Dangerous Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  “Relocate me!” The boy whirled to face Alex. “What do you intend to do with me?”

  “Val has made a valid point that as you and he are no longer…involved, it makes sense to get you settled somewhere else, somewhere Dracul has no interest in.”

  “Oh, I get it. You and Val have the rest of my life all planned out, huh? You’re going to shunt me off to ‘no one’s ever heard of this God forsaken place’ Idaho or something. And I’m supposed to be grateful, is that it?”

  “I don’t understand. Only a few days ago you raised the issue of leaving. You said you felt imprisoned.”

  “That was different. I meant moving to an apartment instead of living at the club. And besides, things have changed since then, h-haven’t they?”

  Val saw the hope and confusion in the boy’s eyes. Val had hurt him, again. He’d allowed Mackie to think they were in a relationship once more. “No.” He made his tone final and implacable, making a quick cutting wound instead of drawing it out.

  Mackie’s jaw tightened and his eyes hardened. “My mistake.”

  “We’re doing this for your own good.” The words sounded weak to Val’s own ears.

  “Really? Is that what you tell yourself? Like when my parents were going to send me to a special school to cure me of my sexual confusion. Beatings and praying hadn’t worked, so they tried to rid themselves of their problem the same way you are.”

  “No, it’s not like that.” Val knew something of Mackie’s history. The way his family had treated him had always made Val want to hunt them down and mete out some of their own vicious justice. “We’ll make sure you’re situated to your liking and take care of you financially. It won’t be like when you had to run away.” Val could see tears forming in the boy’s eyes. Damn, he should have thought of how this might remind the boy of his family’s betrayal. “You’ll get to pick where you want to go.”

  Mackie eyes spit fire. “Gee, thanks. I appreciate having a say in my life. And, fuck you for thinking my concern is the money. Did it occur to you that I might have found a home here? I have friends and admirers and a skill for making money. If I get a say, then I choose to stay in Boston.”

  “You can’t!” Val’s temper snapped in an instant. Couldn’t Mackie see how hard this was on him, too?

  But, the boy was focused on Alex. “You’re onboard with all of this? It’s your club. Are you kicking me out?”

  Alex looked pained as he replied. “Mackie, please understand. This is for your own good.”

  “Bullshit. It’s because he can’t handle having me around, and he can’t fucking commit.” Mackie punctuated by jabbing his finger in Val’s direction. “Well, fuck you, Val. And fuck you, Alex. Fuck the whole damn place. You just tell me when the coast is clear and I’ll be out of your hair faster than a seven-foot-tall alien vampire. Good thing I never unpacked. But, you don’t control me and you don’t own the whole damn city, either. I can live wherever I want.”

  Val closed his eyes a second to gain control. “Mackie, please. We know you’re upset, but don’t do anything rash. We can help you financially and physically.”

  “I don’t need your help. I can earn a living. If nothing else, I can always go back to sucking cock in alleys.” He shot past Val—or tried to.

  Val reached out to grab his arm. “Wait!”

  Mackie turned hard, dried eyes on him. “Let. Go. You’re not my Dom anymore. You’re not my anything.”

  The venom in the boy’s voice drowned out the hurt. It was still there, layered under the bravado that the human’s past had forced him to adopt. It would have taken nothing for Val to lift him up and tie him to his bed, but that wasn’t the way for a Dom to treat his sub—or former sub. There would be no consent given for such an action. Much as he hated to do so, he forced his fingers open and watched the boy flee the room.

  Alex said nothing for a few seconds in the boy’s wake. “He’s upset. We’ll talk to him again later. Quinn will help, I’m sure.”

  Val couldn’t imagine anyone would be able to say anything to change Mackie’s mind. The boy was a brat after all, stubborn and unruly.

  Not my problem.

  He turned cold eyes on Alex. “Let’s go show Dracul’s boys whose city this is.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mackie took one last look at his kohl-rimmed eyes, blushed cheeks and red lips and decided that he had achieved the perfect look. He turned this way and that to check out the effect of the HommeMystere Britney high-neck bra and thong. His body was just the way he wanted it—slender and sexy. He walked a knife-edge between boy and girl.

  Val would hate it.

  Let him. Mackie was no longer concerned with what turned on his ex-vampire lover. Many of the club members would appreciate his non-binary appearance and pay dearly for the privilege of watching him dance—and touching him. There would be lots of touching from now on. Val and Alex had made it quite clear that Mackie had to set his own course or run the risk of losing his hard-won autonomy. Being independent meant having the money to do so. Starting that night, he was going to maximize his earnings, regardless of what it took.

  “Hmm, looking fierce there, girl,” Shawn said as he came out of the bathroom.

  Mackie didn’t correct the boy’s female reference. Mackie flashed him a smile. “Thanks, sweetie. Let’s go break some hearts.”

  Mackie put a swing to his hips and entered the main room. He took a second to make a song request from Kitty. “Numb, please. The Encore version.”

  Kitty gave him the once-over and shook her head. “Fine.”

  Mackie could feel the eyes of all the club members milling around as he sashayed his way over to the far-front stage. He hopped onto it during the last bars of the current song and grabbing the pole, struck a pose inspired by Marilyn Monroe with lips pursed and legs spread. Having no dress to hold down, he grabbed his junk. Every man in sight fixed their gaze down there. When the song started, he slowly navigated the stage, giving everyone a good look at his whole pretty body. Then, as the tempo picked up, so did he.

  He let his thoughts drift, moving to the rhythm of the song and emptying his head of worry. He could lose himself in the music and the flow of the dance. He forced his muscles to move and contort his body in time to the beat. The pole, as always, became an extension of himself. The lyrics told his story more eloquently than he could have ever expressed. And, as he played to his audience, treating each man as if he were the only one in the room, accepting their pawing and money, he cleansed his mind and his heart of Val.

  There was one man in particular who captured his attention. He edged out his competition, staking a spot by the stage and making sure that he touched whatever part of Mackie he could reach as Mackie went through his routine. The man’s eyes showed adoration and his hand fisted not twenties, but hundreds.

  Sliding one leg high on the pole in a vertical split, Mackie leaned down and gave the man an ‘O’ face. “Hi, Mr. Warren.” He grinned provocatively before twirling away.

  By the time the song ended, his thong was stuffed with the man’s appreciation. Warren waved one more bill in Mackie’s face. He bent over and snatched it up with his painted lips. Then he took it out again and stuffed it down into the pocket of his thong.

  Warren’s eyes lit up. He snagged Mackie by the top of his bra and pulled him closer. “I’ve got ten more where that came from if you meet me upstairs after your set.”

  Mackie fluttered his lashes. “How can I resist?”

  With that promise made, he went into his next routine, not really caring what Kitty played now that his feelings had been purged with the first one. Plenty of men stuck by him, and he gave each one as much attention as he could. By the time he was due for a break, he’d worked up a sweat. Someone offered his hand to help him down, while another flourished a handkerchief. Mackie used the square of cloth to dab his skin dry before handing it back with a quick peck on the cheek.

  Another man brought him a cold bottle of water. Hands roamed shameles
sly over his lace-covered chest and patted his ass. The men were treating him with such courtly attention, albeit with a whole lot of naughty thrown in, that he knew his new look had struck the right chord. It had led to even more money being stuffed down his thong and invitations for private assignations. He made vague promises to everyone, mindful of his date with Warren. He would find a way to satisfy all of them. The way things were going, he would only need to keep this job for a few weeks to pad his nest egg and find a new place to work and live.

  The reminder that he was being kicked out of the club and Val’s life sent a stab of pain through him. Pushing it aside, he flirted with his admirers for a few minutes before heading up to the second floor. He found Warren lounging in a lap-dance chair, sipping a drink and sporting a hard-on in his silk slacks.

  A moment of hesitation pulled him up short before he shoved the concern aside and plastered a smile on his face. “Hello there. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  Getting up, Warren snaked out an arm and snagging Mackie by the waist, pulled him against his body. He rubbed his erection against Mackie’s stomach. “I saw you down there, letting those other guys fondle you.”

  Mackie swallowed past a frisson of worry and licked his lips. “Boy’s got to make a living.”

  “Not if you were my boy.” Warren traced his tongue around the shell of Mackie’s ear. “If you were mine, I’d set you up in a condo and all you’d have to do all day would be shop and keep your hole ready for my dick.”

  Mackie shivered a bit in revulsion.

  “You like that idea, don’t you,” Warren said, misreading Mackie’s reaction.

  Not that Mackie could explain why he’d had it… It wasn’t that Warren was unattractive. It was something nameless about him that made Mackie want to push and run away. No, not nameless. He’s not Val. That was a stupid thought, though. He didn’t have Val any more. He needed to get that straight in his own mind and be sensible.

  He forced himself to look up at the man with desire. “Sounds like the perfect life.”

  Warren’s expression softened. “Not exactly though, huh? I mean you like it rough, don’t you? That BDSM stuff?”

  “Well…”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been reading up on it. I can give you that, if you want. I can be your Dom.”

  “Really?” It was kind of sweet that the guy had gone to the trouble and was willing to try it for Mackie’s sake.”

  “You don’t have to.” Mackie wasn’t sure he was into it without ‘he who could not be named’.

  “I want to try. You’re worth the effort.” Warren pressed a chaste kiss on Mackie’s lips. “I’ve reserved one of the playrooms. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “A thousand just to give me a chance to please you.” He held up a wad of cash in his hand.

  At that moment, Mackie felt more like a whore than he’d ever done sucking cocks in alleys. He wanted to refuse because he’d moved past that life—or, he thought he had. Then he remembered how he was really on his own again. Either he accepted money from Alex and Val or from Warren. What difference did it make, except that at least this way, he was earning his money? In a weird way, there seemed to be more dignity in offering his ass up to Warren then allowing someone who didn’t want him any more to pay his way out of pity or a sense of duty.

  Fuck that.

  Pasting a smile on his face, he said, “I’d love to.”

  Warren beamed with happiness and gratitude, just the kind of response that made Mackie feel wanted and appreciated. He linked his arm through the man’s and led him out of the room and down the corridor that contained the playroom. His steps hitched only a moment when he saw that they were going into the room, the one where he and Val had always played. The supersized equipment would make it harder for Warren, a mere human, to access whatever part of Mackie he wanted. But, oh well. Not his problem.

  Inside the room, the music was muffled unless one turned on the speakers. Warren didn’t. Instead, he let Mackie go and started stripping off his jacket. “Okay, boy. Take all of those bills out of your panties. I don’t want to see other men’s money.”

  “Yes, Sir.” As Doms went, the guy wasn’t half bad. His voice was steady and his tone authoritative over all. Mackie pulled the money out and stacked it in a neat pile on a table. He gave Warren the courtesy of a standing submissive pose and waited for his next order.

  “Okay.” The man rubbed his hands together and pursed his lips. “We need, um, a safeword, right?”

  “Yes, Sir. It’s red, Sir.”

  Warren nodded. “Good. So, ah”—he darted his eyes around the room—“up on the spanking bench. I’m going to paddle your ass.” He grinned broadly.

  Mackie batted his eyelashes again, trying to appreciate how hard the man was trying. He padded over to the bench, shoved aside sudden memories threatening to swamp him and climbed up. But when Warren started to cuff Mackie’s first wrist, something within him snapped.

  “Red!” He reared up, his chest heaving. “Sorry,” he added with a hard swallow.

  “It’s okay,” Warren rushed to reassure him. “We have all night. Take your time.”

  Mackie reached up to clasp the invisible lump in his throat. “I just need a moment.” He flashed the guy a grin. “I’m nervous.”

  “Me too,” Warren admitted. “Say… I have something to help, maybe.”

  “What?”

  By way of answer, Warren went back to his suit jacket and took out a flask. He brought it back and opened the cap. “Here’s a little high-octane bourbon. It might do the trick.”

  Mackie wasn’t sure what the man meant, but as he was determined to go through with the play session, he reached for the flask. He took a tentative sip, grimaced at the harsh taste, then took another larger one. The burn eventually morphed into a slightly floaty feeling. Normally, he didn’t drink when playing. It wasn’t recommended, but he needed the Dutch courage for this one night.

  He took a few more sips then handed it back. By the time he got into position once more, the liquor’s effect had started to change. He didn’t feel relaxed or sleepy. He felt powerful.

  * * * *

  “This way.” Logan propped open the old door with the warning sign and stood aside for the men to pass.

  Val wanted to go first. As Alex’s enforcer, he considered it his duty to always put himself at the pointy end of the spear, as the humans would say. It didn’t sit well with him for his captain to be the first thing their quarry might see and attack. But, he’d also long ago given up trying to protect Alex. The man had his own way of doing things and that meant running into danger, not away from it or hiding. So, Val had to be content with this secondary position. Immediately behind him was Duncan, with Logan bringing up the rear. She carried the duffle filled with the necessary items to destroy the stash of drugs. Val would have preferred for Emil to be with them, but Alex had decided at the last minute to leave him at the club—just in case. If Dracul launched some kind of direct attack, Harry and Kitty wouldn’t be enough to keep everyone safe.

  The old subway tunnel was dank and musty. It reminded him of a dead thing, ravaged by time and infested with vermin. A rat scurried across Alex’s path, its beady eyes shining off the beam of Alex’s flashlight that was for the benefit of the humans. It cast weird shadows on the walls.

  Val would bet that students who knew about this underground world must dare each other to explore it at night, when they were drunk and feeling braver than usual. The dirt offended Val’s senses, but otherwise, he felt invigorated at the idea of meeting up with Dracul’s boys. The scene with Mackie had left Val with a murderous need to tear someone to shreds.

  Not that he could afford to think of the boy at the moment. On the drive over, he’d replayed the scene in Alex’s office dozens of times over, despite his efforts to put it aside. He kept seeing Mackie’s hurt expression underneath his obvious anger, kept hearing the boy’s vicious words, as well, hurled at him because Val had been
clumsy in broaching the topic. It had happened because of Val’s own lack of courage and desperation to shove the boy as far from his orbit as possible.

  I’m weak.

  He lambasted himself because it needed doing. His lack of discipline had led to one boy’s death. He would not allow it to cause another to lose his life.

  The sound of voices reached his ears. Alex heard it too, and they both snapped off their lights and flattened against the wall. Duncan and Logan followed suit, although Val doubted they could detect the sounds. With Alex still in the lead, they inched forward. From what Val remembered from his investigation into the area, this old part of the subway contained a large room that was sometimes used by the transit authority for storage. He could only assume they were reaching that point.

  “I’m telling you that I don’t like to be fucked with.” The human voice, heavy with a Boston accent, was pissed. “You told me this was a cheap, better form of Molly, but my customers are ending up dead. It’s that vamp shit, ain’t it?”

  “What do you care?” The silky voice with the Welsh accent sent Val back more than a hundred years when he’d first encountered proof of Dracul’s fatherhood. “You get paid either way.”

  “I don’t if my customers are all dead.”

  “We pay you well enough, regardless.” This second voice was a little different, the twin for the one Val had tangled with before.

  “Not enough.”

  “You’re trying to renegotiate the terms of our deal? You’re not the first to do so.” The menace in the response should have made the human man shut the fuck up.

  It didn’t. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you’ve done in the past. I’m saying if you want me to keep pushing your shit through my pipeline of street dealers, you need to up my cut.”

  A loud growl reverberated through the tunnel. It was the right cue for them to rush forward. Around a bend, a muted light gave a clear view of two of their kind and a smaller man squaring off. Dracul’s rabid pup had grown since Val had last seen him, his brother equally big. There was little of their human father to be seen.