Smoke Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  God, that’s practically a non-answer. “Will you be gone long?”

  Val shrugged. “Don’t wait up for me, if that’s what you mean. Call if you need feeding—and don’t overdo it.” He nodded at Annika, although she was paying no attention, before continuing on his way.

  Mackie felt a rush of sudden tears. His husband might as well have said, ‘none of your fucking business’ for all the information he was giving these days. Despite being completely attentive to Mackie’s needs, he was also distant, cold almost. He’s shutting me out.

  “He is afraid,” Annika said while still watching the movie, “about you and the son you carry.”

  “Is it a boy for sure?” he couldn’t help asking, his worries about Val temporarily replaced by parental curiosity.

  Annika nodded. “A drone, yes. Not another queen.”

  He felt relief at that news. He didn’t want the responsibility of raising a girl hybrid, nor did he question whether Annika knew what she was talking about. She seemed to see the world with more clarity than a mere human or even her male relatives could perceive. Her effectively supernatural abilities were both unsettling and comforting. It meant that she probably had insight into Val’s feelings that even Mackie, as his husband, couldn’t determine.

  “I don’t know how to ease his fears,” he admitted. “I try not to be too much of a burden, but my body isn’t cooperating.”

  “It is not your duty to help him. You are the one carrying his seed. He must cater to you.”

  “He does. I mean, he feeds me regularly and that helps a lot. I just don’t want him to worry about me. That’s all.”

  “Maybe he’s going to see his piece on the side,” Merlin popped into the conversation, with a remark that instantly infuriated Mackie.

  Before Mackie could response, Annika placed a delicate hand on his arm. “Merlin, that is not only inaccurate, but it is also mean speculation. Apologize.”

  Merlin grimaced, shot Mackie a frown then said, “Sorry. I was being bitchy.”

  “You certainly were,” Mackie ground out.

  “Mr. Valeriu will find his own way,” Annika continued, taking his attention away from the brat. “Once it is clear that you and the babe are doing well, he will worry less. That was how it was with Papa.”

  “At some point, Will stopped being concerned about your other father’s pregnancy, you mean?”

  There was a slight hesitation before she said, “Yes, eventually.”

  “When you were safely out, I bet.”

  Another hesitation. “No, before that.”

  Mackie finished the braiding and sat still, as a thought occurred to him. “Say, how exactly were you delivered? I know Harry has to cut my baby out of me. No birth canal and all that. But, Harry wasn’t there when you were born or he would have said something to Alex. So, who helped out your fathers?”

  This time, Annika was silent for so long that he thought maybe she wasn’t going to answer, had gone back to focusing on the movie. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I think perhaps they did it all on their own.”

  “Will has medical training?”

  “Maybe…or Papa did.” She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “Shall I go and get a mirror so I can see what you’ve done?”

  “Sure.” Reaching for the remote, he paused the movie. It didn’t matter how many times she saw it, she never wanted to miss anything.

  He relaxed against the pillow behind him as he waited and couldn’t shake the feeling that neither Val nor Annika were being entirely truthful with him.

  Chapter Six

  From where he hid in the woods behind the camp, Will kept track of the comings and goings. Kitted out as he was with the latest human and Val-created tech, he could practically see inside the walls of the buildings. He kept his focus there, although he couldn’t tell where Damien was. The heat sensors only highlighted humans, not specific ones, no matter how much Will longed to form a connection with his lover through the distance separating them. The only positive part of this first night’s surveillance was that he could tell Bran was both there and isolated. His body registered as different from the others and no human was in the room where he’d settled in the last hour.

  Thank God he doesn’t have his foul hands on Damien.

  Of course, that was cold comfort. There was no telling what the humans might be up to. He’d lobbied unsuccessfully to put a tracker on the boy. Val had the ability to do so. And while it was likely that it wouldn’t be detected any more than the phone tucked between the material of the duffle bag they’d given Damien, there would be no acceptable answer for having it. Hiding his mobile would be something any human might do. Being wired like an informer for the human authorities would definitely pique Bran’s interest. Unlike everyone else there, he would know that it was likely an Alex move, which in turn could endanger Damien.

  More than this long-shot scheme was already doing… God… Will couldn’t settle down. Worry crawled all over him like ants. The urge to text the boy for an update was almost too hard to resist. Only the knowledge that such a thing might put Damien in the kind of danger he worried about stayed his hand. Under no circumstances was he to contact Damien, not unless it was to say I’m getting you out of there right fucking now! He had to be patient and wait for the boy to contact him, when and if it was safe to do so.

  Waiting was hard, but what on this planet hadn’t been? At least he knew that Annika was well looked after. Mackie was entertaining her in the living room, and Dafydd had surprised him by offering to see her to bed, not that she needed the kind of help that Idris did. Still, there had rarely been a night when Will hadn’t overseen her bedtime routine. The separation was hard, although not as much as he’d feared. He had a family with him now to help him raise his daughter. His Queen. If he hadn’t been afraid to reveal her to the others, he could have had this help from the very start. In hindsight, he’d worried for nothing. They’d all been missing having her. Annika was a balm to each of them.

  Knowing that her future was secure gave him the opening to face what he hadn’t been able to for many years. He was lonely and needed someone more than his daughter and his shipmates in his life. He craved having a man in his bed, in his life. Being with Damien had made that more than clear. He wasn’t going to be able to remain celibate and alone. With that knowledge came the fear that he’d held at bay. Without conscious thought, he ran his fingers along the lines that Damien had traced during the night. Here was the one thing that held him back from embracing the joy that begged to be let out.

  Last night, there’d been no worry. Condoms and Damien’s exuberant willingness to be topped had allayed any fears. If they got fully involved, however, where Damien learned Will’s true origin, would that last? Could Will bind himself to another human without risking what was now something that was a known possibility? He wouldn’t be caught unaware this time. Did he want that for himself? Why was it so difficult to accept his own nature?

  The issue was too hard for him to face now. It was enough that he’d taken the step to allow himself some pleasure. The focus had to be on keeping Damien safe, not on his own existential angst. Adjusting the heat-seeking goggles on his face, he concentrated on the camp below. This was how he’d spend his night, guarding his lover by watching for trouble. The future would come eventually, but not now.

  * * * *

  “You’ll be bunking in with me,” Earnest Elliot said with a sweep of his arms, like Vanna showcasing a vowel.

  The room was practically a cell, with two high windows that would be impossible to climb out of, two narrow cots and two rickety wooden bureaus, on which lay two folded towels. It was like a prison version of Noah’s Ark, except here there would be no sex.

  Putting his duffle down, Damien forced a smile. “It’s great…cozy. I can, um, really do some serious thinking here.” Yeah, such as how the fuck did I get into this situation? Oh, right, because I’m at least halfway in love with Will already, even after only one night an
d though he’s still mourning his dead partner, and I’d do anything for him. Not that he said any of that out loud, of course.

  Earnest Elliot wasn’t finished with the tour, though. “You can put your belongings into that bureau.” He pointed to the one on the right, as if the one on the left having personal stuff wasn’t a clue that it was Elliot’s already. “We like to pair up newbies with more experienced campers.”

  They liked to refer to this place as if it were an overnight, fun-filled camp for adults, instead of the hellish prison it really was. They had nature-based group names with a heavy dose of masculinity such as ‘the bears’ and ‘the bucks’. The counselors promised full days of healthy activities, like canoeing, along with trying to convince their campers that they were deranged. Yeah, right…macramé and self-loathing. Fun, fun, fun.

  Dinner had yielded his first useful results. Warren and his wife had joined their ‘boys’ in the large dining hall. They’d sat on the dais at one end of the room while the campers had spread out on long picnic-style tables and benches. The food had been bland, naturally. Damien had amused himself by mentally listing the various seasonings he would use to make it all more palatable. Halfway through the meal, the man he was there to spy on had come slinking in. That was the only way to describe it. Will’s cousin had appeared at the end of the dais, almost as if he’d materialized out of nowhere, and taken a seat beside Warren. He looked exactly like the other Stelalux men, except his expression was set in granite and he wore sunglasses, even inside. Weird.

  Although nothing of note happened for the rest of the meal, Damien’s heart had galloped with excitement and fear. He really wanted to come through with something useful for Will, but at the same time, he appreciated even more how much Will’s admonition to not take chances mattered. He’d said this man, Bran, was dangerous, and boy, was that an understatement. The guy could play death in any avant-garde stage production with no makeup required. Stealing glances at him sent shivers down Damien’s spine.

  Elliot was still talking. “I’ve been here for nearly a year and stay on because the program really works. My impure thoughts and impulses have all but vanished.” He dropped his gaze and his voice briefly. “I continue to struggle and that’s okay. No one expects years of damage to be repaired in any kind of predetermined timeframe. You can stay as long as you want.”

  Damien figured as young as Elliot looked, he must have run straight to this horrid place on his eighteenth birthday. He nodded his head. “Great! I’m really looking forward to, um, making progress.”

  “Good.” Earnest Elliot grinned broadly for a second before becoming serious again. “We don’t give anyone their own room for a reason. You have to get used to seeing another man—me—naked without, you know, reacting. It’s normal for men to be around each other without their clothes on. You know, lockers and whatever. Here we learn to give each other privacy and not allow our bodies to betray us.”

  Damien was nodding again while thinking Seriously, dude, I don’t get a boner every time I see another guy’s dick and ass. God help poor Elliot if he did. It was just rude. “Sure, I understand,” he said, because his roomie seemed to be looking for some kind of response.

  “Excellent. And we learn to sleep with another man nearby without again, reacting inappropriately. Also, I’m sure you’ve read all your intake papers, but remember that there is no self-polluting. God wants us to save our bodies for our wives. Otherwise, it’s a slippery slope from that to fornication with men.”

  Self-polluting? Gee, Elliot is both earnest and old-fashioned. And if whacking off led to straight men fucking each other, then same-sex relationships would be mandatory by law. Jesus Christ, this is going to be tougher than I’d thought when I volunteered. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from responding. He just kept nodding like an idiot, hanging on to every pearl of wisdom dropping out of his roommate’s mouth.

  “Anyway, I’m here to help you in any way I can. I’ll guide you through your meals, workshop sessions and physical activities for the first couple of weeks until you settle in.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He waited, because clearly Earnest Elliot had more to say. He just wasn’t getting to it quite yet.

  The boy sighed heavily. “Look… This is tough…at least at first, and I want you to know that it’s particularly hard at night.”

  I will not snicker at the word ‘hard’. I will…not. The inside of his cheek was almost bleeding from the force he had to use to bite it.

  “So, if, in the middle of the night, you find yourself in trouble, maybe the urge to, ah, touch yourself becomes overwhelming, then come to me. Crawl right in next to me. I promise I won’t be mad. I’ll hold you until the crisis passes. That’s what real men do for each other without going so far as to violate God’s law. We’re like trench buddies in a form of war. Soldiers give each other comfort all the time. There’s no shame in it.”

  And that’s when Damien’s irritation at the guy turned to pity. Elliot wasn’t so much earnest as absolutely miserable, and he was keeping himself in this hell in a futile effort to change feelings that would never go away.

  Damien held out his arms. “Real men can hug, right? I mean, I have to admit that I’m kind of scared. I’m afraid I’ll fail,” he added, keeping up the pretense of wanting to be there. “Do you mind?” he added, gesturing with his arms.

  Elliot’s face lit up. “Of course not! Real men can hug without it being an abomination.”

  The boy came to Damien and practically fell into his arms. Damien gave him the same affection he’d given lots of guys who struggled with addiction, homelessness and domestic violence. It was easy to do and cost him nothing. He didn’t worry about getting hard, either, because contrary to what the people running this place thought, he wasn’t aroused by the touch of any and all men. Only certain ones…

  Will. Yup, that was the one at the moment, and he suspected that his desire for Will would never go away, even if the guy himself did.

  So no, hugging Elliot didn’t make him hard. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for poor Elliot. Damien simply ignored it and let the boy cling to him for as long as he wanted.

  Eventually, his roomie broke the embrace and stood back a little red-faced. “Go ahead and get settled. I have to see Congressman Warren. I report to him every evening. He has been my personal counselor since I first came here and he’s gracious enough to continue with that, even though he’s so busy. I, ah, don’t know what I’d do without his kindness. It’s, um, my life-line, you know? I won’t be long,” he added with a visibly hard swallow.

  “Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

  “I won’t be long,” he repeated and scurried out of the room.

  Rolling his eyes, Damien opened his duffle, pulled out the few clothes he’d packed and dumped them in one drawer. “All unpacked,” he muttered to himself before lying down on his cot. Lumpy and hard, the perfect combination. He briefly wondered if he could get away with jerking off, then decided against it. But he was hard—and not because of Elliot. He was thinking of Will—again. He was out there, watching, ready to come to Damien’s rescue. He had absolute certainty of that and knew, as well, that it would be difficult not seeing him for a whole twenty-four hours.

  * * * *

  Annika felt only a minor amount of guilt over her actions. With her father gone for the night, she had an unexpected opportunity to do what needed to be done. Mackie was back in his room, sleeping—thankfully, not sick. The others were working, leaving only Dafydd at the family building to watch over her and Merlin to keep her company. She’d had no trouble pretending to retire for the night before slipping out again, while coopting Merlin to her cause. That hybrid drone chafed at confinement and was happy to do the impermissible. His father was easily gotten around. Poor, sweet Dafydd and Alun didn’t deserve this kind of duplicity, but the good of the hive overrode all other considerations.

  She hushed Babette as they crept through the connecting tunnel between the two building
s, the family quarters and the pretty club where human men went to enjoy themselves. She would have loved it if this underground part led directly to the basement of the club. Annoyingly, she had to first go up to the street level, then back down through the secure door. It meant she had to be very careful not to let the others see her. It wasn’t easy, but she had the benefit of the noise and the distraction of the business. Plus, she knew that most of her hive were occupied in some fashion with their work. They weren’t expecting to find her there, so she had more chance of avoiding them. Merlin was a solid presence at her back, equally stealthy. He was a difficult boy, but she trusted him to do her bidding and he would be able to protect her if it became necessary.

  She’d chosen her red velvet dress, hoping it helped her blend into the décor. It also made her look her most regal, she thought. Reminding her quarry of her position in as many ways as possible was critical to her success. She only had to get there without being seen. If someone caught her on the way back, she could always claim curiosity as the reason for her journey, and her goal would have been achieved. That was what mattered. Babette was a bit of a concern, but her presence also gave an excuse for why she’d gotten up. Dogs needed to go out sometimes after dark, and naturally Annika wouldn’t want to interrupt the men at their work. She’d already instructed Merlin to back up any story she told, and having the boy with her made more sense than her venturing out on her own.

  Luck was with her. Other than a startled human woman—one of Emil’s cooks, rushing to deliver a tray of food—she and Merlin met no one. The kitchen worker shot Annika a quick smile without pausing. It was easy from there for Annika to reach the basement door, enter the code she’d seen Alex use on her one trip to this place, then slip through it.

  Neither she nor the boy needed light to see the way, which was good, because that could possibly attract attention. There was some risk that Harry was in his lab. Opening her hearing, she listened for his heartbeat or footsteps. Nothing. There was only the one she was going to see occupying this level. Babette whined and wiggled in her arms. She shushed the creature and rubbed her head in comfort while they descended.