Camino del Diablo, by Diamondback (NC-17)

[the-hobbet.livejournal.com]

Fandom: THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN
Pairing: Vin/Ezra, Buck/Chris
Author on LJ: diamondback158
Author Website: Supernatural stories
Why this must be read:

Every fandom must have a vampire AU and considering all the sexual subtexts in the vampire mythos, it has to be slash. Camino del Diablo fulfills the possibilities brilliantly.

Virtually overnight Four Corners became a ghost town and the Seven were turned. One hundred and twenty-five years later their relationships are still warped by the traumas of that experience. Now, they hunt their own kind, always searching for the obsessed vampire who set the deadly chain of events in motion and still holds Chris in limbo.

As the Seven travel towards what used to be Four Corners on their annual pilgimage -

• Archeologists begin excavations to explore the mysterious disappearance of Four Corners and the truth about the legend of the Magnificent Seven.


• Vampire hunters, having been told they have a chance at killing seven masters, an unheard of number to travel together, lie in wait.


• Chris's sire forms an unholy alliance in a plot to reclaim him.

Diamondback skillfully weaves multiple threads of the story together, moving back and forth between present day and the story of how the Seven were turned. Told with psychological intensity and breath-taking action Camino del Diablo mesmerizes the reader.

Taste test Camino del Diablo

"How do you feel?" Selvik repeated, asking the question again as if fishing for a specific answer.

Vin leaned in closer, lips parted, ready to nip at the bare chest in front of him, his fingers roaming over each nipple with a voracious appetite for texture alone, the sense of touch heightened and captured by the hard and soft sensation of peaked and rosy flesh.

Then that other scent touched his senses again, something rich and coppery and sweet. He sniffed the air, eyes rolling toward the source, which he realized must be behind him somewhere. Looking back at Selvik, who waited expectantly for an answer, Vin worked his mouth a bit, managed to produce some saliva to coat his parched tongue and whisper.

"Hungry..."

"But of course you are." Selvik caressed one cheek, then took the young one by the shoulders and began to steer him around to face the other direction. "And I have something for you."

Vin's vision darted across the humanoid shapes of Selvik's other children crouched back from the central scene in the cavern, their dark eyes watching with glee, faces pale and almost appearing to glow to his new eyes. Details like every little crease in the ragged clothing they wore, or the slightest sheen along their ghostly lips, stood out. He was almost distracted by this, but as he sniffed the air, he kept following that wonderful scent to its source and there on the floor found the huddled figure of a warm body.

The man had been dropped to his knees, his hands bound in front of him. He wore stirrup pants and boots, and his dirtied white shirt, lined with frills at the collar, had been torn open, exposing a bare chest taut with muscle, and a hardened stomach. The candlelight haloed soft brown hair and danced over the more prominent planes of a soft face patched with bruises and cuts. Other bruises were visible through the part at the front of his shirt, and he looked up with distressed, liquid green eyes. Clutches of the slave brood gathered around him from behind, holding him in place, forcing his head up to watch. Compared to them, his flushed complexion beamed back at Vin, and it seemed the infant vampire could make out the lustrous threads of red veins beneath the skin, down the sides of the neck. They pulsed, emanating an ethereal flame along the edges of each tiny crimson river... beckoning... and Vin took an impassioned step closer, sighing at the realization of what he needed and that it was right here, provided for him.

But there was something wrong.

"Vin..." the captive husked out as he focused.

Vin stopped, frowning as the name, his name, stirred him, the soft drawl in the voice familiar. He padded closer, smelling the air as he went, sorting out the dustier smell of the slaves from this creature, warm and rosy and ripe for tasting. Dropping to his knees before the man, he reached up, took that handsome—almost pretty—face between his hands and stared into the eyes, reading the shock and fear there, smelling it too, as piquant as piss and vinegar.

"No..." the other whispered. “Oh, God, no... Vin..."

Tears swelled up in those jade eyes, and something in Vin struggled to remember exactly what it was about this man. He had to fight past his own hunger, his lips parted and desperate, to understand why he hesitated.

Ezra.

Camino del Diablo