As he looked in the man’s terrified face, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Not so much fun being on the receiving end, is it?”
The man’s lips flapped in silent protest. Val allowed him to play the landed fish for a few seconds longer before striking. His fangs sank into the font of the neck, piercing the jugular on one side. He allowed some blood to slide down his parched throat, but he didn’t want to feed on this polluted blood, so he ripped the flesh off and spat it out before dropping the dying body on the filthy ground. He watched the man bleed out and felt nothing but satisfaction. He was certain that murder had been on the menu. All he’d done was change the ingredients.
It took no time for the human to die, a merciful death considering Val hadn’t violated the man’s body first. But with the blood-lust subsiding, the enormity of how the night had turned out hit him. He’d done something too extreme to go unnoticed. The wail of sirens coming closer didn’t help any, either. On impulse, he picked up the knife the man had dropped and slashed what was left of the guy’s throat on the sides. It wasn’t much. It might help disguise the teeth marks. Probably not. Shit. He wasn’t one to dwell on what had been, however.
He took one quick look around before leaping back up to the roof.
When he got home, he found Mackie curled up in their bed, sleeping peacefully. Val silently went to the bathroom. He’d already ditched his bloody shirt. Stripping the rest of his clothing off, he showered, setting the spray as hot as he could stand it. He wanted to purge the stench of his victim from his hair and skin. Never mind that there was really nothing like that on him. It just felt wrong, sliding into his marital bed without cleansing himself.
Long minutes later, when he did join Mackie, the boy rolled toward him and murmured incoherently. Val wrapped his husband in his arms and held him close. He needed the comfort as much as Mackie, because this time, coming home from his nightly escapades, he didn’t feel that peace he’d come to crave.
* * * *
Will knew something bad was up when he saw Demi’s man, the cop, coming storming into the club. The doctor, Ric, was hot on his heels, looking very grim indeed. From across the room, Val stiffened around the same time, having also seen the men’s arrival. Duncan paused long enough to point a finger at Val, then gesture toward the back. Apparently a meeting with a capital M was required ASAP in Alex’s office. Val didn’t hesitate. He followed Ric.
Will didn’t hesitate, either, to join the parade. This was one of the rare hours when he wasn’t out watching the conversion camp. Whatever was going on, it must have to do with Bran. Being a warrior of the hive, Will had to answer the call of duty, even though he really wanted to go back to that damnable place and see if he could talk Damien into leaving and coming right back into his arms. Or, barring that, keep an eye on him. He lived now for their brief meetings behind the shed, trading blow jobs. And damn was that tongue piercing a delightful addition to the party. He longed, though, for more, enough for Will to get inside Damien’s precious ass. Damn, but he’d gone from who needs sex to how can I possibly last a whole twelve hours without it?
The shit hit the fan before Will had even crossed the threshold to Alex’s office. Malcolm was there already, sitting on the couch, his mouth agape as Duncan stopped in front of Alex’s desk with his finger pointed once again at Val.
“Who the fuck let him off his leash?” Duncan was incandescent with rage.
Will quickly shut the door. Whatever this was about, none of the humans wandering about needed to hear it.
Alex straightened from his normally relaxed pose. “Would you care to rephrase that, Sergeant, in a more coherent and less insolent way?”
Duncan dropped his arm but not his attitude. “Oh, no. You don’t get to play lord of the manner, Stelalux. I’ve put a shitload of my life and career on the line by joining your merry band. But this is insupportable, and I would have thought you’d care about making such a big, fucking, unnecessary mess in your own backyard.”
“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” Alex’s icy tone sent a shiver down Will’s spine. He rather admired how the human cop didn’t cower in the face of it.
“I do.” Val’s quiet admission got everyone’s attention. He stood to one side, his back pressed against the wall, looking very un-Val-like. Will had always thought this particular drone was born to fight. Nothing fazed him. At the moment, however, he had an almost-defeated air about him.
“Well, color me fucking surprised,” Duncan bit out.
“Trey, please.” Ric put his hand on the cop’s arm. “We need to hear him out.” He switched his attention to Val. “You really have put us both in a difficult position.”
Duncan snorted. “Don’t sugarcoat it, Paz. If we both don’t end up losing our jobs over this, we’ll be the luckiest fuckers in town.”
Alex’s eyes took on a reddish hue. Not a good sign. “Val, explain.”
Val only hesitated a second before saying, “I killed a man last night.”
“What man?”
He shrugged. “A human. A rapist. And he was trying for murderer, too.” He looked at Duncan. “He wasn’t going to leave that woman alive after he’d…done what he was in the process of trying to do. God, I hate rapists.”
Malcolm spoke up before anyone else could respond. “Well, I cannae say that anyone in this room would argue that point with you, but I dinnae understand. Where did this happen, and why did you kill the fucker instead of incapacitating him?”
“Because I wanted to kill him.” The answer, stated in such cold terms, sent another shiver through Will.
“You didn’t simply kill him, though, did you?” Ric said. His quiet voice held censure. “You ripped his throat out, then did a half-assed job of making it look like you’d slit it and maybe rats had chewed on it.”
Duncan barked out a laugh. “Yeah, rats. Somehow in the few minutes it took that poor woman to call the cops and them arriving on scene, rats got at the body. That’s the best we could come up with. I suppose we should thank you for at least trying to muddy the evidence.” Duncan put his hand on Ric’s shoulder. “Do you have any sense of the risks this man has taken, making sure he got the autopsy and falsifying records? If anyone takes a closer look at his pictures and report…”
“They probably won’t,” Ric volunteered. “But if they review Trey’s interview of the woman, they might notice how he steers her away from a more accurate description of what her savior looked like and how he might have entered that alley. I believe she initially said that you seemed to appear out of nowhere.”
“But, of course, that’s impossible. I have her believing you ran in from the street.” Duncan shook his head. “Because the alternative is you jumped three stories down from the roof.”
The silence that followed was interrupted by Alex letting out a string of compounded and creative swearing. It wasn’t Alex’s usual style, but apparently this wasn’t a usual situation. Seriously, what was Val thinking?
“Wait,” Will said suddenly. “You knew it was Val the moment you entered the club. How?”
Duncan raised an eyebrow. “I knew it had to be one of you, and the victim at first described someone with a Mohawk. I was like ‘are you sure in the dark it wasn’t a hat or maybe the guy was completely bald and the moonlight was playing tricks?’ Fuck! I had to make a traumatized woman think that her memory was faulty. I hate myself for that, and I hate you too!”
Duncan paced as far away from Val as the room would allow. “I would have known it was Val anyway. Who else? No way it was Alex or Emil or Harry. Could have been MacLerie, but he’s been trying to get away from fighting.” He glanced at Will. “I barely know you, except you are all about your kid, so… Besides, Val has always been like a quivering mastiff, waiting for the order to kill.”
“I can’t disagree with your assessment of me,” Val said quietly.
“You do need to explain this, however,” Alex said, his eyes had gone back to violet. “Why ever would you do such a th
ing, especially now, when we are the middle of dealing with Bran?”
Val didn’t answer right away. He stared at the floor and said, “I’m not sure how to explain it. I, ah, needed to take the air one night. Mackie… He’s struggling, you know. The pregnancy is hard on him. It’s too soon. He wasn’t supposed to change for a few more years. I thought I had time.”
Everyone remained quiet, letting him get it out at his own speed. He was obviously in distress and Will couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
“I went up to the roof one night, like I used to. I decided to take my version of a stroll around the city. It was…fun. Then I happened upon a few assholes trying to roll an old homeless man. A vet, actually. Logan, I think, knows him. Anyway, it was no big deal. I broke one’s wrist and battered the rest. They fled and I felt…amazing.” He snorted. “Fucking amazing. Suddenly, all the shit with Mackie, which made me feel impotent, was more bearable. I started going out every evening once he was settled, looking for trouble.” He glanced up at Duncan. “It wasn’t hard to find. This city has a lot of unaddressed crime at night.”
“No shit,” the cop replied. “Why don’t you try petitioning the city council for the funds necessary to hire more police. And while you’re at it, try convincing the good citizens to pay extra in taxes, because money doesn’t grow on fucking trees. It has to come from somewhere.”
Alex put up his hand. “Understood, Sergeant. So, Val, you turned into a vigilante? Cracking heads and breaking bones made you feel less impotent, as you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
Alex sighed and shook his head. “You could have come to me, or any of us, to let us know what you were feeling.”
Val barked out a laugh. “Not my style, sir. I would have thought you’d know that by now. I used to take my frustration out in battle, because I hate being marooned on this planet. Then I used the playroom to keep the edge off.”
Val cleared his throat. “Mackie has been my balm this last year. Except now he’s hurting and I’m just so goddamn fucking terrified of losing him.” His voice broke and the effort it took to bring himself back under control was painful to watch.
God, Val has always been a rock wall of emotion. Will felt terrible that he hadn’t noticed how much his friend was hurting. In hindsight, it hadn’t been so hard to pick up on. Val had been hovering around a sick Mackie much the way he did with Annika. And he got it, the way Val felt as if he couldn’t do anything useful. Will often felt as if he were watching a frightening thing unfold as his daughter entered into full Queen mode. He was powerless to stop it, didn’t know for certain what the outcome would be and could only stumble through it to the best of his ability. And Luuk’s slow death had been more of the same. So, yeah, he got how Val felt.
On impulse, he walked up to Val and put his arms around him. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you needed help. What can I do now?” He pulled back, although he left his hand on Val’s shoulder.
Val looked at him with surprise. “You have enough on your plate. The Queen…”
“She’s starting to shut me out. I turn around and she’s off somewhere. I look in her eyes and I can’t tell what she’s thinking anymore. I understand your feelings of impotence. I really do.”
Ric spoke up. “What this family could use is some therapy. Really?” he added when they all looked at him as if he’d sprouted horns. “What? Is that not a thing on your world?”
“The Queen is our therapy,” Alex answered. “She is what keeps us all emotionally anchored.” Leaning back in his chair, he added, “I’m beginning to think we’ve all been slowly going mad on this world without one. Perhaps Dracul’s only failing is that he got to that point earlier than the rest of us.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you were clinically insane or anything,” Ric sputtered.
Alex smiled briefly. “No, of course not.” He eyed Val. “Although ripping out a human’s throat and leaving the body in plain sight is crazy.”
“I’m sorry, sir. What can I do to remedy this situation?” he asked Duncan. “I don’t want you or the doctor to suffer for my indiscretion.”
Duncan shook his head. “It’s done. Nobody on the force likes a vigilante but we’re not going to cry over this asshole’s death, either. So long as no more bodies show up or anything else that implies someone is doing our work for us on a regular basis, the whole thing will be relegated to the unsolved files.” He gave a pointed look at Val.
“Understood. There will be no repeat.”
An idea occurred to Will. “Why don’t we go to that well-planned home gym of yours with the padded walls and do some sparring.”
“What with watching over Damien and everything else, you’ve got enough on your plate. Thanks, though.”
“I could use an outlet myself,” Will confessed. “I’m not happy about Damien being in the belly of the beast.” That was more information than he would have liked getting out at the moment. It was the right thing to say, however.
Val nodded. “I can appreciate the need. I’m happy to distract you with pain and humiliation at my hands.” He grinned, letting his fangs show.
Will gave him the same right back. “And I was thinking that maybe my beating your ass in hand-to-hand will cool your jets some.”
Val, bless him, dug deep for some more humor. “In your dreams, Dyke Boy. I can still take you.”
Alex clapped his hands once. “Excellent suggestion. Work off your mad, Val, then go spend time with Mackie. We may have lived a long time without the influence of a queen, but I have found a large measure of peace with my Quinn. Just the scent of him eases me in the most delightful way. I expect if we asked Harry, he could confirm that having Lucien and Demi in his life filled the unnamed void, as well.”
“Indeed, Captain.” Harry had opened the door without Will noticing and slipped inside the room. “My husband and son are both the center of my universe and my touchstone.” He glanced at Will. “Annika’s presence is the icing on the cake, as the humans would say.”
Harry focused on Val. “Mackie needs feeding and I said I’d find you.” His gaze swept the room. “I feel I’ve missed something.”
“I’ll fill you in later,” Alex said. “Go,” he ordered Val.
Nodding, Val moved to the door. Will followed. He wanted to see Annika—needed to see her. More, though, his desire to go to Damien had increased with all this talk of what the males of their species required. There was no fooling himself any longer. He was in love with the boy.
* * * *
“Where have you been?”
Crap, Earnest Elliot was awake.
Damien finished quietly closing their door before answering. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk.”
Elliot sat up, his hair sticking out in all different directions, folded his arms and frowned like an old woman. “Leaving your room at night is against the rules. You know that.”
Damien tried to look contrite as opposed to well-blown. “Yeah, I know.” He’d already considered this possibility. Once he went under, Elliot slept like the dead, but even heavy sleepers could wake unexpectedly. Damien had a cover story.
“See, um, I was feeling weak,” he said in a confessional tone. He went over to sit on his bed, slipping his sneakers off right away. “You get me?” He pulled his T-shirt over his head before waiting for a reply.
Elliot’s gaze tracked his movements, and once Damien was bare-chested, he just sat there and let the guy get an eyeful. “I thought a walk might help. It seemed like a better idea than what I used to do to help get to sleep—you know what I mean—or waking you for support. You work so hard all day.”
Then he unsnapped the jeans that Will had minutes ago done up and stripped down to his boxer-briefs. Because they were talking, Elliot didn’t avert his gaze the way he had previously on other nights. He just sat in the same pose, staring…and staring… God, Damien felt like a total shit, using his body to distract his keeper. It did the trick, though.
Finally, with
a huff, Elliot responded. “That was considerate of you, but really, that’s what I’m here for. I wouldn’t have minded.” Damien suspected that was true. “Did it help?”
“Oh yeah, I’m like totally under control now.” He made a sweeping motion toward his crotch, where his limp and satiated dick lay tucked in for the night. “Fresh air and some quiet exercise did the trick for sure.”
Elliot finally relaxed his arms and looked away. “Well, that’s good. Don’t do it again. I like you, Damien, and I get how sincere you are about changing. Rules are rules, though. Jeremiah—Congressman Warren—is very strict. He holds everyone to the same high standard he sets for himself.”
It took a herculean effort to hold back a snort over that statement. Damien had seen with his own eyes the asshat’s hypocrisy. “I understand,” he said, as solemnly as he could.
“And his head of security misses nothing.”
At the mention of Bran, Damien saw an opening and possibility to gain additional information. Elliot had been in this place and part of the campaign for a year. “Say, what’s his story? He’s scary looking and sounds kind of foreign.” Which was a lie, because he’d yet to hear the guy say anything. He was only going on what he knew about the Stelalux family.
Elliot scrunched up his face. “I’m not sure where he’s from. Wales, maybe. He joined Jeremiah’s campaign only a few months ago. Back then, the congressman was only planning on running for re-election. The presidency was something whispered about, but I thought it was for further in the future. Mr. Nyx showed up around the time the plans became accelerated. It was a good thing, too, given the hateful accusations being made online—and the threats. It’s hard for some people to hear the truth,” he added primly.
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