Star Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  “I haven’t, not completely. I probably never will in the sense that it’s a part of me. I can’t change the past or forget it. I don’t want to, but I also won’t allow it to dictate how I handle my present or my future.”

  “You love Emil.” It wasn’t a question, although he was keen to hear the why of it.

  “I do. I shouldn’t if I think about it. After what men did to me, I should have trouble bonding with anyone, let alone an alien, of all people. Then again, maybe that’s what makes it easier. Emil is unlike anyone else in my experience. When he touches me, I don’t remember the others.

  “His skin is cool for one thing. His eyes change color and, when he sinks his fangs into me, all it does is make me come harder. Sorry,” he added with a quick glance. “Does hearing that upset you?”

  Brenin shook his head. “No. It makes sense, too. I can’t claim that he’s different. Malcolm feels and looks just like the monster—and yet, he isn’t. I know that bone deep. I guess I don’t trust myself. Maybe I’ve just pushed everything so far down that it’s waiting to pop out when I least expect it.

  “I did, actually, start to panic last night. When Malcolm covered me with his body and kissed me, it was lovely at first—the kiss, that is. I’ve never experienced the like before. Then, I was all of a sudden swamped with memories of being pinned down. I started to struggle.”

  “What did Malcolm do?”

  “Got up, mun. Like the Flash, he was. And he let me sit on him, control what happened. That works for me and he doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “That’s why you’re okay with him. He isn’t a monster and you know it. Give yourself time, Brenin, and also give yourself trust. You know what you’re doing.”

  “Hey!” Mackie called out as he and Quinn raced up from the dock. “You should see the trawler. It’s hideous and as old as dirt. No one will think anything’s happening when we pull up in it.”

  He stopped and grinned at them both before glancing down at the fishery. “Ooh, salmon. My favorite fish. Think we’ll have time to eat before we go?”

  Quinn laughed. “God, Mackie, we just ate a few hours ago.”

  The other boy shrugged. “What can I say, I’ve gotten my appetite back because tonight we’re rescuing Demi.”

  * * * *

  “Is it time or not?” Dracul’s patience was at an end. Petru’s briefings were proving more and more useless, so he needed to see for himself what was happening.

  Horatiu glared back at him with obvious disdain and arrogance. Dracul couldn’t wait to wipe that look off the man’s face for good. “You know it’s not that simple. The signs are there, but if I take the babe out too soon, he will die—the child, that is. I understand you care nothing about the father.”

  On the bed, the slut in question writhed in obvious pain. Normally that would have been entertaining. With his son’s life on the line, he couldn’t afford to enjoy it. He clenched his fingers, making the next vessel for his seed mew in distress. That was a pretty sound, especially as the cunt seemed to like the pain. Go figure. Humans were ridiculous creatures under the best of circumstances.

  “I understand well the dangers of the birth, otherwise I would have had Drogo cut the boy out of that useless lump days ago—before they both dared to defy me. Don’t think you can, as well. Safely deliver my son this night or yours will be choking on my cock for breakfast.”

  His point made, he stormed out of the room and back to his own. Such was his anger that he didn’t make it there before he needed to find relief. The alcove at the bottom of the stairs did nicely. Slamming the striped-haired slut against the wall, he tore the robe from the boy’s body and resolved to keep the chit naked from that point on.

  Dracul liberated his dick and rammed it into the always-welcoming hole. Far from trying to avoid him, the cunt pressed his ass backward and clenched—satisfying in many ways, lacking in others. The resistance was part of the pleasure, although, at that moment, he needed fast relief.

  He pounded into the boy with a snap of his hips that made the slut groan and quiver. “That’s it, Master. Take out your frustrations on me. Forget about that room. I will give you so many sons that you’ll never miss any other.”

  Dracul twisted the striped hair in his fist and pulled the head back. “I can never have enough.” Shoving his dick in as far as it would go, he bit the exposed neck with a force designed to hurt.

  The boy shuddered and groaned, coming from the abuse alone. And so did Dracul. A perfect match at last.

  * * * *

  “Please be careful.”

  Malcolm peered down into Brenin’s worried eyes. “Always, laddie. Always. And you stay here. I cannae concentrate on what I have to do if I’m worried about you.”

  “We’ll stay right here on the boat, I promise you that. Nothing will get us to leave.” He glanced down and said, “I’m glad you’re wearing a kilt.”

  “Cheeky boy.”

  Malcolm nodded once, as certain as he could be that his boy would keep his promise. His boy. It was getting easier to think that. He closed his duffel and hefted it over one shoulder. The rest of the men—and Logan—were also ready, each carrying their own bag of tricks. Each was armed, too, except the doctor, who’d decided that guns weren’t for him after all. But he had a knife sheathed on his belt and Doc McPhee had fitted him with an array of medicines and instruments that he’d never have got through customs.

  They were as ready as they ever were going to be. There was only one last thing to do, to his way of thinking. He pulled out a bottle of his own Scotch and, after popping it open, took a slug. The burn felt good and it was like it had been back in the old days before going into battle. He passed the bottle to Alex, who took his dram before giving it to Val. Willem came next, then Emil. But he passed over Logan by some unspoken agreement and gave it to Duncan instead. While the cop didn’t flinch, the doctor shook his head.

  “All right, then,” Malcolm said, taking and recapping the bottle. “We’re off.”

  The goodbyes had been done in advance, so they left the boys and Lucien behind without further ado. Darling had arranged a large SUV for the trek up to the castle. It was a tight fit with the eight of them and all their gear. No one grumbled. They were all too focused on the mission. Malcolm was painfully aware that he could die that night. For the last thousand years, that possibility hadn’t worried him over much. Now, he had something to lose—Brenin. Or, more to the point, he worried what would happen to the boy if this battle ended badly. He couldn’t stand the idea of Brenin being alone in the world again or, worse, at Dracul’s mercy.

  Well, he just couldn’t allow that to happen and that was that.

  Willem was as good a driver as he was a pilot. He brought them within a kilometer of the castle in record time. They finished the journey on foot, with Malcolm leading the way. He knew the area as well as anyone could after a few days of surveillance. He’d figured out the range of Dracul’s security and had already established the perfect vantage points to screen the castle. Alone, he did so while the others waited in a huddled group in the forest.

  His goal was easier this time. He only needed to find where Harry and the others were being kept, so the rescue party would know where to go as soon as he let them in. He found them on the first try, because an educated guess had him looking at the towers. The heat signatures told mostly a good story.

  “They’re all together,” he said without preamble once he returned to the group. “Harry and his boy are in a tower room with Dafydd.”

  “Are you sure?” the cop asked.

  “Aye.” He tamped down his irritation at the interruption. He understood how important it was to Duncan to learn that Demi wasn’t with Dracul. “There is a guard, though.”

  Duncan swore. “Dracul?”

  “No. One of his men, no doubt.”

  “How can you know?”

  Once again, Malcolm made allowances. “Not only would Dracul never stoop to do such a job himself, I checked his room
before coming back here. He’s there with another changed human. I’ll be careful, as careful as I can, to keep him out of the fray when I take on Dracul.”

  That had been the deal that he’d struck with Alex. Although everyone had treated this as a joint mission in which whoever got the chance to take out Dracul would, there had also been an unspoken assumption that it would be Alex’s honor if possible. Malcolm had asked Alex to step aside as the senior man. The basis of his request had been that Dracul’s brutality of Brenin had become an issue of personal honor for Malcolm. For him, it was a matter of family and Alex had understood.

  Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “Good work, Malcolm. Now, on to the cistern.”

  This bit was trickier because they only had the most general sense of where the water that caught in the underground cavern might flow out again. They made some educated guesses based on what information Brenin had been able to give them. It took too long by Malcolm’s estimation. Finally, though, a trickle of water turned into a small stream that led into the side of the hill.

  Val pushed to the head of the group. “I’ll check it out.” His knowledge of security transcended Malcolm’s own, so he was happy enough to sit this one out.

  A while later, a wet Val returned. “It’s not monitored.”

  “You’re sure of that?” Malcolm asked, amazed that access could be that easy.

  Val gave him a pointed glare before saying, “Yes, but that’s not surprising, actually.” He frowned. “They don’t expect anyone can find it, let alone wiggle through because it’s too damn small for any of our kind to push through. I went in a way to make sure we had the right spot. The opening is large, then around the time it is completely underwater, it narrows to impossibly small.”

  “Fuck!” Malcolm responded for all of them.

  “Logan might manage it,” Val said.

  They all looked at her. She stared at the ground, shaking her head. “I, um, don’t like small spaces. I can’t… Sorry.” She shook all over as she uttered the apology.

  “It’s okay,” Emil said, putting his arm around her. “You don’t have to explain.”

  “What about Paz, here?” Malcolm asked. The human was slender, like Logan, although a little taller.

  He put up his hands. “You say it’s underwater? I can’t swim very well. A few feet I might manage, but anything more and I’m likely to drown before I could reach the cistern.”

  They sat there silently, contemplating how their careful plans were falling to shite. There had to be another way.

  “Maybe one of the—” Willem started to say.

  Malcolm looked up sharply. “No.”

  “You have a better idea? We need someone smaller and we have a boatload full of ‘smaller’ to call on.”

  “They’re just boys. Would you send Annika?” Malcolm was being irrational, but he knew right down to his bones that if they went and asked, the one who would fit the bill would be his boy.

  Willem glared. “She’s a child. We call them boys, but they’re adults.”

  “Enough!” Alex’s quiet voice was no less commanding. “Malcolm, you, Willem and I will return and see if any of the boys have the skill to make the journey. Who knows? Perhaps Lucien can do it.”

  “Aye, right.” He was certain that wouldn’t be the case. “Except, that water is like to be freezing this time of year. If a human is to go in, he’ll need a dry suit.”

  “We passed a dive shop in the village,” Duncan offered. “Drop me off there and I’ll, um…liberate one.”

  “Perfect. Let’s go. Night isn’t going to last forever.” With that friendly reminder, Alex took off.

  The others and Malcolm followed, his stomach a churning pool of dread.

  * * * *

  Mackie and Lucien both became alert while the rest of them continued to mope and worry. “They’re coming back,” the red-haired boy said before racing up on the deck.

  “It’s too soon,” Brenin warned, even as he followed. Concern morphed into relief when he saw Malcolm step out of the SUV. Whatever was going on, at least he was safe for now.

  Alex ushered everyone back inside, although Malcolm managed to sneak in a quick kiss to Brenin’s upturned face before doing so. “How good a swimmer are you?” he asked.

  “Very,” Brenin replied, confused over the question. “I was on the team back in school.”

  “Bugger me. Of course you were,” Malcolm muttered, but he also offered a shaky smile as they joined the others.

  “We need someone smaller than us to enter the cistern, as it turns out,” Alex was saying.

  Ah, so that’s it. Poor Malcolm. He must be having all kinds of fits over the prospect of me getting into harm’s way. For himself, though, Brenin was glad of it. Hanging around while the men did the dirty work hadn’t sat well with him from the beginning. No matter how Malcolm might feel, Brenin was a man, as well. Young and naïve and still dealing with the trauma of his capture, but a grown-up nevertheless. He might not be a soldier, but he wanted to fight. He had a feeling it would go a long way toward his healing.

  “That would be me,” he said before any of the others could speak up. “Unless one of you was in the running for the Olympics, I’m the one to go.” The others looked at him as if he had three heads, so that was that.

  Alex gave him a brief nod and a smile. “Excellent. We would be in a bind if you couldn’t. Are you sure you’re willing to do it? It’s all right if you say no. That castle is a terrible place for you.”

  “I want to do it,” he replied. He directed his next statement to Malcolm. “I need to do it, mind. You understand?”

  “Aye, I do.” He tucked some of Brenin’s hair behind his ear. The man seemed to like doing that and Brenin liked it in return.

  “What’s the plan, then?”

  “We’ll tell you the way,” Alex said. “Duncan is getting you a dry suit, because the water will be frigid for a human. We’ll meet him outside.” He started to go. Quinn stopped him.

  “Alex, wait. Brenin’s joining the fight and we’re not?”

  Alex frowned at his lover. “We only need Brenin for the swimming part.”

  “Which ends in the castle part,” Quinn retorted. “If Brenin’s joining the fight, then so are we.”

  “What he said,” Mackie added with his usual snark, arms folded and a determined look.

  “Emil will be pissed,” Jase observed. “But seems to me that we would be the perfect third group in this assault. I mean, everyone has kind of glossed over the humans, changed or not, that are captive in there. Someone’s got to deal with them. They can’t stay there once Logan’s explosives start going off. And who better to speak to them in a way that is sympathetic and in terms they can understand than us?” He waved his hand to encompass the humans in the cabin.

  “It does rather fit into the revised plans, sir,” Malcolm said.

  Alex sighed. “Emil and Val both will be apoplectic if I show up with you boys. I’m going to have a mutiny on my hands if I do. They won’t want to proceed if you’re going to be in danger.”

  Lucien stepped up. “Please, Alex, what Jase says is true. These boys can be helpful in your fight. Don’t underestimate them because they are mere humans. And don’t let your love for Quinn cloud your judgment. You can’t wrap him up and keep him safe from everything. I thought I could do that with Demi and look how wrong I was. I’ll stay with the boat. Someone should.”

  Alex nodded once. “You all make fair points and we’re wasting time.”

  With that, he grabbed Quinn’s hand and bolted out of the cabin. It took another second for everyone else to realize that they’d won the argument. Brenin and Malcolm let Mackie and Jase go first before following.

  At the doorway, Brenin paused long enough to look over his shoulder at Lucien. “We’ll bring them back to you. I promise.”

  Everyone piled into the SUV, a tight fit, but it allowed Brenin to sit close to Malcolm. Willem sat behind the wheel, eyes wide for a moment before he start
ed the engine. He pulled away from the dock and stopped about a block away. The reason became apparent when Duncan sprinted across the road with a bag in his hand.

  The copper squeezed into the SUV, paused, then, shaking his head, buckled up. “This isn’t going to go over well, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  That was the last anyone said, other than Malcolm, who laid out the revised plan for Brenin to access the cistern. “Are you okay with it?” he asked Brenin.

  “Sure. It will be dead easy.” His false bravado faltered in the next instant because he leaned against the man, drawing what strength he could for the ordeal to come.

  “Keep going, Willem,” Alex said when the man started to pull over at the edge of the woods. “The boys can’t make the trek as fast as we can and we don’t want Brenin tired by the time he arrives.”

  “It’s riskier,” the driver replied, even as he kept going.

  “Not by much,” Malcolm said. “I’ve done a lot of surveillance, don’t forget. I saw no cameras by the road. I was only being extra-cautious before. Like Alex said, Brenin needs all his energy for the swim.” He squeezed Brenin’s hand.

  Proverbial butterflies wreaked havoc with Brenin’s stomach for the rest of the journey. The closer he got to the castle, the more the memories of his ordeal threatened to overwhelm him. He used Malcolm’s touch as a way to ground himself and pictured how wonderful it would feel once the monster was dead. His direct contribution to that eventuality would go a long way toward putting it all behind him. His damsel in distress persona was about to become the instrument of revenge.

  They finally exited the SUV and the physical act of walking helped with the jitters. The rest of their group was huddled in a small hollow and sheltered by large trees. The expressions on their faces when they saw the boys creeping up to join them were priceless. A mixture of surprise, anger and simply ‘holy fuck’, when it came to the doctor, served to distract Brenin even more.

  Alex held out his hand before anyone could speak. “We don’t have time to discuss this turn of events in committee. I’ll give you the revised, revised plan once Brenin is off.”