Blood Thirsty

Ch. 11: He's a problem

Anthony tightened his jaw and watched that skinny little rat walk away with his horde of followers. Everyone gave Anthony a second glance, examining him again with fresh eyes and information.

"Let's go back," Anthony said and didn't speak for the entire ride to the castle. Anthony sunk into the leather seat, staring out the window. It shouldn't bother him what trash some guy spews out, especially when he's an ex and he's probably just jealous... Anthony just kicked himself because everything Flynn said was true and Anthony couldn't argue anything at all. He let that brat get the last word.

"Are you alright, your highness?" Bertie piped up, all red and nervous. He had been sitting straight the whole car ride.

"He's a problem," Anthony said. "But..." he smiled, glancing at Bertie and Milan from the rearview mirror. "But I am a problem solver."

"You're not going to kill him, are you?"

Anthony bit down a smile. "Me? That's too easy. It's too tame. There are better ways to be feared, little Bird."

"What are you going to do?"

The car pulled up to the front of the castle. He waited for Milan to open the car door for him. "You'll see," Anthony said and winked at his attendant before getting out. He didn't have an idea yet, but the wheels in Anthony's head were turning.

***

"We don't have a lot of time," Knox told Anthony. The moment he dropped his things off in his room, Anthony was called into Knox's office. Knox's office gave Anthony a glimmer of hope that their future home would be a regurgitated version of Johanna's gaudy palace. There was something worn out about it, a little vintage, and well-used. Slightly industrial and rustic. It was cozy. Anthony sat in a leather seat in front of his enormous desk, glancing at his shelves at books that might just be for show, a baseball in a plastic case, and clocks. Multiple clocks. Glancing behind him, Anthony thought he was losing it, but it was true. Anthony counted ten clocks in this one room alone.

"Is that a pun?"

"What?" Knox asked, furrowing his brow. Knox shrugged off his blazer and started rolling up his sleeves, unveiling his arms. His clothes fit him too well. Loose enough to fit, but tight enough to show off his form.

"Out of time?" Anthony motioned around the room. "You have a million clocks."

"That's dramatic."

"More than one clock might as well be a million. Why do you need so many? Are you usually late or something?"

"No, uh, no," Knox said and let out a little sigh. This obviously derailed him, and it obviously annoyed him. Anthony couldn't help but ask every question that entered his head. Every time he was around Knox, it felt like they were having a first date. They were in a perpetual "get to know you" phase.

Anthony's face warmed, recalling they skipped quite a few steps past the first date between the engagement and... and getting each other off.

"I like clocks," Knox admitted the same way Anthony imagined an exhibitionist admitted their kink to a priest. Flushing a pretty rose quartz, Knox couldn't look at Anthony anymore. "I like... I enjoy taking them apart, figuring out how they work, and then I put them back together."

"For..." Anthony tried helping him along.

"For fun."

Anthony smiled, and just listened to Knox admit, "It's the only time in my day where I don't have to think about anything. I have a clear mind."

"It sounds like a nice hobby," Anthony said, enjoying himself. "I don't know if I have one of those unless... you count thrifting." Anthony caught himself relaxing too much and fixed his posture. Clearing his throat, he asked, "So, what's all of this about? We don't have time for what?"

"My mother has requested a family dinner," Knox said, and Anthony smiled wider, feeling like the genius he most certainly was. "Oh, really? What's so urgent before that?"

"How are you feeling? Your eyes are red."

Anthony examined himself, not something he was used to doing. His throat was strangely dry, but he hadn't thought about it. Red eyes were a clear sign a vampire needed to be fed.

"Oh, I didn't notice." Anthony touched his throat.

"We need to be quick," Knox said, walking around his desk as he shed his blazer.

He went for the buttons on his shirt and all the sirens went off as his panic rattled his nerves. Anthony couldn't explain his full body reaction to the hint of Knox's chest. Just the very top of those buttons coming undone was undoing Anthony's mental state. He had already seen his chest. The man got Anthony off, and yet, Anthony felt scandalized like a Victorian prude who saw a glimpse of an ankle.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" Anthony gawked. All his precious warmth being funneled right to his face.

"I need to feed you," Knox threatened Anthony with a good time and with a voice that deep and velvety Anthony could think of lots of ways to cure his hunger. Someone could be starved for more than just food.

Anthony took a deep breath. "But you said we don't have time, so does that mean we don't have time to do..." Anthony formulated the words, his blush getting worse and worse like a red paint stain just getting moved around, ruining the carpet, the floor, and Anthony's face forever. "If I can avoid it, I'd like to feast again without hurting you."

Knox smiled a little, his eyes downturned as if he wanted to hide it. "Are you saying you can't hold yourself back?" He asked. It was like a magic spell that made all of Anthony's thoughts disappear. It was such a bigger question than a couple words. It was asking if Anthony could keep himself from desiring this man so much, he wouldn't kill him. It was a question if Anthony could focus on the need for food and forget about his carnal desire to gnaw at this man's neck, his chest, and maybe a few other places. Could he hold back his feelings too?

Anthony's head was saying yes, but his thundering heart called him a liar.