Date: Mon, 23 Feb 2015 20:15:28 -0800
From: Sellar Dhor <sellardhor@gmail.com>
Subject: Evil is a Man: Blood In Blood Out chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

If you like what you're reading, let me know: SellarDhor@gmail.com.
And let me know where you want the story to go and who you want Jake to end
up with.
And if you have any ideas for the future, let me know, I might include them.


       JANUARY 7th


       I spent the next morning being tortured by Cornelius as he made me
start to memorize every person on the wedding's guest list, if they were
related to the Logans or not, and which of them were from other powerful
families in the Territory.  He seemed to expect that I would be able to
absorb it all in one sitting, but by eleven o'clock, I only had about a
third of it down.  While I excelled in the memorization of subjects that
interested me, such as math or science, history, or sports, I was laughably
bad at memorizing those areas that held no importance for me, such as
narrative details or celebrity gossip.  The fact that all of this Logan
family tedium was paired with many other more important matters on my mind
produced the worst potential outcome for me.  Cornelius finally dismissed
me, obviously a little troubled.
       After stopping in the mess hall for a really quick lunch, I headed
out to eastern exit of the mansion into the riding grounds, upset with
myself that I was running behind.  I found Boyd once again holding that box
of axes.
       "Sorry I'm late!" I said.
       "Jake, you're only three minutes late."
       "Still, I hate being late."
       "It's no problem," he said.  "Come with me back to the throwing
targets."
       He led me back to the area where those log slices had been serving
as targets, but this time, he led me past there to a wooden wall erected in
the middle of the dust.
       "What's this for?" I asked.
       "Remember how I told you yer gonna hate me after today?  Well, this
is why.  This is what you'll be throwing at."
       From behind the wall, he grabbed a wooden, painted bullseye and
propped it up in front of us against the wall.  It was oddly shaped, much
taller than it was wide, with five different colored areas, with the center
of the bullseye in black.  The oddest part was that instead of circles and
rings, I realized that this bullseye was shaped like a cartoon man.
       "What's so scary about that?" I asked, grabbing one of the axes from
the box, and standing behind the fifteen foot line.  "It kind of reminds me
of those man-shaped paper targets they have in modern shooting galleries."
       "This bullseye has been specially designed for me, Jake," Boyd said.
He walked up to it and stood up against it with his back to the board.
"See?"
       I realized that the pattern on the bullseye had been perfectly
matched to his body.  "I don't understand," I said.
       "The point of this event ain't to have you throw axes at a target
made of dead wood," he said.  "The point of this event is to have you
launch axes at a living target.  The live body of yer rodeo partner."
       "Wait, I'm supposed to throw these axes at you while you're still
standing against the target?"
       "Bingo."
       "That's nuts!"
       "I told you Jericho invented this one."
       "I'm not doing this event; I refuse to play his game."
       "That's up to you, Jake.  Competing in the rodeo isn't compulsory,
you can bow out of it if you'd like."
       "Too much is on the line for me to give up, I'm afraid," I said.
"What I meant was, couldn't I skip this one event and still win overall?"
       "I'm not sure about that, but it seems unlikely.  I think my advice
to you would be to prepare to play all the events, yet try to lessen the
danger as much as possible.  Like in this event, here.  Lemme show ya
exactly how I'm expected to be standing."
       He pushed his back against the target, opening his legs slightly,
and putting his arms out in a crucifixion-like position, head up.
       "Notice there are five colors here.  The black bullseye gives you
five points, red four points, orange three points, yellow two points, and
white one point."
       "What if the axe hits more than one color?" I asked.
       "Then you get the lesser color's points," he said.  "That's why it's
so important to try and cleanly get your blade into a whole color zone.
Now, take a good look at where the black is accessible to you."
       I looked carefully at the target, and noticed his body was blocking
most of the black color.  "There's only like two inches of black around
your whole body," I said.  And then there was about two inches of each of
the other colors on the outside of the black.
       "Right, though my body itself actually counts for five points, as
long as the axe sticks and doesn't fall out.  Not that you should be aiming
for my body, of course.  Tell me the places where there's more black
besides those two inches around the outside of me."
       I looked at the board.  "There's black all through the space between
your thighs."
       "For those daring enough to risk castrating their partners."
       "Yikes.  And there's also a whole lot of black around your hands."
       "I'm required to keep my fingers wide open," he said.  "That means
if you try to go for the space around one of my hands, you could easily cut
a finger off."
       "I promise not to aim for your hands!"
       "'Cause us blood drinkers can't grow back fingers, or any other more
important appendages," he said.  "So, if ya have to risk hitting your
partner, you'll want to stick to areas that you might accidentally cut, but
not completely sever, like around yer partner's side."
       "How many shots do I have?"
       "You throw the axes three times, meaning you have a chance of
getting fifteen points."
       "Oh great, three chances of accidentally decapitating someone, just
my luck."
       "I'm gonna assume you'll be aiming for the easy colors, at least to
practice with me," he said
       "How about you move completely out of the area and let me practice
with just the target board first?"
       "What an excellent suggestion."
       He stepped away from the board, and I threw my first axe, which
bounced off the board and landed on the ground.  "Whoops, I forgot about my
sweet spot."  I took a step back from the line, and then launched another
axe, which landed perfectly that time.
       "Three points," Boyd said.  "That would have been a perfectly fine
shot."
       "The subtext being, I wouldn't have chopped you to pieces."
       "Exactly."
       I threw the axes dozens of times, getting my precision as good as
possible, before he finally stopped me.
       "You've got a real natural gift for this," he said.  "You're ready
for the real thing.  I want you to practice with me on the board now."
       "Are you sure?  I don't want to hurt you."
       "You're not even going to touch me, Jake.  I just want you to aim
for the far outside of the target.  Even one point for now is fine."
       "Maybe I should just wait until the actual event," I said.  "I don't
want to needlessly endanger anyone."
       "You need to practice with a body on the board, Jake.  It's not the
same as throwing at a blank target.  Throwing at a person is a whole
`nother experience."
       He walked in front of the target, and then shook his head.
       "Wait a minute here," he said.  "I'm cheating ya.  In the real
competition, there's a small difference that will give you extra room to
hit."
       "Which is?"
       "I'm supposed to be naked," he said, starting to kick off his boots.
       "Naked?  Are you joking?"
       "Nope.  It's part of the requirement of the person standing on the
target."  He pulled off his buckskin shirt, leaving his powerful upper body
nude.
       "I hope children aren't allowed to watch these events."
       He laughed.  "They aren't.  A rodeo ain't no place for children,
Jake."
       He pulled his jeans off, leaving him totally and beautifully naked,
and he positioned himself in front of the board.  I raised my axe,
pretending to carefully assess my target, while really, I took a moment to
admire his naked body.  His bare form looked just as beautiful when it
wasn't wet.  He had his arms up and open against the board, making his
smooth arm muscles totally pop.  His shoulders, flexed and round, were just
above those masculine pits sprouting wiry black armpit hairs.  His huge
pecs held his large, dark nipples, and his abs were beyond ripped.  With no
hair to speak of, his muscles were about as defined as I could have
imagined.
       That muscled v-line led to his black bush, and beneath it that
enormous hose lay limp, veins bulging all the way to his pinkish/brown
dickhead.
       "See, now you can see why the space down here is all black," he
said, dropping his right hand between his thighs, pushing his fabulous,
hefty dick out of the way as he did, the head swinging like a pendulum.
        "Because I could easily severe you from your penis permanently," I
said.
       "Yes, precisely.  So please don't aim for that area."
       "I'm aiming for your far right side," I said.  "But well beneath
your right arm."  I lined up my shot.  "Ae you sure you want me to do
this?"
       "Yup."
       I noticed a slight tremble invade my right hand, as anxiety snaked
its way into my brain.  I was terrified of hurting this man, but that's the
chance I had to take.
       I threw the axe.  Because of the nervousness, my hand wasn't as
steady as it should have been, and I knew instantly that my aim was off.
       Lucky for me, the bad aiming moved the axe to my left instead of to
my right, the axe barely connecting on the far outside ring of the target.
       "A one point hit," said Boyd.  "Good, that's just fine."
       "It's not what I was aiming for," I said.  "I need to work on
steadying my hand."
       "Try again," he said.  "This time, try for the other side."
       I tilted to my right and lined up the opposite shot.  I worked at
calming my nerves this time, and when I threw the axe, it was right where I
had been aiming for.
       "A two pointer," he said.  "Nice one!  Ya want to practice some
more?"
       "I think I've got my nerves under control, Boyd," I said.  "No need
to make you take any unneeded chances by sticking to that board.  I can
practice this later under less risky circumstances."
       "Then I might as well put my clothes back on," he said, and then he
sadly started to do that very thing.  "Ya know, there's another side to
this event."
       "Uh oh, by the apprehensive tone in your voice, I'm guessing it's
all kinds of terrible.  Please don't tell me it involves me being trampled
by horses or tied up to train tracks."
       "It's nearly as bad, I'm afraid," he said.  "It has the non-fanged
partner naked on the target, just like I've been doing, with the fanged
partner throwing the axes on the board."
       I groaned.  "So, you're telling me, Syd is going to throw axes at my
unprotected body?"
       "Yup."
       I shook my head.  "No, that's just not happening."  I wiped the
sweat off my brow, considering.  "Okay, so maybe I'd rather get chopped to
pieces by axes then let Jericho kill my family.  I can't believe I'm saying
this, but I consent.  That means Syd better know what he's doing ahead of
time.  No more lollygagging.  But there's no way in heck I'm going to offer
myself as the target in practice.  No need to risk limb loss until the
actual event, I'd say."
       "Actually, it's very important that you practice this one ahead of
time," he said.  "Not practicing will be more dangerous to you in the long
run, and you will surely lose this event.  Let's try it out right now."
       "Umm, okay, I guess."
       "First off, ya just need to get used to being against the target,"
he said.  "Now, for the real deal, they'll make a target board for you that
is measured to your form, but for now, why doncha just use mine?"
       "Okay," I said, approaching the bullseye.
       "Don't forget to strip down," he said.
       "Can't we just pretend I'm naked?" I asked.
       "Nope," he said.  "It's just not the same.  The danger you feel when
you're on the board swinging free is so much more palpable than if you were
clothed.  I don't wanna see ya get a panic attack on the day of yer
competition `cause it's the first time you do it in the nude."
       "Alright," I consented, starting to pull off my shirt.
       When I had stripped naked and remained shivering in the buff, Boyd
looked over my body and said, "Go ahead and place yourself against the
board just like I was."
       I placed my naked back, butt, head, and legs against the target,
hoping I wouldn't get any splinters.
       Boyd marched over until he was literally inches from my naked front,
and I could smell his manly sweat smell mixed with leather.  "You're off
center," he said, putting his strong hands on my hips and pushing me
slightly to the right.  Then he looked me over again.  "There.  Here, yer
arms need to be raised."
       He grabbed my arms and pulled them out and up until they were in a
crucifixion pose, then I spread my fingers apart.
       "And yer legs."
       He kneeled down, grabbed my naked thighs with his strong hands and
pulled them open, and I positioned my feet more apart as well.
       "Good," he said, getting back to his feet.  "Now, I'm gonaa head
back to the line and throw one at ya."
       "Do you really have to?" I asked.
       "Doncha worry, I never miss."  He grabbed some axes and walked
towards the line, but then he kept on walking right past it.
       "Aren't you going to throw from the line?"
       "My line is back here," he said.
       He went to a second line in the dust that I hadn't noticed before
because it was twice the distance of the fifteen foot line I'd been
required to throw from.  "God, please get me through this," I muttered
quietly.
       When he was lined up behind the line, he said, "I'm throwing my
first one.  Ready?"
       "As ready as I'll ever be.  I'm shutting my eyes.  Just tell me when
it's over, assuming I'm still alive."
       "Concentrate on staying absolutely still.  If you move at all, I'll
get a zero on that throw, and you could lose a limb."
       "Okay, I'm focusing on being as still as a Zen statue."
       "Throwing!"
       I jumped as I felt the target board behind me slam, hearing the axe
blade stab into the wood.
       "You can't jump like that!" he complained.  "You just negated my
three points."
       "It's hard not to jump when you know there's a huge axe flying
towards you!" I complained.
       "I'm gonna keep throwing until you learn to be still," he said.
"Here comes the next one."
       The axe landed to my left side, and I jumped just as much as the
last time.  It took almost a dozen throws before I had it mastered, not
letting the axe hits disturb me.
       "Okay, that's all well and good," Boyd said.  "But technically
you've been cheatin' this whole time."
       "I have not!" I said, indignant.
       "You have too, `cause yer eyes have been shut.  In the real deal,
you gotta keep those eyes open and locked onto mine.  Why doncha try it."
       I opened my eyes and stared out at Boyd's form, wielding yet another
axe in his hand.  From so far away, the axe looked small in stature.  "I
can do this."
       "Here it comes."
       He threw it, and it was uncanny how fast it moved towards me, and
how quickly it turned from a small blob in my field of vision to something
that seemed to stretch all across it.  I realized he was throwing above my
head, and when the axe landed as close as it did to me, it scared me.
       "We lose again," he said.  "You managed three disqualifications this
time."
       "Three?  What were they?"
       "You took your eyes off of mine when you looked at the axe, you
blinked when the axe got close, and you jumped when the axe hit."
       "Sorry.  Throw another one, I'll get it this time."
       When he threw the next axe, I concentrated on locking my eyes on his
and ignoring the axe looming towards me.  That seemed to work; that is,
until the blade hit the board.  When it did, not focusing on it just made
me jump even more.  "I'm sorry, this is very, very difficult," I said.
       Boyd dropped the axes and walked over to me.  "Jake, do you trust
me?"
       "Yes," I said.  "If not, I would never let you throw deadly axes at
me."
       "I don't believe that," he said.  "If ya did, you wouldn't be
flinching like ya do."
       "Maybe, unconsciously, I still have a smidge of trust issues."
       He put a strong hand on my naked shoulder.  "You're a thinkin' man,
I know.  All logical and what not.  You need to logically understand that
I'm a highly skilled, extremely well trained axe thrower.  I can do these
kinds of throws in my sleep without ever endangering the person on the
board."
       "No, I understand that, Boyd.  You'll always end up sinking the
blade in within a few millimeters of your intended target."
       "So, if your trust in my skills is unchallenged, that must mean you
don't have trust in my character."  He looked into my eyes, dismay on his
face.  "That's a more deep seated issue, I'm afraid."
       "Once again, let me assure you it's unconscious."
       He nodded.  "I have an exercise I want you to try to help you boost
your confidence in me."
       "Please don't tell me you want me to do Trust Falls with you."
       He raised an eyebrow.  "Try what?"
       "Sorry, I guess Trust Falls never made it into the limited Territory
lexicon.  Be very thankful for that.  Sure, Boyd, I'll do anything you
want."
       "I want you to put your arms down for now and just try to relax."
       I let my hands leave the target and dangle at my side, trying to be
as relaxed as possible considering I was standing there naked against a
giant dartboard.  "There, I'm all relaxed now."
       Boyd reached out his hand to my right traps muscle, and squeezed.
"You still feel tense as all hell to me."
       "Well, I didn't tense until you touched me there," I said.
       "That's exactly the point, ain't it?  If you can't trust me with me
touching you, you'll never trust me enough to let me throw an axe at ya."
       "You're right, of course," I said.  "But sometimes it's hard for me
just to make myself relax."
       "Here, turn around," he said, spinning me around so I was facing
away from him towards the target.  He started to massage my shoulders.
"The more you familiarize yourself with my touch, the more you associate it
with positives, the easier this will be.  You just concentrate on giving up
to me and relaxing."
       I shut my eyes and let him knead my shoulders, then my back.  When
he got down to my lower back, I wondered if he would take the massage
farther down, but his hands never touched my butt.  If they had, that might
have excited my pleasure center and gotten my endorphins going, ending my
relaxation in the process.  Instead, the chaste massage kept me relaxed.
       "Yeah, that's it," he said.  "Now that yer feeling all loose, I want
ya to turn around."
       He carefully spun me back around to face him.  Then he embraced me
in a tight hug, pressing his clothed body against my naked one, his arms
wrapping around my body.
       He looked at me seriously.  "I want you to know that I'm your
friend, Jake, and you can trust me," he stated.
       I made myself believe it, made myself trust him.  "Alright, I
believe you, Boyd," I said.
       "Are you sure?" he asked.  "Because if you still need some trust
boosting, I could do this all day."
       "I'm sure," I said.
       He smiled and went back to his line in the dirt, grabbing his axes
on the way.  "Alright, get ready."
       I concentrating on trusting Boyd's skills and judgment, keeping my
body relaxed on my eyes locked on his.  "Ready."
       He threw the axe, and once again it went over my head.  I stayed
completely unmoving and unflinching through the whole thing.
       "Yee-haw, ya did it!" he hollered, jumping up excitedly.
       "Alright, now that's enough axe throwing for one day," I said.
"Thanks Boyd."
       We put away the axes and headed back towards the mansion.  "Ya want
to hit the showers again?"  he asked.
       Just when I was about to give him an affirmation out of habit,
Parker appeared from the mansion, smiling big at both of us.  "Hi Jake," he
said, noticing Boyd was with me.  "Hello, Mr. Slade," he said, shaking
Boyd's hand nicely.
       "Hello, Mr. Logan."
       "Jake has told me how valuable you've been to him as a trainer," he
said, not the slightest bit of irony or jealousy in his voice.  "Thank you
dearly for helping with this matter."
       "Glad to help, glad to help," Boyd said.
       "Are you ready to learn how to rope, Jake?" he asked to me.
       "Sure am."
       "A roping lesson?" Boyd asked.  "Right now?  We just had a lesson
here, Mr. Logan.  I don't want Jake to overreach himself too much in one
day.  I'd be perfectly fine teaching him myself tomorrow."
       "Alright, if that's what the two of you think is best," Parker said
pleasantly.
       I tried to weigh my options.  I was extremely attracted to both of
these men, and if I hadn't had to present the illusion that I was engaged
to Syd, I would have asked both of them on dates by then.  Both men were
great people, I knew.  Boyd was extremely appealing in an opposites attract
kind of way, while I had never met someone as similar to myself as Parker
was.
       But Boyd didn't know the truth about the engagement, and that meant
I wasn't free to openly hit on him, even when it was just the two of us
around.  There was no such barrier with Parker.
       "It's okay, Boyd, I'm not tired at all," I said.  "The axe throwing
really wasn't physically demanding.  I'll learn this one from Parker, and
I'll show you what I've learned in tomorrow's session."
       "Alright, if that's what you'd prefer," he said, looking just a bit
disappointed.  "Good luck to both of you."  He walked off into the outdoor
bathroom alone, but not before Parker gave him a pleasant goodbye
handshake.  Even if he had been overruled, it was impossible for anyone to
be mad at Parker.
       Parker took a moment to look out at the various people practicing on
horseback in the fields ahead of us.  "Ah, I miss being able to compete in
the rodeo," he said.  "That was one of the hardest things I had to adjust
to after I lost my leg.  Of course, Jericho has turned all of the things I
love about the rodeo and made it putrid and foul.  He's taken time honored
events and made them needlessly dangerous.  Started mistreating the
animals, involving these boosted creatures."
       "Like the axe throwing event, which I learned today," I said.
"Clearly the invention of someone highly deranged."
       "Jericho," Parker said.
       "Somehow I can't picture you being a rodeo star," I said.  "Maybe
it's the suit you're wearing."
       He smiled.  "I know you think I'm just a cerebral person, but
there's a huge physical side to me as well.  There weren't many athletic
opportunities for us growing up except for the rodeo."
       "Well, I hope that means Syd has some experience as well."
       "He does," Parker said.  "We learned together.  But Syd always was
constrained by his lack of motivation.  He loves to win, and he adores
being the center of attention.  You'll see, he has a very flashy style to
him.  He devoted himself to mastering the rodeo so he could hear the people
screaming his name in the stands, so that he would land more women.  But I
devoted myself to the rodeo because I loved the horses, loved the artistry
of the events.  I actually disliked the actual competitions because I had
no need to validate the skills I had worked hard for in front of an
audience or boost my ego by besting a competitor.  Eventually, my
dedication and hard work started putting me ahead of Syd and ahead of most
others in the Territory as well."  His smile faded.  "But that was before
my accident."  He pointed to the stables.  "Come on, let's get our horses."
       When we got into the stables, Parker looked around disapprovingly.
Donnie was nowhere to be seen.
       "What disarray this is in!  Jake, which one is your horse?" he asked
as we walked in.
       "I don't own a horse, Parker."
       "But there's a bunch of horses that belong to the Logan Blood that
are for public use.  There's a couple rodeo events that will have you
riding on a boosted Clydesdale with Syd, but the other events will require
you to ride on your own.  It's important that you pick out a horse that is
suited to your personality.  Riding is like a marriage, Jake.  You need to
pick out an animal that understands you, and you it.  And you need to work
just with that animal as much as you can in order to establish your
relationship."
       "So, is one of these your horse?" I asked.
       "The one in the last stall," he said.  "Her name is Curie.  She
might be on the smaller side, but I chose her because she's one of the
smartest horses around.  She can be a bit strong-willed, but when she's
being accommodating, she responds to my body well.  I want you to establish
the same rapport with your animal.  Now, they'll only let you pick out one
horse to reserve just for you.  Which means, inevitably, you'll need to
ride someone else's horse during the rodeo competition, because you'll need
to use both a standard horse and a large Clydesdale.  So you have a
decision to make.  Do you pick out a normal sized horse, or a boosted one?"
       "Yours is a normal horse?"
       "Yes.  Because for me, I'm certainly not selecting a horse based on
rodeo potential.  I'm picking horses that will be good for everyday riding.
I don't ever need the extra size of a Clydesdale."
       "Well, I'm really just here because I'm competing in the rodeo," I
said.  "How many rodeo events will I compete in that will be using a
standard horse?"
       "Two."
       "And how many require a Clydesdale?"
       "Three."
       "Clydesdale it is."
       "Most excellent. Let's see if we can find your partner."  He led me
into the first stall.
       All I really wanted for a partner was him, but I knew it wouldn't be
appropriate to tell him that.  I looked up at the horse in the first stall,
a very pretty spotted Clydesdale stallion.  "How am I supposed to know
which one is best suited to me?" I asked.
       "It's just intuition," he said.
       I reached out my hand to touch the stallion's nose, and he snapped
his mouth, nearly biting me.
       "Careful, Jake!" Parker said, stepping between me and the horse,
bravely protective of me.  "Perhaps this one isn't meant to be your match."
       "I hope not, I rather enjoy having all ten of my fingers."
       He laughed.  "We'll find your horse, don't worry."  He started to
lead me towards the next stall.
       "Maybe now's a good time to confess that I've never really been an
animal lover."
       "I was absolutely surrounded by animals from the earliest of ages,"
Parker said.  "You must have had at least a dog or cat growing up, right?"
       "Nope," I said.  "Mom was deathly allergic."
       "What don't you like about animals?" Parker asked.
       "They're dirty, unpredictable, and they smell bad."
       Parker laughed.  "They're only dirty or smelly if you let them get
that way," he said.
       "Plus, they're not exactly our intellectual equals."
       "True.  But neither is my brother, and I still love him."
       "That makes one of us.  Besides, you just love him because he's
family and you have to."
       "Oh, right, I guess that's why I'm just overflowing with love for my
father too," he joked.  "Anyway, you told me you always were good with kids
and wanted to be a father, right?"
       "That's right."
       "Have you ever actually taken care of little children?  It's not
always easy or clean, you know."
       "I know," I said.  "But I do my best to keep them as clean as
possible."
       "Well, animals are the same way.  Just think of them as little
children.  Look, I like my cleanliness just as much as you do, and that's
why I keep my animals very well groomed.  I look after their needs, treat
them with respect.  It's just like being a father.  And similarly rewarding
in the end, let me assure you."
       "Okay, I'll try to look at it that way."
       "What about this animal?" Parker asked, pointing to a beautiful
black mare in the next stall.
       I reached my hand out to her, and she didn't bite me.  "Oooh, I like
her already," I said.
       But she wouldn't even look me in the eye.  Instead, she moved her
face towards Parker.
       "She likes you better than me," I said.  "I can't blame her."
       "No she doesn't."
       The horse nuzzled her nose into Parker's chest.
       "Okay, maybe she does.  Don't pick this one.  Her taste is suspect.
Onto the next one."
       We walked into the next stall, and I gasped in surprise, not because
I almost ran into the large Clydesdale's head, but because of the shocking
sight of Donnie lying on top of the animal, completely naked on the saddle.
He had his butt in the air and his lubed fingers ramming inside himself.
       "Mmm, sexy cowboy, come on up here and give me the ride of my life
on this horse," he said.
       As soon as Parker saw how naked he was and what he was doing, his
face went bright red, and he averted his eyes and shielded his face with
his hand.  "Pardon us, we'll leave you alone," Parker said apologetically,
pulling me away from the stall.
       "Little Miss Complainer can leave," Donnie said, clearly meaning me.
"But I've been waiting up here for you to fuck me forever, and my finger
just ain't gonna do the trick."
       Parker continued to avert his gaze.  "Kind sir, I must rebuke you
for needlessly criticizing and emasculating my dear friend, Jake.  And I
must decline your offer--"
       "Oh, cut out the fancy-talk Syd," Donnie said.
       "Ah, we have the meat of it there, you've mistaken me for my brother
Syd.  We are a regular pair of doppelgangers."
       "You're not Syd?" he asked, dismounting the horse at long last and
getting his first good look at Parker.  "Damn, you look and sound so
similar."
       Parker was able to look him in the eye and smile without seeing his
nakedness because he was standing so close.  "I'm sorry, I think we got off
on the wrong foot.  I'm Parker Logan."  He extended a friendly hand.
"You're Mr. --?"
       "Donnie's the name."
       "Just Donnie?"
       "Yup, that's what I said."
       "Well, feel free to call me Parker," he said.  "I've heard about
you.  You're the new master of stables in Mareshead, aren't you?"
       "Yup."
       "Splendid."
       "And you, Parker, are every bit as studly looking as your brother,
which is impossible to believe."
       Parker turned red again, and smiled.  "Well, thank you, though I
must disagree."
       "But there's one area where I'm sure you can't possibly measure up,"
Donnie said.  He stuck his hand right into Parker's suit crotch package and
copped a feel.
       "Whoa, hey now!" Parker said, jumping back away from him, not
standing for that sort of behavior.
       "Holy shit, stud, ya got nothing to hide there," Donnie said.  "Yer
just as hung as yer brother, I'd guess.  Want me to pull it out and measure
it just to be sure?"
       "No thanks," Parker said.  "Somehow the matter just seems so trivial
to me.  Donnie, they've given you appropriate clothing, I hope."
       "Can't complain."
       "Would you mind putting something on?" Parker asked nicely.
       "I only put my clothes back on after a huge, hung stud has given me
the fucking of a lifetime," he said, and then he mounted his horse again,
and resumed his fingering.  "How about you climb up on this here horse and
you show me what you can do?  I don't think you can possibly resist me once
you get a good look at how hot my hole is."
       But Parker quickly looked away, mortified.  "Wow, Donnie, that is a
very, very flattering offer," said Parker with total sincerity, even if I
had said the line, it would be dripping with sarcasm.  I guessed that when
Parker was embarrassed, he tended to ramble, which was adorable.  "I'm
sorry I'll have to decline."
       Donnie rolled his eyes.  "Your loss."
       "I'm sure it is," Parker said, again without sarcasm.  "That's okay,
we'll stop bothering you, sir.  We're just picking out a horse for Jake,
here.  Have a good day."  Parker turned towards me, away from Donnie on his
horse.
       "Ack, I'm falling, help me!" yelled Donnie suddenly as he slid off
his horse.
       "I've got you!" yelled Parker, who spun around to help.  He caught
Donnie in his arms and stopped him from falling to the ground.  As soon as
he did, Donnie quickly and nimbly moved around in Parker's arms until his
hole was right in his face.
       "Just try to avoid my hot hole now, I dare ya!" he said.  "Go on and
give it a lick!"
       "No, this is completely inappropriate!" Parker said, trying to
wrestle himself free.
       I stepped in and helped pull Donnie off of Parker and onto the
ground.  "You faked that fall just so you could compromise Parker, didn't
you?"
       "Of course," he said.  "And if it had been Syd, that would have
worked.  Hell, if it had been Syd, we'd already be fucking for like twenty
minutes by now."
        "Enough of this, Donnie.," Parker said.  "I'm sorry, but I'm just
not interested in you.  Please stop these advances."
       "Alright, fuck."
       "Come on, Jake, let's find your horse."  He led me into the next
stall.
       "Oh, that one ain't an option," Donnie said, following us over
there.
       "Why not?" Parker asked.
       "Well, just look at him, he's fucked.  Missing his ear, and scars
all over him.  Used to be a fine rodeo horse, supposed to be damn smart,
and big and muscular, but was caught in a barn fire, and now he's all
wrecked and mangled.  They want me to send him out to be a draft animal in
our farms, but no farmer's gonna accept that ugly beast.  Nobody can stand
to even touch him.  He's good for nothing, and I was just gonna take him
out and shoot him later today."  Donnie leaned in and spit on the horse to
show his disgust.
       "What's his name?" Parker asked.
       "Patches," Donnie said.  "Pretty funny considering all his patches
burned off."
       "Jake, maybe you should try with the horse," Parker said.
       "Are you kidding me?" I asked, looking at the massively intimidating
horse.  "He's going to kill me."
       "Yeah, you insane?" Donnie asked.
       "I'll be here," Parker said.  "I can move faster than he can, and
I'll make sure you're safe.  Just stick out your hand."
       I stuck my hand out cautiously towards the creature.  Surprisingly,
the hand remained intact, and there was no need for Parker to intervene, as
he let me touch him on the nose.  His skin was so absolutely covered with
burn scars.  I rubbed up and down the horse's muzzle gently.
       "That's it," Parker whispered.
       "Hi there, Patches, I'm Jake."
       The horse nuzzled me in the chest.
       "Jake, I think we've found your horse."
       "I guess I have."
       "No ya ain't," Donnie said.  "I'm still gonna shoot that one later
today."
       "No, Donnie, listen to me," Parker said.  "You're not going to touch
this horse, and that's an order.  Now, would you mind fetching us a saddle
we can put on him?"
       Donnie brought us the horse's riding gear, and Parker showed me how
to put it on the horse.  Even with Parker, Patches was gentle, though he
seemed to like me best.
       "Donnie, how come it looks like Patches hasn't been fed in days?"
Parker asked him.
       "Hey, I got too much to do around here than to feed a condemned
horse," he said.
       Parker frowned.  "Look Donnie, from what I've seen of the stables
today, it looks like there's a lot of work that needs to be done here."
       "Like what?" Donnie asked.
       "There's manure all over the place, for one," I offered.  "And the
horses looked like they haven't been groomed in ages."
       "Now, I know that they must have gotten you run ragged here," Parker
said.  "No one can be expected to do all this work by themselves.  It's a
wonder you've gotten this much accomplished.  So, I'm going to suggest we
get someone else out there to assist you here."  It was a very sweet offer;
if it had been me, I would have tossed Donnie out on his butt and found
someone else to do it.
       "Will my helper be a well-muscled, well-hung top who wants to fuck
me all day long?"
       Parker considered.  "I suppose it's possible, though since this
would be a human, not a vampire, and there's no guarantee the person would
even be male, I'd say the chances are quite slight, I'm afraid."
       "Then hell no, I don't want 'em."
       "Well, I'm sorry, but I have to insist upon it," Parker said.
"There's just too much here for you to cover by yourself."
       Donnie gasped suddenly, realization hitting his face.  "Wait a
second, I know who you are.  Yer the Logan son everyone talks about.  The
one who lost his balls in an accident and can't get it up anymore.  The
eunuch, they call him.  And he's a fucking cripple too."
       He reached out and kicked Parker's false leg, then laughed
obnoxiously.  I angrily pushed him away from Parker.
       "Thanks, Jake, but he didn't hurt me," Parker said.
       "No wonder you didn't want to fuck me.  You can't do it, can you?  I
don't know how you can call yerself a man.  Better off just putting on a
dress and turning into a bottom."
       "That's enough, Donnie!" I said, trying to look imposing.
       "No wonder that legless freak liked the most crippled, messed up
horse in here.  He's the only thing more fucked up around here than he is,
ain't he?"
       "Come on, Jake, don't touch Donnie, he's welcome to his opinions of
me.  Let me get my horse and let's go."
       I grabbed Patches' reins and pulled him towards the door, and Parker
soon followed me out with his mare.  Compared to my horse, his was the
paragon of beauty, all delicate features, soft creamy hide, and a blonde
mane and tail.  Of course, once I had Patches out in the sunlight, I could
see that the parts of him that weren't scarred showed blonde hair as well,
so once probably these two horses wouldn't have looked all that dissimilar.
       "Parker, why'd you let Donnie talk to you like that?" I asked him.
       "What else can I do?" Parker asked.  "Hit him?"
       "He certainly had it coming."
       "He's a human and I'm a strong vampire, Jake.  It would be totally
unethical for me to lay a hand on him."
       "And if he had been a vampire like you?" I asked him.
       "I wouldn't have started a fight over something so trivial," he
said.  "Look, people call me those names here all the time, and a whole lot
worse.  Nothing I can do about that."
       "Well, he made false claims about your condition, Parker.  He acted
like you're impotent instead of merely infertile.  Shouldn't you set him
straight?"
       "I wasn't going to waste any breath on such a ridiculous accusation.
If I had gotten all offended, if I had put forth a denial, then he would
have had reason to think it true.  Anyway, I could actually feel your anger
in there for Donnie.  That's sweet of you, but I don't like the idea of you
getting so worked up over something so insignificant as me."
       "Well, why should you care about what a moronic little stable boy
thinks anyway?" I asked him.
       "I shouldn't care about what anyone thinks about me, but don't do
that, Jake.  Don't belittle him because of his occupation.  There's nothing
better about me than there is about him besides how the two of us choose to
relate to others."
       "I didn't mean anything classist about it," I said.
       He smiled reassuringly at me.  "I know you didn't.  Thanks for being
my knight in shining armor today, sticking up for me like you did."
       I thought it was the perfect moment for me to tell Parker the truth
about my feelings for him.  "Parker, I--"
       Right at that second, Syd sauntered over to us, interrupting me.
"Well, you ready to get this goddamned lesson started or what?" he asked
us.
       "I asked Syd to join us as well," Parker said.
       "Oh, great," I said, knowing my alone time with Parker had just
evaporated.  But how could I be mad when it was me who complained to Parker
about Syd not ever practicing with me?
       Syd grabbed his horse, and the three of us rode to a nearby empty
field that seemed to be devoid of riders.  Parker dismounted his horse next
to a wooden barrel, pulling out a number of rope lassos.  Syd and I
dismounted as well.
       Parker handed me a rope.  "Let's see if we can't catch that barrel,
shall we?"
       "Do you want me to try to lasso it?" I asked.
       "Don't say `lasso,' Jakey, ya sound like a fuckin' city boy," Syd
said.
       "Take it easy on him, Syd," Parker said, coming to my rescue.
       "What am I supposed to call it?  A lariat?"
       "No, that sounds even more city boyish.  It's called a goddamn
rope."
       "A rope?" I asked.
       "That's right."
       "Then how do you distinguish between a lassoed rope and a normal
rope?"
       "We don't fuckin' need to," he said.
       "I know it's not very scientific, but he's right," Parker said.
       "So what is the verb form of a rope?" I asked.
       Syd looked at me blankly for a minute.  "Rope."
       "No, the verb form," I said.  "It means an action word, Syd."
       "I know what a goddamn verb is, Jakey," Syd said.  "I spent all
night fucking Jake's pretty little ass.  In that sentence, `fucking' is the
verb.'"
       "What a lovely choice of verb, Syd," Parker said.
       "Wow, Syd, your grade school teacher would be proud."
       "Hell yes, she would be.  Like I said, I know my action words, and
I'm tellin' ya, you rope a calf.  It's a verb."
       "So, if I didn't want to be picked out for a city boy, I should say
`rope' instead of `lasso?"
       "That's right," Parker said.
       "Says one city boy to another," Syd said.
       "I was raised in the Territory just like you, Syd," Parker said.
       "Well, ya ain't look like you did in that goddamn city boy suit of
yers," he said.  "Hell, ya ain't even use the word `ain't' no more."
       "That's because it's not even a real word!" Parker said.
       "The answer, Jakey, is not using the word lasso ain't ever gonna
fool people in here parts that yer one of us," Syd said.  "They'd have to
be dumber than horseshit to ever believe that.  Just `cause ya ain't ever
gonna be a cowboy doesn't mean I wouldn't still fuck the hell ouutta ya,
though, in case you were worried."
       "I wasn't concerned about that, in fact," I said.  "I guess what I
really wanted to ask is, if I use the word `rope,' will I sound more like
Parker?  Because that's really all I'm aiming for.  I don't ever want to
talk like you, Syd."
       "Well then, yes, ya achieved yer mission of sounding like the one
guy who tried to wash the cowboy outta him," Syd said.  "Whoop-dedoo."
       "Syd, why don't you give it a shot at teaching him how to do this?"
Parker asked, staying cool.
       "What do you think I'm here for?  Feel that rope, Jakey," Syd said,
putting it in my hands.  "What do you notice?"
       "It's quite stiff?"
       "Yup," Syd confirmed.  "It's as stiff as my Texas dick when a fine
piece of ass is around."
       "Really?  Do we have to go to the penis analogies again?" Parker
complained.
       "'Course we do," Syd said.  "You'll also notice how goddamn long the
rope it.  Strike another one in the `like Syd's dick' category."
       "And I see that the rope is less than a half inch in diameter," I
said.
       "Okay, so the similarities to my unit had to end somewhere," Syd
said.
       "The anatomy of a rope lasso is quite simple," Parker said.  "Notice
the end of the rope has a built in loop, or honda.  This part is simply
called the loop.  And the long part of the rope on the other end that you
hold onto is called the spoke."
       "Christ, Parker, he doesn't need a goddamn dissertation on the
subject," Syd complained.  "If you start telling him the chemical makeup of
the rope fibers, I'm leaving."
       "I actually appreciate his level of detail, thank you very much," I
said.
       "Why don't you try roping this barrel over here," Parker suggested.
       "Okay," I said, gripping the rope.
       "Just do what I do, Jakey," Syd said.  He grabbed his own rope, spun
it in the air, released, and the loop went flying over the head of the
barrel, after which he pulled the rope to tighten it.  "See?  Easy, just
like yer purdy butthole, Jakey."
       "Stop with the judgments, Syd," Parker said, defending me.  "Jake's
sexual activity is no one's business but his own, and no one deserves
criticism for their sexual choices, no matter how frequent they are.
Especially not when that hypocritical judgment is coming from you, Syd."
       "You mistook my tone of voice, Parker.  I wasn't criticizing Jakey
for having a slutty butthole, I was celebrating that fact.  His well-used
boy-cunt is one of my favorite Jakey trademarks."
       "I do not have a well used butthole, and you know that more than
anyone, Syd!" I snapped, not wanting Parker to come away from this with the
wrong idea about me.  "Okay, here I go."
       I grabbed the loose rope, the spoke, and I started to swing the rope
above my head.  I launched the rope towards the barrel.  But my loop
disappeared in the air and the crumpled rope hit the barrel instead.
       "Nope!  Wrong!  Yer doin' it wrong!  Do it again."  Syd threw the
rope back at me.
       "Alright."
       I threw the rope again, with the exact same sorry results.
       "Yer supposed to loop the barrel, Jakey, not slap whip the thing."
       "I know that!"
       "Well, yer doin' it all wrong.  Look again at me do it right."  Syd
grabbed his rope and threw a perfect throw onto the barrel again.  "See?
Now that's what I call ropin.'"
       I tried again to throw my rope, but I didn't do any better.
       "No, Jakey, do it like I did," Syd said.
       "I'm not seeing how my way is any different from what you did."
       "Well, you're way's fucking stupid," Syd said.  "If all ya gonna do
is hit the cattle with yer rope, then you can kiss yer family goodbye."
       I got frazzled and frustrated.  "Look, just tell me how to make it
better."
       "I don't know, Jakey, you just do."
       "That's not the least bit helpful."
       "Let me see if I can assist here, Syd," Parker said.
       "Yes, please Parker," I said.
       Parker came up beside me.  "Hold the coiled spoke in your left hand.
Hold the loop in your right hand, just below the honda.  The idea is to
spin the loop up above your head a couple times and then throw it at the
target.  What you aren't doing currently is making the loop open up into a
circle.  Once you do that, when the rope reaches your target, you'll be
able to catch it.  Keep in mind that you're aiming for the spoke to make
about a 180 degree turn, so the honda ends up facing you as it lands on the
target.  That way, you can pull the spoke at the end and tighten the loop
onto your target without spinning the target around."
       "For Christ sake Parker, I am so, so bored," Syd complained.
       "I think I've heard that phrase from you more than any other since
we were children," Parker said.
       "That's because yer entire life has been one big sobering snooze,
and being around you is like being forced to take an ice cold shower."
       "Holy crap, Syd," I said.  "Can't you at least find a way to be
civil to Parker?"
       "Why should I?  You expect because he's lost a leg that I should
treat him different?"
       "No, you should treat him different because he's your brother."
       "It's okay, Jake," Parker said.  "I appreciate what you're trying to
do, but Syd is not offending me."
       "Just tell me how to make the loop spin 180 degrees like that,
Parker," I said.
       "It's all in the right wrist," Parker said, showing me carefully
with his own wrist.  "You use it to gently flick the loop into a spin as
you release it.  The farther away the target, the less spin it needs."
       I tried again to throw the rope, using his new instructions.  This
time, I got the loop to spin, but I missed the barrel.
       "That's the last straw, I'm outta here," Syd said.  "Well bro, I
think we've done all we can here."
       "Syd, that was actually much improved over his last attempt," Parker
said.
       "He knows what he needs to know," Syd said.  "Now he just needs to
sit there and do it over and over until it sits.  No point for us to be
here for that torture."
       "I'm fine staying," Parker said.  "You go ahead."
       "Well then, see you city boys later," he said, tipping his hat at
us.
       "Wait Syd, once I learn this, when can we practice again?"
        "I think it would be best if we worked with him some each day,"
Parker said.
       "That sounds good," I said.  "Same time, same place tomorrow?"
       "Sure," Parker said.  "Oh wait, now that Annie's back, she sleeps in
a whole lot more than I do, but in the afternoons, we generally work
together on projects in our lab.  It's harder to get away for me around
this time.  Can we move our sessions to the morning?"
       "I'm free, but little miss bride to be has a fake wedding to plan,"
Syd said.
       "Cornelius has me booked solid every morning."
       "Oh, that's a complete waste of time," Parker said.
       "You don't even begin to know the half of it," I complained.
"Unless we met before those meetings began."
       "I'm fine with that.  Syd?"
       Syd opened his eyes wide.  "Are you kidding me?  You want me to get
up at dawn, you'll hafta be in charge of getting me up and getting me
clean, Jakey."
       "Yeah, right.  There's no way I'm going to agree to that nonsense.
He sleeps so heavy, I always think he must be hibernating for the winter.
He doesn't even own an alarm clock."
       "Maybe we can put a bunch of roosters in the room with you," Parker
suggested.
       "Jakey's got all the cock in that room he can handle right here,"
Syd said, grabbing the package in his jeans.
       "Okay, so no to the early mornings," Parker said.  "Let me talk to
Cornelius, he's a friend of mine."
       "Hah, no wonder," Syd said.  "You two were drawn to each other as
soon as you realized you were the only two men in this mansion dressed like
city fuckheads who always raised their pinkies when they drank their tea
and bored everyone to kill themselves every time they uttered a word."
       "I think it's because they're the only two men here with any sense
of civility," I said.
       "They can have civility," Syd said.  "There's never been a bigger
cock-blocker than civility.  `Cept maybe you, Jakey.  Anyway, if ya talk to
Cornelius, you can't make him suspect the wedding is even more bullshit
than Jakey pretending like he doesn't secretly want me to fuck his pretty
butthole from here to eternity."
       "Oh, I won't," Parker said.  "I'll just tell him that the rodeo
practice should take top priority.  He knows what's at stake there, he
won't disagree.  I'll just ask him to shorten the meetings just by a little
bit.  He'll be fine with that."
       Syd got on his horse and rode off, and then it was thankfully just
Parker and I.
       "Now, what I want to tell you was, you seem to be spinning a little
too much," Parker said.  "That's what I believe is throwing you off.  Watch
me do it again.  It's really a very gentle flick of the wrist."
       He threw his rope expertly and caught the barrel in a perfect loop.
       This time, I tried to do it with less rotation, and that seemed to
do the trick.  "I got it!" I said as the loop sailed over the barrel.
       "Excellent!" yelled Parker, putting a congratulatory arm around me.
       "But it's still not perfectly 180 degrees," I said.
       "Let's keep on practicing."
       Parker was a dream teacher.  He was totally patient until I mastered
roping that barrel, then, to change things up, he had me move backwards,
putting more space between me and my target.  Once I had mastered that, he
told me I needed to learn on a moving target, and had me rope him, first
when he was barely walking, then again when he broke out into a trot.  It
was a good hour before we finally decided to call it a successful day and
we both rode back towards the mansion.  We carefully removed the saddles
from the horses and put them in the stables.
       "Are you heading up to the chemistry lab?" I asked Parker.
       "I'm pretty dirty from riding, so I was going to shower before I
made it to the lab," Parker said, and I hoped he might invite me to join
him as Boyd had been doing.  "But first, I figured I should get my workout
in.  I'll be heading to the gym."
       "I'd love to join you, Parker."
       "Really?"  His face suddenly was all smiles.  "I figured there was
no chance you'd want to workout after all that training."
       "Well, riding, roping, and axe throwing use some very unique muscle
groups quite substantially, but I don't think I've gotten a really good
workout from them."
       "I'm working out back and shoulders if you'd like to join me."
       "I'd love to."
       Going to the gym meant traveling through the Great Room, which
always set my hairs on end and a sickness in my stomach.  Luckily, it was
much reassuring to have Parker at my side.  This time, there was a new
slave in the cage, a skinny Hispanic man.  Once again, he was being guarded
by a single vampire.
       "My lord," Parker said when we had left the room.  "The sight of
that cage gets me ill every time."
       "Me too," I said.
       The gym was empty except for us, and I took off my sweater and got a
towel.
       "I was hoping maybe I'd found a regular gym buddy with you, Jake.
What do you say?"
       "Yeah, I'd love to be your workout partner, Parker," I said, feeling
warm all over.  As we started doing pull-ups, I asked him the first
question that was pressing on my mind: "Hey Parker, can you guess who would
have a key to that cage in the Great Room?  I mean, besides Jericho?"
       "I don't have to guess, I know," he said.  This is why I loved
Parker.  "Tucker."
       "The drunk?"
       "Yes, he used to be my father's most trusted advisor.  I know he had
a copy of that key."
       "Thanks Parker," I said.
       "You know, I really must say, having to sit there and watch Syd
fondle you in front of everyone in the mess hall really drives me crazy,"
he said.
       "Oh really?" I asked, wondering if it was jealousy that was annoying
him.  "I'm not the only one he's driving crazy?"
       "No, he's totally overdoing it," Parker said.
       "Parker, I need to ask you something," I said, getting ready to
point blank ask him if he had feelings for me.  My heart started to pound.
       "Anything, Jake."
       "Do you--"
       "Hello, sons!" I whipped my head around to see Glaucia come in,
dressed in workout gear.
       "Hello, Mama Glaucia," Parker said cheerfully.
       "I heard Parker say he'd be down here working out, so I thought I'd
get off my lazy butt and come join you.  If you don't mind, that is?"
       I was just about to tell her we were talking about something
private, but Parker spoke first.
       "Not at all, Glaucia," he said.  "Right, Jake?"
       "Uh, nope," I said, trying to hide my annoyance.
       She cheerfully jumped into our workout, and though I hoped she would
tire out and leave us alone, she stuck with it all the way through.  At the
end of the workout, Parker asked me what I was doing after.
       "I'm going to grab a snack in the mess hall, want to come, Parker?"
I asked, hoping we could talk then.
       "Oh, I've got a chemistry project to work on up in my lab," he said.
"Another time."
       Well, I would just follow him out and talk to him in the hall on his
way to his lab, if that's what it would take.
       "Hey, I'll go to the mess hall with you, Jake," Glaucia said.
       "Oh, great," I said.
       Glaucia and I left the gym and went to eat together in the mess
hall.  I tried not to hold my annoyance against her; after all, she had
done nothing wrong.  As we talked over lunch I realized she was very good
at carrying on idle chit chat, or asking about others.  She seemed to
almost never offer any information about herself; that is unless one asked
her point blank.
       "How's Lewis doing?" I decided to ask.
       "He came back from his evening with his father all upset, but he
wouldn't speak a word," Glaucia said.  "He's with him again this morning."
       "Glaucia, if there's anyway you can prevent Lewis from being around
his father in the evenings, especially around dinner time, that would be a
really good idea," I said.
       "Yeah, I think I can negotiate that," she said.
       Even as I was talking to Glaucia, all I could think about was
Parker.  I knew I couldn't wait another day to tell him how I felt about
him.  I was completely determined.  As we said our goodbyes, I asked
Glaucia how to get to Parker's chemistry lab under the guise that I had
forgotten to give him something, and she gave me instructions.
       I made my way to the lab, my heart racing as I practiced what I was
going to say to him.  I found the door to the room and I opened it up.
       I heard sounds of boiling liquid and vent fans, smelled chemical
fumes.  The room was larger than I expected, and more high-tech than any
other room in this mansion, filled with modern laboratory equipment mixed
with the same wooden furniture and designs that the rest of the house had.
       My eyes didn't really have time to soak in all the details of the
room, however, because they were drawn immediately to its occupants.
Standing there against the wall with his back to me was a man that could
only be Parker.
       He was naked from the waist up, which was my first shock.  Though
seeing him unclothed from behind without seeing his face might have made me
confuse him with Syd or Jericho, who had bodies that were very similar to
this one, his lighter hair and gave his identity away.  He was wearing his
suit trousers and shoes.
       Pinned between him and the wall was a naked figure.  Parker's large
body blocked most of the smaller person's figure from my view, but I could
tell that it was a woman.
       Her right arm was resting over his left trap muscles, her hand
digging into the deep muscles of his mid-back.  Her left arm was underneath
his burly right arm, her left hand also clutching his powerful, sweaty
back.  The back of her head was pinned back against the wall, but Parker's
head blocked her face, mostly because their lips were locked together, and
I could hear their mouths smacking together as they kissed.
       Her knees were bent, sticking out to the sides, and her legs were
wrapped around his hips, her ankles coming together just around his belt.
I was surprised he would be able to hold this woman off her feet like he
was and still have the power to thrust her at his pace, but he was
performing admirably.  He was holding her up tenderly with his arms as his
butt plunged in moved back and forth rhythmically from the angle I was
watching.  Clearly he had his fly down and his hard dick out.
       I felt disgusted; this was just the same as when I walked in on Syd
and whoever that woman had been in his apartment the other day.  I guess
the brothers were more alike than I suspected, and it broke my heart a
little to know that Parker would have been something less than the person I
believed him to be.
       As my initial shock wore off, and I watched them, trying to be as
silent as possible, I noticed that there was a noted difference about this
sexual encounter from all of Syd's conquests.  While Syd's trysts were
animalistic, lust-infused physical marathons, Parker and this woman's
interactions were sweet and extremely tender.  His thrusts were smooth and
romantic, their lips never left each others, if I didn't know better, I
would have sworn Parker loved this woman and this act was the manifestation
of his love for her.
       I suddenly felt extremely jealous.  I had wanted so badly for the
two of us to have this level of trust and affection, but here Parker was,
giving all of his affections to this woman instead.  I realized, of course
it had been Parker and this woman kissing in the hall the night before.  It
had been my arrogance that had made me not see the truth.  Parker clearly
had a flame not for me, but for this woman.
       I thought over all of the little things he had done since I met him
that had led me to believe he might have been flirting with me.  All of
them now seemed like just the kind of ways in which someone as sweet and
kind as Parker would treat those around him.  In his eyes, our quick
connection had been nothing but platonic.  Unlike Boyd, who so obviously
made an effort to flirt with me, Parker's behavior had never been the least
bit flirtatious.  He had so adamantly kept me from seeing him undressed,
for instance, not even taking off his shirt in front of me.
       It made me feel so, so sad to know that I just wasn't meant to be
with this wonderful man.  I knew I couldn't do anything to get in between
him and this woman, not with the love they obviously had for each other.  I
wasn't that kind of person.  I would just mentally wish them well, and turn
around and go without them ever knowing I was there.
       I started to leave when I heard the woman say breathlessly, "Oh,
Parker."
       "Oh, I love you," Parker said as he continued his thrusts.  "I love
you, Annie."
       I froze, stopping my exit, and looked again, trying to peer around
Parker's head.  Only then could I see the face of the woman underneath him,
her eyes shut, and it was the same face that looked so similar to Syd and
Parker.
       His sister Annie.  I was sure of it.
       "Bite me, Parker, bite me!"
       "Are you sure you want that, dear?"
       "Yes!"
       I felt my stomach knot, and I quickly left the room, and shut the
door silently.  I walked around the corner of the hallway, and then dry
heaved, the sickness forcing me to gag, before I got myself back under
control.
       It was wretched, sickening, beyond disturbing.  Vampires may have
had some strange customs, but I knew incest wasn't permitted.  That's why
Parker and his sister had been so scared someone would see them carrying on
in the hallway the other day.  They probably couldn't sleep in each others'
rooms without arousing suspicion.  No wonder they were carrying on in the
chemistry lab; they were both chemists and it would be the one place they
could count on being alone without anyone batting an eye.
       My passionate crush on Parker was just thrown out the window, along
with everything I respected about the man.  The awful truth was, he was a
disgusting, sick man.  And any initial affection I had towards Annie
disintegrated as well.  I had thought those two and Boyd had been the only
really decent people in this mansion.  Besides Boyd, now I was left just
Glaucia as a friend, and I still couldn't reconcile the nice person she
seemed to be with the person who chooses to marry the devil.  That left me
terribly alone once again.
       If Parker was a perverted liar, did that mean he was lying about his
promise to me?  Syd had sworn he would keep that promise no matter what.  I
had to tell myself to still believe it.
       I asked myself if perhaps I was being too sexually prudish and
judgmental.  Clearly Parker loved his sister, did that make what they were
doing okay?
       I thought of having sex with my brother, and my stomach soured
again.  The idea absolutely disgusted me.  It was wrong, that was the
bottom line.  And both of them must have had some seriously depraved sides
to them for them to indulge any of those desires.
       I walked through the hallway, not sure what to do.  I wanted this
disturbed relationship to end.  Should I tell someone what I had seen?
That would only make Parker angry with me, and make him revoke his promise
to me.  Should I try to talk to Parker about what I knew and encourage him
to change his ways?  That certainly would be my normal course of action,
but once again, I couldn't be sure Parker would react sanely to my
confrontation.
       No, the only option was to not say anything at all.  Once Parker
used his ploy to save my life, perhaps then I'd be free to speak my mind.
Until then, I would avoid the two of them as much as possible.
       I scolded myself for just moments before being so bent on telling
Parker my feelings and trying to start a relationship with him.  How could
I be worried about romance when Jericho was here murdering people every
day?  I'd just cut Parker out of my thoughts and focus on what really
mattered: finding a way to bust the prisoners out.
       My first mission was to get a hold of that cage's key.  Now that I
knew Tucker had a copy, that was clearly where I should be headed.  I found
an unfortunate custodian slave in the hallway and asked where Tucker's room
was.  When I found his door, I knocked, but no one answered, so I tried the
knob: unlocked.  I let myself in.
       Tucker's room was a good deal larger and fancier than the room that
Syd was in, chock full of that typical Mareshead wood décor which so
evoked the natural beauty of the west.  One quick look towards the bed and
I could see that the pitiable, emaciated man was laying on his back in bed,
eyes shut.  All sorts of medical equipment beeped and hummed around him,
connecting him to a myriad of wires and tubes.  I wondered if he was in a
coma.
       I shut the door quietly behind me, taking the opportunity to glance
at his things.  There was a dresser filled with his clothing and some other
personal effects.  I was free to shuffle through all of it carefully, but
found no key.  There was a large closet that was totally empty, and a
bathroom that held none of his things.  All other furniture in the room was
bare.  If Tucker had that key, it must have been either on his person or
somewhere else entirely.  I hopped for the former and approached his bed.
       I looked at the sad, sleeping man, and pulled back the covers of the
bed, hoping to find some pocket somewhere.  Instead, he was wearing a pale
blue hospital gown with nowhere to put anything.
       I heard the door open, and then a booming voice yell, "Intruder!
Intruder!"  I spun around to see a large white woman dressed in a white,
Victorian nurse's gown come rushing towards me, huffing with belligerence.
       "I'm no intruder," I said.  "Just a visitor."
       "Jericho expressly ordered there were to be no visitors," she said.
       "Well, I'm practically one of the Logans now," I said.  "Surely
Jericho didn't mean me."
       She eyed me suspiciously.  "What were you doing with his blanket?"
       "Just tucking him in," I said.  "He looked cold."
       "Mmm, what's going on?" said Tucker's voice as he opened his eyes.
       "See?  Now ya gone and waked him," the nurse said.  As she moved
towards the bed, I could see under her cleanly pinned back hair that there
was a lack of any tattoo there.  Like many of the humans here, she was a
slave.  "Tucker, do you know this fellow?"
       Tucker squinted at me.  "Sure, I know him.  What did ya come for,
son?"  His voice was weak and trembling.  He sounded barely alive at all.
       "Tucker, I was hoping you had something I needed," I said.
       "I ain't got much of value to anyone, but everything I got that
matters is right here where no one can take it," he said, lifting his head
up and showing me a stash of small objects under his pillow, including a
ring of keys.
       "You have what I want, Tucker.  Could you give it to me?"
       "I ain't never given nothing to nobody for free my whole life over,"
he said.  "If you want it, you'll hafta pay me for it."
       "Listen, I don't have any money, but I can probably get some."
       He shook his head.  "I'm on death's door, boy!  Money ain't gonna do
me a lick o' good!"
       "Well, what do you need, then?"
       Tucker eyed the nurse.  "Don't ya have some laundry to do
somewhere?" he asked her.
       "No," she said.
       "Well, find somethin' to do and give me and this kid some privacy!"
       "Fine," she said.  "I'll clean the bathroom."
       She went into the bathroom and started working.  Tucker pulled me
down close to him.  "I want two things from you," he said.  "First, get me
some whiskey from downstairs.  The nurse ain't let me drink since I got
here.  I've been facing withdrawal along with dying of cancer.  There's so
much pain, and nothin' else makes it go away anymore but that."
       "I'm not one to support anyone's chemical dependency, Tucker," I
said.
       "Look, I'm the first guy to admit that I absolutely hate the liquor.
Hell, look what it gone and done to me.  Now, if I could, I would go back
to the moment I first picked up the bottle and make a different choice.
And I wish to damn hell that now I could kick the stuff outta my life.  But
I'm dying here, so none of that make a lick of difference to me."
       I grumbled, but there was really no argument I could make against
that.  "Okay, I can do that," I said. "What else?"
       He looked at me sternly.  "She's keepin' me alive with all these
magic toys, even when I got no right to be with the livin.'  I want to die.
I need you to kill me."
       "Kill you?" I asked, shocked.
       "Cut off these wires and smother me with a pillow!"
       "I heard that!" said the nurse as she came out of the bathroom.  "I
told you a hundred times, Jericho ordered you be kept alive."
       "He don't understand that I want to die," he said.
       "I'm going to be watching you like a hawk," she said to me.  "If you
ever so much as touch his IV, it will be your end, you hear me?  Tucker
dying will be the death of me.  Literally."
       "Listen, Tucker, I can't kill you," I said.
       "Well then, you promise me that you will go to Jericho and tell him
the pain I'm in," he said.
       "Alright, I promise," I said.
       "It's a deal then.  Upon delivery."
       I nodded, and quickly left the room.  I walked through the hallways
back to Syd's place.  I walked into his room, appreciative to find it
empty.  I went into the closet and grabbed my backpack, placing Syd's
revolver carefully inside, as well as the bottle of whiskey on Syd's little
bar of liquor by the bed.  In a couple minutes, I was back in Tucker's
room, noticing the nurse was back in the bathroom.
       Tucker motioned me towards him, and I slyly pulled out the whisky
and handed it to him.  He looked at that bottle like it was the holy grail
I just handed to him, then he carefully stowed it between his mattress and
headboard.  Then he shut his eyes and lifted his pillow.  "Take what you
want," he said.  "It's better I don't know what you took."
       I picked up his key ring, found the one modern key that I knew went
with the cage, and carefully pulled it off the ring without making a sound.
Then I put the ring back, and he set the pillow down.
       "It was a pleasure doin' business with ya," he said.  "Don't forget
about the other part of our deal."
       "I won't, Tucker.  Thanks."
       "One more thing, Jake," he said.  "One more thing.  Probably not
supposed to tell ya this, but since I'm dying, I just don't give a damn no
more.  Whatever they told you about your daddy's death when you was a boy
were lies.  Ain't no way he was really killed by a tornado.  A vampire
musta done him in bad."
       "Do you know who, Tucker?" I asked.
       "If I did, they'd be under arrest, now wouldn't they?  Nah, I never
knew."
       "I bet it was Jericho," I said, positive that any evil deed would
likely go back to him.
       "Nah, why would he go and do that?  If he had wanted your daddy
dead, he just would have outright killed him.  He is the one in charge,
`member?  Nobody was more pissed at Syd than Jericho was when your daddy
died, because he died without us ever knowin' if he had the special gene or
not."
       "Is there anything else you can tell me, Tucker?" I asked.
       "I was less involved with the project than Rose and the Governor,
but I was around when the Petrovs reached out to us about a decade ago.  It
had been decades since the Petrov Blood had contacted us, and they have
been our sworn enemies ever since they exiled us from the Old World in the
great Blood War of Europe, forcing us to come to the American colonies.
Anyhoo, they told us that they somehow knew the gene had been passed
through Americans, forcing them to contact us for help finding the next
one.  But I'm not too sure about the particulars of what went on with them
after that, `cept that the Governor assigned Cornelius to work with them on
it."
       "Thanks Tucker, I'll ask him about it."
       "Glad I got that off my chest," he said.
       I played with the key in my hand as I walked back to the Great Room
door.  If this Territory hadn't been as backwoods as it was, I would have
driven to the nearest locksmith and gotten the key copied, but that was not
an option to me.  I quietly slipped inside the Great Room, looking down
carefully from the third floor balcony.  The Hispanic, male slave was still
locked in the cage, and the only other person in the room was that
skeletal, childlike vampire woman, who was reading instead of guarding the
cage attentively.  I sat down against the wall and waited, praying there
would be an opportunity this time to unlock the cage and give the prisoner
the gun.
       Forty-five minutes later, a guard came in and relieved the vampire
woman.  An hour after that, and the next guard came in.  I sat there for
hours until late evening, when Jericho finally arrived, followed by his
entourage guards.  I was so despondent to see him come in again before I
had been able to free the slave.  The guards hadn't so much as taken a
bathroom break.
       I felt sick again, seeing the person I loathed most in this world
walk in and take his ridiculous throne.  I knew that with his arrival, the
chances of me saving this slave were minimal.  I was tempted to give up and
leave, but I had to stick around and hope that somehow, this time things
would be different and the guards would leave the slave alone for some
reason.
       Jericho didn't waste any time.  He asked the guard to bring the
slave to him.  "What is your name, sweetheart?" he asked, peering down at
the man from his throne.
       "Jim," the man said.  I could already hear the fear in his voice.
       "Well, Jim," he said.  "Do you have a talent?"
       "A talent?" he asked.  "I don't think so."
       "Come now, everyone is good at something," Jericho said.
       He thought about it.  "I'm sorry, I'm kind of a klutz.  I've never
been talented at anything."
       "Well that makes me very, very disappointed," Jericho said.  "I
don't think you'd like to see me disappointed."
       "No, no, no, alright.  Please, please, please don't hurt me!" the
man begged.  "I'll do anything you want me to, please!"
       "Just tell me something you are good at."
       ""Okay, you know what?  I'm really good at sucking dick."
       I raised an eyebrow, surprised this guy would take it to that level,
and I wondered if it would result in any different result than before.
       "Well, guess what, son?  I like getting my dick sucked," he said,
scratching the villainous looking La Souvarov in his fingers.  "Do you like
games, Jim?"
       "Sexual games, yes," Jim said.
       "Well, this game would definitely fall into this category.  I want
us to play a game, and the prize at stake is your freedom.  Wouldn't you
love to earn yer freedom tonight, Jim?"
       "I sure would."
       "Great," he said, pulling his dark cowboy shirt off his body, Jim
gasping as he saw his upper body for the first time; though whether he was
gasping from pure intimidation by his ridiculously powerful body, or out of
the lust and admiration of seeing such a beautiful form, I had no idea.
But I could see Jim's eyes running over light-brown fur that covered his
muscled chest and cut abs.  "All you have to do is pass two tests to prove
your dick sucking skills, and you'll walk out of here Scott free."
       "Sure, I can do that," Jim said.
       "Alright, come here, Jim, and I'll show you the first part of the
test."
       Jim approached Jericho on his throne until he was right in front of
him.
       Jericho unhooked the "L" belt buckle on his jeans, pulling open his
belt.  I could see that his dick was hard and pointing down the left leg of
his tight pants. "Why don't you take it out, Jim?"
       Jim boldly went forward, knelt in front of Jericho, and unzipped his
pants.  He reached his hand down Jericho's left leg inside his pants and
grabbed the monstrous penis, pulling the thing out of his pants with quite
a bit of effort.
       Finally, when he had both Jericho's penis and his ballsack hanging
out of the jeans, he leaned back t take a look.  "Holy crap," he said.  "I
never knew what extra, extra large meant until right now."  He looked over
Jericho's huge as heck, vein covered penis that was hard and sticking up
towards the sky, capped by a huge mushroom tip with a prince albert on it.
Even his balls were huge, fitting the dick perfectly.
       "Test one: I want you to take my huge cock all the way down.  Think
you can make me proud, Jim?"
       "I've never done one nearly this big before," he said.  "I'll have
to work my way up to getting all the way down, get my throat opened slowly,
and hopefully I can do it."
       He grabbed the middle of Jericho's hard dick in his whole right
fist, and there was still so much of the thing on either end of his hand
uncovered.  He looked at Jericho's perfect dickhead, opened his mouth, and
licked the surface of the pink head like it was a lollipop, paying
particular attention to the piercing.
       He placed his whole face against the underside of Jericho's dick,
which was the side that was facing Jim, as the phallus was sticking
straight into the air.  I noticed that Jim's chin was pressing into
Jericho's ballsack and Jericho's huge dick stood taller than Jim's face.
He licked up and down the massive shaft.  When he got to the bottom, he
started making out with each one of Jericho's golf-ball size nuts, sucking
the left one, then the right one.
       "Ya know, there's a rule I forgot to mention," Jericho said.  "Ya
can't touch my dick or my balls with yer hand.  Gotta do all of that lovin'
with just that mouth of yers."
       "That's fine," Jim said, taking his hands off his dick.  "Alright,
here goes nothing."
       Jim opened his mouth wide, lowering his lips down over Jericho's
huge head.
       "That's a start, Jimmy boy," he said.  "Here, let me help ya."
       Jericho placed his hands behind Jims head and pushed him down on his
dick a good couple of inches, enough so I worried he would choke the guy.
He grabbed his hair with his left hand and used those powerful arm muscles
to push the guy up and down on his dick.  After a while, I could see sticky
precum oozing down the base of Jericho's dick.
       Jericho lifted his right hand and motioned one of the guards over.
He whispered something to him, and the guard went off through one of the
side doors, seemingly unseen my Jim.
       While keeping his left hand firmly pushing Jim's hand down onto his
dick, Jericho used his right hand to reposition Jim so the guy's forearms
were resting on Jericho's right thigh.  At fist I couldn't understand this
position change, then Jericho's large right hand started fondling Jim's
butt, and I realized he had just moved his butt into grabbing range.
Jericho didn't even bother lubing up his fingers before stabbing them up
into the man's butt.
       The vampire guard reappeared with a small paper bag, which he handed
to Jericho.  "There's one part of this contest I failed to tell you about.
You see, if you lose, the price you pay is your life.  So, you'd better
prove that you can my whole dick in yer mouth in a real hurry."
       He removed his right hand from Jim's butt and positioned Jim back in
between his legs, clamping his huge thighs towards each other, trapping
both Jim's arms between them, rendering them useless.  Jim reacted by
trying to pull up off of Jericho, looking up at him angrily, but Jericho's
left hand continued to hold Jim down against his dick, not letting him up.
He struggled with his arms, but Jericho held onto those with his legs.  Jim
kicked out his legs, but that wasn't doing any good either.
       "There's nothing you can possibly do that will let you escape my
huge cock, Jimmy-boy.  Better not fight it."
       Jim glared at him fiercely.
       Jericho started to laugh.  "Yeah, go ahead and bite me all ya want.
It doesn't hurt me.  It's like a love bite to me."
       With his free hand, Jericho pulled a large, steel clothespin that
looked extremely sturdy out of the bag, then set the bag aside.
       "I can't wait to see what happens first, sweetheart.  You getting my
whole cock in yer throat, or you suffocating to death.  I'm advising you to
take a really deep breath."
       He clamped the clothespin over Jim's nostrils, stopping his intake
of oxygen.  Jim struggled again, but Jericho held in him place.
       "You have a minute or so before you die.  You can chose to spend it
fighting me, or you can use it to get my dick all the way inside, so this
game will be won my you.  Your choice."
       Jim finally decided to play his game, starting to open his mouth as
wide as it would go as he slammed his head down and down his dick some
more.
       He got stuck three inches from the bottom, and had to work his head
back and for the slowly to get more of it down from there, bit by bit, his
face turning a horrible purple color.
       Finally, just before he seemed like he would start to pass out, his
nose hit Jericho's light brown pubes, and he made a noise, clear that he
knew he had won.
       "Uh-uh," Jericho said.  "Ya think ya can gip me?  Yer not all the
way down. Ya haven't won until I feel those pretty lips hit my ballsack."
       Jim frantically struggled to get down that last inch, but he wasn't
budging.  He looked up at Jericho's eyes, pleading.
       "What, ya need help, boy?" he asked.  "Well, just this once."
       Jericho pushed the man's head with both hands down until he pushed
through that last part of his shaft, Jim's chin hitting Jericho's huge
balls.
       "Ding, ding, ding, you've just hit the jackpot."
       I thought I knew Jericho well enough by then to guess that even
though Jim had succeeded, Jericho would suffocate him anyway.  But next
thing I knew, Jericho pushed Jim's head off of him and stood up off his
throne.
       Jim gasped desperately for air, sucking it in loudly as he collapsed
to the floor.  He pulled the clothespin off his nose and just lay there for
some time before the normal color began to return to his face.
       "Don't just lie there all boring-like, Jimmy-boy," said Jericho.
"You totally aced the first round of this game, but the final round is
still to come.  And that's where everything's on the line."
       "No, I don't want to play anymore," Jim said.
       "Aww, you can't quit now."
       "Yes, I'm quitting."
       "No, I'm telling you, you can't quit no, Jimmy-boy.  You'll see this
game through to its end, or you die.  Now, I want you back on your knees."
       Jim groaned, but pulled himself off the floor and got back into a
kneeling position.
       Jericho stood in front of Jim and flicked his hard, wet dick on his
face.  "The game here is simple," he said.  "If you can wrangle the seed
out o' my balls with that talented mouth of yours, you win.  And you get to
go out of here as a free man."
       "What's the twist?"
       Jericho smiled.  "You're getting real smart there, Jimmy.  Yes,
there's always a twist.  The twist, my boy, is this."  He grabbed that
paper bag and pulled an oddly large razor blade in his hands before
throwing the bag aside, and I knew the appearance of that thing would be
anything but good news for Jim.
       Jericho reached down and fastened the razor blade to his metal
prince albert.  That was the first time that I realized that his penile
piercing had been specially designed to allow other pieces of hardware to
attach to it, and this razor blade piece was obviously invented by the
insane man himself.
       "There, now my cock is all ready for your mouth-lovin, Jimmy," he
said with a serious grin.
       Jimmy looked disgusted.  "No, I can't give you a blowjob with that
thing on, it'll cut me."
       "Just be careful with it.  You're supposed to be the expert
cocksucker.  If so, you'll be able to give me pleasure without hurting
yerself."
       "No, I don't want to do this."
       Jericho reached for the revolver he had in his hip holster and
cocked it right in Jim's face.  "Do it, or have yer brains splashed across
this floor."
       "Fine, okay."
       Jim's face looked anxious as he carefully moved his head forward and
took Jericho's dick in his mouth.  He seemed to realize that just having
contact with the razor in his mouth wasn't enough to cut him, and if he
took this job slowly, he'd be able to work around the razor.
       Jericho holstered his gun again.  His pants were hanging down his
knees at that point, his balls completely hanging free.  Jim held onto that
monster dick with his right hand, keeping it firmly in control as he slid
it further inside him, able to go halfway down the man's shaft without
hurting himself.
       "Uh-uh, I said no hands, didn't I?"
       He slapped Jim's right hand off his dick, but even without holding
on, Jim seemed able to keep in control and be able to work his dick without
getting sliced by the razor.
       After a few minutes of Jim cautiously working the upper half of his
dick, Jericho said, "This is getting too boring.  I want to see you go down
further."
       He put a forceful right hand on the back of Jim's head again,
locking him in place.  Jim panicked and started to pull back.
       "Guards, hold the slave down!"
       Two guards swept in on either side of Jim and quickly locked his
body where it was.  Jericho placed both of his big hands on the back of
Jim's head, forcing him down his huge, veiny stalk, as he stared down at
the guy, his tongue resting on his upper lips lustfully.
       And then the movement stopped abruptly with about three and a half
inches of the stalk left to take.  I knew Jericho's head must be hitting a
curve in Jim's throat or something, and that Jim knew he couldn't go any
further.  He moaned anxiously, looking up at Jericho, his eyes pleading for
mercy.
       "What, you don't want me to continue, is that it?" Jericho said.
"Aww, sweetie, didn't I tell you?  I can't cum without seeing and smelling
fresh blood."
       He smiled cruelly at Jim, then used all his arm strength to slam his
dick all the way to the hilt, until his balls were resting on Jim's chin
and his pubes in the man's nose, as Jim started to scream in pain.
       Bright red blood started leaking out of Jim's lips and covering
Jim's chin and Jericho's ballsack, making me light headed.
       "Ohh, yeah, show me that sexy red, baby," Jericho said lustfully as
his fangs popped out.  "I want you to pour that red all over."
       Jericho was absolutely incited, and he forcefully pulled his dick
out until his head was just inside Jim's mouth, then slammed it down with a
huge slap all the way back.  This time, he had clearly sliced Jim's insides
from his tongue to the back of his throat, as his eyes opened as wide as
they possibly could be, in terrified, panicky pain, but all the struggling
he did helped him not one bit.
       This time, when Jericho pulled his dick almost the whole way out of
Jim again, his dick was covered in blood.  "Yeah, Jimmy-boy, bleed yer love
juice all over my huge cock."
       He used his hands to hold Jim's head in place while he thrust
slammed in and out of the boy's throat with that dick, his butt muscles
moving at hyper speed, flexing and un-flexing with each huge thrust.  Blood
was actually pouring down Jim's neck and chest by then, staining Jericho's
jeans and pants.
       Jim stopped screaming, and his eyes started fluttering oddly.
Jericho pulled out of Jim, who still seemed alive, though highly
disoriented.  Jericho lifted him and threw his body on top of the armrests
of Jericho's throne.  This meant Jim's upper back was being supported by
the armrest, but everything above was hanging down off the chair towards
the ground, his limp hands hitting the floor.  This put Jim's head
completely upside down, and the blood really started to pour out in this
way.
       Jericho's eager mouth was waiting, lapping up the red liquid as it
poured down out of Jim's mouth and all over his face before matting in his
hair.  Jericho ran his bloody tongue over the tips oh his erect fangs,
clearly sensitive there.  I could see his hard dickhead shivering in
response, huge amounts of precum oozing all over the razorblade.
       "Oh, I want that sweet mouth of yours again, Jimmy," he said, and it
scared me how much he sounded like Syd when he said those things.
       He stood up, ripped his pants totally off, and stuck his razor
covered dickhead in Jim's open mouth, covering it anew in red.
       "Yes, that's it, that's it," he growled pleasurably.
       He squeezed Jim's upturned pecs like they were a woman's breasts as
he pushed further and further into the guy, his face aflame with insane
amount of lust.
       He started thrusting again, harder and harder, in and out, but this
time, he had the guy's blood in his mouth that he was clearly relishing.
       I saw Jericho move his hands to Jim's throat, squeezing tightly as
he plunged all the way down, licking the fur on his upper lip.
       "Yeah, what do you say, sweetheart?  You ready for the biggest load
of cream you ever seen?  Cause that's what's about to come yer way."
       His plunged his way all the way back inside Jim's mouth until Jim's
chin was in his pubes and Jericho's huge, bloody ballsack slapped Jim's
nose, eyes, and forehead.  Jericho's face took on a particularly intense
look of pleasure, his eyes squinted shut and his mouth hanging open.
       "Aww, fuck yeah!!" he screamed.
       And just like his son, Jericho was capable of massive loads, as was
evidenced by huge amount of his creamy glaze gushing out from every open
space between Jim's lips and the base of Jericho's dick.  The copious
cream, stained red with blood, oozed all over Jericho's balls and Jim's
upside-down face.
       Jericho pinched Jim's nose with his hand, and the guy started to
hack and choke and use ever last ounce of strength to struggle.  But it
wasn't long before the struggling stopped, and the man died, choked to
death on a combination of blood, semen, and Jericho's dick.  It was a
horrible, horrible way to go, and I fought to keep my disgusted tears back.
       As soon as Jim was dead, Jericho started ripping into his body with
his sharp fangs, slicing him open and gorging on the blood inside.  There
was nothing more that I could do for Jim, and the sight was making me close
to fainting, so I stumbled out of the Great Room.
       As I walked back to Syd's room, I started to cry again, that same
trauma resurfacing itself.  I forced myself to stop the tears, but the fear
and anger would not go away.  When I walked into Syd's bedroom, I found a
plate of dinner sitting on the dresser.  A note was on it: "Missed you at
dinner, thought you might be hungry.  Parker and the Pariah Club."  I
rolled my eyes angrily at Parker's name.
       I put the gun away, picked at the food, and took a bath, trying to
clean off all the bad memories Jericho had dumped upon me.  After I kneeled
and prayed with my cross in my hand before bed, I vowed to God that
tomorrow would be different.


       JANUARY 8th


       I woke myself up early, and noticed Syd still sleeping in his bed.
I got up and went into the closet.  As I got dressed, I put my gloves on,
just in case anyone here would be looking for fingerprints.  I pulled out a
ziplock freezer bag I had in my things.  I put Syd's gun inside, along with
the key.  Then I wrote a note to the slave, telling them of my plan.
       I wrote that whatever they'd be told by Jericho, they would not
survive the night unless they escaped.  They could make their getaway with
the key I had given them, but they'd be stupid to try to take on any
vampire male guard that was guarding them.  I told them that there was one
window of opportunity for them: the woman who they left guarding the cage
for an hour each day.  She'd be the one guard that the gun would be a
dangerous weapon against.  I told them not to kill her, but to surprise her
and use the weapon to threaten her.  Hold her captive, and use that
captivity to escape before releasing her.  I asked them to throw the key
somewhere out of sight when they were done so I could use it again, and to
flush the note down the toilet as soon as they read it.
       I sealed the note in the ziplock and left Syd's room.  Thankfully,
the Great Room was once again totally empty.  I hurried downstairs and
unlocked the gate before stepping into the cell as I put the key back in
the ziplock.  I lifted the lid of the toilet up, and stuck the ziplock into
the disgusting water before closing the lid again and leaving the room on
the first story level.
       I took off my gloves and went into the mess hall.  It was so early,
almost no one was down there.  I got a big, healthy breakfast, and forced
myself to eat even though I was already getting nervous.
       I was in Cornelius's office at our normal meeting time.  He
continued drilling me over the guest list, and with my mind being on what
was going on in the Great Room, I found it harder than usual to
concentrate.  But he kept drilling me until lunchtime, forcing me to learn
them all.  I was all for studying hard in the subjects I appreciated, but I
hadn't had to waste my brainpower on something this esoteric and useless
since my high school English teacher made us memorize Shakespeare.  I
couldn't believe that I had to devote my memory banks to something even
more useless than that.
       Cornelius told me that Parker had got him to agree to start ending
our sessions at 10:30 for the time being, to allow the two of us time to
train.
       Once Cornelius dismissed me, I quickly started to rush out towards
the Great Room.  "Where are you off to in such a charge, young man?"
Cornelius asked me.
       I knew I couldn't say I was going to the Great Room, as that might
lead to some suspicion.  "Outside to meet Parker and Syd for my lesson."
       "I think you're headed the wrong way." Cornelius said.  "The riding
ranges are out back, that way."  He pointed.
       "Oh, right.  Sorry, this mansion is SO confusing."
       "I suppose so."
       He watched me as I walked outside, and I decided to wait until later
to check the Great Room out.  I saw Syd first, and like usual, seeing Syd's
egotistical smile made me angry.  And then I saw Parker, and it was the
first time that his kind visage brought me nothing but disgust.  The only
two people I had less interest in spending a lesson with were Jericho and
Jeremiah.  Parker had his Curie behind him, but Syd still hadn't gotten his
mount.
       Parker smiled at me warmly, and then came over and gave me a hug,
making me tense up.  "Hey, Jake, are you doing okay?  I was so worried when
you didn't come around for dinner last night."
       "Doing just fine, thank you," I said.
       "Don't worry," Syd said with an evil glint in his eye.  "I took the
opportunity to tell everyone that you didn't eat dinner because you were
feeling sick to your stomach after insisting on drinking down a few dozens
of my jizz loads."
       I rolled my eyes, and Parker looked highly annoyed.  "I told Syd
that if you preferred to, we could do this lesson without him there, just
the two of us."  I could only imagine what sort of statement that had come
out of Syd's mouth that would prompt that declaration.
       I couldn't believe I was saying what came out of my mouth next.  "I
want Syd to be present."  The truth was, I wanted anything but.  But the
last thing I wanted was for Parker and I to be alone.  I was worried I
might let it slip what I had seen him doing the day before with his sister,
and I knew that was absolutely the wrong thing to do.
       "Well, there's a shocker," Syd said.  "You two start without me."
He looked at the coil of rope he was holding in his hand.  "If you assumed
I brought this out for ropin, well, yer a damn fool.  This is so I can tie
down Donnie onto the stable ladder and give him a righteous humpin' with my
poker."
       "Jake, you'd better get your horse before you have to see anything
in the stable that might spoil the morning," Parker said to me.
       "Right."  I started off towards the stable.
       "I'll tag along."  Syd said, strolling by my side, humming one of
his country songs.
       "Syd, you can't ditch me again," I pleaded, as soon as we were out
of earshot of Parker.
       "Aw, isn't that cute, Jakey's all jealous of Donnie!  I'm more than
willing to tie you up instead and give you the poking of a lifetime,
partner."
       "I'm not jealous of Donnie!  I don't care what you do with Donnie, I
just don't want to be alone with Parker."
       He raised an eyebrow.  "Is there a storm brewin' in paradise?  A
lover's spat?  What, did he fuck you too hard, get you all bruised up?"
       "No, of course not!"
       "Oh right, what am I thinking?  With Parker, I guess the opposite
would be true.  So, let me guess, did you get sick of feeling like you're
getting screwed by a dick made up entirely of rainbows, kittens, and
sunshine?  When all you really want is some passion in the sack, someone to
pull yer hair while they plow the hell outta you?  Did you get tired of his
endless sweet kisses and corny love letters?"
       I shivered with anger.  "No, Syd.  I've told you a million times
that he and I were never messing around.  I just want you there because we
need to practice for the rodeo, is all."
       "Screw that," he said.  "Yesterday I hung around the two of you only
to needlessly watch you throw the rope hundreds of times and miss the
target.  I don't need that again."
       "I'm already much better at roping, I promise you."
       We entered the stable, and Donnie was in the center of the floor,
shoveling manure.
       "Okay, well, I'll tell ya what.  I'll leave it up to Donnie Boy."
       "Leave what up to me?"
       "Donnie, I'll give ya two options.  You can keep on shoveling that
horseshit, and I can ride my horse around with Jakey, or I can rope ya down
to that there ladder, and I can ride yer ass instead.  What'll it be?"
       For once he didn't say anything, but responded by ripping his shirt
open and pulling down his pants.
       "That's what I thought you'd say," Syd hollered, and tore open a
condom wrapper with his teeth.
       While the two of them started to have wooden ladder and rope
assisted sexual relations, I went to my damaged horse Patches and said
hello to him.  He seemed happy to see me, poor thing.
       As I went out to fetch a saddle, I had to pass close to Syd and
Donnie, and caught a glimpse of Syd's condom-covered dick plowing away at
Donnie, hole.
       Right then, a huge torrent of water splashed all over Syd and
Donnie.  I looked to my right to see Polly holding a large empty bucket,
clearly the culprit.
       "Ack, freezing!" Donnie yelled.
       "Ah!" Syd said, pulling off of Donnie.  "Jakey, what the hell's the
matter with you?  You better be planning to lick all this water off me."
       "It wasn't me."
       Syd turned to see Polly standing there.  "Polly?!"
       "Oh great, SHE'S back," Donnie said.  "Why'd ya have ta get us all
wet, bitch?  The water's freezing!"
       "That'll be enough honey-makin' for yous," Polly said.  "Get back to
work, boy!"
       "Polly, what on Earth are ya doin' here?" Syd asked.
       "I been tasked with turning this messed up stable around to right,"
she said.  "Now, untie the boy so he can get back to work.  He ain't
finishing `til this place is all cleaned up."
       Syd started to untie Donnie.
       "You got a lot of nerve callin' me `boy' when I'm a whole lot older
than you," Donnie complained.  "And I'll fuck who I want when I want, like
I always done in this stable."
       "As long as they put me in charge here, I'll call you a whole lot
less kind names than `boy' whenever I please.  I told ya this stable better
be in proper order before supper, and I meaned it.  Yous a slave, ain't ya?
You burned?"
       Donnie turned around and showed the "L" tattoo on the back of his
neck.  "I ain't," he said.
       "Well, you sure act like one.  Slaves be acting like damn fools.
Poppa always told me, slaves were extra lazy `cause they had no motivation
to do what they do, yet here you are, with the free mark, and still ya as
lazy a willow tree.  Now, get back to work shoveling all the shit you've
let pile up for weeks."
       "You can't make me," he said.  "You ain't fucking Jericho."
       "I ain't the Governor, but I've been given authority over this
stable by Cornelius, the Governor's head of Cabinet," she said.  "You want
to challenge my authority, you better get the Governor down here himself to
tell me different."
       Donnie squinted at her angrily, and then grabbed the shovel.
       "I didn't think so," she said.
       "Shouldn't you be in school, Polly?" asked Syd angrily.
       "They kicked me outta school when I was a girl, tellin' me school
was no place for a girl like me after I got into a fight with some of the
vampire boys who were bullyin' me."
       "I know Jennie Logan never told no girl that," Syd said.  "This
couldn't have been Fools Gold."
       "I only ever passed through Fools Gold," she said.  "But I hear it's
the best place to live."
       "You should go there, Polly," I said.  "Jennie would love to have
you in her school.  I'd bet she'd work with you after class to get you up
to speed.  An education is a priceless thing, Polly."
       "Perhaps yer right," she said.  "Maybe I'll just stay here a couple
months, until this stable is back to normal and these horses are healthy
again.  Then maybe make my way down to Fools Gold."
       "Well," Syd said.  "No point in me hanging around here.  I'm gonna
ride out behind the arena.  There's a nice spot back there out of sight of
everyone.  That's where I'll be, if anyone should need me."
       Donnie perked up his ears.
       Polly scowled.  "I may be young, but I ain't born this morning.  I
ain't letting this boy go anywhere today, no how."
       Syd sighed.  "Fine, guess I won't me needing this after all."  He
pulled off his condom and made to throw it on the ground.
       "If ya litter that on my newly clean stable-floor, Syd, I'll throw
another bucket o' water on yous."
       "Alright, alright, I hear ya."  Syd pulled his pants back up, and
then stuffed the condom into his pocket.
       I frowned.  "Remind me never to pull anything out of your jeans'
pockets without putting on my latex gloves."
       "You can stick yer hands in my pockets anytime ya like, Jakey, with
or without gloves on."
       Polly gave me a look.  "Did yous get the Free Mark yet?" she asked
me.
       "Nope," I said.
       "That's something we should get ya, now that I've been reminded
`bout it," Syd said.
       "Uh, I would never, ever get a tattoo," I said.
       "Oh, come on, don't be such a baby," Polly said to me.  "It ain't
gonna hurt THAT much."
       "It's not the pain I'm worried about," I said.  "It can't be good
for you to permanently inject ink into your skin.  Plus, I would never,
ever want an `L' on my neck."
       "That one letter could well save yer life," Polly said.
       "No, it's just not an option," I said.
       Syd seemed to notice Patches for the first time, as I was leading
him around by the reins.  He did a double take and lowered his eyebrows in
disgust.  "Aww, Jakey, I'm so sorry there weren't any good horses left, and
you were forced to ride a stallion as butt ugly as that one.  I know the
idea of you being seen riding around on that goddamn Freddy Kruger horse
must embarrass you to no end, so if ya want, we can share one of the
Clydesdale's today."
       "No," I said.  "There's nothing wrong with my horse.  He's not
ugly."
       "Are ya fucking me?" he asked.  "Jakey, I can't tell the difference
between his face and his ass."
       "He's my horse, and there's nothing wrong with him."
       "Oh, yeah, that horse could win top prize in a horse beauty pageant.
Jakey, yer deluding yerself, just like you delude yerself into believing
that Parker could possibly give you the kind of sex I can with his missing
leg and damaged ego."
       "Spare me your judgments about matters you have no idea about," I
said as I pulled Patches out of the stable and Syd followed.
       Syd and I both mounted our horses and left Donnie cleaning the
stable under Polly's careful gaze.  By the time we hooked back in with
Parker and his horse, I was smiling to myself that Polly was pretty much
single-handedly responsible for making sure I didn't have to spend this
lesson alone with Parker after all.
       "We're going to go over to the practice pens and start with Heading
and Heeling," Parker announced once we told him Syd would be joining us.
"Jake, it looks like your horse is taking to you well.  It's hard to
believe how shy he was acting yesterday."
       "Yes, he's like a whole new horse today."
       "It's hard to blame him," Syd said.  "If I looked like he did, I'd
sooner jump off a cliff than be seen by the other horses."
       "If you looked like that, brother, I think you'd be shocked at the
courage you would find to turn tragedy into growth."
       "Growth?  Me?  Fuck that," Syd said.  "If it's a part of me and it
ain't my huge floppy dick, it ain't gonna grow."
       "Well, Syd, you're lucky then that you've been so lucky," I said.
"You've never had a major life challenge to overcome, like the rest of us."
       "Hey now, it ain't so easy being the studliest guy on Earth, with
ladies and boys everywhere always trying to break my door down, born into
the lap of luxury where I never had to work a day in my life unless I
wanted to, and knowing that my lucky birthright has me being next in line
for a Governorship that could last centuries in which no one can tell me
what the fuck to do.  Wait a second, what am I saying?  Of course it's
fucking easy to be me.  I'm the luckiest guy on the planet."
       Parker led us on his horse to an area to the south of the stables
that contained a number of areas penned off from the rest of the field by
wooden fences.  The specific one we had approached had about ten calves in
it.  They could have been considered to be cute if they weren't such dirty
animals.  Parker opened the fence gate, and all three of us rode into the
calf pen before Parker shut the gate again.
       "What am I thinking?" Parker asked.  "For this event you can use a
smaller horse, and it will probably be beneficial to do just that.  It's up
to you.  You'll lose some power, but gain maneuverability.  For now, since
you won't have a standard horse of your own, why don't you ride Curie here.
It would be better for you to ride her in the competition than it would be
for you to use one of the public horses that get overused."  He started to
get off the horse, and I did the same to Patches.
       I tried to take Curie's reins from Parker, but she leaned forward
and made to bite me.
       "Curie, please stop that," Parker said.  "Sorry, she can be a bit of
a handful."
       "She's the biggest diva in the stables, I'd say," Syd said.
       "She's not a diva."  He petted her, but she actually reached over
and snapped on his hand.  He pulled it away, bleeding.  "Okay, maybe she's
a bit of a diva.  Let me work with her, and she'll let you get on.  Just
give us a few minutes."
       "Oh my god, this is so boring," Syd said, jumping off his horse and
lounging against the pen wall, smoking and playing with the mound in his
jeans crotch.
       Parker tried to get Curie to accept me for over fifteen minutes to
no avail.
       Finally, Syd got up.  "Here, let me give this a shot before I shoot
myself out of boredom," he said, coming towards the horse.
       "If she won't respond to me, why would she ever respond to you,
Syd?"
       "I don't know, I'm no horse whisperer."
       But all Syd had to do was reach out and touch Curie, and her icy
demeanor melted.  He not only let her put his hands on her, she scooted
towards him.
       "I can't believe this," Parker said, sounding humiliated.
       "See?" Syd asked.  "Most horses hate me, but some of the fine lady
horses take a real likin' to me.  Just like real life, suppose."
       Syd kept on petting her while Parker helped me into her saddle.  And
she seemed to be fine once Syd actually let her go and mounted his horse
again.  I practiced guiding her around.  I could tell she knew what I
wanted her to do, but she wasn't the most responsive horse, not in the
slightest.  She did what I asked most of the time, but often much slower
than she should have.
       Parker mounted Patches without that horse giving any trouble at all.
"When you two will be facing the Heading and Heeling event in the
competition, you'll be let loose upon a number of cattle, and the two of
you will have to work together in order to tie them down."
       "Work together?"  I asked, incredulous.  "Syd and I can't work
together on anything."
       "That's not true," Syd said.  "We make `bout the smokiest pair of
lovers I can imagine.  We just need to apply the magic we make in our bed
to our rodeo events."
       "Are you kidding me?" I asked.  "We are completely incompatible as
lovers, just like we're incompatible in every other way."
       "He's right," Syd said to Parker.  "Come to think of it, he won't
even let me fuck him.  It's pretty difficult to be smoldering hot lovers
when there's not even the slightest bit of penetration involved, I'll tell
ya.  Maybe we should up and fix that.  If Jakey agreed to let me start
screwing him, he'd realize right away how much he loved it, and then we'd
be a whole lot closer, and we'd win for sure.  Jakey, I think you know the
best thing you can do to save yer family here."
       "That's cute, Syd, real cute," Parker said, clearly not amused.
"Jake, don't be fooled."
       "Syd, there's no way I'd ever let you convince me to agree to do
that.  Let me assure you, even if I were to let you top me, the experience
would rank up there with one of the worst experiences of my life.  And my
life has been no picnic, I assure you.  I would find the event so
unpleasant that I'd probably never be able to be touched by you ever again
without vomiting, even if it was the slightest touch of your hand."
       "Christ, Jakey, you can give a polite decline without ripping my
heart out," Syd said.
       "You always bragged that you didn't have a heart, didn't you?"
Parker asked.
       "Well, you didn't have to rip off my nuts, then," Syd corrected.
"Which is the far more serious offense.  Just ask Park."
       "Look, just because we hate each other doesn't mean--"
       "I never hated you, Jakey.  Not a hateful person at all."  I
remembered how all the worst things he had done to me, he had always
delivered with a charming smile, and I knew he was right.
       "Fine, just because I hate you enough for the both of us doesn't
mean we can't learn to work together in this rodeo.  We really don't have
any other choice.  Football teams have their quibbles all the time, and
sometimes the players pretty much openly hate each other.  But come game
day, everyone on the team knows what they have to get done because everyone
has a common goal: to win."
       "Well said," Parker said with a smile.
       "You kidding me, Parker?" Syd asked.  "Jake doesn't exactly have a
career of motivational speaking ahead of him with his played out pep talks
filled with on the nose sports comparisons.  Next he'll try to inspire us
by assuring us we'll hit a home run."
       "At least Jake's motivations aren't marred with sexual metaphors,"
Parker said.
       "Hey, everyone can understand a good sex comparison.  Jakey, if you
had only told me that our situation was just like when yer purdy little
butthole is getting split open by my monster unit.  Yer hole may be burning
in pain, but it needs to learn just to open up and accept the huge intruder
into yer chute, no matter how much it hates my dick.  `Cause once my head
hits home, hits that joy button, it'll all be worth it, even for yer angry
hole."
       "Oh, please.  That's really a stretch, Syd," I said.
       "Yup, a stretch, just like yer hole!"
       "You have such a delightful imagination, Syd," Parker said.  "I just
thank the Lord you're not in the business of writing children's
picture-books.  Jake, let me describe the process of this event.  Both you
and Syd should have satchels at your sides with a whole bunch of ropes
inside."  With that, Parker tossed us both bags containing lassoed ropes,
and we swung them over our shoulders.  "Syd will be the leader here."
       "Jakey, did ya hear that one?  Do you need to let that soak in yer
brain?  I'm gonna be the leader!"
       "Yes, I heard, thanks for the concern, Syd."
       "Syd's job as the fanged partner is to ride his horse around the
pen.  He needs to chase down one of the cattle and rope his head."
       "That's the `Heading' part of the event," Syd said.
       "I figured, thanks."
       "And then he'll need to use that rope to hold that animal in place,"
Parker said.  "And this is where you come in.  Once he's secured the animal
by the head, you'll need to ride in and rope the animal's hind legs,
tripping it."
       Syd yawned.  "Christ, my brother's explanations can go on for
eternity.  Luckily, I brought along a snack."  He reached into his jeans
pocket and pulled out an unwrapped corn dog.  "Mmm, fingerlicking good,
just like you feel `bout my real corndog," he said as he bit into the
thing.  "Want some?"
       "Syd, are you really offering me a food item that's been stored in
the same pocket you just stuffed your used condom into?"
       "Yeah, so?"
       I cringed.  "No, I do not want any."
       "You bro?"
       "Thanks, but no thanks," Parker said.  "I thankfully learned to stop
accepting any food you were offering me by the time I was four years old
after that awful tangerine incident."
       "Ha ha, yup, that was all sorts of funny," Syd said.
       "Anyway, Jake, once the animal has fallen to the ground, you two get
a point, and you can move on to the next animal."
       "What if the calf doesn't stay down?" I asked.
       "It probably won't stay down," Parker said.  "But it's considered
your point, so you can't have that score erased or try to rope the animal a
second time for a second score.  You just need to move on."
       By that time, Syd has dispatched his corn dog and was lighting up a
Marlboro.  "Enough talk," he said.  "I'm goddamn starting.  Jakey'll either
keep up or he won't."
       With that, Syd began riding off towards the nearest calf, keeping
the cigarette between his lips as he grabbed for a rope with his right
hand.
       I did my best to react as quickly as I could, riding fast to catch
up with him, and Parker stayed behind me.
       Syd reached one of the calves, and before he could frighten it away,
he threw his rope, the loop landing around the calf's neck, and he pulled
the spoke, tightening the rope around the calf's neck and holding the
animal firmly in place.
       "Now, the animal usually will buck its hind legs up at this time,
and that would be the perfect time to rope their feet," Parker said.
       "Come on, Jakey."
       I made sure Curie was firmly stopped before I reached into my bag
and pulled out a rope.  Remembering all I had learned the day before, I
started to spin the rope over my head, then let go and sent the loop
sailing over towards my target as it made its 180 degree turn.
       But the rope landed on top of the calf's back, not on the animal's
feet, and there was nothing for me to grab.
       "Wrong, Jakey," Syd complained.  "Ya look like yer tryin' to be the
header, like me.  I told ya he wouldn't be able to stand not leading,
Park."
       "Jake, you're throwing those ropes real well," Parker encouraged.
"But there's a slightly different technique needed here, as the rope needs
to come from underneath.  You need to almost do it underhanded.  Let me
show you."
       Parker pulled out a rope and started swinging it around low on his
right side.  Then he effortlessly sent the rope flying in an underhanded
arc towards the feet of the calf, getting it just as it kicked up its hind
legs.  He tightened the loop by yanking on the spoke, and pulled the calf
onto the ground.
       "That would be a point," Parker said as he let the animal go.  "Now,
try doing what I just did on another calf."
       I nodded, and Syd bounded off towards another poor animal, with me
on his tail.  This time once he headed the animal, I pulled out my rope and
tried to do it underhanded, just like Parker showed me.
       I got the motion right, and the loop would have gotten around the
hooves if they hadn't been dug into the ground.  "Let me try again," I
said.
       I waited until the calf was kicking, then I did the underhand
roping.  This time, the loop caught the hooves, and I excitedly yanked the
spoke, closing the loop around the legs.
       "You got it, that would be a point for you," Parker said
appreciatively.  "Why don't you two drop your ropes now and find another
animal to rope, just like the real competition?"
       "Because this is just plain bullshit without the real swingin' dick
bulls," Syd said.
       "What do you mean?" I asked.
       "Ain't no calves used in the real deal," Syd said.  "Just bulls.  I
say we practice taking down one of those mean beasts, so you know how."
       "It's too dangerous," Parker said.  "Another one of Jericho's
attempts to warp these events to serve his own twisted entertainment.  I
don't want Jake getting near those animals."
       Syd scoffed.  "If it was up to you, instead of cowboy hats we'd all
be wearing safety helmets."
       "What's so bad about that?" Parker asked.
       "Jakey ain't never gonna be prepared unless he learns to do it like
the competition does."
       "Jake's not reckless like you, Syd," Parker said.
       "But I'm willing to be reckless in order to protect my loved ones,"
I said.
       "A line that sounds like it came from my own head," Parker said, and
I wondered if he was picturing his sister, which made me feel sick all over
again.  "Alright, I'll acquiesce.  But only if we keep the danger to an
utmost minimum."
       "Fine."
       We rode to another wide open enclosure, this one containing much
larger specimens of the cattle species.  My heart started to race as we
entered the gate.
       "Don't do anything to incite them, Jake," Parker warned.  "Let Syd
take on the danger here.  He'll find a bull, rope it around the head or
horns, and hold it in place.  Only then should you dare approach the
animal, are we clear?"
       I nodded.
       "In other words, be a big, dripping pussy," Syd said, galloping off
towards the nearest bull, with Parker and I following behind at a safe
distance.
       I watched Syd lasso, uh, rope the big, dirty animal around the head.
Immediately, the bull started to fight, using all its mass to either pull
out of Syd's hands or knock him off his horse.
       "Oh Jakey, now would be a good time for you to get his feet!" Syd
said, clearly struggling to hold the thing.  "Anytime, sweetheart!"
       "Here I come," I said, riding towards Syd.
       "And this, dear brother, is exactly why telling Jakey to keep his
purdy little butt away from me was bad advice," Syd said.  "A good partner
stays close so the team can finish roping the bull quicker, then go to the
next one."
       "In the real competition, I promise to stay close, Syd," I said as I
rode towards him.  "I'll never forgive myself if we lose this competition
because of me."
       I carefully approached the animal from behind.
       "Don't get too close, Jake!" Parker warned.
       "I won't."
       I tossed my loop at the beast's feet, but it hit its hind legs
uselessly.  I pulled back my rope and tried again, waiting until the animal
was kicking.
       My second attempt landed beautifully.
       "That's it!" Parker yelled.
       I snapped the rope taut, locking the bull's feet together, then
pulled as hard as I could.  Together, we pulled the bull onto the ground.
       "There, that would be a point.  Jake, you have it down perfectly."
       "He's lucky he has such a stud for a partner," Syd said.
       Parker wanted to stop there, but I had us do one more bull, until I
felt confident that I really had it down.  Only then did I lead them back
to the stable to put our horses away.
       Parker was all sorts of encouraging congratulations with me as the
three of us reentered the mansion, though I had to hide my disturbed
shudders when his congratulatory hand rubbed my back.
       "Well, I'd better bathe, and then head back up to the lab to meet
Annie," Parker said.  "See you two later.  Jake, you are truly a pleasure
to teach.  Never have I trained someone with as natural athleticism as
you."  He patted me on the shoulder and walked towards the Great Room.
       "I'd better take a bath and find someone to bed," Syd said to me.
"You're welcome to join me in one or both of those events, Jakey."
       "I'll pick neither, thanks."
       Syd tipped his hat and went off towards the Great Room as well.  I
walked the short distance to the mess hall.
       Once I ordered my food, I noticed Cornelius, and hoped he wouldn't
see me.  He saw me immediately however, and waved me over.
       "I'd love it if you joined me for lunch, Mr. Groves," he said.
       "Um, okay," I said, sitting.
       "I want you to start thinking about the menu you want prepared for
your special event," he said as we started to eat, and listed all the many
options he had thought of.  When I had picked from his selections, he asked
if there was anything else he could help me with.
       I looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot, and then I
said, "Cornelius, I was hoping you could explain to me everything you knew
about the details of my father's killing."
       He suddenly froze uncomfortably.  "Has the Governor permitted me to
speak about this?"
       "No, but I've already been assured the Governor had nothing to do
with my father's death," I said.
       "Logically that would make sense, yes," he said.  "I'm afraid this
information is of a sensitive nature, Mr. Groves."  I had told him many
times to call me by my first name, but he always seemed to revert back to
formalities for some reason.
       "My father was murdered, I'm told now, leaving behind two small
children and a financially struggling widow," I said.  "Believe me, the
deed is way more of a sensitive nature to me than it is to you."
       He sighed.  "Alright, I'll tell you what I know, but only because
you'll soon be a Logan yourself, and I haven't specifically been asked to
keep this from you.  What do you know so far?"
       I was very pleased with his choice.  "I know that another Blood
contacted you about tracking down the special gene," I said, deciding not
to mention Tucker as my source.  "I know that you were put in charge of
working with this other Blood."
       "With the Petrov Blood, the one that now controls all of Europe," he
said, adopting his stuffy, professorial tone of voice.  Actually, he seemed
to only have small deviations from that tone.  "They thought they had
discovered a family line of men that they were pretty sure passed down this
special gene through the males."
       "How did they figure this out?" I asked.  "Is there some kind of
genetic test that can be done?" I asked.
       Cornelius snickered.  "You may have noticed us vampires are not
exactly overflowing with spare geneticists," he said.  "No, they never
found the gene under those circumstances, Mr. Groves.  They did it purely
through genealogy."
       "But I thought only one male in the world has this gene active at a
time?" I asked.
       "That's correct."
       "And that unless you are the one like me to have it activate,
there's no way of telling who had a dormant gene."
       He nodded.  "Well, there is one trait the Logan Blood discovered all
men who hold the dormant gene have.  They all are either homosexual or
bisexual, a trait which makes the gene less likely to pass on, especially
considering it can only be passed through males."
       "But assuming anyone who was gay or bisexual were dormant gene
carriers would be ridiculous," I said.  "Correlation does not imply
causality."
       "Yes, precisely.  We could only guess that a particular family line
possessed the gene, there would be no way to prove any of it.  Luckily, the
Petrovs were very sure of their genealogy.  You see, before your gene
activated, a man lived for centuries by the name of The Red.  No one was
sure what nationality he was, so his family line was never traced.  But the
one who had the gene activate before The Red the Petrovs tracked down
centuries back.  His gene activated in his later life, after he had
children.  Sons, specifically.  The Petrov Blood had worked for who knows
how long tracing the males in that line, but the path went cold in Europe
in the early 1800's, when the family moved to the US.  I'm sure they tried
to continue the genealogy in America, or else they surely would have never
consented to work with us.  They must have failed, and that's why the
Governor asked me to help them."
       "And that's how you found my father?" I asked.
       "No, actually.  I was able to rediscover the family line in Texas,
but it stopped cold.  The last male, a Mr. Ring in Chattanooga who was
forty-some years older than you, died childless.  We all assumed the whole
event had been a wild goose chase, and the Governor told me to stop working
with the Petrovs.  After that point, I was cut out of the loop."
       "What happened after?" I asked.
       "I wasn't told, but I do know the Governor asked Parker to come out
of retirement to do some specific reconnaissance mission.  I know this
because I helped draft a specific legal document between the two regarding
the issue.  What the particulars were, I'm not sure, and I never saw fit to
ask."
       "Alright, thanks Cornelius," I said.
       "Mind if I join you?" said a familiar voice behind me, and I turned
to see Parker, looking down at me with his warm smile.  I thought I had
been rid of him and seeing him so soon again made my stomach sour.  "I
ignored one of my samples in the lab just now and the test all went to
heck, so I figured it was a good place to take a break."  I knew exactly
what had been distracting him in that lab, and it had nothing to do with
chemistry.  At least not in the literal sense of the word.
       "Uh, sure," I said, not really able to think of any good reason to
say no.
       Parker sat down.  "Well, I'll leave you two soon-to-be bothers
alone," Cornelius said politely as he got up.
       "No, stay Cornelius," I said, not wanting to be alone with Parker.
"You can finish your lunch with us."
       "I'm already done, actually, Mr. Groves.  Good day Mr. Logan."
       "Good day to you, Cornelius," Parker said, and the man left.  "You
did really, really well today, Jake.  You truly are a remarkable person, to
be able to pick up such advanced skills so quickly.  And such a gifted
intellectual as well."
       "Oh, thanks."
       "Hey listen," he said.  "Annie's made plans for this afternoon, so I
figured there's nothing I'd rather do than hit the stream alone with you.
I know you meet with Boyd, but we could work around that.  What do you
say?"
       I shook my head, no longer wanting to spend any personal time with
Parker in which he might start to suspect my new knowledge of his
incestuous activities.  "You know, I'm actually busy this entire afternoon.
Some other time?"
       "Sure," he said.  "I'm just glad to have a fishing buddy, you know?
Heck, I'm glad to have any kind of buddy here at Mareshead.  It's been a
long time since I had a guy friend I could confide in.  Syd certainly
doesn't fit in that description.  Cornelius is a decent enough fellow, but
a bit stiff.  You coming here has been a real lifesaver for me."  He looked
at me with such earnestness; it was hard to reconcile this sweet man with
the one I had seen inside his sister.
       "Hey, I feel the same way," I said, spitting the lie out of my mouth
as quickly as possible.
       He reached across the table and grabbed my hand, an act that made me
physically repulsed.  It was as if his body had been covered with filth; I
wanted to snatch my own hand away, but I was forced to keep it in place.
"That means a lot to me.  Look, Jake.  I've been really bothered by how
much it seems to me that Syd is taking advantage of the situation you are
in."  He looked around to make sure no one was in earshot, and then spoke
in a hushed tone.  "You alluded to the idea that he might be asking some
sort of price for this charade he has created.  Please tell me he isn't
expecting some sort of sexual payment.  That would be a new low for Syd,
but anything's possible."
       I thought about being honest, figuring Parker might be able to talk
to Syd into dropping my half of the arrangement we made.  But I really felt
uncomfortable now being open with Parker in any way, shape, or form.  How
could I trust him if all he had been doing was lie to me?
       "No, there's nothing like that going on with Syd," I said.
       "Whew, that's a relief to hear.  Thanks for being honest with me."
       I stuffed the last large section of sandwich in my mouth.  "Looks
like I'm done with my meal.  I'll talk to you later, Parker."
       "Alright, Jake.  Be well."
       It was time for my lesson with Boyd, so I walked back out to the
stables.  Before I could even go in and get my horse, I saw Boyd standing
there, looking as handsome as ever in his tight buckskin riding outfit.
       Watching him, I reached a major insight.  Before, there had been a
bit of a love triangle between Boyd, Parker and myself, as I had been
highly attracted to both men at once, and feeling guilty over my
indecisiveness.  But since then, Parker had been violently and irreversibly
removed from that equation, leaving one very desirable man standing, so I
was free to make up my mind.
       I had spent plenty of time with Boyd, and not once did he show any
sign of a bad side.  Unlike Viktor, who I should have known would be bad
news from the very first time I met him, and unlike Syd, in Tahoe, who
tried his very best to conceal all of his bad traits, yet they still
managed to shine through to me enough to annoy me even then when I thought
I had feelings for him.  Boyd was more similar to Ahmad to me, both of whom
seemed to have no major faults, though Ahmad was unfortunately straight, so
that removed him from the equation as well.
       Even when I had been duped into thinking Parker was some sort of
saint, I never could get a clear read on whether he liked me or not
(because he obviously never did).  One of my favorite things about Boyd was
that he never played games with his intentions, he hit on me the very first
day I met him, after the two of us clearly had all sorts of sexual
chemistry.
       "What should we cover today, kid?" Boyd asked smiling his sexy smile
at me.
       I wanted to answer with a bit of a racy pun, say something
flirtatious, but I stopped short.  I remembered that I had to play the role
with Boyd of being Syd's fiancé, which was agonizing.  I had told Syd
that after Parker, I wouldn't tell anyone else the truth about our fake
marriage, but could I make an exception with Boyd so that the two of us
could have some semblance of a normal courtship, instead of making do with
fanning the flames of some forbidden desire?
       "Parker taught me how to lasso, I mean rope, and I've learned how to
Head and Heel," I finally said.
       "Great, that's one rodeo event that me and you can call off then,"
he said.
       "Listen, Boyd, can I ask you something?"
       "I don't see why not."
       I thought about it.  "Look, I'm going to be honest here."
       "Okay."
       "I, uh, I..."
       I couldn't do it.  I couldn't break a promise to Syd not to tell
anyone else.  It was so, so frustrating.
       "I want you to be the only one who trains me from now on," I said.
       "What about Parker?"
       "I've gone as far as I can with him.  He's done."
       Was that a subtle smile I detected very quickly in the corner of his
mouth?  "That's fine by me," he said.  "I can teach you everything you need
to know.  `Course, you'll probably want to train some with Syd, just to
make sure the two of you are on the same page."
       "Of course."
       "But other than that, yeah, I'd love to teach ya.  Hell, I'd be
straight up lyin' if I claimed these teachings weren't the highlight of my
days."
       "That's really sweet, Boyd, I feel the same way."
       He smiled at me in a way that seemed much more than friendly, let
himself have that moment, then he seemed to shake the sentiment off and
return to business.  "So, ya know how to Head n' Heel, ya know how to Pole
Bend, and ya got the Axe Throwing down.  That's three events covered.  I
think the next thing we should teach you is Calf Ropin.'  This event really
ain't that challenging.  There's just one lil' Jericho twist to the thing
that yer gonna hate."
       "Please tell me it's not as dangerous as axes flying towards my
body."
       "The twist doesn't make it any more dangerous, really.  You'll see.
We'll need one of the boosted Clydesdales for this one."
       "Oh, perfect, I claimed a boosted horse for my own.  I'll go grab
him and be back in a jif."
       While I went into the stable, I started to figure that if Jericho
had come up with some sort of non- dangerous twist to this event that I
would despise, that probably meant it had some sort of animal cruelty mixed
in, and I hoped it wasn't something that would betray my personal ethics.
       Patches was again happy to see me, and I quickly got him saddled and
led him out by his reins to meet Boyd.
       "Not the most attractive specimen of the horse species, ain't he?"
asked Boyd when he saw Patches.
       "Perhaps not, but he's about the sweetest.  Though almost
frighteningly large, I'm afraid."
       "Well, you'll just have to hold onto me extra tight just to make
sure you don't fall."
        "Should I get on in front or in back?"
       "Behind me," he said, and he helped pull me up onto the saddle
behind me.  "For this event, I'll be the rider and you the passenger."
       Patches didn't seem to have any problem with Boyd riding him, though
he seemed a little less connected to him than he was to me.  As we rode off
towards the fields, I noticed a satchel that Boyd had clipped onto the
right side of the saddle.  Inside were a bunch of ropes.  "What are these
for?"
       "For you to rope the calves with," he said.
       He rode us to the same enclosure that I had visited earlier with
Parker and Syd, the fenced off area where a bunch of calves roamed free.
He stopped the horse and dismounted, tying the reins to the log fence.
"Here, come on down."
       He helped me off Patches from below, his strong hand gripping my
butt as it always did, and I got to the ground.
       "Calf Ropin.'  This is another event where you'll need to work yer
partner."
       "Okay."
       "Now, for this one, you won't be allowed to touch the horse's reins.
It's my job to ride the horse around, wherever we need to go.  And where
we'll need to go is after `em calves.  Go after `em as fast as we can
manage.  Yer job is to rope `em from on top of that horse around the head."
       "Like Syd was doing earlier in our Heading and Heeling event."
       "Right, just the same," Boyd said.  "But there's an extra level of
athleticism required here for you.  Once you roped the animal, I'm gonna
take the spoke from ya and hold the horse steady, while you, ya gotta grab
another rope, jump down off the horse, and tie the calf's legs, like this."
Boyd demonstrated how to tie the calf's hind legs.
        "Once you tie `em up, you gotta push the animal to the ground, and
that will be a point for you.  Then you let go of the rope and jump on as
fast as you can back up on the horse, `cause we gotta do that to the other
calves as fast as we can manage."
       "Kind of like in the Heading and Heeling event," I said.  "Okay, I
get the concept."
       "Great, yer a quick learner."  He took off his cowboy hat, then
started to pull his buckskin riding shirt up and off his muscular body, I
figured because he must have been hot.  It seemed no easy task to pull such
a tight shirt off such a large, muscled upper body, especially considering
the fabric of the buckskin tended to stick, but he proved himself
powerfully lithe as he easily removed it and tossed it aside, putting his
cowboy hat back on.
       Next, he kicked off his boots off, and then pulled his fat belt
buckle off.  When he pulled the button fly of his jeans open, I figured he
must have been stopping to take a piss, but then he started pulling off his
leather chaps.
       "Uh, what exactly are you doing?" I asked, not wanting to by any
means stop him from getting his gorgeous body as naked as he wanted it to
be, but totally bewildered by it.
       "This is the Jericho twist I warned ya about," he said.  "We gotta
do this event as naked as when we were pushed outta our mamas."
       "Whoa, seriously?" I asked.
       "Damn right, no matter how cold it is.  So go on and strip, kid."
       "This is so bizarre," I said, starting to unbutton my shirt.  This
was the second time I had been required to strip naked in front of Boyd,
and the same count for him as well.  Obviously, Boyd had not invented the
bizarre nudity additions to the rodeo rules, but I was sure that if it had
been Parker teaching me these, he would have mentioned that the rules
required us to be naked, yet never go so far as to actually have one or
both of us to be nude just for training purposes.  Because Parker really
never wanted to see me naked, as he wasn't the least bit interested in me.
And there were two reasons someone would want me to see them naked, either
they wanted to show off their body, like Syd, or were interested in me
sexually...  come to think of it, Syd also fit into the second category.
But Parker clearly didn't fit into either one of those two reasons.
       So I had to figure out which of the two categories Boyd fit into,
who was all too eager to follow the rodeo nudity rules with me, even though
this was only practice.  Boyd clearly wasn't self-deprecating about his
body like Parker had seemed, as Parker clearly had self-consciousness
issues.  Boyd had never seemed anything other than confident and
comfortable with his body or self image.  But unlike Syd, Boyd didn't seem
to operate on the far extreme either, he wasn't boastful or egotistical.
So while he certainly had a reason to show off his amazing naked body, I
knew that it wasn't the reason he was so relaxed about nudity with me.
       That meant he was interested in me, romantically and sexually, and
that brought a smile to my face.  Of course, he had to respect the fact
that I was engaged to someone else, so he couldn't be open about it.  But
when opportunity arose in the shape of bizarre rodeo rules, instead of
shying away from those, he embraced them.
       "Now, they let you wear yer hat and gloves."
       "I'm not wearing a hat," I said, taking my shirt off, folding it
over the fence.
       "That you ain't," he said.  "You can wear yer boots too."
       "I don't have any boots, I'm wearing Nikes."
       "What are those?"
       "Basketball shoes."
       "Well, you can keep those on.  Might wanna consider getting a pair
of boots, Jake."
       "I really don't want to conform to the dress styles of this
backwards society," I said.  "I'm not a cowboy, and I don't need to dress
like one."
       "Well, when a horse stomps on yer feet, yer gonna wish ya had some
hard boots on."
       "Duly noted," I said, slipping my riding gloves on.
       With his back turned to me, he pulled his jeans down his naked body.
He apparently wasn't wearing any underwear, because beneath his jeans lay
the stunning bare globes of his smooth, mocha butt.
       I took off my shoes and pulled off my pants, carefully draping them
over the fence as well.
       After he tossed his jeans aside, he grabbed his discarded chaps and
started to put those back on.  "I find that in competition, I can usually
get away with wearing some chaps and a belt too," he said.
       He pulled his chaps up, then grabbed his belt and belt buckle, and
tied them around his naked waist.  Then he attached the top of his chaps to
the belt, holding them up tightly.  It was so weird to see his muscular,
mocha-smooth butt out there in the open when most of the rest of his lower
leg was covered.  He started putting his boots back on.
       I pulled off my underwear and put it over the fence before tying my
shoes carefully back on, feeling very strange that I was out in the open
only wearing gloves and shoes.  Even though we weren't exactly in the
middle of Times Square, the fields had at least a dozen other riders moving
about within view of us, and I hoped we weren't scandalizing anyone.
       Boyd turned around to face me.  "It's business time," he said, and I
looked down at his body.  His bare upper body looked heaven –sent, and
below that large belt buckle was an even larger unit hanging out free of
the chaps, its huge mushroom cap pressed against the leather.
       He helped me back onto the horse, but this time, his strong hands
were pushing against my bare butt.  It made me wonder if he really needed
to help me in this way, or if he was just finding a legitimate excuse to
touch me in a way that would have otherwise been forbidden.  It made my
heart flutter.  Afterwards, he got up into the saddle, sitting in front of
me and holding onto the reins.  The first time I had done this position
with him, I had noticed how even though the saddle was big enough for two,
it was sloped in a concave way, pulling both riders towards the lowest
point in the center.  Before, I had tried to combat that tendency by
sitting as far back in the saddle as possible, yet he had insisted I hold
onto him.
       This was the first time we had ever ridden naked together, and it
was making me rethink everything I thought I knew.  Instead of sitting
against him, I pulled back in the saddle, placing a couple inches between
my crotch and his butt.  When he started to trot the horse towards the
nearest calf, I put my hands gingerly on his hard, ridged sides, staring at
his bare, muscled back as it caught the western sun in his sweat.
       The calf we approached was sleeping on the ground, and I knew what I
had to do; I pulled out one of the ropes and started to spin it overhead.
Boyd stopped the horse completely, and I launched the hoop towards the
animal.  The lasso caught the sleeping animal by surprise, but landed its
mark in the first attempt.  Feeling good, I pulled the rope tight enough to
hold onto it without hurting it.
       "Good, now hand it over," Boyd said, taking the spoke from me and
holding onto the animal hard as it tried to fight free.
       I grabbed another rope and carefully stepped down off the stirrups
and onto the ground.  It was hard to hold onto the rope and climb off such
a huge animal at the same time; next time I would grab the rope after I had
gotten off the horse.
       Once my shoe met dirt, I walked over to the animal, and then
stopped.  "What's the safest way to approach a kicking animal?" I asked.
       "Just get in there and show it who's boss," was his reply, so many
miles away from anything Parker would have said.  "Try not to get kicked in
the process," he sagely added.
       I did as he instructed, grabbing onto the calf with my gloves and
overpowering it with my upper body.  I roped it, and then knocked it to the
ground.
       "Good, that's it, now get yer ass back over here," Boyd said.
       I dropped the rope and walked back to Boyd.
       "When you got dismounted, I couldn't really help ya `cause I was
wrestling with the calf," he said.  "But when ya come back on, I have my
hands free, so I can help ya up."
       I put my left foot in the left stirrup and tried to get up, while
Boyd reached back and pulled me up into the saddle.
       "Good, that's it."
       "Seems easy," I said.
       "Yeah, but that was not at an acceptable swiftness.  Now, remember,
this is a race.  Ya ain't gonna win this if you take a snail's pace, Jake."
       "That's fine," I said.  "Let's keep going, and this time, let's set
a pace that you think will win us the race."
       He laughed.  "Are you sure you're ready for that?" he asked.
       "Sure."
       "Yah!"
       Patches took off at a run, making me lose my balance.  I dug my
hands into Boyd's sides, but that minimal contact wasn't doing much, so I
instinctively squeezed my legs together.
       When the horse started to go even faster, I remembered what Boyd had
taught me, and I eased off.
       "Ya gotta grab onto me hard when we do this, or you'll fall off and
break yer neck."
       I wasn't going to argue with that.  I sat forward until my front was
pressed against his statuesque, rippling back, my crotch against his
butt. I placed my face against his back, and I inhaled his masculine scent,
a mixture of hay and sweat.
       "Anytime you're not roping a calf, you'd best keep those hands
locked to me tighter than that," he said, placing my hands on his wonderful
bare chest, the smooth chocolate pecs feeling so firm in my hands, my
fingers rubbing his black nipples.
       Boyd started to pull us towards one of the grazing calves nearby,
and when we were a few yards away, I let go of his chest and started to
pull out a new rope.  I should have known a calf that wasn't deep in
slumber would run from its pursuers, but when the animal took off and Boyd
abruptly changed course and sped up, I found myself nearly falling off
again.
       In order to stay in the saddle, I had to let go of the rope and
fiercely grab out onto Boyd's body in front of me.  But because I was
slipping backwards at the time, my hands ended up much lower on his body
than before, and my the time I used his body to regain my balance, I
realized exactly where my hands were.
       My right hand was digging into his black, wiry pubes, which was bad
enough.  But, mortifyingly, my left hand was further down, grabbing onto
his huge wiener, which even though it was still soft, was still a huge
handful.  I may have been embarrassed, but I couldn't deny that the feeling
of that soft skin in my hand didn't set my passion on fire.
       "Whoops, sorry about that!" I said, moving my hands back up to his
ripped abs instead.
       "Don't worry about it, in the heat of the rodeo, you need to be able
to do whatever it takes to win the event.  If that means you need to grab
my johnson to hold on, I'm not gonna mind."
       "Okay," I said.
       "This time, yer gonna have to land a moving target, Jake," he said.
"This event could be the toughest roping work you'll be asked to do during
the whole competition.  Now, I'll get up close, you let go of me and rope
the thing."
       "I don't want to fall off!"
       "Keep your legs locked onto me," he said, and I intertwined my bare
ones with his chaps covered ones.  "And I won't make any sudden turns when
I feel you roping."
       I took a deep breath, let go of him, reached down for my rope, and
started to spin it over my head.  I threw the loop out towards the calf,
but the loop didn't travel far enough, and I came up short in more way than
one.
       "You need to compensate more for how fast the calf is going," Boyd
said.
       I pulled back my rope and started spinning the lasso again.  That
time, when I tossed the loop towards the calf, it caught it around the
neck.  I felt elated as I pulled the animal to a stop as gently as I could.
       Boyd grabbed the rope from me.  "This would be a good time to hold
on," he said.
       I grabbed onto his chest again as he stopped the horse as sharply as
he safely could, sending us flying forward, my body crushing into his bare
back.  As soon as the horse was stopped, I jumped off as safely as I could
go quickly and then grabbed another rope.
       I ran over to the animal and showed no hesitation this time as I
roped its legs and pushed it to the ground.
       "Good, that's another point, back to me, fast as you can!"
       I ran back to the horse, and tried to jump back up into the saddle.
I came up short, but Boyd was there to pull me up.  Then, before I could
even get my bearings, he had started off towards the next calf, and I had
to clutch him again to hold on.
       It took me two more calves before I was able to rope it successfully
in my first throw.  After that, I had him do it with me two more times,
just to make sure I had it down.
       Later on, after we had dressed and dropped the Patches back off in
the stables, Boyd was again in a congratulatory mood as he walked me back
towards the mansion.  When he told me he was going to hit the showers
again, I followed him into the outdoor bathroom.
       But this time, as he undressed and went into his normal stall, when
I entered my own stall with the peephole in the wood, I didn't even stop to
look at him.  Instead, I washed as quickly as I could and got dressed in
clean clothes, leaving the facility before he was even out of the shower.
I had too much on my mind to think about the fact that I was missing seeing
that stud wash himself naked.  Instead, I trotted towards the mansion.
       As soon as I had cleared the door, I jogged through the mansion's
corridors until I made it back into the Great Room.  I pretended to be
nonchalantly going up to the third floor, but really I was studying
everything on the ground floor.  A single vampire guard was looking over
the cage in the room, which was now occupied.  The naked slave inside, a
handsome white guy with a nice physique, was sitting in the cell, but
seemed to be studying everything in the room with a lot more subtle
interest than any other slave had previously.  I wondered if he had gotten
my note already.  As I walked past, he made eye contact with me.  I tried
to communicate with my face that I was the one who had left him the weapon.
He said nothing, but there was the slightest bit of some look that made me
think he knew; think that he was thankful.
       I walked upstairs and noisily went through the third floor door,
shutting it behind me.  After a few moments, I silently opened the door
again, walked through it, and crouched down on the ground where I knew I
couldn't be seen, looking down on the first floor below from in between
banister poles.
       I figured the vampire girl could not have yet served her daily guard
posting, so it was only a matter of waiting patiently until she came and
took over.  After waiting through a couple hours and three more vampire
guards, I had to run over to Syd's room to relieve myself before getting
back into position, ready to wait long into the evening, if necessary.
       The child-like female vampire didn't take over the guard post until
eight o' clock.  As soon as she showed up, I could see the slave tense up
and become alert.  Her high pitched voice cheerfully told the guard that he
could leave, and she pulled out a storybook and started to read at the
table, her back to cage, just as she usually sat.
       The slave watched her carefully for a few minutes to make sure she
wouldn't move, and then turned back towards the toilet.  He knew he would
have to do this with as little as noise as possible, and I could tell he
was moving slowly and deliberately.  He lifted the toilet lid, and I could
see my ziplock bag inside.  He opened it and pulled out the key and gun,
leaving the bag empty.  I saw no sign of the note I had left; he must have
already disposed of it.  Yes, this was all going according to plan.
       My heart was pounding a million times a minute as I watched him
creep towards the cell door.  He held the key in his right hand as he
reached through the bars and stuck it in the keyhole on the outside of the
cage.  He turned the key and left it in the lock.  Still no sign of the
vampire girl noticing.
       The man pulled his right hand back in the cage and gripped his
revolver tightly.  With his left hand, he pushed the cage door slowly open.
       My heart jumped out of my stomach when the door made a loud screech
as it opened, clearly in major need of some lube.  The scene below me
suddenly went from suspensefully slow to blisteringly fast all at once.
       The vampire girl spun her head around to face the cell.  "What?" she
asked, confused at what she was witnessing.
       At the same time, the slave moved with a sudden adrenaline-level
speed, knocking the gate open and jumping out of the cage while raising the
gun, pointing in the direction of her face a few yards away.  "Don't move!"
he yelled, his voice clear and strong.
       She seemed not to process what he was saying, and darted towards
him, emitting a slight laugh.
       I saw the slave's trigger finger flex, and a deafeningly loud,
horrifying blast came out of the gun.  No, no, no, he was just supposed to
take her captive, not hurt her!
       Another blast of smoke and sound came out of the gun, and a second
bullet went flying.  I looked at the woman and realized she wasn't hit.
The two bullets had missed her.
       Was he shooting warning shots?  If that was his plan, didn't he know
the noise would send all guards in the house rushing into the room?  He
would have to act fast now.
       But she took another step towards him, the crazy idiot.  He would
have to grab her and subdue her; he was clearly much, much stronger than
she was.
       Instead, he squeezed the trigger again, this time aiming square for
her chest.  Her body's movement forward was abruptly halted, as blood
soaked the bosom of her chest.
       I shook my head.  No, she was supposed to remain unharmed.  She was
not the villain here.
       He shot her again in the chest, and then raised the gun to her
pained face and shot her twice in the head, the bullets cracking her skull
open.  She fell back to the floor, dead, as he continued to try to fire the
gun even though the chamber was empty.  He threw the gun down.
       I stared at her bleeding, crumpled body, and tears stung my eyes as
I realized I was responsible for that death.  At the same time,
light-headedness hit me.
       The naked slave ran over to her body, and started to search her.  He
removed the jacket she had been wearing, and realizing it was much too
small for him, he tied it around his waist, covering his nudity.  Then he
fished through her dress pockets until he found her keys, and he put those
in her jacket.  He also found a concealed gun in her dress, which he
carefully pulled free of its bloody holster.
       He checked to make sure the new gun was loaded before walking
towards the main doors of the Great Hall, the ones that led outside.  He
carefully opened the doors just a crack and peered out, circumspectly
scanning the darkness for any sign of witnesses.
       There was movement in my peripheral vision, and my eyes darted back
to the dead body on the ground.  Staring a few moments there, I saw nothing
out of the ordinary, and came to the conclusion that my eyes had been
playing tricks on me, a likely symptom of me being as anxious as I was and
faint as I was.
       Just when I started to move my eyes back towards the slave, I saw a
definite leg-twitch on the dead body, and I looked back towards her
nervously.  Could she still be alive?  No, this must have been some post
death reaction happening.
       More twitching occurred, and then the body started to tremble, and I
realized she was, miraculously, still alive.  Though there was no possible
way that could last for long.  I wished the slave had put her out of her
misery.
       I looked back at the man, still looking out that front door,
wondering what he was waiting for.  Did he see a guard out there?
       Again my eyes were drawn back to twitching the body, and even though
I was three stories up, my vision was pretty solid.  Yet, somehow it
appeared to me that the cranial wounds she had suffered were righting
themselves somehow.  I blinked hard, and then looked again.  The body
looked healthier and healthier with every glance.
       She suddenly sat up, scaring me half to death.  She looked around
her until her eyes locked onto the slave.  She opened her mouth, and I saw
her teeth extend into long, sharp fangs.  Once again, I could not believe
what I was seeing.
       She got to her feet noiselessly, and lightly bounced, like a child
ballerina, towards the slave, who still had no idea she was alive.  She had
this look of total amusement on her face.
       It took all of my self-restraint to keep from calling out a warning
to him.  I had to hold my mouth shut just to make sure.
       When she was just a couple feet behind him, she raised up her fist.
She looked at it, and it turned hard and grey.  She reacted to this with a
fun smile, pleased with herself.
       She punched him with a delighted giggle, knocking his body hard into
the solid wood door in front of him.  Shocked, he turned around, took in
his attacker quickly, and then started whipping her with his gun.  She
responded by knocking him in the head with her hard fist until he slumped
on the ground, unconscious at the minimum, and probably dying from severe
head injuries.  How quickly and horribly the tables had turned, I thought
as the woman took back her jacket, keys, and gun from the man.
       Tears started to sting my eyes again.  I had been the one who
promised him that she could be physically overpowered, and yet here she
was, clearly as strong as Syd.  Why had they lied about vampire girls not
having powers?  My mistake had caused this man his life.
       Before I could think anything through, Jericho and four of his
guards came hustling into the room, just as the vampire woman had retrieved
Syd's empty gun and the key I had left for the prisoner.
       "We heard gunshots," Jericho said, surveying the room.  "What
happened?"
       "Your prisoner somehow got a hold of these tasty nuggets," she said,
smiling all cutesy as she held up the gun and the key.  "We had a most
entertaining little tussle."
       Jericho looked down at the naked man with the cracked head on the
ground.  "I'm afraid you've spoiled my supper, Giggles." he said.
       She knelt down and at the body and felt for a pulse.  "Nope, I think
this one still has some kick in him," she said in her perky, sing-song
pitch, affirming he was still alive.  "I'll patch him up better than ever."
       She touched her hands to his cracked head and shut her eyes.  I had
no idea what she could possibly be accomplishing, yet my jaw started to go
slack as I saw his head recover even faster than hers had, bone and skin
reattaching itself at an amazing pace until there was no trace of any wound
except some residual blood.  He coughed, and sat upright, and two of the
guards moved in to hold him down.
       "See?  Good as new and right as rain," Giggles sang.
       "You gonna tell us where you picked up those toys, son?" Jericho
asked him.
       The man looked like he was considering doing so, until he finally
shook his head.
       "You want me to try and make him giggle?" Giggles asked.
       "Nah, what good would that do?  He didn't do any real damage.
Giggles, you're relieved."
       She nodded and left the room, moving with an almost balletic grace.
       Jericho looked down at the slave, leering evilly.  "What's your
name, son?" asked the evil vampire man, whose voice now seemed to carve
straight to the fear center of my brain.
       "Stu."
       "Do you have a talent, Stu?" he asked, playing with the whiskers of
his La Souvarov on his cheek.
       He shrugged.  "They tell me I'm unnaturally strong for my size," he
said.
       "How are you at push-ups?"
       "The best."
       Jericho looked him over.  "Tell me, do you like games?"
       "Isn't that obvious?" he asked.
       Jericho smiled.  "Stu, I want us to play a game.  A little wager,
you might say.  I want to see you do forty consecutive pushups at your own
pace."
       "I can do that," Stu said.
       "But I'll be sitting on you to weigh you down," Jericho said.
       "I should still be able to do it," Stu said.
       At this point, I almost shouted down to guy not to trust any wager
Jericho said, but I knew so far, no one realized I had been hiding
upstairs, and I worried that if they knew I was here, they'd likely pin
Stu's escape on me.  I knew I couldn't do or say anything to prevent this
man from dying, and that impotence hurt so badly.  I wanted to just leave
and not have to sit through another torturous death, but I was worried they
would hear me leave.
       "Well, if you make it, I'll give you your freedom that you so
crave."
       "You're on," said Stu.
       "Now, hold on just a second," Jericho said.  "Normally, I'm a very
fair Governor to all of my slaves.  But you did something most heinous.
You stole two precious items from me, a six-shooter and a key.  As such,
I'll have to inflict two tiny punishments as payment."
       He quickly pulled out a large knife from his pocket with his right
hand, grabbed Stu's fist with his left hand, and sawed the blade all the
way through the limb.  Stu, shocked, started to scream as Jericho threw
aside the hand, blood pouring everywhere.  I shut my eyes, feeling
light-headed as I just started to see Jericho cut off the man's other hand.
The depth of his evilness just had no limits.
       By the time I cleared my head enough to look back, Stu had only just
stopped his shocked screaming.  Jericho looked at all the spilt blood with
sexual craving, his fangs popping out.  "Now that that's settled, let the
games begin.  Get into position."
       Somehow, Stu was able to conquer his pain enough to kneel down on
the ground.  He pushed his bleeding stumps into floor, hollering in pain as
he pushed the raw flesh into the hard wood, trying to get his balance.
       Jericho straddled his back, sitting on him like he was riding a
horse.  "Alright, Stu, lets go."
       Stu very painfully forced himself down towards the ground very
slowly before lifting himself up again, blood spilling out everywhere on
the ground around him.
       "One," Jericho said.
       He took a hard breath, then went down for a second one.
       "Two," Jericho said.
       He went down for a third one.  "Three.  See, Stu?  This is a piece
of cake."
       Jericho took off his black cowboy hat and tossed it aside, then
ripped off his cowboy shirt, until his powerful upper body was completely
naked.
       "Four."
       He kicked off his cowboy boots, pulled off his belt, and yanked off
his jeans, until he was sitting on Stu completely naked.
       "Five."
       Jericho reached down to the floor and soaked his hand in Stu's spilt
blood.  He raised the bloody hand to his mouth and licked the red from his
skin, his fangs out.  At that, his dick turned monstrously hard.
       "Six."
       Jericho moved his hand back to the bloody floor and scooped up
another handful of blood.  He pulled his hand back to his huge dick,
pouring the blood all over the giant tool, the piercing glinting red.  That
act made his sigh in pleasure, even more so when he cupped his dick with
his huge hand and started to stroke the blood into it.  He was so perverse,
to find such pleasure in other's misery.
       "Seven."
       His hand scooped up another round of blood, and I thought he would
use it to jack himself off some more, but instead, his hand moved to Stu's
butt, pouring the blood all over the guy's buttcrack and hole.
       "Eight."
       Jericho dismounted Stu and moved back, between his legs.  As Stu
continued his push-ups, Jericho stuck his face into Stu's crack.  His La
Souvarov nuzzled into the bloody flesh, staining red.  He licked up the
blood in the crack until he came to Stu's butthole.  He plunged his tongue
inside him, getting his blood all over, tickling the hole with his fangs.
       When Jericho pulled out and mounted Stu, he had long lost count of
the pushups, and Stu's face looked dazed and pale from the bloodloss.
       Jericho poked his bloody dickhead into Stu's butthole, all the blood
serving as a sickening lube.  Thankfully, Stu was so out of it, he didn't
even seem to know what was happening.
       Jericho clasped his hands together under the man's stomach,
flattening his hairy chest against Stu's back.  He plunged all the way
inside the guy letting out a pleasurable moan.
       As Jericho started to fuck him, he repeatedly reached down with his
hands in order to scoop blood from the floor and pour it all over Stu's
naked body, which Jericho's tongue would eagerly lap up, licking his fangs.
       After a good ten minutes, Stu finally collapsed, unable to do
anymore pushups, but still not quite dead.
       "Aww, looks like you lose, Stu," Jericho said.  He ripped into his
throat, started gushing down the blood that poured all over, and fucked him
harder and harder.
       Finally I could stand no more, and I pushed the door open as quietly
as possible and left the room.  The horror of it all, of this evil place,
assaulted me as I walked back to Syd's room.  I forced myself not to cry
this time.
       Before I could get to the relative safety of the apartment, I came
upon Parker and Syd walking in the hallway.  Or rather, Parker helping Syd
walk down the hallway, his left arm around his brother, holding him up,
while he carried a bag in his right arm.
       "I told you, I don't need any help," Syd said, slurring his words.
       "You already fell over three times when you tried to walk on your
own," Parker said.
       "Well, you shouldn't be helping me with just one leg," Syd said.
       "Syd, I've helped you to bed hundreds of times since I lost that
leg."
       "Oh, here's my blushing bride!" Syd exclaimed as I came into view
from behind.  "He'll take me to bed."
       "We'll do it together," Parker said, nodding to me and rolling his
eyes.  "Can you help me, Jake?"
       "Sure," I said, taking Syd's other arm.
       "Yer voice sounds all shaky, Jakey," Syd said.
        "Well, at least my voice isn't slurred to the point of total
indecipherability."
       "You upset about something, Jake?" Parker said, in that warm, caring
tone he had.
       I couldn't deny it.  "Yes.  I hatched a scheme that went horribly,
horribly wrong."
       "That's because you didn't involve me," Syd slurred.  "I told you,
yer crap at schemin.'  Shoulda involved me."
       "What went wrong?" Parker asked, concerned.
       As we went into Syd's room and shut the door, I said, "I stashed a
gun and a key to the prison in the Great Hall with instructions for the
prisoner to break out when the girl, Giggles, was on guard, expecting they
would overpower her and take her hostage, escape.  Instead, Giggles turned
out to be like the male vampires, and she cleaned the floor with the
prisoner.  Syd, didn't you tell me that the female vampires were no
stronger than humans?  Why did you lie to me?"
       "I didn't lie," Syd said.  "What I said was true."
       "You never told him about female specials?" Parker asked as we set
Syd on the bed.
       "He never asked," Syd said, pulling off his boots and throwing them
to the ground.
       "Just as there is a rare chance that male vampires are what we call
`specials,' the ones that have some additional ability besides the normal
talents in their Blood," Parker said.  "The same rare chances apply to the
female.  Only, if a female is a special, they get all the normal traits of
a male vampire, plus whatever special power they possess.  Giggles is one
of the rare ones."
       "That information would have saved me a lot of grief, Syd."
       "Same if you had let me in on yer stupid little plan there before ya
did it," he mumbled, ripping off his shirt and tossing it aside.
       "I hate to say it, but Syd is right for once," Parker said.  "This
plan of yours could have easily ended up with you being killed.  Now, it's
only natural that you wanted to do something to help those victims of
Jericho, but let me assure you, there's no way to intervene.  Trust me, it
took me years of plotting to know that for sure.  The only way we can help
those people is to end Jericho's governorship."
       "That might be true, but how can I coexist in the mansion while
people are being tortured and killed every single night?"
       "You just have to shut down yer stupid flaming conscience and get
over it," Syd said, taking his belt off.
       "It's not going to be easy to deal with this emotionally," Parker
said.  "I'll be there for you whenever you need me to talk about how it's
making you feel."
       "That makes one of us," Syd said, pulling his jeans off, leaving him
naked except for his hat, lying on top of his covers.  "Guilt, remorse,
depression.  Those words ain't belong in any sentence that also has Syd
Logan in it."
       "But you need to promise us you won't try to help those people
again," Parker said, clearly very, very concerned for me.  "Next time,
you'll end up getting killed."
       "Alright, I promise," I said, even though I was positive I was not
going to go to Parker for emotional support, not after what I knew about
him.
       Parker handed me the bag he was carrying.  "I brought you dinner
again.  All healthy stuff, just what you like."
       "Oh, thanks," I said.  "Hey, so if Giggles is a special, what is her
unique ability, anyway?"
       He frowned.  "She can heal severe wounds with her touch."  I thought
of Stu the slave and how she had been able to heal his head wound with her
hand.
       "You don't sound too impressed with her," I said to Parker,
questioning his somewhat cynical tone of voice.
       "No, she is quite impressive," he said.  "Her abilities to heal are
astounding.  Her touch can heal a vampire much faster than they are capable
of healing on their own."
       "Any vampire but herself, that is," Syd said, mumbling in a drunk
slur, his eyes shut.  "Her power can't be used on her own wounds.  Ooo, the
bitter irony!"  He laughed drunkenly.
       "Even without her special power, she's just as physically old and
strong as Syd and myself," Parker said.  "Fully capable of healing from her
own wounds."
       "As I witnessed firsthand," I said.  "Why do you sound like you
don't like her then?"
       "Just tell the kid, goddamnit," Syd said.
       "Okay.  When my accident happened, Giggles was instrumental in my
recovery.  She healed most of my wounds.  If I had been able to find the
leg, I believe she would have been able to reattach it.  But the one wound
she refused to heal for me was the one that caused me to be infertile."  He
flicked invisible again as some internal emotion broke free.
       "I just think she didn't want to hafta touch his nards," Syd joked.
       "On that classy note, I'm leaving," Parker said.  "Jake, I'll see
you tomorrow morning for another riding lesson outside tomorrow morning."
       "Count me out," Syd said.  "Now that Polly has got poor Donnie on a
leash, I ain't got any reason to go down there."
       "We'll train without you," he said.  "I can put myself in Jake's
partner's shoes, if I need to."
        "Parker, you know what?  I know how busy you are with your, um,
chemistry pursuits, so I asked Boyd if he would train me instead of you, to
save you time."
       "I'm really not that busy, Jake, and I actually really enjoy
teaching you.  Also, I care about you a great deal, and worry about your
family, and it's kind of a big deal for me that I know you both are well
prepared for these events, and that you've been trained to do them in a way
that mitigates as much danger to you as possible.  So, you see, I'd rather
still train you."
       I frowned.  "That's really nice, Parker.  But, you see, I'll be
totally honest here, I think Boyd was a little jealous that you we're
training me instead of him."
       "Why would he be jealous?" Parker asked, as if he really didn't
understand the concept of jealousy.
       "Well, because he seems to like me more than just in a friendly way.
And frankly, I return the feelings."
       "Oh, okay," he said, sounding pleased for me.  "Well,
congratulations then, I'm so happy you've found someone who is a far better
person than my brother."
       "Hey, I can still hear you," said Syd drunkenly from the bed.
       "I know you can," he said.  "Listen, Jake, I'm happy for you and
Boyd, but I want to urge you not to put your personal romantic feelings
first.  That can lead to troubles in your rodeo ideals.  I still think it's
best to train with me as well as Boyd, so you at least are assured some
lessons where you won't have any reason to be distracted."
       "While I agree with your advice, Parker," I said.  "I'm someone who
has really excellent self- control, and I'm not going to ever put anything
personal over the safety of my loved ones.  Boyd knows this, and is just as
capable of training me as anyone, and his methods have always stressed my
safety, let me assure you."
       He looked down at the floor.  "Well, if that's how you feel, then I
agree," he said, though I could tell he still had doubts.  "At least I can
still count on you to hit a workout with me tomorrow, right?"
       "Um, sorry, I'm much to busy for a workout tomorrow.  Another time,
perhaps."
       He smiled pleasantly at me.  "Alright, just let me know when, Jake.
I'm totally flexible, and would love to get to see you whenever you have
time."
       After Parker had left that evening and I had finished eating dinner,
I asked, "Syd, can I have back the items you confiscated from me back in
Tahoe now?"
       "I'm sleepin' here," he slurred, his face in his pillow.
       "No, you're obviously not."
       "I would be if ya stopped chatting my ear off, Jakey.  And no, If I
give ya back yer phone, yer just gonna blab to your family the truth."
       "Oh, right, I'm totally going to ring my family up and tell them
I've been kidnapped by honky- tonk vampires.  I have more sense than that,
Syd."
       "Apparently not, since ya felt the need to have a heart to heart
with Parker, even when it sure as hell wasn't the sensible thing to do.  I
ain't gonna trust ya, anymore.  Not after that."
       "How can I convince you to trust me again?"
       "You can climb in my bed right here and let me top ya.  That's all
that's gonna put you in my good graces.  Ya let me fuck yer ass all night,
and I swear, tomorrow you can spend all day on the phone for all I care."
       "No way, Syd."
       "Then you can kiss your phone calls goodbye."
       "And what about what Della said?  About not having them get
suspicious enough to try and find me?"
       "I've been texting them on your phone every day, telling them you'll
be too busy to talk live for a while."
       "You've been texting my family, pretending you're me?  Oh great, I
can't even imagine the damage I'll have to undo with them.  I'll have to
explain why my grammar and spelling skills seem to suddenly revert to a
fifth grade level, and why my choice of words just got a whole lot more
colorful."
       "And you may have to explain why you suddenly seem so goddamn
interesting instead of the normal bore you always are."
       "I'm supposed to be at an internship, remember?  I hope you've been
communicating about that part."
       "I may have said a word or two about it, in between all the many
parts where yer so goddamn impressed with how all the ladies in Montana are
begging me to warm their cold winter beds.  Now shuttup and let me sleep."
       "I hate you Syd."
       "Pleasant dreams to you too, sweetheart."
       Syd fell into a deep drunk sleep, and I took a bath before climbing
onto the settee for the night after saying my prayers.  With images of
Jericho's kills threatening to haunt my dreams once again, I drifted off to
sleep vowing that I would stand and bear witness to every one of Jericho's
murders.  Because if I didn't, no one would know the horrible atrocities
committed on those poor folks.  And if no one knew, it seemed almost like
they never happened.