Chapter 4: Delusions and Deceptions

Eric had spent most of the last year experiencing an intoxicating amount of control and freedom for the first time in his life. He had a family unit that cared for him. The love of his life, Frank Hardy, was back in his arms and on his way to spending eternity with him. And thanks to his patriarch, the resources to make his dreams come true.

He had not been a vampire long enough to gather up the nest egg for himself that older vampires managed to when Eric's world came crashing down that cold January night. In a fit of jealousy he had left everything behind to take care of something, once and for all. Frank was still hung up on that sad sack, Phil Cohen. What did Frank see in him anyway? What could he offer Frank that Eric couldn't?

But that had been a fatal mistake, to leave Frank's side. By the time he returned, the home he'd come to love was a pile of cinders and ashes. His patriarch, brothers and sisters, were all dead. And Frank's jilted lover had taken him away. Eric's so called "mother" and his other brother had turned their backs on him. Swearing protection and allegiance to Frank and that fool Phil. And a month later, the love of his life vanished without a trace.

No thanks to their oath, Eric could not go near Frank, could not take his revenge out on Phil. Every time he tried to enter Center State hospital where Frank was being treated for his injuries, a sense of repulsion would overcome Eric so strongly that he would lose command of his own body. He would turn on his heel to make a one hundred and eighty degree turn to leave the premises in a trance-like state until he was far enough away and return to his senses. The same thing would happen when he approached the hotel where Phil was staying.

Once Eric learned Frank was released from the hospital in Bayport, he could not pick up their scent anywhere in Bayport or the surrounding areas. He searched for Frank, sought out major cities in other states where he thought Frank might consider moving to, where there was potential for Frank to succeed as a detective.

Then he finally saw it while looking at Bayport's Gazette's online articles. Frank's brother's wedding announcement, and there in the second paragraph, "the best man was the brother of the groom, Frank Hardy, of Bayport, NY." His lover had been hidden in Bayport this whole time. But Amy and Ezekiel's oath would thwart a renewed search.

It was time to seek outside help. There was no going to the local den of Weres, they had sworn blood oaths against vampires. Enlisting the help of the local witches proved a fruitless venture, they were all faithful to Amy. And apparently Amy and Ezekiel had spun a horrific tale of how poorly he had treated Frank while they were together at the old HersherMansion, because no vampire within two hundred miles of Bayport would speak to him.

Then one night at a bar off Hull Street in Richmond, Virginia, hungry for blood and sex, a wild gamey smell entered his nose. A young man, a Were, was actually speaking to him, eyes lowered and dark, voice husky with lust. Eric thinks Miles was his name.

"I didn't think your kind associated with my kind." Eric asked as he bought young man another drink. He was beginning to wonder how long it would take for Miles to reach a level of intoxication that Eric's charms would have some effect on the boy. But obviously werewolves were rather tolerant of alcohol and vampire enchantments. But everyone has their limit, and it took to nearly closing time in the tacky bar before Miles' tongue and self-will loosened.

"Those Yankee Weres are so fuckin' snooty. They think their shit don't stink. But to us Southern boys, it's all good. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Ya' know?" They walked arm-in-arm out of the bar, Miles continued to talk and hit on Eric.

"I don't see what the big deal is. I think you blood suckers smell pretty good, you smell pretty good."

Eric allowed himself to be shoved up against the wall of a dark alley and ravished by the young man. He had to admit, the young werewolf was strong for his size. Miles was a whole head shorter than Eric. But what he lacked in height he made up for in pure, strapping muscle. It was a supernatural sort of strength, however. Eric could now tell there was more to werewolves in their human form than the average human.

They went back to Miles' apartment, and for the first time in years, Eric was submissive to the young man's advances. It felt good to switch things up, to feel full and satisfied. But he discovered quickly that Miles had an annoying habit, he talked, and he would not shut up. The whole time he drove himself into Eric's ass, he spouted dirty things into the vampire's ear. Even when they both lay there panting and dazed from their orgasms, he asked Eric how it was for him, that Eric was the hottest fuck he'd ever had, could he get Eric's number, and so on.

Eric finally confessed that he was still madly in love with his ex boyfriend, but that he had run off and couldn't find him.

"Well, I'm fraid I can't help you there. I'm a shitty tracker." He rolled onto his side and traced the lines of Eric's chest with his finger tips. "But I've got a second cousin, lives over in Rocky Mount. He's the damnedest thing you've ever seen." His interest peeked, Eric inquired more about this cousin, where he lived, how to find him. When he was sure he could find Earl Hodnett with relative ease, he gave Miles a proper thank you. A thank you that had the young werewolf nearly howling with pleasure as he writhed in the sheets, and left him speechless. Permanently.

Eric's business with Earl had amounted to a wild goose chase. He'd agreed to pay the moonshiner upfront to compensate Earl for his lost profits since he'd have to abandon his still. Earl's partner, Terry, was new to moonshining. And he was sure the mash he had fermenting would go to waste with him not there to oversee the process himself.

But Earl's week of searching Bayport had been a costly mistake. The self-proclaimed "best tracker in the south" turned up empty handed five nights in a row. Eric had let Earl go with his life, believing their business was finished. There was no sense causing two tragedies in this family, Earl did have children after all. But that money he'd given Earl would not go to waste. Earl could use it to pay for the lawyer he'd need when he was arrested by the state police for running an illegal still.

Now Eric had made the acquaintance of Emile Louvel, otherwise known as "Le Nez" by those in Louisiana, elsewhere, simply as "The Nose." He seemed a proper southern gentleman, although quite flamboyant. He had a taste for the fine and exquisite things in life, running an exotic perfumery near Jackson Square. Mr. Louvel listened sympathetically to the vampire's tale of woe and love lost, and he agreed to assist Eric, for a price.

Eric was low on funds now, no thanks to Mr. Hodnett, so he offered Emile the only thing he had left. Himself. The silvery-grey haired man chuckled warmly at Eric's offer.

"Oh, Monsieur Langehorne, you flatter me, yes. An old wolf and a young vampire would make strange bedfellows, no?"

"I have nothing else to offer Mr. Louvel, but I'm desperate now. I just have to get Frank back."

"Have you tried wooing him?"

"My rival has enlisted the help of some other vampires. They took some sort of oath."

"Ah, so there are enchantments in place that you cannot get around."

"Yes, I think."

"Excellent." He leaned forward and gently put his hand on Eric's knee. "I adore a challenge."

….

Author's Note:

Yes, short chapter is short. But this portion of the story had to stand alone to support the next chapter. I hope you are enjoying this sequel, all reviews are appreciated. Happy Hump Day Ya'll.