picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her on it, placing her as gently as one would a baby. I watched her for a moment. She was pale, even paler than before, but I could see her breathing now. "She was incredible."

Sparro laid a blanket over her, nodded. "She is among the finest I have ever taken, and I have taken a few. I found her when she was fifteen, a runaway. That was ten years ago. She is doubtlessly the finest of my current collection."

I looked at him. "You have others?"

He smiled. "Of course I do. Few luxuries are worth as much as a variety of pets to feed from. They are a reserve... should hunting be bad or if I merely want to remain indoors. The others are not here... they would have been a distraction. Now, to you."

He faced me, a stern look putting me on my guard. "There will be a time of learning for you, during which you will be my apprentice. You are too inexperienced yet to resist my commands, that will come in time. I will teach you the way of it myself. In the meantime, you must learn how, and how not, to use your powers.

I pulled myself to my full height. "Am I not a Mashiekeh, then? How is it that a Master follows?"

Sparro was not amused. "Your powers are weak. If you need an analogy, you are a child that was born a matter of minutes ago. The exact form of your powers has yet to take shape. Simply put, you need time to grow up"

I was confused. "I feel strong, stronger than I was last night."

He chuckled. "As strong as that? You did well enough with one girl... given time to gain influence and stimulate an already overactive libido... I daresay you did her a favor by putting her on a leash. Yes, I was watching you. With last night as your only reference, you clearly do not even know what strength is. But beyond that, you are not even that strong... on your own. Any noticable power you have now is residue from me... gained through all of your life energies and most of hers." He jerked his head towards the bed.

"In time it will wear off... and then you will have to nurture it, let it grow. Without my aid, you will starve before you can effectively control someone else enough to feed. But now, I suppose you are hungry."

I was, at that. It was a different hunger, a different emptiness. I nodded. He grinned, or at least showed teeth. "Very well, apprentice. Let us get you fed. Your first hunt. Use my strength, while you still have it."

The Glitz was a ritzy place downtown, where the beautiful people met to dance and party. I had only been there once before and that by mistake. Sparro, however, knew it well, and was passed by the bouncers without even having to use his powers. I was included in his invite, if only by association. He glanced around fondly as we entered.

"I have always enjoyed this place as hunting grounds. I have rather developed taste in my pets. The beautiful make for a fun evening, the deep make for an excellent meal, and those who are both often make the best pets. You will have to determine what you like best, of course. Every Mashiekeh has his own particular taste."

I was suddenly distracted by a sense of familiarity. Allie was here, I knew that somehow. I turned and there she was at the bar, flirting heavily with some men while showing a ridiculous amount of flesh. She was fulfilling my command to behave normally to the letter.

Sparro noticed my distraction. "Ahh, your distraction from last night. You are wondering how you knew?"

I nodded, in wonder at what I had done. He smiled. "My young friend, you experienced her in a way that people who are lovers for entire lifetimes cannot. You ingested her very essence, experienced her completely. Our telepathic abilities are limited in many ways, but we always possess a certain... affinity... for those we feed deeply upon. Will you feed on her again?"

I watched her for a while, pondering. She had been delicious before... and would pose little difficulty to control now. I almost nodded, then shook my head. "No. I may need my power over her later... when I no longer have your residual strength. But perhaps I could use her..."

Sparro said nothing, but his emotions radiated approval. I continued watching Allie, then suddenly realized she wasn't alone. She was with a friend, a darker beauty who was dressed only slightly more reservedly than Allie. I was a moment remembering her name... Andrea. I started to walk towards her but Sparro caught my arm.

"You are too aggressive, my young friend. The direct approach has its merits but lacks the artistry of a proper hunt. You barely know her. Before you can completely control her, you must learn her, how to press her buttons." I hesitated, then nodded. He released my arm. "Now, can you isolate her emotions from the chaos of this place?"

I closed my eyes. The Glitz was a cacophony of emotion and hormones that made locating the mind of one girl quite like trying to locate one flower in a greenhouse by smell. Possible, but insanely difficult. I finally managed by isolating Allie and moving next to her. Sparro nodded. "That is one way our previous meals can assist us. Now, feel into her mind. You cannot absorb her at this range, but try to read her thoughts. They are not particularly complex."

It was difficult, but soon I had it. Andrea was bored. She watched Allie flirt with the young men with a touch of jealousy, a touch of snobbishness, but mostly a large dose of amusement. Her thoughts were not formed... she seemed content to gaze and zone.

My Instructor whispered. "Now, form a thought, and place it in her mind. Something obvious, such as a tickle in the nose to induce a sneeze. Keep it basic at first, more complex things will come in time."

I closed my eyes again, feeling around inside her thoughts. I imagined an irritant far back in my nose, then rather clumsily envisioned it as part of her thoughts. Suddenly, the thought settled into her mind as if she had thought it herself, releasing a rather explosive sneeze. Allie turned to her absent-mindedly and gave a hurried "Bless you."

Sparro smiled. "Excellent, you have her. Now, our purposes are served much better if she is aroused. You have noticed the presence that our powers grant us. As is, she would be eager for time alone with you if you were to appear by her side. If she were aroused, it would become a need to be alone, with a hope to be intimate. Make her feel good... feel desire."

Turning my attention again to Andrea, I imagined the good feeling of arousal. She started looking confused, and glanced nervously at her drink. Sparro almost exploded. "No, fool! That is male arousal, which she has never experienced! You must make her feel aroused in the way a woman feels it, or it is all worthless." I nodded quickly, then got confused. I wasn't sure at all how to make her feel female arousal. Sparro rolled his eyes. "I forget you are so knew. Look around you... surely not all of these women can be faking arousal. Discover one who isn't, then experience it, and translate it for your target. Believe me, it will all be worthwhile in the end.

I let my mind rove, searching for a suitable subject. I found her, a younger girl dancing in a way that might have stimulated a corpse. I could smell her arousal but I had to probe her mind for some time to recognize it. Whereas my own arousal was quick and powerful, like a thunderstroke, hers was a slow, burning fire. Weak at first, but building till it could have melted through steel. It was this that I brought to Andrea, who had gotten a new drink, and was really starting to feel the music. Sparro nodded to me. "Now, you may approach her. Make me proud."

As I walked towards her, I reached deep inside of her mind, and planted the seeds of the burning flame. Like before, it began with only a weak spark, but I was startled at how eagerly the rest of her psyche accepted the flame, and added to it. It was as if her other emotions were slowly feeding themselves into the sensation, simplifying her mind in return for greater arousal. She began looking around, measuring the men she saw, clearly looking for someone to associate these feelings with. As her eyes rested on each one, I placed a negative in her mind, and she continued looking around. As I arrived at the bar, Allie saw me before Andrea did.

"Kyle!" She ran towards me, her previous objects of flirtation forgotten, and feeling a bit put off. I smiled at them, temporarily sampling their spite and jealousy. It had a spiky taste, somewhat akin to a shot of whisky. I made a note of this to myself, then greeted my pet.

"Hello, Allie, it is good to see you again. You must introduce me to your friend, here." I indicated Andrea, who had had her eyes locked on me since Allie's outburst. I placed a strong sense of command into my statement, and Allie lowered her eyes in a temporary look of submission I decided to overlook... she positively reeked of disappointment. In a moment it passed and she was bubbly again, turning so she could face the both of us. Andrea's fire was nearly at its boiling point.

"Yes, of course, what was I thinking? Andrea, you remember Kyle, from school. Doesn't he look fantastic?"

It turned out that Andrea was getting bored at the Glitz... she wanted to leave rather quickly. Allie rode up front in the taxi as I sat in the back with Andrea. While having the both of them would have been a feast, I wanted to concentrate for the moment. Allie would be available at my leisure.

Andrea was something, all right. Her dark eyes latched on to mine at every opportunity, and the desire in her burned so hot that consuming it was almost painful... much like a good Mexican dinner. She was different from Allie, however... her desire was to have me, but so far on her terms. She had no doubts as to how the evening would end, and she secretly (so she thought) was working on blowing my cool. Her eyes had taken on the look of a lioness on the hunt, and I the prey. I decided to let it continue, in the interest of broadening my horizons.

There had been a time in my life, not quite a full day past, when I had been uncomfortable during any prolonged silence with a woman as attractive as Andrea. Those days were clearly behind me. I held my silence, drinking in Andrea's desire, Allie's frustration, and even the occasional taste of the Driver's boredom. It was all very new.

It was Andrea who broke the silence first, as we walked up the stairs to the apartment that she and Allie shared. "How is it that someone as delicious as you has stayed out of my sight for so long."

I reacted nonchalantly, holding the door for her as we entered her apartment. "We knew each other, once. You never seemed interested back then. In college."

She drew herself up slightly. "You have changed since then, Kyle. As, I hope you'll find, have I." On an impulse (which came like a shock of electricity of the now overwhelming heat of her sexuality) she reached up and kissed me, then started removing her tight top as she walked into her bedroom, stopping for a moment, to toss a come-hither look in my direction before she disappeared completely from sight.

I was left in the entryway with Allie at heel behind me. I turned to her. Her eyes were full of need, but there was also a sense of fear. She was like a dog that had already been hit once. I cupped her chin with my hand and raised her face till we were eye to eye.

"Allie, tonight is not your night. You will go to your bedroom and sleep, dreaming of me. Your time will come again. You have been a very good girl."

A faint smile crept to her lips. "Thank you, Master," she whispered. I gave her a pat on her rump as she walked by, putting a slight spring in her step, and watched as she went into her room and closed the door. Then I joined Andrea.

She had not been idle. The only light in the room came from candles that burned on a bedside table, and she was laying back on the bed, arms draped over the pillows and legs casually crossed. She wore only skimpy lingerie, something straight from a Victoria Secret Catalog, with a leopard's print that fit the setting like a glove. I had definitely entered her lair. She smiled, a look full of assurance. "You took your time. I was beginning to wonder if you were trying to have Allie and I at the same time."

I smiled as I approached the bed. "Do not think the idea didn't enter my mind. I might try it later, but I think you will do well enough for now."

"Oh you do, do you?" She smiled, then started to crawl towards me over the blankets. "Just enough, perhaps? You are a very sexy man, Kyle, but you have found more now than you can handle."

With that, she sprung from the bed to stand right in front of me, her eyes barely millimeters from mine, as her hands went to the buttons on my shirt. A roguish smile was on her lips. "You might even be worth keeping, once I'm done with you."

Her forward manner flowed into me like melted chocolate, the aggression spicing her desire in a way that made me want more. I felt my own powers sharpening as I fed, my awareness now completely wrapped around the woman in front of me. Her internal fires made me feel like I might start sweating.

I moved forward and kissed her as my hands wrapped around her, easily removing her underwear, which had barely been there to begin with. For the barest moment I sensed irritation from her... it was clear that she preferred to be the initiator of these things, but it was consumed in those flames like a marshmallow tossed into a blast furnace. I drank her in, lifting her and placing her on the bed, my own shirt tossed to the side. Every fiber of her being screamed for release, though the only sound she made was a soft purring. I gave it to her, while taking all I wanted in return.

Hours later I sat on a chair, watching her. Her breathing had returned to normal, her naked form slowly rising and falling with each breath, her hair stuck to her slick skin. Sweat drenched her, and I watched, curious. I sensed Sparro before I heard him enter the room. "Is she dead?"

I shook my head, not removing my eyes from her. "She was nearly insatiable, it took hours before she finally lost consciousness. Had I not been feeding her, I daresay she would have outlasted me."

Sparro smiled. "Such creatures are rare. Yet you should try the last spark, sometime. It is by far the most delicious part of the psyche. After all, you can only have so many pets. I assume you bonded her, like the one sleeping in the next room."

I was caught off guard for a moment, having completely forgotten Allie. "No, it never came up. Submission was never a part of it. When she wakes, she will remember being satiated like no one has ever been able to do for her in her whole life... and that perhaps might do something to the same effect, but I never planted control in her. It was... a mutual thing, barring my feeding, of course."

"Of course." Sparro watched me with curiosity. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired... perhaps the lethargy following a huge meal?"

He nodded slowly. "Something like that. My powers are almost completely gone from you by now. Your weakness comes partially from that... even after such a feeding it takes time for your own powers to develop. What you need now is some rest. We'll go back to the warehouse.

I hesitated for a moment, then stood and dressed. On an impulse I walked to the bedside and kissed her. When my lips touched hers I felt her essence, the life spark still burning brightly, with the promise of taste and strength if I would but take it. I almost did, then pulled away."

Sparro studied me for a moment. "Such self-control is rare in most young ones. You are a very dangerous man, Kyle. I think I have chosen the perfect apprentice."

There seemed to be no good answer to this. I followed him out of the building. As we left I felt a wash of nausea come from someone who was paying for a night out in a side alley, as well as the slightly horny patience of a young whore plying her trade. I walked past them both. Sparro would tell me when it was time to hunt again.

(I'm baaaaack... Hope everyone had Happy Holidays. More thanks to those who commented on the stories, and asked for more... people like you keep us Authors going, and we appreciate it. This part of the Mashiekeh tale deviates from the previous pattern as it is not told from Kyle's point of view. Here you will experience those under the influence of the Mashiekeh in their own thoughts. Same disclaimers as before... don't read this if you're too young, or were offended by the previous chapters. Copyright mine, and all that. Any questions, comments, or words to live by can be sent to Olorin247@yahoo.com . I do my best to respond to them all, but no promises. Anyway, enjoy the minds of the Domestics.)

Domestics

There was no clear way to tell time of day inside of Sparro's apartments, but something inside of Angelica told her that it was morning as she awoke. She stretched in a lithe manner... it seemed that her every action was designed for sexiness, and she was only slightly disappointed to find that there was no one in the room to appreciate it. The doors were closed, but beyond them she could sense the other pets, lounging, and grooming. She always enjoyed the brief time of empathy she received whenever Sparro fed on her, the sense of power and control she had.

She smiled to herself, and then stood. Her outfit and hair were rumpled by the long period of fitful sleeping she had just endured. The silk slip slid from her body easily, and she spent some time brushing her hair until the curls fell perfectly once again.

As she placed the brush back down, she posed for a moment in front of the mirror. Sparro's tastes were exceptionally demanding. Every pet had a certain outfit for a certain task at a certain point of the day. Rarely was sheer nudity witnessed in his apartments... it just wasn't decorative enough. She smiled to herself, as she continued posing, imagining herself as some sort of primitive fertility goddess, giving herself up for sex and bounty.

Her hair fell around her body as shimmering yellow cloak, and she laughed as she spun, watching as it flowed across her perfect porcelain skin. Sparro would never notice such a thing anymore. But the new one, perhaps he would...

Suddenly she could smell a set of emotions so bitter she almost spat compulsively. Her slow, sinuous dance ended abruptly and she spun, facing a dark figure right behind her, and cast no reflection in the mirror. "You shouldn't be here..." she gasped as she backed away from him.

Damien flashed a toothy smile. "I grow thirsty, Angelica. Sparro has not had time recently to deign to fulfill his promises. I had hoped to find you fully drained by your ordeal."

"Well, I'm not. I survived. Now please leave, Sparro hasn't given your permission..."

"Sparro, is it? Quite presumptuous for a slave such as you to refer to him by name, is it not? Perhaps you have grown a bit too uppity for your own good. Sparro does not yet know that you survived... I have longed to learn what your blood would taste like."

With that, Damien leaped forward, his hand catching her by the throat, and pinning her to the wall. Her hands grasped at his arm, attempting to disengage it, but it was futile. Few humans were any match for a vampire's strength, and Angelica was a very small person indeed. He leaned forward, his free hand exploring her exposed form.

"He has forgotten what true passion is, hasn't he, my sweet Angelica? I see your efforts to please him, consumed for a quick breakfast then left. Your blood burns hot, yet he barely even notices your body anymore. This is a gift I give you, you realize. There is no greater pleasure a human girl can experience than the pleasure given by the kiss of a Nosferatu. You will feel pleasure beyond your wildest imaginings... and then you'll die far happier than you have been in ages." And with that, his lips had almost reached her neck...

"Stop." Damien froze, and Angelica trembled as she could still feel his chilled breath on her throat. "Release her, Damien, and stand back." As the vampire released her, Angelica slid down the wall to the ground, sobbing slightly. The vampire turned to face Sparro, snarling.

"You were ordered to leave my pets alone, Damien. Now, how is it that you managed to sidestep those orders? Tell me."

The words came immediately. "You told me that I could investigate whether or not she survived, and then feed if appropriate. I did so, and decided it would be appropriate to feed."

Sparro's eyes glinted in amusement. "Ah, yes. Imprecise wording to a subject as untrustworthy as you could have such effects. I'll be sure to mention this to Kyle. Your old orders remain... leave now. You may touch none of my pets, nor my apprentice, without my expressed permission to do so. You are permitted to hunt in the red-light district tonight. One whore, no more. I cannot stand a gluttonous vampire."

Damien almost spat. "Yes, Sparro, may your form shrivel in the sun."

Sparro laughed as he left. "A vampire curse... how quaint." And then he left the room by a different door, with only one offhand comment that if Angelica was up and about, her black outfit would fit the southern sitting room perfectly. She stood for a moment; her head bowed in submission, and then proceeded to get dressed. Still, she thought on what Damien had said about Sparro's indifference... and found herself thinking more on the recently formed Mashiekeh. Perhaps his blood could still be made to boil...

Allie awoke with a moan, and was startled to discover she had been awakened by an orgasm. Her hand had crept south in her sleep, and the moistness there was more than enough to let her know what she had been doing. The dream had been delicious, to say the least, with numerous sex acts all involving Kyle...

That brought her up short. Kyle had commanded just that, that she should sleep and dream of him. Even since submitting and calling him her Master, she had never dreamed that his control could be so complete. It simultaneously made her terrified and aroused, and she collapsed back onto her bed in confusion.

She had been very excited to see him in the Golden Dancer, so sexy and confidant that she'd decided on the spot to sleep with him if the opportunity allowed. She had gone without for some time, and had been aching for release. That alone had been reason enough to go to the Dancer half dressed.

He had been much more than she expected, however. His every move had seemed specially designed to arouse her more, and every time he spoke, she obeyed. There was no feeling of compulsion, of being driven; it was as if his words rewrote her will even as they were spoken. What will she had left.

If nothing else, Allie had become accustomed to being able to have sex whenever the need called. She was easily attractive enough to get attention, and in her experience most men needed little else. But Kyle had taken that and twisted it... sex was a service rendered, with payment due. In return for satisfying her needs, he had demanded her mind, body, and soul... her complete subjugation to his will. She had accepted, and it had seemed a bargain at the time.

As she stood, she thought on it. He had not even really demanded all of that, never in words, anyway. She had offered it, given it, and it had been received. Even now she could feel his brand on her mind and soul, like a tag of ownership. His commands prevented shame for that, but in shame's place was a quivering pleasure. She was owned, a pet. A pet, who, she reflected, missed her master very much.

There had been little time to think after he had ordered her to bed... she had never fallen asleep so quickly in her life. But she had known why her Master was not with her. He had gone with Andrea, with little doubt as to what was to come next. Andrea, though more reserved than Allie, had no difficulty bedding any man once he was in her clutches, and Kyle had shown no desire to make things end any different. Jealousy flared up briefly, followed by a flash of confusion. Kyle had offered no promises other than her own fulfillment. She desperately needed him, to be used by him, to be made subject to his will, to be dominated, and she was aware that beggars could not be choosers. It was not hers to question, only to obey. The thought settled comfortably in Allie's now thoroughly domesticated mind. The very thought of obedience sent a tingling between her legs that almost dropped her back to the bed.

The arousal could not be denied, and she relaxed into it. Obedience... she barely had time to form the thought before the tingling grew inside her. She relaxed back onto her bed, and began speaking a slow mantra: "Obedience. I am obedient, I must obey. Master. I must obey Master. I belong to Master. Master commands obedience. I will obey Master. I love to obey Master. I am obedience, I am submission, I am... a... slave..." It was some time before her mind calmed enough to permit thoughts in word form again, and when she was aware enough to think, she found herself daydreaming about Kyle as she gazed at the ceiling.

Her mind, still clouded by the occasional wave of pleasure, finally managed a speculative thought, though it took some time to process. Her night with Kyle had led to this... she had obeyed him almost immediately, and her will had been shaped during the night to comply with his. But last night he had spent with Andrea. Was she also now bound to him by her need for release, subjugated by her own sexuality to his will? The thought excited her... Master was not likely to spurn her interest if it simultaneously involved another pet as well...

Andrea woke slowly, and felt a weakness that she could not explain. The clock reported that she had been asleep for nearly twelve hours... and yet she felt like she had not slept but a couple of minutes. A quick look about her confirmed that she had not been dreaming... her best lingerie lay in a crumpled heap by the bed, her best candles had burned completely away, and the room held the unmistakable musk of decidedly fervent lovemaking. She realized that she was still completely naked, and her body was sticky with dried sweat... not to mention the other liquids.

More memories flowed back. Fervent wasn't the beginning of it, she had never experienced sex in such an amazing way. She normally would have had to work to keep a man going that long, but Kyle had never stopped, until her body had been completely exhausted by the exertion. More than that, though, she had reached levels of pleasure she hadn't felt possible. It had been like every bit of her essence had been converted into raw sexual power, a complete abdication of thought in the heat of sex. She had not thought it possible for a man to outlast a woman, but it had happened. She had never been as satiated in her life.

She glanced to her left, and was only slightly disappointed to discover that Kyle wasn't there anymore. After sleeping for so long, she would have been more surprised to discover that he'd stayed. In fact, it was almost a relief... she didn't think her weakened body was up to another round of such lovemaking, and she didn't think her will was strong enough to avoid the same had he still been there.

The tiredness prevented her from rising. Instead, she lay back and idly played with her right breast as she thought of the night before, the pleasure, passion, and how soon she could experience it all again. A quiver struck, and her hand had begun to encourage it when there was a knock on the door. She barely managed to suppress a curse as she pulled a sheet over her body, and reluctantly called for the knocker to come in.

Allie entered slowly, looking around as she did. She was disappointed, though Andrea couldn't explain how she knew. Andrea was fully aware of why Allie was disappointed, however. She had also been hoping to find Kyle. A brief moment of jealousy occurred to Andrea. Kyle was going to be hers, no matter that Allie had seen him first, and, Andrea suspected, had slept with him first. It was a painful thought, but hadn't seemed so important the previous night. "Well? Come in." Allie did so, closing the door behind her.

Allie's clothes confirmed Andrea's suspicions. She was wrapped in a silk robe that was all but transparent, and her body curves accentuated by underwear designed with that purpose. Hardly typical garb for a Saturday morning. Sharing the apartment meant that they were both aware of the others sexy nightwear, but neither had ever had occasion to see it before. It occurred to Andrea that Allie had been in the next room the whole time, and she turned a dark red. She looked up at Allie almost defiantly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." The answer leaped from Allie's lips, and they were both taken by surprise. Allie rarely missed the chance for a sarcastic quip when the opportunity presented itself. "I... I... was just wondering if he... I mean... if you needed... anything..." she trailed off helplessly, as though just realizing what she was wearing. "I'll just... let you..." In desperation she almost leaped to open the door to get out.

"Wait!" Andrea sat up. She had never seen Allie so thrown off balance before. Allie's motion to the door stopped like she'd hit a brick wall. "There is something between you and him, isn't there?"

Allie's eyes opened wide, a panicked look. She clearly wanted to avoid the question, but instead answered "Yes..." before even thinking.

Andrea studied her carefully. Allie was nervous, but also surprised, and... horny? Andrea knew, though she couldn't have said how. "Sit down. We have much to discuss."

Allie dropped resignedly into the chair, even while nodding in agreement. A second ago she hadn't been... but now it was obvious to her that discussion was necessary. Andrea picked that up as clearly as if she was receiving a full printout of her flat mate's feelings. She also noticed that she was beginning to feel stronger, as if this brief discussion was more restful than the whole twelve hours of sleep preceding it.

"When did you last see Kyle before last night?" Allie's eyes again opened wide, but the words rolled out of her mouth as though of her own volition.

"We met... the night before. At the Golden Dancer."

Andrea's head perked up at that. "He was the friend you ran into? But that was just... the night before..." Allie nodded helplessly. Andrea was stunned. He had slept with them both in the space of twenty-four hours. His glib remark concerning having the both of them at one suddenly took on an entirely new meaning for her. He really had considered it.

She knew she should be angry. At Kyle, for doing such a thing. At Allie, for not speaking up. At herself, for being so forward. But she wasn't. There was not a single regret in her... the pleasure of the night before left room for nothing but the desire for more. Her resolve firmed. He would be hers, not Allie's. After all, given the choice of them both, hadn't he chosen Andrea? "Where does your relationship with him stand now?" After all, Allie might feel completely rejected. She would, of course, want Andrea to spurn him as well. There was no chance of that, however. Allie was a friend, but Kyle... he was little less than a sex god.

For the first time, Allie did not answer immediately. It was not for lack of desire to answer, rather, she seemed torn. "I... I... can't tell you..."

"Why not?"

"Because... he told me not to tell anyone..."

"Come on, Allie. Haven't we always been able to tell each other anything? Are you going to let a man interfere with that?" The fact that Andrea had already chosen Kyle's sex over Allie's friendship was completely beside the point.

Allie was struggling, but remained silent. Outwardly she appeared thoughtful, but on the inside, Andrea knew, she was deeply conflicted. But over what? And how on earth did she know?

There had also been a gradual change in attitude. Allie hadn't been meeting Andrea's eyes, but there was no shame involved. That, of course, was ridiculous. Anyone would be shamed to sleep with someone, and then have him sleep with her best friend the following night, with no show of hiding it. What was more, Allie had always used the submissive act with great results with the guys, but now she was being genuinely submissive. Andrea decided to test it.

"Allie, stand up in front of me." Allie did so, immediately. "Now, you will tell me exactly what your relationship with Kyle is like."

"But... he told me not to..." her voice was quiet desperation.

"And you always do exactly what he says?" Andrea asked incredulously.

"Yes. He is my..." Allie cut off. If her eyes had widened before, they almost popped out of her head now.

Andrea was not about to let up. "He is your... what? Tell me!"

The conflict reached a breaking point, and Allie crumpled internally. Her voice was a barely audible whisper. "He is my Master."

Whatever Andrea had expected, that was not it. She was a moment responding. "He... He's your Master?"

"Yes." The response was monotone, her eyes downcast.

"But... wait... you mean that you obey him? Are you his slave?"

That broke Allie out her apparent defeat. A smile appeared on her face. "Yes... I obey... I am his slave..." The words were almost purred. On of her hands started moving towards her crotch, as her eyes closed. It was like she had forgotten that Andrea was there.

"Stop!" The hand pulled away from her crotch as though burned. Allie again assumed a submissive posture. Andrea's head was spinning. "You obey him... like you're obeying me now?"

Allie hadn't thought of it that way, but did now. Suddenly she grinned. "Yes, just like right now."

"Why?"

Allie looked confused for a moment. She almost said she didn't know, but then a slight glaze entered her eyes, and her hand started wandering again. "Obedience. I am obedient, I must obey. Master. I must obey Master. I belong to Master. Master commands obedience. I will obey Master. I love to obey Master. I am obedience, I am submission, I am... a... slave..."

Again, Andrea commanded her to stop. Allie's eyes popped open, a wild look in them. Over the course of the conversation, Allie's thoughts had become simpler. Now they begged for release, her complete essence screaming for sexual satisfaction.

On the other hand, Andrea had never felt better, well, exempting last night, she admitted to herself. The weakness was gone, replaced by a feeling of power. Allie wanted to submit... well... that could be used.

"Allie, kneel." Obedience was instant, and did not distract at all from the burning fires that were scouring Allie's mind blank. "How did Kyle become your master?"

Allie's eyes rolled, trying to marshal enough presence of mind to answer. "He... told me... that if... I obeyed..." At the word obey, she lost her track of thought, and was about a minute recovering again. "Then... he would give me... release... so I obeyed. I am obedience... I... am... a..."

"A slave, yes, I know." Allie shuddered through waves of pleasure. Andrea touched a finger to her lips, considering. Then she smiled. "I suppose a slave must be available to her master at his every request. Well, understand this. Kyle is mine. I may choose to share him, but if you ever want that sharing, you must be a good little slave... to me. Otherwise, I will never permit you to see him."

Andrea had expected anger, disappointment, maybe even resignation. She did not, however expect what came. Allie became even more aroused, but her eyes locked firmly on Andrea. "Yes, Mistress. I will serve you, and Master. I obey."

Something else was burning in Andrea, now. Her libido was back. She wanted Kyle, but realized she had no idea where to find him. She had a feeling he could not stay away from Allie forever, though. What man could resist a sex slave? In fact... she focused on Allie's lithe, aroused, and submissive form.

Andrea smiled, and then cast the sheet back as she spread her legs. "I desire diversion for the afternoon, slave. Your service is required. Now." While not a lesbian, Andrea needed something, and Allie was handy. She was also a link to Kyle, a fact that alone made her somewhat attractive.

"Yes, Mistress." Allie crawled onto the bed. She had experimented in college, and knew what to do. Her tongue quickly found what she was looking for, and it was some time before either of them had a coherent thought again.

Sparro turned to his young apprentice, who watched the scene before him with wide eyes. Twice he had moved to interfere, but Sparro had restrained him. All unnoticed by the girls, of course, by Sparro's design. The sexuality being revealed in this room had been a pleasant enough meal for the both of them, and had also served as an object lesson for the new Mashiekeh. "Do you know why I brought you here?"

Kyle shook his head, though his eyes never left the scene before him. Andrea had again collapsed into a satisfied sleep, while Allie slept curled at her feet. Sparro clicked his tongue in irritation. "You must see what affects we have upon people. Our control is different from anything you might have imagined. Minds reacting to us are shaped by our desires, and if they are not monitored, anything might happen. Consider that one." His hand waved at Allie. "She was little more than a walking libido before, but that was before you taught her obedience. For her, sex and obedience have merged at a level so deep it is beyond compare. I believe she had something of a submissive streak before you met, but I think that now you would have trouble locating a more compliant mind even among my pets."

Sparro waited as his apprentice absorbed this, all while admiring Allie's form. She was a fine specimen, but there was more to teach. "And her. Do you think that merely because you gave no direct commands she would merely awake remembering a night of good sex? Sex like what you gave her changes lives, minds, and sex drives. The word nymphomaniac barely begins to describe her now. Not to mention the fact that she now has a certain dominatrix tendency. Remember that those we feed on gain a semblance of our powers, for a time. If you leave a meal alive, do try to ensure that they never have opportunity to use the abilities they gain." Sparro sighed. "When they awake, her powers will have faded away, but that will not change her new role as a mistress to the first. Or her liking to the role. Of course, she is imprinted on you. I suspect there is very little she would not do to have you in her clutches again. Use this correctly, and you will have even more power over her than the other. Do you see now?"

Kyle nodded, and Sparro supposed that he really did. He was a bright boy, but there was much more to learn. "We do not just pop in and out of people's lives, remember that. What we influence, we change completely. Their minds have been completely reshaped, in almost obvious ways. This is the power that I have given to you."

It was an impressive moment, even for a Mashiekeh as old as Sparro. He let it last. There was something rather novel about the two nude female forms before them, even motionless as they were. Eventually, he spoke again. "Now. That little exhibition was fine enough for a snack, but I am hungry. A true hunt, tonight. I believe your powers are up to it, now. Let's go. You can claim these two Domestics later... I assure you that they will be waiting and hoping for it."

He turned on heel and left the room, Kyle following behind. A true meal was coming... it had been awhile. Sparro licked his lips.

(After a long absence, I have returned! My thanks to all the folks who sent encouragement, and especially to Allan Frankel who helped with editing, as well as asking me when I was going to get writing again. If you'd like to send comments or criticisms to me, I can be reached at Olorin247@yahoo.com. The usual disclaimers apply here as before, don't read this if too young, if unwilling, if you have a heart condition, if you're locked in mortal combat with a duckbill platypus, etc. Also, in case anyone cares, the proper pronunciation is Mah-SHE-eh-kay. That all said, on to Chapter 4. Enjoy, because Sparro wants you to.)

The Hunt

Mara James stood anxiously on the corner, looking around for any kind of commerce to appear, also ready to disappear the moment she saw a police car. Tony had warned his entire stable that girls had been disappearing of late. He suspected a cop sting, and so had told them to mix up where they practiced their trade.

Mara touched her hair absently. It was all very well for him, he had always worked from the shadows, appearing only in instances of trouble his brawn could handle. When cop problems arose, Tony vanished like the mist. She, on the other hand, had to be visible in order to be profitable, and her payments had gone down of late. She sighed. The reality was that she was quickly getting too old for this line of work, and she wondered what else she could do once it dried up.

A car drove by, startling her. Mara hadn't even heard it coming. It slowed down for a moment, but sped up again almost immediately. She was so surprised at not watching the streets carefully that she almost forgot to be hurt that the driver hadn't decided that she would be worth stopping for.

Settling her nerves, she watched the roads, and the alleyways, very carefully. Yet for all of her nervous observation, she never saw the two figures standing in the shadows, just out of the halo of light from an overhead lamp.

It was not that they were unremarkable, or even that their clothes would hide them well. The taller of the two wore an expensive Armani suit, which while far from colorful, still had enough shiny surfaces to make itself known. His companion was also dressed well, if not as expensively; khakis and a nice shirt, though the outfit bore small stains that would have been difficult to identify without chemistry.

Sparro prided himself on his patience, acquired over centuries of existence. Immortal beings inevitably learned patience or went mad. He was thereby only amused by his companions struggling to approach the whore, held back only by a verbal command. Damien's snarls would have sent her screaming down the street if Sparro had not blocked the two of them from her awareness.

"Why are we waiting, Sparro? You promised me a meal, and I mean to have it." Damien's eyes never left his intended prey, who continued keeping an eye out for potential customers, only frowning slightly as another car drove past, not even slowing this time.

"You could have had one, then. You waited, instead, and now I wish to enjoy the experience with you." Damien began muttering about waiting till nightfall. "Ah yes, I forget sometimes how limited you are. Do not worry, you will have your meal. But it must be done properly, since I am with you. We are waiting for an... Associate... of mine." Sparro's lips quivered into a slight smile at that word. "Ah, he approaches."

A balding, middle-aged man approached them, his shirt dirty and his eyes shifty. "Well, you called, and I came, though I'll be damned if I know why. What do you want this time?"

Sparro resisted the temptation to let Damien feed right then and there. This man was useful -- for now. Besides, he preferred sophistication to brute force. "Ah, Tony. A pleasure, as always, to deal with you. This is an associate of mine," again, he was amused by the word, "by the name of Damien." Tony shot a nervous look at the vampire. "Now, I was wondering if that girl happens to be one of yours."

Tony looked across the street in startlement. "Yeah, that's Mara, all right, though I thought the bitch knew better than to stand alone with business just across the street. If she's forgotten how to work the trade, I'll give her a beating tonight that will damn well remind her."

Sparro raised his hand to end the tirade. "She doesn't see us, Tony. You could scream at her and she'd not hear. It is her I wish to discuss with you."

"Well then, what?"

"I understand you have had a problem recently with some of your, ah, girls disappearing."

Tony swore under his breath. "Yeah. It's probably another sting, though normally they'd be let out by now. They haven't even used their phone call."

Damien smiled in a way that was not designed to soothe. "No, and they won't. You'll never hear from them again." Tony stared at him.

"Easy, easy, old friend." Sparro laughed lightly. "What he says is truth, of course. But what if I could promise you that no more of your girls would disappear in this way? What would that be worth to you?"

Tony brightened slightly. "Those losses have hurt, that's for damned sure. It'd be worth a lot. What do you want?"

"Her." Sparro waved in the whore's general direction. "She will never come back, either, but at least it would be her, and none of your newer acquisitions."

Tony nodded to himself. "Mara used to be one of my best, even had some high rollers call her regular. Not any more though, I think she's about dried up. You want her? And you'll keep your... associate... away from my other girls?" Sparro inclined his head. Tony laughed. "It's a deal. What do you mean to do to her?"

"I mean her as a gift, ultimately, though I'll have some use for her before that. This is permanent, though. Have no doubt of that. Do you wish to say goodbye?"

Tony shook his head. "Nah, she's been a bit uppity of late. I think she wanted to run her own stable, mess up my business. The bitch deserves whatever you have waiting for her. Is that all, then?"

"Quite enough, I assure you. Now, if you don't mind, I have some business to attend to. You may leave. Now." Tony turned on heel and disappeared into the alley he had come from, a surprised look on his face. Doubtlessly, he had never obeyed a direct order so quickly in his life. Sparro glanced at Damien, who had returned to staring at the whore. "Get the car, Damien. It's time for a little fun. I assure you that you will drink your fill at the end of this."

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Kyle stepped slowly into his apartment, looking around idily. It had been no more than three days since he had last left it, but it felt much longer. A lifetime, really, if only a lifetime of three days.

The apartment had never before seemed so confining. He had been ecstatic when the opportunity had first arisen to lease it, he'd never lived so well since leaving home for college. Yet he had grown, and his old trappings felt as confining as a coffin. He would be leaving soon, of course. He just hadn't decided where yet.

Sparro had offered his apartments, for a time. "Just until you get your legs underneath you, Kyle. I have rooms you would find very comfortable and more than enough pets... I even have room for your new domestics." It was the tone that had irked, however. Far better to get his own place. He also did not want Sparro anywhere near Allie or Andrea. They were his. Sparro was right; he had more than enough pets of his own.

"So you've come back finally. I suppose you forgot rent was due yesterday, didn't you?" Kyle turned slowly to face Mrs. Holt, the landlady. She insisted on the Mrs., despite having never married, merely saying she didn't want any of her male lesees to get any ideas. She needn't have bothered; her stocky figure and overbearing attitude would be sure to drive away anyone who would have overlooked her age, well on in her middle years, to begin with.

Kyle nodded to her. "Yes, it had slipped my mind, Mrs. Holt. I apologize. However, I think I'll be out of your hair soon."

"Had a change of luck, did you? Well don't think I'll let you go break lease just because you can afford better. You still have four months on this place. I'll take it all now, and you can walk out, no hard feelings. Less your security deposit, of course."

Kyle smiled... having expected no less from her. She frowned. "Something's different about you, boy. I can't quite tell what, though..." She gave off a smell of confusion that he could have sensed a football field away. She had written him off as a shiftless layabout months before, but was finding that conclusion difficult to hold to now.

"Well, Mrs. Holt. I suppose you could say something has changed. But I don't think you want to worry too much about that." The confusion ended as if cut off with a knife. She agreed... she didn't want to worry about it. "As for the lease, though, I am not quite ready to leave yet, but I suspect that I will soon. When that time comes, will you consider letting me off clean? For old times sake?"

He had moved so that he was standing over her, and she gulped as she looked up at him. The feelings of arousal were so disgusting coming from her that he almost stepped back. "Well, if that's what you want," she stammered, "I suppose that would be the right thing to do,"

"Excellent." Kyle felt an urgent need to get her away from him... thoughts of lust coming from her would almost be enough to put him off the meal he had planned for that night. "You may leave now, then. I will inform you when I am ready to move out." He waited patiently as she bowed out, wishing him well and thanking him for his time. He had planned to make sure she saw things his way, but the taste of her arousal sickened him. There were drawbacks, apparently, to being Mashiekeh.

A quick look around was all it took to find his guitar case and get out to his car. As he tossed it in the back seat, he glanced at his watch... nearly an hour before he was due to play his usual coffee gig. He needed that taste off of his tongue, however. He was about ready to vomit.

He wasn't sure when exactly he made his decision, but before he knew it he was pulling up in front of the building where Allie and Andrea lived. Apparently they had seen him coming, no sooner was he approaching their door than it was thrown open by Andrea, wearing an expensive bit of nothing much. A week earlier he would have stammered and stared. As it was, he smiled, tapped her on the nose, and walked in.

The apartment had changed. It was as if Andrea's lair had spread to fill the entire apartment. Andrea smiled, and laid out on a couch , her eyes full of invitation. They were the only ones in the room.

Kyle smiled, and then turned his head slightly. "Allie, come here!"

Andrea frowned, but brought her smile back quickly. "She's, uh, not here right now, family emergency, I believe..."

Kyle's smile was gone. She was there, all right, in her room. And torn between commands. He looked at Andrea, and shook his head. "I am disappointed in you, Andrea. Very well. Allie! Master says come!"

The door practically exploded open. Allie was naked save for a collar around her neck. She threw herself to the floor in front of Kyle, but looked up at Andrea like a dog expecting a kick. "I...I...I'm sorry, mistress... I... had to... obey..."

It took a second for Andrea to look at Kyle again. A tear ran down her cheek. "I... you were supposed to be mine, Kyle..."

He smiled, but the look held no warmth. "I command, Andrea. You may have Allie for your purposes but she belongs to me. I will deal with you shortly, but I need something else now. I don't have a lot of time. Allie, you may serve your Master."

*******************************************************************

The drive was uneventful, for the most part. Mara seemed to get more uncomfortable the farther the car went from her corner, but clearly wasn't going to say anything. She had openly gaped at the amount of money Sparro had given her, with the promise of as much again once services were rendered. The whole thing smelled funny, but she couldn't turn it down. That had been obvious from the get go.

She looked at her companion, a tad shyly. High Rollers were a finicky bunch, very demanding of protocol, and if a little submissiveness meant they became regulars, they were more than worth it. Yet she couldn't help examining him, as it were, out of the corner of her eye. Something about him wasn't right, but she couldn't decide what, exactly.

It wasn't that he was unattractive; in fact, he was good-looking enough that she might have considered him for free during her off-hours. No, it was something about his face. He could easily have been in his thirties, yet something about his eyes conveyed an impression of age that was almost beyond comprehension. The way he spoke bothered her as well, as if she heard what he said not only with her ears, but in her soul itself.

"I must warn you that I am taking you to a part of town that might be slightly... alarming. The Warehouse district, to be precise. I live there, quite comfortably, I assure you, to avoid the chaos of downtown. I'm sure you understand." Mara found herself nodding in agreement. Downtown could be chaotic, and the Warehouse district was quiet, except when people were getting shot. He spoke again, "I assure you, you have nothing to fear from the gangs. I have an arrangement with them, and they will not bother you." Mara smiled. It was nice to know the gangs would not bother her. She did not have to fear them at all.

When the car stopped, Mara found herself escorted into what appeared to be a warehouse from without and a palace from within. She gazed at the furnishings in amazement. She had seen money before, but knew that this place was a treasure trove, an indicator of wealth beyond anything she'd ever known. She was simultaneously delighted and frightened. Money like this could set her up as a Madam in no time... and could also arrange for her to disappear.

She was so busy gaping at the decor that at first she did not see the blond enter the room. Sparro nodded to the newcomer. "Ahhh, Angelica. Have you fully recovered?"

The blond knelt in a way so graceful it was as if she was dancing. "Yes, Master. I am fully recovered. Do you wish to feed?"

Sparro smiled. "Not with you, my dear. As you can see, I have a different dinner guest tonight. You may rest in the east room tonight. Inform Cassandra that I wish for her to be at your disposal. You will resume your normal duties tomorrow."

"As you wish." The words were full of subservience, with a hint of disappointment, but Angelica was gone before Mara could think to speak.

"It seems you already have enough flesh to fill any man's desires, sir. Am I really here to be a dinner guest?"

Sparro glanced at her. "You, my dear Mara, are here for a change of pace. Angelica is incredible but I can have her any day. You are new, exciting. Dinner will be served soon, but not before we are made ready. Nicola! Cheri!"

At his call, two other girls entered the room, the first a curvy Latino and the second a rather buxom redhead. They were too graceful to be amateurs, yet far too beautiful to be whores. Mara was feeling more confused by the moment, wondering how insatiable her new employer was. After the newcomers had knelt, Sparro gave orders. "This is Mara. You are to dress her as I instructed, and then take her to the special room in the north wing. I will be there shortly, be sure everything is as I ordered." With that, he turned to Mara. "These will take care of you. Do as they say... your time is coming soon."

*******************************************************************

It was a rather relieved Kyle who carried his guitar into the crowded coffee shop. He had sampled his domestics briefly but was careful to keep the sharpness of his appetite. He had been planning this evening carefully, and was determined that not even his unfortunate encounter with Mrs. Holt would keep him from suitably enjoying himself.

The shop was crowded for a reason... it appeared that word of his last concert had spread. As he walked in people began cheering, and with a smile and a nod he set up shop. It took only a few moments to tune his guitar, and just like that he was playing, with subtly reworded songs.

He didn't think he could reproduce his previous performance without Sparro's help, and he had specifically requested that Sparro not be present. Instead, the words of his songs had commands, and the audience, of course, was obeying. Thoughts of love, bitterness, or sadness came from them easily, all depending on what he wanted them to feel. It was as if his guitar was merely a technicality, the audience was his instrument.

Sparro had been right, as usual. It had been a true buffet of emotion and feeling, and Kyle was feeling stronger, more alive than ever before. He could with a glance single one person's emotions from the crowd, and after that they were his.

It became a challenge, looking for new things to do with them. A pair who had been complete strangers when he entered was making out by the time he finished, and several fairly uptight couples had swapped partners. The only limit seemed to be his own imagination. In the end the show was quite as successful as before, and another solid amount of money was left for him.

Finally, the time came to depart. It took some time, signing autographs, selling the last of his tapes and cd's, and making even more money than previously. It seemed stale. Kyle supposed money would still have its uses, but it had become something of a non-issue. When finally everyone had cleared off, he started to his car, when suddenly he realized he wasn't alone.

"That was the best show I've ever seen." It wasn't her voice that identified her, but Kyle knew who it was immediately. Her sweet fragrance filled his nostrils, charm, humor, and a touch of naïveté. He turned to face her.

"Hello, Marlena. I didn't notice you at the show."

She blushed slightly. "I didn't get off work until a little while ago, but what I saw..." nervousness rose up in her again, as it had in the Golden Dancer, a lifetime before. "You're incredible. I didn't see your girlfriend there, though..." The dark hid the color that entered her face, but Kyle could feel the heat of embarrassment as though it was his own.

"Allie isn't my girlfriend. Merely a rather flirty acquaintance."

Marlena raised an eyebrow, a sense of amusement rising in her. "I see. I can't imagine how you would dance with a girlfriend, if that is how you dance with an acquaintance."

Kyle laughed. Of course she had been watching. "Dancing is dancing, I suppose. I'm glad you enjoyed the show." And with that, he opened the door to his car. She stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"I did enjoy it. I'm sorry about prying, anyway. Just thought I'd tell you... I can't imagine with success like you're having you'll be around here much longer. Well, I'd better let you get going." She started to turn away.

"Wait." She turned back to him. As he looked at her, he took her in again, her smell, her quiet confidence. Her eyes, a brilliant blue, held his for a moment. She was beautiful, completely beautiful. "I just so happen to have a bit of loose cash, would you like to get something to drink?"

A warm glow of happiness grew in her, telling him her answer before she could reply vocally. With a smile, he opened his passenger door for her.

*******************************************************************

Mara lay back on the couch, trying to clear her head. She had been given a dress wear, somewhat old fashioned, but nonetheless as beautiful as it was expensive. The blue silk seemed to caress her skin, as the lace tickled where it brushed her wrists and breasts.

The couch was in a room that belonged in a museum, with old-looking vases next to medieval suits of armor. Unlike the rest of the rooms she'd seen, it looked slightly disarrayed, as though her employer wasn't as demanding of the decor.

The door opened, and Mara jumped to her feet as her employer walked in. He smiled. "I see you are ready, Mara. Does the dress suit you?"

Mara gulped. "Yes, uh, sir." The other girls in the apartments had all called her employer master, but he had, as yet, not demanded it of her. Still, it couldn't help to be accommodating. Curiosity was pounding in her, and she had to ask: "Please, sir, what am I supposed to do here? You have so many beautiful girls already, what could you want with me?"

He smiled again, with a slightly unnerving expression. "Many things, Mara, I assure you. The others call me master because for them, that is what I am. You, however, may call me Sparro, for now."

He hadn't answered her question, but protocol had to be followed. "Ok, Sparro, if that's what you want."

"It is." The silence stretched, and as he watched her she began to wonder if she should pose, or maybe strip, but something held her motionless. He chuckled. "To answer your question, you could say that I am something of a connoisseur. My pets supply me with almost my every need, but there are certain services that I prefer to go elsewhere for, a change of pace. I am much older than I look, my dear, and I find that sometimes it is difficult to break the ennui. Towards that end, allow me to introduce my associate, Damien."

The doors banged open again, and there was the driver from before, a cold smile on his face. Unlike everything else she had seen here, he was not decorative at all, his clothes rumpled and spattered. His lips parted, and she saw his teeth and gasped, taking a step backwards so quickly she fell to the couch.

Sparro closed his eyes for a moment, licking his lips. "Ahhh, so perceptive. Do not disbelieve your lovely eyes, my dear. Damien is a vampire, a creature of death and decay. A very thirsty creature of death and decay. Apparently his appetites had been hurting Tony's business, and he was quite willing to sacrifice you in order to protect the rest of his stable. Tony seems to feel that, much like the other things in this room, you have outlived your usefulness."

Mara stared at the vampire, hypnotized, barely hearing what was being said. Fear. Pure, unabashed terror poured through her, a scream attempted to escape from her throat and failed. Inside, something told her to run, to escape, but she could only put up a hand, trying to ward away the vampire, and Sparro's words. She closed her eyes tightly, and prayed. She couldn't remember the last time she had prayed.

"Open your eyes, Mara." The command came, and Mara obeyed almost without comprehending. "Your eyes are to remain opened. Damien, you have my blessing." It wasn't until the vampire began moving towards her that the scream finally came from her lips, but the thick walls of the warehouse contained them without difficulty.

*******************************************************************

It was the sort of date Marlena had always dreamed about having, when discussing the shortcomings of men with her friends. Afterwards she would think back on it as an incredible blur, with one thing leading to another so quickly that she might have believed it a dream, if not for the large amount of physical evidence to the contrary.

It had started innocently enough, driving to a small bar just outside of city limits that served what she would later describe as "the greatest Margaritas known to man." They hadn't drunk very much, Kyle barely touched his drink at all. Marlena drank all of hers, but it took awhile, so engrossed was she in the conversation. She quickly discovered that Kyle was an excellent listener, absorbing everything and sharing in return. He was so warm, so caring, and so attentive that she found herself baring her soul, making herself vulnerable in ways she had not done with anyone before.

After paying for the drinks, they had left and gone for a walk, which she guided to her place, almost without thinking about it. When they arrived, she announced where they were with a slight smile, and suddenly kissed him. At first it was a warm kiss, suitable between two friends, but suddenly it had turned into something else; fiery, passionate, overwhelming.

From that moment on, the details had become rather fuzzy, though that hardly seemed important. She had no clear memory of climbing the steps, unlocking the door or entering the apartment, in fact, she was almost positive they had managed it without ever disengaging the kiss. Their clothes had proved slightly more complicated, and buttons were scattered all over from being torn off in haste, lying primarily in front of her door.

Looking around, she saw that buttons were not the only signs of what had happened. Dishes lay shattered on the floor after being swept off the table, where they had made love first. Merely looking at it made her remember him inside her, her breathing coming in gasps between thrusts. After they had tried to make it to the bed, but the couch had been closer, its pillows now scattered all over the living room. On the third try they had reached the bed, which now held the unmistakable smells of two bodies on the brink of exhaustion. Afterwards, she had gone to take a shower. He had joined her, and she briefly considered it a wonder that neither of them had drowned.

Now, all was quiet, and she looked across the pillows to see him, looking back at her. She smiled. "That," she said, stretching where she lay, "was the most incredible night I've ever had."

Kyle reached across the pillow, and brushed some hair away from her face. "I've never met anyone like you before, that's for sure. I didn't even..." he broke off.

She pulled herself up onto her elbows. "Didn't even... what?"

"Never mind." He smiled at her, and then started getting up. "Well, I can honestly say that tonight went far better than I had planned. However, there are a few things I have to attend to."

"Such as?"

"Old business to take care of. Nothing Earth shattering." And with that, he started getting dressed, as well as he could without buttons.

Marlena stood up. "Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"I hope that we are more than acquaintances now. Are we?"

He stopped, and looked at her for a long time, a look that seemed to gaze into her soul. She shivered. Then he answered. "Yes... yes, we are."

Something about how he said it bothered her. "What is it?"

"It's just that, well, I didn't expect ever to have this again." He kneeled on the bed in front of her, then kissed her. "It is a very pleasant surprise, to be sure. I will call you tonight." And with that, he was gone. She lay back onto the bed, trying to sort out her very complicated feelings.

*******************************************************************

Sparro leaned back into his easy chair, sipping chardonnay and humming to himself. For anyone as old as he, new experiences were gifts from the gods, the only thing that could keep him going. Tonight had been a night of pure gluttony for him, with terror, pain, and ecstasy all serving as main courses. He replaced the glass on the tray where Cheri held it, her mind closed to the scene before her by Sparro's command. Though her own horror might have been an interesting side course, one did not go about maiming one's own pets.

He looked up from his pet to survey the scene before him. Much of the old silk dress Mara had been wearing was torn away, with only bits still clinging to her body here and there. Blood still seeped from numerous bites, on her neck, her wrists, even her breasts. She had stopped screaming nearly an hour before, and had stopped struggling not long after that. Now, all that was left were the short gasps she gave as Damien raped her, for the sixth time tonight -- or was it the seventh? Sparro thought about it and realized he couldn't remember, then dismissed the line of thought. The point was, she was still alive, though barely.

The performance had been admirable, and Sparro had decided halfway into it that Damien deserved a reward for his efforts. It was slightly ironic, he thought, that the only real pain would come while the girl was being raped, whereas the bites themselves transported her mind into helpless ecstasy, the likes of which Sparro had sampled only briefly in the past. The bite of the Nosferatu was truly an amazing thing, and no doubt quite useful. Under such ecstasy, no one could think to struggle. Sparro supposed that many broken teeth were avoided that way.

It was almost completely played out now, though. Damien held Mara down by the scruff of her neck, her cheek pressed against the badly stained couch, while he ravaged her from behind. Her mind, by Sparro's order, still clung to consciousness, though only a slight, distant pleasure, spiked with pain, remained. It was almost done, she was almost finished. Damien began panting eagerly as he bent over her, ready to drain the last of her lifeblood...

"Stop." Damien looked up, surprised. "Release her for the moment, and step away." Damien obeyed, of course. As he pulled out of her, her body collapsed to the couch, broken and used, but still clinging to life.

"What now? There is little left to be gotten out of her, Sparro, but I mean to have it."

"You have done well, Damien. Better than I had hoped for, truth be told. You will be rewarded greatly. You remember Tony?"

"The fat pimp?"

Sparro smiled at the description. "Yes. He has been an annoyance for some time, and is a true waste. How would you like to drain him dry?"

Damien licked his lips. Sparro interpreted the gesture as an affirmative. "I promised him that his stable would remain untouched, and I always keep my word. However, they will soon no longer be his."

The vampire laughed at this, then looked again at the whore before him. "And what about her?"

"I wish to reward her as well. I want you to turn her. I have never felt the transformation of a vampire before and I wish to feel it now."

Damien nodded slowly. "If that is your wish. I may have the whole pimp?"

"Every last drop, and I will not interfere in the least, so long as you dispose of the body properly. Now quickly, before she dies."

"She will die anyway, but as you wish." Walking back to the couch, the vampire turned Mara's limp body over, then with a vicious bite opened his own vein at the wrist, holding it over her mouth, letting the dark red fluid pour into her mouth while stroking her throat to make her swallow it. It lasted for nearly a minute before the wound healed.

"It will take time, but it has begun. By dawn, she will be a vampiress." Sparro nodded, and Damien redressed. "Now, with your permission, I would go and claim my prize."

"With my blessings." Damien wasted no time, walking quickly out of the room.

For a moment, there was only silence, as Mara's breathing became more and more labored. Suddenly, she began screaming again. Sparro smiled, leaned back, and let the new sensations flow into him.

*******************************************************************

When Kyle finally got back in his car, his thoughts were broken and confused. He had thought himself past true relationships, and had never imagined that a Mashiekeh might still be vulnerable to feelings such as love. The night had been intense, and amazing, and he had never fed on Marlena. Filled nearly to bursting from his concert, he had never thought to draw more, but had used his powers only to please her. It was a good feeling, of course, but hardly what he had expected. He idly wondered what Sparro would say about it.

Shaking his head, he started up his car and drove off. He had almost gotten back to his apartment when he remembered certain matters that had to be cleared up first. With a sigh, he turned around and drove toward Andrea and Allie's place. He felt tired, and decided that a nap would be just what he needed, after he had taken care of his pets for the night.

Arriving at the apartment building, he began walking up the stairs, still thinking about Marlena, and wondering how she was going to impact his life from that point on, and what he was going to do about his pets. He heard them before he saw them, Andrea's cries became audible almost as soon as he entered the building. When he opened their door, they became so loud that he closed quickly behind him before she woke the whole building up.

"Oh GOD! PLEASE! PLEASE, JUST STOP, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, PLEEEEASE!" He took a moment to get a Coke from the fridge before walking into the bedroom. There they were as he had left them, Andrea tightly tied to the bed, with Allie lying between her legs, licking her mistress eagerly, showing signs of having experienced several orgasms herself.

"That's enough, Allie." Immediately Allie stopped, getting off the bed and kneeling, looking up adoringly at her master. Andrea was left gasping for breath, her eyes rolling wildly, attempting to focus. "How long?"

Allie thought for a moment, glancing at a clock. "Nearly nine hours, Master."

"Did she come?"

"No, Master. She was very obedient."

"And yourself?"

"Eight times, Master. Thank you for allowing me to do so." With that, she shot a triumphant look at Andrea, whose breathing was finally beginning to slow.

Kyle smiled. "Now, now, Allie, you've been a very good girl, no point in getting too uppity with your mistress. Go to your room and get some sleep, and be ready to serve her again in the morning."

Allie smiled, stood, and scampered out of the room. Before closing the door, she turned, almost shyly, and asked; "May I dream of you, Master?"

"You may. Sleep well." She smiled, then closed the door. Kyle turned his attention back on to Andrea, whose eyes were just coming back into focus. "Now, have you been suitably chastened, Andrea?"

Her eyes locked onto his, desperate. He could feel the raw frustration hemorrhaging out of her, product of nearly nine hours of constant stimulation without the release of orgasm. It was a wonder she hadn't lost her mind, he hadn't intended to be gone for so long. She licked her lips, then answered. "Y-y-yes, Kyle. It was wrong of me to keep your s-s-slave from you, I'm very s-s- sorry..." she seemed on the verge of tears, but he resolved to not be moved.

"I'm afraid you have lost the privilege of my name, Andrea. I am master now to you, just like to Allie. You may remain her mistress, but only because I cannot be bothered to worry about her all the time. You are to take proper care of her, and not punish her in any way for tonight. Do you understand?"

"Yes." He raised an eyebrow, and she quickly amended; "Yes, Master."

"Good girl." He turned and began leaving the room, but stopped when she started whimpering. "Oh, very well. You will remain tied up until Allie unties you in the morning, but for now... remember the stimulation you just had." Her eyes bulged again, and her entire body began trembling as waves of pleasure flew through her. "Now you may come." He walked out of the apartment, followed first by her orgasmic screams, and then by quiet. No doubt she had fallen asleep; she had almost been as exhausted as aroused.

He arrived at home, tossing his coat on the rack and finally going to sleep himself. As he drifted to sleep, he went over the events of the night. "Not bad for my first hunt," he thought in the dark.

(Yet another chapter written! My thanks to all who have given support, with e-mails of support, constructive criticism, and even suggestions. All of the above can be sent to me at Olorin247@yahoo.com. The same warnings given in previous chapters apply here. Copyright mine, etc. Enjoy!)

The Rebellion

Rain poured down on the city as bright peals of lightning arced across the sky. The thunder that followed momentarily was enough to penetrate the thick walls of Sparro's home, though inside the mighty pounding was reduced to a low rumble. The noise was muted, but still proved intense enough to wake the dead.

Green eyes opened in the dark, and looked about the room slowly. They held a slight, unnatural glow, and penetrated the shadow far more than was humanly possible, because they were no longer human. Mara James had never had poor eyesight, but what she was experiencing now was no less than near perfect vision in almost complete darkness.

Slowly, carefully, she pushed herself up from the couch. It was as comfortable now as it had been some hours before, though closer inspection revealed it to be badly stained. The stains in particular seemed to glow under her scrutiny, and she knew them immediately for what they were: blood.

The smell of blood tickled in her nose, and she began to feel thirsty. It was a thirst unlike any she had known before, a deep longing, an urgent need. She licked her lips, considered, then lowered her head to the cushions, and began licking them.

"I would greatly prefer if you didn't do that, my dear."

Snarling, Mara crouched low, ready pounce, her eyes blinking in the light that suddenly flooded the room. The tall man standing before her was familiar somehow, though she couldn't place why, exactly. "Who are you?"

He smiled, an infuriatingly superior expression. "Has it been so long, Mara? But Damien hinted it might be like this. I am Sparro, and would rather not watch you lick your own dried blood off of my couch. You see, I am a man of somewhat... tender... sensibilities." At these words he laughed.

The thirst called, and instinctively Mara answered, leaping from the couch and running at him as fast as she could, which was considerably faster than she ever could before. She had just long enough to see another sparkle of amusement enter his eyes when he raised his hand. "Stop."

Suddenly, it was as if the air around her had become solid as stone, and she could move no farther, frozen in place like a statute, excepting only her grinding teeth. He watched her for a moment, then nodded. "Please, sit back down. We have much to discuss."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than she felt her self walking back to the couch, feeling a distinct prickle of pleasure as she sat upon the blood stains. He studied her for a minute, then smiled. "I have it. I've been trying to classify you, you see. Everyone here has a specific niche... and you of course will have to have yours. Angelica!"

A gorgeous blond entered from a side door. Mara could almost feel the heat of the woman's pumping blood, and again felt thirsty, but was unable to leave the couch. Sparro glanced at her, and then turned his attention back to the blond, who had knelt beside him. "I think we finally have a perfect match for the dark room, Angelica. Take her there and dress her properly." With that he turned back to Mara. "We will proceed with your training later. For now, though... you will obey Angelica here as you do me. You are not to harm her or any of my pets without my express permission, and you are not to feed at all without my blessing. Now, don't pout. Run along and be a good girl, I'll train you soon enough."

It wasn't until Mara was meekly following the blond, finding her bad mood dissolving, that she completely registered what he had said. Angelica turned to her, with a slight grin. "You'll get used to it after awhile. Now, enjoy yourself! A whole new life is opening to you!"

And with that, Mara was suddenly having an excellent time.

*******************************************************************

The storm was blowing more and more fiercely all the time, and Kyle only barely made it to Sparro's apartments without wrecking his car. It occurred to him that it could be easily replaced, but that wasn't the point. Rushing to get slightly less than completely soaked, he pulled open the door and entered the old warehouse, taking the elevator up to where the old Mashiekeh lived.

The rooms were mostly empty, with the occasional pet taking a brief moment to kneel before resuming their chores. Sparro certainly kept them busy. Molly, an exquisite redhead acquired in Edinburgh, was posing mostly naked in the East sitting room, various erotic poses that must have required a certain level of Yoga to reach, her silk semi-covering perfectly matching the surrounding furniture. Kyle sat down to wait for Sparro, admiring Molly and wondering how Allie would like such a role.

"Well now, my young friend. You seem rather satisfied. I assume your, ah, concert went as planned?"

Kyle looked up at Sparro. Something about the old man radiated gluttony momentarily fulfilled. Considering the Mashiekeh's appetite, that was saying something. "Yes, it went quite well. You were right, as usual. I see you've also been eating well."

Sparro smiled. "As complete a meal as I've had in centuries, young master. Sexual pleasure is the finest taste, but variety makes the meal, as I've always said. I'll spare you the details for now." He glanced at Molly, who after a moment prostrated on the floor had resumed her poses. "I see you noticed my Molly. Would you like her? I haven't yet given you a present: it's customary for the old Mashiekeh to help the new begin his collection. You can try her out now, if you like."

Kyle felt a moment of revulsion. Sparro felt no more connection to the human being before him than he did the carpet she danced upon. For a moment he wondered if he would ever be that way... he saw that Molly had dropped to her knees before him, waiting for any command. He reached out a hand to her face, caressing it. She responded for a moment, closing her eyes and slightly nuzzling his hand, then glanced at Sparro and resumed her expressionless waiting. He wanted her, he realized. And she would welcome it... she had little enough real contact in Sparro's rooms. It would be so easy to take her, introduce her to Allie and Andrea... and then he remembered Marlena.

"No, Sparro. I appreciate the offer but as you said, I am already quite... satisfied."

Sparro tilted his head slightly. "Your mind is chaotic today. May I ask what the trouble is?"

Kyle considered the question, watching Molly stretch into a seemingly impossible pose. Well trained, indeed. "I am merely getting used to this life. It is little more than culture shock, I suppose. If it persists I will let you know."

There was a moment of pause as Kyle kept his eyes on Molly's undulating figure. A lie, straight out. He knew that if Allie, Andrea, or any human attempted the same on him, he would know it in an instant, and he wondered if he was yet as open as a book to Sparro. For some reason, he didn't want Sparro to know about Marlena -- not yet. That time would come later.

The hesitation was brief, but then Sparro sat in another chair. "Very well. I am glad you have come, for I have a favor to ask. I have business that I will be several days attending to, which will take me away from here. Normally I would merely leave one of my pets in charge, but it is always better to leave such things in more capable hands. Would you stay here, and see to the well-being of my pets and other affairs?"

Kyle considered, then nodded. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. With a glance at Molly, he grinned. "I think I can do that for you."

Sparro followed Kyle's eyes, and had a grin of his own. "Feel free to sample as you wish, I will only take one or two of my domestics with me. If you so desire, there is also room for your two pets here as well."

Kyle thought about this, then shrugged noncommittally and stood. "It's settled then. When will you be leaving?"

"In a few hours time. Oh, do be sure to follow my instructions considering my newest pet... acquired only last night. She will require special care; all the more reason to leave you in charge. And be careful of Damien. Imprecise orders with that one could lead to disaster. Permit him to feed if he pleases you and let him help you as needed, all will be clear when you read my instructions." And with that, Sparro rose, shook Kyle's hand, and walked from the room. With a last glance at Molly, Kyle followed him and began planning the next two days. What was he going to do about Marlena?

*******************************************************************

It was nearly noon when Allie awoke from a lovely dream involving herself, Master, and Mistress, with the two of them eating a meal she prepared and served them, then using her in turns on the kitchen table while she orgasmed continuously. Her dreams of late had all seemed to take such turns... these days as she walked down the street, (when mistress permitted her to do so,) she found herself eyeing the women as much as the men, wondering what it would be like to be used by each of them in turn.

It took a moment to disengage from such daydreaming, but she suddenly realized she had work to do. Rising quickly, she paused only long enough to check her hair before rushing into Mistress' room, quickly but carefully untying each rope. As she freed the second ankle, Mistress' eyes opened and watched her finish, but she didn't say anything for some time. Finally, when all was done and Allie was kneeling at attention beyond the foot of the bed, Andrea finally spoke.

"Last night was, difficult, for me, Allie." That wasn't Allie's recollection of it at all. She clearly remembered Andrea screaming, begging, promising anything including freedom, as if Allie wanted that, if only Allie let her go. Only Master's orders had prevented her from obeying. But one did not contradict one's Mistress, and so Allie only nodded. Andrea continued watching her for a moment, then sighed.

"I suppose you may as well prepare breakfast, I seem unable to punish you." Allie gave a sigh of disappointment... some punishments could be fun, after all... and went to the kitchen to prepare the ordered meal.

As she began getting busy, Allie selected an apron. Not long ago, she had owned no aprons, but recent events had changed things. She had noticed a look in Master's eyes once, seeing her dressed in nothing but an apron, and Allie lived to bring Master pleasure. This apron had been a gift from Mistress, when Andrea had decided that a proper slave needed a proper wardrobe. The apron was made of transparent rubber, and fitted in order to hold her in proper curves while cooking. The feel of the cool plastic against her body made Allie tremble for a moment, but she quickly got to work, preparing eggs, bacon, and toast, all exactly as Mistress liked it. Once all was as it should be, she knelt on her little rug beside the table and began reciting her new and improved mantra. During the dream, she had never stopped reciting it, except, of course, when screaming in orgasm.

"Obedience. I am obedient, I must obey. Master. I must obey Master. I belong to Master. Master commands obedience. I will obey Master. I love to obey Master. Mistress. Master commands me to obey Mistress. I want only to obey Master and Mistress. Master holds my mind, my will, my soul, and my life. I am obedience, I am submission, I am a slave, a good slave, a slutty slave, my body will be used, I love to be used, I want Master to use me, I want Mistress to use me, I want to be a good slave..."

"Shh..." Allie cut off immediately as Andrea walked into the room and sat at the table. "Its bad enough to have you simpering all the time, but that litany of yours is just plain creepy."

"Yes Mistress. I'm sorry, Mistress."

Andrea paused in eating, looking down at Allie, curious. "I wonder if Master is still upset with me..." And suddenly she cut off, her eyes widening.

Allie was delighted! Mistress had always called Master "Kyle," which Allie was not permitted to do unless in public. It had hurt, to hear so great a man slandered by unnecessary use of his name. Andrea had learned her lesson well the previous night, it seemed. Allie felt that she should be rewarded.

"Do you require any service, Mistress?" Slyly, undulating forward, she placed her head in Mistress' lap. "Any at all?"

Andrea hadn't noticed. "I called him Master. He told me to, and I am. He's not even here..." Allie blinked for a moment. If Master commanded, Master was obeyed, no matter where he was. Deciding that Mistress was talking to herself, she began nuzzling Andrea's crotch... remembering the warm wetness that could be found just under the bathrobe.

Andrea suddenly looked down, startled. "I... I can't even say his name. Ky... Ky... damn it... Ky..."

Allie looked up. Mistress was definitely addressing her now. "Master, you mean?" Of course that was what she meant. She just needed to learn it for herself. Allie had, after all.

For a second, Andrea nodded. "Yes, Master... No!" Shoving Allie off, Andrea jumped up from the chair, her back to the wall, looking around wildly. "What has he done to us, Allie? I can't say his name, I jump when he crooks his finger, I can't even orgasm without his permission!" The horror grew. Allie walked towards her, slowly. She knew exactly what Mistress needed.

Andrea's eyes widened in horror. "And forget me, look at you! Five days ago you were twisting boys around your finger; now look at you! Look at us! I call him Master, have to call him master..."

"Need to call him master?" Allie suggested. She was now nearly nose to nose with Andrea, her apron still fluttering to the floor behind her.

Andrea's eyes couldn't get any wider, but looked as though they were going to have a good try. "God help me, yes. He did this to us... look at us; you're his slave..."

"Not just his slave; your slave too, Mistress." Allie's hands went to the fastenings that held Andrea's bathrobe loosely together.

"Yes... you see? You see what he..."

"Not he, Mistress. You. You did this, remember? You made me your slave... you wanted me to be your slave."

Andrea's hands tried to push Allie's away, but Allie knew what was required of her. Mistress's hands might be saying one thing, but her eyes were saying quite another. "You know what else, Mistress? I know why you did it. You wanted this. You wanted me. And now you have me." The fastenings undone, Allie's hands quickly pulled the robe away from Andrea's shoulders, allowing the material to fall loosely down her body, hanging from her wrists. Allie took a moment to admire... Mistress had the finest breasts.

"No... No... I..." It was barely a whisper. Lust was growing in Andrea's eyes, her breasts swaying alluringly as she started panting.

Allie smiled, cupping Andrea's breasts with her hands, lightly playing with each nipple. "You know what else, Mistress. I love it. I love being your slave, being Master's slave. I am yours, you are his, and you will love it too. It is what I am, it is what you will be, but you will always be my Mistress. I will always love this..." And with that, she kissed Andrea with passion. The hunger in Allie grew... and slowly she lowered herself down, dragging her lips down Andrea's neck, over the collarbone, taking a moment to suckle lightly on the right breast, then the left. Suddenly a hand was placed on her head, and Allie allowed herself to be pushed to her knees. She looked up with hunger. "Let me serve you, mistress." It was almost a command.

Andrea's eyes flashed with desire; passions aroused within her that needed to be fulfilled for fear they might consume her. As she looked down, she took hold of Allie's head in both hands. "I do love it, slave. You may serve me."

It was some time before either spoke coherently again. In the end, Allie was carefully kissing every square inch of Andrea's body, while Mistress stared blankly at the ceiling. Remembering how often she had done the same after that night in the Golden Dancer , Allie knew that Master would be pleased.

The very thought sent her into an excruciatingly violent orgasm.

*******************************************************************

Sparro had never liked airports. Flight patterns were something that even he could not control, and he had a history of disliking anything that fell outside his realm of dominance. By those grounds, he was learning to almost dislike Kyle, whose powers were growing at an alarmingly fast rate.

Deciding to veer away from such unpleasant thoughts, Sparro took a moment to turn to his companion for the weekend. Whenever his plans required flying, Sparro's first choice of companion was always Cheri... the voluptuous redhead had actually been acquired during a flight from France, and so was a bit of comfort during such trying times.

Cheri's normal attire usually consisted of varying styles of the standard French Maid uniform, an indulgence to Sparro's sense of traditionalism. Today she wore an outfit that was almost a business suit, the kind that would give any CEO dreams of potential board room encounters. He had given her instructions carefully while preparing to leave.

"While we are in public, you are my younger secretary who is desperately in love with me. You will treat any man who shows you attention coldly, but will hang on my every word, as though desperate for my attention."

It was a calculated pose, designed to frustrate the other passengers on the flight. To have such an Ice Princess melt for someone else was enough to cause any man to feel desire for her, and such emotions could keep him going throughout the flight. Perhaps, if one of the stewardesses was acceptable, he could involve her as well.

Their flight was called. Nodding to the attendant (who had only recently bumped two first class passengers in preparation for the new arrivals) Sparro led Cheri onto the aircraft, locating their seats and placing her at the window. He smiled, and whispered to her as they sat. "You are doing quite well, Cheri. Perhaps, when this is done, you shall have a reward..." and with that, he slipped a hand under her jacket to briefly fondle a breast, ignoring the gasp from the stewardess immediately behind him. A glance showed that she was quite young, and though not good enough to keep, enough for a bit of diversion on the flight. He had but to smile, and the stewardess was shocked to find a sense of arousal filling her entire body...

Two hours later, as Sparro walked off the plane with Cheri on his arm, he briefly entertained the idea that perhaps flying wasn't so bad after all. As the Stewardess disembarked, he noticed a slight glaze in her eyes... memory removal often had that effect. Her crewmates suspected, of course, but it would all fade in time. They were busy. Suddenly, he heard a voice that caught his full attention. "Hello, Sparro."

Sparro turned to face the speaker, a rather tall man whose dark complexion and bold features seemed to give him a sense of presence even without the other factors. He was dressed, like Sparro, in a finely cut suit, which Sparro suspected had been made by the same tailor, a rather exclusive one in Vienna. He nodded. "Hello, Gustav. I suppose you have a reason for summoning me all the way out here? I do have business matters of my own, you know."

Gustav snorted. "You have only the business of pleasure, old friend, and there is plenty to be had here, I assure you. If you will accompany me, my rooms are not far from here. We have room for your pet, as well."

"Too kind of you. Have I shown you my Cheri before?"

"Yes, I see her so often I wonder if you have any others. Come."

There was a moment of irritation as Sparro began following, which he was not used to doing. For a moment, he sent out a probe of the room... families being separated and united, business people late for their flights, a cacophony of emotion that seemed to be funneling towards them. In truth, it was funneling into Gustav, who never gave up a chance to feed. Sparro contented himself to merely wait. They were in Gustav's territory, after all. The answers would come in time.

*******************************************************************

Though none of the rooms in Sparro's apartments had outside windows, most at least were cunningly designed to look like they did, each with a view of a specially designed landscape carefully crafted, and lit to imitate the warm rays of the sun. Kyle stood in a room now, though, that was the exception. It was not the innermost chamber (those were Sparro's private rooms, where no pets were allowed,) but it was close, with at least two other rooms between it and the outer walls of the warehouse in all directions. Kyle had never seen it before, and wasn't sure he believed his eyes even now.

Whereas the rest of the apartments were well lit, this one was dark, illuminated only by candles, carefully tended. The lone "window" painting was also unique in that it showed a night sky complete with moon. This moon revealed a nearly barren landscape, with mountains in the distance and the silhouette of a castle set vaguely against the moon. Kyle had seen enough vampire movies to recognize a stylized view of the Transylvanian countryside, and knew enough of his teacher that it was probably more true to form that most would give it credit for.

The room was, in fact, admirably fitted to its newest occupant. Mara stood before the bed, looking at him defiantly. She was as different from Sparro's other domestics as the room was from the rest of Sparro's apartments. Where Angelica was soft and submissive, Mara looked powerful and dominant. Whereas the other girls wore little other than silk, Mara donned a leather outfit that shaped everything while concealing little.

The note had, of course, explained everything. She was the newest pet, an experiment of Sparro's. She was Nosferatu, something Kyle had known as soon as he opened the door. The bitterness of her emotions was not as powerful as Damien's, but clearly showed she was no more human than he was. What he couldn't figure out was how she had been acquired.

His instructions were to permit her to feed, in limited amounts, on the other pets. He wondered if any would try to shy away, given that their lives would not be in danger, particularly considering the pleasure involved. For them, like their master, hedonism had become a way of life. For a guilty minute, he thought of Allie and Andrea. They were his own creations, and as dominated by their sex-drives as any of Sparro's pets. One thing was for certain... he would never let the same thing happen to Marlena.

He had his instructions for now, though. He decided to carry them out. Addressing Mara in a strict tone, he said; "It is time for your exercises, dark one. You are to submit."

Her reaction was not exactly to Kyle's tastes, but even he could appreciate what others would get from it. Her defiance never died, rather it grew and bloomed, often with snarls and spitting. Where the other girls shaped themselves to the commands of Mashiekeh like water flows into a container, Mara had to be bent, fighting the orders even as she succumbed.

The instructions concerning her were explicit. She has been only partially trained, and I would not waste such valuable training time as this. Part of her will want to obey, but that will be slowly pushed to a subconscious thing. Her resistance is that of her kind, refusing to accept any hold on them. She will resist, then be broken, and feel shame in the pleasure at the end. She is a special taste, a change of pace. Enjoy her as you will, but maintain her feeding and training.

Kyle twisted his face into a frown. At least the others enjoyed what happened to them, Sparro left them no will in the matter. This one would be in a life of longing and fighting, unable to even lose herself in the pleasure gained at the end. He had no desire for her, but knew what she needed as she finished her dance before him.

"You may pleasure yourself tonight. No, you will pleasure yourself tonight, repeatedly, until your daily rest. We will meet again soon." With that, he left quickly, closing and locking the door behind him. He wouldn't have to choose a target for her feeding until tomorrow, and that, at least, was a relief.

When he entered the main room, he found himself faced by Angelica, dressed entirely in loose flows of almost transparent red silk. Since his conversion, he had gotten to know most of Sparro's domestics at least by sight, but Angelica remained special, familiar to him, his first real feeding. She smiled at him slowly, as she dropped to her knees before him. "Is all as you wish, Master?"

Not for the first time, Kyle wondered at her past. Captured (or collected, as Sparro preferred) when she was a fifteen year-old runaway, Sparro had spent much of the last ten years shaping her into the perfect domestic. There was nothing waifish about her now. Before him knelt a bombshell, the likes of which even Hollywood would drool over, carefully crafted in every detail. Kyle wondered how much of her mind was still her own, if any of it was.

"All is well, though if I remember the schedule correctly, tonight was to be one of rest for you. You do seem paler than usual."

She shivered slightly, then removed the red velvet choker she'd been wearing. Underneath were barely visible bite marks. "Mara was hungry, and Master commanded me to..." as her fingers touched the small punctures, her eyes rolled for a moment, and Kyle felt her entire psyche leap in remembrance of the fear and the pleasure. She hurriedly replaced the choker. "She did not take much, as commanded, but Master wanted no risks."

Kyle nodded slowly. "That still does not answer why you are not resting."

She blushed, if faintly. Her ability to do so shocked Kyle. Perhaps Sparro had left some of her in his molding. "I remembered your first night, Master, and wanted to know if you would like... company... tonight. Nicola was supposed to ask you, but I told her that I would... Master did not leave specific orders," she ended lamely.

Of all the things he had expected, a proposition was not among them. Carefully he probed her mind. The stirrings of sex were there of course, though difficult to distinguish from the residue of Mara's feeding. The shyness, however, was not feigned, and there was desire, a desire for him. A possessive desire, which was perhaps the greatest shock of all. He wondered for a moment how she had diverted Nicola, who was almost as much a nymphomaniac as Andrea.

Lost in his thoughts, Kyle didn't notice her crawling forward until she was immediately before him. Slowly she stood up, shyly meeting and holding his eyes. "This slave will do as Master commands, of course. But this slave, but I, would greatly enjoy serving Master tonight."

Kyle felt a flush of emotion towards her. She was asking for him to take her, desiring it beyond anything he'd felt in Allie or Andrea. It was almost as powerful as the feelings Marlena had. He couldn't resist, and upon consideration, didn't want to. His arms wrapped around her, and she snuggled in tight against him. Satisfaction rolled off of her in waves, and in that Kyle realized that it was this, not the sex, that she truly wanted.

*******************************************************************

Sparro was not a person easily impressed, but the new surroundings that Gustav had arranged for himself were certainly admirable. On the top of a high-rise downtown, surrounded by windows that looked down on a scurrying population, the penthouse was the very picture of modern ultra-affluence. Sparro preferred tradition, but to each his own. It was the last of a series of strongholds that Gustav had shown him, taking up most of the last two days. His reasons for summoning Sparro, however, had not yet been revealed.

He turned from a window overlooking the bay to see a tea service being placed. The girl placing it was beautiful, if not quite up to Sparro's standards visually. Knowing Gustav, she had a very specific reason for being there.

Gustav gestured to her as he entered the room. "One of my newer acquisitions. Caught her just before she graduated from law school. She had actually managed to trace several of my accounts to this address, and tried to have an interview with the seventh richest man in the world, who was apparently completely unknown to the world." He laughed. "How could I refuse such a pretty face? I decided to let her graduate, so she's only here nights. High Powered attorney by day, mindless meat at night. Exquisite, no?"

Sparro nodded silently. Her attire, the ultimate in slut-ware, fitting for a porno, made her role as attorney difficult to imagine, but Gustav could be heavy-handed with his irony at points. She certainly played the role of meat well, though. Gustav slapped her finely shaped ass as she walked past him, and she giggled loudly, an octave higher than necessary. He grabbed her arm and pulled her sharply downward. Another giggle, then she quickly unzipped his pants, and got started with her mouth. Sparro, disgusted, suspected that more than her attire changed after work. Her gag reflex had certainly been removed.

After sipping tea quietly, Sparro looked his colleague in the eyes. Gustav was voracious, vulgar, and heavy handed, but powerful in more than the world of business. Mashiekeh did not make a habit of measuring comparative strengths, but Sparro suspected that this room held two of the most powerful Mashiekeh in the world.

"I am, of course, quite impressed with your new home, as well as your new domestic, but I trust you invited me here to do more than show off." Though he disliked it, Sparro was capable of being quite to the point when he so desired.

Gustav snorted, then leaned forward. The girl backed off, wiping her mouth daintily, then laid back and began masturbating on the floor. "I had not finished my story yet, entirely. That," he indicated the girl with a jerk of his head, "traced my assets specifically through a chain of restaurants I own. I have no desire for the idiots of this country to bother me about my money, and so I covered my tracks as I could. Among these restaurants is the Golden Dancer , which you may know is one of the more profitable such establishments that I own."

Sparro frowned. "If this is a matter of territory, Gustav, you realize that your restaurant exists in a neighborhood well known to be mine. I have permitted this because of our understanding, and I can't imagine what problem might have arisen now."

It was Gustav's turn to frown. "I am fully aware of your territory, Sparro, and of course any patrons of the Golden Dancer are available to you. Its staff, however, as my employees, clearly fall under my jurisdiction."

Now Sparro was confused. It made him angry. "I have never gone near any of your staff for that very reason. If you wish to make baseless accusations against..."

"I haven't accused anyone, Sparro. Yet. But I am about to. I am not speaking about you but that apprentice you decided to bring about. You do like popping them off, don't you? This is what, your fourth?"

"That's right." Sparro's voice was testy. He had brought about more apprentices than any of the others, save his own teacher, and the others often gave him grief about it. The moans of the sexpot on the floor did not aid his mood. "In any case, I have been very careful with him. He did go to the Golden Dancer , and did interact with a waitress, but I took special care to place another target, one under my jurisdiction, forward instead, and made sure that he bit. He was not even awakened yet at that point."

Gustav's eyes flashed. "It seems you have grown lax in your watchfulness, Sparro. He did meet again with that waitress, when your watching eye must have been elsewhere. They spent the night together, three nights ago. She has not been to work since, and so far I have been too busy to track her. I trust, however, that you will see that this situation is dealt with. If she is alive, she is to be returned to me. If dead, I will want a replacement." He nodded at Cheri. "This one will do in a snap." Cheri, who had been gazing with interest at the masturbating girl, looked up with a start, then shot a frightened glance at Sparro.

Sparro growled. No one threatened his property. "My pets are my own, Gustav. This one will return with me, tonight. My apprentice has domestics of his own, and any reparations that need to be made will be made by him, personally. I will see to it. This meeting is at an end. Cheri, with me."

Gustav stood. "This is not to my liking, Sparro. A newly caught domestic, barely trained by an apprentice Mashiekeh..."

"Is more than a replacement for a potential domestic who had not even been marked yet." Sparro turned a disdainful eye to meet Gustav's. "Indeed, I shall have to give him one of my own in apology for not warning him of the Dancer within a week after he was turned. I will offer no more, unless you wish to challenge me."

The tension grew as the great minds examined each other, searching for weaknesses. Rarely did Mashiekeh match wills, for the most part they were above that. Gustav was not likely to risk it in his own home, where his numerous domestics offered plenty of strength for both. Gustav broke the contact first. Rare were such encounters, but Sparro had not lost one yet, as was well known. "Go then. Pamper your apprentice. If the girl is not returned, or replaced, within a week, I will call for a reckoning."

Sparro gestured to Cheri, then left without a word, the orgasmic screams of the former paralegal following him out the door.

Bendetti's was a gem of a place, a small family-owned Italian restaurant just outside town limits. It was protected from large crowds by careful word of mouth advertising, friends informing friends but no one else. Even so, it was nearly impossible to get seats without reservation, often a week in advance. Kyle, however, discovered that he was able to manage.

Marlena was looking beautiful in a simple yet exquisite blue silk dress. Kyle had bought it for her only a few hours previously, when she had shyly confessed that she didn't own anything suitable for Bendetti's. The Golden Dancer , it seemed, was not as generous as it was popular. She had also been very quiet all evening.

"Something's wrong." Kyle said suddenly over his fettuccine alfredo. "What is it?"

She put her fork down. She had barely touched her salad anyway. "It just seems too good to be true."

"What does?"

"All of this. You. I meet a young, talented musician. He plays the coffee shop circuit, but also has enough clout to get into Bendetti's without a reservation, money to buy me this dress, and is, well, amazing in bed." She smiled for a moment, blushing slightly, then continued. "Seriously though, I feel that there is something that you're not telling me. There has to be a catch, Kyle."

Kyle looked at her for a long time. It would be no problem to tell her not to worry about it... particularly with the knowledge that she would do just that if told to. He didn't want to do that, however. Not with her. "You're right, partly. There are some things I haven't told you yet. We've hardly had the time, after all. I don't really understand it all myself, yet." He took a deep breath, and began to tell her, when she interrupted him.

"Wait... not yet. Not here. Not until you're ready. It's just good to know that you will tell me, eventually." Her tension seemed to melt away. "For now, though, let's enjoy this evening, and pretend that there is nothing else."

Kyle smiled. At that moment, the piano player began a tune, a slow waltz, and he knew what to do. "Would you like to dance?"

She joined him in the smile and stood up quickly. "Yes, I would." With that, he took her hand and led her onto the floor, basking in her eyes as they began to spin. He knew that her association with him would bring her into danger, of course, but Sparro need never know about her. Somehow, he would protect her from the others. She would be his, and no one else's. He just had to find a way to keep his promise.

"Oh, shit." As always, he sensed Sparro coming before the old Mashiekeh actually arrived. This time, however, Sparro was still at least a mile away, but getting closer all the time, and was undeniably heading to Bendetti's. Normally, Sparro had exquisite control over emotion, to broadcast his emotions, anger specifically, was as far from good as could be possible. Something had happened. Sparro was getting still closer.

A hand turned his face, and he found himself looking into Marlena's eyes. "What is it?" she whispered. "Something's happened."

He nodded. "Something's happened. You have to get out of here. Now."

"No." Her look had firmed. "You have your secrets. I've accepted that. But something's happened, and you think there may be danger involved. I don't know what is, but I won't leave you to it. Not now."

Kyle froze. She was reading him well... better than even Sparro could at this point unless he lost control. She needed to be gone, and he could handle that, of course... but... he couldn't. Not to her. "Damn," he whispered. Then he made his decision. "Listen, someone is coming, someone powerful and dangerous. Things will happen then that might be difficult to understand..." Sparro was almost there... "But I promise when it does, I'll protect you." With that, he kissed her, and then turned. Sparro had arrived.

*******************************************************************

It was a very relieved Sparro who sat in the front of the vehicle as Kyle walked Marlena back into her apartment. When Kyle returned to the car, they rode for a few moments in silence, en route to Sparro's apartments. Kyle spoke first.

"I haven't felt you that angry before, Sparro. If all you wanted was some of Bendetti's wine and a chat with me, why did you feel like you were ready to tear the building down on my head?”

Sparro grinned. Kyle's sensitivity was stronger than he gave himself credit for. It was something to be proud of, providing Kyle did not presume too far with his power. "Not on your head, lad, but someone else's. I am very glad to see the girl is alive, I was worried that perhaps you had finally decided to taste that final spark."

"And what if I had? What interest have you in her?"

"Not me, specifically, but a colleague of mine. Another one of us. He owns the Golden Dancer , you see, and is very mindful of his property. As an employee of his, she falls under his jurisdiction. Still, she is alive, so no matter. She will simply be returned to him and all of this mess will go away. If she had been dead, you would have had to give him one of yours in return. Of course, my offer of one of mine remains open. Whichever you chose to give would be easily replaced." He sighed. "I have not seen Gustav that angry for a long time, Kyle. And I do mean a very long time."

Kyle fell into silence again. "What is this Gustav like? Why hadn't you mentioned him before?"

Sparro grimaced. "Must we speak of this? Oh, very well. Gustav is an animal. Cunning, no doubt, but without any sense of subtlety. He is periodically detected by the humans because of it, but he makes do, as we all do. Heavy handed with his powers as well, guts his domestics of any will or sense of self. They're practically puppets by the time he's through with them, and I've never heard of another killing so many by merely over-indulging, without meaning to. Do not worry though, he is rather aloof with newcomers. You should be spared the burden of his company for some years yet, decades if you're lucky."

"Such luck," Kyle muttered. "Marlena is to be returned to him, then?"

"Yes. Directly to his harem, I believe. He won't risk losing her again. I'm amazed that he waited as long as he did, she is quite the specimen. I do not blame you for your choice of prey. Were it not for the rules, I would have taken her long before."

"Rules?"

"More like guidelines, though armored in millennia of tradition. We do not infringe on each other's jurisdictions. Small as this world has become, there is still plenty of humanity for us all. There will be others, choicer even than this one, if you know where to hunt."

It was a quiet ride back to the apartments, where Sparro was pleased to find everything as he had ordered. Later, he found Kyle staring at Angelica, watching her pose carefully, excited as always by the attention but hiding it well.

"You hide your mind, young friend, but you cannot hide that you are doing so. What is it?"

"I'm not going to return her, Sparro."

Shock. It had been quite some time since any desire of his had been denied, much less in his own apartments. Anger rose again. "Yes, you will, apprentice, or things will go worse for us both. You do not understand what you are talking about. You will go now, and bring her here. I will return her myself." Every ounce of command that he could muster was poured into his words. Let the young Mashiekeh feel real power.

Kyle raised his eyes, and to Sparro's further shock, matched him will to will. "It is you who does not understand, Sparro. I will not return Marlena, Master, because I cannot. She is not mine to give, unlike like Andrea or Allie. I will protect her, however. I will not let so vile a creature as you have described get his hands on her, Mashiekeh or no."

Sparro snarled. "You mean to challenge me in my own house?"

Kyle shrugged. "I will if I must. Things need to change, and now is as good a time as any. I will protect her from you, as well as him, if need be."

Sparro spoke quietly. "And do you think you could do so? Here? Now? You will see, my apprentice, that you have much to learn." And with that, he attacked.

There was no arm swinging or shouting, but an effort of will poured into the breaking of another. Battle such as this was rare because often the loser found themselves weakened nearly beyond recall, and without others to feed upon, left to wither to a wraithlike existence, bereft of will. Sparro hoped, however, that Kyle would be more able to take direction after...

His attack hit a wall, glanced aside, and before Sparro knew what was happening he was being attacked in kind. An assault like none he had felt before was pouring onto his defenses, and he found himself having to defend. Another attack... blocked. And again, he had to defend. His snarls grew deeper. Perhaps he would not permit Kyle to recuperate, after all.

*******************************************************************

Sweat beaded onto Kyle's face. He did not really know what he was doing, only playing as felt natural, but it was clear that he was fighting for his life, despite the fact that neither had moved from where they stood. Angelica, however, seemed aware of what was happening, and watched them both, terrified.

It was exhausting, concentrating his will in such a way. He felt a need to feed deeper, but had not yet mastered how to do so from a distance, and now was not the time to feel a way out. As his weakness grew, he took a step back, breathing more and more deeply. Sparro was speaking, but Kyle could not make out what was being said. He could only assume that he had done well so far, but Sparro was far more experienced, and stronger in will despite all Kyle could do. He was going to lose, and he had no idea what would happen to him if he did. Then it occurred to him what would happen to Marlena, and a moment of misery almost defeated him. Sparro, a triumphant look in his eyes, stepped forward to finish it, when...

CRASH! A vase, nearly a thousand years old, shattered over Sparro's head. Coupled with his exertion, the old Mashiekeh was knocked unconscious. Holding what was left of it was Angelica. She stared at her hands, as if unable to believe what she had done. "He... he told me to help..." she glanced at Sparro. "He never said who. He'll feed me to her, for sure, for this. For keeps." No need to ask who her was.

Kyle had to think quickly. He knew that. But his head was spinning. "Do you have any street clothes you could wear? I mean that wouldn't draw too much attention?" She nodded, still staring at Sparro, horrified. "Change into it. You're coming with me."

She looked up at that. "Where are we going?"

Kyle shook his head, because he didn' know. They needed to run, far away, beyond the reach of anyone. It would take time to get Marlena, Allie, and Andrea, never mind get them outside of Sparro's reach, if such a place existed. They needed to run. He just didn't know where.

Fugitive The calm quiet of the night might have surprised those who were not used to it. Even in the heart of the city, the elevation of the rooftops offered a certain peace unavailable to those who remained at street level. For the most part, all that passed here were vermin, of either furry or winged variety, each feeding on the other. Yet the peace this night was broken by an intruder, running and jumping from rooftop to rooftop, movements visible only when silhouetted by the moon. Despite this, and despite the incredible speed at which it moved, it was being chased, and its chaser was gaining ground.

There was panting, but it had little to do with exertion. The intruder had run farther and faster before. Yet it was not accustomed to what was happening, or the feelings it was experiencing. For Damien Lockard, fear had always been something that happened to other people.

It had been a pleasant enough evening. Only five days recently he’d had a feast of blood, first that of the whore, Mara, and then of her pimp, the fat Tony who had died screaming deliciously. After that he had returned to Sparro's apartments only to find the old Mashiekeh gone on business, without leaving orders other than to leave the domestics alone. After two days of blissful sloth, avoiding Sparro's apprentice wherever possible, Damien had decided to go on the hunt again, ready for more.

Things had seemed to be going so well; a beautiful girl alone at night, the perfect opportunity for a strike, only to have her strike back with a speed and manner that he had never encountered in a human before. Hunters were well known among the Nosferatu, but rare enough that Damien had hoped never to meet one.

As he crossed a flat rooftop some forty stories above Main Street, he realized with yet another twinge of fear that he could hear her breathing behind him. She was breathing hard, but in smooth, controlled breaths that told of concentration and unbelievable endurance. Damien snarled between gasps, realizing he couldn't outrun her. With an act of desperation, he turned to fight. Hunters were not invincible, just the next thing to it. He lashed out with his claws, hoping to catch a blink in which to bite her.

He never saw the blow that landed. One moment he was slashing at her face, the next he was crashing through a skylight into an abandoned penthouse. The sharp pain in his chest told him what had happened... the stake had not penetrated his heart, yet. He was aware through the pain of her dropping through the skylight.

"Not bad for a dead vampire. Would've been smarter to run, though. Don't worry, your pain is about to end..." There was a predatory look in her eye as she reached to drive the stake through...

"Stop." All movement ceased as if cut off by a switch. Damien couldn't remember ever being happy to hear that voice before. "I'm afraid I cannot permit you to proceed, my dear, though it is a terrible wretch to disturb the work of such a professional. Now, remove the stake from his chest and leave it at his side, then step away. Quickly now."

The look of surprise and fear shone clear on her pretty face as she obeyed. Damien sighed as he felt his chest begin to reknit. He hadn't liked dying the first time, and doubted that the repeat would be any more enjoyable. Carefully he stood up, watching her warily. "My thanks, Sparro. May I finish her?"

"Finish her? My dear Damien, she has not yet even begun. Now stay still and be quiet."

Damien found his earlier gratitude receding in a hurry, but of course obeyed immediately. The Hunter had taken the moment to compose herself as well as she was able, and looked Sparro in the eye. "I don't know who or what you are, but if I were you, I would kill me quickly and get it over with."

"Oh?" Sparro looked amused, though barely. Damien had seen this sort of thing before, and Sparro seemed somewhat preoccupied. "I suppose that if you represent so great a threat to me the truth would be on your side. But I know something you do not. You represent no threat to me whatsoever."

She spat at him in anger. "I'll have you know that I have slain more of..."

Sparro cut her off with a wave, full of impatience. "Yes, you doubtlessly have collected the teeth of thousands of Nosferatu. Perhaps you are even the equal of Belmont Graves, England, 1745. Not a bad chap at all, as it turned out. But he possessed no more threat to me than you do now. For instance..." he snapped his fingers. "I free you. Attack, if you like."

At that moment her muscles slackened, as though invisible bindings had been cut. Instantly she lashed out at him, in a single acrobatic movement gaining the stake from the ground and driving it towards Sparro's heart.

"Freeze." She froze, the point slightly indenting the red tie Sparro was wearing. He smiled. "Had your blow struck, we would still be having this conversation, but I could not see the point in ruining such a fine suit, could you?" She began to answer, but he waved her to silence. "I was speaking rhetorically. In any event, I have pressing issues and deeds that need to be accomplished. For now, consider my point made. You will accompany us, now. You will come along quietly and alert none of your, ah, allies to what is happening to you."

The look of shock that covered her face as the orders settled in left Damien with a brief satisfaction. Sparro smiled. "It's good to get that done with. Now, for the proper introductions. As you heard my associate here say, I am Sparro. And what is your name?"

The look of shock only increased as she answered promptly. "Michelle..."

"Excellent. You'll do well, I think." Sparro turned to Damien. "My car is waiting at the corner of Fifth and Piedmont. Be a good lad and bring it here. I'll have a nice chat with Michelle while you do."

Damien nodded curtly and turned on heel. While he was grateful for his continued existence, it was somewhat ominous that Sparro was taking the time to tame a Hunter.

Sparro had never been the contemplative type. Such introspection did not go well with immortality; there was little joy to be gained from eternity if one spent it insane. Yet now, in this particular moment, he couldn't help himself as he sat back, barely even aware of the scene before him. For a moment, he allowed himself to close his eyes and remember rage.

He had tasted rage before, of course, but even for a Mashiekeh it could be a difficult thing to produce in another. It had been almost a century since he had been provoked to show any temper at all. But now, rage... three times in the space of twenty-four hours. Not fed on in another, but his own.

Gustav, of course, was fully capable of driving anyone to distraction, but at a threat to Sparro's property the emotion had come practically out of nowhere. It was curious, to be sure. Cheri was neither Sparro's only or his best. Yet she was his, and nobody, not even Gustav, could threaten Sparro's property. Sparro had accepted it for what it was, dealt with it coolly, and calmly, allowing himself to revel in his own emotion before it faded.

Then, rebellion. Mashiekeh, of course, were never particularly good at obeying anyone, but Kyle had risen so fast. Scarcely more than a week before he had been human, helpless before Sparro as any other. Such strength was to be marveled at, at least in other circumstances. In such proximity to earlier outbursts, however, the rage had returned... stronger than before. Sparro had actually considered driving his own apprentice into the likeness of death, had almost succeeded. Strong or no, Kyle had not known what he was doing, even if his instincts had served him well. Then, pain and blackness.

He had awoken surrounded by shards of an ancient Ming vase and all his domestics but two, Mara restricted to her room as usual and Angelica, his prize, gone. None of the others had witnessed what exactly had happened, but all had watched her dress in street clothes and leave under orders from Kyle.

It had gathered like a storm, shock, pride and anger into a rage that eclipsed any he had felt before in centuries. It had been delicious, even if quite some time had been required before he trusted himself to instruct his domestics. Now, it was gone, and he missed it. Well, he would be seeking out his rebellious apprentice, and had the feeling that another meeting with Kyle would be just what he needed to bring the rage back.

Of course, finding a Mashiekeh who did not want to be found could be difficult. The act of simply removing oneself from the memory of another left little residue to trace. It was clear that a professional would be required, one with certain... affinities... that Sparro himself lacked. A simple anonymous call, Damien led out as bait, it had been simple.

A wave of pleasure mixed with a very deep revulsion hit him, and he drank deeply from it. No point in missing out on the possibilities and ironies of the situation, but it was time to get down to business.

The sounds of somewhat impassioned lovemaking, grunts, moans, and, ah yes, protests had reached a crescendo where things were finally getting interesting. It took an act of willpower to stop, but Sparro had never had any lack of will. "That's enough for now, my loves."

The two could not have been more different in some ways, or more alike in others. Before her transformation, Mara had been an aging whore, her once radiant looks dimmed by age, beauty gone slightly to seed. Vampirism had changed her for the better. There were no longer wrinkles to be seen, or weaknesses. Her skin had gone pale quite quickly, of course, but that only made her black hair and crimson lips (all without the need of coloring) that much more striking. Her leathers had been abandoned in favor of black lace supporting all while concealing nothing, the milky skin beneath showing through clearly. Her endurance had gained marvelously as well... Sparro was sure her deep breathing was not caused by exertion.

On the other side was Michelle. California had done its job well with her, sun-bleached hair, finely tanned skin, beautifully formed breasts, and the sharp blue eyes that would scream out, "Hunter!" to anyone who knew what to look for. Michelle had no problem with endurance either, but then again, Sparro had made her work harder. Her breathing (laced with the occasional sob) was more ragged than Mara's. There was something quite alluring about the sheen of sweat that covered her... something Mara was no longer capable of. It sparkled in the star-like light of Mara's room and the artist in Sparro was gratified.

Girl-on-girl was common enough in Sparro's apartments... he rarely cared enough to engage physically in the acts anymore. That Kyle still did so was a sign of his youth, and Sparro tolerated it with the same air as a parent who watches their child eat fine food with their fingers. Despite all of this, however, the potential of Vampire-on-Hunter was nearly irresistible. On his commands they had obeyed, of course, and performed to their limits, yet all was underlined with the nervousness and hunger of Mara, or the fear and revulsion from Michelle. Exquisite.

Shaking his head to clear it, Sparro got on with business. "You have done well, Mara. Leave us. Inform Nicola that she is to let you drink from her neck, three swallows, no more."

Mara pulled herself quickly from the mattress, knelt with her face to the floor, then prowled out of the room to look for her promised snack. No one could prowl like a Vampiress in lace. Smiling as she left, Sparro turned his attention to Michelle, who had finally gathered some of her wits from the post-coital fatigue.

"W-w-who are you?"

Sparro considered her, then sat. "I am your new employer, Michelle, and my terms are simple. You have seen, here tonight, that your will is no match for mine. At any time I could have let Mara kill you, or perhaps turn you. I didn't, and with reason. If you wish to remain human, and perhaps someday regain what freedom you had, you will follow my instructions to the letter."

He took a moment to sit on the bed beside her, idly letting his hand examine her curves. Her response was inevitable... centuries of experience had taught him exactly how to touch a woman... and lowered her remarkable defenses a bit more.

"There is another like me, younger, but with comparable powers. He has stolen from me, and I wish to know his whereabouts. Your... sense... shall we say, can be attuned to feel those like me with training. Can you sense me here? Answer truthfully."

She nodded, her expression seeming shy, of all things. "You... you're not a vampire, you're..."

"Something else. Yes. Could you recognize this again? Could you track it?"

Another nod. "Now that I know what to look for, but why do you..."

"I need you because of this sense of yours. You are to be my bloodhound. I'll remind you, however, that bloodhounds do not bring the prey down. You will track, and stay out of his notice, if you can. If he becomes aware of you, he could handle you as easily as I have tonight. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, sir."

Sparro beamed. "Ah, proper respect! Maybe there is hope for you after all. Perhaps later... no, I'll keep my word. Bring me the information I require, and I will return you to your old life. If you'd like, I'll even erase this," he touched her sopping sex with a single finger, eliciting a gasp, "...from your memory. If you'd like. Your clothes are in that closet. Now go hunt. And enjoy it!"

The Kings were on vacation, and didn't care who knew it. Their big trailer was the sort that almost, but not quite, required a serious truck to pull... their Blazer was barely up to the task, particularly where mountains were involved, but ultimately it served. They were written off as the typical tourist, forgotten soon by any local populations.

Had any attempted to pay any kind of attention, however, they might have noticed some strange things. Like how the whole family rode in the Blazer, despite the tight fit. They were also always staying in motels. It was as though the trailer had simply been for show. They never went in it except to store their food, which was also odd... considering how often they ate in restaurants.

The windows were shuttered, as always, but Kyle risked a peek through. The mountains were past, finally, and California wouldn't be too much farther on. This arrangement had worked well, but it couldn't last much longer. It had been six days since he had left Sparro's apartment, Angelica in tow.

The sounds in the trailer were muted, as always when the Kings weren't moving. The trailer had to be empty... in the minds of any who saw it, including the Kings. The arrangement was the best for them, though they weren't even aware of it. The trouble had been using his powers only when absolutely necessary, and so the fewer memories he had to wipe, the better.

Still, not all sound could be stilled entirely. Angelica was cleaning up after their lunch, as well as she could when all the water she could use was already in the sink. Andrea and Allie were both practicing Yoga, smoothly, quietly. They had insisted on exercise ("Only so our bodies can please you, master," Allie had explained regretfully) and this was what he had decided to allow.

The one he couldn't hear, but could always feel, was Marlena, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. At least she wasn't staring at him, eyes filled with uncertainty, fear, but worst of all, hurt. He didn't know if he'd ever wanted her to know about Allie and Andrea, but he certainly hadn't wanted her to find out this way.

She had handled it remarkably well at first. He had told her that they needed to go and soon, and she had done it. Her brave face hadn't hidden her fear from him, of course, but her courage had been reassuring. Then had come the inevitable introductions. Angelica, properly dressed, wasn't too difficult, but arriving at Allie and Andrea's had been a shock. He hadn't dared leave her in the car and then...

Well, that was past. It had to be past, there wasn't any other choice. He would make it up to her when he could. Now, they had to disappear. He wasn't sure what Sparro could do to find them. But somehow, somehow, he was going to make her safe.

"Master?" Kyle flinched. He had asked Allie to call him Kyle again, but she often forgot. Marlena's head turned slightly, an eye open. Watching... always watching.

He sighed. "Yes?"

"How are we to sleep tonight? Mistress and I could prepare for..."

"No." Best to cut her off... her ideas could sound really good at times. "We will sleep the same way we have all trip." Marlena and Angelica on one bed, Andrea on the other with Allie sleeping at her feet, Kyle on the couch. He shook his head, wondering what Sparro would think. Still, it was no less than what he deserved, for getting them into this.

Allie pouted until Andrea joined her. "Enough, Allie. Master has commanded. Obey." Allie quickly cleared her expression and kneeled next to Andrea. Kyle had to admit; Andrea did the dominatrix thing quite well.

"You must forgive her, Master. We are not used to going so long without, and we do not really understand the reasons now... but we will obey, of course." Someday, he was going to ask her how she managed to be a passive-aggressive dominatrix. It had to be a knack.

When Andrea and Allie had returned to their exercises, Kyle sat down and sighed. He needed rest... and would rest as soon as they started moving again. Finally, he heard the bustle of the King family getting into the Bronco. As soon as they were on the interstate, he was fast asleep.

As far as afternoons went, this particular one wasn't bad at all. The heat of the day was beginning to settle into the cool of the evening, and the sun began dipping back to the horizon, casting interesting shadows. The landscape along both sides of the interstate were a powerful green, with a blue sky overhead so intense that it seemed summer was determined to be just a bit more beautiful before giving way to autumn. Everyone who was outside to enjoy it did. Most enjoyed it of their free will, however.

Michelle was not the sappy type, given to reveling in good weather. Her line of work typically necessitated numerous night shifts, and the need to survive often required an intensity that precluded any gratuitous enjoyment. She was enjoying herself now, though. She had been ordered to.

The past two days had been a daze, much like this one. She had spent hours patrolling, searching for the scent, and then catching it had only waited long enough to fill her BMW with gas. The trail was heading west, and was very faint. Whoever this was, he was making a chase of it, doing little out of the ordinary and moving quickly. She might have given up, if not for...

Images flashed across her mind. Vampire overload, an explosion of her special senses; a vampire so close that she was probably about to die. Close enough to bite or to... lick me, fuck me, feel me, use me, must enjoy it, must love it, have to have more of it more of her now now now now now now...

Michelle barely got a hold of herself before driving off the road. That was over, done with. It had been two days ago, a nightmare she could forget as soon as she found whatever it was who was looking for her. She would find him, it, whatever, and report to Sparro.

Sparro. He had told her his name, just before introducing her to Mara... pleasure her feel her rub her probe her enjoy her... Michelle shook her head, and shifted on her seat. She couldn't even think... her... name without it all coming crashing back. The feedback of vampire overload wasn't supposed to work this way, but she had never heard of a situation like hers before. Whatever Sparro (she shuddered at thinking his name) was, he had done this to her, and he could undo it. Would undo it. Dear God, he had said he would, and he had to; or she'd never be able to hunt again.

Her cell phone began ringing. She glanced at it forlornly... it was one of her friends. One of her partners. The calls had been coming more regularly as time past. She never answered any of them. She couldn't. Sparro (another shudder) had told her plainly; no communication with any of her allies until she was done.

They might find her, of course, and then they could... what? Tie her up and take her home? Even with them there, she couldn't stop. She'd try to escape. Hurt them if she had to. The surety of it frightened her worse than anything she'd seen in her twenty-three years, and she'd seen a lot. She had to obey him. Then he'd let her go. He'd have to. The phone stopped ringing.

The worst part was, she was enjoying herself. Every trace of her quarry left a tingle, every time she felt she'd gained ground, she was happy. Every sunny afternoon was hers to cherish, the joy of being alive filled her very soul. And she knew why. Because he had ordered her to. That was how it worked, now. And every evening... no, no good thinking about that. Not yet. Not till she had to. Not till that evening.

Suddenly, she realized that the scent was gone. After a bit of backtracking, she found the right exit, and the right stopping point. He, it, whatever, had been here for some time. Always the parking lot... he never went into the various motels he stopped at. That was odd, but besides the point. It was only half a day old now... she was gaining ground. By tomorrow, she'd have caught up to him. The thought filled her with shivering elation, and the shivering elation nearly left her in tears. He would let her go. He had to.

Michelle considered taking off immediately, but she'd been on the road for nearly sixteen hours straight. She had time. Time to sleep, and to get it over with.

The room was nothing fancy, but it would serve. She took the time to work out the necessary precautions; just because she wasn't hunting vampires didn't mean they weren't hunting her, and sat down on the bed. Just one more thing to do, might as well get it over with...

The chair in front of her was empty. She knew that. She had only just pulled it away from the desk. Yet now, as she looked at it, she saw him sitting in it. She kneeled down. No point in fighting it. It would happen anyway.

Sparro smiled down at her from the chair, like he did every night. The room was deathly silent (or would have been without the ancient ice machine down the hall) but she heard him speaking.

"I apologize for this being necessary, my dear, but your kind requires even more special precautions than the ones you hunt. Now. Every night, before you rest, you will remember what I say, what I command."

"Yes, Master," she whispered. It didn't matter. He wasn't there to hear it. She knew that. She whispered anyway. She had to.

"You will pursue the other like me until you find him. You will not falter, and you will not fail. You will be my loyal bloodhound, following his scent. When you find him, you will not engage him. You will alert me."

"Yes, Master." It was coming. He'd do it again, he did every night. It didn't matter that he wasn't really there. He wasn't. She knew that. It didn't matter.

"You will enjoy this hunt. You will feel alive, totally, incredibly alive. There is no pleasure to you like the hunt. Well, almost no pleasure."

The smile had become a large grin. The hand that wasn't there rested on her head, and she looked up. It wasn't there. She knew that it wasn't there, damn it! It didn't matter. She felt the hand and looked up, like a dog looking at it's master. That's what she was to him, she knew that as well. A bloodhound bitch, looking up at her master. And hoping for a treat. She would get it, she got it every night.

"Remember Mara, Michelle. Remember her, all of her. Every night, when you remember the rest, remember her as well. Enjoy it, Michelle. Enjoy her. All of her. When you have, you may rest. Until it is time to hunt again."

She heard the words that no one said, but didn't pay attention to them. Her attention had already been diverted, her mind occupied, remembering. Quickly, she slipped out of her clothes, and fell back onto the bed, her sleek body already sporting a slight sheen of sweat. Mara wasn't there, anymore than Sparro had been. But she felt the smooth skin, the deft fingers, the rough tongue.

Yes... yes... oh GOD... YES!... Feel her, feel me, touch her, feel her touch me, lick me, hold me... hold her, must lick her, taste her, enjoy her, must obey, hands on breasts, mouth on nipple, feel her, feel her touch me, kiss me, touch me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckme....

By morning, she was on the road again. It was another beautiful day.

The Kings were gone. It had been a fun vacation, but now they were heading home and backtracking was the last thing that Kyle had in mind. The motel room was fine, and he conducted day to day business as quietly as possible, buying food and continuing the rent on the room, all while making sure that as little of his power was used as possible. Somehow, he knew Sparro would be able to sense it, though he didn't even know if he was being chased. Maybe Sparro would be happy to let him go. His plan should have been perfect, except for one thing.

It was temporary. Bitterly, glaringly temporary. It would drive him mad in a month, not to mention an immortal lifetime. There had to be another step. What that step should be, however, was the problem.

Suddenly, he knew what he needed. He had to get outside, to feed. His low level feeding off of Allie and Andrea was wearing thin. Angelica, perhaps, could add some spice, but her personality had become so sexualized that it was little different from the other two.

Marlena was different, of course, but her fear and hurt were of little comfort to him; all the less so for being his fault. He needed to get out. She did as well. And maybe, if left to their own devices, Allie and Andrea could come up with something other than sexual frustration. Making up his mind, he turned on heel to ask her... and found her standing there, wanting to talk to him first.

"Look, I've got to get out of here, or I think I'll go crazy. I still don't understand what's going on... but I have to get out."

Kyle nodded. "My thought exactly. We'll get dinner somewhere." He turned to the others. "You three entertain yourselves as you will, but don't leave the suite and don't make too much noise." After enduring a quick chorus of "yes, master," (he wasn't entirely sure when Angelica had started to call him that...) he grabbed his coat and looked at Marlena. "Let's get out of here. Maybe I can explain some of it... we'll have to see."

The restaurant wasn't Bendetti's, but it served. Marlena ate voraciously the first non-RV meal she'd had in days, while Kyle waited... feeling the emotions, sampling those around him. He didn't dare consume too deeply, for fear it would leave a trace of some kind, but enough sips spread among enough glasses could be both filling and discreet. All it took was time.

Conversation was difficult at best. He had explained earlier what he was, what he did, and had tried to explain that he didn't know how. More importantly, he explained that there were others, one of whom claimed to own her. Beyond that, she didn't know what to ask and he didn't know what to say.

She looked up at him from her shrimp. “Look, about them, your acquaintances.”

Kyle sighed. “They were before I met you, and that’s just Allie and Andrea. Angelica isn’t even mine, but she saved me and might have died if I hadn’t brought her along...”

Marlena’s eyes widened. “No... no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just, why are you avoiding them? Most men with that kind of power...” she broke off, but then began to mumble; “You’ve only been with me the once...”

The scent of jealousy that arose took Kyle by complete surprise. “Well, I’m with you now, and you didn’t seem to want...” he stumbled over his words. He hadn’t been this tongue tied since he’d been human. “I mean, Marlena, I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m trying to save you.”

She nodded miserably. “I know, it’s just... I’m scared, Kyle. I’ve seen what you can do, and you say there’s another like you who claims to own me, and isn’t nice at all. And you barely even talk to me now. When we first left, I thought the one upside would be all the time I’d be spending with you.”

Understanding of a sort blossomed, and Kyle took her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be this way... but I won’t leave you alone. Now we’d better get back, or...”

He broke off. Someone was having the time of her life just outside the front door, a sense of fulfillment that most people lived entire lives without feeling. It was like eating pure cake icing with a sprinkling of sugar. He turned to look, just to see who this could be, when he saw a gorgeous young blond walk in, staring straight at him and pointing. “There he is, sir!” She said, elated.

“I know, Michelle. Well done.” There, smiling from beyond the door, was Sparro.

The Reckoning To call the encounter intense would have been an understatement. The entire restaurant had gone deathly quiet, focused for reasons they could not explain on the two men facing each other. Neither had shown any sign of violence, or even hostility, but all seemed to center around them. Even the gorgeous women to either side of them drew no notice... everyone sensed that something was about to happen.

Kyle, who had been sampling from each of them over the past hour, had an advantage there, and quickly established a link between himself and all but a few of them. Sparro had made only a few connections, though his one to the blonde at his side was much more solid than the others, and spoke of affinity. Kyle had such a connection with Marlena, but did this only to protect her from Sparro. If he failed to do that, then all of this would be for nothing.

“I must admit that I am impressed, Kyle.” Sparro’s voice carried no hint of tension or even anger, but rather a patience that spoke of centuries of experience. “However, the time for hide and seek has passed.”

“I won’t hand her over,” Kyle said quietly. “If I have to fight you again, I will.” Slowly he began drawing on all of his lines, marshaling strength to defend against whatever Sparro might hurl his way, but no attack came. Sparro shook his head, then released his lines.

“The time for that has passed as well, I’m afraid. Her fate,” he indicated Marlena, “is no longer in my hands, any more than yours is.”

Kyle did not release his connections, wondering what Sparro was up to. “What are you talking about? Why have you chased me so far, then?”

“Had you remained under my care longer, I might have had the opportunity to warn you of such things before they became relevant, but that is neither here nor there. Gustav has made his claim to your little project public, and since she has not yet been returned, he has demanded a Reckoning, and it has been granted. It will convene in two days time.”

Now Kyle was really confused. “What are you talking about? What is a Reckoning?”

Sparro glanced around, then shook his head. “Not here, now is not the time or place. We should go somewhere more quiet to speak. The rooms you have hired should suffice.” And with that, he turned on heel and left the restaurant. Pausing in the doorway he added; “Assuming I have taught you anything, you will not need to be reminded to clean this up. It would be bad attention given what is coming.” The door closed behind him.

Kyle looked at Marlena, who was staring at the door, radiating fear and co nfusion. Kyle cursed softly, but then addressed the crowd, who were now focused on him. “There is nothing to fear. You will go about your businesses and forget that anything special happened just now. All is well.” Kyle released his connections, left a tip, and offered his hand to Marlena, who took it slowly. “I don’t know what is going on, but we don’t seem to be in danger at the moment. We’d better go hear what he has to say.” Marlena nodded, and they walked out after Sparro, wondering what on earth would happen now.

The room was almost deathly quiet, despite the seven or eight scantily-clad women who were in it, all staring with palatable fear at the half dressed man reclining in a worn chair against one wall. He licked his lips, momentarily revealing pointed teeth that flashed in the low fluorescent light. This was the life... Damien wondered why he’d never thought to do this before.

It had been a simple enough matter.. . with the pimp, Tony, dead, and even Mara, who’d been sort of an alpha female gone, this particular stable of whores had been without any form of management. They’d needed a protector, and he needed to feed. The result was... satisfying... at least to him.

He hadn’t killed any of them, yet. Oh, a drink here and a drink there, but the true prey was their Johns, several of whom would never be seen again. It was the perfect arrangement... well, almost.

There were still restrictions on him... commands that held him back from fully enjoying what should have been the perfect life. His dependence on Sparro had been necessary at first... a bargain in return for which Sparro had saved him from Hunters, but now was galling, a trap from which there seemed to be no escape.

His complexion darkened, and several of the whores drew back in fear. One simple command, words uttered years ago, mandated that he not only remain in town, where he had been a traveler, but that he check in for commands at least weekly. Commands! He was not meat, a human fit only for feeding superior beings, but a Nosferatu, one of the chosen to feast on the meat. And now he was held, bound by this Mashiekeh!

Suddenly he leaped up and grabbed one of the younger whores by the neck and held her aloft. For a moment he was resolved to rip her throat out and drink the torrent of blood to follow. It was an insanely messy way to feed... and almost certain to send the rest running for their lives. He set her down, breathing deeply.

“You will go and find someone fat... hugely, grossly fat. When he has paid and you have bedded him, you will page me and I will feast. If he is fat enough, I will be too full to feed on you. Do you understand? Well?”

The young prostitute was shaking horribly, but managed to stutter out a weak affirmative before fleeing. The others looked as though they wanted to do the same, but instead stayed where they were, wondering how they had ever landed in s uch a mess.

It took a while for the shakes to stop... Damien managed to avoid looking at the whores, knowing that at this particular moment, he didn’t trust himself to not kill and feed on them all, anyway. He wasn’t thirsty... at least, not for that. There had to be something else, something to free himself... ah... perhaps...

“Take of your clothes, all of yo u. This will be a very long night.”

Something... strange... was going on. Carrie knew that, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what exactly that might be. It wasn’t just that business had gotten good in what was typically the beginning of her off-season. Hotel management dealt with highs and lows, and after some good Summer business she had been preparing for the slow times, yet her room count had been drastically rising for the past few days, with occupants ordering room service more than was normal and even bringing a large number of guests.

She had looked into it, wondering if there was a convention on, or something that had evaded the notice of her PR crew, but there was nothing. It was as if the whole crew had just randomly decided to arrive one day. They only paid by the day, but seemed to be settling in almost immovably. All things considered, it was an unexpected windfall, a boost for business that might well finance future opportunities. But there was something else, as well.

There were records of late night complaints from some guests, speaking of loud and inappropriate noises coming from several rooms, as well as some skinny-dipping in the pool and even nakedness in the hallways. There were also records of sending attendants to look into these instances. But none of the attendants had any memory of doing so. For that matter, none of the guests in question had any memory of issuing the complaint. There was even one note that mentioned Carrie herself looking into an apparent three-way going on in the Jacuzzi, which she certainly had no memory of. Yet if she hadn’t known better, she could have sworn the note was in her own handwriting.

Another new couple passed the doors, and Carrie snapped to attention... she had a few rooms available yet. “Welcome to the Mountain Home, do you have a reservation?”

She looked up at the couple with a smile... which vanished suddenly as her eyes widened in shock. The man was not particularly good looking, though there was a presence about him that instantly demanded attention and respect. She would have given it to him, as well, if not for the... woman... walking by her side.

Carrie supposed that his companion might have been about college age, and quite attractive, but any respect she might have had was abolished with her clothing. The full leather outfit was very tight, and cut away in strategic locations, revealing the underside of her breasts, as well as diving well below her waistline, all finished with a collar that looked ready for a leash. The top (what there was of it) was so tight that the pair of nipple clamps the woman was wearin g were plainly displayed, and finishing the look were her eyes, full of wanton lust when she looked at him... as well as when she looked at Carrie, for that matter.

He smiled, as though reading her thoughts, and answered her first question before she could think to say anything about his companions attire. “No, but I would appreciate some rooms, the best you have. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying..”

Carrie’s hands flew over the computer’s keyboard before she could even close her mouth. The best room left, the Anderson suite, appeared on her screen. “Will you be paying with cash or credit card, Mr...?”

“Gustav, my dear. I am Mr. Gustav. And I don’t think that I’ll be pay...”

Gustav.

Everyone in the room froze as the unvoiced word reverberated through their heads. Gustav looked more surprised than he had in a century as he spun. An incredibly old looking man was leaning on the doorway to hall of rooms as though it was all that held him up. He smiled, and the voice returned.

You know the rules. Nothing to attract outside attention. I know you have the finances to pay for several thousand rooms, and so this shall not be a burden for you, yes? And do try to dress your domestics more appropriately in the future. The last thing we need is the vice squad trying to sting us. Erasing police records can be so trying, these days.

Gustav’s look remained shocked, but he slowly turned around to face Carrie. She was still staring at the old man, unable to believe what she was happening. First a woman dressed in a way that would make a whore blush, and now a man who was speaking in her head... “Who are...” she started. The old man cut her off with a wink, and the voice returned.

Be easy, child. There is nothing to fear here. Continue processing Mr. Gustav as though nothing has happened, then come to my suite when your shift is done. You will have some more...complaints... to address.

There was a beat, and Carrie blinked, embarrassed. What was she doing? Oh, yes! “How will you be paying, Mr. Gustav?”

Gustav was not listening to her, but licking his lips nervously. It wasn’t until she repeated herself the fourth time that he glared at his companion for some reason, then pulled out his credit card...

“As you may have noticed, we Mashiekeh are somewhat... territorial... when it comes to our homes and livelihood.” Sparro sat lounging in a hotel room as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Kyle sat opposite him, with Marlena off to the side, while Allie and Andrea were busy looking decorative. Angelica sat in the corner, afraid to look up. Sparro had not so much as glanced at her yet. Michelle he had left in the car. “Therefore we do not often come in contact with one an other. When we do, it is often at invitation, a one on one type scenario, and so any problems that arise are handled in a civilized manner between individuals. Unfortunately, there are also times when conflict cannot be handled in such a manner, and so we find ourselves in need of higher authority. When such a time comes, any of us may call for a Reckoning.”

He took a sip of water before he continued. “A Reckoning is a council of sorts... a gathering, on neutral ground, of all Mashiekeh who can be contacted and can attend. The group hears both complaints, and then gives a consensus ruling. Reckonings tend to be rare, because few of us are willing to admit to such ineptitude in dealing with our personal affairs. More often they are threats to get things done; rarely do we let things go so far. I doubt Gustav truly wanted one... he thought to intimidate me, only to learn that you had gone on your own, and so would face him yourself.”

Kyle nodded slowly. ”So he will claim that Marlena belongs to him, I will say she belongs to no one, and the council will vote on her fate?”

Sparro rolled his eyes. “Only if you wish to seal her fate in his harems, where she would certainly be within a day if that is the best you can do. Any unclaimed human can be made a domestic, on a first come, first served basis as far as we are concerned. If you say she belongs to no one, then by his very claiming of her, she will belong to him, and no need for the Reckoning. Very embarrassing for him, of course, as you had no part in calling the Reckoning, but based on our last encounter, I doubt that would be your preferred result.”

Kyle grimaced. “So y ou’re saying that the only way to save Marlena...”

“...is to take her yourself, yes. If you have marked her, then you will still be fighting his claim, that in doing so you infringed on his territory, as he is owner of the Golden Dancer. Your ignorance of such is actually a defense, because that means he had not been clearly marking his territory. A toss up, though he will have an advantage in the rules. Still, we are Mashiekeh. Following rules is not our greatest strength. Gustav is impulsive, confrontational. Irritating. If you can win their opinions, you can win the girl. But I warn you, whatever their decision, you must not attempt to de fy them as you did me. You would not succeed, indeed, you would likely be driven to the likeness of death, and she would join his harems anyway, though she might be... mistreated... for any irritation you caused. Think on it.”

“I will,” Kyle sighed. “It doesn’t seem as though I have much choice.”

“Oh, there is always choice...” Spa rro said. “At least, there always is for us. I, for instance, have chosen not to just throw you to the wolves so you could say the wrong things and be punished. I do dislike seeing my apprentices shame my teachings.”

Kyle watched him warily. There had to be more to this, but the old Mashiekeh didn’t seem too interested in clarifying, instead choosing that moment to look at Angelica for the first time since arriving.

“She was always my favorite, as I think you knew. I never really thought about it... why so often I would call on her instead of the others. She is beautiful, yes, but among my domestics, that is a matter of choosing between sunsets.”

He rose and walked over to her, lifting her chin with his hand till she was looking up at him, trembling slightly. “But I think I now know. Others are broken so easily... it is difficult to sense those who merely bend. Instead of fighting me, you chose the life I off ered you... and when given the choice between Masters, you chose him.”

Sparro released her and turned back to Kyle. “Such strength is a truly rare gift... the strength to choose the inevitable, and thereby gain control of it. I always sensed it, that strength, like the strength of a willow that forever bends but is never broken. It is my last gift to you, Kyle. To take her back would be to break her at last... an utter waste. Enjoy her as you will... but be careful never to turn your back.”

With that, he walked to the door and opened it. “Kyle, newly Mashiekeh, you are hereby invited to the Reckoning set to happen tomorrow. You will bring the girl Marlena. Any resistance and you shall be punished, and the girl taken anyway. I wish you luck, young one. Now, I must go to stand as one of your judges. Farewell.”

The call had come just as she was supposed to be heading home, a noise complaint from room 209 about room 215. Carrie had been tempted to just pass it on, but now was quite relieved that she hadn’t done so. To think that she had almost missed such a golden customer service opportunity nearly brought her to tears; though luckily she was too busy concentrating on the task at hand to think about much else.

She’d never been much of one for high heels... her job required too much footwork around the hotel. So getting used to the four inch spikes she was now wearing was going to take some doing. Still, she felt confident that so long as she kept practicing sh e’d get it sooner or later.

That’s it, child. Now, with the music...

With only the occasional wobble to reveal her uneasiness, Carrie moved over to the stereo and pressed play. The music was light jazz with a particularly soulful tenor sax that just screamed sensuality, and she matched the rhythm carefully as she remo ved her clothes.

Well... not her clothes, per se. Her clothes were where she had tossed them upon entering the room, a lightly tussled pile in the corner. The clothes she wore now were so much better suited for customer service that she thought it a wonder that she’d ever worn her old frumpy outfits. Now, she strutted (as well as she was able) across the floor in a long fur coat. Underneath were the real treats... but she hadn’t gotten to them yet.

Slowly she shrugged out of the fur coat, trembling slightly as its soft underlining caressed her skin on the way down. Sans coat, she wasn’t much covered. A mini-mini-skirt that covered about as much total skin as her gartered fish-nets was complemented by the frilly thing that served as a bra up top, covering little while shaping all. She spread her legs as she turned to face her customer, hands going up to hair to play with it a bit, all while arching her back to push her breasts out. If she remembered properly... this was how it was meant to be done...

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Quickly, child, put the coat back on and answer it... no point in keeping other customers waiting.

Carrie leaped to get the coat, a bad idea in high heels, falling to the floor right next to it. The old man, still wrink led beyond belief but seemingly less so than days before, shook his head. Ah, it has been long since I trained a domestic myself. Please, do it as best you can, just be dressed before the door opens.

Carrie had just managed to regain her feet and slide into the coat as the door was opened by another of the scantily clad women who had been alternating between whispering advice and encouragement in her ear. It was Mr. Gustav, of the Anderson suite, if she remembered correctly. Her hotel training kicked in immediately.

“Ah, Mr. Gustav, is there anything the staff can do for...”

Be silent, child. You may continue practicing if you will, but do try to keep your feet this time. Carrie cut off immediately, once again sliding out of the coat, shivering again but determined to do it right, now that two guests were watching.

She might not have been standing there, for all the attention that Gustav paid her. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, old monster,” he said after a moment of staring.

The old man smiled, and words filled the minds of all those around. There is a reason that it is called the likeness of death, Gustav. You never were one to take your lessons seriously, but I’d hoped that Sparro, at least, would have it explained it to you after your alliance.

Gustav snarled. “I always hated how you would do that. Couldn’t you show me the respect, at least, to address me with a voice?”

The old man tilted his head. I suppose I could... though you’d understand not a word of it. My vocal chords are not what they used to be, though they may be capable of some sound now... The parched gray lips opened, and a hideous groaning came from them, as dry and dead as day old cut grass. The old man looked pained as it continued, but smiled again when the lips closed. You’ll understand if my voice wasn’t the highest priority of recovery.

The snarling stopped, as Gustav looked almost embarrassed for a brief moment, before the intensity returned to his eyes. “Well enough then, but silently or no, I want an answer, old monster. Why are you here? What do you want?”

Why am I here? A Reckoning has been called, though you seem to have forgotten it. All Mashiekeh who are able to attend shall attend. And I, my old apprentice, am Mashiekeh. As for what I want... his eyes fluttered to Carrie, who positively shuddered in pleasure under his eye, it is no more than any want. Besides, unless I am mistaken, it was you who called this Reckoning. This is about what you want, is it not?

Gustav shook his head. “You never obeyed any summons without reason. My squabble with Sparro’s apprentice will be dealt with within minutes of his arrival with my property. You did not choose to reveal yourself at this moment with that alone in mind.”

The old man looked mildly impressed. I seem to have underestimated you, Gustav, a mistake I once swore never to make again. I am ashamed to say it, but you are right. I do have reasons, and they are my own, though my wish to see you and Sparro again... he paused, may have had something to do with it. I grow tired, and would return to my domestics, unless... another pause, unless you wish to return to an old argument now? Perhaps you would rather I returned to the way you left me before?

Gustav seemed to consider it, but shook his head. “Past quarrels should be left in the past. I have long since moved past the time when I would need a show of force to demonstrate my independence from my old master. Welcome back, Saul. I will leave you to your domestics.” And with that he turned and walked out, perhaps a bit more quickly than usual.

Carrie struggled forward to close the door, sensing that she was wanted for more customer service. It was difficult... in removing the skirt it had become lodged under one of her heels, and she was still trying to think of a sexy way to remove it.

The old man, Saul, looked at her absently for a moment, then sighed. A difficult problem indeed, Child. I recom mend you use teeth. Theirs, to be specific. One of the others, now also nude, crawled over to remove the offending garment, then began kissing her way up Carrie’s leg. The voice returned, and the last coherent part of Carrie’s clouded mind perceived that Master Saul was only talking (thinking?) to himself.

You never did learn, Gustav. And it seems Sparro chose never to teach you. You never were as fond of thinking as he. How long will you survive, without his guidance or mine? Long enough to realize, perhaps, that even an apprentice Mashiekeh is dangerous, even to you?

After two weeks of cross-country pursuit, Michelle had grown accustomed to hotel rooms, and as it happened, this one was somewhat superior to most she had stayed in. Yet as she looked around, the tastefully decorated walls and comfortable furnishings might as well have been cold steel and concrete. It was a ce ll... infuriatingly enough, a cell with an unlocked door that she couldn’t open. For that matter, she couldn’t even leave the bed.

Ever since Sparro had returned her to the room, she had laid spread-eagled on it, her clothes all folded and resting on the chair by the door. That had been two hours previous, two hours of staring naked at the ceiling and wondering what her future held. He had promised to free her... he had to free her. She couldn’t live like this for long, she thought. She would go mad.

When the door finally opened, Sparro walked in, looking preoccupied. Despite the circumstances, Michelle was a bit piqued by this; her busy life didn’t leave much time for relationships, but three weeks previous she’d have sworn that no man could have shared a room with her while she was naked without giving her his complete attention. Well, not that Sparro was a man, per se.

When he finally did turn his attention to her, his eyes mirrored the smile on his face. “Ah, M ichelle, I must apologize for the delay. Certain arrangements, my dear, and now I suppose that you would like to be rewarded. True?”

“Y-yes, master,” she said, on the verge of tears. “Please let me go, please let me forget...”

Sparro looked taken aback. “Forget? Do you really wish to? Have you not enjoyed yourself, these last two weeks?”

“Yes...” she moaned. He wasn’t going to do it. He wasn’t going to let her go. But he had to! “Yes, I have enjoyed myself...”

He interrupted her. “Not only the joys of the hunt, young one, but the joys of, ah, other things as well? Would you truly wish to forget Mara?”

Michelle sobbed as the memory of Mara wracked her brain. Lick me, lick her, feel her, feel inside of her, feel her tongue, tongue on nipple, tongue on clit, tongue on me, tongue in me, feel me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me... The vampire overload was every bit as strong as the first morning after she’d begun the hunt. Her body was now covered with a sheen of sweat, and the feel of the juices between her legs only made her want to cry harder. That, and have Mara again. And again. And again. Fuckmefuckmefuckme......

Gasping for air, she locked her eyes onto Sparro’s. She had to beg... while she still could. “Please... please... not just for me... for my friends... they’ll find me...”

Sparro’s smile grew, but seemed to consider. “Ah, yes. Your comrades. They might not easily understand why their brave leader abandoned them. They might not understand her new bedfellows, either. Indeed, quite a problem.”

She leaped on the opportunity. “I-I have to forget. Or I won’t be able to hunt... not ever again. P-please, master? Please let me forget... like you promised.” You promised! she wanted to scream, but didn’t.

“I did promise, didn’t I?” He seemed to think about it, and hoped flared within her. “If memory serves, my exact promise was to do so if you so wished... but I wonder, do you really wish it? ” Suddenly he was standing over her again, his eyes filling all of her vision, his voice resounding in the depths of her being. “It seems to me that you should at least know the pleasure you would give up to make that choice, don’t you think? Stand.”

She did as she was told, immediately, her eyes fixed on his the whole time. He smiled, but licked his lips as he spoke. “Now, remember Mara, Michelle. Do not try to fight it. Imagine her kneeling by you know, exploring you as she did that night. Remember her. Feel her. Now.”

Michelle’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as that all-to-familiar sensation returned, a pleasure heightened to ridiculous levels by her highly attuned senses. She would be aware of any vampire within a hundred yards, aware of any move they made without need of seeing it. To add such awareness to sex... yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes... O, God, Yes!

“Of course, that is not all I have to offer, my dear.” Her eyes snapped open, though the sensation did not go away. He had removed his clothes, and strode towards her with a purpose sexy in and of itself. She had always found him highly attractive, though she had been, of course, distracted from it alternately by loathing and fear. Yet now he wrapped his arms around her, one hand exploring her chest, the other her crotch, and his lips lightly brushing her neck.

It was as if she was in two places at once, having sex in two rooms, with two very different but highly skilled lovers. She felt every swish of Mara’s tongue, felt the almost explosive ecstacy t hat came whenever the vampiress’ teeth would graze her skin, felt as those hands wrapped around her thighs and ass, and could almost feel the dull warmth of the candles, the low flickering light of Mara’s room, an entire continent away. At the same time should could feel every touch of Sparro’s, his warm breath on her neck, his highly skilled hands accentuating her arousal as simply as if he was tightening a wind-up toy. Release was almost there... she could feel it... she wanted it... O God, she wanted it... “Fuck me, Master!” Fuck me, Mara! “Master!” Mara! “Fuuuuuuuck...” Meeeeeeeeeeeeee...............

Hours later, Sparro sat back in one of the chairs as he watched her pant on the bed, her eyes blankly staring upwards. He had already showered, and he shook his head with a smile. It had been quite some time since he had partaken of physical sex himself... but it was somewhat gratifying to know that his old... proficiencies... had not decayed after years of disuse. She had screamed as she had cum, she had begged for more, and had finally made her choice.

“There still remains the problem of your friends, my pet. They will still be looking for you... trying to bring you back to your old life.”

A tear trickled from one eye. “I... I know, Master.” Her eyes still stared. “But... I still want to stay...”

“They will find you, in time,” he interrupted. “Even those such as I cannot hide from your kind forever, as you so masterfully demonstrated, and they certainly have ways of tracing you. They will try to take you away from me... from her... from this... however you explain it to them.”

She shivered at the thought of her, but did not respond. He tapped his lips in thought, and then grinned. “Ah... perhaps running isn’t the right way, however. Perhaps you should let them know exactly where you are.”

She sat up, suddenly. “B-but... they’ll try to hurt you... try to take me away...”

“And fail on both counts, I assure you. But what if you brought them here, alone, one at a time? To me? I could see to it that they would not want to leave... any more than you want to now.”

Her body shivered, and Sparro knew it wasn’t from the cold. She was considering. He smiled. “I leave it to you, of course, but consider. Consider all the pleasure. I can’t waste time runn ing with you, and I’m sure you do not wish to harm your friends. Why not bring them to me... so that they can join you? Perhaps you could even introduce them to Mara.”

It was carefully calculated... no commands, not even one. It was to her to decide. Sparro waited. She shuddered as she thought about it, and then seemed to smile beatifically. “C-consider... pleasure...” the pleasure that swelled in her seemed to fill the room. She stood, and picked up her phone, dialing quickly as she absently brushed her sweat soaked hair out of her face. “Hello... Rachael? Its Michelle... yeah, I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch... you won’t believe what’s happened... can you trace my signal, and come here quick? Just you... I’m not sure we can trust the others yet... not even Davin, not yet... please, Rachael...? Ok... see you soon...” She turned the phone off, and dropped it as she fell to her knees. “She will come, Master. Then, you will join her with me?”

“I would,” Sparro said, with a grin, “but it would be a bit late, I think. You were right, Davin. Quite impressive.”

Michelle looked up in shock to see an elderly looking man standing in the doorway. “Davin... but... how did you find me...” her eyes widened as she sensed him, truly sensed him, for the first time she could remember. “Y-you’re one of them...”

“Easy, child.” Sparro said soothingly. “Go to the bed and sleep. All will be fine, soon. I will return you... to the freedom you had before I found you.”

Ignoring her as she followed his commands, Sparro nodded to the other man. Though he had only been turned a few decades before, Davin had been nearly fifty at the time... fifty with an attraction for younger girls, as memory recalled.

“When you told me that she would even betray her friends if properly stimulated, I thought to doubt you, Davin. I thought for sure you had coerced her. It seems I owe you an apology.”

Davin grinned. “It was easy enough without doing so... a seventeen year-old libido can be quite easy to prod, given the right tools. She led me to her friends who joined her readily enough, and we all had a merry time until the Nosferatu started getting out of hand again. A bit of memory alteration, a bit of forgetting... realigning old sexual preferences so parents and teachers wouldn’t notice... sometimes I’ve wondered if she is truly worth the trouble.”

Sparro looked back at Michelle’s prostrate form on the bed. “She is,” he said with conviction. “If, however, you are tired of her and her friends...”

Davin shook his head emphatically. “Oh, never. Just something to complain about, I suppose.”

“ Again, I thank you for the loan. Her skills were truly useful. If you wish, I will realign her memories tonight.”

“You are more than welcome, old master. Your cunning use of vampiresses will give me ideas for decades to come, I’m sure. If you wish, you can dally with Rachael when she arrives. Another fine young specimen.”

Sparro lau ghed, but shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but no. My newest apprentice, unfortunately, requires a bit more of my time. You were far easier to train, I fear.”

The conference room of the hotel had never been meant for such an event, but with the whole-hearted assurances of the management, the preparations were carried out as planned. Early the following the morning, tables were set up and the windows carefully shuttered, so that the arrival of the Mashiekeh and their domestics would not be noticed by the random passer-by. Carrie herself stood guard at the door, offering her regrets to any who sought to enter. Those within were to be left alone.

Saul smiled as they gathered. Many he had known before, and their stunned reactions upon seeing him as the entered almost made his time of enduring the likeness of death worthwhile. He was so used to being taken for granted at Reckonings... it was high time that he was a figure of awe again.

Gustav entered wearing a hideously expensive suit, flanked by two domestics, the one he had brought with him and another, presumably recently acquired. Saul clicked his tongue in annoyance. Domestic hunting was supposed to be off-limits during reckoning... this many Mashiekeh gathered in one place could easily deprive an area of all the fine young flesh it had to offer, something bound to attract notice. Gustav seemed to be making up for his earlier following of the rules. While respect existed all around, there was no doubt that some gathered were stronger than others... and were treated with due respect. Saul had always before assumed that he would be strongest but doubted that would be the case today, with his recovery not yet completed. Gustav was a bearer of power, no doubt, but a certain aloofness followed him as well, as the others wondered (sometimes out loud) what the bumbling oaf had done to require a Reckoning to be held.

Pretending that he noticed none of this (even the strongest of Mashiekeh wouldn’t dare defy the pact in the presence of all the others) Gustav walked to a foremost position within the room... suitable for one who was among the strongest, as well as the one who had called the Reckoning. He raised his arms and spoke.

“My dear brothers, I welcome you, and thank you for attending. My most... humble... apologies go to those who had business unduly disturbed by this meeting, but I fear that I was left no recourse outside of barbaric uses of power. It seems that our dear friend Sparro, who didn’t even have the decency to attend...”

“I would ask, old friend, that you leave my decency out of this, particularly when you begin the meeting five minutes early. I am here.”

Everyone in the room turned to watch Sparro enter, Cheri at his side. He nodded to each in turn, but froze when he saw Saul. Saul had to smile.

Has it been so long, Sparro, that you have no words of welcome for your old master? How amusing that your own apprentice proved almost as troublesome as you were, in your time.

“Saul,” Sparro finally said with a small nod. “How long have you been...”

My vitality grows by the day, old friend. Yet when Gustav’s summons were new, it was all that I could do to heed them. It has been long years of loneliness, feeding only when the opportunity came.

Again, Sparro inclined his head. “As I’d expected, then. What is it to be, old monster? Battle, or deliberation?”

I’m stung, apprentice, that you would suggest that I violate the rules that I once established. Let us deal with the matter at hand. Our... private... affairs can follow, if you wish.

“Yes!” Gustav, not used to being ignored, interjected. “Let us deal with the matter at hand... unfortunately, it seems that new apprentice of yours has failed to arrive, Sparro. Is he running, yet again? Did you warn him to run, taking my property with him to who knows where...”

Enough, Gustav. It is still early, as Sparro said before. And whether or not the girl is your property is the matter up for debate, is it not? You always were too hasty.

“There is no debate,” Gustav snarled. “As an employee of mine she clearly fell under my jurisdiction, and my jurisdiction alone, and I demand satisfaction for this...”

“Demand is a tricky word in a place like this,” Sparro said crossly. “We are not humans, for you to command.”

“You dodge the point prettily, Sparro, but I will not be diverted. What words of defense do you have for this... project of yours?”

“Words of defense? None. Kyle ceased to be my apprentice when he disobeyed my commands and left my care. He is Mashiekeh full now, and can defend himself when he arrives...” Sparro closed his eyes moment. “Ahh... yes, here he comes now, as well as,” suddenly his eyes opened wide. “Ahhhh, clever boy...”

The door opened again, and Kyle walked in, nodding briefly to Sparro before standing in the middle of the assembled group, Marlena close behind him. Gustav spat.

“It’s about time you arrived, whelp,” he said with venom. Now return my property to me, or deal with the consequences! Or would you try to steal what is mine?”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow. “Though I am new to your numbers, I would never think of denying a fellow Mashiekeh of his property. I must apologize to the others for having to meet me under such circum stances, but I feel you have all been horribly misled. Gustav, I presume,” he nodded to the enraged Mashiekeh, “feels that I have stolen property that is his. I have not stolen anything from anyone. Marlena, here, is not my property.”

Gustav smiled evilly. “Then she is mine now. It has been said that I had never marked her. I do so now, before this entire assembled body! She is mine!” He looked around in triumph, only to finally notice the startled or inquisitive looks around him. “There can be no doubt of this! Any human can be taken, if claimed!”

No one denies that, Gustav... Saul thought slowly, not even noticing the way Kyle and Marlena started at his unspoken speech, But if you were quicker to see, and slower to pounce, you would see that no human stands before you to claim.

Sparro’s look was absolutely delighted. “Yes! Friends, enemies, brothers … let me be the first to welcome Marlena to the ranks of the Mashiekeh!”