Slave Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  “There are a few potential candidates here, stuff that can sicken and kill humans, certainly. Some of it is caustic to material, as well, such as cotton and wool.” He stopped in front of a plant with vividly red, spiky leaves. “I think this is the one, though. Don’t you, Harry?”

  The older man joined him. “Yes. It has the right chemical composition to create an explosive. Marius was definitely focusing on the potential for it to combust centuries ago.”

  Trey walked cautiously closer to get a better look. “You use that thing to blow shit up?”

  Emil chuckled mirthlessly. “Not exactly. It’s a spice, by your viewpoint, although a human esophagus and stomach couldn’t tolerate ingesting it. It would be like eating acid.”

  “But your kind can?”

  “Yes. It’s a wonderful flavor enhancer for blander foods like pasta.”

  Harry wrinkled his nose. “Too much for my tastes.”

  Emil plucked off a few leaves. “In any case, Marius was experimenting with it. And he is like a dog with a bone, as you humans would say. Once he sinks his teeth into something, he doesn’t like to give it up.” He frowned. “There’s no way he grew it somewhere and imported the leaves into Boston, though.”

  “Yeah, well, Customs would have caught it,” Trey observed.

  The aliens shared a look. “We have our own private planes and can find out-of-the way landing strips. Customs wouldn’t know he’d entered the country. No, the real issue is that it deteriorates quickly once plucked. He would have had to bring in a lot of whole plants, given the size of the explosions. Surely, he’s not finished, either. I don’t see his importing that many. A plane-load is possible, but then he’d have to transport it over land somewhere and contain it while processing it.”

  “So, what are you saying?” Trey felt stupid, until a thought occurred to him. “He brought in seeds.”

  Emil nodded. “Yes, seeds that he then grew in a hydroponic garden like this one. He must have established a grow room and a lab somewhere in the area.”

  “Okay, we need to find that.” Trey couldn’t think how, of course, not at the moment.

  “And in the meantime, we go to the lab and figure out a countering agent. It’s a gamble because we could be wrong. It’s all we have,” Emil added with a quirk of his brow.

  “Let’s get to it,” Trey said, already heading out of the room. His growing ease with his alien buddies and their environment surprised him less and less with each new crisis. It didn’t matter in any event. Stopping this Marius fucker did.

  * * * *

  Jase giggled as he tried to emulate the enviable way Mackie made his butt dance. “I can’t get it right.”

  “You’re overthinking it, sweetie. Twerking is a state of mind.”

  Quinn smiled and nodded. “He’s right. You have to let go and stop worrying about whether you look silly.”

  The three of them were standing on one stage in G-strings. Mackie had given a brand new one in silver to Jase. He liked the color because it was one that Master favored, given the décor of his bedroom. The familiar way that the fabric divided his ass and contained his dick and balls was almost comforting.

  The main room of the club was pretty quiet, but a couple of the other stages contained go-go boys. The few members in residence that night were clustered around them. Jase was glad he wasn’t attracting any attention, not that he wasn’t used to being half- or fully naked in front of strange men. His job at the moment wasn’t to entertain them, however. It was nice to let go and enjoy himself after the horror of the day.

  As he’d clung to the side of the building, the realization of what had happened dawning on him, he’d learned something unexpected. He wanted to live. As miserable as his life had been, he had hope for the first time in years that it was getting better. He was glad to have escaped the death that had claimed so many. His only fear during those long, horrible minutes had been for Master, not of him. The threat of punishment hadn’t made a dent in his worry, so great was his terror that Master would die and never come back to him.

  In the end, the man had been safe and not mad about Jase’s disobedience. He’d seemed happy, relieved even, and had carried him all the way back to the club. Jase had felt cherished. He would have learned to dance, only to make Master happy, but found he loved it for himself. There had been a time when he’d considered taking dance classes, except he’d never asked. Money had been scarce and something like that would have been an indulgence. These were free, though, and he intended to surprise Master later with what he’d learned.

  Grabbing the pole, he spread his legs wide and pumped his hips as fast as he could.

  Mackie clapped. “That’s it! You’ve got it.”

  Jase stopped on a gasp and pressed his cheek against the cool metal. “Really? Give me a second and I’ll try it again.”

  “Let’s put on a better song,” Quinn said. “I’ll go ask Kitty.”

  “Is that okay?” Jase didn’t want to upset the members.

  “Sure,” Mackie batted the question way. “The men don’t care what we dance to. They just like to watch us move.”

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath and waited for the change of music. “Oh, I love this song!”

  Thirty Seconds to Mars’ Walk on Water started to play. It wasn’t the heaviest beat to twerk to, but he didn’t care. After a few seconds of bouncing his butt, he released the pole and let the rhythm take him away. It didn’t matter who watched or how good he was. It was awesome simply to rock his hips and twist in time to the music. He closed his eyes for a few seconds to allow his mind to drift. When he opened them again, he found men were crowding around him with avid gazes.

  His steps faltered a moment before he remembered that these men couldn’t hurt him. They couldn’t even touch him. His master wouldn’t allow that. He knew how to keep Jase safe. Still, he hadn’t forgotten the act of flirting with men. He could tease, and it was easy this time because no one was making him do it for their own avarice. This was something he was enjoying. Smiling down at them, he emphasized the swing of his hips. Then he turned, spread his legs, put his hands on his knees and jiggled away.

  There were claps and whistles, and soon money was being stuffed inside his G-string. The attention once more flustered him until he remembered that it was all a game. He liked how the positions had been reversed for once, where men had to fight for his attention and were rewarding him, not someone else, for his efforts—with actual money, not something he needed like food and rest. They weren’t ones or fives, either, but twenties and, holy shit, a hundred-dollar bill was tucked in by a man who winked at him. Jase’s cheeks get hot. He wondered if Master would allow him to keep any of it.

  He grinned and batted his eyelashes at the guy before flitting his gaze to one side. That’s when his lungs froze and his heart started pounding with dawning horror. Master stood by the bar, his gaze homing in on Jase. Even at a distance, he could see the red. A gleam of white showed fangs descending past his lower lip. Then Master’s mouth opened. Whatever sound he made—and Jase knew it only too well—was drowned out by the music being suddenly cranked way up.

  The bouncer, Val, raced to Master’s side and grabbed him by one arm. The club owner, Alex, latched on to the other one. The doctor joined in and so did the cop. They tugged and pulled Master backward. It was a replay of what had happened with Washburn days ago in the playroom, only this time, Jase was to blame for causing it. The bartender, Kitty, swooped in to block the view of the struggle. And still, Master’s gaze never left Jase. He kept staring until he’d been dragged out of sight.

  Jase sobbed and, jumping off the stage, ran after them.

  He’d fucked up. Master had told him to learn how to dance, not flirt with other men or allow them to put their hands on what belonged only to Master. Terror rose in him as he chased the man. It wasn’t fear of punishment that drove him. It was worse than that. He’d disappointed the one person in years who had treated him like something more than a hole. B
eing beaten bloody was nothing compared to the pain he’d experience if Master cast him aside. Surely he would, too. No one wanted a slave who was stupid and arrogant enough to entice others right under his nose.

  Down the hall he raced. The farther he got from the main room, the softer the music was. He could hear it now, the roaring and bellowing of an enraged alien vampire. It would serve Jase right if the monster inside Master was released. He’d regained his desire to live that afternoon, but without this man in his life, he wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore.

  “Master!” he screamed out the moment he entered the room. It was still taking four men to keep Master pinned to the couch. Jase slid in between them, burning his knees on the rug, desperate to reach his goal. “Master, please!”

  He was crying now, as he wrapped his arms around Master’s leg and pressed his face against the rock-hard thigh. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. Please!”

  He wailed in great gulping spurts. Tears ran down his face. Some dam of emotion had let loose and he couldn’t hold it back. All the fear and pain and misery, the disbelief, the sense of betrayal—everything he’d been forced to bottle up and push down in order to survive escaped and spilled out of him.

  He babbled in between racking sobs that shook his body and made him feel as if he were breaking into a million pieces. He didn’t stop, either, when strong hands pried open his fingers, pulled him and held him close. His tears soaked the cloth he pressed his face into, something that smelled familiar. He took in gulping breaths of the scents, and they slowly eased his sorrow.

  Nonsense words flowed over him until they started to make some sense. “Hush. You’re safe. I’m not mad. Easy, baby. Don’t make yourself sick. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Eventually, the primitive part of Jase’s mind gave way to rational thought. The meaning of Master’s words filtered through. His tears dried, and his weeping slowed to an occasional hiccup. He forced air into his lungs with steady breaths. Master rubbed his back, easing him down from the crying jag.

  “There now, that’s better.” Master’s voice was low and steady. The monster was gone again, leaving the man who baked sweet bread and took care of everyone.

  Jase dared to press a kiss to the chest he laid against. “I’m sorry I made you mad, Master. I shouldn’t have let those men touch me.”

  “No, baby, you don’t owe me an apology—not for that, not for anything. You did nothing wrong out there. The blame is mine.” He took a deep breath. “My reaction was out of line. You have every right to dance for those men, if that’s what you wanted to do. It’s a good way for you to make a lot of money, actually—more than you would working in a kitchen. I should have thought of that before. And you’re not mine, so my jealousy is unfair.”

  Exhausted from the horrifying and emotional day, Jase sat up and did something that would have been unthinkable only a week ago. He contradicted his master. “I am yours.”

  Master’s head reared back, a look of astonishment on his face before he replied, “No, Jase, you’ve been trained to think that.”

  Okay, now he was plain mad. Folding his arms, he glared back, unconcerned over what trouble his behavior might cause him. “You think I’m so broken that I don’t know my own feelings?”

  Master’s face fell. “Oh, no, baby. You’re not broken.”

  “You act as if I am.”

  “I don’t want to cause you pain the way those others like Washburn did. That’s all.” He ran his fingers down Jase’s cheek before cupping his face. “You deserve to get your life back. I don’t have a right to tie you to me. I can’t claim you, Jase. You belong to you, no one else.”

  A sadness stole over him, and he slumped back down against Master’s chest. “I’m tired. And it hurts all the time here.” He rubbed the spot between his pecs. “An ache that started four years ago and doesn’t go away”—he lifted his gaze—“except when I’m with you. You ease it, Master, and I think you can banish it forever.”

  Master placed his large hand over Jase’s, dwarfing it completely. “I don’t think I’m the best person to touch this particular wound, but if you’ll let me, I’ll try.”

  “I want that, Master,” Jase said with a solemn nod.

  “Okay, then, I’m going to need the truth…all of it. It’s going to be painful for you, but without it, I don’t know what to do for you. Do you trust me with that?”

  “Yes.” As he said the words, he meant them. Already, though, he his stomach fluttered and his pulse quickened. He’d pushed the beginning of his nightmare as deep down as it could go. Bringing it back to the surface would be agony. “For you. For us,” he amended and was rewarded with a smile.

  “Let’s go to my room where we’ll have privacy.”

  It wasn’t until Master picked him up and carried him out of the office that Jase realized they’d never been left entirely alone. The others stood outside, hovering with concerned looks. Embarrassed, Jase closed his eyes and tucked his head against Master’s chest.

  “Be careful with him,” the cop said.

  “I’m around if you need me,” the doctor added.

  “Thank you all for your help and concern, but Jase and I have it from here.” Master’s steady reassurance helped allay Jase’s worry.

  His reference to the two of them acting in concert and conquering trouble made hope rise in his heart. He knew at that moment he’d fallen in love.

  Chapter Ten

  Emil held Jase while they lay propped in bed. He’d only bothered to kick off his shoes, but he’d dressed Jase in one of his T-shirts. It was like a nightgown, it hung so low on the boy’s small frame. The G-string was tossed on the floor, and the tips he’d earned were piled neatly on the nightstand, although Emil would have gladly ripped them to shreds, given how they reminded him of that awful moment when he’d seen those sweaty pervs leering over the boy and pawing him with their money. He had pulled himself together and was determined not to lose his shit again.

  Holy fuck, it had hit him like the proverbial freight train—the fury, the bloodlust. He was embarrassed that he’d risked everyone’s lives by his lack of control. Worse, he’d frightened Jase and made the boy cry so hard that Emil had worried for his health. Never again. He wouldn’t harm this sweet human like that ever. He’d cut his own throat first.

  They’d been lying like this for a few minutes while Jase marshaled his thoughts. “Take your time,” Emil said for the second or third time. The wait was killing him. He knew he was going to hate Jase’s story. It made him sick already, imagining what it was.

  Jase moved restlessly before starting. “My dad died when I was four. I don’t remember him much. I guess he was a good guy, and I think my mom loved him. She had trouble coping once he was gone. I know that. Money was tight and she had to leave me by myself often because she had to work and couldn’t always afford a babysitter.

  “When she met Jack, things got better. She smiled more and he took us both out to eat and movies. He played catch with me, which made my mom really happy. There was always something about him, though, that kind of creeped me out. I was too little, at first, to understand. Later, I avoided him as much as I could. I figured it didn’t matter. I was heading into high school and would be gone in a few years. So long as he treated Mom well, that was all that mattered.”

  He stopped, and Emil schooled himself in patience. He rubbed Jase’s back in the way he knew the boy loved, slow circles up and down.

  “The summer before I was supposed to start high school, my mom got distracted with her phone and stepped in front of a bus. She died a few hours later without regaining consciousness. Jack tried to comfort me at the hospital, but I didn’t like the way he held me and I pushed him away. He was mad. I could tell. I didn’t care because Mom was dead. I hurt too much to worry about him.

  “That was a mistake. I let down my guard. The night after we buried her, he came into my room. And—”

  Jase stuttered to a halt. He curled against
Emil’s side. “It was agony. I’d been pretty sure I was gay for a few years before that. I’d even started sneaking looks at porn on my phone. What I saw men doing to each other looked fun until Jack did it to me. I couldn’t believe anyone wanted something that hurt so much. I cried and struggled, but he was too strong. I couldn’t make him stop. When he was done, he pulled my head by my hair and told me that lube was for good boys. If I wanted some next time, I’d start being nice to him.”

  Emil hugged him close and peppered his head with a few kisses. “Oh, baby, you’d been watching sex. What your asshole stepfather did was rape.”

  Jase nodded. “I know that now. At the time, I was confused and scared. He threatened to kill me if I told anyone and I believed him. That summer, he kept me away from all my friends and neighbors. I never had any family other than my parents, so there was no one to check on me. He told people I was grieving and wanted privacy.”

  Emil nodded. “He isolated you. Abusers do that.”

  “Every day, he gave me what he called ‘lessons’. I learned to give him blow jobs and not fight him when he fucked me. He was right about the lube. It was much easier with it. I didn’t dare gainsay him. I kept telling myself that once I started school, I would get some break from him. I never did.”

  Sitting up, Jase pulled away, only to sit cross-legged beside Emil’s hip. “Jack gambled…a lot. I hadn’t known anything about it. He was in debt big time. One night, a couple of goons came to the house and started beating him for the money he owed their boss. When he couldn’t pay, they decided to take me. They said I’d be a fair trade.”

  He picked at the bedspread as he spoke. “I fought them, not that it did any good. I pleaded with Jack to save me because being with him was better than these strangers. I didn’t understand what was happening until I found myself imprisoned in a brothel outside of New Orleans. Lots of men had me then.”

  Jase bowed his head and a tear slid down his cheek. Emil couldn’t stand it. He picked the boy up and settled him on his lap. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He wiped the tears with his thumb and replaced them with soft kisses. “You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to.”