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

  “No, come here, where you can watch too.” The boy patted the other side of the bed.

  Christos hesitated only a moment before complying. He sat before toeing off his boots, then gingerly lay against the headboard with one pillow to cushion his back. He remained stiff and awkward. The heat of his companion did nothing to ease his discomfort, either. Every nerve-ending jangled and his dick was screaming to come out. His balls were likewise begging for relief. He couldn’t do this and turned his head to say as much.

  But the boy, the human, Mateo beamed back at him.

  That was when he knew for sure that he was in deep trouble.

  Chapter Three

  “This is my new army?” Dracul gripped the arms of his chair with enough power to nearly crush the wood to pulp. The line of humans standing before him were the very dregs of what this pitiful world had to offer.

  His slut sidled closer. “Yes, Master. They aren’t much to look at, but I’ve vetted them all and they are formidable.”

  “For the right price, naturally,” he sneered, although he had to admit that having fighters who could be trusted to serve the human god of money would make for a nice change. These pieces of living trash appeared to be wholly amoral. He could work with that.

  “I have proven to them how generous you will be for faithful and successful service. They like how shiny your Krugerrands are.”

  “Hmm.” Humans were pathetically predictable. For his next question, he switched from English to Welsh for privacy purposes. Humans were idiots when it came to their many languages. “Do they also understand the price of betrayal?”

  “I thought it best to leave that demonstration to you, Master,” the boy answered in the same tongue. “There is a perfect candidate, if I may be so bold?”

  Dracul’s mouth pooled with saliva and his fangs itched with anticipation. It had been too long since he’d tasted new blood. He didn’t even care that his slut had overstepped himself, as was his want. There would be time enough later to beat the smugness off his face. “Who?”

  The boy cocked his hip, licked a finger and pointed it in the direction of a human standing in the front center of the group. The man was big, as they all were, yet younger perhaps, and he looked like he hadn’t seen as much fighting as the rest of them. His skin was smooth yet bulging with muscles. His carotid popped out of his thick neck, while light blue eyes held the kind of dead quality that he admired in some of the species. He was probably someone totally devoid of empathy. As he was pointed at, the others moved away from him, sensing something bad was about to happen, even though they likely hadn’t understood what was being said and they didn’t want to be close to the action. Wise. The man himself remained cool, unafraid. Not so wise.

  He leaned forward with anticipation, his cock hard. “Why?”

  The slut pulled his accusing finger back to clasp his own throat. “He grabbed my ass and made an improper proposal. That was after I clarified that I am your property.”

  “Ah.”

  A pity. This one seemed a gem among the dreck, but some things were unforgiveable. The boy might not be much, but he still was his. This would be the perfect lesson in case any of these fuckers thought he was an easy mark to kill and rob instead of follow. They were his best option to finally bring Alex down and reclaim his remaining son. And he salivated anew at the thought of the vengeance he would wreak against the sluts who had dared defy him. It would be sweet in particular to drain Dafydd of his blood, then maybe he’d force-feed chunks of the husk to that cunt who’d dared to run from the pleasure of his attention.

  First things first, however.

  He rose slowly, letting his silk robe slip off his shoulders and slide to the floor. Being unencumbered was always the best way to feed. Ignoring the raised eyebrows of the humans at the sight of his scarred body, he kept his focus on his quarry. The man’s expression was of boredom. One could almost feel sorry for his lack of understanding. On the other hand, it had been ages since he’d done a big reveal for unwary monkeys without tails.

  “You touched what is mine,” he said, switching back to English.

  The moron actually shrugged. “He is piece of ass. I think maybe you share.” His broken speech revealed his lack of education and his accent indicated something Balkan, perhaps. Too bad, indeed, that this was the sacrificial lamb, as humans from that region tended to make excellent fighters.

  It was critical, however, to establish his power and decimate any ideas that these pieces of shit might have about overtaking him and stealing his wealth in return for no service. He knew what they saw—a broken man, alone with one small twink and a whole lot of valuable stuff. It was critical that he demonstrate how truly fucked they all were if they crossed him.

  “You thought wrong! What is mine, is mine alone. You worthless scum have to earn whatever I decide to give you. Disobey me, turn on me and you will know my wrath.”

  The fucker dared to grin. “You big guy but not so tough, I think.” He looked around at his coterie before adding, “I think we are a lot and can do as we want.”

  “And now you are wrong once again.”

  He let his fangs descend and waited a few more seconds to draw out the suspense before opening his mouth and hissing. There was a moment of perfect looks of horror on these hardened soldiers’ faces before he pounced. The men scattered in comical fashion, although he kept his attention on his feast. He tackled the man, even as he struck at that beckoning vein and sank his fangs in deep. He latched on with an unbearable thirst.

  His victim thrashed beneath him, rubbing delightfully at his ruined cock. He came from the friction alone. It took nothing to hold on to his meal. The warm salty blood flowed down his throat as he sucked and sucked with wild abandon. How long had it been since he’d fed to full satiation? Well, before he’d lost his home and his army of loyal crewmembers… The reminder of what had been taken from him spurred him to tug ever harder.

  The wild movement within his embrace slowed then stopped. He paid it no mind, savoring his long drink and coming time and again until the flesh he’d torn into dried and the clothing he was holding became drenched in cum. When there was nothing left to suck out of the human husk, he ripped his fangs free and lifted his heavy head. He would sleep well this night once he had his new army secure. There was silence, the humans around him standing unmoving, saying nothing, barely breathing. Dracul delighted in their shocked looks.

  He licked the blood from his lips as he swept the room with his gaze. “Any questions?”

  * * * *

  Mateo reached across the bed before his eyes opened and he came up empty. He cracked his lids to confirm that Christos wasn’t with him anymore, not even in the room. Rolling onto his back, he tried not to be bothered by it. There was no reason for him to expect that the man would have stayed the whole night, except he did remember being woken at one point to take another pill. Christos must have been there for some while after they’d turned off the TV.

  He stretched and yawned before sliding out of bed to use the bathroom. For a few seconds the room spun and his legs felt like jelly. Christos had helped him during the evening to make the short journey. The attached facilities seemed farther now that he was walking on his own, mostly because the bedroom was like some fancy hotel one, big and with a plush carpet where his feet sank a few inches. The bathroom was much the same. He’d been in a few nice places with tricks, so he wasn’t completely floored by the shiny fixtures and the polished stone. Awed, yes, but not dumbstruck.

  Weak as a kitten, he still had to sit to pee, which made the fact that he was alone all the better. It had been embarrassing as fuck when Christos had helped him into position the previous night. Funny how easy it was to get naked and nasty when it was all about sex for money. Somehow, when it was just a guy helping him, being kind, it had made him want to slink away with shame. He was used to being self-reliant. This bizarre turn of events left him confused and uneasy. Christos had said there was no payment expected, and his si
ncerity had rung true. And that was the problem. Kindness wasn’t anything Mateo was used to. He didn’t know what to do with it.

  He gave himself a few seconds to gather the strength to stand again. Eyeing the huge multi-headed shower, he longed to get clean. He’d sweated through the nice pajamas Damien had given him. That was maybe a good thing, like his fever had broken. There was no way he could manage to stay upright that long, however. So he settled for being able to wash his hands and stagger back to bed without falling flat on his face.

  A soft knock was followed by Demi entering the room with a bag over his shoulder and carrying a tray. “What are you doing up by yourself?” he scolded. “You should have pushed the buzzer.”

  Mateo didn’t get back into bed so much as fell into it. “I thought that was for when I needed food, not someone to hold my dick while I pee.” He couldn’t help moaning as he pulled the covers over his shaking body. “Dude, this sucks. Shouldn’t I be well by now?”

  Demi tsked like an old man as he set the tray on the nightstand. “What part of ‘You have bronchitis’ don’t you understand? It’s not simply a little cold that makes you miserable for a few days. This is serious. It could lead to pneumonia if you’re not careful.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m not good being helpless.” He was whining but couldn’t quite help it.

  Demi pulled out an ear thermometer from his bag. “No one is. Let’s see if you have a fever still.” He stuck the thing in Mateo’s ear then frowned at it after it beeped. “A hundred and one. Better.”

  Mateo frowned. “I think I was sweating during the night. Doesn’t that mean it broke?”

  “Yes, that was the acetaminophen at work, except that isn’t the end of it. Your temperature can rise and fall until the antibiotic really does its thing.” The guy put Mateo through a medical check-up, taking his blood pressure and listening to his lungs and heart.

  “What are you, Doogie Howser or something?” he asked when it was done.

  “Huh? Oh right, I get the reference. I liked that show, actually.”

  “You caught it in re-runs too? It was one of the few things I was allowed to watch on TV.”

  “Um, right, re-runs. Anyway, I’m studying to be a doctor. Harry is my father, you know.” Demi replaced his equipment neatly back in his bag.

  Mateo furrowed his brow. “But, when I met you with Damien, you seemed like another street kid.”

  Demi paused in the middle of revealing the food on the tray. “No, that was me just messing around. I was kind of trying to piss off my lover, Sergeant Trey Duncan.”

  “Except you were chasing Umi that night and he ended up dead.” His chest tightened at the memory, and it had nothing to do with his illness. “You all look like the Creature,” he added in a low voice, fear welling up once more. Now that he wasn’t quite as sick, his thinking was clearing and he remembered his initial reaction to Christos.

  Demi gnawed at his bottom lip. “What? Who?”

  Mateo sat straighter. “You know. He hurt me then I ratted on him. If you fuck that cop, Duncan, you must know the whole story.”

  “Um-m.”

  “Demi!” They both turned to find Christos entering the room. “I will handle this.”

  “Excellent.” The boy practically ran from the room. “Medicine’s on the tray,” he called out from the doorway.

  The sight of Christos, his long hair in a tight braid that shone with wetness, was a balm to Mateo. Even though this man looked more like his tormentor than Demi, somehow he chased most of Mateo’s fear away. It didn’t make sense, yet it was true nonetheless. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to press for answers though.

  He folded his arms. “I have questions.”

  “I am aware. You will start your breakfast first. I will tell you what I can.”

  Mateo accepted the tray over his lap and was momentarily distracted by the delicious smells of scrambled eggs and toast. “I’m not sure I understand what that means.” There was a glass of orange juice and, being thirsty, he started there.

  Christos sat on the side of the bed, his heavy body depressing the mattress. Better, though, was the way his solid leg brushed against Mateo’s. “Ask your questions and I will answer as best as I am allowed.”

  “Do you know about how that asshole forced me to accept him as my pimp?”

  Christos’ eyes turned flinty and, for a brief moment, there was a look that raised goosebumps on Mateo’s arms. “I have been told of it, yes. He can’t hurt you ever again.”

  “I know. Sergeant Jefferson told me that he disappeared after a raid and fled Boston. Jefferson claimed that it would be more trouble than it was worth if the fucker tried to return here.”

  “I have not met that particular member of the police force, but Sergeant Duncan is Demi’s man and he speaks highly of his colleague. I’m sure he gave you his honest assessment of the situation.”

  “Yeah, I met Duncan, too. They both seemed trustworthy… for cops, that is.” He tucked into his eggs, because he was as hungry as he was curious. Speaking with his mouth full, he said, “So you understand why the sight of everyone around here freaks me out? Or maybe not. You all remind me of him—big and scary and whatever.”

  “Yes, I understand there is a resemblance and we are…different.”

  “You’ve got that right.” He bit off a big hunk of toast that was lightly buttered. “You look like he did, but you sound different. Does that mean he’s a relative who was raised in a different country?”

  Christos turned his violet eyes on him and almost grinned. “You are smart to think of that and you are exactly right. The man who hurt you was a distant member of the family, but he was also a vicious predator raised by one who has no conscience. He was someone that I, and everyone else that I now live with, despised.”

  Mateo froze mid-bite. “You keep talking about the guy in the past tense. Is he…dead?”

  For a brief moment, it seemed as if Christos’ eyes went from violet to red. “Oh, yes. He most assuredly was. We clean up our own messes. And that is why you have nothing to fear from him ever again.”

  Mateo swallowed hard. “How come, then, Jefferson doesn’t know that?”

  “Because the authorities would frown on our housekeeping methods.”

  “But you’re telling me.”

  The man inclined his head. “You deserve to know, and I’m trusting that you will keep the information to yourself.”

  Mateo grimaced. “Plus, no one’s going to believe me anyway if I say something.”

  “There is that.”

  “Thanks for being honest about my lack of power, at least.”

  “You would not benefit from my sugar-coating your situation, nor is it in my nature to lie. I detest it, as well as keeping secrets, although it isn’t my place to control my life in that regard.”

  “I don’t understand what that means.”

  “I’m not my own man.” He looked away. “It is hard to explain, especially to one who was born in a place of democracy.”

  Mateo snorted. “Like that’s gotten me anywhere. Anyway, if you’re talking about family obligations, I get it. When I was a kid, the rule in my parents’ house was that my father was the head of the family. What he said was law. Everyone toed the line, including my mother, no matter what. It’s like that, huh?”

  Christos gave him a thoughtful look. “Yes, it is something like that, although for us, there isn’t a father.”

  “But there’s Alex, right? He’s the boss?”

  For a second, it seemed as if the man would disagree, then he nodded. “Yes, Alex makes the rules.”

  “Will he be mad that you told me the truth about…you know who?”

  “Possibly. If he finds out.”

  Mateo made a locking key motion across his lips. “I won’t tell. It would be a pretty shitty thing to do after all you’ve done for me.”

  “You owe me nothing. We’ve had this discussion before.” The censure was mild.

  Mateo let the to
pic go because it was obviously important for Christos to believe that there wasn’t going to be a settling of a bill before they parted company. Instead, he ate what he could of his breakfast and dutifully took his medicine. Then he collapsed into his pillow, feeling foolish over how weak he still was.

  He tugged at a stringy strand of hair that flopped across his cheek. “God, I’m so gross. I’d give anything for a shower.”

  “Has Harry or Demi advised against it?”

  “No,” he sighed. “I haven’t even bothered to ask, but I’m so weak that I doubt I could stand long enough to wash my body, let alone my hair.”

  Christos pulled his phone out of his pocket. “That is no barrier. I can help you, so long as it’s not detrimental to your health.”

  Mateo’s brain did all kinds of gymnastics at the image created by those words. Did that mean what he thought it meant, that Christos would come into the shower with him? Naked? Together in that big space he’d spied in the bathroom? Soapy and slippery and…nope, that wasn’t possible. If he lacked the strength to clean himself, he was in no shape to do any of the fun things two men could normally do together.

  Christos appeared oblivious to all those implications. He kept his focus on his phone as he texted, waited, then texted again. “It’s fine so long as I help you and we make sure to dry you and your hair thoroughly before you get back into bed.”

  He walked over to the door and fiddled with something on the wall. “There… I’ve jacked the heat to make the room as warm as possible for when you come back in.” He returned, and putting his phone on the nightstand, held out his hand. “Do you feel up to it now?”

  Mateo’s heartbeat stuttered as he contemplated the offer. The chance to get the grime of the streets and his sickness off him warred with the trepidation of getting naked in front of a man who both intrigued him and made him wary in equal measure. Of course, he could be completely out of line. Nothing said that helping meant stripping and getting into the shower with him. Perhaps Christos would merely hang around the bathroom, ready to leap in if he started to pass out.