Chapter 1

There were hands upon his body.

They glided over his shoulders, clawed at his back, groped between his legs. He tilted his head back and gasped, his open mouth almost immediately captured by rough lips and his gasp was cut short by a long, thin, forked tongue twinning into his mouth, flicking against the sensitive roof of his palate and making him shiver.

He didn’t know who touched him, couldn’t make out familiar faces in his lust haze. All that mattered was the bodies the pressed against him, the hands that stroked over his skin. They were blissfully warm and he pressed back against them, loving the feel of them against his body. He felt a clawed hand catch in the chain about his waist and he stared down, surprised that he still wore any of his clothes. But yes, the chain that threaded through the flimsy fabric that did more to highlight his most private of areas rather then cover it still glittered gold against his too pale skin.

He watched as a black taloned finger caught it, jerking him up out of the nest of arms and against a firm body. He let his head loll back as he pressed his palms against the muscled humanoid chest. Slitted eyes stared down at him, fangs peeking out between black lips as a forked tongue flickered out, tasting his scent.

 Hands were at his back, peeling off the fabric clinging to his legs. He let his hands slid down the strong chest, marveling at the smoothness of the scales that started at the creature’s hips. He became fascinated by the way the light shone off the smooth scales, making them look wet.

But they were anything but wet.

Lips touched the back of his legs and he arched and groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. More lips touched his body, first his shoulder and then there was a tongue tracing the sharp angles of his hip. He twisted languidly in the hold, pressing against the hard sheath of the creature in front of him. The demon hissed, pressing against him harder, grinding the front of their bodies together.

Fingers brushed over the inside of his leg and his eyes blinked open in confusion at the small ache the feeling evoked. He shifted his weight, trying to move away from the touch and it relented, allowing him to escape. The creature before him captured his attention by bowing its head and latching onto his neck with its powerful jaws. Fangs brushed over his neck but did not bite down. The long thin tongue curled down over his neck to tease the hollow of his collar and he gasped, gripping the strong shoulders.

Talons burned over his skin as they scrapped at his oversensitive flesh. The hot mouths licking and nipping at his hips and legs drove what little thought he had left from his mind and he pushed himself up against the scaled body before him, moving languidly against it. He thought he heard laughter but he was too caught up in trying to satisfy the demanding desires within him to give any thought to anything but those that gave him pleasure.

A mouth suddenly latched onto his inner thigh, sucking hard. A burst of pleasure shot through him and he cried out, his legs losing their strength. He caught at the strong being before him as he fell and hands slowed his fall, bearing him backwards. The floor that touched his back was cold and he hissed in displeasure. But the warm bodies pressed against his from above and drove all thought of the cold from him. The mouth was back against his inner thigh and he arched his back, groaning as they sucked on the ache there. The sensation threatened to bring a bit of sanity to him but he pushed it away. The ache meant something, he was sure of it, but all that mattered right now was finding relief for the liquid desire that coursed through his veins.

He writhed against those holding him down sensually, suckling obediently at the finger that slipped into his open mouth. He sucked as the finger crooked, pressed down on his tongue. From somewhere above him he heard a hiss. The finger withdrew and he pouted but it was replaced with a pair of lips and an insistent tongue that demanded entrance to his mouth.

There was a yelp and the pressure on the inside of his leg was suddenly gone, making the ache lessen though the spot throbbed. It reminded him of something and he pulled away from the demanding kiss, staring over a broad shoulder as he tried to remember why the inside of his leg throbbed.

He was aware of his legs being pushed up to his shoulders and he watched with wide eyes as the creature slithered between them. Red eyes bored into his as the creature positioned itself before him, dark claws digging into his skin as the creature forced his hips up.

Something hot pressed against his opening and he let his head fall back, crying out as the creature split him open. It felt so good that he pushed back against the invading organ, loving the way it forced his passage to part. The burning hardness inched into him farther with each shallow thrust the creature made. It felt so good he hoped it would go on forever and when the creature’s scaled body bumped against his he frowned, pushing hard against the scaled hips in the hopes that there was some little bit that hadn’t been forced into him.

There was laughter from all around and he stared at the gathering in confusion, his muddled mind unable to comprehend who they were or why they were watching him.

Hands pressed against the backs of his thighs and he keened as the creature pulled out of him. He stared up at the painfully beautiful face, pleading with his eyes and the creature’s crimson lips parted, baring sharp fangs as it chuckled. He felt the creature shift and heard the hiss of scales on the floor as the long serpentine tail coiled underneath the creature.

A long split tongue slipped between the creature’s lips and he turned his face away, wincing as it flickered against his face.

More laughter and the creature thrust forward, splitting him open again and making him cry out.

There were no more pauses just a constant battering invasion and he clung to the creature’s wrists as it laid claim to his body. The organ driving in and out of him was different then a man’s and it rubbed against him strangely, making him shiver and gasp as the slightly downturned head pressed firmly against his pleasure center.

He felt the tension building in his stomach and he arched his back, trying to direct where the creature’s cock battered him inside. The tension built, becoming almost an itch as it spread up into his chest. His jaw tightened and he pressed his eyes closed as the pleasure became so sharp it was almost painful.

And then the creature twisted inside of him funny and arched off the ground, screaming his release to the audience.

**

“Come on now, lazy one, your master calls.”

Dual colored eyes cracked open, staring blankly for a long while before the man groaned and buried his face in his arm.

Soft laughter drifted down and the man groaned as a strong hand closed about his shoulder, shaking him roughly. “Now, Syan.”

Groaning to make his annoyance known, Syan obeyed, pushing himself up onto shaky arms. He peered around the room, noting it was mostly empty. Though he did not recall much during his performance he knew the room had been full. Sighing, he pulled his legs up underneath him, wincing at the pain on his inner thigh. He spared a moment to peer down at it, his fingers carefully pull the muscle taunt. There, upon his nearly bloodless skin, was a pair of dark, angry red puncture wounds.

He sighed again, releasing his leg so that he could focus on standing. A hand caught his forearm and helped him to his feet. He was grateful for it when his legs wobbled and he almost fell. He felt something crack on his skin and he winced, resisting the urge to stare down at himself. He knew he was a mess.

Instead he peered up at the man at his side.

Zagan towered over him, nearly dwarfing him with his size. The man was a full head and shoulders taller then he and twice as wide. With skin so dark it was honest to god black he made quite a sight, even without the thick platinum rings that pierced his nipples and stood out obscenely bright against the dark skin.  His thick hair was a shocking white and leant him a savage appearance as it ran down the center of his head. Initially Syan had thought the thick white hair fashioned in a bristly mohawk with the help of an intractably carved wooden clip would be stiff but he had been wrong. He knew from personal experience that it was as soft as his own.

Once he had his feet firmly underneath him, Zagan released his arm and turned away, stalking towards the great doorway. His heeled boots, fashioned from hinged metal, rang against the stone floor. They were shaped to mimic hooves, a play on the man’s name and not for the first time Syan wondered if Zagan had been the man’s name before he had been brought into their master’s household or if it had been given to him at his arrival.

His stomach growled and Syan forced his body to move.

Though his footfalls were silent as they moved from the public greeting rooms to the private inner chambers Zagan never once glanced back to see if he was being followed. And why should he, Syan mused. There was nowhere for him to go. Nowhere for him to escape their master’s wrath should he disobey.

Not for the first time he felt the weight of years weigh down upon him. Unconsciously his shoulders slumped and he stared at the floor, unmoved by the wonders that each room contained. He knew them all by heart. Indeed, he often counted himself as nothing more than one of the treasured trinkets Janus, his master, had collected over the years.

A lock of hair that had been pulled free of the thick braid that slithered over his back dangled in his face and he tugged on it absently, peering up through the auburn strand at the broad back of the man before him.

An intricate pattern had been painted upon Zagan’s dark skin, the silvery white paint forming a design made up of sharp angles and even sharper points. His hand drifted to his shoulder where he knew a similar pattern resided on his own body. But unlike Zagan’s painted symbol his was pure tattoo.

It was their master, Janus’s mark. It told everyone who saw it that they were dealing with one of the vampire-lord’s possessions.

It was a warning.

There were only a few of them who bared the full back mark. It was what all those who crowded around their master hoped to obtain. In a world where the vampire-lords ruled to be claimed by one as part of their inner circle was the highest one who was not an ancient could hope to obtain.

It was certainly the highest a mere human could go.

Syan tugged again at his hair, glancing at himself in one of the many mirrors that lined the walls. His hair was a wild halo about his face, his braid having failed at containing the long strands in the face of his . . . activities. His eyes were wide, his pupils a bit too large for the light. Still, a ring of blue was bright about his left pupil and a ring of green simmering over his right. It was a shocking combination and it was what had irrevocably changed his fate. The moment he had stepped into a room, sent by his Lord’s steward to see to the comfort of a visiting Lord and had met the man’s gaze his life had ceased to be his own.

For a moment he was trapped in memory and he paused, shivering as he felt the ghost of hands upon his face, capturing his chin and forcing his face up to meet the visiting lord’s. He had caught glimpses of the man upon his arrival and knew the Lord Janus was handsome but he had missed the man’s piercing amber gaze. He felt insistent fingers pressing into the corners of his eyes, forcing him to keep them open as the man studied the strange combination. He had often had to suffer through inspection of his strange dual colored eyes but this, this was different. This was more . . . intimate.

“Syan!”

He shook himself, blinking at his reflection as he came back to the present. Bowing his head sheepishly he hurried to where Zagan waited, holding a door open for him.

He didn’t miss the snort as he pushed past the larger man and into the bathing hall. A pair of servants was waiting for him and he allowed them to tug him here and there, scrubbing his body clean and massaging scented oils into his skin so that he would smell as alluring as Janus seemed to think he looked.

Food was brought to him and he devoured it like a glutton, savoring the morsels. His nearly thousand years as Janus’s toy had left him as something other than human and his appetite often suffered for it.  He no longer needed food to survive as long as he received an infusion of Janus’s blood. However, eating had been one of his guilty pleasures and whenever his humanity reared its head long enough for him to find pleasure in food he indulged it.

He was licking the last bit of sauce from his fingers when Zagan returned, his dark eyes rolling as Syan exaggerated his laziness by rolling onto his back and peering up at the frustrated task-master through half lidded eyes.

Zagan prodded him with the toe of his boot, forcing him to roll over and get up.

“The Master will take you in his private study.” The words came, carried by a deep almost bored voice.

Syan tugged at his braid, watched the servants dig through his clothing chest for some particular item. “Oh I just bet he will.” He murmured.

A bright blossom of pain across his back registered even before the loud crack that sent the servants shrinking back, their startled eyes wide as they stared.

Syan grit his teeth against the burning pain, his hands fisted at his sides as he let the pain flow through him.

“You will watch your tone.” Came the growled warning.

Syan turned, glaring at the dark man behind him before bowing his head in acknowledgment over his task-master’s words.

Zagan watched him with narrowed eyes as he ran the unfurled whip through his hands. “I do not know what is with you lately,” The man mused, turning his attention to the braided leather that threaded through his fingers, “Surely you are not becoming . . . ungrateful for what the Master has given you.”

Syan turned away when Zagan’s piercing gaze lifted to his face and kept his silence.

A servant bustled forward, a damp rag in his hand but Zagan shook his head. “Leave it.” The task-master demanded when she lifted it to his back.

Syan rolled his shoulders as he stepped into the pants another of his servants held out for him. He felt the unmistakable tingle as blood trickled down his back and bit back a sigh.

“Come.”

Syan rolled his eyes at Zagan’s back as he followed the man’s lead. He knew his way to Janus’s private study but the man insisted on leading him around, as though he were some vapid love-sick fool who needed to be shown the way to his lover’s side.

He paused, waiting as Zagan tapped the butt of the whip upon the closed door, his gaze sliding around the waiting room. Only the truly privileged and the foolish dared to seek an audience with the vampire lord in his private study and so the waiting area outside was usually empty. Only three people occupied the room and all except one ignored him.

Syan frowned as a pair of red eyes met his. The piercing eyes were set in a painfully beautiful face and, to his annoyance, he felt a sense of wonder as his eyes settled upon the creature. The creature’s skin was so white it drew the attention to the full crimson lips. Long black hair hung in thick waves about the creature’s shoulders,  fanning out over a broad chest. A black talon traced lazy patterns over the perfectly chiseled stomach, drawing his attention to it. The finger slipped down farther, ghosting over the seam where the pale flesh ended and emerald scales began. Each scale was colored in a sunburst pattern making the long serpentine tail a study of every shade of green.

The creature’s hand dropped lower still and Syan was helpless to stop following it. He watched as it skimmed over a small rise and when the fingers dipped into the sheath he caught a glimpse of crimson flesh as the creature shifted, reminding him of just what had split him over again and again on the floor of their master’s audience chamber.

Gasping Syan tore his gaze away, scowling as he heard the hissing laughter and felt the flush creep up his neck.

Though he heard the hiss of scales against the floor Syan refused to turn his attention from the closed door. He stared at it until his eyes burned, wondering what was taking so long.

When it finally opened he practically flung himself into the study, nearly tripping over the man responsible for opening it.

“Sorry.” He murmured, feeling the flush returning as he hurried past the man and into the safety of the room.

He heard Zagan’s slow steps as the other followed him in but he was too interested in searching the room for the one who had summoned him to pay much attention.

Janus’s eyes were suited for the darkness and sometimes the vampire lord forgot that humans needed light to see. Today, it seemed, was such a case for Syan had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the dim light in the room before he could really begin his search.

There was no one seated behind the massive desk so he turned his attention to the windowed alcove where his master occasionally sat with guests. But that too was empty. Finally he turned his attention to the left where tall book cases towered over the room. They were filled with books, real books that his master had collected over the years.

And there, seated in the shadow of the towering cases, was the man he sought.

He moved towards the man on cautious feet, his attention focused on the man’s face to try to catch any glimpse as to the vampire lord’s mood.

Janus’s square jaw was tight and there were lines at the corners of his eyes, speaking of tension coursing through the vampire. His golden eyes were fixed on the book in his lap but they did not move to follow the lines of text. Instead they were focused on one point.

In thought then, Syan mused as he moved to the vampire’s side, gently reaching out to lay his hand upon his Master’s wrist as he knelt at his side.

For a long moment the vampire gave no indication that he was aware of his favored slave’s presence but suddenly the broad chest lifted as the vampire breathed. The breath left him in a gust and Syan dipped his head, shivering as the scent of warm herbs surrounded him. He did not know why vampires smelled so but they did. Janus smelled of cloves and cinnamon and Syan resisted the urge to rub against the other man, to make the stronger male’s scent cling to his skin.

“Why are you bleeding?”

Syan dipped his head to hide his scowl as Zagan stepped up behind him, bowing to their master.

“Forgive me, my lord, but his tone was unacceptable.”

Syan peered up through his lashes as the vampire lord shifted, crossing one leg over the other as he set the book aside and peered down at him.

“Surely we are not going to be difficult so soon after your last . . . correcting, are we?”

He pursed his lips together, dipping his chin even as he lifted his gaze to the man staring down at him.

“You gave me to Sheshar.” He accused, putting his frustration in his gaze.

A black brow lifted as the vampire studied him.

“You know how I hate him!” Syan snapped, gasping and shrinking back as the vampire caught his chin, jerking him up high on his knees.

“It amused me to give you to him. You have no say in the matter, Syan.” Janus replied, his golden gaze almost amused.

The amusement he saw there made Syan grit his teeth as anger flowed through him. “Do not call me that!” He shrieked, flailing as he tried to free himself from the vampire’s grasp.

He heard footsteps rushing up behind him but he did not care as he grasped at the hand holding him, trying desperately to free himself. He managed to slip free and he scrambled back, shrieking as hands caught at him. He struck out blindly, hearing a curse as his hooked fingers clawed into soft flesh but he could not match the strength of his master’s servants and he was soon born to the ground. He sobbed as a foot was pressed to the back of his neck, pushing his face to the cold stone. Harsh hands grasped his arms, twisting them behind his back.

His captors held him there for a long while, his hiccupping sobs slowly turning into a rattling deep in his chest as he cried out his frustration.

The foot left the back of his neck as hands loosened his braid and he pinched his eyes closed as fingers gently played in his hair.

When the sobs had finally ceased strong arms wrapped about him, lifting him up and settling him on a cool lap. He pressed his face against soft clothe as the scent of cloves and cinnamon soothed him and his master murmured nonsense words to him in a language long gone from the world.