Tasting Andrew

Victor’s house

My house was quiet now and I had settled back into my upstairs bedroom sexually satisfied and my hunger quenched with the hard fucking and feeding that I had unleashed upon DJ after Andrew had left us. He left feeling drained but satisfied in his own way.

Soon afterwards, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Becca and she wondered if we could chat. She sounded extremely upset and I could not refuse her. Becca was my graduate assistant and a very smart, talented young lady. I had become a mentor and trusted friend as we had worked closely together since meeting last spring. Becca was not one to be arbitrary when asking for my advice so I took this text seriously. I called her.

After about ten minutes of her venting about a fellow cast member in the production of DRACULA in which she had become involved. This boy had been rather handsy with several of the female cast members, but had recently focused his harassment toward Becca. She was distraught about the experience to the point that she wanted to drop out of the show. I gently nudged her to think about all of the good that had come from the experience and urged her not to give into this wretched excuse for a man. My reasoning seemed to reassure Becca and our discussion turned to more mundane items after I promised to attend her opening night performance. Becca’s big heart then turned to her concern for me. She had even noticed my withdrawn and solemn attitude lately.

“I worry about you, Professor Browning,” remarked Becca with deep concern. “You see to be lonely. Someone as caring as you needs to have some one caring for you. He is bound to be out there.” Becca had suspected my sexual preference and had explained that “who was she to decide who someone loves.”

“I hope you are correct, Becca,” I agreed as the conversation was ending and I heard a sleepy yawn on the other side of the connection. “It is late and you have a big week ahead. Goodnight, Becca.”

“Goodnight, Professor Browning. Sweet dreams,” Becca added as we finished our conversation with the accomplished mission of easing her mind.

I now sat on the edge of my bed observing the artifacts that I had collected through my long life including the painting of Andrei. Each item was empowered with some event and definitely with some lover or friend during my past thousand years. I realized that my collection had ceased with my addition of the autographed copy of Carl’s book which he had given me shortly before his death nearly twenty years ago.

For the past few decades, I had playmates, but not really had encountered a soulmate. Recently, DJ was a friend and both of us were happy with that arrangement. Paul, the rough- hewn building contractor, was mostly an acquaintance nonetheless but an enjoyable one. But beyond our raw and intense encounters, we did not cross paths. And now there is Andrew. My path crossing with this intense and gifted young man had shaken my world, but the complications between us was much more than with the married DJ or the closeted Paul. That was not to say that I would not like to taste the boy and drink deeply from him, but Andrew had triggered something in me beyond lust and hunger.

My eyes had roamed across the room with its floor to ceiling bookshelves and I spied the ornate wooden box that I had found on my travels to India. I retrieved the box from the shelf and carefully opened it to reveal the silver roaring tiger pendant which Yagna had gifted me. I had not worn this pendant in decades, actually not since the end of the Second World War and the truce enacted between the slayers and the vampires. I felt those days of being some heroic figure were best to be put behind me and I had placed the pendant away until its symbolism would be more fitting with my circumstances.

A chill passed through the room which was not from the falling temperatures of this late October evening. I was realizing that forces were at play that I could no longer deny and a storm had been gathering since I walked out of Carl’s home under the cloudless azure sky of that fateful September morning nearly twenty years ago. The same blue that looked at me from the sapphire eyes of the silver tiger’s head. I placed the pendant around my neck as I wished that I had Yagna by my side as I faced these challenges that were sure to find us all. I wished that I had anyone by my side. Becca’s observation was correct. I was lonely.

I burrowed into the comforter on my bed and dozed off immediately slipping into a dream.

A man stood leaning against the railing of a bridge overlooking a lake reflecting the light of the full moon and the stars. I approached not stealthily as if stalking prey but with my normal gait leaving my footfalls on the wooden bridge echoing in the night. The man did not acknowledge my approach. He struck a handsome silhouette as he leaned his beefy frame against the rail. My heart steadily beat but there was a stir in my spirit as I approached him.

I stood in silence then spoke. “Who are you waiting for?” I had uttered these words many times across the centuries as my vampiric seduction line. But my words did not have any hunger or erotic foreplay in their tone. I genuinely had asked this stranger for whom was he patiently, yet forlornly waiting.

The man replied without turning his gaze to me. “I am waiting for a friend, but I don’t think that he is coming back.” The sorrowness of the words struck me then he turned his face toward me and I looked deep into his steel gray eyes and his face that showed maturity and commanded power and respect.

“Who are you waiting for?” he asked genuinely as I had asked of him.

His words struck me as I expressed out loud the gnawing doubt inside me. “I don’t know.”

I awoke at those words, startled but intrigued. Who was this man? Was he a specter of the past or someone in my future? I had experienced two very powerful dreams since my first encounter with Andrew when these only rarely had ever occurred in the past. I closed my eyes to steady myself and to center myself for the day and the coming week’s activities as the early yellow rays of an October dawn crept into my window.

The Birmingham Museum of Art, Alabama

Jeremiah strolled through the galleries of the museum’s expansive collection in search of his intended appointment. He knew exactly where he would find her but he decided to get to the museum early to take in some of his favorite pieces. The past few days had finally pushed Jeremiah into requesting this meeting with Evangeline to share with her what his discussions with Jason had uncovered. Jeremiah was much relieved but also somewhat alarmed that Evangeline was already in states and that she was so nearby. Had the conditions become truly so disturbing that one of the Council’s most respected vampire members had moved herself into Alabama of all places. Interesting. And to add to the mystery, Evangeline had insisted that the meeting should occur in a public place.

Jeremiah rounded the hallway and then stood at the doorway to the gallery where their appointment had been arranged and he was not disappointed. Evangeline stood before Georges Merle’s massive painting THE SORCERESS which dominated the wall of the wood-paneled gallery. The painting depicted a crouching raven-haired beauty surrounded by the talismans and tools of her magic-making and dressed in a flowing white and gold robe. Her ebony eyes staring a challenge at the viewer. Evangeline, a modern version of woman in the painting stood with her back to the door accompanied by a tall young man of Slavic features. His curly hair was as black as hers. They held hands tightly as Evangeline leaned in to share some private conversation with the attentive young man. Jeremiah hated to intrude on what was surely a very intimate moment, but duty called.

“You know, Monsieur Merle, really never could properly capture your full beauty, Evie” spoke Jeremiah striking a mischievous pose at the doorway shattering the serene atmosphere. Immediately, the young man swung into a defensive posture at Jeremiah’s intrusion. The young man’s eyes blazing and his muscle taut and ready to protect against any threat to Evie.

“Jeremiah!” Evie almost squealed in glee as she skipped toward him. With the pronouncement of Jeremiah’s name, the young man appeared to relax, but just a little. Evie tackled Jeremiah in a hug which seemed so very inappropriate for such an esteemed member of the Council, but Jeremiah’s good nature and humor always solicited this typical response from those who counted him as a friend. Evie kissed Jeremiah on his cheeks in true European fashion and drug him toward the watchful young man who had yet to fully relax and let alone smile.

“Jeremiah, I want you to meet Adam Simatovic,” introduced Evie. Jeremiah extended his hand in a friendly gesture and Adam took Jeremiah’s hand firmly in his with a firm but not challenging gesture as they looked each other in the eyes. Jeremiah sensed Adam’s sincere concern and affection for Evie but also a regimented sense of duty.

“I am pleased to meet you, Adam,” greeted Jeremiah and he turned his attention to Evie with a teasing tone. “You have picked out a nice one with this lad, Evie, but dating a Slayer?”

“Enforcer,” corrected Adam firmly, but also with a tinge of embarrassment that he and Evie’s relationship had been exposed so easily. “We are called Enforcers now. I am very happy to meet you, Jeremiah. Evie has spoken very highly of you.”

Evie leaned over to Adam and whispered in his ear and then kissed his cheek. The young man nodded and then assumed a watchful stance near the doorway into the gallery.

“He is quite a stunning young fellow,” remarked Jeremiah. “And he is completely infatuated with you, Evie. Does he have a gay brother?”

Evie giggled and shook her head. “You are unbelievable, Monsieur Greene.”

“That is what all the boys say about me,” chuckled Jeremiah flashing his trademark grin. Jeremiah turned his eyes to the dutiful Adam who seemed coiled like a snake ready to strike at any threat. “But he is more than just your lover?”

“Yes, he is my security,” added Evie suddenly taking on a tone of seriousness. Evie was a good two centuries older than Jeremiah and for her to feel threatened after such a long life, then something truly serious was in the mix. That thought quickly changed gears to a more serious tone for Jeremiah.

“You have news to share, Jeremiah?” inquired Evie getting right to the heart of the matter of this meeting.

“Yes,” began Jeremiah and provided a summary of all that transpired since their last correspondence concerning the rash of attacks. The most recent victim, the sheriff’s deputy Rick, had confirmed that this was not the work of some rogue vampire, but had motive behind it.

“I have become acquainted with a close friend of the deputy,” continued Jeremiah laying the groundwork for his theory. “His name is Jason and he has some talent. We have been exploring some of his nightmares and occasional dreams as I have taken him on as a client.”

“Talent?” inquired Evie.

“He knew what I was even before I approached him,” explained Jeremiah. “He senses things and his dreams have provided me some insight into this situation. This vampire is league with some kind of white supremacist, neo-Nazi, or some such nonsense. Jason sensed Rick was involved in investigating exactly what this group or possibly even groups is planning. And that is what got him crossways with our suspect vampire.”

“Or vampires,” added Evie almost with a fearful hiss. Jeremiah noted her tone immediately and decided that Evie had as much to share as he had.

“Only Whispers and rumors, possibly, up until now,” explained Evie. “But pieces are beginning to fall into place, Jeremiah, that some fringe elements who have been grumbling for some time about the truce are stretching out their talons. I am not just talking about vampires, but also among the slayers.” Evie used the term this time not as a slip of an old habit but to make a point that not all of former slayers had embraced new order of “enforcers” which now counted both vampires and non-vampires among their ranks.

Jeremiah snickered at the thought that there were those willing to destroy the truce and ally themselves with the forces so similar to the ghosts of a violent past who had been handily defeated and until recently were regarded as buffoons.

“So, a vampire who craves the old days of carnage has hooked with a bunch of Billy Joe Bubbas to get stinking drunk and wave a bunch of rebel flags and swastikas,” joked Jeremiah trying to lighten the darkening mood. Evie eyed him anxiously. “That should be easy enough for the Council to wrangle under control.”

“Don’t you feel the tension?” warned Evie. “Times are changing. What was once a ridiculous display of fringe thinking and crazy conspiracy theories are now becoming normalized and most dangerous- emboldened.”

“This makes sense,” agreed Jeremiah. “And you didn’t pick this place and drag along Adam to just show off your new boyfriend. You’ve been threatened?”

“Subtly, but yes, I have felt threatened, “I can’t go into all that I know, but I feel truly frightened.” Jeremiah turned his attention to Evie’s face and eyes glaring defiantly out of the painting with a look of “don’t fuck with me.” In contrast, Evie now stood before him as a shaken, and terrified woman. Jeremiah had to admit to himself that these days have been dark lately and the cultural and political atmosphere crackled with intensely angry energy. A storm was building not unlike storms that he had weathered several times before in his long vampiric life. Jeremiah finally understood the rather listless attitude of Victor. While Victor had sensed the coming shift in affairs and buried himself in his academic pursuits, Jeremiah had used his humor to mask the inevitable. They had worked so hard and was it all about to unravel? The wounds of the last difficulties were just beginning to heal. Evie gently touched Jeremiah’s shoulder as she realized that the unpleasant realization was taken hold in her trusted ally’s mind.

“It feels like…like,” commented Evie, but she could not bring herself to finish the sentence.

“It feels like Germany, 1933,” said Jeremiah voicing out loud the conclusion that they both realized. The words sent a chill in the air.

“Do you believe in demons, Jeremiah?” Evie suddenly asked. The question had such ramifications. Jeremiah had heard the supposed conspiracy theories that the rise of the Axis Powers much like other such horrible chapters in human history had been the machinations of some pure evil intent. No concrete evidence of such a supernatural force, let alone a manifestation of that force in the form of a creature so called as a demon, had Jeremiah ever encountered. But then again, vampires weren’t supposed to exist either.

Adam looked eagerly in Evie’s direction so as to catch her attention and pointed to his watch.

“Jeremiah, I appreciate all that you have shared with me,” said Evie elegantly attempting to close the conversation. “Stay close to this Jason. He needs us as much as we may need him. I will be in touch as soon as I know more of what this all means. But these times are demanding discretion and caution so I intend to keep this information close to only those who I truly trust on and off the Council.”

“I will contact you immediately if I see or hear anything else,” assured Jeremiah.

“I hate to cut our visit short, but Adam was able to get tickets for us to the opera and our dinner reservations are soon,” apologized Evie.

“Opera in Birmingham, Alabama,” commented Jeremiah with a playful smirk attempting to lighten the mood. “Is it Dolly Parton in Madame Butterfly?”

Evie shook her head and snickered. “No, it is Puccini but with no country singers. My favorite, Turandot.”

“Adam does know that you used to run around with Puccini back in the day?” teased Jeremiah.

“A girl has to have some secrets,” defended Evie playfully. “We could get you a ticket, if you would like to join us.”

“I have to sincerely refuse,” explained Jeremiah. “I need to get back to Mobile and stock up on Halloween candy before all that remains are candy corn and those awful peanut butter taffies. These trick-or-treaters get downright hostile if you don’t have the best candy to pass out.”

Evie laughed and even Adam joined in.

“Drink deep, Jeremiah.” She hugged him and kissed his cheeks.

“Drink deep, Evangeline,” replied Jeremiah. He could sense Evie’s brave front hiding her apprehension of all they had discussed. Jeremiah wanted to take her and Adam in a protective hug and whisk them to safety. But the reality was that safety was quickly becoming an illusion.

Evie strode gracefully to the patiently waiting young man whose face was filled with adoration for her. Jeremiah watched them unite at the doorway and thought to himself of how among all the impending threats, love could still bloom.

“Adam,” Jeremiah called out. “Both of you need to take care of each other.”

“We will,” assured Adam and he waved flashing a bright smile across his face for the first time. And then they were out the doorway and off as a pair of beautiful lovers to enjoy the evening. Jeremiah was alone. He turned to give a final look at the painting of the sorceress who had been inspired by Evangeline. Those defiant, knowing eyes were blazing from the past, but just a few moments ago, those same eyes showed a painful fear.

Riverfront Park, near the university

“Come on, bitch, ride my cowboy dick,” howled Nick viciously as he rammed deep into the potential pledge’s exposed ass. “Give it up for your big brother.” Nick had lured the freshman down to his favorite rutting spot in a very secluded part of the park near the cataracts off the river. The roaring water was drowning out the cries the smaller fellow as Nick fucked him doggie style over a large fallen tree.

It hadn’t taken too much effort to win this prize tonight—just a promise of putting favorable words into the fraternity president to accept him as a pledge and a sixpack of beer. Once the twink was feeling the effects of too many beers and with a little seductive fondling, the boy had fallen right into Nick’s trap. Then it was off to the races as Nick pounded the unfortunate young man as he wore nothing except the cowboy hat which was part of his costume as Quincey in DRACULA.

The boy’s ass was fine, but Nick really had hoped to fucking that stuck-up grad student Becca. He decided that might just be his next conquest. He hadn’t counted on being blocked by that Bosnian prick, Vlad Simatovic. Damn foreigner.

“Why don’t you suck on this, Vlad!” howled Nick into the night as he drove his thick cock deep into the flailing boy’s ass. The boy just whimpered trying to impress his hopefully future fraternity brother with being able to take this abuse.

If he couldn’t have Becca, then maybe his roommate Andrew might do. Nick imagined his roommate as he provided a few hard thrusts and then exploded deep in the potential pledge’s formerly virgin ass. Nick pulled out and then to add insult to injury he pissed on the poor fellow. The boy winced in humiliation as he felt the hot piss spatter across his buttocks and back.

“Now, bitch,” hissed Nick. “Not a word of this to anyone or I will make sure you won’t get into this fraternity or any other. Now, get your sorry pledge ass dressed and get the fuck on home.”

Nick staggered over to retrieve his own clothes. “Oh, and you need to walk back to campus. I just had my car’s interior detailed and I don’t need it covered in piss.” Nick quickly dressed and staggered off into bushes toward the parking lot.

The humiliated young man sat naked on the fallen tree and shuddered in the cool night air. He vomited overwhelmed by the combination of alcohol and the sexual assault. He painfully gathered his clothes and dressed. This was so not what he thought his college experience would be like.

Andrew’s bench on campus

Andrew sat alone on again in his favorite spot taking advantage of the late afternoon light of this late October day to do some sketching. But instead of trees, his hand had filled the page with Joe’s face. Andrew still had sketched some more studies of Victor, but these had taken on a more sedate, almost gentle tone than those first few sketched illustrating Victor’s vampire nature after the haunting initial encounter which now seemed a long time ago, but in reality, was only about a month ago.

Andrew sighed as he examined his latest sketch of his friend Joe. Life was better than he thought it was going to be, but he never imagined it would take these very strange turns. He had a friend with Joe but he also had the emerging relationship with Victor. It had been a few days since their deep conversation outside the auditorium, but they had exchanged texts and even met for a quick lunch in the cafeteria. The sexual tension was still there, but seemed to be secondary. Their relationship seemed to be like having an older brother or even mysterious uncle. Andrew could listen endlessly to Victor’s stories of the people who he had known and the places that he had traveled across during the many centuries of his life.

Andrew’s phone buzzed as it received a text.

“Hrud today?” Andrew grinned as recognized the message from Victor.

“Doing good,” typed Andrew in reply. “Enjoying the sunshine while it lasts.”

“Good. Anymore dreams?”

“No. All good.”

“Smiling face emoji. We need to have lunch again. I promised to tell you about my adventures with Goya in Spain.”

“Sounds good. Maybe next week?”

“Yes. Enjoy ur day.”

“U too.”

Andrew replaced his phone and returned his attention to his sketch. A big shadow fell over his page.

“That’s me?” questioned a friendly voice as Andrew looked up to see that the hulking shadow was being cast by Joe peering down at his sketchpad. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. That is really good. You are quite the artist, buddy. You just sketch random people?”

“Joe, you are anything but random,” teased Andrew. Joe plopped himself next to Andrew on the bench with a hearty laugh landing awkwardly close to Andrew. Joe’s big arm rubbed up against Andrew’s arm and the contact was not unpleasant at all. Sensing his exuberance had invaded Andrew’s personal space, the big lad quickly withdrew to provide distance between them.

“I got our tickets for the Dracula play tonight, “stated Joe. “You still wanting to go?”

Andrew looked into those puppy brown eyes and unintentionally his “sight” tuned into his friend’s thoughts---“Please say yes, buddy.”

“Yes, I am all in for the play tonight,” replied Andrew then noticing his friend’s relief and a touch of joy. Joe grinned happily. “Looking forward to it.”

“Awesome!” exclaimed Joe patting Andrew on the shoulder. “See you at the theatre about thirty minutes before the show, buddy.” Joe rose from the bench and then plodded away. Andrew returned to his sketch of his friend. A fleeting thought passed in his mind of what it would be like to kiss those lips and feel the scruff of Joe’s beard against his neck.

“Nope,” concluded Andrew as he thought to himself of how that big football player would for sure not take that well. That easy-going mountain boy would probably punch Andrew if he attempted to kiss him. Better safe than sorry and why screw up a friendship.

As Joe sauntered off, his arm still tingled from the brief, but pleasant contact that he had with Andrew. Joe thought to himself that he needed to be more cautious. He had worked so hard to hide those feelings and had been so careful around campus. Nobody needed to know his secret self, and definitely not his new friend, Andrew. Joe decided he was just going to have to be happy with being Andrew’s friend and that was the safest way to be regardless of how his insides felt. And currently they were tingling.