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Richard sat bolt upright in bed, covered head to toe in a cold sweat, still shaking from the force of the---the----whatever the fuck it was he'd just experienced. He didn't know if it was a dream, or a portent, or a vision, or some glimpse of reality, but it had been painful. And strong. And it sent every reaction to danger he had tingling to full alert. He was lucky he hadn't shifted then and there from the sheer surge of power. It had Anita's taste and essence all over it, and he knew it had to have been something intense, or her mind-shields would have blocked it. He spent a few minutes calming himself, carding hands shakily through sweat- drenched hair, before sliding out of his soaked sheets and grabbing the phone. Time to call the person he hated most. Too bad it also happened to be the only person who could possibly help him in this situation.

Jean-Claude stepped into his office, grateful to close the ornate door behind him. Any casual observer would see nothing amiss; skin pale as porcelain, hair tumbling just so over his elegant lace- trimmed shirt... but the slightest tremor in his hand, the dilated pupils, would give him away to any supernatural creature. Jean- Claude was agitated, and any passing vampire of sufficient power would know in an instant. The... vision? feeling? that had just washed over him had been unformed but deeply disturbing, and though he had no clear picture of it, it could only have come from one person. Anita. No sooner had the door closed, the phone was ringing. Not the normal line but the private one, the one only a select few knew the number of. He was across the plush carpeted floor in an instant, raising the receiver to his ear and speaking softly into it. "This is Jean-Claude."

"You felt it." Richard wasted no time on either pretense or introductions. He didn't have time for games.

"Mais oui, Richard," Jean-Claude purred, wincing at the werewolf's harsh tone. He didn't have to ask what the man meant.

Richard exhaled slowly. "Any ideas?" He sat back on his bed, naked now. He'd kicked off sweat-soaked boxers already.

"Many, mon ami, and none of them good," mused Jean-Claude, sinking into a black leather chair.

"Care to share?" Richard's voice was low, strained, but his frustration was not, for once, directed at Jean-Claude. He knew the vampire was every bit as upset about Anita's leave of absence as he was, and they'd come to a sort of uneasy peace since she'd removed herself from their lives.

Jean-Claude smirked; Richard must be upset indeed to seek him out voluntarily. "Not over the telephone, I fear," he breathed. "You must come here."

"No way," Richard responded flatly. "We need to meet somewhere neutral. I don't trust you." This, he knew, wasn't news to Jean- Claude, but still.

That got a low chuckle from Jean-Claude. Richard did so love to point out the painfully obvious. "Nevertheless, it must be here. I cannot leave safely at the moment, and I do not think you wish to be seen consorting with vampires." He didn't add that the reason he couldn't leave was that he wasn't sure if he was safe to be around humans at the moment. He hadn't yet fed, and the shock of the vision had shaken his self control.

Richard gritted his teeth, running a hand distractedly through golden-brown waves. He really, *really* did not like the idea of going to the Circus of the Damned alone, at this time of night, in his current state---charged up and volatile---but he wanted answers. He was almost positive that disturbing dreams were going to haunt him tonight if he tried to go back to sleep, and although he suspected Jean-Claude was just stringing him along and didn't have any more answers than he did, the possibility of figuring out if Anita was OK---hell, just figuring out what had just happened--- was too tantalizing. He nodded, even though no one could see it, then said finally. "...Have someone waiting at the entrance for me. I'll be there in about 20 minutes."

"But of course," Jean-Claude smirked, refusing to let the werewolf infuriate him. What Anita saw in the cur he didn't know. Unfortunately, they were linked now.

Richard hung up without saying good-bye, covering his face with his hands for a moment. He was not doing this. He wasn't meeting the vampire, the man---thing---he hated most in his own damn lair. This was just a part of one very fucked-up dream.

Apparently, it was no dream, because 20 minutes later, as promised, Richard was waiting at private entrance of the Circus, having showered and changed into decent clothes before coming. Hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off his tanned, handsome face. Brown corduroy pants that matched his soulful, true eyes, and a plain white t-shirt that showed off the muscles beneath his skin. He wasn't dressing to seduce anyone, but he knew as well as Jean- Claude that sex was equated with power in this arena.

Jean-Claude had sent his most imposing male vampire to meet Richard, just to annoy him. He loved to do that in every subtle way possible. It was so much fun. Just like now; he awaited Richard in his personal rooms rather than his office. It would put the conversation on a more intimate level, thus disturbing the painfully straight- laced werewolf. Richard knew that Jean-Claude had no problems having sex with men as well as women.

Richard glowered the whole way to Jean-Claude's room, not missing the subtle message that the vampire was meeting him somewhere *other* than his office. He was already regretting agreeing to meet Jean-Claude here----not only was the vampire his rival in Anita's affections, he was also the Master of the fucking City, and took every opportunity to either rub it in people's faces or take full advantage of the position. Like now. He could feel his hackles rising on the back of his neck as he entered the room, taking in the sight of the (grudgingly admittedly attractive) vampire in his chair. He was sure Jean-Claude couldn't miss the irritation in his eyes.

The smirk on Jean-Claude's face widened to a smile, taking in Richard's appearance. The man looked positively edible, and he meant that literally. Too bad he was so uptight. He rose from his chair with a fluid grace only a two-hundred-year old vampire possessed, and made a small, mocking bow. He was dressed in a white lace shirt and midnight blue trousers that hugged his slim hips. "Welcome, Richard," he purred, using his voice even though he was reasonably sure the man was immune to the power of it. It was a habit. "So good of you to join me." He flicked his attention to the looming vampire escort, and said, "Leave us." Then he pretended to have a thought. "Unless of course, Richard, you wish his presence? Or is he not, as they say, your type?" he asked teasingly.

"Fuck off," Richard returned evenly, pleased that he managed to keep his temper. Well, sort of. "He can leave. This is private." He didn't care who he offended. He was every bit as powerful as the vampire escort. He was not Ulfric of the Thronos Rokke clan for no reason.

Jean-Claude laughed low and soft, and nodded at the escort to leave. "Very well. Can I offer you something to... drink?" he asked, the pause infinitesimal but there. Baiting Richard was too enjoyable.

Richard just glowered at him, before responding, "Water is fine." He would not rise to Jean-Claude's bait. He would not. His libido, on the other hand, was pulsing at the back of his mind, insistent now after being awoken by the charged vision he received earlier, and Jean-Claude, who apparently radiated sex-appeal no matter who was around, was the closest thing. He pushed it down with an inward snarl. He was straight. He didn't sleep with men, particularly not ones who were fucking with his girlfriend.

The vampire went to a matte black refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of French spring water, chilled to just above the freezing point, and glided back to Richard, handing the bottle to him. In case the man thought he was trying to drug him... "As you can see, it is sealed," he remarked. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable if you sat down," he suggested, indicating a grouping of chairs and a couch. All done in black and red leather of course. He sat in a chair, nostrils flaring as he caught the unmistakable scent of arousal from the werewolf. Interesting.

Richard took the bottle of water with a nod by way of thanks, and slowly sank onto the couch, his eyes still on Jean-Claude's face. Why was he so wound up tonight? Yes, he'd had the vision, and yes, he hated Jean-Claude, but it was more than that. He chalked it up to stressed-out frustration and pushed it aside. "So tell me about the vision you got," he said after a moment, taking the top off the bottled water and sipping at it. "I was asleep, so it was really vague, but really powerful." He stared at the wall for a moment, trying to concentrate on the vision he'd gotten and not the bizarre knot of tension at the base of his spine. It was too easy to get worked up---in any sense of the word---after the rush of power he'd experienced. "I was hoping yours was clearer, since you were awake."

"I wish I could say that it was," Jean-Claude said with real regret in his voice. "But ma petite has been blocking our bond for so long now that I no longer get any clear messages from her. I sensed only power, and danger..." He hesitated. "At the risk of disturbing your sensibilities, Richard, I also got the impression of violent sex." He himself had no problem with Anita satisfying her needs with others, but he knew Richard was hopelessly human in that regard.

Sure enough, that last statement, Richard's eyes clouded, and he stared adamantly at the wall. He hoped vehemently that Jean-Claude was wrong, but judging from how... riled up he was, it was probably accurate. "That's pretty much all I got," he said after a moment, sounding more than a little agitated, though he was keeping an admirable hold on his temper. He knew Jean-Claude was as frustrated by Anita's silence as he was.

"I have not felt anything since that brief flash," Jean-Claude went on, then added, "Save for slight lingering... aftereffects." He wasn't sure if he had put that too delicately for the other man to understand, but he should be able to smell it at least. Jean-Claude was aroused.

Richard smelled it, all right, and he didn't like it one bit. He knew Jean-Claude swung both ways, as it were (hell, he wasn't sure there was a way Jean-Claude *didn't* swing) but he was not heading down that road for all the money and power in the world. "I've noticed some aftereffects too," he said, voice flat. No point in pretending otherwise. Didn't mean he had to act on them.

Jean-Claude laughed softly. Richard really was too uptight. Here they were, two aroused, preternaturally strong men, and he wouldn't even consider slaking the lust that would kill a human with each other. "I know," he said pointedly.

Great. Now Jean-Claude was starting in with the sexual innuendoes. Richard really did not need this. He drank down half the bottle, then rose abruptly, not liking the fact that his body was responding to the pulse of Jean-Claude's arousal one bit. "I think I should go, if there's nothing more to talk about," he said curtly.

Jean-Claude rose from his chair just as quickly but much more smoothly, and moved to within a foot of the werewolf. This close, Richard's sexual aura was intoxicating, and Jean-Claude breathed it in like a fine perfume. It echoed off of the vampire's need, and intensified in the small space between them. "Are you absolutely certain you wish to leave?" he purred, eyes nearly black now.

Richard didn't answer immediately, finding himself caught by the deep blue pools of the vampire's eyes. This close, Jean-Claude was absolutely.... breath-taking, and on an entirely different level than Richard was used to dealing with. The Master Vampire's aura wrapped around him, enveloping him and tugging at places inside him no hand was ever meant to touch, and he shivered, pulling himself out of the reverie with a low growl. It wasn't real, he told himself. Just after-effects of the vision from Anita. "Yes," he said emphatically.

"Pity," purred Jean-Claude, not flinching from the growl, but becoming more aroused. "Because I was going to suggest that we combine our powers in an effort to sense if Anita is well or not."

That stopped him short, and he stared at Jean-Claude, as irked as he was undeniably intrigued. "Combine our powers how?" he asked warily.

"I am not sure, it is just a theory," Jean-Claude answered carefully. "But if we cooperate, we may be able to link our minds as two-thirds of the triumvirate to force Anita to drop her shield." She would certainly never expect them to cooperate in any manner.

At least he was being honest. And Richard wouldn't lie and say he wasn't desperate to know what was going on with Anita. And as much as he hated Jean-Claude, for both good reasons and bad, the vampire was at least trustworthy when it came to Anita on this point. They both wanted answers. "All right," he said after a moment, voice still guarded, but definitely interested. His eyes never left Jean- Claude's, brown eyes meeting dark blue without flinching. If only Anita could see them now...

Jean-Claude arched a perfect eyebrow at Richard's quick agreement. He hadn't thought the werewolf would acquiesce so easily. "Splendid," he purred, stepping back. Now here was the catch. "However I must warn you this has never been attempted before."

The eyebrow irked him for some reason, and for a moment Richard started to get defensive, but he quelled that quickly. The only thing he owed Jean-Claude was a punch in the face. "Go on," he said in a low voice, watching the vampire with a mixture of caution, mistrust, and, though he hated to admit it, fascination. Whatever else could be said about him, Jean-Claude was compelling.

Jean-Claude sighed. "This requires trust on our parts, so I fear it may not work. It requires that we both drop our mental shields and make our powers, and our minds, accessible to the other." The vampire knew damn well that Richard would never agree to such a thing unless he really felt Anita was in danger. He of course wanted to save Anita as well, but his motives were not as purely selfless. He wanted to see if this could work, a forced bond contact.

"Well, you're right, that's gonna be hard," Richard responded, and a wry grin appeared on his face, replacing the glower he'd worn since he came in the room, and for a moment it was obvious what had attracted Anita to him in the first place. Then it was gone, seriousness taking up residence again. "Sorry, but I don't exactly trust you enough to let you inside my mind. Any other bright ideas?"

Jean-Claude shrugged. "C'est dommage. If you do not wish to try, I cannot force you," he said with regret. "I am sure ma petite can fend for herself, she is a remarkably resilient woman." A small pause, and a look at Richard. Such a pity, he would have loved to get his hands on that chiseled frame. "After all, she does enjoy rough sex."

That did it. Richard gritted his teeth, anger radiating off him in waves like heat off a sidewalk on a hot summer's day. Jean-Claude was a manipulative bastard and he knew it, but all he could think about now was Anita, screaming her head off as some nameless, faceless man---vampire---lycanthrope, it didn't matter, fucked her into the bed. The vision made him so angry it was all he could do not to spit his next words into Jean-Claude's face like flesh-eating acid. "Keep talking."

It was all Jean-Claude could do not to smirk. For all that he was a powerful Ulfric, Richard was as easy to manipulate as a human. Just the thought of his precious Anita in someone else's bed and he lost all reason. Never mind that he knew full well that Anita had slept with Jean-Claude. "I cannot describe it, we must just do it," he said. "We shall both reach out to Anita, and each other as well, and let the power combine fully."

Richard knew he was being manipulated, knew Jean-Claude was playing him like a drum, but he couldn't help it. Anita was... in some sort of situation, and because they were all now irrevocably tied together, he couldn't just walk away. Couldn't pretend that he didn't wake up nights in a cold sweat, calling out to her, aching without words for the third part of the triumvirate he'd never wanted to be a part of. He'd just wanted Anita. He pushed that line of thought away and took a deep breath. "Okay, so... let's do this." He stared at Jean-Claude, angry and frustrated and unsure how to begin. He could still feel that pulse of pure sex at the bottom of his mind, where all of his most basic impulses were, and if anything, it'd gotten stronger. Dammit.

Jean-Claude smiled, a slow spread of grin that he knew wouldn't reassure Richard. "Let us," he agreed. "I suggest you sit down, get comfortable, mon ami, for this may take some time." He seated himself on the couch. "We shall need to be in... some sort of physical contact," he purred, waiting for Richard's reaction to that.

Richard's reaction was something between a knee-jerk snarl and a flat stare of incredulity. But they'd already established that he was desperate enough to do this, and he wasn't about to back out now, no matter how badly he wanted to shift and rip Jean-Claude's throat out. Never mind the fact that such an act would assuredly kill him as well. He also didn't much like the fact that that purr went straight to his gut. What the hell was he doing getting turned on by a man---vampire---what's more, by the vamp that he most wanted dead? Fuck. His jaw tightened rather noticeably before he sat himself on the couch next to Jean-Claude. Admittedly, at the absolute farthest end from Jean-Claude, but on the same couch.

Jean-Claude felt as if he was leading a recalcitrant mule down a path. "Richard," he said patiently. "While it is not necessary for me to sit on your lap while we do this," and he snickered at the mental image, "I did say there must be physical contact, and I can hardly touch you from here." Actually, he didn't know if contact was required, he was just guessing. But he was reasonably certain. And it would annoy Richard.

Richard took a deep breath, let it out slowly through his nose. He could do this. This was for Anita... and that was a whole barrel of mixed feelings he didn't want to get into at the moment, but he did know one thing: he had to do this. So he hesitantly scooted towards Jean-Claude on the couch, stopping when they were just centimeters away from touching. This close, he could feel their energies reaching out to each other, so eager to mix despite his own reluctance. Jean-Claude was like a great dark pool, limitless and cold, so cold. His own aura curled around it, in it, pawed and twisted and slid against Jean-Claude's aura like a playful wolf cub, taking and giving of their combined strength. Whatever his own feelings, their bond was a powerful one, and it sent shivers up and down his spine. He reached out one hand, chocolate eyes locked onto Jean-Claude's face, hesitantly moving to touch skin against skin.

Shivering slightly from the power of the man next to him, Jean- Claude had a brief moment of doubt that he was truly in control of the situation. But the wash of power over his was intoxicating and exhilarating and arousing all in one, and he reached out to take Richard's hand, and dove in. Like jumping into a bottomless lake, he felt himself immersed in lycanthrope power before his power adjusted, buoying him upwards as their power melded. Vaguely, he felt his body go from merely interested to completely, helplessly aroused, and he shifted closer to Richard unconsciously.

This was... absolutely incredible. Richard gasped as their power met in a noiseless thundering crash, like lightening striking directly overhead, only a thousand times more intense. The edge of his consciousness registered that his cock had gone from sort of hard to straining in his pants, but it was of minimal importance. Suddenly he was face-to-face with Jean-Claude, mere inches from perfect, porcelain skin and *glowing* blue eyes, and he could see their power leaking out around the edges of Jean-Claude's facade of humanity. He could feel himself slipping partly, too, his beast roiling beneath his skin in reaction to the power crackling along both their frames, and he found himself craving more contact, even more intensity that he knew would come with it.

Jean-Claude felt his power, felt it drawn to Richard's beast, felt his body ache for something even he couldn't name. This was so far beyond anything he could have expected that he laughed joyously, and slid his hand up Richard's arm, seeking more contact.

Just that slight contact was more than Richard was bargaining for, and he let out a cry as power arched along his spine, brown eyes going golden and feral at the surge. He automatically dug fingers into Jean-Claude's arm, hard enough to snap a human's bone. "Fuck," he groaned, voice low and hoarse and guttural.

The combination of Richard's touch, his power and his groan made Jean-Claude nearly mad with desire. He wanted to possess Richard, to ravish him and, yes, fuck him, more than he'd ever wanted anyone or anything. He knew it was the power, but he for once was helpless before it, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he tried to resist the urge to just pounce.

Richard was nearly out of his mind with the power, as well, but his desire was making itself known as well. Part of his mind was screaming at him to get away, NOW, before things got any further out of hand, but without Anita here to remind him---to distract him---he was finding it nigh impossible to pull away. The bond was just too strong, the rush of power too heady. Jean-Claude was calling his beast, and with a snarl he pushed it down, riding instead the wave of primal hunger and lust that flowed off it in a great tide of heat.

Waves of lust hit him, sweeping from Richard to Jean-Claude and back again, and the vampire no longer had the will, or the desire to resist. Richard might well try to kill him but holding back was too painful. With a snarl of his own, Jean-Claude moved, flinging himself on top of Richard, pushing the werewolf back onto the couch.

Richard let out a howl of rage as Jean-Claude pushed him backwards, his desire clashing with a flood of pure fury. Supernatural strength flooded his body as he threw Jean-Claude off him, power crackling through the air as he flung himself after the vampire, eyes glowing, teeth bared, his power a pulsing, visible glow around his body. It was no longer just a matter of combining power. It was a battle for dominance, and the loser would either be killed or fucked through the nearest hard surface till he bled from the eyes.

Righting himself, Jean-Claude hissed as Richard bore him back against the wall. He pushed back with every bit of strength he possessed, shoving at Richard with enough force to push a tractor- trailer up a mountain. He would NOT be denied, he would have Richard, and the pressure from his cock seemed to fill his world.

Richard was thrown across the room hard enough to crack the stone wall, a furious scream issuing from his mouth that no human could ever make. It was the accompanying surge of power that stunned him, though. Jean-Claude was in his domain, buoyed by the servants whose power he could draw on just on the other side of thin walls, and Richard was far from his pack, even though they could still feel his rage and desire and the power flooding his veins. It took him several moments to stagger to his feet, teeth bared.

By the time Richard made it to his feet, Jean-Claude was already there, slamming him back against the wall and grabbing at the man's long ponytail, wrenching his neck back. Jean-Claude's nostrils flared as he smelled the flowing blood, just beneath the surface, and wondered how sweet it would taste on his tongue.

Richard knew Jean-Claude could break his neck if he so chose, could end his life instantly if that was what he wanted. He also knew that his own death would mean that of Jean-Claude's, and very likely Anita's, though possibly her shields would save her from that fate. It wasn't a chance either of them was willing to risk, however. He snarled, trying to break out of Jean-Claude's grasp, but even the strength of an Ulfric wasn't enough against an incensed Master Vampire in his own domain, with all his followers nearby. Richard pushed at Jean-Claude, muscles straining beneath the layer of skin, but to no avail. All he could manage was to keep Jean-Claude's mouth away from his neck---for now.

The bloodlust sang through Jean-Claude's body, warring with more conventional lust, and he ached to feed from Richard, to share their power once again. His tongue flicked out, just touching the skin, tasting the tang of sweat and desire. Richard was fighting with all his strength, but Jean-Claude knew in his heart that he could overpower the werewolf. Eventually. He warned off the other vampires mentally, so that none would disturb them. He would have Richard tonight, and it would be a fight, but he would prevail. He didn't push farther to his neck, but instead ground his hips against Richard's, letting the werewolf feel how aroused he was.

The Ulfric growled again, low in his throat, as Jean-Claude pressed against him, and had he been not quite so charged up on power, he would have been horrified at the spark of pleasure that flew along his body, magnified a hundredfold by the incredible power their bond gave them. In this state, the only things that existed were sex and power and blood, and the heady mixture of all three. There was no point in denying his own intense arousal, not when Jean-Claude could smell it, could *feel* it singing in the air and thrumming along their bodies. Rational thought was a distant, cold memory as instinctual *need* took over. Richard snarled, straining against the other monster, the big pulse in his neck visible against his taut golden skin.

As tempting as the hard flesh pressed against him was, Jean-Claude was a vampire and the lust for Richard's blood was the primary thing that drove him now. Dredging up every bit of strength he could, he pushed forward and buried his face against the werewolf's neck for a long moment, just breathing in the scent of the delicious, pulsing life-fluid just under the skin. Then he drew back his lips and his teeth lengthened, preparing to feed. He was nearly mindless now, taken over by lust. The power ebbed and flowed between them, robbing him of his sanity but he didn't care.

Richard screamed as fight-or-flight instincts took over. No one, NO ONE fed on him. Nails clawed at the white shirt, ripping it to shreds as it rent the smooth perfect flesh beneath it as Richard clawed at Jean-Claude's chest and sides, fury giving him new strength. The smell of the blood was maddening, and he roared, throwing Jean-Claude away from him and lunging after, bearing the both of them to the floor. Howls and screams ripped the air as the two monsters rolled on the floor, a blinding flash of claws and teeth and limbs too fast for human eyes to see.

A high keening sound came from Jean-Claude, not of pain but of pure animal delight as he fought with all of his strength and power to pin Richard. He felt his own flesh torn and bloodied but he didn't care; it only added to the pleasure he felt when Richard's blood called to him, even more strongly. With movements that would have broken Richard's spine had he been human, Jean-Claude finally got on top of the Ulfric, pinning him with arms, legs, and eyes. He turned his full, powerful gaze on Richard, eyes the cobalt blue of the midnight sky, a blue so dark that most would think it black. Unconsciously, he rocked his hips, rubbing their straining cocks together, but his focus was that pulse point in Richard's neck, and he dove for it unerringly. Richard was mostly immune to a vampire's gaze but it had distracted him long enough. Jean-Claude went still as his teeth sank into the werewolf's neck at last.

Richard's howl of rage was cut short as fangs sank into his neck, Jean-Claude's mouth fastening at his throat like a drowning man at a watering hole. The Ulfric's first reaction was to shove him off, but his body shuddered as a wave of intense ecstasy rolled through him, the accompanying rush of power almost blinding him. Blood was power in a concrete form, and the sharing of it was so heart- stoppingly intense that Richard stopped breathing for a moment, lost in the rushing, throbbing ecstasy of the vampire's bite. For several long moments, he thought he was going to die from the sensory overload. The werewolf gripped Jean-Claude's body hard enough to break a normal human in two, eyes fixed unseeingly on a spot far above them. Air was rushing past his ears, he was falling, he was flying, he was floating and tumbling and burning----

Jean-Claude hung on like a limpet, and not even Richard could have broken his grip then. He was feeding from a being as powerful as himself, and the rush was even better than the last time. He had the power to make his bite feel like ecstasy, and he did, because the pleasure looped back to him through their shared bond. Mere physical sex paled in comparison, but that didn't stop the vampire from wanting it too, to possess Richard completely. He was mad with blood and lust, and as he drank he reached below him and ripped Richard's pants off as if they were tissue.

The sudden loss of his clothing managed to pierce the haze surrounding Richard's brain, and he snarled, moving arms that were suddenly heavy with lust and ecstasy to shove at Jean-Claude's chest, but with minimal results. But the sudden touch of skin against his was a shock, too, and he gasped, eyes rolling wildly in his head. He clawed wildly at the creature on top of him, desperate to get some purchase, and with a sudden spurt of strength he managed to roll with Jean-Claude on top of him across the floor, ripping flesh and cloth as they went. Soon only shreds of clothing were hanging off of them, only managing to hang on by virtue of being stuck to their skin with blood.

Jean-Claude raised his head, blood dripping down his chin, laughing at the contact of their bodies at long last. He wasn't sure just when his clothes had gotten ripped off but now he didn't much care. He fed on lust as much as blood, and he couldn't get enough. "Why fight it, mon cher?" he growled, voice not quite human. "I shall have you." As if to illustrate, he rolled on top of Richard's back as the man tried to stand, his stiff cock sliding between the werewolf's buttocks, so close to where it wanted to be.

Crazed by lust and power, Richard keened, clawing the floor beneath Jean-Claude as the vampire ground against him from behind. His cock was so hard now it was physically painful, and lust was almost overriding the craving for blood now. But he was not, was NOT going to let Jean-Claude fuck him like some cheap whore. He was Ulfric, he was alpha, and he was no one's bitch. He twisted, one clawed hand lashing out to strike at Jean-Claude's shoulder, the only part he could reach while pinned. At the same time, he bucked wildly, trying to throw Jean-Claude off him so he could pin the vampire. Getting away was no longer the objective. Asserting his dominance over Jean-Claude was.

Snarling, Jean-Claude held on, refusing to give up dominion. He had fed on Richard's blood and now he would feast upon his body. He wrenched one of Richard's hands behind his back, forcing his face into the floor. A remote part of his mind wondered if Richard would think to change, or if he was coherent enough to realize that would give the vampire even more power over him, as the wolf was Jean- Claude's beast to call. No matter, man or beast, Jean-Claude *would* fuck Richard. He had few morals at best, and now... nothing mattered except this lust.

Changing was becoming harder and harder to avoid as base animal impulses strove in Richard for dominance, but still he fought it off. He had enough coherency left to realize that he would be completely under Jean-Claude's power if he shifted (more so than he was now), and he would lose all sense of reason as the beast-mind took over. He screamed in rage as the vampire ground his face into the floor, his free hand clawing furiously at the blood-smeared stone. But he was pinned, arm at an awkward angle, close to breaking completely as Jean-Claude pressed against him from behind.

Jean-Claude felt the quality of Richard's power roil beneath him, and knew the man was fighting his change. Splendid. It was time. With the smallest of shifts he was in position. Usually Jean-Claude took the time to prepare his male lovers but he doubted very much that Richard would hold still for it. Well, the werewolf could take a rough entry, there was no doubt of that, so without further preamble he shoved his cock into Richard, not savagely but relentlessly.

For a split second, Richard thought he felt the flicker of Anita's spirit, a spark of worry and fear that flared briefly in his consciousness, but then Jean-Claude thrust into him, blasting everything else out of his mind. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" He screamed, tightening in painful, automatic reaction to the hard length pressing into his body. Rage flowed through him, colored by undeniable lust and the mind-blowing mesh of their power.

Jean-Claude didn't slow, thrusting into Richard's painfully tight body repeatedly, trying to get the werewolf past the pain and into the pleasure. He had a flash of malicious delight that Richard was... had been... a virgin.

Jean-Claude's pleasure rippled through Richard's consciousness, connected as they were by an almost unbreakable psychic link. The pain and the pleasure roared and twisted into one massive overload of sensation, buoyed by the ceaseless crackle of power around them. Richard snarled and moaned and growled, bloodying his knuckles as he fought against the unforgiving stone floor, his body rocking violently every time Jean-Claude thrust into him.

Jean-Claude snarled right back, driving in and out of Richard, the pleasure building as it fed off their power and pain. "We could have done it the easy way, Richard," he said, his accent more pronounced and his voice more of a sinuous hiss.

"Like---hell---we could've," bit out Richard, voice so strained and deadly as to be almost unrecognizable. Truth be told, he was riding high on wave after wave of ecstasy as Jean-Claude pounded into him, and he could feel his orgasm building at the base of his spine. When he came, it would be so far beyond anything he'd ever had--- even anything with Anita, who, despite being Jean-Claude's human servant and one-third of their very powerful triumvirate, was just not built to take the kind of abuse he and Jean-Claude were both dishing out.

Jean-Claude was single-minded in his pursuit of power and pleasure both, and he wasn't comparing this to any of his other conquests. Not that it would have compared. Never before, not even with other vampires or lycanthropes, had he felt such a rush, such a dose of raw power. He wouldn't soon forget it. He knew when he climaxed that it would be exquisite, and mindblowing. But first he would be sure the werewolf took his pleasure. Not because of any selfless desire to please but the fact that he knew Richard was enjoying it would anger the Ulfric even more. And yes, Richard was enjoying it, despite the violence and protestations and the grooves that the man's nails were digging in the stone floor from his sheer strength. Richard couldn't hide his feelings from Jean-Claude, not now.

It was a damn good thing Richard was a werewolf, and an Ulfric at that, because any other creature would literally have been fucked to death by now. Jean-Claude was being absolutely brutal, slamming in again and again hard enough to make his head spin, but the really astounding thing----or horrifying, he wasn't sure---was that he wanted more. He was furious, absolutely furious at being taken like this, but coherent thoughts were rapidly leaving him. He'd have time to be angry later. Right now the pressure building at the base of his spine was so close to breaking he could taste it, just behind the metallic taste of his own blood.

Jean-Claude pounded relentlessly, never letting up, and he let his power join with Richard's, now colored with passion and lust. Jean- Claude was an incubus, sex was the source of his power, and he let it wash over Richard. He could probably have made the werewolf come without a touch, but he was also brutally fucking him. He willed Richard to climax, to lose control and scream like the animal he so ridiculously denied he was.

Jean-Claude got what he wanted. With an inhuman howl that everyone in the Circus had to be able to hear, the Ulfric came, eyes rolling in his head as his spine bowed off the ground in ecstatic agony. Air roared past his ears, his blood turning to molten gold in his veins as his body *pulsed*, becoming one vaguely man-shaped mass of pure driving energy for a long, hear-stopping moment. Once more he flashed on Anita's mind as the force of his power-driven orgasm blew through her mental shields, then it was gone, lost in the roaring pleasure that engulfed him completely.

If Jean-Claude hadn't been ready to climax, as linked as they were, Richard would have taken him along despite his control. One gasp and the vampire's body stiffened in pleasure so intense that it alone would have stopped a human's heart. But Jean-Claude was already dead, as Anita loved to remind him, so he just rode out wave after wave of it, his and Richard's orgasms reflecting off one another and intensifying like constructive interference. Richard's howl drowned out any physical noise the vampire made, but the psychic scream no doubt aroused any and all supernatural creatures within a five mile radius.

His orgasm seemed to go on for ages, the mental effects lasting long after the physical climax had passed, so that when it finally faded, Richard sagged to the ground, bloodied and utterly exhausted. Muscles that had been taut with the strain of fighting and fucking went limp as wet noodles, and he groaned, almost slipping into unconsciousness.

Jean-Claude pulled himself out of Richard with difficulty; the werewolf's muscles seemed to want to keep him inside. He staggered to his feet, and if any of his entourage had seen him now they would scarcely have recognized him. Disheveled hair, bleeding from a dozen wounds, elegant clothes in rags strewn around him... this was no civilized vampire. This was a sated creature of desire. He stood over Richard and said, hoarsely, maliciously, "She felt that."

That roused Richard, and with an effort and a growl, he rolled onto one side, glaring murderously up at the creature above him. "How could she not?" His voice was as hoarse as Jean-Claude's, but it was about all he could manage. Even fresh anger couldn't give him new strength, not after what he'd just been through. Even bloody and exhausted, though, he glowed with an inner radiance, only clarified by the rigor of sex. He didn't know what to think of what had just happened. It was still too close, too overwhelming. He'd hate Jean-Claude later even more than he already did, he suspected, but just for this moment, he was... spent.

Jean-Claude laughed silkily, looking more and more composed by the moment. The wounds inflicted by Richard himself would take longer to heal, but the conventional injuries were nearly gone. Jean-Claude was probably more powerful than he ever had been right now, imbued as he was with the blood of a lycanthrope and the power of sex. He was still naked though, his body pale and chiseled and perfect. And still hard. His body wasn't constrained by the limits of human weakness. He was aroused by Richard and their bond. "I am certain you and Anita will have much to discuss when next you speak," he smirked. "You have even more in common now."

Richard's strength was rapidly returning as well, thanks to supernatural levels of healing, but he wasn't quite as energized as Jean-Claude was, not being an incubus. And he'd been drained, too, so even despite the power rush he'd received from linking with Jean- Claude, he was weaker. Nevertheless, he got to his feet, eyes smoldering with renewed rage as his strength returned to him. "I'm certain she'll have plenty to say to you, too," he hissed. Anita would *know* he'd never voluntarily have sex with Jean-Claude. This hadn't exactly been rape, but it had been close enough.

Jean-Claude threw back his head and laughed. "If you will recall, my dear Richard," he purred suggestively, "Anita was not that one who had a problem with the two of us being... involved. It was you." He made no move to clothe himself, knowing it would unsettle Richard. "And now you know what we are capable of, together." He vowed to himself, but silently, that this would not be the only time he took the werewolf.

Richard just glared, but he was all the angrier because he knew Jean- Claude was right. That rush of power, that sweet blast of energy had been so amazing as to be nearly addictive from the very first go. He'd never experienced anything like it, save for once or twice when they'd actually managed to tap the real power of their triumvirate. "I think I should go," he started to say, then stopped, realizing with a surge of frustrated anger that he would have to leave naked or ask the vampire for clothes.

Jean-Claude looked Richard over very obviously. "As stunning as that body is, mon cher, I believe the police will not take kindly to you displaying it." He stepped closer, and walked around him. "I may be able to find something to fit you." He let his power mingle with Richard's again, just teasingly.

"How generous of you," he managed through gritted teeth. That brief flush of power caught his breath in his throat, made his cock twitch all over again. But no. He was not just a monster, he was a man too, he was Richard Zeeman, and he was leaving as soon as possible.

"Be sure to tell ma petite how *generous* I was, Richard," Jean- Claude purred. With a thought he summoned an attendant and he told him to bring clothing. "If she ever speaks to you again, that is."

Richard didn't respond to that, just glared in mutinous silence at the wall until the attendant brought clothing---just his size, of course, as Jean-Claude didn't own anything but tailored clothing--- and quickly got dressed. "Thanks," he said curtly.

"Ah, Richard, polite to the end," Jean-Claude said smoothly. "You look ravishing as always." He stepped closer and smiled. "Pity we were not able to contact Anita. But the evening was not a complete waste, was it?" He thought perhaps Richard might have forgotten the actual reason for his being here, and he thought a timely reminder might annoy him further.

It was all Richard could do not to snarl and fling Jean-Claude across the room----or try to, at any rate. He bit out his next words with the barest veneer of civility. "No, I'd say it was a waste." He glared at Jean-Claude, then nodded curtly once more and pushed past the vampire out the door, not waiting for the escort. He knew his way out of the Circus. Now all he needed to do was figure out what the fuck he was going to do *now.*

With a wave of his hand, Jean-Claude summoned vampires to set his room to rights, and went to get cleaned up. Not a waste at all, he decided. And it *would* happen again.