"As I told Emil," Michael said cautiously, "Pete's and Josh is his and now all of yours to do with as you desire. The game rules have changed. We have more players. All of you can make Josh and Pete your victims. I could careless how you do it. Get Pete ad Josh drunk on blood mixed with Bella Donna. Get Pete and Josh to see visions on peyote smoke. Destroy them with decadence, favoritism, scorn. and jealousy. Spread your disease. And when they have died to each other. You will abandon Pete's remains for me to take care of."
"And the price the same price you offered Emil," Ovid said relaxing, smiling at Emil's over reaction of a display of embarrassment, "I overheard you little rendezvous with Emil to betray me."
"Yes, the deal is the same. I will give my blood to the coven master. And might I add I'm glad my blood is going into a more intelligent vessel than Emil who had the bad taste to allow us to be overheard. I had no designs on you life Ovid. Once Emil had the blood your fate was up to him and not me," Michael said smoothly, "All and all, Pete is still going to be making decisions on his own. There is nothing wrong with our applying a little persuasion on him is there? And here I thought you realty cared about him otherwise I would have went directly to you."
"Cared about Pete? Lay your suspicions to rest. No, there isn't anything wrong about using our persuasion. After Josh and Pete are broken up you needn't have Emil here carry out my accidental death to free Pete for you, or to have Emil plan my exile with Pete as my partner. What were you planing for me Emil?" Ovid said mockingly.
"I thought of death. After all Ovid with enough of Michael's blood I could set you aflame. Ah, wouldn't Michael like that? Pete, the bereaved widower abandoned by his lover Josh, his true love Ovid dead. Poor Pete so ripe to be consoled. On the other hand, beings we go so far back I did think of throwing you and Pete out of the coven. Two lovers for all eternity. Michael having the consolation of knowing at least Josh lost too. Oh, my beloved Ovid. Think of it. Lena and I would never have seen you again either way," Emil laughed.
"No need go to such extremes." Ovid said greedily taking up Michael's wrist. "After Pete and Josh are broke up, I'll dump Pete and throw him out of our coven. Michael your runaway bitch will be humbled. Tail between his legs." Ovid's head went light. The taste and scent of Michael pressing against his thirsty mouth.
Coldly withdrawing his wrist from Ovid's lips, Michael said, "When Pete is free of Josh only than may you taste my blood Ovid."
"And what if I want to do more Michael? What if I want to touch, fuck, and be tasted myself? What if I want to fuck you Michael?" Ovid said putting his hand to Michael's throat caressing it with his fingers.
"Have a care little boy," Michael growled.
"Deals off," Ovid laughed.
"You imprudent little slut. You push my boundaries too hard," Michael said menacingly.
"Share and share alike," Emil laughed "Ovid lied to you Michael. He didn't overhear our plot against him. I told him what you offered me word for word Do you think I would keep a pretty man like you from my brethren? Keep the opportunity to taste you away from my coven?"
"There isn't any real leader to our coven, "Lena said, putting her fingers to Michael's lips, pushing her forefinger into his mouth, gashing it against his fang, giving Michael a taste of herself, "We told you all Ovid was our leader only so Ovid could impress Pete and his coven. We all intended to enjoy Pete after Ovid had the first pleasure. We want you, Michael. We will deliver Pete to you damaged, destroyed, and heartbroken. By the time we're done with the lovely couple they will be nothing but hurt and humiliation between them. And all we ask Michael is you. For each of us a stunning night of feasting and fucking you. We cannot completely promise Pete will freely turn to you. We can promise we'll do our best to get Pete to turn on Josh and Josh to turn of him."
"We're dangling in front of your dazzled eyes what you desire the most," Emil said quietly.
"And all we ask is only for a little more blood, a little more from you, beautiful Michael," Ovid said.
Grinning wolfishly at him, the three of them circled around Michael.
"You three are welcome to the blood and the blood only,' Michael said coldly, "No mind control is to be used on Josh and Pete. Use their insecurities against them, and their fears. I suspect mind control, and not one drop of my blood will any of you get."
"Agreed.. I hope it is I who will be the first to enjoy Josh's favors," Lena smirked.
"That will destroy Pete," Ovid approved. "Get Josh drunk on our night walker blood mixed with whiskey and cocaine. Emil get Josh to believe Pete is sleeping with me," Ovid said, "I will make sure he suspects Pete."
"Lena and I would have better luck at seducing Josh in a twosome. We'll make sure to set the ground work of making him insecure about Pete. Subtle insults, hints, put downs. Then Lena and I will fake sympathy for poor Josh. Pete is too mild, too passive to protect Josh.
Ovid said with a hint of regret in his voice, "Their pride will keep them from going to their protectors."
Ovid put his arm around Michael. The beat of Michael's cold heart rich with fist brood blood and his own powerful blood tantalizing away any guilt he was feeling. Licking Michael's neck, Ovid whispered, "Victim of ours your desires and our desires will be met."
"Do not try to tempt anyone in our coven again by going behind our backs," Lena hissed, taking a knife from her pocket and slicing her wrist. Emil and Ovid did the same with their wrists. Smearing their blood together on a napkin. Lena then gave the napkin to Michael.
Solemnly cutting his wrist, Michael's blood joined theirs.
"And now," Ovid said. furiously he slapped Michael's face.
A tear of Michael's mingled with the blood.
"Swear to us," Emil whispered "We are forever under our protection even after we've broken Pete's spirit and resolve to love a sun walker."
"You have my word," Michael said sullenly, rubbing his stinging face.
"No, we have your balls," Lena laughed.
"From almost the beginning of Pete's immortal life I protected him from reality. Let Pete's disillusionment in a night walkers' life begin," Michael said coldly.
Michael left their jeering laughter, feeling like he sold Pete's and Josh's souls to hell, not to mention his own troubled, thirsty soul.
Heading quickly to where he left his victim's body, Christov stopped stunned.
Detective Mayes gloved hands was feeling the wrist of the cold corpse on the ground, shining his small flash light into its face.
"Christov," he mumbled, catching Christov's face in the flashlight's glare.
Pulling out his police revolver he cocked it.
"No, I'm Ken. Remember Ken Doll," Christov said sardonically, "What did you find a dead wino?"
"Mayes took out a knife from the corpse he had plunged into it, "Nice of you to make this convenient for me bitch. Showing up at the scene of your crime. I was going to say I stopped you from taking the corpse away to cut up into pieces. That you ran away. Now I can make sure your prints are all over the murder weapon."
"What are you talking about? You were going to set me up with a corpse you found?" Christov cried, "Set me up for murder! I'm not Christov! You fool!"
A bullet slashed through Christov's chest, then another ran through his groin Staggering backwards Christov put his head under his arms, breaking out into a run.
Running to his sedan to call for back up, Mayers yelled into the police radio, "I just saw a guy stab another guy. His name is Christov. I shot him when he took off running. I must have missed. I don't see how I did. He has to be at least wounded. I'm giving chase,." Mayers gasped. The cord to his police radio had been cut.
A force stronger than death grabbed the detective from behind, carrying the struggling detective and the corpse into an abandoned building.
Mayers was placed against a cross beam.. Nails were pounded into the man's palms. A bloody rag was forced into his screaming mouth. He heard a ripping sound. His stomach's skin hung loosely down. A sheet of blood was pouring down his legs.
Still running away, Christov zigzagged thinking he was sill being hunted by Mayers.
Rough hands clasped themselves over his mouth. Struggling against the demon, pinning him against the wall, Christov pushed the monster away. Christov yelled, "Will you get your stupid hand off of me Michael."
"You left a corpse for anyone to find. You moron," Michael yelled in his face.
"I had it hidden behind a dumpster. Michael you are being such a bitch about this. I healed the puncture wounds on his throat before we left for the restaurant. He was a homeless wino. Winos die every night. Smell me. Don't I smell like a wino?
Pushing a now healed Christov forwards, Michael cursed, "You shouldn't have come back to your kill. What's the matter with you?"
"I, I," Christov babbled "I wasn't sure if I actually healed the puncture wound. I was distraught about Pete leaving."
"You shouldn't have ran away! You should have killed him!"
"I was surprised." Christov cried, "I wasn't sure if he was the only mortal around. So I ran!"
"When I saw what was happening in your mind I flew to kill him but he was already gone. Your picture, your description is going to be on the news. In newspapers. How could you have been so stupid?" Michael said sourly, holding his shoulders, "I have every right to kill you."
"I know, " Christov said, making an attempt to bite Michael hands.
"You stay put. Don't move, don't breathe. I'm going back to access the damage. If you so much as take a step out of this spot I will tear you slowly to pieces."
"Fine," Christov smirked.
Michael went swiftly to where the corpse lay, fully expecting the wails of ambulances and the flaming lights of police cars. To his surprise there was neither. Not even a body was in the alley. The only thing which remotely hinted at a killing having taken place was a pool of Christov's blood already soaked into the ground. Mayer's car was abandoned. Already street people were casing it plunder. Waiting to see if it was safe to strip it down.
Michael went over and shut the sedan's door. Disappearing quickly into the sky, too fast for mortal eyes to witness his moving from the car, he flew to where he left Christov. Not surprisingly there was no Christov
Flying over head, looking for anything suspicious, Michael landed on some freshly turned up earth. Grumbling, he dug into the ground. Gasping, Michael discovered putrefying dead dog.
"Man's best friend," Christov jibed behind him, "Didn't you smell it you freak before you dug it up?"
"I started digging too fast before I noticed the smell, cunt," Michael snarled.
"So what's the deal," Christov said, "You going to ice me big boy?"
"I should for the sheer pleasure of it alone," Michael said wiping his hands on Christov naked chest.
"He was going to set me up,'" Christov said coolly, "That jack off of a cop found the body and he was going to make it look like I killed him by knifing him. He even shot at me. He tried to murder me. All these years he's carried such a grudge against me he was willing, no anticipating the night he could kill me after I left him. Even through he should have thought it to be impossible that I was really me he couldn't accept a lie which made more sense than the truth. Lies, truth, what did it matter? He was totally insane. And the poets they call it love."
"I guess your friend Henri saved your ass. The body, Mayers, everything is gone."
"So your have no reason to kill me after all?" Christov smiled, fluttering his false eyes lash at him.
"You owe your friend Henri you know," Michael said woodenly, "That's what the poets call love."
Feeling shaky, Christov's feet almost slid out from under him, thinking, Mayers would have done it. If I hadn't have kept on sleeping with him, he would have put me in jail. I was all wrong about Mayers. Or worse he might have even killed me. All these years I've been blaming Henri for him being used against me in Mayer's blackmail of me. It wasn't really Henri's fault. Henri or not, Mayers still had me by the short hairs. I just didn't want to admit the truth to myself. I deluded myself into using my protection of Henri for the reason Mayers trapped a touch guy like me. If anything Henri saved me again, and, and the poets they call it love. He loves me? Me? No. Not loves me, like in love Does he?
"Christov you don't look too well," Michael worried.
"I'm fine, I'm OK," Christov said sliding onto the ground, burying his head in his arms, saying " Michael he loves me as a friend only a friend. He doesn't, he's not in love with me."
Looking up at Michael, Christov growled, "What the hell were you doing in my mind?"
"Christov," Michael said putting his hand to his shoulder, feeling guilty, thinking, What am I doing? I can't justify hurting Pete out of love. I can't even justify hurting Josh, neither of them deserve it.
"I, " Michael swallowed, "I wanted to see how you felt about Pete leaving. Tell Pete not to go to Paris. Take him home, immediately. This coven it can't be trusted. Things could get out of hand. He and Josh could get hurt."
tbc