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  “Well discuss your employment in the morning. Im… weary now.” “ Tomorrow? But—”

  “I had your room made up for you. Two doors down.”

  Nick shook his head, feeling like hed fallen down the rabbit hole big time. “My room? You cant be serious! I cant stay here!” “ Of course you can. I saw through the camera at the front door that youd brought your knapsack. It has your sketchbook, yes? Im sure there is plenty of inspiration on the estate for an imaginative mind— though I should warn you the grounds arent safe, since theres a halfburied wine cellar with a rotting deck over top. But as long as you stay indoors you should be comfortable. Youll find food and drink in the mini fridge in your room. Not alcoholic, of course, since technically you are here on business.”

  “ Mr. Mitchell, you are not listening. Staying here with you is…!” Amused, the man said, “Eccentric?”

  “Yes!” Nick tried to get a closer look but a languid hand waved him back. He couldnt even tell the age of his infuriating new employer. “ But if you dont take this position you might have to leave school,” the voice pointed out silkily. “What a shame since you are such a promising young student.”

  Obsidian: Seems he has you at a disadvantage. Moonbeam: Yes! Nick ate another truffle, considering. He was picking up a weird vibe of satisfaction emanating from Obsidian. Feeling shouldnt transmit without expression, without voice, but somehow, when chatting with Obsidian, hed found he could often read both from his odd companion, as if the wires, the electricity, transmitted more than mere flat text. It somehow allowed them to touch.

  Allowed the intimacy Nick craved.

  He swallowed the candy, deciding not to examine that thought too closely.

  Obsidian: What about the “boyfriend”? Or are you going to call him after talking to me first?

  Moonbeam: Stop smirking! And don’t use that tone when you refer to Miguel.

  Obsidian: :Lifts eyebrow: How do you know I have a “tone” when we are online?

  Nick shook his head ruefully.

  Moonbeam: I just do.

  Fine. So what about Miguel, your saintly Obsidian: minstrel? Moonbeam: Uh, seems that Mr. Mitchell even arranged something for him—dinner out at a nice restaurant with a companion of his choice. And I’m not sure how I feel about that any more than spending the night in this creepy house!

  Obsidian: :indulgent: Calm down and tell your good “friend” Obsidian all about it...

  AFTER his odd meeting with his new employer, Nick wasted no time in protesting by phone to Cassandra Moore, Mr. Mitchells personal assistant, “I promised my boyfriend Id celebrate with him tonight. Uh, if I got the job. So you see, I cant possibly stay here in this house.”

  “ Yes, fortunately you mentioned your plans to one of my staff so I was able to have a car sent to your apartment and your friend is on his way even now for an evening on the house at Manticore.”

  “ Manticore?” Nicks fists balled at hearing the name of the exclusive club that had opened recently in town. From what hed heard, it possessed fine dining as well as a club for dancing. “But Miguel isnt into a place like that. He never goes to clubs except to perform his music.”

  “Apparently tonight he does,” Cassandra retorted calmly. “All thanks to Mr. Mitchell.”

  Nick took a deep breath, gritting his teeth. “Peachy! He seems to have me at a disadvantage.”

  “You have no idea.” Obsidian: It doesn’t sound that bad. How’s the food? Moonbeam: :munching: How do you know I’m eating?

  Obsidian: Please. You plus a well-stocked mini fridge? It sounds like your employer has done some research. Moonbeam: I guess. There are these chocolate truffles? I have this thing for fine chocolate but I can never afford the good shit so I don’t eat it very often.

  Obsidian: :purrs: Do you want to know what you can do with chocolates?

  Moonbeam: :groans: Please stop tormenting me! Obsidian: You torment yourself. If you do what I say, I’ll take care of you, pleasure you, give you release. Moonbeam: ...

  Obsidian: Nick? Moonbeam.

  Moonbeam: I’m here. You’re not a very good person, are you? I mean... You know I’m with someone else. Obsidian: I’m not the good guy, no. I am the villain. Moonbeam: Are you really? Then maybe you can tell me why Miguel would go to that club? I’ve heard some strange things about the place. We’ve always disapproved of clubbing anyway.

  Obsidian: :rolls eyes:

  Moonbeam: Don’t tell me you go there?

  Obsidian: I used to.

  Moonbeam: Primitive hunting grounds.

  Obsidian: Mmmmmm. Sweet prey.

  Moonbeam: :rolls eyes:

  Obsidian: Let’s not analyze your little boyfriend and if he’s enjoying what a place like Manticore offers. Moonbeam: Obsidian! Obsidian: Like you aren’t wondering. Be honest, Moonbeam; it wouldn’t be your “feelings” he’d bruise, but your ego. Don’t you ever wonder why he doesn’t fight harder to keep you away from me? Maybe he is looking for what he needs elsewhere, just like you. Moonbeam: I told you—!

  Obsidian: I know nothing about real relationships. Blah blah. So, chocolate? Or do you want to log off and pout? I… can’t stay long tonight.

  Moonbeam: One of your headaches? Chocolate. Obsidian: I’d remove whatever cheap cotton T-shirt you are wearing and bare your flesh. The pale lines of your chest, your pink nipples, the line of your neck when you arch it... Then I’d take one of those truffles and run it gently down the center of your body. Back...forth... before teasing your nipples. The chocolate would warm and melt against your skin so I’d have to put my mouth on you, taste you. Taste the chocolate, taste your skin, taste all of you.

  Moonbeam: Jesus! Obsidian.

  Obsidian: Are you touching yourself, you naughty boy? Come on, tell me you’re not. Moonbeam: ...

  Obsidian: Tell me.

  Moonbeam: Yes.

  Obsidian: I want you to buy a dildo soon. I’ve been thinking about just what model. Something ribbed with a nice bulbous head to nudge you with maximum effectiveness deep inside.

  Moonbeam: :blinks: Say what?

  Obsidian: A dildo. I want you to lube yourself and the toy and put me in. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Moonbeam: This isn’t real! Oh, Christ, I have to— Obsidian: I’ll feel pretty fucking “real” gripped in your hand. Shove me in and out, can’t get enough, legs spread, feet flat on the mattress, head turning back and forth, my name on your lips as you come.

  Moonbeam: I’ve never...!

  Obsidian: I will be your first. Does that excite you? Moonbeam: You know it does.

  Obsidian: Never be ashamed, my beautiful slut. You know you want to be that way for someone. You’re ready for this. Ready to belong to me. To lie under me.

  Moonbeam: Obsidian...! Please.

  Obsidian: Are you close? Don’t come until I say. I want you to ONLY come when I say.

  Moonbeam: I... Please? Please let me come! Obsidian: Come for me, Nick. I can see you on the center of that king-sized bed, legs sprawled, wanton, lit by candlelight, chocolates all over the yellow silk duvet... So fucking beautiful, my sleepy, naughty boy. All mine.

  Moonbeam: Yours! Obsidian: :wistful: I wish I could lick your skin right now. Taste the salt of your excitement, your come, the melted chocolate; bite down so I could almost drink you...

  Moonbeam: :panting: I wish... I know this is wrong. Obsidian: :lulls: Go to sleep now, Moonbeam.

  Moonbeam: ‘K. You’ll take something for your headache, right? I worry about those migraines you get. And...You really think I’m safe here, in this house?

  Obsidian: I told you I researched Mr. Kain Mitchell thoroughly. Seems he’s a...recluse but he doesn’t have a habit of chopping up little blond boys and serving them as an hors d’œuvre. Sleep now, angel.

  Moonbeam: Mmmmm.

  Obsidian: Has left the room.

  Moonbeam: :Sitting up, blinking: Obsidian? Wait, how did you know what color the duvet was?

  KAIN didnt need much light, not anymore. Still, he clos
ed his sensitive eyes, trying to block out the pounding in his skull.

  One thing could answer his pain. Soothe it. Distract him as always. And at last he was under Kains roof, where he should be.

  Nick. Kain got up from his chair and drifted through the library, taking in the books covered in dust bunnies. What must Nick think of his excuse for hiring him? Still, there were some older volumes here and a large collection of art books in the alcove.

  He should know since hed scoured some book dealers to collect them specially. He closed his eyes as he drifted into the hallway, fingertips brushing the wall. He could almost sense the warm trail left by Nick as he walked through the drafty space. Catch his scent almost, which he hadnt been able to detect in the crowded and over-warm Pancake House the first time hed been close to him.

  Nick was under his roof.

  A savage satisfaction gripped Kain as he unlocked Nicks bedroom door with his special key.

  Nick was sprawled over the large bed, face mashed into the pillow, arms out, hands curled like the abandoned fall leaves outdoors. Kain stared at him, knowing he should probably feel some qualms about what hed done to bring this young man under his roof. Cassandra had certainly scolded him.

  You are not yourself. How can you be so cruel and manipulative, Kain? Shed pressed him. But he d been willing to do anything from that first night when Nick had dared to debate with him over something trivial in the chat room. His passion, his innocence, had come through the wires, touching Kain. Fixing his attention so that hed shoved aside the boyfriend, brought Nick here at last.

  Even drugged a couple of the chocolate truffles he knew Nick couldnt resist because hed certainly observed him eating chocolate pancakes with chocolate syrup and raspberries on his break.

  Nothing too heavy in the candy, just something to relax Nick so Kain could be close to him the way he needed.

  “I dont want to hurt you,” he whispered. “Nick….”

  A gloved hand reached out, stroked the pale back, from the knob of the slender, fragile neck and down the slope that led to a rounded ass. Kain cupped it, closing his eyes. Squeezing gently.

  Shit! He wanted—

  Nick snuffled into his pillow, shifting his legs and then turning over onto his back, baring his body to Kains hungry gaze.

  Seeing Nick so vulnerable hurt Kain. He had the urge to protect him as much as to take him. He closed his eyes now, reliving watching Nick perform through one of the cameras. How hed lost himself, doing everything Obsidian asked, giving himself completely.

  Kain had burned with lust and frustration, locked in his study, locked in his other persona, and unable to go to Nick, to truly make contact.

  But how would Nick react if he saw Kain, his true face? Kain took a deep breath, flashing back to shortly after the fire, hiring someone and not taking enough care in hiding himself. His gut twisted.

  Nick couldnt turn him away like that, could he?

  In the chat room he desired Obsidian, responded to him eagerly, wanting his domination, his care. Unable to resist, Kain pushed Nick s legs open a little wider. When he didnt stir, he pressed his face against the young mans soft bush, inhaling his scent of innocence, chocolate, and come.

  Nick. MIGUEL passed through the colored beads which led into the club portion of Manticore. He squinted as sudden light struck his eyes, the color working over the walls in warm washes of scarlets, sunflower yellows.

  Colors he knew Nick would love. He shook his head, shoving aside thoughts of his boyfriend. It wasnt working out and they both knew it, but he knew that Nick didnt want to hurt him by breaking it off.

  Maybe tonight Miguel would be the one to take that step? He looked around at the tiny tables with couples, gay and straight, the male and female serving staff wearing thongs only over muscled and oiled bodies, so a customer had the feeling they could reach out and touch. A stage act was in progress, looking like some kind of erotic magic act given the nudity of the people on stage, dominated by a man in leather.

  Miguel s eyes were caught by a compelling blue gaze. The entertainer gestured him closer to the half-moon stage. The man wasnt much taller than Miguel and had swept-back black hair with a dramatic white streak. His tanned face had creases by his eyes, signaling he was much older than Miguels early twenties. Yet there was something compelling about that face, a knowing sensuality stamped into the prominent bones and heavy-lidded eyes.

  Normally Miguel would head for the shadows at being so exposed. Only his music mattered, and his memory of how hed felt with Nick once upon a time, when theyd first met.

  “ Dont be shy,” the man coaxed, talking into his mike, yet his eyes holding Miguels startled gaze created intimacy, as if they were totally alone. “Come closer. Ive been waiting for you, Miguel. Im Siren, your host for the evening.”

  NICK felt oddly languid when he woke up. Even though his head was fucking pounding! He blinked, sitting up in the luxurious bed, taking in scattered wrappers from the candy hed eaten, the afghan he didnt remember wrapping around himself, the warmth in the room when he didnt remember turning up the heat.

  Something felt off. His thoughts, body.

  Scratching his inner thigh, Nick discovered the skin was pink, as if it had been chafed by something.

  Beard burn?

  He remembered being sleepy, despite eating the chocolate, which usually left him wired.

  He closed his eyes and seemed to feel again the brush of sensitive and possessive fingers, touching his skin, exploring him. Moonbeam: You’re Kain Mitchell, aren’t you?

  Obsidian: ...

  Moonbeam: I know you’re there, reading this, watching me! I found a camera in my room this morning while I was shaving. You...watched me last night, maybe even came in my room and—

  Obsidian: Yes, I watched you. Why not? You were only feeling what I made you feel, after all. Moonbeam: Fuck! My job on campus, my coming here... It was all your doing, wasn’t it? You’re stalking me for real.

  Obsidian: Your new job pays better and you can’t say you don’t already have a unique form of rapport with your employer.

  Moonbeam: Lucky me! I can’t believe the extent of your manipulations. I just met you in a chat room and you’ve invaded my life, watched me, interfered with my long running relationship; in short, played with me as if I’m a toy!

  Obsidian: You’d like being my toy. There’s some Tylenol in the drawer by the bed.

  Moonbeam: And how did you know I had a headache? Obsidian: I know you. I know your default is to be kind even at the expense of your own feelings. I know you hide from yourself unless you are painting, or talking to me.

  Moonbeam: You don’t know me at all! Now I want you to unlock this door—which I only now discovered was locked—and let me out of your house.

  Obsidian: Of course. You’ll need to bail out your friend, anyway.

  Moonbeam: What? Obsidian: Miguel, the one you refer to as your “boyfriend”. He got himself into some kind of trouble last night outside the club Manticore. He’s at the station house downtown.

  Moonbeam: This is your doing, isn’t it? You did something, tricked him!

  Obsidian: Hardly. But I’m sure I could be of help. If you make it worth my while.

  Moonbeam: I won’t listen to this.

  Obsidian: Fine. The door is now open. Walk out and never mind helping poor Miguel. Moonbeam: Obsidian— Mr. Mitchell— Whathefuckever! You took an unhealthy interest in me and fucked up my life! I knew as soon as I woke up that I was dealing with the same mystery man.

  Obsidian: You are exceptionally bright, yes. You felt me. Moonbeam: Wait. You wanted me to know? A trail of bread crumbs, describing my bed when you talked to me? You wanted me to know you’re Kain Mitchell!

  Obsidian: Let’s not forget that I also brought you to climax. Left you smiling and satisfied. As I have for weeks now, if you were honest with yourself, with me.

  Moonbeam: Your ends do not justify the means. Obsidian: Unless you get your end away.

  Moonbeam: Wh
y do this? Why did you want me to know the truth of who you are? You had to know I’d be pissed! Obsidian: I wish to touch you. Careful packing up your art supplies. Must you slop everything together in that pathetic knapsack? Ha! Nice giving me the finger. Feisty. Should I put that on your personnel file?

  Moonbeam: You have no fucking idea!

  Obsidian: Nick, I thought it would be easier.

  Moonbeam: Easier for whom?

  Obsidian: Me, of course.

  Moonbeam: Of course! Well, goodbye, Obs— Mr. Mitchell.

  Obsidian: Wait. I meant what I said. I can help your friend.

  Moonbeam: For a price.

  Obsidian: Nothing is free in this world. And since I’m already a villain in your eyes, why not?

  Moonbeam: Forget it! I don’t want to ever hear from you again! This ends now.

  Obsidian: Nick, I know you’re a trusting person and… I regret if I hurt you.

  Nick shivered, hearing a whisper: I don’t want to hurt you. Feeling hands on him. Hands he wanted, if he were honest with himself.

  Moonbeam: Setting me up like a fool? Why would that hurt me? I LIKED you. Obsidian: I...like you too.

  AT THE police station, Nick finally managed to see Miguel, who was unshaven, wearing wrinkled clothing that smelled of alcohol.

  “Nick!” Miguel hugged Nick, pressing his face against his neck and closing his eyes.

  “Are you aware of what they have you in here for?” Nick rasped, pulling away. Eyes on fire, Miguel growled, “I was drunk. I never should have gone to that place, but I cant deny that something happened last night, Nick.”

  “You cant blame the venue for your actions!” Nick exclaimed. “My God, Miguel, sex in a public place just to start!” Miguel rubbed the back of his neck. “Im sorry. I dont… I dont remember much after I watched a stage act. But I did take part somehow. Nick, look at me, please! Im sorry. I love you enough to want to be honest with you, and on the bright side, I think I found what I was looking for to get over my hang-ups.”

  Nick turned away, taking a deep breath.

  “You got what you needed from someone else. Not me.” “Yes, same as you, if youre honest.”

  Nick swallowed and confessed, “Ive just been so lonely.” “I know youre angry, disappointed.”