Remembrance: written by Kora Knight & Raven Foxx
The underlord was furious. Apparently, Jazz was not willing to join him for breakfast as he’d earlier promised. Stalking to the angel's bedroom, he stops just outside the door, struggling not to kick the thing open. How dare Jazz stand him up! He grips the handle, shoves open the door, and stalks inside. With a bellow forming in his lungs, he freezes at the sight; the angel, lying in a fetal position atop his bed. He’s trembling and sweating profusely, as if burning with fever.
Then a faint whimper escapes Jazz’s lips.
Seth gapes in shock. When had his angel become so ill? Strange compassion—and alien guilt—tug at Seth’s heart.
Seth scowls. When had he gotten one of those? Regardless, he can’t stop the wracking emotions.
Spanning the room, he swiftly sits beside Jazz on the bed. “Angel,” he whispers, gathering Jazz into his arms. “What have I done?”
Leaning down, he presses his lips to Jazz’s forehead, an action that has Seth instantly tensing. He doesn’t understand. Where was such strong regret coming from? He knows this was his doing—he’d gotten Jazz addicted to his essence, then failed to have him dosed adequately—but still, to feel bad? Remorseful for such? It makes no sense. And that unsettles the dark lord deeply.
Jazz jerks, stirring to awareness amidst the blackness of his hell. He can feel himself being lifted, encircled by strong arms, the scent suddenly engulfing him, undeniable. Seth. Seth was holding him, but the movement ignites raw pain, slamming his aching torso like a battering ram.
Arching sharply, he hisses, then starts to pitifully pant, his parted lips pressed against the dark lord’s shoulder. “Oh, fuck— Seth—It hurts—so bad—" His body shudders violently. He sucks in a raged breath. “Please—Aw, God—Make it stop.”
He swears he hears Seth curse, but not in anger. It sounds like... regret.
And then he hears it. Seth’s gentle plea. “Forgive me. I have been gone far too long.”
Peeling open his bloodshot eyes, Jazz watches Seth bite open his thumb, then bring the oozing finger to Jazz’s lips. Warm, coppery liquid seeps into Jazz’s mouth. Jazz shudders at the taste of Seth's essence. His stomach lurches with frantic anticipation. Weakly, he grasps the vampire's wrist and urgently sucks on his thumb. He can hear his captor speaking but struggles to make out the words. Blood is pumping too loud in his ears.
“Come with me,” Seth whispers, taking his thumb away to stand with Jazz tight in his arms.
Carrying him to the bathing chambers next to his bedroom, he approaches a large claw foot tub. Jazz peers up at him, watching the underlord close his eyes, as if suddenly trying to concentrate. Next thing Jazz knows, his clothes are gone. Just vanished from his body.
Seth growls. “You’re burning up. I can feel fevered skin through my shirt.” He frowns and sinks to his knees, lowering Jazz into the bath.
Jazz trembles as water envelops him, his panting slowly evening out, but his groans still continue nevertheless. The warmth soothes his chills yet does nothing whatsoever for the thousands of vicious blades lancing his gut.
“Please…” he croaks, looking up at Seth pleadingly. “Please… Just kill me… Kill me now...”
Seth’s chest vises at Jazz’s entreaty, at his angel’s request for death. Wait. His angel? As fucked up as it is, he nevertheless likes the sound of that. After all, Jazz was his, his captive, Seth rationalizes. So yes, his angel. And his angel would be all right. Would get better. Seth would make sure of it.
Resolved, he slides his hand down Jazz’s chest beneath the water to stroke along the angel’s rock-hard abs. His other, Seth brings to his fangs and bites, ripping open a generous gash. Against Jazz's mouth, he presses the wound and watches as his blood trailed down Jazz’s chin, trickling freely into the warm bath’s rippling water.
The sight feels beautiful—and right. Seth’s eyes hood in satisfaction. But once his angel swallows a good few mouthfuls, Seth’s lip curls back on a growl. Tugging his free hand from the bath, he grabs Jazz's arm and jerks it with a snarl to his mouth. Jazz jerks as Seth bites down, sinking his fangs into Jazz’s flesh, flooding Jazz’s veins with more of his venom. It was time for another dosing and this time he wouldn’t forget. Would give Jazz more of the agent that physically binds them.
~Accept me, Angel,~ he whispers into Jazz’s barely-lucid mind. ~Welcome all of me into you. I’ll soothe your pain.~
Jazz sucks greedily against Seth's wrist, drawing as hard as he can from his vein. But when a sultry murmur penetrates the haze inside his skull, he freezes in surprise. And alarm. Seth's voice, easing his mind. Offering peace to his frantic soul. Jazz shifts beneath the water at the strange yet familiar link, so similar to the way he used to communicate with his siblings. And yet, the underlord’s connection feels inexplicably more intimate, like some secret place where only Seth could venture. Where Jazz and the vampire feeding him could just be. No good guy. No bad guy. Just the two of them in the quiet.
Jazz loosens his grip on Seth's wrist, his mind distracted by Seth’s mental whispers. But when a fresh stab of pain sears him right in the gut, Jazz gasps and snaps back to the task at hand. Although, honestly, this wrist business was taking too long. He needs a source with a faster friggin’ flow.
Shoving Seth’s arm away, Jazz snarls, “Too slow.” Then, with partially restored strength—compounded with adrenaline and resolve—Jazz lurches upward, gunning for the vampire’s torso. Grabbing Seth’s thick biceps, he yanks him over into the tub. Blush-tinted water splashes over the ledge as Seth lands haphazardly atop Jazz’s body.
Shocked eyes stare down at him, but Jazz doesn’t care. Just growls at the guy. “I want your jugular.”
Seth rumbles in irritation but slices a talon across his neck. Blood streams down his chest into the water. Jazz latches his hot lips over the wound in an instant.
Seth shudders with a hiss of blatant pleasure. “I want your ass. I want to fuck you, Angel. Ah, hell... Don't fucking stop.” His eyes roll back, but then snap right back open again. “No. Wait,” he snarls. “You could take too much. Could kill me.” He chuckles darkly then, the sound echoing. “Fuck it. If you stop, I'll kill you.”
Again, his eyes slide shut.
Jazz moans in relief, Seth’s blood against at his throat a calming balm. But soon he can feel the vampire weakening. Pulling from Seth’ neck, Jazz closes his eyes as his captor settled limply against his body.
“Shit, that felt amazing,” Seth groans, voice thin.
Jazz lifts his lashes and eyes him. Was he okay? He looks lethargic. Did Jazz take too much?
Seth chuckles low. “Don't worry. My strength will return. I just need to go and rip out someone's throat.” His timbre dips lower. He whispers against Jazz’s cheek. “It pleases me to know I fill your veins.”
Jazz studies him with sated eyes. Seth is utterly fatigued. So drained, and with his powerful blood surging through Jazz's body, Jazz could take him so easily. In a heartbeat. Oddly though, the last thing he wants to do is end the male—let alone get up and freaking bolt. For some unsettling reason, Seth’s last words have persuaded him. Seduced him into wanting to stay.
And maybe give the fucker something back.
Reveling in the sensation of pain finally leaving his body, Jazz catches his breath. “Fuck that, vampire. There’ll be no ripping out someone’s neck tonight.” He would not be the reason another died, he inwardly rationalized.
Shifting apprehensively, he parts his knees beneath the male, allowing Seth to settle between his thighs. Seth languidly melts against him with a tired and groggy growl. Jazz exhales and shakes his head. What the fuck’s he doing right now? Was he losing his mind?
Tentatively, his hands slide up Seth’s muscular back. He’s so heavy against him, such a strong and massive male. Heart pounding, Jazz turns his head--a blatant invite for any vampire. “Take my vein,” he murmurs breathlessly. “Got enough for the both of us.”
The underlord didn’t need to be asked twice.
A second later, Jazz arches hard, a shout flying past his lips, as he grips tight to the muscles of Seth's back. The male just buried razor-sharp fangs in his neck. Jazz settles back down with a deep-throated, “Ohhh fuuuck…”
Seth shudders against his angel, not too out of it to remember that Jazz is completely naked while he is still completely clothed. He sinks his fangs deeper, grinding his thickness against Jazz’s heat. ~Yesss…~ he moans along their link, sharing his pleasure.
Jazz squirms beneath him, writhing anxiously with panting curses.
Seth swallows harder, faster, his strength returning with a fiery fervor. Eager hands clutch at the male who has offered his flesh. So good. Again, Seth groans, the sound throaty and excited, drinking deeply, so deeply, until he knows that he should stop.
Snarling, he breaks away and laps Jazz’s wounds until they close. “So thoughtful,” he whispers against Jazz’s ear with a smirk. “You're starting to give a damn about me. But do be careful. I am no one’s to care for. Not ever.”
Inexplicably blissed-out by that insanely wicked feeding, Jazz chuckles in a daze, “You wish I cared.” He grips the vampire’s sides and rocks his hips, absently seeking friction for his boner. He grunts softly when he finds it—then groans in more bliss. “For the record,” he mumbles, head spinning as if intoxicated, “caring about something and wanting something are two completely different things.”
Seth growls against his shoulder and grinds his own bulge against Jazz’s groin. Visions streak through Jazz’s mind—that heated kiss from a few days back, the vampire’s intimate touch in the pool. Jazz curses, the images and Seth’s grinding unraveling his sanity.
He grips the vampire harder, then out of nowhere latches onto Seth’s lobe. “Fuck,” he moans as he begins to suck, water sloshing sensually against their bodies. “Seth... I can’t— I can’t think straight…”
Seth stiffens against the angel. “We must stop,” he mutters, trying to pull back. But Jazz just clutches him tighter. “Stop or I'm going to fuck you,” he grates. “And neither of us want that right now.” He pulls back to look into Jazz’s eyes. “Bathe and rest,” he breathes roughly.
“Wait,” Jazz blurts, not ready for this to end.
“I must go. Must feed more.” Frowning, Seth extricates himself from Jazz's grasp. “I will have someone bring you clothes and then you will join me for dinner.” Water spills across the floor as he rises from the tub, streaming from his utterly soaked clothes.
Jazz watches him go, the male’s erotic threat running laps around his head. What the fuck had Jazz been thinking? He scrubs his face, cursing as his mind comes back on-line, slowly shrugging off the haze of Seth Masters.
Fuck. Jazz has got to get a grip on these dark urges. His gaze drops down to the dark pink water still sloshing from the vampire’s abrupt departure. Jazz frowns, his mind reeling with too many conflicting emotions. His gaze drops lower. Son of a bitch, he's as hard as a friggin steel rod.
So messed up.
Groaning, he drains the tub and refills it again with clean water. Five minutes later, he’s toweling off. A few after that and Seth's female servant enters the room, fresh clothes in hand as well as Jazz’s traditional evening ‘wine.’ He thanks her with a grunt, then makes quick work of getting dressed. She doesn’t leave, however, until he downs his libation. He purses his lips, knowing it’ll be she who gets punished if he doesn’t ‘partake.’ Chugging down the vintage, he heads back to his quarters, muttering restlessly, “This place, that male, are fucking with my head bad.”
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