Remembrance: written by Kora Knight & Raven Foxx
Jazz wakes up unsure of how long he's been sleeping, let alone if it's morning or night. He blinks, looking around his new surroundings. He's in a different sleeping chamber. On a softer bed. He frowns. Seth really does want him well rested before their face off. Jazz can’t help the groan that echoes inside him. How the fuck is he going to defeat that dick? He stands better chances of sprouting hooves and galloping his ass out of there.
He drags both hands down his face. All he can do is throw down all that he's made of and hope like hell the guy fights fair. Either way, one thing is certain: the smack down that's coming will decide his fate. Either he'll win his freedom or spend the rest of his days at the beck and call of that evil fucker.
He growls, fisting his hands against his forehead. “Fuck. I’m so gonna need my Wheaties today.”
A deep laugh rumbles past Jazz’s ears. “Talking to yourself already?” Seth smirks, stepping into the room. A servant follows behind him with a plate of eggs, bacon, fruit, and juice.
Jazz quickly sits up.
“You will indeed need your strength,” the underlord murmurs. “Eat up.”
In stark contradiction to Jazz’s growing tension, Seth sprawls lazily into a chair. Dark eyes watch the female servant set the tray upon Jazz's lap.
“Sleep well?” His captor asks indifferently. Clearly, he doesn’t care either way. Seth frowns down at the state of his fingers, noticing a bit of dried blood. “Hmm. I seem to have missed a spot.” With a shrug, he lets his hand fall to his lap and levels his gaze upon Jazz.
Jazz frowns, the smell of savory food making his stomach growl. He flicks a look down at the tray. Damn. He never ate this good at home. Wait. He stiffened. What if it's drugged?
He narrows his eyes back at Seth. “You think I'm an idiot? You really think I’d trust you enough to eat what you give me?” Seth glares at him. Jazz grimaces at the evil floating his way, swallowing repeatedly to force the bile back down his throat.
“Eat, you fool,” Seth finally growls. “If I wanted to poison you I have other ways of doing it.” His lips curve secretively. “Ways much more enjoyable to us both.” Again, he examines his blood-tinged fingers. “Besides, why would I lower myself to such tactics when it's so much more pleasurable to use my hands?” He laughs deeply, then instantly turns cold. “Now eat,” he snarls, “or so help me, I will make you.”
Jazz's jaw ticks as his glares at Seth. “I believe you ‘lowered yourself to such tactics’ to get me here in the first place,” he grits through clenched teeth. “I don’t typically go all comatose from a simple cup of coffee. I'm gonna guess that Zayta,” he sneers her name, “had a bit of help from you there.” He shoves the food away and flips Seth off. “So fuck you, vampire. You'll have to fight a weak and malnourished male today.” He chuckles humorlessly. “How satisfying that should be.”
Seth moves in a flash. Before Jazz can blink, the vampire pins him to the bed.
“What sealed your fate in that coffee, boy, was a taste of my poison.” He grins wickedly. “A taste of me. And I didn't do it to just knock you out. If you search deep inside, you will understand why I did it.” His grin turns cruel. “Search deeply and find the truth.” Out of nowhere, he leans in close and nuzzles Jazz’s neck. “Mm. Don't you feel it? That need?” he purrs.
Jazz's eyes go wide at Seth's words. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Look deep inside himself? His gut twists with unease as Seth peers down at him, realization starting to surface. He tries to extricate himself, but he's weaker than he thought. He's slitting his own throat by refusing to eat. Killing his own chances at coming out the victor.
With a growl, he locks eyes with the male. “Get off me. I'll eat… While you tell me what you've done to me.”
Seth smiles, laughing coolly. “I need not tell you. You know. Deep down, you know.” He draws back, baring his fangs, amber staining their pointed tips. “Now eat, boy, before I chain you to something and beat you.”
Jazz has the urge to snarl at the fucker, his dark angel eyes glaring poison darts. He shuffles back in an effort to establish some personal space. “Someone forgot to take his nice pills this morning,” he mutters, shoving a piece of fruit in his mouth, eyeing Seth’s fangs warily. “You bite me with those fuckers, you better have brushed them first,” he drawls, biting off a piece of bacon. “For reals. That shit’s just nasty.”
Seth laughs, shaking his head. “You remind me of one of my men. So many changes since I last walked the earth,” he mutters in disgust. “But trust me, you'll welcome my bite. Hell, you'll even beg for it,” he growls softly. “Now shut up, eat, and stop trying to anger me.”
Jazz continues to glare at him as he shoves a bite of eggs into his mouth. Chew, chew, swallow. He frowns, still eyeing his captor. The dude was irritatingly perfect. Every fucking feature on him was viciously handsome. Like a Goddamn masterpiece. But ironically, that darkness emanating from him, that hollow pit of a soul in his eyes, makes him utterly repulsive in the same right.
Jazz stills, tilting his head with sudden curiosity. “What made you like this?”
Seth smirks. “You want to know what made me like this? I was born,” he sneers, his lips twisting as he stands and walks out the door, leaving Jazz staring at him from inside the room. “Are you coming, angel boy? Or are you going to hide in there all day?” He chuckles darkly from the shadows of the hallway. “Worried I'll kick your ass?”
Jazz snorts. That is one whack individual. And fighting the dude without his angelic powers should prove interesting to say the least. Jazz looks down at his plate and shoves a few more bites into his mouth. His stomach still isn’t right with so much malice in such a close vicinity to him, but he needs to give himself a fighting chance. Pardon the friggin pun.
Forcing the last of his breakfast down his throat, he sets the tray aside and stands. Then looks down at his linen knee-length shorts. Peering back at the door, he lets out a growling sigh. It’s do or die time. Padding barefoot to the exit, he heads out to where Seth is waiting for him in the corridor’s dark recesses. Without a word, Seth pushes off the wall, grinning smugly, and leads the way to where they’ll be showing each other exactly what they're made of.
Seth smiles as they enter a large open room empty of any furniture but a lone corner couch. The chamber is lit only by candles, casting a dim light throughout. “Since I am feeling kind,” he snorts at the thought, “I'll let you make the first move. I can't have you saying how unfair I am.” He chuckles, turning to face Jazz. His eyes narrow. He gestures Jazz closer.
Jazz pads barefoot further into the room, scanning their surroundings, including every potential escape route and possible weapon. A shield. Anything. When Seth chuckles to his right, Jazz turns to him with grim determination in his stance. Then, with a slight nod, he makes his way closer, the only sound, the soles of his feet making contact with the cold, unforgiving, stone floor.
“You stand by your earlier promise?” he asks. “To fight fair and grant me my freedom if I take your ass down?”
Seth looks board. “Are you going to demand a weapon?” he asks, amusement ringing in his tone. “Or are you going to make some other foolish demand of me?” A teasing smile curves his lips.
Jazz shrugs. “No weapons necessary, as long as you're free of them, too.” When Seth moves closer, his muscles rippling with clear anticipation, Jazz eyes him carefully; watching his movements, assessing him. Slowly, Jazz moves to Seth's left, circling him. “I hear a vampire has wicked speed. Funny, so do angels.”
Without warning, he lunges at Seth, taking him out at the knees. While his speed is hindered due to his repressed angelic abilities, he is still a quick fucker, nevertheless. Both go crashing to the ground.
Seth barks out a laugh and grabs Jazz by the throat, then slams his head hard against the floor. “I like that you are prideful,” he snarls, “but shouldn’t you just you give in, knowing you can't win?” He smirks as Jazz struggles in his hold. “Admit it, you'd like nothing better than to be under me.” Eyes flashing fire, he shoves away and rises to his feet.
Jazz leaps up with a curse, glaring at Seth while rolling his shoulders. “Sorry, dude,” he bites out. “Ain’t convinced just yet that this game is over. And just so you know?” he growls. “I'd like to be under you like I'd want a hole in my head.’”
When Seth chuckles, Jazz lunges at him again, juking right to dodge Seth's attempt to take him down. Then with a quick spin, he turns back and lands a side-kick into Seth's thigh, sending the vampire stumbling back. As his adversary works to regain his footing, Jazz hits him with another Bruce Lee kick, square into his chest. That one puts Seth on his ass.
Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Jazz dives on him, trying to pin him as his fist makes contact with his captor’s face. “I want the fuck outta here!” he barks as they grapple on the floor.
Finding himself wrestling like a young demon with the angel, Seth growls as he rolls atop the boy. “The only way you’re getting out of here is if you’re dead,” he snarls. Hefting Jazz up, Seth slams him back down on the stone. “Should I kill you now or do you submit?” he grates. Before Jazz can groan an answer, he yanks the angel up and slams him into the wall. “Would it be so horrid to be my slave? To be MINE?” he sneers savagely. “You fight with such spirit. I'm going to enjoy breaking you as much as seeing you on your knees.”
Jazz bites back a groan, shaking out his shoulder that hit the wall. His eyes flash with pure rage now. He breathes hard, air sawing out of his lungs as his nostrils flare. Surely, adrenaline races through his veins.
With a snarl, he plants his feet and faces the vampire. “I don’t do ‘on my knees,’ asshole.”
Bristling, he stalks up to Seth, his fists clenched and ready for business. Putting them in front of his face like a rough-edged boxer, he growls. “Too bad it’s clearly gonna take me having to mess up that pretty mug of yours before you realize I ain’t goin’ down.”
Abruptly, he throws out a right. Seth blocks it with ease. He throws a left. Seth dodges it deftly. Faster his punches come, Seth keeping them all at bay, all the while laughing sinisterly.
But then Jazz diverts from the pattern he’s been following and lands an unexpected right elbow to Seth's temple. Seth hisses, stumbling back. Jazz roars and throws a left into Seth's jaw. Then a brutal right hook. As Seth's head snaps back, Jazz descends with a vengeance, plowing another round of wrecking balls in Seth’s face. “FUCK. YOU. VAMPIRE!!” he bellows.
Tasting blood, Seth snarls, stunned by the blows laid upon him. Shoving the angel away, he stumbles with a cruel smirk. “Are you done playing?” he asks, laughing breathlessly. With lightning speed, he moves toward the angel. Grabbing hold, he slams Jazz back into the wall. The cracking of cranial bone echoes through the chamber. Without mercy, he lifts the angel into the air and slams him into the ground. The sound of another bone breaking makes Seth purr, Jazz's pain powerfully turning him on.
“Yes,” he growls. “That's it. Hurt for me, angel. Hurt for me and surrender. Or are you going to make me kill you?” Jazz groans as Seth grins darkly. Grabbing hold of Jazz's arm, he twists it viciously. Jazz screams out in agony. “Surrender or I'll start breaking you!”
Jazz ‘s entire body is overwhelmed with pain. So much so that he’s having a hard time speaking. Seth wrenches his arm back further in impatience. A sickening pop ricochets off the stone walls, Jazz’s shoulder snapping out of socket.
“Fuck!!” he roars, beginning to pant. He tries to rise up on his hand and knees. Above him, Seth chuckles. Despite his wicked soul, the sound came out dark-velvet smooth. Jazz glares at him over his shoulder, wincing from the pain of his cracked skull and rib. “I'm a fucking mission angel,” he grits. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a few broken bones and a twisted arm to make me—AAAAHHHH!! FUCK!!!” he howls as Seth twists his arm ever further. Jazz gasps for air, sucking in ragged breaths. His brows wrench in agony. “Son of a bitch!”
Abruptly, he kicks out his foot, making solid contact with Seth's shin. The vampire topples over beside him. Jazz lunges with another shout, shoving Seth onto his back, then jams his good arm's forearm into the bastard’s throat. Further, he scrambles atop of him, determined to pin Seth, slow him. Anything to give Jazz a second to regain his bearings. “I'll crush your fucking windpipe,” he snarls raggedly.
Seth grins. “Go ahead. I don’t need air and I'll heal quickly… Unlike you,” he tacks on with a smirk. “But know that I'll snap your neck before you're through if you so much as try.” Clearly, he can see how off-balance Jazz is. With inhuman speed, he yanks punches Jazz in the temple, sending him sprawling in a daze.
Rising, Seth dusts himself off and plants his foot atop the center of Jazz's chest. “Submit or I crush your ribs,” he grinds out, eyes turning a demonic black. “I'm tired of this game. Perhaps I'll just rip out your throat and be on my way.” He smirks, eyes smoldering as if completely turned on. As if every ache he brings to Jazz was foreplay.
Jazz groans, his head throbbing, his body nearly immobile from the hits Seth’s delivered. He tries to push the vampire's foot off his chest, but the fucker isn’t budging. Instead, his foot starts to press down, applying serious pressure to Jazz’s sternum. Jazz grimaces and squirms, fighting desperately to get free. His heart pounds in his chest, understanding his need for added oxygen and adrenaline. His legs give the best they’ve got, too, kicking and shuffling against the stone floor. Jazz grips his oppressor's ankle, but the look in Seth’s eyes tells him what he already knows. The game is over. Unable to breathe, he’d soon pass out.
No. God, no.
Jazz tries to breathe, but his chest is so compressed he can’t. His vision starts to spot as blood pounds inside his skull. And still Seth's foot descends as the vampire grins down at him, a wicked gleam in his soulless, black eyes.
Jazz moans in his obvious defeat, his head falling to the side. He can’t—won’t— meet his opponent’s eyes. “Stop,” he gasps weakly. “I'll submit. Just… get your… fucking foot… off me.”
Seth lifts a smug brow. “Do you give me your word?” When Jazz nods, he smirks and removes his foot from his chest. Kneeling down beside him, Seth purrs, “Now, for your first act of obedience, angel boy…” He lifts his wrist to his mouth and bites hard. “Drink,” he growls.
Oh, fuck. Jazz purses his lips together.
“Going back on our deal already?” Seth grinds out. “Drink, damn it. It will help you fucking heal.” He presses the wound to Jazz’s mouth, his free hand jerking Jazz's head back. Fat droplets of blood trickle into Jazz’s mouth.
Jazz curses against Seth’s flesh. “Fuck… No... Not that.” But as he tries to shake his head, his face grimacing in repulsion, Seth squeezes the back of his throbbing skull. “Aaahhh!!”
Fresh pain sears Jazz as more blood pools into his mouth. He chokes and gags, his gut instantly on fire. With his body tensing, his back arches hard off the floor. Eyes wide in alarm, he grips onto Seth's forearm in an attempt to yank his wrist away, but his strength is completely depleted. More blood flows down his throat. He jerks and bucks as the dark essence assails him.
And then Jazz feels it; a strange, erotic burn igniting in his groin. It grows and throbs, building pressure inside him so quickly, so powerfully, that against Seth’s skin, Jazz looses a strangled groan. “Aw fuck—” But before he can react further, the overwhelming sensations short-circuit his brain. With a final hiss, his eyes roll back as his body goes limp on the floor.
Seth smiles and licks his wrist clean, the wound already starting to heal. “Take him to bed,” he growls, getting to his feet. A dark shadow parts from the wall. “And chain his wrists. I don't trust angels. They lie.” The shadow lifts Jazz's broken body as Seth coolly walks away, then carries him back to his sleeping quarters.
In the hallway, Seth spots an approaching female slave and curtly grabs her arm. Dragging her roughly behind him, he heads for his own bed chambers. After that fight with Jazz, he needed some sexual relief.
The characters & their stories are
trademark TM & copyright protected © by the authors.
Neither the characters nor their stories may be used
without written permission from the authors.