Stanton lumbered into the room and hurried over to him. Instead of trying to help him wake Jerome, Stanton slid his arms under his friend’s body and hefted him into his arms. He started toward the door.
“Let’s get out of here.” Stanton then jutted his chin in the direction of a bookshelf. “Grab Billy.”
Francois followed his gaze and realized his beloved must have been referring to his beta fish. Nodding, he continued to talk to the operator, although there wasn’t much else to tell her. He tucked the fish’s container under his arm so he had a hand to open the apartment door before starting down the stairs. It wasn’t until he’d reached the lawn and he’d turned around that he saw the graffiti sprayed across Stanton and Jerome’s door and the side of the building.
Faggots deserve death!
“Good grief,” Stanton muttered, having obviously spotted the hateful words. Shaking his head, he placed Jerome on the lawn. “I’m gonna go pound on the doors of my neighbors.”
Biting back a growl, Francois nodded. As he explained the graffiti to the operator, who said responders were on their way, he watched Stanton begin to pound on the nearest doors. Francois ached to be right there beside him, but he resisted, knowing Stanton wouldn’t understand.
I will watch carefully and be patient.
Instead, Francois began sweeping the area. If the fire starter was still around, he or she couldn’t be pleased that their targets had escaped the apartment unharmed.
Who zee hell would do zis?
Deciding making another call was more important than tying up the operator, Francois hit the end button. He swiftly dialed Rhyme. If he’d been home, he would have contacted his coven second, but he didn’t feel he had that right here.
“It’s the middle of the night, Francois,” Rhyme grumbled. “What the hell is it?”
“Someone set Stanton and Jerome’s apartment building on fire,” Francois stated bluntly. “Zere was a slur painted on zeir door. I zink Stanton was zee target.”
As Francois spoke, he searched out his beloved once more. When he didn’t see him right away, he scowled. The sirens in the distance, coupled with the roar of the growing fire, made shouting for him pointless.
“We’re on our way, and I’ll notify the inner circle,” Rhyme told him.
“Zank you.” Distracted, Francois disconnected the call.
“My god. What happened?” Jerome asked, sounding groggy.
“Apartment fire,” Francois replied quickly, his gaze still focused on the apartment building. He placed the small aquarium holding the beta beside Jerome’s hip. “Are you okay by yourself?”
Although, technically, Jerome wouldn’t be alone. Some of the neighbors were now milling around the area. Couples and families held each other. Singles hugged themselves while pressing their phones to their ears.
“I’m good, man,” Jerome told him. “Where’s Stanton?”
“He was helping to clear zee building,” Francois told him. “I need to go find him.”
Francois didn’t wait for Jerome’s response. Jogging toward the corner where he thought his beloved had rounded, he searched the area. The flames were heavier on that side, and Francois guessed that was where whoever had started the fire.
“Stanton?” Francois called, even though he doubted it would do any good. He spotted an open door with smoke pouring from it and headed that way. “Stanton?”
Please tell me he didn’t go inside.
Francois tried to scent his beloved, but his vampire senses were muddled by the thick smoke. Trusting his gut, the sixth sense that told him his kind human would indeed try to help someone, he put his hand over his mouth and nose and headed inside. From the location of the apartment and how heavy the smoke and flames were, Francois guessed the place was located directly beneath Stanton and Jerome’s place.
To his relief, Francois immediately spotted Stanton bent over a chair in the living room.
Hurrying to Stanton’s side, Francois realized he was helping a little old lady to her feet. The problem seemed to be the cat in her arms, which was doing its best to get away—probably to hide. The woman couldn’t handle the cat and keep her balance.
“Stanton, come on,” Francois cried, drawing his attention.
“Misses Beaterman needs to get Muffy in his crate,” Stanton told him around a couple of coughs. “But she can’t remember where his crate is.”
Francois nodded. “Okay. I can help.” He grabbed the cat’s nape and lifted it from the older lady’s arms while hazing his eyes. When she looked up at him and gasped, he knew she was shocked at the sight of his blood-red irises. “Where is your cat carrier?” Francois demanded softly, delving into her mind.
Francois snagged a memory just as she replied, “In the coat closet.”
Of course it is.
Then Francois planted the idea that the red in his eyes was just a trick of the light before releasing her mind.
Still holding the cat by its nape, Francois hustled to the closet near the front door. He hissed at the heat of the knob when he turned it but ignored the pain. Yanking the door open, he immediately spotted the carrier on the floor.
Francois snagged the carrier, then eased the cat inside and shut the door. By the time he lifted the caged cat, Stanton had urged Misses Beaterman to her feet, and they were heading toward him. Turning toward the door, Francois froze.
A muscular brunette stood there holding a gun, smiling at them. “When you escaped your apartment before my fire could reach it, I was so pissed.” Her smile turned malicious. “This is so much better. A coupla fags dying while trying to save an old lady’s cat. How dumb can you be?”
“Esmerelda, did you start this fire?” Stanton snapped angrily, as he took a step toward her.
“Of course, I did.” The woman—Esmerelda—swung the gun and pointed it at Stanton. “Back up, Stan,” she ordered coldly. “You deserve what’s coming to you for getting Anthony and Benjamin fired like that.”
“I didn’t—” Stanton started, but a crash behind them drowned out his words.
Francois took advantage of the distraction. Lunging forward, he grabbed her wrist and shoved it upward. The weapon fired, and Francois felt a sting to his shoulder, but he ignored it.
Using his momentum and vampire strength, Francois shoved Esmerelda out of the way. “Get out here, Stanton,” he roared as he continued to propel her backward. He cleared the sidewalk and made it to the lawn just as his sensitive vampire hearing heard the sound of people running toward him.
“Drop the gun!” someone yelled.
At the same time, another person ordered, “Step away from each other and drop the weapon!”
Francois didn’t think that was such a good idea, but he needed to obey law enforcement. No way did he want to get tossed in jail. He had a beloved to care for.
Attempting to obey, Francois swung Esmerelda’s arms in an upward arc. He released her and lifted his hands as he backed away. Warily, he watched to see what she would do.
“That man attacked me,” Esmerelda claimed as she lowered her weapon. “I was just defending myself.”
“That’s bullshit, Esmerelda,” Stanton countered as he helped Misses Beaterman onto the grass with one arm. In his other hand, he held the cat carrier. “Esmerelda started the fire, officer.”
While one officer was disarming Esmerelda of her weapon, the other man glanced between them all as if trying to figure out who was telling the truth.
“These fine young men are telling the truth,” Misses Beaterman claimed, her voice a bit raspy from the smoke. “That young woman admitted to starting the fire because these young men are gay, as if who we love has anything to do with anyone else.” She clung to Stanton as she continued fiercely, “And she was going to lock us in my apartment and let us burn, making it look like they died trying to save me.”
The officer who’d disarmed Esmerelda grabbed her again, and even as she screamed obscenities and how everyone was lying, he cuffed her. “It’s just until
we can get everything sorted out,” the man told Esmerelda, but she continued to struggle and yell. “If you continue to resist, I will be forced to take you in regardless.”
That seemed to set Esmerelda off even more, and the officer ended up frog-marching her away.
“I’ll need to take everyone’s statements. I’m Officer Merlzer.” He swept his gaze over them, then added, “Let’s get everyone checked first. Can you round the building? Or should I have the paramedics bring a stretcher around?”
“A stretcher would be lovely, Officer Merlzer,” Misses Beaterman replied.
Officer Merlzer used the microphone attached to his shoulder and called for assistance. Paramedics quickly arrived. They helped Misses Beaterman onto the stretcher, and Stanton placed her cat carrier on her stomach.
As soon as Stanton’s hands were empty, Francois stepped close. He grabbed his lover’s fingers, pleased when his beloved didn’t attempt to pull away. Even better, he wrapped his arm around Francois and tucked him close to his side.
Stanton grinned down at him as they started after the others. “Are you always going to cause this much trouble?”
At first, Francois thought Stanton was actually angry. With his sense of smell still overwhelmed by smoke, he couldn’t scent him. Then he noticed the twinkle in Stanton’s eyes and how the corners of his lips twitched.
Smirking, Francois murmured, “How about I just promise zat your life will never be boring?”
“That’ll work,” Stanton replied as they rounded the building. Then, right there in front of dozens of neighbors, strangers, and friends, Stanton paused and captured Francois’s lips.
As Francois returned Stanton’s lip-lock, he rubbed up and down his beloved’s spine, reassuring himself that his human was alive, well, and in his arms.
Everyzing else is icing on zee cake.
When Stanton broke the kiss and grinned down at him, uncaring at the wolf whistles that rent the air, Francois realized that, even sweaty, sooty, and filthy, he had never been happier. His beloved had taught him to enjoy the moment, and they would navigate that future together.
You may also enjoy the following from eXtasy Books Inc:
Capturing Autumn’s Airy Breeze
Charlie Richards
Excerpt
Agnoroth knew he’d fucked up.
The story of my life.
The Fates had been laughing at him that day over eight months before. Agnoroth had met his mate—Kristof—the other half of his soul, while helping the fire dragon, Perentian, kidnap the man’s friend. The friend—Riley—had been mated to another dragon named Dagskon. Perentian had claimed Dagskon had stolen a valuable gem from him. The plan had been to use Riley as a bargaining chip to get the gem back.
The plan hadn’t worked, naturally.
Along the way, Agnoroth had run into his half-brother, Kazeem, who was also mated with one of Kristof’s best friends. A human named Stefan. Kazeem had explained the truth of the matter—that Perentian had stolen the gem from the dragon king, and Dagskon had returned it to the king. Once he’d known the truth, Agnoroth had released Riley, but the damage was done.
Kidnapping a mate was a very serious crime.
Agnoroth had been fortunate. Since Kazeem had stood up for him, speaking on his behalf to the king, Agnoroth had been given a reduced sentence. For helping Perentian—even though it’d been under false pretenses and duress—Agnoroth had still served six months in the king’s service as a gardener.
He knew Perentian had been put to death, but kidnapping a mate hadn’t been his only crime. Fortunately, before the sentence had been carried out, Perentian had revealed where he’d hidden the crystal orb he’d stolen from him. That had been the main reason Agnoroth had agreed to help the dragon. He’d wanted his gem back, so he’d been sympathetic to the fire dragon’s desire.
Being an air dragon, Agnoroth hadn’t minded the work. He’d used his magick to blow the leaves into piles instead of actually raking. His abilities also made it easy for him to throw gusts of wind at trees to knock off ripe fruit, then guide them into his basket.
While the chores were menial, Agnoroth had found he’d enjoyed them, making his six-month sentence fly by.
Agnoroth stared at the apartment building. “And now I’m here,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn’t revealed who Kristof was to him to anyone. “Time to see if he’ll even talk to me.”
Tipping his head back, Agnoroth enjoyed the cool autumn breeze caressing his cheeks. He thought about that moment when he’d had Kristof in his arms. Grabbing his mate to stop him from interfering with Perentian had been spine-tingling. The feel of the human’s body, even through the thick winter clothes, had caused his dick to swell. A second later, realizing who Kristof was to him and how their first interaction was about to go, Agnoroth had damn near felt his heart break.
So much for making a good first impression, but I’ll make him understand.
For the last several weeks, Agnoroth had been watching Kristof’s movements. He knew his mate worked as a mechanic and used a motorcycle to commute. The sight of Kristof on his older model Indian always caused Agnoroth’s blood to heat and his dick to thicken.
Watching from the park bench across the street from the apartments, Agnoroth waited. He glanced at his watch and saw the time was twenty after six. Anticipation began to surge through him.
If Kristof kept with his pattern, he would be home within the next few minutes.
Agnoroth hummed as the sound of Kristof’s Indian reached his ears. Peering down the road, he watched as his mate appeared. The man’s faded jeans molded to his body, showcasing his very fine ass and his long, muscular legs.
As his mouth watered, Agnoroth rose to his feet. He kept his focus on Kristof as he exited the park and headed to the crosswalk. As Agnoroth waited for the light to change, Kristof parked his motorcycle and took off his helmet.
The way Kristof’s muscles flexed drew a groan from Agnoroth’s throat. He reached down and adjusted his growing erection as he watched Kristof unhook his backpack from the back of the bike. The beep of the crosswalk signal registered, and Agnoroth started swiftly across the street.
By the time Agnoroth reached the other side, Kristof was already heading up his walk toward his apartment building. He continued at a leisurely pace, hoping to reach his mate’s door a moment after he’d entered his home. Just before Kristof reached the stairs that led to his third-floor apartment, someone called Kristof’s name.
Agnoroth slowed his steps as he watched a tall, muscular blond man jog the last couple of steps to reach Kristof’s side. When Kristof turned his attention toward the man, a scowl curved his lips. Kristof’s eyes narrowed, and his expression darkened as he took in the man who was an inch taller and just as broad.
“What do you want, Casey?” Kristof asked, stepping back when the man—Casey—tried to reach out and touch him.
Casey smiled widely as he swept his gaze over Kristof in what was clearly a hungry manner. “Aww, don’t sound like that, Kristof,” Casey all but purred in a deep rumble. “You’ve been avoiding my calls, so I had to come by.” Once again, Casey stepped closer and reached for Kristof, resting his palm on his leather-jacket-covered arm. “I’ve missed you.”
Kristof growled softly as he turned, pulling away. “I told you we were through, Casey,” he stated, his tone beyond cold. “Take off.”
“You don’t mean that,” Casey cried, grabbing at his arm again.
“I do mean that,” Kristof countered, half-turning to face him. “All I wanted was fidelity, and you couldn’t give me that, so we’re through.”
Casey’s lecherous expression disappeared as his eyes narrowed. His features took on a hard look. “You went away for two weeks without telling me. That wasn’t my fault,” he declared. “Besides, it was just a blowjob.” Casey scoffed. “I don’t even know how you found out about it in the first place.”
“How I found out is beside the point,” Kristof growled. “A
nd I did tell you. Now, let go of me before I—”
“Before you what?” Casey demanded, his blue eyes flashing with anger. “You gonna hit me, Kris?” His lip curled as he leaned close. “You’re not into that, remember? I am, and if you think for a second that you get to decide to walk away from me before I’m done with you, then—”
“Then you should listen to Kristof and walk away,” Agnoroth declared, unable to stand by and watch his mate be manhandled. By the time he finished speaking, Agnoroth had reached their side. “Release him now.”
Casey didn’t obey. Instead, he pinned Agnoroth with a scathing look. “Keep walkin’, fem,” he ordered, sneering. “You don’t wanna get involved in this.”
Agnoroth ignored the insult—fem, short for effeminate. He’d heard it before. Due to the fact that he was an air dragon, his voice in human form came out a surprisingly high tenor. That didn’t bother him.
What bothered him was the fact that Casey wasn’t obeying.
Fighting back his desire to unleash his claws and tear into the asshole human, Agnoroth narrowed his eyes and hissed, “I’m already involved.”
Kristof’s gasp drew both men’s attention. His mate’s dark eyes appeared wide, betraying his shock. Even his face began to pale.
Damn. Not the reaction I was hoping for.
Oh, wait. That’s a flush. And did he just glance toward my groin?
Nice!
About the Author
Charlie started writing fantasy when she was eight, and after stumbling onto her first erotic romance at age nineteen, she realized her true calling. She now focuses on writing gay erotic romance, normally of the paranormal variety, with heroes of all kinds. With the help and support of her husband, Charlie finally fulfilled one of her life-long goals... move to acreage with her horses. You can often find her curled up with her laptop and a cup of tea or glass of wine, creating her next adventure. Charlie enjoys exploring the mountains of her new Oregon home on horseback, 4-wheeler, or motorcycle.
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