by Kat Bellamy
“Precisely. If Carver makes the mistake of threatening him, we’ll have a disaster on our hands. Men like him can’t go missing without the wrong people asking the right questions.”
“What would happen if people found out? Just theoretically.”
“The Assembly would put every ghoul in Providence under quarantine until the problem could be contained.”
“Contained? How?”
“If only a few humans knew, they would be killed. If the exposure were to happen on a larger scale, there are methods available to the Assembly that are effective enough to warrant use in an emergency but inconvenient enough to warrant grave consequences.”
“Being…?”
“Extermination. Every ghoul in the city,” Stan said in a somber tone. “Quite the deterrent, isn’t it?”
“They can’t seriously do that,” Colt said in disbelief. “It’s a bluff, right? To make people take it seriously.”
“I thought that. Then it happened.”
“Where?” Colt asked, horrified.
“Cleveland in ’86. Let’s just say that the Kin were getting lazy about following the rules and the Assembly wanted to send a strong message.”
“I’ll say,” Colt muttered. “What can I do?”
“Try to find out what you can without arousing Jason’s suspicion. Hopefully my people are as trustworthy as I think they are and this is all much ado about nothing.”
“Hope so.” The sinking feeling in his gut said otherwise, but he could hope.
“Well, while you’re here, how about I give you the grand tour?” Stan offered.
Colt reluctantly agreed and followed Stan through the hallway. “So this is where most of the meat in the city comes from?”
“A good deal, but there are plenty of hospitals. Susan coordinates between them, actually. Then there are the mortuaries and the crematorium downtown.”
“Crematorium? Isn’t it a bit too late for the bodies that end up there to do us any good?”
Stan chuckled. “There are ghouls who will only eat human ashes, believe it or not. It’s not as filling, but it gets the job done. That’s all Ronnie would eat when he was younger, before he stopped eating human meat at all.”
“I know I don’t really have the right to say this, but that’s kind of nasty.”
Stan grinned. “I imagine he’d say the same thing about ripping out a human’s throat.”
“True enough.” Colt paused. “What’s gonna happen when he hits twenty-five and has to eat meat?”
Stan grew somber. “There’s a reason most ghouls grow up eating human flesh before they really need to. It makes it seem normal, and to most of us, it is. But Ronnie…”
“Ronnie isn’t normal.”
“No,” Stan sighed. “He isn’t.”
“You worry about him, don’t you?”
Stan smiled. “Don’t all fathers worry about their sons?”
“Guess the good ones do. He’s a good kid, though. He’s gonna be alright.”
“I’m sure he will be,” Stan said with a smile that didn’t seem completely genuine. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to work.”
“Yeah,” Colt called. “Take care.”
Maybe parenthood as a ghoul wasn’t that different, after all. Colt was almost relieved he’d never have to deal with that shit. Jason would probably agree to adopt rather than go the surrogate route if they did decide to have a family. Being a ghoul was one thing, and he knew he’d probably feel differently if he had been raised as one, but he couldn’t imagine bringing a kid into that world.
Chapter 23
As Colt sat across from Jason on his couch, he felt like a creep for being so relieved when his boyfriend reached for their second bottle of wine that night, even if he only wanted information.
Maybe not only, if he was being entirely honest with himself, but sacrifices had to be made if he was going to keep Jason and the Browns safe. He took the bottle and filled Jason’s glass so the wine wouldn’t end up on his carpet. “So, I take it the press conference didn’t go well?”
“Oh, it went fine. At least, until I tripped over the DA’s mic cable and deafened half the press corps with the feedback coming through the speakers.”
Colt winced. “Sounds painful.”
“For everyone involved.”
“So, was Carver mad?” Colt asked, trying not to sound hopeful. Ever since Jason had taken the job, he’d been on high alert. Hell, ever since he’d found out he was a ghoul, he hadn’t been able to relax for more than a few blissful moments at a time. That was as long as his brain could sustain the depth of denial it took to feel like everything might work out okay.
“No, he was very understanding about the whole thing. He made a joke at his expense and the whole crowd laughed,” Jason groaned, dropping his head back against the couch.
“I don’t follow. Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It is, but I feel like I’m working for a rockstar. If he was a jerk, that’d be one thing, but now there’s even more pressure not to screw up.”
“Here’s hoping your boss turns out to be a douche,” Colt teased, tapping his glass to Jason’s.
“Seriously,” Jason said, straightening up so suddenly his wine sloshed.
“Easy.”
“Oops,” Jason snickered, licking the droplets off his fingers. Colt stared.
Back on track, caveman. “Uh, so, any luck on the werewolf front?”
Jason cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t like hearing about that.”
“No, I don’t like you doing it. As long as you are, I’d like to know what’s going on.”
Jason’s teeth scraped his bottom lip. “I’m really not supposed to talk about work.”
“What, you think I’m gonna leak important case details to the press?” Colt taunted, flashing Jason his most seductive smile. He usually left the seducing to Jason, but judging from the way his boyfriend’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in, he wasn’t doing a half-bad job.
Then again, Jason was pretty drunk.
“Well, you do have that James Bond thing going on ever since you started wearing button downs,” Jason purred, plucking the top button on Colt’s shirt.
Colt laughed huskily, taking his hand to kiss. “Only on meeting days. But you caught me. This whole time, I’ve just been trying to get close to you in hopes that you’d divulge all of Liam Carver’s secrets if I waited for just the right moment.”
“That’s a long con,” Jason murmured against his lips.
Colt kissed him, pulling away as Jason’s tongue flicked against his lips. “You know how I like to commit.”
Jason let out a sigh of mild frustration and leaned back into the couch, clasping his glass with both hands. “I’m not in any danger, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I did finally get Wilbur to open up.”
“About what, exactly?” Colt asked, doing his best Jealous Boyfriend impression. It wasn’t all that hard, since he had more practice than he wanted to admit.
“He knows the animal attacks are something else. Something weird.”
“He shares your werewolf theory?”
“No,” Jason mumbled. “I tried to feel him out on it, but he does think the other city officials are covering something up.”
“Which ones?”
“Sheriff Venson, for sure. Maybe others.”
“That’s a pretty big deal, if it’s true,” Colt said, hoping Jason’s inebriation would make his poor acting a bit less obvious. Being nonchalant was fucking high maintenance.
“Which is why Carver’s never made any formal accusations.”
“So what does he think it is?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him about it directly, but I know he and Andrew aren’t on exactly the same page.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whatever’s going on, Andrew thinks there’s a sound, logical explanation,” Jason said in a pitch perfect mimicry of Andrew’s smug tone. Colt s
norted. “He thinks the mafia’s behind it somehow.”
“He’s not exactly my favorite person, but I kind of have to agree with him on this one. As far as conspiracy theories go, anyway.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “No surprise there.”
“What does Carver think?”
“I don’t know. But as soon as I get him alone, I’m gonna find out.”
“You plan to spend many a long evening alone with the District Attorney, do you?”
Jason smirked. “You jealous?”
“Hell, yeah. I know your type.”
“My type?” Jason scoffed.
“Sure. Don’t think I didn’t notice that giant crush you had on Mr. Swanson.”
“The high school chem teacher?” Jason cried, lobbing a throw pillow at Colt. “Gross.”
Colt caught the pillow, smirking. “Say what you want, but I know what you were daydreaming about while we were studying solubles.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” Colt draped an arm around Jason and changed the channel since they’d long since stopped paying attention to the movie they were watching.
Jason snuggled into his side and rested his head contentedly on Colt’s shoulders. For a few minutes, Colt was sure he’d drifted off when Jason suddenly sat up. “Oh! I almost forgot.”
“What, you remember your undying love for Mr. Swanson?”
“No,” Jason said, elbowing him playfully. “There’s a charity event the mayor’s throwing next week. Carver and Andrew are going, and they want me to come be their go-between. I need a date, so I hope that new wardrobe comes with a three-piece suit.”
“I think I can throw something together, but what’s the occasion?”
“I don’t know, it’s kind of a last-minute thing as far as I can tell. Carver didn’t even know about it until this morning.”
“Huh.”
“If you’re busy…”
“No, not at all,” said Colt. “I’ll be there.”
“I knew I could count on you,” Jason smiled, draping his knee over Colt’s leg. His foot knocked his empty glass off the table and it shattered against the leg on the way down. “Shit!”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about --” Colt broke off as Jason clumsily sank to the floor before he could stop him.
“Ow, fuck!” Jason cried, gripping his knee as the scent of blood hit the air. Colt had already fed that day, but he avoided blood since he didn’t need it and felt weird about drinking it electively. Such close proximity to fresh, warm human blood had far more of an intoxicating effect on him than the half-bottle of wine he’d consumed.
For a moment, Colt thought of running. It would be hard to explain to Jason why he’d run out of the room when he needed first aid, but worth it if it meant not hurting him. He remembered the advice that had been working for him whenever they made love and focused on allowing the shift that was already threatening to come over him to bleed through just enough so that his nails lengthened and dug into his palms. The pain gave him the clarity he needed to help Jason back up onto the couch and excuse himself to get the first aid kit in his bathroom.
Once he was alone in the bathroom, Colt rummaged through his medicine cabinet for a bottle of pungent cologne he’d bought for just such an occasion. He splashed a bit out onto his hand and snorted the shit, ignoring the way the alcohol burned his nostrils. It was a tip from Susan that he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to put to use. The noxious cologne was enough to overpower the far more pleasant scent of Jason’s blood. After collecting himself, Colt returned to find Jason with his pant leg rolled up and his shin covered in blood.
“Here, I’ve got it,” Colt said, kneeling in front of him. He tossed a throw over the glass so Jason wouldn’t get hurt again and examined the wound. As far as he could tell, there was no more glass in the cut, but it was a good two inches wide and not much shallower. He pressed a towel to Jason’s knee and apologized when his boyfriend winced.
“This is pretty bad. You’re gonna need stitches. Think you can make it to the car if you lean on me, or do you want me to call an ambulance?”
“God, don’t do that,” Jason groaned, burying his face in his hand. “This is humiliating enough, the last thing anyone needs is the DA’s assistant showing up drunk in the ER.”
“Well, you can’t let this go. The bleeding’s not really stopping,” Colt said, lifting the towel to check.
He also wasn’t sure he could handle being alone with Jason’s blood for much longer, even if his face did smell like a teenage guy looking for a date.
“It’ll be fine. It’s not that deep.”
Colt disagreed, but he knew arguing with drunk Jason was even more of a lost cause than arguing with sober Jason. He finally put Jason’s hand over the towel and pushed down. “Keep pressure on this, I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a friend who’s a doctor, maybe he can come over,” Colt said, going into the kitchen to pick up his cordless. He didn’t want Jason to overhear what he was about to ask Stan. Luckily, the man picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Stan, it’s Colt. I’ve got a problem,” he said, glancing back into the living room where Jason was staring down at his knee with a look that could only be described as haunted. Colt wasn’t sure if his face was that white because he was scared or because he’d lost that much blood, but he didn’t want to take the chance. “Jason’s over and he cut himself pretty bad. He’s refusing to go to the hospital. Is there anyway you ---”
“I can be over in fifteen minutes,” said Stan.
“Thank you so much,” Colt muttered. “Are you sure it’s not a uh, bad time?”
Stan gave a knowing chuckle. “I think I’ll be able to contain myself. Surgeon, remember?”
“Right,” Colt said, feeling like an idiot. “Thanks again.”
He hung up and went back to check on Jason. Fifteen minutes later on the dot, there was a knock at the door. Colt ushered Stan in with his medicine bag in hand. The older ghoul didn’t bat an eye when he saw Jason’s cut. The bleeding had stopped somewhat, but it still looked bad.
“You must be Jason,” Stan said with a pleasant smile. “I’m Stan Brown. I’d shake your hand, but…”
Jason stared up at Stan, then glanced at Colt, clearly confused. “Nice to meet you. You’re Colt’s friend?”
“We met through my wife,” Stan said with a chuckle. He sat next to Jason on the couch and took out his supplies. “I married well, she married old.”
Jason pursed his lips and smiled. Stan had a way of putting people at ease, a trait Colt appreciated more than ever now that he felt himself on the verge of melting down. He wasn’t sure if his heart was racing because he was responding aggressively to the sight and scent of Jason’s blood or the fear that he would, but either way, he was keeping as much of a distance as he could without drawing suspicion. He’d already washed his hands clean, and had one clamped over his face in an attempt to block the scent further. How Stan managed to do what he did on a daily basis was beyond him.
“Thank you for coming. I’m sure you don’t usually make housecalls,” Jason mumbled.
“You’d be surprised. Besides, it’s not all that far away and Colt did me a solid earlier this week.” He hesitated as he rinsed Jason’s wound out with some sort of clear solution that looked like water. Jason didn’t wince, so Colt knew it wasn’t alcohol. “That is what the kids are saying these days, isn’t it?”
“God, this is so embarrassing. What a great first impression. I swear I don’t make a habit of getting drunk and making a fool out of myself.”
“What?” Stan asked, frowning in mock confusion. “Colt told me you were going to be a lawyer. You’d better get on it, then.”
Jason laughed. “And he told me you were a surgeon, but you seem like more of a comedian.”
“You know what they say, laughter is the best medicine,” Stan said with a
good-natured smile. “Besides, I find it’s best to get people to like me before I shoot them up with Lidocaine and stitches.”
Jason grimaced. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so, but not quite as badly as gangrene. It’ll help if you take deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. I’m sure Colt will hold your hand through it.”
Colt froze, staring at Stan like he’d gone mad. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Won’t I be in the way?” he asked pointedly.
“Nonsense. There’s plenty of room on his other side,” Stan said, peeling open a plastic-wrapped sterile needle. The needle itself was narrow and curved like a hook with a thick black thread coming off the bottom. Stan pulled a pair of long tweezers out of his sterilized tool kit and looked at Colt expectantly.
Colt approached the couch like he was the one about to have his knee stabbed with a needle. He reluctantly sat next to Jason, trying not to breathe. He put a hand on Jason’s back and rubbed, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t bloody.
“Remember. Deep breaths,” Stan said in a way that made Colt realize it was more for his benefit than Jason’s.
Jason took in a sharp breath and his whole body tensed up as he squeezed Colt’s arm, but he managed to keep his leg still. “Fuck, that burns.”
“Sorry,” said Stan. “The lidocaine’s almost worse sometimes. Now for the fun part.”
Jason winced, but he took all ten stitches like a trooper. Colt had no choice but to breathe sooner or later, and he had to trust that if he did snap, Stan would stop him. To his surprise, the more time that passed, the easier it got. He never felt quite desensitized to the alluring scent of Jason’s blood, but he eventually began to accept that he wasn’t an active threat to the man he loved.
As pissed as he’d been at Stan for insisting that he remain in the room, Colt found himself grateful when he realized the older ghoul was teaching him a lesson. He would have preferred not to use Jason’s wellbeing as a learning tool, but it was a good lesson all the same.
“All done,” Stan said, disinfecting the freshly stitched wound one more time before he bandaged it up. “That should hold you together until nature takes it course.”