Life After Humanity

by Gillian St. Kevern

  Nate squeezed his hand and stood. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

  As Nate nudged Ben forward into the Ikea’s toilets, he gave the stalls a quick scan to check for feet. Nothing. They were entirely alone, and to make sure they stayed that way, Nate stuck the ‘cleaning in progress sign’ on the door before he closed it.

  “What are we doing here?” Ben gave Nate a nonplussed look. He turned, catching sight of the mirror and froze.

  “I noticed you flinch,” Nate said gently. “Mirrors still give you problems, huh?”

  For a moment, he thought Ben might deny it, but then his shoulders sagged. “It doesn’t matter how many times I see myself in one, it just doesn’t seem real. I keep thinking that my reflection won’t be there, and someone will realize—realize I’m faking it.”

  Nate put his hand on Ben’s shoulder, steering him toward the mirror. “The best way to deal with fear is to face it. Keep your eyes on the glass.” He planted a kiss to Ben’s neck, peeling his jacket off.

  “What—are you doing?” Ben tensed.

  Nate planted a second soft kiss, putting his hands on Ben’s hips before he replied. “I figured that maybe you wouldn’t have such a hard time with mirrors if we gave you some positive associations.” He began to work his way down Ben’s neck toward his shoulder.

  Ben squirmed in his touch but—Nate noticed with triumph—made no attempt to free himself. “What if someone comes in?”

  “Then it’s their fault for not obeying the cleaning sign.” Nate looped one arm comfortably around Ben’s torso, inviting him to lean against Nate. His other hand stroked the bare skin beneath Ben’s T-shirt.

  Ben shivered. “You’ve got an answer for everything.” His eyes fell half shut.

  “I try.” Nate glanced at the mirror and saw that a flush was spreading across Ben’s cheeks. He wasn’t surprised—his own skin was on fire. The thrill of holding Ben after so long at arm’s length was playing havoc with his senses.

  And I’m not the only one. As Nate watched, Ben’s body quivered. Repressing the urge to do what exactly? Nate nuzzled Ben’s neck, before dropping his mouth to Ben’s skin again. This time, Ben couldn’t resist the urge to thrust his hips toward Nate’s roving hand. “Nate—”

  Nate’s hips jerked in automatic response to Ben’s breathless whisper. “Open your eyes.”

  Ben shook his head. “It’s better with them closed. I don’t—don’t need the reminder—”

  Nate’s fingers paused on Ben’s fly. He could feel heat beneath the denim and knew Ben longed for his touch. “Reminder?”

  Mortification flooded Ben’s cheeks. He squirmed, and this time it wasn’t in pleasure. “I look so—dead. Like I crawled out of a coffin to get here.”

  Nate felt his heart constrict painfully. It was no good saying that some people found the fresh-out-of-the-coffin look really attractive. “Nothing wrong with your pulse at any rate.” He pressed another kiss to Ben’s neck. “Look at yourself now. No one could accuse you of being pale or emotionless.”

  Ben’s eyes snapped open. He gulped at his reflection, raising one hand to his cheek as if he needed the reassurance that what he saw was real.

  I can see it—but can he? Ben’s complexion wasn’t merely flushed. His eyes shone darkly, the pupils expanded. To Nate, he looked like perfection, but he cast a worried look at himself in the mirror. Next to Ben, his natural tan looked as garish as if it had come straight out of a fake-tan bottle. He took a step back, not wanting the contrast to overshadow Ben’s view, but Ben’s fingers gripped his arm, stopping him from moving.

  “This is all you.” Ben swallowed. His fingers stroked Nate’s skin. “Your effect on me—”

  “You don’t see yourself with your guard down.” Nate leaned against Ben, wrapping his arms around him. “This is the Ben I see.”

  Ben shut his eyes. “I want so much to believe you.” His body arched as Nate’s hand continued to stroke his trapped erection.

  “I’m not making this up.” Nate watched Ben’s mouth fall open in a silent gasp, always mindful of their location and the need to be careful. “I didn’t fall for Ben the vampire. I fell in love with you—” Nate bit down on his tongue. Was using the l-word a mistake?

  Ben went very still.

  I’ve gone too far. Nate knew he should step back and release Ben, but he couldn’t make his arms obey. He could only wait for the rejection he knew was coming, as Ben turned his back on the mirror, taking Nate by his shoulders.

  “Kiss me.” There was a breathless note in Ben’s voice.

  For a moment, Nate didn’t think he’d heard correctly. And then with a rush of elation, he pressed his mouth to Ben’s.

  Ben draped his arms over Nate’s shoulders, devoting himself to the kiss. And the next. Nate tasted faint traces of toothpaste—had Ben hoped their date might go in this direction?—and felt the mixture of control tinged with abandon that was all Ben. His erection pulsed painfully, drawing his attention to its trapped state—and calling Nate’s attention to the state of Ben’s need.

  He unbuttoned Ben’s fly, easing his erection out of his jeans. He broke the kiss, only to lift Ben by the hips, placing him on the countertop. Nate took a moment to study him, flushed with need, his cock a bold rejection of any claims that Ben was not alive.

  “Nate—” Taking him by the collar, Ben pulled him back to his lips.

  He’d wanted to take Ben’s cock in his mouth, but there was a special pleasure in giving Ben what he wanted. Nate continued to kiss him, matching Ben’s leisurely pace, as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft. He stroked him slowly, echoing the rhythm of their mouths. He felt Ben gasp, knew the moment when his need reached the point of no return. And he gloried in it all. He slowed his hand, trying to make the moment last, but with his fingers gripping Nate’s shoulders, Ben came.

  They didn’t speak afterward. Nate listened to Ben’s breathing even out, as he tidied him up. He couldn’t resist using his mouth to catch the drips adhering to Ben’s cock and got a breathy hum that made his whole body tingle for his pains.

  “You—” Ben started.

  A blaring phone alarm interrupted them.

  “Shit.” Nate dug his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the alert. “That’s my ‘time to leave for work’ alarm.”

  Ben made no effort to move. “You don’t want to be late again.”

  “Hey, if you discount necromancers, I’m a model employee.”

  “And werewolves?” Ben’s eyes creased with amusement.

  With his cheeks flushed and his eyes still dark, Nate thought he’d never looked better. “Um—” Denise wouldn’t mind if he was a little late, right?

  But as if reading his thoughts, Ben slid off the counter. “Come and see me after work.” His breathing hadn’t quite returned to normal, and there was a haste to his words that underscored his message. “We can continue this—” His gaze dropped to the bulge in Nate’s jeans. “—conversation then.”

  Nate swallowed. Work was going to be difficult.

  STANDING IN THE corridor outside the manager’s office, Nate took a deep breath. He’d been back in the office many times to speak to the interim managers and he’d been fine—so there was no need to feel like he was in danger. They’d done a thorough cleaning of the office, and no traces of the necromancer’s manipulations remained. He raised his hand to the door, steeling himself to knock—

  “Come in, Nathan.”

  Nate gulped. That’s new.

  He pushed open the door.

  Denise sat at the desk, her perfectly styled head bent over some paperwork. She finished whatever she was writing and then looked up. “Is this about last night? I trust that the community service Department Seven assigned you does not conflict with any of your duties here.”

  “No.” Nate shook his head. He made his way over to stand before the desk, fighting the urge to wipe his hands on his jeans. He was nervous enough without calling attention to it. “That was this morning—t
he first at any rate. It went okay.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Denise leaned back in her chair, considering him. She’d switched out her usual suit and skirt combo for a sleek green dress in a shade of emerald.

  Nate stared at her with a sense of despair. What did you say to the woman whose death you were partially responsible for?

  Denise’s eyes narrowed. “Any sympathy you may want to express is entirely misplaced. You don’t run a business in this industry on sentiment. Escorts face a greater risk of violence and death than any other profession in this city, and although we do what we can to protect our workers and ourselves, it’s always a possibility.” She flicked a piece of fluff off the sleeve of her dress. “When I was still on the floor, I decided to—let’s say, I took out some extra insurance. It paid off. That’s all.”

  Nate nodded. He had no idea what she implied, but Denise was still very much master of herself and everyone else. “I see.”

  “And I have to admit that the new form does come with some…interesting advantages.” Denise’s mouth curved.

  We are in so much trouble. Nate gulped.

  “If that’s all, Nathan?”

  Nate took an involuntary step toward the door. Only the thought of Ben, eyes screwed shut as he refused to look at his reflection, stopped him. “Actually, there was something else.” He turned heavily toward Denise. “I was wondering… How much of my indenture is left?” He flinched, expecting a reprimand.

  Instead, Denise studied him thoughtfully. “Are you unhappy with us, Nate?”

  “No! No. Um. It’s just—well, lately it has been harder to keep my mind on the job and well…”

  “And you are thinking of leaving us.” Denise rested her hands on the desk. “Mr. Hawick’s influence?”

  “He doesn’t know I’m thinking about this,” Nate said miserably. He had no idea what Ben would think of this move. “But…yeah. Since meeting him…well. My heart’s not in the game so much.”

  Denise sighed. “It happens to the best of us. Let me see…” She opened the laptop on her desk, typing in a command and scrolling through files until she found what she was looking for. “Nathan Granger… Assuming there are no further interruptions to your work schedule, you should be a free man in six months.”

  “Six months?” Nate echoed with dismay.

  “I hate to say it, but the episode with the necromancer tarnished your reputation. And your decision to be open about your supernatural status, while admirable, does affect your earnings ability—”

  “What if I take extra shifts?”

  Denise shook her head. “The rules limiting the hours you can work are designed for your protection. Working in this industry takes a toll on many levels.”

  “What about if I took on cleaning shifts?”

  “That’s a possibility.” Denise clicked to a new file and brought up a different spreadsheet. “Actually, one of our permanent cleaning staff is moving next week. Would you be interested in replacing Kathy in laundry?”

  “Totally,” Nate said. “Please.”

  Denise typed something into the computer. “I’ve added you to the roster. That brings your expected time of release down to three months.”

  “Thank you, Denise. I really appreciate this.”

  Denise closed the laptop. “Just make sure there are no further altercations with werewolves. Wisner is paying for last night’s damage, but if he wasn’t, it would be coming out of your paycheck.”

  “Trust me,” Nate said. “There will be no more altercations of any kind.”

  “I CANNOT BELIEVE you, Nate.” The roof was shadowed, but even in the dim light of the one fluorescent bulb, Aki’s displeasure was obvious. “As if saddling me with your embarrassingly boring pseudo-boyfriend wasn’t bad enough, now you want to abandon me.”

  “It’s not like that.” Aki was seated on a deck chair, and Nate carefully picked his way across the roof to join him. Maybe waiting until the end of the night to have this conversation had been a mistake. “You were working at Century before I showed up—and I seem to remember that you were pretty adamant back then that you didn’t need me hanging around, cramping your style.”

  Aki snorted. “I was mad at being saddled with the clueless country boy. I had to teach you everything you know—it’s only thanks to me that you even made a success of yourself here. And you want to throw it all away!”

  Nate, who remembered a very different version of events, stayed silent. He’d known Aki would be upset, but he hadn’t realized how upset.

  “All my hard work, wasted! And none of the newbies are any fun to hang out with. You give them a hint and they just stare at you. Ugh.” Nate tried to take Aki’s hand, but Aki wrested it away. “And what are you going to do instead? You don’t have any qualifications or job experience. I bet you haven’t thought about this at all.”

  Nate hadn’t. “I’ve got three months to figure it out.”

  “And if you can’t think of anything?”

  Nate winced. “I have to try. I mean, Ben—” He felt a shiver across his spine, a sudden awareness of the depths of the shadows around them.

  “Yes,” said a voice from somewhere above their heads. “Tell me about Ben.”

  Aki yelped, scrambling to his feet. Nate swore, pushing Aki behind him as a figure dropped from the roof of the doorway.

  “Hunter!”

  The vampire stepped into the light, the glow of the humming bulb catching his bared fangs perfectly. He moved with the sinuous grace of a snake, stalking toward them with complete assurance. The light and shadow made his habitual pallor look deliberate. Nate heard Aki moan and couldn’t blame him. Hunter was using every weapon he had—not the least of which was his extraordinarily provocative looks.

  We are so fucked. It wasn’t merely the threat Hunter posed, but being in the presence of a vampire of his power was a danger all in itself. Nate swallowed, concentrating on staying where he was and meeting Hunter’s gaze. He couldn’t repress a shudder.

  Hunter came to a halt. “Hello, Nate. You are a curiously hard man to track down, but as you can see, I managed to find you—as I find everyone I look for.” The sentence started urbane and ended with grim satisfaction.

  “What do you want?” Nate croaked. It was hard to form words—hard even to think—with Hunter’s air of decadence and power surrounding them.

  Hunter’s eyes flashed. “My brother.” There was no amusement in his voice, just the threat of a garrote drawing tight. “What have you done with Ben?”

  Nate’s heart rapidly accelerated, but his body was curiously slow to react. “Nothing.”

  “Come now.” Hunter’s smile was flat, his eyes unamused. “You can’t expect me to believe that. Be reasonable—I will find him, whether you help me willingly or not.”

  That was a definite threat. Nate forced himself to look not at Hunter’s eyes, or his teeth, but over his shoulder. “He doesn’t want to be found.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Hunter’s voice was abrupt. “We’re his family.”

  “Saltaire tried to kill him.” Nate croaked. Every second that passed made it harder to breathe. He could feel Aki, standing frozen behind him, but didn’t dare take his eyes off Hunter to see if he was all right. “You know what happened while you were in the vault?”

  Hunter’s lips pressed together thinly. “I do not. And I want Ben to tell me. You do not know our ways. You can’t make this decision for him.”

  Nate clenched his fists. “And if he’s made it himself?”

  Hunter raised his jaw, staring Nate down. His jaw clenched. “Nate. Tell me where Ben is.”

  The words were on his lips. Nate forced his mouth shut with difficulty. A voice whispered inside his head that there was no point in being so obstinate.

  Compulsion. Nate shut his eyes. It was the vampire’s greatest weapon—and one no human could resist. His body strained to take a step toward Hunter. His mind urged him to give in to the pressure he felt. But I’m not human.

&nb
sp; Nate imagined the acorn in his hand. He remembered its cool smoothness, and the tiny imperfections in its shell. He remembered standing with the tree it came from at his back, while revenants circled, unable to reach him and Ben under the tree’s protection. He imagined that same strength in his veins. Nate dug his roots in. “No.”

  There was a moment in which the only sound on the roof was Aki’s hastily indrawn breath.

  Hunter took a step forward. “Tell me—”

  “That’s not going to work anymore.” It was as if a fog was lifting. Nate’s thoughts came faster, the heaviness in his body melting away. Nate raised his hand to the button on his wristband that summoned security. “You can’t compel me.”

  Hunter’s eyes glittered darkly. “I asked you for the information freely first. You will regret not giving it to me—one way or another, I will find him, Nathan.”

  Nate took a step back, saw Hunter’s eyes follow him with predatory awareness. “You—”

  There was the rattle of footsteps on the stairs and the door to the roof was flung open. Security shone their flashlights on the scene. “What’s the situation?”

  Nate raised his hand to screen his eyes from the sudden glare. “He’s a vampire. Threatening me.”

  “Where?”

  Nate lowered his arm and glanced around. The security guards swung their flashlights over the roof, but the only thing they uncovered were the other deckchairs and the potted palm. Hunter had vanished.

  “He was here.” Nate turned to his friend. “Right Aki?”

  Aki didn’t immediately respond.

  Nate placed a hand on his shoulder. “Aki? Are you all right?”

  “All right is not the word.” Aki sucked in a deep breath. “Holy crap, Nate.”

  Nate winced. “I’m sorry you had to see that—”

  “Apologize for him? Never!” Aki shook his head, as if attempting to shake off his lethargy. “That is the sort of meeting you spend an entire lifetime waiting for!”

  Nate glanced at the security guards, who had stopped scanning the rooftop to watch. “Uh—”

  “Did you see his mouth? Like—that was indecent exposure right there. And all he did was lick his lips! And when he moved…” Aki raised a hand, as if hoping to find the appropriate adjective in the shadows.