Chapter Twenty-Five
“Well…nice to see you’re coming around.”
Emesh couldn’t mistake that chilling voice. Trask’s evil cadence broke through the fog that had enveloped his head. As his brain cleared, he became aware of a few things. He’d been brought to a decrepit, ceiling-dripping, paint-peeling, no-windows underground lair unfamiliar to him and obviously, not the doctor’s normal asylum. It had been rather hastily put together with hanging wires, bare bulbs, and…oh, joy…a padded ‘work table’ where he lay strapped down.
Wait a minute. He took a deep breath…sort of. Yup. No functioning lungs. He remained invisible. There was a really good piece of news. It meant Douglas had gotten away. Thank the gods. As soon as he stopped being fuzzy, Emesh would make himself scarce as well. Bye, bye, Trask.
The doctor must have read his mind.
“Ah, my friend. Don’t look so heartened. You think you can leave whenever you want…just because you’re a god,” the doctor taunted.
Emesh’s eyebrows rose.
“Oh yes, I did a little examination on you while you were out, and the amulet in your shoulder is a dead giveaway.”
Emesh bristled that he’d been knocked out and Cambion-handled. Gross. He took stock.
His shirt had disappeared, but at least he still wore pants. The god gave a virtual long-suffering sigh. So, no actual violations had occurred. Not that it would have bothered him, physically, if it had. No harm could come to an incorporeal body. It would be like fighting with his invisible brothers. Touch, but no feel. Yucky, but something he could deal with.
Annoying, that Underworld characters like Trask could see him and hear him while invisible, but not terrible. However…screw the incubus-ghoul. He didn’t have to give Trask an eyeful, corporeal or not. Emesh easily slipped out of the leather restraints that had no way of holding him to the table and sent a challenging glance at the doctor.
“Do you need a little reminder of who’s in charge even if the restraints are ineffectual?” Evil-skeevel showed his teeth in a sneer.
Emesh grunted back. “Fat chance of that.” The summer god shook like a wet dog to clear the remainder of the sedative from his head. “Clearly, I’ve regained the upper hand,” Emesh pointed out, then pondered, “but what to do with you?” He looked the doctor up and down. “I can kill you now and put us all out of our misery, or I can call Nergal and get you a one-way ticket to Hell. Although considering what you did to Douglas, I’m more inclined to inflict a great deal of pain and suffering on your sorry ass before I execute ‘Final Jeopardy’.” The god looked around the room for tools to assist him.
“Arrogant god. Keep telling yourself you’re in charge if it makes you feel better.” The doctor played a game of one-up. “What you don’t realize is I have your dear friend, Douglas, stashed several miles away in an undisclosed location.” He tapped an ear-piece that Emesh hadn’t noticed before and lowered a swiveling mic down to his mouth.
“Miranda, my dear, is our guest securely tied down?” Trask asked into the contraption. He looked at the ceiling and receiving his answer, nodded in the affirmative to Emesh. His quick footsteps brought him to a small, haphazard pile of gray electronics on a table at the wall. “Are you listening, Miranda?” he spoke as if to a simpleton. “I’d like to give our friend…” Trask looked up, “…did you say your name?” he asked.
“Emesh,” came the angry reply. The god tried to determine if what Trask said could be true. He’d seen Douglas flee the clearing by his cabin and believed his Chosen had gotten away. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“Ahhh.” Trask actually rubbed his hands together, evil caricature style, and smiled. “God of summer. How lovely. I’m sure there are all kinds of wonderful experiments I can perform on you.”
Emesh narrowed his eyes.
“Where were we,” the doctor’s mind snapped back to the hodgepodge of switches and wires. “Oh yes. Miranda, dear, I’m putting you on speaker. Would you give our guest a little voltage so Emesh can hear his pain?”
Everything stilled for a moment, and the hair stood up on Emesh’s arms. A muffled scream came through the tinny speakers that had been hastily set into the ceiling.
Emesh saw red.
The doctor killed the connection as Emesh launched himself across the room, surrounded the prick’s neck with vice-like hands. He would fucking kill the bastard…and he could. One perk regarding human vs. other-worlders? If Trask could touch Emesh, then Emesh could touch Trask, and the physician was not in a state of invisibility. Hence, he could be hurt.
“Now, now,” Trask said through a constricted airway, but clearly not panicking at the hands gripping his throat. “If you don’t want your lover to endure more pain, you’re going to have to be a good boy and do what I say.”
Emesh cursed and let his hands relax, but he didn’t remove them all the way. The god would win this clash of wills, one way or another. Reason with a bit of physical intimidation seemed like the right cocktail.
“Let Douglas go, and I’ll do anything you say,” Emesh gritted between clenched teeth.
“Absolutely not. God, or no god,” the doctor scoffed, “I don’t believe you for one minute,” he repudiated. “Now be a good boy and go have a seat back on my table, or I’m going to have Miranda increase the voltage on your friends’ balls.”
Just the thought made Emesh drop his hands in horror. He staggered back to the padded surface, foiled for the moment and sat poised on the side. Dammit. He couldn’t do this alone. He needed help. Time to reach out to his brothers.
Enten, Marduk…he opened a god-wide channel. Any gods…can you hear me? There might as well be crickets chirping for the amount of radio-head silence he got back. Shit. He’d clearly been sequestered underground, perhaps quite deeply. No satellite would link him to his boys and girls from here. Emesh was truly alone and would have to brazen this out on his own.
“What do you want from me?” Emesh finally asked.
The doctor’s lids lowered, and his face filled with lust.
“Although it’s Douglas I crave, I’ve never had a god before.” Trask let out a long appreciative breath as he perused Emesh from the soles of his feet to the top of his head…stopping for a good long look at the god’s crotch area. “I want you to turn visible again and let me play with you. If you do, we all win. I get my…curiosity assuaged, Douglas escapes any more pain, and being a god you shouldn’t mind. You can take anything I can dish out.”
“Excuse me if my ass disagrees,” Emesh sent his―toned down―blazing scorn at the doctor. If he’d turned it all the way up, Trask’s short-hairs―as well as everything else from the neck down―would have singed, painfully. “And I hate to tug the zipper back up on your little fantasy, but we have a problem.” Emesh played with fire…but the tool fits easily in his skill-set. The god quirked his head toward the speakers. “No Douglas, no immortal fucking.”
At Trask’s questioning look, Emesh continued. “I have to be within one hundred yards of Douglas in order for me to have a body. Did you notice how I misted out back at his cabin?” Emesh crossed his arms over his very massive, yet unsolid chest. “That’s how it works. One hundred yards or you’re shit out of luck.”
Emesh watched the doctor’s mind churning. He wished for a moment the guy was human. If so, he could latch on to him and mind-suck everything from his brain to see if he told the truth about having Douglas captive. Hell, the groan over the speakers could well have been a recording or a victim other than Douglas, the latter, of course, also being unacceptable. But not only was Trask not human, Emesh had to be visible for that special power to work. Two strikes on what would have been a fine idea.
“Perhaps we could do what I have in mind,” Trask turned speculative, “even with you invisible.” The doctor had that lustful look in his eyes again, and Emesh―skeeved out―pretended not to see it. Creep-city. The god would have to talk with Douglas before they mated and see if his Chosen would like to expunge the man’s nasty orbs from his consciousness. His buddy Dagon could do a fine selective memory-culling, and it might be for the best. Nobody should have Trask in their head for the rest of eternity.
“Sorry to burst your lecherous little bubble, doc, but yeah…you can touch me. You can probably even fuck me, but like all gods when we’re invisible, I won’t feel a thing. What’s the saying? No pain, no gain? Oh, and if you want a blowjob, I can’t vouch for what you’ll get, but for me, it will be like stuffing a big wad of clay into a void that’s minus receptors.” Emesh gave a huge yawn. “Boring.” The god ended with a mock-regretful shrug. “Now isn’t that the biggest buzz-kill?
“What is it your type feed on? Oh, yeah. Fear and pain. Sorry, you won’t get either from me unless Douglas is within one hundred yards, and I’m fully functional.” In which case, Emesh schemed to himself. Once you bring Douglas to me, I’ll get him out of this hell-hole in the blink of an eye. Before you can inflict any damage.
Emesh could see the gears turning in Trask’s head. The doctor finally walked to the far side of the room and took a chair. “Then I guess we wait.” He glared across at Emesh and tapped his mouthpiece. “Miranda? Find a few ghouls and have them ready Mr. Wingfeather for transport.”
****
Trask played a dangerous game, but the payoff could be oh-so-sweet in the end. He didn’t have Douglas, but if the man had feelings for the god in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to stay away from the cabin where Emesh had been taken. Douglas would have to come back to determine what had happened to his lover, and Trask had a number of his minions standing by to take the human…as soon as he showed up.
One unknown? Whether Emesh had introduced Douglas to any other gods. That would be highly inconvenient. Trask would surely lose if he had the whole fucking Overworld coming down on his head.
He’d warned his ghouls to be on the lookout for other deities. They, too, had the ability to see invisible gods. If Douglas arrived with an escort, his ghosties were to abort and attempt to follow Douglas until he no longer enjoyed protection. The minute Douglas ended up alone, they were to seize him and bring him to Trask’s underground ‘office.’
The doctor was no fool. He hadn’t been on earth for a hundred and sixty-one years without learning a thing or two. He figured, once Douglas came within the hundred-yard prescribed distance, Emesh would regain his body and make haste to break them both out. Then and there, things would get tricky.
What the god didn’t know? Miranda’s remote call had been from a very well-equipped medical van, and the pained cries had been from a ghoul who’d pulled the short straw in a get-zapped lottery. They were standing by, down the road from Douglas’ cabin, to transport Douglas if and when he showed up.
Trask texted his human odd-body now, telling her to make a quick foray down to Amherst to pick up lots of stout chain and padlocks at the hardware store. Once they had Douglas, she would bind him in place in the van, so a possible rescue would at least be hampered. It would require a certain amount of time for Emesh to free the human which would allow Trask to send a few more darts into the god’s neck, rendering him helpless.
Once knocked out, Emesh could be bound, and hopefully, kept in a state of semi-awareness that would hamper his god powers. Not the ideal way Trask liked to dominate his sexual partners but to have a god… His scrotum clenched in anticipation. It would be worth the male being only partially alert. The doctor would still make Emesh scream.
As for Douglas, he presented a different matter altogether. Trask had spent years with the male, changing him…grooming him to become his protégé and closest confidant. When Trask had been deposed from his position at the institution, he’d only been partway toward achieving his goal. Having Douglas under his control again, he could continue with his program and complete the luscious man’s transition.
Trask’s success with the human when the doctor had failed with so many others, now started to make sense. Just like the vampiric-demon blood in his mother that allowed her to spawn with an incubus, so must Douglas have some latent god-blood; the reason Emesh had become interested and sniffing around. And those special god-corpuscles must be the reason Douglas’ body had not rejected Trask’s experimentation like so many weak humans.
The doctor shuddered with glee. It wouldn’t be long before he had more than he’d ever dreamed of. A god for a sexual plaything and a true partner in blood and in spirit.
Trask tried to calm himself. He had to watch it. Between lust for the god, Emesh, who would soon roar beneath his thrusting loins, and the imminent arrival of the human who would be like a son, Trask’s prick throbbed, and his gums became swollen and inflamed.
No. It would not do to get out-of-control right now. It could be hours…perhaps days before he could sate himself. The doctor took deep breaths and tried to think of something repulsive to kill his rising libido.
Severed heads? No. Been there…seen that. Dead puppies? Too cute. Ahh. He had it. The loving picture of a soldier returning from war to see his baby for the first time. Gag. How abhorrently heart-wrenching. Trask, adequately subdued for the time being, turned his attention back to Emesh.
“So, are you and Douglas lovers?” he asked, not sure what he wanted to hear.
“Don’t even go there,” Emesh warned. “You’ll never have him again. He and I belong together. The two of us are fated.” Emesh looked imperious, daring the doctor to dispute that fact.
“So, you think,” Trask postured, equally smug. He stroked his thin cheeks and had an idea. Should he? Would it hurt his plans in any way? Trask had been silent and alone in his craftiness for so long. But what the hell? It could be gratifying to let someone in on his master plan. Emesh was an other-worldly gentleman of superior brain. Certainly, the god would see the efficacy of what Trask had been doing. And even if he didn’t, nothing the immortal could do would stop him.
“You see, Douglas is special,” Trask offered up. “I’ve often wondered why, but now, I’ve figured it out, thanks to you. Your connection means he must have a modicum of immortal blood in him.” The doctor scrutinized the god’s face carefully, but Emesh gave nothing away.
“I’m sure you can commiserate. I’ve spent over a hundred and fifty years on earth, watching the people I’ve…collected along the way, die. I’ve always longed for a partner to go through life by my side. So, I started doing blood exchanges with humans, hoping to turn at least one of them into my species. I long ago found I am unable to procreate through sperm,” he explained.
“I hadn’t achieved a bit of luck in the blood department either, all subjects…succumbed. Until I met Douglas. He became my victory. Our blood melded perfectly. He received mine, and I received his. Nobody suffered.”
A horrified look overtook Emesh’s face, and Trask became smug. Maybe the god would give up his claim to Douglas, now he knew Trask’s blood ran in his veins.
“The only problem became time,” the doctor admitted. “His blood—which I now perceive as immortal—ran strongly, and for every ounce of mine I gave Douglas, his damned body absorbed it, turning it back into what it previously was. I changed things and started taking his blood into me, then sending it back to him. A turning point. After that, Douglas showed more of my markers with every exchange. I made extraordinary headway until my experimentation had an interruption.”
“You mean when they kicked your ass out of the hospital,” Emesh growled.
Trask shrugged. “It’s all moot now.” He steepled his fingers and smiled. “I have Douglas back, and I will continue. Eventually, he will be completely mine.”
“Over my dead body,” Emesh made to rise, but Trask tapped the headset again.
“Don’t make me inflict more pain on our dear boy,” the doctor chastised. “I don’t want him to come to any…harm. The way I see it from here is if you take care of my sexual needs, I won’t force myself on Douglas for those more base invasions. He’ll still experience discomfort with our transfusions, but that will be the extent of his trauma.”
Now Emesh looked confused. “Why should Douglas have any pain from an IV of blood?” he asked. Trask could see, for the god, something still didn’t add up.
He gave his guest an evil smile, twisted away, then hunched his back, gasping with his head down, until the sharp, yet accustomed pain subsided. He paused, glorying in the fear and trepidation he could sense, oozing from Emesh. Balm to his soul. He prolonged the tease, and why not? The god was in for an unpleasant surprise. Might as well make the most of it.
Eventually, Trask raised his head, tipped his chin arrogantly skyward, and slowly opened his mouth. Emesh gave a small cry of horror. He could barely form the words that worked from his throat.
“Vampiric-demon,” Emesh breathed, shaking his head back and forth, clearly aghast with denial.
“That’s right,” Trask lisped, his fangs now fully extended and dripping with saliva. “A whole new meaning for blood exchange.”