Lathe didn't ask what. If Cory didn't have the energy or the strength to kill him where he stood, Lathe would have found the look of strain on Cory's face to be almost comical. But there was absolutely nothing funny about it now. “Oh, yes. I remember. I believe this body is hungry."
"I'll fetch you something,” Lathe said and moved to stand.
"No,” Cory said simply. “It wants to feed from you."
"But I'm—” Lathe began, and then silenced. He was still full from the man Brutus had herded toward him. There was so much blood in a human if you took it all at once; it was a much more efficient use of his time rather than the sippy-cup method that most of the modern vampires had taken. He was bursting with blood; he felt that now, and it would be amazingly stupid if he did anything rash. “I'm here for you."
"Of course you are,” Cory said, lips twisting. “Your kind always is. Manipulate my penis while I drink."
"It's called jerking off,” Lathe said.
"I don't care what it's called. I just want it done right.” Cory moved to him, pulled him to his feet, and dragged him, ankles on the ground, back to the wall. “This body remembers where to bite,” he continued. “It's like your skin sings to be punctured. Put your hand on my penis."
It had been centuries since Lathe had been submissive to another vampire. He told himself he didn't recall how it was done, but up against the wall his body remembered. Submissive was not what or who he was, but under someone much stronger his body couldn't help but respond as such. He licked his palm, which obviously confused Cory slightly, and then he wrapped his fingers around Cory's cock.
"Much better,” Cory announced. He tried an experimental thrust, but obviously didn't care for it. “You do it."
Lathe did. Cory's cock was leaking enough precum that he was able to gather it up and use it. Even with it, though, it was drier than Lathe personally liked it. But it wasn't his call. He kept his hand loose, despite enjoying the way Cory's cock felt. When Cory bit him, teeth deep into his neck, that at least was familiar.
"Do it,” Lathe whispered. There was something primal in the blood taking and giving, something better than the taste of blood. Lathe closed his eyes, letting Cory just take him. His other hand moved up, taking Cory in both hands, and together they rode it out. Cory drank more and more, pulling enough to narrow Lathe's vision to black bands.
"Consider it done,” Cory said, breaking free. “You're nowhere near as good as he was."
Lathe collapsed to his knees, no longer able to stand, and Cory left him like that. Cory tripped up the stairs, two at a time, and it was all Lathe could do to crawl on his hands and knees up and out. He found an old man sleeping it off in the valley. The drunk tasted like the sewer. Lathe didn't let the human wake up again.
* * * *
Luke remembered sitting down on the couch, but after that was a blur. Someone knocked at the door, and when Luke ignored it, the noise became a pounding.
"Bloody hell,” Luke snarled, getting to his feet. He almost tore the heavy wooden door off its hinges.
It wasn't Cory. Luke didn't expect it to be, and yet still he was disappointed. Lathe stood in front of the glass storm door. Out of habit, Luke flicked on the porch light, but Lathe was alone and ... Luke studied his face. Deflated, Luke supposed, if he had to put a name to it.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. “Where's the pooch?” Luke asked finally.
"Dead,” Lathe said. “As dead as anything could be, made of what Brutus was made of."
"You didn't kill him,” Luke said.
Lathe shook his head. “Not me."
"That thing inside Cory did it,” Luke finished.
A nod. Luke was a little frightened to see actual pain from Lathe. “May I come in?” Lathe asked, after a long pause.
"Not a chance,” Luke said easily.
"Then come out and join me."
"Not a chance of that, either, I'm afraid."
Lathe exhaled sharply. He obviously wasn't accustomed to being denied. Luke took pleasure in it. “Cory took care of himself, didn't he? Your brilliant plan was ruined, and now you're stuck with the consequences."
"But not alone. That thing out there, it fed from me tonight to gather its strength, but it's only a matter of time before it gets hungry again. What do you think is going to happen to this city once people start dropping?"
"Spare me your false concern. I'm sure your heart bleeds as passively as it can for the potential loss of human life."
"If not for the loss of life, then at least for the loss of incognito. Our kind are not the sort to embrace a paranoid night population."
Luke's lip curled at the thought. They were long past the angry villagers and pitchfork stage, but angry mobs of whatever sort always armed themselves.
Not that he was entirely convinced, and Lathe saw it, too. “You have my word. With your assistance I may not have to kill him to get that thing out of him."
"Bullshit,” Luke snarled. “If you could have killed him, you wouldn't have offered him a snack while you jerked him off."
Lathe had the good grace to look embarrassed. “You could smell that?” he asked, touching the barely closed marks at his throat.
Luke nodded.
"I need your help. You need your little bird back, and when we get it out of him, I promise you our paths won't cross again."
That, if for no other reason, was enough for Luke. He rubbed his neck. “What are you suggesting?"
"Join
