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William watched one shockingly pink bird groom the other as he leaned against a post, his hands in his trouser pockets. "What are these things?"
Angelus peered at the sign, his eyes flashing yellow to allow him to see in the dark. "Flamingos."
"Very silly. Let's feed them to the lions."
Chuckling, Angelus slipped his hand through his companion's arm and led him away from the cage. "We have better things to do this night."
"Oh?" William asked, trying to feign indifference.
"Not everyone makes it to their hundredth birthday."
"Human or other?"
"Both."
As they left the Dublin Zoo, climbing easily over the locked gate, the sounds of the city reached them, bustling and loud, even at eleven o'clock at night. Carriages and carts rolled through the streets and the sidewalks were full of the rich and the poor alike.
Passing a pub, the sound of a popular song being sung by a sultry female voice wafted towards them and they stopped, smiling at each other in the glow of a gas lamp.
*On a quiet street where old ghosts meet
I see her walking now,
And away from me so hurriedly
My reason must allow.
That I had loved, not as I should
A creature made of clay,
When the angel woos the clay, he'll lose
His wings at the dawn of day.*
As the woman stopped singing and the applause rose, the two males continued down the street, wending their way home, unhurried, yet with a growing underlying tension between them. Entering their townhouse, they handed their overcoats to the butler, and walked into the library.
A cart sat in front of the glowing embers of the fire, a covered dish in the middle. Sitting bound and gagged in a chair, was a young woman, her long blonde hair falling to her waist, her cheeks stained with tears. She stared wildly at them and struggled against your bonds.
"Happy Birthday, William."
"For me?" William smiled broadly and Angelus sat down on a sofa, leaning back comfortably to watch. Tenderly, the younger vampire brushed the hair from the girl's face and neck, and his smile widened. On her throat was a fresh tattoo of a railroad spike entwined with a lavender rose, stabbed through a heart.
Turning from the terrified girl, William lifted the cover off the silver plate and his brows furrowed. A simple, unadorned, unfrosted sponge cake sat on the plate. As a wicked idea came to him, a sly smile crossed his face and he turned back to the girl.
She sat on a wooden chair, her arms bound behind the back, her ankles tied to the legs of the chair. Someone had conscientiously spread a tarp under the chair to protect the Aubusson carpet. The girl wore a simple dress with a scoop neck and long sleeves.
Picking up the knife that lay beside the cake, William tested its sharpness, then swiftly cut through the sleeves and bodice of the dress. The girl whimpered through the gag, fresh tears spilling down her pale cheeks. Two more slices and her chemise fell to her waist, baring her pert breasts.
"Lovely," he murmured and heard his sire shift on the sofa, undoubtedly leaning forward.
The wooden chair banged as the girl tried to move and William gave her a sharp shake of his head. "Stay still...It won't hurt as much if you stay still." A muffled scream filled the room.
Lifting the knife, William drew the tip of the blade from her collar bone down between her breasts. The cut wasn't deep, but blood oozed forth, its scent making him dizzy with need.
Picking up a piece of cake, he held it beneath the trickle of blood until it grew heavy and saturated in his hand. Raising the treat to his mouth, he ate it, savoring the taste. The girl whimpered and wriggled, and William licked his fingers.
"How is she?"
"Delectable." Kneeling, William cut the bonds at her feet, then did the same to the ones around her wrists. As he stood, he pulled her with him. She went limp, the fight gone from her as more of her blood slid down her body, soaking into the tattered dress.
Turning her so as to keep as much blood away from his elegant evening clothes as possible, he pulled her back against his body, one arm around her waist, the other tilting her head to the side, baring her throat. The tattoo beckoned and he felt his demon emerge.
Opening his mouth wide, he sank his fangs into the tender flesh, tasting her blood and the fresh ink. The girl made one last whimper and sagged in his arms.
As he drank, William felt himself grow hard, his erection butting against the girl's lower back.
But, she wasn't whom he wanted.
Freeing his fangs, he let her drop, drained and dying, to the floor, the remainder of her blood dripping from her onto the tarp. Glancing at his sire, he saw Angelus beckon him and he moved over to the couch, sitting next to him. His demon retreated and he licked the blood from his lips.
Angelus began to caress William's thigh, squeezing the hard muscles beneath the wool. Sliding off the couch, the older vampire knelt between his companion's legs, his hands moving higher.
Stunned, William stared at his sire's dark head, at the long fingers unbuttoning his trousers. This was a rarity to be thoroughly enjoyed. Relaxing on the sofa, spreading his legs wider, William moaned as his fly was opened and his cock lifted free by gentle hands.
"Happy one hundred years, my beautiful one," Angelus murmured before lowering his head and engulfing William's throbbing flesh between his lips.
Groaning as the talented tongue lashed his sensitive glans, William clutched at Angelus shoulder and the arm of the sofa. "Angelus," he whispered, as pleasure flooded him and sparks grew behind his closed eyes.
Knowing that this was only the first of several orgasms he would experience this night, William did nothing to hold back the pleasure, erupting into his sire's eager mouth, his whole body shaking as his hips bounced rapidly.
Angelus suckled gently, bringing the younger male down from a shattering release, his free hand rubbing his own erection through his trousers. Lifting his head, he met William's glazed eyes. "Shall we go upstairs and continue the celebration?"
Only able to nod, William allowed his sire to refasten his trousers and lift him to his feet. Together they stumbled out of the close room, their heads spinning from the combined scents of sex and death, and hurried up the stairs to celebrate their unnatural life.
End