Warnings – M/M explicit sex, blood and vampire compliant violence
…..
"Michael."
Michael shakes his head, clutching onto the tree, his head starting to pound, eyes glowing brighter than the bonfire at the core of the carnage. The scent from the bodies clings to his tongue as he pants, floods his nose, spreading heat down to his bones, until all that is left is fire and starvation and his name chanted on the tongues of his new brothers.
"Michael! Michael! Michael!"
Michael's face becomes a mask to match the demons below him, smile sharp-toothed and fierce. Without another thought, he flies to David and the still-squirming gift he offers. He lands in a crouch, fangs bared in a snarl, and leaps at his prize, biting deep.
Howls of approval fill the air, but all Michael hears is the slowing drumbeats of the heart beneath his claws. When the sound stops, he lifts his head, blood dripping down his chin, golden eyes slipping closed in delirium.
A hand slides under his chin, tilting his head back, lips laced with smoke and iron pennies meeting his. There is a brief moment, then a cool tongue gently lapping at his chin, across his mouth, pressing for entry. Something inside him snaps, and he launches himself again, this time met and held, pressed back into the sand, a new hunger matched in the pale blonde eagerly peeling him out of his clothes.
The way David consumes him feels just as heavenly as the blood, if differently; the two of them locked together, needle teeth sinking into the meat of each other's shoulders, blood and semen mixing over flesh frozen in the perpetual beauty of youthful perfection, gilded by firelight.
The night ends back at the cave.
Michael's head is still reeling, blood-hazy, Paul's endless supply of potent weed doing nothing to clear it, not that he cares. His new brothers are all over him, around him, wicked tongues and sharp teeth, and he greets them with his own, just as hungry as they are for the feel of skin, touch, the scrape of fingers and claws and the dark taste of blood mingling with alcohol, with release, driving all thought away, turning Michael's mind blank and red and bright as his searing gold eyes in the shadows.
From a distance, Star sees, smells, feels the orgy of blood and sex pulling at her. She draws Laddie away to hide with her in one of the smaller caverns in the back; huddling in the dark, surrounded by a few thin pillows and threadbare blankets, they wait for the light of dawn.
Star holds back her despair, any chance of hope as dead as the bodies on the beach, burnt to ashes, lost to the long sleep of the night.