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

by Samantha Cayto

  Christos rounded on his friend. “I mean to Mateo! What’s to stop him from killing him on the spot?” Oh God. This was the thought he’d been trying to keep out of his head, that Mateo wouldn’t even have a chance to stay alive.

  “And he has Dafydd,” Paz chimed in. “Idris is who he wants. Dafydd is who he wants to kill. We can’t afford to sit around waiting for some kid to shine a fucking bat signal for us.”

  Jefferson cleared his throat. “Excuse me, folks. I know I’m new to all of this. Frankly, I’m not sure I’m not in a padded room somewhere hallucinating. Anyway, from what little I understand about this Dracul fucker, he’s a sadist, right?”

  “Genocidal maniac is probably more accurate,” Duncan said, “but, yeah.”

  “So, he’s got this guy—Dafydd, is it?—who crossed him, and he wanted our guy, Brenin, here, too for the same reason. Right?” When everyone murmured an assent, the cop continued. “Okay, so this isn’t exactly comforting, but if I were him, I wouldn’t want to, you know, end the fun too soon. Do you feel me?”

  “He’ll torture Dafydd. Is what you’re saying.” Christos understood the logic. When Paz made a wounded sound, he added, “As awful as it is, the man has a point. Killing Dafydd right away would be merciful, to Dracul’s way of thinking. And the asshole has none.”

  Brenin pulled away from Malcolm to go hug Paz. “Dafydd is strong, Ric. You know that, and I’ve seen how well he managed to survive that abuse. We have to believe he will do so again. He has everything to live for now…you and Idris.”

  Paz nodded as he clung to the boy. “You’re right. He can hold on, and I’ll be there to help him when the time comes. I’m not going to be left behind,” he added fiercely to the room at large.

  “Of course you won’t,” Alex assured him.

  “And what does that mean for Mateo?” Christos could easily imagine that Dracul’s fury over the mistake could spill onto his sweet boy.

  Once again, Jefferson interjected with reassurance. “Look… We’ve got a murderous sexual predator on our hands, yeah? He’ll be mad that it’s not Brenin, but come on… Mateo is pretty and sexy.”

  Christos hissed at the implication.

  Jefferson barely blinked. The man had accepted a lot of hard truths in a short amount of time. Perhaps it was because he was in shock. “And Mateo’s savvy,” the man said. “You must know that. Why would this fucker do away with someone better suited to be put to his own use?” The cop leaned forward as Christos fought not to slam his fist through the coffee table. “I know this is hard, but doesn’t it make more sense for him to keep the kid as a toy and take his anger out on the guy who made the mistake of grabbing the wrong boy?”

  Now Christos did give vent to his fury, bringing his fist down like a hammer and splitting the large wooden table in two. Hearing his own thoughts said out loud didn’t make him feel any better and he simply couldn’t contain his fury and frustration any longer. Cups went flying and platters of food careened into each other and onto the floor. He stood staring at the damage, his chest heaving as he fought to regain control. The dog jumped out of its mistress’ arms and tackled some nearby ham. At least someone was enjoying themselves.

  “Yes,” he finally choked out. “Damn you, yes. He’ll keep Mateo for his own pleasure, and the boy knows how to survive. He’ll make himself indispensable.” Gesturing to the mess, he added, “Sorry… I’ll clean this.”

  Alun started gathering the cups. “It’s all right. I’ll do it. Being at loose ends doesn’t suit me, so I’m happy with the mindless distraction. No one was eating anyway, and I can salvage most of the food for the homeless children.”

  Too tired to argue the point, he nodded and murmured his thanks. “We can’t rely solely on Merlin.” He looked at Alex, who turned to Val.

  “Have we made any progress on surveilling those five possible sites?”

  Val nodded. “We’re down to four, thanks to Petru.”

  “With leads to the most likely site among those remaining,” he added. God, had it really been a mere twenty-four hours since they’d questioned the man and made jokes about the efficacy of Tony’s explosives?

  Has it only been a day since I admitted out loud to others that I love Mateo?

  He rounded on Val. “Show me how I can be of more help, and for fuck’s sake, let’s get Petru out of his cell and on the job, too. He’s been doing the bare minimum so far. If we’re worried about him running, I’ll tie him to my waist if I have to.” And a thought occurred to him. “Surely we’ll see if there’s been any recent activity at any of those sites in the last forty-eight hours. Maybe we’ll even see them bring our people in.”

  Val nodding. “Fucking A, you may be on to something. They must have left by way of a private airport, but they have to land somewhere and transport their prisoners to the final destination somehow.” He placed Mackie gently on the sofa before standing. “Let’s go see if we can sneak past the CSI people who are left.”

  Duncan and Jefferson also got to their feet. “We can help you there.”

  “Excellent.” Christos pounded his fist in the other hand. “Because I’m not going to sit around while my boy is out there. We’re going to bring this fight to Dracul again, and this time, he won’t survive.”

  Hang on, Agἁpi mou, I’m coming for you.

  * * * *

  Mateo had lost track of the time. He didn’t have a phone and wouldn’t have been able to keep one regardless, given the thorough search his captors had performed once they were airborne. It was predictable, really. Whatever rules these fuckers were operating under, they’d still managed to cop some heavy-duty feels. His balls still ached from the squeezing. And they’d done the same to Dafydd, who’d weathered everything with a stony expression that spooked him a lot. Merlin had hissed and bared his fangs at them when they’d tried it on with him. Not surprisingly, their captors had backed off fast. Weird how something like vampire teeth seemed almost commonplace to him at this point.

  Even Idris had been searched, his diaper ripped open and tossed aside. Mateo had worried that they were all in for a whole bunch of pee and poop, given that the idiots hadn’t brought any baby stuff with them. The toddler surprised him by being able to hold it and use the toilet, when they were allowed such courtesies. Food wasn’t readily available, either, and it was rather atrocious when it was given, but the baby was able to eat that, as well, and with a lot more of an appetite than the rest of them had. He was too young to understand just how completely fucked they were.

  Small mercies.

  They had changed planes at least once, although even in the daylight, he couldn’t tell where they were…somewhere desolate and chilly. The clothing he’d been wearing didn’t offer much protection against the cold. By the time they deplaned at their final destination, the sun was setting. He didn’t see much except desert before being hustled none-too-gently into a large truck. The flap in the back was lowered, leaving them mostly in the dark. He leaned toward Dafydd, because the alternative was one of the men who was particularly handsy when given the chance. Merlin sat opposite them, being quiet and mostly compliant at every step. Mateo still couldn’t figure out the guy’s angle. Regardless, he couldn’t afford to trust him.

  The ride was long, bumpy and nauseating. The only relief from the boredom was trying to help Dafydd amuse Idris so that the kid didn’t start screaming. It was remarkable how calm he’d been, especially as Mateo himself found it hard not to bawl his eyes out. Finally, they first slowed then came to a stop. The back flap opened to reveal the leader of the men silhouetted by a dingy backdrop. They were all dragged out and marched through a set of large wooden doors. There was a smell of mustiness, as if the place hadn’t been aired out in years.

  Sand littered the floor of the hallway they walked down before a set of stairs sent them even lower. They were greeted by more men with guns, all of whom looked as if they’d answered the same casting call for anyone who naturally looked like a mercenary. There were a lot of
shaved heads and beady, soulless eyes—and cammies, so many cammies, like they’d cleaned out the local Army Navy stores. The dress code would have been the envy of most ten-year-old boys. The men didn’t scare him as much as they might have, because his boyfriend put them all to shame in the badass arena. Plus, they weren’t vampires, so that was a clear disadvantage in his mind.

  Dafydd shook beside him, subtly yet obviously. Unlike Mateo, he knew what they were heading for. It obviously wasn’t good, and notwithstanding the men around them, he had to assume that this Dracul character was a vampire, too. It was in the name, so…yeah. He couldn’t help wondering if he was in for a Bela Lugosi type or one of the more modern sexy incarnations. It didn’t matter. Regardless, Mateo would do his best to keep himself alive by amusing the creature. And of course, the moment he thought it, he realized where the Creature had come from. This was undoubtedly the undesirable relative of whom Christos had spoken. A shiver ran through him before he steeled his spine. There was no room for that kind of nonsense. He could do this.

  Another corridor led to a final set of doors that opened soundlessly in the middle when pulled by two men stationed on either side of them. The room they entered was something out of the Arabian Nights, with plush Persian rugs and silk wall hangings. Some kind of spicy incense permeated the place. At the far end sat a man on a chair that was almost throne-like. As he got closer, Mateo noticed that the guy fit none of his expectations.

  This guy was ugly. His black hair was choppy, as if it had been pulled out in hunks, and his face was marred by scars, as was his chest, which was on full display because he wore only an open silk robe over loose pants of similar material. Keeping this guy happy wasn’t going to be a picnic, but he could have been Adonis for all it mattered to Mateo. He wanted Christos and no other man.

  Beside him, clad in a thong, was a beautiful boy with striped hair. On closer inspection, he had mismatched eyes as well. There was something definitely not quite human about him. His expression brought the definition of smug to a whole new level—except when he caught sight of Mateo, it turned flinty. The main man, Dracul, didn’t so much as glance at him, however. His gaze was fixed on Dafydd. A tremor ran through the poor guy and his arms tightened around Idris.

  Dracul gave him a toothsome smile. “My dear Dafydd, back in the fold. How wonderful it is to see you again.” The tone was gag-worthy, oily and menacing in equal measure. It was amazing that Dafydd had the strength to stay upright.

  “Nothing to say, cunt? No matter… I’m sure I’ll manage to tease some kind of sound out of your traitorous mouth soon.” His eyes widened. “And you’ve brought me my son. My, isn’t he a big, strapping boy? Bring him to me,” he barked at the striped boy.

  The guy slunk toward Dafydd with his hands extended. “Come here, sweetie. I’m Andri, your new daddy.”

  Dafydd took a half-step back, but with the armed men standing in a semi-circle behind them, there was nowhere to go. Idris clung to his father, his face buried in the crook of the man’s neck. Andri grabbed hold of his little waist and tried to pry him out of Dafydd’s arms. The tug-of-war raged for a few tense seconds before Merlin stepped in.

  “Here, let me.” He actually hip-checked Andri out of the way and put his own hands on Idris’ small body. “Idris, you know me. Let go now.”

  The toddler only hesitated a second or two before releasing his grip on his father and twisting to hold his arms out to Merlin. Dafydd didn’t let go right away, however. Some look passed between him and Merlin before he handed his son over. Then he covered his mouth to stifle a sob.

  Merlin smirked at Andri. “See how easy it is?” Ignoring the boy’s efforts to take Idris from him, Merlin instead approached Dracul. “Master.” He somehow managed to bow low while still holding the baby.

  Dracul’s eyes narrowed. “I know you. Your sire was loyal to the end, for as much good as it did me. He was an idiot.” He shrugged. “Then again, they all were, so I suppose I can’t hold that against you. Why are you here?”

  “To serve you, Master. I was taken against my will and held captive by those who betrayed you.” He actually spat to one side before rubbing the moisture into the carpet with his foot.

  “Hm-m. You might prove useful. Give me my son.”

  Merlin didn’t hesitate to hand over Idris to Dracul, who beamed as he sat the kid on his lap. Idris stuck his thumb in his mouth while staring at…his father? The parentage situation was confusing as hell. There had been no chance to ask any questions during their journey, but Mateo was curious as to how this double-father thing had occurred. He had a sickish kind of feeling that adoption or surrogacy was not part of the equation.

  Dracul laughed as he regarded the kid. “What a strong lad you are, hm-m? Of course, my son would be so, although one worried what harm was being done to you living among all of those weak-willed dogs. No matter… I will teach you what it means to be a true warrior.”

  He switched his attention to the mercenaries’ leader. “Has he been fed properly?”

  “Yes, sir. He ate some of our MREs.”

  Andri rounded on the man. “I gave you formula!”

  The man shrugged. “I didn’t see any. It must have been with the other group’s supplies. The kid did okay with regular food.”

  “Huh. He probably needs changing.” Andri reached to take Idris.

  “No,” Merlin interjected, “he’s toilet trained.” By his tone and expression, it was clear that he was enjoying his role of bursting Andri’s parenting bubbles.

  “Let me take him from you, Master. I’ll settle him into his new room.”

  Dracul waved him away, his focus suddenly and uncomfortably on Mateo. “Who the fuck is this?” His gaze swiveled around the room. “And where the fuck is that other Welsh slut?”

  The mercenary leader stepped forward with obvious trepidation, hidden behind bravado. “This is him, sir.” He pointed at Mateo.

  Dracul’s face twisted in rage. “You think I’m incapable of recognizing the hole I stuck my cock into for months?” He switched his gaze to Mateo before the guy could sputter out an answer to that clearly rhetorical question. “Who are you, cunt?”

  He wanted to curl into a ball and suck his thumb, much like Idris was doing. Instead, he thought of Christos and drew power from the image. Putting his hands on his hips, he said, “I’m Mateo, Daddy.” The saucy reply seemed to mollify the man some.

  The mercenary was too stupid to stay quiet. “That guy said he was the one you were looking for.” He fingered Merlin as the fuck-up.

  The boy didn’t seem fazed by the accusation. He shrugged. “One slut looks much like the other. He was the toy of one of your enemies, though. That much I can promise you. So, that’s kind of fun, don’t you think, Master?”

  “Hm-m.” Dracul didn’t look entirely convinced. “I suppose it will have to do. I assume you know what to do with my dick to encourage me to keep you alive?”

  Swallowing his fear back, he said, “Yes, Daddy. You won’t be disappointed.”

  “I’m sure I won’t. If so, I’ll throw you to these dogs.”

  Mateo was careful to pout as if the idea only disappointed him instead of him being terrifying.

  Andri sidled closer to Dracul. “You don’t need him, Master. I can give you the pleasure you crave.”

  “Shut up.” Dracul casually back-handed the boy while continuing to dandle his son on his knee.

  Holy shit, is this guy a complete psycho?

  Andri stumbled, yet went right back to where he’d been, and there was both anger and excitement shining through his eyes.

  “I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied with the limited success of the mission.” Dracul eyed the mercenary. “Count yourself lucky that I need all the men I have at the moment or you’d be my lunch. Here… Take the boy and get him settled,” he added, shoving Idris at Andri.

  The boy was delighted with his charge. Idris less so. As they left the room, the toddler set to wailing. With a whimper, Dafydd curled
in on himself, his fist pressed against his mouth. He didn’t stay in that position long. Dracul hissed and sprang from his seat. He had Dafydd by the hair in a millisecond and slapped him, sending him to his knees.

  Mateo gasped. He was afraid to look away because he didn’t want to show weakness. Dracul would exploit any he could find. Yet watching the abuse was horrifying and he also wanted to give Dafydd a measure of privacy as he struggled to survive it. The man deserved that respect. It was Merlin, in the end, who took the choice out of his hands. He pulled Mateo against him and covered his eyes with his hand. Now, he couldn’t see, but he could hear. And that was nearly as awful.

  “Did you think you could escape me? You are mine and you don’t go until I say so. I’m going to enjoy teaching you lessons all over again before I drain you dry.”

  “I’m going to enjoy seeing you turned to dust.” Dafydd’s defiant statement was rewarded with something that made him scream.

  “Get him out of here. Where is that new slut?”

  Merlin took his hand away and shoved Mateo forward. The force of Dracul’s stare was temporarily blocked by the sight of a bloody Dafydd being dragged out of the room by two men. Mateo had only a moment to feel pity for the man before he had to focus on his own problems.

  Dracul crooked his finger as he returned to his chair. He shoved his waistband past a hard and mangled cock. Being an abusive asshole turned him on, apparently. Dracul pointed at the thing. “Show me how much you want to live, cunt. We’ll start with your mouth and see how that goes.” From a nearby table, he grabbed a goblet and stared at Merlin over the rim. “You may stay and learn something… What is your name?”

  “Merlin, Master.”

  He took a sip of his drink. “Really? How utterly unoriginal. I am waiting, slut.”

  Now that the time had come, his instinct to survive warred with his bone-deep fright and revulsion. It took a discreet push from Merlin to get Mateo’s feet moving. I can do this. This was just another trick. He would get the guy off quickly and take his reward. Maybe he’d be allowed to rest and eat something hot, even tend to Dafydd. This was nothing new to him. Except now he’d experienced the wonder of Christos. He’d known decency and even found love. It was hard to go back to the life of a street rat after that.