Table of Contents
DESCRIPTION
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY
END CREDITS
BUZZ & BLOW
The Sangre Brotherhood – Book One
ALEX CARRERAS
In Sangre, Florida, vampires and humans live in a peaceful co-existence until a string of murders starts to threaten their tranquil way of life.
All Asher Riots wants to do is work at Everlasting, the salon where he styles hair nightly, with his friends Jerrod and Tory.
But when Niko Torres, the new barber at Killer Kuts across the street, begins to show an interest in Asher, his predictable life starts to become unpredictable . . . and dangerous.
While attempting to clear Niko’s cousin, Mario of involvement in the murders, the barbers and hairstylists band together to do what it takes to save Sangre and possibly themselves.
It’s hard trying to stay alive when you’re immortal.
PUBLISHER NOTE: A M/M Vampire Romance
BUZZ & BLOW
The Sangre Brotherhood – Book One
ALEX CARRERAS
WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM
LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP
BUZZ & BLOW
The Sangre Brotherhood – Book One
Copyright © January 2018 ALEX CARRERAS
ISBN: 978-1-370255-66-5
Cover Art by Poppy Designs
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and the following trademark owners mentioned in this work of fiction:
Armani
Home Box Office (HBO)
Gauloises
Converse
Gucci
Glock
Hermes
DEDICATION
Thanks, Luminosity staff for all your hard work. I greatly appreciate everything you do.
CHAPTER ONE
Asher Riots unlocked the door to Everlasting, the salon he had worked at since arriving in the Sunshine State.
Normally the blazing sun wasn’t a vampire’s best friend, but after spending a hundred plus years in the northern United States, it was time for balmy breezes to warm his chilled skin, and soft, sandy beaches to tread on when the moon was full and high in the night sky, no matter what the season.
Stepping through the threshold, he inhaled the distinctive scents of the salon that made his senses tingle with excitement. The familiar smells of the hairsprays, gels, and lotions made him thankful that he had chosen this profession before he became what he was today — a member of the undead. His parents had coiffed the elite of Paris society, and their talents and attention to detail had been passed on to their son who possessed the same talents it took to excel in the beauty industry.
But times and styles had changed, leaving Asher longing for the days of platinum powdered wigs worn by courtesans, instead of bold, garish colors embraced by America’s youth. Releasing a sigh, he flipped on the neon “Open” sign that hung in the window. Looking out onto the street, he noticed that the barbershop across the way was still closed. Although attractive, the barbers were bad news, and they attracted similar clientele that made Asher’s skin crawl, but excited his lust for rough trade. He never admitted this to his boss, Jerrod, but Tory, his coworker, suspected as much, judging by the smirk on his glossed lips whenever he caught Asher gazing at the comings and goings of the barbershop during the slow periods at the salon. Tory liked to play dumb, but he was anything but. Asher suspected that Tory preferred it that way because less would be expected of him. He was only fooling himself. Jerrod would never have hired the twink with a penchant for all things shiny if he believed that was true. Jerrod only took on vampires who showed potential. And if that potential wasn’t realized, they’d be asked to leave. Many had passed through the doors of Everlasting, but only Asher had withstood the test of time.
“They’re in there.” Jerrod strutted through the door on a gust of wind, his deep baritone reverberating in Asher’s chest. “Can’t you smell them?”
“I can smell something, all right,” Asher mumbled under his breath before turning to see the man who had saved him from his own self-loathing when he arrived in Sangre, Florida, years ago. “And it smells like someone is wearing too much cologne.” Asher eyed his friend’s black-from-head-to-toe outfit. It was very hairdresser. And very vampire.
“Funny,” Jerrod grumbled, shooting a look at Asher. “I can sense something’s up, but I can’t figure out what, exactly. Have you heard any tongues wagging in the street?”
“Nope,” Asher returned. “But I don’t usually listen to gossip. Ask Tory. He’d know if there is anything to know.”
Jerrod chuckled. “He’s late,” he said without looking at the clock on the wall. “What are we going to do about that guy?”
Just then, the man in question swished through the door, his strut better than any super model’s. “Are you two talking about me again?” Tory made it to the middle of the salon and twirled. “What do you think? It was a gift from an admirer.”
They turned and looked at the twink. “What are we looking at?” Asher asked. “The platform shoes, the spray-on jeans, the man purse? At least, I believe that’s a man purse? We may have powers others don’t possess, but there is so much going on with that outfit my telepathy is blocked by all that bedazzled bling.”
Tory cocked a hip and pursed his lips. “You’re just jealous that your chunky thighs can’t wear such fashionable clothing.” He extended his arm and shook it, a gold chain link bracelet catching the light. “And you call yourselves vampires. We’re supposed to be observant.”
Asher stepped forward, angling for a better look. “Fancy. Must’ve set the guy back a bit. Do we know who this admirer is?”
“He better not be a client,” Jerrod warned, his arms crossed over his permanently pumped chest. “I don’t have many rules, but no dating the clients is one of them.”
Tory rolled his eyes. “He’s not. He owns a jewelry store out on Boca Ciega Key. You know, the one with all those sparkly diamonds and emeralds in the window.” Tory sighed. “Makes a boy’s heart skip a few beats.”
“Maybe yours,” Asher said
“But not ours,” Jerrod finished.
“Well, we know what makes your heart go pitter-patter. Men, men, and more men.”
“Us?” Asher made a derisive noise with the back of his throat. “And how about you? You’re the one who collects admirers like Jerrod collects black leather jackets.”
“Don’t bring me into this,” Jerrod warned. “It’s between the two of you. I got better things to do with my time, like prepare for Countess Anoushka who will be here at midnight sharp for her blood-red signature hair color.”
“You can prepare all you want for that witch,” Tory said before spinning on his heel and heading for his station, “and she’ll still complain about something.”
“She’s an old friend,” Jerrod reminded him, “and she’s been a great ally across the centuries, so remember to treat her with the respect she de
serves.”
Tory busied himself at his stylist station, rearranging bottles and brushes along the specially made mirrors even a vampire could admire. “I wouldn’t dare do anything else for the fear that she would turn me into a frog or roach or something equally as repulsive.” He stuck out his tongue. “I’d never have any fun living for the rest of eternity as a bug. How disgusting.”
“I don’t know,” Asher mused. “I’m sure you could pass the time hanging out on a leaf somewhere gorgeous. The Amalfi coast in Italy, maybe?”
Tory scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Then you piss off that old shrew and report back to me. I’m staying right here, thank you very much.”
Jerrod shot Tory a look of warning. “The Countess isn’t the only one who possesses the power to cast spells.”
“Then who would bring all the new blood to Everlasting if you got rid of me?” Tory questioned, his tone haughty. “You two? I think not. You don’t exactly scream cool and trendy and cutting edge.”
“Amen,” Asher said. “You can do all the newbie freaks with rainbow colored hair. Give me the ladies who still remember who Josephine Bonaparte was. Now those are loyal clients who leave good tips.”
“Stop squabbling, or you both are going to end up in an entomology exhibit if you’re not careful,” Jerrod said.
Asher smiled, but suspected that his boss was capable of carrying through with his threat if pushed to his limit. “Speaking of things that crawl in the night, what’s up with the guys across the street?”
“You didn’t hear this from me, but the word is one of the barbers disappeared without a trace. Poof. Left, just like that.” Tory shrugged.
“Which one?” Asher asked.
Tory lifted his gaze, making direct eye contact with Asher. Not the one you dream of, Tory replied telepathically and winked. “The built black guy with the gold incisors.” Tory visibly shivered. “He was one scary ass dude.”
“And no one knows where he is?” Asher questioned. “What happened to him?”
“Probably got sick of the heat. It really can become oppressive.” Tory turned and walked toward the dispensary in the back of the salon.
Asher knew he was being ridiculous, but he was glad that the one they called Niko was still there. They had never spoken, but Asher recognized the look in the vampire’s amber colored eyes — no doubt the same look that was in Asher’s — a look of lust wrapped in an overwhelming need. Ever since Asher had spotted Niko smoking a cigarette on the street outside Killer Kuts, thoughts of taking the alluring vampire every which way possible infiltrated his brain all night long while he worked, and all day while he slept. It was torture being so close to something he wanted so badly but was just out of reach. Or was he?
Asher shook his head, clearing his thoughts.
“You okay there?” Jerrod asked. “You seem . . . preoccupied this evening.”
“Me?” Asher felt a bead of cold sweat form on the back of his neck. “Everything’s fine. You’re just extra sensitive tonight. Probably the full moon.”
Jerrod grunted a response.
Asher attempted to change the subject. “Doing anything after work? I hear Resurrection is having a two for one and it’s really bringing in the new meat.”
“Is that an invitation, because I could be tempted?” Jerrod removed his slim fitting, Armani leather jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the entrance. Asher appreciated the view of Jerrod’s muscular body. He had always wondered what it would be like to have sex with the uber-sexy vampire, but the man certainly wasn’t easy to get along with, and Asher wanted to keep his life simple, rather than complicated. He’d had enough drama over the last few centuries and had vowed that the next few would be smooth sailing. So far, his plan had worked out. Fighting back the urge to gaze out onto the street for Niko, Asher whispered, “Uncomplicated” under his breath, reminding himself.
“What was that?” Jerrod asked.
“I said, let’s get this party started,” Asher replied. “I’m tired of standing around chit-chatting. Let’s do some hair.”
Jerrod smiled. “Now that’s the spirit.”
“And hitting the late night happy hour at Resurrection sounds like one hell of a good idea.”
CHAPTER TWO
Asher wasn’t sure if it was the thumping in his skull or the irritating and repetitive music at Resurrection that was more painful. At this point, he didn’t really give a shit, he just wanted to go home and settle down with a nice Chianti and HBO. Anything was better than watching unchanged tramps solicit favors for a ticket to eternal life.
As fucking if!
Shoving a shaved-headed twink jumped-up on drugs out of the way, Asher headed for the bathroom before he ripped the kid’s head off. He had tried to be nice, but apparently, the twink needed someone to kick his ass to understand that Asher didn’t want to be responsible for the wannabe, for the rest of his life. Vampire 101 was not Asher’s thing. He’d done that a few times already and it had never gone well. His changelings had either ended up resenting him for making the change, or had become too big for their britches, going off on their own before it was time, and ending up battered and beaten, and some, even dead. Asher was done with that scene. But then what? What was he supposed to do with his life? Cut bobs for long-dead debutantes for the rest of eternity?
Pushing through the door marked “Gents,” he headed for a vacant urinal, dodging a human having his neck sucked on by a new recruit Asher didn’t recognize. But living in a resort town, there were plenty of transients, human and previously human, who passed through, especially vampires from turbulent countries like Venezuela, Mexico, and Russia. Asher preferred the Latinos; smooth talking vamps with even smoother skin, but the Russians proved a little too coarse for his taste. Apparently, the human didn’t think so, his deep, guttural groans rising over the clamor of the crowded bathroom. Whipping himself out, Asher unloaded his bladder, the sickening scent of the deodorizer disc in the drain of the urinal making him feel queasy.
When he was human, Asher had always been sensitive to scents, but after going through the change, his sense of smell had grown so strong that he could differentiate between most species of flowers, and he once predicted an oncoming hurricane before the Weather Channel by three rapid sniffs tilted in the right direction. Normally, this was something he loved about being a vampire, but at the moment, the American wearing too much cologne and the Russian vampire who was lacking in hygiene, combined with the urinal deodorizer, was pushing him over the edge toward the mother of all migraines. All Asher had wanted to do tonight after work was to blow off some steam by checking out some cute guys, have a dance or two, and take advantage of the happy hour drink prices. But it appeared he should have headed straight home instead. So far, the night was a total bust. Whatever he had expected, this was not it.
Zipping up, Asher stepped away from the urinal and walked to the sink to wash his hands. Taking a deep, sustaining breath and wiping his hands on his pants, he headed out into the throng of drunk, sweaty bodies that, on a regular night, would have been a temptation. But since laying eyes on the barber from Killer Kuts, his was the only sweaty body Asher wanted to see. Asher couldn’t stop fantasizing about the hunky vampire’s broad chest, chiseled abs, powerful thighs, and soulful piercing eyes. Asher groaned, imagining Niko’s long-fingered hands caressing him in all the right places, instead of whoever is was feeling him up at the moment. Asher spun, ready to tear the pervert groping his ass a new one.
“Niko.”
The caramel skinned vampire ran his tongue over his bottom lip and leveled his gaze. “So, you know my name?”
“Uhhh. . .” Asher choked on his words. He attempted to speak again. “Of course. Your name is painted on the window of the shop. I look at it every night.”
“I see you looking at me, not my name on the window. Do you like what you see?”
The temperature in the cavernous club ratcheted up a few degrees, and Asher’s cold blood felt like it was about to boil.
He had to remain cool at all costs. And if Jerrod, who was standing at the bar, saw Asher speaking with Niko . . . well let’s just say tomorrow would suck at work. He hated it when Jerrod was in a bad mood, it usually meant that everyone else would be too.
Niko leaned in, his sweet-smelling breath blowing across Asher’s heated skin. “Can I take your silence as a yes then?”
You can take the hard-on in my pants as a yes. “I’m indifferent.” Asher’s attempt to sound casual was bordering on the pathetic. “Some might find you attractive.”
Niko’s laugh was nothing but a low chuckle. “You know who’s attractive?” Niko didn’t wait for Asher’s response. “You.”
Damn, if the man didn’t take a step back, Asher was going to end up sprawled face first on the floor, Asher’s fear of fainting a legitimate one. He pictured a tweaked out twink using his back as a dance floor. “Thanks,” Asher managed to squeak out. “I try really hard to stay in shape. I eat right, go to the gym, stay out of the sun.”
Niko’s chuckle turned into a full out laugh. “We all try to do that. Helps to keep us from turning into a pile of soot.”
Asher could picture his translucent cheeks reddening to a deep crimson. He was a blusher even before he had become a vampire. It was from his mother’s side of the family. “What I’m trying to say is, I try to take care of myself.”
Asher spied a vein in Niko’s sinewy neck, thick and throbbing. The attractive vampire ran a finger over the area that Asher couldn’t pull his eyes from. “Would you like a drink?”
Asher swallowed hard.
“I was thinking more along the lines of a Cuba Libre.” Niko hitched a brow. “But if you’re willing?”
“No, no, no.” The words tumbled from Asher’s lips as the room began to spin. “My boss is waiting at the bar, and I probably should be going soon so. . .”
Buzz & Blow Page 1
