Black Market Blood

by Francis Gideon

  “You seem lost,” Sully said. “What are you thinking about?”

  “A lot of things, really.”

  “Not good ones, though.”

  “No. The case is still getting under my skin. I’ll have to go back to work soon. To return evidence. But I want to call in sick.”

  “You should call in sick. Spend more time with me. I’m not even close to done with you.” Sully smiled, but Chaz’s stomach still lurched.

  “I talked to Tabby, by the way. She gave me a sketch of a guy. I think he may have come to Artie’s.”

  “Yeah? Show me.” Sully set down the razor after rinsing it. He wasn’t done with Chaz’s face, but this was far more important. Chaz gestured to his jacket pocket and Sully pulled out the drawing Tabby had done. He stared at it for several moments, face twisted with thoughtful consideration.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him before.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah. But when did he come in? Why did he stand out to Tabby? He wasn’t violent, was he? Artie has a strict rule to report violent johns.”

  “No. But he only came in for blood. A lot of it. And left.”

  “I know who this is, then.” Sully closed his eyes tight, as if to conjure the face and meeting again. “Right. He was the guy who took me to the party.”

  “The party?”

  “Yeah. When you first met me. I had the blond-brown hair and the gray eyes. All contacts, all hair dye. He wanted that specifically, so we gave it to him. Very simple.”

  “Really?”

  “He didn’t do anything, though. Don’t get too worried.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We never had sex. He just wanted me as a date to this party at the bar, so I went with him and that was that.”

  “So he wanted you to look that way and that was what he paid for?”

  “Well, my time too. But yes, he was very, very specific. It was weird he wanted me to look a certain way, but from the amount he drank that night, I figured I was supposed to look like an old flame. Oh… oh shit.”

  “He wanted you to look like Nat.”

  Sully bit his lip as if he wanted to say something, then held back. Chaz’s mind was reeling. “Why was that guy at the bar? He wasn’t at the party, so…?”

  “He was at the conference. On infectious diseases? Oh shit. How the fuck didn’t I think about this until now? Nothing is ever coincidence. Goddammit.” Sully’s anger quelled when he looked at Chaz’s still half-finished face. “Crap. I’m sorry, let me finish—”

  “No. This is more important. Tell me anything else you remember about this guy.”

  “I remember the kind of car he drove. The interior was leather but white leather. Gold trim on some stuff. The car was black and four doors. I don’t know anything else to do with cars, but that’s gotta help, right?”

  “It does. Really. I’m going to interview you and get all of this down. Maybe even bring you in for a sketch artist too, though what Tabby has done is pretty good. Maybe I can track this guy down through his license, go back to the bar and look at security tapes. Maybe we’ve got him.”

  “Maybe. I didn’t think he was a vamp, but it could be him. Are you okay, though? I thought a breakthrough like this would make you happy.”

  “I’m… very worried about you. And Tabby.”

  “Don’t be,” Sully said. “I have the people at the house. And we’re all prepared. We all know.”

  “A tie on a doorknob or a talk about tennis isn’t going to stop anything from happening.”

  “Of course not,” Sully said, his voice thin. “But working together as a team will help. That’s why the houses are important. That’s why legalizing the trade is important, and studying the blood. We need to build community understanding.”

  “It sounds so nice, but kinda like a myth.”

  “And you know that myths are real now. I know it too. This is… the only chance I’ve seen of not repeating my past in a long, long time. I can’t let go of that. It’s all I have.”

  Chaz caught Sully’s eyes in the mirror. The soap on Chaz’s chin was melting against his skin and pooled in between his collarbones and white tank top. The sadness etched on Sully’s face was palpable. He had a family in the house, and Chaz understood that. He really did. But the time they’d spent together, like this, in close quarters… that was almost like a family too, right? They talked, they ate, they did things together. They went to a synagogue; that was something sacred, something real.

  “I… I don’t think we should have this conversation right now,” Sully said.

  “Why not? Your safety is important.”

  “And I’m safe here. People are safe at Artie’s. We can’t stop this crime singlehandedly and we can’t do it if we’re tired.” When Chaz didn’t budge, Sully said, “Oh, Atlas, Atlas. We can’t carry the world.”

  “But we can share it.”

  “I know. And we will. What do you think we’ve been doing the past few days? We work together. But I also work with others. We’ll find this random guy named Juan soon enough.”

  “He had a name?”

  “Yeah, but Juan is the Latino version of John. I doubt it’s his real name.”

  “Fair.” Chaz nodded. More shaving cream dropped onto his tank top.

  “And yet another reason why we can’t have this talk right now. You’re almost done. Sit down again.” Sully picked up the razor and dragged it along Chaz’s skin. It was rougher now without the excess shaving cream. Sully noticed and mumbled an apology. He worked slower, with careful precision. He dabbed a towel around Chaz’s chin and was surprised when he came away with blood.

  “Shit. I’m sorry. I thought I was careful.”

  “It’s nothing. A spot.” Chaz watched as the rosy hue bloomed against his skin and then stained the toilet paper Sully held there. Sully seemed fascinated but pulled away as if he’d struck fire—as if he’d come across the same thought Chaz had at the exact same moment.

  If we were both vampires, we’d be a family. We would be in one another’s blood. No matter what, for better or for worse, we would always have that marker in our bloodline. The thought was more intoxicating than sex, than love, than anything Chaz had ever experienced—and it was so dangerous that he knew he needed to put it away. Even if Sully consented, it was still too much for him to do. No one should have the burden of change; if Chaz had learned anything from the court system when he was arrested and in Divine Interventions, it was that.

  “You’re done,” Sully said. “I can clean up in here.”

  “Thank you. But don’t worry about it right now.”

  Chaz stood from the chair and wiped away the remaining water and hair. The small wound on his cheek had stopped bleeding. It would soon scab over, and though Chaz’s skin felt tight, it would pass. He looked at Sully and caught the same look of desire in his gaze. He reached out and touched Sully’s chin, his lips, which Sully curled.

  “I can’t,” Sully said.

  “I know. But I’m not asking that.”

  “What are you asking?”

  “Come to bed with me?”

  Sully smiled. “I can do that. That’s easy.”

  Chaz grasped the back of Sully’s neck and pulled him close for a kiss. Their tongues met right away, sharp and fierce. Sully smelled like hair product and shaving cream and sugar from the coffee he’d had at Artie’s. He was a complex array of sensations that Chaz wanted to drink up. Chaz wanted him to stay this way, in this perfect vision of what it was to be a human and to struggle to keep that humanity in a world of both humans and monsters who wanted to take it from people at every corner. Sully opened up to Chaz, showing his vulnerabilities, even though it had nearly gotten him killed in the past. And why? Chaz asked, struggling to find an answer. Why was Chaz worthy of so much? They hadn’t paid one another. They weren’t doing anything like that.

  So maybe it was something else. Something that ran deeper than blood or money. Chaz held on to that though
t as he held on to Sully. Sully lifted Chaz’s tank top over his stomach and ribs, getting it stuck at the junction of their necks and hands. They refused to break the kiss for some time.

  “We need to actually go to the bedroom,” Sully said, “if you want to take me to bed.”

  “We could stay in here.” Chaz’s gaze went to the mirror. He thought of the first night at Sully’s place, watching Sully’s hole pucker in the reflection. He gripped Sully’s arm harder, and Sully shuddered.

  Chaz knew that was a yes.

  They removed the chair from the center of the bathroom, along with their clothing. Chaz slid his hands over Sully’s ass as he discarded his pants, massaging and touching every bit of spare skin he could find. The medicine cabinet held most of the materials they needed, down to lube and condoms. Once Sully tore his lips away from Chaz’s neck, he followed Chaz’s grunted instructions to find the condoms and lube. He dumped them on the counter, then leaned over the Formica and spread his legs for Chaz.

  The small nips from Chaz’s teeth—his human teeth—against Sully’s skin marked him with roselike shapes. He was perfect, immaculate, and these marks were the only ones Chaz was allowed to leave. It was all he wanted, and all he could do.

  Chaz took a moment to marvel at the rest of Sully’s naked body, presented just for him. They’d always been so rushed, so busy before, that he couldn’t look and appreciate. Each notch on his spine was like porcelain. He was small but not frail. Sex workers were fighters, stronger than anything, Chaz realized. He kept that strength in mind as he slipped his hand between Sully’s legs and felt his length and hardness. Small mewls of pleasure escaped Sully’s mouth. Sully writhed in Chaz’s hand, allowing himself to be touched. Chaz appreciated these moments like the gifts they were.

  “Please, stop teasing,” Sully begged. “I can feel you against my thigh and want you deeper.”

  “I’m not teasing. I’m appreciating.”

  Sully laughed. Chaz felt the low chuckle roll through him. Sully hitched his hips up so Chaz’s cock would run against his ass. Wet with precome, it glided easily without ever going inside.

  “Come on,” Sully said. “Please.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Please, please, please,” Sully said it like a song. “Chaz Solomon, please.”

  Chaz had it then. He squeezed the lube in his palms, coated his fingers, and explored. He started with two fingers and scissored. Sully grasped the edge of the counter and bit his lip, leaving it swollen. Chaz added a third finger and thrust deep inside to the rhythm of Sully’s moans.

  “Please, now,” Sully begged. “I can’t last much longer.”

  Chaz slipped a condom over his cock and lined up to Sully’s hole as it puckered around him. Chaz slid into him and kept his vision trained on Sully’s face in the mirror. His jaw tightened in pain, and then a smile slowly spread as Chaz rested for a moment. Sully craned his neck back when he appeared comfortable and caught Chaz’s gaze in the mirror. He seemed caught off guard at first, then smiled coyly.

  “Come on, then. Show me.”

  Chaz slipped out and then back in. His thrusts were shallow, gentle, to be sure Sully could take all of him. Sully bit his lip again, but it looked like it was in pleasure and not pain. His cock was hard, and though not visible at the mirror’s height, Chaz could see the redness of the tip against the counter as Sully touched himself. Chaz thrust a little harder, a little more aggressive. Sully gasped and moaned through his teeth.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Sully said as Chaz picked up his pace. “Just like that.”

  Chaz lost himself in his own desire. He splayed his hands over Sully’s hips, his lower back, and angled himself so he could thrust deeper inside him. Sully moaned in tandem with Chaz’s movements. He encouraged Chaz to go harder and faster with each breath and met his thrusts with his hips.

  When Sully’s face twisted in apparent anguish, Chaz almost stopped—until he saw Sully come across the counter. Sully arched his back with a low growl and smile. The shape of his shoulders, combined with his moans, were enough to bring Chaz over the edge. He came with one last hip snap. Sully seemed to notice, because he kept saying his name, like a prayer or a song.

  “Chaz Solomon, Chaz Solomon. Fuck, I love you, Chaz Solomon.”

  Over and over again, Chaz heard his name and the declaration. He didn’t know what to do or say, so he craned Sully’s neck back to kiss him. Hard, then softer as his body calmed down. He kissed Sully’s mouth and neck, hovering his teeth over where he could change both of them forever.

  Then he pulled away. He took off the condom and started to clean up with the towels, wiping off sweat and come. When Sully came up behind him, still naked, and peppered kisses along his back, Chaz paused. Sully’s tongue traced the shell of his ear, a question there, a question Chaz didn’t know how to answer.

  “You up for cake?”

  Chaz laughed. It hadn’t been what he expected, but it was one he could answer. “Yeah. For sure.”

  “Naked cake?” Sully clarified.

  “Oh, definitely.”

  Sully took Chaz’s hands in his and pressed their lips together. Everything, at least for the rest of the night, made sense.

  Part Four: Saint Therese

  Chapter 34

  SULLY SIPPED his coffee and glanced out the café window. The sky was thick with rain clouds, making the 3:00 p.m. afternoon sun disappear in the skyline. September was shaping up to be a crueler month than April, full of rainstorms and tattered hopes.

  Sully made a face. What the fuck am I even thinking about? He sipped his coffee again and turned to the novel of The Night Walkers. He’d thought he’d be more excited to open this up and finally start translating it, but nothing seemed to hold his interest. After leaving Chaz this morning, so he could bring in evidence to work and probably go back to the investigation, Sully had stopped by the house. Cecil had had some really loud rock music blasting through his speakers, making it impossible to concentrate. Trina kept texting him too, asking for constant updates about “his boy.” Not having a good answer for her questions, Sully had said fuck it and grabbed his book and his red leather jacket and went out to the café around the block. So what if it was in close proximity to Reggie’s and the church, where Chaz and Sully had worked together, and things felt right? It didn’t mean anything at all.

  Sully read a line. He translated the verb, then worked backward from there. Since he had mostly been dealing with Czech because of the case, the switch back to Slovak took a long time and he made several mistakes before he closed the book in frustration. His phone buzzed with another message from Trina asking him about the “deets” of the weekend.

  There was no getting around it: Sully missed Chaz. He hated that when Chaz left this morning, in his standard-issue trench coat and gun holster, that he hadn’t asked Sully to come. There wasn’t even a promise of coming back or bringing Sully in to translate more. The translations were already complete. Sully was done, used up. That was that.

  And you said you loved him, Sully reminded himself over and over again. You said you loved him and then he just left.

  Sully sighed. He raked his fingers through his hair. This was really why he was mad. He’d finally made some kind of human connection with someone, said “I love you” for the first time in decades and meant it, and the guy still walked away like it was an exchange. Sully knew it would happen, and yet he was still surprised. He should have learned his lesson before, but of course, he hadn’t. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me….

  Sully rose and dumped the rest of his coffee in the garbage. Thinking that heading home now would allow him to beat the rainstorm that was about to fall, he packed up his stuff and used the bathroom. When he stepped out into the foyer, he froze.

  A man and a woman were at the counter. She was short with wide hips and hair pulled back in braids. She wore a red skirt that hung to just below her knees and a red jacket that matched. Her husband—Sully knew from the way they stood next to
one another—was tall and elegant. He wore a casual charcoal suit with a tiepin that reflected what little sunlight made it through the café windows. His hair was white and wiry, and he wore bifocals at the very edge of his nose. Everything about them was so innocent or innocuous; just random people in the city of Toronto. But seeing them stand together, Sully knew it was them.

  Chaz’s parents.

  He recognized bits and pieces of their faces, their mannerisms, and the accented way the woman spoke some words. These were the parents who kicked Chaz out after he became a vampire and was sentenced to a treatment facility. These were the same people, Sully was sure of it. Chaz’s distraction around this area of the city made even more sense now too. His parents must live here. They got coffee here. Chaz couldn’t bear being so close to someone who pushed him so far away.

  The woman’s gaze flicked up from the barista and landed on Sully. He turned away, pretending to adjust his bag. What should he do? What could he do? Introduce himself and say, I had sex with your son last night and he didn’t turn me into a vampire. He’s not a mean person. He’s flawed, sure, but who the hell isn’t flawed by the time they reach twenty? Thirty? Twelve? Everyone’s got fucking baggage. It doesn’t mean you kick them out.

  Sully went over to the napkin dispenser and took out a couple. He pretended to wipe down a stain on the area and waited for Chaz’s parents to get their coffee. When they turned to head out the door, Sully turned and nearly bumped into them.

  “Oops! I’m so sorry.” Sully reached out and touched the man’s arm. They both seemed startled, but neither one of them dropped their coffee—which had been what Sully was depending on. Dropping coffee meant he could buy them another and start up a conversation. He’d done it with a million potential johns or when trying to get information about Artie’s underground system. Without an in like that, Sully was forced to play his hand too soon.

  “It’s all right,” the man said. “No harm, no foul.”

  “Yes, I suppose so… but if you’ll forgive me for asking, you look very familiar.”