Blood Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  Trey grimaced and busied himself studying the site, even though he’d already been doing so for the last couple of hours. The perp had managed to string the vic into an almost cross-like position, which would assuredly drive the media wild with its illusions to—as Karl had said—“Jesus Fucking Christ”, even though his partner hadn’t meant it quite like that. Even now, helicopters circled the Charles, getting close-up shots that were certainly being streamed live over television and the Internet, although the picture would be blurred, no doubt, given the victim’s nudity. That was some small blessing, he supposed, to help preserve the poor man’s dignity in death.

  “Ah, shit.” He swore without any real heat at the sight of two familiar men cutting an easy swath through the crowd to get close to the bridge.

  The arrival of the Lux boys didn’t surprise him—not really. They were either in this butchery up to their eyeballs or they’d seen the news and come out of the same curiosity as the others.

  “Hey, Karl? Have a uniform call down for the Ghoul Quarterly models to be brought here. I want to see if they know this latest victim.”

  With a snort, Karl called out to a cop and relayed the order. Trey braced himself once more on the bridge railing and watched as a uniformed officer at the cordon received the command, sought out the Stelalux men and ushered them over. As the two approached, Trey could only mentally shake his head at the way their ‘casual’ clothing looked like it cost more than his monthly take-home pay. It struck him as odd, too, that they were covered so much, given the warmth of the day. There was something odd about these men.

  Vampires.

  He scoffed at his own flight of fancy. They were just privileged foreigners with a kinky lifestyle. He, of all people, should know better than to judge them for being different. Still, he wanted to sneer at the big boss’s man bun. He didn’t. The arresting masculine beauty got to him. It grated that the guy was probably the only man on the planet who could pull off that particular hairstyle.

  A thump behind him had him turning in time to see the morgue attendants wrestle the victim into the waiting body bag. When they went to zipper it, he stopped them with a quick, barking ‘wait’ because he wanted the club owner and bouncer to have a chance to view the remains. Without a single shred of identification available, it might take days—or even never—to identify the guy. Trey half-hoped it was another club member. That at least would give them a firmer trail to follow, not that the feds would allow them to continue now.

  Shit.

  The Stelalux cousins approached him with sure steps. If the sight of the body bothered them, they didn’t show it, not in the normal way. As they’d done at the club with the news of the first murder, they crossed themselves. Well, that made a mockery of any ridiculous notion that they were vampires. Maybe they were so tired of people cracking that particular joke their way that they’d adopted the gesture in defense.

  He planted himself in their path. “Gentlemen, thanks for coming.”

  Alex Stelalux stared at him through his undoubtedly very expensive sunglasses, his eyes too hidden by the tinted lens to be readable. “Of course, sergeant. We came as soon as we saw it on the news. I assume you want us to view the victim to see if we know him.” It was a statement, not a question, and the man’s reading of the situation irked him for some reason.

  He stepped to one side. “Yes, if you don’t mind. It might be another of your members.”

  “Crowell was a former member, but I get your meaning.” He didn’t hesitate to approach the body.

  Neither did his cousin, who gave Trey a carnivorous kind of smile as he passed. His spooky eyes were totally obscured in his aviator glasses. Too sexy for his clothes went through Trey’s mind. There was no denying these guys had balls.

  “Give them room,” he called out.

  Everyone gave the enormous men a wide berth, and he couldn’t blame them. No matter what they wore, their power was on full display. Standing side-by-side, they stared at the sad remains of the victim. It occurred to Trey that someone of great strength and arm-reach would have had to have hung the body. If it wasn’t one of these men, it had to be someone of similar height and build.

  He sauntered up to them. This close, it was even more obvious that the victim bore the same marks of violence as Crowell, although his throat was more intact.

  “Do you recognize him?”

  “No.” That was Alex speaking for the two of them. There was something about this man’s authority over the other that spoke of more than mere boss and employee. Given their bearing and demeanor, he had a feeling they might have even served in the military together. Does Romania even have one? They must. Virtually every country does.

  Alex turned to Trey, taking his glasses off. Trey had a good view of the man’s unusual violet eyes. “I’m sorry, no. He wasn’t a member and we don’t know him otherwise.”

  Trey shifted his attention to the other man. “And you, Mr. Stelalux?” He knew the answer, yet wanted to hear it from the guy, anyway, if for no other reason than it was still his goddamn job to find the killer until the feds shoved him aside.

  The bouncer, Val, joined his boss’s side. He didn’t take off his glasses as he answered, “No, sir.”

  Trey banked his disappointment. “I see. I’m also going to have ask you where you were last night.” Logan’s assertion notwithstanding, he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that the killer was one of these men—or even both of them.

  Alex raised his eyebrows. “Oh, are we still suspects, sergeant?”

  “I have to pursue all avenues, sir.”

  “Of course. I was at the club most of the night then home in bed. And, before you ask if anyone can verify any of that, there were lots of members milling about. I really wish you’d be discreet about interviewing them, should you feel the need to.” He paused. “Quinn was with me until Val called about this unfortunate discovery being on the news. That means the boy and I both have the necessary alibis.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Trey wasn’t surprised, and while it was possible the boy would lie for his lover and vice versa, he also knew that Stelalux still didn’t play well with him as the killer. He turned to the bouncer. “I assume you have a similar answer?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, thank you for coming, anyway, gentlemen. We seem to have a serial killer on our hands. That’s my problem, though, not yours.”

  Alex flicked his glasses back on and murmured something else. Something that sounded like, “I wish that were true.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Alex smiled. “We’ll leave you to it, then.” With that, they sauntered away as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  Trey wasn’t fooled, not in the least. Rational or not, he couldn’t shake the idea that those men had more to do with this nightmare than they let on.

  * * * *

  Alex found his boy exactly where he’d left him. And Quinn was his boy. To say otherwise—to even think otherwise—would be a pointless exercise in fooling himself. With Adrian’s murder spree breathing down their necks, he didn’t want to play that kind of game. Despite his confidence in his ability to defeat Dracul yet again, he also feared the fall-out this time more than any other. Millions of humans had become collateral damage in the thousand-year war their two factions had waged.

  One loss more than the others had cut Alex to the quick. He’d vowed to ensure that never happened again. Yet here he was, exposing himself to the possibility of that agonizing hurt. He just couldn’t help it. From the moment that shy, vulnerable Quinn had entered his loft to beg for a job, Alex had been helpless to avoid his destiny. And now, he’d reached a crossroads. He either pushed the boy away or pulled him in close.

  As he’d returned to his loft toting a breakfast tray for the second day in a row, he’d achieved a surprising measure of peace with his decision.

  He walked up the bedroom steps in his usual silent way, not wanting to wake Quinn if he still slept. The sight of the small lump curled under
the sheet made him smile. After placing the tray on the nightstand, he allowed himself the pleasure of simply watching. Quinn’s lips twitched and he let out a puffy breath. Then he sighed and rolled over onto his back, one arm flung over his head. His pretty blond hair stuck out in adorable spikes.

  Quinn’s eyelashes fluttered open. A look of confusion crossed his sweet face before a smile broke out. “Hi.”

  Alex returned the greeting. “Hi.” He sat beside Quinn and reached over to tuck a bit of hair behind the boy’s ear. “I’m glad you were able to go back to sleep.”

  He immediately regretted saying anything. Quinn’s expression changed as he remembered how they’d been woken earlier.

  The boy pushed to a sitting position and frowned. “There was another murder.”

  Alex grimaced. “Yes.”

  “Anyone you knew?”

  The strand of hair fell forward again. Alex tucked it back and took the opportunity to stroke Quinn’s cheek. “No. The poor man wasn’t a member or anyone that I could recall ever meeting.”

  Leaning into Alex’s touch, the boy closed his eyes briefly then he became more alert. “You were able to see him? The body, I mean.”

  Alex dropped his hand. “Yes. Duncan was there, of course, and he had us brought in close to see if we knew the victim.”

  Quinn chewed at his lower lip. “Was he like Crowell? You know?” He brought his hand to his throat.

  Alex clasped it and brought it back again. “Don’t think about it. You’re perfectly safe here, you know.”

  Quinn huffed out a breath and his cheeks turned a soft pink. “Yeah, I do.” He peeked at him from under his lashes. “You’re like the biggest, baddest guy I’ve ever met.”

  “You know I’d never use that strength to hurt you?”

  “Of course.” He gave Alex an impish grin and slid his gaze sideways. “Is that breakfast?”

  “It is.” Alex picked up a tall, cold glass with a straw sticking out. “I brought iced coffee. Emil keeps cold brew in the kitchen.” He handed it over.

  Quinn took it and sipped eagerly. “Oh, man,” he said, stopping for air, “that’s awesome.” He wiggled to lean against the headboard. “What’s there to eat?”

  “Egg sandwich.” Alex grabbed the plate and held it out for Quinn to take the food in his other hand. He watched the boy alternate between big bites of food and long sips.

  “Aren’t you eating?” he asked Alex around his mouthful.

  “I did already.”

  “Hmm.” Quinn kept busy with his breakfast for a few more minutes. His gaze skidded to the side. “I’m not sure what to do.”

  Alex was perplexed by the confession. “About what?” He put his hand on the boy’s covered knee and resisted the urge to slide it farther.

  Quinn swallowed. “About this.” He gestured around the room. “Am I supposed to thank you for taking my cherry and feeding me breakfast then pretend this never happened? Was it the last time we’re going to be together?”

  “Oh, dearest boy.” Leaning over, Alex plucked the almost-empty glass from Quinn’s fingers.

  He kept going until he’d captured the human’s lips in a bruising kiss. He dropped the glass on the tray and crawled onto the bed all the way so that he could wrap Quinn up and drag him close. His dick hardened as much as his jeans would allow. A similar hardness pressed against his thigh through the blanket that separated their bodies.

  Alex slid his palm down Quinn’s naked back and cupped his ass. He ground the boy against him, soaking each little moan into his own mouth. With his grip, he made Quinn hump his thigh. When he tucked one finger into the puckered ring of Quinn’s hole, the boy jerked, then thrashed. He gave one long groan before shaking in Alex’s embrace.

  Alex held the kiss until the boy fell limp. “Does that reassure you on that point?”

  Quinn dropped his head on Alex’s chest and panted through the aftershocks of his climax. “Uh-huh,” he managed.

  Pulling his finger free, he slapped the still-quivering ass. “Then let’s get you in the shower.”

  * * * *

  Quinn didn’t think he’d ever be able to shower again without thinking of blowjobs. Apparently, when two guys were in a relationship and they bathed together, one of them would land on his knees. At least, he thought that was the case. As he’d knelt on the tile to suck Quinn’s insatiable cock, Alex had just laughed at the idea that doing it was somehow contrary to the original purpose of showering. Given that he’d only stayed upright because Alex had held him, Quinn hadn’t been in any position to argue the point.

  He’d never felt looser in his life. At the same time, his body ached in a few places in a way he’d never known before. His ass felt as if Alex’s big cock was still inside, while at the same time, it also felt empty. His inner thighs were also sore, the result of having been stretched as much as his hole to accommodate the general hugeness that was Alex. He even had some finger-print-sized bruises on his hips and arms where his lover had held on to him with a punishing grip that also let Quinn know he was safe.

  His lover.

  That sounded weird. So did the notion that he was in a relationship, but Alex had made that clear, as well. They hadn’t had a one-night stand, which would have been miraculous enough. No, Alex had looked at him with a proprietary gleam in his eyes and had asked him to join him in the loft later in the day for dinner—just the two of them.

  Now that he had plans for sex instead of falling into the moment, he’d started to be even more nervous. Alex was a magnificent man. What does he see in a scrawny twink like me? Well, some guys liked that, of course. Val did, except Mackie was totally cool and sexy in a way that Quinn never would be. At the very least, though, he could do something to tone and build muscle.

  With that plan in place, he’d come to the in-house gym as soon as his legs had been steady again. He’d never been one to work out. He’d been too afraid of the jocks in high school to enter their domain and too afraid that his attraction to them would be obvious. His gayness had been clear to many in school, no matter what he’d done. The bullying had been sporadic, yet routine. He hadn’t wanted to invite even more abuse.

  He found he liked using the fancy machines. The rhythm of pulling this and pressing that with the just the right amount of weight made exercise almost easy. It allowed him to relive his time with Alex without risking dropping something heavy on his foot.

  “Someone’s got that well-fucked look.”

  “Jesus!” The metal bar slipped out of Quinn’s hand, dropping the weight with a loud clang. He glared at the grinning face on the other side of the machine. “Don’t sneak up on me, Mackie.”

  The boy flipped his hair. “Why not? It’s fun. Besides,” he added, reaching out to grab Quinn’s left bicep. “You don’t want to overdo it. If you get too jacked, Alex might not want you anymore.”

  “Huh!” Grabbing the towel he’d brought in with him, he swiped at the meager perspiration on his face. “As if I could ever approach anything remotely like jacked.” He gnawed at his lower lip. “Do you think Alex likes twinks?”

  Mackie cocked his hip and flipped a hand in Quinn’s direction. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present Exhibit A.”

  Quinn hunched in on himself. “Shut up,” he said, without meaning it.

  Mackie wound one arm around the machine and leaned in. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how was it? And, don’t say an eleven.”

  His cheeks just got hotter and he gazed at the ground. “Even if it was?”

  Mackie let out a whoop and came around to give him a bear hug. “Congratulations, sweetie! That’s awesome.”

  Embarrassed and delighted in equal measure, Quinn returned the embrace. “I know. I can’t believe it finally happened.”

  Pulling back, Mackie smirked. “So dish. I want all the details.”

  Quinn raised his eyebrows. “No. I can’t do that.”

  “Can’t do what?” An impish face popped into his peripheral vision.

&nbs
p; “Jesus!” Quinn said for the second time in less than five minutes. “Demi, where did you come from?”

  The exotic boy just shrugged then added more weight to the machine Quinn had been using. “I’m allowed to leave my room every once in a while, you know.” He sauntered over and hip-checked Quinn and Mackie out of the way before pulling on the bar.

  Quinn raised his eyebrows at Mackie. Despite his slight build, Demi showed some impressive strength. Mackie rolled his eyes and mouthed the word ‘freaky’ before moving away.

  “So, what were we talking about?” The boy didn’t even sound winded.

  “We weren’t talking about anything,” Mackie sniffed. “Nothing for your little boy ears, anyway.”

  Demi made a face. “That means sex, which I already guessed. Hard to miss that Cousin Alex is fucking the new boy.”

  The blatant statement, especially coming from such a young guy, made Quinn gasp.

  “What? I’m not a little kid. I know what fucking is. It would be nice for once to hear about it in real terms. My parents have only given me the clinical basics.”

  Quinn wiped at his forehead again, the conversation making him sweat far more than the workout had. “Are you gay?”

  Demi let the bar go and shrugged. “More poly, I guess. I mean I’m attracted to all types. And, I’d like to know what to expect when I finally meet someone.”

  “You’re too young, regardless. Tell him, Mackie,” Quinn added when Demi made a face.

  Mackie was no help, though. He went wide-eyed at the plea. “Why would I do that? He’s not that young. I was thirteen my first time.”

  Shocked at the news, even though he thought himself worldlier than that, Quinn sputtered. “But thirteen is way too young for sex.”

  Mackie averted his eyes. “That’s not what the man who popped my cherry thought.” When no one said anything for a few seconds, he huffed. “Fine. Demi, you need to wait until you’re married to that one special man—or woman—who will love you forever and ever. Satisfied?” he asked Quinn.

  “Don’t be such a dick.” He redirected his focus on Demi. “Okay. I don’t want to go into details with anyone. What Alex and I do is private. But you really are too young right now. Don’t be in such a hurry.”