Remembrance: written by Kora Knight & Raven Foxx
"1st Act of Submission"
Having been led to an unfamiliar study of sorts by one of Seth's cronies, Jazz is told to stay put until the Master arrives. He frowns at the guard as the male shuts him in and locks the door. Turning, Jazz examines his surroundings. No windows. No other exits either. And the crude ventilation system is way too small to fit through. Fan-fucking-tastic. Like always, he looks for anything to use as a weapon or protection, finding a large iron poker next to the fire place. Footsteps sound outside the room. Jazz quickly snatches the poker up, holding behind his back as he turns to face the door.
Seth enters, clothed in a dark tux, bow tie hanging untied around his neck. He looks ready for an evening out on the town. “Well, look at you, angel,” the underlord grins. “You appear so very excited to see me.” He moves to his desk. Standing with his back to Jazz, he suddenly sighs wearily. “I have business to tend to tonight, but we need to discuss your future now that you've submitted to me.”
Jazz tenses at his words. The one in particular. How he detests the word ‘submit’ these days. He narrows his eyes at the vampire’s back. Taking slow, soundless steps forward, he tries to sound casual as he replies. “What's there to discuss? You say jump. I say how high. Happy day for me.” He raises the iron rod up and moves swiftly, swinging it with deadly precision at the back of Seth's head.
Seth whirls around, his hand lashing out to grab Jazz's hand. “So, angels do lie,” he growls. Ripping the fire poker from Jazz's hold, he shakes it in Jazz’s face. “Tell me why I shouldn't fucking use this on you?” he demands. He flings Jazz to the floor, then swings the rod through the air, slamming it into a nearby table. Beautiful crystal goblets shattering into bits. “How dare you? How fucking dare you?”
Jazz stays put on the ground. Seth stalks toward him, breathing heavily, his eyes filled with demonic rage. Behind him, the doors explode inward, two guards rushing in. Both stop frozen in place at the sight of their master's face. Seth snarls for them to get out, then turns back to level Jazz with a glare.
Jazz scrambles backward. Ah shit. He pissed the dude off bad. Maybe that poker business wasn’t such a great idea. Quickly leaping to his feet, he shrugs nervously. “Hey, listen. The deal never said I couldn’t try to take you out. Just that I had to do what you say.”
Seth's nostrils flare, his eyes flashing murderously.
Jazz holds up his hands. “Alright. Whatever. My bad. Just chill the fuck out. ‘Cause if you break my jaw, we won’t be able to discuss this business you want to… discuss.”
Seth is in his grill in a heartbeat. Jazz sucks in a breath, mesmerized instantly by the vampire's piercing black eyes.
Seth growls, pressing close. “You are going to obey my every command. You are not going to bitch, lash out or try to escape. Do I make myself clear?” Jazz glares at him. Seth’s eyes flashed cruelly. “And while we’re on the subject, let's also make it clear that next time, should I choose to beat the shit out of you,” he snarls, “you will take it in stride and enjoy it!” His chest rises and falls rapidly, fire churning in his gaze, as if morbidly somehow turned on. “Now give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn’t take that poker and beat your ass with it?” he snaps. “Or worse.”
Jazz returns Seth's glower. He knows he's walking a fine line. The vampire could just as easily be talking with his fists instead of his lips. As those black eyes bore into him, Jazz finally speaks. “I don’t have a reason. All I can say is if you were in my shoes you would’ve done the same thing.” When Seth grunts, Jazz frowns. “Tell me I'm wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” Seth bites out. “I would never be in your shoes in the first place. I would have died before I submitted. But you gave in and now you're going to offer me your damn throat and tell me how sorry you are for trying to attack your damn master.” He bares his fangs. “If you don't, you're going to spend the night hanging from your ankles.”
Jazz narrows his eyes at Seth's rebuke. God knew, Jazz would have died too, had it not been for his siblings. His death would destroy them. And he still has hope to one day escape this hell hole. So he’ll do what he has to to get back to Jared and Janel.
Closing his eyes, he leans against the wall Seth has him backed against. With one curt nod, he turns his head to the side, offering his neck. When Seth chuckles, Jazz’s whole body goes tense, consumed in morbid anticipation. He’s been bitten by vampire’s before. And their effect on him varied greatly. He’d had a particularly interesting reaction to a female vamp he’d tangled with a few months back. He hopes like hell his response will be different with Seth.
Jazz sucks in a shallow breath and holds it. “I apologize for attacking you.” His jaw ticks wildly as he forces out the next words. “Take my vein. I offer it to you... freely.”
Seth strikes without delay, drawing hard and fast. Like he was starving or some shit. Utterly parched.
Jazz jerks, his entire body on fire. Anxiously, he grips the vampire's sides, trying to find his bearings. Muscles locked up tight, he's barely able to breathe as the dark lord feasts from his neck. At first, the pain is excruciating. The way Seth had torn into his flesh. Jazz had thought his legs were gonna give out. But now, as the vampire's warm tongue strokes against Jazz’s skin, Jazz's brain shifts from pain to abject pleasure. Just morphs the fuck out from agony to bliss.
The abrupt change, and unexpected onslaught, has Jazz nearly cursing in alarm. His fingers grip tighter as his jaw clenches wildly. Even his eyes struggle not to roll back. Fuck. His body… it was reacting exactly as it had to that other vampire. So good...
No! Jazz twitches with a start. He can’t enjoy this. And then his mind begins to falter. In the back of his brain, he feels Seth pull out. He’d actually groans at the departure! Which Seth clearly takes amusement in. The bastard. And now, as Seth purrs in his ear, Jazz can’t seem to stop his body from shivering. He must be cold from blood loss. Yeah, that’s it, and completely drained of energy.
Seth growls and lazily laps at Jazz’s wounds as he holds Jazz’s weakened body in his arms. “What is that I feel?” he murmurs. “Are you happy to see me, boy, or are you holding another poker against my leg?” He laughs against Jazz’s ear.
With a shallow breath, Jazz slurs a response. “Fuck you... vampire...”
Seth just grins. “Don't offer what you cannot give me, little angel,” he purrs. Abruptly, he releasing Jazz. Jazz nearly falls at the lack of support. Seth smirks and moves away. “Go back to your room and rest. A servant will bring you a meal. You are to eat it. It will help replenish your energy.” His tongue snakes out and licks his bloodied lips. “And do not be embarrassed. What just passed between us has aroused me, too. Making the innocence fall is always so much fun.”
Behind him, the female servant from before steps forward, a nervous expression on her face. “Do you need help?” she faintly whispers to Jazz.
Eyeing the woman, Jazz braces himself against the wall so he doesn’t fall over. His lungs are still heaving, his heart still pounding like a bongo drum. Half-mast eyes turn to watch Seth head for the door. Jazz frowns, his hand moving to his tender neck wound. What the fuck is with him and vampire bites? This business sure as fuck isn’t going make things any easier.
Absently, he presses the heel of his palm against his bulging fly. His frown deepens as his eyes stay locked on Seth’s departing form.
The woman repeats her question. “Do you need help, sir?”
Jazz blinks down at her. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head. “Um… no. I'm okay. I just need to rest for a few.”
Seth turns to look at him, pausing in the doorway. Their stares linger, tension-laced and uncomfortable. And then the vampire is gone.
Jazz slides down the wall. Face in his hands, he groans. What is he going to do? “Fuck… me...”
Seth watches from the shadows as the servant moves towards Jazz.
“Let me help you,” she beseeches softly, helping him stand. Inhumanly strong, she helps him from the room, her steps nice and slow for his sake. Inside his room, she gently lays him on the bed. “I will bring you some blood stew, and before you worry, it's stew cooked with animals’ meat. It will help your energy,” she smiles, “and is a specialty of the cook.” She brushes his bangs tenderly from his eyes.
Jazz eyes her incredulously. “I think I’ll pass.”
“Please. There is no human or other meat in it,” she assures with a frown. “I implore you. Do not argue. The master will not like it.” Turning, she leaves him to rest as she heads to the kitchens to get food.
Seth smirks. Despite what she’d just told the angel, she’s been instructed to add something ‘special’ of Seth’s to all of Jazz’s food and drink. His blood, ensuring Jazz’s swift and irrevocable addiction. And while Seth is certain the servant would like to help Seth’s captive, in the end she will always choose to preserve her own hide.
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