Slave Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  Emil smiled sheepishly. “I know. I think Jase and I were thinking it would be like in the movies. All we had to do was pull the green wire or something and stop the bomb, except that’s not where the bomb was.”

  “No, that was a few yards away, in a smaller bag, for some reason. Then there is the mystery of what all of those mason jars filled with baking soda had to do with anything.”

  “I was going to do a science experiment as a form of street performance, remember?” Emil asked.

  “How could I forget,” Franklin ground out.

  “I dumped it in the bag, thinking it might help in some way—again not knowing the bomb was elsewhere.”

  Jase put his hand in Emil’s and leaned against him. “You saved my life.” He didn’t say ‘Master’, yet Emil heard it anyway.

  “I’d say that’s true,” Franklin agreed. “I’m sure you’ll show him your appreciation soon.”

  Emil growled at him, the sound close to human, yet something that made the federal agent blink.

  “My apologies. That was rude and unprofessional of me.” He flipped his notebook shut and stuck it in his pocket. “Okay, here’s the thing—my real thoughts that are not going into the report…yet. I have no idea what happened, but I don’t buy what I’m forced to sell to my superiors. At least part of it is bullshit. You all were up to your eyeballs in something. What? I don’t know.”

  He focused on the cops. “Duncan, I’m asking you one more time to give it to me straight.”

  The cop stood and hitched his pants. He looked dead on his feet. “Sir, I’ve told you the truth, and part of it is that thanks to some of the people in this room, Karl and I were able to get dozens of people, mostly kids impaired by having skates on their feet, away from the blast zone.” He pointed to Alex, Val and the boys. “They literally saved lives, at great risk to their own. Honestly, sir, that’s all that needs to go in your report. The rest is simply noise.”

  He stared at the man with his mouth shut tight after that. A few seconds later, Anderson stood beside him. “What he said, sir.”

  “Fine,” Franklin fumed. “You all may not be murderers or terrorists, but you’re something. Know this. I’ve got my eye on you.”

  With that parting shot, he stormed out.

  The room was quiet for a few minutes. Val followed Franklin to lock the door, probably, something that hadn’t been done much since opening. The fire was going to put the place out of commission for a few weeks.

  Val returned. “He’s gone.”

  “Well,” Kitty huffed, “this has been fun. I need a drink. Want one?” she asked Logan.

  “Sure. This is not a day for sobriety.”

  “No more than two,” Emil called out.

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Time for bed, Demi.” Lucien stood and gave Harry a quick kiss.

  “It’s early yet,” the boy whined.

  “Not after a day like this. And it’s not up for debate.”

  “I was old enough to help save those kids.”

  “I know, and I couldn’t be more proud—or angry. Now, come before I take away your screen privileges.” Lucien sailed off for the elevator with his usual grace, a belligerent Demi stomping after him.

  Emil looked from Harry to Val to Alex. “Now what?”

  “I’m tired of playing defense,” Val said, tugging an unusually quiet Mackie into his arms and sitting down.

  “As am I,” Alex agreed. He stroked Quinn’s hair and gave him an encouraging smile before saying, “I’m going to call Malcolm. It’s time to take this fight to Dracul for a change.”

  “Who is he?” Quinn asked.

  “He’s a navigator,” Emil replied, “who loves the stars.”

  “More to the point, he’s a highlander now,” Alex countered. “And he’s the kind of dog we need in this fight.”

  “He doesn’t like it,” Emil reminded his captain. “He only wants to make his Scotch and raise his salmon.”

  Alex grinned. “Which is why Dracul will never see him coming.”

  * * * *

  “Fucking hell!” Dracul screamed out his fury before delivering another blow to Brenin’s already-battered face.

  It sent the boy sailing across the room. He hit the wall with a sickening thud. He’d been taking the brunt of Dracul’s rage for the last few minutes. Someone had to. That was how the monster worked.

  Dracul turned his twisted face toward Petru. “It can’t be true. Marius has to be alive. No mere human could have killed him and he would never blow himself up.”

  “With regrets, sir, it is true. I’ve studied all the reports and viewed the video put on the Internet by witnesses. There’s one that shows Marius being felled by bullets, then disintegrating, proving that he did indeed die, not that anyone believes the footage isn’t doctored. I think the victim of the bomb was some stupid human. In any event, this volley is over. Marius never shared his formula for the explosive with anyone, and the only other botanist among us is Emil. His loyalty to the captain is steadfast.”

  “Don’t tell me shit I already know!” He whirled around and advanced on Brenin. The poor boy was barely conscious and cringed in the approach of more violence.

  Dafydd couldn’t stand it anymore. With a speed he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of, he stumbled off the bed and threw himself in Dracul’s path. “No.” He put one hand on his belly and one palm up as if that could actually stop the monster. “Leave him alone. This isn’t his fault.”

  Dracul roared in rage and bared his fangs. With his heart lodged in his throat, Dafydd stood his ground and shook his head. Dracul advanced with his fist raised. It took everything Dafydd had not to flinch.

  “Go ahead and beat me instead. Kill me and your son. I don’t care. But I won’t stand by while you vent your spleen on this innocent boy.” His heart pounded and his stomach turned as he saw his own death in Dracul’s eyes. He wanted to care, to cling to his hope of getting free. But he was so damn tired, and if protecting Brenin for a few precious minutes was all he accomplished by this, it would have to be enough.

  Then the threat of death was gone. Dracul lowered his arm and retracted his fangs. He actually smiled, although Dafydd knew from long experience that it meant worse was coming. “How bold you’ve become, my dear. You’re right, of course. Beating that little slut won’t bring back Marius or advance my plans. It would bring me pleasure, however. I suppose I can think of another way.”

  That was all the warning Dafydd got before Dracul grabbed him by the arm and shoved him against the bedpost. Dafydd knew to take hold and brace himself with his arms. The first thrust was a brutal reminder of what he’d escaped during the long months since Brenin had been imprisoned. He clamped his lips shut to keep from crying out.

  “Oh, I have missed this hole of yours, my dear. Maybe fucking you will speed up your delivery.” He shoved his way into Dafydd’s resistant body and ground his hips against his ass. “Once my son is free of you, I will show you how truly angry I am.”

  Dafydd shuddered at the warning. He closed his eyes and suffered the assault because there was nothing else to do…yet. Not if I get free of you first.

  * * * *

  “He turned to dust right in front of my eyes.”

  Karl kept going over the events at the Frog Pond rink over and over like a broken record—or a man who was in shock. How he’d kept it together during Franklin’s interviews, Trey would never know. He appreciated it, though. When it had counted most, his partner had come through for him.

  “It was like Christopher fucking Lee burning up in the sun, except that wasn’t it at all. It was only after we shot him that he disintegrated.”

  “Yeah, it happens when they die—that’s all—no matter how that occurs. They can go out in daylight, but they prefer the dark. Our sun’s too close to the planet or something.” He’d told him this already. He’d told him everything he knew. Exhausted as they both were, they sat in Trey’s living room, swilling beers. Eventually they were both
going to pass out. For now, he needed to let Karl work through the unbelievable in his mind.

  “They don’t look a thousand years old.”

  Trey took another hit of his beer. “No, they age differently.”

  That reminder had him thinking of Demi—the mixed-breed boy who was both older and younger than he appeared. At the height of the crisis, Trey had still had time to notice that the brat had somehow ended up in the middle of the war zone. And he’d acquitted himself with admirable bravery. When others were sensibly fleeing danger, Demi had run straight toward it. He’d carried at least four young children to safety without flinching.

  Knowing that Demi was at ground zero for an imminent explosion had sent Trey’s stress level into brain-exploding territory. He knew that once the beer did its job, his nightmares were already cued up to feature the boy as a central character. Worse, it was getting harder to see him as too young and untouchable. Right before Trey’s eyes, Demi was becoming another warrior in Alex’s army. That fact made it all the more imperative for Dracul to be stopped.

  “But Kitty’s not one of them,” Karl continued making his endless loop.

  “Nope, she’s human.”

  “That’s good. I like her, but I’m not sure I’m progressive enough to get involved with another species, assuming I have a shot there.” He eyed Trey over the rim of his bottle. “Do you think I do?”

  That was probably the fifth time he’d asked that question. “I don’t know, Karl. Maybe. I could ask Alex what he thinks.” He’d made this offer, as well, an equal number of times.

  “Nah, that’s too middle schoolish.”

  “I agree. She’s in a tough spot. Like me, she’s trying to help without giving the game away to the rest of the world. Becoming involved with someone in the know is definitely in the plus column where you’re concerned.” He hated manipulating his partner and friend this way, but after the day’s events, he’d become more committed to helping Alex defeat Dracul. The stakes were high and his people weren’t equipped to deal with the danger.

  “People aren’t ready for this,” Karl observed…again. “An alien war being waged for centuries on our planet would freak even Stephen Hawking out—you know, if he weren’t already dead.”

  “That’s right.” He could sense Karl was winding down. His speech was slurring and he swayed where he sat. Or maybe it was Trey’s vision that was moving. “I know it’s hard, Karl, but I believe it’s in our planet’s best interest to keep this secret.”

  Karl drained his bottle and put it on the end table. Or, he tried to. The thing fell off the edge and bounced on the carpet before rolling away. He turned bleary eyes on Trey. “I manipulated a crime scene. I used the chaos to move evidence to frame some poor bastard who was too stoned to realize he was picking up a bomb. I lied to Home-fucking-land Security. That’s a federal crime that could send me to jail for the rest of my natural life, which I feel the need to point out is a whole lot shorter than your alien vampire friends’. If you’re worried I’m going to change my mind and spill the beans, don’t. I’m up to my chin in this shit and all I can do is try to tread so I don’t drown.”

  He slumped over to rest his head against a throw pillow. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to pass the fuck out.”

  Trey smiled, a gesture lost on his friend, whose eyes were already closed. “Thanks, Karl. Sweet dreams.”

  The man barked out a laugh. “Like I’m ever going to sleep well after this.”

  Yeah, don’t I know it.

  * * * *

  “Right this way.”

  “Thank you, Master, but you didn’t have to escort me down.”

  “Of course, I did. This is a date, and a gentleman always picks up his date.”

  The idea of having a date night with Master flustered him. He didn’t know what to do with himself or how to dress for such a thing. He’d never had the chance to do it before, which was the point, he supposed. Master wanted to give him something special. And it already was to Jase. Quinn and Mackie had dressed him head to toe in Dolce & Gabbana, with a fitted light-gold patterned cotton shirt and tight black pants. He’d never worn anything half so fine. They’d tamed his hair, as well, slicking it back with some gel. He felt a little like Cinderella.

  Master looked equally fine, if simple, in his charcoal-gray slacks and off-white button-down shirt. His hair was its usual spikey self, so he looked sufficiently like Master that Jase wasn’t overly nervous about the evening. It was not too different than the times they’d spent eating in the kitchen. He felt a prick of sadness over how that space had to be redone because of the fire. It would never be quite the same in his mind.

  “Close your eyes for a moment, please.”

  Jase did as requested and almost giggled at the courtly way Master ushered him into the bedroom with a slight pressure at the small of his back. He suppressed it, though, knowing how much trouble the man had gone to set up this evening.

  “Okay, you can open them now.”

  He gasped instead at his first sight of what awaited him. “Oh, it’s lovely.”

  Although the big bed was still there, most of the other furniture had been removed. In its place was a dining room setting, complete with a sideboard loaded with domed dishes, a small square table covered in a snowy white cloth and set with china and crystal and shiny cutlery. Flowers and squat, lit candles festooned every hard surface. A sweet smell of lavender permeated the room, as well. It was a fairy-tale setting, and Jase couldn’t take a deep breath from the beauty of it all.

  “You like it?” Master seemed nervous.

  Jase beamed at him so that there would be no doubt. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing more than what you deserve.”

  Master escorted him to the table and helped him with his chair. Then he shook out a napkin and placed it over Jase’s lap. “I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with my being both server and date this evening. I’m selfish enough not to want to share you with anyone.”

  Jase didn’t know what to say, so he smiled and nodded and tried not to be too nervous. Luckily Washburn had taught him table manners, along with his harsher lessons. Jase felt comfortable with how to comport himself, not that he believed Master would judge him regardless. He felt safe with this man, this monster, who was nothing of the sort, as it turned out.

  Master went to the sideboard. “I know the Commonwealth of Massachusetts would object, but would you like some wine?”

  Jase wrinkled his nose. “No, thank you, Master. I don’t like alcohol.” It had been poured down his throat a time or two, but those awful memories had no place here.

  “How about a Coke?”

  “Yes, please, if that’s not going to clash with the meal.”

  “You should always drink what pleases you, no matter what you’re eating.”

  Master brought an iced and frosty tall glass of Coke over and poured himself some wine. He held up his glass. “To your first date.” Jase shyly completed the toast with a soft clink before taking a sip of his drink.

  Master drank some of his wine before putting the glass by his setting. “First course is lobster bisque.” Master carried over two bowls, placing one in front of Jase and the other at his own place. “Please be honest about what you think of everything. I want to always serve you what you like.”

  Jase had no doubt he would love it all. Master’s food was delicious, and Jase wanted to try new things. The moment the first taste of creamy soup hit his tongue, he moaned. “It’s fabulous.”

  Master grinned. “I’m glad you like it. I had to use Alex’s tiny kitchen to prepare our dinner, and that space is wholly inadequate.”

  “I would never have known.”

  They ate in companionable silence for a while before Master said, “I have to confess this dating thing is new to me. It’s a pretty new concept on this world and doesn’t exist at all on mine. I think, based on what I’ve seen in movies and the like, we are supposed to get to know each other.”
>
  Jase stared at his soup. “Oh, well, I think we know pretty much everything by now.”

  “No, we don’t. We know a lot of the bad stuff, the scary parts. I’m sorry, by the way, for not telling you about Dracul and the others. You should have been forewarned.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t know that I could have handled the truth until it had reached a crisis point for me. I’m not afraid. I have faith in you and the others to keep my world safe.”

  Master seemed pleased with that statement. “Okay, so I want to know nice things about you. For example, what did you want to be when you grew up? I know you were forced out of school early, but before that.” Master tried to keep his tone even, yet Jase heard the sadness underneath it.

  Not wanting the evening to be marred by the past, Jase racked his brain for an answer. “Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t think about it much. I liked video games, so maybe I thought I could become a software engineer.”

  Master nodded and picked up a covered basket sitting between them. “I almost forgot… Roll?” he asked, unfolding the napkin on top.

  Peering inside, Jase sniffed and smiled. Then he took a warm, soft white one. He pulled off a piece and dipped it into what remained of his soup before popping it into his mouth. “Oh,” he moaned. “Awesome.”

  Master nodded again and smiled some more before tossing an entire roll into his mouth. “So, maybe you want to go back to school. There are online courses you could take if you don’t want to sit in a classroom with younger kids.”

  “I thought, maybe, I was going to be a chef, like you.” Was this date a break-up one? A spike of panic shot through him.

  Master reared his head. He grabbed one of Jase’s hands. “Easy, baby. I’m only trying to help you figure out how to get your life back on track. I’m not kicking you to the curb.” He chuckled ruefully. “I’m not that noble. I want you, but I also want what’s best for you. You’re the only one who gets to decide what that is from now on.”

  Jase instantly relaxed and managed to turn his hand in order to intertwine their fingers. “What I want is to stay with you. And I like cooking. Maybe I can do both for now, take lessons from you in the kitchen and take classes online for other things.”