Bound in Blood (11 page)

“Joey, there’s more to him than just his good looks. He’s so great, so
caring
, in and out of bed. ”

“Oh
my
…” Joey poked Chris in the ribs. “Ah do declare, mah best fren’s in
love
.”

“Yes.” Chris stared straight ahead as he said, “I do believe I am.”

Their weekend with Chris’ parents’ wasn’t quite the chore Chris had thought it might be. Chris loved his parents, and even if his mother could be a bit of a control freak at times, he knew her actions and thoughts were for his well being. Having Joey there with him had been a good idea. His mom loved Joey, regardless of how outrageous he could be at times.

She even let him call her by her first name, Anita. So, it was easy for Chris to sometimes drift from the conversation at hand and let his mind linger on the last wonderful time he’d spent with Carlos. He just had to be careful when he stood up since thoughts of Carlos invariably made him hard. The tenting in his jeans or shorts was not something he wanted his mother to catch sight of.

However, he knew that getting across the idea to his parents of him doing their accounting from anywhere else other than right there in the winery wasn’t going to be easy.

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

72

His dad might see it was possible, but his mother just would not understand why he’d want to do such a thing as stay in LA.

“That immoral, dangerous place…” she’d railed at him on several occasions, and this time she had a newspaper article to show him, to prove to him that LA was the last place on earth he should want to live.

“And that goes for you too, Joey,” she exclaimed as she thrust the paper under Chris’

nose. “I immediately thought of the danger you could both be in when I read that.”

Sighing, Chris scanned the article with the lurid headline
Vampire Attack in Los Angeles
.

“Mom, why on earth are you reading this kind of crap?” he groused. “This is like something out of one of those tabloids you get at the supermarket checkout.”

“Maybe so,” his mother said with a sniff. “But the man swears it’s true.”

Chris read out loud for Joey’s amusement. “
Billy Richards, arrested after a fracas in a West
Hollywood alleyway, gave police some startling details of the man he says attacked him. Richards
admitted he and his friends had planned on mugging two men in the alley, but the taller of the two
suddenly grew in height and revealed sharp fangs as he defended himself and his companion.

“’
It was like something out of a horror movie,’ Richards declared. ‘The guy was close to seven
feet tall and could toss all of us around like we weighed nothing. Even a bullet in the chest didn’t stop
him. And he had fangs, terrible long teeth
.’
Richards and two others were fined for carrying a weapon
without a license.

“
The incident took place a short distance from the Xtasy Club, a bar generally frequented by
gays.”

“Hey,” Joey exclaimed. “Isn’t that where you—?”

“No!” Chris almost yelled. “It’s not the same place.” He glared at Joey, signalling that his friend shouldn’t say another word in front of his mother.

“The same place?” Chris’ mother stared at her son. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not going to those awful places are you?”

Chris sighed. There was no point in trying to hide it from her. She’d harp on it until he came clean. “I was working there as their bookkeeper, but I’ve given them notice.”

“Oh Chris, why would you work in a place like that? If you needed extra money, your father or I would send it to you. You know that.”

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

73

“Mom, please. I’m twenty-four years old. I can’t be asking my parents for money all the time. That’s why I got the job—so I could pay my bills without bothering you or Dad.”

“Well…” His mother smiled benignly. “I suppose that’s very thoughtful of you, but I’d rather you asked us instead of working in some sleazy bar.”

Chris couldn’t really defend the Xtasy Club’s reputation without hearing a hoot of derisive laughter from Joey so he didn’t bother. Instead, he decided to broach the subject of his working for Carlos—and staying in LA.

“Talking of work,” he began, “I’ve had a pretty good job offer from a guy who deals in the international antique business.”

“But you’ll be working for your father,
here
,” Anita said pointedly.

“Well actually, I want to talk to you and Dad about that.”

“About what?” his father asked as he entered the living room.

“Chris has been offered a job,” his mother interjected before Chris could say anything.

“He seems to have forgotten his obligation to you, Jack.”

“Mom, please. Let me explain how this can work.”

“Go ahead, son,” his father said, easing himself into his favourite armchair.

“I met this man—his name is Carlos Galeano—through mutual friends.” Mentally, Chris crossed his fingers as he told this little lie. He was not about to say he’d met Carlos in the alley outside the Xtasy Club! “He imports and exports antiques. His business is based in Madrid.”

“Madrid?” His mother looked at him aghast. “You’d be going to Madrid?”

“No, Mom, I’d be doing the accounting here in the States, on a computer programme I’ll set up with his help. I’ve already mentioned to him that you expected me to do the winery accounts, and he said that wouldn’t be a problem. It can all be done on the internet.”

“Can it, Jack?” Anita looked at her husband for clarification.

Jack nodded. “Sure it can, but it’s going to be a load on you, Chris. Two accounting jobs? And the import-export market can be volatile at times. You’d be taking on a lot, son.”

“I’d like to try it though, Dad, if it’s okay with you.”

Jack was about to nod his assent when Anita jumped in again. “Well, if it’s so easy to do all that on the internet, why can’t you do it from here? You’d have your own office, and you’d be home.”

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

74

Joey and Chris exchanged glances then Joey said, “Oh, Anita, you’d be taking my best buddy away from me. I’d be all lonesome in the big, bad city!”

Anita gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You should come home too, Joey. Your mother worries about you being down there, just like I do.”

Jack Jeffries let out a long, low chuckle. “They’re not mamma’s boys, Anita. They’re young men needing their own lives. I’m sure Chris can share his time here and in LA.”

Chris felt a huge surge of relief at this father’s words.
Good old Dad
—
always ready to come
up with a compromise
.

“I can do that,” he said eagerly. “I’ll talk to Mr. Galeano about it. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“This Mr. Galeano…” Anita was not so easily persuaded. “What do you know about him, exactly?’

Chris ignored Joey’s muffled snort. “He’s a very successful, sophisticated kind of a guy.

You’d like him, Mom.”

“Then perhaps you should bring him here so we can meet him.”

“Sure.” Chris smiled sweetly at his mother. “I can do that.”

Later, lying in their separate beds in Chris’ old room, Chris had to listen to Joey’s criticism on how he’d handled the situation.

“You should’ve told them right there and then that Carlos was your boyfriend,” he hissed into the darkness of the room.

“I don’t know that he is my boyfriend, yet.”

Joey sighed loudly. “Well, when
are
you going to know? I let a guy fuck me more than once, he’s my boyfriend!”

Chris chuckled. “Well, we can’t all live by your high standards, Joey dear.”

“Watch it,” Joey growled, then giggled. “That was a bit whorey, wasn’t it?”

“I miss him already,” Chris whispered, more to himself than Joey.

“Poor baby. Want some company over there?”

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

75

“No thanks. And Joey, if you have to jack off, please don’t mess up the sheets. My mother still checks for tell-tale signs like that.”

“Anita loves me, and she’ll understand.”

“Oh, boy.”

After Joey had fallen asleep, Chris lay awake for some time, thinking about the article he’d read about the attack in the alley. Of course, he knew the piece had been about the guys who’d tried to put Carlos down, and who had failed miserably in the attempt. Their story, in order to justify the whipping Carlos had given them made him smile. They couldn’t just say they’d been beaten by a better and stronger man. No, they had to make up some cockamamie story about Carlos having fangs and being seven-feet tall.

Jeez, what losers.

He was in a long, dark and deserted alleyway. No matter how fast he walked, ran even, the end of
the alley seemed nowhere in sight. He could hear his heaving breath, feel his heart pound in his chest
and a film of cold sweat coated his skin.

He knew he was being followed, and he knew danger lurked ahead. Which one to face? Either
way, the odds were insurmountable. Alone, he couldn’t take on the three men who now stepped out of
the shadows in front of him. If he ran, he would have to face whoever was behind him. Three or one?

He turned and ran straight into the strong arms of a tall man wearing a long, dark coat.

Chris looked up, and his heart leapt with exhilaration. “Carlos,” he murmured. “Oh, thank
God.”

“You’re safe now,” Carlos whispered. “Safe, my love.”

The three men snarled their defiance and charged forward, clubs and knives
raised to strike and
slash. Carlos plunged in among them, hurling their bodies away with superhuman ease. But the men
returned, time and time again. They would fall, hit the ground then rise again. One loomed behind
Carlos, knife raised to stab him between his shoulder blades. Chris screamed
out a warning, and Carlos
turned and—oh God, what had happened to his face?

His features, usually so handsome, serene and composed, had taken on the likeness of a
monster—eyes blazing with a murderous fury, lips drawn back in a hideous grimace to expose long,
BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

76

sharp fangs. The man who would have stabbed him now shrieked with terror as Carlos picked him up
bodily, and with one ferocious bite, ripped out his throat.

Chris stared with terror, bile flooding his mouth. He let out a long cry of horror.

Carlos, sitting alone in the guest bedroom of his friends’ home, reading a book, was startled at the sound of Chris’ despair piercing his awareness. He reached out with his thoughts, his mind closing the distance that separated him from Chris.

A dream—or rather a nightmare—that’s what it was, he thought, his mind calm now once he knew Chris was not in any immediate danger.

A dream, my love, just a dream
.
I am here with you. You are safe, querido mio
.

He heard Chris whimper in his sleep then felt his mind clear itself of the ghastly images the nightmare had brought him. For a moment, Carlos was tempted to go to him then rational thought took over. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Chris would be back in LA the following evening, and he had every intention of seeing him then.

Satisfied that Chris would now sleep peacefully, with only pleasant dreams to remember, he settled back in his chair and gave in to the pleasure thoughts of Christopher brought him.

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

77

Billy Richards was enjoying his fifteen minutes in the limelight. Just that day, he’d had two more publications contact him about his lucky escape from the ‘Vampire of West Hollywood’ as the
Public Enquirer
had dubbed his attacker. Somehow, the media was focusing less on Billy’s role as the potential mugger and more on the lurid details of the man Billy swore was a vampire. And Billy knew he was right. The guy they’d tried to bring down in the alley that night was more than human. His buddy Frank could laugh at him and deride him all he wanted to, but Billy knew what he’d seen, and what he’d seen didn’t belong on the streets of the city.

Each time he thought about that night, a few more details gelled in his mind. The kid the monster had been with, the young guy Frank was intent on beating the crap out of, the one who worked at the faggot bar, how did he figure in all of this? He had to have known what the big guy was. According to Frank, it was the second time he’d accompanied the kid down the alley. They were buddies, no doubt about it. Which meant, in fag terms, they fucked around.

The kid had to know what it was he was in bed with, for Chrissakes
.

He was probably letting the vampire drink his blood. Humans did that.

Ever since the incident, Billy had been doing some serious reading about vampires, even struggling through Bram Stoker’s
Dracula
. Buffy was a much easier read, he’d decided.

In the process he’d learned that vampires befriended humans who gave their blood willingly. Little sips now and then just to keep their undead buddies going, without being turned into a vampire. Billy shuddered at the thought, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny he was kind of intrigued by it. Not the homo part, of course. If he could just find himself some hot chick vampire, he might let her take a bite or two—nothing too deep or too much…

He jumped as his phone rang. “Hello?”he managed after almost dropping the receiver.

“Billy Richards?”

“That’s me. Who’s this?”

“My name is Martin Van Helsing.”

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J. P. Bowie

78

Billy let out a hoot of laughter. “Yeah, and I’m Billy Renfield. What? You’ve been reading the papers would be my guess.”

A deep chuckle sounded on the other end of the line. “
Touché
, Billy. Actually my name is Martin Kellogg—the Van Helsing part is my idea of whimsy. When you hear what I do for a living, you’ll understand.”