Smoke Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  “He’s not married, is he?”

  “No. Cathy said something about how he’d once been engaged with this girl who died tragically. I guess he’s still not over her. Besides, the campaign schedule is going to be grueling. There won’t much time for dating. I’m sure he’ll find someone nice to settle down with once Jeremiah is President.”

  “You think that’s really going to happen?”

  Elliot’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes. He’s God’s chosen one. I’m sure of it.”

  Holy fuck. Damien hoped Elliot was wrong about that.

  * * * *

  Val looked over from where he was scarfing eggs scrambled by Emil and called out to Will. “Hey, you just getting in?”

  Will stopped with one foot on the first step leading to the second floor. “Yeah, I’m going to escort Annika to breakfast then go back out there.”

  Val shook his head as he speared more eggs. “I’d thought my nightly travels were crazy. You can’t keep this up, brother.”

  “Amen to that,” Emil muttered, flipping a pancake in its pan.

  Will looked annoyed. “If Alex will agree to let Damien leave that place, I won’t have to.”

  Val shrugged. He was as frustrated as everyone that nothing useful had been discovered so far. “Not my call, but I feel you. This sitting around and waiting isn’t in my nature.” He held up his hand before Emil could say anything. “And yet, I’m being a good boy. My lesson has been learned.”

  Emil nodded once. “You’re a fucking lucky one, too, that the whole thing seems to have blown over.”

  Yeah, early days and all that, but nothing had popped on the cover-up by Duncan and Paz in the last couple of days. He really needed to do something to show his appreciation. He’d ask Mackie for his advice, because he was now fully in the loop on the matter. Val had confessed all to his husband and hadn’t that been a fun conversation? His bratty sub knew how to excoriate him with looks alone, and he hadn’t confined himself to those. Words had been spoken. Lots of words. The very thought of it had Val wincing and his balls shrinking.

  At least he left me with my sperm-makers intact. Between the unexpected pregnancy and his brief foray into the land of insanity, that had been a close call.

  He lifted his mug and drained it. “How about after breakfast we spar like you offered? I need about an hour then I’ll be free. I’m eating here because the smell of eggs doesn’t sit well with Mackie’s stomach. I’m going to feed him soon then give him some plain pancakes. He and Annika can do their usual thing while we pound each other into the ground.”

  Will started climbing. “Fine. I can spare about an hour before going back. That fucking place is wearing on the boy. I’m not sure how much more he can take.”

  Emil waited until Will was out of sight before saying, “Do you think he realizes that he’s fallen in love with my sous chef?”

  “Probably not.” Val put his empty plate and mug in the sink. “The bigger question is, how will Damien react to Will’s true nature? That’s always the tricky part—or at least it’s where I got stuck in my own life. It’s hard to say how a particular human will take it. You know Damien best. What do you think?”

  Emil handed him a plate with two pancakes on it. “Damien is a survivor with bigger balls than most of the men swaggering around the club, professing to be Doms. He’ll handle it.”

  “Assuming he feels the same way about Will. Otherwise, the entire subject is moot.”

  Emil grabbed his own coffee and sucked some down. “Oh, he does. Count on that. He was really wild at first, always looking for a party, burning his candles at both ends. Since Will arrived, Damien has seemed more…settled, I guess. I wonder if he will eventually give us another queen.”

  Val pondered that possibility. It had occurred to him, as well. “A better question is what’s going to happen to this planet if more queens are born? I’m not sure how this all shakes out with only Annika in the mix, but we both know that one Queen can birth a lot of young. Add more, and how long would it take for our kind to overrun humans?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question or are you asking me to do the math, because I never once imagined that it might happen before learning about Annika. Frankly I don’t think I have the guts to consider even now how our kind might populate this planet, do you?”

  “Val shrugged. “Stream of consciousness for now. I’m not sure I want to run the numbers, either. Not yet. Oddly, I’m not really worried about it. Maybe I’m too focused on dealing with Bran, then Dracul, whose resurrection feels more likely with each passing day, for some reason.”

  “And all of it’s easier than worrying about Mackie,” Emil said in his quiet, yet reassuring way.

  Val closed his eyes briefly. “Yeah, that.”

  Without saying more, he headed upstairs and was relieved to find his husband still in bed. Most mornings, he couldn’t get back fast enough and found Mackie in the bathroom. Right now, the boy was beginning to stir, his eyelids fluttering. Val was already scoring his wrist as he raced to the bed. He slammed the plate onto the nightstand and knelt as he offered his blood. As usual, Mackie latched on with single-minded purpose.

  The sensation of his blood being pulled through his veins calmed him as much as it settled Mackie’s touchy stomach. It also aroused Val, his cock turning to steel within seconds. He was careful to keep it pressed against the side of the bed. The last thing his poor husband needed was a stiff dick in his face. Sex was off the table for the foreseeable future and, given how it was responsible for this entire shitty mess, he couldn’t be upset about it.

  No, it wasn’t the sex’s fault. It was an activity, not a living thing that had reached out to invade Mackie’s body with Val’s child. It was Val’s greedy need for it that had caused all this trouble. After swearing off human men as long-term partners for centuries, he’d allowed his insatiable desire for Mackie to override his better judgment, and this was the result. It didn’t matter that Earth had entered its twenty-first century, that Mackie wasn’t Robbie and that Harry had what amounted to a hospital-level medical suite on the upper floor.

  Val couldn’t shake the almost paralyzing fear that everything was going to shit. He would lose Mackie the way he had Robbie, and he’d be cremating another lover and child. With an un-warrior-like sob, he bowed his head over his boy.

  “I can’t lose you. How would I ever survive?” He didn’t even care how pathetic he sounded. His fear was that great. It overwhelmed other thoughts and emotions, such as pride and his urge to protect his husband from all bad things, including his insecurity.

  Mackie landed his small hand on Val’s head. At the same time, he broke the seal of his lips against Val’s wrist. Val licked his skin closed without looking at him. The touch was light, soothing. It made Val feel like a small drone again in his mother’s care. It was completely unmanning and yet, he made no move to stop it.

  “I won’t die, Val. I’d never do that to you.”

  Val could only shake his head. This was beyond both their controls.

  “I won’t,” his feisty sub insisted. “And I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you are confiding your fears. This shutting me out while you went looking for trouble was making me crazy. I thought…” There was a hitch to his voice that broke Val’s heart.

  He forced himself to move then. His boy needed him, too. Time to man-up. In a blink of an eye, he was on the bed with Mackie cradled in his arms. “I’m sorry, baby. So very sorry. You have enough to deal with. You don’t need to worry about the shit jamming my head.”

  “It’s part of being married, you big dope.” Mackie sniffled. “Not knowing what you’re thinking or feeling or doing hurts me. It’s worse than this puking marathon. You’ll have to trust me on that score.”

  It was hard to accept, but he had to—as his husband had said—trust him to know his own mind and the limits of what he could handle. “I will. Promise,” he added when he got the side-eye.

  “Good. Hand me a pancake.”
<
br />   Val complied and watched with relief and satisfaction as the boy consumed the bland food. He couldn’t resist placing small kisses in the top of his pretty red head. “Don’t you dare die on me.” It was a stupid thing to say, yet he couldn’t keep the words from coming out.

  Mackie, bless him, simply giggled. “I promise.” He finished his pancake and wisely lay against Val’s chest to see if it would stay down. “This doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you over the stupid stunt you pulled, going vigilante to clean up the streets of Boston.”

  “I know, but I am done with it. And if it makes you feel any better, I have a date with Will in a short while in the gym. He’s going to try to pound some sense into me.”

  “Good, tell him to give you a good kick from me.”

  Val laughed, enjoying the moment of carefreeness. “I will.” He sobered. “I love you.” He didn’t say that nearly often enough.

  “I know.” Mackie snuggled closer, his complete trust in him all the reassurance Val needed.

  * * * *

  Will stood naked in the middle of the sparring room, stretching his muscles and waiting for Val. He’d kept his breakfast light, not into mimicking Mackie’s wonderful world of technicolor. Annika had noticed and had merely shrugged when he’d told her his plans with Val. She was already a wise Queen, not interfering in her men’s lives any more than was necessary. She appeared happy, too, even with his long absences. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was an abrupt change from their lives to date. He supposed it was merely another sign that she was maturing rapidly.

  Val didn’t keep him waiting for long. He entered, stripping off his own clothing with the kind of speed they could only employ when pesky and uninformed humans weren’t around. Although they hadn’t discussed it, they’d had the same idea—to fight in the traditional way. The human need to battle while dressed had amused them at first. It made sense, of course, when weapons were employed. Hand-to-hand demanded something more personal. Will’s palms itched with the desire to get hold of Val’s flesh.

  “I promised Mackie I’d give you the chance to take a good shot on his behalf.” Val cracked his neck as he advanced on Will.

  “My pleasure, I’m sure. I trust he’s doing well this morning.”

  “Yes.” The relief in Val’s eyes was obvious. “He’s currently playing with Idris, along with Annika and Merlin in the living room. Her control over that particular hybrid is a relief,” he added. “Mackie may have turned a corner on this morning sickness thing. At least I hope so. Harry said it can happen that quickly but not to be surprised if it changes again.”

  “Any break is welcome, I’m sure.”

  Will didn’t give any warning. Small talk and reassuring male bonding time was over. He struck with what he knew was a ‘gimme’ by Val, his foot hitting Val square in the chest. The man went flying right into the padded wall. The room shook ominously. Will had only a split second to consider that before Val used his momentum to launch back and plow into Will’s mid-section. They both went down with dual grunts, then popped up again.

  They locked onto each other’s shoulders, digging their feet into the equally padded flooring, each trying to push the other. Neither gained much purchase, being more evenly matched than Will would have thought. Truthfully, he’d assumed Val would outmuscle him. Perhaps he was only toying with him. That thought had barely formed before he found himself flipping over Val’s head to land hard on his back. The mat may as well been missing, given the jarring his body took.

  He rolled onto his side and pushed to his feet, even as he struggled to regain his breath. “Fuck, that hurt.”

  Val bared his teeth. “It wouldn’t be much fun if it didn’t. I’m getting serious now, dude.”

  Will wheezed. “That’s what I was afraid of.” Except he wasn’t as bad off as he was acting. It allowed him to get another shot in. He went low this time, flipping Val, tit for tat.

  Val bounced, skidded, then came roaring back for more…and more. They both did. There wasn’t a spot of flooring or wall that one or both of them didn’t hit with some part of their body. Will’s muscles ached and his ears rang. He never once thought of throwing in the towel. It had been ages since he’d been able to truly let loose. Their limbs became blurs of movement, even to their superior vision. Will’s focus narrowed to taking his next breath and beating Val’s out of him. Their cocks were hard and dripping, clashing like clubs, giving a spike of pleasure along with the pain.

  In the end, though, the outcome had never truly been in doubt. Val outweighed him and had more experience with combat. He brought Will to the mat one final time. No amount of wishing allowed Will to throw the guy off. He tapped out the only way their kind knew—by exposing his neck, offering Val a clear path to his jugular.

  The strike came fast and hard, causing Will to climax. They both did. That was normal, too. This kind of fighting always ended thusly. Val, though, took only a few pulls before retracting his fangs and licking the punctures closed. Then they lay side-by-side, panting in sync, regaining strength.

  Will almost fell asleep. No surprise… He’d barely slept in the last several days. Between watching over Damien and keeping an eye on Annika, he was being pulled in two different directions, day and night.

  “Jesus, I needed that,” he finally said.

  “I as well,” Val agreed. “You are a more formidable opponent that I expected.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “No offense. As a pilot, you are unequaled. This is different.”

  “Agreed. I guess I’m channeling my abject terror at how Damien is in Bran’s lair. Well, the asshat’s. I’m not sure what worries me more, the damage Bran can do or the type Warren can. It’s not a good place for the boy, regardless.”

  “I hear you on that, but let me give you the benefit of my recent experience. These human boys bring out our protective instincts, yet they are both courageous and mini-warriors. They can handle themselves in surprising ways.”

  “I know that. I’ve seen it myself. Except it was fine when it was your boys, not mine. It’s different now.”

  Val chuckled. “Of course it is. I also get how hard it must be for you to open yourself up again after losing someone.”

  Will closed his eyes at the stab of pain. “I didn’t think I could ever love again. I was determined not to get involved with another human. They are so very fragile.” He winced. “Sorry… You don’t need that reminder.”

  “No, it’s okay. I, um, had a good talk with Mackie. I, ah, need to learn to lean on him more. He was reassuring. Does Damien know how you feel?”

  Will snorted. “I’m not sure I know what I feel.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “I love him. How the hell did that happen?”

  “It sneaks up on you. Don’t be stupid like me. Tell him and trust him to take you as you are.”

  Will shook his head. “What if he recoils in horror? It happens. No matter how close we get to them, some humans can’t handle the truth.”

  “I’m betting Damien isn’t one of them.” A second later, Val sprang to his feet and offered Will his hand.

  Will accepted the help and stood with a groan. “I need a shower. Nothing has to be decided now, anyway. Keeping him safe is my priority. I’ll worry about the future once Bran has been neutralized.”

  He raced out of the room, his respite from the fight already a distant memory.

  Chapter Eight

  Damien wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit through the inspiring, yet completely insipid movie playing in the rec room. He really didn’t want to be there. Not that it was compulsory or anything… It was purely his own idea to attend instead of reading in his room or something. Not that the selection of books in this place was much better than the approved movies. Even TV shows were forbidden, given how much they were under the influence of the ‘gay agenda’.

  The problem was, Damien didn’t want to see Elliot in their room. He wanted to catch h
im right after his therapy session with Warren. Something wasn’t right. The boy put on a good front, yet with each passing day, he appeared more withdrawn, troubled. Damien was worried about the kid, as annoyingly self-righteous as he could be. And Damien sensed there was something there that was important to ferret out. His stay hadn’t otherwise yielded any useful information. He was beginning to think he needed to take risks, to stick his nose into private places, to do that very thing he’d promised Will he wouldn’t.

  With one eye on the sun-shining rays of hope as some footballer found Jesus, and the other on the hall leading to Warren’s office, he waited for his roomie to reappear. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He swung his gaze around to find the source of his sudden unease and landed on Bran. The guy was lounging in the dark corner by the doors that led to the patio. His glasses were off for a change. It was dark in the room for the purpose of watching the movie. It was impossible to tell, nevertheless, who or what the guy was looking at. Somehow, Damien felt sure it was him.

  He made himself look away and ended up eyeballing some pimple-faced kid instead who was staring at him. At his arm, really.

  “Why do you have the mark of the devil on you?” the boy demanded.

  Damien glanced at his newest ink, the one that Annika had labeled ‘pretty’. “Dude, it’s a dragon. Red, yes. Tail, check. But no cloven feet, only claws. Plus, I don’t think the devil breathes fire, only throws people into it—but what do I know?”

  The kid opened his mouth to argue the point. Damien was already getting out of his chair. Earnest Elliot was coming down the hall, looking like…shit, actually. He walked a little as if he were drunk, which was crazy because alcohol was one more thing that was forbidden in Hades Hills. In fact, Elliot headed straight, sort to speak, for the refreshment table, where he downed a cup of watery lemonade. Damien knew from experience that the stuff was pure mix, not a single real lemon in it and not worthy of a sip, let alone a whole cupful.

  Damien moved to meet him there and arrived while Elliot was emptying his second cup. “Are you all right?”