Bound in Blood (12 page)

Billy wasn’t sure what ‘whimsy’ was. The guy must be a faggot using words like
touché
and
whimsy
. “And just what is it you do for a living—like I care,” Billy rasped.

“I’m a vampire hunter.”

Despite himself, a thrill ran up Billy’s spine at the man’s words.
A vampire hunter
. Of course, if there really were vampires—and he was convinced there were after what he’d seen that night—then there would have to be vampire hunters. Probably working for the government.

“Oh, yeah?” Billy figured the right way to handle this would be to appear nonchalant as possible. The guy could be some kind of kook after all. “How’d you get my number.”

“You’re listed.”

“Oh, right. So, how can I help you?”

“Can we meet, say for a coffee, in about a half hour? There are some details I’d like to get concerning your, uh…confrontation with the vampire.”

“What’s in it for me?”

Another deep chuckle. “You mean, monetary remuneration?”

“If that means reward, then yeah.”

“I’m sure we can come to some satisfactory arrangement.”

Billy felt his excitement mount. “Okay, where d’you want to meet?”

Chris dropped Joey off at his apartment then headed home. All in all, the trip to Santa Barbara had worked out just fine, he reflected, driving along Santa Monica Boulevard.

Clearing the air about working for Carlos had been a good idea, and even if his mother still wasn’t crazy about it, she had succumbed in the end to his dad’s more easy-going attitude.

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79

He pulled into a parking space outside his apartment building, and his heart raced as he caught sight of a tall, familiar-looking figure standing on the steps outside the front door.

“Carlos!” he shouted happily, grabbing his overnight bag and hurrying from the car.

“What a great surprise. How’d you know when I’d be back?”

“A lucky guess,” Carlos replied, opening his arms to embrace Chris.

“I missed you,” Chris mumbled against Carlos’ lips after their first breathless kiss.

“Come on in. I’ve got lots to tell you.”

Smiling, Carlos followed Chris up the steps and into his apartment. Chris opened his overnight bag and produced two bottles of wine.

“Ta-da! I got one for Ron to give to the owner of La Fortuna and, this one, this is for us to share. Like some?”

“I would like that very much.” Carlos studied the label for a moment. “You must be very proud of your parents’ success.”

“I am.” Chris hurried into the kitchen to get the wine glasses.

“Another special occasion?” Carlos asked, recognising the antique glasses.

Chris smiled shyly. “Every time I’m with you is a special occasion.” He uncorked the bottle. “We should let it breathe a little.”

Carlos held out his hand. “Then come here so I can thank you for the nice thing you just said.”

Chris took his hand and let himself be drawn into Carlos’ arms. He sighed happily as he kissed his lover’s chin then slid upwards to nibble on his lower lip.

“You are the absolute best,” he whispered, pressing against Carlos’ hard body.

Their parted lips met, and Chris, consumed by the rapture Carlos brought him, felt himself melting, except for that part of him that grew and hardened at Carlos’ touch. Every kiss, every caress from this man brought Chris to the edge of delirium. The taste of his mouth, the sweetness of his breath, the spicy scent of his skin overwhelmed Chris’ senses.

He shuddered with anticipation at the sensation of Carlos’ lips teasing his nipples through the thin cotton of his tee. Quickly, he peeled it off, wanting the even more sensuous sensation of Carlos’ lips and tongue on his bare flesh.

Trembling with pleasure, he fumbled with Carlos’ shirt buttons, sliding his hands inside to caress the hard muscle overlain with smooth, cool skin. As their lips meshed again BOUND IN BLOOD

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in another long, languorous kiss, Chris’ hands roamed over Carlos’ back, tracing the length of his spine, slipping under the waistband of his pants. Carlos writhed against him as Chris’

fingers probed the cleft between his buttocks.

Carlos popped the metal stud at the waist of Chris’ jeans then slowly unzipped the fly, delaying the delicious moment when his hand could enclose Chris’ hard cock. Even more slowly, he sank to his knees, his lips trailing an erotic path down Chris’ torso until he reached the object of his desire. His tongue flicked at the head, scooping up the pre-cum that oozed from the slit. He paused for a moment, savouring the delicious salty flavour then he eased Chris’ jeans down over his hips, cupping the smooth round globes of his butt in his hands. A long, shuddering breath escaped Chris as Carlos’ mouth engulfed his throbbing erection, sliding up and down the hard length, from tip to base. Chris’ head fell back in ecstasy, his hands clutching at Carlos’ hair, his fingers tangling in the thick mane. He groaned, his orgasm building inside him too quickly to control.

“Uh…Carlos. Oh,
God
.”

And Carlos sucked harder, stronger, taking Chris over the edge into a mindless, searing delirium that had him coming in convulsive spasms, filling his lover’s mouth with his hot semen. Carlos’ eyes smiled up at him as he swallowed it all down, licking away the vestiges that clung to the still sensitive head. Carlos stood, and Chris collapsed into his arms, burying his face against the taller man’s hard chest.

“Wow…” The breath from Chris’ sigh of satisfaction warmed Carlos’ cool skin. He bent slightly to kiss the top of Chris’ head then lifted him into his arms and carried him into the bedroom. Laying him on the bed, he pulled off Chris’ sandals and jeans, threw his own clothes aside then covered Chris’ body with his own. His eyes held a tender light as he gazed down at Chris, smiling gently.

Chris returned his smile shyly. “What’s Spanish for I love you?” he asked.

“
Te quiero
,” Carlos replied in a husky whisper.

“Then,
te quiero
, Carlos.
Te quiero
very, very much.”

Chris pulled him down for a kiss, their lips parting for each other, their tongues sliding together, filling one another’s mouths. Carlos ran a hand down Chris’ slim torso, his fingertips gliding over his lover’s smooth skin, straying into the musky warmth of his crotch.

He slipped his hand under Chris’ balls and followed the sensitive, silken path leading to his BOUND IN BLOOD

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tight opening. Chris shivered from the sensation and raised his hips slightly, letting Carlos’

middle finger probe gently at the puckered hole. Carlos paused for a moment as if remembering something then he smiled, withdrew his hand and reached for the lube and a condom from the nightstand.

Chris wrapped his legs around Carlos’ waist, his breath quickening with anticipation as Carlos’ lubed finger resumed its probing, easing past Chris’ resistance, sliding all the way in.

Chris’ cock jumped as Carlos pressed against his prostate. A soft whimper escaped his lips.

Carlos moved over him, replacing his finger with the head of his now sheathed cock. He pushed forward as Chris pressed down. Low moans of pleasure came from both men as their bodies were joined and they rocked together, Carlos losing himself in the rapture of being inside Chris, surrounded by his heat. Their arms tightened about one another, their lips met and meshed, tongues tangling, teeth clashing as their passion overwhelmed them.

The rhythm they had begun quickened, each thrust from Carlos’ powerful hips bringing Chris an ecstasy he had never dreamed of. His cock, trapped between their fused bodies, ached for release, and as he arched his pelvis upward to meet yet another searing thrust, he climaxed with a choking cry, his hot semen coating their torsos.

“
Querido
…” Carlos shuddered in Chris’ arms as he came, driving himself even deeper inside Chris, his body racked by spasm after spasm. Chris held him, kissing his chin, his lips, his neck, all the while murmuring words of love and admiration. Carlos rolled over onto his side, his arms still wound around Chris, his eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. Chris laid his head on Carlos’ chest and closed his eyes, knowing at that moment, he had never been happier in his entire life.

The rail-thin man sitting at a corner table, stared through his dark glasses at the younger man who had just entered the coffee shop. Must be the one, he thought, taking in Billy’s attempt to look indifferent as his gaze swept the room. Martin Kellogg raised his hand a fraction then indicated the seat in front of him. Neither man uttered a greeting, just simply stared at one another, assessing strengths and weaknesses.

Finally Martin said, “Disappointed?”

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“Yeah.” Billy’s upper lip twisted a little. “You don’t look like a vampire hunter.”

Martin chuckled. “But
you
do look like a petty criminal.”

“Hey.” Billy bristled at the insult. “Watch your mouth.”

“Then tell me, Billy. What do you think a vampire hunter should look like?”

“I dunno. FBI agent maybe. Fit, built—you don’t look like you could take on a vampire.

Especially the one I seen. How do you take them down?”

“I have my methods.”

“Silver chains?” Billy asked smugly, wanting Martin to realise he knew a thing or two about vampires.

“That and one or two other means.”

“Are there a lot of you guys out there huntin’ vamps?”

“Not so many—but then, there aren’t that many vampires.”

“How many you killed then?”

Martin’s thin lips parted in a humourless smile. “I’ve killed my fair share.”

“Really?” Billy was still doubtful. “You’re kinda old for this, ain’tcha?”

“Forty—and you are?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Twenty-eight.” Martin sighed. “And still out there trying to mug people—and for what purpose? What do you intend your life to be, Billy?”

“What’s it to you?” Billy’s tone was belligerent. “Just cut to the chase. What do you want, and what’s in it for me?”

“Very well.” Martin removed his dark glasses, and Billy flinched slightly at the unnerving stare the man levelled at him from pale, cruel eyes. So pale, Billy couldn’t even discern what colour they might be. “In one of your statements to the press, you said the vampire was accompanying a young man.”

“A fag, yeah. Second time, Frank said.”

“Frank?”

“A buddy. He’s the one wanted them put down.”

“For what reason?”

“They’re fags.”

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“Ah.” Martin held Billy’s gaze until the younger man looked away. “So, this was intended to be a gay-bashing exercise, not a robbery.”

“Well, we’d take what they had as well,” Billy mumbled.

“So, the young man with the vampire—who is he?”

Billy shrugged. “I dunno his name. Blond kid, pretty-boy type. He works at the Xtasy Club is all I know.”

“I see. And this club is where?”

“I don’t know the
address
. I could show you where it is—just don’t ask me to go in. I don’t want no fags comin’ on to me.”

Martin smiled thinly. “Somehow, I don’t think you’d have to worry about that.”

Billy’s hands curled into fists on the table top. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means, dear Billy, is that you would look out of place in a gay bar, and gays have a nose for those who don’t belong.”

“Are you sayin’
you
belong?” Billy pushed his chair back slightly, leaning as far away as he could from Martin.

Martin’s sigh was heavy. “No, I’m not saying that. What I’m saying is I wouldn’t enter a gay establishment with hatred flashing from my eyes. I would try to blend.”

Billy snorted with disgust. “Well, you can blend all you like. Leave me out of it.”

“With pleasure. Tomorrow night, you will show me the place, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make the acquaintance of the vampire’s mortal friend, of course,” Martin replied with a smirk. “If, as you say, they are more than mere friends, what better way to bring the vampire from his nest?”

“And what do I get from all this?”

Martin’s smile did not warm his pale eyes. “That depends on the degree of success we have, Billy.” He replaced his dark glasses and rose from the table. “I’ll be in touch. Be ready when I call.”

Once outside, Martin walked quickly away from the coffee shop. It was as he had feared. Billy would be of no use to him, other than guiding him to where the vampire’s BOUND IN BLOOD

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young friend was employed. Martin had guessed from the newspaper article that Billy was an opportunist but had hoped he might at least have had some of the qualities needed for a vampire hunt. This would be the first time Martin would work solo. At first, it had seemed like a good idea—collect the bounty without having to share with a partner, but now he was not so sure. If only Billy had shown more strength of character, he might have been able to use him and offer him a fraction of what a real partner would expect for his share. But Billy had the typical limited intelligence of the petty thief and criminal and could not be trusted.

He mounted the steps to the small room he had rented for the duration of his stay in Los Angeles. There had been a time when he could have afforded more luxurious accommodations, but his admitted gambling addiction had recently decimated his bank account, forcing him to sell his car in order to pay off some of his Vegas creditors.

It had been a stroke of luck that he had read Billy’s story and recognised it as no hallucination, but a real vampire sighting. Such sightings were rare enough, and he wanted to waste as little time as possible in determining the vampire’s whereabouts before some other eager hunter contacted Billy. The story was just bizarre enough to make the national press then it would be a race against time—and the competition.