Blood Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  “Then I’m quitting.”

  Mackie looked alarmed. “No, don’t. Please, don’t do that for me. It will only make me feel guilty.” He offered a watery smile. “Alex is a good guy and I think he really likes you. You don’t want to throw away a good thing just because of me.” Mackie shrugged. “I’m surprised Val could stand me for so long.”

  “Don’t say that. You’re great.”

  “Thanks.” He shrugged again and scrubbed at his tears. “Anyway, I don’t know what’s going on, but that psycho is after you. You’re safer here until they catch him.”

  Quinn let his arms drop to his side. “I suppose. Text me later tonight to let me know you’re okay?”

  Mackie gave him a quick hug. “Sure. We’ll keep in touch.” He got into the car. “Don’t worry about me. I always land on my feet.”

  With that, Mackie shut the door and the car drove off. Quinn watched until it was out of sight. Turning back to the club, he banged into a wall of granite. Alex reached to steady him, but Quinn batted his hands away.

  “Don’t touch me. I’m mad at you. And I don’t know when I’m going to stop being mad at you.”

  Alex sighed and stepped back. “I understand. Please come back inside. I want you out of harm’s way.”

  “I know.” Even as he said it, though, Quinn wondered whether he was safer inside than out. His heart wasn’t. That much he knew.

  * * * *

  Quinn’s grandfather had always said that hard work was all the therapy a man needed. Quinn’s job now involved dancing around a pole. Even with the club temporarily closed, he still benefited from getting in some practice. It beat lying around, angry at Alex and worried about Mackie, so he folded his clothing on a chair and, wearing only his boxer-briefs, he padded out to one of the stages. Kitty, as usual, was working behind the bar. She seemed to spend an endless amount of time polishing everything within her domain, whether it needed it or not. He supposed his grandfather’s adage applied to women, as well.

  He shot her a smile that held no happiness. “Would you mind cuing up Mercy for me? I feel like dancing to a ballad.”

  Kitty gave him a nod. “Sure, kid.” She switched the sound system from the local alternative rock station to the Shawn Mendes song. Then she went into the back, probably because Kitty only liked the hardcore stuff.

  As the first strains began, he wrapped himself around the pole and slowly swayed. Maybe his subconscious mind had picked this particular song more for the lyrics than the music. As he gyrated against the pole, he concentrated on the words and thought they fit his feelings perfectly. Given his growing feelings for Alex the Alien, as he was starting to think of him, the guy had the power to both literally and figuratively drain him of all he was. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to survive that kind of relationship.

  Regardless, losing himself in the music and the movement made him feel better. By the time the chorus began, he was confident enough to jump, grab the pole and twirl his way to the bottom again. His movement became more fluid and athletic. He twisted and flipped in tempo with the music, feeling almost carefree for a few minutes. He smiled seductively to his imaginary audience, although in his mind’s eye, there was only one man watching him. He showed his imaginary Alex how much—despite perhaps his better judgment—he wanted him still, in the way he undulated and posed his body around the pole.

  His concentration was broken halfway through by the sudden appearance of Demi. The boy bounced out of nowhere and jumped onto the neighboring stage. He mimicked Quinn’s current contortion then continued to mirror his every move as if they’d been practicing for Olympic-level synchronized pole dancing for years. It was unnerving and distracting at first, but Quinn soon decided it was a disarming and exhilarating way to dance. And, naturally, their routine shifted so that soon it was the younger boy leading the way.

  Demi drove Quinn to a new level. They turned upside down and spread their legs into a wide V before shifting upright again and swinging around by one leg. It was scary how well this sixteen-year-old virgin kid knew how to make love to the pole, but when the song and the dancing ended, Quinn felt as if he’d received the best lesson ever.

  Hopping off his stage, Demi clapped with genuine-looking appreciation. “That was awesome. Hard to believe you’ve only being doing this for like a week.”

  Quinn smiled in response to the praise and grabbed his towel to wipe off. “Thanks, and it’s hard to believe you’re not a go-go boy at all. Your fathers must have fits when they see you.”

  Demi made a face and folded his arms. “They don’t get me.”

  “Says every teenager always.” He frowned. “Including me, I guess. Don’t you have schoolwork?”

  “Ugh, you sound like Mackie.”

  The reminder of the other boy brought back the horrible memory of what had happened only a few hours ago. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “Me, neither.” The boy came over and sat on the edge of Quinn’s stage. “This place is even more boring than usual without him and I’m stuck here for the duration.”

  Quinn joined him. “Your parents only want you to be safe.”

  “I know.” Demi waved his hands as if in a panic. “Adrian’s on the loose. Dracul’s restarted the war. Aah!” He folded his arms like the kid he was and pouted. “I don’t know why we all have to suffer because of some stupid power grab by dumb aliens.”

  Quinn hid his smile because, in his own childish way, Demi had expressed Quinn’s feelings in a nutshell. “I expect it’s weird for you, being half-alien.”

  “It sucks.” He blew out a breath. “Except for the superpowers—you know, brains and strength. Those I like, but I burn like a bitch if I don’t slather on the sunscreen—and I’m starting to crave blood. That’s a bummer. I was hoping I’d take after my human dad more. I mean, Lucien is really smart and pretty strong for a human of his size without all that ‘I want to suck your blood’ bullshit.”

  Quinn chuckled. “Yeah, but you really can’t take after someone when you don’t share his DNA.”

  Demi quirked his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  “You know, you’re half your bio mother, not Lucien.”

  “Um…” Turning more fully toward him, Demi said, “My dad said Alex had told you about us.”

  “Sure. I know that Alex, your father and the other Stelalux family members are alien. So, you’re half-alien.” He wasn’t sure what the boy was getting at.

  Demi nodded. “Right, I’m half-alien because my other dad is human. Harry and Lucien made me—you know, as in the traditional sense of sperm meeting egg. Then Lucien incubated me until Harry cut me out of his womb and ta-da!” He held his arms out wide.

  It took a second for Quinn to process what the boy was saying. “Oh, I’m sorry. So, Lucien is a transgender man. Mackie said he and Harry had used a surrogate, and I just assumed he knew what he was talking about.”

  “No,” Demi replied with a shake of his head. He opened his mouth to say more, but Quinn’s phone ringing interrupted him.

  “Sorry.” Despite curiosity about what Demi was talking about, Quinn couldn’t ignore the call. It might be Mackie, and he didn’t want the boy to feel cut off any more than he already did.

  Racing back to where he’d left his pants, he saw that it was the other boy and answered it. “Hey, Mackie, how are you?”

  “Hi.” The voice on the other end sounded watery, as if Mackie had been crying, which he probably had.

  “How are you doing?”

  A long breath blew across the line. “Oh, hanging in there.”

  Feeling helpless and stupid, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” There was a long pause, then, “I, um, need a favor from you.”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  Mackie gave him a brief and bitter-sounding laugh. “You might regret saying that.” The boy grunted as if in pain.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. You know me. I’m tough.”


  Only in some ways. “How can I help you, Mackie? Just name it.”

  “Ah, yeah, so, I need you to come to me.”

  Aware that Demi was overhearing everything, Quinn walked away from the bar and spoke quietly into the receiver. “Come to you. Why?”

  “I’ve got myself in kind of a jam.” He chuckled unconvincingly. “Again. Classic me, huh? I can’t really explain it over the phone.”

  “I’m not supposed to leave the club.”

  “Right. Alex’s orders, I bet.”

  “He’s worried that the psycho killer is going to come after me again.”

  “Sure. I get it. That idiot serial killer is stupid enough to try it.” There was another muted grunt.

  “Mackie, are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Absolutely.” This time, his words held an obvious note of pain. “I just need you to trust me. Call for an Uber and I’ll text you the address. You go right from building to the car to your destination. Easy, and no way the killer can get at you. Please,” he added and the undertone of fear was real.

  Quinn tightened his grip. “Okay, I’ll come.”

  “Thanks.” Relief laced the one word. “I owe you.”

  “Not as much as I owe you.”

  Mackie sniffed. “I was a real asshole to you at first.”

  “Only at first. We’re friends now, right?”

  “Right. So, I’ll text the address and you’ll come right over? It’s still light out, for what it’s worth.”

  “That doesn’t seem to matter anymore, but I’m coming. No worries.”

  “Don’t tell Alex.” Before Quinn could think of a suitable reply, Mackie continued. “Or Val. If he finds out I lured you away from the club, he’ll beat my ass for sure. And you know how much I hate that,” he added with another sniff. “I can’t believe I suffered his sadism for so long.”

  Quinn’s mind practically started smoking as it processed those statements in the millisecond he knew he had to respond. “Yes, I do know…how much you hated his BDSM games.”

  “I did it for the money. I really am a slut. So, you’ll come and not tell anyone?”

  “Count on it.”

  “I am.” With that, Mackie ended the call.

  The text with an address that he didn’t recognized popped up seconds later. Quinn stared at if for long seconds, firming in his mind what he was going to do.

  “What’s going on?” Demi was suddenly standing right next to him, trying to read his text.

  Quinn hugged the phone to his chest. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  The boy gave him a pointed look. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I’m not. Go do your homework or something.”

  The boy responded with a word his fathers probably didn’t like him using, but Quinn wasn’t listening. He raced to the stairs, his plan solidifying as he took them as fast as he could. Time was not on his side and Mackie needed him. There was really only one path for him to take.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “This night might not be such another bust after all.” Trey sat straighter in his seat behind the wheel, giving his numb ass a much-needed reprieve. Two nights of nothing going on had left him thinking his stakeout plan had been pointless.

  Karl was more sluggish. He stilled, leaning against the passenger seat window, a cup of coffee dangling from his fingers. “With much of the city on self-inflicted lockdown, I’m surprised this kid is leaving his sanctuary. I bet the Uber driver is happy to get a fare, though.”

  The sun hadn’t quite set, but that didn’t mean it was safe to wander around now that a third body had turned up. And yet, Quinn Cooper had just run out from the alley next to the club and was jumping into a sedan parked at the curb.

  “He’s sneaking out, like a kid breaking curfew.”

  “You think Stelalux has that kind of power over him?”

  Starting the car, he threw his partner a quick glance. “You’ve seen the guy. What do you think?”

  “I think maybe the boy needs protection if he has to skulk about.”

  “Maybe, but not our call unless he asks. In the meantime, let’s follow him and see where it takes us. This might be a lead and even if it isn’t, we got nothing better to do.”

  “Says the man who has no social life.”

  Trey started to pull out to follow the car at a discreet distance before the sight of two motorcycles had him hitting the brakes. They tore out of the same alley that Quinn had. The riders were hidden behind huge, full-face helmets and clad all in black leather. Their identities may as well have been written on signs trailing behind them.

  “Well, well,” Karl drawled. “Looks like the boy hasn’t slipped his leash quite as effectively as he thought.”

  “There’s no garage off that alley,” he replied, pulling out to now follow the bikes. “He must have seen them parked there, which means he knows they’re behind him. It’s not an escape attempt.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m keen to find out.” With traffic lighter than usual and this not being a chase, it was easy to keep about a block away from the bikes, who were keeping about the same distance from the car carrying Quinn. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a convoy.”

  Karl snickered. “Let’s hope it’s worth it, otherwise we’re idiots. Maybe this is a family outing to escape the hysteria gripping the city.”

  “Nah, if that were the case, Quinn would be riding bitch behind his boyfriend. The bikes are certainly big enough for two.”

  “Yeah, those babies are Harley Wide Glides.” Karl sighed with obvious envy. “Of course they are. That machine is built for big guys.”

  “It gives them more flexibility, too. They can separate and sneak through tighter spots. I wonder where this is leading. Probably nowhere.”

  Even as he said the words, he couldn’t squelch the hope that the case might break open that night.

  * * * *

  “Are you sure about this address, dude?”

  The driver had a good point. Mackie had sent him to a spot by the harbor that was both industrial and currently vacant. Quinn checked his phone. “Yeah, this is it.”

  The guy driving turned to look at him. “There isn’t anything here except shipping containers, man. I mean, you do know there’s a freaky killer on the loose, ya? Maybe your friend wanted you to meet him at Castle Island or something, not that I’d advise doing any sightseeing right now.”

  Quinn unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled the handle on his door. “Thanks. I’ll be fine. You should probably leave right away, though.”

  “You got that right.” The guy took off the moment Quinn had shut the door again.

  The sun was setting and there wasn’t anyone or anything stirring that he could tell. He wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his thighs and started moving. Mackie had said to meet him at the end of the pier. The eerie setting had him remembering every stupid horror flick he’d ever seen where multiple dumb teenagers met their inevitable end. Apparently, Adrian hadn’t seen those flicks or maybe his species thought he was that gullible.

  Regardless, with each step he took, Quinn knew that he was heading into an ambush. He had no doubts about that, but he couldn’t abandon Mackie. If he didn’t show, the boy would be killed for sure. This way, there was a slim chance that at least Mackie would survive and he hoped they both would. As terrified as he was, though, Quinn would never be able to live with himself if he’d stayed nice and safe at the club while this showdown occurred.

  He slowly made his way past shipping containers lined up like colorful dominos. The only sounds he heard were his own tentative steps, the whipping of the wind and the occasional screech of a seagull. When he’d first arrived in Boston, he’d been delighted by the birds. Now they just freaked him the fuck out—like harbingers of doom.

  Before he reached the last group, Mackie stepped out from behind it. The fear on the boy’s face was visible, even to Quinn’s human eyes. “I’m sorry.”
>
  Quinn didn’t have a chance to reassure him. A tall, dark figure loomed behind Mackie. His hand landed on Mackie’s shoulder, making him cry out in obvious pain. The guy shoved the boy to his knees and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head backward.

  “Come here or I’ll snap it off.”

  Quinn had no doubt Adrian could do what he threatened. Despite every fiber of his being telling him to turn and run, he put one foot in front of the other. He kept his pace slow, giving Alex and Val time to do whatever it was they intended. And they would do something to stop this madness and save him and Mackie. He was sure of it, and his confidence in Alex was what had led him to go to the man in the first place. Once Mackie had clued him in to being under duress, the decision to go to Alex had been easy. This wasn’t a movie and he wasn’t some idiotic teenager running headlong into an obvious trap.

  He kept his gaze on Mackie. Tears streamed down the poor kid’s face and there was another bruise added to the one from the day before. Quinn realized, too, that Mackie held his right arm awkwardly to his side. His injuries testified to how the boy must have fought his captor before he’d made the call to Quinn. Not that it mattered. In the face of such monstrousness, anyone would have cracked. Quinn could hardly hold this ambush against Mackie. They were both pawns in an alien war.

  “It’s all right. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Mackie whimpered and flinched, although whether from Quinn’s seemingly hollow words or the grip on his hair, Quinn couldn’t tell. He flicked his gaze to Adrian’s face because he wanted to know the moment when the guy realized Quinn wasn’t alone. He had no idea whether Alex and Val would attack from in front or behind or some combination. He didn’t dare take his eyes off Mackie, regardless.

  “Police!”

  Wait, what? Oh, fuck! That was Duncan’s voice. How the hell did he get here? No way Alex called him. Quinn stopped in his tracks.

  “Let the boy go and put your hands in the air. Now!”