Chapter Text
Mizrak’s head hung limply as he dangled from the tight grip around his wrists, breathing raggedly. Whenever he opened his eyes, his vision swam sickeningly, so he kept them tightly closed. The bruises and abrasions covering his naked body, along with the sharp pain in his left side, made it clear he wouldn’t last much longer. Given how the last few months had gone, he half-wondered if Hell would be more restful.
He wished he could shut his ears as easily as his eyes. The vampires’ laughter grated along his spine, and the slurping noises and cut-off whimpers from various corners of the room made his stomach churn, for all that he wished his own end would be that quick. He didn’t bother to pray: God had clearly abandoned him and his brethren when their abbot sold all their souls in a deal with a demon.
The night creature holding his arms above his head shifted, and his stomach lurched as he swung forward, then back. Bile rose in his throat, but the creature stilled again, and he choked it down. He could hear the vampires moving this way; hopefully this would be over soon, though he doubted whatever came next would be any better.
“My loyal subjects! I have gifts for some of you,” Báthory pronounced nearby. “I will admit the gift comes with strings, however. My power grows daily, and soon I would be able to block out the sun permanently, plunging this world into the darkness we thrive in! But without ever seeing the sun, the world would grow cold and barren, and the pathetic humans we feed from would freeze or starve. So, there will be times that I have to allow the sun’s hateful rays to warm the dirt and feed the plants, to keep our own food supply alive.
“However!” she declared dramatically, silencing the dissatisfied whispers around the room. Mizrak’s upper lip curled, disgusted at their whining, when they already had all the power here. “I refuse to bring all my operations to a halt simply because the sun shines. I have devised a solution: a company of dhampirs, born to serve me!”
The murmuring sounded confused off to the sides but eager from the area around where Báthory’s voice came from. Her favorites must have figured out the plan and their parts in it.
“Behold these slaves: formerly beta knights in service to the church, they will now serve the true Messiah as omegas, courtesy of my new machine. My favorites among the alphas will have first choice of broodmare; the remaining omegas will be free for all to use, and I do encourage all of you to work diligently to fill their wombs with children!”
She must have gestured someone forward, because now he could hear the tap-tap-tap of shoes on the marble floor. The night creature shifted, and a sharper pain bit into Mizrak’s side. For a moment he thought it was the vampire, but the shoes continued uninterrupted, back and forth. Further down the row, another of the knights yelped as he was dropped to the floor.
It felt harder to breathe as the minutes passed and more of his brethren were chosen, though he didn’t fully know why. He might’ve broken a rib before, which would fit the pain, but that shouldn’t affect his breathing, should it? His head spun even with his eyes closed, now, and the sudden need to shiver in the cold air wasn’t helping anything.
Fingers grasped his chin firmly, but not hard enough to bruise, he noted with mild surprise. His face was tilted up, and he opened his eyes to meet a pair of glowing pale green ones in a dark-skinned visage. Pretty, he thought muzzily. Then the man’s other hand touched his side, and his senses exploded with pain.
He couldn’t scream or even move as the agony dug deeper. Something shifted inside him—his rib?—then something larger, and he choked, feeling like he was drowning. The night creature dropped him, and he fell to his knees, coughing and spluttering, blood spraying from his mouth all over the marble tiles in front of him.
After a moment, his breath came more easily, and he gulped in air gratefully, noting the pain in his side was gone. As a hand on his left bicep dragged him to his feet, he heard Báthory say, “I was unaware you had a healing gift, Olrox. Two unusual abilities—you must be proud. And your future children will be blessed.”
“Thank you, Countess. I look forward to watching them grow,” the vampire holding him responded smoothly.
Mizrak’s head still felt heavy, his mind slow, and he began to shiver in the unheated air. No clothes, no fire in the great hearths at opposite ends of the ballroom—it would be a miracle if he didn’t get sick. As if in answer to his thoughts, one of his brethren sneezed. Oh … maybe they’d all already caught cold.
There was more talking, but he ignored it, barely even aware of the hand holding him up. Then the room spun sickeningly for a long moment, and he fell to his knees, retching.
Opening his eyes, he noticed the floor under him now was different—patterns created by a variety of smaller blue and white tiles, rather than the large golden-hued tiles in the ballroom. He raised his head and saw a man in purple silk breeches and jacket leaning over a tub, fiddling with knobs on the wall next to it. Suddenly water poured from an unseen source, and he jumped, startled.
The man turned, a smirk revealing his fangs, and Mizrak saw it was the green-eyed vampire from before. Long, straight black hair fell over his shoulder, and he’d pushed his sleeves up, baring his strong forearms. “Vampires tend to hoard the best technology for ourselves. Plumbing is the one I enjoy most when I return after time away. Come tell me if this is too hot; I’m not familiar with human temperature tolerances.”
Mizrak rose hesitantly and approached, the vampire stepping aside as he neared the tub. Steam rose from the surface, and he hissed when his fingers met the water: just below scalding. That would feel incredible on his sore muscles … which was when he checked himself. This wouldn’t be for him; no, the vampire probably wanted him to play bath attendant and didn’t wish to exert himself to heal Mizrak’s burns afterward. “It’s fine,” he said quietly, withdrawing his fingers from the water and wiping them dry on his bare hip.
“Good!” the vampire replied briskly. “Soap’s in the dish: you’ll need quite a bit of it. Take your time, and don’t get out until you’re completely clean. I don’t know where they were keeping you before, but it must’ve smelled horrendous.” And he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Huh, Mizrak thought dazedly. Maybe the bath was for him. Forget not getting out until he was clean—he wasn’t leaving until the water was cold. God only knew when an opportunity like this would come along again.
***
Mizrak shivered as he tried to wipe the water from his skin and hair with his hands. The bathwater was quite cold now, but the initial hot soak, plus the extended time to himself, had been … not invigorating, as it might normally have been, but at least pleasant. But he couldn’t put off returning to his new “master” any longer. Hopefully he hadn’t already earned a punishment, though if that were the case, he would’ve expected the man to come in and drag him out, not simply wait for him.
Before he bothered to open the door, he took a moment to look in the large mirror hanging on the wall. He looked terrible: paler than normal, and thin, though not quite emaciated; his muscles had lost some of their definition from his previous sword training. His beard was gone—they’d all been shaved regularly, and given the new hormones slowing the growth, he expected it would be weeks, if not months, before he got past the scruffy-stubble phase. Smooth-faced like this, he looked at least a decade younger, as if he’d only just reached manhood. Closing his eyes in resignation, he turned and opened the door to face the vampire.
He waited in the doorway, still dripping slightly, for several minutes before the vampire looked up from the book he was reading. An elegant eyebrow arched, looking him up and down, before the vampire sighed and put his book down on the side table next to the overstuffed armchair he’d been sitting in. “I forgot the towel, didn’t I?” he asked smoothly, rising and moving to a chest along one wall. Pulling out a massive towel, he tossed it lightly to Mizrak, saying, “Catch.”
Mizrak barely caught it, too surprised to react faster. At a look from the vampire, he began to dry himself, finding the material to be sinfully soft. After scrubbing it against his hair a few times—which was an inch and a half longer than he preferred—he dropped the towel on the floor and waited again. Let the vampire order him to pick it up; he wasn’t offering servitude freely.
The vampire, who’d returned to his seat next to the hearth, turned a page and sighed, not looking up. “Sleep—you look like a stiff breeze could knock you over, and I want to finish this.”
Mizrak knew he would almost certainly be punished for this, but he didn’t lie at the foot of the bed like a well-trained dog. He refused to shiver at his master’s feet while watching as the dawn light peaked around the edges of the thick curtains. No, he pulled the covers back and lay down squarely in the middle with his head on the pillow, pulling the heavy blankets up to his chin. Maybe he’d have a few minutes to enjoy the warmth and softness before the vampire noticed. After all, he hadn’t seemed to notice the towel left on the floor yet. Still, soon enough he’d be yanked out of the bed and beaten for his insolence. Any minute now … any … minute …
***
Mizrak woke sometime in the middle of the day, muscles aching with how hard he was shivering, teeth chattering like castanets. After a moment, a warm bar across his abdomen pulled him back into a source of heat, and he fought to turn towards it, burying his face in something soft. Several minutes passed, and he began to warm up slightly. He noticed small movements in the heated surface, almost like … breathing.
He jerked backward, staring wide-eyed into the glowing green eyes of the vampire, half-hidden behind his lids. Mizrak’s skin prickled, and at this point he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or lingering cold. The softness must have been the vampire’s hair, he thought distantly.
“Don’t tell me you’re already warm enough; I can see that you’re not,” the vampire murmured.
Mizrak bit out, “What do you want?” Why, in God’s name, would his vampire owner be … cuddling him? It must just be a prelude to— The new place between his legs clenched tight at the thought, and he fought down his sudden urge to flee. It wouldn’t do him any good.
“For you not to be ill,” the vampire answered casually, as if that made any sense whatsoever.
“What? Why do you care?” Vampires couldn’t catch cold, could they?
“You’re my responsibility for the moment, so I need to make sure you have what you need to get well. Are you hungry?” the vampire asked, changing the subject.
Mizrak’s stomach growled, but he ignored it. “Your responsibility? Why don’t you just say I’m your slave and have done with it?” he spat.
The vampire sighed, rolling over to sit up and leave the bed. He moved to the hearth, where a bowl had been keeping its contents warm. His untied tunic gaped when he bent down, and his trousers pulled tight over his toned backside. As he returned to the bed, Mizrak saw past him that the large towel was no longer lying on the floor but hung over a bar in the bathing room.
“Here,” the vampire said, perching on the side of the bed and offering him the bowl. “Bone broth. I don’t know how much they’ve been feeding you, and I don’t want to give you too much at first, in case your stomach can’t handle it. I’ll find you something more this evening.”
Mizrak gulped the hot liquid, not caring as it burned his mouth and throat. When he’d finished, he wiped a few stray beads from his skin and licked his fingers, not willing to miss a single drop.
A hand entering his field of vision nearly made him tumble backwards, which might have ended with him on the floor, given how close to the edge he’d gotten without realizing. The hand grabbed his wrist, preventing him from moving too far away, and another reached for his throat. He bared his teeth, daring the vampire to choke him … but he only rested his hand on the skin of Mizrak’s neck, and the pain from scalding his mouth and throat faded. He swallowed hesitantly, and the hands moved away, one retrieving the empty bowl as it went.
“Impulsive and prone to injury, are we? No matter. My name is Olrox. What would you like me to call you?” the vampire asked. Mizrak stayed silent, and after a long moment, the vampire chuckled. “If you’d prefer me to pick something, I suppose we could always go with Pet—”
“Mizrak,” the knight bit out. Like hell would he answer to Pet.
“Much better. Now, Mizrak, I recommend you get a few more hours of sleep.” From the line of light that penetrated past the curtains, it was probably just past noon. “We’re expected at court again tonight, and it’ll drag on much longer if you’re still feeling unwell.” The vampire stood and returned to his armchair, settling into it and picking up his book again. “Do let me know if you start feeling cold again,” he said casually.
Mizrak carefully lay back and pulled the blankets up to his chin, then changed his mind and pulled them farther up, covering his eyes. The broth had warmed him nicely for the time being, though he’d no doubt wake cold with a full bladder. Did the fantastical plumbing in this place extend as far as a privy, or would he need to find an outhouse? Surely the architects would’ve considered that when they brought hot water straight into a bath, no longer using the standard method of heating buckets of water over a fire. And wondering about the plumbing was so much more comfortable than wondering what this Olrox had planned for him. Would he continue to pretend he cared about Mizrak’s well-being, when surely he could’ve healed this head cold as easily as he’d healed rib, lung, and throat? Would he—
No, plumbing. How did the bath get emptied of water? There’d been a stopper of some kind in the bottom, but did the water go into pipes to be taken outside? Or …
Chapter Text
Mizrak awoke to the feeling of someone’s fingers on his forehead. He groaned tiredly, and they disappeared. Opening his eyes, he saw the vampire standing nearby.
Olrox dropped a bundle of fabric at the foot of the bed. “Get dressed. There’s food for you on the table. I’ll be back shortly.” He walked toward the door, and as he reached it, his form dispersed into smoke and flowed out of sight.
Mizrak got out of bed, stretching. He felt significantly better now that his fever had broken, and he was hungry. He could see a plate with bread, cheese, and grapes on a table off to one side, as promised; an empty glass and a pitcher stood beside the plate.
Shaking out the clothing, Mizrak sighed with mingled pleasure and disappointment. A long-sleeved tunic—or more likely, a rich man’s winter nightshirt—of thick, warm gray wool had been wrapped around a simple cord belt. The cord looked worn, like it would snap if pulled tight around someone’s throat: clearly Olrox was cautious. But despite Mizrak’s pleasure at finally being able to cover his nakedness and retain some minimum amount of warmth, he was uneasy that he still lacked braies, trousers, and boots.
Moving to the table, he ate quickly, hunched over the plate and carefully finding and eating every fallen crumb. He poured water into the glass, drank it down, and poured himself a second glass to sip at.
Looking more closely at his surroundings than he had the previous night, now that he was alone and had the time, he saw a large bedchamber with sitting area and eating area. Built-in shelves along the walls on either side the fireplace were mostly empty, with half a dozen books placed haphazardly, one close to falling off its shelf. A darker rectangle of wallpaper above the mantle hinted that a painting had hung there once; where it was now was anyone’s guess. A grandfather clock off to the side ticked softly as its pendulum swung. The two chests in the room held linens and blankets, nothing of further interest.
Was the door locked or unlocked? Could he see what the rest of the building looked like? He didn’t delude himself into thinking he could outrun a vampire, but …
The door he’d been staring at opened, and Olrox entered, smiling slightly when his gaze met Mizrak’s. A spot of blood lingered at the corner of his mouth: he must’ve been out feeding, Mizrak thought with a shudder.
Seeing his reaction, Olrox wiped at the spot with his thumb, then licked off the blood. A slight reddish stain remained. “We’ll be leaving for the chateau momentarily—” So this was a different building, Mizrak thought. “But first we need to cover some ground rules.”
Mizrak snorted. “Kneel, don’t meet your eyes, address you as Master?” he sneered. That had all been covered already; Mizrak simply had no intention of surrendering so easily.
Olrox shook his head, the long dark hair over his shoulder swinging freely back and forth. “Not entirely, no. I prefer that you do, in fact, meet my eyes when I’m speaking with you, though it’s not a requirement. I’d also prefer you not use a title at all, though you can use ‘sir’ if you feel so inclined. And kneeling may be required at times, but I’ll tell you when to do so.
“No, the ground rules I’m instituting are that you come when I call you, and that you let no one else touch you—or at least, no other vampire,” he amended. “You’re welcome to huddle for warmth with your brethren, when they’re not otherwise occupied. But if another vampire lays a finger on you, or reaches like he’s about to, say my name, and I’ll come and deal with it.”
Mizrak’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why? I doubt any of the other vampires will care who touches their new slaves.” Not that he wanted to be touched by them; he’d prefer for even Olrox to keep his distance. But it was odd.
“I have a reputation for being possessive,” Olrox drawled. “And I intend to use that to its fullest extent: no one ogles what’s mine, no one touches what’s mine, and no one watches as I fuck what’s mine.”
Mizrak looked away. Apparently, his reprieve was over. “I won’t just let you—” he started.
Olrox cut him off. “Naturally. And the reason I’ll give for why you don’t reek of sex is that I’ve chosen to train you first. Which is why it’s important that you come to me when I call.”
“What?” That didn’t make sense. It almost sounded like the vampire didn’t plan to—
Olrox’s lip curled in distaste. “I don’t hold with slavery, or rape for that matter,” the vampire said quietly. “But one doesn’t tell Erzsebet Báthory ‘no’ if one expects to survive for long. She’s too powerful for me to fight alone, and with all her minions fighting as well, especially Drolta … There’s no point in trying. Not yet.”
Mizrak stared at him. “You want to stop her?”
“She summoned me because apparently, after she conquers Europe, she’s headed for the Americas next. I don’t intend to give her the chance.” Moving into the bathing room to wash his face, Olrox continued, “Obviously I’d prefer that information not get back to her. But I assume you understand the stakes: if you and I can’t work together on this, I’ll only lose her favor, but she’ll take you away from me.”
“So?” That didn’t sound like high stakes for him, just Olrox.
Exiting the bathing room with a towel still held in his fingers, he eyed Mizrak. “So, you do remember what most of the vampires in that court are like, yes? I assume one of them gave you the broken rib that managed to puncture your lung last night. Would you prefer to be owned by one of those brutes?” At Mizrak’s shudder, Olrox nodded. “I thought not.”
Tossing the towel negligently over his shoulder, he continued, “Now, as far as coming when I call you, I understand human hearing isn’t as sharp as a vampire’s, especially if you’re across a room full of people talking. So when I call for you, I’ll do so by speaking directly into your mind.”
Mizrak stepped back, alarmed. “You—you can control—”
“No, I’m not referring to mind control, or reading your mind, or whatever else you’re worrying about,” Olrox responded, looking amused. “You’ll simply hear me without using your ears.” //Like so,// he continued, but while Mizrak heard him clearly, Olrox’s lips hadn’t moved that time.
“And you’re not … while you’re in my head, you won’t …” Mizrak stuttered.
Olrox shook his head. “I’m not in your mind, so I wouldn’t be able to interfere with it, even if I wanted to. Although …” he mused, bringing one hand up to cup his chin while the other cupped his opposite elbow. “It could be helpful if they think there’s some sort of hypnosis involved. And before you ask, no, I can’t hypnotize anyone. But my eyes are unusual enough that people will believe almost anything.” He sounded amused again.
“Why would them believing that be useful?” Mizrak asked warily.
“To explain why you’re willing to come to me so soon after I’ve gotten you. And a further excuse for the lack of sex: I need to solidify my hold on your mind before I ask for more, or some such nonsense.” He waved a hand nonchalantly.
Mizrak was less than reassured about the hypnosis. How would he know whether that was actually the truth of what was happening? And what could he do, even if it was the case?
“Will you agree to my ground rules?” Olrox asked patiently when Mizrak looked back at him. “No other vampires allowed to touch, and come to me when I call you?”
“I suppose. But I won’t promise to do anything else you ask of me,” Mizrak muttered.
To his surprise, Olrox laughed. “Fair enough. Shall we?” He held out a hand, and Mizrak reluctantly took it, dreading the stomach-churning mode of travel they’d used the night before.
***
“Well, well, well, look who’s decided to grace us with his presence,” Peter sneered, then sneezed.
Mizrak sat down on the outside of the group of former knights huddled into a corner; all of them were sniffling and sneezing, noses running and faces flushed with fever. They clung to each other in their attempts to stay warm in this chilly hall; the cold tile under them wasn’t helping.
Mizrak felt alone and rejected. The night before last, he’d been welcomed by the group as they huddled together, after he’d been released from his “training,” during which his rib was broken. But now, none of them moved to invite him in, likely in part due to how he stood out like a sore thumb even more than usual. They were grimy, sick, and still naked; here he was, clean, recovering, and … fully clothed would be a stretch, with only the nightshirt and belt, but it was far more clothing than any of them had.
“Or maybe I should say ‘her presence,’” Peter continued. “You look pretty without the beard, and now you’re even wearing a dress!”
“It’s not a dress, it’s a nightshirt,” Mizrak growled. “You should know that: your family’s rich enough to wear clothes made just for sleeping.” Whereas his parents, God rest their souls, had been dirt poor, giving Mizrak to the church at age ten when they’d no longer been able to feed him. They’d died a few winters later, cold and starving, while he was warm and fed under then-Brother Emmanuel’s care.
“Whatever. C’mon, let me blow my nose with it,” Peter taunted, reaching out. Mizrak didn’t move. He knew most of the other knights, noble-born as they were, regarded him as lesser, but he wasn’t going to submit to that sort of treatment.
Vampires wandered the room in their brightly colored silks, talking and laughing in small groups. Every so often, one of them would come over and grab a knight, drag him a few feet away to a clear space of floor, and fuck him. Most of them chose not to knot, and the knight soon crawled back to the group, shivering and sporting new bruises and abrasions.
//Mizrak, come here, please.// Mizrak started at hearing Olrox’s voice in his head. Looking around, he met the vampire’s eyes from where he sat with a group of vampires in a sitting area across the room. He rose with a sigh and walked over, standing in front of his current master. His turn to serve, he supposed.
“You see?” Olrox drawled to his companions, lounging on the couch like he owned it. “I don’t expect any of yours would come when you want them. Kneel, Mizrak.” Mizrak complied unhappily.
“Oh, how lovely, it comes when you call it, just like a dog,” one of the other vampires sneered. “Does it pant like a dog when you scratch its ears, too?”
Olrox laughed. “I doubt it, but let’s find out.” Uncrossing his legs and turning to stare at Mizrak, he said silently, //Lean against my leg, please.// Mizrak fought not to grind his teeth as he moved forward, daring to sit on one hip rather than continue kneeling on the hard floor. Olrox’s fingers in his hair didn’t feel awful, he supposed. Now that he’d recovered and his nose wasn’t full, he noticed that Olrox smelled faintly of vanilla and chilies, a much more pleasant smell than the flowery perfume every other vampire seemed to drench themselves in.
“No panting, but very obedient,” observed one of the women. “But why is obedience so important to you, Olrox? You could easily make him do whatever you wanted, no training necessary.”
“I prefer to keep fighting and fucking separate. That,” he gestured to the left where the Marquis had dragged Peter and was fucking his mouth. Peter kept pulling away, and the vampire kept dragging him back, expression darkening with anger. “Looks entirely unsatisfying.”
Some of the vampires laughed, which only made the Marquis angrier. After another few minutes of continued fighting, with Peter pulling away and gasping a breath before being yanked back, the vampire pulled away and backhanded Peter so hard that the crunch of his neck breaking was audible throughout the room.
Mizrak buried his face in Olrox’s leg, not wanting to look into Peter’s lifeless eyes where his body had slumped to the floor. In the sudden silence, he could hear the Marquis moving, a rustling like he was fixing his clothes and then a dull thump like he’d kicked Peter’s limp body. “You simply have to make slaves fear you,” he said into the silence. “No doubt the rest will toe the line, now that this one has been punished for his disobedience.”
“He wasn’t being disobedient!” Mizrak whispered, before freezing as the room filled with growls. Pulling his face from Olrox’s leg, he saw every red eye in the room trained on him. Damn vampire hearing!
“You little—” began the Marquis, stepping toward him.
Olrox leaned forward and snarled, “Lay a finger on my property, and I’ll tear your whole hand clean off!”
Other voices rose, until Báthory’s voice cut through them all with a cry of “Enough!” Sailing into view, the woman eyed Peter’s body with distaste before stepping over him. At a gesture, the vampires on the couch opposite Olrox’s rose, and Báthory seated herself, settling her voluminous skirts. “For all your talk of further training, Olrox, your pet speaks out of turn. How would that not be disobedience, a slave pulling away from his master?”
Mizrak looked up at Olrox, who instructed him, “Tell me.”
Gulping, Mizrak whispered, “He couldn’t breathe. They’re all still sick, their noses full. He was just trying to get air …” He shuddered at the murmurs from the other vampires.
Olrox guided him back to hiding his face, petting his hair. “I did notice the boy gasping each time he pulled away. Perhaps a reminder of how human bodies function would not go amiss, for some in this room,” he drawled.
“All my previous slaves managed just fine when I fucked their throats!” snapped the Marquis.
“Were they ill at the time, or were they able to breathe through their noses between thrusts?” Olrox inquired, smiling lazily.
“Am I supposed to ask slaves how they’re feeling before fucking them? He was functional!” the Marquis snapped.
Olrox’s mouth quirked as a sneeze rang out from the corner where the other slaves still huddled. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of asking you to converse with a mere human,” Olrox sneered. “But you could use your ears and make an educated guess. Though perhaps you haven’t received enough of an education to make such a guess?”
Báthory raised a hand to stop the Marquis’ retort. “Perhaps you understand the humans’ needs better than most, given your healing ability, Olrox. But Marquis, whether you understood the human’s lack of air or believed he was being disobedient, you have now killed your slave—the slave I gave you to breed. How many dhampir children should I expect from a corpse?” she asked pointedly.
“I apologize, my Lady, I meant no disrespect to you—” the Marquis began.
Báthory waved away his excuse. “I will not allow you to choose another, given your carelessness, or even partake of the free-use slaves. And I expect you to find another sturdy omega to replace him, for someone else to breed.”
“But my Lady, male omegas are rare and usually fragile!” the Marquis protested. “How am I to find an omega like these? Surely the machine—”
“Then bring me two betas to make the use of the machine worthwhile. Now go,” Báthory commanded. “And Olrox,” she continued, “teach your slave not to speak back to his betters. Especially if his training is causing delays in breeding him.”
“Of course,” Olrox said stiffly. “I’ll take my leave for tonight, if I may, and spend some time disciplining him until he remembers to speak only when spoken to.” It wasn’t really a question, but Báthory nodded her assent, and Olrox hauled Mizrak up and towards the door; then came the sickening feeling of travel again.
Mizrak scrambled away from Olrox, putting his back to a corner. “I didn’t mean to cause problems,” he gasped, hands raised to—to what, defend himself? What nonsense. He slid down the wall, shaking, and buried his face in his arms where they wrapped around his knees.
Olrox didn’t move for a long moment; when he did, Mizrak raised his head slightly to watch him. He stepped forward and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Mizrak. “I know,” he said quietly.
Mizrak waited for him to say something more, something about his punishment. But the vampire said nothing, just continued to meet his eyes calmly. The knight closed his own eyes, burying his face back in his arms as he began to weep as silently as he could. “I don’t want to die,” he gasped, shuddering at the memory of Peter’s slack face.
“I’m doing what I can to keep that from happening,” Olrox assured him. He reached out a hand and placed it on Mizrak’s ankle, squeezing gently. “I have no intention of punishing you for anything that happened tonight.”
Mizrak wept harder. He wanted … he desperately wanted to feel safe, even for a moment. But it felt like safety was so far out of reach just now …
Olrox moved in closer on his right, seemingly leaving his left side open for Mizrak to run, which made no sense. He reached an arm up slowly and wrapped it around Mizrak’s shoulders. The knight stayed stiff for a moment, then all but collapsed into Olrox, who wrapped both arms around him as he wailed his grief over the death of his brother-in-arms and his own uncertain future.
When he quieted, sideways in Olrox’s lap by this point and basking in the unusual warmth the vampire put out, Mizrak didn’t pull away. If a vampire wanted to offer comfort, who was he to turn it down, when he needed it so badly? He’d prefer to be huddled with his brethren—but they hadn’t welcomed him earlier in the evening. Now that one of them was dead, would they accept him to fill the empty space in the group, or would they continue to shun him for being so different? For having been chosen by a vampire who seemed to have such radical differences of opinion from the others of his kind, at least in private? If it was a ruse, it was a convincing one, from where Mizrak sat. Still …
“Why didn’t you heal them?” he rasped.
“There wasn’t time to heal him. He was already dead—” Olrox began, but Mizrak cut him off, leaning back to stare him in the eye.
“No, why didn’t you heal all of them? They’re sick! Peter died because—because …” He shuddered, and Olrox gently pulled him close again, tucking Mizrak’s head under the vampire’s chin.
“I can’t.” Perhaps feeling the protest rising in Mizrak’s chest, he clarified, “I don’t mean I’m not allowed to, or that it wouldn’t fit my persona. I mean I don’t know how.”
“But you know how to heal broken ribs and punctured lungs! How can you not? A cold must be so much easier—”
Olrox sighed. “The healing is … a recently acquired ability. I gained the power to give a body the energy and direction it needs to heal its own wounds—broken bones, damaged organs, lacerations, and so on. But I have to understand the anatomy in question to make the healing work. My first attempt at healing bone was … well, it went poorly. It healed crookedly, leaving it weakened with damaged nerves around it, and I had to go find a book to understand what it was supposed to look like, then rebreak the fellow’s arm to heal it properly. I’ve been learning as much of human anatomy as I can since then, but currently my skill is restricted to identifying what’s obviously out of place and putting it back.”
“Oh…” That explained last night, then, when Mizrak woke pressed against Olrox. He must’ve been trying to break Mizrak’s fever the old-fashioned way, using body heat.
“I’ll try to find a book that can explain how the body fights disease and see if I can learn to heal illnesses, but I doubt it will be as obvious as setting a bone or sealing an open wound. I may not be able to offer help with that for some time yet,” Olrox offered, seeming almost hesitant.
Mizrak turned his face further into Olrox’s chest, breathing in his vanilla-and-chilies scent and mumbling, “Thank you.” Olrox ran his fingers over Mizrak’s hair and hummed.
Notes:
Male and female omegas are fragile because they’re socially expected to be, not because they’re inherently weaker. Similarly, male and female alphas are aggressive because they’re encouraged to be, not just because of testosterone. Betas have a little more freedom from social expectations due to their sub-sex, so they “only” have to deal with the expectations of their sex/gender, rank, economic status, race, etc.
Also, alphas can choose whether they knot unless they’re in rut, which happens once a year, as opposed to omegas’ heats which occur every 3-4 months.
Chapter Text
They stayed like that for perhaps a quarter hour, by Mizrak’s guess. Then Mizrak’s stomach rumbled loudly, and Olrox chuckled. “Time to feed the ravening beast,” he joked, pulling Mizrak up with him as he stood. “I’ll be back in a moment.” He walked out the door, closing it behind him. Not turning into smoke might mean he was going somewhere in the same building, Mizrak supposed. But clearly, he was to remain here, given the closed door.
He moved to look at the books in the room. The one on the small table beside the overstuffed chair was written in a language Mizrak couldn’t read, though most of the letters were the same. Something Germanic, maybe? The books on the shelf were a mix of French, English, and Spanish; two had diagrams of parts of the human body. Olrox really was studying anatomy.
Outside the door, he heard Olrox’s amused voice saying, “I really am capable of carrying a tray, you know.”
A woman’s voice replied briskly, “As am I. But you’re welcome to open the door for me.”
The door opened to reveal a plump woman, gray-haired and wrinkled but still moving easily, carrying a tray with a soup tureen, an empty bowl with a spoon, and a round loaf of bread as wide across as his hand. Setting it down on the table in the eating area, she turned to Mizrak. “Let’s have a look at you, then,” she said, coming over to peer into Mizrak’s face. “You’re thinner than you should be, but you don’t look feverish anymore, which is good.”
“I told you earlier, his fever broke last night,” Olrox drawled. Mizrak shot him a glance where he leaned against the wall by the door, and he shrugged. “Madame, this is Mizrak. Mizrak, may I introduce Madame Duval. Officially she's the cook; unofficially, she runs most of the house.”
Madame Duval replied, “Yes, you said his fever broke, but I wanted to confirm that for myself.” Patting Mizrak’s cheek, she told him, “He’s new at this, still learning. It took him three tries to fix Bertrand’s arm, you know.” Mizrak stared between them, bewildered.
“Two,” Olrox countered, feigning exasperation but still smiling. “And I shall never hear the end of it.”
“Pssh,” she said, waving her hand at him. “Now Master Olrox, you need to find him more than a nightshirt to run around in, or he’ll catch cold again!”
Olrox nodded. “I’d appreciate your help with that, actually. Your previous master had a narrower frame, and my own is still not as broad as Mizrak’s. None of my clothes would fit him, which means searching through the other closets on this floor is pointless. Honestly, I’m surprised the nightshirt fit!”
Madam Duval harumphed. “The old bastard swam in it, that’s how it fits. I’ll ask below stairs and see what we can find. And you,” she said, turning back to Mizrak, who was beginning to feel distinctly overwhelmed, “anything you need, ring the bell over yonder and someone will come up.” She pointed to a bellpull next to the bed, which Mizrak hadn’t noticed before, given how neatly it blended into the wallpaper. “Now eat hearty! Put some meat back on those bones!” And off she bustled, queen of all she surveyed.
Olrox sighed on seeing Mizrak’s wide-eyed look and guided him to sit. “I was hoping to let you settle in another day or two before you met the force of nature known as Madame Duval. Unfortunately, she was still awake and working in the kitchen when I went down, and she insisted. Eat.” When Mizrak didn’t move, Olrox ladled a rich stew into the bowl and handled it to him.
Mizrak took a hesitant sip of broth, at which point his body reminded him how hungry he was. He wolfed down the first bowl, half the loaf of bread, and most of a second bowl of stew before he even looked up from the food.
Olrox had returned to the armchair and his book. He told Mizrak, “When you finish, you should go bathe, then head to bed. You need your rest, since you’re still recovering.”
Mizrak nodded slowly. Mopping up the last of his stew with the remaining bread, he stood and asked, “Where should I …?” gesturing to the remnants of the meal. Leaving a towel on the floor as an act of rebellion was one thing; leaving food out to attract pests was something else entirely.
“Put it on the hearth to keep warm, in case you want more later,” Olrox replied, pointing to where the broth had been set the night before. “Madame Duval will collect it next time she comes up, but that won’t be until midmorning at the earliest. She may just wait until we leave in the evening, if she doesn’t find another reason to come upstairs.”
Mizrak nodded again and headed for the bathing room. It took a moment of trial and error to figure out the knobs controlling the water temperature; the stopper, at least, was self-explanatory. Mizrak sank into the hot bath and let a few more tears fall, exhausted and grieving. He wished Peter was still alive, no matter how obnoxious the man usually was. They’d already lost two knights during the “training” process, and now a third …
He didn’t spend as long soaking tonight, lest he fall asleep and drown. A fresh towel awaited him on the bar, just as soft as the one from the previous night. He left the dirt-stained nightshirt and belt on the floor, unsure where else to put them, but neatly hung the towel back on its bar, respecting what must be Madame Duval’s efforts to keep the room tidy.
Slipping back into the room and climbing into the large, comfortable bed, Mizrak waited for sleep, but it eluded him as his thoughts went round and round. How far could he trust Olrox? He trusted the vampire more than the others in Báthory’s court, but was that wise? But who else could he rely on? Trusting no one wasn’t as simple as it first sounded, leading only to constant anxiety. He needed someone to lean on in the worst times, as others had occasionally leaned on him in the past. Would Olrox support him, or would he end up letting Mizrak fall, laughing cruelly at the knight’s naivete? But what else could he do?
At Mizrak’s tired groan, Olrox looked up from his book. “Did you need something?” he asked, voice concerned.
“A new brain,” Mizrak muttered. “One that shuts up when I tell it to sleep.”
Olrox grinned widely and opened his mouth—then abruptly closed it again, face sobering. After a moment, he admitted, “An acquaintance of mine—perhaps you could even call him a friend—used to say something very similar. I’m afraid the methods we employed to distract each other would be unwelcome just now, though. Is there anything I can get you?”
Mizrak shook his head, miserable. “No. My brethren—but they didn’t want me there earlier. I just—” he groaned again, burying his face in the soft pillow.
Olrox looked at him thoughtfully. “Would it make you feel better or worse,” he said slowly, “if I lay down beside you?”
Mizrak fought with himself for a breath before blurting, “Better. Please?” He cringed at the almost-whine in his voice.
Olrox put his book aside and moved to the bathing room. He emerged wearing the same simple loose tunic and trousers as he’d worn the night before. Slipping into the bed, he lay on his back, then told Mizrak, “How much contact we have is up to you. Move me however you want me.”
Mizrak flushed hot with embarrassment, especially when he remembered he was naked under the sheet. But he rolled onto his side and pulled at Olrox until the vampire was wrapped around him, hesitating with each movement, worrying it would be too much, too far. But when at last he lay snug in Olrox’s embrace, surrounded by his scent, his muscles went limp, tension fleeing the fibers like a deer flees from the hunter’s hounds.
As he slid into sleep, he heard Olrox murmur, “Sleep well, my knight.”
***
Mizrak gasped awake from a nightmare of being fucked to death on top of a pile of corpses. He curled closer to the vampire, who appeared to be sleeping, and tried to breathe slowly and deeply to calm his body and mind. It wasn’t working; his muscles stayed tense, desperate to move. At last, he slid out of both Olrox’s embrace and the bed, moving to the window and pulling aside the curtain the barest sliver to peer out at the world beyond.
Mid-afternoon sunlight fell on a landscape he wasn’t familiar with, so they must not be in Machecoul anymore. But there was a lane passing his vantage point boasting the occasional cart or carriage, enough traffic that whatever this building was, it must be built at the edge of a village or small town. In the distance he could see farmers working in their fields, foresters hauling wagons of wood to be sold, and closer by, a young woman beating out a rug. When she finished, she hauled the rug over her shoulder and headed straight toward the building underneath him: there must be a door below. Perhaps she was a servant of the house? Olrox and Madame Duval had referred to another person; there might well be more.
Calmer now, he let the curtain fall back into place and turned toward the bed, startling when he saw two vibrant green eyes staring at him. Suddenly remembering he stood naked, he quickly returned to the bed and pulled the sheet over his lap, though he didn’t lie down again or move closer to the vampire.
They sat in silence for a few minutes until Olrox asked, “What troubles you, Mizrak?”
Mizrak’s thoughts flew back to the nightmare, and he shook his head as if to cast out the images. “Nothing,” he denied. “Just couldn’t sleep any longer.”
Olrox’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t argue. Rolling to lie on his back with his hands behind his head, he said, “We still have a few hours until sundown, when we’ll have to prepare for court. If you’re hungry, you could ring for the servants and ask them to bring you something.”
Mizrak shook his head. He would be hungry soon enough, but just now his stomach was quiet, and he didn’t want to deal with any more people yet. Madame Duval had been kind, but everything had been changing so fast that he hadn’t had time to wrap his head around it. And with the way the other vampires had acted last night, he wouldn’t get it.
“You should fuck me,” he blurted, then flinched.
Olrox stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“You should—the other vampires—you not having fucked me draws attention, and—” Mizrak broke off, frustrated. Couldn’t his mind settle long enough for him to convey a thought? He buried his face in his palm, fingers gripping his hair.
Olrox sat up slowly and rested his left hand on Mizrak’s shoulder. “Breathe,” he murmured. “Let the words come when they’re ready. We have plenty of time.”
“No, we don’t!” Mizrak snapped, then cringed, but Olrox didn’t move to strike him. Instead, he gently pulled Mizrak’s hair free from his clenched fingers and smoothed it down. Drawing breath, Mizrak continued in a more subdued tone, “They didn’t seem happy about the training being the reason you hadn’t already tried to breed me. And they expected you to punish me last night—if I show up uninjured—”
“Wouldn’t I have healed you?” Olrox interrupted.
“If you broke bones, maybe, or if I was bleeding heavily, but bruises? What’s the point of a punishment if the lesson doesn’t stick?” Mizrak dropped his hands to look at Olrox, who looked distinctly unhappy.
“I’m not going to beat you just to satisfy those brutes,” Olrox growled.
“Then fuck me!” Mizrak snarled back, eyes wet. He didn’t want this, but Olrox had been right, before: if Olrox didn’t keep Báthory’s favor, Mizrak’s lot would get so much worse.
Olrox should his head slowly. “No,” he said quietly, then turned away, moving to get out of bed.
“Fuck me, or kill me,” Mizrak ground out. “Either would hurt less if you were the one to do it.” At least, he hoped so.
Olrox turned back to him, eyes wide, then crawled across the mattress and pulled him into an embrace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how afraid you are. We’ll figure this out, I promise,” he murmured, running his hand soothingly up and down the knight’s bare back. Mizrak went limp in his arms, letting out a sob as tears streamed down his cheeks. The vampire continued to hold him close until his tears stopped.
Pulling away only far enough to meet Mizrak’s eyes, he soothed, “I can handle the other vampires, I promise you. But if it would make you feel more secure, I could masturbate in the bathing room, then smear some of my seed on your thighs. They would all believe I’d fucked you, then.”
Mizrak shook his head. “And when I don’t fall pregnant, then what? And what will you do when I go into—” Mizrak broke off to force the bile back down. He would give anything to never go into heat again. Begging to be fucked while loathing every touch … he would rather die.
Olrox guided Mizrak’s face to nestle into his throat, holding him firmly. “There are herbs to prevent heat. Tell me when you’ll need them, and I’ll find some. Let them think you were pregnant and miscarried—it’s common for omega males. I won’t make you suffer a heat when there are other options.”
Mizrak shuddered. “They’d want me punished for losing it,” he whispered. Why didn’t Olrox see that the only way for him to be safe was if he was carrying a child, no matter how much he loathed the idea?
Olrox sat silently for several minutes, still petting Mizrak’s hair but clearly thinking hard. Finally, he sighed. “There is an option,” he said slowly, “that might meet all the criteria we’ve set, but I don’t know that you’d like it any better.” When Mizrak remained silent, he continued, “My other form is a quetzalcoatl, a feathered serpent. Quetzalcoatl was a god of my people, a god of wind and of knowledge. He was also a god of the sun, believed to have been the sun during the second world, whereas we now live in the fifth.”
“How exactly does that help?” Mizrak grumbled.
“I’m getting there. I’ve never done this myself, but I’ve sired fledgling vampires who inherited the form and went on to try it. They told me about it in letters, so I understand how it would work—”
Olrox, Mizrak realized, was babbling. Was the vampire nervous? The knight leaned back, look Olrox dead in the eye, and told him, “Spit it out.”
“Eggs!” Olrox blurted, then winced. Speaking more calmly, he continued, “Quetzalcoatl are hermaphroditic, so I can produce eggs, then insert them into you while I’m in serpent form. You would incubate them, during which time you would be safe. There would be no heat involved; you wouldn’t be using those parts at all, since the eggs would sit in the bottom of your intestinal tract. And at the end of everything, we would presumably have several children—usually there are two to four eggs in a clutch. You would be busy enough with them—we both would be—that Báthory might not push for you to be bred again for some months, at least.”
Mizrak stared at him. “You would lay eggs … in my ass?” he asked.
Olrox nodded. “Yes. As far as the timeline goes, you’d incubate the eggs for two to three months, then lay them. Over the course of a few hours, they’d rip their way out of their shells. They usually remain in snake form for a few months before shifting to their dhampir bodies for the first time.”
“So at the end of everything, we’d have more than a single child. Without trying over and over for me to get pregnant, only to potentially lose it and have to try again.” That would be a relief, Mizrak thought. Being bred once and having it over with was infinitely preferable to weeks or months of torment just trying to conceive.
They sat in silence for a while longer, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Olrox stirred and said, “I assume you’ll need time to think about this—”
“No,” Mizrak interrupted. “Even if it’s terrible, it’s only a few months. I’d prefer that. When can we start?”
Olrox hummed. “It’ll take a few days for me to prepare. And my fledglings never mentioned their partners being in pain, so I don’t think it will be anywhere near terrible. Possibly uncomfortable, though.”
“All right,” he murmured. “I can live with that.”
Olrox pursed his lips. “A ringing endorsement,” he drawled. “I didn’t plan to have children anytime soon, but I had hoped my partner and I would both be enthusiastic about it. I could hate Báthory for this alone.”
“But there are so many other reasons to choose from,” Mizrak joked weakly. He himself could think of four or five off the top of his head.
Olrox chuckled darkly. “Indeed, I’m quite spoiled for choice on why to hate her.” Glancing at the clock, he changed topics. “You’ll need to call for food now, so the servants have a chance to prepare it. Once you’ve finished eating and dressed, it will be about time to leave.”
“Is there something clean I can put on?” Mizrak asked. “The floors in that ballroom are filthy, and I didn’t want to smear dirt all over the bedsheets. But I would prefer not to speak with anyone else while naked.”
“The nightshirt has probably been washed by now; I threw it outside the door earlier. But I think there was a dressing gown that might work …” Rising and rifling through one chest, then the other, Olrox pulled out a brocade robe and brought it to Mizrak. The sleeves and shoulders were too tight to be truly comfortable, but it did close in the front—if only just barely, and only if he didn’t move from the seat he’d taken at the table. “Perhaps Madame Duval will have found something else by now.” The vampire reached up and pulled the bell’s cord, and Mizrak heard a jangling sound elsewhere in the house.
After a few minutes, a knock sounded on the door, and Olrox called, “Come in” from where he sat pulling on his boots. The servant girl Mizrak had seen earlier through the window entered and curtseyed. “Something we can get for you, Master Olrox, Mister Mizrak?”
“Amelia, could you bring Mizrak a meal? And ask Madame Duval if she’s found any of the clothing she was looking for, please. I’m going out for about an hour, after which we’ll head out for the evening.”
Amelia giggled. “Hungry tonight, are we, Master Olrox? You certainly didn’t hunt for long last night. Got to keep your strength up!” Turning to Mizrak, she told him, “Madame Duval was anticipating you needing something to eat before long, so I’ll bring it up soon as it’s done. And I think she found some of Mister Thomas’ old clothes, they’re a bit worn but should work ‘til the tailor can come round, think she said he had time tomorrow. I’ll be back shortly!” And she dashed out of the room.
Mizrak was flummoxed. She didn’t seem bothered at all by the idea of a vampire feeding! This house seemed stranger every time he met someone new in it, including Olrox.
Speak of the devil, Olrox had finished putting on his tailcoat and cravat and stood fiddling with his cuffs. “I won’t be going far,” he mentioned. “Call for me if there’s any sort of trouble or if you need me, I should return within a minute.”
Mizrak nodded and watched him leave. He didn’t dare get up from the table yet, lest he was improperly covered when Amelia returned. He instead spent the time watching the hands of the grandfather clock move and listening to its gentle ticking.
Notes:
Mizrak is chronically touch-starved, briefly got used to the huddle of knights, and is now floundering. Olrox isn’t actually much better, just has many more years of hiding it.
Chapter 4
Notes:
[CW: referenced miscarriage, referenced miscarriage of a rapist’s baby]
Chapter Text
Amelia returned with a heavy tray in her hands and a bundle trapped between her body and her left elbow. Setting down the tray, she handed him the bundle, saying, “Some of these should fit you. Go try ’em on, I’ll wait and take back whatever doesn’t fit. Mister Thomas don’t need ’em, he got smaller now he’s old, but waste not, want not.”
Mizrak carefully held the bundle in front of his waist, ensuring everything below the belt would be adequately covered, and retreated to the bathing room. Unrolling the bundle, he found a tunic, trousers, braies, and two pairs of thick socks, in addition to the cleaned nightshirt. The tunic ended up being too tight in the shoulders, but the braies and trousers fit well enough, and the socks were warm and comfortable on his feet. As far as covering his torso, the nightshirt would have to do for now. The dressing gown he left in the bathing room, over the bar next to the towel.
He carried the tunic back out to Amelia with his thanks. Taking a seat, he asked, “Would you sit and talk with me while I eat?” Despite how quickly she spoke, her presence was less overwhelming than Madame Duval’s, though in future years she might become even more intimidating. And he hated the idea of being alone just now.
“Course! I’m always happy to sit and talk!” She pulled the second chair out and settled herself comfortably. “What d’you want to talk about?”
“Could you tell me more about Olrox?” Mizrak asked hesitantly. “I barely know him, but you and Madame Duval seem to know him well enough to be fond of him.”
“Sure, I’ll tell you how he came to be Master here! It was one of the best nights of my life, for all it started out so bad!” she chirped.
“A few months back, an alpha came across me in pre-heat, and since he was a baron and the Lord of the house here, no one blinked when he dragged me into his bed. I was terrified, but after the heat passed, he lost interest and let me go, and the baker I was apprenticed under didn’t say a word about me having been gone. I didn’t feel any different the first few weeks, thought I’d gotten away without getting pregnant, and I was right relieved. Too soon, though, because then the morning sickness started. Only it was morning, noon, and night.
“Long story short, the baker threw me out, said he wasn’t running a charity for unwed mothers as wouldn’t even work—but I didn’t want to vomit on the bread we was making! Anyhow, no job and no home, I didn’t know what else to do, so I came here, hoping the Lord might give me a place, least ‘til I had the babe.
“Thomas let me in, and the baron met me in the front hall, but when he found out I was carrying his child, he started yelling about how he weren’t having a bastard with some slut. I was backing toward the door, thinking I could get outside and come up with something else. But then he came at me with a knife, saying he’d cut it out of me.”
Mizrak had stopped eating several minutes before, listening to the girl’s story in horror. “And then?” he asked worriedly. “Did you escape?”
Amelia shook her head. “No, I had my hand on the frame of the open door when he drove the knife in me. Fell to the floor screaming, the other servants came running, he was still yelling about not letting a slut disgrace his family name. And this stranger walked in, calm as you please, and knocked the knife out of the baron’s hand. Olrox, obviously. Told him if he don’t want bastards, he should only sleep with a wife, if any woman would have him.
“The baron was so angry, started swinging at Olrox, who just kept moving out of the way. Screaming about how he’s going to kill him and feed him to the dogs. And then he said he’d kill me next—and Olrox grabbed him and started sucking all his blood out. I didn’t realize he was a vampire ‘til then.
“Anyhow, I was still bleeding at this point, not gushing blood but it weren’t good. And when Olrox dropped the Lord’s corpse and turned to me, I was thinking, ‘Well, I’m still dying today, just might go a little faster with two more holes in me.’ Only he put a hand on the wound, and it hurt like anything, and then I was fine!
“And he told me I’d live, but he was sorry he wasn’t able to save the baby, it was already dead when he arrived. And I said, ‘Good, I didn’t want a baby with him anyway.’ And he said, ‘Oh! Then congratulations, you’re not pregnant anymore.’ And I burst into tears, I was so relieved. Scared him good!” she laughed.
“Madam Duval stepped forward and asked what he planned to do with the servants, and Olrox said he didn’t have plans. So Madame Duval said the baron had no heirs, so he might as well take the title. Think it would normally go to a relative or another noble, but …” she shrugged. “Not so many of those around anymore.
“Olrox tried to say he didn’t want it, and she told him that they’d all be out on the street in the snow if he didn’t take it, because nobody would let servants keep all this. And he grumbled but accepted, told them to keep doing what they were doing before to keep the house up, and he’d raise their wages and try to stay out of the way. Only would Madame Duval find a place for me, if I wanted to stay? And we’ve all be muddling along ever since!
“Now you better get to eating, or I’ll be in trouble with Madame Duval. She don’t hold with talking before eating, you know!” she said with a laugh.
Mizrak turned back to his food and devoured it, thinking. He would’ve said the tale was romanticized by a frightened young girl, before … everything. Now … he did have to admit that it sounded like the vampire he’d been getting to know. As violent as all vampires are, when there was need, but not interested in allowing unnecessary abuse.
“Thank you for telling me that,” he said after he’d finished his food. “That was exactly what I wanted to know.”
“Course, any time!” Amelia curtseyed and took the tray and tunic out, passing Olrox with a cheerful nod as he entered.
“Making friends?” the vampire asked warmly. He didn’t have any blood around his mouth this time; perhaps he’d already cleaned up.
“I think so. Before we go, could you … the smell, like we talked about before? So they think you …” Why couldn’t he talk about this now? He wasn’t a virgin, and he’d managed to talk coherently enough before!
Olrox understood his clumsy request, at least. “Of course. Give me a moment, and then we’ll leave once you’re properly protected from prying noses.” Mizrak relaxed, and Olrox gave him a small smile. “What I can do to make you as comfortable as possible, I’ll do.”
“Thank you.”
***
Mizrak was grateful Olrox hadn’t asked him to take off the newly acquired clothes. An oncoming storm had made the mostly empty hall even colder than normal, and he would've been beyond miserable without the additional clothing, especially the socks. Instead, he’d just be uncomfortably chilled.
Olrox noted his shiver and pulled Mizrak over to one of the unoccupied sitting areas with him. Gesturing for Mizrak to wait, he walked over to one of the tapestries on the wall that depicted Joan of Arc leading troops into battle. With a sharp yank, Olrox ripped it from its moorings, dragged it over to Mizrak, and draped the fabric over him before sitting down. The fabric was rough and smelled musty, but Mizrak burrowed into it gladly. Olrox began absently petting his hair as they waited.
It was another half hour before the doors into the rest of the chateau opened, admitting Báthory and her court like a colorful swarm of bloodthirsty butterflies. Mizrak noted that his fellows were all but dragged in and dumped in the corner they’d made their own. None of them seemed fully awake or aware of their surroundings; all of them had paler skin than the night before, except for their rosy cheeks and foreheads.
“Ah, Olrox. You really should take rooms here: you missed the most delightful entertainment this afternoon,” Drolta told him, settling on the couch opposite. Her face and hands were covered with streaks and spots of blood. More than one person must’ve died violently, if she was too full to lick up the leftover blood.
“I can tell. But I prefer to have privacy and space to hunt in my serpent form, so I’m afraid I’ll continue to miss events during the day,” Olrox drawled. His hand in Mizrak’s hair stilled, but his palm remained resting on the crown of his head.
Drolta pursed her lips and hummed, dissatisfied. Glancing down at Mizrak, she commented, “So you’ve made at least some use of him, now. My mistress will be pleased. Was being fucked his punishment?”
“On the contrary, it was his reward for accepting his punishment without struggling,” Olrox retorted.
“What was his punishment, then?” asked Báthory; Drolta ceded the couch to the countess, choosing an armchair to settle in as other court hangers-on drifted over to listen to the conversation.
“Fifty lashes. All healed now, of course: I prefer not to add further scars to his skin without a better reason than a single punishment,” Olrox lied, quite believably if Mizrak was any judge.
Drolta certainly seemed to believe it. “He didn’t struggle at all, through that many lashes? Perhaps I should choose a beta knight for myself, next time I find one. They’re clearly sturdier than most humans, even beyond what we were looking for with breeding capability. Though he seems to be the sturdiest of the current lot,” she said, glaring toward the corner where the others huddled.
Báthory seemed less pleased. “And you continue to reward him with clothing, and then rip tapestries off the wall to wrap him in? You don’t worry you’ll spoil him with such coddling?”
Olrox chuckled. “Oh, it’s hardly coddling. The other breeding slaves certainly seem unprepared to deal with the lower temperatures tonight. Do you perhaps remember suffering from the cold in your early life, before you became more than a mere human, or even most vampires, could aspire to be?”
“You flatter well. Perhaps you’d like to offer our Messiah a gift, by healing those slaves of their little colds?” Drolta asked pointedly. “A show of loyalty never hurts, especially after you refused the brand.”
“As I told you before, there would be little point to the brand: even if I deliberately didn’t heal it in this form, the next time I changed back from my serpent form, it would be gone,” he reminded Drolta. Turning to Báthory, he said, “As for healing the other slaves, I would be delighted to, if that was something my ability permitted. Unfortunately, I can only heal injuries; illnesses are outside the scope of my power.”
“But you healed your own slave,” the Marquis said tightly, standing on the outer edge of the group of observers. “He isn’t ill.”
Olrox shot the Marquis an amused glance, fingers beginning once again to stroke over Mizrak’s hair. “On the contrary, he healed himself. I merely provided the warmth and fluids necessary for his body to perform the task. And that’s why I found clothing for him, to keep him warm enough even in this half-frozen hall, at least most days. Though back to your earlier point, Drolta, I could be convinced to heal any frostbitten fingers or toes the other slaves develop.” Mizrak hoped that was an exaggeration—it felt cold in the hall, but surely it wasn’t that cold.
Báthory hummed her understanding, then turned to the Marquis. “Have your servants light a fire in one of the hearths, and bring blankets, fur rugs, and cloaks to pile in front of it.” Turning back to Olrox, she asked, “As the expert on humans, anything more you would recommend?”
Olrox nodded to her, suggesting, “That will certainly be sufficient to maintain their health. For tonight, an extra meal of broth, to warm them quickly and provide fuel, would help them heal more rapidly.”
“See it done,” ordered Báthory, and the Marquis slunk away to summon his servants. “And so long as the hall is kept warmer, I trust you’ll leave the other tapestries where they are?” she asked in a teasing tone.
Olrox bowed his head in a respectful nod, smiling. “Gladly. Interior design is not my forte, so I’ll leave that to others.” As servants came in with firewood and blankets, Olrox guided Mizrak’s chin up so he could meet the vampire’s eyes. “You may sit near the fire. Give the tapestry to one of the servants so they can rehang it.” //And you may help your brethren, if you like, for as long as we’re here tonight,// he added silently.
Mizrak nodded and rose, dragging the heavy tapestry with him. Handing it off to a servant who had just deposited an armful of firewood next to the hearth, he headed for the corner where the other slaves huddled and pulled the youngest, Eric, to his feet, guiding him to sit in front of the now-blazing fire.
He spent the rest of the night ensuring his brothers-in-arms were warm enough and helping them drink the broth that arrived some time later. Olrox continued chatting with the other vampires, though Mizrak began to suspect that he was quickly tiring of their company.
At last, when the last slave had been fed and wrapped in warm blankets and furs in front of the hearth, Olrox rose, turning to face Mizrak. //Time to go.// Mizrak nodded and rose, padding across the tiles in his sock feet. Olrox wrapped an arm around his waist, and the world blurred.
Chapter Text
After he’d eaten and bathed, Mizrak lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Olrox was performing his own ablutions before he would join Mizrak. The knight shifted uneasily, thinking about the question that had been bothering him for the past hour.
When Olrox emerged, Mizrak blurted, “How big is it?”
Olrox blinked at him. “I’m afraid you’re going to need to provide a little more context for that question. How big is what?”
“Your … your other form.” That wasn’t really the specific measurement he’d been wondering about, but maybe it would be a better place to start.
Olrox sat on the bed next to him. “About the length of the ballroom Báthory holds court in. And the larger portions of my body, closer to my head, are about three times the width of your shoulders in diameter, though of course that narrows approaching my tail.”
Mizrak gulped. “And is everything … proportional?”
Olrox laughed. “Are you asking if my cocks are proportional to my body the way snakes’ cocks are to theirs? I’m afraid I’ve never studied snakes enough to know.”
Mizrak felt his face burning as he turned away. “Never mind.”
Olrox’s hand landed on his shoulder and gently pulled until he was lying on his back again. “I’m sorry I laughed. I was just surprised. But I promise I’m not mocking you. What are you worrying about?” His green eyes were kind, and his brow was furrowed in concern.
Mizrak inhaled shakily, then said, “I don’t … understand how you would fit. And … you said cocks? There are two?”
Olrox lay down on his side, hand propping his head up as he watched Mizrak. “Yes, that much is certainly similar to garden variety snakes. But you wouldn’t have to take both at once: one will insert the eggs, the other will contain my semen. It won’t fertilize them, since that will already have happened, but it will form a protective barrier which will prevent them from passing too soon. They can also absorb some of their nutrients from it. As for size, each cock is about the length and width of my fist and forearm,” he explained, holding his arm out for the knight to see.
Mizrak’s eyes widened. “Even one would tear me in half!” he cried, sitting up and pulling away. “There’s no way—”
“I promise you, I will not hurt you,” Olrox soothed, laying his hand on Mizrak’s back. “It will take diligent preparation, but it will fit without tearing you.”
“How would that not be excruciating?” Mizrak asked, as he turned to face the vampire again. “Even if I didn’t tear, my body would still fight an intrusion that large!”
Olrox studied him for a moment in silence, then asked, “I realize we haven’t discussed your level of experience. Had you ever had sex with a man before Báthory arrived?”
Before everything changed, he meant. Before … that. “Yes, but why is that relevant?”
“I’m getting there, just trust me,” Olrox insisted. “Were you ever penetrated?”
Mizrak shook his head. “No, not really. The rare times a partner and I had time for anything more than frotting in a dark corner, they wanted me to fuck them. Once, someone stuck a finger up my ass while he was sucking me, but I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Was the finger properly lubricated?” Olrox asked. “Did the person know where to find your prostate? And did you ever finger a partner to prepare them?”
Mizrak shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t dripping, but it wasn’t dry, either. I assume he knew generally where it is, given how eager he was for me to hit it while I fucked him. And no, they did that while I barricaded the door, in case someone tried to enter.” The hazards of living in a church—knocking was polite, but superiors didn’t always bother, and being caught lying with another man would have resulted in both of them being thrown out.
“So, it’s possible you would enjoy penetration, but it’s also possible you would loathe it, even when done correctly,” Olrox mused. “Adding in the sizing issue, that could make the insertion of the eggs overwhelming in an enjoyable way, or in a distinctly unpleasant sense. We can experiment together, if you like, to determine that ahead of time and prepare accordingly.”
“Or I could stick a finger up my own ass,” Mizrak answered. “What difference does it make?”
“Potentially a significant one. I would be able to reach better, without bending my wrist in an awkward manner as you would be forced to do, so the sensation would be more controlled. And if you’re not sure how much lubrication to use, we should at least discuss that before you do anything—dryer penetration is nearly always a bad idea.”
Mizrak hummed his understanding. “I’d like to think about it,” he murmured. Did he trust Olrox, when he would be in such a vulnerable position? The vampire had already had plenty of chances to force the issue, but would this be a situation of giving an inch, taking a league?
“Of course. Nothing has to be decided right now. And it’s been a long night—you need to sleep,” Olrox responded.
Mizrak wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep, with everything he was thinking about, but he lay down to try, at least. Olrox blew out the candle on the bedside table, leaving the room lit only by the glow of the fire. Once the knight was wrapped securely in the vampire’s arms and surrounded by his scent, he found his mind and body relaxing. Perhaps he would be able to sleep, after all.
***
When Mizrak woke mid-afternoon, Olrox wasn’t in the room; given the warmth that lingered on the bed next to him, the vampire hadn’t been gone long. When he sat up, he saw a pile of clothing on the table, with a piece of paper placed on top.
The note read, “The tailor came early, and I didn’t want to wake you. He brought these based on the dimensions of what Madame Duval had found for you. If they fit to your liking, I’ll have several more sets made. If there are any adjustments you want, I can pass those along. O.”
Usually the rich were the only ones who could afford more than two full sets of clothing; for everyone else, if two full sets existed, the better of the two was saved for high holy days or events like weddings. But Olrox planned on giving him several sets? How odd. Then again, his clothing kept picking up startling amounts of grime from the chateau’s ballroom floor—did they never clean it? Perhaps Olrox wanted him to remain neat and presentable without making the servants wash his clothing every day while he sat shivering, waiting for them.
A black tunic and gray trousers made his throat tight, remembering what he used to wear as a knight, but he thrust the thought from his mind. Those times were gone now, possibly forever. The braies, socks, and outerwear all fit well, though he might mention to Olrox that if he regained any of his former muscle mass, the tunic would become too tight. He couldn’t be sure if the vampire would even care about that, though, given that Mizrak currently didn’t have equipment with which to train or the space to practice forms without tripping over something.
Mizrak grabbed one of the anatomy books and flipped through the pages idly to look at the diagrams of bones and muscles. He had to admit, when he wasn't terrified out of his mind, he was dreadfully bored, stuck in this room all day and in the chateau at night.
“If you tell me what you like to read, I could find something more to your taste,” Olrox murmured from the doorway, startling Mizrak into dropping the book. When had Olrox arrived? Flustered, he picked it back up and placed it on the shelf, deciding that Olrox must have entered the room in smoke form, since surely he would’ve heard the door.
“I don’t—didn’t usually have an opportunity to read anything but the bible,” Mizrak said curtly.
“Would you like me to bring you a copy?” Olrox asked. At Mizrak’s side-eye, he laughed. “I won’t burst into flame from touching one, I assure you.”
Mizrak hesitated a moment, then replied with a quiet, “No.” What was the point? His soul was already lost, sold to a demon and utterly beyond redemption, courtesy of Emmanuel’s actions. “Thank you for the offer,” he added, belatedly remembering his manners.
Olrox nodded, brow furrowed. “Is there anything else I can get you? I don’t want your mind to waste away while your health improves.”
Mizrak let out a bark of bitter laughter. “A sword to practice with would be nice, but I won’t hold my breath.” When Olrox hummed his understanding but said nothing else, the knight sighed. “I need to move, to do something. I feel like a rat in a cage.”
“My plan was to wait until the tailor brings the rest of the clothing and a pair of boots, but you’re free to wander the rest of the house,” Olrox offered.
Mizrak, startled, asked, “You don’t care if I don’t stay in this room? You always closed the door behind you, I just assumed …”
Olrox shook his head. “I wanted you to stay here while you were recovering, and while you don’t have enough clothing to keep you both decent and warm enough. I would ask that you don’t leave this house, since both of us will be in danger if someone sees you out without me. You can do whatever else you like, though. I believe one of the rooms has swords mounted on the wall, though they may be decorative and not properly balanced.”
“Thank you,” Mizrak breathed. To be somewhere other than this room or that damned vampiric hellhole of a chateau!
Olrox stepped away from the door. “You can begin exploring now, if you like. Though you slept a little later today, so we only have an hour and a half before we need to leave for court, and you’ll need to eat.”
Thinking of court, Mizrak’s excitement ebbed. “Have you told Báthory you’ll be laying eggs in me?” he asked slowly.
“Not yet,” Olrox admitted. “I wanted to give you a little longer to consider it fully; given your questions last night, you have been thinking about it. Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”
Mizrak took a deep breath and said, “I’d like to … try the fingering. With you.” If he was going to trust Olrox to put eggs in him, he could trust him with this. And if anything went wrong now, he’d know for the future.
“All right. When?” Olrox asked.
Mizrak swallowed. “Now,” he croaked. “And then you can put your seed on me like last night.” Assuming he hadn’t just forced his way in and spent inside Mizrak, at least. He didn’t think the vampire would do that, but …
“All right. Undress as much as you’re comfortable with and lie down. I’ll be back in a moment,” Olrox murmured, then left the room.
Mizrak wondered if there was a point in keeping any of his clothing on. It might make him feel safter in some ways, he supposed. On the other hand, Olrox had already seen all of him, more than once, and the point of this was to build trust while finding out if he could stand anything being inserted into his ass. He stripped to his skin and curled up under the sheet, watching the door.
Olrox returned holding a small vial. Removing his shoes and stockings, he approached the bed wearing tunic and trousers. “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked gently. Mizrak nodded, and he continued, “If that changes at any time, tell me to stop, and I will. I’ll also tell you what I plan to do before I do it, and I’ll be asking regularly if you want to continue. If you don’t want this, we stop.”
“Why do you care?” Mizrak asked in a small voice, cringing at how pathetic he sounded. “They never did.”
Olrox huffed. “Honestly, most of them seem to have devolved since becoming vampires. Anything they want, they take immediately. They no longer have any concept of delayed gratification, and they don’t care what more they might miss out on when they’re so busy sating their basest needs.
“I prefer to savor my pleasures. To enjoy the process as much as the end goal, and to connect to the people—well, some of the people around me,” he explained. After Mizrak stared at him a moment, uncomprehending, he offered, “You’re a very attractive man, Mizrak, and not just physically. Your determination and your compassion burn brightly in you—I can see it in your eyes. If we’d first met … perhaps as you practiced your swordsmanship in a courtyard, while I was trying to learn what was happening in Machecoul? I would’ve flirted, then invited you to continue whatever discussion we’d been involved in ‘somewhere more comfortable,’ in the hopes of getting you into my bed. And I would’ve kept coming back, like a moth to your flame.”
Mizrak flushed. “Very poetic. But that’s not how we met.”
“No, more’s the pity,” Olrox agreed. “Still, it makes my point clearly enough: I don’t want to force you into my bed or force my attentions on you, because that candle in your soul might start to flicker. If you were abused long enough, the flame might go out entirely, and one of the things that most drew me to you would be gone. I would rather admire the flame from a distance, never getting to touch, than risk extinguishing it.”
Mizrak shifted uncomfortably. “Fine, you care,” he muttered. “Let’s just get on with it.”
Olrox smiled slightly. “I apologize for embarrassing you,” he murmured. “To continue on, this will be easiest with me sitting between your calves, able to reach your ass without looming. Would you prefer to lie on your front or your back? Lying on your front can be easier, physically.”
“No. I need to see you,” Mizrak bit out.
Olrox nodded. “All right. Make a space for me to sit, please.”
Mizrak moved, appreciating that the vampire hadn’t told him to “spread his legs.” Though perhaps he knew that would be … problematic. Thinking of problematic—“Don’t touch the … the new parts,” he instructed, aiming for a growl but fearing it came out as more of a plea.
“I won’t, I promise. I’m going to touch your thighs first. Try to relax.” His palms settled just above Mizrak’s knees, rubbing small circles until Mizrak’s muscles loosened. His hands slowly crept up his inner thigh toward Mizrak’s groin, advancing and retreating like waves on a beach.
“Rotate this hip a bit and tilt your leg outward,” Olrox murmured, patting his right thigh, and Mizrak hesitantly complied. The hands slid up the backs of his thighs until they reached his ass, avoiding other areas entirely. “I’m going to get some oil and massage it into the skin. I won’t be attempting penetration just yet. Are you good to keep going?” Mizrak nodded shakily, and Olrox added, “I’d prefer if you used words, to make sure I don’t misunderstand. Can you tell me if you’re all right to proceed?”
“Yes, keep going,” Mizrak whispered.
Olrox reached for the vial of oil with one hand, continuing to rub circles on the meat of Mizrak’s ass with the other. The vampire managed to remove the cork one-handed, somehow, and coated his fingers in the slippery substance. When he placed that hand back on Mizrak’s skin, he continued to pet the knight until he relaxed.
“I’m going to run my fingers along the crease, now. Still not penetrating yet,” soothed Olrox. Whenever his fingers slid over Mizrak’s hole, his thighs twitched, unsure if he liked the feeling or not.
Coating his fingers with more oil, Olrox told him, “I’m going to insert just the tip of my finger now. Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Mizrak bit out. He felt a bit ridiculous, with Olrox gentling him along like he was a spooked horse. But at the same time … Olrox pressed the tip of his index finger in, and Mizrak clenched his muscles instinctively before forcing them to relax. “Keep going,” he growled.
The finger slowly slid deeper, and he grunted, uncomfortable. There was no pain, but it felt just as odd and unappealing as it had the first time, years ago. “I’m going to brush your prostate now,” Olrox murmured. Mizrak grunted his assent, then jolted as the spot inside him lit up with sensation like a pile of gunpowder igniting. Olrox pulled his finger back slightly and asked, “How did that feel?”
“I … I’m all right,” Mizrak gasped. “Do that again.”
Olrox complied, and the sensation was no less intense the second time. “Keep going,” he growled. The lightning strikes inside him felt good, if intense. He could feel his cock hardening as Olrox continued. “Fuck,” Mizrak panted. How had he never known it could feel like this? “More!”
“May I add a second finger?” Olrox asked.
“Fine,” Mizrak replied absently. A slight stretch at his entrance, and then fire filled his veins. His back arched as he panted, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling above him. The sensation kept building and building for long minutes, and he barely felt any embarrassment at the whines and whimpers that began slipping from his open mouth. He just wanted “More!”
Olrox asked something, and Mizrak mindlessly agreed to whatever it was. Everything was so good … then wet heat engulfed his cock. He came so hard that his toes curled, and he threw a hand over his mouth to muffle a shout.
The warmth around his cock disappeared, and Mizrak dropped his hand and hazily looked down to see Olrox wiping his lips with his fingers. He froze when Mizrak stared at him in mild confusion. “I apologize,” he said softly after a moment. “I should have realized you wouldn’t be able to properly consent, given how overwhelmed you were. If I’d thought about it, I would’ve asked you earlier; as it was, I should’ve held back, not forced my attentions on you.” He looked like he felt incredibly guilty and was trying to hide it by sounding as formal as possible.
He was talking about putting his mouth on Mizrak’s cock, he realized. “S’fine. Was good,” he slurred, body still thrumming with the aftershocks of his pleasure.
“Even so, I shouldn’t have—” Olrox began, looking down.
“S’fine,” Mizrak repeated. “You?” Olrox’s cock was still hard, straining against the trousers he still wore.
“I can take care of myself in the other room,” the vampire insisted.
Mizrak twitched his fingers. “C’mere,” he mumbled. When Olrox looked up and met his eyes, he repeated, “C’mere. Lemme give you a hand.”
Olrox crawled further up the bed and lay down beside Mizrak, carefully not touching him. Mizrak huffed as he rolled his body toward the other, sliding his hand under the fabric to grasp Olrox’s erection. He swallowed Olrox’s gasp with his mouth, sweeping his tongue inside as he stroked. Olrox kissed him back eagerly; it wasn’t long before he stiffened and warmth splattered Mizrak’s palm.
He pulled his hand out of Olrox’s clothing and wiped the vampire’s seed down his own thigh, then curled further into him, tucking his face under Olrox’s chin. The other man wrapped his arms around him, and Mizrak hummed happily.
He dozed until Olrox’s fingers in his hair woke him. “You need to eat, Mizrak,” he murmured. “We’ll need to leave soon.”
Mizrak groaned and mumbled, “They can all go boil their heads. I’m comfortable.”
Olrox laughed lightly. “Hopefully someday soon, they won’t even have heads to boil. Wake up, my knight.”
Mizrak heaved a sigh and pulled away to sit up. His nose wrinkled as the dried seed on his leg pulled at the skin and hair. Olrox went to the bathing room and returned with a wet cloth, dabbing at the smear until it came off and leaving only the scent behind, as he’d done the night before. He then moved to the bell pull as Mizrak pulled his new clothing back on.
“How are you feeling?” Olrox asked softly.
Mizrak hummed thoughtfully. “Good. It was … very good.” Not the best description, but words were hard when he was still half asleep.
“I’m glad,” Olrox responded, coming over to cup Mizrak’s cheek in his palm. He was already fully dressed for the night in his purple silk. Perhaps he’d used vampire speed to throw everything on, since only a moment ago he’d still been wearing the tunic and trousers, not the full ensemble of stockings, breeches, chemise, waistcoat, and jacket he now wore.
“Still not sure how your snake cock would fit, though.” At least he could be sure now that he enjoyed having his prostate stimulated and wouldn’t find the experience uncomfortable in that sense.
“We can work up to that. It’s just a matter of adequate stretching and lubrication,” Olrox assured him.
Thinking of working up to it … “Maybe I’ll let you fuck me, later,” Mizrak said casually, and watched Olrox’s slit pupils dilate until they were nearly round. He smirked at the vampire and turned to greet whoever had brought up dinner.
Chapter Text
For once, they had a quiet evening, even surrounded by other vampires as they were. No one died; no one was sick or injured; none of the vampires argued about anything of importance. His brethren were once again being pulled away to be fucked, but returning to warmth made them less inclined to complain about a situation they couldn’t change.
Two new slaves had appeared, no doubt former betas. Jacques was a local lad, pale with red hair; Edouard was from further afield, darker-skinned and dark-haired but with striking blue eyes. They were both skittish, even around Mizrak and the others, which was understandable for Edouard, given that they were complete strangers. Mizrak was mildly surprised that Jacques flinched from them, since he was sure he’d met the young man at least once before—one of Maria’s revolutionaries, as he recalled. Still, they would adjust soon enough. Even the other knights weren’t as standoffish as they once would have been, beginning to welcome every human—even commoners and foreigners—as a potential ally.
Still, he was relieved when Olrox took them home early, though Mizrak didn’t know what reason he gave this time. It meant that Mizrak wasn’t desperate to hide from the world yet, and as he soaked in the tub, he considered what he’d told Olrox earlier in the day. He was fairly sure he trusted the vampire to fuck him without hurting him, even though it had only been … fuck, was this really only the fourth night he’d known the vampire? They’d certainly been eventful nights, but it felt more like he’d known Olrox for a week or two.
He wanted to know whether the increased size of penetration would change his perception of it. The sooner he could be sure of this, the sooner Olrox would tell Báthory and begin preparing. And thus, the sooner he would be safe—or at least, safer, for a while at least. That sounded like bliss.
He fell asleep before he could ask Olrox to do anything that night, more tired from general stress than he’d realized. But when he woke, he found he had more energy than he’d had in God only knew how long.
He lay watching Olrox sleep as he wondered: could he lie under the vampire long enough to even finish this test? Even seeing Olrox’s face, the position alone might be enough to make him panic. Though it would certainly be better than being strapped to a breeding bench again. Even if things went wrong and he ended up going through another heat, he was mostly sure that Olrox wouldn’t use one of those. Mostly.
At some point, Olrox’s eyes had slid open, and he’d lain there watching Mizrak think. When Mizrak shifted slightly, the vampire smiled. “What are you planning for today?” he asked Mizrak.
“Later I’m going to explore downstairs, maybe see if the swords you mentioned will work to practice with. But for right now …” He rolled onto his back, then said quickly, “I want you to fuck me. I want to know if something bigger going in feels worse, so I can plan accordingly. And then I want to get on with this plan.” He felt like he was almost vibrating in an effort not to visibly shake, though no doubt Olrox could tell, anyway.
Olrox sighed. “I worry about how fast you’re pushing yourself. I understand it, and I’ll help, but I wish there was any other way for you to feel safe, rather than barreling ahead like this.”
“There isn’t. So just do it.” When Olrox didn’t move over him, he snapped, “Well?”
“I think a different position might be easier—” Olrox began.
Mizrak snarled, “I won’t let you mount me! Face to face, or I’ll find someone else—” His voice broke on the blatant lie. He didn’t fully trust Olrox, even though the vampire was the person he trusted most in this situation. He’d never be able to ask anyone else, and Olrox knew it! But he wouldn’t—
Olrox was shaking his head, eyes wide. “Not the position I was considering. Please, Mizrak, take a moment to breathe.”
Mizrak huffed. “That’s not going to help. And what other positions are there?”
“I was thinking that I would lie on my back, and you would sit in my lap, so to speak. You would control how deep I go, how fast we go, the angle of the thrusts—everything.”
Mizrak blinked. “Oh,” he managed. How was it that every time he panicked, thinking there was no way out but through, Olrox offered some entirely different perspective? Had he always approached problems like this, or was it because he’d had such a long life to learn new things?
“Would that be acceptable?” Olrox asked. “If not, I’m sure we could come up with something else—”
“No, that—that would work fine. I just …” He’d been masking his fear with anger, and then taking that anger out on the person trying his hardest to help. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“I understand. But this is why I wish we could go more slowly: to talk things out beforehand, when the stakes aren’t so high.”
Mizrak winced. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, I need to know—”
Olrox reached out and stroked his cheek. “I know. And I’ll help. But we need to set aside some time in the next few days, once the eggs are forming, to talk about everything in detail. And some time this afternoon or evening to talk about how you’ll fertilize the eggs, though I expect that conversation will be far easier. For now … do your best to trust me, please.”
Closing his eyes, Mizrak mumbled, “I do, mostly. I just—with everything …”
“Understandable.” He ran his fingers through Mizrak’s hair, then said, “I’m going to grab the oil, then I’ll lie back down. We’ll prepare you, and then you’ll control everything from that point forward. All right?”
Mizrak nodded, and Olrox slid from the bed and walked into the bathing room. He returned a moment later with the vial and without his clothing. He lay down on his back and offered the vial to Mizrak. “Would you prefer to prepare yourself while I give instructions? Or would you like me to prepare you?”
Mizrak closed Olrox’s fingers around the vial again. “You.” From the sound of it, he wouldn’t be able to sufficiently prepare himself for the eggs, so another test was in order. This one he wasn’t as worried about, since Olrox had fingered him and done nothing he hadn’t wanted. Still, the more instances of care the vampire offered, the safer he felt.
Olrox coated his fingers in the oil, then gestured for Mizrak to kneel above his chest. The first finger went in easily, quickly followed by the second. The third took more time to adjust to, but finally he was ready. He shuffled backwards, reaching for Olrox’s cock to line it up with his ass, watching to be sure the vampire stayed still. In a single second of divided attention, Olrox’s cock slid forward slightly, and the tip touched the outer edges of his folds …
Pain. Pain, and fear. “Look at the slut. He likes it!” “Should’ve been born an omega—did we do you a favor, then? This is what you always wanted, isn’t it?” Burning. Begging, and hating everyone in that room for it, himself definitely included. “Think he’d let a night creature fuck him? Some of them have cocks. Big ones, even, like horse cock. Would you like that, slut?” Finally an end to the burning and the need, but no rest. Pain below, and he tried to pull away. Pain in his chest, his ribs. “Ah, I’ll miss all the cunts to play with, when these are gone. Think the Messiah will have more batches?” “Just go catch an omega for yourself.” “But these ones are so funny, the way they love it, hate it, and are disgusted by it all at the same time!” Pain lingers as he huddles with the others. “The Messiah said clean them up, she wants to hand them out tonight.” “You do it. I want one more go in this hole.” “He isn’t even in heat anymore; what for?” Laughter. Freezing water, a last few minutes to huddle with the others. Then dragged off by nightmares to face something worse—
Mizrak choked, and he lashed out blindly, hitting something firm. Scrambling backwards, his mind chanted ‘no more, God, please, please …’ He heaved in another breath and caught a whiff of something sweet and spicy … vanilla, and a hint of chilies … Olrox!
He shook his head rapidly to clear it and looked around. He’d backed himself into a corner of the bedroom. Olrox sat a few feet away, pulling his hand away from his stomach as the last of a dark purple bruise faded away. He looked warily up at Mizrak, who burst into exhausted tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he sobbed, curling further in on himself.
Olrox moved closer and pulled him into an embrace. “There’s no need to apologize.”
“I panicked, and I hit you!” Mizrak choked. When would this ever be over? Would it ever end, at all? He was so sick of crying and cowering, and so sick of needing to!
“Honestly, it was an impressive kick, especially for a human—you bruised three of my ribs,” Olrox told him, then rocked him as he sobbed harder. “You’ve been through so much lately, and it’s not over yet—it’s no surprise you panicked when reminded of what I assume was one of the worst periods of your life, if not the single worst.”
“Nothing happened, though—”
“This time. But you were defending yourself, which is completely rational. Trying to make sure it couldn’t happen that way again.”
Mizrak didn’t answer, and Olrox simply held him, rocking gently, until the knight’s breathing had been slow and even for several minutes. Finally, Olrox pulled him to his feet, murmuring. “Get dressed. We’re going to go downstairs, and you’re going to try those swords to see if one of them will work for your practices.”
“But I need to know—” Mizrak protested.
“Not just now. Not when everything’s still fresh. We still have several hours, and spending time feeling a bit closer to normal will help.” Mizrak huffed but complied, pulling on his clothes. Olrox frowned at his sock feet but ushered him out the door, in his first venture into the rest of the house.
There were several rooms upstairs, branching off a main hall. Down wide marble stairs, a front hall showed several more doorways, including a lounge for the men and a separate salon for women to occupy when visiting, along with closed doors that likely led to the kitchens and servants’ quarters. Olrox led him into the lounge, and sure enough, there were sabers pinned to the walls, clearly decorative since that many jewels on a cross-guard and grip would only be uncomfortable for the user. Still, he reached up and pulled one down, swishing it to get a feel for it.
“The balance is off, probably because of everything decorative,” he told Olrox. “And the blade’s dull. Not the style I’m used to, either. But it’ll do for now, I suppose.” To have access to anything with even the promise of an edge was already more than he expected.
“What style of sword do you usually use?” Olrox asked.
Mizrak swallowed, throat tight. The fact that Olrox had said “usually” instead of asking what he’d used in the past was a kind gesture. “Scimitar,” he rasped. “I use a scimitar, and occasionally a long dagger.”
“I see.” What exactly Olrox saw, he had no idea. “Practice for half an hour, and we’ll evaluate how you feel then. I’m going out for the moment.”
“In broad daylight?” Mizrak asked, surprised. “I know you’ve gone out in the evening before, when there were deeper shadows, but it’s still early afternoon, isn’t it?”
Olrox smiled. “I’ll be fine, traveling in smoke form. But thank you for your concern.” He turned and walked away, and Mizrak raised the sword, beginning one of the forms he used when practicing alone. The furniture provided interesting obstacles, but he managed.
By the time half an hour had passed, he was dripping sweat and breathing hard, clearly having lost conditioning in the three months or so since he’d last wielded a sword. Still, his heart felt lighter. He placed the sword back on the wall where he’d found it, then turned to find a small audience had gathered: Olrox, Amelia, and two men he wasn’t familiar with but would guess were servants of the house.
Amelia smiled and fluttered her fingers at him, then dragged the younger man off. The older man had been glowering the entire time, and Mizrak wondered what had irritated him so, but he turned and strode away as well. Olrox asked, “How are you feeling? Physically and mentally?”
“Physically, I’m tired for the moment, but I’ll build my endurance back up. Mentally, I’m ready to get on with it,” he told the vampire, sure he would understand which “it” he was referring to.
Olrox smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Determined as ever, I see.” He led the way back upstairs and into the bedroom, where Mizrak halted in astonishment.
There, resting atop one of the chests along the wall, was a folded tabard, a set of chainmail, with a set of boots in front of the chest. Resting atop the chainmail … were his scimitar and dagger. “How did you …”
“It was all still there in the abbey. I assume the chainmail is yours, given its placement in relation to the scimitar—that was the only thing I could be sure was yours. Obviously, you won’t be able to wear any of this in Báthory’s court,” Olrox said apologetically. “But there’s no reason you can’t have it here.”
Mizrak choked a laugh. “I imagine there are rather a lot of vampires who would disagree with you,” he said absently, walking over to trace his finger over his blade. It was dulled with lack of use, but he was sure he could find a sharpening stone somewhere—or simply ask Olrox for one, since the vampire seemed keen to provide. “Thank you,” he murmured, turning to face the vampire. “This … means a lot.” A poor description for such a momentous gesture, but … what else could he say?
Olrox simply nodded. “They’re yours, to do with as you please. Do you wish to practice more, now that you have the proper tools? Perhaps I should have interrupted you before …”
“No, I don’t want to overdo it. But tomorrow—tomorrow will be soon enough.” Wanting to move on from heavier topics, or at least this particular topic, he moved further into the room and began stripping off his clothing. “We had other plans for the rest of the afternoon,” he reminded the vampire.
Olrox huffed a laugh. “There’s no distracting you, is there? Not that I only brought these as a distraction—” he sought to clarify.
“I know.” Mizrak sat on the bed, staring at the vampire in expectation.
Olrox sighed, stripped, and reached for the vial on the nightstand, then lay back. Mizrak clambered over him, and he put a hand on the knight’s left bicep, saying, “Wait. Let me apply more oil and stretch you again, just in case.”
Mizrak huffed but acquiesced. It only took a moment to get back up to three fingers, then he carefully positioned himself, making sure Olrox’s cock went nowhere near the new parts. Guiding the head to his ass, he slowly sank down, then settled a moment. It felt … bigger, obviously. But there was no pain, though as yet he hadn’t felt any of the blinding pleasure from the day before, either.
“Tilt your hips back and forth until you find the angle you like best,” Olrox murmured. He was keeping his hands to himself, at the moment, which Mizrak appreciated.
Following the vampire’s advice, he found an angle that made him gasp, then lifted himself a few inches and dropped back down. The slide of Olrox’s cock against his prostate was … “Fuck,” he breathed, and repeated the motion again, then again, picking up speed. Pleasure like before hummed through his body, and he began to pant as it went on and on.
An ache beginning in his thighs made him grind his teeth. Had he really lost so much muscle in so few months? Clearly, he’d need to add squats, and weightlifting while he was at it, back into his training regimen. This would have been nothing, back when he was still strong and limber. He fought to focus on the pleasure, not his quivering thighs.
A cramp made him bite back a curse, and he sank back down on Olrox’s cock, desperate for more and unable to achieve it. Olrox reached a hand up to brush his cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“Cramp. I can’t—” Mizrak broke off with an exasperated growl.
“Can I help?” the vampire asked, voice calm as if he weren’t balls-deep in the knight’s body.
Mizrak winced. “I don’t … want to be on my back right now,” he admitted. He didn’t want this interrupted by another panic attack, especially since he’d been enjoying this a moment ago.
“We don’t need to change positions at all,” Olrox assured him. “Let me lift you, and you can just focus on the sensations.”
Oh, right. Olrox could throw him across the room if he chose—this would be much easier. “Do it,” Mizrak ordered, though no doubt it sounded closer to a plea than he would care to admit.
Olrox gently gripped his ass and lifted, then brought him back down. Again, and again, and again … “Fuck,” he gasped, gripping the vampire’s forearms. “Oh, fuck … Olrox!”
Pleasure spread through his veins like honey, as he gasped and moaned atop the vampire. Olrox began thrusting as he brought Mizrak down each time, balls slapping lightly against Mizrak’s skin. Every grind in and out drove his pleasure higher and higher, and the moans that ripped from his throat were loud and desperate. “Olrox, please … more!” The bed frame rattled beneath them, thumping against the wall, as Olrox drove into him, and he scrabbled at the vampire’s arms, wanting …
Olrox sat up, still pulling Mizrak up and down on his cock, and began mouthing at Mizrak’s chest. The knight buried his fingers in the vampire’s long hair and held him close, whining as everything grew more and more intense.
Finally he tipped over the edge into orgasm, shouting, “Olrox!” His vision was blurry, and he could barely breathe, but he felt as Olrox thrust once, twice … and then buried himself deep, grinding against Mizrak’s sensitive prostate and causing him to keen from oversensitivity.
At last, he slumped, and Olrox lowered both of them to lie back. Mizrak’s lungs heaved, heart pounding, as he lay atop the vampire, Olrox’s cock still buried deep in him. But … “No knot?” he croaked.
Olrox shook his head. “I didn’t want to be tied together, in case you had a bad reaction and needed to pull away. How are you feeling now?”
Mizrak chuckled sleepily. “Always asking me that,” he mumbled.
“I always want to know,” Olrox responded.
“Hm. Good. Fantastic, even.” His muscles were relaxed, and he still had that warm-honey feeling in his veins, slow and smooth. He could get used to this—with Olrox, at least.
“I’m glad,” Olrox murmured, petting his hair again. Mizrak whined as Olrox’s softening cock slipped out. “I’ll get a cloth to clean you up,” he said, trying to shift Mizrak from atop his chest onto the mattress.
“No, comfortable,” Mizrak grumbled.
“You won’t be if it dries on your skin,” Olrox drawled, amused. Mizrak huffed but let himself be moved, humming contentedly when Olrox came back and tenderly wiped his front and back. “I need to check something,” he murmured. “Will you be all right to sleep a bit more?” Mizrak nodded, eyes already closing, and felt Olrox’s lips brush his forehead. “I’ll be back soon,” the vampire whispered.
Mizrak hazily wished he’d thought to ask for a proper kiss before Olrox left. He liked kissing …
***
Olrox dressed quickly, then slipped from the room. He’d heard a heartbeat directly outside their door five minutes ago … yes, here was Amelia, dusting in the next room. “Can I help you with something?” he asked stiffly.
Amelia turned to him with a smile. “No, Master Olrox, I’m fine!” she chirped, then resumed dusting the gaudy figurines on the shelf. Perhaps he should sell those before he moved on, add the money to the compensation he gave the staff…
“Then why were you listening at the door?” he asked pointedly.
“Oh, I heard Mister Mizrak calling out, wanted to make sure he didn’t need something. Hadn’t hurt himself while you were out and couldn’t reach the bell or something,” she said calmly. “But I realized he was fine, so I went back to work!”
He raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you downstairs before?” She hadn’t been upstairs when they’d started, he was quite sure of that.
She shot him a smile. “Course, but since I already came up, figured I’d do up here before I went back down, rather than having to come upstairs a second time.”
“So you weren’t worried that I was hurting Mizrak?” he asked. “Staying nearby to save him, if needed?” Humans did tend to band together if threatened. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been driven out of his home despite having had a good relationship with the locals before the threat appeared.
“No. Should I be worried?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder to meet his eyes.
“No,” he said slowly, honestly surprised by her demeanor. She truly wasn’t suspicious of his actions or motives? How unusual.
“Then I won’t,” she responded cheerfully. “Whatever Madame Duval’s cooking for tonight smells delicious,” she added, seemingly out of nowhere. “Let her know if Mister Mizrak likes it, please? She’s trying real hard to make him extra good food to help him get better; if he doesn’t like something ever, she’d make him something else, I’m sure.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know. He seems to have enjoyed everything she’s given him so far, including what she leaves for after we return from court.” Every night, they returned to find a plate of salted pork or fish, cheese, and fruit waiting on the table for Mizrak.
“Good! Still, she’s been fretting that some of that’s from being hungry enough to eat anything, you know?” She looked at him again, asking, “Or do you remember that, from before? Thinking of, does all blood taste the same? I’d never eat the same thing every day again, if I can avoid it.”
He blinked at her. “Yes, I remember that kind of hunger. And no, there are variations in the taste of blood, based on diet and other factors.” Such as someone’s level of contentment with their life, and their primary emotions in the hours before being bitten, but that might be more than she wanted to know. “So, someone from the Americas would taste different from someone in the Far East, for example.” Leave France out of it—
“Oh! I heard you say you like bluebloods, is that why? Because aristos eat different than we do? That’s interesting!” she laughed, setting down the last gilded statuette. Apparently, she wasn’t concerned about him dining from her countrymen, after all. “Did you need anything, before I go back downstairs?” she asked. “I’m done in here, and we’ll get your and Mister Mizrak’s room later tonight.”
“No, thank you,” he replied.
“All right. See you later, Master Olrox!” She all but skipped down the staircase, dusting rag flowing behind her like a banner. What a strange bunch of humans he’d found. Amelia was perpetually cheerful and never seemed afraid of anyone or anything, including vampires. Madame Duval refused the title or higher pay of a housekeeper, insisting she was a cook, but she did both jobs all the same. Bertrand was a steady beta lad employed as a footman, who bemoaned his fate that a kind and beautiful omega such as Amelia must have her pick of the alphas, while remaining completely oblivious to Amelia’s returned interest. And Thomas, the butler, insisted he was a grouchy old bastard; but he bent over backwards to help anyone in the house, Olrox included, while complaining loudly to keep his reputation intact. Not that Olrox thought he had anyone fooled, since the two women regularly cooed over his actions when he was out of earshot. He could hear the older man downstairs now, grumbling as he moved the furniture out of the lounge into the salon, clearing a space for Mizrak to practice more easily.
And now Mizrak had joined them, the brave knight who was terrified of sex due to the abuse he’d suffered, and who insisted on it anyway, in the hope he’d be safe when he was pregnant—or equivalently carrying children, at least. After which he needn’t have sex again if he didn’t wish to; Olrox would make sure of that. Especially with him: Mizrak might have kissed him when offering him a hand the night before, but that was probably out of habit more than anything else, remembering back to a time when he’d chosen his partners. The fact that he hadn’t kissed Olrox tonight spoke far more loudly: after all, why the hell would he want to? The knight probably regretted it now; he would have to make sure not to reference it in any way, to ease Mizrak’s nerves that he didn’t expect anything.
He slipped back into the room he and Mizrak shared, smiling softly as he saw the knight was fast asleep, snoring ever so slightly. He pulled the blankets up over Mizrak’s shoulders, then settled in his armchair beside the fire, picking up his book. He had no real intention to read at the moment, though, since he had plenty to think about. But it made a good cover.
If Mizrak was still insistent about carrying eggs later tonight, he’d begin forming them, along with the cloaca he’d need for his dear knight to be able to fertilize them. He’d also need to tell Báthory tonight, or tomorrow night at the latest. With Mizrak still so afraid of the other vampires, and their likelihood to hurt him without the protection of bearing a child or three, he fully intended to play up the brooding hormones. Let them try to scare his knight with him there, hissing and growling at the slightest disturbance.
He’d need to warn Mizrak beforehand, though, since he wanted everyone to assume he was acting overprotective at home, too. Obviously if he startled Mizrak, that plan might have to be abandoned rather quickly, and he’d prefer not to have to come up with a lie for it. Maybe that this place was soaked in his serpent form’s pheromones, so he was less agitated? But that opened up the possibility that someone would be searching for where he was staying, since they would assume they’d be able to smell something leaking out of the house. Best to avoid the conversation entirely.
Assuming they did get as far as the eggs being incubated, laid, and then hatching, he hoped Mizrak could love their offspring. No child should have to be born without at least one nurturing parent; while he might love them, Olrox doubted that ‘nurturing’ was ever a term that would be applied to him. Someone nurturing wouldn’t have driven his beloved crazy with the hovering he’d done, then agreed to leave that same man alone long enough for him to be murdered by that Belmont bitch.
Would Mizrak be disgusted that he’d murdered the bitch right back, or pleased that he’d at least let the boy go? Hell, he’d probably be disgusted about that, too, actually: leaving an orphan to board a ship back to Europe, completely alone, hadn’t been his best idea. Surely the boy had some family left here in France to finish raising him? Assuming the ship hadn't sunk in a storm.
Fuck, everything about that night had been a disaster, from start to finish. What he wouldn’t give … but it didn’t matter. There was nothing he could give to change things. And even if his beloved hadn’t been murdered, he would have left, since any affection he’d felt for Olrox had seemingly disappeared the day he’d found himself turned rather than dead.
He’d have to try not to make so many mistakes with Mizrak. Not that Mizrak loved him, of course, or ever would. Gratitude for being saved from abuse did not the foundation of a healthy relationship make, he wouldn’t wonder. And he’d already gotten the knight’s brother-in-arms killed, even if he hadn’t meant for his mocking comment to drive the Marquis to kill the man.
Olrox was universally terrible with relationships of any kind—he’d let his only love be killed, drove away Adrian when the dhampir only wanted to help … Even his fledglings—none of them wrote to him anymore, and surely they couldn’t all be dead? There had been eight over the years, a nice solid number. He’d only received confirmation of three deaths, including that of his beloved; surely at least one still lived?
Olrox settled in to watch the clock, rather than reading or further thinking. He would put off the pleasurable burn of holding Mizrak for a few more hours, at least—like holding bliss to his skin and stepping into direct sunlight at the same time. No point in getting used to it, since as soon as Mizrak had the protection he sought, he’d likely want nothing to do with Olrox, especially not skin contact. No, being without skin hunger was a thing of his past, before the Spanish had come and killed his people; before one of them had made him a literal cold-blooded killer.
At least his skin was warm again, these days. No need for Mizrak to flinch all the harder away from him …
Notes:
Time to torture the other half of this pair. Olrox acts far more sure of himself than he actually is. He’s confident in his shapeshifting and fighting abilities, and in his general sex appeal. But he worries about his inability to maintain long-term relationships; being new to healing, and how that affects Mizrak, definitely plays into that.
Chapter Text
When Mizrak finally woke, he only had time to throw on clothes and wolf down the meal Amelia brought up from the kitchen before Olrox whisked them away. He was getting used to travel by smoke, at least—it still wasn’t enjoyable, but he no longer felt like vomiting every time.
He found Jacques lying among the group of knights, seeming marginally less skittish tonight. Edouard, however, had seemingly been banished to the fringes, shivering alone. Mizrak kept an eye on him, worried by the number of bruises he already wore: his arms and torso were painted in overlapping blues and purples like an abstract painting of a field of flowers, which would have been lovely on any canvas other than skin. What had happened to him?
When he asked, Eric snorted. “Apparently, he’s mixed descent, from an African slave and a European master; I forget the term they used. But it led them to realize he’s from the colonies, and he might’ve been involved in the uprising in Saint-Domingue. Even thinking about it made them angry, so there you go.”
“And why is he not allowed to join the rest of us? He’s in the same position as we are, isn’t he?” Mizrak asked.
Eric gave him a scathing look. “It’s a bit rich for you to talk about being in the same position as the rest of us, don’t you think? You’re getting the royal treatment in comparison.” Mizrak reddened and opened his mouth to protest, but Eric waved it away. “You got lucky; I get it. And at least we’re warmer and getting more to eat now, at the insistence of your vampire. As for him—you didn’t see them this afternoon. None of us want that kind of attention, and we’re not risking getting it by association.”
Edouard had managed to claim a single thin blanket. As far away from the fire as he was, it clearly wasn’t enough. About to say that he would welcome the outsider, if no one else dared, Mizrak was distracted by Eric cursing softly. “What?”
“She’s looking this way. And she looks … hungry, maybe. I doubt it means anything good,” Eric warned.
Mizrak peered in that direction from the corner of his eye and saw Báthory looking their way, a delighted, sharp-toothed grin on her face. She turned to say something to someone sitting nearby. Risking turning his head slightly, he saw Olrox speaking with her and looking smug. “I don’t think you have to worry,” he told Eric. “I’m fairly sure it’s about me.”
He would’ve explained in more detail, but Eric’s master snapped his fingers, and the other knight began to crawl toward him, likely choosing his battles and wanting to avoid the beating he’d get for not coming. All the vampire alphas were now trying to train their slaves to come when called, with varying degrees of success. He’d heard them alternately blame the slave or their own lack of hypnotic powers; clearly, he and Olrox had set a trend.
He moved over to sit next to Edouard, lifting one side of the large fur over his shoulders in an offer to share. Edouard moved closer with a grateful smile, ducking under Mizrak’s arm as well as the fur to get as close as possible. “Thank you,” he murmured as his shivering eased. “But are you not afraid to be seen with me?” he asked hesitantly.
“No. Olrox gave me permission to huddle with any of the other slaves. He won’t beat me, or let any of the other vampires touch me, either.” He was sure of that now, even if it had never been tested.
“You’re using his name? I would be afraid I would slip and use it to his face, if I called him something other than ‘Master’ when he wasn’t there. Not that I have a master, at the moment,” he murmured.
Mizrak winced. Being free use must be beyond miserable. “He told me not to use a title, other than ‘sir.’ Though I doubt the others would approve.”
Edouard laughed dully. “No, I can’t imagine they would. I have to call all of them ‘Master,’ if they let me say anything at all.”
Mizrak wrapped his arm more snugly around the other man’s shoulders, and they sat in comfortable silence. Báthory kept looking over at him, so Mizrak assumed Olrox had told her about the planned eggs. With how gleeful she looked, Mizrak could only hope their plan didn’t backfire, with her wanting him to carry eggs constantly.
One of the vampires strode over and grabbed Edouard by the hair. He scrambled to stand, but his foot caught on the fur, and he slipped, yelping as some of his hair was yanked out by the roots. The vampire kicked him, then kicked Mizrak in the gut as well, hard enough to knock him over. “Don’t you hold him back when someone comes for him! Just because that New World bastard spoils you—” He took a step forward, looking ready to kick again.
“Olrox!” Mizrak whispered, not wanting to draw too many vampires’ attention but remembering the ground rule all the same. Besides, he didn’t want to be kicked!
Olrox appeared at his side as quickly as if he’d been standing there all along, already snarling. “No one touches my pet but me,” he growled, glaring fiercely at the other vampire, who still held Edouard by the hair.
“Then teach your slave not to interfere!” the other vampire snapped. He raised his foot again.
A shriek of pain ripped through the ballroom, silencing conversations in every direction. The vampire who had attempted to kick Mizrak again now lay on his back, clutching his ankle and howling. The joint bent entirely in the wrong direction, Mizrak noted absently as he sat up. Olrox leaned down and placed a hand on his abdomen, healing the bruise forming there almost before he felt it.
Edouard, who’d been released by the injured vampire, slid quickly back to Mizrak’s side, panting in fear and pain. Several thick locks of his hair were tangled around the vampire’s fingers. Olrox reached over absently and healed Edouard’s bleeding scalp before he could even begin to flinch away.
“What is this?” asked Drolta, prowling over to stare down at the vampire writhing on the floor.
“He broke my ankle for no fucking reason!” the other vampire howled.
“On the contrary,” Olrox purred. “I was teaching him not to interfere with my slave.” Mizrak suppressed a smile at Olrox turning the vampire’s words around on him.
“Oh, dear,” Drolta tutted. “He must be a slow learner, to need so harsh a lesson. He’s surely learned it now, though. Do you intend to heal him?”
“Given all the yowling I hear, it sounds as if he’s part cat. I’m not sure I could heal him correctly, if that’s the case,” Olrox drawled.
Drolta laughed, seeming delighted by Olrox’s refusal. “Yes, the caterwauling is ridiculous. Perhaps a veterinarian would have better luck, or at least know if anyone else nearby specializes in whatever he is.” She gestured to another vampire, frequent companion to the first. “Take him out of here; he’s ruining the ambiance.”
After the still-howling vampire had been carried out, Drolta spoke. “I’m glad to see you haven’t become soft. But don’t you think that was a little overprotective? He’s not carrying yet.”
“I prefer to set precedent early, so there are no questions later on,” Olrox responded.
“I suppose that makes sense.” Turning to study Mizrak, she asked, “I know you’ve told us how sturdy he is, but are you sure he can handle what you’ve described? My mistress would be very disappointed if you ripped him in half accidentally.”
“Quite sure,” Olrox said. “Perhaps he’ll even manage four eggs.”
Mizrak swallowed hard but didn’t move or look away. After a moment, Drolta shrugged. “Come tell me more about the process. I’m sure my mistress would love to watch the eggs being inserted.”
“Given how close to the surface my instincts will be, that probably won’t be possible,” Olrox declared, walking back to the sitting area with her. Mizrak let out a breath and looked around as everyone’s attention return to whatever they’d been doing before the interruption. Báthory was feeding, which explained why Drolta had come over instead.
Edouard was still shaking with adrenaline, if not pain, and Mizrak pulled him close under the fur again. “It’s over, for now,” Mizrak told him. “They probably won’t bother you for a while.” None of them would want to risk angering Olrox by approaching Mizrak immediately after such a display.
Edouard nodded but said nothing. When the servants passed out bowls of gruel, he accepted his bowl and stared at it like it held all the secrets of life. Finally, his stomach rumbled, and he ate. He stayed close to Mizrak for the rest of the night, managing to doze a few hours with his head on Mizrak’s shoulder.
When they finally made it home and into bed, Mizrak told Olrox, “Thank you, for helping him.”
“You don’t need to thank me for that, Mizrak,” Olrox murmured.
“Still, thank you,” Mizrak insisted. Olrox didn’t respond, feigning sleep, but Mizrak knew better. He curled close and closed his eyes.
***
Mizrak woke to the grandfather clock chiming noon. Given that they’d stayed until nearly dawn the night before, likely because Olrox realized how worried Mizrak was about Edouard, he didn’t feel particularly well-rested. But his mind was already awake and running through the list of things he hoped to accomplish today, or as soon as possible: ask Olrox about Báthory’s glee; ask about the next steps in the plan; explore the house; train with his own gear. If Olrox was serious about taking down Báthory, which he suspected he was, then Mizrak intended to be on the front lines, fighting for his freedom and to avenge those who hadn’t lived to see their own. But he would need to begin a strict training regimen immediately; otherwise, he might be delegated to a supporting role, in order to keep him from hindering anyone who might fight with them. Hopefully Richter and Maria were still local, though he wouldn’t blame them if they’d retreated. Terra, too, could be a formidable fighter, if she felt called to fight rather than tending the wounded.
Rolling over, he saw a lock of Olrox’s hair had slid down across his face and was moving back and forth as he breathed. He gently swept the hair back behind Olrox’s ear—
—only to gasp as a vice-like grip seized his wrist. Olrox’s eyes were wide open now, but he wasn’t sure if the vampire recognized him, fresh out of sleep. “Olrox?” he tried. “That hurts.”
Olrox blinked at him, then dropped his hand, though not before releasing his magic to bring the bruise to full bloom across his wrist, then letting it fade away. “I apologize,” the vampire murmured, peering at Mizrak’s wrist for any remaining damage.
“It’s fine; just a reflex, I know,” Mizrak reassured him. “I was hoping to keep the hair in your face from waking you, but that plan backfired.”
“So it would seem. Did you get enough sleep? It’s not long past noon,” the vampire stated.
Mizrak’s brows furrowed. “How do you know that?” he asked. “You can’t see the clock from that angle, and you were asleep when it chimed.”
“Vampires have a sense of when the sun is in the sky,” Olrox explained. “Some quality in the air changes when it’s about to rise or set, which we can sense even when we can’t see it, and we can learn to judge the passage of time based on that. Did you get enough sleep?” he asked again.
“Not really, but my mind is awake. And if we end up doing something sexual this afternoon, I may end up sleeping more afterwards.” Changing the subject somewhat, he asked, “What was all that about Báthory wanting to watch you insert the eggs?”
Olrox snorted. “Precisely that. I told her that we’d have to be outside to have sufficient space for my other form; she insisted it happen in the gardens where she could watch. At which point I explained that she would have to be far enough away to not set off my protective instincts, which meant she likely wouldn’t see any details at all, just a feathered serpent coiled around a man. But she insisted that we be close enough that she could see at least that much from the balcony.”
“Damn her to the deepest pits of Hell,” Mizrak spat. “That’s going to be humiliating. They’ll all be able to hear everything, too, won’t they?”
“Yes. Even if you kept your voice to a whisper, we wouldn’t be far enough away to prevent the vampires from hearing you, even if the humans couldn’t. Which means if you shout, the humans in the chateau might hear as well.”
Mizrak clapped a hand over his face. “I was shouting yesterday, wasn’t I? Did anyone …?”
Olrox nodded. “I can’t be sure who heard what, other than that Amelia was concerned you’d somehow injured yourself and couldn’t reach the bell, and that presumably I’d left before that. She didn’t seem at all concerned that I’d been hurting you, at least.”
Mizrak groaned. “Gag me before we do anything else, please. Here or outside the chateau.”
Olrox thought for a moment, then said quietly, “If you’re serious about being gagged, I’ll only agree on the condition that you’re able to remove it quickly if you need to tell me to stop. I don’t want to count on nonverbal cues, with how overwhelming this may be for you.”
Mizrak looked up at him, asking, “Speaking of that, is there any way to test that? Everything felt good yesterday, but I’m still not sure about how the size of your cock in your other form will feel.”
“I could fist you,” Olrox offered, pupils dilating somewhat. “It’s similar to fingering, but you keep adding fingers and the thumb, then work the hand in,” he explained at Mizrak’s confused look. “Some people find that quite enjoyable, and given your reactions thus far, you very well might be one of them.”
“I’m beginning to realize just how little I know about sex,” Mizrak muttered. “You keep mentioning positions and acts I’ve never even heard of.”
“Results of being in a church nearly all day, every day, I suppose,” Olrox drawled.
“Yes. Can we try that now? The sooner the better, I’d think,” Mizrak prompted.
Olrox hummed. “The eggs will be ready for you to fertilize in a few hours. We could put that off until after court tonight, but I implied to Báthory that it would be sometime today. And that I would be overly protective for the next few days because of that. As far as which happens first and how quickly they happen, one after the other, that will depend on you and your stamina. Can you handle having sex twice before we go tonight, or should we put one of those off until after?”
“I think I can manage twice in four or five hours, yes.” Especially with everything Olrox had been doing, and how it felt so much better than he ever remembered sex feeling before. “I might be somewhat sleepy this evening, but I’m sure being in danger will wake me up again.”
Olrox’s lips quirked in a lopsided smile. “Even if you do end up being sleepy, I doubt that would be a problem. Because in order to sell this, you won’t be leaving my side for the next few nights, and I’ll be more likely to bite first and ask questions later if any vampire so much as gives you a dirty look.”
“Oh …” Well, that should be interesting to watch. Though he hated the idea of being kept from his brethren for several days straight. Still, needs must. “I’d like to try your fist now. What position is best for that?” He might as well not assume anything, the way he kept doing.
“The position we used for fingering will be easiest for your muscles. But if that doesn’t appeal, there are others we can try,” Olrox offered.
“That one will be fine, since you won’t be looming over me,” Mizrak murmured.
Olrox looked down for a moment, then added, “I’m going to ask ahead of time, today. Once my fist is inside you, if you’re still enjoying it, can I put my mouth on you?”
“Of course,” Mizrak answered, understanding that Olrox felt guilty, but he couldn’t imagine saying no to that. At least, not with Olrox.
“I just want to avoid any further misunderstandings,” the vampire said quietly, glancing up.
“Reasonable. Once I’ve come, can I help you get there, like when you fingered me?” Might as well clarify everything, to keep Olrox calm.
“You shouldn’t feel obligated,” Olrox answered, turning and sitting up at last, back to Mizrak. “I understand if that was simply something you were used to, before everything. You don’t need to help me just because I made you come; I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself.”
Mizrak wasn’t sure if he should feel hurt or confused. Was Olrox trying to say he wasn’t interested but letting him down gently, or was he afraid Mizrak had felt pressured? “I know I don’t have to,” he responded. “But what if I want to? What if I want to make you come with my hand on your cock and my tongue in your mouth? If you’re not interested, that’s fine, just say that. But I wouldn’t have asked if I’d felt I had to, before.”
Olrox looked back over his shoulder at him for a long moment. Finally he murmured, “If you’re sure.”
“I am,” Mizrak said firmly. “But only if you’re interested.”
Olrox turned away again with a laugh. “How could I not be?” He retrieved the vial and returned to the bed, sitting next to where Mizrak still lay. “You’re going to have to move from that spot, you know. That wouldn’t be a very good position, so close to the edge,” he teased.
Mizrak rolled his eyes but moved closer to the head of the bed, lying on his back with Olrox between his knees. “You probably don’t have to do quite so much warmup this time. I know what’s coming, at least to start.”
“So you don’t want me to massage your thighs? I’ll have to save that for some time you’re sore after training, then,” Olrox said lightly, coating his fingers in oil.
“I think I would enjoy that,” Mizrak murmured; then his breath hitched when Olrox’s finger suddenly touched his ass.
“Ready?” Olrox asked.
“Yes,” Mizrak bit out, then let out a shuddering breath when the tip of the first finger breached. He concentrated on relaxing his muscles, waiting for the first lightning strike of sensation … there! He let himself sink into the feeling as a second finger joined the first. He could tell Olrox was hitting his prostate less frequently this time, presumably to make sure Mizrak would last. A third finger, then a fourth. This was a greater stretch than he’d felt before, but it didn’t hurt. He was eager to proceed.
As if sensing his thoughts, Olrox told him, “Wait another minute. I want to be absolutely sure you’re as relaxed as possible before I try to add my thumb.”
Mizrak shivered, nerves buzzing enjoyably. How was he supposed to be any more relaxed than this? “I’m ready,” he insisted.
Olrox took him at his word, sliding all four fingers out and returning with his thumb tucked into his palm inside the ring of his fingers. He moved deeper, and the stretch grew, but so did the pleasure as the vampire’s knuckles grazed his walls. Mizrak began to pant, wanting to writhe with how good this felt but knowing that would be counterproductive.
“This will be the widest part of my hand,” Olrox murmured.
“Keep going,” Mizrak gasped. The stretch bloomed and grew, bordering on painful but never quite reaching it, and then Olrox’s hand slid into his ass up to the wrist. Mizrak nearly smacked himself in the face in his rush to put a hand over his mouth. So deep …
“I’m going to form a fist now,” the vampire explained. His fingers moved, and his knuckles ground against Mizrak’s prostate. And the world dissolved in white fire.
Mizrak came back to himself panting desperately past the barrier of his palm, shivering with aftershocks. “Welcome back,” Olrox murmured, sounding smug. “I think it’s safe to say you liked that.” Mizrak nodded vigorously, not moving his hand. He could feel Olrox’s fist still inside him, with his muscles clamped tight to keep him pinned. He fought to relax them as his breathing slowed.
“Do you want to continue?” Olrox asked. “You may be oversensitive now.”
Mizrak peeled his hand away from his mouth and rasped, “S’good. Keep going.” Olrox nodded, sliding his fist deeper, and Mizrak clamped his hand back in place, trying to stifle the absurd whines coming from his throat. Several times his body jolted with oversensitivity, and each time brought him higher, closer …
“That’s it!” Olrox told him, grinning up at him. “That’s as deep as I’m able to go, in either form!” Mizrak whimpered, cock jumping. “Push my hand out as I pull,” the vampire instructed, then swallowed Mizrak’s cock as he moved his hand. Mizrak screamed as fire roared through him a second time.
***
Olrox smiled fondly down at his knight, passed out from coming twice within the span of a few minutes. Chances were good that Mizrak would enjoy having the eggs inserted immensely. For now, he cleaned the man up, threw the cloth he’d fetched back into the bathing room, and lay down beside Mizrak. He wrapped his arms around the knight, even daring to drape a leg over Mizrak’s hips to keep him close.
He could feel the eggs inside him now, jostling each other as they moved with his own motions. Would Mizrak find that as pleasant as he did? Or would that be uncomfortable, movement well past his prostate into his depths? Only time would tell, now.
He was pleased that Mizrak had enjoyed the fisting so much, though he selfishly hoped the knight would be willing to touch Olrox another time, since he hadn’t been awake long enough to help today. Still, surely it boded well that Mizrak had asked to touch him and even insisted that he wanted to. Now all Olrox had to do was not fuck this up, and maybe … no, best not to get ahead of himself. He would be grateful for the chance to be close to Mizrak and shouldn’t ask for more.
The clock was chiming five o’clock when Mizrak stirred, a much longer nap than Olrox had originally anticipated him taking. But he hadn’t slept enough the night before, so it wasn’t unreasonable.
Mizrak blinked blearily up at the ceiling, then turned to face Olrox. “That … fuck. How long was I out?”
“A little over four hours,” Olrox told him smoothly, trying to keep the smugness out of his voice.
Mizrak’s eyebrows shot up. “Fuck! Are we going to be late?”
“We have an hour before we would normally leave. And if you have enough energy, still, to fertilize the eggs, I think we would have a marvelous excuse for being late.”
Mizrak furrowed his brow. “I’m awake enough, but I don’t know how much energy that amounts to. Or how much seed I have left,” he added thoughtfully.
“It doesn’t take much. Though it might be worth it for you to fertilize them at least twice, to ensure a large enough clutch,” Olrox mentioned.
“I don’t think I’m up for anything strenuous. But … if you were to ride me like I rode you before …” the knight said hesitantly.
Olrox grinned. “That sounds delightful. Lie back and think of France, my dear knight. I’ll do all the work.”
Mizrak chuckled. “I think I’ll leave France out of it, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Suit yourself.” Olrox grabbed the vial of oil—which he would have to refill or replace, soon—and coated Mizrak’s cock. “Supposedly my cloaca would provide its own lubrication, but since I haven’t tried this before, better safe than sorry.”
Moving to perch over Mizrak’s cock, he lowered himself slowly. His flesh parted in an unfamiliar but not unpleasant manner, and he groaned as he came to rest in Mizrak’s lap, pausing to adjust to the sensation.
Mizrak’s breathing had picked up, and he rested his hands on Olrox’s hips, not trying to control his movements but simply as a point of connection, Olrox suspected. “How does it feel?” the knight asked.
“Different. Good, and I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. But it’s not going to become my preference, by any means,” Olrox mused. He began to move slowly up and down.
“Probably for the best,” Mizrak panted. “If you only have this when you’re creating eggs—that would be a lot of children.”
Olrox laughed, which apparently caused his insides to clench in ways Mizrak enjoyed, given the loud moan that tore out of him. “That might be one method to get rid of Báthory: have dozens of children all pile on her at once. It would take years to get enough of them old enough to risk it, and I’d rather not wait that long. But I’ll keep it in mind as a last resort!” His and Mizrak’s children working to bring down Báthory would be poetic, if nothing else.
As much as it might be nice to continue going slowly and enjoy every minute of this, they really were under a time constraint. So Olrox reluctantly sped up. The bed frame thumped against the wall, and he made a mental note to pull it further into the room in future to minimize the noise.
Mizrak’s grip tightened on his hips, though he still wasn’t attempting to control Olrox’s movements. He seemed close to the edge, with his breathing fast and his eyes half-closed, staring up at the vampire with a dazed look. Olrox added a grinding motion every time he bottomed out, and Mizrak came with a muffled shout, having clamped his left hand over his mouth again.
Olrox stilled, to avoid overstimulating his knight. He hadn’t come, but he didn’t always come when being penetrated anally, either—he needed something more.
Reaching for his cock, he was surprised when Mizrak’s right hand beat him there. “Can I?” Mizrak rasped. “I didn’t manage it earlier.”
“You passed out. It would be a little difficult to stroke me off while you were asleep,” Olrox pointed out, wanting to give the man an out if he only felt bad about not managing it earlier.
“True, but it doesn’t mean I don’t regret missing the chance,” Mizrak told him.
“If you’d like,” Olrox murmured, trying not to seem too eager, or worse, desperate.
Mizrak grinned. “I would like, yes. Come down here and kiss me?”
Olrox lifted himself, hissing a bit as Mizrak’s softened cock slipped out, then lay down next to him. Mizrak immediately rolled toward him, beginning to stroke as his lips pressed to the vampire’s. This was much more enjoyable than being fucked, Olrox thought hazily, fucking into Mizrak’s fist and groaning as the knight’s tongue slid into his mouth. They battled for control of Olrox’s mouth, with his tongue putting up only a token defense against the invader before stroking it with his own. He hummed contentedly as he spilled between them. He would’ve assumed Mizrak hadn’t noticed, since their kiss continued unabated, except his hand had stopped moving.
Finally Olrox drew back, watching fondly as Mizrak panted for breath. “We really should get out of bed, at least,” he murmured at last. They both moved to sit up, but neither moved away. “You still need to eat before we go. You don’t seem as tired as you usually are after sex.”
Mizrak turned his head, cheeks flaring crimson. “Actually, I’m usually not so tired after sex,” he grumbled. “You just wear me out.”
Olrox blinked. That made no sense, given that he hadn’t worn him out just now. Unless … “There’s no shame in preferring to be the receiving partner, you know. Sheath to my sword, if you’ll pardon the expression.”
Mizrak looked down at his hands, seeming suddenly miserable. “I used to think that, for my partners at least, since I hadn’t tried it for myself,” he said quietly. “But … maybe I was meant to be an omega, after all.”
Olrox frowned, confused. “What makes you say that?” When Mizrak only shrugged, he lifted Mizrak’s chin until the knight met his eyes. “Tell me?” he asked.
“Maybe I’m just a slut,” Mizrak whispered, eyes wet.
Olrox fought back a snarl. His anger at whoever must have said that to his knight would have to wait. “You know, I’ve yet to meet a slut in my entire life,” he said calmly. “I’ve met many people who enjoy sex. Some of them enjoy casual sex with anyone that catches their fancy, while others prefer a more limited number of partners, be it one or several. But I’ve never met a single person who wanted to have sex with anyone and everyone, regardless of partner or circumstance. There are, after all, vampires in our acquaintance with whom no one in their right mind would want sex.
“So, I believe that there is no such thing as a slut. Horrible people simply try to hurt and shame others by claiming they’re desperate for sex, especially when their body responds to stimulation they don’t want in the way bodies are made to do. So no, Mizrak, I do not, nor have I ever, believed for an instant that you’re a slut. And unless you felt like an omega trapped in a beta’s body before Báthory ever came to France, then you weren’t meant to be an omega. And you’re not—you’re a beta who was given extra parts and then abused. That’s all.”
Mizrak stared at him silently for a moment, then asked, “So, the fact that I came harder with you the previous times than I ever did before in my life …?”
“Means that you enjoy being the sheath more than the sword. Nothing to do with omegas, or sluts, or anything else,” Olrox declared firmly.
Mizrak’s eyes overflowed, but he was smiling slightly. “Thank you,” he murmured.
Olrox gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You’re an incredible man, Mizrak,” he said softly. “Try to remember that when idiots lie to you.”
Mizrak laughed. “Right. Don’t believe idiots. I’ll keep that in mind.”
They moved around each other quietly but contentedly while Mizrak called for food and ate. When Olrox held out an arm to transport him, though, the knight looked back longingly at his armor and weapons before taking his hand. “Someday,” Olrox murmured. Mizrak nodded, and Olrox turned them both into smoke and headed for the chateau.
Notes:
Don’t let anyone call you anything you don’t give them direct permission to call you. If you get off on being called a slut by a partner, more power to you. Same if you’re with a partner who enjoys getting called a slut and you enjoy calling them that partly because they enjoy it. If someone’s using it as an insult and not a kink, though, they’re an asshole. That’s their problem, not yours. Stay safe out there, people.
Chapter Text
That night, Olrox had Mizrak settle at his feet in one of the sitting areas. He growled anytime anyone moved, enjoying the other vampires’ reactions, and after barely an hour, he made his excuses and brought Mizrak home.
When they woke the next morning, Olrox told Mizrak, “I need you to try to fertilize the eggs one more time, just in case. Since neither of us is particularly fond of the roles we’ll be in, we needn’t do it again after this. But I did have a suggestion now how to potentially make this more enjoyable, if you’re interested.”
“I’m listening,” Mizrak said, watching him attentively.
“I was thinking that, since we both enjoy you riding me, we should start with that. But instead of you coming during that, I could hold the base of your cock to delay your orgasm. After I come, you pull off my cock and enter me, while I finger you until you come in me. That should result in better orgasms for the both of us.” And then they could go back to Mizrak riding Olrox in the future, if Mizrak had the slightest interest. He might, until the eggs were inserted, in order to prepare. But after that, penetrative sex wouldn’t be possible until the eggs were laid, by which point Mizrak surely would have lost interest in Olrox. All he could hope for at that point would be a cordial relationship until Báthory was dealt with. And then Olrox would move on, before everyone tired of him as Mizrak would. Let them remember him fondly, if distantly.
Mizrak had been carefully considering Olrox’s proposal. Finally, he nodded. “Worth a try, at least.”
So he carefully prepared the knight, then let him set the pace to start, taking over when Mizrak tired. He had to adjust how he lifted Mizrak’s hips, to keep the other hand around the base of his cock. But the knight certainly seemed to be enjoying it, his moans soon becoming desperate whines as his orgasm was denied. “Olrox,” he panted. “Olrox, please!”
“Almost,” he soothed. His own orgasm was rapidly approaching.
“Please, Olrox!” Mizrak begged.
The plea went straight to Olrox’s cock, and he came deep inside Mizrak. He pulled Mizrak up, still gripping his cock, then helped him regain his bearings and thrust into Olrox, no further delay necessary. He plunged two fingers into Mizrak and rubbed mercilessly over his prostate again and again without a break.
“Olrox!” Mizrak howled as he came, then slumped over Olrox, panting and shivering from the stimulation. As he calmed, he slid directly into sleep. Even after his cock sipped out, Olrox held him lying on his chest, nuzzling his hair contentedly.
A brief sound from the hallway made his eyes widen, then he winced. He’d forgotten to give Mizrak a gag of any kind, and clearly at least one person had heard him. What would be best to muffle the sound while remaining comfortable? A wad of cloth would be hard to spit out in a hurry, so that was unacceptable. Likewise, even a strip of cloth loosely tied behind Mizrak’s head might take too long to release in an emergency. What else … a thick strip of leather, perhaps? It could be spat out immediately, and a thick enough strip would muffle any noises. And it shouldn’t hurt Mizrak’s lips, teeth, or jaw. He would just need to find the right piece.
After napping a few hours, Mizrak put on his mail and tabard and took his sword downstairs to practice. Olrox saw his surprise at the room’s sudden lack of furniture, and he attempted to thank Thomas, who was working nearby. Thomas grumbled something at him and walked away; Mizrak turned to Olrox, concerned. “Have I offended him somehow?” he asked. “I would make amends, if I knew what to apologize for.”
Olrox shook his head. “No, you haven’t offended him. In the months I’ve lived here, he’s grumbled about everyone and everything, all while performing kind gestures like this. He seems to want the reputation of a rude, uncaring old man for some reason. Don’t take it personally.”
Mizrak looked baffled but moved to the center of the room and began a sword form. Whenever his arms tired from the parries and thrusts against an imagined opponent, he would set the sword aside and do leg exercises such as squats, then return to the sword form when his thighs began to shake. The whole routine lasted over an hour, though Olrox slipped in and out, wanting to watch but also needing to feed. He found a would-be rapist a block away, then a lordling beating a cowering servant two streets over. The rapist he left barely alive at the feet of his most recent victim, who promptly stomped on his neck and broke it. The lordling—as the more dangerous of the two, since anyone suspected of his murder would face consequences—he drained dry, then left him in a ditch outside of town. Let the buzzards feast: no one was likely to miss him any time soon.
When Mizrak finally ended his exercises, shaky and sweating, Olrox dragged him upstairs, directing him to undress and lie down.
Mizrak shook his head doubtfully. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go again right now,” he told Olrox hesitantly.
The vampire smiled gently. “I know,” he murmured. “I’m offering a massage, to make sure you aren’t in pain later when your muscles decide to punish you for overworking them.”
“That was my standard routine, though,” Mizrak protested, though he proceeded to strip and lie down on his back, as requested.
“Standard when your body was used to it. But given how your limbs were shaking, I think you may need to slow down a little and work back up to that.” He sat beside Mizrak and began rubbing oil into his skin, digging his thumbs deep whenever he found tension.
Mizrak groaned as he bullied a knot out of the knight’s thigh. “You might be right about that,” he admitted reluctantly. “I just hate feeling helpless.”
“Try to think of it this way, then: if you build up slowly, you’ll be less helpless each day. But if you tear a muscle, even after I heal it, I’ll insist you take it easy for a few days to make sure you don’t make it worse again. So you’ll have lost progress over those days.”
Mizrak scowled, tensing. “What, will you take my gear to punish me for being careless?” he snapped.
Clearly touched a nerve there, Olrox mused. Time for damage control. “Of course not,” he soothed. “But I’ll be hovering so close you’ll trip over me, fretting the entire time.” He pulled the corners of his mouth down in an exaggerated frown, then stuck his lower lip out in as pitiful a pout as he could make.
Mizrak snorted and relaxed. “I suppose I’ll have to be careful, then. Otherwise, you might strain something in your face and get stuck like that.”
“If that happened, I might have to wear a bag over my head, or no one would take me seriously ever again,” Olrox chuckled, lifting Mizrak’s arms to begin massaging the tendons above his wrists.
“Well, I’d hate not being able to see your face. So I’ll be extra careful, then,” Mizrak murmured, smiling slightly.
“I appreciate that. Now, time for your back—would you rather roll over or sit up?” Did he feel safe enough to lie on his stomach with Olrox looming over him? Or would he choose the more defensible position?
“Hm. I’d better sit up.” Olrox kept his facial features still, refusing to let his sorrow show. “I don’t want to fall asleep,” Mizrak continued. “And a little more time to digest after eating might be nice before we go—I’ve gotten used to it, mostly, but traveling like that is worse on a full stomach.”
Oh, thought Olrox happily as Mizrak sat up and faced away from him. He trusts me enough to fall asleep while I’m awake and touching him! Yes, he’d fallen asleep in Olrox’s arms before, but never with his back turned, and always with Olrox lying down to sleep as well. “I’ll try to remember to allow some time in the schedule for that, going forward,” he murmured. “How long are you thinking?”
“Ten to twenty minutes should be enough. Unless I’m feeling overfull, for some reason—will the eggs make me feel bloated and unable to eat as much?”
Olrox frowned. “I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “But one of my fledglings did mention something about particular foods being better or worse. I’ll have to dig his letters out of my trunk downstairs and look through them.”
“You saved your fledglings’ old letters and brought them with you?” Mizrak asked, mildly surprised. “If they’re that important to you, why didn’t you just leave them at home? What if something happened to them while you’re travelling?”
“Then I would lose them, but hopefully that won’t be a problem anytime soon. And even if I’m acting similarly to the French nobility, I don’t actually have an ancestral home to cling to as they do. I don’t have a permanent residence—I tend to move around every few months, so that trunk contains everything important to me.”
Mizrak looked over his shoulder at the vampire, expression sad for some reason. “You could stay here,” he suggested quietly. “After Báthory’s gone, I mean. I’m sure Madame Duval and the others would hate to see you go.”
But nothing about how he would miss the vampire, Olrox noted. Not wanting to argue—or worse, to explain how many times he’d thought he’d found a home in the first hundred years, before he was inevitably driven out—Olrox hummed. “Perhaps.”
***
The second night after fertilizing the eggs, Mizrak again sat at Olrox’s feet. The conversation around him was uninteresting, and Olrox’s snapping at the other vampires’ every move wasn’t as amusing tonight. Instead, he focused on his brethren across the hall.
Most of them seemed to be faring as well as they could be, but Edouard looked worse than ever. There was barely a square inch of his limbs and torso that wasn’t bruised or scabbed. Someone had even blacked one of his eyes, and his jaw seemed swollen. He huddled under a thin blanket again, even though one of the thicker furs wasn’t in use. And every time a vampire came for him—far more frequently than they came for any of the others, claimed or free use—he seemed to sink further into himself.
When Edouard accepted his bowl of gruel from the servant handing them out and only put it down next to him, untouched, Mizrak couldn’t stand it anymore. He laid a hand on Olrox’s knee to draw his attention.
Olrox had been sitting stiffly and silently in his chair, so unlike his usual lounge and relaxed conversation, and he bared his fangs anytime anyone moved even a finger in his general direction. But he’d obviously been paying at least some attention to Mizrak, because he didn’t startle at the touch, just looked down.
Mizrak tipped his head toward Edouard, eyes pleading. Olrox’s eyes flicked in that direction, and he scowled. Rising and pulling Mizrak to his feet, he left the sitting area without a word to the other vampires, bringing Mizrak along with him.
When he stopped in front of Edouard, the man didn’t even look up, simply let go of the blanket in expectation of being dragged somewhere. Olrox snarled softly, and Edouard’s eyes widened, terrified, but he still refused to look up.
Olrox crouched in front of him and gently gripped his jaw, ignoring Edouard’s flinch. A soft crunching sound and whimper from the abused young man made Mizrak shudder, but he watched appreciatively as the swelling in Edouard’s jaw and around his eye diminished.
Olrox let go, and Edouard tested his jaw, opening and closing it without wincing. Finally he met the vampire’s eyes and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Olrox rose, surreptitiously glancing around at the other knights and Jacques. Finding their conditions satisfactory, he pulled Mizrak toward where Báthory sat with a group of others, watching him. “Countess, I’m leaving for the night,” he said gruffly.
“You felt the need to heal one of the slaves before adjourning?” she asked, one eyebrow arched.
“If he can’t eat, he’s useless for breeding or feeding purposes. Someone needs a reminder that humans are fragile. I would’ve thought you would be eager to give that reminder, since you already disapproved once of a follower killing one of your gifts,” he growled.
Báthory waved him off. “A broken jaw doesn’t kill quickly. Likely he would have healed on his own before he starved. You may go.”
Olrox gave her a curt nod, seized Mizrak’s forearm, and carried them home. Upon reforming in their bedroom, he released Mizrak and began to stalk back and forth, muttering angrily under his breath.
Mizrak stripped off his soiled tunic, trousers, and socks, then sat on the foot of the bed in his braies, watching Olrox anxiously. Finally, he asked, “Are you angry that you had to heal Edouard, or at what she said?” If it was the former, he had no intention of apologizing for asking the vampire to help, though he might offer to make it up to Olrox somehow. Within limits on what form that reparation would take, but he wasn’t overly worried anymore that the vampire would push for anything he’d hate.
“Both!” Olrox snapped. “I shouldn’t have to heal any of them, because they shouldn’t be getting injured like that! What are those imbeciles thinking? If she doesn’t rein them in, they will end up killing another, and then she’ll be offended while also being partially at fault! Not that she’d see it that way, but—” He buried his face in his hands and groaned.
Mizrak blinked. “So you’re not upset that I asked you to heal him, in front of all of them?” That was something he hadn’t anticipated. He’d been fairly sure Olrox wouldn’t punish him, only insist he wouldn’t heal anyone again and scold Mizrak for pushing him to do so this time.
Olrox dropped his hands and turned toward Mizrak, eyes wide and brow furrowed. “No,” he said softly. “No, you had every right to ask. And I wouldn’t mind healing injuries from everyday perils such as tripping, or even from something like sparring. But there was no good reason for him to have a blacked eye and a broken jaw, even ignoring the other bruises. I have absolutely no doubt that someone did that because they can—because she won’t stop them. And it disgusts me.” He walked over and cupped Mizrak’s cheek in his palm. “I’m not angry with you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Mizrak leaned into the touch with a sigh, closing his eyes and saying nothing. After a moment, Olrox said quietly, “You didn’t get anything to eat before we left. Let me check if Madame Duval is still awake and willing to make you something hot. I would assume so, since your late meal isn’t on the table.”
“All right,” Mizrak murmured. He wasn’t terribly hungry at the moment, but he certainly wouldn’t turn down a hot meal. Especially Madam Duval’s cooking.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like? Amelia asked me yesterday to let Madame Duval know if you enjoyed the evening meal, but I forgot until just now.”
“Everything she’s made so far has been delicious,” Mizrak told him. As far as something he’d particularly enjoy eating … given the chance to eat anything the world, he’d choose a qassatat with fava beans and ricotta, but he doubted Madam Duval would know how to make the Maltese dish, if she even had the ingredients for it. But maybe she’d be able to make something similar to Stuffat tal-Fenek. “It’s slow cooking, so maybe for tomorrow night, but if she doesn’t mind, rabbit stewed with vegetables, garlic, and a little red wine would be very good. Or maybe skip the garlic,” he added, brows furrowing.
Olrox laughed. “You can have the garlic—that’s a myth. But thank you for thinking of me. Anything in particular for tonight?”
“No, whatever is quick. I don’t want to keep her up late cooking just for me,” Mizrak replied.
Olrox gave him a fond look. “I’ll let her know,” he murmured, then ventured out into the hall and downstairs. Mizrak pulled on a clean tunic and pair of trousers to sit at the table, humming as he reminisced about food from his childhood. Whatever Madame Duval made, it was sure to be good, even if it didn’t taste the same.
Olrox soon returned with Madam Duval on his heels. She’d brought pea soup, with beans and salt pork for flavor, along with a loaf of bread. “I’ll see what I can do for the dish you requested for tomorrow. There’s plenty of vegetables and garlic, and a good amount of wine in the cellars. And I’m sure Master Olrox can find some rabbits nearby. In the meantime, is the soup all right?”
Mizrak tasted it and hummed. “Delicious, as always,” he told her warmly. She seemed relieved.
“I did try to tell her you’d enjoyed everything, but she wanted to hear it from you,” Olrox informed him with a half-smile. “She never believes me.”
“That’s because you don’t tell things like they are.” Turning to Mizrak, she explained, “I asked him to pick up a certain kind of cheese, if they had it in the market. He brought it back, said it was no trouble—and then I find out he got it from three towns over, because the normal seller hasn’t been through in months! No trouble, indeed!”
“If I rode a horse or drove a carriage three towns over, it would be trouble. But traveling in smoke form takes very little time. As you recall, I was only gone an hour,” Olrox told her, smiling. “I said it was no trouble because it was exactly that.”
Madame Duval harumphed, continuing to talk to Mizrak as if Olrox hadn’t said anything. “So I wanted to hear from you, since he’d say it was ‘fine’ even if you were barely able to choke it down!”
Olrox’s cry of “No, I wouldn’t!” overlapped with Mizrak’s comment of “That hasn’t been a problem, I assure you.” “I’ve enjoyed everything,” the knight continued.
“But you’d enjoy something else more. And it’s my job to make you whatever you want! So you have to tell me, please.” She honestly looked upset.
“I will. But the dish I asked for is something I ate as a child in Malta. It won’t be quite the same, since the ingredients and proportions may be different. But I’m sure I’ll enjoy your version of it all the same,” Mizrak assured her.
She had a thoughtful look on her face as she said, “Very well. Eat hearty, and sleep well.” With that, she excused herself.
Olrox sighed ruefully. “I know that look. She’s going to find a way to make that dish as close to authentic as it can be, while not being made in Malta.”
“She really doesn’t have to do that!” Mizrak protested between bites. The soup was quite good, and the bread was excellent as always.
“You know that, and I know that. But I don’t think she cares. She does this, sometimes, trying to make dishes for the others exactly how their families once made them. She won’t take no for an answer,” said Olrox.
Mizrak sighed, shaking his head. “Then I won’t say it, so long as she doesn’t wear herself down by doing this.”
“We’ll all make sure she’s all right,” Olrox assured him.
Mizrak finished his meal, deposited the remains on the hearth, and prepared himself for bed. Olrox soon followed, wrapping his arms around the knight, and Mizrak fell asleep, safe in the embrace of his vampire.
Chapter Text
Mizrak waited for Olrox to finish dressing for court. His day up to this point had been wonderful, despite the circumstances, and most of it was thanks to the vampire in front of him.
He’d woken around noon again, speaking briefly with Olrox before heading downstairs to train. He’d overdone it, though not as much as the day before, and Olrox had given him another massage. He’d asked the vampire to fuck him after that and had enjoyed it immensely. Napping until an hour before they left, he’d then been treated to Madame Duval’s stewed rabbit dish, which had been surprisingly close to the Stuffat tal-Fenek he remembered. Olrox had mused that she’d found someone to ask for the recipe; Mizrak wasn’t sure who in the area would be familiar with it, but he was delighted all the same. He was determined to offer his thanks as soon as he saw her again.
Before they left, Olrox tucked a book in his jacket pocket. Odd, but Mizrak didn’t spend time worrying about it, taking the vampire’s hand. A moment later, they stood on the balcony just outside the ballroom, where Báthory’s court had already settled in for the night. Olrox led them over to a group of vampires with a single empty chair.
Expecting to be asked to sit at Olrox’s feet, Mizrak was shocked when Olrox seized the back of the chair with one hand and began hauling it across the room, pulling the knight along with the other. Mizrak knew the vampire could have easily lifted the heavy chair, so the fact that he allowed it to screech noisily across the marble floor was entirely deliberate.
Placing the chair ten feet from the hearth, facing out towards the rest of the room, Olrox sat. He gestured for Mizrak to grab a fur and sit at his feet, then pulled out his book and seemingly began to read, idly stroking Mizrak’s hair once he settled.
No one, vampires or humans alike, moved for a long moment. Then conversation started up again, likely with Olrox’s strange action as the primary topic. Mizrak leaned against Olrox’s left leg, furthest from the balcony doors and the cold air, content to be closer to the other humans. Whether they dared to approach or not, he could at least keep a closer eye on them.
Except Edouard wasn’t with the group, or even on the fringes. Mizrak looked around the room, trying to spot him. That group didn’t have any vampires using slaves … nor did that one … not even the group over with Báthory. Where was he?
A muffled yelp drew his attention to closed double doors leading back into the rest of the chateau. A moment later, the doors were thrown open, and Edouard skidded into the room on his side, obviously having been pushed or kicked. The young man had his arms wrapped around his head and neck, legs curled tight to his middle to protect as much of himself as possible.
A group of four vampires followed, laughing and kicking him until he was no longer in the way. They then closed the doors and split up to join different conversations.
Edouard uncurled after a moment. A cut above his eye bled sluggishly, and he had to wipe blood from his face to clear his vision. As he turned toward the hearth and its usual promise of partial safety, he froze, hardly breathing, clearly having spotted Olrox.
Mizrak waved his hand, beckoning him over. Edouard glanced at him, then slowly began to crawl—not straight toward Mizrak, but vaguely in his direction, seemingly trying to avoid attracting Olrox’s attention. He finally reached Mizrak’s feet from slightly behind Olrox, hesitating to move any closer.
Mizrak parted his thighs and patted the floor between them. “Come here,” he murmured. Edouard shot a nervous look at Olrox but moved closer, until Mizrak could reach out and draw him in. Finally, Edouard lay sideways between Mizrak’s legs, head on his chest and back to the rest of the room. He shuddered and went limp as the tension finally left his muscles, probably realizing he would be safe for a time. He tensed briefly when Olrox turned a page, but then relaxed again when nothing more happened. Mizrak petted his hair, as Olrox was still absently petting his own, and Edouard dozed.
About half an hour passed before Drolta came over to stand in front of Olrox—while still staying half a dozen feet away. He growled but didn’t look up from his book. “Why are you sitting with the slaves and reading, rather than joining the rest of us?” the pink-haired vampire asked pointedly.
“I told you and Báthory both that the brooding hormones would make me overprotective—it’s why you’re all the way over there, because you already know that I’ll attack if you take a single step closer,” Olrox told her bluntly, turning a page. “If you believe me enough to stay back, why would you think I’d want to sit near any of you?”
“Then why are you sitting with the slaves?” Drolta repeated. “To spoil your own? I’d never have believed you were so soft, based on the tales we heard before my mistress summoned you. And yet you pander to his whims time and again.”
Olrox finally looked up from his book, green eyes narrowed and fangs bared. “The only reason I came tonight was to show my face, as your mistress requested. I could have chosen an empty corner, but yes, I might as well offer my pet a chance to spend time with his counterparts. After tomorrow evening, moving around will be difficult for him. At some point, he may not be able to sit down on the floor at all. So I don’t see the harm in giving him something that doesn’t affect me. If you think that makes me soft, feel free to step closer,” he finished with a wicked grin.
Drolta didn’t move. Wise choice, Mizrak thought idly. “You’re not snapping and snarling at the slaves,” she mused in an overly-sweet tone. “Do you hate our kind, Olrox?”
He snorted. “Should I viciously attack kittens, lest they scratch my pet? Perhaps the worms in the garden as an extra precaution? No. I react poorly to potential threats. Are you telling me you consider any of the humans in this room to be threats?”
Drolta smirked. “You compare the humans to worms, and yet offer your pet treats and luxuries? Such odd taste you have, Olrox.”
Olrox sneered. “If that’s how you interpreted what I said, you clearly weren’t paying attention. I don’t eat or fuck worms, Drolta. Now go away,” he said rudely, looking back down at his book.
Drolta laughed. “I’m afraid I won’t be leaving just yet. My mistress wants confirmation on when you’ll begin laying the eggs, and that you’ll be doing so in the gardens, as requested.”
Olrox huffed. “Unless it’s raining, I’ll be in the gardens at sundown. And I’m not laying eggs, I’m inserting them to be incubated. Do try to remember the correct terminology. Now get lost, before I decide you’re a threat even as far back as you are. I’d probably shift and eat you, which would be terrible for my digestion.”
Drolta smirked but left, having gotten what she wanted. Olrox growled softly. “If she’s even three times that distance away tomorrow while I’m inserting the eggs, I will eat her, indigestion be damned.” Mizrak fought back a smile.
Edouard stirred, and Mizrak focused his attention back on the younger man. Edouard must be exhausted, to not have woken when Olrox and Drolta were arguing, he mused.
They stayed for another hour before Olrox admitted silently, // I know you want to be sure your companion gets a chance to rest, but they’ll be suspicious if we stay much longer. We’re already leaving later than the past two nights. I might be able to explain that as the lower threat level, but we still need to go.//
Mizrak nodded slightly and patted Edouard’s cheek gently. Hazy blue eyes opened, and he whispered, “I have to go now.” Not fully awake, Edouard whimpered slightly and buried his face in Mizrak’s neck. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’ll see you tomorrow, but I’ll be here the following night.”
Edouard nodded slowly and drew back. “Thank you,” he whispered, then scooted closer to the fire, taking the fur Mizrak pushed toward him. He watched as Mizrak and Olrox stood; might have watched them leave, too, though Mizrak didn’t dare look back, with all the vampires watching.
“I wish we could do more for him,” he told Olrox once they’d returned home. He picked at his meal, worrying too much to eat. Olrox hummed, looking contemplative, but he didn’t reply. Mizrak finished eating, wiped down with a damp towel rather than bathing, and crawled into bed.
Olrox soon joined him; when Mizrak couldn’t relax long enough to sleep, the vampire murmured, “I’ll try to think of something, some way to help him. Rest.”
Mizrak didn’t feel quite ready to rest, with thoughts tumbling around in his head. But changing the subject might help him relax, at least. “I didn’t know you ate in your other form,” Mizrak said quietly. “Do you have to eat a whole flock of sheep when you shift? I pity the farmers nearby.”
“Not a whole flock, no. I don’t tend to eat large amounts in that form unless I’m expending an unusual amount of energy while shifted. Preparing for tomorrow night, I might need to eat half a dozen sheep, or maybe a few cows. Normally I just have a deer every few days,” Olrox murmured. “They taste better, anyway. Do you enjoy venison?”
“I haven’t had it more than two or three times. Nobles don’t like it when you hunt on their lands. But I enjoyed it, yes,” Mizrak replied.
Olrox grinned. “Maybe I’ll bring you back some, next time I hunt. You’ll be eating a lot more meat over the next few months.”
“You found the letters, then?” Mizrak asked.
“They didn’t need to be found so much as fetched and sorted through. And yes, I found what I was looking for. You’ll be eating primarily meat and purees of fruits, with the occasional vegetable. Too much of anything else will cause problems, when your intestines are narrowed by the eggs,” the vampire explained.
“Oh—I thought they would seal my intestines off completely, to not fall out,” Mizrak admitted.
“No—that might kill you, if there was no way to eliminate solid waste. You just won’t want anything that adds too much bulk, or that the eggs won’t absorb as it passes by, namely the remains of the meat.”
“I see.” The extra meat would help with his training regimen, but he wasn’t sure how much energy he would have with just fruit purees. Though Olrox did say primarily … and he would certainly be better off than Edouard.
Mizrak sighed, body still tense with worry. Olrox pulled him closer, murmuring, “Give me time to think of something. We won’t abandon your friend.” Mizrak nodded, sliding into sleep assured that Olrox would come up with something. He always had so far.
***
To say Madame Duval was unhappy about the upcoming changes in Mizrak’s diet was akin to saying that Báthory’s presence and plans were mildly inconvenient. “How is he supposed to regain his health on nothing but meat and fruit?” she yelled, standing in the middle of the salon where Olrox had chosen to have this conversation. He was relieved that Mizrak had their bedroom to retreat to, if necessary, though he was beginning to regret having this conversation in such a central location. The doors to the rest of the house were closed, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the other three members of the household had chosen tasks that allowed them to linger just outside the door.
“I said primarily meat and fruit purees,” Olrox explained patiently. “Small amounts of other foods will be beneficial, just nothing fibrous or starchy—”
“That’s not acceptable!” she shouted over him. “I thought you were trying to help him! And now this? You’re just as bad as the rest of them, forcing him to carry your children!”
Olrox closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. “If there was any other way, I would have chosen that,” he said quietly. “As it stands—”
“Then you haven’t tried hard enough to find another way!” the woman snapped. “Just because some other vampire told you to do something, it doesn’t mean—”
“I chose this!” Mizrak roared, startling both Olrox and Madame Duval. He hadn’t said anything up to this point, sitting back in the armchair he’d chosen and allowing Olrox to explain. Now he was on his feet, jaw clenched and eyes blazing as he met Madame Duval’s gaze. “Olrox offered this as an option only because I asked. He’s not forcing this on me: if anything, it’s the other way around.”
“No, Mizrak—” Olrox began to protest, but the knight shot him a glare, and he closed his mouth. They would discuss this later, he promised himself. He wouldn’t allow Mizrak to think he was taking advantage of Olrox in any way.
“I won’t be safe from the other vampires unless I’m pregnant. Olrox can only do so much. He offered to let me carry the eggs because I can’t—I can’t bear to—” Mizrak looked away from them both, mouth tight.
Madame Duval approached him and gently laid a hand on his bicep. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to question your decision. Please understand, I don’t like the circumstances, or the timing of all this,” she told him.
“None of us do,” Olrox murmured. “But I vowed I would do anything I could to keep him safe. This is how he’ll feel safest, out of all the options we discussed. I won’t deny him that.” Even if the woman disapproved. Even if the household scorned him, leaving or insisting he leave. The only person that could stop him inserting his eggs into Mizrak was the knight himself: if he changed his mind upon seeing the vampire’s serpent form, Olrox would expel the eggs onto the grass to die, then try to come up with an excuse that Báthory would accept. He probably should’ve allowed Mizrak to see his other form before he told Báthory, for that matter. But there was no changing it now.
“I apologize for comparing you to those other vampires,” Madame Duval said, turning to Olrox. “You’re nothing like them, and I know that. I’m just worried.” Olrox nodded his acceptance of the apology, though the fact that she had said it at all must mean there was doubt. He definitely shouldn’t get too comfortable here, in preparation for having to leave at some point in the future.
“As am I,” the vampire murmured. “You’re welcome to peruse the letters from my fledglings, in case I missed something important.” He didn’t think he had, having read through all of them, dozens of pages from a handful of people, to check for offhand comments that might provide necessary information. But what did it matter if she looked through them, if it might help Mizrak? Nothing she could find in them would hurt anyone besides himself. He would persevere; he always did.
“That might help, if you don’t mind,” Madame Duval agreed.
“I’ll fetch them now,” Olrox said smoothly, rising and opening the salon door. Amelia was hard at work scrubbing the entryway’s tile floor—he would float to the stairs and back in order not to leave footprints behind. Thomas had lowered the chandelier and was carefully polishing the brass fittings. Bertrand, meanwhile, had decided there was no time like the present to inspect the tiles for damage and replace any that were chipped or worn. He’d already pried out three and inserted new ones, and the dust he was leaving behind wouldn’t make Amelia very happy.
All of them paused what they were doing to look at him, but he smiled slightly and waved a hand, and they went back to their chosen tasks. Fetching the letters and returning, closing the door behind him for the sake of appearances, he heard Madam Duval whispering “—you’re sure you want this?” from where she perched on the coffee table. Mizrak had moved to the couch, next to where Olrox had been previously.
“I’m sure,” Mizrak told her, then turned to Olrox. “How much time do we have left before we leave? I’d like to get some more training in this afternoon.”
“Three hours. That should be plenty of time.” He handed Madame Duval the stack of letters, secured with a faded blue ribbon, then sat down on the couch beside Mizrak, leaving a few inches between their thighs in case he wanted space. The knight immediately moved closer and leaned into him, and Olrox happily wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“Is there anything else we need to discuss?” he asked, pitching his voice slightly louder than normal to ensure those in the entry hall heard him. They would quickly wrap up their tasks, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping by Madame Duval. She likely disapproved of eavesdropping. “The evening meal, perhaps?”
Madame Duval gave him an odd look at the raised voice but replied, “Nothing I’m aware of. I’ll look through these before I start cooking, to make sure I know what ingredients to use.”
Olrox nodded. “I’ll be hunting venison this afternoon. Would you like me to bring some back, or would it be easier to get meat from the butcher after it’s been properly dressed?”
“Mister Thomas knows how to dress a deer. And I suppose we don’t have to worry about nobles protesting that you’re poaching, since they have other things to worry about,” she mused.
“Indeed. Thinning the herd before the population gets too large might help the farmers, as well. Though I’ll make sure not to overhunt, especially with spring approaching,” Olrox mentioned, mostly to buy a little more time for those rushing to vacate the entry hall. Amelia was quietly scolding Bertrand for the dust left behind, and Bertrand was vowing to clean it up himself.
“I’ll let Mister Thomas know to sharpen his knives,” Madame Duval told them, rising. “I’ll expect regular updates on how you’re handling the food, Mister Mizrak.”
“Of course,” he told her, and together knight and vampire watched her leave. When she was out of earshot, Mizrak asked, “Were you trying to warn someone we were almost done talking, after you came back? Or did you lose some of your hearing between here and our bedroom?”
Olrox laughed quietly. “The former. And three someones. They looked surprised when I left the room, but they were watching the door more than me.”
“Clearly they know who gives the orders around here,” Mizrak said, grinning at him.
“As it should be. I’m just here for appearance’s sake,” Olrox insisted with a small smile. “It should be safe to venture out, now.”
“Good. I’ll fetch my gear and get started.” He moved to the doorway, then stopped and turned back. “Olrox … are you really all right with all of this? With us … having eggs?” he asked worriedly.
Olrox moved to stand in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m fine, I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I didn’t give you much of a choice about this, though,” Mizrak said hesitantly.
“I wouldn’t have offered this as an option, if I couldn’t bear you choosing it,” Olrox murmured.
“But you didn’t want children yet,” Mizrak protested. “You said so yourself.”
“I said I hadn’t expected to have children in the near future, not that I wouldn’t want them. If Báthory hadn’t been an issue, and we either hadn’t met or had met under different circumstances, that might still be true. But things changed. You’re not coercing me into anything,” he soothed.
“Thank you,” whispered Mizrak, taking a step closer and hugging him. “For caring.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Olrox murmured into his ear.
They held each other for a few moments longer. Then Mizrak headed for the stairs to fetch his mail and sword, and Olrox shifted to smoke and flowed out of the house. Time to build up his energy for tonight.
Notes:
Oviposition is in part of the next chapter. That section will be skippable without missing any plot.
Chapter 10
Notes:
If anyone would prefer to skip the oviposition part, I’ll separate it with “XXX” above and below it. You won’t be missing any of the plot in that section.
Chapter Text
It was almost time. They’d spent the last half hour lying in bed, stretching and lubricating Mizrak’s passage. The knight had also insisted on kissing him continually during that time, which Olrox was too selfish to refuse. He would save the memories for when everything ended.
As soon as the sun set, Olrox transported them to the gardens outside the chateau. They stood at the far end of the gardens now, in an open area near the edge of the forest. Mizrak was wrapped in a large blanket, since Olrox couldn’t be sure how well his clothing would fit over his abdomen after this point. He’d asked the tailor to use extra fabric in the tunics and trousers to allow seams to be let out, both in the abdominal area and in the shoulders and thighs for when Mizrak regained muscle. After the eggs were laid, the extra fabric could be removed, leaving fully serviceable fitted clothing. The tailor had seemed to think he was quite mad, but he didn’t protest, given how well he was getting paid.
“It’s time,” Olrox murmured. “I’ll be able to speak into your mind while shifted, and I’ll understand anything you say. So, if at any point, you change your mind—”
“I know, you’ll stop if I say. Let’s get on with it, before I freeze,” the knight told him.
Olrox desperately wished they hadn’t waited until now for Mizrak to see his other form. He’d thought it was too late this afternoon, but they could’ve made time. What if he scared the knight? But now it really was far too late to change anything, so he allowed his body to shift. Colors flattened into shades of gray, and the moon blazed above him. He looked down at Mizrak, who was staring up at him open-mouthed. Lowering his head slowly, he told the knight, //It’s still me.//
Mizrak reached out a hand and felt along his snout, following his head up until he could feel the horns, the jewel-like structure on his brow, and the feathers in his mantle. “Incredible,” he murmured. “And when the eggs hatch, they’ll look like this, too?”
//Much smaller, of course. And there may be some variation in size and coloration. But yes, they’ll look very similar,// he told the knight.
XXX
“And … your other parts?” Mizrak asked.
Olrox huffed, amused how Mizrak was rarely distracted by anything for more than a moment before pulling them back on task. He coiled in a large circle around the knight, then flipped a section near his tail to face belly-up. A damp slit showed where his cocks would emerge. When Mizrak petted that area too, he rumbled, and Mizrak quickly withdrew his hand, looking up. //It’s all right, just sensitive,// he told the knight.
“So that was a good noise, not an angry one?” Mizrak asked.
//Yes,// Olrox confirmed. //You’ll likely be hearing a fair bit of it, if you choose to continue.//
“Can I see them first?” he asked.
//Keep petting the slit like you were before. They’ll push out when they’re ready.// Whether Mizrak would be ready then was another matter entirely.
Mizrak followed his instruction, and soon enough the first cock emerged, followed by the second. Mizrak ran his hands over them, too, and Olrox rumbled his pleasure. “I’m not going to be able to ride you,” Mizrak said suddenly. “Not if they’re this big. But you don’t have hands to move me—how does that work?”
//I’ll hold you in place—carefully—with my coils, then thrust. But that will only be until I’m fully inside you. Once the eggs start moving, neither of us will move until they’re all inserted.//
“Oh. So should I just—?” He moved forward to mount Olrox’s tail, but Olrox stopped him by moving his large head in the way, one glowing green eye staring deeply into Mizrak’s.
//Are you sure about this? If you don’t want this, we can find another way—// he told the knight.
Mizrak rolled his eyes and gave his snout a light push. “I’m sure. Now get on with it!” He stuffed the leather strap Olrox had found in between his teeth, then mounted Olrox’s tail above his cocks, sliding slowly backwards until they nudged his ass.
Olrox wrapped his upper coils tighter around his knight, then moved him into place for the left cock to slowly thrust forward.
Mizrak hung in his grip, head thrown back and jaw clenched tight around the leather, as the cock began sliding partway out before thrusting in again, slightly deeper each time. The knight whimpered at the first brush to his prostate; as the cock slid further in, no longer pulling back out past his prostate but sliding against it continuously, he began to keen, squirming slightly, hands grasping for something to hold onto.
//Are you all right?// Olrox asked, stilling. Mizrak nodded vigorously. //Do you need me to slow down?// Mizrak emphatically shook his head, staring up at Olrox as he panted. He was still trying to grasp at Olrox’s scales where his coils were wrapped around the knight’s chest, but they weren’t suited to being gripped. Olrox leaned his head down until part of his mantle was in reach, and Mizrak grabbed it, squeezing but not pulling any feathers. Not that Olrox would care, honestly. Any pain would be nothing compared to the pleasure of the tight squeeze of Mizrak’s body around him. He began to move again, and Mizrak moaned, clinging to his mantle. In … out … in … out … in!
Olrox was as deep as he could go, and the eggs surged within him. //They’re coming,// he said hazily, and Mizrak moaned eagerly.
The first moved into his cock, traveling slowly upwards. Mizrak screamed as it eased past his prostate, cock jerking hard. Finally, it settled deep within him, and he panted, looking up at Olrox with a challenge in his eyes.
The second egg began its journey, closely followed by the third. The two brushing past his prostate so close together drove him over the edge with a muffled howl, and he tightened deliciously around Olrox as his cock sprayed seed.
As he felt movement within him again, Olrox warned Mizrak, //Looks like there’s a fourth.// Mizrak nodded dazedly, clinging tighter to his mantle as the egg bullied its way into him. The moan he made when it came to a stop sounded relieved.
Olrox was about to pull that cock out when something shifted in him, flooding his body with heightened pleasure. The feeling moved further up, and he realized … //Five!// The last egg—and he was sure, now, that this was the last—moved slowly up and into Mizrak, who moaned desperately as it settled into place.
Olrox didn’t so much consciously withdraw the cock as it seemed to retract on its own, all the way back into his pouch. He moved the other into place, asking, //Ready?// Mizrak nodded weakly, and he pushed in, slowly but steadily, until he was fully buried. What felt like torrents of seed poured out of him into the knight clutched in his coils, and he lifted his head and roared. On and on it went, Mizrak keening as he came a second time.
What felt like hours later, but was probably a minute or two at most from beginning to end, the flood slowed and stopped. He pulled out and began shifting immediately, carefully cradling Mizrak as he moved. Finally, he sat with a limp Mizrak in his silk-covered lap. The knight’s belly was rounded as if he was several months pregnant, between the eggs and the amount of seed inside him.
XXX
“Mizrak? Are you all right?” he asked worriedly. The knight hadn’t moved yet, breathing rapidly through his nose, hands now buried in the lengths of Olrox’s hair. He gently teased the leather strap out from between the man’s teeth, and Mizrak whined. “Mizrak?”
The knight’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked exasperated. “Five?” he croaked.
Olrox huffed, leaning down to press his forehead against Mizrak’s for a moment in relief. “I honestly didn’t expect more than three. The fourth was a surprise, so the fifth …” He shrugged helplessly.
“Báthory damn well better be happy, because I am never doing that again!” Mizrak declared. As Olrox opened his mouth to apologize, the knight amended, “Or at least not for a long while. That was … a lot.”
“Agreed.” Olrox glanced up at the balcony and saw Báthory retreating back inside. He snarled quietly. “She watched at least part of that,” he murmured. “Now we have to go inside and report. I’ll try to keep it short.”
“You do that,” mumbled Mizrak. “I’m not moving for a week …” His eyes slid closed, rapidly falling asleep.
“I’ll carry you,” Olrox murmured, biting his tongue before he could let slip the “love” that wanted to follow. That, he would have to think hard about later, he promised himself as he wrapped the large blanket around his exhausted knight. He feared he might already be in too deep to get out of this without a broken heart.
***
Olrox carried his blanket-wrapped knight into the ballroom and headed straight for his usual couch. He raised an eyebrow at the vampires already sitting there, and they quickly moved, allowing him to sit with Mizrak cradled sideways in his lap. He ignored the other vampires who’d chosen this particular sitting area for the night, instead making sure Mizrak’s bare feet were covered by the blanket, then petting his hair as he slept.
As he’d expected, Báthory and Drolta soon wandered over to claim newly-vacated seats of their own. “So, he is carrying eggs, now,” Báthory mused. “Is that why you’re allowing him on the furniture?”
Olrox smirked. “Yes, he’s incubating our eggs. And technically, he’s not on the furniture—I am, and he’s in my lap.”
Drolta sniffed. “Semantics. So, did he manage four as you thought he might, or only the average three?”
Olrox’s smirk transformed into a toothy grin as he told her, “Five, actually.”
Drolta raised a brow. “Really? And they’re all expected to survive? Not a situation where you insert five to get three survivors?”
“Oh, no, the eggs are much hardier than that. I would be shocked if all five didn’t make it,” Olrox purred. “The only thing that could change that would be blunt force trauma, like when that idiot kicked him before—and if anyone harms my pet that drastically while he’s carrying, they’ll wish I was merciful enough to kill them outright.”
Báthory shrugged. “Everyone here knows what I would do if the gestation of one or more of my dhampirs is disrupted. I highly doubt that will be a problem,” she told him nonchalantly.
Ignoring the urge to snarl at her claiming his and Mizrak’s children, he murmured, “I hope that will be the case. But there are several of your followers, Countess, that I doubt have the wisdom or the memory to toe that line.”
“Oh? Who?” Báthory asked sharply.
“The Marquis, for one. He seems to blame me for the folly that led to the death of his slave. I’m afraid I don’t trust him to remember the potential consequences, should he try to avenge himself.” The vampire in question was moving their way even now, and he scowled thunderously at Olrox’s words. Olrox met his eyes calmly as he continued, “He may be our host, but I’m sure his wife would continue to be a more than competent hostess, should it come to that.”
“I don’t appreciate my subjects feuding—it distracts from the issues at hand. And you, Olrox, seem to be involved in more than your fair share,” Báthory told him pointedly.
“I assume many are envious that I’ve earned some measure of your favor, despite being one of the newer arrivals. I would never begin such a disagreement without provocation,” Olrox demurred. It was true enough, though perhaps less so in the case of the Marquis, given that he’d unwittingly egged the other vampire on. He’d hoped the fool would simply use another orifice, rather than continuing the same ineffective actions until he lost his temper enough to lash out.
“See that you don’t,” Báthory demanded. Looking at Mizrak, she asked, “I trust he will be less covered, in upcoming months, so we may monitor his progress?”
“He’ll still be fully clothed,” Olrox disagreed. “But I’m sure the changes will still be easy enough to track.”
Báthory huffed and walked away. Drolta lingered long enough to ask, “What would it take for you to leave off his clothing?”
Olrox smiled tightly. “Summer, perhaps.”
“You tread a very dangerous path, Olrox. See that you don’t wander off it,” Drolta growled, then followed her mistress.
That didn’t bode well. He might need to find a way to show Mizrak’s belly now and again. He wouldn’t leave his abdomen uncovered in these temperatures, but perhaps he could encourage Mizrak to lift the tunic now and then, to rub at his new belly? Or scratch at the itchy new skin as he grew? Olrox wouldn’t let it stretch thin enough to scar, but letting it itch a little was a possibility. Only if Mizrak agreed, though. They would figure something out.
Olrox let his gaze wander the hall until his eyes met the stare of the darker-skinned new slave who’d been so poorly treated—Edouard, if he correctly remembered what Mizrak had said. The young man looked away quickly when he saw Olrox’s eyes, but he’d been looking between him and Mizrak with dismay. Was he as worried about his friend as Mizrak was about him, in turn? Edouard didn’t look well at all, thin like he hadn’t been getting anything to eat, but at least none of his bones were currently broken, nor were any muscles or ligaments torn. He would have to manage tonight without Olrox healing anything, and without Mizrak there to soothe him.
And since he’d already spoken with Báthory, he would take his knight home to rest properly.
Chapter Text
Mizrak was exhausted. He’d slept all night and all day that first day, only waking in time to eat before they returned to court. He’d carefully lowered himself onto one of the furs in front of the fire with the others and promptly fallen asleep again, waking the next afternoon in their bed. Eating a quick meal of venison and fruit puree, he’d gone back to bed and dozed until court, then fallen asleep in front of the fire again. Now here he was, back in bed and waiting for Madame Duval to bring him his evening meal before they headed back to the chateau again—and all he wanted to do was sleep!
“Is this normal?” he asked with a yawn.
Olrox, perched on the bed beside him, nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it. “Several letters mentioned partners taking a few days to regain their energy.”
“Then why do you look so worried, if it’s normal?” Mizrak asked.
Olrox sighed. “The timing could have been better. You’re still trying to recover, but now you’ve only had two meals in the past two days. If you don’t eat again later tonight …”
“Wake me up to eat, then,” Mizrak told him, yawning again. “Not at the chateau, that gruel is hardly worth eating. But when you bring me home, just wake me for a few minutes.”
Olrox brightened at that, more than Mizrak really felt was warranted just for permission to wake him. But he’d yet to fully understand Olrox’s thought processes anyway, so maybe it would’ve made sense in context.
The door opened, and Madam Duval bustled in with a tray. “I’ve brought you more venison, in gravy this time, and some apple puree. And I brought a small bowl of pudding, to see if you have any interest in it. Master Olrox did say you could have small amounts of other things, so you might enjoy it?”
Mizrak smiled. “It’s certainly worth trying. I’m sure it will be delicious.” He walked slowly over to the table, where Olrox pulled out a chair for him and helped him sit. He ate the venison hungrily and eagerly devoured the bowl of puree. After eating three large bites of the pudding, he put it aside.
In answer to the questioning looks of both his companions, he explained, “It’s probably best to see how I manage with a smaller amount before trying to eat more. It’s wonderful, as I expected,” he assured Madame Duval, who seemed to worry over his eating habits like a cat with one kitten. She curtsied and left, smiling.
Stomach full, he yawned, then grumbled, “I hope I get more energy soon.”
“Hopefully sometime tomorrow,” Olrox agreed, helping him up and leading him over to the armchair, as he’d done the night before. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”
After ten minutes, Mizrak fought his way to his feet, ignoring Olrox’s murmur that he could have helped. The trip to the chateau was as quick as ever; this time, Olrox allowed them to reform at the edge of the sea of blankets and furs in front of the fire, rather than forcing Mizrak to wobble his way across the room. As soon as Mizrak was comfortably wrapped in a fur, with the others nearby, he drifted off.
He woke slowly to the sounds of an argument. “—no use for him, so let him service someone else!” someone snarled.
Olrox’s voice responded sharply, “There are other slaves you can use for tonight. This one is tending mine, so leave it alone.”
“Just because you spoil your slave doesn’t mean—”
Mizrak ignored the voices and rubbed his cheek against the blanket under him. The surface had more give than normal, like it wasn’t just barely cushioning him from the hard tile. His arms were wrapped around something—someone?—warm, and his eyes slowly opened to meet Edouard’s blue ones. The skin around his eyes was tight with anxiety as they flicked back over Mizrak’s shoulder to where the voices were still arguing.
It took Mizrak’s tired brain several minutes to realize that he was wrapped around Edouard, who had an arm cushioning his head, and that their positioning had led to the argument. “—disturb him, I’ll tear off whatever limb you use to do it and feed it to you! How many times must I make it clear to you simpletons that none of you have the right to touch what’s mine?” Olrox growled.
“What is all the fuss about now?” Drolta’s voice rang out above the arguing. “I thought the absurd overprotectiveness would only last while you were brooding, Olrox. But here you are coddling your slave again.”
“On the contrary, the instinctive attacks on threats were limited to the brooding phase. My being protective of what’s mine was true before that ever began, and it will continue to be true long after he lays the eggs. And these first days are crucial to maintaining his health and thus the survival of my offspring. I won’t have him disturbed just because a pathetic cretin whines about one slave or another,” Olrox told her firmly.
Mizrak lay still, eyes closed again and breathing like he continued to sleep. He had no intention of putting himself or Edouard at risk by revealing the argument had woken him.
“If you don’t want someone else to move him, why don’t you do it?” someone shouted.
“That seems reasonable to me,” Drolta purred.
“I’m only going to risk waking him when I’m ready to take him home,” Olrox said tightly. “If your mistress is satisfied that I’ve shown my face, I’ll take him now. Otherwise, he’s not moving.”
Drolta huffed. She must have made some sort of hand motion, because Mizrak felt Olrox gently lift the arm he had over Edouard, presumably in preparation to lift him. He groaned softly, as if he was still asleep and unhappy about being moved. He let his eyes open again and meet Edouard’s. The younger man looked resigned to his fate, and Mizrak wished desperately that he could do something. As Olrox lifted him, he allowed himself to whine and turn his head, looking around blearily.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Olrox hissed to their audience. “This is precisely what I wanted to avoid.” Not giving them a chance to answer, he transported them out.
Setting Mizrak down on the bed, he asked, “How much of that were you actually awake for?”
“Only the last few minutes. Someone wanted to pull me away so they could take Edouard?” he asked.
Olrox nodded, fetching the plate of salt pork and bowl of puree on the table and bringing them over to Mizrak where he sat on the foot of the bed. “Eat. I’m not sure if your friend was simply caring for you as you’ve done for him, deliberately seeking safety by lying down with you, or something in between. Whatever his motivation, he curled up around you about five minutes after we arrived, and you reached for him in your sleep.
“It kept the other vampires away for a time—they chose other humans to torment or just decided to wait. But one of Báthory’s sycophants, Vaublanc, seems to be obsessed with your friend. He was reaching out to drag him away, which would have pulled you along partway and then dropped your head to the floor. That gave me an excuse to intervene. Then Drolta showed up to put her two livres in, and you know how it went from there.”
Mizrak scowled. “I’m not sure which one this Vaublanc is, but if he’s the one tormenting Edouard because he lost his estate in Saint-Domingue, he deserves to be in the deepest pits of Hell.”
“Agreed. And he is from Saint-Domingue, though there could be others that are, as well,” Olrox mused. “Are you feeling more awake now?”
Mizrak smiled up at him. “I’m starting to. I still want to sleep, probably at least a few more hours, but I might get out of bed tomorrow, maybe even venture downstairs.”
Olrox’s brow furrowed. “As long as you’re careful, that should be fine. Though I’d recommend giving it another day before you begin training again.”
Mizrak shrugged, then yawned. “I’ll see how I feel. And I’ll be careful, regardless. My balance is questionable right now, I’ll have to get used to the difference.” Handing the dishes back to Olrox, he crawled up the bed and flopped down with his head on the pillow. Normally he would worry about bringing the grime from the chateau into their bed, but just now, he was too tired to care. Hopefully Amelia and Madame Duval would forgive him for making extra work for them …
***
Olrox was pleased to see that, over the course of a few days, Mizrak’s energy levels had continued to improve. He still dozed through court in front of the fire with his brethren, tended by Edouard when the other man wasn’t being abused elsewhere. But he’d done half of his training regimen the day before; now he was putting on his chainmail again, though it bunched up some around his middle, preparing to go through as much of the routine as possible.
“Take breaks when you need them,” Olrox encouraged him. “And please be careful.”
“I will be,” Mizrak promised. “Not staying to watch like yesterday?”
“Not if you want more venison. You’re going through it rather quickly,” Olrox told him, smiling softly.
“I could switch to beef or mutton, if that’s easier,” Mizrak offered, frowning.
Olrox stepped forward and pulled the knight into an embrace. “Let me spoil you for now,” he murmured. “There’s still an overabundance of deer in the area.”
Mizrak smiled. “If you insist.” He pulled on his gloves, then headed for the door. Booted feet tromped downstairs, and Olrox smiled fondly before dissolving into smoke.
After hunting and feeding, he returned to the house and made sure Mizrak was well fed. The pudding was an excellent idea of Madam Duval’s, rich enough that his knight wouldn’t starve while not being fibrous or starchy, and he devoured it tonight.
Having seen Mizrak settled in front of the fire when they reached the chateau, he wandered over to his usual seat, only half-listening to the conversation. Something about the national guard moving closer—not his problem. Drolta seemed interested; Báthory was more interested in her newest little plaything.
Looking around, he saw the young man Edouard was thinner than ever and sported a new hand-shaped bruise on his throat. It clearly hadn’t endangered his life, but no doubt the swelling made swallowing or speaking painful. Not that any of the others would have any interest in hearing him speak, just cry or scream.
Vaublanc was enjoying tormenting the human. He was currently playing stupid little games of noughts and crosses with another vampire, gouging the lines of the board and each move into Edouard’s skin. At least a dozen filled boards were scattered across his limbs and torso, and they seemed to be playing less to win and more to cause damage, as every box in every board was filled. Edouard looked like he was very close to going into shock from the pain and total blood loss. If anything exemplified a court full of vampires already gorged on blood, it was this—wasting it for a game.
The conversation around him had shifted to betting which vampire would sire the next dhampir. Olrox smiled smugly and refused to place a bet. “It would be unfair, don’t you think?” Olrox asked. “I’m the only one who would be able to tell which slaves are currently fertile, just by touching them.”
“Oh really?” asked Báthory. “That might be useful information to know. If one of them is fertile now but does not conceive, I may have to reassign the slave to a more diligent alpha.”
Olrox had opened his mouth to reply when a loud crunch, followed by a panicked scream, caught everyone’s attention. Looking over, Olrox could see that Vaublanc had transitioned from playing with the slave to fucking him. And he’d been none too careful. Edouard lay unconscious on the floor, pelvis misshapen, while Vaublanc casually relaced his breeches.
“Vaublanc! Explain yourself!” Báthory snapped.
“My apologies, my Lady. He was squirming too much, so I decided crippling his legs might make all our lives easier. It won’t affect his ability to carry children,” the main insisted.
Olrox snorted derisively. “And you have a great deal of medical knowledge, do you? You understand human anatomy so well?” he asked, projecting so the whole room could hear him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mizrak sitting with a hand over his mouth, tears streaming down his cheeks, with the other slaves huddling close to him.
“You disagree?” Báthory asked him.
“Not only would a pelvic injury prevent him from carrying to term, since a babe is carried in the pelvic cradle until birth, but it’s unlikely he would be able to conceive until the trauma healed. But ultimately, none of that matters,” he said over Vaublanc’s protests, “because he’ll be dead in a few hours!”
“Explain,” Báthory growled.
“A number of vital blood vessels pass through the pelvis,” Olrox told her. “Crushing the pelvis as severely as Vaublanc just did nearly guarantees one or more of those blood vessels has been ruptured. He’s bleeding into his abdomen as we speak. In a few hours, his heart will stop beating, because it no longer has enough blood to pump.”
“But you can heal him, can you not?” Báthory asked, no longer projecting to the whole hall. Every ear remained focused on what she said anyway.
“Of course. But why should I?” Olrox asked, projecting a casual air into his voice that he certainly didn’t feel. He could see Mizrak stiffen in shock. Olrox continued, “We’ve already established a pattern of rough usage. First a broken rib that punctured a lung, then a broken neck, then a broken jaw, and now this? Say I do heal him, what then? Tomorrow it’s a broken femur, the day after it’s a cracked skull, and so on.
“Healing takes magical energy. Why should I use up my power cleaning up the mistakes of others? Why should I wear myself out so that others in this court can continue to play roughly with their toys?” If he was right about Báthory’s thought processes, he might save lives while increasing his own status in the court, making him nearly untouchable; if he was wrong, Mizrak would never forgive him.
Báthory laughed. “There’s the ruthlessness I heard tell of! You see, Drolta, he’s not soft after all! You want something in return, don’t you, Olrox?”
He smiled, knowing it wouldn’t reach his eyes. Let her think him cold-hearted. “Precisely. I healed the broken jaw without asking for anything, but you told me I wasted my time and effort because it wasn’t severe enough. I try never to make the same mistake twice.”
Báthory laughed again. “I have an offer for you. Heal this one as a promise for the future. From tonight onward, when a slave is injured badly enough that their death is imminent, or otherwise needs to be rescued from death, you keep any slave you heal.” Raising her voice, she declared, “And the one who throws away my gift will be responsible for replacing it.” Murmuring around the room revealed that everyone had heard.
Speaking to Olrox alone again, she asked, “Agreed?”
He grinned toothily. “Agreed. I’ll have a full harem before the year is out.”
As Báthory laughed again, Olrox rose and headed toward Edouard. Vaublanc intercepted him. “You’re lying!” he cried. “He’s not dying, just unconscious!” He reached for Olrox’s arm, but Olrox knocked his hand away.
“Watch and learn, then,” he growled. “You’ve disemboweled someone before, haven’t you? You know the speed of the blood flow in each given area, yes?” Vaublanc nodded, and Olrox knelt next to Edouard, making sure not to block Báthory’s view. “Then how do you explain this?” he snarled, driving a single claw into Edouard’s belly, in a place that wasn’t known to bleed overly fast or forcefully.
The spray of blood when Olrox pulled his claw out drenched his clothing; sadly, the silk might not be salvageable, but ultimately he didn’t care. Having made his point, he quickly arranged Edouard’s hips to align his pelvis, then laid a palm over the puncture wound and drove his magic downward.
Knitting bone was simple; rebuilding the damaged blood vessels from their tattered remains was considerably less so. He managed to chase half the blood pooling in Edouard’s abdomen back into veins and arteries before he had to pull back or risk draining too much of his magic. He healed the young man’s skin as well, wiping out the noughts-and-crosses games to lessen the chances of both scarring and infection. Unfortunately, his throat would have to heal on its own.
Rising and straightening his bloodied cuffs, he turned to his speechless audience. “I trust I’ve proven my claim,” he said nonchalantly, not even bothering to frame it as a question.
“Indeed you have,” Báthory purred. Voice hardening, she ordered, “Vaublanc, tread carefully. And don’t plan to cripple any more of my gifts.” The man bowed but wisely kept his mouth shut.
At a gesture from Báthory, Olrox strode over to Mizrak, pulled him up, and carried them both home. Materializing in the bathing room directly in front of the empty tub, Olrox began stripping his bloody clothing and dropping each piece in with a soft splat. He was soon left in only his braies.
“What the hell was that?” Mizrak growled.
Olrox sighed tiredly. “Which part?” He didn’t bother turning around.
Mizrak had other ideas. He yanked hard on the vampire’s arm until he turned and met the knight’s eyes. “How about the part where you refused to heal Edouard? Or the part where you hurt him worse?” he yelled.
“I didn’t, actually,” Olrox said quietly. “The blood was putting pressure on his organs. And while I was able to direct some of it back into his blood vessels, so he’s not dangerously anemic, I couldn’t have cleaned it all up. It had to go somewhere.”
“Whatever. You still risked his life by refusing to heal him at first! What if she hadn’t felt like making that deal? Would you have left him to die?” Mizrak snarled.
“I would’ve had to think of something else. But it was a calculated risk.” Olrox insisted. His temples throbbed, and he ached as his body protested the overuse of magic. Why couldn’t Mizrak trust him enough not to yell, at least?
“A calculated risk? You gambled with his life! If you’d lost, I never would’ve forgiven you—” Mizrak spat.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Olrox shouted, startling Mizrak enough that he backed up a step, eyes wide. Olrox sighed, turning away to run cold water into the tub. “I gambled with his life tonight in the hope of saving it in the future,” he murmured.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Mizrak insisted, voice unsteady. “You risked his life tonight so next time you could keep him? What if next time, he dies?”
Olrox turned back to him. “That’s precisely why I did it. What if Vaublanc hadn’t broken his pelvis until after we left tonight? You never would’ve seen him again—or if you had, it would’ve been as a night creature. Because he would’ve died long before I had the chance to heal him.”
“That could still happen,” Mizrak protested.
“I know. It’s a definite possibility, especially since Vaublanc said he wasn’t trying to kill him. But my hope is that this will make him, and all the rest, a little more cautious. If I had just leapt forward to save him without taking the risk, they wouldn’t worry half as much about damaging any of the slaves in future, knowing I would just fix them.
“And when they inevitably killed someone, Báthory would’ve punished them, but it would be too late for that person. Some people have to have consequences spelled out explicitly before they’ll think about them.”
“So your gamble was as much about signaling to the other vampires as it was about making a deal with Báthory?” Mizrak asked.
“More so,” Olrox admitted. “I didn’t think she’d offer a deal like that. Honestly, I was expecting her to scold Vaublanc, warn the others not to injure their slaves in any manner that risked killing them, and threaten that in future she would make them repay me in some fashion for any healing I had to do that benefitted them. It would’ve made the other humans marginally safer, and it would’ve protected us by raising my status in court: no one wants to piss off the healer, in case he refuses to help later. I never expected her to offer to give them to me.”
Mizrak murmured, “So they have a chance now …”
“I hope so. It’s a little worrying that she didn’t disagree that I’d end up bringing home at least a few more this year.” He cautiously wrapped his arms around Mizrak, tightening his embrace when the knight leaned into him. “I’m sorry I scared you like that. If I’d had time to warn you what I was about to do, I would’ve,” he whispered.
They stood quietly for several minutes, the only sound the water pouring into the tub. Finally, Mizrak yawned, making Olrox smile. “You should eat and get to bed,” he murmured. “I’ll be in as soon as I’ve washed these as best I can.” He wasn’t sure the clothes could be saved, but it was worth a try. If it didn’t work, he’d have to send Bertrand or Thomas to place an urgent order with the tailor, and chances were good that he wouldn’t have anything in purple lying around.
“All right,” Mizrak said, pulling away. He looked into Olrox’s eyes for a moment, then leaned forward and kissed him softly. “Thank you.” Olrox watched him walk out of the bathing room, stunned. Mizrak had … kissed him. Without sex being involved. He …
The feeling of water sloshing over the rim of the tub and splashing his feet brought him out of his reverie, and he set to the task of rinsing blood out of his silks and his cotton chemise. The chemise might be salvageable, even if the others weren’t. He smiled as he worked, listening to Mizrak move about in the other room. His wonderful knight.
Chapter Text
Mizrak was feeling particularly bloated tonight, possibly because he’d overindulged on pudding last night. The dish had helped him keep his energy levels up over the past two weeks, which meant Madame Duval was serving it every day and cycling through different additions for flavor. Whatever berry she’d used last night had been especially good, thus his current predicament.
Edouard was singing softly to him as he rubbed Mizrak’s lower back, both things he’d been doing more and more often. His touch didn’t have the healing component that Olrox’s back rubs did, but he enjoyed it all the same. And Edouard’s voice was lovely. It wasn’t uncommon for the other knights and Jacques to slide closer and listen, on nights when Edouard’s throat wasn’t bruised and he felt up to singing.
Whatever aria he’d been singing ended, and Eric sighed appreciatively. “I never would’ve expected a revolutionary to have such a lovely voice,” he said quietly.
Edouard’s hand froze on Mizrak’s back for just an instant before he chuckled quietly. “Just being from Saint-Domingue doesn’t make me a revolutionary, you know,” he murmured. “I was lead tenor in the opera house. What with all the fighting, my sister and I saved up money to come to France, searching for something new. Maybe I could’ve earned a position somewhere and resumed my career, but instead I was captured less than an hour after disembarking.”
“So you’re not the revolutionary Vaublanc keeps insisting you are?” Jacques whispered, somehow still unaware that every vampire in the hall was able to hear him if they chose to listen.
“I’m sure I remind him of someone. But that doesn’t make me a fighter,” Edouard told him calmly. Mizrak almost would have believed him, were it not for that brief hesitation—and the fact that he’d felt sword callouses on Edouard’s hands days ago. Whether any of his brethren had noticed, Mizrak wasn’t sure; Jacques clearly hadn’t, and none of them were likely to encourage future violence on another in the group. That way lay madness.
Edouard had begun singing again when Vaublanc stomped over and grabbed him by the throat, hauling him up until only his toes touched the floor. Edouard choked and instinctively clawed at the vampire’s hands, and Mizrak breathed, “Olrox, please!” He wasn’t the one in danger, and given the horrible wheezing noises, Edouard was getting at least a little air and wasn’t in immediate danger either. But maybe he could do something …
Olrox strolled over, in his current blue silk since the tailor had needed time to source purple silk to replace the breeches and jacket ruined by blood, and told Vaublanc casually, “If you drop him on my pet and injure him, I’ll set a new fashion trend when I wear your shriveled heart on a gold chain, like a monocle but less useful.”
Vaublanc snarled, “He’s always singing, and I’ve had enough! I keep telling him not to, and he does it anyway!” He pulled Edouard several feet away, though, in response to Olrox’s threat.
Olrox smirked. “I don’t particularly care whether you like his singing or not. My pet does, and I have no problem with it. Are you going to put the slave down, or are you going to risk damaging him beyond what you can afford?”
Vaublanc dropped Edouard, who crumpled to the floor gasping for air, as he walked forward to poke a finger into Olrox’s chest. “She may favor you now, cur,” he hissed. “But more worthy followers will take your place soon enough.”
Looking him up and down, Olrox purred, “More worthy followers like you? Somehow I doubt that. Go find a way to make yourself useful, Vaublanc—I expect it will take you a while.”
Vaublanc visibly restrained himself from attacking Olrox before he stormed off. Olrox crouched and wrapped a hand around Edouard’s neck; the young man flinched, then stilled as his breathing improved. Olrox stood, told Edouard, “Sing when Mizrak wants you to,” then walked away. Mizrak would have to thank him later.
All of the slaves sat quietly for a moment before one of them whispered, “Your master is …” Mizrak smiled but said nothing, settling back as Edouard began to sing again—softer than before, but still audible.
***
One afternoon the following week, Olrox went hunting again while Mizrak went downstairs to train. When the vampire returned an hour later, he was surprised to see no one in the kitchen—no Madame Duval cooking, no Amelia proofing bread, no Thomas waiting for the venison. Leaving the deer in the side yard where Thomas had dressed the others, he wandered through the empty kitchen and out into the front of the house.
There he found the entire household hovering over Mizrak as he sat in a chair that must have been retrieved from the salon. Bertrand was gently manipulating his right shoulder as Mizrak insisted, “I’m fine. Barely bruised, I promise.”
“What’s going on?” Olrox demanded, moving past the others and placing his palm on Mizrak’s shoulder. The joint was swollen, some of the ligaments strained, but not seriously injured.
Mizrak gritted his teeth as Olrox healed him, then explained, “I lost my balance briefly. Had to drop the sword to catch myself on the wall, and my arm slipped when the rest of me didn’t, so I pulled my shoulder while trying to stay upright. Everyone came running after that.”
“Why did none of you call for me?” Olrox snapped, anxious. “What if—”
Mizrak grabbed his hand to get his attention. “Because it only just happened. Thomas brought the chair, Bertrand was checking how bad my shoulder was to see if Amelia should bring a cold compress, and Madame Duval just told me I should call for you. But you’re here now, so it’s fine.”
Olrox sighed with relief. “Thank you,” he told the others sincerely. They smiled—all except Thomas, who just scowled slightly less than usual—before returning to the tasks they’d abandoned to help his knight.
“I won’t be doing any more sword forms until the eggs are laid,” Mizrak said quietly. “All the other training exercises I can do while standing close to a chair or the wall, in case I lose my balance. But not those.”
“I could spar with you,” Olrox offered. “That would be similar, and I could catch you.”
Mizrak shook his head, smiling wryly. “I know myself too well to think that would be a good idea. I’d end up trying to show off, which would just make things worse.”
“If you’re sure,” Olrox agreed. He helped the knight up the stairs and over to the foot of the bed, where he settled with a tired sigh. “Can I get you anything?”
Mizrak shook his head as he started peeling off his mail. “No, thank you. I’m just going to lie down for a while. Wake me when it’s time to eat, please.”
“Of course.” Olrox watched as he finished removing his gear and clothing, then crawled up the bed and lay down. He knew how much the knight had been enjoying the sword forms, how they helped him see the improvements he made. Perhaps there was something else that could work similarly? He’d have to consider it—he’d do anything to make Mizrak happy.
He went out to feed while Mizrak slept, since earlier he’d only hunted the deer. There were no ready-made meals this time, no arrogant lords or violent criminals to make examples of. He chose an old man dying of pneumonia, ending his suffering early. As he drank the less appetizing blood, he wondered whether Adrian, and now Mizrak, would appreciate his efforts to reduce pain in the world, one meal at a time.
Probably not. Adrian spent a month helping him track down the vampire in Boston who was an actual threat, after he’d killed the Belmont bitch who’d decided his lover was the one murdering people in groups. And Adrian helped soothe the wounds to Olrox’s heart with companionship. But he was a dhampir—he had other options for sustenance. He wasn’t forced to choose between taking a life or sipping from enough humans to raise the alarm and have them call for a hunter like Belmont. And Mizrak was horrified by even the idea of him drinking blood, so he made sure he was spotless when he returned from hunting.
Still, at least his choices gave him some small sense of satisfaction. Especially now, when he knew every aristocrat he dined from would drive Drolta mad if she found out. Báthory would no doubt also be annoyed, though she seemed less worried about alienating their few human allies than Drolta was. Small acts of rebellion were satisfying when he couldn’t yet risk everything on a larger attack.
***
Mizrak was quiet as he ate and prepared for court. Olrox wished he could offer him something, but beyond the idea of sparring that Mizrak had already turned down, he wasn’t sure what else he could do. He’d have to think about it more later.
He’d barely settled Mizrak in front of the fire for another tedious night of court when he heard a muffled choking sound. Looking around the hall, it took him only a moment to locate the source: Edouard was kneeling at Vaublanc’s feet and weakly pawing at his hips as the other vampire smirked at Olrox. He walked toward them, instincts clamoring that something was wrong. Another step, and he felt his claws elongate as he snarled. Edouard’s jaw was held wide by Vaublanc’s knot, and his eyes had just rolled up as he passed out from lack of air.
Lunging forward, Olrox attacked Vaublanc in the one place considered taboo to attack an alpha: his knot. Driving two claws into the swollen flesh barely visible past Edouard’s lips, he ripped outward, creating a large wound that sprayed blood. As soon as Vaublanc’s knot had deflated enough, he shoved the vampire—still too shocked even to scream—away, immediately moving both hands to Edouard’s chest.
“Breathe,” he murmured, sinking his magic into the young man’s lungs. He’d inhaled some of Vaublanc’s seed in his final instinctual attempt to gasp for air. Olrox drove it back up his throat, and it poured out of his mouth. “Breathe,” he repeated, straining to find what other damage could have been done. Edouard coughed weakly, then gasped, eyes flying open, and began to cough like he was trying to expel his own lungs. His stomach must have voiced its own protests, as he began to vomit seed and bile between harsh coughs.
Vaublanc’s shock had faded, and he was screaming like he was being skewered by a dozen knives, calling for Olrox’s head between wordless shrieks. Olrox snarled at his antics.
“What is it now?” asked Báthory tiredly, reaching the clear space between where Vaublanc had landed and where Olrox was monitoring Edouard, who was breathing rapidly and looking terrified to be surrounded by vampires staring at him.
“My knot!” Vaublanc shouted hoarsely. “How dare he—”
Olrox rolled his eyes to a theatrical degree. “If you wanted to keep it intact, you shouldn’t have put it in his mouth. We’ve already covered the human need to breathe, and yet you thought blocking his throat for twenty to thirty minutes would be a good idea? And beginning that time just as I arrived—what a coincidence! Unless it wasn’t a coincidence at all…” he concluded pointedly.
“You’re saying he deliberately tried to kill the slave?” asked Báthory. “What makes you think that? And why would he do that, when he knows how angry I will be if this was deliberate?”
“That’s ridiculous!” Vaublanc shouted. “I would never—” Both Olrox and Báthory ignored him, and the crowd followed their lead.
“For the slave to have passed out when he did, Vaublanc must have knotted within seconds of my arrival. And he assumed I would bow, before all else, to the taboo of damaging his knot. Thus the smirk when he caught my eye: he believed I would be unable to intervene and save the boy, thus damaging my standing in court after our deal.” He may also have hoped Mizrak would rebel, not understanding their relationship was more equal than master and slave. Though Mizrak certainly would’ve been heartbroken.
“Coincidental timing and claiming I smirked at you?” Vaublanc yelled. “That’s not enough to support your accusations against me!”
“I saw Vaublanc’s face right before the uproar,” one of the female vampires interjected. “He was smirking, and I wondered why—then this.” She also happened to loathe Vaublanc for his continued advances.
“I saw it, too,” another vampire piped up, an older-looking man this time. Olrox had heard him complain about Vaublanc’s lack of manners more than once. Oh my, Olrox thought with amusement, it’s almost like the man isn’t well-liked by practically anybody.
Evaluating the potential for bias among the witnesses compared to the hard facts available, Báthory made her decision. “That is not enough to prove a deliberate intent to kill one of my gifts to this court, so I will not take compounded recompense for disrespect out of your hide, Vaublanc.”
“Thank you, my Lady. I knew you would see through his lies—” Vaublanc simpered.
Báthory cut him off. “You did, however, nearly kill a slave, deliberately or not. So you will be tasked with replacing him and will lose access to all of the slaves. And you, Olrox,” she declared, turning to him with a wry smile. “Have just claimed the first slave in your expanded harem, as we agreed.” Edouard muffled a gasp behind his palm. He looked uncertain if that fate would be better or much, much worse.
“Thank you, Countess. With your leave, I’ll take him home and clean him up now,” Olrox said, with a disapproving look at the grime on Edouard’s skin.
Báthory nodded permission before returning her focus to Vaublanc, interrupting his continued protests with the words, “Get out of my sight, fool, before I decide you’re not worth keeping as a follower.” Olrox smirked, hauled Edouard up with a hand on his bicep, and dragged him over to where Mizrak sat waiting. Pulling him to his feet, he transported all three of them directly into the bathing room.
“Wash thoroughly. Mizrak will show you how everything works,” Olrox told Edouard, who stared at him wide-eyed and nervous, then left the room. Better to let Mizrak explain everything, since they already knew and trusted each other.
Closing the door to the bedroom firmly behind him, he headed downstairs to the kitchen, where he found the four servants eating their evening meal. Madame Duval quickly swallowed whatever she’d just had in her mouth and asked, “Master Olrox, we thought you’d left for the night! Did you need something?”
“Finish your meal, first. There should be plenty of time for that.” Especially if Mizrak convinced Edouard to soak after removing most of the grime. They could be in there for an hour or more. He stepped outside into the cool night air and looked up at the stars. Chances were he’d just lost any claim to Mizrak’s attention, as well as his place in the bed. But Mizrak would be happy now, or at least less worried.
Ten minutes later, Thomas opened the back door, and he returned inside. “I’m sorry to have rushed your meal,” he said quietly.
Madame Duval waved that away. “You’ve got us all intrigued. I assume Mister Mizrak is well, otherwise you’d have wanted something more urgently. Was the vampire court cancelled for the night?”
Olrox sighed. “I wish. No, Mizrak is fine. But … I’ve acquired another young man.”
“Does that woman want even more eggs now?” Madame Duval asked incredulously. “She’s just handing out more unfortunate young men to breed?”
Olrox shook his head. “No—or at least, she might want me to breed him later, but that’s not why he’s here now. I made a deal with Báthory that, if I had to use my healing magic to save a slave’s life, the slave would then be mine. So this one may only be the first of a group,” he warned.
All four gaped at him. “Do you mean there’s a young man up there,” Madame Duval said slowly, “that you just saved from dying? Probably violently, so he’s likely terrified of vampires—and you just left him up there alone?” The other three were hanging on her every word.
“No! Mizrak’s with him; he’ll explain everything,” Olrox denied. “I wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave him completely alone after something like that—I didn’t leave Mizrak, did I?”
“No, you didn’t. But does he know Mister Mizrak? Would he feel safe with him?” Madame Duval demanded anxiously.
“Yes, they’ve been getting to know each other for several weeks now. He trusts Mizrak, and Mizrak’s been worrying about him. They’ll both be happier, now,” Olrox told her calmly, ignoring the pang in his chest. It would be better this way. He’d get over his disappointment in time.
The other four relaxed. “Good, that’s something, at least,” Madame Duval murmured. “Do they need a meal? I assume this one doesn’t have dietary restrictions?”
Olrox shook his head. “Not that I know of. Though he’ll need smaller portions of simpler foods, to start. He’s had access to food, but I’m not sure how much of it he’s been able to eat—he’s thinner than Mizrak ever was.”
Madame Duval put her hand to her mouth. “The poor dear,” she breathed. “I’ll get started on something right away, it should be ready in an hour. Something for Mister Mizrak, too, in case he’s hungry. Unless there was something else you needed?”
Olrox turned to Amelia. “Can you find some clothing for him in the former baron’s things? They’re about the same size. He’ll definitely want a nightshirt, but smaller than the one Mizrak has, if possible. And if there are any serviceable tunics and trousers …” He doubted it. But putting Edouard in silk breeches might be a bit more than the arrogant vampires of the court could handle.
“He can borrow my good set,” Bertrand offered.
“Thank you, he’ll appreciate that,” Olrox murmured.
“And I’m sure I’ve seen a smaller nightshirt upstairs. Don’t know why the baron liked the big one so much, he did have one that fit!” Amelia chimed.
“I’ll go to the tailor tomorrow,” grumbled Thomas, though his eyes looked bright and eager. “Have to get your new suit anyway: the tailor sent word it would be ready in the morning.”
“Thank you all,” Olrox told them.
Madame Duval waved that away. “You head back upstairs, Master Olrox, in case those boys need anything. Amelia will bring the clothes shortly. Should I bring their dinner up, or do you want to fetch it, like you did at first for Mister Mizrak?”
“I’ll come get it,” he answered gratefully.
“All right, I’ll say your name when it’s ready, then,” Madame Duval confirmed, then moved toward the pantry, muttering to herself about what to cook. Amelia and Bertrand trotted off, and Olrox himself returned upstairs to wait.
Chapter Text
As soon as Olrox left the room, Edouard’s knees failed him, and he sank to the floor, completely overwhelmed. Mizrak managed to fold himself down onto the floor, despite how tight the space felt with his current bulk, and pulled Edouard into his arms, rocking him gently as he cried.
Edouard hiccupped once as his tears slowed, then stopped, but he didn’t pull away. “You’re safe now,” Mizrak soothed. “You’re safe. Olrox won’t hurt you; he’s never hurt me.”
“But he wanted you,” Edouard whispered. “He chose you, didn’t he? He’s just stuck with me.”
“Yes, he chose me when we were first handed out to breed. But that’s not as important as you think it is. Trust me, he’s probably relieved you’re here now. We’ve both been worrying about you, about how you’ve been treated.”
“Both?” Edouard asked skeptically.
Mizrak shrugged. “It’s possible he was only worried because I was. But I doubt it. He’s healed you several times. And he managed to convince Báthory to light the fire and give us blankets, back in the first few days when all of us were ill. And she realized that offering us a hot meal would help us stay healthier, after he suggested it the first time.”
Edouard didn’t seem convinced. “That doesn’t mean he wants me here, even if he didn’t want any of us to die.”
“Maybe not, but he won’t hurt you,” Mizrak promised. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, all right?” Edouard nodded reluctantly and pulled away, helping Mizrak to his feet. Mizrak started the flow of hot water and told him, “Get in, you need to wash before I do.”
“Shouldn’t you go first, since you were here first?” Edouard asked.
“No, because I plan to soak. If you clean up first, we both can enjoy the hot water,” Mizrak explained.
Edouard glanced toward the door. “He won’t mind?”
Mizrak grinned. “My first night, I must’ve spent well over an hour in here. He never said a word.” He grabbed several cloths and helped Edouard scrub himself down, as best he could when leaning over the tub with a belly full of eggs.
Soon Edouard was clean, and Mizrak dropped the stopper into the drain to let the tub fill. Edouard helped him get in and sit down, then looked unsure of what to do with himself. “You can sit behind me or in front of me. Or you can get out, if you’re not interested in a longer bath,” Mizrak told him.
“I … would it hurt you or the eggs if I leaned against you?” Edouard asked hesitantly.
“Not at all,” Mizrak reassured him. Edouard carefully clambered over Mizrak to lie on his side, half draped over Mizrak with his head on the knight’s shoulder. He slowly relaxed in the hot water, blinking slowly. “Don’t fall asleep, all right?” Mizrak asked him. “Currently I’d have a hard time getting you out of the water if you fell asleep.”
“I won’t,” Edouard murmured.
The water had cooled to lukewarm when Edouard’s stomach growled. “Up you get, it’s time to get out,” Mizrak told him. Edouard reluctantly got to his feet and stepped out of the tub, offering a hand to help Mizrak up. Mizrak grabbed the towel and helped Edouard dry off, wringing water out of his long hair, before drying off himself and rehanging the towel.
As he headed for the door, Edouard stopped him with a hand. “Aren’t you going to …?” he asked, gesturing at Mizrak’s clothes.
“No, they’re dirty. There’ll be clean ones waiting. Come on.” Mizrak opened the door partway, checking that Amelia or Madame Duval weren’t there delivering anything.
Olrox was the only one in the room, reading in the armchair again. He looked up to meet Mizrak’s eyes and told him, “There’s clothing on the bed for both of you and food on the table. Let me know if you need anything.” And he promptly went back to his book.
Mizrak blinked, feeling like the caring Olrox from earlier today had been replaced by the Olrox from weeks ago, providing resources while remaining aloof. He hoped the vampire was just trying to make Edouard at ease and hadn’t completely lost interest in interacting with Mizrak.
“Thank you,” he murmured, opening the door further and walking to the bed. The nightshirt he’d worn off and on was there, though he hadn’t used it in several weeks, preferring to feel Olrox against him during the night even if he hadn’t felt well enough to ask for sex. Next to his nightshirt was a smaller one, along with a tunic and trousers, which he gathered up and brought to Edouard where he still hid in the bathroom. “These are for you,” he told the younger man. “For tonight and tomorrow, probably. Olrox will get you more later, I’m sure.”
Edouard pulled on the nightshirt, then the trousers on under it. He held onto the tunic, and Mizrak shrugged. “Time to eat. You can leave that on the foot of the bed.”
Leading Edouard out of the bathing room and over to the table, he found a heaping plate of stewed rabbit seasoned like Stuffat tal-Fenek for himself, along with a bowl of pureed fruit. Edouard had a still-steaming bowl of stew and a loaf of bread waiting for him, similar to what Mizrak had eaten his first night in the house. Pulling out chairs for himself and Edouard, he sat and gestured for Edouard to do the same, then began eating with gusto.
Leaning back when he was pleasantly full, he saw Edouard was eating much more slowly, glancing in Olrox’s direction every few bites. Was he more afraid of the vampire than he was hungry? He supposed it was possible, given what Edouard had been through. He would acclimate soon enough.
He decided to begin a conversation with Olrox, to hopefully let Edouard eat in peace while the vampire was focused on him. “I just ate less than two hours ago; why was I so hungry just now?”
“The eggs are growing, so perhaps they’re requiring more of what you eat. You may just need to eat more at mealtimes to make up for it,” Olrox mused, glancing up from his book.
“I was full earlier, though. I’m not sure I could’ve eaten this much more without making myself sick,” Mizrak objected.
Olrox put his book aside. “Maybe more frequent meals, then. I’m sure Madame Duval would be delighted to feed you more, with the amount she fusses every time I see her,” Olrox said with a small smile. “Although … have you been eating the gruel they offer at court?”
Mizrak shook his head. “It’s been even less appetizing than usual, so I’ve been giving my portion to whoever was nearby at the time.” He glanced at Edouard, who had received the extra food most frequently, for all the good it had done him.
“Probably just as well. I’ll see about making jerky that you could take with you. If you don’t think that would cause problems with your brethren,” Olrox mused.
“I could bring extra and share?” suggested Mizrak, not sure Olrox would be willing, but it was worth a try.
“That might cause problems with my counterparts instead. Though I suppose I could argue that I might as well contribute to feeding all of you, to keep the future members of my so-called harem healthy,” Olrox decided with a wicked grin. “That would drive them absolutely mad, but I need only point them to Vaublanc to remind them that it would be their own faults if I end up with any more humans in my home.”
“If you think it’s worth the risk, I certainly wouldn’t mind,” Mizrak told him, smiling. Olrox seemed more relaxed now, and Edouard had finished eating, at least. The younger man fought back a yawn, and Mizrak reached out a hand to him. “Time for bed, I think,” he murmured, and Edouard looked up at him.
“Where …?” he asked, looking around. Probably expecting a blanket nest like the one that had developed at the chateau.
“In the bed,” Mizrak told him with a smile.
Edouard didn’t look happy about that at all. “I don’t … can I just … never mind,” he finished dully.
“He won’t hurt you,” Mizrak promised again. “He won’t even touch you. Neither will I, if you’d rather I didn’t.” He turned to Olrox. “Is there somewhere else he could sleep?”
Olrox frowned thoughtfully. “None of the other rooms are prepared right now,” he murmured. //And honestly, he’s spooked enough I fear he might try to run if he was left alone for long, which would end badly for all three of us.// “If Thomas is still awake, I could ask him if there’s a spare cot he could bring up.”
Edouard had started shaking his head, though, and grabbed Mizrak’s wrist. “I’m fine, I don’t need anything,” he said shakily, almost pleading.
Confused, Mizrak glanced at Olrox, who shook his head—he didn’t know what was going on in the younger man’s head, either. “Then we’ll get in bed. You can sleep on the far side, and Olrox can get in behind me when he’s ready.” Edouard shuddered at that last but climbed into the bed before Mizrak could ask, huddling on the edge closest to the window.
“I need to finish my book, first—” Olrox began, and Mizrak shot him an annoyed look. The vampire wasn’t planning on joining them at all, was he? From the placement of the bookmark, he wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the book.
“Then who’s going to stop the cramps during the night? You can’t work healing magic from across the room. Finish whatever part you’re reading now, then come to bed,” he growled, tired and uncomfortable, and not at all up to dealing with whatever Olrox was worried about now.
Olrox looked startled, then smiled fondly at him. “I suppose all of it could wait until tomorrow, really. Give me a moment, and I’ll be at your disposal, my liege,” he murmured teasingly. Edouard stared incredulously at both of them from the bed.
“Good,” Mizrak huffed, then clambered into the middle of the bed, a task much harder than it used to be thanks to the size of his belly. Settling on his side with a sigh, he told Edouard, “He’s nothing like the others. Just get some sleep, and we’ll talk when we wake up, all right?”
Edouard nodded hesitantly, watching over Mizrak’s shoulder as Olrox washed up quickly before changing into his trousers and chemise. As the vampire lay down behind Mizrak, he tensed. Mizrak, on the other hand, sagged into the bed, feeling like ice melting in spring as Olrox soothed his muscles. “Sleep,” he told Edouard in a mumble, then let his own eyes slide closed, humming his satisfaction.
***
Edouard stared at Olrox while the vampire soothed Mizrak’s lower back. He couldn’t help it—they weren’t acting like master and slave at all. He’d known Olrox was careful with Mizrak. Maybe that’s all this was, since the knight was carrying the vampire’s eggs, even if Edouard didn’t know how eggs had come into it. Still … this seemed like more than just concern for his offspring. Not that their relationship, whatever it was, would offer him protection, beyond “not upsetting Mizrak.” There were plenty of ways Olrox could make his displeasure known without the knight even finding out, since he could just wipe away any marks.
Olrox glanced at him, then turned his attention back to Mizrak. The vampire wrapped his arm around the knight’s middle, which must mean the healing magic was finished for now. Olrox glanced up again, this time holding his gaze. “I have no intention of hurting you,” he murmured.
Edouard nodded hesitantly, not believing him for a second. The vampire could clearly tell, because he sighed. “I know that’s impossible to believe right now. I don’t hold with slavery or rape, but only time will convince you of that. I will only ask of you what I asked of Mizrak at the very beginning: come to my side if I call you, and say my name if another vampire tries to touch you. You’ve seen how I haven’t let anyone hurt Mizrak, even before I gave him my eggs. That same protection is now extended to you.”
Edouard nodded again. Before the vampire could say anything else, Mizrak grumbled and laboriously turned over, burying his face in Olrox’s neck. Rubbing a hand down Mizrak’s back, the vampire murmured, “We can all three talk more tomorrow. For now, try to get some sleep. You look like you need it.”
Edouard doubted he’d sleep well, uneasy with a vampire so close, and the threat of nightmares caused by several near-death experiences loomed large. He might at least be able to rest a while, though. He still didn’t believe that the vampire had no intention of taking repayment for past healings and anything he gave Edouard now from his hide, his new hole, or both. But at least Olrox would wait until it wouldn’t disturb Mizrak.
Chapter Text
Mizrak groaned unhappily as he woke, back already aching. He felt Olrox’s hand press against him and hummed happily as the pain vanished. He opened his eyes to meet Olrox’s and smiled, leaning forward a few inches to kiss him. Olrox opened his mouth willingly, and their tongues dueled for long, enjoyable minutes. Even if he hadn’t felt up for sex lately, at least he had this.
The bed jolted as someone behind Mizrak startled awake, and the knight remembered that Edouard had come home with them last night. He ended the kiss reluctantly and turned over to face the other man, pulling Olrox’s arm back over his waist to keep him close.
Edouard was staring at them wide-eyed, still shaking from the remnants of a nightmare but mostly looking confused by how Mizrak and Olrox interacted. As the vampire nuzzled the knight’s hair, Mizrak mumbled, “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
Edouard offered a one-shouldered shrug but said nothing. Olrox sighed and murmured, “Maybe I should leave the two of you alone to talk. I can go check if Thomas has contacted the tailor yet—”
Mizrak growled, “No, you’re not going anywhere yet. My back hurts.” It didn’t; Olrox knew it didn’t. But they were going to get past this sooner rather than later. If he wasn’t wasting half his time being sleepy or in pain, he might be more inclined to be patient with them. He might’ve let them feel each other out, as he and Olrox had, while trying to stay close to both of them. As things stood, though, he wasn’t feeling patient at all.
As Edouard stared, Olrox huffed a laugh against the back of his neck. “As you say, my liege. Your wish is my command.” And he did begin massaging Mizrak’s lower back, which felt nice.
Turning his attention back to Edouard, Mizrak told him, “I know at least some of what you’ve been through. Some of it I experienced myself. But Olrox has healed you more than once and never hurt you. If you trust me, try to relax around him.”
Glancing at Olrox, then looking back to Mizrak, Edouard murmured, “And when he wants payment for all the magic he’s used on me? I was told what he said when he made that deal.” He was shaking slightly as he said it, but he dared to say it anyway. Surely that was a good sign, Mizrak thought desperately.
Behind him, Olrox muttered, “Damn it.”
“I know what he said, but that’s not going to happen,” Mizrak insisted. “He—”
A knock sounded on the door, silencing all of them as they turned in that direction. “Master Olrox?” Amelia’s voice carried through the door. “Mister Thomas brought the tailor. Do you want to see him now, or should I ask him to wait?” She must’ve heard at least one of their voices to know they were awake.
Olrox groaned softly, muttering something under his breath, then called, “Tell him we’ll be down in a moment, Amelia.”
“Yes, Master Olrox!” she called back cheerfully.
Mizrak sighed. “I guess we’ll have this conversation later, then.” He rolled onto his back as Olrox pulled away.
Retreating into the bathing room, Olrox returned a few seconds later fully dressed in his blue suit, still straightening his cuffs. “Show Edouard to the salon when you come down, please.” Then he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Mizrak sat up, rubbing at his lower back and yawning. Edouard crawled over to sit beside him, looking more confused than ever. “I thought he came here from the Americas. How does he have a house and servants here?” he whispered.
“The former baron was apparently an abusive asshole,” Mizrak told him. “When Olrox killed him, Madame Duval asked him to stay so they wouldn’t be thrown out—and they probably would’ve been accused of colluding in their lord’s murder. But apparently no one questions who the baron is, these days, just so long as there is one.”
Heaving himself to his feet, he headed for the chest Thomas had brought up for him when the bulk of his clothing had been picked up from the tailor. He pulled out what he planned to wear, then offered, “You can borrow braies and socks if you like. They should fit well enough.” Edouard thanked him and selected items from the chest, then retrieved the tunic he’d been leant from where it had been left the night before.
Once they were both dressed, Mizrak headed downstairs with Edouard in his wake. He heard Olrox in the salon saying, “—much better, thank you. I do appreciate the speed with which you sent the other, but this is much more my preference.”
Mizrak knocked, and Bertrand opened the door, grinning at both of them. Past him, the knight could see that Olrox was once more wearing purple and seemed very happy about it.
“No trouble at all, milord. You’ve been a very good client the past few months, and I’m always happy when my clients are happy!” the tailor said cheerfully. The bulging pouch of coins on his belt probably made him very happy indeed, Mizrak thought with amusement.
“Thomas told you we have another member of the household to clothe. Another instance of leaving room in the seams, if you would. And here he is,” Olrox said, turning and beckoning to Edouard, who stepped forward hesitantly.
“Both of the newcomers, I see! I always recognize my work.” The tailor gave a friendly nod to both Mizrak and Edouard. “And I see young Bertrand has offered his assistance,” he said, moving closer to Edouard and examining the tunic, which might have fit reasonably well if Edouard wasn’t more than half-starved.
“Yessir!” Bertrand exclaimed, beaming.
“You’re about the same size as Bertrand, so I should have something by tomorrow. I’ll just need to take in the seams for now. And a few more sets by the end of the week, if that’s acceptable, milord?” he asked Olrox.
“That would be perfect.” The vampire nodded at Mizrak, then began talking cloth and color as Mizrak grabbed Edouard’s hand and pulled him out of the room.
“I’m going to stop in the kitchen and let Madame Duval know we’re going to be ready to eat soon. Do you want to request anything?” Edouard shook his head, and Mizrak let out the breath he hadn’t been aware that he was holding, disheartened. Edouard was dealing with massive changes, even faster than Mizrak had, and the knight didn’t know how to help him.
Poking his head in the kitchen, he asked Madame Duval to prepare a meal. She smiled warmly at Edouard over Mizrak’s shoulder but didn’t try to draw him into conversation. He couldn’t even be sure Edouard saw her smile, since he kept looking down at the floor, only glancing up now and then.
He was about to head back upstairs when he noticed Edouard had stopped. Turning around, he saw that the younger man’s attention was fixed on the decorative swords still hanging on the wall in the lounge. Just an opera singer? Nonsense!
Grinning, he grabbed Edouard’s hand and pulled him into the lounge so he could look closer. Mizrak’s own gear was draped over a chest, scimitar and dagger on top, all moved here so he didn’t have to carry it up and down the stairs every day. He didn’t feel the desperate need to keep the blades close any longer, but maybe a weapon would help Edouard feel safer, too.
“What style sword do you usually use?” Mizrak asked casually, using the present tense as Olrox had so considerately done for him.
Edouard startled. “No, I—I’m just an opera singer. The only sword I’ve ever held was a wooden prop—”
From the doorway, Olrox said murmured, “Your lies to the other humans were more believable. Those were true statements, just arranged to let your audience infer something else. You’ve definitely wielded a sword before, little revolutionary.”
Edouard cowered, backing toward a corner. “I’m not,” he whispered. “I’m not—”
“Your hands have sword callouses,” Mizrak pointed out gently. “Either the other knights never felt them, or they’re more gullible than I would’ve thought, believing you’d never fought.”
“You’re not going to be beaten or abused for the skill, any more than Mizrak was,” Olrox said in a soothing voice, but Edouard just slid down the wall in the corner he’d reached, curling around himself protectively. //Do you think he’d prefer the reach of a sword or the speed of a dagger? I suppose the kind of sword would affect how it’s wielded?//
Mizrak nodded, then pulled his dagger from its sheath and slowly walked toward Edouard, leaving one side open for him to bolt if he needed to, and offered the dagger hilt-first. When Edouard looked up at him, Mizrak told him, “Take it. It might help you feel safer.”
Edouard reached out a trembling hand and grasped the dagger expertly. Mizrak smiled and retreated, walking backward until he ran into Olrox, who wrapped his arms around his middle and nuzzled his neck.
“Would you rather talk here or up in our bedroom?” Mizrak asked. “We could close the doors in either place, to have some privacy.”
Edouard looked back and forth between Mizrak and Olrox hesitantly for a moment, then shrugged. Olrox interjected, “Upstairs might be more comfortable. The two of you could take the bed, and I could sit in the armchair.” At Mizrak’s thoughtful silence, he added, “If your back starts to hurt, either you could come sit in my lap, or Edouard and I could swap places, with me in the bed and him in the armchair. He just might feel more secure with you closer, to start with.”
Mizrak nodded. “That sounds good to me. Edouard?” Edouard shrugged and nodded, getting to his feet, then followed them upstairs while still clutching the dagger.
Mizrak climbed onto the bed, piled the pillows up against the headboard, and lay back on them, half-reclining. Edouard lay down near him, and Mizrak gently pulled him closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. The younger man switched the knife to his other hand, which might mean he had training in fighting with either, Mizrak mused.
Settling in the armchair, Olrox said nothing, merely looking expectantly at Mizrak. The knight rolled his eyes, trying to think of a way to approach the subject without scaring Edouard. So he was delighted when Edouard murmured, “I prefer a saber. And I don’t know whether Vaublanc recognizes me or just sees me and thinks of—someone else.”
“Someone else who presumably accompanied you when you came to France? Or perhaps you were accompanying them,” Olrox concluded.
“You mentioned a sister,” Mizrak mused. “Should Olrox keep an eye out for a young woman who looks like you, to let her know you’re alive and safe?”
Edouard shook his head slightly. “Not very much like me: she’s the sister of my heart, not my flesh.” At Mizrak’s started look and Olrox’s quiet chuckle, he flushed. “I really am an opera singer, you know. I was the lead tenor in several productions before the fighting started.”
“You certainly have the voice for it,” Olrox agreed quietly.
“How did you end up here?” Mizrak asked.
“Our mambo—our high priestess—had a vision of Erzsebet Báthory and all the destruction she would cause. She sent—” Edouard broke off, eying Olrox warily.
“She sent your sister to fight, and you came with her,” Olrox suggested. “But you were captured.”
Edouard nodded. “I’d barely disembarked the ship when one of the vampires grabbed me. I thought I was going to die, especially when he brought me to a room with this huge machine that night creatures were feeding bodies into to create more night creatures. And there was a man bound to the surface of the machine, barely alive, who kept mumbling passages from the Christian bible.”
“Emmanuel,” Mizrak whispered. “So that’s what she did with him.” At the questioning looks he received, he explained, “He was abbot of the church here. He made a deal with a demon for the machine, sold his soul and all of ours for it, to make night creatures. And then he sent a message to Báthory, proposing an alliance to wipe out all the revolutionaries in France. I think he planned to turn on her after that.
“But he thought she would come in summer. When she and Drolta showed up much earlier than he expected, she found out he wasn’t a real forge master, because he hadn’t figured out how to work the machine yet. I thought she was going to let the other vampires tear us all apart, but I suppose she realized the machine would be lost, then. So she found … other uses for us. For a long time, I wished she’d killed us.”
Olrox looked heartbroken, likely remembering how badly off Mizrak had been in those early days. Which was still nothing compared to the torture Edouard had suffered.
“I thought I was going to die, too. Jacques was already in the machine when I arrived, and the way he was screaming …” Edouard shuddered. “And then it was my turn, and I knew exactly why he was screaming.”
After a long moment of silence, Olrox declared, “Well, that makes three of us working to bring down Báthory. Four, counting your sister. Now all we have to do is figure out how to negate her power and kill her.”
“And Drolta, while we’re at it,” Mizrak added.
“And Vaublanc,” Edouard said quietly.
“Definitely Vaublanc. And since he’s not nearly as powerful as the other two, perhaps we should consider eliminating him first. A satisfying practice run, if you will,” Olrox drawled.
Edouard laughed quietly, then yawned. “A delightful start,” he murmured.
Mizrak smoothed a hand over his hair, smiling fondly. “Get some rest,” he suggested quietly. “I’m going to sit with Olrox so we don’t disturb you. But I’ll be in the room until you wake up. And we should have food coming soon.”
“All right,” Edouard mumbled, already dozing off. The knife was still clutched in his hand.
Mizrak slid carefully off the bed and moved over to Olrox’s chair. He almost felt like straddling his vampire in order to kiss him more easily, but given the bulk of the growing eggs, he decided instead to sit sideways on Olrox’s lap, facing the bed. He could keep an eye on Edouard, in case he had more nightmares.
Olrox wrapped his arms around Mizrak, holding him close, and the knight relaxed. “How quickly do you think he’ll adapt?” he murmured. “I was worried earlier when he wasn’t talking, but he managed this conversation well enough. Once he was armed, anyway.”
Olrox sighed. “I’m not sure. At some points he seems completely broken; others, he’s clearly traumatized but managing as well as could be expected. I’m glad he feels safer with a blade, though we’d better find a sheath for that dagger sooner rather than later, so there’s not a bare blade in our bed.”
“We can get my thigh sheath from downstairs. I just didn’t want to waste time with the whole thing while he was panicking.” Mizrak pulled Olrox’s head down and indulged in a long, slow kiss. Pulling back at last, he mused, “I wonder if they teach the sword in Saint-Domingue the same way I was taught? Sabers and scimitars aren’t so different, since they both have slicing edges rather than just sharp tips, the way rapiers do.”
“You’ll have to ask him,” Olrox told him, smiling. “I don’t have any experience with that, since my bladework is self-taught. The only weapons I learned directly from someone else were clubs and spears, back when I was still human.”
They broke off conversation again for a series of long kisses. Mizrak thought absently that this must be what falling in love felt like. Which might not be the wisest idea he’d ever had—would Olrox have any interest in staying, once Báthory was dead? Would he take their children and go, or let Mizrak raise the children while he left? Even if he currently had a hard time imagining them as children yet, he desperately wanted to be with Olrox, and he could only imagine their children would be incredible. He deepened the kiss, wishing he could somehow convince the vampire to stay.
When their lips parted, Olrox asked, “Is there anything else I can do to make him feel safer around me? What worked best for you?”
“Clothing, access to a weapon, and time,” Mizrak said confidently. “You’ve already given him two of those; now he just needs the time to see you outside of her court. The fact that you healed him several times should help.”
“Except that now he’s worried that I’ll want repayment, given that someone told him about that night,” Olrox worried. “Ruthlessness helps when dealing with other vampires; not so much when traumatized humans hear about it.”
“He’ll figure out soon enough that you wear a mask at court—he knows about theatre, after all. It’ll take some time to believe you, though,” Mizrak told him seriously. “I certainly didn’t, when I asked what you wanted and you told me that you just wanted me to be healthy.”
Olrox laughed. “You always looked so offended when you thought I was lying to you, in those early days. But I didn’t have any other answers to give you.”
“And you always looked so patient, but it felt patronizing precisely because I thought you were lying,” Mizrak remembered. “It made me so angry. I’m glad we’re past that.”
“Agreed.” Mizrak pulled Olrox down into another kiss, and there was no more talking until Amelia brought their meal up.
Chapter Text
Edouard seemed to have difficulty waking up that evening. Earlier, he’d eaten and gone straight back to bed; now he was eating slowly, as if he was barely aware of the food and kept losing track of what he was doing. Olrox frowned and reached out a hand to feel his forehead. Edouard didn’t even seem to notice.
Olrox sighed. “I should’ve expected this.” At Mizrak’s concerned look, he clarified, “He has a fever. Now that he’s had some sleep and a few meals, his body must have recognized he’s safe. Now it’s fighting whatever cold it’s been keeping at bay while trying to keep up with the traumatic injuries, even with my help. According to the book I was reading, it’s fairly common for humans to fall ill after periods of stress.”
“Of all the things he doesn’t need…” Mizrak sighed. “And I don’t suppose he can stay here and rest tonight, either.”
“No, I’m afraid not. Curl up as close to the hearth as you can, and make sure you both have furs—I don’t want to risk you catching anything,” Olrox told him, running a hand through Mizrak’s hair. “I’ll try to keep it short tonight.”
“Would the training excuse work? He hasn’t fought any of the other vampires, but he doesn’t come when they call. Though that’s mainly because they seem to prefer dragging him around,” Mizrak growled.
“It might. I’ll have to think about it. But my goal is to stay an hour or less, regardless of which excuse I use. That also helps the fact that the jerky isn’t ready yet, and I don’t want you to be sitting there hungry,” Olrox murmured.
“When will it be ready? Do you know?” the knight asked.
“Tomorrow night at the earliest.” Olrox pulled Edouard up enough to wrap an arm around his waist, then wrapped the other arm around Mizrak. “Ready to go?”
Mizrak leaned in and gave him a brief kiss, then pulled back and smiled. “Now I am.” Olrox basked in the knowledge that Mizrak was still interested, at least for the time being. He wished he didn’t have to take either of the men in his care anywhere near Báthory. But for now, none of them had a choice.
He materialized them at the edge of the blanket nest, then passed Edouard to Mizrak to get settled. He strolled over and claimed his usual seat. Báthory and Drolta were sitting with another group this evening, but the Marquis seemed to have been waiting for him to arrive, since he said curtly, “I see you’re in purple once again, Olrox.”
“Indeed. The tailor just delivered it this morning,” Olrox said, smiling politely. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.
“I trust you won’t be appropriating any more of my blue silk, then. I had that ordered for my own suit, only to hear that the tailor had sold it to someone else and had to order more. Something about an emergency, and paying more? And then you show up in it.”
“Yes, I agreed to pay double to have a new suit ready in time for the night following Vaublanc’s bloody mistake.” He pursed his lips in disapproval of the incident, then continued, “Fortunately, it required very little alteration to take what he’d already been working on and make it fit me. A little wider in the shoulders and narrower in the gut for the jacket, and a little longer in the breeches, and I had a clean suit. And I assure you, so long as this new suit doesn’t get soaked in blood, I’ll leave the blue for you.”
“See that you do!” the Marquis snapped; Olrox simply continued to wear his smuggest smile.
“How are you finding the new slave?” someone else asked. “Not too loose, I hope?” The other men snickered, while the women sniffed their disdain.
“I’m sure once he finishes healing, he’ll be fine,” Olrox drawled.
“You haven’t tried him yet?” one of them asked incredulously, snapping his fingers to call his own slave over.
Olrox raised a brow. “The first night is for training. Which you should remember, given the trend I started when training my first,” he said pointedly, indicating the slave crawling over. “And the benefit of having two is that I don’t have to wait for a slave to be ready,” he concluded with a grin, causing the other men to grit their teeth at the reminder.
Someone changed the subject, and Olrox glanced over toward the fireplace. Edouard was lying almost directly in front of it, sweating and shivering; Mizrak was running his fingers through the younger man’s hair, trying to soothe him. The other slaves were keeping their distance for the time being.
Báthory was facing toward the group of slaves, inclining her head as one of her sycophants whispered in her ear. //Mizrak, please take a moment to scratch. She’s looking your way.// Olrox could imagine the disgust Mizrak felt, but he dutifully shoved the fur aside and raised one hand to scratch—over the tunic. Olrox felt a brief moment of consternation before Mizrak yanked the tunic up as well and began scratching again. Mizrak must’ve thought it would look contrived for him to pull the tunic up straight off, since sometimes scratching through clothing was good enough. This looked far more natural, and Báthory had a smug smile on her face as she examined his belly from afar. Such a clever man, his knight.
Mizrak soon pulled his tunic back down and burrowed under the fur closer to Edouard; Olrox decided that show would have to be enough for one night, since the younger man was looking worse. He rose and sauntered toward Báthory. She met his gaze when he was halfway across the space and nodded; he returned the nod and took his people home.
Edouard was shivering badly, and Olrox wasn’t sure if they’d be able to get any broth in him, but it would be worth a try. “I’ll head downstairs and ask Madame Duval for some broth—”
Mizrak shook his head. “No, I’ll go. You hold him so he starts warming up.” He left before Olrox could protest how badly that could go, if Edouard woke up alone in Olrox’s arms.
In a purely medicinal sense, though, he did have a point. Olrox was warmer than the average human, so the young man would warm up faster in his hold. Olrox changed quickly, then climbed into bed behind him without bothering to change Edouard’s own clothing—it wouldn’t be worth the risk of upset, and tomorrow they could always change to another of the several sets of sheets available for this bed alone. He’d made sure there were spares after Mizrak’s illness.
Edouard pulled on his arm to wrap him tighter around the younger man, but to Olrox’s relief, he didn’t try to turn over. The shivering slowed and stopped without Edouard even waking. Hopefully that wasn’t a bad sign. He really did need to finish that book describing illnesses and their effects on the body.
Mizrak soon returned with a bowl of broth and a plate of salt pork—he must not have wanted to keep Madame Duval awake for longer than it took to make the broth. He wolfed down his snack as they waited for the broth to cool, then carefully fed Edouard a spoonful at a time, his eyes barely open and probably not fully conscious.
When Mizrak climbed in on the other side of Edouard to cocoon him in warmth, Olrox confessed, “If he’s not doing better tomorrow, I’m calling a doctor. You at least woke up fully to eat when you were sick.”
“Part of that was the heart attack you gave me,” Mizrak teased. “But that sounds like a good plan, all the same,” he admitted before yawning and closing his eyes.
Olrox didn’t close his own until just before dawn, when he realized with relief that Edouard’s fever had broken sometime in the last few hours. No doctor necessary.
***
When they woke, Olrox had already stepped out, which Edouard was grateful for. True, the vampire had healed him a number of times and vowed not to hurt him. But there was a distinct difference between being aware of that and knowing in his bones he was safe. At least he was feeling better this morning.
He and Mizrak ate heartily, then the knight led him downstairs to the lounge. Opening the chest with his mail, tabard, and sword belt, Mizrak pulled out a dagger sheath meant to be strapped to the thigh. “I should have grabbed this when I first handed you the dagger, but I thought you might appreciate the bare blade to know it wasn’t a fake of some kind, and I didn’t think to just hand them to you separately,” Mizrak told him. “You’ll need to adjust the fit, but then you’ll have both hands free.”
Edouard, who was still carrying the dagger for the feeling of security, thanked him and sheathed the blade. The strap had to be tightened significantly—Mizrak must have had thick, powerful thighs before being half-starved, though he looked well on the way to regaining his former build.
“Did you learn forms when you were taught the sword?” Mizrak asked as he retrieved his scimitar.
“Yes,” Edouard admitted, watching as Mizrak began simple thrusts and blocks in repetition, rather than a continuous form. “I actually enjoyed them so much that I considered becoming an instructor, before I found my calling in the opera.”
“Really?” Mizrak asked, intrigued. “I wonder if they’re the same ones I learned in Malta. It’s not safe for me to practice them by myself right now,” he explained before Edouard could ask. “Since the eggs keep affecting my center of gravity before I can get used to it, I lost my balance and fell against the wall. Scared the whole household.” He looked resigned to his more simplistic practices.
“If you can’t do them by yourself, can you do them with a partner?”
Mizrak shook his head sadly. “No. If we were standing side by side and both turned, and I was behind you … No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I learned the mirrored version of forms the instructor would use before anyone was allowed to properly spar. If I practice those, then I’d be facing you the whole time and able to see if you started having trouble,” Edouard offered.
Mizrak looked delighted. “If you wouldn’t mind, that would be very helpful! The only other swords in the house are those,” he said, using his scimitar to point to the decorative sabers on the wall. “The balance is off, but they might do to practice.”
Edouard walked over and pried one of them free. He made a face at the heavy, uncomfortable hilt. “These are definitely not meant for battle. But this will do well enough for now. Let’s find out if we did learn the same forms, or this won’t last long. En garde!” Within minutes, both of them were grinning widely as they paced back and forth across the floor, swords tapping gently with each parry.
Olrox found them wrapping up one of the forms, sweating but fully invigorated. “I see you found someone to spar with,” he said quietly. The vampire looked … hurt?
Mizrak shook his head. “No, he’s doing mirrored forms with me. Sparring would be too risky, still—I think I’d fall faster than I did before.”
Olrox’s brow smoothed and his lips twitched in a small smile. “Let’s avoid that. But I’m glad you’re enjoying your practices more now.” Turning to Edouard, he asked, “I assume you had your saber on you when you were captured. Does it have any distinguishing features?”
Edouard gaped at him. “Yes—there’s a fingernail-sized spot on the pommel where the metal is darker. Do you think you can find it?”
Olrox shrugged. “I found Mizrak’s gear. It’s worth a look.” Looking back to Mizrak, he asked, “Are you going to end up overdoing it again today? Should I leave time in the schedule for a massage for one or both of you?”
Mizrak laughed. “It’s entirely possible, so yes, please.”
Olrox smiled. “I’ll be back in an hour, then.” As he walked toward the door, his form dissolved into dark smoke.
“Would he really bring back my saber?” Edouard asked hesitantly. He’d hardly given the vampire a reason to offer him so priceless a gift.
“If he can find it. Which shouldn’t be a problem, unless someone decided they should clean up down there, but I can’t imagine they would. The only ones down in that basement with the machine are night creatures and a couple of vampires to monitor it. It seemed like they left everything right where it was before, and there were more of us in that group,” Mizrak mused.
Edouard looked down at the sword in his hand. “That would mean a lot to me, if he could find it and bring it here,” he said quietly. “My sister … she has a magical skill with metal and earth, and she borrowed some of the metal from the pommel of my sword once. I don’t even remember what for. But when she put it back, it was darker, and I would tease her about it whenever it caught my eye. I don’t even know what happened to her, if she’s all right, or …” He blinked hard, fighting back tears.
After a moment, he put those thoughts to the back of his head. Looking up, he raised his sword in a salute and asked, “Shall we?” Mizrak grinned and brought up his own sword.
***
“I definitely overdid it again,” Mizrak panted, leaning against the wall.
Edouard had folded his legs to sit on the floor, and he pawed at his hair to get it back in some semblance of order. “Same. But it was fun.”
Mizrak grinned. “Definitely better than just standing and swinging it around.”
Edouard ducked his head forward as he laughed, then growled and spat out a lock of his hair. “There’s a reason I usually tie all this back,” he grumbled.
“Then this must be yours. I admit, I wasn’t sure, since it was halfway between two piles of belongings,” Olrox said from behind him. No footsteps had hinted at his arrival.
Edouard jumped to his feet and spun. The vampire was holding a small pile of clothing and a pair of shoes in one arm; with the opposite hand, he offered Edouard both his sheathed saber and the green strip of cloth he used to tie back his hair with. “Thank you,” he breathed, taking both. Looping the sword belt over one arm, he gratefully tied back his hair for the first time in weeks.
“I’ll take the rest upstairs, unless there’s something else you’d like now?” Olrox asked. Edouard shook his head. “Then I expect you’ll both be upstairs soon enough with sore muscles and large appetites.” And he turned and headed for the stairs.
“Would you rather store your saber down here with my scimitar, or keep it upstairs for now?” Mizrak asked as he put away his gear for the afternoon.
“Here is fine. Can I … hold onto the dagger a little longer?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over the discolored spot on the pommel of his sword. As much as he loved his saber, wandering around the house all day with it strapped to his hip seemed a bit much.
“Of course!” Once everything was stored away, Mizrak led the way back upstairs.
Olrox was sitting in the armchair again, but there was now a cushioned footstool in front of him, not currently in use. The vampire put his book down and nodded at the stool in front of him, saying, “This may be easier for massage.”
Mizrak nodded and stripped off his tunic before he sat down, facing away from Olrox. “For the upper body, at least,” he commented. “Not sure this’ll work when I overwork my thighs and calves.”
Olrox picked up a jar of lotion, spread some on his hands, then began digging his thumbs into the muscles of Mizrak’s back. Over the knight’s satisfied groans and hums, Olrox told him, “We can still use the bed for those. But this will keep you from falling asleep when you don’t want to.”
Edouard perched on the end of the bed and watched as Olrox moved on to Mizrak’s right shoulder, then down the arm. His own muscles ached, as much from wielding the unbalanced decorative sword as from general disuse the past month. He wasn’t sure if Olrox planned to offer this to him as well as Mizrak, but even if he did … did he trust the vampire so close to his back? On the other hand, did it ultimately matter? Olrox might let him refuse a massage, but there might be other things he wasn’t given a choice on. Why turn down something that might help him physically, if he might end up in a worse predicament later?
Mizrak stood up, and Edouard realized he’d stopped paying attention to his surroundings while he thought. The older man clapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Your turn,” then pulled his tunic back on and went to sit at the table to wait for their meal.
Olrox told him, “You’re welcome to a massage if you’d like one, but you’re not required to take your turn, as Mizrak put it.”
Edouard hesitated. “Can I … keep my tunic on?” He wasn’t sure how relaxed he could be if memories of Vaublanc carving into his skin surfaced.
“Of course.” Edouard sat down and tried to relax, though he jumped a little when Olrox’s hands touched his shoulders. “Take a deep breath in, and let the tension flow out with your exhale,” the vampire instructed, and Edouard complied. His tension levels did fall with that.
Edouard quickly realized why Olrox had said something about falling asleep. His hands were firm and warm even through his tunic, and he thought he might have dozed himself if he’d been lying down. But he was extremely grateful to be sitting upright and fully clothed when a knock sounded on the door. “Mister Mizrak, Mister Edouard, I’ve brought your meals up,” a young woman’s voice called.
Mizrak hopped to his feet to let her in, and Edouard saw the voice belonged to a pretty young omega woman. She set down the tray she carried and turned to face all of them. Far from being nervous in the presence of an alpha, especially her employer, she announced, “Madame Duval told me to remind all three of you that she wants feedback on the dishes she’s sending up. I think she really wants a list of requests, so she knows you’re getting something you like. Also, Master Olrox, she wants you to know that she usually goes to bed three hours after sunset, if there’s nothing that needs doing, and she wants you to come get something hot for Mister Mizrak and Mister Edouard every time you get back from that nasty vampire court before that time. And she said to come down and check after that, in case she’s up: she knows you won’t agree to wake her, but she thinks fresh hot food is healthier than cold or something left on the hearth, and she would happily feed our boys any time, night or day. That’s what she said, our boys,” she clarified, grinning at them. “So, think of requests for her, please, so we don’t have to listen to her fret every night.”
“I’ll keep all of that in mind, Amelia. Thank you,” Olrox murmured, smiling. Amelia curtseyed and left the room.
“She’s not afraid of you at all,” Edouard turned to say, confused.
Olrox grinned. “I don’t think Amelia is afraid of anything, these days. She was afraid the day I met her, but given that she’d just been stabbed by the previous baron, that’s really not surprising. And I haven’t even seen her nervous since. Except when they were all eavesdropping and didn’t want Madame Duval to know,” he amended as he finished massaging Edouard’s wrists.
“Are we sure she didn’t figure it out?” Mizrak laughed. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she realized what was happening, when you raised your voice so they’d hear we were almost done talking, and just chose not to say anything.”
“Certainly a possibility, since she didn’t catch them in the act,” Olrox conceded. “That we would’ve heard through the entire house.”
In addition to their meals, the tray contained a sack about the size of his head. Olrox opened it and pulled out two pieces of jerky, handing one to each of them. “Make sure the taste is acceptable. There’s no point in bringing it if it didn’t turn out well.”
It was dry, and a little blander than Edouard preferred, but most of the food here was. This would certainly tide him over between meals. Mizrak clearly agreed, since he fished out another piece to gnaw on after he finished the rest of his meal. “Did you decide for certain if we should share these with the others?” the knight asked.
Olrox hummed. “I don’t want it to look planned, so don’t offer it without prompting of some kind. But if any of them ask for a piece, or even just stare hungrily, then feel free.”
“If we don’t seem to have permission ahead of time, wouldn’t they expect us to be punished?” Edouard asked hesitantly.
Olrox hummed, considering. “It’s possible, but I have no intention of doing so. And they might protest, but ultimately, it’s none of their business.”
“I hope they remember that,” Mizrak growled.
“So do I,” Edouard said quietly. Otherwise the night could end badly, and it would just be a question of who was worst off at the end.
Chapter 16
Notes:
CW: abortion of rapist's baby in 2nd section
Chapter Text
Once Mizrak and Edouard were comfortably settled in front of the fire with the others, Olrox strolled to his usual seat and lounged, projecting power. The Marquis seemed uncomfortable but didn’t leave his seat. Vaublanc looked furious, as he usually did when he caught sight of Olrox, but he didn’t dare come over and speak to him: Báthory and Drolta had also chosen this sitting area for the night, and the sycophant was still persona non grata, since he had yet to find a beta to replace Edouard.
The conversation was inconsequential the first hour and a half, talk of the political situation in Paris and fashion, of all things. Eventually they returned to betting on who would impregnate their slave first. Someone suggested Olrox was back in the running, since his second slave was available for breeding. Olrox laughed. “That would be quite the feat. But I doubt he’ll be fertile in the next few weeks. I may have healed the damage, but the stress hormones will take longer to dissipate. So it’s not impossible, but significantly less probable.”
“Stress hormones? I’ve never heard of such a thing,” the Marchioness admitted.
“I’ve been reading up on the internal workings of the human body, beyond organs or muscles or bones, in my efforts to learn how to heal disease. As I suspected, it’s far more complex than setting a bone. But yes, apparently when a human has been under stress for a long time, certain hormone levels increase, which tends to inhibit growth, full functioning of the immune system, and pregnancy,” Olrox explained.
“So we need to coddle them like you do or they won’t conceive?” sneered the vampire who had claimed the youngest of the knights.
“Not coddling, no. But extended periods of too little food, for example, can make conception much less likely,” Olrox pointed out.
“Is that why your first slave is passing something out among the others?” Drolta asked sharply.
“Is he?” Olrox glanced toward the fire, where Mizrak was gnawing on a piece of jerky. Edouard and the youngest knight also had pieces, and the young man who had arrived when Edouard did—Jacques, had he been called?—was sidling closer, looking hungry. “So he is. He was instructed to give some to my new pet; he needs all the food he can get, for now.”
“And the others?” Báthory asked. “Did you allow him to feed them?”
Olrox shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “If he wants to share, let him. They’re all underweight.”
“But he didn’t have permission,” Drolta insisted. “So he should be punished, whether you care about the end result or not.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. If I’d thought about it, I might have instructed him to feed the rest of my future harem,” he purred. The other slave owners looked livid—even the ones ostensibly involved in other conversations, which meant they were listening in. Good. “So maybe I’ll punish and reward him both when we get home.” And the fact that Mizrak referred to the house as home made Olrox smile whenever he thought about it in private.
“If you’re feeding them, then my servants can dispense with the gruel,” growled the Marquis.
“On the contrary, they’ll need both if any of them are expected to conceive. And possibly larger quantities of the gruel. Unless it’s too expensive?” Olrox asked innocently. The Marquis likely hated the cost, but to say it was too high would be humiliating.
“Of course not!” the Marquis spat. The Marchioness heaved a quiet sigh on the other side of the group: she apparently disagreed. How tight were their finances, these days, hosting so many vampires?
“Good, then double their portions,” Báthory ordered. “And you, Olrox, will continue to provide the strips of meat. To all of them, every night,” she emphasized.
“Of course,” Olrox agreed.
“But why did you not tell me before that their fertility was tied to their diet?” she asked, voice low and frustrated.
“I’m afraid I only read that bit of information last night, Countess. It’s why I brought the jerky for my two tonight, since the newest is so underfed and the first is eating for six.” Let his would-be rivals keep that tidbit in mind. “I hadn’t yet considered the implications for the others, though I’m sure I would’ve realized soon and informed you.”
Báthory huffed. “I would hope so. But at least you’re now partially responsible for feeding them. If their fertility does not increase in the next month, I will be asking for a reason, Olrox.”
“I will continue to research diligently, then, to make sure there are no other factors being overlooked,” he agreed. And he actually would need to be sure there weren’t any other glaring obstacles, though he wasn’t sure if the other humans were of Mizrak’s mind that pregnancy meant safety, or if they instead dreaded the possibility.
The talk returned to the national guard battalion camping nearby, whose numbers were rapidly dwindling. They were being caught, drained of blood, and then turned into night creatures and sent out to catch their fellows and bring them back to the chateau for the next round of feeding. If vampires could get fat off the blood they drank, these courtiers would be bursting their seams with every twitch.
After he saw that Edouard had eaten both his and Mizrak’s portions of gruel, and that the sack of jerky was substantially smaller while all the humans looked satisfied, he requested and received permission to take his humans home. They both ate the full meals Madame Duval had left for them, but at least neither had fallen on the food like they were starving.
“I assume that was an adequate amount of jerky?” Olrox asked. “Everyone seemed satisfied.”
Mizrak nodded. “Yes, all the others were full for the first time since this all began. What did Báthory say?”
“That the gruel ration will be doubled, and that I’ll continue providing enough jerky for all of you,” Olrox summarized.
“She did that voluntarily?” Mizrak asked skeptically. Edouard too looked doubtful.
Olrox shrugged. “After I pointed out that pregnancies were less likely if your brethren are starving, yes.”
“Ah—so voluntarily, but not unprompted,” Edouard murmured.
“Precisely,” Olrox confirmed.
Mizrak snorted. “Typical. I’m going to bathe. Coming?” he asked Edouard, who nodded and followed him. Olrox settled into his armchair to read for a while, satisfied with how the night had gone. Though he would need to source quite a lot of meat, some of it by tomorrow, if he didn’t want them to run out.
***
Olrox woke to the sound of retching. Mizrak was still asleep, so Edouard must be the one ill. The young man had been with them for three weeks at this point, and he’d been eating well, filling out from gaunt to merely thin; he’d also been rebuilding muscle as he and Mizrak practiced sword forms. Had he eaten something that disagreed with him, or was he not faring as well as the vampire had believed?
Olrox slid carefully out of the bed, trying not to disturb Mizrak, then stepped into the bathing room. The privacy curtain was open, and Edouard knelt on the floor in front of the privy, clutching his stomach and shaking. “Are you ill?” Olrox asked quietly. Edouard’s shaking only increased, and Olrox crouched next to him. He was crying, biting his lip to keep from making noise. The vampire reached out a hand toward the singer’s abdomen, intending to check if something was wrong, but the younger man flinched badly. Olrox had thought Edouard wasn’t afraid of him anymore, but clearly he’d been mistaken about that, too.
Taking a seat on the floor, Olrox ignored his bitter disappointment and said quietly, “I’d like to help. But I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Edouard mumbled something too indistinct even for Olrox’s ears, and he asked, “Can you repeat that?”
Edouard breathed in shakily, still refusing to look at Olrox, and breathed, “I don’t want to be pregnant. I don’t—what if it’s his?” Vaublanc, presumably. If Edouard was pregnant, he was clearly a very hardy young man, given everything he’d been through. But he completely understood his unwillingness to carry the child of Vaublanc or any of his fellows.
“I can check if you are, in fact, pregnant. If you’re not, the concern ends there. If you are, what would you like to do about it?” Olrox asked.
“What do you mean, do?” Edouard hissed, finally glancing at Olrox out of the corner of his eye. “What can you possibly do about it? Or do you just mean you’ll beat me until I miscarry?”
“Nothing so violent as all that,” Olrox assured him, brow furrowed. “But I believe I can end a pregnancy, if that’s what you need me to do. It might be uncomfortable, but it would be nothing compared to a beating. If you are pregnant, do you want me to end it?”
Edouard nodded. “It would probably be his. And even if it wasn’t, I don’t …” He shuddered, and more tears fell when he closed his eyes. “Please,” he whispered.
Olrox reached out a hand again, and this time Edouard let him place it over his abdomen. Olrox stretched out his magic until he found it: a tiny ball growing inside Edouard. Not a welcome addition, but a violation akin to a parasite. The vampire gently broke the connections between it and Edouard and watched the ball fall away.
When he opened his eyes, Edouard was staring at him, looking both terrified and hopeful. “Something twinged. Is it gone?” he whispered.
“It’s gone,” Olrox murmured. “I promise, it’s over.”
Edouard buried his face in his hands and wailed, though Olrox could tell he was still fighting to keep his voice low to not disturb Mizrak. He lifted an arm to wrap around Edouard’s shoulders, and the young man all but fell into him, gripping his tunic and shaking. Olrox wrapped both arms around him and rocked him gently.
Nearly an hour later, Mizrak entered to find them still on the floor, Edouard curled up in Olrox’s lap and fast asleep, tear stains still visible on his cheeks. “What happened?” the knight asked, leaning against the edge of the tub. “Is he all right?”
“He just needed help getting rid of a parasite, that’s all,” Olrox murmured. “It was overwhelming, but he’ll be all right.”
“Good,” Mizrak breathed, relieved. Perhaps more relieved than the removal of a worm would be worth, Olrox mused. Mizrak might be aware of exactly why Edouard was overwhelmed, and just how badly things might have gone for the younger man if Báthory or any of her people had found out.
Olrox carefully got to his feet, with Edouard in his arms, and carried him back to the bed. Mizrak settled himself close to Edouard. When Olrox made to leave, the knight told him, “Stay. He’ll need you here.”
“Are you sure I won’t just make him uncomfortable, after everything?” Olrox asked hesitantly.
“I’m sure. A delightfully warm vampire who can reassure him that it’s truly over will be very welcome.”
Olrox climbed into bed, hoping Mizrak was right about that. Edouard rolled closer and buried his face in Olrox’s neck, as Mizrak frequently did; the knight moved closer as well, cocooning Edouard in warmth. Mizrak drifted off, and Olrox decided it was still early enough that he, himself, could enjoy a little more sleep, even if he didn’t need it. They could all start the day properly later.
***
Over the course of the next two weeks, Mizrak’s belly grew larger than a pregnant person carrying twins. He was unable to sit down or get up off the floor by himself, so he relied on Olrox to choose a good spot for him in court, knowing that while Edouard could fetch him things, he wouldn’t be moving until they left for the night.
This afternoon, he’d realized he would have to give up his sword forms until the eggs were laid, because he just couldn’t balance well enough to be safe. He hoped the incubation period was on the shorter end of the two to three month range due to the number of eggs, because he wasn’t sure he would make it through almost another month of this. And Olrox has said the snakelets were unlikely to be harmed by being laid early: they would simply be smaller, and they might take additional time in serpent form before they shifted into dhampirs for the first time.
His back was nearly always cramping now, and he half-wondered if it might never forgive this abuse, even with Olrox’s magic regularly easing the strain. Tonight, he was lying with his head and shoulders in Edouard’s lap while his lower back was supported by a thick roll of blankets. The furs were too hot to have anywhere near him, lately, and he kept his tunic tied up over his belly to let the cool night air soothe his skin. He felt like he had a brazier strapped to his middle!
Edouard was singing softly as he ran his fingers through Mizrak’s hair. He still flinched when he caught sight of Vaublanc, but otherwise he’d relaxed significantly. At home, he and Olrox had even begun debating which operas and composers were better than others, and both of them seemed thrilled to have found someone who cared as much about music as they themselves did. All of the musical talk went straight over Mizrak’s head, but he was glad they enjoyed it.
Báthory was smiling her hungry smile again, the way she usually did when she looked in his direction these days. He ignored her, looking around for Olrox. His vampire looked incredibly bored, uninterested in whatever the vampires near him were chattering about with such excitement.
A twinge in his back made him hiss, and Edouard paused his aria to ask, “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”
Mizrak shook his head. “No. Just cramps. Maybe I overdid it with something, but I’m not sure what.” Olrox had given him his usual massage and light healing just before they left, so he doubted it was muscle strain. But he didn’t think he’d eaten too much of anything that would cause problems, either. What he wouldn’t give for a slice of bread, though …
Edouard resumed singing, though his voice wavered when Vaublanc groaned nearby. Mizrak was certain that was deliberate on the vampire’s part: he always seemed to be lurking, probably hoping to find some way of avenging his deflated ego.
Finally, Olrox strode over and hauled Mizrak upright, then offered a hand to Edouard, who grasped it happily. Once they were both on their feet, he took them home.
Mizrak groaned tiredly as Olrox settled him into bed. “How do women and omegas manage this for so long?” he asked. “I can’t wait for them to be out!” Edouard sat at the table to eat; Olrox brought Mizrak his plate and sat next to him.
“To be fair, if they reach the size you are now, I imagine they feel exactly the same eagerness for it to be over with,” Olrox said, smiling wryly. “You would undoubtedly have managed more easily with only three eggs.”
“Definitely, but that ship sailed quite a while ago.” Mizrak blew his hair out of his eyes and grumbled, “I need a haircut.”
Edouard smiled crookedly. “I need a shave.” His cheeks were starting to look a little fuzzy, despite the omega hormones; Mizrak’s attempt at a beard was still on the patchy side but slowly filling in. The other vampires didn’t seem to understand why Olrox would allow his slaves facial hair, but none of them had thrown a fit yet.
Olrox sighed dramatically. When they both looked over to him, he declared, “What I need is for you two to tell me these things! How long did you plan to just suffer quietly?”
“Well, ‘suffer’ is a rather strong word. But probably a few more days?” Mizrak admitted sheepishly. “It’s not a constant irritation or anything.”
Edouard was trying to keep a straight face as he said, “Same. At least a few more days.” He lost the fight and burst out laughing when Olrox groaned and flopped backward on the bed. Mizrak rescued his plate just before it toppled off his knee after being jostled.
“Is there anything else you haven’t asked for yet, while we’re here?” the vampire pleaded. “Extra pillows? Different soap? A horse?”
“Well, now that you mention it …” Edouard began seriously, then grinned. “I’m joking. All I need is a razor.”
“The two of you are going to be the death of me,” Olrox intoned, voice muffled by the pillow he’d pulled over his head.
“I hope not,” Mizrak deadpanned. “Soon you’ll be catering to the needs of seven, not just two.”
“I think that will take all three of us. Though skipping the infant stage should help. We’d never sleep again, otherwise,” Edouard pointed out wryly.
Mizrak handed his plate to Edouard, then shuffled backwards on the bed. Olrox stood and left the room, coming back a few minutes later with a razor and all the accessories it needed, along with a pair of scissors. He dropped them on the table in front of Edouard, who seized them and headed for the bathing room, Mizrak following as quickly as he could.
Mizrak soon emerged with several fewer inches of hair and happily, if laboriously, climbed into bed. When Olrox dropped onto the bed and pulled him close, Mizrak winced. “As soon as Edouard comes to bed, you’re going to have to switch targets,” he warned the vampire. “As much as I enjoy being held, I might burst into flames if I get any hotter.”
“Woe is me: a nice, warm vampire to wrap around me. Whatever shall I do?” Edouard joked as he climbed into bed. He still wore his braies at night, as did Mizrak and Olrox for his comfort, but at least he was no longer clinging to the protection of the nightshirt covering vulnerable skin.
Olrox gave Mizrak a last squeeze, then rolled over and wrapped around Edouard, who sighed happily. Mizrak settled in with his left side snug against Olrox, as much skin contact as he could currently handle without becoming too hot to sleep. Let the eggs come soon …
Chapter Text
Mizrak woke around noon the following day to find that neither Olrox nor Edouard were still in bed with him. Growling, he didn’t bother to ring for breakfast, just grabbed the sack of jerky off the table and began gnawing on that, instead. His belly was cramping more than it usually did, but he was ravenous!
Throwing on clothes after he filled his stomach, he headed downstairs in search of company. Edouard was in the lounge practicing sword forms; based on his sweat-soaked tunic, he’d been at it a while. “Good morning!” the younger man said cheerfully, taking a break to talk with him. “How are you feeling today? You slept a long time.”
“Afternoon. And everything hurts,” Mizrak grumbled, taking a seat on the only chair in the room.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Edouard responded. “Olrox is out at the moment; he was rather vague about where he was going or why. But if you need him, I’m sure he’ll come back sooner.”
“No. I’m just grumpy, more than anything,” Mizrak admitted. “Feels like my skin is too tight.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Edouard offered.
Mizrak shook his head. “Just finish whatever you were doing before. I don’t want to do anything, but I don’t want to be alone, either.”
“All right. I’ve only got half a form left, though. Then we could go back upstairs, if you like? I could rub your back with my sadly non-magical hands until Olrox gets back,” Edouard murmured.
“Thanks. Might take you up on that.” The knight shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a better position. Every time he thought he found one, within a minute it was the least comfortable position he could imagine, so he moved again. Had this chair always been so uncomfortable?
Giving up on the chair, he stood—and suddenly his abdomen clenched and his braies felt wet. “Olrox!” he called hoarsely, clutching his belly. He could feel liquid slowly sliding down his leg inside his trousers. That wasn’t blood, was it?
Olrox must have materialized in the entry hall, because his shoes clattered on the tile just before he sped around the corner. “What is it? What’s—oh!” He moved forward and touched his palm to Mizrak’s belly, stopping the pain but not the feel of movement. “You’re about to lay our eggs!” he told Mizrak, leaning close and kissing his temple.
“How do I get them out?” Mizrak asked, trying not to panic at the unexpected news. “They’re too big!” He could see Edouard hovering behind Olrox, clearly wanting to help but entirely unsure how.
“We’ll stretch you, like we did to put them in. They’re fist width now, maybe even a little smaller, since they’re early. But the shells are flexible, and they’re long rather than rounded,” Olrox soothed. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
He scooped Mizrak into his arms and carried him up the stairs, Edouard following. “Could you lay the large towel over the bed, Edouard? This may be messy if the remnants of my seed are being expelled now as well.”
“Oh, that’s what that is,” Mizrak mumbled, clinging to his vampire. “My trousers and braies will need scrubbing. At least I wasn’t sitting down anymore.”
Edouard laid the towel along one side of the bed, and Olrox carefully lowered Mizrak on top of it, then helped him strip. “If you’re staying to help, once the eggs come, I’ll ask you to wipe each egg clean and put them in that basket there,” Olrox told Edouard, pointing to a fabric-lined wicker basket with a hinged lid that had appeared in the corner last week. “If at any time you’re uncomfortable, just step out, we’ll manage. I’m going to be focusing solely on Mizrak until this is over.” Edouard nodded and fetched the basket, sitting in the armchair to wait.
Olrox fetched the vial of oil from the bathing room, where it had sat untouched for over two months. “Try to relax. You remember how this part goes, right?”
Mizrak snorted. “It wasn’t that long ago that you put them in.” He heaved a deep breath and then blew it all back out, allowing his muscles relax as he did.
Olrox coated his fingers and slowly slid one, then two, into his ass. He avoided Mizrak’s prostate, just as he’d done that night when preparing to insert the eggs, knowing the knight would be getting more than enough stimulation. If the eggs coming out felt anything like them going in, that would be true again.
Three fingers. Four. Olrox carefully tucked his thumb in and slid deeper as Mizrak fought the urge to squirm, to make the hand inside him brush his prostate. His breath hitched as something moved within him. “I just touched one of the eggs,” Olrox told him. “They’ve already moved down significantly, so this shouldn’t take long.”
He pulled his hand out and wiped it on the towel, then slid up to lie alongside Mizrak. “When you feel the urge to push, do so.” Then he slanted his mouth over Mizrak’s, letting his tongue out to twine with Mizrak’s own. What a delightful distraction from the odd feeling below.
Soon he felt the first egg slide forward, and he bore down. Olrox swallowed his moan as the egg slid slowly past his prostate. When he gasped in air, his hole relaxed momentarily, and he whined when the egg slid backwards. Bearing down again, the egg slid forward … more … more … He keened as it finally reached the point of no return and smoothly slid out of him.
He broke the kiss to pant, looking down when he felt a hand brush his thigh. Edouard had scooped the leathery egg into a towel, carefully wiping it down before placing it gently in the basket.
The next egg slid forward, and he moaned again as he pushed it past his prostate. Even with breaks between the eggs, he wasn’t sure he’d make it through all five before he came, after which this might be significantly more difficult with his muscles already tired.
The second egg slipped free, and the third was already moving. He yanked Olrox’s mouth back down, shouting into the kiss as his prostate was stimulated mercilessly until the third left his body. Pulling back, he gasped, “Don’t let me come yet.”
“Good thought,” Olrox murmured, moving his hand down to wrap his fingers in a tight ring around the base of Mizrak’s cock. Just in time, too—he yelped as the fourth egg moved toward the exit. When it was nearly free, a shudder ripped through him, and the egg slipped back inside. Mizrak moaned desperately, forcing the egg forward and out.
The fifth didn’t seem to want to move, and he looked desperately at his vampire. Olrox slid his hand over Mizrak’s stomach, and slowly the last egg slid forward. Gasping as it bullied past his prostate, Mizrak fought to keep pushing. He needed it out now! At last, the egg slipped free, and Mizrak finally came with a howl, white fire tearing through him.
When he opened his eyes, Olrox was still holding him as Edouard gently wiped him clean. He shivered, oversensitive, but lay still. When Olrox noticed his eyes were open, he asked, “Do you want to see them?”
Mizrak nodded weakly, and Edouard passed the basket to Olrox, who tilted it ever so slightly for Mizrak to see. Looking down at the leathery little tubes, Mizrak said absently, “They felt bigger than that.” They didn’t really seem real yet, either.
Olrox chuckled. “I can only imagine.” Presumably seeing that Mizrak didn’t want to hold them or anything, the vampire set the basket aside, asking, “Would you rather eat first or sleep a while?”
“I want bread,” Mizrak told him seriously. “And cheese. And vegetables maybe, or whole fruit. No meat.” He’d had more than enough meat recently and was tired of it.
“I’ll get it,” Edouard volunteered, slipping out the door. He didn’t seem to be fleeing. Maybe he just wanted to give them a moment alone?
Mizrak took advantage of his normal-sized figure to straddle Olrox’s lap, wrapping his arms around Olrox’s shoulder as the vampire’s hands slid to his lower back, easing the still-cramping muscles. “How long do we have until we have to leave?” he asked, fighting back a yawn.
Olrox smiled and shook his head. “We’re skipping tonight. Báthory won’t like it, but I plan to tell her the birthing process started a few minutes before we would’ve left, and we couldn’t even come late because the last egg wasn’t laid until an hour or so past dawn.”
Mizrak arched an eyebrow. “That’s a lot longer than this took,” he pointed out.
“She doesn’t need to know that. And it’s on the shorter side for how long it usually takes for humans to give birth,” Olrox countered. “I just can’t deal with her tonight,” he continued, lowering his voice. “I don’t want to hear her talk about her dhampirs, as if she has any claim on our children.”
Mizrak smiled softly. “Sounds reasonable. Even if they don’t feel real, yet.”
Olrox’s brow furrowed. “Does it bother you that they’ll be in serpent form initially?” he asked carefully. “Will you … be able to care about them?”
Mizrak nodded. “I think once they hatch, I’ll feel more attached. They’ll look like your other form, then, and I’m fond of you in either form.” Understatement of the year, that. “I’m just having trouble with the eggs—shockingly, they don’t really look like either of us,” he joked.
Olrox laughed. “Fair enough. At least I can hear them in there.”
Before Mizrak could ask what they sounded like, Edouard returned; Mizrak, suddenly remembering he was naked, was desperately glad none of the others had come up with him, as he slid to sit next to Olrox and pulled the sheet over his lap. “Madame Duval demands your request for a celebratory dinner,” the younger man told him, handing him a plate with slices of two different kinds of bread, three different cheeses, and both a pear and a bunch of grapes.
“Some kind of savory pie, maybe,” Mizrak said before he began devouring the food. This was bliss: no restrictions on his food, no court to worry about for the night, an attentive friend, and his vampire to wrap himself around—without overheating!
When he finished eating, Olrox and Edouard stripped down to braies while Mizrak put on a fresh pair, tightening the laces significantly further, and then all three settled in for a nap.
***
Olrox woke late afternoon, not sure what had disturbed him. Mizrak was wrapped around him, one knee over his legs and nose buried in his throat. Edouard lay plastered against his back, cheek resting on some of his hair, puffs of breath brushing the back of his neck. The unhatched snakelets were chirping quietly in their basket on the hearth, with the low flames keeping them warm. For all that, something was wrong … but what?
“You can’t just—come back here this instant or I’ll—” Madame Duval’s shout made the hair on the back of his neck rise, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. Someone was in the house!
Before he could gently disentangle himself to get up without waking the others, a young woman’s voice outside the door said, “It’s in here!” He sat up fast when the door opened, revealing a dark-skinned young woman.
Edouard, who’d been disturbed his movements, grumbled, “Olrox, what—”
“Edouard?” the woman breathed, stepping closer.
Edouard’s head jerked up. “Annette? Annette!” He scrambled out of the bed, while Olrox’s instincts insisted the vampire should keep the younger man close, and stumbled over to embrace the young woman—his sister, presumably. But what was she doing in his house?
“You found it?” a young man’s voice sounded outside the door, and a pale hand appeared to push the door open wider. Olrox’s eyes snapped to the Belmont family crest emblazoned on the man’s chest, and he snarled, torn between protecting Mizrak, retrieving their eggs from the hearth, and pulling Edouard away from the threat. The man froze in the doorway, wide-eyed and shaking. He looked just like the Belmont bitch. So, the child had survived, after all.
Before he could decide who needed his protection most, an even paler hand reached through the door and gently pushed Belmont to the side. A very familiar figure stepped into the room. “Olrox?” he asked, surprised.
“Adrian. What are you doing in my house? And with a Belmont, no less?” he snarled.
Adrian, without hesitation, grabbed the still-frozen Belmont by the shoulder and shoved him out the door, closing it between them and leaning casually against it. “It’s been a while. Ten years, I believe?”
“Nine. What are you doing in my house?” Olrox growled again.
“Looking for the heart of Sekhmet, actually. The young lady tracked the partial soul in it here.” The young lady in question didn’t look up from where she had her face buried in Edouard’s hair, apparently weeping in relief; Edouard had a blissful smile on his face, and Olrox’s chest ached. The singer would end up leaving with his beloved sister, wouldn’t he? “Do you know anything about that?” Adrian asked.
Olrox yanked his attention away from Edouard and growled, “I might. But I’m not inclined to share information if you’re consorting with Belmonts again. The previous one did enough damage. Perhaps I should kill him now, to prevent him murdering anyone else I care about.”
Pounding on the door was accompanied by frantic shouting. “Alucard, open the door! That’s the vampire who murdered my mother! Annette, be careful!”
Mizrak, who thus far had remained undisturbed, groaned, then called, “Richter, shut up! I’m trying to sleep!” Fantastic, he knew the boy. The knight dragged on Olrox’s arm, but Olrox refused to lie down just now, with so many potential threats present.
The pounding stopped, and the Belmont asked incredulously, “Mizrak?!”
Adrian interjected, “Olrox, if you would just give us Sekhmet’s heart, we’ll be on our way.”
Olrox huffed a sardonic laugh. “That would be rather difficult, given that I ate it months ago.”
Adrian stared at him. “You what? Olrox, please tell me you didn’t.”
“If you really want me to lie to you—” Olrox began.
“Get away from that door! Master Olrox, Mister Mizrak, Mister Edouard, are you all right?” Amelia yelled through the door. Mizrak groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. Edouard dropped his forehead onto the young woman’s shoulder, beginning to laugh somewhat hysterically.
Olrox pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. “We’re fine, Amelia.”
Thomas called, “Do you want us to throw them out, Master Olrox?” The Belmont boy sputtered indignantly. Just how many people were in the hall right now?
While having them thrown out might be enjoyable, he couldn’t put the burden on Thomas, when he knew how stubborn at least some of the members in the group were likely to be. “Show them to the salon, please. We’ll be down shortly. Thank you, Thomas,” Olrox called. His life was becoming a farce.
He could hear Amelia mutter, “Madame Duval won’t be feeding them, that’s for sure.” She then told the Belmont, “Get downstairs this instant, or Mister Thomas and I will push you down.” Given the yelp that followed, Olrox was willing to bet Thomas had decided not to wait, and he’d probably grabbed the Belmont by the ear to force him downstairs. He’d done it to Bertrand before with far less provocation.
Turning to Mizrak and temporarily ignoring the others in the room, he asked quietly, “Do you want to go back to sleep? You don’t need to come downstairs if you don’t want to.”
Mizrak grumbled, “No, I’m awake. But there had better be food.”
“You know Madame Duval would never leave you hungry when she had the chance to feed you,” he murmured. Placing a hand on the knight’s lower back, he asked, “Are you sore anywhere?”
Mizrak stretched, then shook his head. “No. For once, nothing hurts.” He sat up and looked at Adrian. “Who the hell are you?”
Adrian’s lips quirked at the knight’s bluntness. “My name is Adrian, though some people call me Alucard.” Turning to Olrox, he said, “Perhaps we should withdraw downstairs to let you all dress. I’ll be sure to keep Richter contained. Annette?”
The young woman reluctantly drew back from Edouard, who gave her a warm smile. Then the two intruders retreated, closing the door behind them.
Edouard turned to them, beaming. “She’s alive!” he whispered, as if he could hardly believe it.
Olrox smiled despite his own concerns, seeing the younger man so happy. Getting out of bed, he dressed at a human speed, still fixing the lay of his jacket and straightening his cuffs when the other two had finished pulling on tunics, trousers, and socks. Neither of them had gotten back into the habit of wearing footwear at home, though Edouard only had one somewhat worn pair of stockings that would fit with his shoes, anyway.
He was delaying, and he knew it. He didn’t want to go downstairs and see the son of the bitch who’d murdered his former lover. Especially if it meant risking the man he loved more than he’d ever loved anyone before, or the man who was not far behind in his affections, for all they’d never been intimate.
Mizrak and Edouard must have been communicating silently while he wasn’t paying attention, because Mizrak came and wrapped his arms around him from the front, while Edouard embraced him from behind, resting his cheek on Olrox’s shoulder. “No matter who is downstairs, you’re our vampire, and we’re keeping you,” Mizrak told him, then pulled him into a kiss.
Once Olrox had relaxed somewhat, Mizrak pulled back. “Edouard, can you pass me the basket? I think the eggs should be hatching soon, and I don’t want to miss it.”
Edouard pulled away after leaving a chaste kiss on the back of Olrox’s neck, which made his breath hitch. Fetching the basket and passing it carefully to Mizrak, he looped his arm around Olrox and asked, “Ready?” Olrox nodded reluctantly, and Mizrak opened the door.
Chapter Text
The salon was downright crowded, Olrox noted. Madame Duval, Amelia, Bertrand, and Thomas stood with their backs to the door, keeping the uninvited guests in sight. A girl and a woman just past her prime, alike enough that they must be mother and daughter, sat on one of the couches on either side of the Belmont boy; each kept a restraining hand on one of his wrists. Annette sat in one of the armchairs near the hearth; Adrian lounged against the wall next to her.
Mizrak nodded to the girl and her mother, saying, “Maria, Terra, it’s good to see you’re both well. And hopefully keeping Richter out of trouble.” He led the way to the other couch, taking the seat closest to the door and settling the basket in his lap. Edouard herded Olrox to sit next to the knight, then sat himself, just across the open space from Annette.
“We’re doing as well as we can be,” the woman said. “Night creatures burned down my home; it was thanks to Richter and Annette that Maria and I got out safely. We haven’t seen you in months. How have you been?”
“For that matter, where have you been?” the girl, presumably Maria, interjected. “The abbey’s overrun with those night creatures!”
Mizrak sighed. “I was afraid of that. I’m sorry to hear about your home, Terra. And I’ve been doing well enough for the past few months, far better than I was doing at the end of last year. All of us knights were taken to be slaves for Báthory’s court.” He left out the part about now being an omega and the demand to breed dhampirs; Olrox had no intention of mentioning it either, and he doubted Edouard would.
“You’re being kept prisoner here!” Richter spat. “I knew—” He started to rise, and Terra yanked him back down. Maria put her hand over his mouth without looking, a clearly habitual move, and she nearly hit him in the nose.
“Is that what happened to you, too?” Annette asked Edouard over Richter’s muffled tirade.
“Yes.” He didn’t seem inclined to talk further on the subject. Olrox opened his mouth to redirect the conversation, when Adrian did it for him.
“I told you upstairs we were searching for Sekhmet’s heart and the other part of her soul. How did you find it, and why did you eat it?” the dhampir asked calmly, though his jaw was tense.
“You told me in your letter a few years ago that you didn’t find it in Egypt,” Olrox drawled. “So when I arrived in France, I decided to check the Louvre, since I heard they had several mummies there. Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to look anywhere farther afield.”
“Why did you eat it?” Adrian repeated, frustrated.
“I wanted the power to wipe Báthory off the face of the Earth, of course. Why else would I eat the thing?” Olrox asked. He probably shouldn’t be enjoying stringing Adrian along with half answers, but on the other hand, the dhampir had brought a Belmont into Olrox’s home.
“Did it give you that kind of power?” asked Maria curiously.
“No. It gave me something else, something very useful,” he purred.
“Which was?” growled Adrian, losing his patience.
“Sekhmet was a goddess of both war and healing. The latter is much more helpful in the long term, even if it doesn’t help with killing Báthory,” Olrox drawled.
“His healing power saved my life on the day we met,” interjected Mizrak.
“And he’s saved mine probably half a dozen times,” Edouard added.
Annette stared at her brother, then turned her gaze on Olrox. “If this is true … thank you,” she told him.
Olrox gave her an acknowledging nod, then looked back to Adrian beside her. “So if you’re seeking power, it’s not available.”
Adrian sighed tiredly. “We’ll have to find another way to kill her, then. I don’t suppose—”
Olrox stopped listening when the tiny squeaks of the snakelets changed tone. He leaned toward Mizrak and unwrapped the leather cord keeping the basket’s lid closed, lifting it to peer inside. On several of the eggs, there were thin spots in the membrane, where the snakelets’ heads would soon break through.
“Are they all right?” Mizrak asked worriedly, leaning over to look.
Olrox looked up at him, beaming. “They’re about to hatch!” He felt Edouard lean into him to peer over his shoulder.
Madame Duval, on the other hand, raced out of the room. Olrox looked after her, brow furrowed. Was she afraid? Disgusted? Why— “I better give her a hand,” Amelia said cheerfully. “Those trays will be heavy!” And she skipped out of the room as well. Maybe not afraid or disgusted, then.
“What’s going on?” Maria asked, looking from person to person.
“I’d like to know that as well,” Adrian murmured.
Olrox lost interest in the rest of the room again as the surface of one of the eggs cracked, and a tiny snout pushed outward, squeaking eagerly. Olrox stared, mesmerized, as the head wiggled back and forth, forcing the crack wider, until finally it forced its way through. With a few more wiggles, the snakelet cracked the egg further, allowing a damp mantle to emerge, after which it slithered out unimpeded.
“He’s beautiful,” whispered Mizrak, reaching out a finger to carefully run over the dark blue scales. The snakelet squeaked and wrapped around his finger and up past his palm, finally resting its head on his wrist. “Is it a he, actually?” the knight asked.
Olrox shrugged. “Given they’re hermaphroditic in this form, there’s no way to know until they shift.” He gently fluffed his firstborn’s mantle, settling it so the feathers would dry faster.
“I’ll call them all ‘he’ until then, since I don’t want to call them ‘it,’” Mizrak mused. Olrox shrugged, perfectly content with either.
Olrox startled when Maria spoke from only a few feet away. “Oh, how cute!” she said softly, eyes shining. “Can I pet him? Or maybe hold one later? Where did they come from?”
Olrox blinked at her, then grinned. “Well, when a man and a quetzalcoatl shifter—” Edouard clapped a hand over the vampire’s mouth.
“They’re your children, Olrox?” Adrian guessed. “Congratulations. I didn’t realize you’d planned to start a family.”
“His and mine, yes,” Mizrak clarified. “And it was a recent decision.” Turning to Maria, the knight added, “You can probably hold one later.”
If Mizrak was willing to trust the girl, Olrox supposed he could as well. Though he did warn her, “They’re venomous, so do be careful.”
Maria grinned and danced her way back to the other couch, where Olrox noticed Terra was gripping the Belmont’s earlobe, hissing for him to behave. Belmont opened his mouth to protest again, and Maria’s hand slapped back over it.
Edouard was staring at Belmont in consternation. “This is who she wanted you to find?” he murmured to Annette. “Is he always so—?”
The young woman shook her head. “No, this level of immaturity is new. Hopefully he’ll be ready to act like an adult again soon.” Olrox wouldn’t hold his breath for that.
The second egg cracked, and a small red-scaled snakelet forced its way out. Olrox offered his hand to climb up, and his second child settled with its head on his wrist as the third and fourth eggs began to crack, revealing purple and green scales respectively.
“Can I …?” asked Edouard. Olrox pulled one of his hands closer, and both children twined around his wrist and each other. The younger man stroked their backs gently, beaming.
The fifth egg had stopped shaking, and the squeaking within had ceased. Olrox reached out a claw and carefully sliced the egg membrane open, heart in his throat. The orange-scaled snakelet inside was smaller than its siblings, and it lay limply, already exhausted. The vampire quickly realized why: its horns weren’t fully developed, so it had been unable to break its shell. Olrox lifted it gently and helped it coil around his neck, hoping the greater warmth would help it recover.
Mizrak reached out and stroked its tiny head. “Is he all right?” he asked worriedly.
“He’ll be fine,” Olrox assured him. “He’ll grow and catch up with his siblings soon enough.”
Madame Duval and Amelia returned with two large trays. Thomas and Bertrand moved the coffee table closer, and the women set down the trays, Amelia beaming and Madame Duval looking nervous.
“I made lots of hand pies, like you requested,” she told Mizrak. “But I also got a recipe from a woman in the market for … cass-something, from Malta? I don’t know if you like them, or if these will be any good, since I had to make some substitutions—”
“Qassatats?” Mizrak breathed. He selected one of the half-dozen items on the tray that looked different and bit into it, humming and closing his eyes to savor it. After he swallowed, he opened his eyes again to meet Madame Duval’s worried gaze. “This is amazing. Thank you!” And he quickly took another bite.
“You’re most welcome, Mister Mizrak!” she replied, beaming. “I made plenty of food for the whole household to celebrate the children’s arrival! Though I don’t know if there will be enough for … unexpected guests,” she added. Seeing several small heads leaning toward the smell of food, she told Olrox, “I’m not sure what your children eat, but I’ve got some chicken in the kitchen. I can cook it if they don’t eat raw meat.”
Olrox smiled at her. “Raw chicken will be perfect, thank you.” She curtseyed and hurried out of the room to fetch it. The vampire nudged Edouard, who was still fixated on the children he held. “Eat. Then you can help feed them, if you like.” Edouard looked up with a grin, then seized a hand pie and began to devour it.
Bertrand, Amelia, and Thomas also grabbed pies and began eating the celebratory meal. The uninvited guests all stared at the food hungrily, but before any of them could consider moving, Adrian said quietly, “Since we did arrive without an invitation, I think we’ll wait until your household has eaten their fill, then see if there’s enough left for us to eat at that point. We wouldn’t want to be rude.” The younger three looked disappointed at the declaration but settled in to wait.
Madame Duval returned with a bowl of raw chicken and handed it to Olrox, then grabbed one of the hand pies to eat. Olrox began slicing the meat into smaller pieces with his claws. Just because his children could swallow larger pieces didn’t mean they needed to.
He offered the first piece to his firstborn, since the snakelet looked ready to leave his hand and slither straight into the bowl. The next piece went to the snakelet around his neck. The other three children were all busily smelling what everyone else was eating and only ate when chicken was dangled directly in front of their snouts. Edouard and Mizrak, now comfortably full on two hand pies and three qassatats respectively, grabbed more pieces of chicken to feed to the children. This might be one of the happiest days of Olrox’s life, despite the Belmont.
Once his household had eaten, the uninvited guests pounced on the food—or at least, the younger three did. Adrian and Terra selected food and ate calmly, while the other three ate like they hadn’t eaten in days. Unsurprisingly, Belmont had the worst manners, taking huge bites and ignoring the crumbs that fell to the floor. Terra seemed to be watching this disapprovingly, though: perhaps she would make him clean it up, so Amelia didn’t have to.
After they finished all the food, Amelia gathered the empty trays, and the servants dispersed to finish their work for the day. Olrox expected at least one or two would choose tasks in the entry hall again.
Mizrak was leaning against Olrox’s left side, dozing with his head on the vampire’s shoulder. Edouard was leaning into his other side, though he at least was wide awake, not worn out as Mizrak was. Olrox snaked an arm around each of their waists, and Edouard smiled at him, snuggling closer. All five snakelets were sleeping as well.
Adrian broke the comfortable silence to say, “Olrox, I have a request and an offer for you. Four of us were staying in Terra’s home until it was attacked two nights ago; I arrived too late to do more than help drive the surviving night creatures off afterward. We currently have no other place to stay. If you wouldn’t mind hosting us for a time, I would be happy to apply wards to the property, to prevent a repeat attack.”
Olrox’s lip curled. “Most of you I would be willing to host; there are two unoccupied bedrooms upstairs. But I don’t trust Belmont enough to allow him to stay under my roof,” he spat.
“That’s rich, coming from the vampire who murdered my mother!” the boy snarled.
Adrian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Richter, you don’t know the full story of what happened that night—”
“He killed her right in front of me!” the boy shouted.
Olrox tuned them out as the hair on the back of his neck rose. Something wasn’t right … He gently unwound his children from his wrist and neck, handing them carefully to Edouard since he was still awake, and slid Mizrak’s head to rest on the couch back. He then rose and moved toward the door. Belmont was still shouting, but at this point everyone else awake had turned to watch him.
Easing the door open, he heard a harsh whisper coming from outside the back door, which he could see was ajar through the open kitchen door. “—which room they’re in, or I’ll kill you.”
“Go to hell,” Bertrand bit out past some obstruction around his throat.
Olrox strode through the kitchen and flung the back door wide to find Vaublanc had Bertrand pinned against the wall with a hand around his throat, fangs bared. The setting sun still gilded the tops of the trees, but the yard lay in shadow. Vaublanc looked up and seemed startled to see him. “Olrox! What the hell are you doing here?”
“Given that it’s my house, I could ask you the same. Drop him, now,” Olrox told him, his own fangs bared.
Vaublanc let Bertrand slump to the ground, far more interested in Olrox. “I followed that bitch from Saint-Domingue here, and who do I find? A traitor! I’ll kill you and the bitch, then take both slaves as my own! And then Báthory will favor me!” he cried, then lunged. Night creatures boiled around the corners of the house; breaking glass and shouts from inside indicated more had broken in.
Olrox snarled and met Vaublanc’s attack, trusting the others to handle the night creatures. Vaublanc was more skilled than Olrox would’ve given him credit for, feinting and lunging seemingly at random, which made it hard to predict and counter his attacks. He could hear bestial shrieks echoing inside. Bertrand scrambled back into the house, and by the sound of it, headed straight for the lounge and the weapons stored there. Good man.
Olrox had been fighting hand-to-hand as Vaublanc did, but now he took a precious second to retrieve two daggers, earning a slash of claws across his cheek during the momentary hole in his defense. It was entirely worth it, though, when he drove the daggers through either side of Vaublanc’s neck and into the mortar between the stones of the house, pinning him in place. Nothing important had been punctured yet, but if Vaublanc moved to free himself, he was likely to cut his own throat, possibly even behead himself.
As Vaublanc snarled, Olrox called, “Is everyone still alive?” The house was chillingly quiet now; on the other hand, he hadn’t heard any human screams, and if only night creatures were left, he would hear them moving.
Mizrak called back to confirm that everyone in the salon was still alive, including Bertrand; Amelia yelled that she, Madame Duval, and Thomas were barricaded in the laundry and were all fine. Olrox grinned toothily at Vaublanc. “Well, that plan failed, then. But that’s not surprising, given that you were the one that made it.” Raising his voice, he called, “Edouard, Annette, I have a gift for you out back of the house.”
Mizrak was the first outside, carrying his bloody scimitar and frowning at the wound on Olrox’s cheek. Olrox reached up a hand and healed it, having forgotten about it in all the excitement, as Edouard and Annette slipped out next. Edouard was sporting a bloody gash on one arm, and Annette was insisting he let her stitch it; both carried bloody sabers. When they looked up, Edouard paled and took a step back.
Olrox approached and smoothed a hand over Edouard’s arm, healing him, as he murmured, “He can’t hurt you anymore. He won’t hurt anyone ever again. The two of you should decide how he dies.”
Edouard sagged into Olrox’s arms, tears seeping into his collar, and Olrox held him close as everyone else emerged from the house in twos and threes. Maria had a bird of some kind perched on her shoulder, and she was carrying the closed wicker basket. Olrox relaxed when he heard sleepy chirps from all five of his children.
Adrian stepped up beside him and asked, “Who’s this?” indicating the pinned vampire, who was still snarling but carefully not moving his neck or shoulders.
“Vaublanc. A member of Báthory’s court, though not a well-regarded one,” Olrox said coolly. “Edouard and Annette have the right to decide how he dies, but if you want to ask him for information first, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”
“You’re posing as a member of her court,” Adrian guessed. “What would he know that you don’t?”
“What happens when I’m not there, for one. Unlike the others, who all moved in, I try to spend as little time in that chateau as possible. So I definitely miss things,” Olrox responded calmly. Whether those things would contain vital information, he couldn’t be sure.
Annette began rubbing Edouard’s back, face worried. “What did he do to hurt you?” she murmured.
Vaublanc laughed. “Your friend there is a better bitch than you could ever be, girl!” he spat. “And he liked it! He—”
Mizrak strode over and shoved one of his gloves into the vampire’s mouth. “Maria, I think it’s time for you to go inside, now,” he said sternly. “You don’t need to see this.” When the girl opened her mouth to protest, Terra gently pulled her toward the house; Amelia and Madame Duval followed.
Once they were safely inside, Mizrak pulled the dagger from the sheath still strapped to Edouard’s thigh, then used it to slice open Vaublanc’s breeches. Setting the blade against the skin just about Vaublanc’s cock, he told the vampire, “You deserve so much worse than this. But it’ll be a good start.” Then he drove the blade down and slightly forward. The soft thumps of the vampire’s cock and balls hitting the ground were nearly drowned out by his frantic screams, even muffled as they were.
Wiping both the dagger and his scimitar clean on Vaublanc’s jacket, Mizrak returned the dagger to its sheath, then wrapped his arms around Edouard just above Olrox’s own.
Adrian asked, “Olrox, may we stay? I’d like to set ward runes before anything else happens.”
Olrox huffed. “Fine. But keep the brat away from me. And I don’t mean Maria—she seems delightful,” he clarified.
Adrian laughed. “Naturally—she thinks your children are adorable, which automatically puts her in your good graces. But I’ll keep Richter away from you as much as possible.” He began selecting pebbles nearby, onto which he would carve runes of protection and of barriers, that he could then surround the house and yard with.
Annette gently took the saber from Edouard’s loose grip and told him, “Vaublanc will die when the sun rises. That will give Alucard and I time to interrogate him. Is there anything you want done to him as punishment before he dies?”
Edouard shook his head. “Mizrak already dealt with it. I don’t want to be near him. Can we go back upstairs, please?” he begged Olrox.
“Of course. Mizrak, could you take Edouard and the children to our bedroom? I want to have a quick word with Madame Duval about our guests, then I’ll come up and join you,” he promised.
Edouard seemed reluctant to leave him, but he followed as Mizrak headed inside. Olrox told Annette, “I know you have your own history with Vaublanc. We’re not sure if he recognized Edouard before this or just associated him with you, but that vampire, among others, tortured and abused your brother. Vaublanc nearly killed him twice. I was able to get him out of there, but he still has a lot of healing to do, mentally and emotionally. I wanted to warn you, because I have no doubt Vaublanc will throw all of that in your face.”
“Thank you,” Annette murmured. “He told me he’s been safe the past few weeks, thanks to you. Tell him I’ll make sure Vaublanc goes nowhere tonight, and that he’ll die as soon as the sun rises.”
“I will.” Olrox returned inside, walking past Thomas, Bertrand, and the Belmont boy hauling night creature corpses outside to burn. He found Madame Duval inventorying the pantry. “They’ll be staying, though I’m not sure for how long,” he told her.
She spun around, hand to her chest. “Master Olrox, please don’t sneak up on me like that!” she scolded.
“I apologize. I thought you would hear my shoes as I came in.” He’d been sure to make as much noise as he usually did around members of his household, since they all hated being startled. Though there were several people in the house wearing shoes rather than boots, now: Alucard and Maria, and possibly Terra, though he couldn’t tell past her skirts.
Madame Duval waved off the apology, saying, “I must have been too focused on figuring out what to serve for so many people. You said they are staying, correct?”
“Yes. I imagine Terra, Maria, and Annette will be in one room, with Adrian and the Belmont brat in the other. Though they may choose different arrangements.” There was certainly mutual attraction between Annette and the Belmont. He would question her taste, but at least she had the good sense to recognize Edouard as a brother figure. And she had told Edouard the brat wasn’t always as immature as he had been today.
“Amelia and I will prepare the rooms shortly, then. And I’ll have to send Thomas out for supplies tomorrow,” she warned him.
“Take whatever money you need. I trust you.” He bade her goodnight and headed up the stairs.
Chapter Text
Edouard was curled in the middle of the bed facing the door, looking miserable despite Mizrak’s embrace. Olrox stripped down to braies and joined them, holding Edouard close as he shook. “Annette promised he’ll die when the sun rises, and she’ll make sure he doesn’t go anywhere before then. You’re safe from him,” he soothed.
“I hate him, more than any of the others. I hate that my body is different, and I hate that I won’t be able to handle some of what I used to enjoy,” Edouard whispered.
“Like what?” Mizrak asked.
Edouard sighed. “I had a lover in Saint-Domingue. I asked him to wait for me, and I shouldn’t have. Because … we were both betas, but one of his favorite things in bed was to pretend we were alpha and omega, and he’d pretend to pin me down and breed me. It wasn’t my favorite game, but I enjoyed it well enough. But now … just thinking about that makes me want to vomit!” he cried. “I can’t even remember his face without it turning into Vaublanc’s!”
His breath hitched, and he continued, “I was an idiot. I thought we’d come here, defeat Báthory, and return home without anything bad happening. I never could’ve imagined all this, but … I shouldn’t have asked him to wait. I should’ve realized something here would change me in ways either he or I might not be able to handle. And all I can do now is send a letter, saying I don’t plan on coming back and he should forget me.”
“You’re staying in France?” Olrox asked. He would love to have the younger man nearby, if Mizrak didn’t tire of him as he’d initially assumed. And even if he had to leave, knowing Mizrak and Edouard had each other to lean on would be a huge comfort.
Edouard hesitated for a long moment, then said, “I want to stay here. With both of you, if you’ll let me.” His words started falling out faster as his anxiety rose. “I understand I’ll need to take my own room at some point, to give you privacy. You’ve both been more than patient with me, but now the children are here, so you’ll want time to be together. But I can look after the children, or help around the house, or—” he babbled frantically, hiding his face in Olrox’s hair.
Olrox’s arms tightened instinctively, wanting to keep the singer as close as possible. Edouard’s words changed to sobs, and Olrox looked over the top of his head to meet Mizrak’s eyes. The knight’s expression was as pleading as he imagined his own must be.
“Olrox and I haven’t talked much about the future, after Báthory is gone,” Mizrak said carefully. “About what we might want—or who. But I’m sure we both want you to stay.” Edouard glanced over his shoulder at Mizrak, then pulled his head back to peer up at Olrox.
Olrox steeled his nerves. If ever there was a time to be vulnerable, it was now. “When I saw you embrace your sister earlier,” he admitted, “I was already dreading the day you would leave with her. The first night I brought you home, I didn’t think either of you would want me around for anything other than the protection from Báthory and the other vampires that I offered. I’m beginning to get the feeling that Mizrak might not tire of me as soon as we kill her—”
“Never!” Mizrak swore.
Olrox smiled at him, then continued, “I don’t want either of you to leave. As soon as Báthory’s dead, I won’t stop you if you want to go. But I’d prefer that you stay. Right here in our bed, as long as you want to be here.”
“You mean that?” Edouard whispered, looking back and forth between them. “You mean that you want me …?”
“Any way we can have you,” Mizrak agreed. “I’ve been dreading the day we would all go our separate ways, too. If I can keep even one of you, I’ll be content. But if I could keep both of you … I don’t have words for how happy I’d be.”
Edouard got up on his elbows. Before Olrox could worry, he pressed his lips to Olrox’s in a long kiss. Breaking away, he murmured, “I’m staying.” He then turned to kiss Mizrak, telling him, “Keep me.”
When they broke apart, Mizrak met Olrox’s eyes and murmured, “I’m staying, too.”
Olrox felt his heart would burst inside him. “Then you can keep both of us,” he replied, smiling.
They lay in bed, trading kisses between the three of them, for a long time. Their peace was broken by a shriek from outside. Edouard flinched hard. “Mizrak, would you mind looking out the window for a moment and confirming that everything is going to plan?” Olrox asked quietly, holding the singer close.
The knight willingly crawled out of bed, pulling the curtain aside to look down at the yard below. After a moment he huffed a laugh. “I don’t know where the metal came from, but Vaublanc’s trapped in a cage made of crucifixes—” He tensed, seeing something change below, then relaxed again and let the curtain fall back into place. “He changed into a bat, and I thought he would escape. But he all but bounced off the cage, and he’s still trapped in there.” He climbed back into bed and lay down close to Edouard, throwing an arm over his waist.
“Annette might’ve pulled the metal bars from a nearby fence,” Edouard murmured. “She’ll put them back later.” Still clinging to Olrox with one hand, he grabbed Mizrak’s hand with the other, clearly uneasy.
“Very clever,” Olrox commented. “I assume she moved him into the middle of the yard with the cage, rather than continuing to pin him against the wall?”
“Yes,” Mizrak confirmed. “He’s not close to any buildings or trees, so he’ll burn as soon as even a sliver of sun breaks over the horizon.”
“Good riddance,” Olrox murmured.
Shrieks continued to sound at irregular intervals in the yard below, and Edouard flinched at each one. Olrox and Mizrak continued to hold him close, but it didn’t seem to be helping. “How can we help you feel safe right now?” Olrox finally asked, desperate to soothe the singer.
“I don’t want to think about him,” Edouard murmured. “I want to forget he’s here.”
“How can we help with that?” Mizrak asked, running his fingers through Edouard’s hair.
After a long moment, Edouard asked, “Make me feel good? I only want to think about the two of you and what we’re doing.”
Mizrak glanced at Olrox, then said, “If you’re talking about sex, we all need to set some boundaries first.” At Edouard’s nod and questioning look, Mizrak offered, “I don’t want either of you to touch the omega parts, or I might panic. And I don’t want to be on my back with someone above me, or to be fucked from behind.”
“Oh. That sounds—I think those are the boundaries I want, too. And … no knotting, please.” He looked nervously at Olrox with that last.
“I won’t ever knot either of you unless you ask for it ahead of time. I don’t want to risk you panicking while knotted—it’s easier for everyone if I refrain, rather than trying to puncture my own knot at that angle,” Olrox assured Edouard.
“That’s what you did when … when he knotted my mouth, right?” Edouard asked.
“Yes. He was counting on my not being willing to break the taboo to save your life. More fool him,” Olrox said, curling his lip as another scream rang out from the yard. Sunrise—or rather, the moment after the sun burned Vaublanc away—would be a welcome respite.
Edouard shuddered and clung all the harder to Olrox. Mizrak continued running his fingers through the singer’s long hair in an attempt to soothe him. “We don’t have to do anything tonight, if you’re not comfortable. There’s no rush.”
“No, I … I want to … to feel good, knowing he’s down there. That he might even hear me enjoying this. And that I don’t have to be afraid of him, ever again,” Edouard murmured.
Olrox grinned. “You want to rub it in his face. Fair enough. What do you want to do, my little revolutionary?”
Edouard laughed shakily at that. “I like that a lot more than just being ‘a revolutionary,’ little or not. And … I don’t know. I think I want to be fucked, or at least fingered, but … I can’t think how we all fit so neither of us is on our back or being fucked from behind.”
“Well, one option is with me on my back,” Olrox purred. “One of you could ride me while the other fucks my mouth. You could both end up riding me, if the one fucking my mouth doesn’t come too fast.”
Edouard bit his bottom lip, flushing. “Or … while Mizrak rides you, you could eat me out? To get me ready to ride you? If you don’t mind doing that.”
Olrox nuzzled Edouard’s forehead. “I enjoy it immensely, so that sounds like a fantastic idea. Mizrak?”
“That sounds fine, but I’m a little confused,” Mizrak admitted. “I’ve only ever heard of people eating out women or omegas—can you do that without those parts, or did you change your mind on that boundary?”
“No! No, I don’t want those parts touched,” Edouard said with a shudder. “No, I—” He glanced at Olrox, unsure now what he’d agreed to.
“I’ll be licking his ass and seeing if my tongue can reach his prostate,” Olrox explained. “Which, if I shift my tongue, would be easy enough. Unless you prefer not to have a serpent’s tongue in you?” the vampire asked.
Edouard flushed. “That sounds fine. I’d really like to see your other form at some point, though.”
“I’ll see if I can arrange something soon. Mizrak, did that answer your question?” Olrox asked.
“Yes—and I’d like to try that at some point. From both sides, I think,” the knight murmured.
“Sounds good to me,” Olrox purred. “Anything else we need to cover?”
“Where did the piece of leather end up? I’d prefer if the whole house didn’t hear me,” Mizrak asked.
Olrox rolled away and pulled the scrap from the drawer of the nightstand. He then fetched the oil from the bathing room. Coming back into the bedroom, he passed Edouard heading the other way, who smiled at him despite the bright flush of his cheeks.
Olrox and Mizrak quickly stripped off their braies, and Mizrak crouched over the vampire’s middle as Olrox fingered him, leaning down to indulge in a slow kiss. When he felt the knight was ready, he withdrew his fingers, and Mizrak shuffled backwards. He sank down on Olrox’s cock with a sigh, then stuffed the leather strip in his mouth and winked at Edouard, who had come back into the bedroom fully naked.
Olrox beckoned to him, and the singer climbed to balance over him, facing Mizrak. As Olrox’s tongue first lapped at his hole, he moaned, one hand clutching at the hand Olrox had on his left hip, the other reaching for Mizrak. The knight pulled out the leather for a moment to kiss the singer as Mizrak began to bounce on the vampire’s cock, making Olrox moan into Edouard, whose breath hitched at the feeling.
Licking around the hole to relax the muscle, then beginning to push his tongue inside, Olrox could only taste soap and skin, indicating Edouard must have cleaned up. He drove his tongue deeper, and Edouard whined; Mizrak moaned around the leather in turn, picking up his pace.
When Olrox shifted his tongue, Edouard yelped in shock, then began desperately begging for more from the much longer appendage. Olrox happily obliged, lashing back and forth over Edouard’s prostate; Mizrak reveled in the returned strength of his thighs as he bounced faster, moans growing in volume despite the leather.
Mizrak shouted as he tightened around Olrox’s cock, and his seed splattered their stomachs. Olrox himself groaned when he felt Edouard lean down and begin licking it up, fighting not to come yet himself.
With a whine, Mizrak pulled off his cock and slumped down beside him, spitting out the leather and panting. Edouard began to babble, “I’m ready, please, I’m ready, just fuck me—”
Olrox withdrew his tongue, shifting it back as he did, and Edouard turned and backed down his torso toward his cock. Mizrak reached out and held it still, helping Edouard line it up. Olrox groaned as Edouard sank down, then lifted himself and dropped down again, crying out as Olrox’s cock drove past his prostate. Mizrak grabbed Edouard’s hips and helped to pull him higher off Olrox’s cock so that he could slam back down, keening. Olrox desperately held onto his control, refusing to let himself come until Edouard did.
Fortunately for him, the singer wailed a moment later, and Olrox moaned as his walls tightened around the vampire’s cock, finally allowing himself to come. Mizrak leaned down to kiss him, then pulled Edouard down to kiss him, too.
Edouard slumped down onto Olrox’s chest; after his cock slipped out, he slid down onto the bed between Olrox and Mizrak, and they all lay still, catching their breaths. Vaublanc’s muffled sounds sounded more outraged now, Olrox thought gleefully. Following his latest noises, Annette muttered, “Pipe down, you don’t get to talk yet.”
Adrian came around the side of the house, and a moment later Olrox felt the runes thrum with power, then fall dormant. “Who…?” the dhampir began.
“One was Edouard; I’ve heard it before, despite no sister wanting to hear that from her brother. I would assume the others were Olrox and Mizrak, though I don’t know which of them was trying to keep quiet.”
“Must’ve been Mizrak, because Olrox certainly wasn’t,” Adrian drawled. As Vaublanc began his muffled rant again, both Annette and Adrian told him, “Shut up!” “Give me a moment, and I’ll be ready to start asking questions,” Adrian told her.
“What?” Mizrak muttered sleepily, and Olrox realized he was grinning.
Olrox glanced down to see that Edouard was fast asleep, then told Mizrak, “We were overheard. And Vaublanc is very unhappy about it.” Mizrak flushed and buried his burning face in Olrox’s shoulder. Olrox ruffled his hair fondly, telling him, “They deduced you were the quietest, at least, because Annette recognized Edouard’s voice and Adrian recognized mine. I’m going to grab something to clean us up with.”
Mizrak huffed, still embarrassed, and wrapped himself around Edouard. Their tangled bodies made cleaning them up more difficult, but Olrox managed, then returned to bed, wrapping one arm around Edouard and the other over them both. He drifted off to the soothing sound of Vaublanc’s choked screams.
Chapter Text
Edouard finally got out of bed after three o’clock in the afternoon. He’d slept fitfully until Vaublanc was dead; after that, he’d rested better, though he still felt a little groggy.
Amelia was sitting at the table mending a hole in a pair of stockings; Edouard was grateful that one of the others had put a nightshirt on him before they left. “Good morning, Mister Edouard!” Amelia said cheerfully when he sat up. “Or afternoon, rather, but that just doesn’t sound right. Master Olrox and Mister Mizrak are downstairs planning some sort of attack, said they didn’t want you to wake up alone if they couldn’t be here. Do you want me to bring a meal up here, or do you want to eat downstairs?
“I’m not hungry just yet, so I’ll wait and eat when it’s time to prepare for court. Is everyone in the salon?” he asked, getting out of bed and gathering clothing to change into.
“Most of them, yes. Miss Terra is helping Madame Duval in the kitchen some, and Mister Thomas went out to get supplies a second time, since he couldn’t carry everything the first time and forgot to take a basket. I think he’s really checking those night creatures didn’t attack anybody else,” she told him conspiratorially. “Forgetting the basket is just an excuse, so nobody knows that. Silly, sweet man.”
Edouard chuckled and ducked into the bathing room to change. When he was ready, Amelia led the way downstairs, then she headed to the kitchen, and he slipped through the doors of the salon.
“If we were in Paris, we could encourage the revolutionaries there to fight, since she came to wipe them out,” Alucard was saying. “But if she isn’t inclined to move in that direction, I don’t think we can convince them to come here.”
He sat down beside Mizrak, who held the empty basket for the snakelets in his lap. He could see that Olrox, standing next to Alucard, had the orange-scaled youngest around his throat again. Maria had the red curled up in her lap, basking as she stroked him. The green and purple were coiled together on top of Mizrak’s head like a crown, while the blue was coiled around the knight’s wrist. Seeing him, the blue slithered up Mizrak’s arm to the elbow, then jumped across a small gap to Edouard’s elbow and slid down to his wrist.
“They can jump now?” he asked quietly, surprised.
Mizrak nodded. “Started when we got up. Olrox said they’re practicing. Soon they’ll start gliding, then flying, he said.”
“Keeping track of five flying snakelets will be interesting,” Edouard murmured. He hoped they were inclined to stay somewhat close to their parents and not disappear completely. “What have I missed?”
“Not much. Apparently, Richter’s magic reawakened during the fight at Terra’s house, so that might help with fighting Báthory. But the main issue right now is that we don’t have enough people to fight the lesser vampires so the most powerful among us can focus on Drolta and Báthory.”
“That’s a tricky one,” Edouard mused. The knights would want to fight, but without their gear or even their health, they wouldn’t be able to do much; even at their peak, there weren’t enough of them. What other groups of fighters were present in France, besides the revolutionaries, the knights, and the national guard that was being whittled down and made into night creatures?
Olrox was in favor of luring Báthory to Paris now, in the hopes the revolutionaries would fight. Alucard wanted to protect the national guard from further attacks and see if there were enough of them to help, with a little tactics training to make up for their low numbers. Richter seemed fond of the idea of sneaking up on Báthory during the day, if Annette could harness the third part of Sekhmet’s soul, whatever that meant. The sneaking seemed like a terrible idea to Edouard, even if the rest could potentially be useful.
When the debate reached an impasse, it was just past four o’clock. “Do you think we have time to practice before we go tonight? Assuming we can’t skip court again,” he added wryly.
Mizrak made a face. “Olrox said something about getting there a little early, so that Báthory still sees him as dedicated, if not a lapdog like Vaublanc wanted to be.”
Edouard sighed. “Probably not leaving terribly early either, then. Damn.”
“Thinking of, Olrox suggested you act a little skittish when vampires are moving around, like you’re looking for Vaublanc. Since we supposedly know nothing about where he is, and certainly not that his ashes are out behind the house,” Mizrak told him.
Edouard groaned softly. “Typical of Vaublanc, to be a nuisance even after he’s dead.” Annette, who was sipping from a cup of juice or something similarly dark, choked and snorted liquid out her nose. She glared at him when he grinned, then stuck out her tongue at him as she stole his handkerchief to wipe her face. He threw up his hand to lay the back of his wrist on his forehead, then dramatically swooned into Mizrak, careful to avoid jostling any of the children.
The green and purple, who he was beginning to think of as “the twins” since they seemed inseparable, poked their heads out of Mizrak’s short hair to peer curiously down at him. The blue wound his way up his arm to settle around his neck, then peered up at him. “Do you think they’re more concerned with my health or my sanity?” he joked, gently ruffling the feathers in the blue’s mantle.
The orange snakelet, perhaps afraid he was missing out on something interesting, flung himself off Olrox’s shoulder. He seemed to be gliding at least a little, Edouard noted absently as he lunged to catch the snakelet, who definitely wasn’t going to make it all the way to the couch.
Unfortunately, Mizrak and Olrox had also lunged. Olrox was fast enough to keep them from cracking their skulls together, but the three of them ended up in a heap on the floor, with the orange snakelet stretched across three different hands. The little fellow seemed perfectly happy with this situation and stayed right where he was; the twins, who had been jostled the most, hissed at him.
Edouard started laughing, and soon everyone else was laughing too. Olrox stood, still chuckling, and hauled both Edouard and Mizrak to their feet. “I hope none of them pull that stunt at court!” Olrox mused, shaking his head at his children’s antics. Maria stood and brought the red over before he could try any leaps of his own, offering him to Edouard.
Olrox glanced toward the curtained window, below which a sliver of sunlight lit the floor, and sighed, all the levity draining out of him. “We should probably get ready to go,” he murmured. He glanced in Alucard’s direction, then ushered Mizrak and Edouard out of the room.
As they ate and fed the children, Olrox mentioned, “We need to decide what to call the snakelets. They’ll be learning rapidly, and they need to know when we’re addressing one of them.”
“But we don’t know which are boys and which are girls,” Edouard pointed out.
“No, we don’t know their sex or gender yet,” agreed Olrox. “Which is why I’m suggesting we use nicknames. Color-coded ones may help us remember them, for the time being, until they develop more individual personalities.”
Mizrak hummed. “Any suggestions? All the color names I can think of off the top of my head are feminine: Ruby, Pearl, Opal …”
“Azure might work for the blue,” Olrox mused. “Sapphire sounds more feminine, otherwise that would be a closer match in hue.”
“Chili for the red? Since you smell like vanilla and chili peppers,” Mizrak suggested, smiling.
“Mango for the orange?” Edouard suggested. “They’re similarly colored. And the twins could be Mint and … Thistle, maybe?”
“Those all work for me,” Mizrak concluded, and Olrox nodded his agreement. “But … will we be using them in court? I’m not sure I want to share even their nicknames with her.”
“We can keep them private. And if someone overhears one, we can simply say we haven’t come up with nicknames for the others yet,” Olrox suggested. “I’d prefer if we didn’t have to bring the children to court at all, but unfortunately, that’s not an option.”
“The sooner we get rid of her, the better!” Edouard muttered. The other two murmured their agreement.
***
The ballroom was empty when they arrived. Olrox had them both fetch blankets to sit on and wrap up in while they sat at his feet, then they all settled in to wait. Mint and Thistle were settled in Edouard’s lap, twined around each other as always and napping. Chili was slithering over Mizrak’s shoulders, peering about and sniffing the air. Azure was wound around Olrox’s dangling earring, swaying as he looked around from his higher vantage point; Mango was wrapped around Olrox’s throat like a torque again, half hidden by the collar and resting his head on the cravat as he napped. The empty basket sat on the ground next to Mizrak, to use when the snakelets tired.
Edouard fluffed the mantles of the twins in his lap, to pull several feathers out from under them—not that it seemed to bother them. He was glad the youngest three were resting, but on the other hand, that might mean they would be more active later. He could only hope they’d be content to stay close, rather than going exploring.
The interior doors finally opened, admitting the court decked out in their silks and jewels. Báthory’s gaze sharpened when she saw Olrox, and she headed straight for the sitting area they were in, Drolta in her wake. “Olrox! We missed you at court last night,” she said pointedly. When Azure wriggled, setting Olrox’s earring in motion, her eyes widened.
“Unfortunately, I couldn’t make it last night. Labor started just before I planned to leave, and the last egg wasn’t laid until at least an hour after the sun rose. But the eggs are all hatched now, so nothing prevented my attendance tonight,” Olrox told her casually.
Drolta was counting. “One on your earring, one on your first slave’s shoulder, two in your younger slave’s lap—where is the fifth?”
Olrox raised his hand and stroked a finger over their youngest’s head, causing Mango to yawn widely, then lay his head back down behind the cravat, shifting its body lower to be even less conspicuous. Only part of the mantle showed now, and only if someone was looking for it. “All three of my youngest are sleeping,” he told her, indicating the twins. “No doubt they’ll be more awake as soon as the oldest two settle in to sleep.”
Báthory laughed. “Indeed! They’ll keep you on your toes, I imagine.”
“It’s fortunate I have two pets to help me care for my snakelets, otherwise I would be shorthanded, quite literally,” Olrox joked.
“You’re sure you can trust human slaves to care for them?” Drolta asked, eying Mizrak’s increased muscle mass, more obvious now that his belly was back to its normal firmness.
“Absolutely. The snakelets would be capable of surviving on their own at this point; there’s just no need for it. But they’re highly venomous, and they can quickly figure out who they can trust.” They hadn’t let Richter get anywhere near them, Edouard thought in amusement. Though he doubted the Belmont would actually hurt them, lest he face the wrath of Maria, who would surely take a chunk out of his hide before anyone else could.
Báthory reached out a finger to Azure, who swayed back and forth, sniffing. When she moved her finger closer, the snakelet hissed and pulled back to slide down onto Olrox’s shoulder, slithering under the fall of his hair until the tiny head poked out around the opposite side of Olrox’s neck. “Should I be offended?” Báthory asked, only half joking.
Olrox chuckled. “I should clarify that their instincts at this age are fairly simple. They can taste your power, but you don’t smell like family—like me, or like my pets, who both have my pheromones all over them. It will take a month or two before they begin to understand nuances.” Which Edouard knew was utter nonsense, since they’d been perfectly happy being held by Maria. Still, he wouldn’t want Báthory holding them, either, and Azure could presumably sense that she was dangerous to the snakelets in ways Maria wasn’t.
“So holding one is out of the question?” Drolta asked, frowning.
“I wouldn’t recommend it until they’re a little older. Not unless you’re willing to spend a great deal of time staying very close to me in order to pick up my pheromones, which I doubt either of us would enjoy,” Olrox mused.
Drolta snorted. “You’re not my type, so no. I suppose we’ll simply have to wait until they mature,” she said with a sigh. Edouard doubted she was nearly as disappointed as she sounded.
Báthory might be annoyed she couldn’t hold one, but she seemed to be controlling that, for the most part. “Send your pets away,” she ordered curtly. “We have important matters to discuss.”
Mizrak and Edouard both looked up at Olrox, and he cupped their chins, telling them, “Go sit with the other slaves. And keep a close eye on the children.”
They nodded and got to their feet, Mizrak grabbing the basket while Edouard cradled the twins, who were very disgruntled that their napping spot had changed position. They both settled their heads in the crook of his left elbow, wrapped around that arm, for the time being.
Halfway across the open space, Olrox let out a sharp “Mizrak!” Edouard and Mizrak both spun. Mizrak dropped to one knee and put out his hands in time to catch Azure, who had apparently decided to glide over to join his siblings. As Mizrak stood, Olrox nodded to him, then drawled, “I will be much happier when they learn to fly properly, rather than throwing themselves off high places and falling with style.” Drolta burst out laughing, and Báthory smiled, amused.
Edouard and Mizrak settled a short way away from the others, Azure safely wrapped around Mizrak’s neck while Chili sniffed at him. Eric was apparently elected to see what was happening, since he soon slid closer, stopping a foot away from Mizrak’s knee. “I see you’ve lost weight,” he commented.
Mizrak snorted. “More bulk than weight, but yes. Now I’m able to chase flying snakes.”
Eric eyed the snakelets. “So I see. Did I hear correctly that they’re venomous?”
Mizrak nodded. “I doubt they’ll bite, so long as you give them space.”
Pointing to where Chili had just launched himself toward the fire, causing the other knights to scramble out of the way, Eric commented, “That’s not as reassuring as you thought when you said that.”
Mizrak buried his face in his hands and groaned. Edouard could only laugh as Mint and Thistle poked their heads up out of his lap to see what was happening. “That’s … hard to plan around. Sorry!” Eric shook his head, bewildered, before crawling back to the others. “This might end up being a night where everyone is left alone,” Edouard murmured to Mizrak. “At least until the children are ready to sleep.”
A loud bang accompanied the doors to the rest of the chateau being thrown open, and Edouard didn’t have to pretend to flinch. Several lower-ranking vampires stalked into the room, heading straight for Báthory. They bowed deeply to her, and one of them whispered something in her ear. Edouard wished he could hear what they said. Likely all the vampires could hear, but they would pretend not to for the sake of politeness.
“He what?” spat Báthory. More whispering. She growled and waved a hand, dismissing them. “You weren’t the only one who missed court last night, Olrox. Vaublanc was gone, and he is still nowhere to be found. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” she asked dangerously.
“I haven’t seen him, if that’s what you mean, Countess,” Olrox said, frowning. “And I’m certainly not stupid enough to attack another member of your court, let alone kill them. But how did my name even come into this?”
“Three nights ago, my night creatures attacked a cottage known to be housing human rebels. The house burned to the ground, but the people inside escaped. One was from Saint-Domingue, someone Vaublanc recognized by her description, and he took more night creatures to track the girl and the other rebels. He insisted she had worked with your second slave in the past, during the revolution in Saint-Domingue, and if she heard where he was, she might head there. Have you seen a group of strange humans near your home?” Unspoken was Báthory’s displeasure that she still had no idea where exactly Olrox was residing.
Olrox smirked. “No, but I’m not surprised. I have doubts about Vaublanc’s ability to recognize anyone. He keeps insisting the younger of my pets is a fighter, surely only because he’s from Saint-Domingue. Everyone in this room has heard him sing: I assume we can all agree that is the voice of an operatic tenor? If he’s ever held a sword in his life, it would’ve been a blunt one for a staged fight scene. He’s simply not capable of anything else.” Edouard only hoped Báthory had no way of knowing that he’d been wearing a sword when he was captured.
Báthory hummed. “So, you think there were no rebels that escaped that night?” she asked silkily. She obviously had some information about the attack.
Olrox laughed. “On the contrary, I’m sure there were! I simply doubt that any of them had ever even been to Saint-Domingue. He probably heard something along the lines of ‘dark-skinned young woman’ and decided it must be the one who drove him out of his own plantation. I’m half surprised he hasn’t accused my older pet of being involved in the uprising: their skin tones aren’t so different,” he pointed out, gesturing toward him and Mizrak.
Edouard looked down at his lap to avoid their gazes. He had an excellent excuse, as the twins had decided to go explore, while Chili had abandoned his exploration of the hearth and was wrapping around his wrist.
Báthory hummed thoughtfully. “That doesn’t explain where Vaublanc is now,” she mused.
Olrox shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea where he is, and I’ll freely admit I hope that remains the case. He’s an idiot with no manners, and last I saw him, he was more concerned with revenge than with replacing my second pet, as you ordered him to do.”
“He’s still one of my followers, and I should like to know where he is,” she said curtly.
“Then I hope a new follower of better quality brings you word of his death. That should make us both happy,” Olrox said with a smirk.
Báthory laughed. “That would be an acceptable outcome, yes.”
Everyone returned to their own conversations, now that the tension had diffused. The twins had given up on the hearth being worth exploring, and they were currently eying the knights and Jacques, heads swinging as they sniffed the air. None of the other humans looked happy about that. When one drew his feet in closer, therefore farther away from the snakelets, they still took that as a potential threat and hissed—then immediately turned and headed for the safety of Edouard’s lap.
Almost as soon as they’d settled, Olrox told him //Mango incoming.// Presumably Mizrak heard as well, because they both turned at the same time. The youngest was already on the ground, so no need to catch him as he sped across the floor. About two-thirds of the way across the open space, he began to slow down, chirping his exhaustion and anxiety. Since Edouard had his lap full, Mizrak crawled toward the little orange snakelet, putting out his palm when he was close enough. Mango slowly coiled around his wrist and put his head down, clearly exhausted; Mizrak carefully scooted back towards the others, keeping that hand close to his chest.
“I think they’re all ready for a nap,” Mizrak told him. Azure was sliding down his arm, headed for Edouard’s lap; Mango wasn’t moving, but he was definitely looking in that direction. “Time for a lullaby?”
Edouard looked carefully around the room, pretending to be reflexively checking or Vaublanc or his fellows. No one was paying any attention to them, which soothed his entirely real nerves. “All right.” Setting the basket in front of him, he began to sing, softly at first, then daring to get a little louder than usual, his own personal insult to Vaublanc’s memory. The aria he chose was technically a call to arms, not a lullaby, but sung slowly and quietly, it passed for one.
The snakelets’ heads began weaving tiredly, and they yawned one by one. Already having learned that the basket wouldn’t shift under them as human limbs sometimes did, the four in Edouard’s lap flowed into the basket and tangled around each other. When Mizrak held his hand over the basket, Mango gave a sleepy chirp and simply dropped on top of his siblings, causing several disgruntled chirps and one sleepy hiss.
Edouard continued singing even after they’d all settled, reveling in the chance to finish a song uninterrupted in this of all places. As he let the last note fade, Mizrak closed the basket’s lid and secured it. The other humans’ sighs of relief made Edouard smile.
He looked around the room again and froze. There was a night creature on the balcony staring at him. It looked like a woman made of glass or ice. She held his gaze for several minutes, then turned away like nothing had happened. That was odd.
Soon Olrox came over and took them home, and they settled the basket on the hearth, leaving the lid slightly open in case anyone felt the need to leave the pseudo nest. Edouard fell asleep with his head on Olrox’s shoulder and one arm wrapped around him, with Mizrak mirroring his position on the vampire’s other side.
Chapter 21
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Adrian stood on a hill looking down into the national guard’s encampment. The rising moon created long shadows, so the eastern row of tents seemed to blot out any that didn’t spill lantern light. Only about half the tents did. He hoped the remaining guards had consolidated into those tents: otherwise, the numbers in this force might be well below half. With any luck, they wouldn’t fall any lower.
He descended the hill, eyes roving to find an officer among those on watch. There didn’t seem to be any, which violated every military protocol he’d ever heard of. Had this battalion lost them all?
He approached a sentry, who started trembling the moment he caught sight of Adrian. “I am the Alucard. I wish to speak with your senior commanding officer.”
“She’s dead,” the sentry croaked.
“Then whoever is in charge of this camp,” Adrian said patiently.
“Sergeants are all dead. I guess … Corporal Fontaine? If he’s awake …” The sentry’s fear was gone, replaced by resignation.
“If he’s not, then wake him up,” Adrian instructed.
“That’s the thing, sir. He hasn’t been awake in days. Surgeon said he might not wake,” the sentry mumbled.
“Who told you to guard the camp tonight?” Adrian tried, patience waning.
“My name’s on the roster for tonight,” he said simply.
“Who do you report problems to, then? For God’s sake, man, isn’t there anyone in charge of this camp?” Adrian cried.
The sentry shrugged. “Not really. The demons took the officers first. Nobody knows what to do, now. We’re all going to die here,” he concluded morosely.
Screams from the far side of the camp announced the arrival of enemies, presumably more night creatures. “Not if I can help it!” Adrian snarled, sword flying out of its sheath. Racing toward the panicked cries, he yelled, “Soldiers of France, form up! You’re going to send these creatures back to the Hell from whence they came!”
Most of the soldiers around him took heart, hearing someone take charge; a few continued to panic, fleeing from one night creature only to run straight into the claws of another.
The orderly lines some of the soldiers fell into caused the night creatures to fall back ten yards or so, considering. These weren’t mindless beasts, then. The machine that created them must be powerful indeed. “Swords and bayonets at the ready!” Adrian roared. “Give no quarter!”
As the night creatures charged, a woman’s voice shouted, “Halt!” The majority of the night creatures dug furrows into the ground with their claws as they abruptly stopped. The others continued their charge into the blades held by the confused soldiers. With Adrian’s help, they were quickly dispatched.
Adrian walked into the clear space between soldiers and night creatures. “One among you spoke, and the rest of you listened,” he called. “Let that one come forward, and we can discuss our futures here.”
A female figure with her arms crossed over her chest, seemingly made of ice or glass, floated forward to take a position opposite him. “I held command of this battalion, while I lived,” she told him. “I had forgotten, before tonight, but I remember it now.”
“Captain?” one of the soldiers called. “Is that really you?” Murmurs spread among the ranks, along with other calls for the captain.
“My memories are returning, though slowly. I was Captain here, yes,” she said sadly.
“What do you intend to do now?” Adrian asked pointedly. “Do you intend to kill your former soldiers, as you were no doubt commanded to do? Or will you fight back?”
Several spikes started to emerge from her body, but she stilled and seemingly forced them back in, since they shrank to nothing. “I will fight against the one in whose name all of us were killed,” she hissed. “Erzsebet Báthory has no claim to my loyalty!”
The soldiers cheered; the night creatures howled, which momentarily startled the soldiers into silence, before they cheered even louder. Adrian smiled at the captain. “As allies in the fight against Báthory, I would be delighted to discuss strategy and tactics with you. Together we may succeed.”
She gestured for him to follow her to the still-standing command tent and floated forward, past men who whooped and waved at her. A smile grew on her face as Adrian followed. Having a nearly-full battalion to fight alongside brightened their prospects considerably, and he looked forward to seeing Báthory’s face when she realized her army didn’t belong to her at all.
***
Mizrak sat on the floor in the lounge two hours after dawn, sharpening his swords and considering their circumstances. The night creatures and soldiers planned to attack the chateau soon. Báthory would presumably cause an eclipse, to prevent her courtiers from being forced out into the sun. After that, no one would have an advantage in light or dark.
During the past three nights at court, including the one that had ended just a few hours ago, Báthory hadn’t seemed to realize that anything was amiss, beyond Vaublanc’s continued absence. While it was possible she didn’t have anyone in charge of directing night creature attacks, it seemed more likely that they refused to report anything out of the ordinary, in fear for their own lives.
Terra had decided to stay and protect the servants and the children. For everyone else, training had picked up, and Mizrak had sparred against everyone with a bladed weapon several times. Annette had spent the night working to find a third part of Sekhmet’s soul in the spirit world, if Mizrak understood her correctly.
Olrox said he had moved all of the other knights’ gear to the chateau, placing it in a hole under a distinctive statue of a standing gargoyle just outside the doors. So long as the knights could make it downstairs and knock over the statue, they would have access to their weapons and gear. How well they would be able to wield them was a moot point, given the alternatives of the vampires keeping them as slaves or killing them.
Alucard had vetoed Olrox’s plan of transporting all of them to the chateau, claiming he didn’t want to exhaust the vampire’s magical reserves, which Mizrak and Edouard appreciated. Instead, Alucard hired a carriage and piled Annette, Richter, and Maria in the back. They would meditate or sleep, respectively, while he drove through the night and then scouted out the area before dawn.
The house felt ominously quiet as Mizrak waited, in full mail and fully armed, for Edouard and Olrox to be ready. He’d kissed the children goodbye the night before, just in case. Now he wanted a few moments alone with his lovers before they headed for the battlefield.
Olrox and Edouard descended the stairs together. Mizrak wished again that one or both of them wore armor, but there was nothing for it, now. He stepped forward and gave each of them a long kiss, which they returned passionately, then kissed each other.
“Be careful, both of you,” Olrox murmured, looking between them.
“You as well,” Mizrak and Edouard both replied.
As the light outside dimmed, the vampire asked, “Are we all ready?”
“As we’ll ever be!” Edouard told him, trying to look optimistic. Olrox wrapped his arms around both of them, heaved a sigh, and transported them.
The gardens around the chateau were in chaos when they arrived. Night creatures and vampires were fighting everywhere; the soldiers formed a barrier in front of a section of wall, past which Mizrak could see the knights pulling on mail that no longer fit properly, with their own loose clothing underneath it. If any of them survived, it would be a miracle.
Mizrak and Edouard charged the vampires harrying the soldiers, catching several of them by surprise. Olrox’s smoke form hovered nearby, directing phantom skulls to attack anyone who got too close to the pair.
At last, the knights joined the fray, fighting Báthory’s robed sycophants and silk-dressed courtiers alike. Every time one vampire fell, it seemed like two more surged into the opening. Maria’s creatures tore a path through the battlefield for her, and she joined the other humans, sporting scratches and with a fierce glare on her face.
At the far end of the gardens, Alucard and Richter exchanged blows with Drolta, while Annette, dressed in Egyptian garments and glowing, grappled hand-to-hand with Báthory. Both humans and the dhampir also had to fend off random attacks from any of Báthory’s followers who got close enough to take a swing at them.
Dead humans and night creatures soon carpeted the ground; not nearly enough vampires lay with them. Mizrak’s muscles ached as he fought doggedly on, Edouard at his side. He was beginning to think that, despite their best efforts, they were going to die here.
Olrox disappeared from above them; without his skulls guarding them, vampires surged forward, and Mizrak and Edouard fought back to back, surrounded on all sides. He couldn’t imagine where his vampire had gone, only hoping that he hadn’t been injured somehow. He refused to believe that Olrox would just abandon them. Whisk the pair of them away and leave the others to die, maybe, but he wouldn’t just turn tail and run alone.
Across the battlefield, he could see Annette struggling to keep up with Báthory. Alucard was bleeding from half a dozen wounds. And Richter, for all his fireballs and ice knives, was beginning to slow, panting heavily. Drolta barely even looked like she’d been fighting, grinning as she darted toward Richter, then switched targets to bowl Alucard over.
Suddenly, Olrox’s serpent form appeared in the sky above them with a roar. Báthory and Drolta snarled up at him, as did many of the other vampires. Richter yelled something hoarsely, probably an insult, as he swung at Drolta.
A purplish-white light began to gather in sparks around Olrox’s head, burning brighter until it formed a large ball of lightning. Five smaller sparks appeared, merging with the largest, and the ball exploded outward. Two hand-width bolts of lightning slammed into Báthory and Drolta, pinning them to the ground; threads of power flowed outward, striking other vampires.
The night creatures and humans surged forward, slashing at the vampires caught in the attack, felling many before they could recover. Not even half the vampires had been struck by the crackling power, but it was enough to give the humans and night creatures an edge, no longer quite so outnumbered.
Alucard’s sword drove into Drolta’s chest, and she howled—until Richter’s took her head clean off. Then they joined Annette in fighting Báthory, who was on her feet again. The so-called vampire Messiah looked much the worse for wear after the attack, but Annette—or whoever was using her body—didn’t look much better.
Olrox’s serpent form still hovered in the sky, even though his attack had ended. Mizrak saw tiny spots of orange and purple on his mantle; he cursed and started fighting his way forward, Edouard guarding his back.
Alucard’s sword finally pinned Báthory to the ground, he and Richter standing over her as Annette seized one of her hands. Flames grew around both of them, and both women screamed. Richter and Alucard were driven back, though Alucard’s sword remained in place.
At last, when Mizrak and Edouard were nearly to the clear ground around them, the fire died out, and Annette slid to her knees. Báthory’s snarl was cut off by Richter’s sword.
The other vampires began to run, fleeing both the night creatures chasing them and the emerging sun as the eclipse ended. Mizrak only had eyes for Olrox, whose snake form dissolved into smoke and slowly folded earthward, just under the edge of the trees. When his body emerged, he was kneeling, pale and worn ragged—and he cradled five limp snakelets in his arms.
Mizrak dropped to his knees in front of him, crying, “You brought our children into battle? What were you thinking?”
“That we were losing,” Olrox rasped. “And that if Báthory won, they’d never have a chance to grow up. They’re not hurt, just exhausted.” As was he, clearly.
Mizrak dropped his head to rest on Olrox’s collar bone, murmuring, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He stroked the tiny mantles of each snakelet, feeling their warmth and watching them twitch in their sleep.
“I hope I’ll never feel the need to,” Olrox told him quietly. Distinctly not apologizing. On the other hand, he did save all their lives with that incredibly risky action, so he wasn’t likely to ever apologize for that part of it.
Behind him, Edouard asked, “Annette? Or are you still Sekhmet?”
“I am Sekhmet, Daughter of the Sun, Mistress of Healing. And I want what is mine,” the figure intoned.
Olrox gently passed the children to Mizrak and stood. “And if I have no intention of surrendering it?” he asked tightly. Sekhmet bared her teeth at him, and he continued, “The healing ability I received is not something I’ll give up willingly. And being warm to the touch is an added benefit.”
At that, Sekhmet laughed. “If you choose to use your magic to keep your skin warm, who am I to judge? And you didn’t receive the healing ability from the portion of my soul—my power simply unlocked what you might have learned on your own in the next few hundred years.”
“So if I give your soul back, I won’t lose those?” Olrox demanded.
Sekhmet’s lips curled in a toothy grin. “When you give it back, you will simply lose the extra power you took. What you learned while you had it, and how you choose to expend your energy, will be unaffected. Now surrender it willingly, or I may rip out more than I gave, if I must take it by force.”
Olrox still hesitated. Mizrak rose, and he and Edouard stepped forward to flank Olrox. “Let it go, love,” Edouard murmured. “We wouldn’t stop loving you even if you did lose the healing ability.”
“And if you go cold, we’ll simply build the fire hotter,” Mizrak added. “We wouldn’t stop loving you for that, either.”
Olrox sighed and offered his hand reluctantly. The goddess occupying Annette’s body seized it, and a fiery glow surrounded them—but only for a moment. Olrox swayed, panting, and Edouard braced him.
The goddess smiled. “Much easier when you don’t fight it. Thank you,” she purred. Then she apparently abandoned Annette’s body, as the young woman crumpled to the ground, Richter lunging to catch her before her head hit anything. Lifting her in his arms, he glowered at Olrox, saying, “I will kill you. But not today.” When Mizrak and Edouard both took an angry step forward, he beat a hasty retreat.
Alucard approached, looking a bit bedraggled, but alert and eager, nonetheless. “I intend to stay here for a while longer, helping with cleanup,” he told them. “But there’s no reason the three of you can’t return home and get some rest.”
“I just need a few minutes—” Olrox began.
Alucard cut him off. “You’re done in, friend. Take the carriage, and bring Maria, Richter, and Annette back to the house with you. I’ll make my own way there later.”
“Will we all fit?” Edouard asked. “I don’t remember the carriage being large enough for six.”
“If two of you sit up front, you will. I’d suggest Maria and either Mizrak or Edouard up front,” Alucard told him.
“You think putting Olrox and Richter in a confined space like that is a good idea?” Mizrak interjected skeptically. “That seems like a recipe for disaster.”
Alucard sighed. “I expect Olrox will pass out soon—don’t deny it,” he told Olrox when he opened his mouth to protest. “At which point, you can remind Richter to keep his attention on Annette. When she wakes up, she’ll be able to rein him in.”
Olrox growled, then told the dhampir, “If you go to the abbey for any reason, don’t try to banish that machine yet. There are multiple souls involved in the bargain for it, and I intend to renegotiate. And it may have the ability to undo what was done to Mizrak, Edouard, and any of the others who survived.”
“Yes, please,” Mizrak breathed. On Olrox’s other side, Edouard nodded enthusiastically.
“Undo what was done to them?” Richter yelled, coming back over with Annette still in his arms and Maria now in tow. “What did you do to them? Did you turn them—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Richter!” Mizrak snapped. “Use your nose! Haven’t you noticed I smell like an omega now?”
Richter stared at him. “Yeah, but … that’s just because he’s an omega, and you spend a lot of time around him, right?” he said hesitantly, pointing to Edouard with his chin since his arms were full.
Edouard gave him a pitying look. “I suppose Annette never mentioned her brother? The beta singer?”
“Yeah, but—wait, that’s you? I thought she knew you from somewhere else—” Richter said, brows furrowed in confusion.
Olrox sighed tiredly. “Can we just go home now?” he muttered. “When Annette wakes up, maybe she’ll be able to explain it using smaller words and simpler concepts.”
“Hey! Are you calling me stupid or something?” Richter snarled.
“Given that you think I turned these two men into vampires, and yet you’ve seen them walking around in full sunlight several times over the past few days …” Olrox drawled.
Richter opened his mouth to protest, and Maria slapped her hand over it. “You walked right into that one, Richter,” she told him seriously. “Let’s get back to the house. I want to let Mum know we’re okay. Are the babies okay?” she asked worriedly, eying them in Mizrak’s arms.
“They’re just worn out,” Olrox told her gently.
When the vampire swayed on his feet, Edouard slung Olrox’s arm over his shoulder to keep him upright. “As are you. Where is the carriage?”
Alucard gestured toward the chateau’s main entrance, where a carriage waited innocuously in the sunshine. Two horses cropped grass nearby, no longer hooked up.
Mizrak groaned. “I hope they’re well behaved. I don’t have the energy to chase them if they start trotting off.”
“I can help!” Maria offered. “And I can hold some of the babies! Or I have pockets they could sleep in, if we both need our hands free!”
She skipped in Mizrak’s wake as he trudged forward. Behind him, he heard Richter say, “Let’s go get in the carriage, then. You first, vampire!” Then he yelped as someone hit him—Mizrak would guess Alucard.
After the snakelets were deposited in Maria’s voluminous pockets and the horses hooked up, Mizrak drove the carriage over the uneven ground and stopped in the shade of the trees. Edouard was glaring at Richter, who was carefully not meeting his eyes; Olrox had his head resting on Edouard’s shoulder, eyes barely open.
Edouard told Mizrak, “I’ll sit up front with Maria and drive. Otherwise, I may try to beat some sense into Richter, which might disturb Olrox and Annette both.”
Mizrak nodded and hopped down, opening the carriage door and helping Olrox onto the rear-facing bench. Richter carried Annette in and settled her leaning against the wall on the opposite bench, then plopped down beside her, glaring at Olrox, who ignored him.
The carriage lurched forward, and Mizrak pulled Olrox into his lap, then turned to put one leg up on the seat, letting Olrox recline while he braced them from sliding backward with the other foot. Richter, one arm around Annette’s waist, continued to glare as Olrox’s eyes slid closed.
“How can you stand being that close to a murderer, Mizrak? He’s committed one of the greatest sins the church preaches against, and that’s all right with you?” Richter growled. “What about your vows?”
Mizrak sighed. “We’ve all killed, Richter. And not always in battle—do you blame Annette for how she dealt with Vaublanc?”
“No, but that’s different!” Richter sputtered.
“How?” Mizrak probed. “Because he has fangs? When she was hosting Sekhmet, so did Annette.”
“It’s not because he has fangs, it’s what he does with them that matters!” Richter snarled. Annette groaned and batted at him, and he quieted. “It’s still breaking your vows, to consort with him.”
Mizrak laughed bitterly. “Those vows are pretty clear that our souls are dedicated to God. But Emmanuel sold them to a demon for his machine. Even if the renegotiation frees us, the vows are meaningless to me now. And I’d rather spend the rest of my life loving Olrox then holed up in a church trying to repent for things I didn’t do.”
Richter let the conversation lapse for a few minutes before muttering, “I still can’t believe you let a giant snake fuck you to carry more little snakes. That’s just—”
Mizrak rolled his eyes. “Given that the giant snake and the little snakes just saved all our lives, you can shut up any time, Richter.”
Olrox opened his eyes and murmured to Mizrak, “I’m glad our children could help. And I’m especially glad you weren’t fighting while still pregnant. I don’t know that I would’ve handled that very well.” Olrox closed his eyes again, too tired to stay awake—but clearly too wary to sleep deeply.
“That’s so fucking weird …” Richter muttered. “Seriously, why would you let him do that? And then defend him rather than finally getting away from him?”
Mizrak groaned. “Richter, I don’t care if you think it’s weird, or disgusting, or whatever else. Olrox was a beacon of warmth and caring in a horrible situation. Edouard and I fell in love with him, as he fell in love with us. So just drop it, all right?”
“But why the eggs? I just don’t—” Richter began.
Mizrak snapped, “When you get forcibly turned into an omega, raped repeatedly, and then given to a stranger who was instructed to breed you, you can tell me how you’d do things differently. When the only things protecting you from a horde of vampires are an ability to get pregnant and a single vampire who’s unwilling to traumatize you further, finding a way around using parts you never wanted and cause panic attacks with just a touch—when you’re in that situation, come find me, and we’ll talk. Otherwise, for the love of God, Richter, grow up!”
The carriage was quiet for at least ten minutes, the silence only broken by the sound of breathing from inside and the sounds of the wagon and horses from outside. Finally Richter murmured, “I’m sorry. I still hate him for killing my mother, and I’ll never trust him. But I’ll try to keep it to myself, at least. And I’ll try to keep in mind that you and Edouard had very different experiences around him. I just … are you sure he’s what you want?”
“Yes,” Mizrak said curtly.
Richter blew out a breath. “All right. I trust your judgment on most subjects, so I’ll try to trust you on this, too. Just … please don’t ever give me a reason to say, ‘I told you so.’”
Mizrak snorted. “I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. Talk to Alucard sometime, it sounds like he’s known Olrox for years.”
“I’ll do that,” Richter promised.
The silence resumed, and Mizrak simply enjoyed holding Olrox close. So frequently, it was Olrox helping him, so a chance to help him in turn was worth savoring. Having Edouard here would make it even better, but that would happen when they reached home.
Notes:
Ah, Richter: pure of heart, hot of bod, dumb of ass. Makes the others so much more attractive, when they have fewer moments of dumbassery to distract from it. (Looking at you, Mizrak dear: it does not, in fact, make sense to charge a vampire with only a sword when Richter’s fire attack didn’t even ruffle her hair.)
Chapter Text
They reached home around noon. Maria scampered inside, snakelets still in her pockets, calling for her mother. Mizrak told Richter to get Annette inside and leave the door open. Then he turned to Olrox. “How do you want to do this?” he asked the exhausted vampire. “I know you can travel as smoke even in sunlight. Do you have the energy to make it from here to the house like that, or should we come up with something to cover you with, to carry you inside?”
“I don’t know,” Olrox told him quietly as Edouard appeared by the door. “I probably shouldn’t risk traveling by smoke now, because if I lose control and change back, that wouldn’t end well. If I could walk, it wouldn’t take anything very large to cover me. But if you have to carry me … I can’t think of anything right now. Cloth wouldn’t be enough, but anything heavier would need two people, and I can’t …” Olrox closed his eyes, groaning. “My thoughts are slow. I can’t think …”
“I have a suggestion,” Terra said from the door to the house, stepping into the sunshine. She spun ice into a thick disc above her head, then moved it to hover over the door to the carriage. “Put a hand out and see if this will block the light.”
Olrox eyed the ice warily but lifted his hand and held it outside the carriage. Nothing happened. “It blocks the light well enough,” he concluded. “If you’re willing to maintain it. The last time I saw someone take shelter under something like that … let’s just say I was on the other side of it.”
“You mean you smashed your tail against it until it shattered, then stabbed my mother through the heart,” Richter growled from the doorway.
Terra looked back and forth between Richter and Olrox, then told both of them, “Circumstances have changed in recent months. I’m willing to hold it, but if you’d prefer to find something else, I won’t feel insulted.”
“Thank you,” Olrox murmured. Richter rolled his eyes and returned inside.
Mizrak lifted the vampire, and Edouard walked quickly beside them as he hurried toward the house, Terra holding the ice shield over them until they’d passed the threshold. Only once they were safely inside did she allow it to melt and splash down onto the stoop. “Thank you, Terra,” Mizrak told her, cradling Olrox close.
“My pleasure,” she murmured, then headed for the kitchen, where Maria could be heard describing the battle to the spellbound staff.
Edouard chuckled. “I’m going to see if she intends to give the children back now, or if she’d rather spoil them rotten while we get some rest. Are we sure she was in the same battle as the rest of us? She’s got enough energy to fight a few more.”
“The benefits of youth,” Olrox mumbled.
“She’s not that much younger than me,” Edouard pointed out, then walked through the kitchen door as Mizrak carried Olrox up the stairs. Setting the vampire down on the foot of the bed, he stripped them both and gratefully lay down with his lover.
Olrox sighed, but his muscles didn’t relax as much as Mizrak might have hoped. “You’re fretting about something,” the knight concluded. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry I scared you,” Olrox murmured. “But … given the circumstances, I’d do it again. I’m not going to risk losing you when I can see a way to avoid that. But it does mean I’ll never be a nurturing lover or parent. I’m possessive, and I’m coldly logical. If you don’t want that—”
“Bullshit,” Edouard told him from the doorway. Since the snakelets were nowhere in sight, Mizrak assumed Maria planned to spoil them with food and attention for at least the next few hours. And they deserved every bit of it. “You’re protective, not possessive. Otherwise, you wouldn’t keep offering us chances to leave—chances we don’t want or need.”
“You are nurturing us and the children, Olrox,” Mizrak added as Edouard stripped and climbed into bed, lying down draped over Olrox’s left side. “You offered Edouard and I choices every chance you got, showered us with new possessions and returning our own. And you dote on the children, especially Mango, giving him extra attention to catch up with the others.”
“What’s this really about, love?” Edouard asked.
Olrox hesitated, then whispered, “You were angry, Mizrak. And I … I can’t regret what I did.”
“Nor should you,” Mizrak murmured. “Honestly? I was afraid, for you and for our children. And sometimes I express that as anger, especially when I’m feeling helpless.” At Olrox’s bewildered look, he continued, “Remember the first time we fucked? Before the panic attack? I was on my back and dreading that part of it, and you said a different position would be better. Remember how I snapped that I’d find someone else to fuck me if you wouldn’t take me on my back?”
Olrox nodded. “You were snarling. But you couldn’t finish the sentence.” His brow furrowed, either from confusion or remembered dismay at that exchange.
“I was terrified, and I acted like I was angry. Because being angry is easier than being afraid and not having any way to resolve things,” Mizrak told him.
“I knew you were afraid, then,” Olrox confirmed. “But you didn’t seem afraid earlier. Just angry.”
“Oh, trust me, I was scared out of my mind when I saw Mango and Thistle on your mantle. And when you shifted and none of them were moving—” Mizrak shook his head, unable to voice how afraid he’d been.
“The relief I felt when you said they were just exhausted was dizzying,” Edouard told the vampire quietly. “Before that … I was afraid that I would only be able to sing them on to their final rest. That none of us would have a chance to see them grow, to see their dhampiric forms—to give them proper names.” He wiped tears from his eyes; Mizrak’s throat was tight with misery at the thought of that possible future.
“I never would’ve let them pour too much of themselves into the lightning,” Olrox told them, his own eyes wet. “I never would’ve let them get hurt like that, let alone die.”
“We didn’t even know you could create lightning,” Mizrak reminded him. “I didn’t know if that was a common attack, or if that was a way to ensure a pyrrhic victory rather than accepting defeat.”
“It’s common,” Olrox assured him. “I needed their help so that I could target Báthory and Drolta both, not attack one and immediately be killed by the other. I’m a coward sometimes, refusing to fight if I don’t know I can win. But I swear to you both, I made sure they weren’t hurting themselves. I would drain my own lifeforce for power before I ever risked them tapping theirs.”
Edouard shuddered, and Mizrak buried his face in Olrox’s neck. “Please don’t say that,” he whispered. “I want all of us to come home in one piece, no matter what happens in the future.”
“It’s not likely to come up again,” Olrox soothed. “I’ve never needed that much lightning before today, so odds are, it will be centuries before that need reappears. And in just a decade, our children will be fully grown and able to channel plenty of lightning alone, so combining it would be easy for them. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
“Good,” Edouard murmured. “New ground rule for all of us, including the children: no dying allowed.”
Mizrak and Olrox both laughed weakly. “Duly noted,” the vampire replied, then yawned.
“Time for a nap,” Mizrak mumbled. “And this time, since we shouldn’t have anywhere we need to be, nobody gets out of bed until everyone’s awake.”
“Yes, my liege,” Olrox whispered, hugging Mizrak tighter. From Edouard’s hum, he must’ve pulled the singer closer, too. Good.
***
The following morning, Mizrak woke to chirping from the hearth. As soon as he twitched from where he lay on his left side next to Olrox, five small bodies settled along his raised right side. They’d learned to fly properly, then. Mango settled on his head and chirped directly into his ear. “All right, all right,” he whispered, moving to get up. Olrox grumbled and rolled closer to Edouard; fortunately, neither of them woke.
Getting dressed around five nosy children was an experience. Mizrak proceeded downstairs with Mango curled around his throat and chirping in his ear; the other four seemed to swim through the air behind him like a colorful banner. Madame Duval and Terra were both awake and cooking; Maria was also awake, for a given value of the word, sitting at the table staring into space. Dawn light streamed in through the open window.
“Good morning, Mizrak, children!” Terra said quietly. “Ready for breakfast?”
Mizrak yawned. “They certainly are. I’m not sure I am. I just woke up and moved first, which makes it my turn to help growing snakelets acquire food.”
“Master Olrox and Mister Edouard are still asleep, then?” asked Madame Duval. “That’s good. All of you looked beyond exhausted at dinner last night, despite all the naps.” Even Maria’s energy had faded by evening, Mizrak remembered with amusement. “You could probably use some more sleep, Mister Mizrak.” No matter how many times he asked, she couldn’t seem to drop the honorific and just call him by his name.
“As soon as no one’s chirping in my ear, I might very well go back up and get some more,” he admitted ruefully. Terra presented him with a bowl of meat scraps, and the children dove headfirst into it, hissing at each other if two happened to grab the same piece. “Stop that,” he scolded gently, offering pieces to Thistle and Azure so they would drop the contested pieces Mint and Chili had claimed. “You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in days rather than hours. There’s plenty, so don’t fight over it.”
“Maybe they’re just extra hungry after yesterday?” Maria asked, perking up and grabbing pieces out of the bowl to offer Mango and Mint once they’d swallowed their previous pieces. “I mean, maybe lunch and dinner weren’t enough, given how much energy they used.”
“Maybe so. I’d prefer they act like siblings rather than adversaries when eating, though. And after all this, once they’re in dhampir form, I wonder how difficult it will be for them to learn table manners,” Mizrak said, watching as Mango flopped down in the middle of the bowl to have easiest access to the food, thus making his disgruntled siblings eat around him. “Spoiled little fellow, aren’t you, Mango?” Mizrak teased, fishing the snakelet back out. Maria offered him a piece of meat, and he settled down again, accepting his fate to be waited on rather than annoying his siblings.
When Mizrak yawned again, Maria asked, “Can I watch them for the morning? While you and Olrox and Edouard sleep, I mean? Then they won’t need to wake any of you if they need something—”
“If you’d like. Thank you,” Mizrak told her, trying to hold back another yawn.
“My pleasure!” she told him, grinning.
Mizrak stroked five small backs, then headed upstairs and crawled back into bed with his lovers.
**
Mizrak woke the second time that morning to the sight of Edouard lying on top of Olrox while the two kissed languidly. The knight reached down to palm his cock, enjoying the view.
When they paused for breath, Olrox asked, “Where are the children? I assume they woke you earlier, since neither of us were disturbed, and we’re not currently being swarmed.”
“Maria volunteered to watch them. They swarmed me as soon as I moved and then ate like they were starving,” Mizrak explained.
Olrox hummed. “Channeling lightning is hard work at their age, so I’m not surprised. Perhaps we should keep jerky in the room for the next few days, to prevent that level of desperation.”
“That might be a good idea. And we might want more than one bowl, since they were fighting over pieces this morning. It seems a waste to have multiple bowls at every meal, but that much jerky seems reasonable to divide into smaller bowls rather than one big one,” Mizrak suggested.
“Did Maria put a time limit on how long she would watch them?” Edouard asked. “I don’t remember if she mentioned plans recently, and I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“She said for the morning while we sleep, nothing definitive. Why?” Mizrak replied.
Glancing at the clock, Edouard grinned. “It’s only a few minutes to eleven. That gives us plenty of time to enjoy ourselves without interruptions. And I know exactly what I want.”
“Oh? Do tell,” Olrox purred, and Mizrak leaned in closer.
“You’ve been paying a lot of attention to both of us,” Edouard told Olrox. “I want to spend some time focused on you.”
“I enjoy making both of you feel good—” Olrox protested, but Edouard gave him a brief kiss to quiet him.
“We’ll have plenty of time for that as well. But there are some questions I’d like answered. For example,” Edouard murmured, reaching up to trace a finger along the edge of Olrox’s ear, causing his breath to hitch. “Are these sensitive? Would you enjoy it if I kissed and nipped along your neck? Do you like having your nipples sucked or pinched, or does that not do anything for you?”
“I want to try sucking your cock,” Mizrak added, liking Edouard’s idea of paying more attention to their vampire. “And I’d like to know more about your neck, too. All of it, really.”
Olrox shivered, then relaxed into the mattress under him. “Should I answer any of those questions, or would you prefer to test it for yourselves?”
“Definitely the latter. Just stop us if there’s something you don’t like,” Edouard declared firmly.
Olrox nodded as he reached up and removed his earrings, dropping them carelessly on the side table. “I will.”
Edouard slid off of Olrox, and Mizrak told the singer, “I’ll follow your lead.”
Edouard grinned. “I plan to start at the top and work my way down.” He lay down alongside Olrox, slightly further up the bed than normal, and Mizrak copied him.
Olrox shivered as they each took the tip of the closest ear into their mouths and gently sucked; he gasped and began to pant when Mizrak gently scraped his teeth against it. Sucking bruises into his neck made him moan, as did nibbling the skin there. When Edouard raised a hand, Mizrak copied him, and they both began to stroke and pinch Olrox’s nipples, which made the vampire hum with a more relaxed pleasure. When Mizrak moved his mouth down and nipped one, Olrox jolted in surprise, but before Mizrak could pull back, the vampire cupped the back of his head to hold him close. “Good, just surprised me,” he rasped.
Edouard reached a hand down and wrapped it around Olrox’s straining cock. “If you want to try sucking him, now’s your chance,” the singer told Mizrak, and the knight slid further down the bed, wedging his wide shoulders between Olrox’s thighs.
“Don’t try to take it all this time,” Olrox instructed. “There’s plenty of time to work up to that. And I don’t enjoy the sound of a lover choking on my cock.” Edouard beamed at him, kissing him soundly, as Mizrak took the head of the vampire’s cock into his mouth and sucked gently.
Olrox’s moans increased when Edouard began sucking on his neck and pinching his nipples while Mizrak slid more of his cock into his mouth. When he whimpered, Edouard pulled back to ask, “Should we keep going until you come? Or do you have a different preference?”
“I want what we did last time,” Olrox panted. “Open you both up on my tongue, then have you ride me one after the other.”
“What’s your stamina like?” Edouard wondered. “If you come now, could you come again before we finish?”
“Yes,” Olrox moaned as Mizrak teased his balls in one hand.
“Then I’m going to clean up while Mizrak makes you come. You can open me up while Mizrak cleans up, then I’ll ride you while you lick him. Agreed?” Edouard asked.
“Yes,” Olrox hissed. Edouard gave him a quick kiss and then hopped off the bed. Mizrak sucked a little harder, and Olrox moaned again, moving his palm down to gently cup the back of the knight’s head, not directing his movements but simply wanting to touch.
When Mizrak sucked him in as deep as he could manage without choking, Olrox murmured, “I’m close. If you don’t want to swallow—” Mizrak hummed around his mouthful, and Olrox cursed and came.
Edouard emerged from the bathing room as Mizrak pulled back, the last spurt landing in his beard. The singer pulled him up, swiped at Olrox’s seed with his tongue, then kissed him. “Your turn,” he murmured.
Mizrak cleaned himself thoroughly and emerged in time to see Edouard crouched over Olrox, back bowed and head thrown back, keening as Olrox ate him out. The vampire’s cock was fully hard again. “Fuck, Olrox, I’m ready!” Edouard panted, then whined as his tongue pulled out. The singer slipped further down the bed and impaled himself as Mizrak moved forward.
“Serpent tongue all right or this form only?” Olrox rasped.
“I want to try both,” Mizrak told him, and the vampire nodded, groaning as Edouard began to bounce. Olrox guided him to crouch over his face, and Mizrak gasped as a hot, wet tongue bathed his entrance. As it began to worm its way in, it grew thicker, like two fingers but hotter and wetter as it danced over his prostate. He absently noted he was getting loud, having forgotten the piece of leather, but when Olrox groaned, he yelped and forgot all about it. “I’m not going to last,” he whined, then shouted and came as Olrox’s tongue lashed faster.
Slumping over Olrox’s chest, he whimpered as the vampire withdrew his tongue. Looking up at Edouard, he raised himself on his elbows and sucked the head of the singer’s cock into his mouth. Edouard howled as he came, and Olrox groaned in turn.
Edouard helped Mizrak turn and crawl back up the bed, chuckling as he slumped down half on top of Olrox. “That good?” he asked. Mizrak nodded, as did Olrox. “Good. I’ll be right back.”
Mizrak was barely awake when Edouard returned with a damp cloth to clean him and Olrox. His eyes slid shut as the cloth landed on the bathing room tile with a wet thwap, and Edouard murmured, “Think we have time for another nap? Or should one of us go down and relieve Maria?” He dozed off before he heard Olrox’s answer.
Chapter Text
The last three days had been good ones, Olrox mused as he watched the activity in the back garden from the bedroom window. Mizrak had gone for a walk with the two oldest children; Edouard and Maria had the three youngest outside. They swam through the air and pounced on anything that moved in the grass, whether it was an insect, a blossom fallen from one of the pear trees, or a piece of trash carried from up the street. They would then carry the object back over to the humans in search of praise, like kittens seeking affirmation from more experienced hunters. Both Edouard and Maria offered lavish praise for even the simplest catch.
Both of his lovers were more relaxed now, since Adrian had studied the machine and reconfigured it to change them back to betas. If Olrox never had to hear them scream like that again, it would be too soon. But they’d both emerged from the machine with grins on their faces, and he’d quickly soothed their sore muscles. Healing was more difficult now, but Adrian insisted it would get easier as he gave his magical reserves a chance to replenish. Olrox certainly hoped so.
They still needed to discover which demon Emmanuel had bargained with for the machine, in order to renegotiate terms and then banish the thing. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell them—his heart had given out sometime between the final battle and when Adrian found the machine the next day. But at least no more night creatures were being created.
He could hear Adrian in his room, muttering as he perused the book for any more useful information. Annette and the Belmont boy were sparring in the lounge. Terra and Madame Duval had become close, and they were currently arguing good-naturedly about the ratio of spices in whatever dish they were making. Amelia, Bertrand, and Thomas were hard at work in various rooms, Amelia whistling and Thomas grumbling about something. It was soothing to listen to the sounds of a peaceful household, especially after everything with Báthory. He—
Piercing shrieks from two small throats raised the hair on the back of his neck. The three snakelets in the garden hung frozen in the air, listening. None of them had made the sound, so it must’ve been the older children out with Mizrak! Where?
He dashed down the stairs and threw open the front door, hissing in frustration at the sunlight blocking his path. Further cries directed his attention north, and he let his form dissolve into smoke, flowing hurriedly out the door and up the street.
Mizrak lay on his front on the cobbles, head turned to the left. His visible eye was wide as he gasped painfully for air around the dagger buried in his unarmored back. Chili writhed in the air above him, hissing and shrieking to warn away threats to his parent, but he allowed Olrox to gather Mizrak up in his smoke and race back to the house.
Depositing the knight carefully on his side, on the floor just inside the door, Olrox retook his own shape and poured healing magic into him with one hand while pulling the dagger out with the other. Mizrak wheezed, and Olrox ground his teeth, forcing muscle and flesh to knit. He was tiring rapidly, but he would not lose Mizrak!
As the edges of his vision dimmed, the wound finally closed, and Mizrak’s breathing eased. The vampire collapsed onto the tile, landing on his side in the blood pooling on the floor, panting hard as he stared at the hole in the back of Mizrak’s shirt. He could hear Edouard shouting worriedly, but he didn’t have the energy to focus …
A pale wrist thrust into his line of sight, and he heard Adrian’s voice. He could guess what the dhampir wanted him to do. Sinking his fangs in, he gulped several mouthfuls of hot blood, then pulled away. An attempt to heal the wound failed completely.
“Olrox? Can you hear me? Did you drink enough?” Adrian asked quietly.
Olrox opened his eyes—he hadn’t realized he’d closed them—and turned his head. Edouard was now cradling Mizrak, with Chili on his shoulder peering down at the knight; both of his lovers were staring worriedly at him. Edouard offered a small smile on meeting his gaze. “Who attacked Mizrak?” the vampire croaked. “And where is Azure?” He’d been so frantic on seeing Mizrak’s injury that he hadn’t even noticed his oldest wasn’t present until now!
“He’s here,” Annette told him, coming in from outside with Azure resting on her palms. The snakelet glided down to sniff Olrox, then swam over to Mizrak, examining his wound. The knight fluffed the snakelet’s mantle, and he chirped at his parent.
“I don’t know exactly who attacked Mizrak, other than it was a vampire hiding in an upper story room with a window, halfway up the street,” Annette continued. “The location is a bit of a guess, really, based on where the clothes and ash landed.”
“Either the vampire was suicidal, or Azure here managed to drive him out the window, I’d guess,” Richter commented. “I’ve no idea how, given he’s so tiny, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Probably bit whoever it was,” Olrox rasped. “The venom won’t outright kill a vampire, but it hurts badly enough that the victim will retreat, even to the point of forgetting there’s an open window to fall out of.”
“Well, whoever it was, they won’t be bothering us anymore,” Annette concluded. “But there may be others who know where we all are. If they can’t get past the wards, they may try again.”
“The wards will stand up to some battering, but if enough of them attack at once, they’ll fail,” Adrian warned. “But that’s something to discuss later this evening, since I doubt anyone further will attack tonight. You, Olrox, need to feed.” The sun had sunk behind the trees and buildings, leaving plenty of shadows to hunt in.
Olrox couldn’t help the way his eyes moved to Mizrak and Edouard, afraid he’d see fear or disgust on their faces. But they still only looked concerned. Mizrak nodded when he caught his eye. What on earth did that mean?
“Come on, up you get,” Adrian said, hauling Olrox to his feet, ignoring the blood drying all over him. “I’ll help you find someone,” he continued as he all but dragged Olrox out the door, the vampire stumbling more than walking. “A healthy adult or two—”
“No!” Olrox protested, dragging his feet.
Adrian turned to stare at him. “What do you mean, no?” he asked quietly.
“Not just a healthy adult,” Olrox panted, vision swimming. “Someone bad. Causing pain. Or someone dying, to end pain.” When Adrian didn’t move or speak, he told the dhampir, “Don’t want to be a monster.”
“You’re not a monster, Olrox. You’re a good man,” Adrian murmured.
Olrox snorted, doubtful. “Asshole nobles taste best, anyway.”
Adrian laughed. “Let’s see if we can find one, then.”
***
They didn’t find any nobles, but a man beating his child made a perfectly acceptable meal. As they walked home through the lengthening shadows, Olrox admitted, “I wasn’t sure I would be able to save Mizrak. I know I had to give up Sekhmet’s power, but I didn’t expect to be left with so little.”
“Olrox, you used a huge amount of power on that lightning only a few days ago. Then you’ve kept healing small injuries like muscle soreness. Add in your insistence on keeping your body temperature up, and you’d barely had a chance to regain any magic before this attack happened. Your magic would regenerate faster if you stopped raising your temperature—”
“No.” Before Adrian could say it, he acknowledged, “I know Mizrak said they wouldn’t care if I was the same temperature as a corpse, but I don’t … I don’t want that. It’s a relief when people don’t flinch away.”
“Consider this, then,” Adrian said quietly. “Summer will come soon. I’m sure Mizrak and Edouard enjoyed you being warmer than the average human during cold months. But when the weather starts feeling hot and sticky, they may find it more appealing if you were slightly cooler. Not cold, just not likely to increase their temperature further when they’re already overheating.”
“Akin to the later weeks when Mizrak was incubating the eggs, then,” Olrox mused. “He didn’t want to be held, because he already felt too hot. I suppose I can try to warm myself a little less …”
“And in fall, barring any other emergencies, you’ll be fully recovered and able to be appealingly warm again as the temperature falls,” Adrian concluded.
“I can live with that,” Olrox agreed. “You do occasionally have good ideas, my friend,” he added with a smirk.
“Occasionally?” Adrian laughed. “Have some respect for your elders, you young reprobate!” He bumped his shoulder against Olrox’s, and they walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence.
***
As soon as Olrox and Alucard returned, the household gathered in the salon to discuss their strategy moving forward. Despite his obvious exhaustion, Olrox refused to sit down, not wanting to risk smearing blood all over the furniture. Edouard was fairly sure it was dry now, though Olrox would definitely need a new jacket. He couldn’t see any blood on the breeches, at least. He tried to hide his shudder. Racing into the house and finding both of his lovers lying on the floor in a pool of blood … he was almost certainly going to have nightmares about that for a long time to come.
“Obviously, no one goes out on their own,” Richter stated confidently, then added, “Though Mizrak wasn’t alone, even if he might’ve looked it.”
“I’m not sure just going out in pairs would be enough,” Annette said quietly. “If that vampire could throw one knife before being noticed, what’s to stop one from throwing two? We need to do more than that. Though I’m definitely glad Azure and Chili were with you, Mizrak; otherwise, we might not have known anything was wrong until it was too late.”
Olrox winced, and Mizrak lost his patience with him not being close enough. He pulled Edouard up off the couch with him and over to Olrox, where he told the vampire. “Sit down. Furniture or floor, I don’t care. We’re sitting down together.”
Olrox lowered himself to the floor, even while weakly protesting, “You’ll get blood all over you again.” It didn’t stop him from pulling them close when they sat down on either side of him, and Edouard leaned in gratefully.
“Then I’ll change clothes again. You paid for an absurd amount of clothing; this way I’ll at least use it,” Mizrak told him, putting his head down on Olrox’s shoulder. Azure took the opportunity to move to the top of Olrox’s head, surveying the area critically. Chili was dozing around Mizrak’s neck, as he had been since the attack, and grumpily shifted his tail to keep it from being squeezed. Thistle, Mint, and Mango all took the opportunity to curl up in Olrox’s lap, leaving Maria looking disappointed to find her own lap suddenly empty.
Resuming the conversation, Richter asked, “Is there anything else we can do, besides going out in pairs or hunting the bastards down?”
“Not just people in this house in danger,” Thomas interjected. “Mister Dubois, who owned that house, is dead. Throat torn out. People in town are nervous.”
“Perhaps we could invite the captain and the national guard to stay in the city,” Alucard mused. “People might need time to get used to the night creatures, but since they’re not mindless beasts and will fight to defend the townsfolk, that time might be less than elsewhere.”
“I can’t imagine she and her troops have found many places welcoming,” Terra agreed. “Perhaps you should explain the plan to the townsfolk, Alucard, and let them agree to it—which I’m sure they will. Advance warning will make them much more welcoming. And if everyone trusts each other, that leaves fewer opportunities for vampires seeking revenge to slip in unnoticed.”
“I’ll do that,” Alucard agreed. “Thomas, would you be willing to introduce me to people, so that a town meeting can be arranged?” Thomas nodded, and Alucard smiled at him. “Excellent. Thank you.” Thomas grumbled a bit but said nothing coherent.
“In the meantime, let’s stay inside as much as possible, and only go out in groups of two or more when we have to. Agreed?” Annette asked. When everyone nodded or murmured their agreement, she said, “Good. Then I’m for bed. For some reason, I’ve been finding it difficult to fall asleep at night.” She eyed Olrox, Mizrak, and Edouard when she said it.
Edouard could feel his face heating. “I apologize—” he began.
Annette laughed. “Relax, I’m just teasing. The thoughts in my head have been keeping me awake, not the three of you.” Edouard stuck his tongue out at her, then buried his face in Olrox’s shoulder.
“The fastest way to get rid of intrusive thoughts is to either find a brand-new brain, or to find a partner to … discuss the thoughts with,” Alucard interjected, grinning. “Given how much tossing and turning Richter does before he starts snoring, I’m sure he’d be happy to help.”
Richter, who had turned bright red, objected to the only part of that he felt comfortable addressing: “I do not snore!”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Maria muttered. “You sound like a whole group of foresters set up right outside to tear a very large tree into matchsticks.”
“Perhaps we should adjourn upstairs early, Richter,” Annette told him. “We can discuss my intrusive thoughts and go over some tips to keep your snoring to a minimum. Goodnight, all.” She stood and walked to the doorway, then turned back to Richter. “Coming?”
He nearly fell over from the speed at which he vacated his chair. “Right behind you!” He stuck his tongue out at the room and quickly followed the young woman out.
After a moment, Alucard hummed. “I didn’t think that through all the way. I may have just lost my room for the night.”
“Yes, I rather think you did,” Olrox replied, grinning. “Or at least for a few hours.”
“I doubt he’ll last that long,” Mizrak teased. “Though she might find other uses for him.” He laughed at Maria’s disgusted face and muttering about brother figures and too much information. “For now, we should head to bed ourselves, before I fall asleep here. You need to rest, not carry me any more today,” he said firmly when Olrox opened his mouth.
Edouard heaved himself to his feet and offered each of his lovers a hand up. The snakelets grumbled at being shifted, but since he had no idea where the basket had ended up, they would just have to put up with the movement. “Goodnight, all,” he told the others in the salon, then lead the way upstairs.
As they settled the children on a blanket in front of the hearth, Edouard mused, “We’ll need to figure out where they’ll all sleep, soon. Unless they’re likely to sleep in serpent form?”
Olrox shook his head. “No, they won’t shift that frequently until they’re older. I’ve asked Thomas to find some cots we can push together for them. By the time they’re old enough to need their own space in a year or two, there may be other rooms available.”
“So sex will be limited to when someone can watch them. Hopefully Maria, at least, won’t leave for quite a while,” Mizrak joked.
“Or lose interest in watching them all the time, with or without help. Finding others willing to watch five dhampir children would be challenging; finding anyone while they’re still in serpent form might be next to impossible,” Olrox pointed out. “Not everyone will find them adorable.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want lunatics watching them anyway, would we? And personally, I think only lunatics wouldn’t find them delightful,” Edouard teased. “Or does that just mean we’re the lunatics?”
“Hard to say,” Olrox murmured, smiling at him. “Very hard to say.” When Mizrak lay down, the vampire encouraged the knight to move over, telling him, “You’re in the middle tonight.”
Edouard nodded, and once Mizrak was settled on his back, they both lay down on either side of him with an arm around his waist. “Sleep well,” the singer whispered and closed his eyes.
Chapter Text
It was a good thing vampires didn’t actually require much sleep, Olrox mused as he watched the slow rise and fall of Mizrak’s chest. He’d managed to rest during the night, but any time he tried to fall asleep, he startled awake moments later, terrified he hadn’t managed to save Mizrak. That no one had found him in time, or that the healing had failed, or that he’d missed something. That, if he fell asleep, Mizrak would suffer some sort of complication and die while lying right next to him.
Watching through the night had been far more peaceful. The children, sensing he was awake, curled up around him or draped over him: Thistle and Mint made a nest of each other’s coils on the pillow next to him, Mango curled over his throat, and Azure and Chili wound around his wrists, keeping their own watch over Mizrak.
Around six o’clock, Edouard stirred, and Mint and Thistle slid over to him, twining through his hair. He smiled and opened his eyes, meeting Olrox’s gaze across Mizrak’s sleeping form. The smile slid off his face as he studied Olrox’s features, finally whispering, “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” Olrox shook his head, and he sighed. “I’ll take the children down for breakfast, and then I’ll come back up. Will you be able to sleep if you know I’m watching over him?” Olrox shrugged. “Worth a try, anyway.”
Edouard climbed out of bed and dressed, then returned to the bed to steal a kiss. “I’ll be back shortly,” he murmured, then proceeded downstairs, with all five children following like ducklings.
Olrox resumed his vigil, listening to his knight’s steady breathing. If Azure and Chili hadn’t gone with Mizrak … if his healing had failed … He shuddered and buried his face in Mizrak’s shoulder, trying to keep his hold relaxed to not wake his lover.
He failed. “Olrox? What time is it?” Mizrak asked blearily.
“Still early. Go back to sleep, my love,” Olrox murmured, drawing back to look at Mizrak.
Mizrak rolled onto his side, instead, lifting one hand to cup Olrox’s cheek. “I’m fine,” he told the vampire quietly. “You saved me. I’m safe and whole. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Olrox shuddered and buried his face in Mizrak’s neck. “I didn’t think it would work,” he whispered. “I kept pouring more power in, but … you were healing so slowly, and I … if I’d failed …” A tear rolled over the bridge of his nose on its way toward the pillow.
“But you didn’t,” Mizrak soothed. “I’m right here. Your magic worked; we just need to give you time to replenish it, and everything will be fine.” He paused. “You talked before about your life force. How you would use that before letting our children get hurt. Did you …? You looked terrible after healing me. Tell me you didn’t …”
Olrox shook his head just enough to be sure the knight felt it. “I didn’t have to. I would’ve, but it didn’t get quite that far.”
Mizrak hauled him closer into a tight embrace. “Don’t,” he said raggedly. “Don’t you dare die trying to heal me.”
“I won’t lose you. Either of you,” Olrox whispered. “I couldn’t bear it. Not again …” What he’d felt for his former lover was akin to a bonfire, compared to the inferno he felt for Mizrak and Edouard. To lose either would leave him cold all his days. Even knowing he might suffer that fate with mortal lovers, let it be decades in the future. Not now. Not so soon …
“You think I could bear living, knowing you ended your life to save mine?” Mizrak cried, gripping tighter. If he was human, his rib cage might be feeling a little crushed right now, Olrox noted absently. “Don’t you dare.”
“I can’t—” Olrox protested, but Mizrak cut him off.
“If you can’t heal me without hurting yourself, then change me!” Mizrak snarled, pulling back to look Olrox in the eye. His eyes were frantic and full of tears.
Oh, Olrox thought, reaching to wipe Mizrak’s unshed tears away. He’s afraid. “Do you mean that?” he asked quietly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Mizrak choked out. “I used to think becoming a vampire made a person lose their soul. But I know better now. Besides, my soul’s already been bargained away. It’s not a difficult choice between you and Hell,” he laughed, perhaps trying to lighten the mood.
Olrox’s heart sank. “You don’t have to make that choice,” he murmured. “Once we find out which demon the contract was with, Adrian and I will renegotiate. Your soul will be yours to do with as you choose, I promise.”
Mizrak winced. “I didn’t mean it like that,” the knight whispered. “I’d rather spend as much time here with you as I can get than spend an eternity without you. Even if my soul went to Heaven, that sounds like an unbearable kind of torment. I’m not ready to ask you to turn me without an emergency. But I will be at some point, I’m sure of that. If it happens a little earlier than planned, I’ll be fine with that.”
Olrox jumped when Edouard’s voice sounded behind him, as the singer crawled back into bed and snuggled close. “Same. I want at least a few more years, ideally. Who knows, maybe I’ll want eggs, when our children are older. But I have every intention of spending the rest of a very long life with you, so don’t get any ideas about throwing yours away.”
“You’re serious?” Olrox whispered, turning his head to look at Edouard, then back to Mizrak. “Both of you …?”
“Yes,” Mizrak said firmly. He could feel Edouard nodding behind him. Olrox took a shaky breath and let it out slowly, allowing himself to cling to Mizrak. When Edouard wrapped an arm around his waist, he grasped the singer’s forearm to hold him close.
They lay quietly for long minutes, reveling in each other’s company. Mizrak’s desperate hold slowly loosened, and he lifted a hand to run it through Olrox’s hair. Edouard nuzzled the back of his neck, and he could feel his muscles releasing tension that seemed like it had been there for years. And maybe some of it had.
Olrox’s eyes had closed, and he’d begun to drift off, when his mind presented an image of Mizrak lying on the cobbles, skin tinted blue and eyes clouded over. Olrox gasped, eyes flying open, and pawed with one hand at Mizrak’s back, frantically checking that the skin was whole. He could hear his lovers’ heartbeats on either side of him, but … was Mizrak’s erratic? Or was that a product of his anxiety?
“I’m all right,” Mizrak murmured, still running his fingers through his hair. “I’m still here. Relax, love.”
Olrox tried. Consciously relaxing his muscles failed as they immediately tightened when he focused elsewhere. And his attempts to reassure himself that Mizrak was well—and that he need not worry about his healing power failing, given Mizrak’s permission to save him another way—failed miserably. All he could do was bury his face in Mizrak’s throat and shake.
After a moment, Edouard asked, “I would guess you’re seeing what could have happened every time you close your eyes. Is that right?” Olrox nodded. “Then we need to find a way to make your brain focus on images of Mizrak being healthy. Any ideas?”
For a moment, none of them said anything. Then Mizrak chuckled. “Remember in the first few days I was here, the night I couldn’t fall asleep because I couldn’t stop thinking? You stopped yourself from making a dirty joke that a friend frequently made. That was Alucard, wasn’t it? I would guess he toned it down for Maria or just to be more polite in front of a group, but his euphemism of discussing the problem—that’s what you were thinking of that night.”
Olrox smiled slightly against Mizrak’s skin. “Yes, he toned it down. When I had trouble sleeping due to my thoughts, he would offer to fuck them right out of my head, since finding a brand-new brain was unlikely.’”
“That’s a thought,” Edouard mused. “Not to tout any magical healing power of sex, but it would give you something else to think about. And seeing Mizrak healthy enough to enjoy it might keep some of those thoughts from coming back as quickly, the way watching him sleep wouldn’t. Being with the two of you certainly helped calm me down when Vaublanc was here. Enough to sleep, even if I didn’t sleep soundly until he was gone.”
Mizrak hummed. “It can’t hurt to try that. And all of us would enjoy it, that I’m sure of. Do you have anything in particular you’d like, Olrox? Especially anything we haven’t tried before, since that might cement it as a more recent memory than the attack.”
Olrox hummed, thinking. “There’s one thing I think you might enjoy at some point,” Olrox told his knight. “But since it involves having someone behind you, you might not be ready for that. It can wait.”
“Tell us,” insisted Edouard. “How is Mizrak supposed to know whether he’s ready or not if you don’t say what you’re thinking of?”
“Given that you’ve enjoyed fisting and other large penetrations—” Olrox began.
“Your serpent cocks, you mean,” Mizrak filled in with a smirk.
“Yes. Given that, I expect you would enjoy Edouard and I both fucking you at the same time. Both in your ass at the same time,” he clarified, pulling back to look Mizrak in the eye. “But I can’t think of any way for us to do that besides one facing you and one behind. If you’re not comfortable with the idea, we can do something else. I don’t want to do anything you’re not all right with.” He stroked a hand over Mizrak’s hair, as the knight was still doing to his own.
Mizrak hummed thoughtfully. “If I still had the omega parts, I’d say absolutely not. Too much risk of getting lost in a memory. But … I might be all right with that now. Especially if whoever is behind me keeps talking, to remind me who I’m with. I mean, I think I’d remember based on who’s in front of me, but … just as a precaution. And it does sound like something I’d enjoy.”
“Who would you prefer to be behind you?” Olrox asked carefully. Mizrak trusted him, he was sure of that these days, but in a tense moment … Especially since Olrox would probably have his mouth on the knight’s skin, and Mizrak could feel the shape of his fangs, despite Olrox having no intention of biting. Would that bring back memories of others with fangs being behind him?
Mizrak shrugged. “I’m not sure it matters, so long as they talk.”
“Perhaps Edouard would be the safer bet, then,” Olrox told the knight. “If you don’t mind,” he added, looking over his shoulder at the singer.
Edouard had a knowing look on his face as he gazed at the vampire, but he simply said, “Sounds fine to me.” He moved to sit leaning against the headboard at Olrox’s direction while Mizrak fetched the oil. “He’s not afraid of you,” he said quietly.
Olrox winced. “I know. But if he feels fangs belonging to the person behind him …”
“Right. I suppose that’s a possibility,” Edouard murmured as Mizrak returned. The knight gave both of them a pointed look but decided not to ask, settling himself in front of the singer. Mizrak leaned back against Edouard, knees held wide by the singer’s own legs, and Olrox carefully stretched his entrance to take four fingers. When Edouard’s cock breached him, the knight stiffened slightly, but when Edouard murmured, “You feel so good, Mizrak,” he relaxed, resting his head against Edouard’s shoulder. They both moaned when Olrox inserted two more fingers, then three; then the vampire carefully moved forward and slowly thrust in.
Mizrak was panting, with a hint of a whine on each exhale, and his cock was already drooling. Edouard continued talking about how Mizrak was so good to both of them and doing so well. Olrox was impressed, because he wasn’t sure he could get a single thought out of his head in a coherent fashion just now. Edouard’s cock throbbed next to his own, clasped tightly in Mizrak’s heat.
Olrox lifted Mizrak’s hips slightly, then pulled him down again; the knight whimpered as Edouard groaned. “Good?” Olrox panted. “Or too much?”
“Good!” Mizrak rasped, keening as Olrox lifted him again and thrust home. He pulled the vampire’s head close to kiss him, tugging lightly on Olrox’s hair.
“Very good,” Edouard agreed, then mouthed at the side of Mizrak’s neck, sucking gently as Olrox continued moving the knight up and down.
“Olrox—Edouard—please!” Mizrak begged, tightening deliciously around them. “Close!”
“Come, Mizrak!” Olrox pulled back to murmur, slamming his hips up. Mizrak’s yelp was swallowed by Edouard’s mouth as he pulled the knight’s face to his. Both Olrox and Edouard held still as Mizrak’s body trembled through his orgasm. When he lay still again, Olrox asked, “Should we pull out? Or do you want more?”
“More!” Mizrak growled, yanking Olrox back into a kiss. The vampire and the singer began trading control of the knight’s mouth as Olrox increased the pace of his thrusts.
Mizrak came again after a moment of this, but pulled his head back and hissed, “Keep going!” before Olrox could pause. The knight’s eyes were unfocused, and his cock had softened, though it continued to drool slightly each time Olrox brushed his prostate.
Edouard caught Olrox’s eye, and the vampire increased his speed again, pulling Mizrak back into a kiss. Edouard swore, and Mizrak howled into Olrox’s mouth, jerking in orgasm despite his cock remaining soft. Olrox felt Edouard’s come slick Mizrak’s passage, and he groaned and came himself.
Panting heavily, he pulled back to check on Mizrak. The knight’s eyes were nearly closed, and all of his muscles were completely limp. The vampire lifted his hips one last time to pull him free of their cocks, and he shivered and whined, clinging to Olrox. “Get him lying down; I’ll grab the cloth,” Edouard whispered, kissing him quickly before sliding out of bed.
Mizrak didn’t even twitch when the singer cleaned him up, already dead to the world. Olrox could feel his own lids growing heavy as he lay down beside his knight and pulled him into his arms. When Edouard climbed back into bed on Mizrak’s other side, he smiled gently. “Sleep. We’re all happy and healthy—and thoroughly worn out.”
Olrox smiled smugly and let his eyes slip closed, safe in bed with both of his beloveds.
***
They all gathered in the entrance hall, adults and toddlers, to see Richter and Annette off, headed for the coast and from there to Saint-Domingue. Terra and Maria hugged them both, wishing them a safe journey, before Maria stepped back and took green-eyed Sofia from Edouard to free up one of his arms so he could hug Annette. Purple-eyed Olivier looked disgruntled to have his twin more than a few inches away, but with Maria standing beside Edouard with Sofia on her closer hip, he suffered in silence.
Blue-eyed Leona sat atop Mizrak’s shoulders, keeping an eye on her surroundings like the fierce lioness she was named for. The knight kept one hand on her knee while he held her red-eyed brother Alexi on his opposite hip, so he and Richter shared a nod rather than a handshake or backslapping hug. Annette then carefully embraced Olrox, who held his youngest son, orange-eyed Quetzalli. “Stay safe, all of you,” Annette told them. “We’ll write.”
“As will we,” Edouard promised. “And you have the letter …?” Annette nodded to her pack, where a letter to Edouard’s former lover was safely stored. “Tell him I’m sorry, and I hope he finds someone wonderful.”
“I will, brother.” With a last hug to Edouard, Annette turned and walked toward the carriage Olrox had arranged for them, so they wouldn’t have to carry their luggage. The household all watched as the driver took them down the street and out of sight. Mizrak leaned in to brush against Olrox’s comfortably cool skin as the sun blazed above them.
Two guards passed by on their patrol, nodding to everyone, and they nodded back. No one on the street was surprised anymore by humans and night creatures sharing a watch. The last months had been peaceful, with vampires being caught before they could hurt anyone in the town. Alucard had declared it successful enough to no longer need his assistance over a month ago, though he popped in and out to check on them between doing whatever it was the dhampir did—Mizrak honestly had no idea.
Terra and Maria had decided to stay for the indefinite future, and they were both a welcome help when it came to corralling five rambunctious toddlers. There were times when all five adults were needed to keep up with the children as they explored and learned rapidly. Just yesterday, Leona had convinced Alexi to follow her to the lounge while Terra was helping with lunch and the others were absorbed in trying to stop Olivier from fighting with Quetzalli over some perceived offense to Sofia. They’d been unsupervised all of a minute, but Leona had pulled a chair over to the wall, then stood on both it and Alexi’s shoulders, managing to pull both decorative sabers down from their mounts just as Mizrak walked in. Dull though they were, they were immediately locked in the weapons chest with the other blades, and all five toddlers were warned that weapons were not toys. Mizrak wasn’t sure their fierce little lioness of an oldest child believed them about that yet.
Heading back into the house and letting all the children down when they demanded their freedom, Mizrak shared a look with Olrox and smiled. How far they’d come since the night he’d met the vampire, injured and terrified, even if he’d been determined to show it as little as possible. He never could’ve imagined ending up with two beloveds and five children, living in a happy household as Báthory’s ashes swirled around an empty noble estate. But knowing what he did now, he would do it all again.