Blood Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  Blood Dance

  ISBN # 978-1-78651-663-3

  ©Copyright Samantha Cayto 2018

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright January 2018

  Edited by Jamie D. Rose

  Pride Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2018 by Pride Publishing, UK

  Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Alien Blood Wars

  BLOOD DANCE

  Samantha Cayto

  Book one in the Alien Blood Wars series

  What lurks in the dark is not always a monster. Sometimes it’s your deepest desire.

  A thousand years ago, Alex captained an alien ship that crashed on Earth. Stranded, he has tried to keep his men together while forging a new life. He’s locked into a never-ending war with mutinous crewmembers that makes unsuspecting humans collateral damage. That humans mistake them as vampires is all to the good. Humans are still not ready to learn that aliens live among them. Alex has finally found some peace running a private club, but the memories of a human—loved and lost—keeps him alone.

  Quinn Cooper was kicked out of his family when he came out as gay. Having traveled to Boston, he takes a job in Alex’s club. His boss and the men around him are large, scary and hard to ignore—as is his instant attraction to Alex. Becoming involved with the boss is always tricky. There’s something about Alex, however, that’s too sexy and compelling to ignore.

  Knowing that seducing the vulnerable and virginal Quinn is a bad idea, Alex tries to keep his distance. He’s also trying to protect the boy and everyone else when the traitorous crew once more stirs up trouble. Alex’s and Quinn’s growing attraction leads Quinn closer to the frightening truth of whose bed he shares, while putting him in unfathomable harm’s way. Alex has to find a path forward to end the alien war for good or risk losing another love.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  The Flash: DC Comics Inc.

  Maker’s Mark: Maker’s Mark Distillery Inc.

  Ferragamo: Salvatore Ferragamo S.P.A.

  Count Dracula: Bram Stoker and Marvel Characters Inc.

  Apache: Boeing Defense, Space and Security

  Gucci: Gucci America Inc.

  Starbucks: Starbucks Coffee Company Corporation

  Cadillac Escalade: General Motors Corporation

  Alexander McQueen: AutumnPaper Limited LLC

  Armani: Giorgio Armani S.p.A.

  Boston Red Sox: Boston Red Sox Baseball Club LP

  Frankenstein: Mary Shelley

  Uber: Uber Technologies Inc.

  Mercy: Shawn Mendes, Ilsey Juber, Danny Parker, Teddy Geiger

  Harley-Davidson: H-D USA LLC

  Castle Island: Massachusetts Department of Conservation and Recreation

  Prologue

  Southern Carpathian Mountains, 1022

  “Blow it.” The captain gave the order in the same measured tone that he’d used throughout the long journey and the emergency landing. He had no choice. His crew depended on his staying calm and in control, even though his insides were quaking as much as theirs.

  “You can’t be serious!” His first officer dared to grab his arm and put his face in close. His furious expression was like a physical punch. “We’ll be trapped here forever.”

  Shaking off the hold, the captain said, “We’re already marooned, you fool. We cannot allow the indigenous population to see our craft, let alone claim it.”

  With a jerk of his head, he reiterated his order. The young engineer, who was forced to take on the mantle of chief, set off his series of well-placed charges. The great irony of their crash was that while most of their essentials were so much metallic junk, the explosives they’d carried to take core samples from planets had survived.

  They did their adapted job admirably. The remnants of his very first ship as captain turned into a fiery ball that shot plumes of flame high into the night sky. What will the natives think of such a sight? Who can say? They were undoubtedly still pondering the meaning of the bright streak created by the crash, so one more unfathomable event hardly mattered.

  The first officer bared his teeth, the glow of the fire shining off the white enamel. “You’ve doomed us! We’re stranded here now.”

  “Our fates were sealed the moment we left the wormhole prematurely.”

  “A mistake made by your navigator.”

  “Yes, and he paid the ultimate penalty for it.” The captain closed his eyes briefly against the pain of his loss. He’d hand-picked most of the crew and now over two-thirds of them were gone. He forced calm into his voice before he gave in to the temptation to shove his fist into his first officer’s face. This bickering was useless—and dangerous. If they had any hope of surviving, they needed to work together.

  “We were never going to be able to fix the ship. This primitive ball of dirt won’t have what we need. The longer we left the wreck intact, the more likely local intelligent beings would get over their fear and come explore the goings-on here. You’ve already killed two of them,” he added with a snarl because he still felt guilty.

  The male scoffed. “They got too close. I did what had to be done, and what do you care? These creatures are far beneath our species. Their intelligence is less than that of a child. They spend their days watching other animals eat grass that they’ve just pissed and shit in.”

  “Exactly. In small numbers, they are no threat to us. There are less lethal ways to deal with them, but we can’t afford to let others of their kind know we are on their planet. They will react out of fear and we number only thirty now. If enough of them attack, not even our weapons will save us.”

  The male’s eyes flashed with glee. “Then we attack them first. If we have to live on this far-flung place, at least we can rule it as we see fit.”

  “No! We are warriors, trained and pledged to defend.”

  “Our own people—the hive.”

  “Everyone!” he roared, his patience at an end. There were more important and urgent matters. They needed to move on from this place and find somewhere to settle before the locals got bolder, an isolated spot until they could determine how to blend into this wo
rld. Thankfully, their species appeared outwardly similar enough to give them a fighting chance to do so.

  As he stared his first officer, the others arranged themselves in an emerging pattern. Half of the surviving crew placed themselves behind the belligerent male, while the captain could feel others covering his back.

  So, is this how it’s going to be?

  He tried for more patience and reason. “We must work together to forge some kind of life. Perhaps our people will find us one day. Maybe the highest of the creatures living on this planet will gain technology and wisdom to a point that we can reveal ourselves and find a way home.”

  He stared into the eyes of someone he’d thought of as a friend, someone else he’d picked for his crew. “We have a long time to discover a solution to our situation. This planet can support us. The sun may be too bright, but the night comes often enough. We can breathe the air and the lower gravity makes it easy for us to maneuver. Even the available food is palatable so far.”

  The officer flicked his tongue across his teeth. “The aliens do taste good. Sweet,” he added with a heavy-lidded gaze.

  Sometimes being captain meant putting aside personal disgust and doing what was best for the crew. “Yes, their blood can sustain us, but there are other things to consume. We will not kill sentient beings again unless we are given no choice. In time, we might find those who will be willing to feed us.”

  Although the officer raised his eyebrows at the word ‘willing’, he also inclined his head in subtle submission. “You heard the captain,” he bellowed to those around them. “Pack what you have and be ready to move. This place holds nothing for us now.”

  His officer had said the right words, sending the crew scrambling to obey, yet when he turned back to nod once again, there was a look in his eye that told the captain all he needed to know.

  The battle over the course their future would take was not finished.

  Chapter One

  Boston, Massachusetts, 2017

  Quinn blinked a few times to help adjust his vision to the dimness of the club. Compared to the bright, sunny day outside, the black walls, carpet and low-lit sconces gave the entryway a tunnel-like effect. The rapid eye movement caused his world to tilt a bit—or that might have been the gnawing hunger. He’d spent his last few dollars on a stale sandwich more than twenty-four hours ago and he was beginning to feel the drop in blood sugar. God, if I don’t get this job, I’m totally screwed. He’d have to implement Plan B, and given that it meant selling his body on the street, he prayed that wouldn’t happen.

  The short hall led to a massive, two-story club room. For a second, Quinn stood and stared at the gorgeous opulence that was Lux, according to the sign on the door—a private gentlemen’s club. The open floor plan contained a sunken dance floor surrounded by plush circular booths all along the edges. A shiny, dark wooden bar ran the length of the back wall and high-tops of the same material dotted the railings of the interior. Everything here was black, too, trimmed with silver and red.

  What caught his attention the most, however, were the small, round stages at the four corners of the dance floor. Each one had a stripper pole imbedded in the middle. That was where he’d be working—if he got the job and if he didn’t pass out from lack of food or an overload of adrenaline. Why did I think coming to Boston would be a good idea? He should have stayed in Michigan and found some low-paying work until he could afford to be bold. Right now, he felt like a lost kid in the big city. Thank God, he hadn’t stopped in New York. The Big Apple would have eaten him alive in five seconds.

  Instead of the two days that Beantown is threatening to take.

  “Hey, kid, what’s doing?”

  Quinn jumped at the sudden question, issued in a booming voice to his left. Turning, he saw a huge man lounging at one of the plush tables against the wall. He had black hair in a Mohawk cut, pale skin and impressively large muscles bulging out of a tight, dark T-shirt. He had ‘bouncer’ written all over him, yet regarded Quinn with an appraising intelligence that made his empty belly quake even more.

  The only thing breaking up the frightening façade was a red-headed twink curled in the guy’s lap like a cat. The boy sported a half-shaved hairstyle where one side was stubble and the other had thick, straight strands curved against his jaw. Silver hoops twinkled around the shell of his ear. Quinn envied the edgy look and wondered if he could pull it off. That was, if he started making money, which wouldn’t happen if he stood there with his mouth open.

  Mustering the last of his courage, he answered, “An online ad said you were hiring go-go boys. I’m…ah, here to apply for the job.” The fact that the club was advertising for boys, not girls, told him it was for gay patrons. The sight of the bouncer-guy with the twink confirmed it.

  The hulk and his boy toy stared some more at Quinn. He tried not to shrink under the attention. He knew he had a scuzzy appearance, having traveled by bus for a couple of days and catching what sleep he could on a park bench the previous night. He’d at least gone to the nearby train station and washed in the men’s room as best he could. He’d also put on the last of his clean jeans and a rumpled button-down that his grandmother had given him the previous Christmas—before he’d come out and turned into a wicked child undeserving of anything.

  The man licked his lower lip. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen, sir.” He knew he appeared younger and hoped that would earn him both a job and more tips. God, it sucks counting on the world being populated by pervs in order to make a living.

  The man shot him a skeptical look. “You got ID.?”

  “Yes, sir.” Quinn walked to the table while he fished his wallet from his front pocket. He pulled out his driver’s license and offered it.

  The man reached over without having to move—his arm being that long—and plucked the plastic card from Quinn’s trembling hand. He was so hungry and stressed that he felt like he was going to fly apart—or pass out. Face-planting on the thick carpet was a definite possibility.

  “Relax, kid. I don’t bite…much,” the bouncer added with a flash of gleaming white teeth.

  The redhead giggled and snuggled closer to the broad chest he curled against. Something predatory flashed in the boy’s one visible eye. Quinn ignored it. He wouldn’t mind putting up with some bitchiness if it meant earning a living without having to suck off strange men in alleys.

  With a grunt, the man handed back the card. The action caused their fingers to touch and the bouncer’s felt oddly cool. “Seems legit, although I’d swear you’re no older than sixteen. I suppose the members will like that, though,” he added with another blinding smile. “Go take him to the boss, Mackie.”

  The boy made a little mew with his pouty, full lips, but slipped off the man’s lap, anyway. He looked incredibly slutty to Quinn, wearing a white sleeveless crop-top hanging off one shoulder and skinny jeans that hugged his thin body.

  Cocking his hip, the boy raked his gaze up and down Quinn with his lips pursed. “You sure you can hack being a go-go boy? At a glance, I’d say you just got off the bus from get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here, Iowa, or something.”

  Quinn squared his shoulders. He wasn’t going to let this kid get under his skin. “Close. It was Michigan, actually.”

  The twink opened his mouth and a yelp came out because the man had swatted his ass. “Be nice, Mackie, and do as you’re told…or else.”

  Mackie gave a petulant sniff and glanced over his shoulder. “You’ll punish me later?”

  Jesus, the guy sounds eager for it.

  The man gave him an indulgent smile. “Yeah, except it will be the kind you don’t like.”

  “Humph.” Mackie turned his gaze to Quinn. “Come on. Let’s go see the boss. I suppose you’ll be okay,” he added with a flick of his wrist.

  “Thank you, sir.” Quinn gave the man a quick nod before falling into step beside Mackie.

  They walked over to one end of the bar to a small elevator recessed into the wall.

&n
bsp; Mackie pushed the call button. “Just an FYI, sweetheart, Val is all mine.”

  “Val?” The door swooshed open and they stepped inside.

  Mackie pushed the top button for the fifth floor. “Yeah, the man I was recently and happily groping until you arrived. He’s the head bouncer and the boss’ right-hand man,” he added with a flip of the long part of his hair. “They’re also cousins or something. This is mostly a family-run business, except for a few outsiders like me. I’ve been here for over a year already,” he added, as if proving his standing. “Val and I have been an exclusive item for most of that time. Neither of us is into sharing, either.” He shot a warning at Quinn.

  “Oh. No worries. I’m here for a job, not a boyfriend.”

  “Great, then we should get along famously.”

  The short ride caused sufficient movement to make Quinn lightheaded again. When they stepped into a small vestibule, he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Mackie pushed a button on an intercom by a large door opposite the elevator. Like everything else in the place, the color scheme ran to black, red and silver and the lighting was muted.

  “Yes?” A deep, rich voice floated out and right into Quinn’s nervous system, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms and the back of his neck.

  Mackie glanced up and following his gaze, Quinn saw a small camera mounted in the corner. “Val sent me for you to interview a dancer.” The boy jerked his thumb in Quinn’s direction.

  There was no response for a few seconds, and once again, Quinn straightened his back to put on the best appearance. He could feel invisible eyes judging him. A clicking sound came from the door and Mackie twisted the handle to open it. Apparently, the boss was a man of few words.

  The apartment they walked into followed the same décor as everything else. It was done in an open loft plan, yet it managed to convey a sense of coziness. Probably the dim lighting. Quinn felt as if he’d entered a cave—a lair, really—and its inhabitant didn’t do anything to dispel that feeling as he strode toward them. Quinn’s breath caught in his throat and his steps faltered.