Final Dance: Part One (Alien Blood Wars Book 8) Read online

  Shrugging, he gave the best answer he could. “The straight life’s not my thing, you know?” He hitched his backpack, his gaze caught by the sudden appearance of the man from outside.

  “He’s hungry,” the guy practically growled, and his expression read like he was mad, like needing food was a strike against Mateo.

  Damien didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by the colossus hovering behind him. He grinned. “Great, ’cause that’s what we’re here for. What would you like?” he added with a wave at the food laid out in front of them.

  “All of it?” He grinned back, although he wasn’t kidding. Everything looked and smelled wonderful and it had been a long time since he’d eaten. Even then, it had been a plain cheeseburger at Micky Ds because it was all he could afford. It had hardly been filling.

  Damien’s happy expression didn’t waver. “No problem.” Grabbing a plate, he began to load it with meatloaf, potatoes, cornbread and green beans. There were rolls, too, and pats of butter. When it was all piled high, he handed it over to Mateo, along with utensils wrapped in a paper napkin.

  “Go have a seat and I’ll join you. We can catch up. What would you like to drink? We have soda, but also hot chocolate, milk and various juices.”

  “Hot chocolate would be awesome.” He felt a little silly asking, like he was a kid or something. But it had been ages since he’d had that sweet, warm drink and he was still cold from the long walk. Even in the heated room, a shiver ran through him.

  “Coming right up.”

  “I’ll get it.” The man-with-no-name barked the words out, making them sound like an order rather than an offer.

  Damien didn’t seem to mind. “Thanks, Christos.”

  Christos. So that was the guy’s name. It sounded European, although he wasn’t quite sure what country he might be from. But Mateo was more convinced than ever that any similarity between him and the Creature was superficial. Someone who was willing to wait on a couple of street kids wasn’t the kind of asshole who would beat someone senseless before fucking them until they bled.

  He sat at an empty table, not intending to be more social than he had to be. While he didn’t know Damien well, he’d always found him to be solid enough. If talking to him was the price of having all this food, it was okay with him. That didn’t mean he waited for the guy to join him before attacking his meal, though. Table manners had never been his strong suit and, God, he was fucking starving. The first forkful had him lunging for more. He stuffed mounds into his mouth and chewed as fast as he could without choking. That proved hard when another cough shook him.

  “Hey, take it easy. Eating that fast when you haven’t eaten in a while will make you sick.” The admonishment was given in a friendly tone as Damien sat down opposite him.

  “Says the guy who isn’t going hungry these days,” he answered with his mouth full.

  “Yeah, I hear you. I haven’t forgotten what it’s like, though.”

  Mateo took a second to look his companion in the eyes. He saw a kind of sadness that reminded him that Damien wasn’t very far past a life on the streets. “Our kind of life sticks with you…like herpes,” he added with a grin to show he was trying to keep it light. Being morbid and feeling sorry for oneself was a sucker’s game.

  “Things can change.”

  “Sure,” he agreed with a wave of his fork, “if you don’t mind being paid shit wages while people in suits yell at you about how you got too much foam in their fucking lattes.” He shook his head as he took a big bite out of his piece of cornbread. “Give me an honest blow job any day. At least I know in advance what kind of screwing I’m getting.”

  Damien frowned. “Was it that bad?”

  Mateo nodded. “Seriously. And the shithole I could afford on what I was getting paid was no better than living on the streets. It was worse, honestly. At least out there I expect rats to run over me.”

  Damien ran his finger along a groove in the wooden table. “I’m sorry. I forget how lucky I was to find the job I did.” He looked around. “We’re working on establishing dorm rooms upstairs so that we can offer safe, warm places before the winter hits for real. We’ve started a list for the beds. I’ll put you on it.”

  Mateo simply shrugged and kept eating. He couldn’t think farther ahead than a couple of hours or so. There were fewer disappointments that way. “I bet it’s hard to get the do-gooders to hand over the money, huh?”

  “It’s not a money thing. It’s paperwork, red tape with the city.” Damien cleared his throat. “The funds for this place are actually all coming from my man.”

  Mateo swallowed hard and grabbed his roll to butter it. “Dude, you’ve got a full-time rich daddy?”

  Damien’s cheeks pinked. “It’s not like that. We’re in love.”

  “Oh, sure. That’s awesome for you,” he replied, because if that was the fantasy his friend wanted to weave, who was he to ruin it?

  Damien leaned in. “It can happen. There are good guys out there who want more than your body, Mateo. You have to believe in yourself.” That pearl of wisdom was delivered right before the mugs of hot chocolate.

  Damien’s giant elf put the drinks on the table between them with surprising gentleness, given his size. He glared at Mateo with his violet eyes for a few seconds before he left again without saying a word.

  Mateo put his fork down long enough to grab the mug and scald his tongue with a big slug of his drink, but it was worth it. He closed his eyes and hummed in appreciation before another coughing fit took hold. Damn, it felt as if his lungs were trying to escape his body or something.

  Damien frowned. “Are you all right?”

  Mateo used more of his drink to settle himself. “It’s nothing, just the leftovers from a cold. I’m fine.” Although his reassurance was punctuated by another shiver, and weird, but he felt kind of hot now. He took off his jacket and tossed it on the floor beside his pack.

  “Are you sure? That doesn’t sound good—and you’re kind of sweaty.”

  “It’s hot in here.” He shrugged away the concern and tackled his food once more. “So what’s up with that guy?” Christos.

  “You mean Christos? He’s a relative of my man. He’s come to Boston to help out…with stuff.” He blew on his drink before taking a sip. “He’s been really nice about volunteering here.”

  “What’s his jam?” He tucked back into his plate, although with the worst of his hunger satisfied, he slowed down. Man, Damien was right. He was sweating, as if the sudden amount of food in his stomach was overheating his whole system.

  “As in?” Damien put his hand up. “Please don’t mean what I think you do.”

  With a shrug, he said, “Why not? Don’t tell me you have a ‘no fucking’ rule here.”

  Damien gave him a pained look. “Not exactly. But this is a safe space, so no drugs or drinking and no turning tricks.”

  Mateo drank more of the chocolate and nearly came in his pants because it was so good. “No problem. I’ll blow him in the alley.”

  “Mateo,” Damien said sternly, “Christos isn’t like that.”

  “Dude, every man is like that, thank God. And I need the cash.”

  “I can give you a few odd jobs around here.”

  “What, like sweeping or doing the dishes? No offense, but I’d rather suck dick. Didn’t we just have this conversation?” He popped his eyes at the guy before adding. “Besides, I can tell that behind those jeans, there’s some dick to suck.”

  “That’s not the point, Mateo.”

  “Cock size is always the point—that and the amount of cash it takes to buy weed.” On some level, he knew he sounded like the trashy boy his family had always accused him of being. He couldn’t help it. When it was on his terms, sex made him feel good. It chased away the demons clogging his head for a little while. It was the same with being high. It mellowed his anxiety and allowed him to forget for a little while how totally fucked his life was.

  Something made him uneasy. Shifting his gaze beyo
nd Damien, he saw the subject of their conversation staring at him from the kitchen. Those freaky eyes bored holes into him, yet without leaving him with the dread he’d first experienced out on the street. There really was no comparison to the depth of emotion in those eyes compared to the utterly dead ones of the Creature. He wasn’t sure how the attention made him feel, so he went with the most pressing and obvious answer.

  “Don’t look now, but I think the guy is way into me. It seems like he doesn’t share your view.”

  Christos leaned against the divide between the kitchen and the serving table, not caring that he was being rude by human standards. He’d long past given up worrying how the strange inhabitants of this planet viewed him. His quiet life in the mountains, tending to his goats and his vineyard mostly on his own, didn’t require him to be social. In fact, one of the things he appreciated about his Greek neighbors was that they let him be. He’d gotten out of practice at hiding the fact that he was an alien, not that he’d ever been good at it. He didn’t have Alex’s smooth social graces or Val’s ‘fuck off’ ones. He’d always let slip something about his true nature whenever he got comfortable with a human. His living alone made more sense all around and the solitude suited him, except when it didn’t. Loneliness was just one more thing he had to accept as a consequence of the crash. He found it disorienting to suddenly be thrust into a sea of humans. Coming to Boston was proving to be difficult on many levels.

  Except for this one indulgence… No one around him seemed to mind his open appreciation for young males. Certainly it was the norm in Alex’s club. Such a clever man, his captain. He’d found the perfect cover for their natures and had cocooned himself and his most loyal followers in a friendly environment. Their actions were easily hidden from the general public while they were also living the most authentic lives they could since crashing on this ball of fractious and primitive beings. If he couldn’t have the peace of his mountain home, this would do well enough until they put the whole Dracul nonsense to rest once and for all.

  Perhaps he was supposed to be more circumspect here in this place that Will and his boy worked hard to make into a safe space for some of those that humans loved to discard like garbage. And he had been, so far, careful to maintain his distance and use his muscles in mindless work that nevertheless kept him occupied while they waited for…God knew what. Dracul was planning something and, as always, the fucker had no consideration for others. Although it was hard, Christos had ignored all the possible temptations flooding him here.

  This new seeker of succor, however, was different. The boy that Damien knew well enough to sit with had been the one to make that charming offer of a most intimate service. Christos could hardly be blamed for being intrigued. While his imagination wasn’t as vast as say…Val’s, when it came to sex, he had no trouble picturing those pretty lips wrapped around his cock. He’d been painfully hard since the moment the coquette had opened his mouth.

  A barking sound raked his ears, making him frown. There wasn’t anything appealing about that cough, however. This human wasn’t all that well, apparently. Out in the cold, it hadn’t seemed particularly alarming. Inside the almost-stifling heat of the old building, the underlying illness was more obvious. Not that Christos’ dick minded. It wasn’t as finicky or empathetic as he was. It wanted to empty his balls, and a little thing like consumption of the lungs wasn’t going to put it off.

  “What are you doing?”

  Christos didn’t bother to look at Will when he answered. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  His shipmate leaned into his space. “You said you understood that the mission of this place is to provide safety for kids. They have enough people preying on them. The way you’re ogling that boy, you’re like a cartoon wolf with eyes bugging way out. He appears to be a friend of Damien’s, besides.”

  “He calls him Mateo.”

  “Oh shit, really?”

  Now Christos did bother to look at Will, although briefly. “Why? Does that mean something to you?”

  “Yes. That’s someone who helped Alex and the others to bring down Cadoc. He was one of the boys who had been exploited. I thought they’d gotten him off the streets,” he added with a frown in his tone.

  “Apparently not, given that he offered to suck my dick for fifty dollars. Is that a good price?” he added, his gaze still locked on the boy, who stood while another coughing fit overtook him.

  “How the fuck would I know, and why would you even—?”

  The rest of the words were lost on him. The boy had stumbled past the chair he’d been sitting on, his body shaking as he fell. Christos vaulted over the serving counter, not caring who saw. When he landed, he whirled to place his hands on the table and used his momentum to cartwheel over it. He ended right where he needed to be to catch the boy before he hit the floor.

  The kid was hot as a cock, in a bad way—too much so, even for a human. Christos wasted no time scooping him into his arms. The kid weighed practically nothing, likely a testament to how hard he’d been living for a while. One big, hot meal wasn’t going to solve his problems. He needed a lot more than that to fatten him, plus what he really needed was a doctor. One look at the beautiful face with its flushed cheeks told him as much. A crowd had gathered already—the kids who’d been eating, Will and his boy, plus the woman who was a friend of Emil’s and an ally of them all.

  Christos focused on Will. “He needs medical care.”

  “Damn,” Damien said with a shake of his head. “I knew that cough sounded bad. There’s a hospital a few blocks away.”

  Christos considered what that meant. Humans no longer left their sick to fend for themselves, mostly. Taking him to a big institution with overworked doctors who wouldn’t treat this boy until they’d worked through the even-more-urgent cases didn’t seem the best idea, however. His grip tightened as he considered whether that was the right move. His charge moaned and shuddered, his pretty lips puffing out hot breath while his eyes remained closed.

  Christos made his decision an instant later. “No. I’m taking him to Harry for help.”

  The woman—Logan, she was called—snorted before clapping her hands. “Okay, kids, the show’s over. Go back to what you were doing.” She eyed Christos. “Good luck with that.” Then, as she walked away, she muttered, “What is it with these guys and pretty boys? Grabs them by the short hairs every goddamn time.”

  He ignored the snide remark, mostly because he couldn’t exactly argue with her observation. He was overreacting to someone and something that shouldn’t concern him in the least. And yet, the idea of simply handing this boy over to the emergency department at a hospital was not viable. He intended to see to his care himself, and it had nothing to do with promised blow jobs.

  It mostly had nothing to do with that.

  “Bring your SUV around to the front, Will.”

  The man shook his head slowly. “Seriously, Alex isn’t going to like the decision to bypass the hospital. This kid is not in the know, and bringing him to the family home is risky, especially with Mackie’s condition being obvious at this point.”

  “So, I’ll bed him in one of the rooms at the club.” His cock twitched because, on some level, his wording was not an accident. “I mean, I’ll settle him into one of those rooms. That should handle any security concerns.”

  Will’s expression telegraphed that he wasn’t convinced, but Damien put his hand on his man’s arm. “I’m with Christos on this. Mateo suffered a lot at the hands of a certain someone, and he risked his life to help. I didn’t understand it at the time, but Demi has filled me in on the whole thing. We kind of owe Mateo, don’t you think?”

  Whether Will agreed with that assessment or not, the look in his eyes when he stared at his boy was clear. The guy wasn’t about to deny his lover anything. With a nod, he gave Damien a quick kiss and headed for the kitchen. It had a back door leading to the alley where the vehicle was parked.

  “I’ll come with you. Logan’s got this place covered and I d
on’t want Mateo to freak out when he wakes up with strangers.”

  “As you wish.” Christos hefted Mateo closer and frowned. “His clothing is not suited to the weather. Can you get a blanket to wrap him in?”

  “Sure… That’s a great idea. I’ll meet you by the front door.” Damien didn’t wait for a reply. He simply strode away.

  Christos complied with the plan because it made sense, although he wasn’t yet used to how these human boys had gained prominence in their inner circle. But Alex was obviously comfortable with it, so it was Christos’ problem to adapt. For most of their time on this planet, they’d treated humans like the inferior creatures they were, albeit benevolently. He’d never developed the close ties that some of his comrades had with men regardless. It seemed pointless to become emotionally attached to beings with such short lives. Forming romantic entanglements was something he’d particularly avoided. Feeding blood to transform the humans to lengthen their lives had also never appealed. He’d seen how badly it could end. Why bother? It would never compare to living in a hive.

  Of course, now that they had Annika, their Queen, things were different. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It had taken nearly a thousand years to accept his new reality. It was hard to change his mindset once again.

  Not that any of that was relevant at the moment. He ignored the stares and blocked out the whispers of the young around him. They were irritating at the best of times, loud and messy. His volunteering to help was not done by any altruistic disposition of his. It simply gave him something to do, and staying at the family house was frankly much of the same. The hybrid boys orbited the Queen like newborn planets jockeying for position around the sun. The amount of noise they generated with their television shows, video games and endless music was an assault on his ears and sanity. His quiet solitude for so many years had rendered him overly sensitive to the chaos he now found himself in.