This week's prompt is, "All right, all right, you can come over . . . but only if you promise to behave."
Thanks to Her Awesomeness Reese Dante for our Silver badge.
I call this one . . .
The burned out house behind Marek was all sharp angles and deep shadows.
All right, all right, you can come over . . . but only if you promise to behave.
Marek had promised. But he had not behaved. He had been brutal.
Tonight, hoping for a fight before he brought down his prey, he prowled dark alleys where only the lowest mortals lingered. The moonlight felt wrong. The mild air rubbed his skin raw. He swept a savage kick through a pile of fallen bricks. Clouds of shattered stone rose up to the night sky.
A low voice said behind him, “You should go easier on your boots.”
Marek spun around. Arms straight out, fangs bared, fingers clenched into deadly claws, he charged down the narrow alley, bearing down on the intruder, aching to rip and tear and feed.
“Yeah. Come on.” The voice was slow, fearless. “Bite me again. You left in a hurry last night.”
Brody. It was Brody. Marek skidded to a stop so quickly, his feet scraped a trail of grey dirt and white pebbles. Death’s heart, he’d almost ripped out his lover’s throat. No. After what he’d done, Brody was his ex-lover. “What are you doing here?”
“Your coffin was empty,” Brody said. A crooked smile lit his face.
Marek had seen himself through the eyes of mortals. When he stalked them, they saw the muscled body of a warrior bred to kill, well over six feet tall, black hair streaming around a hard face, red eyes rimmed with blood. Tonight, Brody had seen him at his worst, but still he reached for Marek’s cold hand.
“This is my hunting ground.” Marek couldn’t bring himself to pull away from Brody’s warm touch. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Walk with me,” Brody said. “Keep me safe.”
“After our first night in your bed,” Marek said, his voice low and hesitant, as he’d never heard it, “you believe I’m the one to walk you to safety?”
Marek looked down at Brody. The stars overhead twinkled in his grey-green eyes, tiny lights of amusement. “You play with your life, little mortal.”
“Don’t threaten me, vampire,” Brody said. “I know where you keep your coffin.”
Marek ran his fingers through Brody’s light brown hair, and pulled him even closer. “And you know where I keep my heart.”
“Is that what you call it?” Brody moved his hand between Marek’s legs. “It’s swollen and hard, just the way I like it.”
His eyes on the twin marks in Brody’s neck, Marek untangled himself. “Don’t,” he said. “I hurt you.”
“I let you.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Marek said, turning his back.
Brody tugged viciously on Marek’s wrist, igniting his warrior urge to finish what he'd started last night and mark Brody as his own. “You should go,” Marek said thickly, “or I may break my promise to you. Again.”
"I make my own decisions," Brody said. “I might be only twenty three, and you might be five hundred but - -”
“Four hundred and eighty seven,” Marek said, turning, touching Brody’s soft lips. “But until this night, I’ve never lived.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
Kissing down the side of Brody’s neck, licking at the wounds he’d left, Marek murmured, “Apologies, my little heart. Speak.”
“Break your promise again,” Brody said, his eyes half closed, his arms around Marek’s neck. “Take me home and break it every way you know how.”
Marek scooped Brody into his strong arms and ran through deserted city streets, streaking through darkness, holding the only being he’d ever loved as he would have held the finest, purest crystal.
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