~Thursday 12th March 2011~
Arlo didn't like to be fussed over. It happened to piss him off. Royally. And, yet, apparently Emeri saw fit that he was washed down thoroughly by heavy-handed maids before he summoned him that day. No doubt he had found out about Arlo's drug withdrawal, hence why the boy had been checked on multiple times over the past few days.
He wasn't getting any better, and only imagined a steady decline for the next week or so, but the doctor had given him some strange plant to chew on that seemed to dampen the symptoms. He hoped it lasted longer than just his time with Emeri, he might get a good night's sleep if the thought of another hit wasn't clawing at his sanity. He was already worried he wouldn't be able to survive the session with Emeri due to his growing fatigue.
The first time he had been summoned, the only other time, Arlo had gotten aroused almost immediately. This time, however, he didn't feel an ounce of excitement. Although, that could have been due to the many female hands touching his body in that particular moment. The last time he had tried to kick his addiction, he hadn't even been able to get any sort of erection when he was touching himself, hurting himself, directly. He had a terrible feeling that might be the same that day.
"Alright, I think I'm done," Arlo practically growled when one of the hands strayed painfully close to his flaccid cock. He rose from the bath, water droplets cascading from his nude form, all the maids averting their eyes immediately. He assumed they weren't supposed to look at him too much, maybe only Emeri was supposed to have that opportunity. Seemed like a stupid thought, but it was the only explanation Arlo could fathom in the moment.
He stepped out of the bath, wrapping a towel around himself, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. He was irritable, thanks to the stupid withdrawal symptoms, and he didn't like the fact that none of the maids had left. That meant they had another reason to be there with him, another reason to stay and pester him even more.
"Arlo? Are you ready?" The only saving grace was Inya, who glided into the room with a pleasant smile on her lips, "you're pouting, why are you pouting? And why hasn't your hair been washed?"
"I had a shower this morning, I don't need to wash it again, Inya," Arlo sounded like a sullen child being scolded by his mother, "I don't understand why you're all making a big deal over this, Emeri has summoned me once before, it's not like this is the first time."
"Sire requested it, I value my life far too much to question his whim. Get back in the bath, you have to wash your hair," Arlo scowled at the woman, clutching onto the towel around his waist when she attempted to take it from him.
"No," Arlo had yet to outright refuse anything he had been asked since he had been brought to Emeri's home, he hadn't felt the need to, however, his patience had run dry already, "I don't care what he wants, I'm fucking done," Inya looked concerned, but didn't press the issue any further, resting a hand on Arlo's bicep.
"Arlo, Sire's requests are not to be taken lightly. If you're insistent on refusing, I have to inform Taveel," Arlo merely shrugged, staring down at his feet, not bothering to care about the consequences. He heard receding footsteps, and looked up to find himself alone in the bathroom.
Turning on his heel, he wiped the condensation from the mirror, frowning at his appearance. He had dark circles under his eyes, and a dullness to his usually bright irises. He felt unwell. Not just physically but emotionally. He was nervous to see Emeri, wondering why he was so insistent on some unknown ritual for this particular summoning. But he was also angry about the same fact, irritated that he had to just follow every stupid instruction without a word against it.
"This is the problem, Inya?" Arlo looked to his right, not bothering to shift the frown from his face as he stared at the man he assumed was Taveel. He was Emeri's right hand man from what Arlo had heard, and looked as such. With intense dark eyes and a close-cut shave on his dark hair, he didn't exactly look like a pleasant man to be around. Arlo didn't anticipate he was going to receive just a stern talking to.
"Arlo refuses to wash his hair, as Sire requested, I wasn't sure what else to do," Inya looked almost guilty as she dropped her gaze to her feet. So much so that Arlo wanted to tell her not to worry, and that he deserved whatever punishment he had brought upon himself.
"Well, there's a very simple solution to this, Inya," Taveel's lips curved into a sinister smirk as he moved with a swiftness Arlo hadn't even realised was possible. Before Arlo had chance to even draw in a breath, Taveel gripped the back of his neck, dragging him to the edge of the still-full bath and plunging his head into the steaming water. He struggled, but the man caught both of his wrists in his other hand, holding them at an awkward angle behind his back.
Arlo's eyes stung when he opened them, looking into the slightly opaque water, seeing a tendril of red winding its way through it. Suddenly, a wicked idea slinked to the forefront of Arlo's mind, an idea that was high-risk and would likely lead to more injury to himself than the other party. Still, if it worked out right, he would at least have something interesting to look forward to.
When Taveel finally let go of Arlo's head, the boy gasped as his head breached the surface of the water, coughing and spluttering, pushing his sodden hair out of his face. His legs were weak, his whole body feeling heavier than usual as he slumped back against the side of the bath, drawing hefty breaths into his aching lungs.
"Sometimes, Inya, you have to be forceful with Emeri's toys," Taveel muttered, wiping his wet hands with one of the unused towels, "they can be awfully uncooperat-" Taveel was cut off as Arlo lunged at him, barely even getting within one foot of the man before that rough hand was on his throat again. Arlo stilled for a moment, eyes wide, trying to pry Taveel's thick fingers from his neck, choking on the breath he wasn't able to draw in.
Taveel looked as though he was debating something, debating his next move likely, and Arlo took the opportunity to kick out with his foot, only provoking the man further. Arlo's head rang as it made contact with the sink next to him, sending a crack through the porcelain. He parted his lips to groan as his back hit the tiled floor, only to be silenced by Taveel's fist hitting his jaw.
The agony disoriented him, his body pleading with him to tap out, or at least defend himself as he took another direct hit to his face. Yet, he couldn't. He had to allow the physical wounds to pile up if his plan was to play out correctly. No matter the pain it caused, the outcome would be so worth it if he could just hold out.
"And here Emeri thought you were some well-behaved, intelligent little thing," Taveel seethed, resting more of his weight on the knee he had over Arlo's chest, preventing him from drawing in a breath, suffocating the boy, "you're just another whiny little bitch that he'll inevitably dispose of," Taveel rose, towering over Arlo, scowling at his with those charcoal coloured eyes, "although, I hope he lets me help this time, it would be quite amusing to rip you limb from limb," as Taveel turned to leave, Arlo let out a throaty, weak laugh that slowly morphed into short fit of coughing.
"He's going to kill you," Arlo rasped, tasting his own blood on his tongue, feeling it ooze from the cuts Taveel's rings had left on his cheeks and jaw.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Taveel growled, staring down at Arlo like he was nothing more than an impending insect. Arlo sat up slowly, grimacing at the pain still present in his chest, leaning back against the side of the bath.
"You marked me," Arlo motioned his face, unaware of what state Taveel may have left it in, "do you really think he'll let you get away with that?" Taveel was silent, his jaw hardening as he turned on his heel and stalked from the room, but not before Arlo saw the fear flare within the man's face. Arlo had been right, it had been only an assumption but, thankfully, he had been correct. Emeri had already seemed like a possessive personality, Arlo had been almost certain he wouldn't have allowed anyone else to play with his so called 'toys'.
"Oh, Arlo, what have you done?" Inya was tearful as she helped Arlo to his feet, guiding him back into the bedroom, sitting him on the edge of the mattress, "I don't have time for the doctor to see you, Sire requested you be in his room by the end of his meeting. Gosh, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have gone to Taveel. Unwashed hair seems trivial in comparison to the state you're in now," Arlo shook his head weakly, despite the pain it caused, unable to smile at Inya.
"It's not your fault," Arlo allowed Inya to mop up the blood that covered his face, grimacing when he caught sight of his appearance in the mirror above the dresser. His right eye was already beginning to bruise, his bottom lip was swollen and there were multiple cuts over his cheeks. He had a terrible feeling there might have been some fractures in his bone structure, it really wouldn't surprise him since Taveel hit him with such force.
Inya couldn't do much for him, other than sweep his still dripping hair out of his face and give him something for the pain caused by his injuries. He removed the towel that was soiled with the spatters of his blood, shrugging on the black silk robe Inya handed him, running his fingers over the gold thread inlaid into the seams.
"You shouldn't provoke Taveel," Inya commented in a soft voice, stepping behind Arlo to attach the bindings around his wrists, keeping them loose as she always did, "Sire will not be pleased to hear of your conflict."
"He's the one in deep water," Arlo murmured under his breath, following Inya from the room, keeping his head down as he was led down the hallway. He tried to count the steps he was taking, tried every time he was let out of that damn room, but it was like he couldn't think straight when he was walking in those hallways. No doubt some stupid demon thing.
"What the fuck happened to his face?!" Arlo grimaced when a pale hand shot out to grip his jaw, tilting his head to the side for those blazing ice blue eyes to examine, "Emeri is going to have a damn coronary when he sees this!" Rourke hissed, setting his scowl on Inya, likely readying himself to let out a slur of harsh words onto the poor woman.
"Taveel tried to drown me," Arlo spoke through gritted teeth, trying to limit the movement of his jaw, "then did this," Arlo would have gestured to his face had he been allowed the movement, "I tried to stop him, I tried to warn him that Sir wouldn't be pleased, but he was like a whole different person. I thought he was going to kill me," Arlo had learnt how to lie long ago, and thought he was pretty damn convincing. Rourke just happened to be the test run, and Arlo hoped Inya would go along with his tale should she be asked to comment.
"The temper on that fucker," Rourke muttered under his breath, letting go of Arlo's jaw, going quiet for a moment whilst he stared down the hallway, "Inya, you're dismissed, I can take Arlo to Em's room," Rourke didn't give either chance to protest, grasping Arlo's arm firmly as he walked him at a much faster pace down the hallway. The boy tried to look over his shoulder to see where Inya had disappeared to but stumbled on the carpet and didn't want to risk a fall.
"So..." Rourke opened the door to Emeri's bedroom, allowing Arlo to enter in front of him, "what really happened with Taveel?" Arlo peered over his shoulder with a cocked eyebrow, feeling Rourke untie the bindings on his wrists, "I'm not an idiot, Arlo, don't treat me as foolish just because I'm a blonde. Tell me," Arlo still remained silent, rubbing the flesh on his wrists as he turned to face Rourke head-on, "Em isn't going to care, he's going to take one look at your face and probably spend the rest of the day slaughtering babies to keep his anger in check before he gets his hands on Taveel. I don't give a fuck if Em kills him, I can't stand the bastard, but I would like to know why. Taveel doesn't just go off on one, he has to be provoked in some way."
"He really did try to drown me," Arlo admitted with a sigh, looking away at the ajar door that led to the darkened ensuite for a few seconds before returning his gaze to Rourke and continuing, "I may have riled him up a little and taken the beating in a manner I usually wouldn't have, but I didn't do anything else."
"You let him beat the shit out of you to piss Em off on purpose?" Rourke sounded incredulous and Arlo began to regret his choices, dropping his gaze to his bare feet, "that's actually pretty clever," Arlo's eyes snapped up, seeing a small smile having curled the corners of Rourke's mouth, "unbelievably stupid that you'd want to make my brother mad even if the anger wasn't directed at you, but very intelligent nonetheless. You're an interesting character, Arlo."
"Thanks?" Arlo wasn't sure how serious Rourke was with the compliment, or if it was even meant to be one, questioning his own gratitude. Rourke glanced to the left, clicking his tongue with the shake of his head.
"I'll leave you, I don't want to get between my brothers," Rourke lingered in the open doorway, "kneel, Arlo, and, for your sake, I'd suggest behaving. Em doesn't sound like he's in a good mood, the state of your face is only going to worsen it. You best hope whatever he's arguing with Mali over isn't serious enough for him to lose control."
Assuming Rourke had left due to hearing Emeri draw close, Arlo dropped gracefully to his knees at the foot of the man's bed. He fidgeted with the robe he was wearing, ensuring he was covered entirely in the position he had taken, before glancing around the room. He knew he would have time to drop his gaze should he hear the door open, so took the opportunity to collect the details of Emeri's bedroom.
It was very... very him. Bland, with only dark coloured items and very little personal touch. It was immaculate too, which made Arlo wonder whether Emeri had some sort of obsessive-compulsive tendencies when it came to cleanliness or whether the maids just took extra care in his room. Likely the latter, Arlo couldn't imagine Emeri actually cleaning his own room when he had so many staff members to perform the task for him.
"I am not blowing this out of proportion, Emeri!" Arlo's eyes snapped to the floor at his knees when the door flung open, Emeri and the final brother, Mali, stalking in, "you're not seeing the foolishness to your ways, as per fucking usual!" Arlo actually shivered at the venom in Mali's tone, wanting very much to cower behind the bed out of sight, or at least behind Emeri's legs. He hadn't heard someone shout so loudly before, not to make the whole room shake with each word.
"I've made my decision, brother, no amount of yelling is going to change my mind," Emeri spoke in a much quieter voice but, somehow, Arlo found that tone more menacing, "it is a good proposition, and it's not like we have many other options. We've exhausted everything else," Arlo flinched when he felt heat pass by his cheek and saw the bed sheet ablaze next to him, immediately scrambling away from the flames before they could lick at his skin, still too afraid to look up.
"Watch your fucking aim," Emeri growled, shadows pouring from the fingertips of his left hand and snuffing out the flames, receding just as fast as they had grown. Arlo's mouth suddenly felt dry, a new fear settling in his stomach. He hadn't ever seen Emeri do that before, it made him realise how little he knew of the man.
"If you deal with him-"
"Get out, Mali," Emeri's words seemed final, with only silence following them. Arlo counted the seconds, totally a hundred and two before he heard receding footsteps and the door slamming. Abruptly, he was pulled to his feet by two hands on his biceps, and only managed a soft whine as Emeri sunk his fangs into the soft flesh of his throat.
Usually, Arlo found Emeri's bite rather arousing, and enjoyed the subtle burn that seeped into the flesh around the wound, spreading a warmth around his body. However, that day, he didn't take any degree of pleasure in the action. Emeri had bitten him with a viciousness he hadn't displayed prior, and Arlo could feel the jagged tips of those fangs still tearing into his flesh even as the vampire drank from him. It wasn't unbearable, but it wasn't any type of enjoyable either.
"You fight like dogs," Arlo forced out, daring to rest a hand on Emeri's shoulder, if only to steady his shaking legs, "you and your brother, it's quite the scene," Arlo's voice was only small, his eyes glued to the dark fabric of Emeri's suit jacket, his hand keeping a gentle grip on the collar, "I didn't think sibling rivalry could-"
"You talk so fucking much," Arlo bit his tongue, shivering when Emeri lapped at the gash, tightening his hand unconsciously on the soft lapel he was clutching between his fingers.
"S-Sorry," Arlo whispered, his voice wavering, adding swiftly after, "Sir."
"I didn't say it was a bad thing, it has a bizarrely soothing effect," Arlo would have cocked an eyebrow, did he not fear Emeri might have actually torn it off at the action, "and I think I actually prefer when you address me by my first name, which isn't a normality with my..." Emeri trailed off when he lifted his head, his brow knitting into a deep frown, "who the fuck did that to you?" He growled in a low voice, one that seemed almost animalistic with those long fangs peeking over his blood-soaked bottom lip. Arlo dared to reach up with his right hand, swiping his trembling thumb over that lip, collecting the stray drops of blood that sat there, unsure of what to do with himself once the action was complete, lost in the obsidian tones of the man's eyes.
"Arlo, who the fuck did this to you?" Emeri repeated, in a tone no less malicious. Arlo had been waiting for that moment, waiting to drop Taveel right into the thick of it all, but froze when it actually came to it. It took him a moment to muster the courage to speak, with his voice small and weak as it tumbled over his quivering lips.
"Taveel."