The Obscurati (14 page)

Oberon got his own gold bar, five hundred grams. It was his first.

“Mine’s bigger,” I said.

“Size queen. Anyway, I’m hung better.”

“Slut.”

“I’ll show you slut.”

And with that, we were off to the bedroom.

T
HERE
was a knock at the door. Without waiting, Hamlet walked in. Oberon and I were still fucking, but Hamlet didn’t seem to notice. He just ignored the fact we were busy.

“Pierre wants to take me to hear a chamber orchestra.”

“We really need to start locking the door again.”

“Did you hear me?” Hamlet said.

“We’re a little busy now.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. I’ll wait.”

And he did. Oberon turned up the tempo and shot within just a minute. Vampires can move blazingly fast. If you’ve never seen a vampire fucking at vampire speeds, it is just a blur.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Oberon asked as he wiped my ass with a towel.

“Pierre wants to go out with me.”

“And?”

“He’s straight,” Hamlet said.

“Are you sure?” Oberon asked.

It was like somebody had hit Hamlet in the head with a rock. “Well….”

“Maybe he just likes you,” I said. “Maybe he wants to spend time with you when you aren’t doing martial arts.”

“Maybe he just wants to mess with my head,” he said.

“How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I think Pierre is handsome and all, but….”

“But what? Don’t you like being around him?”

“I don’t… the only time I’ve been around him is when we’re training or fighting somebody.”

“So, go out with him,” I said.

“Hamlet seems disoriented,” Oberon said.

“He’s on the edge of a major breakthrough.”

“He’s on the edge of a cliff.”

“Let’s push him off the cliff,” I said with a grin.

“Hamlet, love,” Oberon said.

He looked at my husband.

“Mårten’s birthday is in a few days.”

“Oops, I forgot. I’m sorry, Mårten, but I will get you something really nice.”

“He wants you for his birthday,” Oberon said with a completely straight face.

“Sex? He can have that anytime he wants. He knows that. But we’re both bottoms.”

“Hamlet, what Mårten wants is for you to top him.”

You could actually see all the little brain parts try to line up with this idea. It wasn’t working. Hamlet’s brain was about to explode.

“Mårten wants you to fuck him,” Oberon said.

He just stood there with his mouth open. “Quit messing with me, both of you.”

“It’s the truth,” I said. “Oberon asked what I wanted most for my birthday, and I told him that what I wanted more than anything else in the world was your dick in my ass.”

“But….”

“I’ve fucked you twice in the last hundred years, so I think turnabout is—”

“Gross,” Hamlet said. “I don’t know how….”

I glided up and started undoing his shirt. Hamlet moved backwards, but I followed. I pinned him up against a wall.

Hamlet is an awesome fighter. If he’d really wanted me to stop, he could have sent me flying out through the wall.

“I won’t stay hard,” he said.

“You let me worry about that,” Oberon said as I peeled away his shirt. Hamlet undid his pants and let them slide to the floor. I held both his hands and pulled him as I walked backwards toward the bed.

“You are one seriously fucked-up vampire,” Hamlet laughed.

“Maybe,” I laughed, “but what you are about to give me is what I want for my birthday. It is my birthday, so I get to choose. It is a present that nobody else has ever had.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Hamlet laughed.

I fell backwards onto the bed, and I had my arms around Hamlet’s waist, so he followed me. The nelliest vampire in history was about to get butch on my ass.

“You’re mental,” he said.

“Certifiably so, but I would love you to fuck me.”

“My dick isn’t even….”

He was going to say “hard,” but Oberon had his mouth around Hamlet’s dick, and it slowly came to attention. I lifted my legs and put my heels on Hamlet’s shoulder. Oberon guided Hamlet’s dick into my butt. Hamlet’s technique wasn’t the best, but he was really trying.

I noticed how Oberon planned on keeping Hamlet hard: he was playing with Hamlet’s ass. One finger, maybe two, kept Hamlet thinking about sex. Hamlet’s dick isn’t his sex organ. He is such a bottom that his dick is just an appendage that shoots cum. His sex organ is his ass.

How do I know? That’s how I feel. We’re both bottoms.

After a few minutes, he decided that he liked what was happening. He found a rhythm. I was being fucked by the most complete and total bottom I have ever known, and it felt really good. I put my hands on the back of his neck and pulled his face toward me.

“You are one sick vampire,” he said with a grin. Maybe this would help me stop being jealous of Oberon.

“Sick vampire,” I said, “who’s getting a nice ride for his birthday.”

Hamlet decided to play a little rougher. It is how he likes to have sex. He doesn’t have the biggest dick in the world, but it is fairly thick. I’m used to Oberon: really long and thin. Hamlet couldn’t go as deep as Oberon, but he was stretching my sphincter.

“Ummm,” I groaned as Hamlet’s thrusts became harder and faster. His balls slapped up against my butt with a clack each time. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them against the headboard.

It took him almost forever, but he ended up shooting a fairly big load up my ass.

Oberon was stroking his own dick.

“Anybody want this?”

“The cum or the fuck?” Hamlet said.

Oberon shrugged. Hamlet pulled himself out of my butt and rolled onto his stomach. He got up on all fours, doggy-style. That was all Oberon needed to see. He was onto Hamlet in a flash and was cumming in his ass just a few seconds later. Oberon was right on the edge, watching Hamlet and me.

They noticed that I hadn’t shot. Hamlet wanted it, so he took my dick in his mouth. Blow job.

I was starting to come to my senses, and I realized what I had just done. It was almost like incest. It was like my own brother had just fucked me and was giving me a blow job.

And that was where it ended. My dick went soft. Maybe I was suddenly grossed out by the whole thing.

“It’s okay, Hamlet,” I said. “I got everything I wanted.”

“You’re weird,” he said. “You are completely out-of-your-mind creepy.”

“I love you too, Hamlet.”

“That was a one-time deal, right?” he asked.

“I promise, but you did enjoy it.”

“It was gross. I will never get the smell off my dick. And don’t you breathe a word of this to anyone, not out loud or using mind words. I know where you sleep, and I can whup your ass nine ways to Sunday.”

Oberon just shook his head and smiled.

Chapter 11

T
HE
night of Hamlet’s big date with Pierre was a trial. Oberon and I fed in the library. Menz was there, reading.

“Big night,” he said.

I guess we looked puzzled.

“Hamlet and Pierre.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “I almost forgot.”

“Bullshit,” Oberon laughed. “Hamlet has been freaking out for an entire week.”

“Oh my….”

Hamlet walked in. He was wearing a deep blue Italian suit, a pastel shirt, and an actual tie. He didn’t look really formal. It certainly wasn’t a Wall Street or accountant look. He was actually stunning, like he had just stepped out of the pages of some fashion magazine or out of a limousine in Monte Carlo.

“You look….” Oberon couldn’t find the word in any of the zillion languages he knew.

“Natty,” Menz said. “You look very dapper.”

“He looks amazing,” Pierre said, standing in the door. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble just for me.”

“Yes, he did,” Oberon said. “This is Hamlet.”

“Ready?”

“I think so,” Hamlet said shyly.

“Where are you going?”

“Chamber orchestra in Vienna,” Pierre said.

“Good thing it is winter. It gets dark early, but you need to hustle to make it to the concert hall on time.”

“Hamlet,” Pierre said. And with that, they were off.

“
W
HAT
’
S
with them?” Menz asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Pierre is straight. He was with the same female vampire for at least three or four hundred years.”

“Maybe he’s changing,” I said. “Maybe he just likes to hang out with Hamlet.”

“Maybe the moon is just Swiss cheese,” Menz laughed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I think it has to be really strange.”

“Just be happy for Hamlet,” Oberon said. “If they become a couple, it will be Hamlet’s first relationship in a hundred years.”

Menz just shook his head and went back to his book.

I
T
WAS
winter, but vampires don’t feel temperature. Oberon and I were outside admiring the snow and the stars. Menz’s estate was still in the middle of nowhere. You could see the glow of Munich off to one side, but that was beyond the horizon. The first time I saw the garden on a moonless night in the winter, the only thing that made the snow sparkle was the glow from the stars. City lights, even way off in the distance, changed the night.

“It was amazing,” Hamlet said. “The chamber group did two Bach concertos, and then they did the first Brandenburg after intermission.”

“And Pierre?” Oberon asked.

“He… I mean… he told me that he can take some time off.”

“Okay.”

“He said he could borrow the queen’s yacht. He wants to take me to America or around the world or something.”

We were speechless.

“How…?”

“After the concert, we went to some bar in Vienna, and we talked for a couple of hours. We just talked. No necking. No sex. We just talked, and it was awesome.”

“So he just wants to be friends with you?”

“I think he wants to take things slowly and not make promises he can’t keep.”

“Are you okay with that?” Oberon asked.

“Huh?”

“It sounds like he’s old-fashioned. It sounds like he is courting you.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Hamlet grinned. “Me being courted.” And with a flip of his hair, he went inside.

“You can put Hamlet in a €5,000 Italian suit, but he’s still Hamlet.”

We both laughed.

O
VER
the rest of the winter, Oberon and I got called out on sniper missions several times a week. We went all over the world killing rogue vampires.

Each time they gave us gold bars—a kilogram each, sometimes more, rarely less. Some nights we would go out to three or four kills. We had quite a stack of gold in Menz’s basement. I was going to have to ask Pierre about how to store them. Menz wasn’t supposed to know about our work, so I couldn’t blurt out questions about a million euros of gold bullion.

The trip from Menz’s mansion to New York City is 6,444 kilometers (roughly 4,000 miles). Even at ten times the speed of sound, it takes several minutes. Any time we went out of Europe, the locals would give us a place to spend the daylight hours, and they would arrange for blood donors. I guess we had become celebrities.

Mårten and Oberon: ace vampire killers. The stuff of whispers. We were Obscurati, so nobody asked questions. They barely said anything, and we said nothing to the locals.

One vampire in India, maybe an Obscurati, spent several days teaching us some tricks on being stealthy. It was after we had botched a kill in his area. The rogue vamp sensed our presence and shot out of the area like a rocket. I really appreciated the training. We weren’t as stealthy as Pierre, but we both learned how to mask our presence from almost everyone. If you were more than a hundred meters away, you didn’t know we were there. I was usually lethal up to eight hundred meters, so we could get in fairly close to up the odds of a clean hit.

The locals always did the cleanup work. They just wanted me and my sniper rifle loaded with Oberon’s homemade silver bullets. He was getting better and better at making the bullets; his latest batch were ultra smooth. Silver bends under pressure, so making something out of silver that comes out of a rifle at over four hundred meters a second is an art form all to itself. Nobody in the world could make this ammo other than my husband.

The new bullets were heavy toward the back but hollow at the tip. There was some kind of metal inside, but they were silver or silver-plated on the outside. I don’t know how he did it, but they exploded inside the vampire as soon as they hit.

Oberon always carried several kinds of ammunition. He would select the kind for me to use once he saw the layout. I think he used more powder in some of the bullets, and he saved those for when we were way back at the upper range of the rifle. He used less gunpowder for shorter-range kills.

What do I know? I’m the sniper. He’s the mad scientist.

Over time, he stopped using the sniper calculator that they bought me. He said it was too slow. He found some software to use, and he started bringing an Apple iPad along for his computations. He also had a small digital weather station so he could get a fix on wind speed and humidity. I have no idea what all he did. Sun spots, maybe. Whatever it was, when he gave me the settings for the scope and then told me how to fudge the shot from what the scope showed, I didn’t miss. In fact, I could take out three vampires in less than a second. That is no easy accomplishment, because vampires can move quickly. With Oberon’s numbers and my PSG, I was faster and more deadly.