Standing, he stretched once more and sauntered to the far side of Jase. He plopped his ass on the fine sand and ran some through his fingers. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Jase’s face was wide-open and completely guileless.
“Did you enjoy the day?”
“Absolutely. I haven’t had many chances to hang out on the beach. It was fun. Plus, my being entertained and occupied eases Emil’s mind. It’s a win-win.”
“Yeah, I can see that. He’s sweet, your mun.”
“He sure is. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”
Brenin clawed at the sand, working up the courage to say what was truly on his mind. “I bet this time last year you didn’t have any hope of a life like this.” He felt bad being so blunt, yet he was too desperate to help himself to muster much tact. “I know I didn’t.”
Jase relaxed position didn’t change. He simply stared out at the ocean. “True. You reach a point where you accept that it’s your life and you’re stuck with it, that nothing will change for the better. Emil showed me differently.”
“Malcolm did the same…except how do you get past it, or over it—or whatever?”
Jase swiveled his head in Brenin’s direction and furrowed his brow. “You don’t. It’s crazy to even try. What you do is find ways to deal with it. You can’t change what happened or the way it impacted you. All you can do is control how it affects you now, and to not allow it to ruin your life. You cope,” he added with a firm nod.
Brenin pulled up his legs and rested his chin on his knees. “Okay, I get that. What do you do to cope, then?”
Jase sighed. “Emil. It’s him, plain and simple. I’ve put my trust in him. He’s like a balm to my soul. I know he’ll never hurt me. And when I have my bad moments or days—and I do—he’s there to help me through them.”
“I believe that about Malcolm, too, and I know he’ll do whatever I need him to in order to help, but somehow it’s not enough.”
Jase twisted around to face him. “In what way?”
“I don’t know. Well, yes, I do.” He proceeded to explain his recent interactions with his man and the anxiety he was feeling. “I’ve decided to accept Doc MacPhee’s offer for a prescription.”
“Nothing wrong with meds, when prescribed and used correctly. I’ve considered it myself and might do it at some point.”
“I don’t think that’s the only or final answer, though.”
“You’re probably right. For what it’s worth, Emil and I took a page out of the BDSM playbook. The real one, not the fake stuff the men who possessed me used. It works like this. If Emil is doing something that makes me a little anxious, I say ‘yellow’. That’s his cue to slow down. If I’m getting really freaked out, I say ‘red’. He stops whatever he’s doing instantly.”
“And that works?” Brenin was skeptical.
“Yup. It’s quick, easy and effective. There’s no room for misunderstandings or hard feelings, either. You should try it.”
He gave the idea about a second’s worth of thought. “I think I might.” Anything that could possibly help deserved exploration. He loved Malcolm and wanted to help preserve and grow their relationship. Not communicating effectively wasn’t going to accomplish that.
“You should give progressive relaxation a go, too.” This came from Dafydd. When Brenin and Jase looked over at him, he explained the process further. “Ric taught it to me last night. It worked. No one was more surprised than I was,” he added with a one-shoulder shrug.
“Huh.” Brenin sent his gaze across the sea. He suddenly couldn’t wait to see his man again or for night to fall, so that he could put his newfound knowledge to the test.
* * * *
“You did fine work this afternoon, Doc.”
Ric turned from where he’d been staring at the harbor through one of the long windows that flanked the saloon. Malcolm stood next to him, his imposing figure not intimidating the way it had been.
“Thanks. It was exciting, to be honest, and not nearly as frightening as what we did in Wales.”
“Aye, we got lucky. Whoever Scotty Moran’s contact is within Dracul’s circle, he obviously doesn’t feel the need to keep the old man happy. Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Nor I. He is an interesting guy, though. He’s lived a colorful life, and I’m not certain he truly understands what he got himself into.”
“Hard to say. He must know he’s involved in something illegal and otherworldly. As to whether he’s kenned to his friend’s true evil nature and despicable plans?” He grunted. “Well, that’s another matter, not that it impacts our next step.”
“Which is what, exactly? Not that you need to keep me in the loop,” he added, suddenly hearing how his question might sound impertinent.
Malcolm held up his hand. “You never have to worry about your place here, Doc. You made yourself our ally, and that means you’re one of us, in our culture. Plus, you’ve put your life on the line more than once. Going to that house counts because there was always the possibility of it going pear-shaped. Never hesitate to ask questions, and I can promise that with few exceptions, if any, we’ll always answer them.”
Ric was slightly taken aback—not by the words but by the almost-vehemence with which Malcolm had said them. It had sounded more like a solemn vow than a mere point of information.
“Th-thank you. I appreciate that. I guess I came into this thinking I was conducting an experiment. Now, it’s become…personal.” Thoughts of Dafydd crowded his mind. Very personal.
Malcolm tugged at one ear. “I ken well what you mean. Something’s—someone’s—hit you right between the eyes and there’s nowt you can do about it. You take your best shot and hang on for the ride.”
Ric leaned back with his elbows on the sill. “It’s hard, though, isn’t it? What I want and what’s good for him won’t necessarily jibe, no matter hard I wish it to be true.”
“Aye, I ken that, as well. But in answer to your question, we’re going to do a wee bit of recon with the full expectation that we’ll find at least one of our enemies holed up in those caves.”
Ric straightened. “You’ll have to approach by the sea, as Val mentioned earlier. The path leading down to the beach won’t get you close enough. I’ve seen for myself that the bar of sand ends with huge boulders built right into the cliffside. I don’t think you can even see the cave opening from land.”
“Aye, you’ve got the right of it.”
“You’ll be sitting ducks. Anyone inside could shoot you before you get anywhere near the mouth.”
“True, if we were boating all the way in, which we’re not. We’ll get in position sufficiently far out to sea that we can’t be easily seen from land. Then, we’re going to swim to the shore underwater. Silent and invisible, we hope to take them by surprise.”
As he ran his hand down his face, Ric shook his head. “I don’t envy you, and I’ll be of no help, I’m afraid. I can snorkel, but I can’t scuba dive. The Atlantic is freezing, besides, summer be damned.”
“We wouldn’t ask that of you, anyway. The cold won’t bother us. It’s heat that does. Summers in this part of the world suck. We can also hold our breaths for a very long time compared to a human. Plus, a firefight in close quarters is too risky for anyone other than us. Alex, Val, Emil and I will go. Harry will stay with the tender offshore, while Duncan will stand guard back here, just in case. It helps knowing you’re here, as well. Our lads are fierce for sure, but we’ll fare better at our task if we know they’re safely guarded.”
Ric raised his eyebrows. “I fear you’re showering me with more confidence than I deserve.”
Malcolm shook his head. “No, I’m not.” He studied his feet for a moment. “In fact, I came over here to ask you something personal, if you dinnae mind.”
“Of course not.”
“See, the lads were gabbing in the beach about”—he blew out a breath—“ways to cope with their experiences. And Dafydd mentioned you’d taught him some technique for relax
ing at night. Brenin relayed it to me, and I was wondering if you could walk me through it. I want to help my dear, wee lad anyway possible. It fairly breaks my heart how he suffers from what Dracul did to him.”
“It’s called progressive relaxation. It’s easy, although it takes practice.” He walked Malcolm through the process, the big Scotsman staring at him with a look of concentration, as if he were hanging on to every word and committing them to memory—which, of course, he was.
“That’s all there is to it, really,” Ric said with a shrug. “Everything is worth a try, including drugs that are prescribed and closely monitored.”
“Aye, Doc MacPhee can help there. Brenin is open to the idea.”
“Good.” Ric thought of the bottle tucked in his pocket and how he’d guiltily hid it while he’d been out on his recon mission. “Be careful, though. They can be abused.”
“Aye, I’m aware. Brenin is a sensible lad, but the demons that plague him are powerful and they pop up at unexpected times.”
“And mixing them with alcohol is a bad idea with lots of these kinds of meds.”
“I understand.”
“Hey, what are you two doing squirreled away over here?” Brenin came up and wrapped his arms around Malcolm’s waist. “The dishes are done and we’re going to have a dance party.” He grinned at Ric. “Where’s Dafydd? Surely he hasn’t gone to bed already.”
“No, but he is putting Idris down. I’m pretty sure he’s coming back with a baby monitor in tow.”
The words had no sooner left his mouth when Dafydd appeared at the saloon’s entrance. Ric did a double take when he realized that the boy had changed from his jeans into—sleep pants? Yup, Ric’s, with the bottoms rolled up so that they didn’t drag. The sight of Dafydd wearing something of his caused a funny feeling low in his belly. And the guy knew exactly what he was doing. He looked at Ric from across the room with a ‘what?’ expression before going to curl up on one of the sofas. He put the monitor on a nearby table and sat back to watch the others start to dance.
“That’s a new look for Dafydd, I think,” Brenin commented slyly. “Come on, Malcolm. Let’s get our groove on, as Mackie would say.”
“Och, now you ken I’m not one for dancing. I’d rather watch you.”
Ric lost track of them, his attention taken completely by the fetching sight of Dafydd. Music filled the room, the kind of thing they played at the club. Normally Ric loved to dance himself. With Dafydd to watch and study, he felt entertained sufficiently, however. There was nothing overtly coy about the guy, other than his unexpected decision to borrow Ric’s pajama bottoms. As Dafydd sat, he tucked his bare feet under his small bottom and tapped his fingers on his thighs to the beat of the song. Every so often, he would glance in Ric’s direction, although it was hard to tell if there was an invitation being issued.
“Fuck it.” Ric decided to assume there was. He crossed the room and sat beside him without asking. “Did Idris go down all right?” He could have smacked himself. Talking about the baby hardly was conducive to forging a romantic evening.
“Yes, he did. A day on the beach tired him something fierce, even though he got a nap earlier.” He flicked his gaze in Ric’s direction. “I take it your venture went well?”
“Yes, it did. There was only the old man there, and I was able to confirm that he is both a recruit of one of Dracul’s men and that he’s been visited recently by the guy. Alex and the others are pretty convinced the 3-D printed guns are being smuggled in by way of Putnam’s Cove.” He shrugged. “The evidence is circumstantial, but even if it’s not those guns, someone’s doing something here and they intend to stop it.”
Dafydd eyes narrowed. “With your help? I saw you gabbing with Malcolm just now.”
Touched that Dafydd continued to be worried about him, Ric nevertheless wanted to reassure him on that point. “No, my part is done. I promise that my spying days are over.”
Dafydd appeared mollified by that. “Fine, then. Not that it’s any of my business what you do.”
“Oh, Dafydd, it is, you know?” Ric dared to lay his hand gently on Dafydd’s thigh. “I think I’ve done a poor job of hiding how I feel, and it matters to me what you do. I don’t want you to be worried about me, for your sake. For my own, it makes me rather happy. I hope you don’t mind my saying so.”
By way of answer, Dafydd merely shrugged and kept his attention on the other boys bopping around the room. “They all do a good job at having fun, don’t they?”
“Yes. The music, the movement, it’s good therapy. Why don’t you try?”
Dafydd shook his head. “No. There wasn’t much of it when I was a lad, and it was a girl thing mostly anyway. There’s been no chance since then, needless to say.”
“There is now,” Ric prodded gently.
“No. I…no.” Dafydd stood abruptly and, snatching the monitor, raced to the door.
Ric was up like a shot, following him. He hadn’t gone far. Ric almost ran into him leaning against the wall outside the saloon, staring past the stern at the ocean. The music was still audible, although at a more muted level. Youngblood started playing and Ric couldn’t help moving his body to it.
“This is a great song,” he said in Dafydd’s direction. He swayed to the rhythm as if he were dancing in a club. He didn’t have a specific agenda. It was nice to cut loose for a few minutes and enjoy himself. If it inspired Dafydd to do the same, that would be a bonus.
He sang along with the chorus, too, not really heeding the words or their meaning. Suddenly, Dafydd was flying toward him, colliding with enough force that Ric staggered back and had to grab on to Dafydd’s waist to keep them both from falling.
“Is that how you feel and is that what you think?” Dafydd demanded in a voice laced with tears.
“What? No, it’s only a song. I like the melody, that’s all.”
“Is it? You don’t think I keep pushing you away? Do you think I should welcome you with open arms and…what? Cast aside how my life’s been like for nearly four hundred fucking years!”
Alarmed, Ric cupped Dafydd’s face with his hands. “Shh, baby, it’s okay. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not rebuking you and don’t expect anything. I know you’re not ready to trust anyone to love you, let alone a man. You may never be. It makes me unbearably sad, but I understand it. Christ, I don’t even know if you’re gay.”
The realization hit him like a two-by-four right between his eyes. He’d been acting as if Dafydd’s trauma might be all that stood between them. And he’d been so inured to seeing the aliens with their voluntary male partners that he’d lost sight of the fact that Dafydd had been conscripted to that way of life. There was nothing to say that had he been given a choice, even by medieval standards, he would have wanted to pair up with other men.
I’m such a fucking idiot! An abject apology was on the tip of his tongue when Dafydd’s response shut it down.
Dafydd closed his eyes. Tears leaked out, which would have been alarming if not for his next words. “I am, you know. That. It was forbidden in my time, then Dracul punished me for my sin in ways no priest had ever thought of.”
“It’s not a sin,” Ric was quick to reassure him, pathetically grateful for the boy’s confession. “I was raised to believe that, as well. I know it to be a lie now. I’m proud of who I am. That town behind us is full of people who feel the same way. I hope that one day, you will too.”
Dafydd opened his eyes, which were shining wet. “Maybe I will, but that’s as far as it may ever go. To act on it, to let a man touch me like that?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be broken, but I think I am. I can never be fixed.”
“Don’t say that!” Ric had to swallow back his rage. “No matter what, you aren’t to think less of yourself. Dafydd, you’re beautiful and courageous and brave. You’re also smart, smarter than that fucker Dracul ever was. I admire how strong you stayed after all those brutal years. You should be proud of yourself, Dafydd. Can’t you see the amazing man tha
t I do?”
“No.”
“Yes.” And that was when Ric lost control. The next thing he knew, he was kissing Dafydd, not aggressively, merely a soft coupling of their lips.
Dafydd’s were sweet and silky. Ric savored every taste. He slanted his mouth to cover every inch and used the light hold he had on the boy’s face to guide his movements. Even in his insatiable state, he made sure to make Dafydd feel cherished, not dominated. He could break Ric’s hold and the kiss at any time. Ric was careful, as well, not to allow his hard dick to get anywhere near Dafydd. He leaned into the kiss from the waist up and kept his lower half angled away. While he reveled in the joy of it all, a voice screamed inside his head, Don’t freak him out!
Every second the kiss lasted, Ric expected Dafydd to pull away. Yet, he didn’t. Instead, he remained placid in the face of Ric’s gentle assault, a faint quiver vibrating his lips. He didn’t simply accept the touch, either, though. No, he melted into the kiss with a tentative, yet undeniable, interest. In the end, it was Ric who pulled away, determined not to be greedy. A little discipline and self-denial now would hopefully lead to a better future, one in which he could kiss Dafydd every day and more besides.
With a flutter of his lashes, Dafydd opened his eyes. Ric peered into them, looking for signs of distress. He found none, only slightly dilated pupils and a bit of wonder.
“No one has ever done that to me before. Kissed me, I mean.”
“Oh, Dafydd.” Ric pressed another one against the boy’s forehead. “You break my heart.”
“I didn’t tell you in order for you to feel sorry for me.” There was bitterness in those words.
Healing Dance Page 13
