Slave Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  “I thought that was gunpowder.”

  “No, sorry if we gave that impression. His foray into that only cost humans their lives. Marius has been careful with his own, despite his, um…hobby costing him bits and pieces.”

  “I suppose I have to be grateful he didn’t figure out how to split an atom,” the cop muttered. Emil couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. The others did, as well, even Harry. “What’s so funny?”

  “Sorry. He does know how to. That’s something our world did eons ago. We gave it up quickly as too unstable.” He shook his head. “No, Marius is crazy, not suicidal.”

  “And Dracul wants to rule a livable world, not a dead one,” Alex added.

  “Okay, good to know.” Duncan blew out a breath. “So now what? Can you guys counteract this stuff, whatever it is?”

  “Possibly.” Emil grimaced. “I’m a botanist by training and Harry is a whiz in the lab. We can maybe concoct something useful. We’re going to need a sample, though. At least it would be helpful to have one.”

  Duncan threw his head back. “Fuck, I knew you were going to say that.” He righted his head. “I’ll see what I can do, but don’t hold your breath. This isn’t like conning the coroner or outmaneuvering hospital staff. The feds don’t fuck around. Security on the evidence is tight as a tick.”

  “Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Harry and I can make do with the information we have.”

  Alex slapped his palm on his desk. “Well, have we spent sufficient time here to convince the stalwart Detective Anderson that we’ve been properly questioned?”

  “Yeah, probably.” Duncan labored to his feet, tiredness and worry evident in the way he carried himself. “I have to question the kitchen staff to make it look good, and I’d like to talk to the kid…Jase.” He shot a meaningful glance in Emil’s direction.

  His first reaction was to roar out his disapproval. He dialed it back in a millisecond, although his thoughts must have shown through his eyes because the cop jerked back. “Sorry, and yes, that’s fine. I have him working in the kitchen.”

  “Yeah? That’s convenient. By the way,” Duncan said to the room at large, “be extra discreet in your hunt for this Marius asshole. I’m betting Franklin is going to have this place, and maybe each of you, watched. He’s suspicious as hell.”

  “Won’t you be able to warn us if that’s the case?” Emil felt compelled to ask.

  “Maybe. I get the feeling he thinks I’m compromised. It’s the company I keep,” he added with a grin.

  Emil could tell it bothered him. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. We don’t mean to cause you trouble.”

  Duncan shook off the apology. “It’s fine. It is what it is, and nothing matters except stopping this nightmare once and for all.”

  “Come on. I’ll take you to the kitchen. Damien is the only staff member working tonight. Logan might be around, too, if that helps.”

  “I don’t want to drag her into this mess unless I have to. She has no official position here, and only Karl would know she’s involved at all with the club. I don’t think he’s inclined to say anything at this point.”

  “Loyalty is a rare virtue.”

  The cop didn’t say anything in response. Emil got the impression he felt conflicted on how he was compromising his partner with the secrets and lies that came with being involved in the war. The kitchen was pretty quiet, Emil having gone for simple and hearty beef stew for those members interested in eating. It was a cold day and would be a colder night. One-pot cooking was both easy and comforting.

  His gaze homed in on Jase without his thinking about it. The boy was right where Emil had left him, sitting at the table, poking at a bowl of stew. Jase looked up instantly, aware the moment that Emil had stepped foot inside the room that he’d done so. The response saddened Emil and angered him. This poor, abused kid had learned to always know where potential danger was. He shouldn’t have to be on alert like that. When Jase’s eyes went wide at the sight of Duncan, Emil hurried to reassure him.

  “Hey, it’s fine. Sergeant Duncan only wants to ask you a few questions.” Rushing to the boy’s side, Emil put a smile on his face. “I promise everything’s fine.”

  Jase lowered his gaze. “Yes, Chef.”

  Christ. Chef sounded like ‘master’ to Emil’s ears because that’s what Jase meant. He was trying to give Emil what he wanted. Of course he was. He knew no other way. The really scary bit was that some part of Emil liked it. Hearing it made him puff up inside with pleasure and that wasn’t right. Unlike Val, he’d never chosen to explore this Dom lifestyle where he controlled a boy with loving mastery. If he’d thought of it at all, he’d have pictured something more like what Harry had with his precious Lucien and Alex had with the adorable Quinn—someone to coddle and spoil and protect.

  Not that Jase was his to keep in any form. He was like Logan, someone to help out, patch up and get back on his feet. Emil was a way station in the boy’s life until he could strike out on his own and take care of himself. Emil was all wrong for him anyway. The age difference alone, even if Emil were human, made them an unsuitable couple. His chastisement of Alex and Val taking on such young lovers was real, not simply ribbing. He’d felt the same way about Harry and Lucien, although he had to admit that in all three cases, there was true love between the men and their boys. Still, it bothered him, and besides…Jase was different. He’d been abused and deserved careful treatment. He didn’t need Emil salivating over him.

  Like he had earlier with the sliced finger. If he closed his eyes, he could still smell the sweet scent of Jase’s blood welling up and beckoning him. The willpower it had taken to resist sucking that digit into his mouth and savoring the salty treat had nearly killed him. And it hadn’t been simply blood that he’d wanted. It had been Jase’s in particular. Only the knowledge that he would have frightened the boy half to death and disgusted him to boot had given him the courage to resist the temptation.

  Duncan’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Hi. Jason, isn’t it? Do you remember me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” Duncan sat down on Jase’s opposite side. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, sir. Thank you for asking.”

  “Okay.” Duncan sighed. “Could you please do me a favor and look at me and tell me that again.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, the boy did as asked but not before a quick glance at Emil first. Emil smiled and nodded in encouragement. “I’m truly all right, sir.”

  Duncan studied Jase’s face for a few seconds before his gaze pierced Emil’s over the boy’s head. “How about you give us a little privacy, Emil?”

  “Sure.” Even as Emil spoke the word, a small whimper came from Jase. He looked at Emil with pleading eyes. “And that would be a no,” he amended before sitting down at Jase’s side.

  Duncan sighed again. “Fine. So, Jase, is there a family member that you’d like to get in contact with?”

  Jase shook his head slowly. “No, sir. There’s no one.”

  “Really? No parents, siblings, maybe a grandparent.” When Jase merely shook his head again, Duncan got down to the harder stuff. “How long were you with Washburn? I know what you said last night. I want to hear it again, now that you’re in a safe, quiet place.”

  Jase fiddled with his half-empty glass of milk for a few seconds before abruptly stopping. He put his hands in his lap. He seemed so lost and afraid.

  “It’s okay, baby. You should tell Sergeant Duncan the truth.” Fuck, again with the ‘baby’. What is my problem?

  Jase took a deep, stuttering breath. “Three years.”

  “To be clear, Washburn took you in when you were fifteen?”

  Jase nodded, his face steeped in misery.

  “Were you a runaway that he found somewhere?”

  Jase shook his head and his pale cheeks pinked.

  “How did you end up with him, then?”

  Jase opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He
swallowed hard enough for Emil to notice. He could hear the quickening of the boy’s heartbeat. A glance at the base of his throat showed a rapid thrumming of his pulse. There was no temptation to sink his fangs into the vein, however. Emil knew only pity and empathy. And mounting fury, although he tamped that down. Obviously, the answer Jase was working up his courage to give was going to be bad.

  “It’s okay. I’m here. Take your time.” He dared to put his arm around the boy’s shoulders and was rewarded when Jase didn’t flinch. If anything, he leaned into the touch.

  “He, um…won me, sir,” Jase finally managed to say.

  Duncan’s mouth formed a thin line before he asked, “You mean, like, in a poker game or something?”

  “No, sir. It was an auction.”

  “Auction! Who was selling you?” The cop was crap, apparently, at holding back his emotions. He’d said the very thing that Emil thought and in an aggrieved tone that mirrored Emil’s feelings, although Emil would have added “And where can I find the fucker so that I can kill him.”

  Tears formed at the corners of Jase’s eyes. His lips trembled as he tried to speak. Then he launched himself into Emil’s chest and held on to him with clenched fists.

  “Please, Master, please don’t make me do this.”

  Emil didn’t hesitate. He picked the boy up and pulled him onto his lap. He tucked Jase’s head against his shoulder and hugged him tightly. “Okay, Duncan, that’s enough.”

  Duncan frowned. “I’m trying to help him, Emil.”

  “I understand your motive, but he’s too fragile right now. Back. Off.” Opening his mouth, he let his fangs show and hissed softly at the man.

  Duncan held up his hands and stood. “Okay, okay, don’t have a cow. But I got to ask, Jase. Do you want me to take you to a shelter? There’s one I know for gay teens that is safe and has counselors.”

  The cop hadn’t finished his spiel before Jase whimpered again, louder this time, and practically plastered himself against Emil.

  Emil gave Duncan a pointed look. “That would be a hard pass.”

  “Right. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “So do I,” Emil admitted. He jutted his chin in Damien’s direction. The sous chef had been doing his best to pretend he wasn’t following the goings-on across the room. “That’s Damien if you want to interview him about you know.”

  Duncan nodded. Before he left, he placed one of his business cards on the table. “Jase, I’m leaving my contact info. Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.”

  As there was no chance of Jase taking it, Emil tucked it into his pocket after standing. Jase clung to him like a limpet, so he hoisted the boy more fully in his arms. It felt right, natural, and that disturbed him. It shouldn’t. Jase was a chore, he reminded himself. A duty, not a pleasure.

  “It’s been a long day already. Let’s get you to bed, for a nap at least.”

  He realized the import of his words the moment they’d left his mouth. His cock loved the implication, jumping up—or at least trying to. It was tightly trapped in Emil’s jeans. It begged to be let out. He told it to shut the fuck up.

  Chapter Eight

  All the way to the bedroom, Jase kept telling himself to stop being such a baby. Master had been patient so far with him, but that wouldn’t last forever. He’d kindly stayed with him when the police officer had asked him hard, painful questions—questions that the man seemed genuinely interested in getting answers to. It hadn’t felt like a trap, something designed to get Jase to say the wrong thing and for which punishment would be administered. The man hadn’t touched Jase once, hadn’t shoved his cock down Jase’s throat or bent Jase over the table for a fucking. What was more, Jase believed that if the man had tried, Master would have stopped him. It was ridiculous to have such faith in anyone, let alone a monster. And still, against all reason, he did.

  “Here we are.” Master’s voice sounded so cheery as he carried Jase into the bedroom.

  A quick peek confirmed it was the same one he’d slept in the night before. Master’s, not some new place where he might be alone. Again, that shouldn’t be comforting because it meant sex. That was never an experience to welcome. It was debasing at best and excruciating at worst. While he had a feeling Master would be kind to him, there would be nothing to do about his size and how ill-equipped Jase’s body would be to accommodate it. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine what kind of huge dick Master had. Everything about him was ginormous. That part had to be as well. And Jase had spent the day without a plug in his ass to keep him stretched out. This night might be as painful for him as the very first time.

  So, yeah, he should be scared and desperate to maybe run downstairs to see if the cop was still there and his offer for sanctuary was real. He wasn’t, and he had no interest in fleeing, either. Part of that was years of hard-learned lessons that escape was impossible. A bigger part, though, was this perverse sense that there was no better or safer place than Master’s arms.

  Master didn’t toss Jase on the bed as he expected. Instead, he gently set him on his feet and released his hold before stepping back. “How’s that? Feeling all right?”

  Jase nodded. “Yes, Master. I’m sorry I got so upset. And I’m sorry I forgot not to call you Master in the kitchen.”

  “That’s okay. I understand. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Thank you, Master.” Shit. “Thank you, Master Emil,” he corrected himself.

  Because he had his gaze downward like a good slave, he couldn’t see Master’s expression. He thought he heard a frustrated sigh but couldn’t be sure. It was faint and Master was already moving away.

  He didn’t leave, though. He went to sit in a chair in the far corner. The piece of furniture was oversized, like everything else in the room. It accommodated the large man with ease, giving him a comfortable amount of space to sprawl. There was even a spot left where a small human could curl beside him, if permitted. That stray thought surprised him, as so much had in the last twenty-four hours. Jase had spent the last few years trying to keep away from men, not get closer. So much had changed in his life in a dizzying amount of time. Standing in the dark room populated with big things, Jase felt like Alice in Wonderland—and, like that fictitious girl, he wondered who in the world he was.

  “Why don’t you go and take a shower? Get ready for bed. I know it’s kind of early…”

  Jase knew an order when he heard one, regardless of how it was phrased. With a nod, he did as told. He kept the bathroom door open in case Master wanted to watch him. Some men did. Maybe vampires didn’t. He wasn’t going to take any chances, and in the larger scheme of things, a lack of privacy didn’t rate very highly in things that worried him.

  He stripped down and was careful to neatly fold his borrowed clothes and put them on top of the hamper before getting under the spray. After a day of standing around peeling potatoes and prepping other foods, the hot water felt good on his body. The ache, though, was a welcome one. It hadn’t been obtained from punishment—merely good, hard work. It gave him a sense of pride to know that he’d served a purpose during the day. Master seemed to truly value his efforts, and other people appreciated them, without his being demeaned in the process.

  He was careful to clean himself thoroughly, though, because surely the next job of the day was to bring his Master pleasure. There was no enema nozzle for him to use, so he worked his hole with a soapy finger. He winced at how tight he’d become already. That was the problem with this passage into one’s body. It wasn’t designed to stay open and loose. Even though wearing a plug had been for the benefit of his old master’s dick, it had still helped him, too. He’d hated every second of wearing the thing, but he was sure missing it now.

  When bathing wasn’t part of a show, time was of the essence. As much as he would have liked standing under the spray for a few more minutes, he didn’t linger. The big, fluffy towels wicked the water from his skin quickly and did a decent job of drying his mop of hair. There was no hai
r dryer, so there was no way to remove the dampness. He hoped Master wouldn’t mind his sheets getting wet. The last thing he did was brush his teeth and put on some deodorant. Masters could be stinky, not so slaves. Not that his current master smelled like anything other than the things he used to cook with.

  As he stood staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for a moment, he tried to see what Master saw and assess whether that was a good thing. He knew he was pretty, because he’d been told that his entire life, and he looked young. Men had slavered over him for that very reason. Was that appealing to this master? Would a creature so large and strong and darkly exotic find small paleness desirable? Perhaps his very opposite nature was exactly what the vampire wanted. Of course, if it was blood he was looking for, Jase didn’t have much.

  The idea that he was about to be bitten and drained brought him crashing down to reality. He started to break out in a panicky sweat. Good thing he’d gone for the deodorant. If he thought he could get away with it, he would have stalled some more. That never worked. Best to get things over with. He could do this. Over the years, he’d learned he was stronger than he’d believed as a child.

  Master was still sitting in the corner chair, although he’d stripped down to a T-shirt and jeans. The way the fabric stretched across his broad, muscular chest was impressive. It caught Jase’s attention, despite his growing fear. He tried to focus on that and not the equally eye-catching bulge straining the denim over the man’s crotch. Don’t get ahead of yourself. One step at a time. It was the only way to stay sane.

  He went on autopilot mode, letting his training take over and pushing active thoughts aside. Master’s thick legs were spread wide, giving Jase the perfect spot to kneel between them. With head bowed and hands clasped behind his back, he waited to be used. A hand landed on top of his head. He stiffened for a split-second in anticipation of having his hair grasped with a painful grip, of being pulled forward, of being forced to choke down a cock. As much as his gag reflex had been trained out of him, he might not be able to swallow the dick he knew lurked just out of sight.