“Are you ready for this?”
“I have no idea,” Orlando admitted, coming
to sit next to Alain on the bed. “We’ve
gone through all the training, we’ve got the house ready, everything is
set. Nicole arrives tomorrow.”
“And you’re scared out of your mind,” Alain
surmised.
“And you’re not?” Orlando asked. “I know you better than that.”
“How do you think I knew what you were
feeling?” Alain asked. “Claire said it
was normal to have doubts. She only
worries about people who don’t question whether they’re doing the right thing.”
“I know, I was there,” Orlando said. The energetic social worker had helped smooth
over any number of bumps in their road: his being a vampire, their being gay,
to name the biggest. Their status as war
heroes had probably helped, but he knew he owed Claire a debt of thanks for
making their dream of being foster parents to war orphans a reality. “I know you’ll be a wonderful father to
them. I’ve listened to Thierry tell
stories about the way you were with your son.
You’ll be the same loving man with our little refugees. I have nothing like that to draw on, and my
experiences with my own father were so long ago and from such a different time
that I’m not sure they even come into play.”
“Children need one thing more than
anything else,” Alain said, his voice firm with conviction. “They need to be loved unconditionally. That doesn’t mean you take their crap and let
them walk all over you, but it means that no matter what they do, when you tuck
them into bed at night, you tell them you love them and you mean it. You may not have any practical experience,
but you have a heart full of love.
They’ll see that and respond to it.”
“I have a heart full of you,” Orlando
countered. “Before I met you—”
“Let’s not think about that,” Alain said,
pressing Orlando back onto the bed. “You need to feed so it’s safe for you to
be outside tomorrow when Claire brings Nicole, and then I need to sleep so I’m
rested enough to keep up with a six-year-old all day.”
“And you think me feeding is going to
speed up you going to sleep?” Orlando teased, running his hand down Alain’s
back. “That isn’t usually how that
works.”
“Maybe not, but I sleep best after you’ve
fed and we’ve made love,” Alain replied.
He couldn’t remember the last time one hadn’t led to the other. Certainly not since the war ended. Even on the rare occasions they helped with
one magical ritual or another, the Aveu de Sang gave Alain protection from
overfeeding so that Orlando could continue the connection when they arrived
somewhere private.
Orlando smiled. “Then let’s see about helping you
sleep.” He rolled Alain beneath him and
licked the brand on Alain’s neck that proclaimed them bound. The surge of love and amusement that passed
through their bond only widened Orlando’s smile. Somehow, through some twist of fate or act of
God, he had ended up here, in this bed, with this man. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky, but
he never forgot to be grateful for the gift of Alain’s presence in his life.
“Bite me already,” Alain said, but there
was no heat in his words.
Orlando chuckled and lifted his head. “I thought you wanted to make love. If I bite you now, there are so many other
things I can’t do.”
To prove his point, he reared back and
lowered his head to Alain’s cock, licking the tip. “Unless you’re suggesting I bite you here.”
“Maybe not,” Alain said, his voice hoarse
with the desire Orlando could feel resonating through his mind.
Orlando wouldn’t have done it even if
Alain had said yes. He knew how much
that hurt, and he wouldn’t inflict that on anyone even at their request. Instead he drew back his fangs and slid lips
down the hardening shaft, taking it deep into his mouth. Alain tossed his head, but his hips stayed
still, leaving Orlando in control of their interactions. Orlando wanted more, though, so he slipped
one hand between Alain’s legs, circling Alain’s entrance in the one caress that
never failed to shatter his lover’s control.
Alain’s hips lifted, driving his cock into
Orlando’s throat. Orlando swallowed and
hummed his approval, projecting his need through their bond as firmly as he
could. Alain was always so careful not
to do anything that might trigger bad memories for Orlando, and without that,
Orlando doubted they would have made it through as well as they did, but
tonight Orlando wanted this. He wanted
Alain to let go and fuck his mouth and throat.
Fortunately Alain seemed to get the message, beginning to move in time
with Orlando’s suction, his hips rising and falling in a rhythm designed to
steal both their wits. Within minutes, a
burst of hot cream filled Orlando’s mouth, one of the few tastes besides
Alain’s blood he could savor fully.
The magic of the Aveu de Sang would let
them prolong their encounter as much as they wanted, provided they didn’t find
release at the same time, but tomorrow would be a busy day, and Alain did not
have a vampire’s ability to go for days without rest, so Orlando kissed his way
up Alain’s torso, lingering over each nipple, until he once again reached the
brand on Alain’s neck. His fangs pierced
flesh, tasting hot blood and the myriad emotions roiling through Alain’s heart:
desire laced with satiation, surprise, and, the bedrock of their lives, love.
Orlando rocked against Alain, rubbing his
hard shaft against Alain’s hardening one.
He would never have had the patience to wait if he hadn’t known his
fangs in Alain’s neck would speed Alain to a second climax nearly as quickly as
the first. As it was, though, he didn’t
worry about holding back, rutting against the cradle of Alain’s body, driving
them both higher and higher. He could
taste the rising desire in Alain’s blood once more, matching his own until it
reached a fever pitch and the repercussions reverberated between them, a
never-ending feedback loop that left them both panting and exhausted on the
bed.
Orlando licked the wounds on Alain’s neck
to close them and nestled close to his wizard’s side. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, angel.”
“Sleep,” Orlando murmured, pressing one
more kiss to the mark of their bond.
“I’ll guard your dreams.”
Morning came early, but Alain didn’t
protest when Orlando bounced out of bed the moment the sun peaked above the
horizon. His vampire, once imprisoned by
the sun’s rays, now reveled in his freedom, spending as much time outside as
the demands of their lives would allow.
By the time Alain had showered and came blearily downstairs, Orlando had
coffee ready and breakfast on the table.
The bread was still warm from the bakery down the road in Pouilly.
“And you worry about being a good father,”
Alain said. “Nicole won’t drink coffee,
but if she wakes up to this kind of attention every morning, she’ll never doubt
you care about her and want her here.”
“Even if it’s as much for you as it is for
her?” Orlando asked.
“She’s six, Orlando. Her world revolves
around her still. She’ll see this and
not even notice the coffee that isn’t for her, or if she does notice, it will
be an afterthought. You’ll be Papa
Orlando, and she’ll think you hung the moon.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Alain ate while Orlando fussed around the
kitchen, making sure everything was in its place. When Alain was finished, Orlando insisted on
checking the room they had prepared for Nicole one more time to make sure
everything was perfect.
The sun had risen enough to cast gentle
rays through the dormer windows they had added to the attic of the house,
converting the space into a series of loft rooms that would, they hoped, allow
them to welcome several children at a time into their home and their lives. Claire said it would depend on how things
went with Nicole, but she had been cautiously optimistic that their plan would
work.
Everything was exactly as they had left it
the day before, the flowered comforter adding a touch of femininity to the
yellow walls and white trim. A few books
sat on the desk and Orlando had put a stuffed bear on the pillow, a welcome
gift to Nicole.
“It’s perfect,” Alain said. “She’ll love it here, and we’ll fill it with
all the things she needs once she gets here and we know her tastes a little
better.”
“It’s almost time.”
“We can go sit in the courtyard until they
get here,” Alain said, knowing Orlando would pace wherever they waited. At
least outside, they would hear the car approaching. Their quiet little street in their quiet
little town had very little traffic, especially once everyone else had gone to
work.
A high wall extended from the corner of
the house along the road to the three-sided shed where they kept their little
Peugeot. Alain had never owned a car
before, living in Paris with its public transportation system, but out here in
the country, walking wasn’t always an option and his magic could not take
Orlando with him. The pebbled courtyard
between the house and the shed was surrounded with climbing roses, a touch
Orlando had insisted on adding. Behind
the house in the garden, they had other flowers as well, but here in front,
Orlando had insisted on the roses. Alain
had seen no reason to argue. He sat down
on the stone bench and did his best to hide a smile as Orlando began to
pace. Oh, he tried to cover it up by
checking the roses, pulling a few weeds, and squashing a few aphids, but Alain
knew his lover better than that. Orlando
was pacing.
“It’s nine o’clock. Where are they?”
“Calm down, Orlando. There may have been bad traffic getting out
of Paris. Nicole might not have been
ready on time. It is a long drive, and
Claire did get her up early.”
Before Orlando’s worry could escalate into
a full-fledged panic, they heard the sound of a car engine at the bottom of the
hill. Orlando rushed to the gate,
swinging it wide in welcome. Alain shook
his head indulgently and adjusted the wards that supplemented the physical
barrier so Claire’s car could come through bearing the new addition to their family.
Claire climbed out of the car the moment
she put it in park, but the back door didn’t open. Orlando approached the back
window before Alain could stop him.
“Hi, Nicole,” he said through the open
space. “How are you today?”
“Is this where you live?”
“It is,” Orlando said. “Would you like to look around?”
The little girl nodded so Orlando opened
the door and helped her out. “Do you
have horses?” she asked, holding a stuffed pony close to her chest.
“No horses,” Orlando said, “but we have
something almost as fun. Do you want to
see?”
She nodded again. Orlando led her toward the barn at the back
of the property where a mama cat had given birth a few days before.
“Here’s her bag,” Claire said. “It isn’t much, but it’s all she has. I can tell she’s going to be happy here. She’s taken with Orlando already.”
“He so wants this to work.”
“It will,” Claire said. “She’s already forgotten she’s scared. Go join them.
I’ll help myself to coffee and we’ll do paperwork when she’s ready to
come inside.”
Alain smiled his thanks and went to join
his family.
“Papa Alain?”
“Yes, Nicole?”
Alain paused at the doorway to Nicole’s
bedroom. He had thought her asleep and so had intended to leave her to rest,
but it seemed she was not as far gone as he’d believed.
“Tell me a story.”
“What kind of story?” Alain asked,
returning to the foot of her bed. He didn’t know why she wasn’t exhausted. She
and Orlando had explored every inch of the village, running up and down the
hills and streets, laughing like banshees. It warmed Alain’s heart just to
think of it.
“A magical story.”
Alain smiled and brushed her hair back
from her face. “Like a fairy-tale story or a real magic story?”
“A real magic story,” Nicole said.
Alain grinned and summoned a candle with
the flick of his wrist. A tap of his wand, mostly for effect, lit the wick.
Nicole’s eyes widened.
“A long time ago, there was a wizard,”
Alain began, casting around for the perfect words. “He was very sad and very
lonely because his family had died.”
“Like my parents,” Nicole said.
“Yes, very much like that,” Alain said.
“He was sure he was never going to have anyone special in his life again
because he’d let bad things happen to the two people who needed him most. Then
one night he was walking and he met the most beautiful young man he had ever
seen.”
“Did they kiss?” Nicole asked with that
mixture of curiosity and horror that only a six-year-old could muster.
“Not right away,” Alain said. “They talked
first because it turns out they each had something the other wanted.”
“What?” Nicole asked.
“They each had a heart full of love to
give and a deep fear of giving it,” Alain explained. “They each needed someone
to love and trust, and because they were both so afraid, they knew how
important it was to take good care of each other.”
“Did they die in the war too?” Nicole
asked.
“No,” Alain said with a smile and another
stroke of his hand over her hair. “They fought in the war, protecting each
other as best they could, and when the war was over, they decided to leave
Paris and move to the country.”
“Like you and Papa Orlando.”
“Exactly like us,” Alain agreed. “Can you
sleep now?”
“Is that how you met Papa Orlando?”
“Yes,” Alain said. “I can do all kinds of
magic with a wave of my wand and a whispered spell, but no magic will ever be
as great as knowing I love Papa Orlando and that he loves me in return. Sleep
well, minette. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Nicole let him leave this time. He shut
the door to her room and took two steps before he ran right into Orlando. “I
don’t remember it being quite that simple,” Orlando said, his smile evident in
his voice, though Alain could not see it in the darkness of the hallway.
“Don’t you?” Alain said. “You took one sip
of my blood, and I’ve been yours ever since. Everything else pales in
comparison to that one irrefutable fact.”
“No,” Orlando said, running his fingers
over the brand he didn’t need light to see. “I took one sip of your blood and
I’ve been yours ever since.”
“A heart full of love and a deep fear of
giving it,” Alain repeated. “I’m not scared anymore.”
“Neither am I.”
