Chapter Eight
Christos found Mateo right where Quinn had said, sprawled on the couch next to Annika. The other hybrids, except for Demi, were ranged beside him. They were focused on the big-screen TV, although, from the sounds of it, the movie had ended.
Perfect timing.
He passed Val in his haste to reach Mateo and had the satisfaction of the boy’s eyes widening at his approach. Likely it was due to the harsh expression he knew he wore. But the reaction didn’t last long. As he took the final few steps, Mateo’s demeanor shift to something more coquettish, as if he were glad to be found where he was. The brat.
“Hello, Christos.” He batted his eyelashes. “Have you come to watch movies with us? We were thinking of changing to Star Wars. I bet that’s something you’d like, all that manly lightsaber battling and dog-fights in space.”
Christos planted himself right by the boy’s feet. “That just goes so show how little you know me. I’d rather watch a documentary on wine-making.”
Mateo pouted. “I’d know better what you like if you deigned to speak with me once in a while instead of lurking in my room like a perv while I’m sleeping.”
Christos waged a short war within himself before acting on his impulse. Reaching down, he grabbed Mateo and tossed him over his shoulder. “Speaking of that, you could do with a nap,” he said over the boy’s screech of outrage.
Mateo pounded on his back. “Let me go, you psycho. Isn’t anyone going to help me?” he added when Christos walked away from the couch.
“Sorry, kid,” Val said. “You’re not in my purview.”
“Goodbye, Mateo,” Annika called out. “Come back to see me tomorrow.”
“Thank you for the lovely day,” Mateo shouted back at the same time as kicking Christos dangerously close to his balls.
He swatted the boy’s rump. “Stop that.”
“I will not. Let me go. You have no right to manhandle me like this.”
“The hell I don’t. I’m responsible for your conduct while you’re living in Alex’s club. I promised him I’d make sure you behaved.”
“But I was! I didn’t do anything wrong. Annika invited me. Can’t she do that?”
It was a fair question and one that didn’t lend itself to an easy answer. Annika did have a lot of power. It didn’t mean that she always made the best decisions. She was still young, after all, Queen or not. What if Mackie had come into the living room? How was that going to be explained? Or one of the hybrids—Merlin came to mind—might do something inhuman and give the game away. Having Mateo stay in the club had been one of Alex’s explicit requirements.
“Not really,” he answered, because in a human world that was always the case. “Alex makes the rules…mostly.”
“Well, that seemed to be an open question when Merlin came to invite me. If it’s a problem, you should take it up with them, not me. I didn’t do anything wrong. And being carried like this is making me dizzy and kind of pukey.”
“Oh.” Feeling guilty, Christos stopped on a dime while they were still in the garage. He gently set Mateo on his feet, although he kept a good grip on him. “Better?”
Mateo took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes.” He glared at him. “For someone who insists there’s nothing between us, you sure act awfully possessive.”
He could hardly argue the point, so he fell back on duty. “You are my responsibility,” he repeated, “until you’re well.”
“I’m fine now. I don’t need to stay in bed and… I guess I should plan on leaving and finding somewhere else to live. Do you think Alex would give me an advance on my pay? Assuming I have a job at the club.”
Because he couldn’t stand the vulnerable look on the boy’s face or the idea that he’d go back to the streets, he gentled his grip and cupped Mateo’s jaw. “Of course you have a job, and Alex will advance as much of your salary as you need. I will guarantee it. Plus, there is no reason for you to leave yet. You should wait until at least you’ve run the course of antibiotics.”
Mateo shook his head. “That doesn’t seem right. It’s too much of an imposition on your family.” He gnawed at his lower lip, drawing Christos’ gaze to that delicious spot. “Now, if we were sleeping together, that would be different. Then I’d be in your bed.”
Christos hardened his heart and his voice, because picturing Mateo in his own quarters was far too tempting. “Don’t start on that again. Come on. Let’s get you dinner,” he added, taking hold of the boy’s hand. He practically dragged him onward.
“Are any of these badass vehicles yours?”
“No, although I can use them. I have a plane that I flew over and keep at a private airstrip nearby.” He could have kicked himself for adding that information. What difference did it make to tell Mateo, though?
“Really? You’re a pilot? That’s awesome!” And that was why he’d said it, to hear approval in the boy’s voice.
“Willem might dispute my calling myself a pilot, but I am licensed to fly various craft.”
“You come from Greece, right?”
“Yes.” He thought of his beautiful mountain home with its ancient vineyards and herd of goats that were being tended by others in his absence. God, how he missed it all. And he could picture Mateo there, his golden sun and dark hair against the backdrop of the cliffs and the Mediterranean below. The mere thought of it made his stomach flutter with an unusual sensation.
“I suppose you’re going back there soon.” There was a vulnerability in the tone of the question.
He paused before entering the club area and looked at the boy. “Not for a while yet.” Not that his plans to stay or go should make any difference. Yet Mateo smiled at the answer. “We’ll go see what Emil has available in the kitchen. There’s no need for you to eat in bed if you’re well enough to watch movies all afternoon.”
“That works for me. I don’t want to put anyone out by waiting on me, and I am feeling pretty good.”
“That settles it, then.” There wasn’t really a reason to keep holding the human’s hand, but he continued to do it anyway. Mateo didn’t seem to mind and it was pleasant in a purely non-sexual way. He allowed them both that bit of comfort.
The kitchen was bustling with activity and filled with people, most of whom were human. It was a relief, actually. He didn’t have to endure the temptation of being alone with Mateo, and the others were a constant reminder that his true nature was unknown to the boy. The thought of how Mateo would react if he knew what Christos was, the expectation that it would lead him to fear and hate Christos, also helped as a reminder to keep his distance. That would have been true, even if the human had not suffered at the hands of Dracul’s whelp. That experience, however, was guaranteed to make him run in fear if he ever saw Christos in his natural state.
There is no future for us.
With that thought firmly entrenched, he maneuvered Mateo to the dining table that sat in one corner. He knew that Val and the others often ate there during their work shifts, so he was confident that they wouldn’t be in any of the staff’s way. “Have a seat. I’ll go scrounge up some dinner for us both.”
Before he could make good on his promise, Damien hurried over. “Hey, look who’s returned to the land of the living. How are you feeling, Mateo?”
“Much better, thanks. Christos said it would be okay if we ate dinner here. I’m tired of being stuck in my room and there’s no need for you to put yourself out by bringing me a tray.”
Damien waved away that comment. “It’s no trouble, but I’m glad you don’t need that kind of care anymore. So, what’ll be?” he asked, looking at them both. “I have stuffed pork chops with scalloped potatoes and homemade apple sauce. If that doesn’t appeal, I can grill you a couple of steaks.”
Christos answered for them both. “No need to go to extra trouble on our account. The chops sound delicious. If you lead me to them, I’ll fix our plates.”
“No, sir,” came the cheerful reply. “Emil would skin me if I
made a guest serve themselves.”
“We’re hardly that.”
“In this kitchen, you’re either staff or a guest. Unless you want to don some whites and get cooking, you’re in the latter category. Sit. I won’t be a moment.”
Having been left with no choice, Christos eyed the chair next to Mateo and decided his resolve didn’t need more testing. Going around to the other side, he sat opposite him with his arms folded on the table. “I trust the menu is acceptable to you.”
Mateo propped his chin on his upturned palm. “Sure. If it’s not fast food or something out of a dumpster, I’m totally down with anything.”
That casual reminder of the life the human had been leading sent anger boiling through him. “You will never have to worry about that again.”
“You seem pretty sure about that for a guy who isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Do I have to be that to care?”
“No, but I’ve learned to count on nothing that I can’t assure myself.” He raised his head and put his hand over Christos’. “Look… I know you mean well and I really appreciate your finding work for me in the club. But please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Against his better judgment, Christos didn’t end the contact. Instead, he flipped his hand to clasp Mateo’s. “Who says I can’t?”
“It’s the way the world works. You’ll head back to Greece sometime soon, and if you don’t already have a guy in your life—”
“I don’t,” he interjected, once more missing an opportunity to cut off any notion that he and this boy had a future together.
“I don’t understand how that’s remotely possible.” Mateo sighed and peered at where their fingers interlaced. “Anyway, it will happen at some point and you won’t remember me.”
“Impossible.” He squeezed the boy’s hand. “Nothing could cause me to forget you, not time or space or anything else.”
Mateo rolled his eyes. “Space, huh? Are you planning on volunteering for the manned mission to Mars or something?”
“Why would I want to go to that desolate place? There are much better planets to explore and colonize.” He could have kicked himself for giving an answer that no human would have. This was why nothing could become of his relationship with this boy. He’d never mastered the kind of filter necessary to exist incognito. He was much better off living alone on his mountain.
“Are you some kind of amateur astronomer or something?”
“No, that’s more Malcolm’s thing.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“I keep forgetting that you haven’t met the entire family. It doesn’t matter. My point is that I won’t forget you, Mateo.” Seeing Damien approaching, he reluctantly broke contact. There was no point in fueling the gossip mill any more than necessary. He ignored the look of disappointment on Mateo’s face.
“Here you go, guys.” Damien placed two large plates of food in front of them. “I figured if this is too much for you, Mateo, Christos will finish it. These Stelalux men eat a whale’s worth of food every day. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Thank you, and I’ll have water,” Christos said. When Mateo nodded at that, Damien took off again.
“What kind of name is Stelalux?” the boy asked after his first mouthful.
“The family is originally from Romania. I guess it’s from maybe Roman soldiers at some point.” That was a lie, of course. He remembered well the moment Alex had made it up for them to seem more human. Then each of them had picked a first name for themselves to, again, blend in better with the human population. It had meant nothing to them at the time, yet was ingrained as part of their identity now.
“Mm-m. Thanks,” Mateo said when Damien brought them glasses and a pitcher of ice water. “Isn’t that where Transylvania is located?”
“Yes.” Christos filled the glasses.
“That makes you a vampire, huh?”
He bobbled and spilled some of his water before recovering. “Um, no. That’s all nonsense. We, ah, don’t like it, actually.”
“You all have the look down pat, though, don’t you? The dark hair, the pale skin… You seem really strong and fast. I mean, I swear you were too far away to catch me when I fainted.” He forked some more food and popped it into his mouth. “You’re even kind of cool to the touch. And the way you practically inhaled my jugular that one night we got our freak on…”
Mateo’s fork clattered onto the table. He stared at him wide-eyed. “You’re not a vampire, are you?” Christos froze mid-bite as he struggled for a suitably strong denial. His hesitation itself was a mistake. Mateo leaned over the table. “Are you?”
Swallowing hard, he shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he choked out. “There’s no such thing. It’s…it’s a racist stereotype. A micro-aggression.” There, that ought to end this nonsense. Mateo struck him as a woke kind of kid.
The boy settled back into his chair and picked up his fork. “Sorry. I know it’s silly. It would explain a lot,” he added under his breath before fixing a bright smile on his face. “This is delicious, don’t you think?”
“Indeed.”
The rest of the meal was blissfully either silent or filled with small talk. They were both hungry enough to plow through their meals relatively quickly. Damien had been right, as well, that Christos had to finish Mateo’s serving, although there wasn’t that much left on the plate. It made him happy to see the boy eating heartily. He was too skinny.
Dessert was brownies, reminding him that he’d intended to take some from the meeting to give to Mateo. He was glad there were more left, especially when the human’s eyes lit up with obvious joy. They ate as they returned to the bedroom. Mateo wanted to go hang out in the club’s main area. Christos nixed that idea. It was too soon in the boy’s recovery, plus he wasn’t ready to see the members circling him like fresh bait. Fortunately, Mateo didn’t argue the point. His loud yawn helped cement the plan anyway.
When they entered the room, they found a dose of medicine waiting on the nightstand. Mateo didn’t need to be prompted to take it. As he did, Christos eyed a mound of colorful material lying on the bed.
“What’s this?” He poked at it with one finger. There were scraps of cloth with waistbands and leg holes and… “Fuck me.”
“Is that an invitation, finally? Ooh!” Mateo jumped on the bed and started pawing through the heap. “Demi said he’d drop off some excess thongs the boys keep in their dressing room.” He held up a scrap of midnight blue shiny material. “I love this.”
Christos sputtered. “That wouldn’t cover one of Annika’s dolls!”
Mateo blinked back at him. “It’s the perfect size for me. As you well know, my dick isn’t all that big and my waist is tiny—as is my butt, thank you very much.”
“There’s nothing there to cover that part of you, so it hardly matters how big it is. And your cock is the perfect size.”
Mateo turned coy. “You think?”
“Stop fishing for compliments. You know how beautiful every inch of you is.”
The teasing look fled. “Actually, I don’t. All anyone has ever been interested in is my two holes, which are both basically one size fits all.” He shrugged and picked up a red thong. “It will be nice to be admired for something more, even if it is still surface deep.”
“Jesus, Mateo, you have a way of flaying me wide open.”
The boy snatched the rest of the clothing and went to shove it into a dresser drawer. “I honestly don’t mean to. I’m not looking for a pity fuck. If you don’t want me, you don’t want me.” He shrugged. “I hope the club members feel differently. I know I can make a lot simply by dancing, but I bet the real money is in the lap dances and the playrooms. Demi said Alex doesn’t take a cut, which is great. I can earn enough to— Hey!”
Christos felt as if he were having an out-of-body experience. He could see himself leaping over the bed and grabbing Mateo by the arms. He knew that it was a mistake, that it betrayed what he was feel
ing for the boy. He knew, too, that his super-human speed would only add to the crazy idea that he was a vampire. There was no power on Earth that was going to stop him, however. Certainly he’d lost all self-control.
He pulled Mateo to his tiptoes and eyed him nose-to-nose. “I won’t have other men’s hands on you. There will be no lap dances or blow jobs, no tying you up and fucking you. None of that, do you hear?” He shook him a little in emphasis.
Mateo didn’t flinch. His expression turned mulish. “You don’t get to say that, to demand that or control what I do or don’t do. You’re not Alex and I’m not Quinn, because you have insisted that there is nothing between us, even after you made me come harder than I ever had before and kissed me like you meant it.”
The boy’s breath hitched and a frightening sheen filmed his eyes. “You treated me like a stranger after what we shared. You treated me like a whore!”
Aghast at the accusation, Christos pulled back, although he didn’t let go. “No, I didn’t. I did the opposite. I gave you space. I didn’t presume that you would welcome more or that I had a right to it. Damn it, Mateo, I will not be like every other man who has used you for his own pleasure. You deserve better than that.”
“Yeah? Then prove it.” He leaned into Christos’ embrace. “Don’t fuck me. Make love to me. I hear there’s a difference.”
“There is,” he said quietly, although he couldn’t say he’d ever experienced that himself. On this world, he’d only ever known the transient release of casual sex.
“Prove it,” came Mateo’s breathless reply.
Christos licked his lips, his gaze whirling while he pondered the right response. He went with the truth. “I’m afraid I’ll screw it up.”
“Impossible.” Mateo closed the distance between them, setting the whole thing in unstoppable motion.
The moment the boy’s lips touched Christos’, he was lost. His control snapped and he tugged him into a fierce embrace. Their tongues clashed as they wrestled, chasing each other from one mouth to the other. Mateo leaped up to wrap his legs around Christos’ waist, saving him the trouble of scooping the boy into his arms. They were both hard, and their straining cocks rubbed fruitlessly together.
Final Dance Page 14