Damien had just made himself comfortable in his armchair when a soft knock brought him back on his feet. Cursing he grabbed the bag of sweets and made for the door, asking himself for the umpteenth time why the Church hadn't made an end of this annoying custom from their mother planet Earth yet. As if they hadn't enough and to spare demonlings roaming the night in their everlasting hunt for human prey. At the sight of his visitor facing him with an amused smile he froze on the threshold. "Trick or treat, Vryce", the Hunter chuckled softly.
"Do you like my costume, Vryce?"
Sweating in the silly pumpkin outfit the costumer had talked him into Damien turned round and gawped at his husband. Even in the throes of passion Gerald Hawthorne-Vryce was a damn pretty thing to behold, but dressed completely in black velvet except for the blood-red silken lining of the cloak sweeping the ground at his feet he looked like Lucifer ready to take up his reign over hell himself. Smiling wickedly the adept revealed delicate but utterly inhuman fangs, and Vryce swallowed convulsively. This promised to be a very, very interesting evening.
"But I want to be a vampire on Halloween, dad! That's so cool!"
Sighing inwardly Damien gazed down on the defiant face of his seven-year-old offspring. Eyes as grey as an overcast sky stared back utterly undaunted, and not for the first time he wondered if the old saying 'like father, like son' didn't contain more than just a grain of truth. In every respect of the matter, unfortunately. The thought somewhat unsettling he winced when a soft mouth teasingly nibbled at his throat. "Maybe I could give him some useful advice, Vryce", Gerald purred throatily.