Night Train to New Orleans

by Caroline Valdez

  He grinned and shook his head. This was definitely the New World if New Orleans wasn’t established by the French until the seventeen hundreds, and 1862 seemed historic to Americans. What he’d seen so far of the city was unique and charming, unlike any other city he’d ever visited as a courier. He liked the French Quarter, with its houses set right against the sidewalks and the wrought iron balustrades draped with tropical flowers. Still, to him it was almost contemporary compared to Italy, a country dating back two thousand years before Christ.

  Inside the coffee house, he ordered freshly squeezed orange juice, beignets, and his coffee au lait. He didn’t think his stomach was ready for strong coffee straight. Beignet, he knew, meant donut to the French. To Americans, that was a round piece of fried sweet dough with a hole in the center. Here they turned out to be puffy squares of fried dough generously dusted with powdered sugar. They were delicious and a nice contrast to a coffee that was still strong despite being laced with milk.

  After returning to Alex’s house, he called the airport and learned his luggage had arrived, so he took a taxi there and back. He was in the courtyard reading when a voice said, “Good afternoon.” He started. Alex was crouching in front of him, dressed in cargo shorts that almost reached his knees, a T-shirt with a Dixieland band name printed on the front, and Skechers shoes. He’d pulled his hair back at eye level and woven it into a single braid just as he had in Italy. The rest hung over his shoulders and down his back. The bare portion of his legs was covered with fine blond hair. Dante’s gaze moved swiftly to the package hidden by the zipper of those pants, envisioning the blond curls nesting between Alex’s hips and the cock ready to spring up from them. He knew he was blushing because his face was suddenly hot.

  “Something wrong?” A half-smile deepened a dimple on one side of Alex’s lips.

  Damn him, Alex knew where Dante’s gaze and thus his thoughts had wandered. He lied with, “No, you surprised me, that’s all. I was lost in the story of the Count of Monte Cristo. Hello, Alex.” The memory of sex with Alex prevented him from clearing the rough softness of his voice.

  Alex rose and sat in the chair beside him, his leg rubbing against Dante’s. Dante looked at how the blond hairs mingled with the dark ones on his leg and was dangerously close to kissing him.

  “I enjoyed that book—all that angst and then justice. It’s a classic. How are you feeling, and how has your day gone?”

  Dante apologized for drinking so much and thanked him for putting him to bed, plus the laundry thing. “I think the aspirin helped. Not much”—he grinned—“but I took more this morning and feel much better.”

  The question wasn’t small talk; Alex was listening to him, obviously interested in and enjoying what Dante had to say. So Dante told him about his trip to the Café Du Monde and then to the airport. “As you can see by what I’m wearing, I retrieved my luggage. What shall I wear to dinner to meet your friend?”

  “You are fine the way you are. We are going to a casual place known for its gumbo—a Cajun dish famous in Louisiana. I understand it contains local shrimp, a French pork sausage called andouille that’s very hot, and things like onion, parsley, and okra. My friend and coworker, Malcolm, will meet us there.”

  §§§§

  Malcolm met them just outside the door to the restaurant. There was no mistaking his vampire nature. He wasn’t gorgeous like Alex, but his face was handsome and had the same porcelain luminescence. Shorter and heavier than his fellow courier, his slight paunch led Dante to believe his “living death” had begun in his early forties. Dante recognized a slight German accent, and there was a military presence about him. When Alex introduced them, he made a slight courtly bow. For a minute, Dante thought he was going to click his heels at the same time.

  “My pleasure, Mr. Rocco,” Malcolm said. “Any friend of Alex’s is a friend to me.”

  “Pleased to meet you, but just call me Dante. Alex speaks well of you.”

  “As he does of you. We’re excited to have you here. We need some new blood.” Then, realizing what he’d said, he laughed. “No pun intended.”

  The waitress recognized the vamps, and when she brought a fine Chardonnay for Dante with his dinner, she also brought wine glasses filled with blood instead of red wine for his dinner partners. As Dante glanced around the room, he realized one of the waiters was a vamp. So was the bartender. None of the other customers seemed to notice. Dante chuckled.

  “Something is funny?” Alex asked.

  “I was just noticing the bartender and that waiter at the next table.”

  Malcolm smiled. “Ah, yes. You have to be acquainted with the species to notice.”

  But the drinking of blood in public created unease in Dante. What would happen if someone who wasn’t aware of the vamps noticed the contents of their wine glasses? He shuddered.

  As if he’d read his thoughts, Alex’s hand touched his thigh under the table to reassure him. “This may not be the Stoker, but it’s not a problem. Trust me.”

  “Have you interviewed with our CEO yet, Dante?”

  “No, I haven’t.” Dante was grateful for the change of subject and the continued presence of Alex’s hand on his thigh. “Haven’t been here long enough, really.”

  “Alex will need to introduce you to Count de Bienville, too, and pay the bounty.”

  Dante turned to look at Alex.

  “We have not discussed that yet, Malcolm,” Alex warned.

  “Sorry, my friend. Didn’t mean to speak out of turn.”

  “Malcolm often drives the courier vans to make our deliveries. As you know, one of my jobs is to seek out new business as well as deliver. Dante’s experience is much the same as mine, Malcolm, and he shares my love of gems, but he isn’t trained in gemology.”

  They talked for a long time, and Dante enjoyed it. He had coffee with his dessert and refused all but the one glass of wine he’d had with his meal. He sensed that pleased Alex. Or maybe relieved was the better word. When Malcolm offered to drive them home, Dante admitted he was tired. The car was parked in front of the restaurant.

  Dante stopped and burst out laughing when he saw it. “I can’t believe this. Truly, I can’t. Bright green and a convertible…is this what it means to be a New Orleans courier? You need a flashy car?”

  They all laughed together, and since Malcolm was obviously proud of his new automobile, he didn’t take offense.

  When Alex unlocked the door to his home and shut off the alarm, Dante felt his palms begin to sweat as they stepped inside and Alex reversed the routine. Alex offered him a snack of cheese and crackers, but Dante declined. At the door to his room, when Alex pulled him into his arms and kissed him, Dante relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy it, but when Alex’s hands began to stroke his arms and closed on his butt so their dicks met, he feigned fatigue.

  Alex released him. As he brushed Dante’s bangs out of his eyes, he simply said, “Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  Dante paused, his hand on his doorknob. “Who is this count I must meet?”

  “The leader of the Louisiana vampires.”

  “I assume that’s the same position Massimo holds in southern Italy?”

  “Right.”

  “I guess I don’t understand why you need to introduce me. I’m not a vampire.”

  “It’s common courtesy to introduce you because you will be working with Malcolm and me. Particularly since you will be living with me under my protection.”

  Again, Dante skirted away from explaining he might not be moving here. He shrugged. “That protection thing works here, too?”

  “Oh, yes.” Alex slid his thumb over the sensitive place where Dante’s neck joined his shoulder. He pressed his cool mouth to it and licked. Then he sucked.

  Tiny, electric sparks struck Dante’s groin and he wanted to shuck his pants and give in to his urges. Instead, he fought for and retained his resolve not to be caught up in Alex and sex. Not until his head was on straighter.

  �
�I’m bushed,” he said, avoiding further closeness.

  There was a wicked gleam in Alex’s emerald green eyes and a lift to one corner of his mouth as if he repressed a grin. Mimicking Malcolm, he gave a slight bow…and clicked his heels before turning away.

  How does he do that mind reading thing? Then—I think I knew him better when we were in Italy.

  Once inside his room, Dante shut the door and leaned against it, his cock now heavy with need. That’s what being with Alex does to me. I know that. I also know I don’t have to give in.

  He decided to ignore the faint echo… Until I’m ready.

  Worn out by jet lag, emotion, and the newness of everything, he was too tired to do anything but strip and crawl into bed. He fell asleep the instant his head met the pillow.

  Something tickled his nose. Dante shook his head. It retreated and returned. He tried to brush it away, only to find his hands were tied in some way to the bed above his head. The tickling continued down his abdomen and then abruptly spread to the bottoms of his feet, where he was ticklish, before traveling at a snail’s pace up his legs. The hairs on his legs stood up. He tried to avoid the irritating tickle by moving. That was when he discovered his legs were anchored to the foot rail.

  Panic woke him on the instant. “Giacomo?”

  He lifted his head and struggled to free himself until, in the moonlight falling across the white sheets, he saw Alex, not the crazed Giacomo, standing beside the bed. With one hand, he reached up to release his braid and his long, blond hair fell about his face and shoulders. In the other hand, he held a feather wand.

  “Che l’inferno?” Dante was so rattled he forgot to speak English. You’d have thought Alex was about to drain him, he was so frightened.

  Alex chuckled, and there was that touch of lighthearted wickedness again. “Hell? I think instead it is heaven you will find, my lover. I hope you have noticed that fancy wrought iron bedsteads have their usefulness. But do not worry; the handcuffs and ankle shackles are lined with velvet to protect your tender skin. The skin I love to suck.”

  The feather completed its journey up Dante’s sensitive inner thighs, and a groan escaped him as his dick awakened under the sensual slide because it knew Alex was wielding the tender torment.

  The feather flicked across his limp sac, and against his will, he found himself spreading his legs as much as he could. He watched his unruly dick respond, fattening and lengthening until it was fully engorged with its veins standing out.

  Neck tired, he dropped his head back, but lifted it again when the feather disappeared. Alex shook a can of shaving cream and pressed until thick white foam covered the dark nest between his legs.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Hold very still while I remove some of this thick bush. It is covering too many vital parts. Parts I love to taste. And suck.” He set the can aside for a straight razor, which he sharpened by using a strop.

  “Ohmygod, what’s gotten into you? You weren’t like this in Naples. Don’t!”

  “And you, my love, were not like this in Italy either.” As Alex leaned down, his hair formed a curtain enclosing both of them intimately. His kiss was hard and demanding. “You must trust me, Dante Rocco. Love is all about trust. If you do not trust me and you jerk, it may result in damage to the thick cock we both admire and love, or to those precious nuts, which bring you to that shining moment when you come. Why are your eyes so wide and fearful? Have you not seen my skill with a knife?”

  Dante shut his eyes. He couldn’t look. “Please don’t. What if my cock goes limp and lands on the blade?”

  “Let us see if it does. Let go, my lover. Let yourself feel every stroke. First, let us begin with this.”

  Dante felt something at his asshole, something bullet-like and slippery. Without thinking, he bore down and Alex slid a butt plug in. The fullness aroused him even more, and to hold onto the feeling, he tightened his muscle to send it well inside.

  Alex’s lips kissed his belly and his tongue licked across it just above the shaving cream, and Dante felt his skin come alive with sensation. Alex’s left middle finger, lubricated by the shaving cream, slipped into his belly button just as the butt plug had slipped into his ass. The faint scent of the cream brought back pleasant memories of being a man and shaving for the day.

  He felt the first rise of anger. I’m a man, and someone who’s no longer human is fucking with me. Then Alex stretched the skin at the base of Dante’s cock, and the first smooth stroke of the razor began, with only the slightest of tugs on his skin.

  Dante forgot to breathe.

  He heard the swish of the blade rinsing in water, then the edge of it against his skin again and again. Over and over.

  “Breathe, Dante. Breathe.” Alex blew across his now-wet skin.

  Dante gasped at the cold trail left by Alex’s breath, then stiffened when the vampire’s hand lifted his sac and the skillfully wielded blade began its work on the scattering of strands there. When his buttocks were spread and the blade denuded the few fine hairs around his recently invaded muscle, pressure loomed painfully at the base of his spine, despite his fear the least movement might shear off his balls. Even with Alex he’d never experienced an arousal so mixed with worry about pain, enjoyment and the driving need to fuck.

  “I’m going to come,” he said on a strangled breath, feelings filling his throat, his mind and his body. “Do something, anything and let me come.”

  Instead, Alex’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock and tightened firmly. There was no way he could achieve release with that hold, but it forced him to new heights of pleasure. A warm, wet towel wiped away the cream and shorn, dark curls. Alex dried him with a light touch. The need to climax subsided only a little.

  Before he knew it, his cock was free, and Alex had covered him with his hard, cold body. His mouth on Dante’s was wild, and the taking fierce.

  Alex broke the kiss and whispered against his now-bruised lips, “You are mine, Dante Rocco. You may confuse yourself by hiding from your need for me and shutting me out as you have since you arrived, but I will win every time. You are a strong man, but I am stronger.” He began to slide his erection up Dante’s and then down. Up and down, over and over. “Do you love me?”

  “Free me so I can come or I’ll go crazy. Please, Alex.”

  “Answer me.”

  “I don’t want to love a vampire but, God help me, I do love you, Alexandros Nicolaides.”

  “Do you want me to bite you?”

  He was out of his mind with the need to be bitten, to reach the exquisite thrill of climaxing as Alex tasted his blood. “Yes! Now!”

  The cold weight that was Alex lifted and his mouth found a vein near Dante’s cock and sucked as his hand pumped Dante.

  Dante lifted his hips to be closer to the sharp teeth, the waiting mouth. He felt the vein fill and fatten. Alex’s fangs bit quick and deep. The pleasure was so great Dante groaned. Alex drank. The pressure in Dante’s back slammed into the base of his spine and his sac tightened. Dante cried out as it pulsed and shot his seed through his cock and into Alex’s hand.

  Alex gripped Dante’s hips and called Dante’s name as he rose on the crest of his own climax, up and over to his release.

  When the spasms from their orgasms had quieted, Alex once again covered Dante’s body, but this time without touching him. His presence was like a cool wash, and Dante knew there was no question that this was a message about his power. And how he felt about Dante. This time, Dante savored the depths to which his feelings still ran for Alex.

  Alex released the golden handcuffs and massaged each wrist. When he removed Dante’s shackles, he kissed his ankles and traced his thumb over the path where the restraints had been. “See? No damage to this glorious olive skin of yours. I will never do this to you again, my lover. Unless you want it, of course. Or,” —he grinned—“unless I must.”

  Dante laughed. “I think I’ve had enough of being tied down. For one horrendous moment, I thoug
ht you were Giacomo.”

  Alex sat back and ran his hands over his face. “Jesu, I’d forgotten I sent an inquiry to Naples about him. By this time, the answer should be in the machine waiting for me. Come.”

  Alex threaded his fingers through Dante’s, and Dante wondered why he’d doubted what he felt for this incredible being, vampire or not. They held hands as they descended the stairs to the office. The paper sitting in the fax inbox read—Never located. Whereabouts unknown. My apologies. It was signed, Agapeto, first lieutenant to His Highness Prince Massimo di Osci.

  “Oh, that’s great. Just great. We should post signs—Warning: Insane vampire at large.” Dante turned and paced the room.

  “Outside the bar and grill, I had the fleeting sense something was amiss, but after you slept, I went into the garden and it was gone. I have not had it again.”

  The hair on the back of Dante’s neck rose. “Giacomo?”

  “It could have been many things. Until Naples, Giacomo had ignored me for years. Now that he’s thrown his tantrums and failed, I expect he has forgotten us, but we will be watchful.”

  Wide-awake now, Dante stayed up with Alex and they talked until just before the sun rose. They both slept then, but not together. When Dante left his bed at noon, he discovered Alex’s bedroom door was ajar. The bed was made. Although the room’s shades and shutters had been pulled and no light spilled into the room, Dante sensed Alex was sleeping in some dark and secret place where nothing could find or hurt him. In the office, he found a note regarding a second house alarm Alex had set. Dante committed the code to memory and shredded the paper.

  He’s taking the possibility of Giacomo being a threat more seriously than he’s telling me. So I’ll take it more seriously, too.

  He ate at home in the breakfast nook and practiced his English by struggling through a copy of The Times-Picayune. He and Alex usually conversed in Italian, but he needed to change that to English. Although he was fluent in German, French and his native Italian, it made sense to expand on what English he was able to use. It didn’t matter he was still undecided about actually moving here.