Revere & Cross

I had a hard time deciding a category for this story. I was stuck between erotic horror, nonhuman, and gay male. Since the series is named after two male characters and is mostly about their relationship I decided to place this in the Gay Male category. That being said Revere is bisexual so there will be some heterosexual sex between a certain hot cop, so be warned.

Sadly, I am not a grammar expert. So, please forgive me on my grammar skills.

This is rated m for mature. There will be sex, and all characters in these sexual acts are eighteen or older. There will be violence, nudity, adult language, and whatever else is in that little green square.

Thanks for reading,

~WolfFather

*****

Revere waited in the living room. The walls, painted in a pastel shade of blue, adorned the faces of the Sinclair family. As far as Revere could tell it was an average enough household. They had two kids, liked to eat barbecue, and if the framed portrait of Jesus among the photos was taken into consideration, were God fearing folk. They probably had a firearm hidden in the house somewhere too, that was Texas for you.

Revere sipped from a glass of sweet iced tea Mrs. Sinclair had offered him at his arrival. It had not taken long, perhaps five minutes for him to find the marijuana in their daughter's room. What was taking up his time was waiting for Mr. Sinclair to come back from the ATM with his payment. He had a cash only policy, some forgot this little tidbit, or didn't believe in his services and refused to pay if no drugs were found. The two were both equally annoying. This was his last stop however, and he was not feeling remotely caring this evening to think about which category the Sinclair's fell under.

He crunched on an ice cube absentmindedly as he watched the news. He couldn't hear the television over the yelling in the kitchen, not that he really needed to. It was the same shit that the media had been shoveling out for the past month. The Human Supremacy Society protesting at the Temple of Eternal Life. A few religious groups had recently joined among them, feeling threatened, and rightly so. The temple promised exactly what their name suggested and unlike most they could prove it.

A loud crash from the kitchen made Revere wince, Mrs. Sinclair's yelling growing ever higher. A sympathetic smile spread across his face for the youth who was receiving the woman's wrath.

He raised his glass to the savior on the wall. "You smoked some cannabis in your time didn't you J.C.?" He finished off his glass and nodded. "Yeah, bet ya did."

He smelled Mr. Sinclair's aftershave before the man appeared out of the hall, openly staring, oblivious his guest stared right back from the corner of his eye. Revere learned from an early age that humans thought he was ignoring them or being rude if he didn't turn his head directly at them, even though he could see them just fine.

He patiently waited for his host to address him, acting interested in the television.

"Mr. Wilder," Revere faced the man, unable to mask his grimace at being addressed as 'Mr. Wilder'. "I have your payment."

Crashing possibly of breaking plateware, with shouts in between each crash erupted from the kitchen. "Grounded for six months- no good hipster friends-unbelievable-grounded forever!"

Mr. Sinclair rubbed his balding head. "She is not usually like this. She's a good girl, I promise you."

Revere cocked an eyebrow, handing the empty glass over in exchange for the bills. "She makes good tea at least."

Mr. Sinclair blinked his blue watery eyes in confusion.

Revere made his way to the front door. The warm breeze licked his skin as he closed it behind him. He half expected the man to take offense at the jab towards his wife and follow him out, it wouldn't be the first time. He sighed in slight agitation as he heard the snap of the door being locked.

"Don't worry pal, I'm not barging in there anytime soon."

The sun felt great after being in the chilly air-conditioned house. He scented the fresh trimmed lawn and well kept magnolias with his tongue as he strode towards his baby. A Jeep Wrangler Rubicon with a Crush clear coat.

A boy wearing an Astros baseball hat gawked at him from the neighbors house, tripping over his skateboard.

"Look Dad, it's an Abomination!"

"Jimmy," the dad scolded from the porch.

"What? What I say?"

"They don't like to be called that."

Jimmy frowned at his father. "You call them that."

The man blushed glancing in Revere's direction. "Not in front of them," he hissed.

Revere smiled slightly, opening his car door.

The boy turned at the sound and raised his voice. "Hey dude, you can drive?"

"Jimmy!"

Revere tilted his head toward the boy ignoring the father all together. "No kid, I just like to sit in it. Ya know, for fun."

Unexpectedly the boy laughed, and he couldn't help but chuckle with him as he got in and started the ignition.

"That guy's cool," Jimmy said as he went back to his skateboard. "You see his tongue when he was walkin'?"

"Wait until your Mom gets home, we're going to have a long discussion about this."

"So cool, like a snake."

Revere pulled out of the driveway and stuck his tongue out at Jimmy, who tripped on his skateboard for the second time. It was a good pay day, and to celebrate he did what he always did on good days. He went to get some ice cream.

-

Frank's Frozen Custard was small and hidden behind a AMC movie theater, and it was packed. Voted best ice cream in Houston for three years now. Even with the good press most took one look at it and drove off. The shop needed a fresh coat of paint, the walls peeled the white layer like a burnt tourist. Only the red sign on top was regularly maintained. The shop had two windows, one was always open for the public and it's twin always shut.

Revere parked and waited for the signal.

A minute or two later, an outline of a tall figure in a top hat appeared through the unwashed window. Revere got out, passing the long centipede of impatient human bodies. He felt the line buzz in agitation. The regulars ignored him, some even waved.

Sam, a small sunflower of a girl in high school, manned the window tonight. Her face brightened when she noticed him. She swept a few loose strands of blond hair out of her face, cheeks growing light pink.

"Hey Rev, the usual?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Hey girl, what the fuck is this shit?" Revere glared at the man next to him without moving his head, he was a fat man that resembled a pig. "This freak's cutting."

Sam glanced apologetically at Revere, and quickly to the top hatted figure beside her. A bony black hand patted her on the shoulder and Sam relaxed. "No sir, he isn't. He's at the other window. Now, what would you like to order?"

The man scowled and pointed at the dust covered glass. "That window ain't even in use."

"Sir, what-would-you-like-this-evening?" Sam asked slowly like she would for a person hard of hearing.

"I-I don't know yet, give me a second." The people near enough to hear moaned.

The window screeched open. Sunken eyes the color of blood oranges examined him below the top hat. Frank wore a different hat each day of the week. Today he wore the purple silk one that had a peacock feather on the side. A few people tried to get a glance at the mysterious owner but human eyesight was crap to say the least.

"Wilder." Frank's long fingers covered in rings held out a cone with three scoops, each one a different flavor. Cookie dough, Brownie batter, and Peanut butter. It was finished off with hot fudge and caramel with two chocolate cookies on top. It was a thing of beauty, truly.

Revere took the cone and pushed a small sealed black bag towards the tall man. "Frank."

The old man's sharp teeth bared in glee as he examined the contents. "Good lord, you've been busy son." Frank's cajon accent thickened when he got excited.

"Yes, sir."

Frank's pupils tightened into vertical slits as he narrowed his eyes at the young man. "You still solo? You know how I feel bout you working alone. You should reach out, lord knows you're better than any ol' mutt around."

"Night Frankie, see ya next week."

"Next week? Who you foolin', Revie? You'll be here tomorrow." Frank smirked and closed the window with a hard screechy snap.

Revere ate one of the cookies off the top and waved to Sam. "Later sweetheart."

"See ya Cookie Monster."

The woman next at the window, attached to a girl with pigtails, admired Wilder's treat as he walked back to the parking lot. "What was that thing?"

"Someone who needs to eat a salad," Sam said loud enough so he could hear. "You're going to get fat, Wilder!"

He held up a rude hand gesture over his shoulder. Sam just laughed.

"No I meant-"

"It's the Rev Special you want one?"

The girl held up two small fingers. "We want two."

The woman chuckled. "One's fine, we can split it."

Revere smiled, content, at peace with the world. He watched three boys play pickle in a patch of grass near the parking lot as he ate.

He understood children, adults were filled with complexities and hatred for his kind. Children were not yet sunken into the opinions of their parents. Never gave him that familiar cold leveled look. Often than not they were just curious.

One of the kids overthrew the ball, passing his companion's head. Without missing a beat Revere took a step, caught it bare handed, and tossed it back.

The boy snagged it with a smile. "Wow, nice catch! Wanna play?"

"Shut up, Will." The boy across from him spat, clearly offended that Revere joined their game."He's a Motherkiller."

"A what?"

The third boy, now safe, rolled his eyes."An Abomination, stupid."

Will dropped the ball like it burnt him.

-

"Humans for the World have just arrived at the Temple of Eternal Life."

The office was dark, only the laptop sitting on the desk illuminated the space. A lighthouse in the night. Bryan stared at the glow, afraid to look into the darkness in front of him. In the depths there was a predator. A shark that circled him, drawn by the life flowing in his veins. The only difference was that Ira Cross was more frightening than any shark.

A warm sickly fluid seeped into his sleeve, pooling at the bottom of his cuff. The blood dripped on his hand and smearing on the keys as he typed: The remains of a gift that he'd have to cover up with a wrist watch in the morning. He did not dare clean the keys or change his dress shirt for the spare he had in his desk drawer. It was disrespectful and the predator's gifts were sparse things.

"At this rate the temple will fall within the month Master," Bryan informed, his voice a little hoarse. He glanced away from the screen but the ancient was not in the opposite chair. "Master?"

Bryan jumped as a pale hand grasped his left shoulder, a low chuckle resonated like thunder close to his ear.

"Good," the hand trailed up his neck, Bryan involuntarily leaned into the creature's touch. "Good my pet. Tomorrow our little Dorreta will be on the news, and then the trap will be set."

Pain laced his neck as his master kissed him.

"Ouch," Bryan gasped. Dread creeped into his stomach and made a home there as the air thickened and grew frighteningly still from his outburst."My apologies, I-"

"Silence." Bryan heard his master's teeth snap together in agitation. The pale hand picked up a small glass vial from the desk filled with black crystals. "Take another hit my pet."

Bryan shuddered. He didn't like Black Out, hated it really, but he loved Ira. The drug was as much for the Vampire's pleasure as his own. He grabbed the vial from his master's fingers carefully, placing a small black jewel under his tongue. He scowled as he felt the drug instantly crash into his veins like sheets of ice in a river. His heart beat faster, his body spasmed as he broke out in a cold sweat.

He faintly registered Ira's hands and tongue tracing his jugular. A wave of terror erupted through him as Ira's canines nipped at his neck, he lifted his arms to shove the beast away from him but his hands were numb. He sobbed lightly as he realized that this is what an antelope must feel like as they struggle against a lion's jaws.

Cross softly crooned encouragements, telling him it would all be over soon. Bryan felt his Master's teeth puncture his neck. For a moment he felt Ira invade his mind, their hearts joining in rhythm.

Then his master started to feed. Pure ecstasy washed over him like a warm bath with every pulse. Bryan moaned and arched his back into his master's mouth, not remembering why he was afraid in the first place. A bite from Ira was better than anything his wife gave him in the bedroom. With every pull, it felt like he was doing the same to his cock, sucking it hard and long.

"Y-yes, Master." Bryan whined as his eyes rolled back, his body sagging in the desk chair as the drug hit its limit.

-

Ira sighed as he released his hold on his unconscious servant. The pleasure he got from his humans was as short as their lifespans. He had enough employees that he could reach a slight tingle, but it wasn't enough... not nearly enough. The number of his flock was dwindling, and with each century his capacity to feel satisfied was getting harder to reach. Just in the last decade he decided he'd get on the Black Out wagon, but even that marvelous drug had it's limits. He didn't know when he'd fallen so low to feed from the pathetic man that lay before him. He felt disgusted with himself, but he would have his dignity back sooner then later.

Cross turned and gazed out at his city. His territory, not Rafael Rateliff's. That blood bursting tick and his spawn had to go. He would not have to lift a finger personally. Tomorrow the media would be buzzing about how the Temple's members were being drugged into submission, that they were Black Out addicts. The community would do the rest, and he would be the only Master Vampire in Houston once more.

-

Detective Dorreta Alton paced outside the Temple of Eternal Life waiting for the drug search to wind down.

The media had parked across the street like vultures. The protesters were more energized with their presence. One spit on a member of the temple as they walked by, no doubt wanting to get on television. She scowled at the scavengers as she took a drag from her Blu e-cig.

"Don't these assholes have jobs?"

"Alton, I think this is their job," Lieutenant Anthony Axworthy moaned leaning against his car. "What's taking them so damn long?"

She shrugged. "Big building."

"I need a burger."

Dorreta shook her head. "You're thinking of burgers at a time like this?"

"That and a milkshake to go with it, it's hot out."

'Of course you are, you're a man,' she thought. 'That's what all men think about. Food and fucking.'

Dorreta ran her fingers through her sweat soaked hair. Axworthy was right about the heat, she felt her thin figure cooking in her clothes. She pulled her brown locks in a loose pony sighing as the breeze cooled the back of her neck.

"Heads up," Axworthy stood up straight, adjusting his brown suit.

She turned her head. Sergeant Kevin West, head of the squad, followed behind by the K-9 unit, stepped out of the stark white building. The odd thing about the temple was that it had no windows, it looked in Alton's opinion like a sand castle.

West's smooth head shined in the sun as he strode towards her.

"So?" she asked.

"So nothing."

Anthony and Dorreta exchanged a surprised look.

"What?"Dorreta asked.

West sighed with a frown."There isn't narcotics in that building Alton. Not that the canines can detect anyway. You know how it is."

Yes she did. Even the freshest Vampire could pull off glamour, mess with the senses of their prey or their pursuer.

"But we did it in the day," Axworthy whined. "They should be dead to the world."

Dorreta shook her head. "No, the owner Rateliff is a Master. Masters can live through their servants, keep an eye on things. He knew we were here the moment one of his flock spotted us."

"We had six mutts in there. At least one should have broken through. No Fanger is that powerful."

"He's called a master for a reason Ax," West grumbled. "The drug is tricky to detect as it is. We hit a brick wall."

They stared at each other in silence for a while, Alton fuming. She knew in the back of her head it wasn't just her emotions she felt, Ira Cross was there with her.

"Wait," Anthony clapped his hands causing West and Alton to raise their eyebrows. "What about Abominations, aren't they immune?"

West rolled his eyes. "Astrathrope-" West reminded Anthony not unkindly, "-with heightened sense of smell are quite rare. And even if there was one in the area, most keep themselves hidden from the public eye."

Dorreta frowned. Of all the paranormal inhabitants she dealt with on a daily basis Astrathrope were the only species she had an irrational fear of.

The first outbreak was in the late sixties. Black spores fell like snow from the sky, infecting millions. Men were unaffected, fifteen percent of the female population however became pregnant. Back then they called it the Virgin Mary Sickness. It wasn't called the Satan's Kiss or the Motherkiller until nine months later, when people witnessed what crawled out of the women's stomachs. Abominations, all uniquely bizarre, all killers from birth.

The second outbreak happened twenty five years ago, killing ten percent of the world's female population. Dorreta had nightmares of it happening to her, of being kissed by that warm black snow. That's what witnesses say about it, that it's warm like a hot shower.

The worst thing was that the women love their parasite, love their unborn spawn like a nun loves the Lord. Dorreta remembered it happening to her sister, Anne, when she was five. She remembered she was five because her sister's funeral was on her birthday.

Dorreta was told later in life that while it ripped Anne apart she laughed with joy. She was also told that their father bashed the creature against the hospital wall.

"Yeah well lucky for you my neighbor hired one to search their daughter's room for weed."Anthony smiled with pride, happy that he knew something for a change. He was fresh and green as a bar of Irish Spring soap. Still holding old superstitions as fact, wearing a crucifix around his neck for protection. It didn't matter, as long as it was silver. Silver is lethal to the lowest Gnome from the fierce Lycanthrope and everything in between. It's the reason silver tipped bullets are standard issue.

"Really?" West asked his eyes widening. "Isn't that something, he find anything?"

Anthony scratched his head glancing down at his shoes. "The Sinclair's played dumb, acting like they didn't know what I was talking about." He looked back up at them smiling sheepishly. "But the daughter told me all about it. Guy found her stash of pot in like... two seconds and got her grounded for a month."

Dorreta crossed her arms. "How do you know they hired an Astrathrope? It could have been one of those private K-9 detection services."

"No. no, my Jimmy saw the Motherkiller leave their house."

"How's he doing by the way?" West asked.

"Great, got a homer last night." He giggled. "I might have a pro athlete on my hands! Anyway, Jim was insistent he saw him taste the air."

"Taste the air?" West asked enthused.

Ax nodded, his grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, like a snake."

Dorreta felt Ira Cross's will wash over her, and didn't know she was speaking until she uttered the last syllable. "We should contact this man, bring him here."

Kevin nodded,"Yeah, good idea."

"I'll get his information from Sinclair," Axworthy took his cell out of his pocket. "Hold on." He put the phone to his ear walking to a nearby tree for some privacy.