by Lee Colgin
Gianni coughed and sputtered, a crimson foam on his lips. It couldn’t have been much worse—until it was.
Two guards sauntered into the room.
22
Bad Odds
Franklin
“Need some help, boss?” the smaller of the guards asked, as if offering to put away groceries instead of taking out a rampaging slayer.
Good, let them underestimate me, thought Franklin. Slaying vampires was his job.
“I want them alive,” Oswald said, unfazed.
Gianni was on the ground holding his chest but otherwise seemed okay. Franklin would not abandon him. He eyed the old vampire as the guards, Bigs and Smalls, crept forward. If Gianni could keep Oswald distracted, he could take them out.
He dodged a blow from Oswald, quick on his feet and a stronger opponent than the vampire had expected. Franklin ducked past him and signaled to Gianni, pointing a thumb at Oswald. Gianni gave a short nod.
Bigs lumbered straight for him while Smalls held back, observing. While captive, Franklin had had time to analyze the guards’ movements and pick apart their personalities. Bigs resented having to care for a prisoner, especially a human slayer. He would be overconfident and eager for the chance to take on Franklin.
Franklin came at Bigs with a telegraphed uppercut, leaving his side wide open. Bigs took the bait, going for an easy punch to the ribs. Franklin spun, ducked, and took out his legs with a round kick.
Bigs was down!
Franklin risked a quick glance backward. Gianni was pinned to the wall by his throat.
Smalls watched Gianni struggle, grinning and not paying attention to Franklin.
Bigs tried to clamber back to his feet, but a swift knee to the chin sent him sprawling. Franklin plunged the stake through the vampire’s heart and pulled it out again, dripping with blood. Bigs died with a loud grunt.
One down.
Smalls rounded on him.
Smalls would be tougher. Franklin guessed they shared a similar fighting style, quick and clean. One mistake, and Smalls would have him. Franklin rolled his shoulders, keeping loose as the smaller guard began to close in.
Gianni was squealing, but Franklin had to trust him. He’d said Oswald wouldn’t kill him; he’d better be right.
The guard struck past his defense, direct to Franklin’s kidneys.
Pain spiked. Franklin used it to channel his focus. He slashed out with the stake but missed his target, slicing a gash across the collarbone instead of into the vampire’s heart.
First blood to Franklin.
After two weeks in a cage, he itched for this fight. He’d lost some muscle mass and, with it, some power, but his speed and agility weren’t affected.
With a yell, Franklin darted forward, throwing a punch. Smalls blocked, but Franklin anticipated it, stepping forward and kneeing the vampire in the groin.
Smalls was stunned long enough to leave himself open.
Bones crunched as Franklin slammed the stake brutally through the heart.
Two down.
One to go.
Franklin spun. His lover was pinned against a wall, crying out in anguish.
Oswald’s back was turned, and Franklin went for the kill, aiming the stake to pierce the heart from behind.
So fast Franklin could hardly see it, the older vampire turned, caught Franklin’s wrist, and squeezed, forcing his hand open. The stake fell.
Behind him, Gianni sank to the floor.
Shit.
Wrist trapped in place, he used Oswald’s hold as a counterbalance to kick. The vampire dodged and bent Franklin in half with a tug, landing a savage blow to Franklin’s lower back.
Franklin dropped to his hands and knees, gasping. He braced himself, muscles rigid, anticipating a blow that did not come. Lifting his head and rising back to his feet, he only had a second to regroup.
Oswald had taken hold of Gianni by his biceps.
Franklin took a running leap and plowed into Oswald’s side. The sovereign crashed into an end table with such force the top split in two with a loud crack.
Franklin grabbed Gianni by the waist. “Run!” He pushed Gianni toward the staircase and dashed after him. Maybe they could get outside. They sped up the last flight to the ground floor.
Oswald followed in a flash of movement—impossibly fast, dashing Franklin’s hope of a quick escape. He flung Franklin to the side, an effortless gesture leaving Franklin crumpled against a window.
Dark. It was dark out already. Even if they did get out, Oswald could follow. Ignoring his pain, Franklin heard Gianni’s cries. It was time to end this.
The sovereign twisted Gianni in his grip like a rag doll, clutching him to his chest with a gleaming knife held to the smaller vampire’s throat.
“He thinks I won’t kill him, but what do you think, slayer?” Oswald asked through bared fangs. “Are you willing to take that risk?”
Gianni’s neck bled freely. The brute had bitten him again, and the blade threatened further damage. Despite the injuries, Gianni’s eyes blazed with defiance. He stared directly at Franklin.
“He won’t kill me.” Gianni gave the slightest of nods in Franklin’s direction.
Franklin prepared to attack.
Gianni turned bravely into the knife, slashing his own skin and biting ruthlessly through Oswald’s wrist.
The larger vampire shouted and dropped the blade as Gianni spit a chunk of his flesh to the ground. Blood gushed from the wound. Gianni had severed a main artery and was grabbing the flailing forearm for another bite.
“Dig the hole deeper, strumpet,” Oswald barked. “You’ll be sure to regret it.”
Franklin surged forward, knocking all three of them to the ground.
Knees on Oswald’s chest, Franklin punched the vampire with one hand while digging for his pocket knife with the other. Gianni drank deeply from Oswald’s wrist, his mouth covered in red. Blood pooled around them.
Oswald let out a howl and flung them both away from him in opposite directions.
Gianni grabbed the stake from the floor. To give him an opening, Franklin dove for Oswald and plunged the little knife into his eye.
The sovereign lashed out at Franklin, forcing his head to the side and going for his throat.
Even as fangs pierced his flesh, Franklin aimed for the jugular. Maybe Gianni could finish the job.
His throat ached where Oswald’s vicious teeth held him in place. The vampire grabbed his stabbing hand and forced it backward. He lost the knife, but the damage had been done.
Oswald was now bleeding from three places.
Gianni was on them in a flash, yelling as he slammed the stake through Oswald’s back—but he missed the heart.
Oswald ripped his fangs from Franklin’s neck and spun around. “You will pay for your betrayal!” He took Gianni by the neck again, lifting the little vampire off his feet.
Franklin surged for the fallen stake. Movement outside the window caught his eye.
Hunters. A full squadron. Moving in fast.
“The Scourge! They’re raiding!” Franklin yelled. He had to get Gianni out.
Gianni’s feet dangled in the air. There was no way he could breathe.
It was now or never.
With one last lunge, Franklin landed a fearsome strike while Oswald’s attention was on the window. Ribs snapped as Franklin thrust deep, bruising his fist with the impact.
Oswald fell with a high-pitched whine, clutching the stake protruding from his chest. No way to know if it had hit its mark. They had to get out now.
“Gianni…” Oswald cried.
Gianni was on the ground in a heap, staring at the fallen vampire. Franklin scooped his trembling lover into his arms. “Is there another way out? They’ll have us surrounded.”
Shouts sounded from outside the house. The troops were closing in.
“Back door.” Gianni pointed.
Franklin sprinted down a hall and through a dining room, holding Gianni close.
“I can run. Put me down.”
Franklin set him on his feet and rushed to unlock the door. “Check the window.”
“It’s no good—they’re in the back too. This way, hurry.” Gianni blazed down the hallway back to the stairs.
Oswald lay in an expanding puddle of his own blood.
They tore past him and flew up the stairs just as the Scourge’s men kicked in the door.
“You sure about this?” Franklin asked, racing up the stairs behind him.
The troops’ footfalls pounded through the house and into the stairwell—down instead of up.
“Oz owns the next house. They’re row houses; these two connect.” Gianni dashed through a corridor into the neighboring house.
Franklin followed at his heels, down another set of steps to the ground level and a side door.
Gianni flung it open to an alleyway, and they made a break for it.
“You okay?” Franklin asked, flying down the city streets in Gianni’s monster of a van. His heart beat wildly, adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Gianni gasped for air in the passenger seat and nodded, his hand clamped over the bleeding bite wounds on his neck. “Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he dead?”
“I don’t know. I may have missed his heart.”
“The Scourge will kill him,” Gianni murmured.
Probably. Or maybe they’d take him prisoner. “We need to pull over somewhere and check your wounds.”
“And yours.”
Franklin drove another mile before stopping on the highway entrance ramp. Flashers on, they climbed into the back to patch each other up.
“Come here. Yours are easy. Let me.” Gianni tugged him in, and Franklin went. Gianni licked at his throat, long broad swipes, closing the wounds and lapping up the blood from his skin.
“I wish I could do the same for you.” Franklin assessed Gianni’s wounds. The vampire’s neck and chest were covered in blood.
“I’ll be all right.” Gianni produced a first aid kit. “Clean me off and check to see if the bleeding has stopped.”
Franklin used alcohol on a cloth to wipe Gianni’s neck and shoulders. His flesh was littered in bite marks and a nasty cut from the silver knife. Oswald’s attacks had been savage. Blood still oozed from the wounds but didn’t flow.
While Franklin worked, Gianni dug through the kit. He pressed a tube of skin glue into Franklin’s hand. “This will help. Hurry, I want to put more distance between us and them.”
Franklin covered Gianni’s torn skin with the smelly liquid.
“Good enough.” Gianni took the tube from him and capped it.
Franklin watched Gianni closely. His movements had become sluggish; his eyes were dull. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Will you be okay?”
Gianni locked eyes with Franklin and nodded. “He’s left me bleeding for hours before, and I didn’t die.”
Franklin wanted to stab Oswald all over again.
23
Like a Dog
Gianni
While the van headed west out of Pennsylvania, Gianni sat shivering in the passenger seat. It was probably shock. He took deep breaths and waited for it to pass.
Franklin drove, pointing them toward the mountains of West Virginia where they’d hide out until they healed. One task remained, and as much as he’d rather press on, it needed to happen before they went any farther.
“Franklin…in the basement… Why did you tell me it wasn’t safe at Oswald’s?”
The slayer took a deep breath before he answered. “You’re going to hate this. I hate this, but I don’t see another way.”
“Don’t stall, just tell me.” Gianni had figured it out on his own, but they had to address it together.
“I have the Scourge’s GPS tracking chip—”
“So ditch it.”
“—embedded in the back of my neck. I’m going to have to get you to safety, then keep going. It isn’t safe for you to be with me. They’ll come for us. They want you.”
“What the fuck?” The Scourge was seriously on his shit list. “They put a chip in your back like a dog? That didn’t ring any alarm bells?”
“It’s standard procedure. We all have one.”
“You aren’t making it sound better. Pull over.”
Franklin turned down a side street, an expression of misery on his face. “I’ll leave you now if that’s what you want, but are you sure you’re safe to drive? You look pretty out of it.”
“I feel pretty out of it.” The van stopped. “I just got you—I’m not giving you up. Get in the back. I’m going to take it out.”
Franklin’s eyes grew wide. “I’m not sure where it is or how deep.” He was already moving out of the driver’s seat and crawling into the cargo section.
“I’ll find it.” Gianni followed him back to the mattress he’d stashed there. “I’ll get it out, and whatever damage I cause, I’ll heal with my blood. If you can take the pain, it’ll be over in a few minutes, and we’ll be free of them.”
“You’re too weak to give me your blood now,” Franklin protested. “It’s dangerous.”
“It’s not. I’ll be fine. I gorged myself on Oswald’s. We have hours before the cravings start. More on that later. I’m strong enough to help you now.” Gianni pushed on Franklin’s shoulders until he sat, then climbed into position behind him, fingering his neck. “I don’t see a scar. Where do you think it is? Your best guess.”
Franklin indicated his upper back, to the left of his spine. “Somewhere in there is where it went in, but they can drift. Could be anywhere.”
“It’ll be there,” Gianni said, pressing into the flesh, feeling for anything foreign. No luck. “Take your shirt off.”
Franklin peeled the disgusting garment away to reveal the mostly clean skin beneath. Gianni straddled his legs on the outside of Franklin’s hips and wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him in place. Leaning in, he licked the area with a broad swipe of his tongue. The mild numbing effect of his saliva would only work on the skin, but Gianni might have to bite deep into muscle. There would be pain.
“You ready?”
“Yeah, do it.”
Gianni slipped his fangs into the flesh. Blood pooled in his mouth, and though it was as divine as he remembered, he resolutely ignored the taste. He closed his eyes, feeling for the chip.
Nothing.
Gianni retracted his fangs and ventured in again, slightly further down. This time, Franklin flinched. It would need to be a grid search. One bite at a time.
Gianni’s fangs sank in. Still nothing. He pressed deeper. No chip. He released Franklin and licked the blood away. Lower, he bit again.
Franklin whimpered, and his muscles flexed in protest under Gianni’s teeth. The longer this went on, the more it would hurt.
Gianni changed tactics. While he angled his fangs, searching for the chip, he also pressed his groin to Franklin’s ass and used his grip to pull their bodies tight together. His fingers found Franklin’s nipple and teased it to hardness. Gianni retracted his fangs.
“So good for me, baby,” he crooned into Franklin’s ear, licking the rim. “Just a bit longer.” Gianni lapped the blood from the punctures. “Can you take it for me?”
“Jesus,” Franklin cursed, his hands gripping Gianni’s thighs. “Yeah, I’m okay. Keep going.”
Gianni tweaked his other nipple and pressed his teeth firmly in once more.
Franklin moaned.
Gianni probed, but felt only flesh. Damn. Franklin’s blood dripped down his back. Gianni gathered it on his tongue, swallowed, and tried again.
Nothing.
One hand continued to fondle Franklin’s nipple while the other cast downward to palm his dick. At least in this he was confident. He could make it good for Franklin.
“Fuck. Gianni, yes.” Franklin was hard and straining against his pants.
“Pull out your cock,” Gianni murmured into his ear. “I need it.”
W
hile Franklin unfastened his pants, Gianni started again from the top. Franklin didn’t react to the bite, too busy freeing his dick for Gianni’s hand.
No chip.
He bit again into Franklin’s shoulder and stroked the length of him with his hand. Another try. Gianni’s teeth parted skin, wet and bloody; Franklin’s taste stoked his appetite. Gianni was hard against Franklin’s lower back and pressed against him.
His tooth struck something hard and mobile, which definitely felt as though it didn’t belong there. Finally!
With a bruising grip on Franklin’s dick to distract him, Gianni brought his blunt lower teeth to meet his fangs, cutting through muscle and closing in over the chip. Squeezing tightly, he grasped and yanked it from Franklin’s back, fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
Franklin gasped, and a wail escaped his throat.
Gianni spat the chip on the floor.
“Sorry, sorry,” Gianni soothed. He swiped his thumb over Franklin’s slit and gave the head a gentle squeeze. “It’s out.”
“Thank god. Uh, yeah, like that,” Franklin gasped and pushed himself harder into Gianni’s hand.
“We should get rid of it.”
“Don’t stop.” Franklin squeezed Gianni’s thighs and tipped his head back.
“I won’t.” Gianni lapped the blood from Franklin’s back, closing the wounds while he freed his own cock from its restraint.
“Get your pants down,” Gianni ordered.
Franklin braced himself on one arm and tugged his pants over his ass with the other until they were trapped around his thighs. They settled back into place, Gianni’s erection trapped firmly between them and pressed against Franklin’s lower back.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes,” Franklin breathed, voice shaky. “Better than okay.”
“Good.”
They moved against each other, Franklin fucking Gianni’s fist, Gianni working his hips against Franklin’s backside, leaking cum between them.
Franklin reached behind to cradle Gianni’s head in his hand. He twisted around for a kiss. Their lips met, tongues seeking, Franklin licking his own blood from Gianni’s teeth.