by Kim Dare
“Are you in love with him?”
Liam shook his head, taking the opportunity to rub his cheek against the other man’s hand at the same time. Any love he might have felt for Ralph had died a long time ago, but that didn’t mean he could just walk away.
“Does he have some sort of hold over you?”
Liam frowned slightly. He risked a glance up at Marcus’ face. “I don’t…”
“Is there some way he could make things difficult for you if you left him?” the vampire translated.
Liam shrugged. As if things wouldn’t be difficult enough once he was out on the streets without a penny to his name.
“Take some time to think about it,” Marcus ordered.
The other man fell silent. Liam couldn’t help but obey. Life without Ralph. Not having to worry every time he heard the front door open, not have to watch how much whiskey had been poured down his boyfriend’s throat just in case fists were about to fly.
Life without a front door between him and the world…
Liam closed his eyes for a moment. Not this time. Marcus was right. He couldn’t go back to him this time. “I’ll be fine,” he whispered.
The words didn’t come out strong and confident, the way he’d intended. They sounded more like a child whispering in the dark—a child who was too young to have real faith that the darkness around them would eventually pass and the sun would come up.
“Yes, you will.” Marcus sounded like someone who knew all about the dawn.
Liam glanced up at him once more. The vampire’s lips were curved into a slight smile. Liam smiled back at him, only to wince as the cut on his lip pulled painfully at the skin around it.
“How are you feeling?”
Liam pressed his fingers to his lips. There wasn’t any blood. That was good. “I’m fine.”
“The bite is wearing off.” It wasn’t a question; Liam didn’t bother to try to lie in response. Trying not to wince, he sat up and turned away, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the bed.
His head swam. It wasn’t the same as the first morning after a beating. It felt far more like he’d already had several days to heal, but it was still painful to move off the bed. A breeze caressed his back. Liam frowned as he reached behind him. The back of the hospital gown he’d been given didn’t quite meet. How could he have forgotten something like that!
He was flashing his bare arse at Marcus. Liam spun around. There wasn’t a window in the room, just the one door, and it was on the other side of Marcus. Liam took a step back, then another. Metal and plastic clattered to the floor as he reversed into the bedside cabinet.
Water cascaded onto his bare feet as the jug on the cabinet tipped over and the contents splashed off the edge of the shiny surface.
Liam jerked back again, crashing into a flimsy plastic chair.
“Liam!”
He turned back to Marcus, just in time to see the other man reach out toward him. Liam’s attention focused in on Marcus’ hand. It wasn’t shaped into a fist, but it didn’t need to be to give him the back hander he deserved.
“Liam, you’re okay.”
A click from the door had Liam turning his head toward it. The other guy, the butler—Jenson, stood in the doorway.
“Everything’s fine, Jenson. Close the door on your way out.”
The door clicked closed. They were once more left alone in the room.
“Look up. Look me in the eye.”
Liam stared down at his wet feet.
“If I have to get up and make you do as I say then…”
Liam knew what would come next. Knew he probably deserved the imminent beating for acting like such a complete idiot.
“…Then there’ll be two very dizzy men standing in the middle of the room. I’d rather we didn’t end up in a tangled heap on the floor again, if we can avoid it.”
The words shocked Liam into looking up and meeting Marcus’ eyes. When the vampire smiled at him, Liam managed a half smile back.
“Jenson said he brought some clothes for you.” Marcus waved a hand toward a bag placed in the corner of the room. “They’re probably in there.”
Liam sidled along to the bag, careful to keep the open back of his gown to the wall, and tentatively undid the zipper. There seemed to be at least half a dozen sets of clothes in there, everything from jeans and t-shirts to pajamas.
“If you’ll feel more comfortable dressed, put something on,” Marcus ordered.
The temptation was too great, the idea that Marcus might catch sight of any of the injuries that might be glimpsed through the gap in the back of the gown too horrifying.
Remaining facing Marcus, Liam pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms and tugged them on underneath the gown. The world was a far better place once his arse was covered up. It lulled him into a false sense of security. Liam pulled the gown off and tossed it aside, thinking of nothing other than how wonderful it was to be rid of it.
An indrawn breath from the other side of the room caught Liam’s attention; he looked down at his own body. Bruises had blossomed overnight. Liam ran his fingers very gently over the vivid purples and blacks.
Each mark was a memory. He only just stopped himself flinching from each blow all over again.
“Grab a t-shirt and come here.”
Liam found himself doing as the other man said without even a moment’s hesitation. Marcus took the T-shirt from Liam as he reached the edge of the bed, and tried to help him into it. He didn’t seem to have had a lot of experience assisting anyone with getting dressed. Liam was pretty sure that, injured or not, he could have done a quicker job by himself, but Marcus looked so pleased with his efforts when Liam’s face finally appeared over the top of the cotton, those kinds of facts became irrelevant.
“Thanks.”
Marcus nodded his satisfaction as he straightened up the T-shirt a little more. Tapping the bed, Marcus called him to sit on the mattress next to him.
“I should…” Liam waved toward the mess of water on the floor.
Marcus shook his head. “It’s not going anywhere.”
Liam looked over his shoulder. The puddle wasn’t spreading. It didn’t seem to be hurting anything.
“Come back to bed.”
There was only so much determination that could be directed toward mopping a floor, Liam gave in and climbed stiffly into the bed.
“The bite helped before it wore off?”
Liam nodded as he lay down and rested his head on the vampire’s shoulder once more.
He looked down at his wrist. There wasn’t a mark on it.
“It’s up to you,” Marcus whispered to him.
Liam didn’t even think about it before he found himself offering the other man his wrist.
Marcus cradled it gently in his hand as he brought it easily to his lips. The angle was different this time. Liam could see what was actually happening. He saw the flash of teeth before the other man’s fangs sliced into his skin.
A gasp escaped from Liam’s mouth as he felt Marcus’ lips caress the skin around the bite. The vampire’s tongue lapped against the wounds, driving little peaks of pleasure into his body as he encouraged the blood to seep more quickly into his mouth.
Liam closed his eyes and simply rested his head on the other man’s chest. Marcus’ other arm wrapped around Liam’s shoulders, gathering him safe and close as the ache slowly drained from Liam’s body.
Within what felt like moments, lack of pain had turned into real pleasure. Whatever blood wasn’t flowing out through Liam’s wrist, raced straight to his cock. He hardened, and there was no way to hide that fact while he was pressed tightly against the vampire’s side.
Liam tried to keep control of his body, but he couldn’t quite stop his hips from rocking or his cock rubbing against Marcus’ hip.
Whimpering gently, Liam turned his face into the other man’s shoulder. Biting down on his bottom lip, he kept his mouth shut, trying not to moan and groan, trying not to writhe.
He co
uldn’t remember the last time he’d felt pleasure like it. Part of him was sure he never had. Once upon a time, sex with Ralph had been something he looked forward to, but it had never been like this.
Images flashed through Liam’s mind, full of naked skin, muscles and long dark hair. Marcus looming over him, pinning him down against black silken sheets. Flickering lights surrounding them, highlighting high cheekbones and serious eyes.
Teeth flashed. The scent of blood filled the air, but for the first time Liam could remember, the smell of it didn’t scare him, it didn’t come with a wave of pain and nausea, it brought with it pleasure and the need to feel the other man’s skin against his own. Being trapped by Marcus didn’t feel scary, it felt safe.
While his mind was far, far away, in a world where there was no need for hospitals to exist, Liam felt his wrist being moved away from the other man’s mouth and guided to rest on his chest. Liam shook his head as he arched his body, pressing himself more firmly against Marcus’ side.
“More?” he asked, completely incapable of keeping the word back.
“Hush. Just rest.”
He shook his head, desperate to keep the same warm, contented feeling forever.
“It’ll do you more harm than good if I take any more from you now. We need to pace ourselves so you’ll be able to get more anesthetic when you need it.”
With just one last whimper of protest, Liam did as he was told. He closed his eyes and just let himself float on a little cloud of pretty pink bliss.
A gentle knock on the door half-roused Liam from his pleasant stupor. The butler guy was back. Liam peered at him through arousal addled eyes.
He was vaguely aware of the older man moving around the room. It took him a few seconds to realize that Jenson was cleaning up the mess he’d made. Liam tried to get up.
Marcus’ arm around his shoulder killed the idea in its tracks. “You need to rest after a feeding.”
“But…”
“No, buts,” Marcus corrected.
Liam tried to look over his shoulder. Marcus’ hand came to rest on the back of his head. The vampire clumsily patted his hair while he kept him exactly where he wanted him.
Marcus wanted Liam curled up against him. The thought damn near took Liam’s breath away. Even after the vampire had drunk his fill, he still wanted him there. Marcus wanted him. Liam smiled into the other man’s shoulder.
He couldn’t see what Jenson was doing. That meant it didn’t really matter. Liam let the clouds float back into his mind and block out any rays of worry. He didn’t chase them away until the other man left the room.
“Do you have any questions?” Marcus asked as he seemed to realize that Liam was back with him.
“You woke up because I kissed you?” Liam blurted out, as he lifted a hand and rubbed at his uninjured eye with his knuckles.
“Yes.”
Liam nodded, quite content to accept that as perfectly logical while the pleasure from the feeding still danced inside his veins.
“Anything else?” Marcus asked.
“Why did you fall asleep?” Liam asked, as he peered up at the vampire.
“Last night?” Marcus asked, smiling slightly, as if he thought Liam was being silly but was in a good enough mood to find that amusing rather than annoying. “Because I was tired. My body needed time to absorb the blood I took from you when I fed.”
Liam shook his head. “No. I meant before, when you went into a coma?”
Marcus tensed.
As easily as that, every bit of happiness vanished from Liam’s world. Tension rushed into him, chasing away all the pleasure that he’d found in Marcus’ arms. Liam lifted his head slightly. Marcus was angry with him. He’d learned to spot the signs of the guy he was with being pissed off with him. His survival had pretty much depended on it.
“It’s a long story,” Marcus said. “I’ll tell you another time.”
Liam nodded very quickly. The boat they were on didn’t need to be rocked. It was out at sea with waves tilting it and Liam didn’t even need to look overboard to know that there were sharks circling in the water around them.
No. Liam didn’t need to know anything at all. Pulling slightly away from Marcus, he sat up and pulled his knees up in front of him as he turned to look at the other man.
The vampire’s hair was spread out across the pillow. Liam’s fingers itched to reach out and touch it, but he wrapped his arms around his legs instead. There was no need to go out of his way to invite the other man’s anger. He was pretty sure he’d end up pissing off the other man easily enough even when he did his best. It was his one talent. He was really good at making guys want to swing for him.
As Marcus frowned, Liam forced a smile, hoping he might somehow be able to salvage the moment. As if everything really were as easy as that, Marcus smiled back.
A tap on the door caught both their attention.
“Come in,” Marcus called.
It was the butler again. “Your disappearance from your room seems to be causing quite a disturbance on the third floor, sir. When it is convenient, perhaps you would like to formally check out of the hospital?”
Marcus sat up with a sigh. “I’ll see to it now.” He seemed to move more easily than he had the day before, but he still allowed Jenson to help him into the wheelchair.
“You know where my room is,” Marcus reminded him. “I’ll speak to your doctor about releasing you today, but you’re not to leave the hospital without speaking to me.”
Liam nodded.
Marcus waited, apparently not completely satisfied by that.
“I won’t leave,” Liam promised.
One nod of acceptance and Marcus allowed Jenson to wheel him out of the room, leaving Liam all alone.
Chapter Seven
“May I inquire if Mr. Bates will require assistance to pack his bags?”
Marcus tore his gaze away from the scene beyond the hospital window. It wasn’t quite as he imagined the view to be, and it certainly didn’t overlook anything fascinating, but being able to stand and look out was still a novelty. “No,” Marcus said. “He doesn’t have anything to pack. Only those things you’ve brought to the hospital for him.”
“Very good, sir.” Jenson picked up Marcus’ own bag and turned toward the door.
Marcus remained by the window for a few extra seconds. It was strange that, after all the time when he’d longed to get out of the room, now that he was finally about to be released from the hospital, the will to make his way to the door had faded to almost nothing.
“I’m sure Mr. Bates will be looking forward to being discharged today, too,” Jenson observed.
“Yes,” Marcus agreed. Although probably not quite as much as Marcus was looking forward to being able to take the boy back to his own house. “His injuries have healed well.” The physical ones, at least. He was sure that none of the doctors had any idea how deep his mental wounds might go.
Marcus’ hand clenched into a fist at his side. The thin line of the scar on his index finger throbbed under the increased pressure. It did nothing to improve his mood.
“Your feeds can take most of the credit for that, I believe,” Jenson said.
“You really haven’t changed at all,” Marcus muttered, watching a young couple walk arm in arm along the other side of the street. “I can still hear the disapproval in your voice, as if I were seven years old and sneaking into Mrs. Jenson’s kitchen.”
“Yes, sir. And I expect my disapproval will have as little effect now as it did then,” Jenson observed.
Marcus smiled slightly as he refocused and stared at their reflections in the window glass rather than at the view beyond them. “Vampires aren’t designed to be nice, or obedient. We’re designed to own pets, not become them.”
“Yes, sir.”
His tone of voice might have sounded polite to anyone else, but Marcus knew better. The older man might as well have slapped him across the back of the head and told him to stop acting like a spoiled litt
le brat. Turning around, Marcus leaned back against the window sill, folded his arms across his chest and raised one eyebrow at his butler.
“Mr. Bates is somewhat different to the other…gentlemen you have brought home over the years,” Jenson mentioned.
“A fact I am well aware of.” Marcus was far better at hiding his emotions than any human could be. No hint of how he felt about Liam leaked into his words.
“Perhaps—”
But Marcus had already heard enough. “You’re forgetting the difference between us, Jenson,” he bit out, as he stepped away from the window and strode across the room. “You work for me, not the other way around.”
The butler didn’t blink, didn’t back down.
“You might not have changed over the last three years,” Marcus said. “But I have.” Or at least he hoped he had. If he hadn’t, Liam was going to be well and truly screwed.
Fueled by his first ever taste of righteous indignation, Marcus marched out of the door and along the corridor. He was vaguely aware of nurses turning to stare at him, but he paid no attention to that.
He kept moving, determined to keep up his momentum. Leaving the room had been far easier last time. Pushed along in the chair by Jenson, he hadn’t needed to maintain the will to place one foot in front of the other again and again. He’d been too focused on his need to ensure Liam’s safety to worry about how open and exposed the corridors seemed to be, how vulnerable he suddenly felt, without that damn hospital room surrounding him, standing between him and the rest of the world.
Reciting mental curses, half aimed at Theo, half at Ralph, Marcus continued to stubbornly stride forward. It seemed to require more and more effort to keep going as he slowly made his way along the corridors toward Liam’s room.
A rush of relief swept through Marcus when he saw the boy was still there. Liam sat on his bed, silently staring at the far wall of the room.
“Ready to go?” Marcus asked.
Liam nodded, not turning to face him.
“My car is waiting out front.”
Liam nodded once more. He still didn’t turn around.
Marcus stepped forward. About to reach out and put his hand on the other man’s shoulder, he stopped himself short. Two days might have passed, but Marcus hadn’t missed the way his prey still tensed every time a doctor examined his injuries. It was one thing for Liam to invite contact, quite another for Marcus to reach out to him when he’d received no such invitation.