NAOKO STARED OUT through the iron bars of the cage. He clutched them in his hands, his fingers twisting, white-knuckled, gripping so tightly they hurt.

He was growling in the back of his throat.

He couldn’t help himself.

At this point, he barely knew he did it.

Hunger twisted his insides, pulling at him, making him sick with longing. His cock was hard. Saliva filled his mouth. His fangs were extended painfully, making the longing worse, bad enough that some part of him wanted to sink those teeth into his own wrist.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the scene playing out in front of him.

He couldn’t close his ears to the sounds coming from it, the sickeningly sensual slurping and sucking sounds that seemed to fill the high-ceilinged room.

He felt dizzy with it. He felt drugged, lost in a level of desire he’d never experienced.

He wanted to scream at the other vampire.

No, he wanted to roar at him, to tear him limb from limb.

He wanted to throw himself against the bars of the cage until he bled.

He knew, though.

He knew if he said a word––if he raised his voice to the other male in any way, much less hurt himself, or threatened him, or swore at him––he would pay for it. He wouldn’t pay for it in pain, which he would have preferred. He would pay for it in hunger, in deprivation, in this fucking cage.

Frustration filled his mind, vibrating the very blood drying in his veins.

He’d been tortured before, as a human.

He’d been deprived of food, of water, of movement.

He’d been trained to deal with those things. He’d been captured twice while behind enemy lines, and he’d been forced to put that training into real-world practice. Even recently, he’d been caught on that island, and tortured in a sense, although that had been relatively mild in comparison, apart from the confinement, the darkness, the heat, the insects, the thirst.

Well, and having to watch Jem get beaten––

He cut the memory off without thought, but it came back within seconds. That time, it lingered strangely, confusing him.

His confusion worsened as the memory filled his mind, making him grimace.

Pain rippled his veins.

That pain wound through him mixed with crystal-clear images, a rising sick feeling in his gut. Within seconds, the images hurt to look at.

The emotions worsened.

He looked away from the feeding vampire for the first time, gasping as that pain filled his chest. He gripped the bars tighter, then opened one hand, clutching at his chest instead, fighting a sharp, knife-like reaction behind his ribs, a new pain, something he’d never felt before.

It felt like he was having a heart attack.

If he’d been human, he would have been sure he was having a heart attack.

In front of him, Dorian lifted his head.

Staring at Nick through the bars, he dropped the female human on whom he’d been feeding, letting her fall unceremoniously to the floor. She crumpled there, landing inelegantly in a sprawling kneel, whimpering in the back of her throat.

Dorian barely seemed to notice.

He stalked gracefully to the cage, then, in a single move, crouched in front of it.

“What?” He stroked Naoko’s fingers where his one hand still gripped the bars. “What is wrong, my friend? What is happening?”

“I don’t know,” Naoko managed. “Pain.”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head, fighting it.

“What is this pain you feel?” Dorian’s voice was soft, coaxing. “This is not from the blood, young brother. What is it?”

Naoko didn’t answer. He could only shake his head.

He didn’t know the answer to the vampire’s question, anyway.

He couldn’t comprehend any of it.

The pain worsened. He saw Jem behind his eyes. He saw the seer lying naked on black stone, being kicked, punched, thrown against the rock. Naoko winced with each hit, gasping, although he no longer needed air in his lungs.

“Make it stop,” he managed, his voice a half-groan. “Make it stop… please.”

Dorian’s voice held understanding.

“You are remembering.” He didn’t voice it as a question. His fingers turned softer, gentler. “It is a part of being so young, Naoko. All of your memories will come back. It is gradual, at first. You remember information, but the feelings come back slower.”

Naoko looked up at him.

He fought to hold the vampire’s scarlet gaze, still fighting for air he no longer needed, still gripping his chest, grimacing from the pain. He saw sympathy in those scarlet eyes, which confused him more, but drained away part of his rage. He even thought he saw the scarlet fade somewhat, turning them the closest to clear Naoko had ever seen them.

“It is because we feel things so much more,” Dorian said, still stroking his hand. His voice was a murmur, lower than a whisper. “We feel so much more, my beloved. We could not handle our vampire emotions if we remembered everything all at once. So we remember the information first… the feelings come later. They come slowly, so as not to overwhelm us. They come, and we grow used to living as we really are. We grow accustomed to managing the full, unfiltered range of our emotions.”

Dorian turned, glancing at the girl on the floor.

She was holding her neck now, whimpering, her eyes wide and confused.

“They really are the children,” he said softly. “Living half-lives. Feeling half-feelings. They have no idea what emotions truly are. They don’t know the power of them.”

He looked back at Naoko.

The sympathy in those dark red eyes had grown stronger.

“I will get you something to eat,” he said, his voice softer still. “You will eat, and we will talk. Is that all right with you, Naoko?”

The younger vampire half-lay in the bottom of his cage now.

He gripped his chest, fighting to think past the pain, fighting not to burst out in a cry or a sob. He couldn’t comprehend most of Dorian’s words. He couldn’t comprehend how anything as ephemeral as a feeling could do this to him.

He couldn’t comprehend a name for the feeling at all.

He only gripped the iron bar so that Dorian would keep touching him.

“Yes,” he managed.

Tears came to his eyes as he stared up at that beautiful face.

“Yes,” he said. “Please, brother. Please.”

He’d barely spoken the words when Dorian rose, regaining his feet.

Before Naoko could blink, the blond vampire had vanished.

The only way Naoko knew he had left was the sound of the closing door, and the absence of his stroking fingers.

He was left there, alone, in the cage, groaning with pain, panting without taking in or expelling air, staring up at the shadowy patterns the firelight made on the ceiling.

He couldn’t keep the room in his sights for long.

Images of that cave, of Jem, of blood and water and cut flesh filled his vision. He felt each blow, over and over, wincing with kicks, with groans from the prone seer, from blood running down his chin. Naoko lay there, paralyzed with horror, with fear for the seer’s life, fear for Angel’s life, who he loved like a sister.

He would die here.

He would fucking die in this cave.

The darkness, the rattling chains, the taste of blood, the bite of insects and rats…

He gasped, fighting to breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t get any air.

He remembered dragons.

He remembered dreaming of dragons.

He half-lay there, feeling broken, gasping without air, paralyzed with the onslaught of emotion, with the onslaught of sensations so intense he couldn’t comprehend anything outside of them. He didn’t know how long he lay there, reliving every second of those memories in the cave, but without any of the cushion, any of the numbness, any of his previous defenses.

Somewhere in that endless-feeling stretch of time, he realized something else.

Dorian had taken the human woman with him.

Naoko really was alone.

HE HAD NO idea how long Dorian was gone.

The memory of the caves passed before Dorian returned.

The emotions softened, growing bearable.

Naoko remained slumped in the bottom of the cage, naked, fighting a restrained panic that the memory might come back, or a new one might hit him before Dorian returned.

He had a lot of memories.

He could list them off.

He could describe every memory like a multi-faceted diamond, living somewhere in the recesses of his mind, every detail intact. He remembered the facts of them in exquisite detail, but really only the bare-bones information of them, like Dorian said.

He knew the facts of his life.

He recounted those facts and timelines much more clearly now, in terms of the specific, concrete details of every second he’d lived up until now. Naoko remembered dates, names, faces, locations, specific things that occurred, actions he took, actions and events he witnessed, his own specific reactions and thoughts.

He could list off his own emotional reactions to those events in a way he couldn’t recall ever having done as a human––

But Dorian was right.

Naoko couldn’t yet feel them.

If Dorian was right about the rest of it, that would change soon.

The thought fucking terrified him.

Like Dorian said, humans walked through a perpetual fog. Their senses were dulled. Their vision was poor. Their hearing was even poorer, not to mention their sense of smell, and taste. They half-existed. Half-experienced.

Half-felt.

At the moment, Naoko envied them that.

He wanted that ability back.

He wanted his previous coping mechanisms back, too––but he could already feel them as unworkable here, in this body, in this way of experiencing the world. It was like trying to use a sponge to suck up all the water in the ocean.

So he could only lay there, his mind obsessively recounting the facts of his life, the pieces he could list out dispassionately, even now. He reviewed the list, looking at the bare bones of those experiences, and as he did, the implications of what Dorian said sank deeper and deeper into his understanding. His fear grew, the longer he thought about the older vampire’s words, extrapolating their meanings in relation to the life he’d led as a human.

The thought of remembering the emotions behind those memories, the visceral experience of those memories, terrified him.

He wondered if it could even kill him.

More likely, it would drive him mad.

He was still lying there when the door swung open, nearly soundless on its hinges.

Naoko heard the sound though.

He leapt lightly to his feet in a crouch, so he wouldn’t bang his head on the cage, which didn’t allow him to stand fully upright. He looked up through the bars, and found Dorian looking at him. The vampire smiled at him warmly as Naoko watched.

An instant later, Dorian turned away, sliding his long coat off his arms and back and hanging it up on the coatrack by the door.

Naoko was still studying the vampire’s face, trying to comprehend what lived behind the blankness of his expression, when the vampire turned back towards the door.

He pulled in a human.

Naoko had already known he had a human with him––he could smell it.

The smell was too strong to be a remnant on the other male’s clothes.

Anyway, Dorian promised. He promised he would feed him.

Dorian didn’t break his promises.

“Will she suffice?” the vampire said.

The older vampire drew the girl out of the shadow of the doorway, closing the panel behind both of them. Her large brown eyes stared down at Naoko, confused enough that she must already be in thrall to a degree, but not enough that she wasn’t still afraid.

Naoko got hard just looking at her.

She was beautiful.

Maybe in her early twenties, or even late teens. Liquid brown eyes, long black hair, high cheekbones, a voluptuous body. She wore skinny jeans, a band T-shirt with white writing scrawled over the front. On her feet were pink Converse sneakers.

She looked like Dorian had grabbed her out of punk club, or maybe off a skateboard as she rode down the street.

“Is she all right, Naoko?” the older vampire said. “Don’t answer too quickly.” His voice grew a touch warning. “Don’t be too eager, Naoko, however hungry you are. You may fuck this one if you wish, so make sure she is to your liking. As I have said, we kill for reasons. We choose those we take for reasons. We do not kill indiscriminately… like animals.”

Naoko’s tongue thickened in his mouth.

Despite his body’s reaction, the more analytical side of his mind didn’t miss other relevant implications in the vampire’s words.

Dorian was going to let him out of the cage.

That, or he was going to put the female in here with him.

Either way, the cage door would open.

“Naoko?”

After a bare pause, the younger vampire nodded.

“She’s perfect,” he said, meaning it. “Absolutely perfect.”

Dorian’s full lips lifted in the faintest of smiles.

Although the expression was barely visible, Naoko knew the other vampire well enough by now to know he’d pleased him greatly with his approval.

“Would you object to my joining you?” Dorian said, his voice polite.

Naoko looked at him.

He was so hungry, he couldn’t help but frown.

He didn’t want to share his kill.

Dorian’s gaze flickered over his face, even as he unhooked his belt, removing it from around his waist and coiling it, sticking it in a drawer. He kicked off his shoes next, still watching Naoko’s face, and placed them in the bottom of his wardrobe.

“Not in eating her,” Dorian clarified after another pause. “I have several others for that. I would not steal this meal from you, Naoko, after making you wait so long. You have behaved well this past week.”

Closing the wardrobe on his shoes, the vampire walked back towards him, folding himself into a heavily cushioned chair, one that faced the iron bars of the cage. A small, ornate table stood next to the chair. Pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle that stood there, Dorian lifted an eyebrow in Naoko’s direction.

“Besides,” he added. “I’ve eaten twice tonight. The others I brought can all be yours, if you wish. Assuming you behave. I wasn’t sure how hungry you would be.”

Naoko frowned, puzzled.

If Dorian didn’t want to feed with him, what did he want?

The vampire mentioned the two of them talking earlier.

Naoko wasn’t averse to that, not anymore.

Despite the cage, despite all of the bullshit head games, despite the attempts to cultivate Stockholm Syndrome in him, the vampire was surprisingly easy to talk to. He also didn’t lie to him, from what Naoko could tell, or try to gaslight him, or bully him, or play any of the other psychological games he’d despised back when he was human.

Naoko had gotten to the point where he even looked forward to their talks, although he wasn’t blind to what was happening there, either.

He knew the vampire was handling him.

He knew the cage, the kindness, the controlled feeding, the attempts to foster dependence, to gain his trust, to educate him on vampire law, even vampire ethical stances––it was all part of the same head-fuck psychological leash.

They were trying to control him.

Brick probably wanted him controlled, especially after that scene in the night club outside the city center. He’d likely told Dorian to find some way to calm him down.

Naoko’s military mind could understand that.

That same part of his mind could even respect it.

Hell, he’d done the same thing during high-value interrogations. He’d been trained in this exact same bullshit, once upon a time. He knew how the game was played.

He knew they were trying to break him softly this time, instead of the hard way.

He knew that talking to him, establishing trust, was a foundational part of that.

He knew the affection, the presents, the gradual granting of freedoms, the heartfelt conversations, the teaching him about vampire biology, vampire culture, vampire history… all of it was part of that.

He also knew the soft approach was generally more effective.

But he didn’t get the sense talking was what the vampire meant, not this time.

This might still be soft approach, but it was something new.

Studying the vampire’s face, he finally just asked.

“If you don’t want to eat her, then… join me in what?”

The vampire held his gaze, taking a longer drink of the wine. He didn’t speak, but his eyes somehow grew more heated, more predatory.

Naoko felt it, without knowing precisely how he felt it.

He felt it well enough to understand, on a gut level at least.

His mind followed, wrapping around what the vampire was telling him. Or asking him. Or posing as a theoretical question, maybe.

The permissions part of all of it, Naoko still wasn’t overly clear on.

When the silence stretched, Naoko felt his chest clench in a different way. He stared at the vampire in near disbelief, watching the other study his reactions openly as his understanding sank in. Naoko looked at the female, then back at Dorian.

Was he talking about fucking her? Or fucking him?

Or fucking both of them?

He was pretty sure he knew the answer to that, too.

Again, however––he didn’t know precisely how he knew.

However he had discerned it, the information hit at him strangely, confusing him more than disgusting him, or even scaring him.

He knew vampires were basically bisexual.

All of them seemed to be, from what he’d observed… which wasn’t all that different from seers, as far as he knew, and from what Miri told him. She told him, more or less matter-of-factly, that Black had been with men. Apparently, Black had been with a lot of men, although most of that might have occurred back on Old Earth, and may or may not have been consensual.

The information surprised Naoko at the time.

It may have even shocked him, given how he perceived Black––and despite the fact that Naoko wasn’t particularly homophobic as a human. He’d had gay friends most of his life, growing up in San Francisco.

He’d had gay roommates, gay bosses, gay colleagues, gay school friends.

Black surprised him more because…

Well, because it was Black.

Now, Naoko’s reaction to Black’s bisexuality was a shrug.

As little as Naoko may have told himself those differences mattered to him as a human, they did seem to genuinely matter to him even less now.

Still, he knew nothing about it.

He also didn’t know what it meant for him.

Was he more bisexual now, simply from having transitioned? Would he grow to seek it out, to crave it, as he did with women? Or would it manifest more as indifference? Would he simply cease to care, either way, what sex his sexual partners were?

Would he start to notice males the way he now noticed females?

It was a strange thought.

Was the vampire even propositioning him?

Or just informing him of the new lay of the land?

As thrown as he was by the possibilities raised by Dorian’s silence, by the meaning Naoko read into that silence, and by what all of it might spell for him personally, he couldn’t help but think about it in terms of his captivity, as well.

Mainly, he wondered how he might use it to his advantage.

If Dorian was attracted to him, would that give him any leverage over the vampire?

Dorian laughed, startling him.

When Naoko looked up, he saw the vampire smiling at him knowingly. It was as if he saw the precise instant Naoko’s mind shifted from shock to strategic assessment.

“Do not kid yourself that you might take the opportunity to snap my neck again, Naoko.”

Naoko tensed, gripping the bars of the cage instinctively.

Dorian only smiled at him, shocking him with what looked like a real smile, despite the flash of fang. The vampire continued to look at him fondly, that same smile gradually reaching his eyes.

“…As taken as I may be in the moment, I would not try it if I were you,” he warned humorously. “You surprised me once. Do not expect that to happen again… at least not anytime soon. I know a bit more about you now.”

Naoko grunted at that.

He still found himself staring at the older vampire warily.

He couldn’t make up his mind if he was meant to be intimidated, intrigued, turned on, or simply thrown off balance.

Dorian seemed content to let him make up his own mind on that score.

“Are you ready to come out of the cage, Naoko?” Dorian said.

After barely a hesitation, Naoko nodded.

“I am,” he said.