“I remember winning, and the heat, and thinking Jukie was going to beat me what with the way he was flirting with all the judges.” Axel had been irritated and amused both. “Jukie’s a flirt, and he’s an asshole. He’s the reason I’m out here now.”
West started them moving, walking slowly, bracing Axel on his injured side. “He, er, he’s your boyfriend, right?”
Axel huffed, anger sparking bright. “No, and that was what pissed him off. We broke up a while back—okay, I called it off, but I was totally nice about it. Jukie waited until today to have a hissy fit, and the fucker attacked me with a clipboard and left. Then my phone got broken, I guess when he was hitting me, and the ATV wouldn’t fuckin’ work.”
And was West blushing again? He’d also stiffened up some. Axel could feel it. “Did I piss you off somehow?”
Before West could answer, a bat zipped down right in front of them.
Axel screeched like a banshee and ducked his head.
West didn’t even flinch.
Axel felt like the biggest wuss in the universe. The bat flapped off. “That didn’t scare you?”
West shrugged. They walked in a silence that wasn’t exactly comfortable. Axel was too tired to stress over it.
Eventually, West stopped them. “Hey, do you hear that?”
Axel blinked, cocked his head, and listened. “It’s buzzing—oh! Those are engines!”
“Yes.” West smiled sweetly. “They are. I think we’re about to be rescued.”
The news didn’t fill Axel with as much relief as it should have. He wanted to be back in the safety of his apartment, but he wanted a little more time with West too.
He didn’t get it. As it turned out, the four people who arrived on ATVs were the very ones West had gotten separated from.
When one of them offered to take Axel back to his place, he looked at West, wondering if he dared to make a move and ask for his number.
But West only waved at him and told him to take care.
Axel had never been given such an obvious brush-off before. He didn’t care for it one bit, either.
Chapter Seven
West looked out of the window. The glittering lights of downtown Portland mesmerized him for a little while, then he sighed and closed his eyes. He rested his brow against the cool glass.
Everything had changed so much. Not just recently, but since his parents had died. The vampire thing sucked—no pun intended—and all he could do was hope he’d get better adjusted to it.
Leaving his sire’s coven had been a difficult thing to do, too. West had done it because it was in the children’s best interest for them to move to the coven Claude had found for them. Herve was a good leader, much like Claude was. Herve also had a large coven, established firmly in the city of Portland, Oregon, and many humans were a part of it.
And a lot of them had kids. They had their own school. While it only had a total of sixteen students—not counting West’s siblings—that was still better than none. This way, West didn’t have to put the kids back in public school where he’d be unable to get them if anything went wrong, like if one of them became ill.
Not being able to go out in the sunlight was very restrictive for a parent, West had learned. But here, in Herve’s coven, everyone worked together to make the kids’ lives easier, as well as the vamps’.
West didn’t have to stay up all day to watch them. He slept in until they’d finished school, then they’d play for a couple of hours. It wasn’t ideal, but really, he didn’t see them any less than he used to before. On the weekends, he let his sleep schedule go to hell so he could spend time with them.
And the kids were flourishing. It made West’s heart feel alive again every time he heard them laugh. Only the kids brought him any joy. Only the kids kept him from stepping out into the sunlight and letting death take him.
He knew he was depressed, but it was justified, as far as he was concerned. West kept a smile on his face for his brothers and sisters, and he didn’t have to fake being happy with them.
But it was times like now, when he was awake and the kids were asleep, that West’s brain turned against him. He’d had his pint of donated blood so he wasn’t hungry.
West opened his eyes and pressed his palms to the cool glass. He wondered how much snow there’d be in winter. The kids would love snow.
A tap at the door pulled him out of his brooding. West turned away from the window. “Come in.”
Janet came in and closed the door. “Hey, you know it’s not good to stay in here all by yourself night after night.”
West shrugged. “What am I supposed to be doing?” Janet was nice, and she might be a good friend if he let her get close enough. He didn’t think he could.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Janet said airily. “Maybe come with me to The Jax and dance a little.”
West barely suppressed a shiver. There’d be people and loud music and— “I’m not one for clubs.” Just look at what had happened the one time he’d tried it. “Sorry. I…”
“If it’s the gay thing, that’s not a problem.”
West looked at her. “The ‘gay’ thing?”
Janet waved him off. “Don’t get bent. I just mean I’m not coming on to you, and The Jax welcomes everyone. It’s not a gay or straight club. It’s just a club.”
West knew he was blushing. “I d-didn’t think you were coming on to me.” He knew she wasn’t. Janet had never hinted that she was interested in him like that. She always tried to include him in her outings, which he didn’t understand.
Janet propped her hands on her slender hips. “Seriously, West. We’re all worried about you. Some vamps have trouble adjusting, and yeah, it’s hard knowing you’re different, but it is what it is. Staying in your rooms pouting won’t change any of it. All that’s gonna do is screw your head up and make you more miserable than you already are.”
“You don’t know me—”
“Because you won’t let me,” Janet snapped. “It’s fine for everyone to help out with your brothers and sisters, but god fucking forbid anyone want to help you. You know what? We’re a coven, and we all watch out for each other. You need to get that through your self-absorbed head.”
West gawked at her. No one had spoken so angrily at him since he’d been turned. Everyone had tiptoed around him, and hadn’t pushed.
Janet wasn’t pushing—she was bulldozing over him.
“And here’s another thing. Your sibs are going to grow up and have their own lives. They probably won’t want to stay in the coven, and then what’re you gonna do?” she demanded. “You have to have something more in your life.”
“They’re enough,” he said quietly, his heart racing. He was scared but couldn’t pinpoint why.
“You need friends, and you need to become part of the coven instead of keeping yourself apart from it. You aren’t better than us, and we aren’t the epitome of evil.” She huffed then shook her head. “Look. You didn’t want to be a vamp? Well, here’s a surprise. It wasn’t the life dream for most of us. It happened. It can’t be changed. Stop pouting about it and move on, because you are setting a bad example for your family, and if you think they don’t know, you’re wrong. Those kids pick up on your unhappiness, same as the rest of us do. They just imitate you and act like everything is perfect. That’s what you’re teaching them.”
She left him then, and West pondered what she’d said. Was he really not hiding his unhappiness from the kids? He was happy around them, but yes, somewhere not so deep inside, he still felt broken, violated. Like an abomination, which he’d never felt before being turned.
Another hour of brooding and thinking—mostly brooding—and West couldn’t stand it. He had to get out. Janet was right about some things, and one of those was that he needed to stop staying locked up in his rooms like some fairy-tale princess.
Clubs weren’t going to happen. West didn’t want to be around anyone else. He just wanted a change of venue for a little while. He let Zenida know he was
going out because that was coven courtesy, to tell the security chief if one was leaving.
Zenida didn’t grill him about where he was going. West was glad for that. He hadn’t a clue, other than he wanted to walk.
It’d been almost three months since he’d been turned. Maybe it was time to stop hating himself and what he’d become. West didn’t know if it was possible. He walked for hours, and the longer he was out, the better he felt. When sunrise threatened, he wasn’t anywhere near recovered from his moroseness, but he thought he might be able to get past it eventually.
He felt something he hadn’t since that night in the alley—hope. West ran the last couple of blocks back to the coven stronghold. “Cutting it close,” Zenida said when he slipped in the door.
“Yeah, I got distracted,” he said sheepishly.
Zenida snorted. “You almost got toasted.”
West gave her a halfhearted grin and hurried to the stairs. As he went, he bypassed the living room. Several people were awake and watching TV. He wasn’t really paying attention until he heard the name Axel Majors.
West stopped and looked at the TV. There was Axel, smiling and doing all sorts of nifty sandboarding tricks, waving and looking so darned handsome West’s lower region actually began to perk up.
That startled him enough that he gasped.
Three people turned their heads and looked at him.
“I, uh. I met him, in the desert. We were— There were zombies and—” West snapped his mouth shut.
Terrence leaped up from the couch. “Oh, man, you met Axel Majors?”
“Who the fuck is Axel Majors?” Rick grumbled to Ella.
“The guy who was just on that commercial, I guess,” she said.
Terrence bounced on his toes. His blue eyes gleamed with excitement. “You met him? For real? Can you get us in to meet him at the competition in Florence? That’s, like, twenty minutes away if we fly! He’s gotta be grateful to you if you saved him from zombies.”
West remembered pretty much ignoring Axel once they’d been ‘rescued’. “Um, I don’t know about that.”
“Please?” Terrence batted his lashes at West. “I’ll do all your chores here for a week.”
Apparently, once he’d started even thinking of letting down his barriers, he became susceptible to begging. West was shocked to find himself saying, “I can try, but he might not want to see me again.”
Terrence squealed and hugged him.
West didn’t know what to do with a double armful of wiggly, happy Terrence. He settled for awkwardly patting his back.
“Of course he’ll want to see you! You saved him from zombies, right?” Terrence asked with more enthusiasm than West had ever felt in his life.
“It wasn’t just me. There were other people involved.”
Terrence winked at him. “You’re so modest. I bet you’re his hero.” He darted off, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll start your chores today!”
West wasn’t modest, he was embarrassed. Looking back, he’d been a jerk there at the end. At least Axel hadn’t been hurt too badly if he was able to compete now.
Anyway, Axel probably wouldn’t want to see him. On the off chance he did, West would be able to apologize, and that’d be one less piece of guilt to deal with.
Chapter Eight
Yolanda took the toothpick out of her mouth. “You know what you gotta do, Ax.”
He watched Jukie’s performance. It was obvious Jukie was doing a subpar job of it. He was unsteady on his board, and his jumps and turns were barely better than a beginner’s.
“You really think it’s me that’s made him like that?” Axel asked her.
“That’s all him,” she scoffed. “He’s the fool that decided to start snorting that shit. You gotta cut him free or you’ll be dragged down with him when he gets busted. Plus, maybe if he don’t see you all the time, he can get over his stupid self.”
“So I’m at fault,” Axel surmised.
“No, he’s at fault and he ain’t strong enough to deal with you and him not being a couple. I know he also feels like shit for leaving you in the desert,” she added.
Axel shuddered. He hadn’t bothered to tell anyone what he’d seen out there after his rescuers on the ATVs had told him he had to be hallucinating. They’d sure got him to thinking about what anyone else would say if he told them he’d seen zombies. Short of West, who’d obviously had no interest in him at all, everyone else would have thought Axel was crazy. He thought he was crazy sometimes.
Seriously, zombies. Axel still had nightmares about them.
And a morbid curiosity as to what they looked like up close. He’d watched every episode of The Walking Dead twice. Maybe he had a little bit of a crush on Daryl. Just a tiny one.
“Are you hearing me?” Yolanda snapped. “Jukie’s going to ruin both of y’all’s careers.”
“What about yours?” Axel asked.
Yolanda shrugged. “Won’t be so much shit flung my way. I wasn’t fucking him.”
Axel ducked his head, holding in a groan when Jukie fell. It wasn’t a bad fall physically, but it would ensure Jukie didn’t get to compete any further. His score would suck. “But you’re his best friend.”
“Which is exactly why I’m telling you, cut him loose. You two are toxic together, even when you’re not screwing.” She stuck the toothpick back in her mouth. “’N besides, I’m about done with this sport.” She pointed at him. “Think about it.” Then she jogged over to greet Jukie.
Axel watched them for a moment. Their heads were nearly touching as Yolanda moved her hands while she spoke. He could tell from her gestures whatever she was saying was urgent, to her at least.
She probably had a point. Axel might have accepted Jukie’s apology, but he’d never trust him again. He’d also put a distance between him and Jukie, one that left them as people pretending to be friends more than anything else.
Axel rubbed his hands over his face. A dull headache was beginning behind his eyes, tension and fatigue kicking in. He’d done well enough to place for tomorrow’s competition, so he should feel relieved.
He just felt exhausted on a level that went beyond the physical.
And the more he thought about what Yolanda said, the more he thought she was right.
Axel left Sand Master Park, catching a cab to his hotel. He had his own room at least, though Jukie had bitched about that. Called it an extravagance they couldn’t afford.
He was right, but Axel had been growing less and less patient with Jukie, and he hadn’t wanted to be kept up at night while Jukie did whatever shit he did.
The hotel room was nothing fancy. If Axel had gotten more commissions for his art, he’d have been able to stay somewhere nice, like a Holiday Inn Express. That was way out of his budget. As it was, he’d do well to not to overdraft his checking account to pay for the room he had.
Once in his room, Axel was restless. It was probably because he was stressing over what Yolanda had said. That, and he hadn’t had sex in a long time. Too long for a guy his age, that was for sure. As tempted as he was to jack off, another idea held much more appeal.
There were clubs in Portland, and one in particular he’d heard of. He could spare five bucks for a day-pass… Or he could go to one of the numerous other gay bars. After all, he was only looking for a little play, not even a one-night stand.
Yeah, he could do with a bathroom blow job. It’d been just him and his hand since he’d broken up with Jukie. It was time for him to move on, and while he wasn’t up to a relationship, he sure wouldn’t say no to an orgasm or two.
* * * *
“This feels like stalking,” West complained. “I mean, I shouldn’t have agreed to this. It’s creepy. Like stalking.”
Terrence rolled his eyes. “Please. So we found out what hotel he was staying in by calling around a few dozen hotels. So what? We aren’t going to hurt him. I just want to look at the pretty man.”
“He’s not pretty,” West grumbled, remembering Ax
el’s masculine features. “He’s handsome.”
“Same diff.” Terrence blew in West’s face. “How’s my breath?”
West coughed and fanned his face. “Stop it. You aren’t going to be getting close enough to Axel for him to tell if you forgot to brush or not.”
“I didn’t,” Terrence said indignantly. “And how do you know? I might have him naked and fucking me before you get past ‘how do you do’. It could happen.”
West didn’t understand why he was getting so angry, but the sudden urge to smack Terrence into next week was almost irresistible. “Cut it out,” he growled.
Terrence blinked. “Oh. You have the hots for him. Why didn’t you say? I can ask him to introduce me to his ex. Jukie’s fuckable too.”
“I don’t have the hots for him,” West denied, while his heart sped up and his pulse followed suit. He could remember, suddenly and vividly, the scent of Axel, the dark shadows under his eyes, the feel of his lean body as West had tried to help him walk. Then there was the low rumble of his voice, and the curve of his lips— “No, I don’t. Stop smirking like that.”
“But you’re hard.”
West started to deny it, but Terrence ran a finger down the length of West’s erection. It was a surprise—West hadn’t really been aroused in months. He hadn’t wanted to be, either. “Stop it,” he hissed, swatting Terrence’s hand away and glaring down at his stupid cock. “Keep your—”
“Er, West?”
Terrence squeaked. “Oh my god! It’s him!”
West didn’t have to ask who. He knew that deep, rough voice well, even if he’d only had a short time to memorize it. Still, it was a shock to look up into those gorgeous eyes. Dark circles didn’t ring them this time. West upgraded Axel’s appearance from handsome to effing stunning.
“It is you, right?” Axel said, taking a step toward him. “West. From the desert.” He laughed. “God, that sounds like an old silent film.”
West licked his lips. He was afraid his voice was going to break if he spoke.
Don't Drink the Holy Water Page 4