As Eli comes to terms with his true identity, he, Isaiah and Malachi must flee from France as Morbius closes the net around them. Yet, saying goodbye to his home, and the love that he must leave there forever, proves to be more difficult than Eli could ever imagine.
Now Eli has to face the tumultuous events that transpired in Victorian England, and Malachi must face a return trip to the place of his birth and his death. London is waiting for them, and as they grieve for the loss that fills their broken hearts, each has a story to face and a dilemma to confront that could change their lives forever.
As London falls to Hitler’s deadly bombs, each must be prepared to say their goodbyes, because the end game has begun.
There is something about a trip to the theatre that cannot fail to thrill you. Is it the darkness as the lights fade to plunge you headlong into the unknown? The atmosphere of an expectant audience as it waits in anticipation for the words to be uttered by the talent they adore? Is it the crowds of living, breathing humans that squeeze into such a confined space? Is it the smell of sweat and skid marks that assaults one’s nose and excites one’s senses? Or is it the cloying tang of blood that clings to the lining of my nose and tickles the back of my throat that makes me so rock-hard?
No. It was him, the magnificent man on the stage, the creature who commanded my attention with his every word, every compelling syllable sending an erotic thrill up my expanding shaft.
“Men must endure.”
“Their going hence, even as their coming hither,” he intoned from the gas lit stage. His rich, booming voice rippled over our attentive heads, like warm blood trickling over my erect nipples. And it demanded my devotion.
I leant towards Gideon sitting next to me in the darkness, and I whispered into his ear.
“He is fucking magnificent, isn’t he? I want him. May I have him?”
Gideon cast me a sly glance. “Since when did you ever need to ask for permission?”
If looks could kill, the daggers shooting out of my eyes would have sliced him in two on the spot. “Don’t even begin to start me on that, old man. Shall we? Shall we take him there?”
“Your confidence never fails to astound me. What makes you think that he would want to?”
“Oh, please, have you seen me?”
Gideon tried very hard to suppress a grin. “I don’t think there’s a pair of eyes in this theatre that hasn’t looked upon your magnificence, Eli. You do love to flaunt it so.”
“Good. Maybe you should try looking at me sometimes, old man. You never know, you may like it.”
I meant the quip to sound amusing, but instead, it came out bitter and twisted. It seemed that I could say very little to him anymore without it sounding like the start of an argument. He flinched slightly, and I saw the spark of pain that ignited in his eyes, but he extinguished it as efficiently as he’d extinguished our sex life.
My gaze bored into him, the man on the stage. I stared at him until my eyes fucked his very soul. I ruined him with my gaze as surely as my cock would tear his asshole apart.
It seemed to me that he spoke every word from his plump, cock sucking lips for my benefit. The moment he saw me, fucking him with my eyes, he faltered, a momentary lapse of concentration, and I knew, without any doubt, that he was mine to have. He caught his breath, chewed on his bottom lip slightly, moistening it with his tongue, a subtle lascivious flirtation that made my cock twitch with appreciation.
His lips trembled. When he opened his mouth and his magnificent rumbling voice issued from his throat, it arrived with a different intonation, a passion that gave each word a new meaning. Every syllable, each perfectly formed sentence, he aimed at me, sitting in the darkness, the Vampire staring at his next meal.
Would I feed on him? Would I allow myself the pleasure of my teeth breaking his pale, thin skin to suck on his life, just as I pumped him full of my own dead seed? The thought of it made me squirm with anticipation.
My hand wandered beneath the seat’s arm rest and slid across to Gideon’s lap. My fingers traced the magnificence of his bulge entombed beneath his tight black trousers. His cock engorged with blood at my touch, and my fingers rubbed along its length as it moved beneath the thin cloth, eliciting a thin gasp from between his tight lips.
I felt his fingers grip my hand, squeezing me, and for one giddy moment of erotic bliss, I mistook his actions for encouragement. I wanted him to press my hand down hard upon his impressive erection.
