by Joey W. Hill
“What world do you think you live in, Stanley?” Alistair demanded. His expression was deadly cold and calm, his eyes twin shards of ice.
“Same one I always have. Do what I got to do to survive. Vampire, human, don’t matter. Always the same. Always.”
Stanley raised his head when he said the words, and the glassy-eyed glare he gave Alistair had some surprising defiance to it. With a heavy helping of despair. He cringed as Alistair pulled his foot away, but only to crouch over the hapless male in a swift, angry movement.
“Maybe what never changes is you. Not the world.” Alistair shoved his knee into Stanley’s side as he seized his hair. “When did it happen? How did you let him get into your head? And when did you agree to hide it from me?”
He punctuated each question with a hard jab to Stanley’s face. Blood spurted. Nina was catapulted back to that underground drain, with Donovan slamming her head into the ladder, over and over. He hadn’t wanted anything from her, had merely wanted to send a message to Alistair, but here was more of the same. Always more of the same, hurting and killing, hurting and killing some more.
“For the love of God, stop, Alistair. Please. Stop.”
She couldn’t bear it. It was in the broken quality of her words, somewhere between a hoarse shout and a desolate scream. She didn’t expect it to get through. Like Stanley, she’d given up on the world being a place where people could change, but perhaps just like his defiant taunt, her scream was for her. A voice in the wilderness thrown out to ears that might hear.
Alistair’s head went up. The eyes he fastened upon her were still fierce with anger, but she felt the questing beneath it, him reaching out to her, to steady her. No words, just feelings, emotions. He could see in her mind, see the images of violence and death, and he had his own. Perhaps it was his reflection upon them both that pulled him back.
With a sound of disgust, he spat on the carpet next to Stanley, made him flinch again, but Alistair let him go and stood. Nero’s grip loosened, but Nina stood in place, staring at her vampire master. He wasn’t breathing or moving. He was a statue, his gaze fixed upon her.
She assumed and hoped looking at her, instead of the object of his displeasure, might calm him. Instead, gazing upon her recently damaged face seemed to be drawing the anger back to him, for the storm cloud of energy intensified once more.
If he went at Stanley again, she was certain Alistair would kill him. She could think of no other reason he’d sent the rest of the staff home and Nero had that executioner’s watchful look on his face. The most unlikely butler ever.
It was about her, she realized with a shock. What had been done to her. Even now, Alistair wouldn’t say that in front of another vampire, giving the whole lot more ammunition against him, but she saw it clearly in his eyes. And that was all that mattered, wasn’t it?
May I go to him, Master? See what I can do to help?
Alistair gave her a barely perceptible nod and turned back toward the window.
She moved swiftly to the other vampire, knelt beside him. Medically she didn’t know what needed to be done, if anything. She was certain Alistair wouldn’t allow her to give him blood. But she checked the break on the arm.
Because she’d been curious about their anatomy and extraordinary healing abilities, during the in-between times at the InhServ school, few though they were, she’d asked questions. Vampire bones tended to knit correctly, even if a bone was sticking through the skin, which this one fortunately was not, but trying to set it in place accelerated the healing process, made it somewhat more comfortable.
She could also maybe save the younger vampire’s life as she did it. After she sent Nero for her medical kit, she spoke in a calm voice. “Stanley, what happened?”
With a man’s embarrassment, Stanley swiped impatiently at the tears that were leaking out of his eyes.
“I didn’t think none of it. Nothing,” he said, his feverish gaze flickering up to a stone-faced Alistair who still wasn’t looking at him. “He just…he didn’t say nothing bad about you. Just wanted to shag a bit, and then he bit me while we was…you know. I didn’t realize he’d…that he’d marked me like a sire. I know it’s hard to miss, but he was pretty good timing-wise, and I guess it was lost in that moment, when he had me bucking under him. And I…
“And when he was digging into your brain to find out things about me, you didn’t notice that?” Alistair spoke tightly.
“Well, once I knew…I couldn’t keep him out. I tried. Once.” His cheeks colored, and he looked away, his fists clenching and unclenching. “I tried,” he said softly. “I know I don’t deserve to live, Ali. My lord.” He swallowed, as if realizing he’d lost the right to call her Master familiar. “I get it. Just know I’m sorry.”
Nina lifted her gaze to Alistair. Please, my lord. He’s right. He’s done what he needed to do to survive.
So have you. And you didn’t sell your soul to do it.
His gaze went back to the crumpled man on the floor, but she saw his expression flicker with something other than a killing rage and pressed her advantage.
Only because I haven’t been backed into the corners he has been. I suffered a moment of hurt, Alistair. I’m fine now, thanks to your blood and your quick thinking. He may not have acted as your ally, but he’s not your enemy. And he is your friend.
Vampires don’t have friends.
Of course they do. You do. Three of us are in this house right now. It’s nonsense for you to say otherwise.
He glanced at her. She couldn’t have found a smile to save her life, not in this environment where death and vengeance hovered so close, but when she saw the easing of his jaw, she felt a tentative spurt of relief.
“Step back, Nina,” Alistair said flatly.
She understood she needed to comply immediately and did so, but it took effort. Stanley’s gaze stayed on Alistair’s as her Master moved forward, dropped on his heels a few feet from him. Alistair tented his hand on the floor, tapped it, his moody attention on the connection before he lifted his head and pinned Stan with a hard look.
“If I kill you, I kill a symptom. I want to eradicate the disease. Will you never learn how to be more than a hustler, Stanley?”
“I’m not strong enough to—”
“You could have told me, soon as it happened. That mark he gave you can go both ways. I can get access to his mind. If he detects it, he’ll resist me, and you’ll have to stand fast, you understand? Even if he doesn’t, this will be uncomfortable, invasive. Tracing vampire-to-vampire marks isn’t easy on the go-between. I’m going to have to tunnel deep.”
Stanley paled, if such a thing was possible for a vampire. A hard quiver ran through his taut body. Alistair had just broken his arm, and yet it was now that vulnerability gripped Stan’s features. The fingers of his non-injured hand curled into a fist. Not to show aggression, but to contain fear.
From the flicker in Alistair’s gaze, he understood the reaction. And so suddenly, did she. She rose when Alistair did, coming between the two men. “My lord,” she said softly. “Can we speak?”
“Later.” As he began to move around her, she shifted with him, put out a hand. Alistair’s gaze snapped to her. What she was doing was against all the vampire-servant rules, especially doing it in front of Stanley. She was inviting Alistair’s displeasure…and a requirement that he punish her for overstepping her place. But she had an oath that superseded all others.
“Please, my lord.” Has he not been violated enough in his life? At some point, his mind was broken, and he lost the ability, the strength, to resist, to fight. He learned there was no hope in it. That he could only go with the currents, and pray that he was never caught between Scylla and Charybdis. As I said, you are his friend.
In this, I must be his Region Master first.
Truly? See him, my lord. He trembles. He’d rather you break all his limbs than do this to him. Isn’t there a way to get what you wish and not harm him further? You did it with me. Please, I be
g you. Do it with him.
Step back, Nina. Or I will have Nero remove you.
She closed her eyes at his impassive expression, but shifted away. Not far, though, her body tense. He gave her one more warning look before he dropped to one knee by Stanley.
Stanley kept his eyes down, his fists clenched. Alistair reached out, and when his hand settled on Stanley’s shoulder, he flinched, then grimaced, as if he detested showing the weakness.
If he was like anyone else who’d kicked Stanley around in his life, Alistair suspected he would have masked the flinch, shown off more of that paper-thin layer of defiance. But Stan was more vulnerable to Alistair. Emotionally. Alistair ran his free hand over his face. Damn the woman. His grip tightened. “Stan, look at me.”
Stanley slowly raised his gaze to Alistair’s. “I need to be sure,” Alistair explained. “Know for sure what he’s done, what he might be planning. So I can justify how I’ll need to handle it. I’ll need to reach through you to get to him, to find it. I can do it without your permission. I can do it, even if you resist. But what I’d prefer, mate, is if you’d help me. If you’d trust me, let go. I’d rather not hurt you if I can help it. It’s uncomfortable, but if we work together, it’s not…it doesn’t have to feel like it’s against your will.”
Alistair paused, his eyes locking with Stan’s to make the point. “It can be your choice.”
Stanley stared at him, and his lip quivered in a way that looked painful, if how he ducked his head to hide it were any indication. “Don’t deserve that,” he muttered. “I fucked up.”
“Yeah, you did. You do it again, I will kill you.” Alistair kept his tone mild, though Stanley would know he meant every word. “But maybe you’ll trust me next time, enough to tell me when someone’s taken advantage of you. You’re mine, Stanley.”
Stanley’s head lifted again, his expression cautious. Alistair nodded at his look.
“Everyone in my Region is. If you fuck up, you’re mine to rake over the coals or exact judgment upon. But if someone is taking advantage of you, it’s also my job to fuck them up, teach them that I’m not a door mat. That if they mess with someone who’s mine to protect, they’ll pay the price for that. We have to correct Donovan’s illusion he can step out of line just because he’s a fucking born vampire. Don’t we?”
Stan’s jaw looked firmer now, though his eyes were glassy with more unshed tears. “Yeah,” he managed. “Sounds good.”
“Okay.” Alistair shot Nina a look. “You can help me punish Miss Busybody for being a goddamn pain in my arse later.”
“Take a braver man than me, mate, to lay a finger on that one.”
Alistair lifted a brow. “Is that because she scares you, or I do?”
“Both.” Stan shifted his gaze to her and Nina felt a moment of shock at what she saw in his face.
“My apologies, for what I said about you, that first day,” the younger vampire said with an odd formality. “You’re far more than just a willing bit of quim.”
As apologies went, the wording could use some work, but since vampires never apologized to humans, she wasn’t going to quibble over it. She accepted the offering, just as formal and gracious.
“Thank you, Mr. Welch. Stanley.”
Stanley attempted a half smile, and drew a deep breath that quavered only a bit. He looked at Alistair again. “What do I need to do?”
“Nina, come here. Get him as comfortable as you can. I’ll pour him a stout whisky.”
“Don’t mess with a glass. The bottle’s enough,” Stanley managed, though he muttered it to his knees, swiping at his eyes once more.
“It’s expensive whisky. You’re lucky I’m not making you drink ocean water,” Alistair said.
“Here you go.” Nina helped Stan to a sitting position. Nero had returned, and she spent a few moments setting the bone in the vampire’s arm, best she could with the knowledge she had, and wrapping it. Stanley was far more stoic about it, despite the pain level she knew was no different for a vampire than a human. When she was done, she gave Stanley a damp cloth so he could wipe his face, and had Nero bring an ice pack for his nose and mouth, swollen from Alistair’s fist.
Nero brought something else as well. A packet of blood. Alistair added a generous portion to the whisky, and handed it to Stanley.
“Blood from a local unmarked donor,” Alistair said. “Randomly chosen to ensure it’s clean. We keep a stock. It should heal everything up pretty fast. One of these days, you might find yourself a third mark, so I don’t have to waste my liquor or blood reserves on you.”
“Yeah, lesser miracles have happened.” Stanley downed the drink in a few swallows. It helped in a matter of minutes. His shirt, as well as her slacks and blouse, were marked with blood, but that was okay.
Alistair next had her take a seat between Stanley’s spread and bent knees, pressing her back up against his chest. Alistair directed Stan to curl his arms around her waist, drop his head to her shoulder. “Just hold onto her. Not too tight. Don’t break her, and don’t bite her, or I’ll defang you. But breathe with her. Measure heartbeats. Relax. She has a steadiness, like a ticking clock. Don’t worry about anything. Don’t tighten up. Like the first time I buggered your arse, remember if you tighten up, it hurts worse.”
“You wanted it to hurt, then.”
Alistair gave him a feral, very male look. “Yeah, I did. And you did, too. Neither of us wants this to, though. Start breathing.”
Stanley dropped his head to Nina’s shoulder. Following instinct, she lifted her hand to his face, stroked his cheek, his hair, held his forearm across her midriff. Nina met Alistair’s eyes, and then briefly lifted the hand across her stomach to cup his cheek. Thank you.
He pressed his mouth to her palm. I mean it. I’m taking a strip out of your arse later for defying me. But thank you, too. I would have been pissed at myself later for roughing him up. Like kicking a damn psychotic puppy. How he’s lived this long…
His grumbling subsided into his usual mantra about Stanley, so she smiled and closed her own eyes, letting him work. Because Alistair kept his mind open to hers, letting her see how things unfolded, she felt the amazing structure of it, the way his mind reached into Stanley’s.
Let me know if that nurse’s radar of yours registers any distress from him that I might miss focusing on other things. I was telling the truth. It won’t be comfortable, but if he relaxes, it should go okay.
He needn’t be worried. Stan did trust Alistair, in a way that she saw moved her Master, even as it worried him, as Stanley’s vulnerability always did. He truly did consider it a miracle the male had survived the brutality of their world this long. It gave her a harrowing glimpse of the realities he’d shielded her from until now. If Stanley hadn’t ended up under Alistair’s direct supervision, he might have ended up with someone far worse.
Like Donovan, who’d regularly rape his mind and body with no care for either. After all, Stanley had been a prostitute. To some, that meant Stanley had sold his heart and soul with his body.
She saw that in Stanley’s mind, that Donovan had said that to him when he took him down the first time. Nina’s hand tightened over his forearm as she saw the terrible things Donovan had done to his body and mind that night, until Stanley begged for mercy.
Easy, Nina. My mind is open, so your emotions are filtering to him. Don’t take him to a bad place.
She redirected immediately. It was simple common sense, knowing a patient in the right state of mind accepted a treatment better than one in the wrong place. As she projected good images, Alistair at the footy game, he and Stanley sharing a cigar on the rooftop deck, Stanley relaxed further, gave himself to Alistair’s penetration of his mind and deeper, deeper…
As a third mark, Alistair had direct access to all corners of her soul. She could no more resist it than a blade of grass the pressure of the wind, and the flow was as simple, easy. A vampire marked by another vampire had a whole arsenal of conscious and unconscious shields ag
ainst a full soul invasion, and the alarms for them could be tripped by what Alistair was doing, looking for that link to another vampire’s mind, multiple layers of shielding.
Stanley shuddered, and she tightened her grip, stroking his jaw once again, pressing her cheek to his. His body was quivering, and she murmured to him, incoherent, soothing sounds. And followed another instinct she had.
“Easy, man. Easy. He’s your Master, too,” she whispered. “You are not his servant, but you are his man. In his service. In his care. This honors that protection. He deserves your devotion. Your trust. Believe in him, and he will care for you. He’s never failed me. Relax and let him in. You don’t need to fight him. He won’t hurt you.”
Stanley’s breath left him, another little shudder, and she felt Alistair sink deeper. Deep as he needed to go. She continued to murmur to and stroke the other vampire until, after what seemed like a long while, she felt Alistair begin to withdraw from him. It was only then she realized Alistair had shifted. He was sitting behind Stanley, arms around them both. He gazed at her over Stanley’s bent head. Then he was rising to squat at Stanley’s side, touching the male’s arm.
“Stan, mate. Drifted off on me there, did you? Taking a nap?”
The male vampire lifted his head, looking at Alistair a bit blearily. “No, my lord. Just…thought it might be better if I let myself go a bit hazy. Used to do that for the harder clients, you know.”
Alistair cupped the back of his head and pressed his forehead to Stanley’s. “Don’t do something like this again, mate. Don’t make me kill you. Got enough bodies on my conscience. Hear?”
Stanley nodded, his eyes closing. Alistair cleared his throat, then ran brisk fingers through Stan’s thick, tousled hair, tugging a little. When Stanley lifted his head, Alistair managed a smile. Stanley shoved at him, mates picking on one another.
“Show some respect. This hair is a full-time job.”
“I’ve no doubt.”
Stan paused, registering the tightness of Alistair’s jaw. “Did you get what you needed? If you need to go in again…”