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The Infatuation of Freedom

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One of the greatest hazards of being immortal was simply boredom. It's how I ended up with Star. I hadn't particularly wanted to turn her, when we'd found her huddled under the boardwalk like the perfect midnight snack. But Paul had insisted she'd look good, that we needed a girl to keep up with the Surf Dogs. Like a fashion accessory. I didn't particularly care about that either, but my boys did, and I was inclined to indulge them. It did make things more interesting, and we hadn't had a new member since Marko in the sixties.

So I turned her, took her back to the cave, all starry eyed and lusting after me, after all of us, and offered her a drink from the bottle with Max's blood. She'd wanted it then, this life that we lead, even though she sensed the darkness. I wouldn't have wasted it on her otherwise. For a few weeks she was happy, and went to bed with all of them, one at a time or sometimes in threesomes, though she made no qualms about her desire for me. Star's realization of what she needed to do to stay with us came almost hand in hand with the realization that I didn't want to sleep with her. After that she was just a waste of time. Usually they just did away with themselves, the children who decided they didn't want this life. I fully expected her to. But Dwayne had brought back Laddie, tiny and feverish and dying, nursing him back with the gift of the blood. Having a child with us seemed to awaken some kind of strange maternal instinct in her that made her stick around.

Star was annoying, but not boring, and argumentatively she did look very good on the back of my bike.

I wasn't sure of the exact point when I became aware of Star's intentions. What she was trying to do, to me and to Michael. It was my folly and my greatest weakness that I was very single minded, especially when it came to a situation like Michael. I was so focused on him, so entranced by his beauty and spirit and brash courage that I could hardly see anything else around me. At times it even overtook the desire for blood, my single minded pursuit of Michael. I would have realized Star's full intentions immediately when she volunteered herself as bait, if I hadn't been so taken by Michael myself. But it still planted a seed of suspicion in the back of my mind, and when she tried to protect him on the cliff, her true intentions became completely clear.

I couldn't stand for it. I didn't allow it.

I sent Michael on ahead to our lair with Paul, Dwayne and Laddie, and Marko off for food. And Star... Star I kept back with myself, standing at the edge of the bluff overlooking the point, our forms cast in strange combinations of contrast and shadow by the headlight on my bike. I stepped closer to her, slowly, exuding every bit of the power I'd accumulated through my years in this form. I wouldn't let her underestimate my power and strength. This was my town, my family, and my Michael.

"I want you to be very clear about something, Star," I said, keeping my voice low and calm and still seeing a shiver of fear run through her. "You are not a princess, I am not a dragon, and Michael is not a prince that's come to rescue you. You came to this of your own free will, and nothing that you can do to me or to the boys will make you human again."

She shuddered, wrapping her arms tight around her as the sea breeze cut through her thin jacket. "You're wrong. I know what you are, and I know that if I destroy you I'll be human again."

I didn't stop to wonder if she'd revealed her plan to me out of sheer stupidity or because she had no hope of completing it. "And that is where you are wrong. It isn't my blood that runs in your veins -- or any of the boys, for that matter. Your target is our mutual sire, and even if I could, I would have no desire to tell you where to find him." I stepped back, and lit a cigarette. "If you want to try your luck at killing him, then be my guest. But from this moment on, you are on your own."

Star went even paler than before, staring at me. "What do you mean?"

"To put it nicely, you are no longer welcome in Santa Carla." I took a long drag, trying to resist the urge to smirk at her panic, and exhaled into the night air. "To put it bluntly, if I sense you within three hundred miles of here tomorrow at sunset, I will find you, and I will kill you." I held my cigarette between my lips, pulling a handful of stolen bills from my pocket. "I recommend that you get on a bus, find a big city, and make a living killing rich businessmen. Or just fall on a piece of sharp wood. Your choice." I shoved the bills in the front of her top when she didn't move to take them, flicking my cigarette over the edge of the cliff and turning back to my bike.

"David, don't do this. David, I -- I'm not leaving, I -- "

I moved back to her so swiftly that she didn't even have time to blink, letting the Hunter inside me free and catching her by the throat, squeezing just enough to let my claws prick through tender skin. "I'm not joking around, Star. Michael is mine, and if I sense you anywhere near Santa Carla ever again, I will kill you." It took every inch of restraint not to just throw her over the cliff - or better yet, tear her pretty throat out. But even in my vampiric form, killing my own kind left a bad taste in my mouth that I preferred to avoid. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes," she gasped, staggering back a few steps when I released her, though sadly not over the edge of the cliff. I turned without giving her another moment of my attention, hopping back on my bike and heading back towards home where the others were waiting. Where Michael was waiting.

We spent a few hours in the cave, eating, talking, smoking, getting high off of California's finest chronic. The more Michael stayed with us, the more enthralled he became with everything, with us, our way of life. With me. Michael passed all of my tests -- including being fairly unconcerned about Star's absence, I noted with approval. It wasn't how I normally did things, of course. I was sure my actions had confused my boys, though they didn't question me. By now, any other guest would be dead or immortal. But I'd come to realize, in those few hours, that Michael was different, somehow more complicated than the rest of my boys. It wouldn't do to pull him in blindly and still expect him to trust me; it wouldn't work. I would need a more subtle, delicate touch to reel him in. And that... that kind of challenge was right up my alley.

I caught up a spare flashlight, though more for Michael's convenience than mine -- I could see well enough in the dark. Then I led him away from the others, through the cracks and crevices in the earth that had swallowed up the old hotel. "How do you like it here, Michael?"

"Hmm?" He was relaxed, almost languid from the drug, which was my favourite thing about it. It pushed away so many human trivialities and let one lower one's inhibitions. "Still can't believe you all live down here and no one cares."

"There is a measure of freedom to be had in claiming a space that is unwanted," I replied, hopping easily over a small chasm in the cave floor, then squeezing through a narrow gap to reach my goal, clicking off the light. He appeared a moment later, staring out at the moonlight reflecting on the ocean.

"It's beautiful here."

I smiled, starting down the rocks slowly to make sure he could follow me safely in the moonlight. "It is, isn't it? Most of this area is underwater when the tide is high, but there's no one here now." I skirted a tide pool where I could see a small octopus sleeping, safe from predators until the tide came in. I perched on rock nearby, worn smooth by centuries of crashing waves, pulling my silver cigarette case from the inside of my jacket and lighting another joint, taking a slow hit before offering it to Michael. He perched a little behind me and took it wordlessly, looking past me to the ocean, though more often than not his eyes lingered on me.

"Do you like it here?" I asked softly. "You're welcome to stay. I know you're looking for more out of life than what you have now."

He gave a soft, soundless laugh, handing the joint back to me. "And that more is here? What would I do five, ten years from now? Can't stay young forever, David."

"No?" I turned, shifting closer to him, knee against his thigh. "In ten years, we'll still be here, Michael. In twenty years, fifty years. We'll be here as long as we want, because we have freedom, Michael. The kind of freedom you dream of, but think that you can't have."

He gazed at me for a moment, then shook his head. "Everyone grows up sometime."

"Everyone but us." I drew from the joint, then beckoned him forward, sealing my lips over his as I exhaled. His lips parted, and after a moment of confusion, he inhaled. As I drew back there was no sign of anger or hatred, just a kind of disorientation, and the same interest I'd seen in him throughout the night - on the boardwalk, in the cave.

"What was that?" he said finally, as if suddenly realizing that he should remark on what I'd done.

I chuckled softly, not answering other than to take another hit, and beckon him forward with one gloved finger. Michael hesitated, but only for a moment, then leaned in to let his lips press to mine ever so slightly, parting to inhale the drug as I passed it to him. I let my lips linger on his for a moment afterwards, indulging for just a moment longer, but pulled back with a smile, knowing that if I worked things right, I'd have a lot more than a half stolen kiss. "There are things you need to know, Michael. I'll show you, if you want me to. If you trust me. And if you do, then everything you want can be yours." I let my voice lower and watched him shiver at my words. "And I mean everything."

"Show me," he murmured, and I smiled, taking his hand from the rock between us and holding it up in the moonlight. I pushed back the sleeve of his leather jacket and ran a gloved fingertip slowly up and down the inside of his wrist.

"I won't hurt you, Michael," I told him, watching him as I spoke. "Do you trust me?"

He gave a slow nod, but flinched when I pulled my switchblade from pocket the pocket of my jeans, flicking it open and pressing the point against his skin. He tried to yank his arm back in panic. "David!"

"Do you trust me?" I said again, holding his gaze, and after an uncertain moment he relaxed again, and gave a little nod.

"Good." I let the knife slice into his skin, blood welling from the cut looking almost black in the moonlight. I replaced the blade immediately with my mouth, groaning against his skin at the rush that came with the first taste of his blood, hot and bright intense. I didn't let the Hunter loose, the beast inside of me that wanted blood only to cause pain and death. This was far more personal. This was the final piece of my bait: to show him just exactly what I was, what he could have if he submitted to me. The freedom to live and act as he chose, without barriers. The freedom to act on the feelings I knew he kept prisoner as he tried to be what the world expected him to be. I knew he would feel this as intensely as I did, the pleasure of my feeding. It was heady and primal, an intimacy and passion that connected us, stimulating every nerve, every fibre of our beings.

His heartbeat was strong and hot in my ears, pounding faster as I continued to take from him. His fingers tightened in my hair, and I heard a little helpless groan as he somehow curled closer to me. "Ohh, David...."

He was beautiful, rich and delicious, but I forced myself to stop before I'd taken too much from him. I used a touch of my blood to heal the wound I'd inflicted, then pulled back. What I didn't expect was for his hands to catch the lapels of my jacket, for him to yank me to him, catching my mouth with his for a kiss - a real kiss, hot and hungry and yearning.

"This is freedom," I whispered, slipping my hands up to tangle in his hair. I returned his kiss without hesitation, loving the desire I'd awakened in him, elated that my gamble had paid off. I'd banked on it, the passion that I could see in him, the passion that I wanted so badly to claim as my own. "Are you willing do to what it takes to have this freedom?"

Michael nodded, and reached for me again, his actions giving his answer far louder than words ever could. "Whatever you want, David," he murmured, and I nipped playfully at his bottom lip, rubbing a gloved hand up and down his thigh. He was nearly trembling against me, and I knew the thrall of feeding still held him, as much as his blood still rushed through me. He pulled me back down onto the rock, half on top of him, arching up against me almost desperately. His kisses were deep and a little frantic as his hands tugged almost clumsily at my jacket and shirt, until I caught them and pinned them above his head, one hand tight around his wrists. I let my other hand rove down his body, stroke and tease him through his clothes, and he didn't move to try and escape my grasp. Instead he arched up into my touch, claiming my mouth with trembling kisses, groaning as I let my fingers cup his erection through his jeans. It made him writhe in pleasure under me, hips bucking up against my hand, against my own arousal, breath in little whimpers. "David..."

"Shh," I whispered, and pulled back just a little to look at him, catching one finger of my glove in my teeth and pulling it off, tucking it away. Then I pulled open his jeans and slipped my hand into his boxers, smiling as his eyes fell closed with a low groan. "You're beautiful, Michael," I murmured, curling my fingers around him and stroking him slowly. My eyes narrowed appreciatively as I watched his hips arch up into my touch. I could do anything I wanted to him in that moment, I knew, with his mind caught in the intoxication of the feeding, our connection arousing his body and enslaving his mind. But I wanted Michael -- all of him, willingly. I needed to know that he was strong enough to chose this, to take this gift on his own.

I leaned close to trail kisses along his jaw, to nip at his earlobe. "Do you want this, Michael? I would have you by my side forever, if you want it. If you're strong enough to accept everything I have to give to you."

"You... you drank my blood," he whispered, and I smiled, kissing the soft spot just behind his ear and breathing in deeply of his sent. He was afraid, unsure, but his strength, his spirit and resolve was so much stronger.

"Yes," I murmured. "That's what I am. That is the gift I can give you."

"A murderer?" he gasped, yanking away from the caress of my mouth as the situation became more clear to him. I raised my head to meet his angry gaze with my own, my fingers stilling on his cock.

"I do what I need to, to survive," I said. "It is the price I pay for this. If it is not to your liking... you're free to go back to your normal life." I pulled away then, releasing his wrists and standing, straightening my clothes.

He sat up sharply. "Where are you going?"

"Inside," I replied with a little smirk. "Follow me, if you want me. Come with me and I'll give you everything. If you don't want that, well. I'm sure you can find your way back to the main cave and out to your bike." I turned without waiting for a reply, starting back towards the crack in the rock we'd come from, flicking on the flashlight again as I did so. I heard his footsteps behind me and smiled, but didn't acknowledge his presence as I made my way back through the cave. It was a little harder going, my new destination, and finally I was forced to stop at the edge of a chasm, turning back to him.

"This is your choice, Michael?"

He raised his chin slightly, and wet his lips. "Yes."

I glanced down to where more rubble from the hotel was visible, twenty feet down at the bottom of the chasm. My personal favourite spot, lush with the remains of an old state bedroom. "All right. Jump."


"I won't let you fall, Michael. I told you I wouldn't hurt you."


I met his gaze and quirked an eyebrow. "If you want to prove yourself, you must trust me." Then, without waiting, I turned, dropping lightly to the bottom, my coat swirling around me as I slowed my fall and touched down lightly at the bottom.

He waited at the top, glancing back over his shoulder for a moment, then down to me again. "All right," he said softly, and dropped.

I rose to catch him half way, laughing softly at his soft gasp of surprise as he found himself in my arms. But he was kissing me again before we'd reached the ground, just as demanding as he'd been outside. When I set us down beside the bed and released him, he took hold of my coat immediately, pushing it off my shoulders and tossing it on the end of the bed before tugging my t-shirt from my jeans, hands stroking over my skin. "You're supposed to be cold...."

"You make me warm," I hissed, shivering under his touch despite myself. I pulled his own jacket off, tearing the neckline of his shirt as I pulled it over his head, and buried my face in his neck, kissing hungrily along well-muscled shoulders.

"I want..." he whispered, and shivered, fingers slipping down my back to clench at my ass, bold and demanding. "I want what you did to me outside. I want to feel that again."

I pulled back to look at him with narrowed eyes, then pulled my shirt off over my head. I grabbed my switchblade from the pocket of my jeans and moved to settle at the head of the bed, leaning back against dusty velvet pillows. "If you want that, you have to take it from me this time. No more playing."

He watched me move, then gave a slow nod, crawling up to me and taking the blade from me. "Your wrist...?"

I shook my head and tilted my head back. "Here."

Michael lowered his head to press his lips to my throat, his breath a warm sigh against my skin that made me shiver. "I'll hurt you."

"Not as long as you don't change your mind," I murmured, my breath catching as he nipped lightly at my skin, almost experimentally. Then he flicked open the blade, and without hesitation sliced into my skin.

I drew a sharp breath at the sting of the blade, but the feel of his lips on my skin took it away. He was hesitant at first, just a swipe of his tongue, then sealed his mouth on my skin with a low groan, dropping the switchblade to one side. The rush of sensation was more intense than it had been before, hot and bright and intoxicating. It had been a long time, a very long time since I'd let anyone taste my blood, and even longer since anyone had fed directly from me. It sent a very human shudder of arousal straight to my cock, and before I knew it I was pulling at his remaining clothes, yanking his jeans open to touch him.

When Michael pulled from my skin I barely had enough sense about me to heal myself, pulling him to me and accepting his kisses with a shuddering groan. I could taste my own blood on his lips, a realization that sent a surge of desire mixed with pride through me. He'd chosen this, he'd taken it from me. His hands were just as demanding as mine, and before long we were naked together, limbs tangled and hips arching, lost in the intoxication of blood and desire.

"Fuck me," I growled, grinding my hips against his cock, and I felt the surge of desire that my words drove through him as vividly as I could feel his lips on my skin, his hands on my hips.

"Show me," he breathed, and I forced myself to pull away long enough to grab for the small bottle in the half broken drawer beside the bed. The liquid was slick on my fingers, a little cool against the heat of his skin as I stroked it over his erection, and he gave a sharp hiss, rocking up into my fingers. "Oh fuck, David...."

"Exactly," I replied with a low chuckle, catching his mouth again and drawing him down on top of me. He took the hint when I wrapped my legs around his waist, my heels digging into the small of his back, and slipped one arm under my hips to pulled me higher. I used a touch of power to push away gravity's hold on me just a little, arching up to him as he started to rock into me, drawing a sharp gasp against my mouth. It was exactly what I craved, the burn of pleasure-pain as my body adjusted to him, my muscles shuddering as I stretched around his girth. I'd half expected a frantic teenaged fumble, but he was surprisingly careful, as if almost overwhelmed by it all as he thrust slowly deeper.

"More," I breathed, nipping at his bottom lip as I arched up against him, heels pressing hard into the small of his back to urge him on. It had been longer than I would ever admit, since I'd had the pleasure of being in this position - my boys needed a leader that ruled them in the most basic, primal ways. But Michael was sophisticated enough to understand this, and I knew that having him dominate me would only tie him more strongly to me. I craved this, to have someone else in control if only for a short time, to have someone claim me and use me and take their pleasure of me. Michael's strength and wildness had enthralled me, and the feel of his cock hard and thick inside me, stretching me, filling me, was perfection. "Come on, Michael. Show me what you're made of."

His eyes narrowed slightly, dark and wild from the swoon of my blood, and he gave a sharp thrust and a cry of pleasure that echoed mine. The surge of sensation was addicting, made more vivid, more intoxicating from the thrill of his blood that still surged through me, and my blood in him.

"David...!" his voice was almost helpless as he set a hard rhythm, head falling to the pillow beside me, his mouth hot on my skin as he nipped at my shoulder. "How... god, you... so good!"

"Don't think. Don't stop," I hissed, feeling almost drunk on the stimulation of having him inside me, my cock trapped between us, rubbing against the firm warmth of his stomach as he took me. I arched up more and cried out as our bodies connected just right, the head of his cock hitting against a point inside me, white hot and sensitive, that sent a burst of pleasure through me. "Fuck -- !"

My reaction seemed to break the last thread of his self-control, and he cried out against my skin, bucking into me hard and fast and wild. It was exactly what I needed, to feel his passion and strength and determination. I couldn't even find the words to encourage him, couldn't do more than claw at his shoulders and back as he drove into me again and again, pleasure building, surging, quickly drawing me to climax.

"Come on," I managed to growl, and felt him bite hard at the crook of my neck. Though it wasn't enough to break skin, the sharp surge of pain was the last straw. I bucked up against him as the flood sensation rushed through me, crying out without restraint as I clenched around him, nerves singing from the bliss of orgasm. I heard him give a choked cry against my skin, shuddering against me and flooding warm inside me, entirely lost to pleasure and the dark gift of my blood. Lost to everything but me.

Perhaps in the light of day, and faced with the reality of killing his former kind, he would balk. But I knew I could draw him through it, guide him, mould him into the perfect companion. I would finally have someone to stand at my side, to share this bright eternity with. Michael was mine.


Hope you enjoy this treat! It wasn't meant to be quite so complex, but David very firmly insisted on sex and wouldn't do anything else until I accommodated him. -_-; Goddamn vampire.

Special thanks to the lovely Elfwreck for beta-ing my messy smut. :D