Biloxi Eclipse: garnet sliver pomegranate clay
Angel might know all the scientific reasons. He might be able to spout a dozen theories on why it is all a myth and he would deny the effect of it until the end of his very, very long life. But inside, deep and buried and secret, he knew the truth.
He could feel it.
The pull came from the very marrow of his bones. The demon cells in his blood and no matter what he planned, what was going on, who he was with—he always ended up outside, in the dark. Walking through alleys, the heels of his shoes grinding gravel and broken glass, discarded dreams. Walking through forests, wind brushing crisp, fallen leaves. Or now, the still, humid heated air of the south that made his skin so warm he almost felt alive as his boots scuffed through clay masquerading as dirt.
Everything was glowing red. The tall pines colored purple as green disappeared. The shadows were alive with animals and supernatural. Silver slivers as eyes flashed. Each demon gauging Angel’s strength and turning away. Leaving him alone.
The normal sounds of night were muffled. Frogs slid into soft mud instead of sitting on banks. Crickets chose this night to stay quiet, cicadas busied themselves hiding from spiders.
It only came twice a year, twice every year in Angel’s two hundred and fifty years. And each time, he told himself it would be different. And with the rise of the moon, the setting of the sun – the direct line and the burn of back lit pomegranate in the sky, it never was. And it always was.
The harsh brush of branches on skin, the low growl of something that wasn’t human, wasn’t animal. Off to the right and Angel stopped. Motionless in the dark, his eyes changing from brown to yellow. His teeth sharpened. He could see everything. He could taste every wet molecule of air.
The tall wolf stepped from the shadows. He hadn’t changed, not completely. He was still human in form, although his canines were distended and his fingers were curved into talons. His eyes were black and gold, and his body shimmered with beads of sweat and droplets of garnet blood. Not his, Angel could tell.
Red and silver shining on his chest, on his shoulders. Muscles rippled under the stained tan and all the menace rumbled behind pure lust. Animal hard, demon fueled, the power of the moon and the sun and the earth and Angel stepped forward before he knew what he was doing. Blocking sharp claws already stained, deflecting a bite and sliding inside the monster’s embrace.
The Wolf’s wrists caught in Angel’s hands and he only gave enough to let razors slice through his clothes until he was as naked as the ManDemonWolf in front of him. Hot breath and kisses that were nothing but poorly disguised bites. Tongues bloody and there was a moment where it could have gone either way. Where it could have sunk into a fight that ended in death or it could have…
Angel saw the shine of white teeth in the red dark. The Wolf smiled.
“Varek.” He growled. His voice nothing but a short breath and a low, slow sigh.
And Angel had to bite down on the need to expand the name. The feeling that Angelus would be proper and true. The solid bars of his soul fading in the eclipse. The demon in his mind, in his blood, in his heart and slipping free.
Varek turned in Angel’s arms, long hair curled in wet, black streaks on his cheeks, on his neck. He pressed the perfect, round curve of his ass against Angel’s cock. He looked over his shoulder and snapped his sharp teeth together.
“Gonna fuck me, Vampire?”
Angel didn’t know who howled louder or longer as they came together. He fucked the Wolf up against the rough bark of a thirty-foot swaying pine. The forest silent as a dream around them, the Gulf sloshing up slow and steady on the dirty sand beach a half-mile away like a heartbeat that couldn’t be stilled. Couldn’t be killed. Wouldn’t die. Led by the Moon, as they all were. Controlled by the pull of passion and gravity.
The forest danced in red and the green, cat-eyes of ‘gators watched from the edge of the black water in the swamps that would not be denied by progress. Smelling the blood that ran down Varek’s back from the bites on his neck. And when he turned again, when he let his back be ripped by wood and Angel’s fingernails, he wrapped his long legs around Angel’s hips and bit just as viciously into Angel’s broad shoulder as the Vampire had sucked at his own long neck and filled him. Fucked him. Bruising and hard and so fucking good, nothing like this … nothing.
He lifted his head and screamed in the fading dark, the sharp red of the Moon becoming a fading orange. He clenched around Angel’s cock, his body became a fist that held and gripped and cramped and twisted -- and they came together.
In the dark. Under the red Moon.
“Varek.” Angel whispered, trembling shudders of pleasure working through his body. The humidity almost made him feel alive in his own skin.
“Angel.” The Wolf growled. His eyes flickered and his lips curved into that smile again. Too human, so inviting.
Their teeth dulled, their wounds healed even as the red disappeared and the white dark returned. One cricket chirped. Another answered. A cicada hesitantly rubbed his wings together and the night returned. Angel’s fingers slid down Varek’s chest, through come and blood and drying sweat.
Another snuffling kiss, each of them marked the other. Remembering. Scenting. They would be able to find each other in a city of millions. In a forest at midnight.
Angel waited until he heard the start, the rumble and roar of a motorcycle four miles away. Then he stood, gathered the remains of his clothes from the long needles and soft clay and he crept back to the city as the moon set and the sun lit the horizon.