Finding Blood (City Underdark #1)

The Lesson

Full-blooded vampires fell in an unshakable lethargy during the day, that was a fact. During his time as a vampire hunter, Barmond had used that vulnerable time to put an end to vampires after their most troublesome servants and protectors had been dealt with.

It was a little different for half-blooded. As they were vampires that had not fully transformed into a vampire, their daytime lethargy still retained some elements of what had once been their mortal sleep. This meant that it could be disturbed and, if there was any sort of disturbances, Barmond could awake and be ready for action.

Disturbances like his ears being torn apart by a hazardous assemblage of broken notes.

Barmond sat up in the bed. A single glance to his right told him that Yoven was still blissfully lost in Morpheus' tender embrace and that it was daytime. Someone way playing the fiddle on their floor. Sometimes, a melody could almost come through, but then it would crash horribly.

He didn't have the heart to wake up Yoven when he seemed so content. In fact, Barmond was shocked to see that he was willing to sleep in the same bed as a vampire, literally one of humanity's deadliest enemy. Not many would be this brave, yet Yoven didn't seem to have any trouble with it. Not that Barmond would hurt him.

His pants were waiting for him on the dresser. He was out the door as quietly as possible.

It was easy to determine where was the "music" coming from: right across the hallway. No wonder Barmond had woken up. He guessed this was one of the lessons that the innkeeper had referred to when they had checked in, taught by this troupe master. Va... something. Vaja?

He knocked at the door. The only thing that answered him was a particularly gruesome fiddle scream, followed by a parade of equally off-key notes. What sort of lesson was that, instrument torture?

Fearing that it might wake up Yoven, Barmond opened the door. He instantly regretted that decision.

There were two men on one of the beds in the room, the youngest sitting on the lap of the eldest. The first was the one playing, but the second didn't seem very keen on teaching. Not only was he kissing a trail up the other's neck, but his hand was also buried down the unlaced front of his student's breeches. Barmond had the full sideway view of everything that was going on while neither of them seemed to have noticed his presence.

Barmond stopped right in his tracks as his brain processed the sight in front of him. He double-checked. Nope. Unless the teacher was a tall, particularly flat-chested woman, they were certainly both men. He didn't even have to doubt the student's sex when said sex was all but out in the open.

The teacher's hand shifted its grip to focus on the tip of his student's dick and said student barely repressed a moan. But he did drop his archet on the ground.

"Be careful, will you?" purred the teacher in the other's ear. "You need to focus on what you're doing."

"But Vanja--"

"Professor Vanja, my dear."

"Professor-- Your hand--"

"What about it?" Said hand very clearly stroking the dick in its grip as Vanja kept talking. "You consider yourself a good musician, yet you let something like that distract you? Tsk. Weak. Should I really keep you in my troupe? Can I trust you with holding it together during an important presentation?"

"But professor..." He cut himself off with a moan.

"Now now, let's start from the beginning." Vanja pressed his hand between his student's shoulder blades to push him down. "You should pick that up as well."