Long Black Cadillac

by BA Tortuga

  He hoped.

  His cell phone rang, startling him enough that Vance sat straight up, snarling. “Remy.”

  “Shhh. Yeah. Remy.” He stopped pacing and went to sit, stroking Vance’s thigh. “Hey, babe. Thought you mighta run away.”

  “No, boss. There’s one of y’all hunting my ass, for real. You think I got me a sign that says, ‘Come munch on some Cajun’?” Remy sounded worried as hell.

  “Someone hunting you?” A low growl rose in his chest. “Where are you?”

  “A Bi-Lo in the milk and butter section.”

  “Shit, babe.” He didn’t remember seeing a Bi-Lo. “How far did you go afield?”

  “A ways. I’m coming there, though, ’less you don’ want me to. I just… I can’t stay here all night; that security guard’s following me.”

  “Do you want me to come get you?” He would. “I want you to come, babe. Vance is better.”

  “No. No, I got the truck. I’m coming. You….” He could hear Remy trying to relax, taking a deep breath. “You need anything?”

  “No. You get whatever you need to eat on my dime, get your ass back here. You hear me?” Goddamn, he didn’t want to lose Remy. The man was important to him, even if he had a mate now who needed more attention than he had to give.

  “Yeah. Yeah, boss. I’m coming.”

  The line went dead, and Vance leaned against him, frowning. “Who’s hunting Remy?”

  “He says a vamp, honey. That’s just weird.” Usually the local vamps would avoid the ones passing through, and their kin, like the plague.

  “Why would a vamp be here, so close to the Colonel?” Vance stopped, growled low, eyes flashing. No. No, now was not the time to go all vengeful god. They had too much to worry about.

  “I don’t know, honey.” Clay leaned in, took a kiss. “Colonel later. Right now, you need to get your strength back.”

  “He…. My memory’s all horked. Where’s Remy?”

  “He’s at the grocery.” That sounded so… normal. “He’s coming in now.”

  “Good. He’s been gone.” Vance frowned again, obviously trying to think.

  “Yeah. Out getting the lay of the land for us. You feeling better, baby?” Thinking was really overrated. But he had to stop being a damned coward and talk to the man.

  “Hungry, but yeah. Yeah, I don’t hurt.” Vance shrugged, smiling just at the corner of his lips.

  No, he imagined Vance was beginning to feel good. Real good, for the first time in a lot of years. Fuck, he was getting hard, just imagining what kind of sex they could have now. They could tear each other up, which was Clay’s favorite way to get off. He’d missed it when he and his… sire had parted ways.

  “Good. I was worried, man.”

  “Yeah. Me too. I got a little lost.” Vance stretched, that scarred skin having more stretch now.

  “Uh-huh.” The scars would never go away, but they’d take on an interesting sheen, one that would make them alluring.

  “You okay?” Vance curled against him, rubbing a bit, moaning.

  “Uh-huh. Better every second.” This man got to him so good, made him want everything. It was almost scary, how he just wanted to get inside Vance, all the way, deep.

  “Uh-huh.” Vance nibbled his hip, the sting sweet as hell.

  “Oh, do that again.” Shit, yeah. That made his skin feel tight, made his cock push right up.

  “Yeah.” Vance moaned, licked his skin, and then nipped again, teeth razor-sharp against his skin. Fuck! Clay arched, low noises starting to come right out of his throat. They didn’t make any sense, he knew, but they didn’t have to. Vance heard him now. Hungry, baby.

  One bite followed another, Vance just scoring his skin, drawing up a bead or two of blood and lapping it away. Growling, Clay rolled, thumping Vance onto his back, taking that mouth. He could taste his blood there. Taste himself. Vance arched, cock hard where it dragged against his skin and left little burning kisses.

  “Sweet, baby.” There. That made sense, right? He reached down and wrapped his hand around Vance’s prick, stroking, thumb pressing hard against the slit. He dragged his nail over lightly, just giving Vance some sting back.

  Vance growled for him, spreading and jerking, snarling out his name.

  “So fucking pretty.” Damn, just look at that man. Somehow the fangs were making him pant, pushing him to move closer, offer Vance his throat even as he pulled harder at that hot cock.

  Vance groaned, the pure need in that sound better than sex, teeth brushing his skin. “Need. Need, love.”

  “Take, baby. Take it now. Come on.” His head fell back more, his neck right there for anything Vance wanted. Those teeth sank in, Vance running on pure instinct for him, just like from the start. He could feel it, Vance groaning and pulling, drawing hard. Then Vance pressed a wrist to his lips, returning the favor.

  Biting down hard, Clay sucked Vance into his mouth, the blood spicy, full of fucking fire. Jesus, Vance was going to be strong. The circle drew closer and tighter, both of them humping and moaning, the bedsprings creaking.

  “Jesus fucking Christ. I have not had a good enough day to walk in on this. You two let up!” The door slammed, Remy opening the top of a longneck.

  Vance growled, nostrils flaring.

  “Oh, I don’ think so.” Remy broke the bottle on the edge of the dresser, one little foot stamping on the floor. “I came to rescue your crazy lily-white ass! Don’t you growl at me!”

  Oh shit. Aggression would just make Vance worse. Clay was up and off the bed, standing right in front of Remy before anyone could blink. “Now, babe. Put that away. You cut yourself, Vance will go ape.”

  “I want to fucking go home! Get in the truck, boss, please. Bring Boo; we’ll go.”

  Shit, somebody’d rattled Rem’s cage. Hard. But there wasn’t a mark on him.

  He put his hands on Remy’s shoulders, feeling how cold the kid was, how shudders rocked that skinny body. “Oh, babe. Come sit. Please?”

  “Uh-huh.” Remy tossed the bottle, eyes looking over at the bed. “How you feeling, Boo?”

  “Better. Better, man. You look cold.”

  Oh. Good Vance. Now, if he could just make sure Vance didn’t bite….

  “He is. Bless him.” Drawing Remy to the bed, Clay sat and pulled that slight form right down on his lap. “Tell me what happened.”

  “There was one of your type, boss. Tall. He called me sweet. He been watching, boss. Watching me and you and Boo. He wasn’t scared at all. He knew what all was going on.”

  Damn. Damn, damn, damn. “Tell me everything he said.” There might be some clue, someone he knew…. Something.

  “He said that I was like a slave kinda. He called me sweet. He was real tall.” Someone had charmed the living fuck out of Remy. Clay turned the sharp little chin this way and that, just to make sure nobody’d munched and run.

  No punctures. Well, no new ones.

  “It’s okay, babe. It’s gonna be fine. We’ll move. Okay? We’ll go farther out.” He didn’t want anyone using Remy as a cat toy, goddamn it.

  “Okay. Okay. He… he just. I dunno, boss.”

  Vance started pacing, nostrils flaring, eyes just glowing. Shit. “You…. You don’t worry, Remy. We’ll…. Christ, you smell good.”

  Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. It was still early enough in the night that he didn’t want to send Remy to his own room alone, but if Vance kept looking at the kid like that….

  “Boo, keep your fangs in. I ain’t lunch.”

  “What?” A rush of pure confusion hit him, then Vance reached up and touched those new, sharp incisors. “Shit.”

  Remy arched an eyebrow. “I swear to God, Boo. If you’re fixin’ to have some weird-assed epiphany thing, I’m gonna bash you with a bat.”

  Where had his life gone so completely fucked? Clay put Remy behind him, then got up to go to Vance and wrap around him. “I told you we needed to talk, honey. They killed you.”

  “No. I mean. Shit.” Vance
stared at him. “Did they do this to me?”

  “The killing part? Yeah. The toothy part is my fault.” He wasn’t ever one to shy away from the truth. And with Vance, it was more important.

  “I’d been bitten before.” There was a cold curiosity there, Vance’s lizard brain looking for ways to take advantage, to adapt.

  “Yeah?” A hard, possessive rage rose in his gut. “Well, you’re mine now. Mine.”

  “You think so?” Vance’s eyes went bright, the little fuck getting right in his space, nostrils flaring. Challenging him.

  “I do. You’re not getting bitten by any other bastard out there, you got it?” He pushed at Vance’s shoulders, just classic fucking aggression.

  “Fuck this.”

  He heard a door open and close, but Vance was right there, chest slapping against his, teeth bared. “You want to get into this with me?”

  Cocky fucker. Always pushing. He was older and damn wiser.

  “I do. Age and experience are on my side, baby.” Quick as a cat he slammed Vance up against the wall, the crack of that sturdy body hitting the wall shaking the room.

  Vance didn’t back down, teeth flashing, Vance’s cock full and hard against him. “More.”

  Yeah. More. He spared a thought for Remy, but it was best that boy wasn’t around. He’d know to call if things got weird, though. So Clay put all his energy back on Vance, pushing that sweet asshole back against the wall again and sinking his teeth into one muscled shoulder.

  “Fuck!” Vance nearly crawled up the wall, body jerking against him. “No…. Oh. Oh hell yes.”

  He slid one hand under that tight ass, the other lifted one of Vance’s thighs, and Clay encouraged the man to wrap around him so they could get closer. Much closer. Vance knew, followed right along, hips tilted as he leaned against the wall to brace them.

  Rubbing up on Vance was becoming a habit he never wanted to break. He bit down again, this time tilting his head to let Vance have at him. He’d proven his point. He could hear Vance laughing at him, the sharp bite punctuating that they still had things to talk about.

  It didn’t matter, though. Not at the moment. All that mattered was the sharp, bright taste of Vance’s blood and the feel of that body against his.

  Like a fucking drug.

  Fuck him raw.

  Of course, the way Vance bucked and rubbed, teeth sinking deeper, Vance agreed, wholeheartedly.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  GRYPHON WATCHED the lovely Cajun slam out of one hotel room and into another, huffing and puffing, face red with anger. He practically glowed under the lamps above each door, making Gryph’s mouth water.

  It wasn’t just the fact that Gryph could smell another vampire on the man. No, it was his spice, like hot red pepper and filé powder, all jambalaya and gumbo. It was irresistible. Remy called to him in a way only a few humans ever had, and those had been when he was young and silly. Romantic. He was hardly that now, so this was… fascinating.

  As soon as Gryph was certain no one was going to follow, he slipped around the back of the hotel, looking for a bathroom window he could charm open. He could hear the water running, hear random humming under the splashing and bubbling.

  Perfect. The window opened nearly soundlessly, and his body just fit through the space, sliding right into the room like a key through a keyhole.

  The humming stopped, Remy’s head tilting under the water, one hand reaching for a bottle of shampoo. “Boss?”

  Gryph’s nostrils flared, the scent of soap not hiding the heat of his sweet one bit. “I hate to disappoint, but no.”

  “Shit.” It came out as “shee-it,” making him smile. Then the curtain whooshed open, a bottle flying at him. The wet man scrambled for the door, feet slipping and sliding on the cracked tile.

  Oh no. No running back to the head vamp. Leaping, Gryph grabbed that hot body, arm sliding around the lean waist to stop his forward momentum.

  “Lemme go, now. I ain’t lunch, goddamn it.” Slick and strong, the beast could fight. Luscious.

  “Oh, sweet. You’re far too wondrous for something as trivial as lunch.” He wrapped his other arm around the Cajun’s chest, holding him as close as one could hold a slippery little eel.

  That tight ass rubbed against him, skin soaking him through. “I got the boss right here, now. I ain’t gonna let you hurt him none. He’s a good ’un.”

  “I am not interested in him.” Though he had to wonder about someone who could make this man so loyal. This boss must be a fine specimen. “What is your name, sweet?”

  “Remy Arceneaux.” Ah. A true Acadian. That explained the spice. He loved Cajuns so.

  “Well, Remy, I am Gryphon St. Jean, and I have no intention of harming your boss.” Only you, he thought. And only in the best way.

  “You got you a weird name, honey.” He could feel the lean muscles, tensing to fight.

  “It’s an antique, I’m afraid.” Tightening his hold, he pushed one hand down to wrap around one lean hip, getting a better grip.

  “Everything is with y’all. Lemme go, now. I ain’t tasty. Not at all.”

  “No? You smell like a feast.” He had to taste. Simply had to. Gryph bent and licked a line along the slope of one shoulder.

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” That strong draft-horse man grabbed the doorframe, catapulting himself out of Gryph’s arms as Remy somersaulted into the main room. Damnation. Gryph gave chase, reaching for that slippery form, not willing to let him get away. Remy slid across the floor, bare ass scooting toward a baseball bat propped by the door.

  Oh, he did like it when his sweet tried to play rough. First a knife, now a bat. Gryph put on a burst of speed, catching the bat as it swung his way.

  “Fuck. Boss, where you at?” Remy stumbled back, tugging at the bat, groaning as he held fast.

  Reeling Remy in, Gryph smiled wide. “I can hear him, sweet. He’s a tad busy.”

  “Yeah, well.” A flash of hurt mixed with pure frustration in those dark eyes, and then it turned to pure fury. “Yeah, yeah. Y’all is hearing each other and all caught up, but me? I’m still just Remy, and I ain’t gonna be your snack!”

  Look at those eyes. Dark and sparkling and full of life. Lovely. Hauling Remy up against his chest, Gryph bent and took that cussing mouth. He’d been told he was good at that.

  Remy gasped, went still for a moment, staring at him in pure shock. Then Gryph was being kissed back, so hard that, if he’d had a beating heart, it might have stopped. Then, of course, those hard fists started slamming against his shoulders, feet kicking away.

  Laughing with the pure joy of the fight, Gryph squeezed Remy tight, one arm wrapping around to grab both of Remy’s. “Now, now. Hitting ought to wait until we know one another better.”

  “I… I ain’t gonna. What you want, man?”

  “You. Did I not tell you that at the market?” He tilted his head. “I thought I had.”

  “No. No, you just went on about me and the boss and shit. I ain’t got what you want, now.”

  “Yes, you do. You have this.” His free hand trailed down to Remy’s tight, muscled ass. “And these.”

  Stretching his fingers, he grazed Remy’s balls.

  “I ain’t giving them up.” Those soft sacs drew up, skin wrinkling against his touch.

  “I like them attached to you, sweet. I have no desire to take them with me, unless you come along.” They clearly had a misunderstanding.

  “Well, that’s good? Wait. Come where? I gotta take Clay and Boo home ’fore Boo snaps and eats me or the boss or that soldier man.”

  “We don’t have to go anywhere now, sweet. We can stay right here.” While Remy seemed to be stunned, he turned toward the bed. Standing was so unnecessary when they could be cradled by a mattress, thus freeing up all those muscles, which strained for balance.

  “I…. This ain’t good hoodoo….” They sat together on the bed, Remy straddling his thighs. He could eat this one up with the way he protested but needed so badly.
<
br />   “No? I think it’s the best kind.” Talking also seemed overrated, so he began with the kissing again, his lips pushing Remy’s mouth open so his tongue could dip inside.

  “What? What you…?” Remy blinked slowly, staring at him, tongue sliding over his lips. “What you doing?”

  “Now, sweet, I know you’ve done this before. It’s called sex.”

  “Well, yeah. I ain’t a virgin, but… I tend to sorta know the guys I’m doing….”

  “We’ve been introduced.” That mouth called to him, and Gryph tasted it again, needing to learn all of Remy’s secrets. Remy groaned nice and low, tongue sliding against his, sweet as honey. That was it, what he wanted. To get Remy under his tongue.

  He cupped the back of Remy’s head in one hand, the other pushing down to slide them closer together. Smooth skin, heated, still damp, all of it his. Yes. Good. One kiss slid into another and another, Remy’s thoughts slow and sensual, caught up in him as they should be.

  He started moving, pushing Remy up and down until the sweet man was riding on him, bare cock meeting his still-covered one.

  “Lord, have mercy.” Remy groaned into his lips, ass tight, hips jerking.

  “Who the hell is this? Christ, is it bloodsucker central?” The door slammed open, the bastards from next door pushing in.

  In less than a blink, he’d put Remy behind him, standing and making himself as big as he could, teeth bared.

  The one Remy answered to growled low. “You’d best not have bit him. You might live if you didn’t.”

  The younger one needed the same warning, bright eyes glowing, searching for Remy. The hunger just poured off him. He wanted Remy as lunch, unlike Gryph.

  “I fail to see how you need two pets” was all Gryph said, staring the pretty one down. Tall, dark, hot….

  “I ain’t a pet.” Remy slapped his ass, that hand stinging. “And Boo, if you don’t quit looking on me like that….”

  “Everyone sit down and shut up.” That was the tall one, the one Remy called boss. “I don’t want to fight with you. But you’re out of line, coming after Remy.”