§§§§
Malcolm sat on his sofa, an open book on the seat beside him. Through the unshaded window, he’d been enjoying the lights flying by in the darkness as the train raced along. The night was much more interesting than the book about the American SEAL team he’d been reading. Hearing a knock on his door, he stiffened, vigilant on the instant. Alex would have called if he were the one rapping.
He approached the door and stood to one side in case a bullet ripped through it. Being shot wasn’t a biggie because he could usually heal. But it would take time, and that would be annoying because of the job he had to do. “Who is it?”
“Nick. I’m here to turn down your bed for the night.”
Interesting. You were supposed to attend to that while we were in the lounge car.
Curious, Malcolm opened the door a crack and confirmed Nick was the one standing there. He held a tray that seemed to have a bottle on it, but the bottle was covered with a white linen cloth. What appeared to be a small chocolate candy wrapped in gold foil lay on the tray beside it. Malcolm, alert to any sign of danger, stepped aside as Nick entered and locked the door behind him.
Nick set the tray on the small table beside the window. “Would you like this shade drawn?”
“No, thank you. I enjoy the night.”
Nick’s smile was lazy, knowing. “I’m sure you do.” He lifted the cloth with a small flourish, revealing a bottle of synthetic blood. “I’m also sure you’re not interested in the chocolate I brought for your bed. The blood is the universal donor type because I wasn’t aware of yours.” His expression had changed to one of satisfaction. As if he’d done a good thing.
“What is this?” Malcolm asked. Although he knew what was in the bottle, he was wary. That was best if you admitted guests bearing gifts—possibly poisonous gifts—to your room. Especially guests who locked the door after entering.
Nick stood with his feet planted slightly apart, hands on his hips. His smile filled his entire face and his blond hair gleamed in the soft light. Malcolm sensed no threat from him, but he didn’t have Alex’s gift for knowing danger was coming before it presented itself.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Malcolm drew his brows together and shook his head. When Nick had first introduced himself, he’d thought he should know something about him, but if he did, it hadn’t surfaced yet. “I’m not sure. Do I? The old brain synapses don’t fire as fast as they used to when I was younger.” In that moment, he felt dull-headed and all too aware of the hint of silver at his temples and his middle-age paunch in the presence of this model of a younger man with his narrow hips, tight ass and flat belly.
“New Orleans…four years ago. The Midnight Vampire Ball?”
Memories of heat, earsplitting rock ‘n’ roll, a kaleidoscope of colors, scents and drunken revelry flooded in. “Oh, glory, yes! You were dressed in a full Venezian masquerade costume that really turned me on—all black and gold and sexy. And…and you thought I was masquerading as the vampire Lestat.” He burst out laughing so hard he had to sit.
Nick’s laughter rang out with his. “Even the ball’s famous founder thought you and your friend were in costume. Doesn’t believe the undead she writes fiction about are real.” He sat, his thigh warm against the length of Malcolm’s.
He’d said “your friend,” meaning Alexandros. The one everyone found enthralling, the one females and males alike panted after, while Malcolm stood aside and marveled at how the Greek drew people to him without even trying. Now, the memory that he’d been the one Nick had wanted, not Nicolaides, came to him. Satisfaction raced through him.
As Nick’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners and gazed into his, lust flared hot and heavy in Malcolm’s groin. It had been the same when Nick had introduced himself at the ball, his voice muted through the opening in the mouth of his full mask.
Earlier that night four years ago, Malcolm and Alex, thirst screaming in their throats, had gone out looking for blood and sex. They’d quenched their thirst on the most expensive synthetic kind in The Ruby Red, a secret backstreet club catering to the undead. As soon as they’d entered, a young vampire had offered to let Alex drink from him for money, but Alex had thrust him away, a look of disgust on his face.
Malcolm had recoiled when approached, too, with a hurried, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Maybe someday there’ll be vaccines for the living dead against HIV and the hepatitis viruses,” Alex had muttered under his breath to Malcolm. “Until then, I don’t intend to risk it.”
“Neither do I,” Malcolm had agreed. The thought of living for eternity sick, grindingly weak and in pain held no appeal for him. Ending his undead existence would be preferable.
And yet now—staring at the thigh covered in blue and warm against his leg tonight—he wondered if he’d even given that a passing thought when two hours later Nick had introduced himself. They’d danced and talked about many things, while Nick had sipped a gin and tonic. Malcolm had felt drawn to this man. Without warning, lust had shocked them with its instantaneous, flaring heat, and Nick had taken his hand, leading him from the dance floor to a dark corner where they’d slaked their need to satisfy their swollen, raging cocks. Nick was the one who’d excused himself to the restroom and returned to produce condoms, even though Malcolm and Alexandros had come looking for sex and should have been prepared.
Now, Nick slid his fingers down Malcolm’s thigh, and Malcolm closed his eyes as tingling spread from there to his balls and groin, creeping upward and downward until his breath was too tight in his chest. It was a familiar feeling—something about this young man made his senses sing, made him feel alive. It had been the same at the ball.
He said, “You had one of those costumes that drew in at the waist and ended like a skirt just above your groin. Your bulge was so big I thought you were wearing a codpiece. I was almost afraid to touch you there. Imagine my surprise to discover that was all you. Boy, was it all you.” Malcolm reached over Nick’s arm and rested his hand on Nick’s nearest thigh.
Nick squeezed Malcolm’s leg. “Didn’t want to wear a codpiece. The butt plug I was wearing pushed my cock out more than usual.”
“That’s why you excused yourself to the can?”
Nick nodded. “I removed it so there would only be me there for you.”
“I thought you were buying condoms from a machine.” Malcolm’s laugh was lighter this time.
“I’d brought condoms with me. It can sometimes be that kind of affair. In costumes, it’s easy to hook up with someone incognito and never see them again.”
“Yes. I know,” Malcolm said, just as Nick leaned in and slid his lips over Malcolm’s, igniting desire…hot and searing.
Malcolm withdrew his hand from Nick’s thigh and put it behind Nick’s head to pull him close.
When they broke their kiss, Nick, a little breathless, said, “It’s the same as it was then, isn’t it? The heat, the need. I wanted to see you again. To get to know you. That’s why I gave you my number, but you never called, and I had no way of finding you. Until my vacation was over, I even hung around some of the old cemeteries at night, but you were never there. I didn’t see a single vampire or a demon. Not even the ghost of Marie Laveau, the queen of voodoo.”
Laveau’s crypt was in the same burial grounds where the Louisiana undead held their business meetings in another crypt. Malcolm withdrew his hand and shuddered. “Don’t ever try that again. If you’d encountered one of my kind, you wouldn’t be here to find me now. You’d be drained of your blood and fish bait in the Mississippi River.”
Nick slowly unbuttoned Malcolm’s shirt. “But I didn’t and I’m here, wanting to know why you didn’t call. I’ve thought maybe it was something I said or did. Or maybe you didn’t like my junk.”
“Oh, I liked your junk very much,” Malcolm said, as he felt a weakening of his knees at the memory of the weight of Nick’s balls in his hands and the hot, velvety skin of his cock.
But Ni
ck had reached the buttons over his stomach, and Malcolm stilled the clever fingers. He couldn’t hide the faint silvering at his temples, but he wanted to keep the paunch declaring his age covered, and his thirst was rising as he smelled the pulsing blood in Nick’s neck, in his throbbing cock. He remembered the same insatiable need with Nick at the ball and how hard he’d fought not to use his fangs and sip. Despite his age, and the control he’d developed over the years, he’d been terrified he might not be able to overcome that need.
He said, “I wanted to see you again, but you were too young. I’m old, and something you are not.”
“I’m older now,” Nick replied. “And you’re the same. I know your friend’s friend is human, and I’d lay money on what they’re doing right now in the next cabin.”
Giving up on Malcolm’s shirt, Nick shrugged off his jacket and pulled his shirt out from his waistband, then his deft fingers sent buttons through holes. Standing, he drew his shirt off, letting it drop to the floor on top of his jacket.
The pain in Malcolm’s heavy cock grew unbearable as he watched Nick undo his belt and zipper, then shove down his pants and briefs.
Nick stood there, exposed from neck to calves. “Well, do you like what you see?”
Malcolm was speechless. He’d never seen him naked. It had been dark in that corner of the ball almost four years ago where they’d fucked so furtively, climaxed so fast and deliciously. Now, memories of what they’d shared that night coupled with the sight of what he was offering flooded Malcolm’s vision.
Nick’s hand closed on his thick cock and pumped. His voice was rough and husky. “Want what you see?”
For the tiniest of moments, Malcolm hesitated. He was on the job, working. This wasn’t something he should be doing. Then he thought of Alexandros and Dante together in the suite next door and all his inhibition fled. With his gaze fastened on Nick’s blue eyes, he walked to him and knelt. As he closed his hands on the smooth, firm buttocks, Nick guided his wet cock to Malcolm’s waiting mouth.
Malcolm looked at the engorged organ whose coursing blood hammered in his eardrums like a timpani being struck. The aroma of copper, mingled with the particular sweetness that was Nick, flared his nostrils and made his blood sing. The desire to clamp down, to suck and suck until his roaring thirst had been satisfied was overwhelming.
Oh, God, I’ll drain him. He choked out, “No!” as he rose and backed away.
Humiliation wracked Nick’s face. His erection began to waver and he bent to retrieve his briefs.
Malcolm understood immediately. Nick had exposed himself, made himself vulnerable, and it seemed like Malcolm was rejecting him.
More than anything, he wanted to reassure him. Most of all, he could not lose him. “We…I…it’s your blood. It’s strong and draws me to it in a quite savage way, I’m afraid. I don’t want to hurt you. I need to get used to its scent so I don’t lose control.”
To his relief, Nick’s face relaxed, as he said, “It was only hands in New Orleans, wasn’t it?”
Malcolm closed in on him as he pushed Nick’s briefs to the floor again. “Yes, it was.” As he angled in to capture Nick’s mouth, he wrapped his hand around the flagging cock and began a slow caress with thumb and fingers.
§§§§
In the main cabin next door, against a backdrop of running water, Alexandros studied the map to their destinations. Through the window, spots of lights from the cities flew past in the velvet night. It was a sight that always comforted him.
Dante had changed into sleepwear bottoms with stripes of brown and gold. He was brushing his teeth. Hearing him rinse and spit, Alex could tell he’d finished that task and turned to washing his hands and face. The sound of the water stopped, and Alex could now see him drying with a white, fluffy towel because Dante had stepped back from the sink. Watching his human lover—seeing how he moved and what he did, the expressions on his face, marveling that he was his man—brought him great pleasure. But tonight it was important to memorize the map, and so, instead of sprawling out on the bed as his man undressed and prepared for the night, he was here learning the layout of this remarkable city of cities.
Dante appeared in the doorway connecting the two cabins, pulling his sleepwear top over his head. That amused Alex. He must’ve realized he’d be next to a cold vampire in a cramped bed tonight.
He patted the spot next to him on the sofa. “Since you have been here before, please make sure I marked the route correctly. I would like to deliver these gems as soon as possible.”
“We’ll all feel better when they’re gone. Then we can relax a day or two and enjoy the sights before we pick up the next delivery.” Leaning over the map spread out on the table, Dante erased one area penciled in by Alex. “Our room is here, on the Grand Canal, not this smaller side waterway. We’ll take a private water taxi there. They’re pricey, but with the two of you on board, I think that’s the best choice.”
A small craft on water. The thought jarred, and he froze. Neither he nor Malcolm could swim. They’d sink like marble to the bottom of the sea.
His expression of fear must have given him away. Maybe he’d grown even whiter than his usual undead pallor. Dante, his voice alive with teasing laughter, said, “You can fly, Alexandros. You can both fly. As for that, you could save yourselves, me, and the gondolier, too.”
Alex sat back and ran his hands over his face. “Sorry. I was fearless in the speedboat on the Bay of Naples, wasn’t I? But the thought of being in a narrow, small boat almost at water level seemed different. I suddenly felt vulnerable.”
Releasing the map, Dante turned and pressed his lips lightly over Alex’s. “You’re the most powerful being I’ve ever known. You can allow yourself a little weakness.”
Alex usually braided the hair on either side of his forehead and caught it up with a golden clip. Reaching behind Alex’s head, Dante released it and finger combed the freed braids.
Alex refused to cut his blond hair because it would never grow longer. He had no problem with the long strands from his temples that fell below his shoulders, but braiding the hair above them was a practical way to keep his hair out of his eyes. When they had sex, Dante sometimes wanted Alex on top, with the braids loosened and the silken fall of his hair curtaining their faces in their private world.
A tide of love and lust swept in at Dante’s touch. Alex stood. Sliding his arms beneath Dante’s knees and across his back, he carried him to bed. His growl was lighthearted as he deposited him there, nipping at his lips as he rose above him, but Dante responded with a groan, pushing his sleepwear pants to his ankles and reaching for Alex.
Alex stripped. Straddling Dante, Alex captured his mouth and plundered it with his tongue, as Dante swiveled beneath him in an attempt to get closer. Alex reached between them, taking both of their cocks in his hand and began stroking faster and faster. Just as the impending crest of his orgasm announced itself, Dante tore his mouth free.
Rolling his head to one side, he bared his throat. “Bite me.”
His voice was so raspy Alex almost couldn’t hear him, but when he looked at the pulsing artery and smelled its scent, his fangs shot out and he struck with controlled ease. He sucked in a blood so full, rich and wild he might have taken it all, but he would never end the life of anything he loved. When the ecstasy of their climaxes had finished rocking them, he withdrew and licked the pinpoints where his fangs had pricked. His saliva would heal them.
Dante was already asleep, and Alex covered him with the blankets and then slipped out of bed to review the map again. He watched the lights slide by in the black night, listened to the chatter of the wheels on the rails and enjoyed the slight sway of the older train, but his thoughts were on his major concern. Except for the fleeting moment when he’d gone rigid as Alex had announced that couriers with expensive, historic jewelry were being killed, Dante wasn’t taking the threat to himself as a courier seriously. So far, the biggest crimes in Venice had been picking someone’s pocket, but that only
made Alex wary.
Damn Hank for soft peddling the danger Dante could be in. He assumed Malcolm and I would always be with him, but he doesn’t know Dante as I do; doesn’t know he might get it into his head to do something that would put him in danger while Malcolm and I sleep.
Frustrated, Alexandros tightened his right hand into a fist, but restrained himself from slamming the small table because it would splinter into kindling.
After being with Alex this long, Dante had adjusted to staying up much of the night and sleeping later in the day, but he was still alone for several hours. Time enough for mischief, especially since he knew his way around this city built in a lagoon. Tomorrow, he must discuss this with Dante and obtain his word to keep himself safe and not take chances.
That decision made, he dressed in flannel nightwear to partially protect his partner from his icy body. After slipping beneath the covers, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
Chapter Four
After they’d recovered from their first sexual encounter that night, Malcolm didn’t flinch when Nick’s fingers started on the buttons of his shirt and his kisses followed across his muscled chest.
“Your nipples are standing up like soldiers on a battlefield,” Nick murmured, before running his tongue over one. Clamping his mouth on it, he sucked hard and long.
Malcolm was too overwhelmed by sensation to comment.
When his last button gave way and the shirt slid over his shoulders and off his arms, he thought he wouldn’t survive the tingling jolt to his groin. The rough slide of cloth over his skin as his shirt was pulled free of his trousers triggered a moan of pleasure and an instant erection. Forgotten was any embarrassment he’d previously felt about his paunch. His mind filled with the feel of Nick’s hot mouth and soft lips as he kissed his way down Malcolm’s belly, stuck his tongue in his navel and almost ripped off the rest of his clothing.
This time it was Nick who knelt and, inch-by-inch, sucked Malcolm’s rock-hard cock into the flaming heat of his wet mouth. Malcolm closed his hands on Nick’s golden-haired head and held it steady as he pumped to his release.
Night Train to Venice Page 3