Screw Trey. What he thought didn’t matter. Demi was through being a good boy or a brat. He was going to just be himself. With a nod to Kitty, he took a position in the middle of the dance floor. When the song playing ended, the opening strains of Evanescence’s Bring Me to Life filled the room. The sound effects of wind blowing and sirens wrapped around him, struck chords in his psyche that perfectly called up everything that he was feeling. The reminder of what the man he’d loved did for a living was helpful, not debilitating.
He twisted his body slowly in sync with the building speed of the haunting notes. He wore only yoga pants and a crop-top white T. Every line of his body was on full display. When the guitar strumming kicked in, he flipped his way over to the nearest stage. The boy that had been humping against it, leaped out off with a stunned look on his face.
Demi grabbed the pole and swung around it before climbing up to the top. He spread his arms out wide as he anchored himself by hooking one knee then he turned upside-down. But he wasn’t reaching out to anyone to save him. He needed only himself. Letting go, he tumbled onto the stage. Gasps reached his ears, making him grin because, of course, he landed on his feet then flitted away to the next stage.
He pirouetted across the dance floor in a whirling blur that was just this side of human. When he reached the next pole, he shimmied up and twirled around frontward and backward. He contorted his body in provocative poses, showing what he had to give to the right man, one who would appreciate his flexibility, strength and devotion.
Men gathered around the sides, clapping and whistling but not getting in his way when he once again moved on. He hugged the third pole, undulating against it in what he hoped was a sexy parody of fucking. With each snap of his hips, he flipped his hair and pouted. His focus became fixed on his movements, the way in which he was expressing his misery without words—and, all without the one person he really wanted to see and understand even being there. It was all he had, and yet he feared it wasn’t nearly enough, regardless.
As the music reached its crescendo, he back-flipped his way from one end of the dance floor to the other. Then he launched himself at the final pole, climbed all the way to the top and paused to fling his arms out once more before taking off in a swan dive. He somersaulted in a tight ball to yells that overtook the music before landing in a split. With his mouth popped open in a provocative O, he tore his shirt in two. He tossed the remnants just as he’d done a week ago, only this time, he had no man to aim for.
The room went deathly silent for the span of a few rapid heartbeats, then pandemonium broke out. The club members and go-go boys alike, including Mackie, Quinn and Jase, rushed forward to encircle him. He could see the leers as well as the concerns. He soaked up the former and ignored the latter. Just when his adoring audience arrived, they got shoved aside by a whole lot of pissed-off Val. The bouncer scooped Demi up with one arm latched around his middle like a steel vise.
Demi shrieked and struggled for about two seconds with futile effort before changing tactics. There was no way he’d get loose, so instead he blew kisses to the men left behind, treating his being carted away as part of the act. By the reaction of the men, he figured he’d succeeded. Now, all he had to do was weather the coming storm. Fortunately, his friends chased after them. He wouldn’t be alone in facing the music, as it were. Plus, he was sufficiently mad himself to not be concerned about his fate.
Once they’d all entered the elevator, he pushed at Val’s arm. “You can let me down now.”
“Hah, fat chance. I’ll release you once you’re with your fathers.” Val did, however, lower him so that his feet touched the floor.
No one said anything, not even Mackie. Demi was too upset to look at his friends. He didn’t want to see concern or worse, pity. In fact, as he stood there fuming, he realized he’d changed his mind. He didn’t want them around at all. They all had the men they loved. Petty as it might have been, he couldn’t stand their hearing how he’d been rejected by Trey—not yet, although they obviously knew something was up. He’d confide in them later.
When the elevator doors opened, he said, “Please, everyone, I don’t want an entourage right now.”
“We want to help,” Mackie pressed.
Quinn held him back. “It’s okay. We understand. You know we’re on your side, no matter what, right?”
Demi nodded as Val dragged him down to his family suite. Dad opened the door, because, of course, the one he hated disappointing the most would be front and center. Not that it mattered. Papa along with Alex popped over from the stairs a moment later.
“Demi, what is going on?” Papa demanded.
Dad put up his hand. “Come inside, all of you.”
It was so rare for the man to issue anything like an order to the others that no one balked at complying. Releasing his hold, Val gave Demi a nudge. He needn’t have bothered. While Demi wasn’t interested in having the conversation now, it was inevitable. He had to take a stand about the course of his life. His fathers stood side-by-side in the middle of the living room and patiently waited for someone to explain.
When no one else did, Demi sucked it up. “I was only dancing.”
Val snorted. “Is that your story? You were performing sex acts in the middle of the fucking dance floor.”
Demi rounded on the man. “Oh, that’s so not true! I was expressing my feelings with movement. And, I was killing it,” he added with a toss of his head.
“If visually jerking off every club member there is your definition of doing a good job, then yeah, I agree.” Val turned to Demi’s fathers. “Sorry to be blunt, guys.”
“Demi, what were you thinking?” Papa demanded.
“I wasn’t…thinking. I was trying not to think, actually. It was working, too, until this big ape came and spoiled everything.”
Alex stepped forward. “Demi, remember your place. That was neither respectful nor biologically accurate.” Their family leader rarely rebuked Demi directly, leaving that up to his fathers. And while the man was usually quite patient and kind with him, when he was angry, he could be very scary.
Demi coughed. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Besides,” Val added, “I was only doing what Duncan would have if he’d been here.”
The mention of his former lover made Demi gasp. He couldn’t help himself, nor could he resist rubbing his hand over his heart. “You’re wrong. He wouldn’t have cared. He doesn’t want me.”
Val snorted again. Alex rolled his eyes and turned away. Papa simply blinked back at him. It was Dad who stepped up and reached out to place his hand on Demi’s arm.
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
Demi shook off the hold and backed away. “It is! He told me himself. What he did last night was a favor.” He put as much venom as he could in the word. “He doesn’t want anything more to do with me—recommended, in fact, that I pursue other men to find out if he was actually a good lay or not. No reviews yet on my performance in bed.”
Dad flinched and Papa came up to hug him. “Demi!”
He threw out his arms. “What? What do you want me to say, Papa? I’m telling you the truth, whether you can handle it or not. You handed me off to the man I love, loved,” he amended because he wasn’t going to wear his heart on his sleeve anymore, “and he’s tossed me back.”
“Jesus, does this mean I have to kill Duncan?” Val mused. “I was really getting to like the human.”
Papa’s turned his head. “This is no time for levity, Val.”
“Who’s making a joke?”
“Stop!” Holding out his hands, Demi pleaded. “None of this is helping. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. It’s done, and this isn’t making me or the situation better.” He swiped at the tears leaking out. “I’m sorry if my dancing upsets you, but I’m grown now, right? I have to make my own decisions about the path I’m going to take. And, I can’t stay here.” He turned and ran. “Sorry!” he tossed over his shoulder and raced toward the stairs, half expecting
to be followed and hauled back.
No one did, and, half-blind with his despair, he sought a place of refuge.
Chapter Nine
Dafydd woke with a start, certain the sound of a baby had woken him. But no, that had surely been only a dream. He sat slouched in the large chair by the window, where he’d apparently fallen asleep while peering out at the world. There was so much to see and most of it new to him. He’d rarely left the castle in the hundreds of years during his captivity. All he knew of modern times had come from television and the Internet. Seeing people going about their business made him wonder if he could perhaps join them sometime, a thought both intriguing and frightening.
There was a scratching at his door that was not in his head. Before he could decide what to do, it opened and a figure slipped inside.
“Demi?”
The boy uttered a wounded sound before closing the door again and sliding down to sit against it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go. This is the only room in the club that the others won’t breach. Please, can I stay? It won’t be for long.”
Because he could hear both misery and fear in Demi’s voice, Dafydd could only bring himself to do one thing. “Sure you can, mun.” It felt strange to give anyone permission to do anything, let alone control who got to come and stay in the room.
He found he liked having even a minor, fleeting power.
Getting up, he crossed over in the gloom. He hadn’t opened the curtain much and feared doing so now would only upset Demi further. He turned on the lamp by the side of his bed and sat on the edge. Demi was clearly visible now, shirtless for some reason, his face crumpled and covered in silent tears.
“What’s happened, then?” He wasn’t certain he had any right to ask.
Demi swiped at his face and sniffled loudly. “It’s all gone to shit.”
Dafydd hesitated, still unsure that he should get involved, especially as he had nothing of use to offer. He’d gone from one prison to another, this second one of his own making if his ‘hosts’ could be believed. Who was he to help solve Demi’s problems when he was such a pathetic, scared man himself? And yet, he owed the boy something, didn’t he? Demi had risked his own life to see Dafydd through his delivery.
“Tell me. I can’t say it will do any good, but if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”
Demi pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, and for long seconds, it seemed as if he wasn’t going to speak. That was okay. He could stay as long as he liked. It wasn’t as if he was interrupting anything.
“I had my manhood ceremony last night. Um, you know, I guess maybe something like that was done for your sons.”
Dafydd immediately started shutting down at the mention of his horror twins. He shook himself out of it before it went too far. The time when Dracul and his seed could hurt him was past.
He cleared his throat. “I remember when they reached an age where Dracul threw a couple of slaves at them to brutalize.” He swallowed back the lump that formed in his throat. “I suppose it was something of a milestone in their lives.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have assumed that, given what I know about the asshole. It was different for me. My fathers handed me over to the man I love. Loved. I don’t feel that way anymore.”
“Don’t you now?” There was something in Demi’s tone that made Dafydd skeptical.
Demi shook his head violently. “No. It didn’t mean anything to him. Taking my virginity was like a job or something. A ‘favor’ was how he put it.”
Dafydd winced. “That’s harsh, mun.” Something clicked in his brain in the next instant. “Are you talking about the man who came to rescue you? The one who killed Kronid and fed you his vein while you gave me a transfusion?”
“That’s him, the rat bastard.”
Dafydd laughed. He couldn’t help it. The sound bubbled up of its own accord, and it was so foreign sounding to his own ears, he almost didn’t recognize it. Clamping his hand over his mouth, he pushed the mirth back down. Now was not the time for him to rediscover his sense of humor. Demi was shooting daggers out of his eyes.
“I’m that sorry, Demi. I don’t mean to make light of your unhappiness, but there’s no way that man doesn’t love you.”
“Shows how much you know”—the boy crossed his arms—“because you’re wrong. He doesn’t.”
“Demi, I was staring at him when he shot Kronid. I didn’t think I had any more fear left in me, but the look in his eyes was that fierce. He wanted to kill him, and what reason could he have to hate the fucker other than knowing he was preying on you? And, I know how scary it is to be fed upon. He offered you his blood out of love. There is no other explanation.”
“Then, why doesn’t he want me?” The question came out in a heartbreaking wail, and yes, Dafydd was surprised he still had enough of the organ to be capable of feeling another’s pain.
Hopping off the bed, Dafydd went to sit cross-legged in front of Demi. “Did he say as much? Did he use those words?”
Demi sniffed. “Not exactly.” When Dafydd simply sat and stared, the boy elaborated. “He said I was too young to make a commitment to anyone, that I should get more experience and come back to him in ten years if I still wanted him.”
“Ah.”
“Ah, what?”
“He’s trying to be noble, mun. Can’t you see that?”
Demi leaned forward. “I don’t want that of him. I love him and told him as much. I had assumed we’d get married. Pathetic, dumb shit that I am.”
Dafydd sat back on his hands. “Long ago, when I was a bit of a lad, I used to spy on the lord’s men as they bathed in the river. I was ever so worried I’d get caught and flogged—or worse.”
Funny how he hadn’t thought of his youth in so long—hadn’t dared, given that it was so far removed from his reality. “There was one in particular that caught my fancy. He wasn’t the biggest or brawniest for the lot, but he was wicked with a blade, quick on his feet. I used to weave fantasies of what it would be like to be his.”
He took in a shuddery breath and let it out slowly. “You know how my story ends, then, heh? Dracul gave me no choice and dragged my dreams through the mud. For a long time, I thought God was punishing me for my unnatural desires. That is, back when I believed in such a thing as God.”
“I’m sorry, Dafydd.” Demi stared back at him with wide eyes. “I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”
Dafydd quirked his lips. “Me, as well. It did, though, and my point is that after the shock of it wore off, I started plotting my escape. I gave it a few tries then stopped because the punishment was too great. Still, I bided my time, pretended to be cowed. For a while, I managed to keep from getting pregnant again. And when that plan failed, I schemed some more.
“I only truly lost hope in the last few months. Dracul had taken Brenin. I saw in him myself, only he wasn’t going to survive the brutality for long. That, plus my cumbersome belly, left me with little choice. I tried to save him while giving up on myself. I could also see my eventual death in the monster’s eyes every time he looked at me. I had hesitated too long.”
“You lived, though, because freeing Brenin proved pivotal in the assault on the castle. You saved yourself in the end.”
“Hmm, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.” It hadn’t occurred to him that his helping Brenin had eventually helped himself. Up until that point, he hadn’t wanted to discuss any of it. “Thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome, except, I’m sorry this isn’t making me feel better.” The boy made a face that reminded Dafydd how young he actually was.
“Oh, well then, I guess what I truly mean is don’t give up. What you want isn’t gone simply because it hasn’t worked in the short term. There’s always hope, so long as there is another day to try again. Funny hearing me say it, I know, given that I hide in this room.”
“No, I get it. You’re more than just some ghost guest. You have experience and you’re not wrong. I just don’t hav
e much time to get Trey to change his mind.”
“What’s your hurry, then?”
Demi raised his eyebrows. “He’s human, remember? And not a very young one at that. If we’re going to make a life together, we need to get a move on. Plus, I’m not sure I’m that patient, and I for sure don’t want to sleep around with other men. Trey’s all I want and has been since the moment I saw him.”
“Huh. You think if you fed him your blood that would prolong his life? That would solve one problem. His stubbornness, not so much, I’m thinking.” That got a smile out of Demi, and seeing it lifted Dafydd’s spirits a little.
“I honestly don’t know. He’s too old to, you know, change.”
Dafydd instinctively palmed his abdomen. “I understand. You should ask the doctor, though. He might have an idea.”
“You mean my papa?”
“No, I was thinking of the other one.” The human man with the warm brown eyes and the gentle touch.
“Oh, Dr. Paz. I doubt he’d know. But I should ask Papa.” He sighed. “If I hadn’t just told him and my dad and everyone else to fuck off.”
Dafydd’s widened his eyes. “You never?”
“Not in so many words. But that was the gist of it. Everyone thinks they know what’s best for me. I’m sick of it, and I’m hiding out here because I can’t face them again yet.” Demi dropped his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do!”
“Sure you do. You got him to love you, make no mistake on that. Now, all you need to do is figure out how to get him to admit it. It can’t be that hard. He’s only a man, and men are stupid.”
Demi looked up and frowned. “We’re men.”
“Exactly. And look at us, sitting in a gloomy room, fretting over things we could change if only we’d get our bottle up.”
“Huh?”
“Courage, Demi. It means having the guts to do what you need to. It may be too late for me. I honestly don’t know. But we will fix your problem. We only have to come up with a plan.”
Mating Dance Page 15