“Good. Okay. Sorry to do double duty about this, but I needed to be sure.”
Sully closed the door. When Chip looked at him again, his gaze hurt less; it was warm, inviting. Chip apparently liked looking at him, at his slender hips and pale skin. He even seemed to like staring into his boring brown eyes. Sully was tempted to strip off his shirt and get right to business with his confidence now renewed, but he took a seat next to Chip on the bed. Better to ease into this for both of them, since it was as if they were meeting each other again.
“I have the blood.” Chip reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bag marked with Sully’s initials. “Artie said this was just for me, whenever I came, so I had to give you—or her—some warning. Is that right?”
“Yeah. I don’t exactly like my blood getting around. I like to be with the people when and if they drink.”
“Do you get asked for this a lot?”
“No, not really. Any vamp can come in and request me, but I don’t get many average people off the street looking for my blood, because it doesn’t have the same properties as the elementals or witches. You can’t get high off me, so what’s the point?”
Chip nodded along as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, but Sully already felt like a broken record, rehashing the same rules and considerations over and over again. “You know the rules for sex already, but I have some rules of my own when I give blood. Are you okay to hear them?”
“Yeah, that seems fair.”
“So, first is no drinking it like a Capri Sun. I’ve decided we should adhere to decorum.” Sully opened his drawer and took out two wineglasses. Chip furrowed his brow at the second one until Sully also brought out a juice box for himself. Chip’s grin split his face, and even though his eyes displayed some deep-seated tiredness, he played along with Sully’s need to add some normalcy to this act. Chip punctured the side of his blood bag and emptied it into the glass; Sully tore open the side of the juice box and poured it in the other.
“Grape? Really?” Chip said when he noticed the color. “You couldn’t find something like cherry?”
“It’s Trina’s fault. It’s all she could find and I can’t say I blame her for not wanting to spend all afternoon looking for the perfect blood substitute.” Sully shook the last bit of juice out. After he threw the garbage away, he held up his glass for a toast.
“What are we celebrating?” Chip asked. “Not that I mind.”
“You know what? I have no idea. Let’s keep it simple. To… cake?”
“To red velvet cake.”
They clinked their glasses together again and each took a long sip. The juice was so sweet it nearly knocked him off his feet. When his stomach churned, Sully realized he hadn’t eaten anything since before Reggie’s appointment, because he’d been too upset. Thinking of Reggie again got under his skin, making him remember the stupid incident, then the stain on the carpet. Wait. What if it was Trina and her grape juice box that made the stain? I bet—
“Hey.” Chip placed a hand on Sully’s knee. Sully didn’t mean to, but he flinched. Chip noticed right away and removed his hand like he’d touched fire. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, no, don’t apologize. I’m being ridiculous. Just hungry, you know. I haven’t really eaten since breakfast.”
“So eat. I’ll be doing this,” Chip said, gesturing to his blood. “I don’t mind.”
With a silent thanks, Sully opened his drawer and took out one of the chocolate bars and the remaining bag of Goldfish crackers. He devoured the chocolate bar and was at the crumbs of the Goldfish bag before his shaking hands calmed down. The Reggie incident still sat heavily on his chest, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe, but he hoped the sugar would distract his system. Or the sex. Sex was always good for a distraction.
“You should eat a real meal, you know,” Chip said. “Maybe you’ll be less shaky.”
“Coming from the person drinking blood and who probably hasn’t eaten a real meal in months? Maybe even years?”
“Hey now,” Chip said, his tone playful. “I do eat real-people food every so often. I like eating. Makes me feel human. And I’m actually a little blood-shy right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s strong. You’re human. And I haven’t feasted on human in a while.”
“I don’t understand the difference.”
“Well, I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask, but I know I can drink most other supernatural creatures’ blood and be okay. Except vamp. They’re sour, but everyone else is good and will sustain me. I tend to prefer supernatural blood since I know that even if I bite them, there’s no way I can transform them. There must be some antibodies in the blood that are similar enough to mine that makes them immune. And it must be similar enough, but not as strong as vamp blood, because if I gorge myself on too much creature blood, I will become sick. It’s a delicate balance between satisfaction and throwing up, honestly.”
“But humans?”
“I can transform humans. So that must mean that whatever makes me not drink too much of other creatures’ blood isn’t in humans’, because I can turn them, and it also makes your blood really, really rich.”
“Huh.” Sully considered that for a long moment. “So, I’m like butter and everyone else is margarine?”
Chip laughed, surprising Sully. “Sure, if you want to call it that. Basically, right now, I’m not used to the quality that I’m getting and I think I’m going to need to savor this.”
“Take as long as you need.”
“I think I may have to.”
Chip set aside the glass, only a quarter of it gone. Not even. Sully was surprised at how easily he discarded it. Sure, he could come back and finish it, but his response didn’t seem like the typical vamp either. He wasn’t crazed over the blood like a fiend. Sully had so often heard vamps described as addicts without a fix, that he’d drudged up the worst image of them. They were vain, they lied, and they were only out for themselves and looking for their next victims. Really it wasn’t much different than most infectious creatures or the worst humans who visited brothels. Sully certainly had enough images and customers who fit the mold, but Chip was breaking down every single one of those stereotypes.
“I’ve never met a vamp like you.”
“What do you mean? You must know some vamps if you know the sunlight rule.”
“That I do. There have been some here, but… they were hard cases. Unruly and brazen, so they were harder to handle. I think they just missed other vamps. Hard to get along here when you don’t feel like you belong,” Sully said. “Don’t most vamps like to live in dens because of that?”
“They do. Not all of them thrive there, though. It’s mostly a place to get blood and bicker.”
“Were you ever part of one?”
Chip shook his head, but there was something he wasn’t saying. Sully knew better than to push.
“Fatima was different,” Chip mentioned. “Whatever happened to her?”
“She left for another house, I’m pretty sure,” Sully said. He struggled to keep all the safe houses straight in his mind. “She didn’t work in the rooms here.”
“No?”
“No. She didn’t like that, but she was often a liaison with other people. Sometimes in the churches.”
“Really?” Chip considered this for a while after Sully nodded. “Makes sense. She saved my life.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I got back to Toronto, years ago, I was literally wandering around a drugstore, mad with sun-sickness. I hadn’t fed in a week and I’d been outside too much. She helped me find iron pills and told me to come here for blood.”
“That’s good, then. I’m glad she helped you.” Sully wanted to ask where he’d been before Toronto, but he took a drink of the juice. He wanted to ask Chip too many things. Knowing them would only make everything between them infinitely more complicated. I’m not attached, I’m not attached,
I’m not—
“You sure you’re okay? You seem a little, well, distant.” Chip gestured to the large space between their bodies and their partially empty glasses. “I appreciate your blood. But if it makes you uncomfortable to have me around afterward, we don’t have to do this. I can go, you know. You’ve given me more than enough.”
“No, please. Stay.” Sully wanted to say that Chip wasn’t giving him anything; he was a paying customer and they could do whatever they wanted. But the answer seemed so cheap now. A performance he wasn’t willing to give. “Maybe I shouldn’t have taken customers tonight. I don’t think I’m over this afternoon.”
“What happened? Can I ask?”
“Just a customer. You know, the price of doing business.”
Chip’s face became ashen.
“It’s not a big deal. Really. Don’t look at me in that tone of voice.”
“I can’t help it. Cop instincts.”
“Or vamp ones.” Sully shrugged. He should have left it at that, but he went to grab his glass to press to his lips and he caught Chip’s gaze. So earnest. So vulnerable. He didn’t want to be a vamp. He wanted to be a cop. A hero. Sully didn’t know if that was better or worse.
Chip closed some of the inches between their bodies, holding Sully’s wrist. “I know it may seem weird, but… I want to be sure you’re fine.”
“I am.”
“Still tell me?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Because it may be important for a case I’m working on.”
“The dead Cupid?”
“And now a dead vamp. A fellow sex worker or a person driving the boat that shipped him. We can’t tell if he’s a good or bad guy, except that he’s dead and the for sure bad guy is still out there.” Chip worried his lip. “I probably shouldn’t have told you any of that.”
“I shouldn’t tell you any of my thing. Maybe then we’ll be even.”
“Can we be?”
Sully wanted to lash out and say that they’d never be even, given how different they were, but he only sighed. After a moment of consideration, he closed his eyes. Reggie had stayed there, mute and immobile like a Polaroid on the back of his eyelids. What had that therapist Daphne told him when he was in high school? Tell the truth and it will set you free? It was a load of bullshit, especially because telling her about what his mother and father had been doing only got him further and further down the black hole of sin. It took him years, but Sully could understand Daphne had had a point, albeit a different one. The truth never set you free, but when you said the bad stuff aloud, the monsters took on shapes.
And that way you could fight them.
“So this is silly.”
“Probably not,” Chip countered.
“Shut up and drink your blood. Let me tell the story.”
Chip smiled but nodded and took his glass in his hand. His posture made him seem like he was too full, but he took a sip anyway.
“So I see a lot of guys. I probably don’t have as many regulars as some of the other people here since I’m human and can’t cater to as many high-paying fetishes, but I take a lot of walk-ins. Anyway I had been seeing this one guy. I thought he was good. Fun. Very bread-and-butter stuff. ‘Let me fuck you, maybe hold you down,’ but nothing kinky. Not at all. Which reminds me, actually—” Sully turned, opening his drawer again. He pulled out Chip’s belt, and with a seductive smile, handed it over. “For you.”
“Thanks,” Chip said, laughing. “But what’s the guy’s name?”
“I don’t know last names and the first could be fake.”
“Either way. What is it?”
“Reggie. So I see him today. Everything is fine. We finish and it’s good. Then… he took my picture.”
“With his cell phone?”
Sully clenched his jaw and nodded. “I know it’s silly, but I don’t like it when people take my photo without my permission. When I do the chat logs and talk to guys, like we did, sometimes I’ll offer pictures. I have no problem sharing them then. Sometimes I’ll do selfies or dick picks, whatever. I really don’t mind pictures.”
“But he took it without your permission.”
“Yes, he did,” Sully said, voice still tinged with pain. “I was getting dressed again and I just saw a flash and he was there, doing it. He told me to smile then he fucking did it again. I wanted to smash his goddamn phone.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Sully shrugged. “Why else? I was stunned. I couldn’t believe he was so rude about it. I’m… I’m usually on alert when I get a new client. I’m awake, watching. Then I start to let my guard down, but even then, it’s not much. I had seen Reggie two times before and he seemed fine. But I can’t stop replaying that hideous grin on his face when he told me to smile. I’m kicking myself for letting my guard down as much as I did.”
“Hey.” Chip reached out to touch Sully’s shoulder, but he pulled away before touching skin, as if he realized how vulnerable Sully still was. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to imply it was.”
“I know it’s not. I know you didn’t. But it still doesn’t help that that photo is out there now. And I have no control over it.”
Chip appeared to consider this fact for a while. When the silence only grew between them, Sully’s skin flushed. He wished he hadn’t brought Reggie up, because now, whatever happened between Chip and Sully tonight would be tinged with the same regret as Reggie’s encounter.
“What if I got the photo back for you?”
“What?” Sully laughed when he realized Chip was being serious. “It’s a little harder than that to get a picture back.”
“Maybe not. What kind of phone was it?”
“A fucking flip phone. So like, the photo quality is shit.”
“So a burner phone. Do you think he sent it to anyone? It sounded like he was taking trophies of his conquests if he was willing to take it on something with crappy pixels.”
“I wasn’t exactly reading the guy’s e-mail. But it’s possible he didn’t send it to anyone and only wanted to whack off to it later. Ugh.”
This time, Chip did squeeze his shoulder. Sully looped their hands together, wishing they could bypass this bullshit talking and just fuck already.
“So if I get his phone,” Chip said slowly, “then the photo is gone?”
“I doubt that. Photos that are in cyberspace are never gone.”
“But that’s only if he sent it. And I doubt a shitty flip phone has enough data to upload it. So, what if I got his phone for you?”
“Then good for you. I’d be happy. Is that what you want me to say?” Sully bit his lip, realizing he sounded harsh. He went to apologize, but Chip shook his head. Each time he inched closer, he lifted his brow in a silent question. May I come closer? Now? Yeah? Sully wanted to melt. He’d never been treated with so much concern. So many questions. It made his skin prickle from the memories of the times he’d said no and had it happen anyway. He’d stopped asking and stopped saying anything at all.
Like Reggie with the photo.
“So,” Chip said. “Can I ask you something weird?”
“You can ask always. But it doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
“Fair enough. I suppose I sound too much like a detective right now, but is the reason you don’t like your photo out there the same reason why you don’t normally give out blood?”
“I think so, yeah. I like to see who uses me.”
Chip nodded, though he seemed wounded by the wording. “And you’re okay with me doing so?”
“I know you. As well as I can. You could still do all the things I’m afraid of. But so could a random guy on the street. So could a million other people. I suppose I have to, at some point, stop policing everything. And I do that by making select decisions. Setting up boundaries. The blood is a new one. Who knows? Maybe I’ll let people take my photos again at random and it won’t freak me out.”
“Maybe. But you don’t have to. And thank you.”
�
�For what?”
“For trusting me, I guess. Because I like your blood. Is that weird to say?”
Sully shook his head. “Trust me, I’ve heard weirder.”
“I believe that.”
Chip took a sip, then set his glass down on the bedside table again. Sully followed with his own glass. When he thought he recognized the look in Chip’s eye, he shifted closer. Only a second passed before their lips met in a hot, near-frantic kiss. Sully was sure he could taste the bitter metallic tang of his own blood on Chip’s tongue, like the one time a john punched him in the face. For weeks, he’d spat his teeth out in his dreams. Soon the blood’s scent and taste mixed with the sweetness of grape. Chip placed his hands on Sully’s arms, soft but strong. He covered Sully, bringing their bodies close and sending Sully into shivers of desire.
Chip broke the embrace as he kissed down Sully’s jaw to his ear. He hovered there, breathing against the shell, before he asked, “I need you to be safe, okay? I need you to be safe here, in this house.”
“I’ve been doing this a long time. I’m fine.”
“I know you have. But there’s no shame in asking for help or protection either.”
Sully pulled back, examining Chip’s earnest expression. “Is there something else you’re talking about?”
“I’m worried that all these deaths lead to something much bigger.”
“Like what?”
“You ever hear of the Judge and the Flame?”
“The urban legend? The stuff the tabloids print? All that stuff’s fake.”
“It’s real, though. I found the files in the police department. And I knew him—the Flame. That’s… that’s who you look like. Who you did look like when you had the different hair.”
“Really?”
Chip nodded. It seemed hard for him to swallow. “I… was with him for a while. We were in love before he became the big legend he is now. You remember what the tabloids printed? The news on TV?”
Sully nodded, though he wasn’t exactly following current events religiously—more like sleeping and sleeping and watching daytime TV. Sometimes he saw people’s cell phone photos of the Judge. The Judge was a dragon avenging those he loved; his Flame, though, was apparently someone named Nat who Sully looked like for a hot second when his eyes were gray and his hair was blond.
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