“They say, ten minutes at the outside,” Thorin replied. “It’s never been tested.”
“I’d say it’s a moot point because, if Estebe adheres to Raúl’s plan, the attacker, or attackers, will hit at night.” Andre drummed his fingers on the desk. “Of course the doormen will know what they are and won’t let them…Oh, fuck.”
Sand nodded. “Exactly. They teleport in and that’s all she wrote. I’m surprised a werewolf hasn’t tried it already.”
“So they can avoid the cover charge?” Andre asked with a brief smile. He was kidding, but he knew Sand had a point. “Our people would know immediately what they were and escort them off the premises.”
“That’s fine, if it’s only one or two who want to check out the infamous vampire club,” Sand replied. “But Estebe and whoever he brought with him would start firing the second they landed, and they wouldn’t care if a few humans died in the process. Shoot to kill then teleport out in the ensuing panic. It would only take a couple of minutes to do maximum damage.”
“Don’t you think at least a few people would notice when they did?” Andre asked, and immediately shook his head, negating his question. “If they did, who would believe them? The cops would think it was their imagination working overtime, trying to explain how a killer, or killers, managed to get past the doormen with weapons.”
“Got it in one.” Sand stood and began to pace. “So, how can you keep that from happening? The attack, I mean.”
“Hell if I know,” Thorin replied in exasperation. “You tell me. You’re the expert on werewolves.”
Sand snorted. “I may be one, but I’m hardly an expert when it comes to dealing with something like this.”
“Close the club until we come up with an answer,” Andre said. “Say it’s for…renovations, but close it after tonight.”
Thorin looked as if he was going to tell Andre to forget it. Then, with a sigh, he agreed. “We’d better come up with something quickly, however.”
Sand stopped pacing, looking at the pair of vampires. “How old are you?”
“I’ve been a vampire for two-hundred and fifty-three years, if that’s what you’re asking,” Andre replied. “In our way of reckoning things, I’m barely Middle-aged.”
“I’m an Old one,” Thorin said. “I was born during the reign of Otto the First, the first Holy Roman Emperor.”
“That tells me nothing,” Sand replied dryly.
Andre chuckled. “He’s one thousand and fifty-four.”
“Whew.”
“How old are you?” Andre asked him.
“Twenty-five,” Sand replied without blinking an eye.
“On your driver’s license, perhaps. How old in actuality?”
“Almost seventy. Raúl was three when I was born. My father was close to two-hundred when he died.”
“Died, or was killed?” Andre was aware that he knew less than he probably should about werewolves, but he was under the impression they were close to immortal and said so.
Sand quickly corrected him. “In general we live three to four times as long as humans, thanks to our regenerating each time we shift. But, we reach a point when even that doesn’t stop the aging process. We may continue to look much younger than our real age, but eventually we will die.” He smiled dryly. “If we aren’t killed first, which happens more often than you might think, like when two werewolves battle to become a pack’s Alpha. Sometimes the fight is to the death.”
“So Estebe is what, around seventy, too, real age?” Andre asked.
“Seventy-one, if I remember correctly. I think he was a year or two younger than Raúl. From what I’ve heard, he did his damnedest to become the Alpha when my father died, but Raúl was faster and stronger.”
“Too bad he didn’t kill Estebe during their battle,” Thorin muttered.
“No shit.”
* * * *
“Now that we’ve shared our ages,” Thorin said, “Is there a reason you wanted to know, Sand?”
“Yes. It’s my understanding that as a vampire ages he gains abilities that are useful for attack and defensive purposes.”
“True,” Thorin replied. “I, for one can control certain aspects of the weather, and I have what’s known as the killing gift.”
“Because I’m Thorin’s Child,” Andre said, “I have the killing gift, too. Unfortunately I’m not old enough to do more than paralyze an enemy and inflict minor wounds.”
“You know this for a fact?” Sand asked.
“Yes. I’m one of Thorin’s enforcers when needs be, so I’ve had to deal with people who want to cause trouble for him and the club.”
“People as in humans?”
Andre nodded. “And the occasional rogue vampire.”
“Okay.” Sand walked to the window, stared out for a moment, then turned to them. “What if we made a preemptive strike on Estebe and his followers, on the pack’s lands? Are there other vampires you can bring in who are around your age, Thorin, and have abilities that would help us?”
Thorin didn’t reply immediately. Instead he looked intently at Andre. Sand was quite certain they were discussing his suggestion via mind speak, which didn’t really surprise him. Despite the fact they seemed to trust him, he was, after all, one of the enemy because he was a werewolf. He’d done what he could to prove he was an ally—but them thinking he was, and them believing it, were two different things.
Finally, Thorin nodded. “Your idea has merit, Sand. It would take some planning and we’d need to separate Estebe and his cronies from the rest of the pack. We may hold no love for werewolves but I’m still loath to kill innocents if we can help it. There are three vampires my age, or close to it, that I would trust to restrain their urges to kill every werewolf in sight, if for no other reason than, like me, they wouldn’t want to start an all-out war between our species.”
“Good to know,” Sand replied dryly. “Most of the Wintermane pack would be innocents. From what Dimas—” He took a deep breath, reining in his sorrow again. “From what he told me, Raúl had a problem getting even his most loyal Betas to agree to his plan, ending up with only a couple who were willing to help him. I would guess that Estebe will have the same problem.” He smiled grimly. “The opinion the majority vampires hold of us to the contrary, werewolves are not bloodthirsty creatures who will kill without provocation or remorse.”
“The same holds true for us,” Andre replied. “We will defend ourselves to the death against an enemy, but it’s the rare vampire who will attack a werewolf without cause.”
“I would hope so.”
“If you will give me a moment, or several I suppose,” Thorin said, standing, “I need to make the announcement that the club will be closed, starting tomorrow, and have one of my people make signs for the door and put the information up on our website.”
“And your pages on social websites,” Sand reminded him, getting an eye-roll in reply before Thorin left.
“How are you doing?” Andre asked softly when Sand dropped heavily into the chair next to him, burying his face in his hands.
“I’ll survive, which is more than Dimas did,” Sand replied dismally.
“Yes, you will.” Andre stroked Sand’s bowed shoulders. “His death is not your fault. He wanted to stop the insanity as much as you do, and from what you told me, he volunteered to learn what he could. We may never know how Estebe found out, but do not take the blame. It will weaken you when we need your strength.”
Sand straightened, looking at Andre, and nodded. “I know you’re right but it’s hard. He was the only friend I had when I left…was kicked out of the pack.” He sighed. “I haven’t made any true friends since then. Not that I want to, since everyone I know is human. If they even suspected there’s something different about me…Well, you know about that I’m sure.”
“Yes. We move on before their suspicions are confirmed.” Andre took Sand’s hands in his. “You do have friends now—me and Thorin.”
“Thorin tolerates me,
because of you,” Sand said. “I’m not so sure he’ll ever move beyond that.”
Before Andre could reply, if he was going to, Thorin returned.
“I’ve talked with the three friends I mentioned. One is adamant that he won’t help us. He was honest enough to explain that he wasn’t certain he could rein in his distrust of werewolves enough to only deal with Estebe and his minions.”
“Minions?” Sand frowned. “That’s a vampire term, not one we use.”
“Minion: A follower or underling of a powerful person, especially a servile or unimportant one,” Thorin retorted with a brief smile. “I believe that fits the Betas who are aligned with Estebe.”
“He gets pedantic at times,” Andre whispered to Sand.
“When necessary,” Thorin retorted, although he didn’t seem to mind what Andre had said.
“Then it will be five of us against Estebe and who knows how many of his loyal Betas,” Sand said.
“We will, once we draw them away from the rest of the pack, which may be difficult,” Andre said.
“Perhaps not,” Thorin replied. “If I were to contact him, telling him I wanted to meet at some neutral spot to discuss the ‘present’ he left me and why he did that.”
“He’ll suspect a trap,” Sand pointed out.
“Of course he will, and he’ll come with back-up. However, if we’re correct, that will consist of his most loyal Betas and nothing more. He’ll want to prove to the pack that he’s more than capable of dealing with a few puny vampires without their help.”
“If you’re wrong, we could be in big trouble,” Andre said.
“If I am, we’ll abort and try something else,” Thorin replied.
“How will you explain that you know he was responsible for Dimas’ murder?” Sand asked.
Thorin lifted an eyebrow. “Because you told me it had to be him. That Dimas was part of the Wintermane pack.”
“No,” Andre protested. “That puts Sand dead in his sights.”
“Which might be an added impetus to draw him to us,” Sand said. He tapped a finger to his lips then nodded. “Yes, that could work.”
Andre frowned at him. “Do I want to know what?”
“Thorin offers to bring me with him, as a show of good faith.”
“Are you insane?” Andre spat out.
Sand shrugged. “I’m going to be there, anyway. If he sees me with Thorin, it could be the distraction we need to keep him from focusing on who might be hiding, waiting to attack. He hates me, Andre, because of what I am. He wanted my father to kill me, rather than merely ousting me from the pack.”
“Which makes it all the more dangerous for you to be at Thorin’s side,” Andre replied, his hands clenching.
“I believe he’s quite able to get away if it looks like he’s in trouble,” Thorin said. “I think Sand’s idea is viable. We’ll need to work out the details, but not until tomorrow evening when my friends have arrived.”
“Why aren’t they here, now?” Sand asked.
“They have to get permission from their respective Kings to be involved. That takes time,” Thorin told him.
“What about you? Do you need your King’s permission?”
Thorin smiled. “I have it, as I am the King of the vampires here in the city.”
“You’re shitting me! Why didn’t someone tell me?”
“Because you never asked?” Andre replied with a grin.
Sand was tempted to smack him, thought better of it, and said, “There’s one problem. I work tomorrow night.” When Thorin asked where, Sand told him.
“I think…Yes. I’m going to need a security guard in the evenings while the club is closed. I’ll give your boss a call and ask for you, specifically, Sand, as I’ve heard good things about your diligence.”
“He already has me assigned to another place.”
“I’m sure, with the proper monetary inducement, he will change his mind.”
“Probably,” Sand replied dryly.
“Then we’ll plan on meeting here tomorrow evening,” Thorin said. “Now, unless there’s something else we have to discuss, I need to talk with my other employees about the closure and what I expect of them.”
“I’m good,” Sand told him, and Andre nodded.
When Thorin was gone, Andre said, “I think you should get away from all this for a while. Come home with me.”
Sand grinned. “You do know you’re part of ‘all this’.”
“Yes, but…”
“I was teasing. I’d like to see what your palatial home is like.”
“Hardly palatial. My car is still parked in the valet lot since we’ve been using other means of transportation.”
“Then let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 6
“This isn’t a car, it’s a chariot,” Sand said in awe when he saw Andre’s McLaren Spider.
Andre laughed. “It does the job of getting me from A to B. Maybe a bit flashier than some of the other cars on the road, but where’s the fun in owning something you’re not proud of?”
“Good point, says the guy whose preferred vehicle is a twelve-year-old jeep,” Sand replied ruefully as they got into the car.
“I suspect you go into the mountains fairly often so that makes sense.”
“I do, when I can. Especially on the night of the full moon when I have to let my werewolf out.”
“Do you at other times?” Andre asked. “Let it out, I mean.”
“Of course. It’s half of what I am. Or, I suppose, it’s all of what I am but I spend most of my time in my human form to survive in the world.” Sand chuckled. “Besides, I like my human comforts, like a warm bed and food I don’t have to kill first.”
“Speaking of which, do you mind if we make a stop?”
Sand side-eyed him. “Feeding time?”
“Yes. I only have to do it once a week or so, and it’s been that long.”
“Go for it. Maybe near a fast-food joint so I can pick up some burgers and fries?”
“On it.”
They did both, with Andre walking away into the darkness. He returned to the car at the same time as Sand, who had a large carryout bag and was munching on a burger.
“Get any grease on the upholstery and you’re in trouble,” Andre muttered.
Sand got the message, downed the last bite, and wiped his hands on a paper napkin before getting into the car.
A few minutes later, they had parked in the garage of Andre’s building and gone up to the twelfth floor. When they were in front of the door to his condo, Andre held up a hand, letting Sand know he was to wait before entering. He disarmed the security, then paused as he always did, listening for anything that might mean he had unwanted company. Deeming it safe, he beckoned for Sand to join him and led the way into the living room.
“Impressive,” Sand said, looking around. “Yours or are you renting?”
“Mine, lock, stock, and barrel.” Andre crossed to the bar. “I have wine, if you’d like some.” When Sand wrinkled his nose, Andre rolled his eyes. “Beer? Coffee?”
“Beer sounds good. Do I get shot if I eat on the coffee table rather than your fancy dining one?”
“Nope.” Andre poured a glass of wine and took a can of beer from the fridge under the bar, which he gave to Sand before settling at the other end of the sofa.
Sand finished the remaining three burgers in the bag, and a super-sized order of fries, then sighed contentedly. “I needed that.” He put the wrappers in the bag and took it to the trash container beside the sink in the kitchen. When he came back, he asked, “Do you ever use the kitchen?”
Andre waggled a hand. “Yes, if I have a human guest.”
“Thorin said that happens…occasionally.”
“Really?”
Sand shrugged. “He was prying, sort of, and said something about the human men you bring home. I, umm, reacted, and he assured me it didn’t happen often.”
“Jealous?” Andre asked, one eyebrow arched.
&nbs
p; “Hell, no. It’s not like you and I are a couple. It takes more than a night of good sex to make that happen.”
“What about two nights?”
Smiling slowly, Sand replied, “To take my mind off what happened today, and what we’re planning?”
“Would it work?”
“It’s worth a try.” Sand pulled Andre to him, sealing their mouths together in a kiss which turned fiery within seconds. When he reached for the front of Andre’s shirt after they broke apart, Andre grabbed his wrists. “Either unbutton it the way you should, or let me. Losing one shirt was more than enough.”
Sand grinned. “I think I can do that.” He did, very slowly, teasing his fingers over every inch of Andre’s skin as it was exposed. When he finished, he eased the shirt off his lover’s shoulders and sat back to admire the view.
“My turn,” Andre said. His job was easier, and faster. All he had to do was pull Sand’s T-shirt over his head and off his arms, before tossing it onto a nearby chair. “You got a mighty nice body there, mister,” he drawled in a bad imitation of a cowboy.
Sand snorted. “You’ve been watching Westerns, I take it.”
“Yep. Now let’s see if the bottom is still as spectacular at the top.” Andre stood and pulled Sand to his feet. It took no time at all for him to undo the fastenings on Sand’s jeans and push them and his briefs down to reveal his rapidly hardening cock. “Definitely a keeper,” he said, stroking it.
“No fair. You’re still half dressed,” Sand complained.
Andre made quick work of solving that problem, including toeing off his shoes. Sand sat long enough to get rid of his shoes and socks, and Andre’s socks when he lifted his feet, one at a time.
“Now, we’re ready,” Sand said, getting up again. “Which way?”
Putting his hands on Sand’s shoulders, Andre steered him into the bedroom, and then turned him so they could kiss, arms wrapped around each other. Sand moved his hips, rubbing their cocks together, which elicited a deep groan from Andre.
“Bed, now,” Sand said, backing Andre to it. They ended up sprawled across it, still wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Not exactly dignified,” Andre said with a laugh before instigating another heated, mouth-probing, kiss.
Unnatural Allies Page 5
