CHAPTER TEN
A century before, people had an expression: man cave, referring to a place within a household where the male of said house could be manly, which mostly involved doing disorderly manly things. This kept their gadgets, games, and other “man” stuff away from the ladies of the place to avoid upsetting them. They entered a room with an enormous pool table, arcade video game machines, sports paraphernalia (collectibles from the Golden Siroccos, the most popular fae soccer team, figured prominently in one corner), even ancient weapons from a mish-mash of cultures hung beside Formula 1 posters. It was the epitome of man cave, not just because they were literally in a cave, but because the only thing that could make the room any manlier would be for the rock-carved walls to have chest hair. Coming from Tiger, who was as hairless as an eight ball, to say that chest hair equated to manliness was ironic; nonetheless, life had given him other things that surpassed hairy pecs.
Abattoir opened a giant fridge bursting at the seams with beers and pitched one to each of the supras. “Too early for humans?”
It was the middle of the summer and the sun went up seriously early. So, yeah it was an ungodly time of day to be drinking, but Tiger said, “It’s got to be happy hour somewhere.” He caught a beer pitched his way.
Bunny opened his beer with his teeth, and the supras cheered, all except Tats.
A holo-remote appeared on Gaol’s palm; he turned on the giant screen on the only smooth wall of the supracave. A round, firm ass was the first thing occupying most of the wide space.
“I know that ass anywhere!” Tiger blurted without thinking. He saw the way Bunny flinched and snorted. Tiger flinched inwardly a little and added softly, “That’s Channing Tatum in Magic Mike.”
Typical early morning programming: last century movies, not necessarily the most enlightening, but entertaining.
“Damn, you know your asses.” Bones snickered as he sat cross-legged on a huge, circular leather seat.
“Yeah, yeah, Channing was hot, but that Manganiello guy was way hotter.” Gaol punched buttons in his palm and the movie fast-forwarded to Joe Manganiello dancing on a stage dressed as an early 2000s firefighter. In 2125, they used bodysuits so bulky there was nothing sexy about them.
“You know Manganiello used to play a werewolf in a show called True Blood. It was mostly about vampires but it was a good show.” Abattoir took a pull of his beer as he also assumed a cross-legged position over the bluish mist cloud he favored to move around.
Obviously, old vampire shows were a hit in the West Area, except for the Twilight Saga. There was a ban on those movies. Vamps were not happy about those shiny misconceptions; according to them, it was an insult to their kind.
Tiger couldn’t care less.
“Some people say that True Blood show was a prediction of the times we’re living in.” Bunny turned a chair around and straddled it, using the back to rest his chest, crossing his forearms over it. Those tribal tattoos on his arms made him look rowdy.
Tiger had to admit the position showed how nice and solid Bunny’s ass was. The kid looked intently at the screen as Gaol surfed options. The warlock found the True Blood show and chose an episode mostly focused on werewolves.
“That’s one hot-ass beast,” commented Ami two seconds after she materialized in the room as Manganiello transformed from wolf to glorious nakedness.
“That idiot is no werewolf.” Tats shook his shoulders as if ready to shift.
Ami rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you bitchy today? What’s wrong with you? We’re not even near the full moon. You’re worse than a female human on her period.”
Her words made Tats flinch, and that added another one to the flinch score inside the supras’ man cave. Ami moved to the fridge and got a beer for herself. “So, are they in love or what?” she asked, looking straight at Tats.
“Yes, they are.”
Are we?
True, there was maybe five percent of Tiger that wasn’t acting. His attraction to Bunny was becoming stronger by the minute, but from that to actually looking like they were in love was a huge stretch. Still, both Bunny and he were excellent actors, thus there was no way to blame the supras for being so gullible.
Someone staked a vampire on the show; it exploded into a blob of red mess, just like they did in real life. Whoever wrote that show knew vampires. A collective whoop emerged, accompanied by the rise of beer bottles. Funny, because Tiger was almost sure they were still in the chunk of Texas that was part of the West Area, or as these supras would say, “Vampland.”
“That’s the thing I don’t understand about vampires. They are quote unquote immortals, which means not subject to death, but you can kill them. Shouldn’t they be called longevous or long-lived instead of immortals?” Bunny commented as he finished his beer. The way his Adam’s apple moved with the last swallow had Tiger’s cock thinking about becoming a rock.
Well, desire ain’t love, right?
“Vampires have perpetuated that bullshit myth so people think they are invincible.” Bones abandoned the leather seat and went for more beer. “Guys?” he asked to the room at large, waving a beer bottle.
Deixis sat with his elbows resting on his thighs, slowly turning the beer bottle and staring at it, as if in its rotation was the answer to all the mysteries of the universe. That two-timing, no good, son of a fae bitch knew Tiger had some extra genes in him and hadn’t ever said a word. They were going to have words. He started to move toward the bastard when a firm grip held him in place; Tiger swiveled to face whoever it was, and was shocked to see it was Ami.
“It’s time to check the veracity of your claims,” she said with a hiked eyebrow.
“Be my guest, then.” Tiger shrugged her off. “Do I need to be naked for that? ’Cause these fuckers didn’t get their show.”
“Nudity is unnecessary, but if you feel the need to flaunt all that—” she did an up and down motion, pointing at his body “—I wouldn’t mind the show.”
“Ahem.” Bunny pulled him away from Ami. “Love, be nice.”
Was that a faint trace of jealousy in Bunny’s sweet voice? Nah, Tiger must be imagining things. Did he want to imagine things? No, no, he didn’t.
“Someone doesn’t want you to parade all that.” Bones snickered.
“Dressed it is. Please lie down.”
Tiger made himself comfortable on the large, circular leather seat. It was like a giant, navy blue cheese wheel.
She put up her hand so the holo-remote could float toward it. A few key punches, and True Blood turned into static.
“Now, close your eyes and let me do my thing.” Ami helped him to close his eyes with a soft hand gliding over his eyelids.
Immediately, Tiger felt weight over his eyes, like smooth stones or coins, and the image of how people burnt their dead in antiquity (putting coins on their eyes for the boatman) made him shudder.
That uneasiness was the last thing he remembered.
****
CHAPTER ELEVEN
K didn’t know what to think about the stones (one white, the other black) that Ami set over Tiger’s eyes. They didn’t look heavy, but Tiger instantly went rigid and appeared not to be breathing. He tried to go to Tiger, but Abattoir held him in place. “He’s all right. She knows what she’s doing,” he said soothingly and slowly released K.
Short of kicking and thrashing, the only option was to wait and see what would happen.
Ami chanted over Tiger’s head, doing hand passes as if she was rifling through a really messy underwear drawer. K tried to stay alert (because they were still unsure of the supras’ real intentions) but that unnamed thing inside him giggled. Amid a situation like this, any other person would have thought of Ami’s actions as rummaging through a socks drawer, or something less lusty. But not him. For reasons K didn’t have the courage to start investigating, he saw himself sneaking to sniff Tiger’s used undies in a dark corner of a laundry room, even if his filthy mind insisted that Tiger usually went commando, which did
n’t help a bit with the growing bulge in his pants.
Tiger’s lips were slightly parted, and that mouth looked kissable and inviting.
“Not so fast.”
K wheeled around, startled by Marcus’s voice within the cave. The vampire was supposed to be dead.
“Who is this man taking you upstairs?” The hiss came from the wall screen that had been full of static only a moment earlier. Marcus’s murderous glare was aimed at K. No— not at K, but at Tiger. The screen was showing what happened from Tiger’s perspective.
“I’m his fuckin’ husband. We havin’ a problem, vamp?” Tiger’s narrowed eyes focused on Marcus’s hand around K’s arm, and the image had a red tinge to it.
“We do now.” Marcus’s fangs emerged, and K was thrown to the upper landing.
Now K saw those few seconds he had not witnessed before. Surprisingly, the images moved in slow motion as if Ami had activated the frame-by-frame option. Marcus jumped, and Tiger caught him by the waist and threw him into the middle of the bar to land on a full table, all its occupants scattering before being clearly aware of what was happening. Jabs, kicks, headbutts, fangs, claws moved disturbingly fast in what was supposed to be an unhurried recollection.
“Why are you playing with the speed?” Tats asked in his usual gruff tone.
“I’m not doing anything. Tiger has the bardagamaður trait. During battle, the actions of others will slow for the warrior so he can make the right decisions to attack more effectively. That’s the fae in him.”
“Asshole,” Tats said under his breath this time.
Where are some fucking silver bullets when you need them?
“So what we’re seeing as fast must be happening at lightning speed.” Abattoir ran his hand over his face and whistled.
“He said he had special training,” K offered defiantly.
“That might be true, but without bardagamaður that would be for naught.” Ami smiled. “Perhaps one regular human in a million can learn to fight at vampire speed with training, but the fae in Tiger makes it second nature to him.”
Tiger beheaded Marcus, and all the supras in the room (except Ami) cheered, “YES.”
The images moved through the crowd, Tiger was looking for K. Vampires came out of the woodwork, and a brawl of epic proportions started. It was weird to see things from this disembodied perspective. K saw himself draw his weapon and move down the stairs two at a time. But there was something in him that wasn’t there before; some kind of glow was emerging from every surface of his body that wasn’t covered by clothes.
The supras looked at K askance.
“I told you he wasn’t human.”
Okay, no silver bullets, what about a muzzle?
“Tats, you need to chill out. I’m starting to think this is a kindergarten crush. You act like you hate him, but in reality you’ve got the hots for him.” Gaol’s tone was one of amusement, but his face was a terrifying mask of disdain. And that ridiculous Viking helmet paired with impossibly thick arms made it even worse. Gaol looked downright savage.
The wolf growled but didn’t say another word. Back on the screen, Tiger was pulling K out of the bar, and, as they ran together, Tiger looked back several times, and the glow was less visible each time.
“I guess we ain’t stayin’ here tonight.” Tiger’s voice had the ring of someone enjoying himself far too much, then his eyes closed and something like a moan emerged.
K calculated it had been the moment when he circled Tiger’s waist and held on for dear life. K felt his face on fire, and that was something that wasn’t supposed to happen to a companion.
“You’re an intriguing little thing,” commented Deixis, suddenly beside him. He traced a finger downward along K’s arm. “We need to find out what you are.”
“Deixis,” Ami warned. “He’s not a thing, and he has a husband.”
“How daring the fae when my husband is unconscious.” K tilted his head a little. “Before that you were acting all suicidal. Just because he is blond doesn’t mean I like all blonds.”
“How dare you?” Deixis’s eyes flashed red.
Abattoir stepped between them. “The boy is right. What’s up with you?”
“He’s not a supra.” Deixis shrugged. “What if he’s a threat to us?”
“Yeah,” Tats agreed.
“Listen, wolf.” K swiveled to face Tats. “You need to get the fuck out of my balls before whatever I am explodes in your face.”
Ami made a placating gesture and walked to K. “Do you know what you are?”
K shook his head. “It’s the first time I’ve heard something is different about me.”
“Tiger didn’t say anything about you glowing like that?”
“No.”
“Do you want us to find out?”
Do I?
Ami had assured they would be left alone if the vampire’s murder had been in self-defense, but what if these supras decided he was dangerous once they discovered what made him different? K only wanted to be human, to be human in Meridian.
Perhaps with Tiger by his side.
“What I want right now is for you to wake my husband up.”
****
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Tiger woke up, his bike was full-size again, and it was in the middle of the supras’ man cave. He was told in a rather firm tone to get a shower and change clothes as breakfast was put together.
Bunny had an undecipherable expression on his face, his hands in his pockets. He wore a red sleeveless hooded T-shirt that made him look like a little kid who had lost his parents in some supermall.
Showered and fed, Tiger was extremely ready to say thanks-y’all-and-buh-bye when they explained their intention to test Bunny.
“No fuckin’ way. Y’all ain’t doin’ no experiments on him,” Tiger spat as he pulled Bunny closer— by the shoulders because he didn’t want the kid to knee him in his testes.
Bunny circled Tiger’s waist possessively. “You heard him. Can we go now?”
“But you saw the glow coming from him.” Bones bobbed his head, his inquiring eyes devouring Tiger. “Aren’t you curious at least?”
“I didn’t see nothin’,” Tiger lied. He had seen it, but (with all the shit happening around them) he hadn’t given it too much thought. Right now his only concern was to get away from these supras. “Y’all as suprabein’s are bonded to your word. Self-defense equals Freedom. You did your mumbo-jumbo, we leave.”
“That was before we knew he was something weird.” Tats stalked toward them.
“I thought Gaol muzzled you, werewolf. When are you going to shut the fuck up?” Bunny barked.
“Shhh, love.” Tiger kissed the top of Bunny’s head, moving his hand up and down along Bunny’s arm in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “Remember your own words, we’re outnumbered.”
“I know that, but this idiot is trying my patience.”
“I heard that.” Tats shuddered, and his eyes flashed gold.
“He wasn’t whispering,” Bones said and pulled Tats by the wrist with a chuckle.
“Ami said this after we arrived and Tats had informed her of his concerns about Bunny and I, so yes, freedom was offered with the knowledge of our, er, differences on the table.”
Gaol moved from the wall where he had been leaning with his arms crossed. “Tiger’s right. Let’s let them go to be someone else’s problem. It is their right to defend themselves and their bond, as they did against that clingy bloodsucker.”
“What if he’s dangerous to us supras?” Deixis wasn’t looking at Bunny and Tiger but actually pleading with Ami.
“We chose to live in exile, so it isn’t up to us to protect the rest of the suprabeings.” Gaol stopped, facing Deixis.
Tiger forgot he was trying to be diplomatic. “Deixis, you motherfucker.”
“Oh, shut up, Themistocles. I know your only true love is gold. You probably just made him fall in love with you to take him some place where humans could study him and
get a reward for your troubles.”
Before Deixis could close his mouth properly or Tiger could react to the words, Bunny had already launched himself at Deixis, delivering a right hook to the jaw and a well-aimed knee in the fae’s kiwis. They went to the floor together, and Bunny became a punch machine. Everybody was too startled for a moment to do anything, even Deixis.
Tiger jumped to pull Bunny away because he knew the moment the fae came back to his senses Bunny would be in a whole world of trouble. “Please, baby.” He embraced Bunny to restrain him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Bunny froze in Tiger’s arms, and let Tiger pull him off Deixis. He turned around, still encircled by Tiger’s embrace, and hissed, “He doesn’t have the right to question your loyalty. I know you’ll never betray me like that.”
And with those words, just like that, Tiger knew he would never betray Bunny consciously. He brushed Bunny’s hair. “I’ll never hurt you, love.” He kissed the top of Bunny’s head, and Bunny grabbed his face and pulled Tiger down for a kiss that was desperate, hungry, demanding.
There were no supras, no cave, no vampire’s murder, just them, and Tiger hiked Bunny up, lean legs wrapping around Tiger’s waist, and their arms turning into the ferocious tentacles of the Kraken, vying to claim and conquer.
Yes, these weren’t the acres of hair Tiger loved; the weight he was so desperately clinging to lacked (at least) eighty pounds of the usual amount his arms were used to handling. Still, everything in little Bunny was manly and glorious and abso-fucking-lutely delicious. And Tiger wanted this lightweight piece of heaven like he hadn’t wanted anything in eons.
The thing was, amid all the I-want-to-eat-you and I-don’t-care-if-you-ain’t-six-four-and-two-hundred-fifty-pounds explosion of desire, there was something else, something more serene and grounding and freaking scary. But as Bunny’s tongue inspected (with unquestionable authority) the depths of Tiger’s mouth, Tiger didn’t have the wherewithal to herd his brain cells to cohesion. He was all instincts and sweet, irrevocable need.
His hands found the hem of Bunny’s tee, and he was in the frantic process of pulling it upward to get rid of it to lap at creamy, pale skin like a hungry beast when a cough stopped him short.
Meridian Page 5
