Thomas's Choice
Page 33
“Now kill it!” Keegan ordered as a bolt of white light shot from his fingers and hit the vampire’s head.
Like a marionette, the vampire reached for his knife and aimed it at the child. His struggle was evident in his distorted face, the way he clenched his teeth, and the shaking of his arm as he tried to pull it back while an invisible hand drove it ever closer to the baby’s throat.
The baby’s cry was cut off a split second after it started. Then the tiny head fell onto the floor with a loud thud, the wails of its dying mother accompanying it.
Thomas felt a shiver as cold as ice crawling over his back and spreading over his entire body.
He rose to his feet and stared at Kasper.
“You’re evil, Kasper. Truly evil. I won’t have anything more to do with you!”
Kasper expelled a bitter laugh. “You have no choice! I made you! You’re just like me! You have the same power running in your veins.”
“I don’t want that power! I never asked for it!”
“It doesn’t matter. You have it and you can’t give it back.”
Thomas shook his head. “I won’t use it!” He turned on his heels and ran out of the room, Kasper’s voice chasing him.
“You’ll come back! The power is stronger than you! You won’t be able to resist using it.”
As Thomas rushed up the stairs and into his room to toss a few belongings into a suitcase, the horror of what he’d seen chilled his blood. No, he’d never be like Kasper. He’d rather die.
15
Thomas set the tin with the used oil he’d drained from the Ducati onto the edge of the workbench in his garage and bent down to pick up the screwdriver, when the earth underneath his feet started shaking. Instinctively, his hands searched for support to steady himself and ride out the earthquake. Tools and various containers rattled on the metal shelves along the garage, and the house moaned as the waves of the quake caused it to move.
Tools started falling from the open shelves and Thomas ducked, avoiding a falling wrench, and hitting his back on the leg of the workbench. The tin with oil he’d placed on it only moments earlier tipped over. Thomas dove away, but wasn’t fast enough and the contents spilled over his T-shirt and the front of his jeans.
“Fuck!” he hissed as he felt the oil soak through his T-shirt.
Suddenly, the shaking stopped and all went quiet again. Thomas perused the garage. No major damage thanks to the fact that all the shelves were bolted to the wall and floor. He looked down at himself. No damage, except for his stained clothes. Shit, the stuff stank! He lifted himself up from the floor and instantly pulled the T-shirt over his head, careful that the oil didn’t touch his head.
He tossed the shirt in the laundry sink and turned on the faucet while he popped the button of his pants open, lowered the zipper and rid himself of his jeans. It joined the T-shirt in the sink a moment later. At least the oil hadn’t soaked through to his boxer briefs yet.
Thomas held his hands under the flowing water. The old faucet sputtered, and water splashed over his torso, washing away the drops of oil that had seeped through his T-shirt. A sound from the stairs made him whip his head to the side.
Long jeans-clad legs appeared from the stairs. “Everything all right? Fuck, that was a big one! Have you ever been though a big one like that?”
Eddie came into view just as Thomas felt the water run down his chest and soak his boxer briefs. It was too late to grab a towel: within seconds the soft white fabric was soaked and practically transparent.
Eddie froze at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes running over Thomas’s virtually-naked body, and it was all it took for Thomas to get hard. Eddie’s mouth dropped open, but his gaze was still focused on Thomas’s groin. His Adam’s apple moved. A hitched breath rolled over Eddie’s lips.
Thomas felt more blood pump into his cock, which now stretched the fabric farther away from his body, tenting his boxer briefs. From the corner of his eye, he saw the towel that hung next to the sink, yet he couldn’t bring himself to reach for it and wrap it around his lower body.
As long as Eddie stared at him without uttering a word, he felt frozen, like a statue unable to move. He didn’t want to break the spell, because Eddie’s eyes drinking him in made his heart beat in a frantic rhythm. He wanted to prolong this feeling, even though he wasn’t sure what this was: was Eddie merely shocked at seeing him half-naked in the garage? Or did the sight excite him?
Only a day ago, he’d threatened Eddie that he would take what he wanted should Eddie ever touch him again. Maybe he should have warned him that if he ever looked at him like this, the same threat applied. Because at this moment, Thomas was ready to pounce on him, drag him to the floor and rip his clothes off him before he buried himself deep in Eddie’s body and rode him until they both climaxed.
Like a marionette, the vampire reached for his knife and aimed it at the child. His struggle was evident in his distorted face, the way he clenched his teeth, and the shaking of his arm as he tried to pull it back while an invisible hand drove it ever closer to the baby’s throat.
The baby’s cry was cut off a split second after it started. Then the tiny head fell onto the floor with a loud thud, the wails of its dying mother accompanying it.
Thomas felt a shiver as cold as ice crawling over his back and spreading over his entire body.
He rose to his feet and stared at Kasper.
“You’re evil, Kasper. Truly evil. I won’t have anything more to do with you!”
Kasper expelled a bitter laugh. “You have no choice! I made you! You’re just like me! You have the same power running in your veins.”
“I don’t want that power! I never asked for it!”
“It doesn’t matter. You have it and you can’t give it back.”
Thomas shook his head. “I won’t use it!” He turned on his heels and ran out of the room, Kasper’s voice chasing him.
“You’ll come back! The power is stronger than you! You won’t be able to resist using it.”
As Thomas rushed up the stairs and into his room to toss a few belongings into a suitcase, the horror of what he’d seen chilled his blood. No, he’d never be like Kasper. He’d rather die.
15
Thomas set the tin with the used oil he’d drained from the Ducati onto the edge of the workbench in his garage and bent down to pick up the screwdriver, when the earth underneath his feet started shaking. Instinctively, his hands searched for support to steady himself and ride out the earthquake. Tools and various containers rattled on the metal shelves along the garage, and the house moaned as the waves of the quake caused it to move.
Tools started falling from the open shelves and Thomas ducked, avoiding a falling wrench, and hitting his back on the leg of the workbench. The tin with oil he’d placed on it only moments earlier tipped over. Thomas dove away, but wasn’t fast enough and the contents spilled over his T-shirt and the front of his jeans.
“Fuck!” he hissed as he felt the oil soak through his T-shirt.
Suddenly, the shaking stopped and all went quiet again. Thomas perused the garage. No major damage thanks to the fact that all the shelves were bolted to the wall and floor. He looked down at himself. No damage, except for his stained clothes. Shit, the stuff stank! He lifted himself up from the floor and instantly pulled the T-shirt over his head, careful that the oil didn’t touch his head.
He tossed the shirt in the laundry sink and turned on the faucet while he popped the button of his pants open, lowered the zipper and rid himself of his jeans. It joined the T-shirt in the sink a moment later. At least the oil hadn’t soaked through to his boxer briefs yet.
Thomas held his hands under the flowing water. The old faucet sputtered, and water splashed over his torso, washing away the drops of oil that had seeped through his T-shirt. A sound from the stairs made him whip his head to the side.
Long jeans-clad legs appeared from the stairs. “Everything all right? Fuck, that was a big one! Have you ever been though a big one like that?”
Eddie came into view just as Thomas felt the water run down his chest and soak his boxer briefs. It was too late to grab a towel: within seconds the soft white fabric was soaked and practically transparent.
Eddie froze at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes running over Thomas’s virtually-naked body, and it was all it took for Thomas to get hard. Eddie’s mouth dropped open, but his gaze was still focused on Thomas’s groin. His Adam’s apple moved. A hitched breath rolled over Eddie’s lips.
Thomas felt more blood pump into his cock, which now stretched the fabric farther away from his body, tenting his boxer briefs. From the corner of his eye, he saw the towel that hung next to the sink, yet he couldn’t bring himself to reach for it and wrap it around his lower body.
As long as Eddie stared at him without uttering a word, he felt frozen, like a statue unable to move. He didn’t want to break the spell, because Eddie’s eyes drinking him in made his heart beat in a frantic rhythm. He wanted to prolong this feeling, even though he wasn’t sure what this was: was Eddie merely shocked at seeing him half-naked in the garage? Or did the sight excite him?
Only a day ago, he’d threatened Eddie that he would take what he wanted should Eddie ever touch him again. Maybe he should have warned him that if he ever looked at him like this, the same threat applied. Because at this moment, Thomas was ready to pounce on him, drag him to the floor and rip his clothes off him before he buried himself deep in Eddie’s body and rode him until they both climaxed.
