Of course, he had just hollered like a fool and there was no way he hadn’t been heard.
Axel gulped, his previously ridiculous thought of a zombie apocalypse scenario popping right back to life in his head.
“No,” he whispered. Zombies weren’t real.
The wind carried a fetid, unworldly scent right to Axel’s nose. It set to life a hidden terror in him he’d never known himself capable of. Some deep, intrinsic recognition sprung to full power inside him.
He didn’t question whether he was overreacting or not, whether horrible things such as zombies existed. Axel turned and ran as fast as he could. His plan to stay in one place was tossed in favor of not becoming one of the monsters moaning and heading his way.
* * * *
Claude wrinkled his nose. “That wretched odor is not one we usually smell so often.” He frowned contemplatively. “I wonder, what is bringing the zombies out again?”
Much to his surprise, West had been levitating a few feet off the ground. He hadn’t known he was capable of such a feat, hadn’t really thought of doing it. He’d just sort of…floated and had been too stunned to do anything but stay still and hope he didn’t fall.
Then Claude had to speak, and West’s focus was shot. He wasn’t graceful enough to keep from falling when his foot came down on loose sand. “Crap!”
Claude held a hand out to him. “Yes, there are zombies, and yes, they are nasty things for the most part. There are exceptions, ones who somehow retain most of their humanity, but the power that makes them what they are is rather, er, destructive on the tissues.”
“Zombies?” West’s mouth went dry as he thought about his favorite TV show. Zombies were not a good thing to have to fight.
“Zombies,” Claude repeated. “Yes. They come to us as a way of ending their suffering. It doesn’t happen often, or didn’t, and yet this is the second time recently that we’ve seen them out here. I am assuming, of course, that they are intending to come to the house. At the speed they travel, it will take several days. Have you any idea how much worse they reek after spending so much time out in the heat?” Claude shuddered delicately.
West tried not to gag. His eyes were on the verge of watering already. “How far away are they?”
“Oh, I would say they are less than fifteen minutes away from us right now, if we fly.” Then Claude’s frown intensified. “Ah, a complication. Of course.”
“What does that even mean?” West asked him.
Claude sniffed and looked at him.
West’s cheeks burned. “I didn’t do it!”
“Do what?” Claude waved the question off before West could answer it. “Regardless, there is a human—”
And about that time, West heard and smelled the man too. It sounded like the guy was shrieking breathlessly—an odd combination, but it fit.
“Running scared,” he found himself saying.
“Well, if you were to encounter zombies out in the desert, or anywhere for that matter,” Claude began.
“I’d need a change of underwear,” West muttered. “I might even now.”
Claude shook his head. “No, that isn’t an issue for us.”
West’s face burned with embarrassment. Even not talking about it flat-out, he was still mortified. “Anyway, the zombies?”
“He can outrun them, for a while,” Claude said. “Eventually, he’ll tire, or drop dead, perhaps even faint. They’ll possibly get to him then. There are also any number of things in the desert that could hurt and even kill the man before then. Snakes, the Sand Yeti—”
“Stop.” West pressed his palms against his temples and squeezed. “No more monsters!” He was seriously afraid he was going to have a mental breakdown. It was barely comprehensible to him what he’d become, but hearing of other creatures he’d always believed to be fictional? “Not right now, please.”
“We should intervene, I suppose,” Claude said. “The zombies must be stopped anyway. During the daylight, they usually bury themselves in the sand to avoid being seen, but if they’re desperate enough to die, they might not follow the protocol of remaining hidden from all humans. Obviously, they haven’t done so this time.”
“What about the guy?”
Claude shrugged. “He can’t know of us. The zombies… Hm. Maybe he can be convinced that he was hallucinating or it was pranksters. We will deal with him once we’ve dispatched the zombies.”
“Do I even want to know?” West asked as he tried to calm his jittery stomach.
“For now, you will watch. I’ve sent out a call for others to join me.” Claude smiled slightly then. “I don’t believe you to be fond of violence.”
“I don’t even like squashing bugs,” West admitted. “I don’t know if I can even watch.”
Claude nodded. “The others will be here soon. As part of being who and what I am, I have a link with every vampire member of our coven. If you listen, you can hear their wings on the wind.”
West listened and did indeed hear the flapping of bat wings, which reminded him that he’d been a bat earlier, and almost sent him into a state of panic. He did all right until he thought about what he was and how he could change into something else.
“Why don’t you keep watch over the man while we handle the zombies?” Claude suggested. “He is a goodly distance in front of them. We don’t want to lose him, although if he were to get lost and perish, it would solve our problem about what to do with him.”
West gawped at Claude. “That’s horrible!”
“Am I suggesting we allow that to happen?” Claude asked haughtily. “Or am I offering a solution to prevent that from becoming his fate?”
There seemed no point in answering that. West snapped his mouth shut and gave a clipped nod.
“Go on then. Follow his scent.” Claude watched him while West went batty.
It took him longer than it took Claude, and he felt awkward and moronic as his body did its freaky thing. Then he had wings and Claude lifted him up.
“How would you like a boost?” Claude tossed him up in the air.
It was easier than taking off from the ground. West flapped and set about finding the man. Once he sorted out the scent, it was easy.
West followed him for about half a mile before the man fell, yelping as he went down.
But he didn’t stay down, not fully. He tried to stand and yelped again, collapsing onto his hands and knees.
“No! Shit, shit, shit!” He coughed and panted as he began to crawl.
West could smell more than just the man’s body—he could smell the terror coming off of him in strong waves. It tore at West’s conscience and his heart. Watching the man crawl, falter, hearing him mutter words of fear and regret, West wanted to go down there and assure the guy that he’d be okay.
It had nothing to do with how the man looked, because West hadn’t adjusted to his batty vision yet. Everything tended to be blurry. But those pleading and panicked sounds were heartbreaking.
Not even words now, he realized. How long had this guy been running, and without water? Was he even now dying?
The idea spurred West to action. He flitted down from the sky.
“Wha—” The man jerked his head up as if he sensed West’s presence. “Argh!” He shrieked and flung himself onto his back, covering his throat with one hand.
Was that a human’s instinct to survive? Did some part of the man know what West was?
West pondered what to do as he pulled up again only a few yards from the ground. Terrifying the poor guy more hadn’t been in the plan, and it was clear that he was afraid of bats. West understood that.
And he could work around it. West flew off until he was certain he was undetectable in the darkness. He landed high on the backside of the nearest dune, then willed himself to shift forms. Hurry up, hurry up! Why couldn’t he just poof into a bat and back like Claude did?
After he finally had his feet under him and all his people parts back, West scrambled over the dune. The zombies weren’t an
ywhere near catching up yet, so he wasn’t worried about them.
“Hey!” he called out, scampering down the sand. “Hey! Are you okay there?”
The man gasped and curled into a ball.
Well. So he wasn’t okay then. West could sympathize. He knew how traumatic running into a heretofore fictional creature could be.
And he wasn’t going to let the man be as damaged by it as he’d been. West slowed to a walk and plastered on the friendliest smile he had, the one he used to ease all the kids’ fears and upsets.
“Hey there, man, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m lost too.” He hoped that tactic worked.
He didn’t receive an answer, and West slowed even more. “I’m West. I got lost out here, separated from the group I was camping with. Maybe we can find our way back to civilization together. Seriously, are you hurt?” He stopped a couple of feet away. This close, and without bat vision, he could see the nice shape of the man. He got his mind back on track. “Can I help you get up?”
Still no answer.
West slowly extended one arm. “I’m going to touch you, okay? Just on your shoulder. I won’t hurt you. I need to see if we can get you to your feet.”
Before he could do so, the stranger rolled again, this time away from West, and he came up onto his knees, a wild look in his eyes.
It would be West’s luck that he’d be stunningly handsome, and crazy as all get out. Understandable, too, because the human mind—and vamp one, as far as West could tell—could only hold so much shock.
“Hey,” West said softly. “I know how you feel. I’ve recently had a huge shock myself.” That was probably not what Claude would have wanted him to say. It was too close to admitting that there were zombies hanging around, or could be construed as such. He tried to cover the near-admission. “I almost died, and now here I am, lost.” He felt bad for lying, but he was lost in a way. He didn’t know where he was in the desert. Without Claude’s help, he probably wouldn’t be able to get back to the house.
The man licked his lips and finally let go of his throat. He darted a glance up at the sky, then over his shoulder before looking at West again. “Zombies,” he rasped, his voice rougher than the sand.
West opened his mouth to deny their existence, but the lie stuck in his throat.
“Zombies, bats,” the man said.
“I’m not either of those things,” West felt compelled to clarify.
“Monsters.”
He averted his gaze. How could he deny that one?
“I saw monsters. Gotta go, but my ankle…”
West felt like the worst kind of scum of the Earth when he forced his gaze to the man’s. “I’ll help you.” He might be a monster, but he had a conscience. “Let me help you, okay?”
After a tense couple of moments, he got a nod.
“What’s your name?” West asked.
“Ro— Axel.”
West almost asked which it was. He refrained, not wanting to freak Ro-Axel out. “Well, okay, Axel. I’m going to come over there and put an arm around your waist. We’ll get you up, then you can move.”
Axel held up a hand at West. It took him two attempts to speak again. “How do I know you aren’t a zombie?”
West spread his arms out and wiggled his fingers. “I don’t know anything about zombies except for what I’ve seen on TV. I don’t have any rotting parts, and I don’t want to eat brains or any other parts of you. I can…” There went his cheeks, flushing hot again. “If you need me to, I could take off my clothes so you can see that it’s all there.”
To his surprise, Axel gave him a slow, not impersonal look from head to toe. He seemed to spend an extra second or two eyeing West’s groin area.
That eager part of him tried really hard to stand up and get noticed. West only had to remember what had happened the last time he’d been horny to put a stop to that reaction.
Axel looked over his shoulder again before facing West. “Okay. Strip.”
West felt his mouth drop open for a second time that night. “Seriously? I’m…I’m…” He forced himself to stop acting like a scared virgin and instead reached for the hem of his T-shirt.
Axel was scared, and rightfully so, since he’d seen zombies. Reassuring him wasn’t a sexual thing. It was a kind thing to do.
West put his discomfort aside and pulled his shirt off. He felt bony and awkward standing there, and his nipples puckered with his nervousness.
He didn’t mean to gulp, it just happened. West forced himself to grab the waistband of his pants. He could do this.
“Stop,” Axel said. “I believe you.”
West couldn’t quite repress a shiver as he quickly put his shirt back on. He was blushing all the way down to his belly.
There was no reason for him to be so freaked out. Axel didn’t know him, or what had happened to him. All Axel had needed was to know West was what he claimed to be.
But I’m not, and that’s the real reason I’m ashamed.
Chapter Six
It was so not cool to curl up in a ball like the biggest chickenshit on the planet, especially not when the sexiest man he’d ever seen was watching him. It was even less cool to make the guy so obviously uncomfortable. West was clearly blushing—Axel could even see it with just the moonlight aiding his vision.
And he also could see that West was seriously, seriously a stud. And not a zombie.
That blush meant he was either really shy or—Axel dismissed the possibility of West being very unexperienced. There was no way a guy who looked as handsome as West couldn’t have gotten a lot of play.
The way that West averted his gaze now, the ruddy stripes on his cheeks, all piled more guilt onto Axel. He hadn’t meant to be an ass.
“I’m sorry.” Then something occurred to him. “You seem really accepting of me saying I’ve seen zombies.”
West put his shirt back on before answering. “You need help. I’m not going to argue with you.”
Axel narrowed his. “I need help like as in, I’m crazy?”
West shrugged. “Think I am half the time, so I wouldn’t presume to judge. Zombies… There’s weird stuff in the world, you know. Maybe someone’s pranking you, though. Or maybe there’s zombies.” Again, he kept his gaze turned away.
Axel didn’t know if he was lying, super shy, or what. Did it really matter? At this point, probably not. West wasn’t a zombie, and Axel felt a little better just not being alone.
West came closer and held out a hand. “Can I help you up now?”
He still wasn’t looking Axel in the eyes. It made him feel like he’d somehow insulted the man unjustly. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Axel put his hand in West’s.
West’s hand was slightly smaller than his, the skin cool and dry with calluses beneath each finger on his palm. Despite the coolness of his touch, warmth zipped through Axel.
West was strong, too, pulling Axel easily to his feet.
Axel hissed and hopped on his left foot. “Shit!”
“Ankle?” West asked, releasing his hand and instead sliding his arm around Axel’s waist.
Axel was so distracted by the way arousal was pinging all through his body that he didn’t realize West had repeated the question until West waved a hand in front of his face.
“Hey, are you okay?” West asked.
It was Axel’s turn to blush as he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I just…er, was thinking.”
“About your ankle?”
Axel wiggled it slightly. “Ouch. Fuck. Yes. I don’t even remember hurting it.”
West chuckled. There was a nervous quality to the sound that made it endearing. And Axel was having seriously weird things going on in his head if he thought anything was endearing. He sounded like his grandma.
“It’s probably the adrenaline,” West said. “Can make you feel like Superman until you come down from it.”
“I wouldn’t look good in tights, and I prefer to wear my underwear under my clothes instead of outside them.” Axel decided to test
the waters with West. “When I bother to wear any at all.”
Those ruddy stripes appeared instantly. West’s gaze skittered away. The man was either Axel reconsidered his earlier belief that West had to have plenty of sexual experience. He could be wrong about that after all.
And apparently, he was going to have to apologize again, because West still wouldn’t look at him.
Axel sighed. “Look, man, I’m being an asshole. It’s been a bad day, but that’s no excuse.”
“I-it’s okay,” West said. “I just…” He bit his bottom lip and Axel nearly came in his pants despite his ankle hurting. It was all too easy for him to picture those lips wrapped around his cock.
West seemed unaware of the X-rated thoughts running through Axel’s head. “Hopefully someone will find us soon.”
I don’t know, spending a few days in the desert with you might not be such a bad thing. As a fantasy, it was pretty hot. Axel was proud of himself for keeping his mouth shut on that come-on. He was learning.
“Yeah, well, the way my luck’s been running today, we’re probably screwed.” Axel sighed. “Why’re we standing up? I mean, are we gonna try to see if I can walk some more, or…” How far had he gotten from the zombies? “I think we should try that.”
West smiled a little. “Well, yeah, I thought we’d see if we couldn’t put more space between us and them.”
“Again, you say that like you believe in zombies,” Axel noted. It was bothering him. “If some guy started telling me he’d been running from zombies, I’d wonder what kinda drugs he’d been taking.”
“Are you on drugs?” West asked.
Axel scowled. “No. You can’t do drugs and be a great sandboarder.”
“Sandboarder? You’re a sandboarder?” West looked at him, then his jaw dropped open. “Oh my god! You’re that Axel! Axel Majors! I didn’t—I—I—”
Well, that was good for his ego. “Yeah, I guess.” He was pleased that West seemed impressed, though he tried to hide it.
West hung his head. “I’m such a dork. You’re one of my favorite sandboarders. I saw you last spring at the competition at Sand Mountain. You took first place.”
Don't Drink the Holy Water Page 3
