Trey shot him an admonishing look, yet ultimately said nothing when Demi joined them. “So, Damien, I got some information from other sources about a new pimp controlling the boys out on the street.” He went on to describe someone that sounded way too familiar.
Demi’s stomach dropped at the growing suspicion that one of Dracul’s men or sons had infiltrated Boston. For a brief second, he managed to convince himself that he was being overwrought. Then he caught Trey’s grim look and understood that no, he was right on point. The cop was worried about the same thing.
Damien listened and nodded. “Yeah, maybe. I’ve heard some whispering about a mean motherfucker edging out the competition. The boys are more skittish than usual, that’s for sure.”
“Do you know a boy named Mateo?”
“Um, yup. I do. He’s been out there a while, a little older than me, I think.”
“Could you help us track him down? We’d like to ask him a few questions.”
Damien snorted. “Nah, you’re playing me now, Sergeant. I show up anywhere with you two in tow and I’m going to get a rep as a snitch. No one will trust me afterward, and they won’t give you shit anyway. You know that.”
Trey pressed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. Demi wanted to jump up and massage the tension out of him. He sat on his hands instead, determined to be a good boy and not a distraction.
“Right, I do know that. I still need to get more info on this pimp.”
“You think he had something to do with Father Ted’s murder?”
“You tell me. Father Ted tried to get the boys off the street, right? Not exactly a popular move with the men preying on these kids and making money off them.”
Damien nodded. “I hear that. So, how about I do the asking without you?”
Trey shared a look with Anderson. Neither of them liked that idea. It was clear from their expressions. “That could be dangerous. I don’t want any attention on you when you’re isolated.”
“There already is. I worked with Father Ted for months. And, Emil and I are scoping out a spot to rent near the church to establish a new soup kitchen. Talking to boys I used to hang with is a thing I do. Nothing out of the ordinary, and hey, I can take care of myself.”
Not against my people, you can’t. “How about I go with him?” The offer was out of Demi’s mouth before he could think better of it.
Trey turned hard eyes on him. “No fucking way.”
A little frisson ran through him. He liked it when Trey went all alpha male on him. “Why not?” He tried batting his eyes.
Trey’s expression turned even stonier. “Because if I allowed that, your fathers would kill me and dine on my entrails.”
That was sort of true in the very literal sense of the expression. “I’ll be fine. Like Damien, I can take care of myself.”
“He’s surprisingly strong for a skinny dude,” Damien agreed.
“No.” When Demi opened his mouth again, Trey simply repeated himself. “No.”
Now Demi stamped his foot. He couldn’t help himself. “You’re being ridiculous, Sergeant Duncan.” He worked to keep his tone calm and firm. “You’ve seen how capable I am. And, it’s not as if I’m heading into a fight or anything. Damien and I are just going to hang out on the streets and chat with other guys. Right?” he added, giving Damien a pointed look.
“Um.” The kid’s gaze ping-ponged between Demi and Trey. “I guess. That’s what you’re asking me to do, right?” he asked Trey. “It’s not like we’re going undercover or anything freaky like that. Truth be told, most of the boys I’d approach are more Demi’s age than mine. He might do better if they think he’s one of them.”
“See?” Demi flashed Trey a sweet smile. “I’ll be fine, and Damien will be safer with me.” He shrugged. “Honestly, it’s not as if I need your permission to go out in public and hang with some—”
He squeaked as Trey grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of his chair and across the kitchen. Although he could have put up a fight, and probably would have won, instead he let his man pull him into the pantry and slam the door behind them. The overhead light popped on and Trey stared at him with furious eyes.
“Are you out of your fucking mind—or are you just trying to drive me either crazy or into an early grave?”
Demi didn’t answer immediately, not sure if it was a rhetorical question or not. He didn’t get a chance to say anything anyway.
Trey kept going, his fingers pressing into Demi’s flesh. “Seriously? Being snatched off the streets for your little adventure in Wales wasn’t exciting enough for you? Are you that unfazed by having been mauled by Dracul’s asshole guard that you’d risk something like that again, because you do know that odds are whoever this new pimp is he’s one of them? Maybe one of the twins, God help us all.”
Trey’s chest was heaving as if he’d run a long time. His pupils were blown wide with either anger or arousal. Both? Demi didn’t dare look down to check.
His mind digested the mini-rant and latched onto something. “Wait! You know about what Kronid did? How? I was careful to keep it from Papa.”
Trey’s lip curled. “I’m a cop, remember? And my former boyfriend works vice. I know all about how kidnappers and hostage-takers brutalize their captives. I didn’t need anyone to tell me what you’d been suffering all that time. I was scared, still am, that it was worse than what it appeared to be.”
“No,” Demi was quick to reassure him. He put his palm on Trey’s chest. He could feel the rapid beat of the man’s heart. Hear it. “He only groped me like some stupid villain in a John Hughes movie. It was nothing.” He tried to be cool about it, but his voice hitched in the end.
Trey pulled him in closer. “No, it wasn’t. Shooting that fucker was the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done. If your kind didn’t turn to dust, I would have gladly emptied my clip in him.”
“Really?”
Trey nodded, and their gazes stayed locked. Tension mounted between them like a tangible thing. Demi’s dick went into overdrive. God. He wanted this man inside him. His hole clenched painfully, launching him forward on a whine. Before he could stop himself, his mouth slammed into Trey’s.
The moment their lips touched, there was no holding either of them back. It wasn’t only Demi that wanted this. Whatever discipline that had been keeping Trey in check up to that point snapped. He yanked Demi flush against his body. They clawed at each other, trying to close the gaps that remained. Teeth and tongue entered the fray, a rough kiss that was nevertheless better than anything Demi had ever imagined.
With his erection pressed painfully against his fly, he couldn’t help humping Trey’s pelvis. There were close in height, so no surprise when his hard cock brushed up against an equally firm one. He moaned at the delightful friction then whimpered when Trey surprised him by cupping his ass and pressing the dicks together.
He wants me as much as I do him.
The discovery was thrilling. Every dream was coming true and forget about any dumb ceremony. His man was dry fucking him right here in the pantry. Demi’s breath sped up and his cock swelled and jerked. His fangs punched down before he could hold them in check. He nicked Trey’s lip by accident and the taste of the man flooded his mouth.
Delicious.
This was better than it had been before when necessity had driven them to it. The small amounts of blood he sucked in tasted better than what he’d consumed in Wales. As it trickled down his throat, he convulsed in an orgasm that left him mindless. He thrashed his way through, moaning and huffing into Trey’s mouth. His man held him tightly as he rode the wave and shuddered into the end.
Breathless and limp, Demi let his head loll back. Trey’s handsome face wavered through Demi’s blurry gaze. A bead of blood welled up on the man’s lower lip. Demi flicked out his tongue to lap it up and close the small wound.
Trey’s grip tightened. “Oh my fucking God.”
Demi gave him a lazy smile, feeling more content that he had for
weeks. Except, he wiggled his hips. Trey was still hard. He hadn’t come.
“Oh.” He reached down between them to palm the length through the fabric of Trey’s pants. “Let me help with this.”
Trey grabbed his hand by the wrist. “No. Don’t. This has gotten way out of line. This isn’t the ceremony.”
Demi’s eyelids drooped. “I know. Isn’t it awesome?”
“No. I mean, yes, this was great, but no, we have to stop now. It’s not…sanctioned.”
“Who cares about that?”
Demi didn’t wait for a reply. His imagination had already been cut loose. Using his superior strength, he freed himself and dropped to his knees. His otherworldly speed had Trey’s pants open and his dick out before the man could utter another word of protest. Then Demi dove right in, putting his mouth around Trey’s cock, robbing the man of the power of speech.
At least that was his interpretation of the animalistic sound that passed the man’s lips before he dropped his hands and leaned against the pantry door. Demi had no real idea of what he was doing, yet he didn’t care. The feel of Trey’s heavy shaft on his tongue was mind-blowing. It was the best treat he’d ever had, almost. The salty pre-cum slid down his throat the same way the blood had, reminding him of the one thing that he loved to consume the most. So long as it was Trey’s.
He could have spent hours feasting on the hard flesh, except the moment he took it all the way down and swallowed, Trey spasmed. The dick swelled and cum spurted out with surprising force. He pulled back to work the dick with his tongue in order to get more of a taste.
Curse words flooded over his head as he milked Trey completely dry. Only when Trey uttered a weak plea to stop did Demi let the cock slide completely out of his mouth. He licked his lips to get every drop and sat back on his heels. He smiled shyly at Trey.
The man still had his eyes closed. He banged his head against the door a couple of time. “Your fathers are going to kill me. That’s assuming I don’t slit my wrists with guilt.”
With a frown, Demi stood. “You’re being melodramatic. You’re not going to kill yourself and my fathers aren’t going to find out.”
Trey’s eyes opened to slits. “You think Karl and Damien have any doubt about what’s going on in here?”
“And why would they tell anyone?” he countered. He waved at his front. “There is no visible evidence, either. My T-shirt is covering up the cum stain and I didn’t spill a bit of yours.”
Trey grunted and stood straight. He put himself to rights in quick order, disappointing Demi, who would have liked to do it for him. “We’re not doing this again, and you’re not going out with Damien.”
“I can wait until the ceremony to get my hands on you, but I am going to help Damien ask around.” Before Trey could argue further, Demi rushed on. “Think about it. Damien doesn’t know the score about what could truly be going on. He can’t protect himself if he’s in the dark, and even if we tell him, he’s still at risk. Someone who isn’t a cop or big and scary like Val has to watch out for the guy and keep his ears open to information that wouldn’t mean anything to Damien but would prove useful. I’m the logical one. You know I am,” he added, folding his arms.
“Even if I agree, your fathers never will.”
“They won’t have a choice if Alex orders them to let me.”
“Which he won’t if it upsets your parents.”
“He will if you convince him of its wisdom. You know it makes sense.”
Trey closed his eyes again for a second and ran his hand over his head. “Fuck me.”
Demi hid a smile. “I intend to on Friday. Before then, let me go out and see what’s going on. None of us are safe if one of Dracul’s minions is out there. Whoever he is, he wouldn’t have bothered to come to Boston just to be a pimp. He could do that anywhere. He’s here to cause us trouble. We’ll be back to playing defense if we don’t get ahead of whatever trouble is brewing now.”
“Fuck me,” Trey said again, although this time his tone sounded more resigned. “Come on. Let’s go talk to Alex.”
Demi tried not to show how gleeful he was at winning their first argument as a couple. Friday couldn’t come fast enough.
* * * *
“Thanks for letting me ride along, guys.” Ric leaned onto his elbows as he peered through the space between the front seats. He felt a like a dog on a family trip, but that was fine. Having spent the day in the morgue, a place without windows and where one could easily lose track of time, Ric was happy to be outdoors. The night was warm enough and the idea of playing cop appealed to whatever little boy was left in him.
“I’ve always wanted to do a stake-out,” he confessed.
Duncan glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Technically this is a tail. Although, it looks like Damien and Demi are going to hang around this spot for a while.”
The tight lines along the man’s mouth conveyed how stressed he was about their night’s activities. No surprise there. Ric had seen for himself in Wales the closeness of the cop and the hybrid son of the alien doctor and his human husband. He couldn’t imagine that Duncan would have gone along with Demi being out and about with the street kids if there had been a better choice.
“That’s good.” He wanted to be reassuring. “We’ve got a great view of what’s happening. I can’t see how they can come to harm here. It’s too public.”
Duncan’s expression managed to turn extra grim. “You’d think, but shit happens in the blink of an eye and you’re royally fucked.”
Ric knew when to back off. He’d learned that lesson working in the ED, where he had to balance accurate assessments of a patient’s condition with hope. Some people were more willing than others to grasp any thread of it, while others were too savvy to let go of any amount of worry. Duncan fell squarely in the latter category. Of course, he did. He was a cop. He’d seen the worst and would see even more of it before his career ended.
So, Ric focused on the positive aspects of the night’s doings. He’d been itching from the beginning to insert himself more into the aliens’ lives. Although he’d expressed it as scientific curiosity, he really had to face the fact that it was more personal than that. As a child, he’d loved sci-fi in all its forms. What could be better than to learn that there was at least one other world out there with intelligent life, and like every sci-fi movie made, those creatures had come to Earth. The vampire intersection only made the whole thing more awesome.
What had happened in Wales had been an off-the-charts stupendous journey. He’d dreamed about it, especially the wan young man who was actually centuries old. Ric relived the moment when he’d helped pull a squalling hybrid from a male body. Surreal didn’t begin to cover it. Nor did he have any words to describe what it was like to hold Dafydd in his arms, tend to him, heal him from his most recent trauma. That face, that ethereal, beautiful face, haunted him. Parting from him once they’d reached Boston had been harder than he could have imagined. As inappropriate and pointless as it was, he was looking for any excuse to see Dafydd again.
The opportunity had come in form of sitting in an unmarked car with two casually-dressed cops, watching a bunch of homeless teens pass around obvious bottles of booze in paper bags and fatties. Ric’s ass had already started to go numb and he was bored as fuck but also intrigued and a little frightened. If what Duncan had said was true, they’d brought the danger from Wales that they hadn’t stamped out back with them. And that was his ticket to this slow-moving drama. If things went south and Demi or anyone else ended up injured, Ric was there with more medical supplies at his fingertips than the AMA would have normally sanctioned for a doctor to carry around. It was, according to Duncan, the terms set by Demi’s fathers.
It was good to be useful. He wasn’t going to be any help in a direct confrontation, but unlike Harry, he was probably entirely unknown to whoever had been in the castle. He hadn’t been part of a fight, so he’d hopefully remained unseen as well. Anderson hadn’t been there at all, meani
ng he was also possibly not on anyone’s radar. If Duncan was a known quantity, even an alien with their extraordinary eyesight would be hard put to notice him under the ball cap set low on his face. The deceptively piece-of-shit car they sat in blended into the general environment, even though it was illegally parked.
Anderson passed him small binoculars. “Do any of those boys look like Mateo?”
This was another possible good use for him. They were looking for the kid he’d treated, and while the sous chef, Damien, professed to know him, Duncan figured it couldn’t hurt to have Ric scanning around, too.
Ric peered through the lens at the loose group gathered on the Esplanade. The sight of all those lost children tugged at his heart. Tossed or chased away from their families or having slipped through the cracks in a system intended to help them, they had few choices. Drugs and alcohol numbed their pain, while selling their bodies earned enough to buy more. It was a vicious cycle that evil people preyed upon. For that alone, Ric wanted to help catch this alien fucker exploiting vulnerable humans.
The magnification allowed him to see Demi more clearly. The boy had already been leaving with Damien by the time Duncan had picked Ric up. He’d only seen the hybrid from a distance since returning from Wales. He was surprised by how much the kid had changed. He looked different in ways that were hard to pin down. It wasn’t only the streak of red hair dangling alongside his face or the grubby clothes he wore. There was something about his features that appeared more mature, as if he’d aged a year in mere weeks. He still looked painfully young, just not as much, which undoubtedly was part of the stress eating away at Duncan. Ric could relate, given that Dafydd had the face of a teenager despite his ancient age.
Shutting down his own musings, he swept the view of the binoculars down the messy line to the far end then held it there as he fussed with the magnification. “I think I see him.”
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