Shave & Shimmer

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Shave & Shimmer Page 6

by Alex Carreras


  Inching back from the kiss, Ray asked, “What was that for?”

  “Does there have to be a reason?”

  “No.” This time Ray kissed Tory, melting under his touch. “Maybe we can be a little late for the ball. I have my most luxurious sheets on the bed, and these panels are removable you know.”

  Ray tapped Tory’s ass, heating his cheeks. “I plan on removing those lace beauties later, with my teeth.”

  Tory fanned himself with his hand. “You do say the sweetest things, Mister Williams.”

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this evening?” Ray asked, changing the subject. “If you’re having second thoughts, I can find another time to confront Obediah. I love that you want to be involved, it shows you have a good heart, but tonight could be dangerous, or at the very least, place your reputation at risk.”

  “Look what I’m wearing.” Tory spun like a supermodel and ended with a princely bow. “Do you think I give a damn about my reputation?”

  “What about your friends? There is a great chance they will be dragged into this.”

  “Please, Asher lives for drama and Jerrod, after much kvetching, always does what’s right in the end, which is confronting Obediah once and for all and exposing the louse for what and who he really is. At first, Jerrod was against getting involved with Niko and Alderman, but in the end, he helped shape the plan to run Alderman off.”

  “Wouldn’t it be awful if Alderman chose to return this very night?”

  “Bite your tongue. I can only deal with one psychopath at a time.” Tory raced to his hall closet and pulled out his favorite faux fur wrap — a must have for a cool Florida night — swinging it over his shoulder in a flourish. “Ready?”

  “I’m not sure if that’s the right word with the way I feel right now, but I’m going anyway.”

  “That’s my baby.”

  * * * *

  Ray drove his Cadillac Escalade through the ornate iron security gate and up the long and winding drive of Madame Anoushka’s. He tugged uncomfortably at his tie, which was starting to feel more like a noose than a necktie. Coming to a stop, he watched as an athletic looking valet jogged up to the vehicle. Ray’s stomach churned, and the beginnings of a headache started to pulse in his temples with the realization that he was on the threshold of confronting his mortal enemy. “Relax,” he coached himself as the valet jerked open his door and greeted them.

  Getting out and handing over the keys, Ray walked to the passenger side of the Escalade and opened the door, proffering a hand. “Have I told you that you look amazing?”

  “A few times but one more couldn’t hurt.” Tory puckered his lips, miming a kiss. He took Ray’s hand, stepping from the vehicle

  Ray chuckled. “Your friends are meeting us inside?”

  “Yes,” Tory confirmed. “Asher and Niko are in the Grand Ballroom now, and Jerrod will make a late entrance of course. He’s so predictable.”

  “I have a feeling that this night will be anything but predictable.”

  “It’ll be fine. I can feel it.” Tory smiled shakily.

  “What you feel is a breeze across your backside,” Ray teased, closing the door. “Not that I’m complaining about the view.”

  “Speaking of view, this place is magnificent.”

  Ray allowed his eyes to roam, taking it all in. The Spanish style mansion glowed in the near distance, music coming from every open window spilling out onto the expansive lawn dotted with sculptures from across the ages. Luxury cars lined the drive, their fresh wax gleaming in the moonlight. Palm trees rustled in the soft breeze blowing off the bay, carrying the scent of salt water and tropical flora. If this were any other night, Ray would have felt differently about the beautiful setting, but the mansion felt more like a mausoleum, and the whimsical piano music sounded like a death march.

  Ray felt Tory squeeze his right hand. He looked over and was greeted with confident eyes. “We will triumph tonight. I can feel it in my heart. And once and for all you will be released from this horrible torture you’ve had to endure for far too long.”

  Ray wondered if his eyes mirrored Tory’s. He highly doubted it. Ray returned the squeeze. “Thanks, babe. I’m sure you’re right. With the support of you, Asher, Niko, and the others how can anything go wrong?”

  Why did Tory feel like he was walking toward the gallows instead of the party of the year? He stole a sideways glance at Ray, before climbing the sweeping marble steps that led to a large veranda, the Grand Ballroom just steps beyond. The show of wealth was overwhelming; Tory’s beginning a humble one. He fought away the insecurity of his past reminding himself he wasn’t that poor boy whose family couldn’t afford to keep him in shoes or his belly full. That was a long time ago, and tonight he was well fed and fierce. Tory glanced at the crowd in all their finery searching for a familiar face. Passing from the veranda into the ballroom, the heat of the bodies and numerous burning candles bathed him in warmth.

  “Dudes.” It was Niko’s baritone that welcomed them first, Asher standing attentively by his side. “Glad to see you’ve made it. I was beginning to wonder if this was going down.”

  Ray released Tory’s hand to fist bump Niko’s. “Have you met Oliver Moore yet?”

  “No, bro, but the night’s still early, and this crib is jammin’.”

  Asher waved a polite hello. “I’ve never seen so many in attendance. Anoushka went all out. Isn’t that Harry Connick, Jr. at the piano?”

  Tory stood on his toes and craned his neck toward the far corner of the room. “If it isn’t, it’s his doppelganger. The resemblance is uncanny.”

  Asher continued the report. “I’ve seen other celebrities too, some dead and others very much alive . . . but that might change by sunrise.”

  “Usually does,” Tory added. “This ball certainly is alluring to our lifestyle. Hope all humans realize that not all vampires live this way.”

  Niko whistled. “You can say that again. I have to admit, I’d like to try it on for size.”

  Asher ran his hand along Niko’s muscular arm. “You have all you need right here.”

  “I know I do,” Niko returned, “but I wouldn’t mind getting my freak on in a place like this. This block must have more than fifty rooms. Think of the fun we’d have christening every one of them.”

  “Why don’t we find one that’s not in use and role-play?” Asher suggested. “Pretend you’re the lord of the manor and I’m your servant who’s been caught stealing the family silver and must pay for his crime.”

  “Later,” Tory interrupted. “There’s time for everything.” Tory stepped in close to Asher, whispering, “And, Asher, I don’t need to see how inventive your imagination is firsthand. You might want to keep your vivid fantasies when I’m not around.”

  “Don’t be a hater because you’re not as inventive as me,” Asher said. “But feel free to use that fantasy. You’d be surprised where master and servant can take you.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind, but so far we’re not having any issues in that department.”

  “Ladies.”

  The foursome turned to see Jerrod, his dark hair slicked from his broad forehead, looking elegant in a vintage tux and patent leather shoes that you could see your reflection in. “Hey,” they greeted.

  Tory looked over Jerrod’s shoulder. “Where’s your date?”

  “Is a date mandatory?” Jerrod’s sculpted left brow arched adding to his already regal air.

  “It’s just that we all have dates, so I expected you too.”

  “What do I say about having expectations?”

  “Not to have them?”

  “Give the twink a prize.”

  Asher shook his head and butted in. “The sad truth is he didn’t have anyone to ask. That’s why he attends these functions solo.”

  “You’re incorrect,” Jerrod retorted. “I come alone because that way I can meet more people, interesting people who have interesting conversations unlike this one.”

  As
her crossed his arms over his chest. He even released a grunt. “How can someone so handsome be so disagreeable?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” Tory asked.

  Jerrod gazed around. “Looks like quite the impressive crowd. I see statesmen, county officials, several notable actors —”

  “That’s all fine and good,” Tory interrupted, “but do you see Oliver Moore?”

  “I warned you about that business.” Jerrod’s steely gaze shot to Tory, then landed on Ray. “Ray, I’m truly sorry that you’ve suffered like you have, and I’m not suggesting that you shouldn’t face this Oliver person, but tonight is not the time or the place. Obviously, this vampire is well-connected, and you might bring on a lot of unwanted attention and trouble, not only for you, but also for us. Do you want to do that?” He paused, his stare softened. “I do believe it’s important to confront Oliver. If he did what you say he did, he needs to be called out on it. There might not be a lot the courts can do about it since it was so long ago, but at least you would get peace of mind . . . hopefully.”

  “This fell into my lap,” Ray explained. “I didn’t ask for this to happen. I moved to Sangre to get away from Obediah and his kind, and from out of nowhere, he’s here too. I’m not suspicious by nature, but something tells me that his appearance in my newly adopted home is more than sheer coincidence. You have to agree?”

  Jerrod cocked his head but remained silent, listening.

  “Look,” Ray continued, “the last thing I want is for any of you to get hurt, but the rest of the guys have chosen to get involved for whatever reason, and they know it could get messy. I need friends around me now, good people like these men standing by my side. And I would think that the citizens of Sangre would want to know what Obediah is like.”

  “All I’m saying,” Jerrod began, “is that time changes people, situations. Even vampires. If you do confront this being, allow him to tell his side before attacking him . . . that is, if it’s possible. If he makes the first move, then take him down and do it swiftly.”

  “That’s my plan,” Ray assured.

  “Good,” Jerrod returned. “Because it appears that your opportunity is about to knock, because I see the vampire in question walking up directly behind you.”

  Ray spun, almost losing his balance. He vaguely felt Tory’s hand on his arm trying to steady him. The sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears replaced the delicate strike of the piano keys. Very little existed except that face which was seared in his memory heading straight for him. Ray couldn’t react, not really. He just stood there with his mouth slightly ajar frozen to the floor.

  “Jerrod!” Oliver Moore extended his hand. “I thought you might be here. Can you believe that Anoushka is still in her dressing room? She’s decided to fashion her outfit after Marie Antoinette, powdered wig and all. You know they were once friends.”

  Jerrod took Oliver’s hand, shaking it. “I do recall her telling me that over coffee one day,” he said. “Poor girl. If Marie played her cards right, she could’ve been here tonight, eating cake.”

  “Speaking of cake, you must rush over to the dessert table before it’s gone. These revelers are vultures.”

  Jerrod turned, and there was a hint of a bow or a bend at the waist, Ray noted. “Allow me to introduce my friends.”

  One by one, Jerrod did the introductions as Oliver said a polite “hello” and “good evening” while shaking hands. Ray hesitated before accepting the hand that had destroyed his lover.

  There was a flicker of recognition in Oliver’s pale blue eyes, or was it Ray’s imagination? Ray went to speak, to say anything, but the words didn’t come. He was only capable of smiling tightly, nothing more. When Oliver walked away, the reality of Ray’s lack of action became a harsh one. “I’m fucking pathetic,” he cursed under his breath, punched his thigh with his fist. He felt eyes upon him. Anger rose up his spine and bled over his brain. “What’s the matter with me? After all this time I froze.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t say anything now,” Tory admitted. “It would’ve been awkward, and it fits perfectly into the plan. We have to draw him outside, get him to talk then.”

  “But how didn’t he recognize me? I–I–I don’t understand,” Ray stuttered. “It makes no sense.”

  Jerrod cleared his throat, calling attention. “This might sound unsympathetic but maybe killing James wasn’t as memorable for him as it was for you. Maybe when Oliver was still Obediah, he was a ruthless killer, took many lives, human and vampire alike.” Jerrod shrugged his shoulders. “It’s possible that he simply forgot.”

  “No. No way,” Ray huffed. “He loved James, turned James. Obediah was obsessed with him, and when James rejected him and chose me for a lover, he retaliated in the worst possible way.”

  “It was only a suggestion,” Jerrod said dismissively. “Something to think about.”

  “I don’t accept it.” Ray tried to control his temper. “That bastard knows who I am. I saw it in his eyes. That phony charming exterior is a total front. Deep down he’s as bad as they come, and no one is going to convince me otherwise.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ray didn’t mean to drink so much, but the waiter kept passing by with a silver tray full of brimming flutes of champagne. He wanted the alcohol to anesthetize his brain, but it had the reverse effect, fueling his anger instead. And when he tossed back his fifth or sixth, Ray had lost count, that’s when he saw Obediah walk out of the Grand Ballroom, across the veranda, and down the short flight of steps that led to a formal garden and beyond. This was his chance. Before Tory and the others could return from the dance floor, Ray made his decision. Time being of the essence, Ray sliced through the crowd. The cool air blasted his cheeks as he went outside. He wanted answers and was prepared to do anything to get them.

  Obediah ducked behind a topiary shaped like a pawn, the first in a seemingly endless row. He lit a cigarette and dragged slow and deep, gazing toward the water.

  “You know that smoking is bad for your health?”

  Obediah jerked his head around. His surprised chuckle sounded false. “We don’t have to worry over such trivial things, only enjoy life’s little pleasures.” He looked at the cigarette clenched between his fingers. “A bad habit that passed over from when I was living.”

  “You appear to be very much alive from where I’m standing.”

  “Ray, right?” Obediah questioned. “You’re friends with Jerrod.”

  “Correct, but we met long before tonight. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.” Ray dug his heels into the soft earth, standing his ground.

  “Do you work at Everlasting? I don’t remember seeing you there.”

  “But I remember seeing you. I was standing across the street.”

  Obediah’s brow furrowed. “Yes, well, there is a lively street life in Sangre.” He took a drag and blew out. He went to step away, but Ray caught him by the arm. “I’ve waited for this for far too long.”

  Obediah jerked his arm free from Ray’s grasp. “Excuse me.” The smile faded into a sneer. That was the face that Ray knew so well. “I’m tired of being polite, so I suggest you leave me to my cigarette and head back to the party.”

  “Do you? I have another suggestion.”

  “Well, I’m not interested in hearing it.”

  “Too fucking bad.” Ray stepped forward and pressed his face inches from Obediah’s. “James Dartmoor.”

  Obediah’s eyes narrowed as he took a wide step back. “I don’t know that person.”

  “Knew,” Ray corrected. “He’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry but—”

  “And he was killed by you, Obediah,” Ray interrupted.

  Obediah threw his cigarette to the ground. “You’d better leave if you know what’s good for you. I’ll make an excuse to your friends.”

  “I’ll do what I like when I like.” Ray was blind with fury. He knew he had made the change when he tasted blood. “Admit that you murdered James. I want you to say it.”<
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  Fangs bared, Obediah crouched and started to circle. “This is your last warning,” he growled. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”

  “I don’t believe your innocent act.” Ray mimicked Obediah’s stance, preparing to fight. “Say it!” he shouted. “Say his name!”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “So, you do remember.”

  “Of course I do. I loved James.”

  “So why did you kill him?” Ray bared his teeth, waiting for the answer.

  “Because he didn’t love me. He loved you.”

  “And you couldn’t handle it?”

  “No. No, I couldn’t.” Obediah’s body relaxed, his eyes appeared distant as if reliving an unpleasant memory. “Your love drove me insane, what you had. What I didn’t.”

  “So you took him away from me and ruined my life.”

  “I’m genuinely sorry.”

  “I don’t believe you!” Ray crept forward. “I don’t accept your apology.”

  “You don’t have to,” Obediah returned. “Every day of my eternal life I relive that terrible act I inflicted on the only man I’ve ever loved. When I close my eyes, I see James’s shocked face, feel his heart beating in my hand. If I could go back, I would never do what I did. Never.”

  “But you can’t so your admission is an empty one.”

  “There’s nothing I can do . . . I moved here to Sangre,” Obediah began to explain, “because I’m not the vengeful, jealous creature that I once was. I came here to have a new life. To repent. To forget. I left Obediah Monroe in the past. I’m Oliver Moore now.”

  “You didn’t come here to finish me off?”

  “I can understand how you would jump to that conclusion, but no. Tonight in the ballroom was the first that I’ve seen you since . . .”

 

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