Big city

“Lay down and relax,” Enoch suggested. “Do not fear. I shall drain you until you walk the verge of death and life, then I shall have you drink of my blood and bring you back. To life, to unlife. To immortality. Feel proud, little mortal. Very few are granted what you get out of a whim. Be a good boy and I shall take good care of you as well.”
I hate you, Logan repeated in his mind. You damn monster, turning me into a monster and thinking I should relish it. Damn you. I hate you, hate you, will kill you, yes. Shoot you down, shoot all that stolen blood out of you and then cut off your head. Or maybe take a flame thrower and kill you, burn you alive. Burn you until you die, monster.
The vampire chuckled.
“You think that is so easy, do you?”
Logan jerked.
“I can hear every thought of yours,” Enoch explained politely. “So you dream of killing me? How sweet. How pathetic. Aside all the cockiness I don't really possess, you are being ridiculous. If I was so easily killed, I would not have made it to hundred. But I am seven hundred years old, silly boy. And frankly growing weary of your mad screams of vengeance. Please, keep it down, you are causing me a headache. Besides, I much dislike stupidity.
Do you so much hate this fate? Say if you do and I shall put you out of your misery. I can always go out and find another prey. Perhaps that sweet worried one, the one you call Jerome? Kill you and make him my lover, how does that sound?”
It was then that Logan burst forward and struck Enoch into his face... or would have, if the vampire wouldn't have moved away at godspeed and wrenched his wrist aside so swiftly and with such power that Logan cried out loud.
Enoch gazed at him and shrugged.
“I apologize. I didn't mean to break your wrist, really. I just keep forgetting how fragile you, mortals, are. But you must understand – think what you like, but you shall not make any physical attacks on me. I do not tolerate that. Is it clear?”
Logan gritted his teeth in pain and nodded.
“Now, will you lay down or do I have to tie you up?”
Logan didn't respond, but he lie flat on the bed. It was cold. Yes, he would have to play along. But how, how could he if he would be turned into such...monster? He chewed his inner lip. The burning pain in his wrist was even good. It kept the pain in his mind a bit under control.
“Good.”
Enoch lie beside him, dead cold body touching Logan's. The young man twitched, yet managed to remain still. Like marble. Marble stone. Dead and cold white stone. Not human. Monster. Monster.
“I shall begin,” Enoch said simply, wrapping one arm around Logan's torso and tilting his head with the other. And then those terrible fangs pierced his tender skin again, going deeper and deeper, straight at his heart. It beat so loud as if trying to escape its fate. But there was none now, was there?

**

“Get away from me, Michael,” Xavier managed to grunt. “Please,” he added, since the boy was still clinging to him, gazing at him earnestly.
He could smell him. Hear him. That drum which had been his just hours ago. It was calling. And he saw Michael as red. The world was red. Hunger.
Michael drew aside, looking at Xavier with huge baby eyes. “I'm sorry, sir.”
Xavier sighed. “It's alright. Just... keep the distance. It's for your own good, Mike.”
“Yessir.”
He kept his silence and composure. The boy didn't say anything, either, since Xavier was the superior.
Pain in his body was not the worse. Hunger was in his mind. Rolling, rattling, smashing against his will. Soon enough he found himself clinging to the bars, eyes closed.
It did not matter. The beast was still there. So hungry.
No. He would rather die than injure Michael. He would cling to his human mind. He had been turned into a beast, but he still had his will.
An hour passed. Emmanuel had left, but now he returned, looking rather impatient and dissatisfied.
“My my, mister Ford. You do seem to have some strength left. But for how long? Now, this will not do. It is not nice to keep me waiting. I think I shall aid you a bit, you know. Toby, get me the boy. Don't worry, dear son, I shall return him to you in a minute.”
Michael tried to get away from the other vampire, but he, too, despite of his youth, was too agile and strong. And hence the blond boy was delivered to Emmanuel. Small vampire took a strong hold of the boy whereas Toby at his command tore off the boy's clothes. Michael cried out loudly.
“Damn you,” Xavier hissed. “Torture me if you will, but leave the boy alone.”
Emmanuel laughed. “Torture? Who spoke anything of torture? Who do you take I am, a monster? Naah. I will just make him more...appetizing.”
“Fuckin' bloodsucker,” Xavier cursed. Emmanuel giggled. “Oh, am I? Yes I am. And so are you.”
Michael yelped, still unaware of what was said. Of course, who would believe such a thing, Xavier sighed. He hadn't, either. Yet it happened.
Emmanuel held a fancy dagger and with it he slashed down Michael's tender back. The boy screamed. Blood trickled down his skin. “So beautiful,” the vampire whispered, bringing the blade down over Michael's shoulder and arm. Another bloody track. Finally he pressed his lips upon the soft pink rose petals. Michael struggled. Once the kiss ended, his lips were torn and bloody. Only then did Emmanuel release him and shove him back to the cell. The boy wept and shuddered on the ground.
The smell was so strong now. Rich, lustrous. It wrapped around Xavier's mind and pulled him, tore into his body and mind. He growled and turned away, clinging to the bars once again, pressing his head against the cold metal. Would not. Would...not...

**

“He still hasn't come back,” Shawn grunted. “And now they've taken Mike, too. I say we get together and wipe the entire nest out.”
“Madness,” Emory murmured. “Shawn, this is madness what you say. There are a good five hundred vampires out there. We have a hundred and nineteen people, of those only about seventy capable of pulling a trigger in right direction. We are lucky if they don't get such plan into their heads or else it'll be us wiped out.”
“What if we sent word to the government,” Shawn offered, gritting his teeth.
Emory smirked.
“Don't you remember what proposal they made to Xavier and how he responded? They care naught of him. They'd say he's just getting the usual fate of a vampire hunter. We're casualties of war to them, Shawn. Don't you ever forget that. We're outlaws, just like vampires. Well, on a bit better terms, since we're not exactly hunted, but still...”
“So what the fuck you want me to do? Sit on my ass while Xavier's getting busted?!”
“I am saying, that unfortunately there is nothing to be done. If he is alive, he will return and you know it. If they have killed him... I doubt they have. Seriously. But what you mustn't do, Shawn, is to lose control. You go around running wild and the gang follows. Keep us together, until Xavier returns or we find confirmation that he is dead. Please, Shawn. You can do this. You're his mate. It's mate's duty.”
Emory patted Shawn's back.
“You can do this, buddy. I believe in you. We all do. We have to keep together.”
Shawn nodded. He'd kinda grown up during this night. There was a shade in his eyes which had not been there before. Also a wrinkle at the corner of his mouth.
Mate's duty. He could do this. As long as he didn't have to take the widow's duty. Become the chief. Xavier was the chief. He wasn't. Not as if he lacked the ambition, but... It was Xavier. It had always been Xavier. And unless he'd turn into a monster overnight, he'd be one for many good years.

**

Grace lie nimbly on her bed, wearing a short dress of black silk. Cool and soft touch of fabric soothed her mind. “Enter,” she called before Emmanuel could knock. And so he did enter. Mmm....smelling good. Grace sniffed the air. “Come in, dear. Come.”
Emmanuel cocked his head and pranced over the chamber straight up to Grace. Then he sat on the bed and smiled. Grace pulled him over and their mouths met in a hungry kiss. Satisfied, the lady vampire released her ally and simply ran her nose over his throat.
“You smell so good, Emmanuel. Tell me the news. He said yes, didn't he?”
Emmanuel shook his head.
“He said no.”
Grace hissed and one of her nails raked Emmanuel's cheek, drawing blood. The man laughed.
“Do not worry, sweet Grace. I have another plan, and another. As to our dear mister Xavier Ford, then... I have something for you. I am certain you will enjoy it.”
He removed a small disc from his pocket, stood up and inserted it into the DVD-player. Once the wide screen was turned on, Xavier's face came in central view. Naked, with Emmanuel on top of him. Making him. Toying with him.
Grace smiled broadly.
“Mmm....beautiful. Did you fuck him?”
“Naah. Not quite. But watch. Watch, my sweet one. It will turn very interesting. I have the entire night recorded. As to now, then he is sharing cell with a pretty thirteen year old from his own gang. He is starving and chewing the bars, the boy is bleeding... And of course the cameras are up. Doesn't it make it up a little, oh Grace?”
Grace smirked.
“You are wonderfully evil, Emmanuel.”
She watched. It was hot. It was evil. It was pain. It turned her on. She slid a hand between her thighs and slowly rubbed over her clitoris. Mmhh... She found Emmanuel looking at her.
“What is it?”
“Don't you know already?”
“Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Say it.”
“I say you wouldn't mind a cock inside that wet and yearning pussy,” Emmanuel grinned. “The video turns you on, doesn't it? There will be more of it, much more... And you are so empty, Grace. Where is Enoch? Where is he?”
Grace hissed.
“Where is he, Grace?”
Grace slapped him yet again, but this time her hand was caught and held. She struggled.
“Don't,” Emmanuel said. “Else I break your pretty wrist and we wouldn't want that, now, would we?”
He had to catch her other hand immediately and lock it down as well.
“Not into my face, dear,” Emmanuel murmured. “You can have my body, but not my face. I like it as it is.”
Xavier on the screen whimpered. His eyes were as huge as Grace's head and then the camera moved over to his cock. For some peculiar reason, it was erect. Grace let out a sigh. Emmanuel grinned.
“You'd love it, wouldn't you, sweet lady Grace? You'd love him to put that big cock inside you and pump you to all seven heavens.... Well, maybe I could arrange it. After all, he is my son. But it comes with a price. All comes with a price, Grace. Me calling to the best free lanced cyborg assassin comes with a price, too. Think of it – a girl cyborg offing your dear husband. Doesn't it just make you...ache?”
It did and Grace panted. She had a wild imagination and it was running amok. Xavier had began to cry. Emmanuel still held her wrists strong and tight. She reached out and touched Emmanuel's groin with her toes. The man chuckled.
“You want it, don't you, bitch?”
“What did you call me?”
“Bitch,” Emmanuel replied. “Whore. Slut. Hungry cunt. Little dripping twitching pussy. That's what you are, aren't you, Grace? Forever hungry, not for blood, but for a man who can take you and rape you.”
“And do you plan to say you could be such a man,” Grace mocked.
Emmanuel slammed his groin against her foot.
“Maybe. If you are a good little girl, Grace. Are you a good little girl, Grace?”
Grace nodded.
“Very, very good... at being bad.”
Emmanuel laughed.
“Is that so? But you do know that bad girls ought to be...punished?”
Grace nodded.
“Would you like to be punished, Grace?”
She nodded.