Dante looked at the vamps. “Are either of you thirsty?” They shook their heads. “Nick, you and I need food. Is there a restaurant you could suggest?”
Nick mentioned one Dante was familiar with, and they agreed on the small family diner tucked well away from the Grand Canal. In case their enemies were on the lookout for a foursome, they decided the men would walk together as friends. To be less conspicuous, Nick drew the hood on his jacket up over his blond hair, and Dante pulled a dark knit seaman’s cap down over his ears and turned his collar up.
The vampires were dressed in dark clothes. Earlier, Alex had loosened his braids and Dante had brushed back his hair to tie it in a ponytail with a leather strap. Now, Alex hid his long hair under a cap with a brim, and walked a block or so ahead, while Malcolm followed at a discreet distance.
Although it wasn’t especially cold, the sky was growing darker and Dante wished he’d brought a long umbrella. Both he and Nick carried hidden knives, but the umbrella’s sharp point could become a weapon if necessary. It was also good for tripping or cracking someone across the head.
Over a meal of spinach ravioli and lasagna with sausage, which they washed down with red wine, Dante warned Nick of the delivery appointment they had later in the evening. “I’m feeling a little edgy about it. I can’t wait to get this over with, and the hours will drag until it’s time.”
“We could hire gondolas to take us through some of the smaller canals.” Nick’s face lit up. “In fact, did you know certain gondoliers will look the other way if people even fuck each other in his boat? It isn’t legal, of course, so it costs more, but I have friends who claim they’ve done it.”
Dante kept his delight low so as not to call attention to them. “Getting a little in a public place? That’s always a turn-on.”
“Well, not that public. The buildings come right up to the edge of the canal, so there aren’t any walkways, windows are high and there usually aren’t any balconies. Once in a while, there’s a bridge, but I think for this they stay clear of them.”
“Do the gondoliers jerk off while watching?”
Nick rocked a little, and Dante knew he stifled his humor. “If they did, they shouldn’t be charging extra.”
“How about a threesome?” Dante asked in fun.
“Definitely no charge then!” Nick pushed his empty plate aside and signaled for the check. “I think we’d better leave before I lose all control and burst out laughing.”
As they exited, Dante said under his breath. “If you can arrange it, let’s do it. Don’t tell our lovers. We’ll surprise them.”
Nick took out his phone and spoke with a friend. Clicking off, he said, “Got it. I know which gondoliers are amenable to this.”
“Now we have to convince the vamps about this little adventure.” Just before they exited the restaurant separately through the kitchen door, Dante squeezed Nick’s arm. “I want you to know I’m glad you and Malcolm are together. It’s nice to have a human friend in this foursome.”
Alex and Malcolm were waiting for them outside.
Dante managed to break through Alex’s resistance to the boat ride idea simply because it originated with Nick, whom he didn’t quite trust yet, especially after he’d broken the rule about not leaving the room. “You want us to risk returning to the hotel before we deliver the jewels? What if they’re watching the hotel, or were looking for all of us when they ransacked Nick’s room?”
Nick added, “Since it’s overcast, this is a chance for you to see more of daytime Venice, and I speak enough Italian to arrange the boat rides.” To Malcolm, he said, “I have to tell you, I’m not anxious to be shut up in a room again for hours.”
Dante watched as Malcolm silently signaled Alex, and Alex agreed to the tour. Dante winked at Nick, and a little half smile flashed across Nick’s face and disappeared. It should’ve been a knuckles-to-knuckles victory bump, but this would have to do.
They started off, falling into their previous guarding pattern. As they reached the vicinity of the appropriate dock, Nick went by himself to make the arrangements. While he was pulling euros out of his wallet to reserve their rides, a breeze off the water knocked his hood back. It took a few moments before he got his bright hair covered again.
When he joined Dante, he said, “We have almost forty-five minutes before they finish their current tour. What shall we do until then?”
They chose to meld in with other tourists and cross the glass bridge. When a heavyset older woman, dressed in green plaid slacks that made her rear look the size of a horse blanket, slipped on the glass steps, it was Nick there supporting and steadying her. He took her by the elbow and guided her to the other side, smiling and encouraging her all the while.
Dante thought he could’ve let the woman fall on her fat ass, but despite the speed of the vamps, it had been Nick who’d reached her first. This act of kindness and courtesy impressed Dante. Nick had fit in with the three of them in a quiet, upbeat way, and for a man as model beautiful as he was, he had no airs about him. Dante’s breath had been taken away when he’d first seen him and he’d been relieved when Alex hadn’t fallen under that spell.
Warmth threaded through him because Alex still only had eyes for him.
After crossing the bridge, they wandered into the airport to take a look, and finally Nick said, “It’s time.”
Chapter Nine
“I’ve spotted them,” Derek radioed to Pierre. “They’ve arranged one of the romantic tours. I bribed the boatmen to take them under the bridge near Casanova’s birthplace. They’ll think that’s part of the normal ride. Can you be ready?”
“Right. I’ll meet you there with the equipment.”
“Forget the rappelling gear. We’ll just pull him up.”
“Which one?”
Derek had been the one who’d seen the bag carrier registering in a different hotel, and that had led to a search of his room. The desk clerk insisted he’d checked in alone. “We know who doesn’t have the necklace, so I think we’ll aim for the other healthy guy—the one in the first boat. The other two weirdoes with them are so anemic, they might die under questioning before we got anything out of them.”
“Damn. Wish we knew when they’d make the delivery. It would be easier to rob them in that neighborhood.”
Irritated and feeling his leadership was being questioned, Derek’s voice was sharp when he spoke. “Well, we don’t know, do we? And we couldn’t risk being seen anywhere near that palazzo. Trust me, the buyer will have his own security on watch.”
§§§§
Nick led them to a small slip off a wooden dock marked by tall poles rising above the water. Candy cane stripes had been painted on them, topped by finials colored gold. As he approached, he called out a greeting in Italian and waved their tickets at the two men in their forties standing beside their black-and-gold gondolas.
Both gondoliers were dressed in capri-length black pants topped by tight red-and-white striped shirts made of T-shirt material so snug their muscles were outlined. It was evident rowing had developed their shoulders, chests, and abs. They wore boat shoes and moved nimbly off and on the watercraft.
Nick’s boatman pointed to the two seats in the black wooden boat with golden trim, and gestured they should step down into the craft. Nick accepted a hand as he boarded and sat on a bench with a bright red seat. The backrest, upholstered in red, was shaped like a heart. It was tacky and embarrassed him, but Malcolm was smiling with pleasure as he took his seat beside him. While their friends were being seated in the adjoining gondola, their man donned a traditional straw hat with a black ribbon tied around the crown’s base. The tails flowed down his back.
He picked us his oar and waited.
§§§§
Dante actually laughed out loud as he and Alex were handed onto their red bench with its heart backrest. Once their gondolier’s hat was in place, he stepped aft behind them and began to row.
As Nick’s boat followed, both boatmen began to sing �
�O Sole Mio” in clear tenor voices.
After half an hour of sightseeing along the Grand Canal, Dante’s gondola turned into a narrow side canal, and the rower lit a lantern on the prow and began to hum new love songs. Soon, the busy sounds of tourists on the main walkways hushed, and they made their way through silent, shadowy byways.
“We’re in Casanova’s part of the city,” the gondolier said with knowing in his voice.
Alex took Dante’s hand and leaned over to kiss him. As the kiss deepened and the heat of desire began to smolder, Dante finally broke the kiss long enough to say, “We paid extra for a little exhibitionism. They’re taught to look the other way. Nick and Malcolm haven’t turned into this canal yet. I think we have some privacy.”
Alex’s voice was low and rough. He licked the pulsing vein in Dante’s throat. “Does privacy matter?”
Dante rubbed his hand over the hard bulge rising in Alex’s crotch, and Alex nipped his earlobe. Soon they were engrossed in each other’s bodies, in the sensations soaring from neck to groin. As Dante stood and reached for his zipper to free his painful, needy cock, he noticed they were approaching a bridge. A sudden memory that there weren’t supposed to be any bridges flared in Dante’s mind’s eye.
The gondolier said, “That’s the famous bridge where women bared their tits so the men could ogle them.”
All wrong. All wrong, Dante thought. It was too late. Before he could sit, he felt a sting and the fishy smell of a strong net dropping over him. It swept him off his feet and into the air toward the bridge.
Struggling to free himself, he screamed for Alex, knew Alex had reached for him and missed. Then he was being hauled over the stone railing. He was slammed down on the bridge. The net loosened two of the buttons on his shirt caught in the weave. Two strangers picked him up, net and all, and raced with him along a dark walkway leading from the bridge. As he fought, something sharp—a broken piece of shell trapped in the webbing—sliced his hand. He used the shell to cut the threads and free the buttons.
Where were Alex and Malcolm? He’d expected to see them fly onto the bridge and free him.
Fear stunned him, making it difficult to think. There was no point in crying out because his abductors would gag him, blocking his ability to yell when it might be important. Without a trail to follow, they’d never find him.
The buttons were locked in his fist, and when an intersection came up he dropped one after they turned onto a new path. He did it again at another place where they changed streets. He tore his bloody ring from his finger and clenched it in his fist for fear he’d drop the slippery object.
When they flung open the door to an empty apartment, and there was a scuffle as they almost dropped him before fitting him through, he let his ring drop to the floor as he shouted for Alex in order to cover the sound of it striking the old stone walk.
Pain slammed through his tailbone and left hip as he came in contact with the floor. They left him trapped in the net as they began to question and kick him.
§§§§
The minute he saw the net drop over his lover, Alex yelled, “Malcolm, someone’s taking Dante.” He was standing now, poised to leap and fly, but the boat rocked dangerously under his weight, giving him no purchase. Malcolm’s boat rounded the corner and came into sight, just as Alex lost his balance and plummeted into the salty water.
He heard Malcolm cry, “He can’t swim!”
Drowning was one of his worst fears. Terror almost paralyzed Alex, but he caught the edge of the boat as he fell and gripped it. He pulled his head above water. He had to survive. Dante needed him. His stony weight was tipping the boat and it was in danger of swamping. The boatman scrambled down and knelt on the opposite side of the boat for ballast, but that meant he couldn’t reach out to Alex.
His immortal life was at stake, and Alex knew Malcolm would understand his fear. Would feel it; taste the bitterness as if it were his.
Malcolm said to Nick, “We’re too heavy to float.”
The normally cool and calm Alexandros shook with terror at what might happen to Dante if he couldn’t get to him. “Don’t attempt flight. Can’t push off. You’ll end up in here with me.”
Malcolm’s voice was steady, almost joking as he cautioned, “You know how strong you are, Nicolaides. Relax. Don’t keep those hands in a death grip on that boat. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you out.”
His friend’s calmness helped him control some of his fear. Malcolm was reminding him his strength could splinter the boat, even if it couldn’t pull him out of the water. Alex loosened his hold a little. “Have to find Dante.”
“We’ll find him. We’ll get you out of there and find Rocco.”
Alex watched the second gondolier maneuver his boat’s bow up against the side of the stern of his. Malcolm stretched his body out until his upper half was on Alex’s boat. He reached a hand to that oarsman. “We’re going to change places. Crawl past me. Steady now. Good, you made it.”
Stretching full-length in the flat bottom of Alex’s craft, counterbalancing his friend’s weight as the oarsman had, he gripped Alex’s arms, straining to pull him in. Alex budged only an inch.
“How in Satan’s name did you get so heavy, Nicolaides? Funny, I thought I was strong enough to do this. Let me rest a minute and I’ll try again.”
A faint splash and movement in the water drew Alex’s attention. He whipped his head around, fearing a shark that could crunch him into gravel, then relaxed when he heard Malcolm speak to him.
“That’s Nick, Alex. He’s diving under the gondolas to your side.”
Alex started as Nick surfaced next to him, his blond hair as flat against his head as his was. “Thank God, someone here can swim.”
Nick treaded water. “I’m going to swim under you and lift you up as much as I can. The water will make you lighter. When I squeeze your leg, count the squeezes out loud. Tell Malcolm to pull you on three.”
Panic threatened to undo Alex when he felt the squeeze and thought some undersea creature was wrapping tentacles around him, but he called, “One! Two! Three!” as if Malcolm was deaf. The pull brought him up enough that his shoulders rode on the side of the craft.
Nick bobbed up, gasping for air.
“Again,” Malcolm cried.
Nick dove under and squeezed again.
“Three!”
Malcolm strained hard, and Alex got a leg over the edge and tumbled into the boat. It rocked wildly. “Be still or you’re going to swamp us,” Malcolm said through gritted teeth.
“Hell, yes, I’ll be still. If we both fall in, that’ll be the end of us.”
Slowly, the rocking steadied. Malcolm sat up. Alex joined him and wrapped him in a bear hug. “You saved my life. I owe you big time.”
“Nick and I saved your life and, yes, you owe both of us. Now, what happened to Dante?”
The gondoliers pulled Nick into the other boat, and then, with great care, Malcolm and Alex’s gondoliers exchanged places again.
“Let’s move. I’ll tell you as they row.”
According to the frightened boatmen, they had been paid to take this route so a friend could play a trick on them.
Nick translated for Malcolm. “I think they’re saying they thought they were to shine a light on us while we were naked and having sex.”
It was funny, but too serious under the circumstances to laugh. Malcolm’s face filled with disgust.
Nick’s ticket fees were returned even without his requesting it, and soon they were leaving the boat where a walkway began. Gestures indicated how to walk back to the bridge.
The moment the gondolas were out of sight, Alex said, “Fly.”
They took Nick’s arms and soon stood on the bridge.
Nick pointed to puddles of water. “They went this way.”
They ran fast down the narrow street, despite Nick urging them to slow down because they could get lost.
“No time to lose.” Alex faced Nick and heard the young man g
asp. Alex assumed anger must have turned his eyes golden. He hurried on with the other two trailing in his wake.
They reached an intersection. He signaled a halt. Closing his eyes, he sniffed the air. “Smell it?”
Malcolm nodded. “Dante’s.”
Nick knelt and picked up a bloody button. “This?”
Nodding, Alex snatched it from his hand and inhaled the scent, as if it held the promise of salvation. “Watch for more.”
At the next intersection, he and Malcolm were testing the air, but Nick was staring at the path. “Here’s another.”
They headed off in that direction. They didn’t get far before Alex stopped on a dime, put his hand up, shook his head and whirled around. He lifted his brows in a question directed at Malcolm.
“Yes. Stronger in the direction we were heading.”
“But the button’s in this corridor,” Nick said.
“Alex and I can smell his blood.”
“Oh…of course.”
§§§§
They wore close fitting, elegantly painted carnival masks. Dante only saw his captor’s eyes.
Green eyes wore a woman’s mask, but there was nothing feminine about his wide, muscular body. Or his hard, pummeling fists. His name was Derek.
The tiger mask with the caramel eyes was Pierre’s. His whiskey voice was gruff, and Dante almost gagged when he drew close. His breath and body odor came close to matching that of the homeless guy Malcolm had hypnotized.
The tiger began by kicking him with booted feet, demanding he tell them where the jewels were. Dante refused to speak or cry out. But after a time, he couldn’t hold back gasps of pain and grunts as the air was slammed out of him and he felt skin splitting and bruises rising. When they yanked the netting away from his face and slapped him repeatedly, he managed to shape his swollen lips to say, “Wrong people. Not us.”
That only brought more punches and kicks.
“Maybe we need to start on his fingers,” Pierre said.
Inside, Dante groaned. The necklace was in the part of the belt crossing the arch of his spine just above his butt, and he tried to protect the jewels and gold chain from the kicks and punches by staying on his back and drawing his knees up to protect his gut. He’d learned their names by concentrating as they talked to each other. It helped him hold onto consciousness.
Night Train to Venice Page 9
