“It is I, Joshua…Marcellus,” the man answered.
“Marcellus?” the boy thought hard. Had he met a Marcellus recently?
“No, my boy, we’ve never met,” the man stepped down onto the basement floor and slowly made his way to the table. There, he deposited the bottle and glass before he sat in the chair that Casey normally would have.
His eyes perused Joshua quickly, finding him to be a most attractive young man, with long dark brown hair, large doe-brown eyes set in almond shape and lips that would weaken the strongest of lovers. Though the boy was thin, he had filled out some in his captivity, which had gone to all the right places.
“How long have you been down here, Joshua?” he asked then, just to be certain he had read the boy’s mind correctly.
“I really don’t know,” Joshua hung his head briefly. “But, how is it that you know me, and I don’t know you?”
Marcellus chuckled. “My dear boy, you have already sensed that something is very different about me, haven’t you?”
Joshua studied the strange man with long wavy black hair and a hint of an olive sheen to his tanned skin. He was a good looking man…hell; he was drop dead gorgeous, as far as Josh was concerned. Lips that were sensual and perfectly proportioned, and for the moment that beautiful man’s deep blue eyes were focused on him.
In his perusal of the man, Joshua’s eyes plundered his body. Well structured, defined muscles though not bulky, firmed, toned—everything a lover could hope for in another. The arms were like boas that flexed and bulged and caused him to desire to feel their strength and power. Strong thighs and well defined calves incited him to wonder what the stranger had done as an occupation.
He wondered what Marcellus was thinking…what the man thought of him…and how the hell did Marcellus know his name?
He watched the man turn his attention to the bottle that he lifted in a strong, nimble, yet graceful hand and poured more wine into the long stemmed glass.
“Why are you here?” he asked of Marcellus.
The man sighed at the sound of Joshua’s masculine, yet demure voice, as he lifted the glass and turned to the boy again.
“To get to know you, Joshua. I’m rather curious about you,” he dragged a corner of his sensual lips upward; his eyes reflected a natural allure that Joshua hadn’t ever seen before in a man.
“Why? I’m nobody special,” Joshua stated.
“Ah, but you are, my dear boy,” Marcellus stood, his glass in hand, and ambled slowly toward him. “You are very special,” he almost whispered when he stood directly before Joshua, though he left out his reasons for saying so…at the moment.
A hand lifted, the fingers curled, the thumb lightly caressed Joshua’s lower lip. The backs of the fingers brushed his jawline and chin. Joshua shivered, as a powerful ripple of desire swept through him. Their eyes locked in a deep stare, Joshua thought the earth had tilted on its axis and time had stood still.
The hand cradled his cheek, which he desperately wanted to lean into, but didn’t. The man’s touch was cool, as the hand moved back into his hair and grasped the back of his head gently.
“Drink this. It will help sooth you.” Marcellus placed the rim of the glass to Joshua’s lips and tilted it up slightly.
Joshua drank, just as it had been that first night when Casey forced a beer down him, though Marcellus was less demanding and was very polite. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he had become and soon closed his eyes, gulping it down quickly.
When the glass lowered, he looked up at the tall man who remained, his hand still grasping the back of his head. His face drew nearer and Joshua’s heart skipped a beat. He knew the man was about to kiss him and craved it more than life itself. It was odd to him how he wanted this man so desperately…so suddenly. All others he had shunned and fought with—but this man—there had to be some power of persuasion, some bewitching seduction the stranger used.
Their lips met—only a brush—Joshua shivered, the contrast of warmth and cold mingled between them. Still, deep inside Joshua, his body responded with waves of heat. His belly tightened and he hardened. He opened slightly to the stranger, desiring more than just a gentle brush of Marcellus’ lips. The man’s tongue slipped out, teased Joshua’s lips with light caresses, just before it invaded his oral recesses.
Joshua’s eyes drifted closed. His body inched closer to the stranger in an effort to invite Marcellus to know him intimately. His heart pounded heavily against the wall of his chest and he wondered if the stranger could hear it.
The kiss was much too short lived and Joshua felt bereft when the man detached from his mouth. Marcellus’ lips grazed his cheek, now warm and moist from their kiss. Unconsciously, he canted his head slightly, as the lips trailed a path down his throat. He shivered from the feathery light touch of them.
Marcellus marveled at how willing Joshua was. He slipped his tongue past his lips and lightly tasted of the boy’s gentle salty flavor. Joshua’s pulse thrummed beneath it at a somewhat quicker beat than before and he couldn’t help but allow the beast within to surface. He had long caught the scent of Joshua’s chemistry and the aroma of his blood, which he longed for though he had already fed.
His fangs barely protruding from his lips, he peeled his upper lip back and brushed one along the boy’s skin. Excitement rose in him, desire for a taste that vexed him terribly at that moment. Again, he pressed his tongue against the throbbing pulse, relishing the strength and feel of it. He moaned softly, then pried himself from Joshua’s throat, before he did the unthinkable.
Joshua was caught up in the moment, the intimacy, and the contact. So when he felt the hard cold fang brush his skin, he became a bit confused. Red flags went up everywhere in his thoughts, yet he could only surmise that what he felt was his imagination.
He whined softly when the man pulled away.
Marcellus stood motionless and allowed Joshua to peruse him once again, only now in his vampire state. Though he had hidden his fangs, he wondered how long it would take for the boy to come to the correct conclusion. A slow smile lifted the corners of his lips, bearing only the tips of his fangs to the boy. It broadened when Joshua’s eyes widened.
“Yes, Joshua, I am a vampire,” he affirmed.
“No,” the boy barely spoke and slowly shook his head negatively. “Vampires don’t exist. That’s only legend and myth,” he claimed with conviction.
“But where did all of that legend and myth come from, my dear boy?” Marcellus was highly amused and showed it openly.
“Just stories that villagers and peasants made up to pacify the time, or maybe keep the kids from being out of their beds at dark, I don’t know.”
Marcellus chuckled, turned, ambling to the table, where he poured himself another glass of wine then sat in the chair. He turned to Joshua, who yet hung from the rafter.
“Per chance it could be that vampire legend and myth was possibly a ploy to insure the children were in their beds after dark, Joshua. But why? Why would a parent, who loved their children, become so frantic to insure they were inside and safe at dusk?”