Vampires of Noctra(3)

by Khan.

"Would you like something to eat before we continue?"

Vasily looked up at him with worshipful eyes. "Whatever you want, Captain."

Donté couldn't help smiling. Vasily was a good boy and very respectful. A week of serving on the Night Stalker and Vasily had no qualms about

turning his back on his past life. Of offering his blood and service to the Noctra vampires.

Donté rose and stepped to the table at the center of the room where a tray of food rested. He didn't partake, but he had to maintain the strength of

his two human lovers. He picked up a thick slice of bread and a small wedge of cheese and returned to the bed. He hand-fed Vasily slowly, with

drugging kisses in between until his sweet supplicant finished the bread and cheese. By then, Vasily's cock was thick and hard, bobbing against

his flat abdomen. Yes, he was revived and appeared more than ready to serve his master once more.

Donté picked up the oil to prepare Vasily's passage. A snarl curled his lip when a knock sounded at the door. Donté glared at the root of his

irritation. Who dared to interrupt? Swift punishment would be exacted for the defiance of his standing orders...unless it was an emergency. He set

down the bottle of oil and rose from the bed.

"Enter," he roared with the force of a fierce gale. After a moment of hesitation, the door slowly opened. It was Jupiter, his first mate, who edged his

way into the cabin. He looked straight at the captain, neither sliding a sidelong glance toward Velvet, nor toward the bed where Vasily, his second

mate, was stretched out.

"Permission to speak, Cap'n."

Donté waved a hand in the air. "What is it? This better be important."

"We've spied someone in the water, sir. The men are about to bring him on board. I thought you'd want to be informed."

All of Donté's crew had preternatural eyesight--one of the dark gifts of human service to the vampires of Noctra. Although the black sloop

skimmed through the ocean in the dead of night, it might as well have been daylight for their sharp eyesight.

"Does he look promising?" Donté dressed quickly, donning a pair of black breeches and then pulling on a white linen shirt.

"Hard to tell, sir. He was a ways out. Margan send two men out to retrieve him. Looks to be a survivor from another downed ship."

Was there any other kind this far out to sea? Most of Donté's crew were survivors from sacrifices to the dangerous, unpredictable seas. Many on

the very verge of drowning or being eaten alive by hungry sharks, or worse. Men who'd been thankful for the captain's beneficence in saving them

from a fate far worse than their untimely death in the surging waters.

There'd been a storm the previous night, which might cause a ship to founder. Donté straightened after pulling on the second black leather thighhigh boot.

"Have Liam see to my men, Jupiter." He glanced over at Velvet. "Leave him for another hour and then release him. In the meantime, take gentle care

of Vasily. I've fed well and he may be light-headed. I don't want him up and around before he's recovered."

Jupiter nodded. "Yes, Cap'n."

Donté returned to the bed, leaned down, and kissed Vasily. "Another night, sweeting." Then he strode out of the cabin, along the passage and

headed to the main deck.

As Donté stepped onto the deck Margan and Onyx hauled a very bedraggled man onto the deck with help from several of the sailors. The stranger

collapsed against the railing, salt water splashing onto the deck. It was hard to tell much about him considering the exhausted state of the man, but

from first glance he certainly looked...intriguing.

The crew made way for the captain to get through. Several of the men held torches, providing a soft glow of light. Donté nudged the half-drowned

man with the point of his well-polished black boot. The eyelids of the young man splayed out on the deck fluttered opened. What stunning blue

eyes, was Donté first thought. Clear and sparkling like the sea, framed with long sooty lashes. Yes, definitely worth an interrupted hour of his time.

The young man staring up at Donté looked shaken, yet alert.

"What's your name, lad?"

Donté saw his pink tongue dart out to wet his lips. "Templeton, sir. Skye Templeton. I was on the merchant ship, Topaz, heading back from the

West Indies when a storm hit."

Skye. Donté liked the sound of the name. He dropped down onto his haunches and studied the young man carefully. He pushed back a thick lock

of wet hair and Skye shuddered.

"Well, you're safe now. We'll get you back to land. What sort of goods were you carrying?"

"Spices, and silks, Captain. All gone down with the ship."