by Lee Colgin
This evening, Oswald was being indulgent. Gianni had always liked this mood. He’d take advantage of it as long as it lasted. Later, he’d let the panic set in. Oswald had dangerous moods, and Gianni never had learned how to predict the doting boyfriend or manipulative sadist.
Gianni couldn’t stay, not indefinitely. Even if it was tempting at the moment, tucked next to the powerful vampire, knowing nothing could hurt him here except the vampire himself. But he couldn’t leave either, not while Franklin was still trapped in the basement. He might have been furious with Franklin for the betrayal, but he couldn’t leave the slayer to a slow, painful death at Oswald’s fickle mercy.
It was complicated. Oswald did save him, after all. Did that mean he owed the man now? How much was his tab, and what would settle the balance? Would Oswald let him leave without a fight?
The sovereign stirred beneath him, turning to place a kiss on Gianni’s forehead. “I can hear you thinking.”
Gianni snuggled closer. Despite his trepidation around Oswald, he couldn’t resist the support his body offered. It was a guilty comfort, but he’d take what he could get. “Can’t help it.”
“You never could, though it gets you into trouble.” Oswald’s hand drifted down Gianni’s naked spine. He’d ditched the prison clothes as soon as he was behind closed doors, and Oswald hadn’t given him anything to wear. Gianni wouldn’t ask. When it came to this man, nothing was free. He’d rather be naked than continue to accrue debt.
“I know it’s over, but I can’t stop thinking about it,” Gianni lied. Better Oswald think he had PTSD than know his mind was on the prisoner in their basement. “It’s like it’s still happening. The electric shocks and the scalpel.”
“Darling, I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. I rescued you, didn’t I? You’re safe with me.”
Safe with Oswald. Right. He knew better than to let the comment pass without acknowledgement. “Thank you.”
Oswald flipped them easily, pushing Gianni to his back and climbing over him, pinning him in with his body. He lifted one of Gianni’s injured arms and studied the damage.
“What has that slayer done to you, buttercup?”
“Franklin didn’t do this,” Gianni replied before it occurred to him he should have held his tongue.
“Franklin,” Oswald said slowly, menacingly, “put you in a cage and left you to die. I blame him for every mark on your precious body, even if you’re too stupid to realize it yourself.”
“I just meant the doctor physically did it, is all. Took blood, injected me with god knows what, then took my skin.” He shivered. He didn’t want to be talking about this.
“Here, lover, let me…” Oswald bent to lick the sores on his arms. His blood would help even more, but Gianni wouldn’t ask. He didn’t want it. When he broke free, the withdrawal wouldn’t be worth it.
Oswald moved from Gianni’s arm to his neck. The licks became kisses, and Gianni could feel Oswald hardening against his thigh. He didn’t want this either. Cuddling was one thing, sex was another, and he wasn’t interested.
“No.” Gianni pushed against the larger man’s chest. “Oswald, please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please get off me. I’m not ready for this.” The vampire stilled over him, fangs dangerously close to his carotid. It could go either way, and Gianni was at a loss as to how to tip the scales in his favor. “Please,” he whispered, sounding pathetic even to himself.
Oswald rolled off him. “Have it your way.” The vampire threw on his robe and headed for the door, probably to find someone else to fuck. “You need blood. I’ll send someone in.”
“Thank you.”
It wouldn’t be that easy next time.
19
Regrets
Franklin
Three miserable nights passed before Gianni came to see him. Franklin doubted the vampire would come at all, but each time he heard the door creak open, he couldn’t banish the hope it would be him.
Then, finally, it was.
There he stood at the top of the stairs, aloof and beautiful.
“Gianni,” Franklin said without thinking. The name flowed from his lips like a prayer.
“Buffy,” Gianni replied, eyes narrowed. “Or would you prefer Richard?” He descended the stairs but kept back, away from the bars.
“It’s Franklin. I’m sorry about that.”
“Oh, you’re sorry?” Gianni’s eyebrows lifted. “I guess that makes everything rosy between us. Shall we kiss and make up?”
Franklin stared at the floor. Gianni’s cold expression hurt too much.
“I guess not, then. Franklin must not be much of a kisser. Funny, I remember Richard was thorough in that pursuit.”
Franklin bit back the pain of Gianni’s icy needling, trying to focus on what he meant to accomplish—convincing Gianni to leave. Oswald was bad for him, and at some point, when the Scourge was good and ready, they’d attack this location. It could happen in days or in weeks, no way to know.
Franklin remembered what Oswald had ordered him to say, but surely he wasn’t meant to volunteer that information. Maybe Gianni wouldn’t ask, and he’d be let off the hook.
“Hmm, yes,” Gianni continued, “I thought you were quite electric in that department—kissing, that is—until I was actually electrocuted. It turns out kissing and electricity have nothing in common. Lucky for you these charming accommodations aren’t equipped with such a feature.”
Franklin winced. He deserved the lashing, but it didn’t make it any easier. This wasn’t like Gianni. “You sound like him.”
Gianni froze, mouth open. Fury and disbelief coalesced in his gaze. “Is that your piss I smell? How embarrassing for you.” Gianni wrapped his arms around himself, chin high, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me, how does it feel now that the tables have turned?”
Franklin saw through it all. The vampire was miserable, and he was hurting. This was Franklin’s fault; he had to make it right. “I deserve this for what I did to you. I’ll be sorry until the day I die. I never meant for any of this to happen—”
“Oh, shut up. Of course you did. It was your plan from the beginning. It’s on me for being stupid enough to fall for it, but if you think I’ll believe your lies a second time, you’re mistaken, Franklin.” He spit the name with venom.
“Gianni, no, I swear.” Franklin came right up to the bars and grabbed them so hard his knuckles went white. “I was going to tell you everything. I thought we had more time.”
“Then how the fuck did a dozen or so of your best mates come storming into our hotel room, huh? Better yet, explain the vial of my fucking blood in your pocket. Please. I’ll wait.”
Franklin was terrible with words. He longed to tell Gianni the whole story, but put on the spot like this, all he could do was stutter. “I…I was buying us time.”
“Oh right, that. You wanted to fuck me before handing me over, is that it? Now I understand. What’s a vial of blood between fuck buddies, eh?”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s coming out all wrong. I just thought—”
“Never mind.” Gianni laughed, but he looked pained. The combination haunted Franklin. “I came down here to see if you were okay. I’ve realized I don’t care.” He turned to go.
“Gianni, wait, please. It’s important.”
The vampire stopped with his back to Franklin. “Well? I’m waiting.”
“Look, you have to get out of here. It’s not safe.”
The strained laughter was back. Gianni spun round and strode to the bars, inches separating them. “Let me get this straight. You—who had me imprisoned, electrocuted, starved, and bled dry—now want me to believe you’re concerned for my safety?”
“Yes. Desperately so. Because it’s true.”
Gianni tilted his head, his hazel eyes angry but also curious. “What do you think you know?”
“I can’t say, but you have to get out. Gianni, I know you won’t believe me, but I love you. I never should have
lied to you. I’m not lying now.”
Silence. Gianni stepped back once. Twice. The vampire stared daggers at him, the ferocity practically tangible. His breath came fast.
Franklin had gotten to him.
Gianni softened an iota. “Franklin,” he said slowly, and without the sneer that had accompanied him to the cell. The familiar, curious expression Franklin had come to associate with Gianni was back. “Did you organize my rescue?”
Shit. Why did he have to ask? And now? Franklin had to give Gianni the sovereign’s answer, or Oswald would trap Gianni here—or worse. If Gianni had any chance at escaping the man’s clutches, Franklin would have to lie. Through clenched teeth, he forced out the words.
“They tortured me until I agreed to help you.”
“I see,” said Gianni as he left.
Gianni
He had to get away. Out of Oswald’s house, off his property, and far from his influence so he could think. Gianni grabbed a set of keys off the mantle and stormed outside. He pushed the unlock button to see which SUV would be his ticket out for the night, then made a beeline for the flashing headlights, started the engine, and got the hell out of dodge.
Damn Franklin.
The slayer knew something he wasn’t telling him. Again. And on top of it, he was definitely lying.
Of course Oswald had something to do with the lying. Who knew what the asshole had threatened. Gianni suspected Franklin was the engineer behind his escape, with Oswald swooping in to take the credit. Franklin’s bullshit admission of torture confirmed it. It was exactly like Oswald to manipulate the situation to meet his own ends. Trying to make sense of it all, Gianni drove toward the suburbs and out of the city.
Fuck. That had gone so wrong. Gianni’d had no intention of saying half the shit that came out of his mouth, most of which he’d regretted before leaving the basement. He’d been worried about Franklin and had strategically waited several days to see him so Oswald wouldn’t think it was important. Really, he wanted to scout the situation so he could begin planning a way to get them both out, but that wasn’t what happened.
Seeing Franklin brought with it the devastation of betrayal. Anger loosened his tongue, and nasty vitriol spilled from his mouth without his heart’s permission. Franklin made it so easy. Standing there dejected, taking everything Gianni threw at him like punches to the gut.
The things he’d said. Hateful things. Even if Gianni wanted to, he couldn’t hate Franklin. He cared too much. Franklin had been kind to him, protective up until he wasn’t, but if he was telling the truth, he hadn’t meant for Gianni to be hurt. And it didn’t help that the slayer was maddeningly handsome, despite the poor conditions of his captivity. A beard had begun to cover his cheeks. Gianni itched to touch it.
Franklin looked him in the eyes and said he loved him. What was Gianni supposed to do with that? It had been the truth, though it barely made sense.
Gianni needed a phone and an internet connection immediately. The only place he could think of at this time of night was a twenty-four-hour Walmart. He punched it into the SUV’s GPS. Oswald could track him, but he’d have to take the risk. He’d buy other things as well, frivolous trinkets to cover the shopping trip, and hope this was over and done with before the credit card bill exposed his sins.
Maybe Oswald wouldn’t notice.
Gianni tore through his bags in the brightly lit parking lot. He needed access to his own money and to move it to a safe location. He’d need new bank accounts that couldn’t be traced. When this was over, he and Franklin would have to disappear. Gianni would arrange to buy a car and supplies.
If he was lucky, it would only take a week. He didn’t want to think how long it might take if he wasn’t lucky. How long until whatever Franklin was worried about happened?
The more Gianni thought about it, the bigger the mystery became. Why would Franklin want Gianni to get out? Well, he wouldn’t want Oswald to fuck him. But there was more to it. Franklin wasn’t a jealous boyfriend. Gianni believed he cared for his safety.
Did the slayer think the Scourge would come for him, even after what Franklin had done?
If Gianni was right and Franklin had been the one to stage his rescue, it meant he’d betrayed them. They wouldn’t risk men to save a traitor. Even if they would, how would they know where Franklin was? Oswald was nothing if not paranoid about his privacy.
Gianni followed the GPS’s instructions back to Oswald’s house.
The GPS’s instructions…
The GPS!
Was Franklin wearing a GPS chip? He was still in his own clothing. Surely bugging was a possibility. Could the Scourge track him?
That would explain the men in their hotel room.
If Franklin was a traitor, the Scourge wouldn’t be coming to rescue him. They’d be coming to kill Oswald and any vampire left standing. That’s why Franklin wanted him gone.
Gianni cursed himself for waiting three nights. He’d wasted time and had no way to know how much they had left.
Fuck.
Back in the house, Oswald noticed his return and greeted him at the door, arms reaching for his bags. Gianni had pocketed the phone and thrown out the packaging. All that was left were scarves, purses, shoes, and snacks, things Oswald would expect him to buy anyway. He let the man take his bags.
“Did you have a nice shopping spree, pet?” Oswald set the bags on the hearth and took Gianni by the waist.
“Mmhmm, yes. I needed that.” Gianni kissed him because Oswald expected him to. “Thank you,” he mumbled against his lips and pulled away. “I got you something.”
“Oh, really. And what, pray tell, did you buy me with my own money?”
“Since when have you been stingy with money?” Gianni sorted the bags until he found what he was looking for. He hadn’t bought it for Oswald; he was improvising.
“I’m only teasing. You might have told me you were leaving—I’d have come with you.”
“I needed some time alone.” Gianni laced the emerald and gold scarf around Oswald’s neck. The green had reminded him of Franklin’s eyes. “You’ve never begrudged me that before.”
“And I wouldn’t now.” Oswald took Gianni’s hands in his. “Thank you for the scarf. It’s delightfully quaint.” The vampire kissed his fingers. “You went to see the slayer. What did he say to you?”
Of course Oswald would ask.
“Not much. Mostly I yelled at him until he confessed to helping rescue me only because you made him do it. Nothing I didn’t suspect. Let him rot down there.” Gianni draped his arms around Oswald’s shoulders and pressed their chests together. Couldn’t have the man thinking too hard on Gianni’s whereabouts. He would need a lot of leniency in the coming nights if his plan was to have any chance at success.
If Oswald needed some reassurance of Gianni’s loyalty, Gianni would have to convince him.
20
Packing
Franklin
Gianni’s words gnawed at his mind. Franklin replayed every nasty thing the vampire had said. He’d known Gianni would hate him for what he’d done, but hearing such venom slip smoothly from his lips had been harder to take than he’d imagined.
He deserved all of it and more. The realization of just how wrong he’d been about vampires hit him with a gut-churning wallop. The Scourge reduced vampires to parasites—mindless predators feeding off and killing innocent people for pleasure. It had been drilled into Franklin since childhood.
But Gianni wasn’t a monster. The vampire was kindhearted, vulnerable, and witty. He could love the same as any man. If Gianni was different, what did that mean about the others? Hayleigh was a caring individual. Her concern for Gianni moved her to provide instrumental help in his rescue.
How many innocent vampires had he slain?
How much of his life was a lie?
Then there was Oswald. That lying sack of shit was what the Scourge existed to exterminate. He needed slaying, and Franklin was the hunter that would do it. He’d rid Gianni of
Oswald’s bullshit forever.
Not that he could do anything from this cell.
The door creaked. Even though Franklin desperately hoped Gianni had heeded his warning, part of him still wanted to see the vampire at the top of the stairs.
No such luck. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Oswald descended the steps.
Franklin couldn’t stand the sight of him; he watched a bug on the wall instead.
“And how are we this fine evening?” Oswald said.
Franklin didn’t bother with an answer.
“Come now, don’t be rude. I came to deliver a reward.”
What the hell did he mean? “A reward for what?”
“Being a good little boy and confirming for Gianni who his hero really is.” Oswald spread his arms, palms up, as if speaking to a crowd and not a single, uncaring prisoner. “You must have been very convincing. My little bed-warmer’s been quite needy since visiting you.”
Damn it. Gianni hadn’t left yet. This was shit news. Then again, he couldn’t trust anything Oswald said; Gianni wouldn’t really go back to sleeping with him. Gianni might have hated Franklin, but he also hated Oswald.
“Bullshit. You’re not sleeping with him. Gianni’s moved on.”
“I wouldn’t want to believe it either if I were you. After all, you thought you were going steady, didn’t you? Gianni goes all sweet for you, lets you fuck him a bit, and suddenly you think he’s yours. But Gianni’s a wildcat in the sack. He needs more than one cock to fill him up. In fact, you should see him take three at once. It’s really a sight.” Oswald chuckled. “Maybe I’ll let you watch.”
“I don’t believe you,” Franklin barked, disgusted.
“Suit yourself.” Oswald gave a half shrug and came a step closer to the bars. “I shouldn’t let you have your reward after such behavior, but I know you miss him. And I can be generous.” The sovereign threw something into his cell. “Those should hold you over for a bit. He really filled them out nicely, just bursting at the seams. You can picture it during your free time.”