Blood Dance

by Samantha Cayto

He tried not to be pleased at the sound of his name tripping past those luscious lips. He tried, as well, to ignore the rumpled hair and sleepy eyes that reminded him of bed and the fun that could be had there.

  “Sorry to wake you.” He made his voice brisk, business-like. “There’s been some unpleasantness concerning that man who harassed you last night.”

  Quinn’s eyes widened. “What’s the matter? Did he return to the club?”

  “Not exactly.” Alex winced, hating to have to bring trouble to the boy’s door. “I’m afraid the police have come because Crowell was murdered last night in the public alley next door.”

  “Oh, God!” Stumbling back, Quinn allowed the door to swing open, giving Alex a fetching view of the boy standing in his boxer-briefs. Somehow, it seemed even more provocative than seeing him the previous night in a thong.

  It was the setting. Being in a bedroom made it that much more sexual. Alex’s cock stiffened at the sight. He took a deliberate step back, even though he very much wanted to go forward. He could grab the boy, toss him on the bed, sink his teeth into all that lovely pale skin while he thrust inside what was undoubtedly a very tight channel.

  Shit. Alex took another step backward. “Don’t worry. The police only want to ask you a few questions.”

  Quinn’s chest heaved. “They think I killed him.”

  “Nonsense. One look at you and they’ll cross you off any list of possible killers they have. I’m the one they likely suspect.”

  The boy worried his lower lip with his front teeth. “But you didn’t.”

  It came out as sounding like a statement, yet Alex chose to treat it like a question. “No, I didn’t. I never deal with a problem using a sledge hammer when a tack one will do.” He flashed a smile to ease the edginess in his voice. “Now, get dressed as quick as you can. I’ll wait by the elevator.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alex didn’t linger, resisting the desire to watch the boy turn in order to catch a glimpse of his enticing ass. Instead, he waited by the elevator, forcing control back into his mind and body. Quinn didn’t make him wait long, either. Within a few minutes, he joined Alex, wearing a T-shirt, jeans and flip-flops. He looked as if he’d run his fingers through his hair, but he smelled sweetly of mint—toothpaste, no doubt, and likely deodorant, too. Humans had become obsessed in the last hundred years in eliminating body odor. He rather wished they hadn’t. He’d found their earthier smells appealing.

  “I stayed in my room the whole night after you escorted me from the kitchen,” Quinn said as they entered the elevator.

  “Of course you did.” Alex made the mistake of placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder in reassurance. The warmth of the human’s body seeped into his palm, causing his heartbeat to accelerate. So did Quinn’s. Alex could hear it, feel it and see it by the way the pulse at the base of the boy’s throat thrummed faster.

  Alex pulled his hand back as if scorched. “Don’t worry,” he said, staring straight ahead and laboring to keep himself under control. “Just tell them the truth and all will be well.”

  That was a lie. At the very least, Alex and Val would have to track whomever of their former shipmates had killed Crowell and deal with him themselves, not that the police stood a chance of finding him and bringing him to their form of justice. Even if they could, Alex knew that the killer was his responsibility. He was still the captain, even though his ship had been destroyed on his orders. If he didn’t deal with this latest problem, he knew from experience that more humans would die. He couldn’t let that happen.

  The moment the doors opened on the ground floor, he smelled coffee, eggs and bacon. The two cops were still seated at the booth, except now they were eating a breakfast that Emil must have put together in record time. The man had gone from botanist to chef almost immediately and loved nothing more than creating in the kitchen. There was always food ready for consumption, no matter the time of day.

  When Quinn hesitated to step out, Alex pressed his palm against the small of the boy’s back. The touch was just as electrifying as it had been earlier but he ignored it. Soothing the human’s nerves mattered more than anything at the moment.

  “It will be fine,” he reassured him. Using a small amount of pressure, he propelled the boy forward. “Here’s Quinn, gentlemen.”

  The sandy-haired detective looked at him from over his fistful of egg sandwich, before taking another bite. The other one, the leader, put his meal down on the plate to focus on the boy approaching him. This was the man that Alex watched most keenly. The cop was an attractive man with light-brown skin and dark curly hair that hugged his head. He was big for a human, although nowhere near as tall as even the shortest of Alex’s men, and keen intelligence showed through his brown eyes. That was all to the good. Alex expected him to quickly dismiss Quinn as a suspect.

  Ushering Quinn over to the table, Alex made the introductions. Then he urged Quinn to sit in the space Alex had occupied earlier and he stood next to him. If he gave the appearance of a guard for the boy, then so be it. He wanted the cops to know that the boy wasn’t without friends—strong friends.

  Duncan pushed aside his mostly uneaten plate of food and gave Quinn a reassuring smile. “Thanks for coming, Mr. Cooper.”

  Quinn seemed startled by the formality. “Oh, um…sure.” He glanced at Alex, as if for reassurance.

  That gesture of trust pleased Alex and he gave a nod before turning to Val. He wanted Quinn to have something to eat, too. He didn’t even have to ask. Emil was already out with a plate and a glass of orange juice. Alex intercepted him and grabbed it, placing it in front of the boy with a resounding thunk.

  “Given that you’re awake, you should eat.” He flashed a warning look at Duncan when the man frowned. “You don’t mind, do you, sergeant?

  “No, of course not.” He turned his attention to Quinn. “Now, Mr. Cooper—ah, can I call you Quinn?”

  “Sure.” Hunching his shoulders, the boy took a sip of juice.

  Duncan gave him a reassuring smile, and that act of kindness caused him to rise in Alex’s estimation. “So, I expect Mr. Stelalux has filled you in on why we’re here.” At Quinn’s nod, the man continued. “Can you walk us through what happened last night?”

  Fiddling still with his glass, Quinn began to tell his side of the story in a low and halting voice. His cheeks pinked when he described the way Crowell had laid his hands on him and tried to get him to go upstairs.

  Duncan tapped his pen against his notebook. “I see,” he said when Quinn fell silent. “Did Crowell threaten you or hurt you in any way?”

  Quinn shrugged. “Not exactly. Except when I tugged to get free from him, I fell off the stage. I would have hit the floor if Alex hadn’t caught me.”

  “Oh?” Duncan trained his gaze on Alex. “You were that close when it happened? I assume that means you heard any words exchanged by Quinn and Crowell?”

  Shifting a bit to lean against the booth, Alex shook his head. “Not so close. The music is always loud for dancing. I saw the problem unfold and raced over. I got lucky enough to arrive just in time.”

  Duncan tapped his pen some more. “Hmm. So, Quinn, what happened after Mr. Stelalux caught you?”

  The boy recited the rest of the evening, ending with Alex dropping him off at the door to his bedroom. It all sounded boring and plausible, even to Alex’s jaded ears. He felt certain that the police would dismiss Quinn as a possible suspect.

  Duncan leaned back. “I see.” Putting his pen down, he grabbed his egg sandwich and took a big bite. After chewing and swallowing, he gestured to Quinn’s plate. “This really is an excellent breakfast. You should have yours before it gets cold.”

  Quinn did as he’d been told, taking an almost dainty bite of his food. The boy was clearly used to doing what an authority figure said. The knowledge gave Alex all kinds of bad ideas. Dominating the human would be a delight that he needed to resist experiencing.

  Duncan chewed some more. “Thank you for your time, Quinn�
��and yours, Mr. Stelalux. Now, if you’d be so kind as to give me the use of this booth for a while longer, I’m going to need to interview everyone else who was working last night.” He looked at Val. “I assume that includes you, sir. And you, ma’am,” he added, calling to Kitty.

  Alex answered for them both. “Yes, they were both here last night, as they are virtually every night. As was Emil, the chef, and a few others that are currently working or otherwise in the building.”

  “Great. I’d like to speak with each of them, one at a time.”

  “Of course.” Alex forced a smile to his lips. “We’re only too happy to cooperate. The faster you can eliminate any of us as suspects in this sorry affair, the better.”

  And as soon as he got rid of these cops, he and Val could start the necessary process of finding the killer themselves. He turned to gather the rest of his people together but the cop stopped him.

  “Before you go, I have one more question. Do you have security cameras in the alley, by any chance?”

  Alex stared straight into the cop’s eyes and lied. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  Duncan sighed. “Didn’t think so. No reason to, really, but I thought I’d ask.”

  Alex nodded and strode away. There was no point in letting the cops see whatever security feed Val would pull from his system. Whoever had killed Crowell would have either interfered with the system or let it get a good look at the proceedings, depending on whatever game was starting. Either way, he couldn’t let the humans have any more information than was absolutely necessary. This was family business—hive business—when all was said and done, and in the absence of a queen, the duty fell to him.

  Chapter Four

  Quinn grabbed the pole with both hands and swung his body around it before sticking the landing on one foot and striking a provocative pose.

  Watching over by the railing, Mackie clapped a few times. “That was great, nearly perfect.”

  Quinn straightened and grinned back. “I’m not sure I’d go that far, but at least I didn’t fall on my ass this time.”

  He caught the towel Mackie threw at him and wiped sweat off his face. They’d been practicing for hours. The club was quiet in the late afternoon, patrons rarely coming in at that time and the police having concluded their interviews hours ago. He sauntered over to Mackie and after grabbing a bottle of water, took a long pull.

  “Thanks for working with me. I think I’m going to be more confident tonight.” He grimaced. “I just need to put this murder stuff out of my mind.”

  Mackie mimicked his expression. “I know it’s so creepy to think of that guy getting his throat ripped out right outside. I’m mean, that’s grisly, even for an asshole like him.” The boy shuddered. “Nothing we can do about it, anyway. The ‘family’,” he added in air quotes, “is on top of it, so…” He shrugged.

  “What exactly does that mean? What ‘family’?”

  Mackie rolled his eyes. “You know, Alex, Val and the others. They’ve been holed up in Alex’s suite since the cops left. Val didn’t say much when he brought me to talk to Detective Hottie. I assume he and Alex are going to increase security or something. This won’t play well for the club. Members getting their necks chewed off sends the wrong kind of message.”

  Quinn got that. From what Mackie had told him, those members who practiced the BDSM lifestyle put a high value on safe, sane and consensual activity. Crowell’s murder fell under none of those standards. If the killer turned out to be another member or, God forbid, one of the employees, it could prove disastrous for the club’s reputation and membership.

  He took another swig of water. “Which one was the hottie, in your estimation?” And if you have a guy like Val for yourself, why would you even look at another man? If he had someone like, say…Alex in his life, other guys would probably cease to exist for him. Not that he had any chance of catching his boss’ eye, of course. It was a foolish thought.

  “Well, they were both attractive, but I was referring in particular to the one who could be the love-child of Denzel Washington and Vin Diesel.”

  Quinn chuckled. “Yeah, I guess he was pretty hot. He was also gentle in his questioning. It wasn’t anything like you see on TV.”

  “Oh, honey! As if he seriously thought you were a suspect. No way. He’s focusing on the giant Stelalux boys. Now, they could yank out a man’s larynx without breaking a sweat.”

  The very notion had beads of moisture forming on his own skin. Alex had been furious with Crowell. Could he have really done such a thing? Quinn hadn’t seen him for more than an hour after he’d sent him scurrying away from the stage. He could have done it, he supposed.

  “You don’t think one of them is the killer, do you?” he asked.

  At the question, Mackie blinked with exaggeration. “And be stupid enough to leave the body at their own back door? No fucking way! If you think their bodies are big, you should see their minds at work. They are massively smart, even Val—not that I care two shits about the size of his brain. That is definitely not the organ that catches my attention.” He broke into a fit of giggles.

  “What’s so funny?” Demi called out as he raced by them, leaped onto the closest stage and twirled around the pole with more speed and grace than Quinn would ever master. The boy made three rotations before stopping then wrapping one foot around the pole and flipping backward. He hung there with his long hair almost brushing the floor.

  Mackie stopped laughing. “Nothing you need to know about, show-off. And you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on our conversation or playing go-go boy. Don’t you have school work or something? He’s home-schooled year-round,” he added for Quinn’s benefit.

  Demi righted himself and struck the same pose Quinn had moments earlier. This boy was sexier than Quinn had imagined he was. The dark, exotic allure of the kid was going to get him into a boatload of trouble if his fathers didn’t keep close tabs on him.

  “The ‘rents have been behind closed doors with Cousin Alex and Val for hours, and calculus bores the shit out of me.” He climbed the pole using the strength of his arms only, wrapped his thighs around it and hung upside down with his arms folded over his chest.

  Mackie made a noise of disgust. “You look like a bat!” Dropping his voice for Quinn only, he said, “Sometimes I really hate that kid. All that beauty and strength plus an intelligence that would make Einstein weep. He doesn’t get how lucky he is to have so much going for him, especially having two parents that love and support him.”

  “How about we trade places?” Demi called out.

  “Ugh, he has hearing like a bat, too.”

  To prove Mackie’s last point, the boy flipped himself right-side up and landed on his feet a second before Val came striding over from the elevator. Quinn hadn’t heard the doors open, yet there was Val, Emil peeling off to the kitchen and Alex. The sight of the boss made Quinn’s heart beat a little faster and it caught his entire attention. The man’s presence filled the big room the moment he entered. Quinn had the sudden and fleeting thought that whoever the killer was, he would do well to worry about Alex coming after him, compared to the police.

  Val stopped by the railing. “Mackie, come on. I need a break.” Not waiting for an answer, the man turned and headed for the staircase in the far corner.

  With a huff, Mackie cocked his hip and folded his arms in front of his chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear a please in that invitation.”

  Without a hitch to his stride, the bouncer reversed direction and was on Mackie with dizzying speed. Before Quinn could even register what had happened, Val had grabbed Mackie by the waist and tossed him over his shoulder. The boy squealed in alarm, but when Val turned to walk away, Mackie winked at Quinn before struggling to free himself. With a loud smack to the boy’s ass, the bouncer stayed on course and took the stairs two at a time.

  A warm presence along with an earthy scent caught Quinn’s attention. Alex had taken Mackie’s place next to him. The large body made him feel crowded, yet instead
of wanting to inch away, he felt the urge to get closer. He didn’t. Any fantasy he might be spinning about him and this man needed to stay inside his head.

  “Demetrius,” Alex said in that mild tone he used that nevertheless came out with command, “your fathers are undoubtedly searching for you. I suggest you return upstairs.”

  “Yes, sir.” The teenager’s normally snarky expression had disappeared and he trotted off.

  A few seconds later, Alex focused his attention on Quinn. He felt the heat of it even before he saw it. “Please don’t let me interfere with your practicing.”

  Quinn’s usual flush burned his cheeks. “Oh, um…yeah.” Awesome. So articulate. Any idea that a man as obviously cultured and educated as Alex would find an awkward high school dropout like him interesting was plain stupid.

  Feeling ill at ease, he returned to the stage and re-started the routine he and Mackie had worked out for him. The low-level music held the right tempo for what he wanted to do. It was that intense gaze that made him clumsy again. He’d rather face a crowd of drooling men than this one. Wiping his palms on his thighs, he jumped to grab the pole and lost his grip. He slid right onto his ass with a jarring thud that stung his tail bone and rattled his teeth.

  Perfect.

  In what seemed like a split second, Alex was there, kneeling beside him. “Are you all right?” His concerned face loomed in close to Quinn’s.

  From across the mere inches between them, he could see the man’s violet irises. They seemed to change right in front of him to a shade of purple that was almost black. Alex’s nostrils flared with a sharp intake of breath before he grabbed Quinn’s right hand. Without breaking their locked gazes, Alex did the strangest thing. He placed Quinn’s palm against his lips.

  It wasn’t a kiss. Alex lapped what Quinn now felt was stinging skin. As he did so, those mesmerizing eyes staring over the edge of his hand got even darker. Their intensity pulled Quinn in. He felt trapped, helpless to look away. He became aware of the heavy beat of his heart. His palm seemed to pulse with the same rhythm while Alex’s tongue bathed it. All other sound became muted and his vision tunneled so that all he saw were those amazing eyes.