Warning: Lime and mild violence.

 

Part Three:

Diabolical Decisions:

 

“…no one knows exactly why the fights began at Port Victoria earlier this evening. Police and Federal Investigators are patrolling the scenes at this time and neither heads of the departments have spoken to the Press about the incident. One can only speculate that it was yet another act of senseless terrorism…”

 

The electronic screen went blank with an emphatic click from the remote control. In the large, spacious and quite lavish room, the burly man sat behind the desk like a statue carved out of bronze. His dark eyes were hidden behind matching sunglasses – which was understandable considering how extremely well-lit the room was. Large hands covered in silk white kid-gloves came together to form a tent before his face. He was in his late forties and yet his mustache and beard were as white as snow – quite a sharp contrast to his raven shoulder-length locks. Standing behind him with backs to a landscape window, were two huge men dressed in black robes from head to toe. Their shaved heads shone like domes beneath a brilliant sun as they stared unseeingly at the quivering man kneeling before them.

 

Besides the large desk, which was made out of solid oak that had been imported (and made to his specifications) from Champagne Ardennes, there was the stupendous presence of an exact replica of the fireplace which could be found in the Palace of Versailles in France. It was a huge thing that seemed to take up an entire section of the salon. Carved in sarrocanolin marble, it was clearly the Boss’s favorite piece of architecture and many a day had been spent showing it off to important guests and clients.

 

However, the Boss was not very happy at the moment. A plan had been foiled and now he had only this quivering mass of an excuse for a human at his feet groveling for forgiveness. He sighed and rubbed a gloved finger across his forehead in exasperation. This would teach him to rely on Inners for help.

 

“This was a rather important job, Sykes,” he began coolly. His voice boomed around the room like a rumbling echo, even though he wasn’t even speaking at his loudest. But the danger and ice beneath that tone was not lost on Sykes, who prostrated even lower in deepest apology.

 

“I know, sir. I know it well, sir,” he whimpered. His voice was muffled as his face was almost plastered against the plush red carpet.

 

However, a resounding slam upon the desk had everyone in the room; yes even the once still figures of his bodyguards, starting in surprise. A thunderous scowl was upon the Boss’s face and he was literally trembling in his fury.

 

“You know! You know?! You know that you’ve made me lose over ten million dollars in the space of an hour?! They told me that you were the best at what you do and I fucking believed them! And now you come sniveling to me with only one truck that doesn’t even contain the right things!!”

 

For emphasis, he reached into the silver trolley that had been wheeled in earlier and pulled out a handful of imitation pearl necklaces and silver lame cloth.

 

“This!! Is this my crate of opium?! Is this my crate of angel dust, you lousy fuck?!!”

 

Sykes was beginning to wish that he could sink even lower into the carpet. He had to save his hide and there was no other way to do this than to…

 

“It’s his fault, sir!” he suddenly yelled in desperation as he lifted his tearful gaze to the angry man. “It’s all his fault! I hadn’t given the signal yet and he went charging and got all the guards to notice us! He’s always screwing whatever missions I get him involved in, sir! But they told me that I could rely on him…”

 

“Shut the fuck up! Trying to put the blame on someone else now, are you?! You miserable piece of….SHIT!!”

 

No one had seen him move. For a man this big, the Boss was incredibly light on his feet and in mere seconds, he had planted a heavy black boot upon Sykes’s head, while shoving a .22 rifle into his nose. Sykes’s eyes widened in fear, his mouth a silent O, even as it began to fill with blood from the pressure inflicted upon his skull. His nostrils felt as if they were going to be torn apart and he stared through shimmering depths at the snarling man above him.

 

“Pl…please…” he gurgled helplessly, knowing that death was only seconds away. “His…his…name is Tsume…lives in the…corner of…Mecca and West….Tsume…”

 

The single gunshot exploded with a shower of blood and pieces of flesh soon after. It sprayed upon the Boss’s expensive suit, face and sunglasses. Even his shiny new boots were messed up with the remnants of Sykes. And let’s not even talk about his carpet and the furnishings. Snorting lightly to himself, he pulled out a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face gently, watching idly as his bodyguards moved in quickly to dispose of the body…or what remained of it.

 

“Get me, Blue!” he barked coldly as he marched towards the window. He crossed his hands behind his back and stared out into the city’s nightline. He would have to get rid of all evidence that related directly to his involvement with the illegal shipments tonight. He couldn’t have his name and reputation ruined because of a few useless Inners. He growled and took off his glasses, wincing as he removed the black contact lenses from his eyes. It was becoming a pain to keep wearing them.

 

The sudden smell of sweet jasmine infiltrated his senses and he gave a feral grin in response as he noticed the reflection of the stunning female standing behind him. His eyes now golden, flashed with excitement as he licked his lips and bared his fangs.

 

“I’ve got a new job for you, Blue,” he said thickly. “You will be visiting a little place between Mecca and West…”

 

 

__

 

 

“Ask me anything, Tsume and I’ll do my best to satisfy your curiosity…”

 

Tsume closed his eyes at the invitation – so simple yet so damn…

 

…teasing…

 

…wrong…

 

…sinful…

 

 

He shook his head rapidly, angry at himself for losing his self-control so quickly. For all he knew, Kiba could be a male prostitute - although that excuse did seem a bit far-fetched. Gigolos didn’t usually hang around during the daytime trying to chew people up for lunch. However, it wasn’t uncommon to see young men, desperate for food and shelter, whore themselves like cheap sluts to anyone willing to pay for their services. A quick blow job or a good hard fuck was all they needed to get them through. Tsume had been accosted by such people before, so it wasn’t that strange. He was sure, however, that if Kiba was really one of them, many would pay thousands to be with a man as beautiful as he was. Kiba could easily make over five hundred dollars a night with a face and body like that.

 

Well, you have him here with you, so why don’t you make a move? A voice teased within his head, causing him to growl softly.

 

Bad idea, another warned. You never know what he might do…

 

Yeah, but…it wouldn’t hurt to just find out if he really is one or not…

 

“Tsume?” Kiba called out softly. Tsume all but jumped out of his skin as he felt Kiba’s hands upon his shoulder. He hadn’t even heard Kiba move and needless to say his reaction was swift and almost ruthless. He seized Kiba’s wrist in a death grip and all but slammed him against a wall. However, Kiba’s soft cry of surprise was swallowed by Tsume’s tongue thrusting deep and hungrily into his mouth. Kiba’s eyes widened in shock at the sensation of the hot length and he arched in response to Tsume’s thigh pushing his apart to press him even tighter against the wall.

 

Instincts rose deep within him.

 

To fight back.

 

To rip. Tear. Bite. Crush and destroy his opponent.

 

To taste. To feel. Melt…melting…into a hot puddle of molten heat.

 

Tsume ground his hips roughly and Kiba’s lashes fluttered closed as his once limp hand soon found Tsume’s shoulder to hold onto tightly. Tsume’s hands slid up Kiba’s waist and beneath the shirt to feel hard but smooth skin – precious, precious skin. Someone groaned as both tongues finally met in a wanton dance of lust. Heartbeats pounded fiercely. Minds becoming hazy images of want, desire and…

 

“Fuck…fuck…Jesus fucking Christ,” Tsume muttered thickly as he pulled away so fast that he almost lost his footing. He didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t help it. Kiba was still against the wall. His shirt almost bunched up to his chest, revealing a well-toned torso. There was the teasing peek of a dusky nipple and Tsume shivered as he staggered away trying desperately to even his harsh breathing. Kiba’s lips were moist and swollen; a small trail of saliva fell to his jaw like a sinful reminder of his succulent taste. The younger man’s face was flushed, his eyes a glazed hue of longing. His thighs were still parted rather seductively and Tsume would have been a fool not to have noticed the bulging tent within Kiba’s shorts. It didn’t help that his own pants were now so tight, he could barely walk. Unfortunately, Tsume knew he would have to control it…now or never.

 

He was disappointed and wasn’t sure why. He should have been happy that Kiba had responded but yet…

 

It means he is one of them, he thought with a groan as he reached for a new t-shirt to slip over his head hurriedly. He’s just a fucking whore…but yet…

 

He stole another look at Kiba, noticing that the other man had now turned his face away as if in shame. For some insane reason, Tsume suddenly felt the need to apologize. He had been the one at fault, if one really wanted to look at it. He had taken Kiba by surprise and he was extremely lucky he hadn’t been hit or something by now.

 

He couldn’t stay here a moment longer.

 

“Will you be gone all night?” Kiba asked flatly, his voice a muffled sound behind the hair that hid his face from view.

 

Tsume turned away and placed a hand upon the doorknob. “I don’t know. Don’t bother waiting up.”

 

And without another word, he stepped out of the apartment and closed the door behind him with a resounding slam.

 

Kiba waited for a few minutes until he was sure that Tsume was out of the building before sliding down the wall and to the floor in exhaustion. His legs had been trembling through it all and it was a miracle he had been able to stand for that long without giving away his inner weakness and distress. He wrapped his arms around his raised knees and buried his face within them with a small whimper of agony.

 

When would he ever learn?

 

He had a feeling he had been hurt like this before, but when? And by whom? How he wished he could remember most of his past. Maybe then, he would finally learn how to be more in control of his turbulent emotions especially when it came to dealing with a man like Tsume.

 

His lips and body still burned from the older man’s touch and as he curled into a ball in the corner of the room, Kiba realized with a faint pang that he wanted – oh, so badly - to feel and taste Tsume…all over again.

 

 

__

 

 

Morning in the city was a far cry for the muffled activities of the night. By seven, most of its inhabitants were up and about, ready to begin a day of commerce and capitalism. Men and women of all ages, sizes and skin tone paraded the streets, with cell phones stuck to their ears and lips moving at a mile a minute. They had deadlines to catch, meetings and conferences to attend, power breakfasts and lunches to be had, asses to be kissed and in some cases, sexual favors to be granted. Yes, this was the Main City for you, but in the ghetto, the Inners had a different morning ritual. For you see, mornings in the Slums were a time for the ‘vampires’ of the night to call it a day.

 

The sight of yellow school buses on its last wheels rolled into the narrow streets to pick up the few kids who dared to show their faces. This was a rare occurrence indeed as most inhabitants in the Slums hardly cared for education. It was a necessary evil and many tried to steer away from it.

 

The streets themselves were shadows of their former selves. Littered with debris from parties held the night before, only a few government workers and an old man or woman could be seen sweeping up the mess as best as they could. The derelicts could be found sleeping on some doorsteps and the owners of the homes did not have the willpower to chase them off for they too were shut within the welcome confines of their havens.

 

Dieter Schuwald, a balding and portly fifty-year old, yawned wearily as he stepped out of the backroom and into the main floor of his bar. He grumbled as he noticed the few men still left in there. At least they were all asleep, he thought with another yawn as he scratched his stomach gently and reached for his prodding stick. It was a steel pole that he used to wake up the late night stragglers who were either too drunk to leave his bar or had no home to go to. The familiar faces he could make out, as he walked carefully over a few sprawled bodies on the floor, and it would be easy to kick their asses out of here.

 

“Hmm?” He blinked and rubbed his eyes carefully, not sure if he was seeing things or not. “Tsume?” He called out in surprise as he saw that it was indeed the young man who was seen as a figure of respect around these parts. Tsume had visited his bar lots of times in the past, but to see him in this state…it was a bit strange to say the least.

 

He was just about to prod the sleeping man, who was cradling an empty bottle of Jack Daniels against his chest, with the pole, when the cool but clear voice stopped him.

 

“Leave the wolf alone.”

 

Dieter started and spun around quickly. He hadn’t even heard the man come in! For standing in his doorway was the tall and rather stately figure of his visitor. The man had long black hair that fell over his shoulders and down his back. There was a black patch over an eye and the exposed was a steady blue that bore down on the bartender. He was dressed in a smart gray business suit and had both hands sunk deep into the pockets of his pants.

 

Wolf? Had this guy just said that Tsume was a… wolf?

 

Dieter might have been shorter and rather on the heavy side, but he was definitely not going to let this city guy talk down to him like this! And besides, Tsume was one of them – an Inner. He wasn’t going to let the Outers come by to take him away. With a growl, he planted himself between the approaching man and Tsume while brandishing his pole like a weapon.

 

“Whoever the fuck you are, you get ready to leave my bar right now! I ain’t taking no….argh!!”

 

He barely knew what hit him as he found himself crashing against the counter with a force that sent several bottles tumbling off the shelves behind him. The pain was blinding and he had only a moment to see his visitor walk over another body to reach for Tsume. Dieter tried to reach for something to at least throw at the looming figure, but he couldn’t feel his arms anymore. He then tried to open his mouth to scream out in warning but something red, hot and thick flooded his vision and with a gurgling sound of despair, he slowly sunk into merciful darkness.

 

Tsume’s lashes stirred for a moment. His brows knit in a light frown and he shifted a little on the chair. He could hear noises…a commotion of some sort and then…the scent.

 

Someone…like me…

 

Kiba? Was Kiba here?!

 

Kiba, who had tasted like sweet cinnamon and hot spice. Kiba, who had made his insides churn with heat and a passion that he had never thought he could experience.

 

“Ki…Kiba…” he muttered thickly as he opened up his eyes slowly. For a moment, nothing seemed to make sense to him, but as his vision became clearer he found himself staring into something endlessly blue and rather hypnotic.

 

“You’re finally awake, my dear beast,” the man greeted with a smile that didn’t quite reach his visible eye.

 

No, Tsume thought quickly as he tried to sit up. Fuck! If only he hadn’t drunk so much the night before, his head wouldn’t be aching like hell right now. He could see clearly now and what he saw, he didn’t like. He tried to get to his feet, but the man was much quicker and was already pointing two very sharp and long fingernails at Tsume’s jugular.

 

“One move, my precious beast and I won’t hesitate to make you bleed to death,” he whispered thickly into Tsume’s ear, causing the silver-haired man to shiver in response. “You will take me to the other one who is with you for my mistress requires his presence.”

 

“Your…your mistress?” Tsume asked with a light frown, wondering if he could break this guy’s neck, if he could will his nerves to work for him. He should have known alcohol and its after effects were not a good thing to experience first thing in the morning. “Who…is…?”

 

“Oy! Dieter! You awake, man?!”

 

Both men turned towards the new voice as they watched the silhouette of a man standing outside the front door. Tsume thought of screaming to create a decoy, but the man’s hand had already slapped a hand over his mouth, forcing Tsume to glare in fury at the power this strange guy had over him.

 

“Oy! Dieter!” Another figure joined and now there were two men. Obviously, the stranger did not like the sudden turn of events and with a fierce tug on Tsume’s arm, he motioned for them to leave through the back door.

 

“Don’t try anything funny either, wolf or I’ll kill you, understand?”

 

Wolf? Who was this guy calling a wolf?! And what did he…they want with Kiba? As they stepped into the back alley, Tsume’s eyes widened as he noticed the waiting black sedan parked serenely beside a pile of garbage. It was so out of place in this dingy hellhole, it was almost ridiculous.

 

“Please step inside,” the man invited with a small bow, almost mocking in his smooth movement. “My mistress waits.”

 

Tsume snarled and got a strange whiff of strong wild orchids, while eyeing the tease of blond wavy hair before stepping into the car. He told himself he was only doing this to find out about these people and what they could want with Kiba.

 

Wolf.

 

“Welcome,” the woman behind the mask greeted serenely. “My precious, beautiful beast…”

 

 

__

 

 

Kiba opened up his eyes wearily, blinking slowly as a combination of sunlight streaking in through the windows and a dull pounding on the door had him wincing in response. He sat up carefully and winced again as his lower back protested the movement. He scratched his head gently, ruffling his already tousled locks as he stared at the door dumbly for a moment.

 

Someone was here. Someone to see Tsume perhaps. What was he to do?

 

The incessant pounding continued and he finally rose to his feet with a soft sigh and a yawn.

 

“Coming, coming,” he muttered quickly, almost stumbling over his sneakers as he tried to walk as fast as he could to open it.

 

“Can I hel…,” he began as he lifted his gaze to stare into smiling blue and quite beautiful eyes. His breath caught and the words he had planned to say remained lodged somewhere in his throat.

 

“Tsume, I presume?” the woman said in a smooth, low voice that dripped with pure sex. She was dressed in a short black coat dress with a red scarf around her neck. Long, knee high boots, over shapely legs and thighs, finished the conservative ensemble and tousled dark blue hair upon her head gave her a boyish but playful air.

 

Kiba was just about to open up his mouth to say that he wasn’t Tsume, when her scent hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened and he felt his neck prickle with awareness. A low growl escaped his throat, eyes narrowing with wariness as he bared his teeth, which in turn caused Blue to smile in response.

 

“What a beautiful creature you are,” she crooned in delight as she raised a gloved hand to caress his cheek gently. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me now, Tsume.”

 

Before Kiba could lunge to attack, he felt something sharp pierce through his neck. The effect of the drug was immediate and he could feel his senses dull into nothing as he slumped into her waiting arms like a rag doll.

 

“You will make a fine meal for my master,” she said with a wide grin as she allowed the two bodyguards to take him away. She closed the door to Tsume’s apartment carefully behind her and followed with a soft hum on her lips.

 

This was one of her easier assignments yet.

 

 

 

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