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The instant that Ezzy was out of sight, Michael had whimpered and clung to Nethaniel, pulling close to that so familiar scent, refusing to let go. He couldn't have explained it himself if he had tried. He didn't want to be alone, not with so many odd smells, the scent of blood coming off of everyone around him apart from the auburn haired boy. He had buried his face in that vanilla scented skin, and for a moment he was tempted to bite down at that hard pulse in his throat, but a sharp knock on the top of his head made him settle down, made him simply content himself with smelling, scenting that skin. At first it was sweet. A warm and baking scent, as if he would have ran like sugar over michael's tongue if he licked him. He had licked him, keeping his teeth away, as that had earned him his sharp rap on the head. He had the boy's shirt clutched in his fisted hands, looking like he were a child who had been saved from the monsters.

The boy had laughed against him, and he didn't understand the reaction, not entirely. He was tasting him, trying to see what he was, and the boy had wriggled. It wasn't the reaction he had expected, not really. He had thought he would be hit again, reprimanded for doing something so forward. He wasn't thinking in such clear terms however, he simply wasn't dominant in his own mind for such endeavors. Though he couldn't hold back his curiosity. He had never smelled another panther outside the zoo, and his head was so full of that feral thinking that he had climbed up into the boy's lap the minute they had sat down. He straddled him, hands clinging in his shirt, nuzzling that warm stretch of bare skin where the neck of his shirt stopped. He had tried to nose under the shirt, but that had earned him a whack on the head too.

There were voices around him, but he couldn't hear them. He didn't lick now, didn't nibble or bite, simply rubbed his jaw over and over that warm skin under his cheek, a low purr in his throat. He had melted into the boy the moment he had the position for it, leaning into him instead of being held and carried by him. There was a warm rumbling under his own hands, and he couldn't help feeling delighted that he wasn't being a bother. He took it as an invitation, snuggling against him as if he were a kitten, snuggling down with a brother or sister.

"What are we going to do with him, then?" Anita had her arms crossed, her handgun tucked back in it's shoulder holster once more. she had discarded the light jacket she had worn once they made their way through the circus, and down into the lower depths of the place, to the underground area where the vamps slept for the day. There was just no sense in wearing it, as everyone had seen the gun so many times that they barely noticed it anymore, and she had been getting hot. She was the one who had kept hitting the Asian boy on the head as if he were a bad kitten. He was dressed so..scantily, and like a woman no less. To say it bothered her was an understatement, and more than that, he was crawling all over one of her lovers. He was not earning himself many points in her books.

Jean-Claude had refused to answer any of her questions until they had gotten down into the underground, in the improvised living room. It looked as though it where something out of a dream, or a movie set, but that was because of the walls, really. They were draped in white and silver cloth, covering the actual walls, which were made of stone, and tended to make the place look like a dungeon. The carpet was plush and white, and felt like it should have let you sink into it, like having to wade through snow or wet sand.

the furniture was all white leather; A couch long enough for five people to sit comfortably, two arm chairs that looked like they would have cost twenty grand each easy, a glass coffee table done in silver around the edges, and the curving legs underneath, a faux fireplace that you could actually have fires in, and the thing that the whole room was centered around; A painting of three figures clothed in the colors scattered around the room; Gold, silver and white. Jean-Claude, asher, and Julianna, in a painting that had Anita re-think Jean-Claude's age to more around 400.

"Well, first I believe we should feed him, as it seems he doesn't quite have a hold on himself at the moment. He is like a baby vampire who has not yet fed. Curious.." Jean-Claude's voice was amused, but it also held that barely detectable tone of excitement.

Yurick was sitting on the couch next to Nethaniel, feeling like a worried boyfriend who's date had gotten just a little too out of hand in public. He kept wanting to peel Michael away from Nethaniel, but every time he tried it was like earlier, and michael growled. They had sent Jason to go get him something to eat. "Food's here." a cheerful voice called from the top of the stairs, Jason making his bouncy way down, holding a sack of takeout, apparently filled with hamburgers.

"Try putting it under his nose. No doubt he cannot smell anything else right now but our precious Nethaniel." Jean-Claude's voice was mild, but there was humor in it. He was enjoying watching the Asian boy crawl all over the auburn haired shifter. Anita wasn't all that comfortable with it, and she wasn't so sure that it was a good idea to send someone over to the boy, especially with food. "What if he just bites him?" She asked in a dry tone, crossing her arms under her breasts. You couldn't actually cross your arms over your chest when the breasts got large enough, and it made it hard to look tough cradling your own breasts.

Jason took one of the plain hamburgers out of the bag and moved over to Nethaniel, doing what Jean-Claude had told him. He knew better than to question the vampire himself, and preferred not to be suffering from a swollen cheek from smarting off. Oh, he still did it, but he just didn't want to deal with the consequences. He gave Nethaniel a grin before moving around to the back of the couch so he could put the hot warm smell of the hamburger under Michael's nose. His head shot up nearly instantly, and Jason was about to take a step back when quick slender arms lashed out, snatching the food from his hands as the Asian boy rolled off Nethaniel's lap, and into a crouch on the floor.

There were a few curious looks around the room, and a few confused. He had moved so fast that he had been a soft blur. As if one were looking through a camera lense, and the picture wasn't properly focused. Michael gobbled down the food in a swiftness that made Anita put a hand over her stomach. "Is he even swallowing?" she sounded as if the whole idea made her want to feel sick about it. "I don't think he is." Jason's surprised lilt came, looking on with slightly wide eyes. Nethaniel shifted, sitting up on the couch and Michael moved from crouching to sitting suddenly, hit bottom hitting the floor as he pushed to cross his legs. He growled low in his throat as the boots made it difficult, the heavy bottoms hitting each other before he spread his legs wide, throwing one over the other then tucking them under himself.

He stuffed the last of the burger into his mouth, then looked around expectantly, a shine in his eyes. He still had that mostly feral look to him, but there was something...like sun peeking through heavy rain clouds. He was slowly spilling back into himself. He reached hands out toward Jason as if he knew what was in the bag he was holding. "Just give him the whole thing, Jason. Maybe if he can just fill himself, we can get someone to actually talk to quicker." Anita was getting impatient. She was actually grateful that the boy wasn't on Nethaniel anymore, but she wanted to get things going. How had they missed a panwere? Or, she thought maybe he was one. He had been a wolf out in the ring, but then he had been purring. And spending enough time with werewolves, she knew that they most certainly didn't purr.

Jason moved forward, shrugging as he handed the bag to the Asian boy. Michael took it, and ripped it in half from the top, pulling a hamburger out with each hand and started digging into them. The way he ate made it look like he hadn't eaten in a week. He hardly chewed, rather just making the bites small enough for them to actually fit down his throat. Around his fourth he slowed down though, looking around as if he had only just realized there were other people in the room, and perhaps he should be more polite. He scooted, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he moved with his back facing everyone in the room he could, but it made him face Nethaniel again, and he suddenly forgot to eat, the last hamburger raised half to his lips as his eyes went suddenly wide, and his blush thickened to the point that he looked like red paint spread over bleached white paper. His stomach gave a protesting roll, insisting that he had to eat that fifth hamburger. He wasn't even half full yet.

"S-s-sorry.." he murmured, dipping his head, wishing again that his hair were loose about his shoulder so it would slide forward, hide his face. He felt like he should be apologizing to everyone, but he knew he had to eat, and dipped his head down, chewing at the hamburger. He still ate it like he were starving, but he tried to be quiet, and hide as much as he could with his body. "Wow..he's got a real pretty voice, doesn't he?" Nethaniel reached out, ruffling michael's hair. He had really expected a more high voice from the boy, and it was probably from what he was wearing. He looked like if he had just a touch of makeup, he would look like a girl. A very pretty girl. Michael leaned his head into that touch, but there was no purring this time. He was enough of himself to feel embarrassed, and moved away again almost immediately, even though what he wanted to do was crawl back up into that lap.

"Now that you have eaten, perhaps we could have a few words..?" Jean-Claude's voice was like silk sliding down his spine, and he shuddered, nearly bitting the finger he had slipped into his mouth to suck that meaty flavor away. The burgers had been plain, and he felt like he needed a drink, but with so much in his stomach he really didn't want that heavy sloshing from water or anything else. It was the one thing about eating so much that actually made him sick; That addition of liquid, too light, moving around with every movement. "W-w-words..?" he sounded nervous, and bit down on the corner of his lip as he internally kicked himself. He didn't know any of these people except Yurick, and he had just met him. He had climbed into a stranger's lap and ******** LICKED him. He wasn't going to play the child this time, not without Ezzy there to hold his hand. His internal feelings were too precious to spend on people who wouldn't understand how important it was that he let them see that gooey center of him.

Planting a hand on the carpet he twisted, letting his upper body spin him around until his back faced the front of the couch, swinging his feet out and crossing them at the ankles, leaning back into the couch as he put elbows back on the couch coushion. His left elbow brushed that auburn haired boy who smelled so much like cat, and he glanced over, a look of bored curiosity, as if he wanted to look, but wasn't interested in what he would find. He looked back, hands pulled against his body so he could have touched over his ribs if he wanted, tilting his head to the side like a curious cat. He looked between the black haired woman and the black haired vampire. He could smell the man's scent everywhere in the room, and he felt like if he rolled around on the couch or one of the chairs, that he would leave smelling like him. He recognized both from the news, from newspapers. Anita Blake of animator's inc. and Jean-Claude, master vampire of the City of Saint Luis. He felt even more of a pig now, but he let a grin spread over his face.

"Well, for starters you can tell us why in the hell you were trying to rip into the entertainment." Anita put a hand on her hip, letting the other hang limp at her side. Michael had the courtesy to look embarrassed again, then he let his head fall back. He tried rubbing his ankles together, only to find that the leather stuck together, and didn't actually rub. He wanted some sort of hidden nervous action to vent his sudden seeping pit of squirmy discomfort, but he didn't have anything, so he stared at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing in the room, and it still wasn't entertaining. "Well, that'd be 'cause Ezzy didn't feed me, an then there was blood. Chicken blood, if I remember. But y'know." he shrugged. "Can't really keep human thoughts in my head when I'm hungry. Food kinda..." he waved a hand, searching for a word. "Sates me. Makes me calm an comfy. Y'know..like real animals. They're not as jumpy or pissy when they've fed, an I have two in my head." he tapped a finger on his temple, and realized he wasn't saying it right.

"I ain't like a lycanthrope though. Seperate. Ain't really anythin human in here. 'S just us animals." he smirked, letting his head come back up as he spread his hands out along the couch, as if he were doing the typical sneaky fingers thing in a movie theatre, only there were no people there for him to wrap his arms around, so he just pulled a knee up, foot flat on the floor as he crossed his legs at the knees. He moved like he was a cat, slow and graceful movements where there should have been something clumsy in it. Anita shook her head.

"Okay, okay...so, you're not a lycanthrope...are you a panwere?" There, she said it. Looks from around the room said they had been thinking it too, and they weren't surprised that Anita had been the one to ask it. Michael narrowed his eyes a moment, a look of thick thinking on him. He licked at the corner of his mouth, then pulled it in to bite thoughtfully on it, looking off to the side and away, but like he was seeing things in his head, rather than the actual room around him. "No...no..never heard of that. I don't know how to explain it...I'm just..Magic." he shrugged, switching his legs and crossing them again, slipping down so his shoulders pressed against the front of the couch instead of his back. He wasn't really aware that the skirt was riding up, and his legs crossed as they were made it look like he wasn't wearing anything beyond the boots, underneath the skirt.

He licked out over his bottom lip, moving his eyes back to Anita, pausing a moment as they caught on Jean-Claude. Something about that man's voice made him want to throw down and strip his clothes off, go dancing naked through the room. He wondered how good it got, and it was in his eyes for a moment before he moved on to the black haired woman. "Didn' catch it, anyways. I guess the best way ta say it is..it was always inside a me, from birth really. Just turned active when I was eight. I can get more stuff, but right now it's just panther an wolf." he looked around the room a minute, confused eyes, thinking eyes, empty eyes in the case of the black haired master vampire. Michael shrugged, turning his eyes away in a sulky teenager gesture, trying to relive the feeling of heat on his skin, as if it hurt to have everyone staring at him.

"wait wait wait..hold on.." Anita waved a hand, then pressed it to her forehead as if she were thinking hard enough that it was hurting her head. "okay..so..you're not a lycanthrope...so..Like the swans?" She turned to Jean-Claude, as if he could answer her question. He gave that gallic shrug that meant everything, and nothing. Great, he didn't know.

The swans were a group of shape shifters who weren't made, they were born. Every so often a king would be born, and he had honest to god feathers on him instead of hair. It was soft, and unnerving at the same time. Like sitting in a chair that's comfortable and familiar, only to realize the seat is upside down. Jean-Claude nodded his head, raising a hand to touch fingers at his chin in a gesture that was both empty of intent, and held a dark look, as if he were thinking things that were not for company. It made michael shiver and look away. The vampire laughed and the sound slid down his body like a smooth and firm hand, touching across his skin in all the right places. His thick and careless exterior melted under that touch, and a blush jumped across his cheeks again, making him drop his eyes and look away. "S-s-stop it, kay..?" he didn't sound much like he wanted him to, but there was that lilt, as if he were being fondled infront of people whom he would rather weren't there.

"Master, he's only fourteen today." Yurick spoke up from his place on the couch, and Michael scooted up, pulling himself up onto the couch. He wanted to pull his knees up too, but his mother was there in the back of his head reminding him that you don't put shoes on the furniture. He gave a hesitant glance at either of the two boys beside him, and he couldn't explain it. He didn't know them very well at all, but he wanted comfort, and they were the best he had. He felt that need to be petted, and held, and Nethaniel caught the glance, moving a hand to run fingers over Michael's arm. A light touch, a simple touch, but it made him relax a little. Yurick raised an eyebrow, and he moved in, scooting closer to hug the asian shape shifter.

"Only fourteen..?" Jean-Claude's voice was a little surprised, and he gave that wide slightly amused look, hands crossing over his chest. He reigned in his voice, as a thought passed over him. The boy was dressed like he would fall into the arms of any willing person, but the way he held himself, the complete lack of a knowing look as he had so innocently flashed his bare a** to the room, the blush on his cheeks. He was a virgin. Jean-Claude and Anita shared a look, and she shook her head. She didn't want to have him down here, not with so many people who would probably jump at the chance to make the boy react. The Circus of The Damned was not a place for virgins and children. No, it was hardly a place for full grown adults.

Anita walked forward, going to crouch in front of the boy. He didn't look so embarrassed now, and her tone took on a lilt that one would use on a child, as if they weren't quite old enough for adult conversation, and she needed to speak clear enough that he would understand. "Well..you're sorry, right?" she gave a small smile, resisting the urge to go all out and pat him on the hand. What surprised her was the sudden look of utter disdain in the boy. He looked at her as if she had asked him if he wanted to finger paint.

"I'm fourteen, not four. Yeah, I'm sorry. An I didn't know that would happen, or I prolly would have had somethin ta eat before we came. An please, don't take me wrong, you're nice an all, but I havn't been a child for a looong time now." his eyes were ever so slightly jaded. Not as jaded as she'd seen in Nethaniel when she had found him, or any number of others she could have counted off, but it was a look she hadn't really expected in someone so young. Wasn't there a rule that said 'you must be this tall' to have that look in your eyes? She was finding them hurt, younger and younger. She sighed, standing up, putting hands on her hips. "Alright, you don't want to be treated like a child. I can accept that. But you're still only fourteen. What do you expect?" she gave him irritated eyes. She was kind when she wanted, but the boy obviously wasn't feeling very receptive. She could do hard if he wanted it.

Jean-Claude moved forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Ma petite, perhaps he merely means you needn't try to spare his feelings. Boys do not appreciate being babied." he gave a smile, but it looked genuine. Michael nodded his head, chewing at the corner of his lip, looking as though if he did it long enough he would end up pulling bits off. Yurick moved forward, using his thumb to pull down on the boy's chin, making him let go of the bit of flesh, and it made the Asian shape shifter blush, hunching his shoulders as if he had been caught doing something more intimate.

"S-sorry...didn't mean ta be a little b*****d. Juss not used ta people care'n when I don't know 'em." he shook his head. He always ended up spilling words like a river when he was nervous. As if the jittery feeling fueled the movement of his jaws and lungs. He leaned into Yurick, then sat up again because it took him away from that warm scent of panther behind him. He chewed at the corner of his lip again, making Yurick roll his eyes and pull at Michael's bottom lip, dragging it out from between his teeth. "You keep doing that, and I'll just keep it." he had that thick unplacable accent again, and Michael's face went soft, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He really didn't think he would mind that, and it showed in his eyes, making Yurick raise his eyebrows.

"A fourteen year old gay Asian masochistic shape shifter. Bet nobody can say that four times fast." Yurick's eyes were thick with humor as Michael's face fell, blush spreading across his face again, thick as jam. He wanted to curl up suddenly, and he leaned back into Nethaniel, as if he would melt into the other boy and disappear. He suddenly froze, if froze was the proper term for sudden lack of thought, and utter relaxation of the limbs. It was painfully obvious that he had a pang of embarrassment surged through him like hot water. He felt that pulse of lust in him, with Yurick's fingers pinched on his lip. He wanted to pull on it, and he wanted to run away. That tearing between the two urges making his stomach flop, and he felt his heart in his throat.

"Fourteen, but hardly a child." Jean-Claude's voice was still normal, but there was amusement in his tone. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes shiny with humor as he looked down on the group on the couch. Nethaniel had gone still, as if he weren't sure what he was supposed to be doing, Michael's back pressed against him, the asian boy utterly still as Yurick gave him dark eyes.

"Oh, you are so not going to do this now. Not with a child." Anita's annoyed tone came as she strode back to them across the carpet, hand moving to go to Michael's arm. "Come on, you're going home." But he turned, his lip pulling painfully out of Yurick's grasp, and it only fueled the snarl in his throat. It was low, and neutral, his eyes slipping to that white-blue of wolf, as if she had threatened to take something from him, rather than her threatening to take him away. She paused, hand still on him, but not gripping. With a look of severe irritation on her face she pulled her hand back, slowly as if he were truly an animal that she had realized would bite her in mere moments. "Okay, okay. Not touching. But you have to go. Won't your parents-" michael laughed, loud and thick, a hateful sound that didn't fit his face.

"Naw, they don't care. They never care." all at once the laughter stopped, and he gave her those empty neutral eyes. He looked suddenly as if she had come around a tree in winter and spotted a wolf, that calm waiting that said what came next was her choice, and one of the options she wouldn't much like. Suddenly michael was air born, Yurick scooping him up off the couch. "Come on then. You don't want to go home, your parents as far as Ezzy tells me pretend you don't exists, and the conversation here seems to lead to unpleasantness." without permission he went to leave, and michael threw arms around his shoulders. As they passed Jason and a few of the other people in the room, Michael cast those blue eyes over them, more like he was just looking.

"And just where are you going, Yurick..?" Jean-Claude's cool voice floated through the room, and the vampire stopped a moment. "It's his birthday, and he hasn't had a great deal of fun. I'm going to take him and talk to him, as I was meant to when I was invited. I won't do anything immoral, if that is your concern." the brown haired vampire turned on his heel to move through a space in the cloth hanging around the walls, pushing down a corridor. It looked very much like he had gone from a well furnished house into a dungeon, or dark dark castle. Michael smelled old earth, and wet stone. It wasn't an entirely unfriendly smell, but it was certainly different.

Adding to himself with a murmur as they moved down the corridor and away from the sounds of suddenly speaking people Yurick said "Because doing anything he doesn't want me to would be wrong." he grinned, and michael raised eyebrows at him, that blush that had been fading now spreading across his cheeks again. He pressed his face into the brown haired vampire's shirt, clutching at him. His head was suddenly filled with ideas, things he wanted to do, and he wasn't sure where they were all coming from. He hadn't so much as read a naughty magazine before. Why was he suddenly thinking about pressing his lips against..No. He had to think cleaner thoughts. He had to concentrate on something else.

Yurick pushed open a door and went inside. The room wasn't very large, probably a little smaller than Michael's room back home, but it was decorated in a way that made it look much larger. A full length mirror along one wall, a bed dressed over in dark sheets and covers. Well, the covers were spilled along the floor, and somehow it made michael more comfortable. Posters hung on the walls from bands he had never even heard of, and shelves were filled with books. Michael didn't often admit it anymore, but he still loved so dearly to read. He had started letting his grades slip, but he still kept at them. Slowly he was losing that will to try and gain his mother back by getting into a good college. He had always thought maybe if he tried hard enough, she would accept him again, start being kinder.

Michael was brought back out of his thoughts as he was plopped down on the bed. Well, more as if hands were suddenly not supporting him anymore, and he bounced with a small girlish sound of surprise, eyes going wide as the bed tilted, and he rolled a little to his side as Yurick moved up over it. He found himself looking up at those caramel eyes, and there was something in them that he couldn't describe, and it was somehow exciting. That push of want, need, surged through him again and his breath caught in his throat. Yurick grinned, moving to put elbows on the bed, leaning his chin down on them. "Now, why ever do you look like a sheep who wants the wolf to eat it..?" the vampire grinned, pushing himself to move into Michael, hands going down on the bed as he moved, so slow.

Michael felt stunned, as if he couldn't have moved if he wanted. His eyelids dropped, and he suddenly felt more nervous than he had ever had in his life. Yurick was moving into him again, and he couldn't help remembering those teeth, wondering what they felt like against his skin. His heart beat in his chest like it would jump out and go running away, and he suddenly couldn't think. There was a jerking in his stomach, and things lower as lips brushed against his, and he tried not to make a sound, not to move.

Yurick grinned. Michael was just so cute. He licked lightly over those so smooth lips, pressing more firmly against the boy as a hand went to the asian's hair, fingers slipping into the strands against the boy's skull. Like he expected, Michael opened him, but he didn't do anything else. He wondered suddenly if the boy had ever even had a kiss before, and the thought made him want to laugh with joy. This was just too delicious for words. With a painfully slow movement, he pressed into the asian boy's mouth, tongue slipping in along his and it was like he suddenly snapped out of his still and quiet state.

A moan fell from his lips and he squirmed, gasping softly as he slid his tongue along the brown haired vampire's, as if he were feeling, testing the sensation. It was hot, and wet, and he thought he wouldn't be able to breathe with it, or he would fumble, but his movements were slow, calm, and michael followed them, eyes slipping closed as he pressed forward into the vampire. It was all at once the best thing he had ever felt, and somehow made him want more, made him hungry for more touches. He pressed up against the brown haired vampire, and his hands went around the boy's waist. The hand in his hair pulled, and he cried out, as if he had done something more involved, something greater.

Pulling back a bit to study michael's face Yurick gave his hair an experimental tug, and when the boy pulled his bottom lip into his mouth as if he had touched him much more private areas, he grinned wide. "Like that, huh?" michael nodded, each movement pulling at his hair, but he frowned in confusion as the hand at his hair moved. He blinked breathless, his eyes already glazed over with feeling as he gave Yurick those husky blue eyes. "what..? Why..?" he didn't understand why he had stopped, but that hand came back again, so fast as it wrapped around the tie in his hair, tearing it out.

He felt strands being plucked from his head with the harsh movement, and it sent chills down his body, making him moan and writhe, pain like a hot press against his skull, suddenly panting. Yurick dropped the hair tie, looking down at the squirming boy. "Like that too, huh?" he couldn't help the amused tone in his voice. Michael swallowed several times, licking over his lips before he could speak finally. A hot pulse behind that short and somehow tight skirt made him blush thick again.

"More." Michael breathed, a look of heavy need and expectation in his eyes, wrapped all up in that thick embarrassment.