Alasdair

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Alasdair Page 11

by Ella Frank


  He opened his mouth, about to feed him the lie Alasdair had started, when Elias leaned across the desk and shook his head.

  “And don’t you dare try to tell me you fell in love and disappeared for thirteen days, Leonidas. I’ve known you for nearly eleven years, and you’ve never been so stupid or thoughtless.”

  Leo stared tongue-tied at the man he’d grown to admire and respect over the years. As Elias waited for him to tell the truth, Leo wasn’t quite sure what to say.

  “Start talking, Leo. Give me something so I believe you still give a shit about this job you have worked your ass off for. Are you really going to throw your life away for someone you just met?”

  “No,” Leo murmured.

  “No? Then help me understand. Where the fuck have you been? Are you caught up in something you can’t get out of?”

  Leo brought his head up and frowned. “Such as?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me. Drugs? Does that guy have you doing things you don’t want to do? He looked the type.”

  He didn’t mean to, but Leo couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the absurd thought of Alasdair as a drug dealer. He supposed, from an outside perspective, he did come off as arrogant and somewhat scary in the way nothing seemed to intimidate him.

  But a drug dealer? No.

  “I’m glad you find this amusing,” Elias grit out, his patience running thin. “Because if that’s what’s going on here, drugs, we can go down and report him.”

  “No. No,” Leo denied adamantly, pulling himself together. He uncrossed his legs and sat forward, putting his elbows on his knees so he could rest his face in his palms. “He’s not a drug dealer. For God’s sake, Elias, give me some credit.”

  “I’m giving you no fucking credit right now,” he thundered. “You don’t deserve it. You just took off. No note for your friends, no call to your boss—”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Leo finally said, getting to his feet. He ran his hand through his hair and then gripped the back of his neck as he stared at Elias. “I couldn’t call you.”

  Elias tilted his head to the side, carefully contemplating his next words. “Why not?”

  Leo dropped his hand and shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

  Elias sighed. “Try again, Leo.”

  “I. Can’t. Tell. You,” he said, enunciating each word. “Look at me. Do I look like I’m enjoying myself here?”

  The silence was strained as Elias looked him over, and all Leo could hear was the anxious beat of his heart. It was funny—Elias, in his own way, commanded a room as effectively as Alasdair did. The only difference was there was no immediate threat of death with this man.

  Until today, maybe.

  “Do you still want to work here, Leo?”

  “Of course,” he answered immediately. “It was never about that—Jesus. I feel like my whole fucking life has turned on its head.”

  Elias nodded and got to his feet. Leo watched him make his way over to him, reminded why he’d once had a crush on his university teacher. Elias was tall, his suit outlined his broad shoulders, and when he stopped so they were face-to-face, Leo noted, not for the first time, how handsome his friend was. It really was a shame he was straight.

  “Paris found this yesterday,” he told him as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

  Leo took it from him.

  “Tell me where you’ve been, Leo,” Elias said in a low voice.

  When the paper was released, Leo raised his eyes to meet Elias’s silver ones and thought he saw… No, it can’t be. However, Leo could’ve sworn he had seen a flash of knowledge in them. What is he waiting for me to say?

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? We’ve told each other everything for years.”

  Leo dropped his eyes and busied himself unfolding the paper. When he saw the notes he’d made of his recurrent dreams, he touched his finger to the words.

  How the hell… “Where did you get this?”

  “I told you. Paris found it in your office last night.”

  Leo looked at the date of the final entry and then took a cautious step away from Elias.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, but Leo didn’t answer, his mind instead whirling as he tried to remember bringing that piece of paper to his office. But…

  I didn’t. I left it at home, in the drawer of my desk.

  “Leo?”

  Leo grabbed his bag and stuffed the paper inside. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Hang on one damn minute,” Elias demanded, grabbing his arm. “I hope you mean you have to go downstairs, because we only have a couple of days and then the exhibit opens.”

  Leo glanced at the hand Elias had on his arm. What was going on? How did he get that piece of paper?

  “So, I still have a job?”

  Elias frowned and released his hold. “Yes. Unless you keep this bizarre behavior up. Then, friend or no friend, I’ll have to reassess your job duties.”

  “Okay,” Leo agreed, hastily backing out of the office. “I’ll…I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

  Then he left, not giving Elias another chance to speak.

  ELIAS WAITED UNTIL Leo had disappeared before shutting the door and walking back over to his desk. He sat down and reached for the clock on the corner of it. Gently, he unlatched and opened the small door at the back that hid the mechanisms inside. Then he removed the small key resting on the wooden base.

  After closing the clock, he moved it aside so he wouldn’t knock it over and then inserted the key into the center drawer of his desk. Upon rolling it open, he took out the leather-bound journal and untied the binding knotted across the center.

  It’d been years since he’d looked at the entries, but right there, written neatly down the first page, were several of them, each of them having occurred nearly ten years ago exactly. He’d marked the date, the time, and the strange blinding light that had been in each of the dreams. But the one journal entry he kept coming back to was the first one, the one that was different than all the others.

  Different than the ones Leo had also documented.

  9/16/05, 3:13 a.m. - Yesterday was my first day teaching. Nerves finally caught up to me, I think, which might explain why I had such an odd dream tonight. It was about two of my students. Not anything creepy. But they were definitely in it. Leonidas Chapel and Paris Antoniou. Two boys whose names could be straight out of the history books I’m teaching from. But the odd thing about the dream was we weren’t in class. We were standing in some sort of hall. It was massive in size, and there was a marble altar in front of us. Seated behind the altar were three figures (I think they were men.) The light that was shining on the three of us was so bright I could barely see at all. I was in the middle, Leonidas was to my left, and Paris to the right. Then a voice so commanding I felt the weight of the order down to my bones said, “Born of us, you are the three. When the time comes, they shall find you.” Then I woke.

  LEO’S MIND WAS a mess as he walked to the two elevators at the far end of the corporate floor. He pressed the down button and fiddled with the strap of his bag while he waited for the elevator to arrive.

  Since he’d left Elias’s office, he’d gone over their conversation several times. But no matter how it played out, the piece of paper¸ the one Elias had lied about, might as well have been burning a hole in his bag.

  His foot tapped as the light indicated the elevator had stopped on the ground floor. It still had five floors to climb until it reached him, and his agitation rose with each level.

  Why did Elias have his journal entry? And why not admit to snooping around my place while I was gone instead of lying? It made no sense at all.

  He ran his fingers down the strap of his bag and then flipped the top flap open to pull the paper out. Staring at the words, he ran his fingers over them again, reading them back in his mind.

  I was standing in a huge room, at an altar or something, and there was a light. A bright, blinding li
ght—

  DING.

  When the elevator announced its arrival, Leo looked up from the paper and watched the metallic doors slide open.

  There, standing inside, was Alasdair. Wearing all black, from his boots to his coat, and with his beautifully sculptured face, he resembled some sort of fallen angel. One who had frozen Leo.

  As the doors began to slide shut, Alasdair causally pushed off the wall and jabbed one of the buttons. Once they’d whooshed back open, Leo heard in his head, Won’t you come inside, Leonidas?

  Leo licked his lips, and when Alasdair’s eyes dropped to them, he clutched the paper in his hand.

  I told you I would be back.

  “You said tonight,” Leo said out loud, and then he thought, What difference does it make what time he showed up?

  “I changed my mind,” Alasdair said as he raised an arm to hold the elevator open.

  An office door opened and shut behind Leo, and then footsteps made their way towards them.

  “Better hurry. I haven’t eaten this morning, and after the night I’ve had, I’m a little testy.”

  Shit. He really had no other choice as he entered the small confines of the elevator and again thought, How do I get myself into these situations?

  AS LEO WALKED by, Alasdair closed his eyes and inhaled, taking in his fresh scent. It was all he could do to stop himself from taking Leo’s arm and sinking his teeth into him. The only thing preventing him from acting on the urge was the knowledge of what would happen should he give in to his hunger.

  Fuck, I need to find someone to feed on and soon.

  The doors to the elevator closed, locking him inside with Leo, who was now flattening himself against the far wall. Alasdair couldn’t stop himself from moving towards him.

  After he’d finished with Stratos and cleaned himself up, he’d gotten to thinking about what the vampire had said before his demise.

  She was different… You don’t even know.

  Stratos was, ironically, dead on. He didn’t have a goddamned clue what he’d been talking about, and neither did Isadora. Not that she seemed to care too much. She’d told him quite plainly that she wouldn’t bother trying to decipher the words of a deranged mind when she could be out pursuing other, more enjoyable pastimes. Such as her redhead.

  It was a selfish deed to disregard the dead and what they’d died for so blithely, but that’s who they were at the core. Selfish, narcissistic creatures. And as he placed his hands on the wall on either side of Leo’s head, his cousin’s words echoed through his mind.

  “Go and feed, Alasdair. Find a warm body to fuck. Forget about that human you’ve been obsessing over, and forget Stratos. Let it go.”

  But he couldn’t. Something felt…off. Stratos hadn’t been the type to do what he had done, and that was still bothering him. So was the fact that the one person he wanted to fuck was also harboring a most dangerous weapon.

  “So you can walk outside when it’s daylight?”

  The question from Leo was so unexpected Alasdair lost his train of thought and dropped his hands, crossing them over his chest. He eyed the human and wondered when this man had decided he was no longer a threat.

  Maybe it’s time to remedy that. “That’s the first question you ask when trapped in an elevator with a hungry carnivore?”

  “Hey, look,” Leo said, trying to appear casual. “I’m hungry too and could do with some eggs and bacon. But you don’t have to worry about me attacking you. I expect the same courtesy.”

  Alasdair resumed his previous position with his hands by either side of Leo’s head, pleased when the man clamped his mouth shut. “And why would you expect that?”

  Leo’s throat contracted as he swallowed, and Alasdair lowered his eyes to his pulse.

  “Because you want something from me.”

  The words could’ve been taken several ways. Alasdair knew Leo was referring to information, yet he couldn’t seem to help himself from lowering his lips to the corner of Leo’s mouth.

  “And what is that? The pleasure I denied myself last night? Is that what you think I want, Leonidas?”

  Leo’s breath brushed over his lips as he dared to ask, “Why did you deny yourself?”

  He was surprised to discover how much he liked this bolder side of Leo, and he nipped his lower lip then said, “I like how it feels to hunt you down. To toy with you. To tease you until you’re begging for it. It’s in my nature.”

  Several seconds passed, and the air became thick with the same sexual tension from the previous night. The desire that had been ignited was still hovering between them, unfulfilled and most definitely unsatisfied.

  “So you want me to be scared of you. And I was, am, terrified. You’re really fucking scary. But I can’t help but wonder why something as destructive as you is so…”

  “So?” Alasdair pressed.

  Leo’s breath faltered when Alasdair moved his mouth down to his neck and licked a path along the vein pulsating there. “So…so attractive.”

  Alasdair chuckled at the reluctant compliment. “While it’s incredibly flattering that you think my looks were designed this way due to what I am, it’s just not so.” He then grazed his teeth along the line of Leo’s jaw and told him, “We appear as we were when turned. Minus, of course, anything cosmetic, such as a haircut. The vampire gene merely adds an eternal…shine of sorts. An immortality elixir, some might say.”

  When Leo arched his head away without even realizing, exposing the column of his throat to him like a final meal to a dying man, Alasdair’s stomach knotted.

  I must be fucking insane to torment myself this way. I know what his blood can do to me. And yet…I still want it.

  “So you’ve always been this…this…” Leo trailed off on a sigh, not finishing his thought.

  Alasdair raised his head, not quite certain his control could be counted on.

  “Come on. You must know how hot you are,” Leo said, straightening back up and shaking his head as if to clear it.

  “Hot?” he asked, the word breaking through his thought as one he wasn’t familiar with.

  The elevator came to a halt, and when the doors opened, Leo slid past, keeping a wary eye on him, and walked out into the corridor.

  Alasdair followed down the dimly lit hall. “This place reminds me of home.”

  Leo glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes at him. “Of course it does. We’re in a basement.”

  “Your boss makes you work in a basement? Hardly seems like a job worth getting upset over losing.”

  When Leo stopped and spun to face him, Alasdair slid his hands into the pockets of his pants.

  “I’m lucky I still have a job, no thanks to you. And I wouldn’t be so judgmental. Like you said, you live in the equivalent of this basement.”

  He gave a slight nod. “You could look at it that way, I suppose. Or that you’re lucky to be alive and able to come back to said job because of me.”

  Leo scoffed. “Why? Because when you tried to kill me you got paralyzed? That’s not luck because of your goodwill. That’s luck due to my own body’s kickass defense system.”

  Alasdair faded in and out so quickly he had their bodies pressed intimately together before Leo could react. “A defense you claim to know nothing about.”

  “Ye…yeah. That’s right,” Leo stuttered.

  Alasdair stared him down as he reached for the piece of paper. But Leo’s fist tightened stubbornly, refusing to let it go.

  “Give it to me, Leo.”

  “No. It’s none of your business.”

  “I don’t care. I want to know what’s on it.”

  “There’s nothing on it.”

  “Why do you insist on lying to me when you know I can find out the truth?”

  Leo locked his jaw, refusing to say any more, and glared at him.

  “Fine. Let’s do this the hard way.”

  As what was about to happen seemed to dawn on Leo, he shook his head, but it was too late. He was already inside hi
s mind.

  GIVE ME THE paper, Leonidas.

  Yeah, he hated when Alasdair delved inside his head. It felt so intimate and invasive. But when he did that weird body-and-mind-control thing, Leo wanted to scream at him to fuck off and leave him alone. Being at someone’s mercy was not pleasant. At least, when it was physical, he had some recourse. This was so…one sided.

  His arm rose, and he handed Alasdair the journal entry. Then he watched in a daze as he unfolded and read what was on it. When Alasdair was done, he looked at him with a fierce scowl. Alasdair had gone from sexy to scary as fucking hell.

  Who told you about this?

  “Told me about what?”

  About the Assembly Hall? How do you know of it?

  Leo’s mind scrambled through his memories and thoughts for something about an Assembly Hall but came up with nothing. “I don’t know what the Assembly Hall is.”

  Alasdair grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him forward, thrusting the paper in his face. You wrote about it here, several times. It’s dated before we met. If you don’t know what it is, how did you know to write it?

  Compelled to answer with only the truth, Leo opened his mouth and replied, “I don’t know.”

  I don’t believe you. At each turn there’s more tricks, more deception. You can even fight this somehow.

  Leo couldn’t fight the mind game Alasdair was playing. Every word shoved into his head was heavy and authoritative, and he couldn’t do anything other than stand there. So, when Alasdair faded them out of the hall, he expected to find himself back in the strange room with the leather walls and metal hooks. Once he’d come to, though, he was stunned to be on the worn couch against the brick wall of his office.

  ALASDAIR PACED THE length of Leo’s office, staring at the chaotic mess of photographs, posters, and timelines pinned all over the wall. He’d dumped Leo on the couch when he’d faded them inside—and that’s when he’d spotted it. An entire wall filled with hundreds of images from days long past.

 

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