Rules Are Meant to Be Broken Read online

  Doyle watched as Christian took off through the park

  before turning his attention back to Michael, who stil lay on

  the ground. His gaze locked onto Doyle’s as if pleading.

  “What do you want me to do, Michael?” Doyle had to

  lean down close to listen for the other man’s answer.

  Michael rasped softly, “Please.”

  Doyle didn’t hesitate as he bit his own wrist and placed it

  over Michael’s mouth. As he felt the pul of Michael’s

  feeding, he hoped he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of

  his life. Something about Michael drew him, yet he wasn’t

  comfortable acknowledging how it made him feel. He

  wasn’t gay and he didn’t ever want to be gay. He must only

  be feeling this way because Michael was helpless. Who

  wouldn’t feel sorry for someone desperately needing help?

  Michael whimpered as Doyle removed his arm.

  “Shh, Chris is bringing you more. I promise.”

  § § § §

  Christian stalked his prey through the park for perhaps

  five minutes, just waiting for his moment. It amazed him how

  stupid people real y were. Why would they walk al by

  themselves though a darkened park at this time of night?

  Not even caring there were dangerous things out there in

  the night, not al of which were animals? He gave a low

  growl and let the demon within run free.

  The woman never had a chance. She didn’t even realise

  she was about to die until she turned and saw him there,

  and she was dead before she had time to scream. The

  hardest part was carrying her back to Michael when he was

  tempted to drain her himself.

  “Stil here? Excellent! For a moment I thought you may

  have gotten bored and wandered off with Doyle,” Christian

  said to Michael’s inert form, and then winked in Doyle’s

  direction. He laid the girl on the ground beside Michael.

  Christian drank deeply and her salty warmth flowed readily

  into his mouth. Moving toward Michael, Christian gently

  lowered his lips until they pressed against Michael’s. He

  used his tongue to once again part Michael’s lips, but this

  time it was just enough to let the warmth he held trickle into

  the other’s mouth. His fingertips gently held the side of

  Michael’s face to keep it steady. It felt strange but nice as

  Michael’s tongue flicked into his mouth seeking what he

  had to offer. He heard Doyle growl behind him.

  Christian’s eyes snapped to Doyle in confusion. “Why

  does he taste like you?”

  When Doyle shrugged, Christian turned back to feeding

  Michael. He repeated the action of feeding Michael many

  times until he thought Michael would survive the journey

  home. The last time, it felt more as if Michael was

  responding to one of his kisses and it made him groan. He

  wanted so much to explore the sensation, but instead he

  jerked back when he heard Kerr and Charm approaching.

  What would they say if they found him on the ground kissing

  Michael beside a dead body? It was bad enough Doyle

  had witnessed it al .

  Now it was time to take Michael home so he could join

  his family.

  “See love,” Christian spoke casual y to Michael’s inert

  form, “now that you have fed, we are going home.” Christian

  moved to the side as he watched Kerr pick Michael up and

  start to carry him toward Ambrose Street. Charm and Doyle

  stayed behind to dispose of the young woman’s remains

  while Christian fol owed Kerr. He wasn’t going to let

  Michael get too far out of his sight. Not now. Not ever.

  § § § §

  Michael groaned as his awareness came back. He

  realised at once he was lying on a hard surface of some

  kind, and sadly he was stil very much alive. Damn! Or, if he

  was dead, then he was in hel , because only in hel would

  his hunger be this strong and his need to be near Gypsy

  just as intense. It brought tears of frustration to his closed

  eyes.

  Trembling, he sat up. His head felt ready to split open. It

  was fil ed with a thousand voices, al whispering in there at

  the same time, al fighting for the chance to be heard.

  Michael filtered them al out until only one remained. Only

  one was persistent enough to command his attention. His

  eyes snapped open as he registered the metal ic taste in

  his mouth . So I did feed! Pain washed through him as he

  realized now he was committed for eternity to this way of

  life, and Gypsy would forever be out of reach. Tears blurred

  his vision as the thought sunk in.

  Now he would have a whole new demon to fight.

  “You won’t survive unless you embrace what you are.”

  Michael looked up as the cold, cynical voice addressed

  him. He stared into the face of the one who spoke and it felt

  as though he were seeing through new eyes. Even through

  his blurred vision, the first thing he noticed was the guy had

  the greenest eyes Michael had ever seen. The second

  thing he saw was the guy had no hair. Then Michael noticed

  the guy was frowning at him. What the hell is that about?

  The guy’s jaw was clenched and he seemed to be on alert

  in case Michael tried to do something and he nearly

  laughed out loud because he stil felt too weak to move.

  Even sitting up was draining what little energy he had. He

  stared at the guy and took everything in, from his bald head

  and broad shoulders, down his muscled body until he came

  to a set of beat-up black combat boots. This guy wasn’t one

  of the ones who had fol owed him last night, but he had

  fol owed him at other times, Michael was certain. It seemed

  everyone now had their own distinct smel about them.

  He came back to the present when he heard a box of

  matches being shaken from nearby. Automatical y his

  hands sought out his own cigarettes. His pockets were

  empty. “What am I?”

  Michael watched as the guy circled him.

  “You already know what you are. The question is; what

  you are going to do about it?”

  He realised the man’s eyes were fil ed with pity as wel

  as coldness, and stil it was aimed al at him. Again, he

  wondered why. What the hel had he done to piss this man

  off?

  “I want you to tel me what I am,” Michael said through

  gritted teeth. His head stil felt ready to burst, and what was

  worse was his throat itched like a bitch.

  “You won’t believe it,” the guy said.

  Michael wasn’t happy with the way the guy was studying

  him. It made him feel uneasy, as though he had done

  something wrong and was about to be punished, and he

  wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to be punished for.

  It was more a statement than an answer. He sighed

  deeply as he let the truth sink in. His body fil ed with pain,

  defeat, and an underlying hostility. He didn’t need this

  bul shit — he needed answers. “Did you do this to me?”

  The guy laughed harshly then spoke again. “No. We

  were hoping you could tel us who did this. Who ch
anged

  you?” He final y stopped his endless circling. “You, my

  friend, bring our little family to five. I’m Kerr, by the way.

  There are also Charm, Doyle, and Christian. Each of us

  started out the same as you, so innocent, so human. Now

  you are the same as us, one of the undead.” Michael

  watched as Kerr turned at the sound of approaching

  footsteps. Whoever it was, it was obvious Kerr knew and

  liked them, because his face softened as the person came

  ful y into view.

  “Wel ?” The woman sighed as Kerr shook his head.

  “What about him?” She flicked her fingers in his direction.

  Her eyes clouded for a moment and she seemed to be in

  deep thought before she nodded, sighing again as she

  walked downstairs to join them. The way she gazed at him,

  Michael had the feeling she was expecting something from

  him. Strangely, she made him feel calmer. “Same as al of

  us — he can’t remember being changed.” Kerr rubbed his

  hand across his bald head. “He doesn’t remember a damn

  thing.”

  “Bummer.” Disappointment fil ed her face as she

  reached out and tenderly caressed Michael’s cheek, and

  he found himself leaning into her touch. “Welcome to the

  family, Michael. I’m Charm.”

  Confusion fil ed Michael, but he didn’t say anything.

  Instead he just stared at her. It seemed as though she was

  trying to talk to him with her eyes and he just couldn’t figure

  out what the hel she was saying. Her eyes were a grey so

  pale they could be mistaken for white. They had a dark ring

  around the outer edge of the iris which gave her an ethereal

  appearance and he wondered if she could see into his very

  soul. Even though she made him calm, her eyes freaked

  him out just a little bit. Okay, they freaked him out a lot.

  “What wil happen now? Why did you bring me here?”

  Michael asked as he patted his pockets for a second time.

  “Where the hel are my cigarettes? Give them back to me.”

  Again he heard his matches being shaken and it pissed

  him off. He just wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

  “Three years ago I woke up alone, only to find I wasn’t

  dead,” Kerr explained. “Along the way I have found others.

  First Christian, then Charm, then Doyle came to join us.

  And now we have you.”

  Reaching out a shaky hand, Michael took the cigarette

  Charm offered. “You’re tel ing me absolutely nothing,”

  Michael said. His hands shook as he held the smoke

  between his fingers. Michael glared at Kerr. “Tel me

  something, anything. Tel me one bloody thing that makes

  sense.”

  “I can’t tel you what I don’t know.” Kerr snapped. “For

  three years we have sought answers. For three years we

  have gotten nowhere. Four people — now five — have

  woken up dead. The rest just haven’t woken up at al . Too

  many times we came across someone’s scent only to find

  a rotting corpse.”

  Al of this new information was making Michael’s mind

  reel. What the hel was happening? Who was responsible

  for his new way of life? How was he meant to blame

  someone if they couldn’t tel him who did this to him? How

  was he supposed to exact his revenge on losing Gypsy if

  he was stil being kept in the dark?

  “What does it mean? I don’t understand.”

  “It means our creator, sire — whatever the hel you want

  to cal him or her — only chose a few of us to fol ow in his or

  her footsteps.”

  “To do what?”

  “That’s what we are trying to find out,” Kerr replied with a

  shrug of his shoulders.

  Feeling cheated, Michael asked, “Then what? What are

  we meant to do after we find this person? Is it going to

  change anything? Wil it give me back what I have lost?”

  The only answer he got was another non-committal

  shrug.

  “How did I get here? Where is here? Why am I here?

  How long have I been here?” Michael heard his matches

  rattle for a third time and could sense the people who had

  been watching him earlier, and it made his anger surge

  forth again. “And for the love of al you hold holy, who the

  hel was fol owing me tonight? And who the hell has my

  damn matches?”

  “We brought you here. You are home. You are now

  family. Three days. Doyle and Christian.” Charm answered

  al his questions while a twisted and somewhat

  mischievous smirk played on her mouth. “They helped you

  feed.”

  Michael was confused by what she was saying. “Helped

  me? How?”

  Laughter bubbled out of her. “They fed you.”

  Flickers of memory assaulted him. Michael fel silent

  trying to make sense of it al . What the fuck?

  “They’re waiting to meet you.” She gestured toward the

  stairs leading up into the house.

  His gaze turned toward where she has gestured but he

  saw no one, Michael wasn’t real y listening at al because

  his thoughts were in turmoil. He realised he hadn’t any

  choice as to final y crossing over that hated line. Bal ing his

  hands into fists against his thighs he fought the urge to

  strike out at something.

  Standing within the shadows Christian watched. His

  curiosity about this new arrival to the family kept him from

  crawling into bed and sleeping away the sun-fil ed hours.

  He and Doyle were waiting on the stairs to come and

  official y meet Michael. Excitement fil ed him. Peeking over

  at Doyle, he saw Doyle had a very strange look on his face.

  It almost seemed as though he was going to throw up. And

  Christian wondered what the hel was wrong with him.

  But Doyle’s strange reaction wasn’t what held his

  attention. What did was the fact that this guy — Michael —

  was beautiful. Not just merely handsome, Michael was

  real y and truly beautiful. Charm had already said she

  thought he was drop dead gorgeous, and he had to total y

  agree with her. Christian wanted to run in and cover his

  face in kisses, just as he had yearned to do earlier. But he

  thought it might be a bit inappropriate, since this was to be

  their first official meeting.

  The one thing in Michael’s looks that stood out the most

  was how Michael’s eyes seemed unnatural. They had a

  purple cast to them, giving them the appearance of melted

  amethysts. This seemed to become more obvious once he

  had final y fed. Honestly, Christian felt he lost his very soul

  each time he gazed into those eyes. Michael’s dark hair fel

  to his shoulders, framing his perfect face. It amazed

  Christian how much Michael looked very similar to the actor

  Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Even though he had never been

  attracted to another guy before — that he could remember

  — some strange part of him wanted to rub himself al over

  Michael just so the others knew to keep their hands off of

  what was his. Christian froze at the thought; it was enough

  to make him sto
p and go whoa!

  Descending the stairs, Christian stepped into the lounge

  room, he came ful y into view, but the others ignored him as

  they focused on Michael. He held Michael’s matches

  clenched in his fist. The cigarettes sat in his shirt pocket.

  Everyone seemed to be caught up in their own thoughts.

  They hadn’t noticed him, so he just watched and listened,

  memorising everything he could about the newest member

  of the family. Christian studied his face. It intrigued him how

  ful Michael’s lips were — so inviting, and his scent was

  delicious. He wanted to taste Michael again.

  Christian wondered how many hearts Michael had

  broken during his human life, and how many more he stil

  had yet to break. Biting his lip to keep himself from talking

  Christian listened to the sound of Michael’s voice. It was

  mesmerising, so deep and husky. Watching as Michael

  brought the unlit cigarette to his lips, searching his pockets

  for his matches, and Christian’s hand clenched tighter

  around them. Charm held out her lighter so the flame

  danced across the tip of Michael’s cigarette.

  Michael’s eyes rose tiredly to meet Charm’s. She was

  pretty in her own ashen sort of way. Her lips were very red,

  and she wasn’t even wearing makeup. As he inhaled, the

  smel of roses came to him. He stared, then closing his

  eyes; he leaned closer and inhaled again.

  “You smel like Gypsy,” he said sadly as her fingertips

  ran across his cheek. When he opened his eyes again Kerr

  was frowning at them. As Michael returned his gaze to

  Charm he thought there was something odd about her. He

  would have to think on it for awhile. His line of sight drifted

  past her to final y land on the two young men now standing

  at the foot of the stairs. The one on the left had blond hair

  which was slicked back, and his thin frame was draped in a

  long black leather coat. Michael stared, a smile twitching at

  the corner of his lips. Was this guy for real? Or had he just

  seen one too many episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?

  Looking at this guy, the character Spike immediately came

  to mind, except this guy was shorter than Spike — probably

  even a tad shorter than Michael — and not as anorexic as

  Spike. If his mum could see him she would be in her glory.

  The guy on the right was almost the Spike clone’s exact

  opposite. He had messy dark hair, it came just below his