An Informed Decision by Christina "I'll have a dry martini-- with olive, and mix something fruity for this one," Ash Redfern drawled as he jerked his thumb in the direction of the shadowy figure behind him. He lounged against the bar at Blood Lotus, the newest hotspot off the Vegas strip, a sinister puddle of red light dramatically silhouetting his lanky frame. James Rasmussen favored his cousin with a scowl before amending the order. "Just a beer, thanks." "Oh, how common," Ash sneered, his teeth glinting. "Not that I would have expected anything else, that is." "I would say 'bite me,' but that'd be a tad cliché too, right?" As the barkeep slid their drinks towards them, Ash tossed a few wadded bills his way. Fifties, no doubt. Good to keep the help in line. "Precisely," Ash answered, shooting him a significant glance. "Although I might see how such a thing could be considered a delicacy." James flushed as Ash licked his lips, arching an eyebrow. Ash wore supple leather pants and a simple black tank top, allowing the light to play along his subtly muscled arms and the planes of his face. It created a startling pattern of hollow shadows. He knew exactly how he looked, and thoroughly enjoyed James's discomfort as he slowly passed his finger along the rim of his glass. The place was all hollow eyes and glimmering strobe, undulating bodies in magnificent costumes, all as colorful as shimmering fish. Women in four-inch heels and little else danced on high platforms, silver glitter raining from their hair upon the revelers below. The music was harsh and electronic-- the bass shot through James like a hail of bullets. He sipped his beer, knowing that he stood out in his jeans and pressed shirt. "What exactly did you say this meeting was all about?" James asked impatiently, eyeing the impressive array of bottles behind the bar. Anything to distract him from the thought of Ash's elegant fingers, or from biting, for that matter. He hadn't fed in at least two nights, and with so much blood pumping beneath exposed, supple skin, his teeth were aching. He had hoped that Ash had summoned him to talk about his recent request to be allowed to leave the city. He hated the glitz of the Strip, the smarmy film that covered every surface, every fake smile. Something told him that Ash had other things on his mind. "I need a reason to see my family?" Ash smirked as he eyed a thin boy with razorblade hips and shiny silver piercings across the bar. "I'm not your concern, Ash, and you know it. You haven't seen me for months. It's barely like we're related at all." Ash swiveled back to face James, his white blond hair falling into his eyes. "Oh, that's exactly my concern, cousin. You live like one of them-- hell, you barely live at all. I thought it's about time you got out a little." "I'll get out just as soon as I'm given permission to," James answered thickly. "Ah, right. Because once you leave you'll be able to have the normal vermin life you always wanted." Ash's eyes flashed at him. "But first, I wanted you to see what you were giving up. Incredibly nightlife, the lap of luxury," he swept his hand around magnanimously, "and all the willing blood you could ever care to drink." "I'll pass," came James's flat reply as the boy with the piercings made his way to Ash's side, his eyelashes dark and full, his eyes searching. Tilting his head back, Ash appraised him in a once-over before answering his cousin. "I don't think you're qualified to make that decision just yet do you? Let's have a little bit of fun before we attend to such-- ah, serious matters." He smirked as he traced a line down the boy's neck with his tongue, never breaking eye contact with James. The boy shivered in anticipation, and James stared, flushing. As Ash's eyes trailed down his body, he felt his skin warm, the air somehow too thick with smoke and sweat. Ash's gaze made him feel like prey, a pretty bauble to be seduced and devoured, each drop savored. The thought both unsettled and aroused him. "Come on. Let's dance." Ash caught his wrist, and James felt himself being pulled forward into the sea of writhing bodies. The air was thick with theatrical smoke, slashed through by the light of the strobe. James began to dance self-consciously, awkwardly. He watched as Ash pulled the boy in for a kiss, sucking on a lower lip that came away red with the sheen of blood. He watched, entranced, the desire in the boy's kohl-smeared sloe eyes as he smirked adoringly back at Ash. It was a desire that mirrored his own. Forcing himself to turn away, James found himself lost in the crowd, mesmerized by dancers with salt-slicked bodies and looks of ecstasy on their faces, their hands thrown up to the sky. It was overwhelming, the lust of the crowd, the sensuous warmth that wound through him like a shimmering ribbon. He felt himself pulled backwards by the hips as Ash forced him into a rhythm. Pressed between the boy and the soft, taut body that was Ash, the three began to move in synch to the low throb of the bass. White hair grazed his cheek and the nameless boy's thin fingers began to unwork the buttons of his shirt. He could smell Ash's skin, musky with the tang of sweat and old leather, a slight whiff of faded cologne. Vetiver and civet, animalistic. There were lips at his neck, long fingers pressed to his sides, and he tilted his head back, mouth open, eyes closed. This is intoxicating, he thought, as the cool hands swept his skin. They danced in a haze, in a warm, slippery grind until the last song ended and a cool air parted their bodies. James felt Ash steer him through a back door and into an alleyway thick with cigarette ash. He felt his back against the rough brick, strong hands cupping his ass. Ash's tongue in his mouth, the lingering taste of gin. He kissed him back, hungrily, ferally. Ash's knee parted his legs, and as his lithe body pressed into his groin, James felt himself swell, moaning softly into his mouth. "You see, cousin," Ash said, his mouth moving down his neck, nipping almost hard enough to break skin, "there is so much to experience if you only allow yourself to taste." He kissed him again, deeply, and James tasted to copper tang of blood. Ash's blood, rich with power. And he saw himself through Ash's eyes-- thin, pale, shockingly naïve, but beautiful still. Ash's voice dropped to a whisper, James could feel his breath cool at his throat. "The council has ruled that you will be allowed to leave provided you bring no undue attention to yourself. Hunter approved the ruling. You've got your walking papers, James. I just wanted you to know what you'd be missing." They locked eyes, and James saw some urgency there, something unsaid, some hidden message that his groggy brain could not decipher. With one last brutal kiss, Ash was gone, leaving James dazed and alone. He slid down the wall helplessly, his brain cloudy as he struggled to understand Ash's parting words. He had gotten what he wanted-- a brand new life ahead, and yet so much of the old was new as well, so suddenly. He picked himself up and started to walk north, towards his hotel. Two blocks from his hotel, the memory of Ash's lips still nagged at his mind, his skin prickled with unexpressed need. He hailed a cab. Twenty minutes later, he reached his destination, an expansive lobby much more expensive than his own. Gilded chandeliers hung heavy with crystal, the rug a deep, sanguine red. He walked towards the front desk, where he was regarded with lynx-like amber eyes. "Ash Redfern's suite, please." His voice was gruffer than he expected, strange to his own ears. "And you are--?" the man at the desk asked impatiently. "It's okay, Thomas," a voice called. James whirled. He didn't see anyone at all. At the top of the grand staircase was Ash, leaning over the delicately curving balcony. He was languid, mirror-bright. He tilted his head subtly in one direction, towards his room, and James heard his voice again, this time a message intended for him alone. "Come on up." Shooting a glance at the man behind the desk, James started up the stairs, where Ash waited, lounging elegantly against a marble pillar. His eyes glinted mischievously. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't expect to see you here." "Yeah, well. I guess I just needed to make an informed decision." James felt a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. A delicious smile curved Ash's lips, and he hooked a finger into James's jeans as he opened the door to his suite. "Consider me your guide, then." The end.