Blood Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  Quinn clasped his hand over the man’s larger one. “You didn’t take any blood this time. Why not?”

  A sigh ruffled his hair. “I don’t want to be greedy. You’ve already sacrificed three fingertips. That’s more than I could have hoped for you to do so early in our relationship—or ever, really.”

  Warmth flooded his insides at the casual mention that they were in a relationship and not simply friends with benefits. “I, um…wanted to do that for you. It was no big deal, not like letting you bite my neck or anything.” Even as he said it, he wondered if he could take that next step—and soon.

  “And I am touched beyond words. Such a humbling act of trust. I won’t ask for more and I don’t want you to think you need to give me more.” Flexing his hips to drive his still-hard dick farther into Quinn’s ass, he added, “I don’t need blood to love what we have.”

  Quinn forced himself to ignore that word ‘love’ being bandied about. It didn’t mean anything. People said it all the time. Loving what they did was no different from loving ice cream. It was just an expression, nothing more.

  “I think, though, I enjoyed it, too,” he confessed. “It made everything more intense somehow.”

  Alex drew slow circles around Quinn’s navel. “Really? It affected you?” At his nod, Alex hummed. “Interesting. That’s not always the case. My hu…my lovers don’t always get anything out of it.”

  Sleep dragged at him and he couldn’t quite stifle another yawn. This quiet, cozy talking in the dark was almost as good as the sex. “It felt like you were sucking the cum right out of me, along with the blood.”

  Alex chuckled. “Keep saying things like that, sweetheart, and I’m going to end up fucking you again.”

  “Okay.” Sweetheart. The use of the simple endearment was somehow more intimate than any other pet names Alex had used.

  “No.” The man stilled his hand and brought it to sit right under Quinn’s heart. “Go to sleep.”

  “Hmm.” Quinn couldn’t get more than that out, exhaustion dousing him like water.

  “You’re safe here with me. Nothing and no one can touch you.”

  As his mind shut down, Quinn had only a second to wonder why Alex felt the need to reassure him on that point. Still, I do feel safe, so what does it matter?

  Chapter Ten

  Wales

  Dracul swirled the bottle of amber liquid, impressed despite his fury. “Hiding it in plain sight, pet. And here I thought I’d chosen you for your exquisite beauty and tight hole.”

  With one last quirk of his lips, he drew back his arm and flung the glass container at the fireplace. It shattered with a satisfying crash that reverberated around the room. Drops of the medicine dripped off the stone into the fire with a hiss. He strolled over to the bed, allowing the naked, kneeling boy tied to the posts to read his future in Dracul’s eyes.

  It wasn’t going to be a good one.

  Already that pretty face bore the marks of Dracul’s fist. Blood dripped temptingly from the corner of petulant lips. Oh, yes, he’d underestimated the foolhardiness of this human. Dafydd had thought he could deceive him and had succeeded enough to enrage him. It would take all his discipline not to tear the boy limb-from-limb.

  Grabbing a handful of the human’s hair, he twisted it around his fist to draw the face up. He licked the drying blood with one long lap of his tongue. Delicious. The intoxicating taste of near-eternal youth mixed with fear was one reason why he would keep the boy alive. That, and he didn’t want to have to turn another. Dafydd had proved fertile and capable of surviving a delivery. Nothing mattered more than increasing his ranks via his own seed.

  “You thought you could cheat me of sons,” he whispered into the trembling human’s ear. “My poor nervous boy, always drinking your silly potion in order to calmly serve your master.”

  He bit the lobe to taste the blood and to make his point. “Did you think I would never wonder, never test the contents to see if somehow it was interfering with your fertility? Do you think you’re clever? That you can outwit me?”

  His eyes blurred for a moment as his anger surged. “You’ve been killing my seed—my sons!”

  He roared into the pale face that now dripped with that ridiculous thing humans called tears. His fangs dropped. “I am going to fill your alien womb with as many sons as can fit, year after year. You will never know a moment when my seed isn’t growing inside your pathetic body.”

  He grabbed the human’s flaccid cock and balls, squeezing until those tears came faster and the boy screamed. “I will punish you first, of course.” He let his tone drop to a more reasonable one, as if they were discussing nothing more than the weather. “Nothing to damage your fertility, just enough to remind you—again—who owns you. I might cut all this off, finally. You don’t need it. You’re nothing more than a female now, anyway.”

  He yanked hard, just to hear another scream pass those swollen, bleeding lips. “You do this to yourself, you know. If only you’d been more accommodating to my needs. I saved your worthless life from the muck and misery you were mired in, gave you untold luxury and nearly endless youth and yet you repay my largess by defying me.”

  Dafydd stared back at him with a rebelliousness that showed through the fear. Dracul could almost admire him for it. “You are a monster! I would rather be dead and turned to dust than live a life under you. You didn’t save me. You kidnapped me and raped me and twisted my body into something to serve you.”

  Dracul smiled. “You’re never so beautiful as when you’re angry, my dear. Let’s see if I can keep that emotion boiling on the surface, shall I?”

  The door to the bed chamber opened after a perfunctory knock, stifling any reply Dafydd might have made. Dracul hissed at the interruption. His irritation abated somewhat at the sight of Petru. That man was wise enough to only bother him with something important.

  Petru’s gaze flicked to the sight of Dafydd before settling back on Dracul. He bowed slightly. “Forgive the intrusion, sir. I have an update from Adrian.”

  Oh, yes, business before pleasure. “What is it?”

  “He reports that Alexandru seems to have taken a new human to his bed.” He licked his top teeth. “At least, the boy is living in his club.”

  “Hmm. Doesn’t really mean anything. That soft-hearted idiot always did like to pick up strays. Still, killing his last pet did take him out of my way for a time. Alex’s weakness disgusts me, yet I can’t be too bothered by it, given how vulnerable it makes him.

  “Tell Adrian to take any opportunity he finds to make the boy one of his victims, although he needn’t adjust his timetable to do it. I want him to continue my campaign to bring Alex’s new adopted city to its knees. I assume that he’s causing havoc already?”

  “Yes, sir. As always, it’s easy to send the humans into mindless panic. They’re calling him the vampire killer. Some who aspire to be like him are even making his latest dumping ground something of a shrine.”

  Dracul chuckled. “It has ever been so. They do not understand us, but they recognize our superiority.” He grabbed Dafydd’s chin with a brutal grip. “Some envy us, as they should, and all fear us—again, as they should.”

  He pressed hard enough to make his dear little pet cry out. “A very foolish few think they can outsmart and defeat us.”

  He tsked and briefly considered crushing the jawbone in his grasp. But no, he had uses for the boy’s mouth, and humans took too long to recover or were too easily killed. Maybe someday, once he had an army of sons behind him, he would allow himself the pleasure of taking this upstart human apart one bit at a time before draining him dry.

  “You have your orders,” he reminded Petru without taking his eyes off Dafydd. “Now go.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He dismissed the man from his thoughts and concentrated instead on the task at hand. “Where shall I start? Hmm?”

  Leaning in, he inhaled deeply, the scent of fear and blood making him hard. “You won’t leave this bed until
you are breeding. Even then, I won’t let you leave this room ever again. And don’t think you’ll have a chance to cheat me out of my sons by hurting yourself. I won’t allow that. If I have to keep you tied up, I will make sure you deliver every brat I get in you.”

  He could see from the expression that flashed across the human’s face that he’d been thinking along those lines.

  Dracul shook his head. “Oh, no, my dear. You will not escape me or my plans so easily.” He pressed his lips against the pulsing beat at the base of the boy’s throat. “Someday, I’ll reward all your suffering by ending it—permanently.”

  With that promise made, he sank his fangs deep into the salty flesh. The scream washed over him, making him smile around the bite. He closed his eyes and drank—and drank and drank.

  * * * *

  Boston

  The opening strains of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony had Quinn jerking awake. He would have slid to his knees if Alex hadn’t kept him in place with his hand pressed against Quinn’s naked ass. The man was equally nude, his magnificent and pale body visible in the muted light of the bedroom.

  “What’s wrong, Kitty?” Alex barked into his phone.

  At the same time, he lowered his hand to cup Quinn’s ass and slid one of his long fingers down the crack to tease the puckered ring. It softened under the gentle assault, ready for more penetration. It didn’t seem to matter that it was also a bit sore from the energetic fucking throughout the night. Quinn’s dick started to fill. But for it being mashed against the mattress, it would have fully hardened. God. He’d never expected to be this responsive to another man’s touch.

  Alex’s grimaced as he listened to whatever the bartender was saying. “Tell them we’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Damn, so much for morning sex.

  Alex stilled his fingers. “Then they’ll have to continue to be impatient. I don’t care if they are the FBI, the CIA or the entire Joint Chiefs of Staff. They have invaded my home at the ungodly hour of—whatever the fuck time it is. They can damn well wait.”

  He ended the call with a flick of his thumb. “I liked the way telephones used to be. You could slam the receiver to make a point.” He tossed his phone on the nightstand. “These tiny computers just aren’t the same.”

  Before Quinn could ask him what was going on, Alex rolled him over, leaned in and planted an enthusiastic kiss on his lips. The man smelled and tasted wonderfully spicy. Quinn doubted very much he was anywhere near as palatable.

  Alex pushed the hair away from Quinn’s face. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to take a very quick and sex-free shower.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Alex grimaced. “The FBI is downstairs. They want to interview us about the Crowell murder.” He left the bed with the grace of a cat and held out his hand.

  Taking it, Quinn said, “I don’t understand. The cops already asked us a bunch of questions.”

  “Yes, well, it seems the murder is now being treated as a serial killer case, so the feds have been brought in.”

  Quinn followed him into the huge marble bathroom. It was like bathing in the Taj Mahal. “Duncan’s off the case?”

  Alex went to start the dual shower heads. “It appears so.” He turned to smile reassuringly at him. “Don’t worry. This is a nuisance, nothing more. I’m sure Emil will have a wonderful breakfast waiting for us.”

  Quinn returned the look, pretending he wasn’t worried. The truth was that this whole thing freaked him out. With Alex by his side, though, he knew he was safe, just like the man had said when he’d drifted off to sleep.

  He washed in perfunctory fashion, although Alex’s scrubbing his back was a nice touch, despite the situation. Hair still wet and wearing his clothes from the previous night, he went to the first floor with Alex. The man had only bothered to slip on black silk pajama bottoms and nothing more, as if he were entertaining people at an orgy. He’d twisted his own wet hair into a messy man-bun.

  He appeared frighteningly sexy, totally unconcerned and rather lethal, given his ginormous proportions and thickly layered muscles, like a gorgeous Frankenstein’s monster. Studying the man, Quinn had no trouble imagining how easily he could overpower another with only his bare hands. He worried a bit that the FBI would see the same thing, and unlike the local cops, keep pushing and prodding to find a reason to put the killings on Alex.

  When Alex took Quinn’s hand in his, however, the press of his cool flesh settled Quinn’s nerves. Even if the man was some kind of monster, at least he seemed to be his. With Alex standing guard, no one would ever get near him, and knowing he had that kind of support allayed much of his fear. Even while living with his family, he’d never felt quite safe, probably because he’d always known that his true self wouldn’t be welcome there.

  They took the elevator to the ground floor of the club where the police interrogation over Crowell’s murder was being replayed. This time, the two people waiting to question him were harder-edged than the Boston cops. That was the first thing he noticed because of the tableau they set.

  Duncan leaned against the bar, nursing a cup of coffee while his partner sat farther down, shoveling in breakfast with intense concentration. Both of the men looked almost at home. The FBI agents, in contrast, sat at the same table as the previous interviews with nothing in front of them other than portfolios. They didn’t even have glasses of water, as if accepting any hospitality would compromise their integrity or something.

  Kitty ignored everyone, polishing her bar top at the far end with a vicious amount of energy. Val stood near her, clad in his usual T-shirt and jeans, arms crossed. He was still as a statue and gave off an Angel of Death vibe that should have made all these outsiders quake in their shoes.

  Alex squeezed Quinn’s hand as they stepped off the elevator and that simple gesture reassured him once more that he was not alone. Even though he’d known this man for less than a week, he trusted him completely. Maybe it was naïve of him, or it could have been the sex clouding his mind and judgment, but the feeling was there and strong. Being Alex Stelalux’s ‘boy’ gave him new-found confidence and courage, too. He felt as if he could handle anything. Squaring his shoulders, he headed toward the table, staying by Alex’s side.

  Alex nodded his head in the direction of the cops as he and Quinn passed the bar. “Gentlemen. Delighted to see you again.”

  Duncan quirked his lips and took another slug of coffee. Anderson just waved his fork before plowing back into his food. The feds slid out from the booth and held up their badges. The obvious leader was a middle-aged Asian woman. She didn’t crack a smile as they approached, nor did her partner, a fresh-faced young man with a brush cut and ‘ex-military’ written all over him. Normally, they would have intimidated the hell out of Quinn, but knowing they were going up against Alex, he almost felt sorry for them.

  “Mr. Stelalux, I’m special agent Cynthia Chin. This is Agent Jacob Kaplan. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  Alex gave the woman the type of smile that would either cause one to melt or freeze, depending on whether Alex was out to seduce or terrorize. Quinn recognized this as being the latter. Alex was not hiding his displeasure. Did the feds catch the vibe? The woman’s expression hardened, so that would be a yes. To her credit, she wasn’t showing any signs of being cowed.

  Stopping a couple of feet away, Alex dismissed the show of badges with a lazy wave of his free hand. “So I’ve been told. Please forgive my dishabille. We were asleep when you arrived.” Quinn’s heart did a slow roll at the casual mention of ‘we’ and its obvious implication.

  Chin stuck her ID back into her pocket. “I’m sorry. I guess club people keep different hours, but we’re racing against the clock. There’s a vicious serial killer out there and we’re trying to catch him before he strikes again. I’m sure you can understand the urgency.”

  “Of course.” Alex gestured toward the booth. “Shall we?”

  “Yes, but I’d like to question Mr. Cooper first.
” She pinned Quinn with an assessing look.

  He instinctively moved closer to Alex, who let go of his hand in order to circle his waist and bring him flush against his side.

  “I understand.” Alex’s tone had turned icy. “He needs to eat.”

  Chin did a poor job of hiding her impatience. “This won’t take long, and I don’t want a crowd in here during questioning. We really should be speaking to each of you separately.”

  “No. We stay together, and he needs to eat.” He pressed his fingers into Quinn’s side when he started to open his mouth to reassure him that he wasn’t going to pass out from lack of food any time soon. He understood the unspoken message and kept quiet.

  Now, Chin did let her irritation show. “Mr. Stelalux…”

  “On second thought, perhaps I should call my lawyer before we start answering your questions voluntarily? Given that we’ve already provided Duncan and Anderson a full account of the incident with Crowell and our whereabouts during both of these unfortunate murders, I can’t help but wonder if your renewed interest in us demands a more robust defense.”

  Oh, wow. The woman clearly didn’t like how Alex had just raised the tension level closer to Defcon One. They stood for a few seconds, staring at each other. Quinn could have told the woman she was waging an unwinnable war. He knew Alex that well by now. The man could not be intimidated, and he protected what was his. That included him.

  “How about I go get Quinn something to eat from Emil?” This from Duncan, and that simple offer ended the contest of wills.

  “Thank you, Sergeant Duncan.” Alex turned his head to nod at the man. “I appreciate it.”

  Without further discussion, Alex led Quinn over to the booth. He slid in first and gently tugged Quinn after him without ever breaking contact. They sat hip-to-hip with Alex’s arm draped over Quinn’s shoulders. He felt snug, and it would have been wonderful but for the two stern-faced people sitting opposite them. Military boy took notes while his boss made a show of searching through her files.