DeVante's Curse (4 page)

She humbled him, and he hated her for it. But
then she soothed him and stroked him, praised him for accepting his
punishment like a man. She fed him more blood and said she was
proud of him. By the time she was forced to sleep, DeVante was
unable to form a coherent thought.

In the morning Felix pulled DeVante from
Katarina's bed, and walked him to their winter sleeping pallets in
the library.

"You need to come back here when she sleeps,"
Felix said. "I can't stand finding you in her bed, not knowing if
you'll be alive."

DeVante tried to smile. "When she is finished
with me, I am confused and just want to sleep. Her bed is
comfortable. I do not mean to worry you. How you find the energy to
leave in the morning is beyond me."

"I leave because I don't trust her and I will
not stay in her bed willingly for one moment," Felix snapped. His
voice was sharp with anger and the line of his body tense.

"Oh. Well. There is nothing to fear from her
when she is sleeping. Still, I will come back to my own bed next
time. I promise you."

"This is the longest winter ever," Felix
said, and his voice had softened, which was some indication that he
accepted DeVante's promise. "Could I lie beside you?"

In past winters, they had huddled together
under blankets for warmth when wood was in scarce supply. In fact,
after one particularly cold winter, they had given up the notion of
separate sleeping quarters altogether.

DeVante gave assent, and Felix slid under the
blanket and lay with his back against DeVante's front, curled
slightly on his side. DeVante had grown taller than Felix, and they
fit together perfectly.

It was nice to lie close to another person.
There was some awkward shuffling of arms and legs, and DeVante
ended up with one arm looped loosely around Felix's middle, and the
other cradling Felix's head.

"I could easily sleep like this," Felix said,
and there was something odd and choked in his voice.

"Yes," DeVante agreed, eyes already wanting
to close.

"How can you sleep in her bed? Aren't you
terrified?"

"No," DeVante said into Felix's wiry, black
hair. "She can hit me and hurt me, and do any number of things, but
I am no longer afraid of her." He sighed. "Her touch on my skin… I
cannot explain how it feels."

"I know how it feels," Felix said. "That her
touch makes me desire her terrifies me even more."

"No one has ever touched me with kindness,"
DeVante said. "Not like that. You know."

"Like a lover," Felix said, and the scorn in
his voice was obvious.

DeVante followed an odd impulse to touch his
lips to the soft skin at the nape of Felix's neck. Felix shuddered
in his arms.

"Yes, like a lover, " DeVante whispered, his
lips feathering against Felix's skin. "And like a mother, with
gentle hands, full breasts, soft belly. Until Katarina brought me
here, I had lived most of my life without the touch of another
human."

"She's not human. And her touch is more often
cruel than kind."

"Yes," DeVante agreed. "There is a part of
her that is filled with rage, and she loses control. But she is not
completely bad."

"She is completely bad," Felix said sharply.
"She's a monster. She kills to survive."

"Did you know she was made into a vampire
against her will?" DeVante asked.

"No. Did she tell you that? She lies."

"I saw it. I pulled the memory out of her
while she fed me her blood. You told me she finds out everything
when she drinks from us. Well, it goes both ways. I could see her
memories."

"What else did you see?" Felix asked, but
DeVante was already falling asleep.

"Hush now, my friend. I'll tell you
later."

He slept, only to be awakened some time later
to find Felix's hands on his body, fingers floating gently over his
stomach, making his muscles twitch and roll. And then Felix's mouth
near DeVante's mouth, soft whisper, "Is it all right?" just before
Felix's tongue darted between DeVante's lips.

The touch felt good, and his body responded
to Felix in much the same way as to Katarina. He kissed Felix
back.

DeVante wanted skin against skin, craved it,
and so tore off his shirt, pushed his trousers off, and watched
Felix do the same. The daytime belonged to them. Why should they
not be lovers?

Time slowed. They touched each other with
gentle hands, exchanged quick nervous smiles, not quite sure what
to do. DeVante curled his fingers into Felix's hair and used his
grip to hold their mouths together, the flutter of their tongues
matching the flutter of excitement in his belly. Below the waist
they were both hard, cocks pressed together, hips moving to create
friction. Felix pulled way, and he was panting, demonstrating how
breathless DeVante felt. Felix pushed DeVante flat onto the pallet
and rose above him, lowering himself to nip at DeVante's lower lip,
then planting small kisses and bites along DeVante's jaw.

DeVante groaned and lifted his arms to crush
Felix in a hug, but Felix resisted, whispering, "No. Wait. Just…
let me," and he continued his kisses across DeVante's chest,
sucking at the flat of each nipple in turn until they became tight
little nubs. DeVante felt the tugs to his nipples between his legs,
and thought he would go mad if he couldn't rut against something,
but Felix apparently had a plan for that, as well.

Felix's mouth traced a silky wet trail down
and across DeVante's ribs, lower still to his stomach, and the skin
there was so sensitive that the little bites tickled and made
DeVante suck in his breath with a hiss.

And then Felix's eyes glittered up at DeVante
from between his thighs. He licked his lips and said, "Does she do
this to you?" Felix stroked DeVante's cock and cradled his ball
sack gently.

Yes
, DeVante nodded, but couldn't
speak.
Yes, she does that and it feels like heaven.

Felix's mouth was on the shaft of DeVante's
cock then, and DeVante couldn't help his response, a buck and a
groan, and a desperate wish for Felix to swallow his full
length.

And Felix did. There was a moment when
everything went still, a perfect moment of bliss, and DeVante
didn't know whether to grab Felix's head and hold him there while
he fucked that amazing mouth, or if he should lie still and let
Felix do what he would do.

He compromised in the end, allowing his hips
to move just a little in response to Felix's mouth, too much and
Felix gagged, but it was impossible to lie still and not move at
all. He tangled his fingers in Felix's hair again, clutching at
him, holding him in place, a pleasurable shudder working up his
spine and through his limbs. Felix's mouth and tongue and hands
found a rhythm, and DeVante had to let go of Felix's hair and
clutch the blanket underneath instead, lest he choke Felix and
force him to swallow the release that would come exploding out of
DeVante at any moment.

The moment came, and DeVante saw colors
behind his eyelids, felt the rough stubble of Felix's cheek against
his thigh, and heard an audible moan. When he dared to open his
eyes, he saw Felix's smiling face hovering above him, and tasted
himself in Felix's next kiss.

They rested a while, then washed, and went to
the pantry for bread, cheese, and a bit of wine. There were chores
to be done, but, thank God, no corpses to deal with. Days without
corpses were like holidays.

Perhaps they had too much wine, DeVante would
think later, and should have settled for the goats' milk that
stayed chill in its bottle in the courtyard. But they brought the
wineskin back to the library, and they kissed and held one another
and dozed before the fire. It was the best day ever.

"Has she ever…" DeVante started to say, but
then didn't know how to phrase it, so let his voice trail away.

"Ever what?" Felix asked.

"Pushed anything into you, you know, like a
woman." He couldn't look at Felix as he said it, though that seemed
ridiculous. Certainly there was horror enough to be shared in this
prison.

When DeVante did raise his eyes to look at
Felix again, Felix was nodding.

"Yes. It's shaped like a cock, though not as
wide, and not entirely smooth. Sometimes she greases it with
something, but if she doesn't, it hurts."

DeVante nodded. He thought he could bear it
if Felix wanted to fuck him that way. "I could sneak into
Katarina's chamber and get the jar of grease, and…"

Felix made a strangled sound and his eyes
widened with terror. DeVante turned his head to see Katarina
standing in the doorway.

"And what, DeVante? Did you enjoy being
penetrated so well that you would ask for it from another male?"
The fury in her tone was unmistakable. Rage twisted her features
into a sneer.

DeVante scrambled to his feet and held out
his hands. "Mistress! No. You misunderstand. We were just talking,
comparing what we've learned from you, the pleasures you give
us."

Her eyes glittered. "I think not."

DeVante stopped trying to explain. She would
accept no viable explanation, and in truth, none existed. How had
the day got away from them? How had they missed the sun's journey
across the sky toward nightfall?

"Come here Felix," she commanded.

Felix didn't even attempt to stand up. He
crawled off the pallet and across the floor. When he reached her
feet, he stayed on his knees and whispered, "Yes, Mistress. Can I
be of service?"

"Look at me," she said.

Felix obeyed.

DeVante sank back down on the pallet and
watched, helpless, dreading what she might do. If only she would do
it to him, instead. He could take it. He knew he could.

She reached down and brushed her fingers
through Felix's hair. DeVante watched Felix relax, almost preen
under her touch.

DeVante grew more tense.

Her hands moved quicker than DeVante's eyes
could follow, and she lifted Felix into the air, one hand wrapped
around his throat. He struggled in her grasp, clearly unable to
breathe. Her fingers dug into the flesh beneath Felix's jaw, and
she stared into his eyes for what felt like forever, before she
planted her mouth to his and pushed his jaws apart with her
tongue.

DeVante's heart hung suspended, along with
Felix's body.

And then she dropped Felix. He hit the floor
with a dull thud.

"You taste like DeVante. Disgusting. And you
--" she turned to DeVante. Her voice softened, almost as if she
were talking to herself. "Whatever shall I do with you?" She paced
the room, tapping her lips with steepled fingers, thinking. Every
click of her heels against the stone floor increased DeVante's
anxiety. He didn't dare go to Felix, but couldn't take his eyes off
his fallen friend.

Katarina's heels click, click, clicked, and
the moment DeVante realized she was coming closer was the same
moment she had a hand tangled in his hair. She gave a rough jerk,
pulling him off the pallet. He landed hard on the floor and the
impact knocked the wind out of him. He could not even fight her as
she dragged him out of the library and across the hall to his own
room. She flung him into the room and he landed hard on the floor.
His scalp felt like it was on fire, but he had to move, had to
fight her. He started to get to his feet. She was on him, knocking
him back down, fingers splayed across his face, pushing his head
back, her fangs sinking into his throat.

She drank and he was helpless, striking at
her with a weak fist that grew ever weaker as she drained him.

He was gasping, paralyzed, when she pulled
away. "You should never choose another male over me."

She stopped just outside the doorway and
wrenched on the door. The hinges were rusted, frozen, and in all
his years in the castle, DeVante had never been able to wrest the
door free. Katarina pulled again, and the hinges squealed as the
door slammed shut.

DeVante was too weak to move. Perhaps she had
taken enough blood that he would die here on the cold floor of a
cold room. His vision went fuzzy, then dark. He blinked and felt a
tear slide along his temple and run down his face into his ear. And
that was all.

When he next became aware of himself, it was
due to thirst. His mouth and throat were parched, and he was stiff
with cold. He remembered everything, and knew he had to find Felix.
But first he needed water. He dragged himself to his feet. He was
lightheaded. He let his drunken legs push him toward the door while
the rest of him leaned against the wall. It was slow, but he was
moving. He pushed against the door. Nothing happened. The rusted
hinges that had kept the door propped open now kept it closed.

He pushed against it again, but he was so
weak. He collapsed onto the floor.
Come on. You chop wood. You
haul and lift corpses. You can get this door open.
He couldn’t.
He curled up by the door and passed out.

Again he woke and tried to push the door.
Studied it. Looked at the side opposite the hinges. If he could
wedge his back against the inside of the door frame and push with
his legs…

With a loud creak the door swung open. Only
part way, but it was enough. DeVante pulled himself through the
opening. He got to his feet and felt steadier this time. He needed
water, desperately. He went to the pantry and lifted the pitcher of
drinking water to his mouth. He swallowed with huge spluttering
gulps, then set the pitcher down and plunged his hands in, using
them to splash his face and soak his hair.

He felt stronger. Strong enough?

He stepped into the courtyard to look at the
sun. It was afternoon.

He had to find Felix.

Every step nearer to Katarina's chamber aged
him a hundred years. He paused outside the closed door, hoping it
would be locked but knowing it wouldn't be.