by J. P. Bowie
Joseph called me early next morning. “Hi,” I cried, happy to hear his voice. “Are you on your way back?”
His husky laughter made me tingle. “Not yet, but I will see you tomorrow, as planned.”
“Can I meet you at the airport?”
“Thank you, Micah, that is a very sweet offer, but Marcus is sending a limo for me. I have to meet with him as soon as I arrive—a business deal I’m negotiating for him—but it should not take too long. I should be at your apartment around seven, if that’s all right?”
“It certainly is. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I understand you and Roger went to the movies.”
“Yeah…” I chuckled. “I slept right through the dumb thing, but we had a nice time. We caught up with Ron and Jean-Claude later at Ron’s restaurant.”
“That’s nice. How did Roger seem to you?”
“A bit hyper but okay, really.”
“Good. He’s gradually getting better.”
“He told me Marcus saved his life, giving him blood. An then, Joseph…he said
something strange.”
“Oh, yes?”
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“Yeah, when I said it was lucky they were both the same blood type, he said, ‘Now we are’. What d’you suppose he meant by that?”
“A slip of the tongue, I expect,” Joseph replied, after a moment. “Or perhaps he meant they are now joined in blood, making them even closer than before.”
“Mmm…could be. And of course, you would find the romantic thing to say,” I teased him.
“But, of course,” he chuckled. “Just as I will find many romantic things to say to you when we are alone together again.”
“I can’t wait for tomorrow night.”
“Nor I. We will make it a very special night, Micah.”
I felt my toes curl with anticipation. “Oh, yeah…”
“I must go now,” he said. “You have a wonderful day—and I will see you tomorrow
evening. Au revoir, mon cher Micah.”
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Chapter Seven
Joseph’s call put me in the greatest of moods for the rest of the day. I was even nice to Jesse at work, although he didn’t seem to notice—a total space cadet. However, the day took a decided downturn when I came home from work.
Robert was waiting for me outside my apartment building.
“Hi, Robert.” I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. What the heck did he want?
“Hi…” He looked at me for so long without saying anything that I started to wonder if he’d forgotten who I was.
“Robert, what’s wrong?”
“Micah. I…I want to come back.” He looked like he was about to burst into tears at any moment.
I stared at him in complete shock. The words I had once longed to hear him say clanged in my head like the bells of doom.
“C…come back?” I stuttered. “No…no you can’t.”
“What?”
“I’m seeing someone else. I told you that.”
His tear-filled eyes turned hostile. “Is he living with you?”
“No, he’s out of town until tomorrow night.”
“Okay, let’s go inside and talk about this.”
“No. I don’t want to talk about it, Robert. You walked out on me for someone else. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you, but that’s not my fault. You made a choice. Now you have to live with it.”
“Micah, for God’s sake, do we have to talk about this on the sidewalk? At least have the decency to ask me in so the whole world doesn’t have to hear you humiliate me.”
“I am not trying to humiliate you. I just don’t want to discuss this anymore.”
“So, all that time we spent together means nothing to you?” he rasped.
I gazed at the face that at one time I had adored above all else. Once, I had loved this man more than I had loved anyone. Without him, I had considered myself less than whole—
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nothing more than a cipher. How crazy was that? I stared at his puffy eyes and scowling expression and realised with astounding clarity that where there had been love, now there wasn’t even like.
“Robert,” I said evenly. “The time we spent together means as much to me as it did to you on the night you walked out on me. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I stepped back as my upstairs neighbour, Rhonda, came down the steps from the front door.
Now I might have forgotten to mention that Rhonda is a six-four, built-like-a-stevedore, black drag queen. Usually he’s decked out in designer chic and skyscraper high heels. This night though, he was modestly attired in a pair of very tight jeans and a tee shirt that ended just below his massive pecs, showing off a six-pack under satin mocha skin.
“You bastard!” Robert screamed at me, ignoring Rhonda’s considerable presence. “How could you do this to me?’
“Ooooh…” Rhonda’s eyes did a three-sixty-degree roll as he stared at Robert. “Did someone get a taste of his own medicine?”
“Shut up, you queen,” Robert yelled at him. “Mind your own fucking business.”
“Honey, it is very much my business.” Rhonda fixed Robert with a look of disdain only a true queen can carry off.
“When you flounced outta here, you broke this child’s heart—and I was there to pick up the pieces and make sure he didn’t commit suicide…although why he would want to over a piece o’ shit like you was beyond me. He was well rid of you, and I told him just that.
He didn’t believe me at the time, but thank Jesus he has seen the light. Now he has a very fine new beau—a hot looker and a real gentleman who puts the likes of you to shame.”
Rhonda looked over at me. “Was he plannin’ on movin’ back in, honey?”
Robert’s face was the colour of eggplant. “I said, mind your own fucking business, bitch!”
“And you mind your manners, shit head.” Rhonda turned back to me. “Well?”
I shrugged, quite enjoying the moment. “He wants to, but I said no.”
“Good for you, honey.” Rhonda waved a dismissive hand at Robert. “So go, ass
wipe…and bother us no more.”
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Robert snarled and reached for me, ready to punch the living daylights out of me—but instead he ran into Rhonda’s solid frame as he put himself between my onetime boyfriend and me.
“Oof…” Robert staggered back, a look of shock on his face.
“Honey…” Rhonda drew himself up to his totally impressive and intimidating height.
“If you don’t want that usually pretty, but right now not-so-hot face of yours, to meet the sidewalk, I would rethink what you have in mind at the moment. Go away, Robert,” he growled, “and don’t come back.”
For a second, I thought Robert was going to lose all reason and launch himself at Rhonda. Then, I guess the thought of Rhonda’s massive fist connecting with his jaw gave Robert pause. With a final glare of hatred at me, he spun on his heel and flounced off at a rate of knots, Rhonda’s raucous laughter ringing in his ears.
“Thanks, Rhonda,” I said, hugging his huge body.
He patted me on my head. “There, there, honey. You got to see the real Robert, and now you can wipe him from your mind like the worthless piece of…yeah…that he is.
Where’s that fine lookin’ man of yours anyway? I haven’t seen him come a-callin’ lately.”
“He’s in Europe, but he’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Praise Jesus! These walls will be rockin’ tomorrow night!” He kissed me on the
forehead. “Well, you take care, honey. I’ll see you later.”
I grinned as I watched him sashay up the street. Thank you, Rhonda!
Friday night, I was practically shaking with excitement at the thought of se
eing Joseph again. I had run around the apartment, making sure everything was clean and shiny and in its proper place. I left myself for last—standing in the shower under the scalding hot spray, making sure I, too, was clean and shiny—and smelling good.
I had a wild idea of answering his knock at my door, totally naked. But, on reflection, I figured that might be a little too cheesy, so I picked out a skimpy sports shirt, made for easy access, and cargo shorts—no briefs. Thank God I did, for when I answered the knock at my DUET IN BLOOD
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door, it wasn’t Joseph standing there looking all hunky and smiley—it was Ron and Jean-Claude, both looking decidedly grim.
“Hey guys…” I looked from one to the other. “What’s up?”
“Can we both come in?” Ron asked.
“No,” I kidded. “You have to leave Jean-Claude outside. Why are you asking? Of
course, you can come in.” They walked into my living room and stood awkwardly staring at me.
Something was very wrong.
“Is it Joseph?” My voice had become a wobbly squeak.
Jean-Claude took my arm. “Sit down, Micah.” I gazed into his dark blue eyes and, feeling suddenly weak at the knees, sat down.
“Marcus called us a little while ago,” he began. “You know Joseph had a meeting with him when he arrived back from Europe?”
I nodded and whispered, “Yes…”
“The limo driver reported to Marcus that Joseph did not get off the plane.”
“Oh, Jesus…”
“Marcus immediately called the airline and was informed that no one named Joseph Meyer boarded the plane in Paris. I’m afraid Joseph is missing, Micah. Marcus has repeatedly called his cell phone, left messages…but with no results.”
I stared at him silently, trying to fathom what this meant. Joseph was missing… missing.
What did that mean? Had he been in an accident? Was he, even as we sat here doing nothing, lying in some foreign hospital fighting for his life? Oh, dear God!
“Micah?” Ron sat by me and took my hand.
“Could he be in a hospital?” I asked, weakly.
“Marcus has called every hospital in Paris. He’s still checking, of course, with the…uh…authorities.”
I felt numb. Every part of me seemed to stop functioning. I couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. I was aware of Ron putting his arms around me and saying something. I didn’t hear a word. All I kept thinking was how unfair life could be. Just when I thought I had met the one man I could love for the rest of my life, he was taken from me—and no one knew how, DUET IN BLOOD
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or where, or why. The thought that something terrible could have happened to this sweet man filled me with dread. I bowed my head to Ron’s shoulders and sobbed my heart out.
The days that followed with no news of Joseph seemed interminable. In order to retain my sanity, I went to work every day and, in front of everyone there, put myself through the motions of everyday life. Every night when I got home, I would run to the answering machine, hoping—praying—that there would be a message from Joseph or from someone who knew him to tell me he was all right and would be in Los Angeles any day now.
Roger called me several times and even came over to my apartment at my invitation.
We got drunk together one night, me on beer, and him on the expensive red wine I had bought for Joseph’s return from Europe. He was sweet and caring, and even in my drunken state, I could sense there was something more he wanted to tell me—something really important.
“What is it, Roger? What’s the big secret everyone’s keeping from me?”
He gave me a wide-eyed look of innocence. “There’s no shecret…” He was quite a bit drunker than me, I realised.
Hmm…just the right prodding and I might get to hear all. I poured him another glass of wine. “Go on, you can tell me. I swear I’ll never repeat it or say you told me.”
“Okay…” He took a big gulp of his wine. His eyes were bright with the effect of the alcohol, and he looked like an errant schoolboy about to divulge the goods about his fellow playmates. Then he seemed to sag in the chair and hiccupped loudly.
“Shorry, I can’t… Marcus is really pished at me right now.”
“How do you know that?”
“He jush told me sho…”
“Huh?” I gaped at him.
“I mean, he will tell me when I get home. Oooh, he’s goin’ to be sho mad at me.”
He was a lot drunker than I thought. “I better see you home tonight,” I said.
“No, no…jush pour me into a cabbie, and I’ll be fine.”
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“Roger, in the state you’re in you couldn’t make it to a cab. Maybe you should stay the night.”
“That’sh nice of you, Micah.”
There was a sudden knocking at my door. “Micah, it’s Marcus. May I come in?”
Marcus. I ran to the door and swung it open. “Of course, Marcus. Come on in. I’m afraid Roger’s had one too many.”
Roger looked up at his lover with a bleary expression. “Oh, ho there,” he said, giggling.
“Did you come to fly me home?”
“Roger…” Marcus knelt by his side and stroked his hair. “You know you shouldn’t be drinking so much yet.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “He came over to make me feel better, and I’m afraid I offered him too much wine.”
Marcus looked up at me with an unreadable expression. I felt anger flicker at me from his eyes, but his voice was steady as he said, “That’s all right.”
“I didn’t tell him anything, I swear,” Roger babbled, clutching at Marcus’ arm.
“Hush…”
Marcus picked him up in his arms as though he weighed nothing at all. Wow, I thought, he’s way strong.
“I’ll just take him home now, if you don’t mind.”
“You have a car outside?”
“No, I’ll get a cab. Thank you for offering to let Roger stay the night.”
“That’s okay,” I mumbled.
“Nighty-night…” Roger gave me a little wave as Marcus carried him out. I closed the door behind them and stood for a moment thinking hard. How had Marcus known that I had offered Roger a bed for the night? Had he heard me through the door? And how did he manage to just show up right then? I opened the sliding glass door that led out to the tiny balcony where I kept a couple of potted plants. Marcus and Roger should be just about coming out onto the sidewalk, I thought, hoping they didn’t have too long to wait for a cab.
I saw a shadow fall across the sidewalk below me, cast by the light from the apartment building doorway. Then the shadow vanished—and there was no sign of Marcus and Roger waiting for a cab. Where the heck had they gone? I stood on tiptoe, straining over the balcony DUET IN BLOOD
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rail, thinking they might still be on the steps…but no. They were gone, as surely as though they had disappeared into thin air.
I couldn’t sleep that night, or the next. So many things seemed strange to me, and there were feelings of unease that I couldn’t shake off, no matter how I tried to rationalise them.
Joseph’s disappearance, of course, was foremost in my mind, but there were other things—
like Marcus suddenly appearing at my door, as if he knew Roger was in a weakened state about to divulge facts he should not, then, the way they had just suddenly not been there anymore. They had to have walked out onto the sidewalk to pick up a cab. Why then hadn’t I seen them leave? It just didn’t make any sense. I thought back to the night at Marcus and Roger’s dinner party…Ron’s weird behaviour, that strange undercurrent of tension I’d felt from him, the warning looks I’d seen pass from one guest to another on occasion.
What did it all mean, if anything? Was the shock of Joseph’s disappearance making my imagination go a little more c
razy than usual? Or was I right in thinking that all of them were keeping something from me, some secret that if I ever found it out would make me think less of them?
Thoughts of Joseph kept me awake into the wee small hours, until I finally gave up, getting out of bed to make myself a cup of coffee. It was still dark outside as turned on the TV. As I watched the early morning news, I started to think it was strange that in the days since Joseph’s disappearance, not one mention of it had been made on the TV news or in the newspapers. Okay, he wasn’t a well-known, prominent figure, but someone with a plane reservation not showing up for a flight caused big delays at the airport these days. And his subsequent disappearance should have at least made it into the international news section of the newspaper. I had looked and found nothing.
How does someone just vanish off the face of the earth? It happens a lot, I know, but usually because they want to disappear, for reasons generally known only to themselves.
Now, I could have gotten all big-headed and reckoned that, with me waiting for him in LA, there was no reason at all for him to run away into obscurity. Yet, a part of me truly felt that DUET IN BLOOD
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he couldn’t wait to see me again—he’d said so, for crying out loud. He’d sounded so happy to be coming back.
I felt my eyes well up with tears…
Oh, Joseph…where the hell are you? How could this have happened? Please, if you’re alive, please find a way to let me know. I love you, Joseph. I love you.
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Chapter Eight
Joseph
I lay helpless in the cell into which they had thrown me, the silver chains they had used to bind me, chaffing my skin. They knew ordinary chains would not hold me. Not now, after those who had saved me from them had made my vampire blood stronger than ever before.
Still, their cunning had been formidable. I thought them long dead—incinerated in the conflagration Marcus had brought upon their heads those long years ago.
