“I know that. I saw the movie, and the remake, and the remake of the remake. Still, it’s not a fearsome name.” Bunny’s grin was actually beautiful, but also seriously annoying.
“That’s why I go by Tiger, Bunny.”
“Themistocles is a mouthful anyway.”
“I’m a mouthful. Everywhere.”
His client seemed uncomfortable beside him for a nanosecond. “I think it’s time we get dressed and head out.”
“Sure.” But far from diminishing, his hard-on stayed quite strong, perhaps waiting for a release that would not come from the man running for the bathroom hills.
****
CHAPTER FIVE
When K came out of the bathroom, Tiger was sitting on the bed waiting for him with a pair of wine-colored pants and a black T-shirt folded beside him. He must have gone to get them out of the bike while K showered. The tee would help with the idea of K holding onto Tiger with nothing under his leather jacket. Yesterday he hadn’t had this info, and today it would have been pure torture. K was a sucker for sexy abs, and abs plus bike plus long, blond hair wasn’t helping in deflecting the turbulent, unresolved equation Tiger was becoming in K’s head.
K channel surfed to keep his mind from wandering to Tiger lathering all that naked body in the shower. He found the most violent movie available and concentrated on all the gory details like never before in his life. Still, his wayward memory kept bringing up the way Tiger’s hips had felt under his hands, the way the man rocked and undulated over him, and the disturbingly hot sounds he’d made during their fake lovemaking. His cock responded in the same way it had last night, engorging and hardening. Shit. No amount of beheading and explosions could drive K’s mind away from the ghost of Tiger’s weight on top of him.
Since the massacres on the screen weren’t helping, K started fiddling with the panel on the headboard. He remembered all these establishments had satisfaction surveys, although theirs wasn’t blinking. He activated it, and an ethereal female voice said, “Completed.” Tiger had filled out even K’s— how rude! The review option came up and K accepted it. The female voice started asking question about their satisfaction, but instead of short, logical answers, all were utter nonsense like: Mattress too plump— needs to be harder, taking my Bunny to Mega-Vegas to honeymoon the fuck out of my sick days at work, the walls could use more purple (they were soft blue), you should have complimentary baskets of fruits and vegetables peppered with dildoes.
By the time Tiger came out of the bathroom, K was laughing so hard his eyes were painfully wet.
“That’s the reaction I was hoping for,” Tiger said, fully dressed.
“Good thing they don’t charge for this.”
“You give stupid answers to stupid questions.” Tiger set his dirty clothes from yesterday on the bed and folded them neatly one by one. “Hungry now?”
“Absolutely.”
“If we have a good breakfast now and do stretch stops every two hours, we will have crossed New Mexico by the end of the day to settle for the night near the state line with Texas. With an early start tomorrow we could be in Meridian by noon.”
“Sounds great.”
“Let’s get some food then.” Tiger stopped and gave K an appreciative glance before picking up K’s backpack. “I see you’re wearing yellow, like the sun.”
K nodded. “Like the sun.”
With their bellies full, they said goodbye to a really nice-looking girl at the front desk. Her name tag said “Adara,” and she had an Early Morning Oldies But Goodies music video blaring out on the giant screen behind her; K hadn’t noticed it the night before since he was so crept out by Creepo the night clerk. “There’s something really hot about that video of Dollar Sign Kesha,” K commented as they walked toward the bike.
“What, the killing of the unicorns or James Van Der Beek?” Tiger’s tone was a mix between amusement and annoyance.
“All I’m going to say is that I am against the murder of mythical creatures…”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You do look a bit like Van Der Douche,” K snickered, hoping that Tiger remembered that Dollar Sign Kesha called Van Der Beek that in the video.
“Oh, shut up and get your ass on that bike.”
They quickly rode out of Arizona. Following their two-hour-drive-and-stretch-stops plan, the day went by pretty fast. They spoke about music, movies and fashion in the shade of food chains sprouting from truck stops like desert flowers. Here K learned that Tiger was a Vine as they played Ogham Wars with a deck of cards they found abandoned on a table at one of their stops. Although they were born nine years apart, their birthdate equations (Tiger’s 09-17-2097 = 35 = 3+5 = 8 and K’s 01-07-2106 = 17 = 1+7 = 8) had them both starting the game with the same number of cards. Luckily for K, he was Birch, and thus was first to go. They had so much fun with it they kept the game going for several stops.
It always amazed K how things in human nature often returned to their roots, such as people dismissing that Sagittarius, Leo, Scorpio zodiac somewhere during the 2050s and embracing the Celtic Tree instead. This also made K aware of the fact that Birch and Vine were extremely compatible and complemented each other well.
Before K could dwell too much on this silly knowledge, the sun was ready to kiss the New Mexico hills. Soon they found a place that was a hybrid between a motel and a biker bar. The holoboard over the entrance had a giant cat, one leg in the air, giving itself a bath. Below, neon letters flashed the name of the establishment with relish: L. Minora’s. K had to wonder if that L was for “labia.”
The interior brought to mind a saloon from a Wild West movie— the only thing missing was the jolly pianist; instead, twenty-first century acid rock blared, unconcerned. They decided to stay around the brutish clientele and enjoy the raucous, unruly atmosphere before turning in. Werewolves, Fae, Vampires, and Warlocks mingled easily with humans in this sort of rough environment. It was freeing to be away from the intricacies of upscale vampire culture, and they had armed themselves after assessing the clientele of the locale. Fish and chips (forget eating for his blood type), jars of beer, games of pool and Texas Hold ’Em made the hours seem like minutes.
The rogues had embraced their cover and were surprisingly respectful until Tiger said, “I think it’s time to go to bed, Bunny.” Then it all was catcalls and lewd remarks. They waved their good-byes and moved toward the stairs to go to their room.
K’s pleasant buzz evaporated instantly as they encountered a bloodsucker blocking their path.
“What a delicious surprise to find you here, K.” Amusement laced the vampire’s tone. He was K’s most persistent customer. He had even offered to turn K, which was equal to a marriage proposal, giving K a better status within their society. An option K wouldn’t contemplate even in the face of brutal annihilation.
“Marcus. You are far from the comforts of Los Angeles.” K’s voice was casual, but he felt Tiger tense behind him.
“You looked ravishing in that vid-response you left telling your clients you were on vacation. I just wanted to check if you were having fun without me.” He browsed the noisy place with predatory eyes and a disgusted grimace on his handsome but cruel face. “Not the place I’d have expected to find you in.”
“Sometimes a boy needs a change of scenery.” K tried to move past Marcus. “It was nice to see you.”
Fuck, the vampires weren’t supposed to notice he was gone until his scheduled tax-payment next month, when it would be too late for them to care about it. They got pissed off when people fled, but the runaways didn’t become “most wanted”, at least not visibly.
“Not so fast.” Marcus grabbed K’s upper arm, pulling him toward the cold body. “Who is this man taking you upstairs?” he hissed in K’s ear, and K was sure he had done it looking at Tiger with disdain.
“I’m his fuckin’ husband. We havin’ a problem, vamp?”
“We do now.” Fangs clicked, and K was launched toward the top of the stairs, landing on his ass, blin
ding pain paralyzing him for a moment.
By the time K was able to sit and focus on what was happening, Tiger and Marcus were fighting in a clearing in the middle of the barroom. In any other circumstances the fight would have become a massive bar brawl, but now the general consensus was one of astonishment, as Tiger was giving Marcus hell, matching his strength and inhuman speed. Punches, kicks, and head-butts were almost a blur; every time Marcus tried to sink his fangs in, Tiger did a counterattack and avoided the punctures. They disentangled for a moment as Tiger pushed Marcus away from him with a well-aimed kick in the stomach, and a warlock (who had been playing pool with them) thrust a sword into Tiger’s hand.
In a swift move that was both beautifully hypnotic and terrifying, Tiger severed Marcus’s head. It flew across the room to land on a broken table two seconds before both separated body parts exploded with a wet bang.
Then the bar brawl did begin because the other vampires in the bar tried to jump Tiger all at once, and every other suprabeing took Tiger and K’s side. Crashes, screams, and growls surged as bottles were broken, chairs flew, and limbs were hurt. And because they were in L. Minora’s, cats’ yowls and screeches were an essential part of the cacophony.
K ran down the stairs to join the fracas, pulling out the gun he had tucked in the small of his back. A hand grabbed his wrist and hauled him toward the doors. Somehow Tiger had managed to get away from the turmoil and was towing him out of the bar.
“I guess we ain’t stayin’ here tonight,” Tiger said almost laughing as they jumped onto the bike. “We’re gonna be in Meridian a lot sooner than we expected.”
They were not a pair of newlyweds on their way to Mega-Vegas anymore.
Now, they were fugitives.
****
CHAPTER SIX
That vampire asshole wasn’t the first bloodsucker Tiger had killed, but it was the first time before so many witnesses. Even though he had dispatched the motherfucker in self-defense, there was no chance in hell a Vampire Council would acquit him. If this had happened in any other area he might have had a chance.
Alright, not the time to think about what could have been. Shit happened.
It was weird, but Bunny’s weight on his back strangely soothed him. Tiger had seen the resolution in those pixie features when Bunny flew down the stairs ready to join the fight. He didn’t have to do that. He could have easily gotten out, jumped on the bike and escaped to his freedom.
Self-preservation was the natural instinct of any human. This was why Tiger preferred to be around the wolves; they had a sense of community, of family, of loyalty to each other. He really didn’t know what to make of Bunny’s actions. Now his charge was squeezing him so hard it might have been painful if the kid was a bigger man.
They had been riding for at least an hour. Tiger brought the bike to a stop.
“Why are we stopping? Are you all right?”
Bunny’s concern was simply adorable.
“Are you hurt?” Bunny asked again, getting off the bike. Bunny grabbed Tiger as he dismounted and turned him around, perhaps searching for some kind of injury. His young face was lightly illuminated by the waning moon, worry marring those almost angelic features.
“Slow down. I’m fine.” Tiger grabbed Bunny’s wrists. The hands immediately closed into fists.
Concern turned into fury in those bright eyes. “You scared the fuck out of me.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I thought you couldn’t drive anymore. I don’t know.” Bunny unclenched his fists and rested his open hands over Tiger’s chest. “For a minute there I saw you dying, and I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to save you.”
Years of knowing how to disguise his emotions helped Tiger not to grin; not because he thought Bunny incapable of helping him but for the simple fact that he’d wanted to help Tiger. “Thank you.” He kissed Bunny’s bunched brow. “But I didn’t give you that gun to help me. It was to protect yourself.”
“I was not going to let those bloodsuckers kill you.” As Tiger’s grip lessened, Bunny freed one of his hands and punched Tiger in the stomach. “Why the fuck didn’t you use your weapon?”
“Ouch.” Tiger snickered. He rubbed the spot where Bunny had connected. It was a good punch. “Firearms don’t work on vampires, you know that.”
“It would have slowed him down!”
“Did I look like I needed to slow him down?”
Bunny blanched for a moment. “No.” Then his blue eyes narrowed, full of suspicion. “How did you do that? Are you part supra?”
“Nah.”
“What you did was humanly impossible.”
“Not when you know the right techniques. It’s ancient knowledge. You don’t think all the supras just appeared one night and conquered the USA, right? They have been around for eons, and humans have been learnin’ how to fight ’em since the dawn of time.”
A snort.
“What?”
“Such a good thing, that ancient knowledge, since it didn’t stop the supras from controlling the country.”
Tiger grinned widely. “If everybody could learn this then it wouldn’t be secret and sacred, don’t you think?”
Bunny rolled his eyes. “You never said secret and sacred.”
“All ancient knowledge is sacred.” Tiger caressed Bunny’s cheek. “Technology has made us humans lazy and comfortable. The supras just waited for the right time to emerge knowing that the majority of the population would simply accept their ruling as a fact, and not bother to fight it after the chaos the country had been waddling through before their takeover. Many have embraced it wholeheartedly.”
It was a messed-up reality, but it was the one they were stuck with.
“Can I learn to do that?” Bunny’s hands moved to grasp Tiger’s lapels.
“It takes years.” Something caught in Tiger’s throat. “Besides, you’re about to live in Meridian, away from the supras. You don’t need to learn these things.”
“What if someday they decide to take Meridian from the humans?”
“They can’t do that. Their own laws prevent it.”
“Laws can be changed.”
“The changeable laws are human laws. Supras are bonded by things that are stronger and deeper than human understanding. The 100th meridian is, for some reason, sacred to them. That area is untouchable. The only downfall of that city will be by human hands.”
“We could go to Europe. They don’t have that much power there.”
We?
The thing in Tiger’s throat plummeted to his chest. Tiger pulled Bunny toward that thing that confused him, making the boy’s head rest over it. He smoothed Bunny’s hair. “You’ll be fine in Meridian. You will not need to run anymore.”
Tiger would take Bunny to Meridian, collect his money and seek the werewolves. He would find a nice wolfman and settle. The vampires could not touch him in the East Area.
Bunny’s arms encircled Tiger’s waist and squeezed him harder than when they were driving.
The action was worse than a thousand pleas.
And the idea of that unknown, burly werewolf in Tiger’s future started to dissolve.
****
CHAPTER SEVEN
DAY THREE
They had been riding for hours, and the road appeared endless. A faint glow was emerging from the east signaling the end of vampire time. This didn’t exactly make them safe since the vampires had human enforcers who did their dirty work during daylight hours.
Suddenly, a wall of briars erupted from the superhighway, blocking their path.
Even with the howl of the wind and the roar of the bike and the muffling of his helmet, K heard Tiger’s “Shit!” They skidded to a halt two feet before the painful-looking thorns, the bike almost toppling in the aftermath. Tiger took off his helmet and chucked it violently to the pavement. “What in the fucked fuck?!”
K dismounted, removing his helmet more quietly. “Magic?”
“Of course it is.”
>
A horse neighing made them look the other way. One rider and four figures on foot advanced toward them in that strange fashion of the supras that was a mockery between speed and slow motion. Some people called it shimmering movement.
“What do we do now?” K asked, putting the bike between them and the supras. It was a shame they didn’t have bigger weapons. A rocket launcher would be pretty handy now.
“By the way they move, we know they ain’t no vampire enforcers. And they don’t trust other supras to do their biddin’. We wait to see what they want.”
Tiger pushed K behind him, covering him with his bigger body, but putting him dangerously close to the thorns blocking their escape route.
The supras were lean, all dressed like rejects from a punk band, except the one on the horse; that nut was wearing a Viking helmet and more furs than a werewolf orgy. If witches flew broomsticks, this idiot should be flying an oar. He was the most ridiculous warlock K had ever seen.
A blond, svelte… man? Yes, he was a man (there was a nice package between his legs), with an owl on his left shoulder moved toward them. “Well, well, well. What have we here? Is that you Themistocles Jansen?” His voice was like a deep lullaby, the voice of a caring father singing to you before you fell asleep. It was unnerving.
“Deixis? You son of a fae bitch! What you doin’ so far from New Orleans?” But as much as Tiger’s tone was jovial and even excited, he didn’t move from their spot behind the bike.
“You know, making a living with some friends, doing this and that.”
“The owl’s new.” Tiger kept his weapon out of their line of sight and cocked.
“Are we gonna wait till the sun is fully up to get them?” The heavily tattooed, almost rawboned man had the guttural, cavernous voice of the werewolves. His hair was shaved on the sides, and what should have been a Mohawk was fashioned in a long braid that rested along his shoulder like a bored snake.
“What are we, fucking vamps that need to be running away from the sun?” The other werewolf elbowed the first, the long curtain of his coffee hair jostling with the move. Lank and regal, this one looked like a Navajo prince.
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