Forgotten Soul
by
Tasha D-Drake
Smashwords Edition
Volume One of The Soul Reader Series
This publication is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
Wittegen Press
Copyright © 2011 by Tasha D-Drake
http://beren_writes.livejournal.com/
Cover art by Tasha D-Drake
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Reference No: ISBN 978-1-908333-07-0
Titles in "The Soul Reader Series" (In reading order)
Forgotten Soul (Soul Reader #1)
Forbidden Soul (Soul Reader #2)
Link to series webpage:
http://www.wittegenpress.com/catalogue_test/items/show/25
Dedication
Thanks to Sophie and Rob for all their help.
~*~
Contents
~*~
John straightened out his jacket and plastered a friendly smile on his face before ringing the bell. The disarming expression, which he had mastered very early on, was a great advantage in his profession.
"Hello," he said as the door was opened by an imperious looking, blonde woman who towered over him by at least three inches, "I'm John, the agency sent me."
The woman looked him up and down and then glanced past him into the street.
"Just one?" she asked, apparently annoyed. "There are three of us."
John allowed his smile to grow just a little and pulled up his sleeve.
"I'm experienced for three," he said, displaying the three decorative lines around his wrist.
Each was different, but they were all Celtic scroll work and they marked him for exactly what he was. His client appeared surprised.
"Well in that case," she said, obviously considering him in a new light, given her change in tone, "come on in. Michael is going to love you."
He followed her into the house, closing the door behind him carefully and watching as the woman disappeared into the room at the end of the hall. The hallway was sparsely furnished, one bookcase and a very expensive painting on the wall, but nothing that really spoke of the owners of the house. He had heard rumours about them of course, working as he did he made sure he knew all the gossip about potential clients, but he had nothing concrete. They were new to London, at least this time around, and everyone was speculating why they had moved over from Dublin.
Plastering false confidence on his face and in his body language, he walked towards the open door and stepped into the room.
"This is John," the woman introduced him, smiling a predatory smile from where she was sitting next to a man with very dark hair and eyes.
He gave the couple his best innocent look and nodded his head. Only when there was movement from his left did he notice the other man in the room. John guessed the guy was about six foot, hence much taller than him, and there was something about this third client which held his eye. The stubble and messy hair were interesting and there were rock hard abs showing under the half open white shirt, but it wasn't just that. It was a little disconcerting.
"What would you like me to call you?" John asked, putting himself back on track and directing his question to the woman, since she was the only one who had spoken to him.
"I'm Lisa, my beautiful Russian here is Nikolai and the tall brooding one is Michael," the woman said, looking him over a second time. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?"
It wasn't an unusual comment and he smiled again.
"I do my best."
"How do you feel about sex?"
The question came from Michael and interrupted his usual rehearsed speech. His appointments most often had a certain order to them, but it seemed not tonight.
"I'm at your service," he said, surprised by the question, but trying not to show it.
Some of his clients wanted sex as well, others didn't, it was all part of the job.
"That wasn't what I asked," Michael said, stepping towards him and giving him a very obvious once over. "Do you like sex or would you rather avoid it?"
Lisa laughed at the question, more of the normal reaction he would have expected from his clients. He had been hired, he was there to do whatever they wanted, which made the question quite an odd one. Not sure why he had been asked meant he didn't really know how to answer it either. It could have been the build up to some sort of game.
"I like sex," he replied eventually, because he could already feel his body's instinctive reaction to the other man and being honest seemed like the best course of action.
Surprisingly, he saw some of the tension leave Michael's stance and Lisa laughed again.
"I told you Michael was going to love you," Lisa said as if she found the whole situation utterly amusing. "He's such a gentleman."
Michael scowled at Lisa, making her laugh more; the whole dynamic was confusing. John had serviced triads before, but this one was very bizarre.
"Well," he said, deciding to put the evening back on track, "if I might use your shower, I'll get ready."
"You came unprepared?" Nikolai immediately jumped on that as if very unimpressed.
John could not help stiffening just a little; he did not like the other man's tone. Of course it was not his place to criticise the clients.
"I am always prepared," he replied, keeping his tone light, "but I came by Tube. I'm sure we would all prefer if I did not stink of rush hour."
"I'll show you the way," Michael said before Nikolai could comment a second time.
Holding his bag a little more tightly than he needed to, John followed the taller man out of the room and up the stairs. He observed everything as they walked, but there wasn't much to see. The whole house was done in white and magnolia and it did not really feel lived in.
"How long have you been here?" he asked, deciding that small talk might break some of the tension.
"We moved in two weeks ago," Michael replied, looking a little surprised by the enquiry, "but we've been in London nearly three months now. Lisa took a long time decorating this place before she would finally let us move in. She had a vision."
John was not impressed with 'the vision', but of course he did not say so.
"It's a nice house," he replied instead, since he was impressed with the architecture, if not the interior design.
Michael favoured him with a smile for that and he had the feeling he had given away a little more than he intended.
"It's white," Michael replied and grinned; "but it's always better to let Lisa have her way for a while. I have a huge green sofa and a widescreen TV on order for next month."
To his surprise, John found himself smiling back without having to think about it. Again it was unsettling, most of his job was about acting and Michael was drawing real reactions out of him.
"What do you like to watch?" he asked.
"Well when I can sneak it past Lisa I do enjoy the footie," Michael told him in a mock whisper. "She still calls me an uncivilised heathen."
The conversation was brought to a pause as Michael opened a door and revealed a huge bathroom. In one corner was a sunken bath that was easily big enough for three, if not four and there was a glass-walled shower in the other.
"Wow," John said, honestly impressed, "that is one hell of a bathroom."
"We have three all the same. Just turn the middle knob on the shower for hot water," Michael said with a smile; "if you touch any of the others you are on your own. Damn thing needs an instruction manual."
"I'll take that under advisement," he said and grinned back, walking fully into the room. "Where would you like me once I'm done?"
The smile on Michael's face slipped a little at the question, almost as if his client was not used to doing this regularly, which had to be untrue.
"The master bedroom is through there," Michael pointed at a door in the side wall; "it'll be the most comfortable."
John nodded and then turned back to the shower; he did not dwell on what was to come, it was a waste of energy.
Michael left him alone and he efficiently stripped off, folding his clothes and putting them in his bag as he pulled out his other supplies. He had prepared for all eventualities before leaving home, but it was part of his role to be completely spotless and London travel did not allow for that. Sliding back the door of the shower, he turned on the water and then went back to his things to pick up what he needed as the water warmed up. When he stepped under the spray it was beautifully hot, just what he had been hoping for. He stood there for a while just enjoying the jets of water on his body, allowing them to loosen any muscles that had tightened thanks to his journey.
When the shower door opened again it pushed him out of his reverie, but he did not stiffen or turn.
"Hello," he said, slipping straight back into character.
"Do you mind?" It wasn't much of a surprise to hear Michael's voice. "I came back to bring you a towel and I couldn't resist."
Only now did he look over his shoulder.
"Of course not," he said with a smile.
He did not bother to point out if Michael wanted him dancing the tango naked in the hallway it was all part of the service.
Usually his clients were much more demanding.
Taking his reply as an invitation, Michael stepped all the way into the shower and John moved forward a little to make room.
"May I help?" his companion asked.
John just handed the other man the shower gel and let his tongue dance over his lips as he watched to see what Michael would do. It wasn't the first time he had taken a shower with a client, but Michael's hands were surprisingly gently when they came into contact with his body. Long fingers slicked with suds ran over his skin and made goose bumps rise over his flesh. The way Michael began to wash him was so nice, in fact, that for a little while he almost forgot why he was there.
"How old are you?"
The question just popped out of his mouth as Michael's arms wound round him, spreading lather up his chest. Of course he realised his mistake instantly, rule number one, never ask a client personal questions, but Michael laughed and didn't seem to mind.
"Am I that obvious?" Michael asked, pressing in close behind him and giving him firsthand knowledge of why Michael had mentioned sex.
"Depends what you mean by obvious," he replied as Michael's erection slid against his arse.
"Lisa keeps telling me I need to mature, not that I'm sure what she means. I'm seventy four, but she looks at me as if I'm twenty most of the time."
John didn't voice his surprise, but he would have guessed Michael was younger than that. Michael didn't act seventy four and of course Michael would never appear his age.
"You don't look a day over thirty," John joked back rather than commenting.
"It's all in the blood," Michael replied and wrapped a hand around John's cock, making him gasp.
It was a little bit of a shock to discover that he was already hard as nimble fingers took hold of him. He was quite capable of making himself aroused when the need came up, but it seemed his body was already reacting to Michael. It was yet another moment to add to the growing catalogue of the unusual about this job.
"What do you do?" he asked, mostly to distract himself from quite how much he was enjoying Michael's hand.
Since Michael didn't seem to mind answering questions, John wanted to learn as much as he could. Knowledge was always useful.
"I'm a writer," was the reply as Michael nuzzled his neck; "my first love. I'm in negotiations to put on a play just off the West End. That's why we moved to London, well that and Nik was bored."
John almost laughed, but managed to catch himself and let himself sink into the feeling of Michael's hands on his body instead. It wasn't often he allowed himself the luxury of pleasure when on the job, it could be distracting, but Michael really did have a wonderful touch.
"Have you always been ..?"
The question caught him completely off guard.
"You mean did I have a life before I was kidnapped and trained to be a vampire whore?"
The words were out before he could stop them and in his native accent as well. He felt Michael completely still behind him and inside his head he cursed. He wasn't really sure where the bitterness had suddenly erupted from; he had come to terms with his position a long time ago, but clearly he had allowed his defences to drop too much.
"Sorry," he apologised quickly, English upper class accent back in place and mask back on, "I shouldn't have said that. You appear to have an unsettling affect on my natural calm. To answer your question I was an actor, up and coming, but a pretty good one, even if I do say so myself."
Michael still wasn't moving, either away or back to what they had been doing. John wasn't sure what to do, pissing off the clients was a definite no-no.
"You were kidnapped?"
John swore under his breath.
"You're not even English are you?"
"Scottish," he replied, praying that he could salvage the situation.
He turned in Michael's arms and gave the man his best smile.
"Look," he said, "the time for dramatics is long past, darling. I'm as addicted as you and we both know it, so how about we forget I have a stupid mouth and I put it to better use?"
He went to sink to his knees, but Michael stopped him.
"You don't have to," Michael said.
Apparently the universe was refusing to give him a break and it was just getting worse.
"I wasn't lying about the sex," he decided to be blunt and so used his real accent. "Once you've been with a vampire, humans just don't cut it. You're attractive and you seem to give a shit, which gives you two pluses. You need blood, your housemates need blood, so we might as well enjoy the rest of it as well. Just tell me what you want and I can make us both happy."
For a moment Michael hesitated, but then John found himself being pulled close.
"How about you let me take care of you and we'll see how it goes from there?" was Michael's counter suggestion.
"I'm all yours," John replied and any other words he might have come up with were shut off as Michael's mouth clamped to his.
Kissing wasn't something he was often overly fond of, it tended to be sloppy and not as pleasant as the person kissing him often thought it was, but Michael, as it turned out, was a fantastic kisser. John was quite used to being claimed, vampires liked to dominate and yet somehow Michael possessed his mouth in a way that made him want more. The kiss drew a moan out of him, not a fake one he thought his client wanted to hear, but a real one and all the passion his hasty words had killed came flooding back.
That well trained voice in the back of his mind was telling him that he should be doing something, that he needed to be pleasing Michael even if Michael wasn't asking for it. It was quite loud, but Michael seemed to make it impossible. John was following, not leading, not even pretending to follow while actually leading, which he was usually quite good at. Michael seemed to know how this should go and John was along for the ride.
"God you're beautiful," Michael whispered to him, breaking the kiss and pulling their bodies into line. "I haven't reacted to anyone like this in years."
John opened his mouth to reply, but gasped instead as Michael nibbled his neck.
"I can almost taste you already," Michael moaned into his ear.
He felt himself tremble as the need welled up in him. This was an automatic response, one he hated and yet craved. The bite of a vampire was as addictive as any drug and his body was five years into the addiction. For a brief second he would have done anything to have Michael bite down on his flesh, but he managed to push it away. He would not beg.
"Sex first," Michael told him, seeming to read his reaction, "then we both get what we need."
The words were understanding not degrading and for an instant he almost believed Michael saw them as equals. Many of his clients had used his addiction against him, playing games with him as if they were somehow superior, but not Michael, at least not yet.
John let Michael wash him, giving up trying to reciprocate after the third time Michael pushed his hands away. If the vampire wanted to layer attention on his skin he was happy to let Michael do whatever he felt like. However, he did have to grab for the railing on the shower wall when Michael decided to use soap lubricated fingers to open him up. Even having prepared earlier, he had tightened up somewhat and Michael had long, nimble fingers, so taking two at once without any warning had him panting.
"Fuck," he said as Michael massaged into him.
"Not quite yet," Michael said with a laugh, "Lisa would kill me if I had you where she couldn't see."
"She likes to watch?" he asked, trying to distract himself from his traitorous body.
"They both do," Michael told him, working his arse with one hand and taking his cock in the other. "They won't join in, not tonight, they're not in the mood for it, but they'll enjoy watching."
John moaned as Michael brushed past his prostate and pumped him firmly as well. If the whole of London had walked in to watch at that moment he probably wouldn't have noticed.
"If I make you come now, will you be up for round two?" Michael asked, lips brushing his ear. "I'd like to see you come just for me."
That admission sent shots of arousal all over his body.
"Yeah," he said, bracing his other hand on the glass wall of the shower.
That was one of the advantages of his association with vampires; he was thirty two, but he looked and physically reacted like he was twenty two. He could go all night if the client requested it.
"Thank fuck," Michael said and began to pump him harder.
John came embarrassingly quickly and Michael kept going, those clever hands moving until John's legs had gone weak and there were spots in front of his eyes. It was bloody marvellous and for once John just let himself enjoy the rewards of his body.
"Now you smell even better," Michael said, bringing up the hand that had been pumping John's cock, avoiding the water and then licking his fingers.
John couldn't stop looking and Michael gave him a long slow smile.
"I'm glad I said yes to sex," he said and smiled back; it was even the truth.
That turned Michael's smile into a grin.
"Time to wash off," the vampire said and pulled him under the spray properly.
John laughed and almost inhaled water, but it was worth it as he grabbed one of the dials on the shower controls and just turned it. The downward spray became jets from at least four directions and one of them got Michael right in the face.
"Now you asked for it," Michael said and laughing along with him, grabbed the removable, separate shower head and turned it on.
John screamed like a girl when the cold water hit him. He fought back without even thinking about it, but his attack with shower gel was ill-conceived and Michael had him locked in strong arms before he could really start the offensive. When Michael kissed him again the fun dropped away as the passion rose once more and he surrendered all over again. With some fumbling they managed to turn off all the water and then fell out of the shower still kissing.
They were dripping all over the floor, but Michael didn't seem to care and John was kind of disappointed when they finally did break apart. Michael pulled a towel from the rail and draped it around him, stepping close again and making John look at him.
"If I could I'd take you to my room," Michael told him, rubbing his hair for him with the corner of the towel, "I'd keep you all to myself."
For a fleeting moment, John wished that were possible.
"Are you ready for this?" Michael asked in little more than a whisper.
It was sweet really, Michael seemed honestly concerned for him. He gave the vampire a small smile for the effort.
"Of course," he said, reaching up and running a hand down Michael's face, "but thank you."
Michael nodded then and finally turned away, picking up the other towel, and began to dry himself off. John took that as his cue to do the same and efficiently removed most of the moisture from his body. Then he bent down and pulled the tube of lube out of his bag. Michael watched him, but did nothing to indicate interest in further contact, so John lubed himself up quickly and with purpose rather than as a display.
He was surprised when Michael offered him his hand once he was done, but took it anyway. Then the vampire led him through the door to the master bedroom and he was faced with Lisa and Nikolai sitting on the bed looking at him. Both of the other vampires were still dressed and they were sitting demurely on either side of the bed, only their hands touching, and yet there was an intensity to their gazes which made his skin prickle. Now he remembered what he was there for, because he could all but feel their hunger.
"We will have to send the agency a bonus," Lisa said, smiling at him and she all but ate him with her eyes.
This was the kind of vampire he was used to, all selfish want and hunger and somehow it made him feel more balanced. He knew how to deal with this.
"Give us a show, Mikhail," Nikolai said and John looked back at the vampire holding his hand.
Not being much of an exhibitionist John focused his whole attention on Michael. He let the vampire push him onto the bed and arrange him on his back, legs spread. If he was being truthful he expected Michael to push his knees further up and apart and just take him there and then, so when Michael climbed onto the bed between his legs, but bent down and started licking at one nipple instead, he was surprised. He didn't even have to think about what he should have been doing, he just arched up as Michael drew yet another real moan out of him.
"Oh, pretty, he's so responsive," Lisa's voice dented his enjoyment a little, "play him for us, Michael. Make the little one sing."
The professional corner of his mind noted the client's request and planned to employ his acting skills, but as soon as Michael's lips touched his skin he didn't need to. It really was as if he was an instrument and Michael was the musician as the vampire continued to touch him. If the universe had been running correctly, Michael should have been an Incubus, not a vampire; Michael had the magic touch. By the time Michael swallowed his rapidly hardening cock, John's skin was singing and so was he. He was glad that all that was required of him were moans and groans, because there was no way he could have kept up the fake accent with everything that Michael was doing to him.
When slick fingers were pushed into him again he was reduced to gasps and it took everything he had not to come down Michael's throat. He was so very close to the edge and it was all real, no acting involved. Holding off was the most wonderful torture and it was only an iron will that let him do it.
"Please," he finally begged after what seem like an eternity.
"Michael, sweetie, I think you're breaking him," Lisa said, sounding as amused as ever.
"Can't have that," Michael said after pulling off and smiling down at him, all teeth. "On your hands and knees, John, and look at Lisa and Nik, so they can see you come undone, there's a good boy."
It was then that John realised Michael was playing a role, just like he was. There was passion and desire in the eyes that looked at him, but something else as well, something much more calculated. It helped John remember who he was and what he was doing. He smiled back, one of his practiced smiles, and did as he was asked. He was just about comfortable when Michael took hold of his hips and pushed in with one long stroke. He felt his eyes open with shock and he could barely focus on the two vampires sitting at the head of the bed watching him.
"Oh fuck," he said as his arse screamed at the abuse and his cock throbbed mercilessly, not on the same page as his brain about the whole acting thing apparently.
Michael was big and all of Michael at the same time made his gasp and claw his fingers into the sheets. Thankfully Michael did not start to move immediately, giving him time to adjust to being so full, but the vampire did something else, equally as mind blowing. He felt a sharp nail run along his back and he shuddered, knowing Michael had drawn blood. When the vampire leant forward, curling over him and licked along the stripe of the scratch, John could barely breathe.
The connection that occurred between vampire and human when a vampire fed flared through him during the brief contact and he almost face planted into the bed. It was such a strong reaction that the noise he made was completely incoherent, somewhere between a moan and a cry.
"I want to taste him."
The words were edged with a hard Russian accent which could only have been Nikolai. John didn't want that, not yet, even though his whole body trembled at the thought; he wanted Michael. The want was so hot, so pure that for a moment he forgot who was paying whom.
"Not yet," Lisa said, saving him for a while, "let Michael disarm him completely."
The fact was, Michael had already disarmed him; he hadn't been so undone by a client since his first outing. Something about Michael fed right into his hind brain and circumvented all his trained responses. As Michael began to move inside him all he wanted to do was spread his legs and come. It was so hard not to beg and in fact he only lasted a few minutes before words began to fall from his lips, words he had never given to another lover, not and meant them.
"Fuck him hard, Mikhail," Nikolai said with a laugh.
John had never liked being watched, not like this, but he was so far gone it made no difference. His body loved what was happening and his brain was only along for the ride. When Michael flipped him over onto his back again, he just sprawled and this time Michael did lift his legs and push right back in. The angle had him whining in the back of his throat as Michael pounded into him, all carefully controlled power and grace. His eyes met the vampire's and Michael's irises glowed.
There was no illusion now, no pretence; Michael was no human being, he was a creature of legend and John surrendered to that power. After what could have been seconds or minutes, he felt hands take his arms, spreading them cross-like on the bed, but he only looked at Michael. As fangs broke the skin on both his wrists, his body flooded with the high that only came from vampire bites, but he whimpered and refused to give in.
Michael pushed into him one last time, coming deep inside him, but still John held on.
One of his legs fell back to the bed as Michael released it, the other was pushed further to the side and John kept his eyes firmly on Michael's face as the vampire lowered himself onto the bed. Michael kissed the inside of his leg first in an almost reverent gesture and he whimpered again. He wanted, he needed and when Michael's fangs dug in to the soft flesh of his thigh, he keened. The connection flared, his high peaked and he came all at the same time.
For some time everything disappeared in a haze of endorphins and so much pleasure that he wanted to surrender completely. He wanted the vampires to suck him dry, wanted it like air, but that was why he was trained. Finally that training kicked in and his mind swam towards reality.
John gathered his will, pulling his sense of self back into his body and sent out the mental command to stop. Moans came from all three of the vampires, but he felt them withdraw their fangs one at a time. Very few humans could take three and come out alive at the other end, the pleasure was too great, but John was an expert. He was also something much more and as his clients pulled away from him he opened his mind and sent out a psychic blast.
All three vampires slumped in place, exactly where they were.
For a while John just lay there, staring at the ceiling and catching his breath. That had been the most intense experience he had ever had and he had been feeding vampires for nearly five years. Pushing himself up and onto his side was more effort than he cared to admit and it took every last ounce of strength he had to climb over Nikolai and off the side of the bed.
Staggering to the bathroom, he bent over the sink and threw water on his face. His arse ached, his head was spinning, but he had a job to do and it wasn't the one his clients thought they were paying him for. When he felt strong enough to at least stand properly, he washed himself down and pulled a towel off the rail, drying himself off before walking back into the other room. As his eyes alighted on Michael it was the first time he had ever felt regret for what he was about to do.
Shaking his head, he refused to think about it. He had no more choice than he had led Michael to believe earlier; he was trapped in a world he had not chosen and his path was set for him. With a sigh he walked up beside the bed, climbing on next to where Lisa had fallen onto her back. Reaching out, he placed a hand over her heart and opened his mind once more; then he waited.
It didn't take long before the female vampire opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"Prepare to be judged," he said and sent his mind diving into hers.
She screamed, a high pitched, inhuman sound and her hands ripped at his wrist, but it was too late, the connection was made. It was not something he could control. The power inside him was contained or let loose and when it was free it was wild. He never really understood what it did or why he had it; all he could feel was the edges of its actions as it sifted through the vampire under his hand as if she was simply a catalogue of information.
Those who had taken him, turned him into what he was now, said he was the instrument of destiny. They had awakened what was inside of him, shown him how to use it, forced him to as they trained him to be a vampire whore, but they had never explained it. The power inside him was judge, jury and executioner and he could feel the scales dipping badly against Lisa. His vision turned inward and all he could see was blackness and from his hand fire ripped right into the heart of the darkness. Screams filled his mind, but they didn't last long and then reality snapped back in, leaving him gasping and shaking over a pile of ash on the bed.
Mechanically, he stood.
He should have gone to Michael next, Michael was closest, but instead he walked around to Nikolai. The Russian was face down, so John pushed him over onto his back and climbed onto the bed. Nausea tried to drag his attention from his task, but he pushed it away. Stretching out his arm, he placed his hand flat on Nikolai's chest and once again opened his mind. This time it was only a second or so before the vampire opened his eyes.
Almost instantly Nikolai moved, trying to throw him off as if sensing what was to come. John ended up on his side, but it was as if his hand was glued to the vampire's chest. The wind was completely knocked out of him, but the words were just tradition, he didn't need them and he set the beast free. Sometimes when the power ripped from the heart of him he wondered which was more animalistic, the vampires and the way they used humanity, or him and his uncontrollable ability.
Nikolai died just as fast and as easily as Lisa, but it took longer for John to move this time. It could have been fatigue or it could have been reluctance about what he had to do, either way it took him over a minute to convince his body to stand up. Michael was slumped on his side in the middle of the bed towards the end and John slowly made his way around.
"I'm sorry," he said as he pushed the unconscious vampire onto his back.
This time he climbed onto Michael as well, straddling the vampire's hips as he reached out and placed his hand over Michael's heart. For the first time ever he did not want to do it. All the vampires he had ever met had been arrogant, self centred, quite possibly poster boys and girls for sociopath central, but Michael had been different. Vampires used humans, used and abused, that was the way things were and people like him were there to redress the balance. In all the times he had been sent out he had never doubted that truth, that one fact had kept him sane, but now he did.
He had to force his mind to open and then he waited.
Blue green eyes flicked into view after about twenty seconds and looked up at him.
"John?" Michael sounded confused.
He should have just let the power go, but he couldn't.
"I'm sorry," he said for the second time.
Michael did not try and throw him off, the vampire just frowned at him.
"What?"
"I'm a Soul Reader," he said, wanting to rip his hand away, but knowing that it was too late for that.
Surprise and then something else flickered across the vampire's face.
"Not really from the agency then," Michael said with a wilted laugh.
"Poor kid's tied up in an alley," he replied, feeling tears prickling at the back of his eyes.
He had never mourned a vampire, not any of those he had judged. If he had not believed they were the enemy what had been done to him, what he had had to do would had driven him mad.
"Were you really an actor?"
"Yeah and I really was kidnapped. They don't give people like me a choice. I'm a tool of destiny whether I like it or not."
Michael placed a hand over his, but did not try and remove his.
"Sucks to be us," the vampire said and squeezed very gently.
If he could have he would have ripped his hand away then, but it was too late. The power inside of him was lashing against its cage and demanding to be freed.
"I've never been very good at being a vampire," Michael said as if sensing his hesitation, "just do it, it will be better for both of us."
"I don't want to," he replied, taking a deep breath to give himself just a few seconds longer, "but I can't stop it."
Michael smiled at him, honest to god smiled, and it broke his heart. He was the one who wanted to scream as the power ripped out of him and dove straight into the vampire. For the first time since he had been introduced to the world of the undead and those who opposed them a small voice at the back of his mind asked a simple question: is this right?
He tried to pull his mind away; he did not want to see the end of the only vampire to have ever shown him real kindness. He would have liked to pretend that it was all a game, that Michael was just playing with him, but he could see the truth. Michael's soul was right there before him, on display, and when he looked into the darkness it glittered back at him. Fire erupted from his hand just as it always did and Michael screamed like all the others, but it did not streak into the middle of the darkness, burning it away. The fire hit something and split and hit something else and split again and again and again until all John could see was a cobweb of flame.
In a way it was beautiful, but then one of those tendrils came straight back at him. It hit him between his virtual eyes and he felt the heat of it sear through him. Feeling utter shock and a strange sense of relief, he succumbed to its power and everything just went away.
~*~
Waking up was as unpleasant as it was unexpected. There was ash in his nose and throat and the bits of him that weren't numb were screaming at him about abuse. He was in so much discomfort that at first he didn't even register that he was lying on top of another body, a breathing, definitely not rendered to a pile of grey ash, body. As soon as he did notice he sat up way too fast and managed to actually fall off the bed.
Lying on his back on the floor, stunned, he did his very best to remember how to breathe as his whole body scolded him about every aching muscle. He had just managed to gasp in some air and convince his ribs that expanding and contracting regularly was a really good idea when a messy haired head appeared over the edge of the bed. Speaking was beyond him, so he just lay there.
"I'm alive," Michael said and sounded as surprised about it as John had been.
A hum of agreement was as well as he could do in reply to that.
"Did you?"
John shook his head; he'd done nothing different.
"Judged," he kind of wheezed out.
Michael appeared even more surprised.
Soul Readers killed vampires, that's how things went, that's what John had been taught and apparently so had Michael. John knew what he had done, he had felt it, but the end had been so different. Then he let himself consider the whole thing properly for the first time.
"Judged," he said excitedly as he figured out what had actually happened and tried to sit up again.
Everything hurt, so he collapsed back to the floor once more.
"Are you okay?" Michael asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
It made him laugh, because about then Michael should probably have been trying to kill him or something.
"Soul Reader," he said as his mind buzzed with ideas.
"I got that part," Michael replied, frowning down at him; "did you hit your head?"
John shook his head at him again.
"I judged you," he said and grinned, proud of himself for getting out a whole sentence.
Michael looked as if he thought John had lost his mind.
"I judged you," John insisted, pushing himself into a half sitting position more slowly.
Michael still wasn't getting it.
"You have been judged," he said, moving so that he was face to face with Michael, "you are still alive."
That was the point when Michael caught up, eyes going round and shocked.
"You mean ... but ..? I'm a vampire."
John laughed.
"You did say you weren't a very good vampire."
"But ..."
"Live with it, prince of darkness you definitely are not. Have you ever killed someone, drained them to the very last drop?"
Michael frowned at him.
"No," Michael replied, "I wasn't aware it was a requirement."
"Lisa had, so had Nikolai," he revealed, as usual, not sure how he knew, but knowing nevertheless.
"But that's against vampire law," Michael said, "makes us too easy to spot. That's why we have agencies to supply willing donors."
"Doesn't stop most vampires from wanting to do it though," he said, noticing just what a beautiful colour Michael's eyes were in the dawn light coming through the window. "Doesn't stop most of them doing it if they think they can get away with it either."
John found himself more than a little excited; Michael was unprecedented.
"Why did you become a vampire?" he asked as the thought occurred to him.
"Lung cancer," was the direct response; "smoked too much. Lisa said she liked my writing and offered to turn me. Ironic I couldn't write for shit for about twenty years after that."
John was going to comment, but then his brain caught up with his previous observation.
"Oh shit, dawn," he said, turning to look at the windows, "they'll be coming."
He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring any complaints his body made.
"We have to get you out of here," he said, grabbing Michael's arm.
"What are you talking about?" Michael asked, resisting his pull without any effort at all.
Humans against vampires stood no chance one on one, that was what made John's power quite so useful.
"The ones who trained me, who send me out to kill your kind, they'll be coming," he said, praying that Michael would listen to him. "They clean up, make it look like the vampires just left. If they find you alive they'll ... shit, I don't know what they'll do, but they'll probably try and kill you."
Michael's eyes glowed at those words and a small growl escaped the vampire's mouth.
"They wouldn't have much luck."
John tried pulling again.
"Look," he said, not above begging with his eyes, "they'll come and then they'll leave. They won't look back. You could hide somewhere and return when they're gone. I won't tell them about you."
At that Michael finally moved, standing up in one fluid motion that John totally envied. The problem was when he went to drag Michael out of the bedroom he found himself held by very strong arms instead.
"Michael," he said, not understanding.
"What about you?"
The question caught him completely off guard, just like most of Michael's questions seemed to do.
"What do you mean?" he replied. "I'll go with them, what else can I do?"
"You could ..."
The doorbell rang downstairs before Michael could finish.
"Hide," John said and pushed out of Michael's arms, "I'll deal with them."
The vampire let him go and he left via the bathroom, picking up his trousers on the way. He was only half dressed when he opened the front door, but it wasn't as if those on the other side didn't know what he did.
"McElroy, you didn't call in," was the cold greeting.
"I passed out, Preston," he replied, letting them in, "only just woke up. You didn't tell me two of them were old ones."
"Would it have made any difference?" the woman said, stepping past him.
He did not bother with a reply.
"Bedroom, door at the end of the hall on the right," was what he chose to say instead. "I need to get my stuff from the bathroom."
Trying to act as if everything was completely normal, he followed Preston up the staircase, praying that Michael had found somewhere to conceal himself. He really had no idea what would happen if the team of five found a living, breathing vampire during their clean up; there was no protocol for it. Soul Readers did not leave their job half done, not unless they had been converted to the other side.
His plan was to retrieve the rest of his clothes and his bag from the bathroom and wait downstairs like he was supposed to. Unfortunately his traitorous mind had other ideas and he couldn't make himself do it, so he followed Preston into the bedroom and he froze. Michael was sitting on the end of the bed and the only concession the vampire had made was putting on some underwear.
"Get out of my house," Michael said, eyes glowing with blue green fire and fangs just visible as he curled his lip.
John found himself shoved sideways and forward as the rest of the team piled into the room. He was still uncoordinated enough that he fell over his own feet and ended up on his knees and when he looked back two of the team were holding crossbows.
"You really think those will stop me?" Michael asked, apparently unimpressed by the display.
"We'll see," Preston said and produced a weapon of her own.
It looked like a gun, but John doubted it was filled with normal bullets. He had no idea what normal humans used against vampires, he was a weapon all by himself and he felt irrationally protective of Michael.
"Leave him alone," he said, pushing himself to his feet.
"Shut up and you might live," Preston all but snarled back at him.
The woman clearly thought he had deliberately betrayed them. It made him laugh, because even in his mixed up life the whole situation was crazy. As Preston lifted her gun he felt the power inside of him shift and twist, rising to the surface.
"I said, leave him alone."
The words came from his mouth, but it barely sounded like his voice. There was almost an echo as he spoke and when he raised his hand there was a flame encasing his fingers.
"Holy shit," one of Preston's team said.
"McElroy, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Preston demanded and she seemed to think she was still in control.
"I judged him," he said, feeling strangely remote, as if he wasn't quite in control, "you will leave him alone."
"That's impossible," Preston replied instantly.
"He survived, will you?"
John hadn't felt quite so free in a long time. Ever since he had been shown his power he had been pointed at targets and sent to kill like a good attack dog. The power inside him had been a caged animal let out to play at his masters' whims. It was liberating to make his own choice.
"Leave," he said, voice still tinged with the same power.
"You're not fully turned," Preston said, voice softening to something cajoling, "we can bring you back."
It was the obvious conclusion, only Soul Readers who had been corrupted failed in their missions.
"I'm not turned at all," he replied, holding his hand out towards her; "I judged Michael and he survived. The judgement is final, now leave."
"But he's a vampire."
That was from one of Preston's underlings.
There was logic and then there was reality, at the moment they did not coincide and so John decided to prove it. He held out his hand towards Michael and allowed his power free. Flame flew across the room, hitting Michael in the centre of the chest and then dancing across the pale skin there as if it was all an illusion. At first Michael appeared astonished and then the vampire smiled, a wide, fangy smile.
"That tickles," Michael said as the flames dissipated.
"How is that possible?" Preston sounded as if the roots of her world view had just been shaken. John might have sympathised if he hadn't been feeling quite so protective.
"It just is," he said and finally lowered his hand.
He really didn't understand it himself, but there was no way in hell he was letting anyone hurt Michael. Preston didn't seem to know what to do. For a while the woman stood there poised until she finally lowered her weapon.
"Guess you're a lucky son of a bitch," the woman said, looking at Michael, and flicked her head at her subordinates, who immediately began to back out of the room.
"Luckier than the bitch in question," Michael replied still in full vampire mode as he nodded at the ash on the bed,.
"McElroy, get your stuff, we're leaving," Preston said and half turned her attention to him again.
"I'm not going with you."
It was somewhat odd to realise he had made a decision as he voiced it, because John had not actually thought that far yet.
"Don't be ridiculous," Preston said, "now stop being melodramatic and pick up your things."
"I'm not going with you," he repeated.
Each time he said it he believed it more and it felt right. Suddenly he was looking down the barrel of a gun. Before he could follow what was happening there was a growl from Michael and a blur passed in front of him as the vampire plucked the gun out of Preston's hand.
"Don't even think it," Michael snarled, standing between John and the woman.
"You have corrupted him," Preston accused, glaring at Michael even as she backed away.
"No," Michael replied, "you did that when you turned him into an assassin. What you don't seem to get is John is a Soul Reader, not a vampire killer, and because you sent him here he's just figured that out."
"You're a tool of destiny," Preston appealed to John past Michael's shoulder.
"Then destiny should make sure I'm in the right place when necessary, shouldn't it," he replied.
Michael's existence opened up a huge number of possibilities. John had been taught vampires were inherently evil and until Michael he had seen no evidence to the contrary, but Michael changed everything.
"Leave," Michael said, emptying the clip from the gun and then handing it back to Preston.
The woman really didn't have much choice and with a last look at John she walked out of the room. Michael stood by the door and watched the clean up team leave while John stood there and let his mind reel at what he was thinking.
"You look like you need to sit down," Michael said after the front door banged shut.
John shook his head, the last thing he needed to do was get comfortable. Michael might have been extraordinary and have shattered some of his long held beliefs, but that didn't change the fact that he was still in the house of a vampire.
"Once I'm sure they're gone I'll get out of your hair," he said.
"Where will you go? What are you going to do?" Michael asked.
All John could do was shrug.
"I don't know," he admitted, "I don't even have an identity. I've been living in safe houses. All I have is what's in my bag."
"What would you have done if this had been a normal assignment?" Michael asked in a ridiculously understanding tone.
"Gone back to the safe house, eaten a huge meal, slept the day away," he replied, pretty sure it was a bad idea to share the information with a vampire, but not really being able to stop himself, "then on to another safe house, another city until they pointed me at another target."
"Come on then," Michael said, taking him gently by the arm.
John was confused.
"What?" he asked.
"There is a kitchen full of food downstairs," Michael told him and guided him out of the room; "I've been experimenting with omelettes recently, but there's bacon and toast and sausages as well if you'd prefer."
He came to a stop in surprise and glanced back into the bedroom.
"But I killed the other two members of your triad," he said, totally not getting why Michael wasn't just throwing him out the door.
Michael gently encouraged him to start walking again.
"We weren't a triad," Michael told him. "Lisa and Nikolai were the couple, they just kept me around as the occasional fuck toy and some alternative entertainment. I've just kind of been going with the flow for forty years. Lisa was only letting me put on the play because it amused her to see me so excited about something. You did me a favour."
There wasn't a lot John could say to that, so he let himself be led to the kitchen without complaint. There Michael sat him down at the breakfast bar and then started pottering about making things. Given the fact that John's metabolism was in overdrive trying to replace all the blood he had donated, when food was put in front of him he just ate.
Michael made small talk as they consumed breakfast and it was so normal that John had trouble remembering that the other man was a vampire. Of course he knew vampire's ate, blood maintained them, but looking like a walking corpse because they were starved was a possibility for a vampire as well as a human. John had just never expected one to cook him breakfast.
"Stay here," Michael said as John was finishing up and made him almost choke on his last bite of toast.
"What?" he asked.
"Stay here, with me," Michael said and appeared so intensely hopeful that John didn't know what to say.
A vampire and a Soul Reader living together; it would be beautifully ironic, but it would also be totally insane. Much like most of the morning so far.
"You need a place to stay and I hate being alone," Michael continued when he didn't respond immediately, "and I don't think I'm on my own in thinking there is a certain chemistry between us."
There was no denying that.
"You need blood, I need to be bitten," John pointed out the other obvious advantage.
"Win/win?" Michael asked with a tentative smile. "I promise I'm trying not to be too nocturnal because of the play and I only get really cranky if I'm exposed to sunlight for over an hour."
John would have liked to agree, even if half his brain was asking him if he was mad, but there were other things to consider.
"What about your vampire friends," he asked, "if they find out what I am they will kill me and probably you as well."
"None of them would dare try," was the surprising response. "The only advantage of having Lisa as my sire is her bloodline; it's incredibly powerful. I may not be a very good vampire, but most of the underworld here would be idiots to look at me funny let alone challenge me."
John tried not to be impressed, but he couldn't help himself. He had been educated in vampire politics for his role, but Michael was just so different.
"Think about it," Michael said, smiling at him, "I'll get you some more tea."
John had no doubt that he had two choices, take up Michael on his offer or run very far from London, possibly the whole of Europe. Soul Readers were rare, there was no way the organisation would just let him go, so he had to hide or remain in full view, but be protected. His power definitely liked Michael and he seemed to have more control of it because of the vampire, but the whole idea still seemed completely mental.
Ever since he had been kidnapped from his home his world had felt slightly unreal, but this was taking it that one step further. Vampires were evil incarnate, he had been taught it and shown it, only not if there were any more like Michael. As he thought about it he realised logic was not going to help him; this was not about logic, this was about what he felt in his heart.
"Okay," he said as Michael handed him a fresh mug of tea, "thank you,"
Michael beamed at him.
"But what could I do here?" At least he had a purpose with the organisation. They had taken away his life, but they had given him a new one and he was the type of person who needed that.
"Would you like a part in my play?" Michael asked with a grin. "I can honestly say your audition was spectacular."
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