Bound in Blood (17 page)

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

112

Chris continued to stare at him, disbelief clouding his eyes. “This just doesn’t make any sense. Are you trying to break up with me or something? If you are, there are less crazy ways to do it.”

“I am not trying to break up with you.” Carlos touched Chris’ face gently. “Nothing could be further from my mind, but in a moment, when you believe what I’m saying to be the truth, you may not want me in your life anymore.”

“So, you’re sticking with your story—about being a vampire, I mean.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I am.”

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it. Prove to me that you’re a vampire. Turn into a bat or fly around the room—

do
something
.”

“I can’t turn into a bat.”

“I knew it.”

“And flying around this small room might be somewhat ungainly.”

“Carlos.” Chris heaved a sigh of relief mixed with impatience. He walked into Carlos’

arms and held him tight. “You are no more a vampire than I am. I don’t know why you’re playing this silly joke, but I’m over it so let’s drop it and make love.”

Carlos cupped Chris’ face between his hands and kissed him tenderly. “I could say,

‘Look into my eyes, and all will be revealed’.”

Chris giggled. “That old corny Dracula routine.
Look into my eyes
,” he intoned, gazing up at Carlos. “Oh, my God…”

He was in the alleyway. The thugs pressed around him and Carlos. He heard a gunshot. Heard
himself scream, “No!” Saw Carlos stagger back. He
had
been hit. Oh Jesus, his face, his
teeth
.

Another shot
—
pain. I’ve been shot. Carlos…with me…giving me his blood…drinking his blood
—

Chris, his face ashen with shock, wrenched himself from Carlos’ embrace. “It-it’s true.

You are what you said. Oh my God. Oh my
God—No
.” He backed up several steps until he hit the wall.

“Please don’t be afraid of me, Christopher. You are in no danger from me.”

“No? I’d rather take my chances with that creepy guy. A cup of coffee in the face and it was over, but you…?” A sudden realisation hit him. “And tonight, watching that movie with BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

113

Marcus and Roger and…and—they’re
all
vampires?” His voice held a slight edge of hysteria.

“Oh, my God!”

“Christopher.” Carlos reached for Chris and drew him into his arms. Chris whimpered, suddenly powerless to resist. His body stiffened in the vampire’s embrace. He closed his eyes, certain now that his throat was about to be ripped open.

“Carlos, please. Don’t…”

“Christopher, listen to me. I will not harm you. I love you. I am not some soulless creature of the night, desiring only your blood.” Carlos tilted Chris’ head back. His heart twisted with grief at the look of fear on the young man’s face.
Surely there must have been a
better way for him to know
, he thought. “Christopher,” he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. “I mean what I say. I love you, and I will never hurt you. Look at me,
querido.
Do you believe me?”

Trembling, Chris gazed up into gaze into the depths of Carlos’ golden brown eyes.
Yes,
so beautiful
, Carlos heard Chris think,
but belonging to someone I believed I was going to love for
the rest of my life, someone I’m now scared to death of, someone I have to get away from
.

“I…I can’t.”

Carlos released him and stepped back, his expression one of total sadness. “Then I am sorry. Christopher, I must leave you. And I must take with me all the memories you have of what we shared, memories only I can now cherish for all eternity.”

Gently, he brushed Chris’ lips with the softest of kisses then tilted Chris’ face until their eyes met and held.

“Goodbye,
querido
,” he whispered, then like a silent shadow caught in a ray of light, he was gone.

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J. P. Bowie

114

“Huh?” Chris looked around his apartment, just for a moment thinking he’d heard someone telling him goodbye. “Must be hearing things,” he muttered, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket to answer its strident tones. “Hello?”

“Hi, Chris, how’s it goin’?”

“Hey, Joey. Pretty good.”

“Another heavy date with you-know-who?”

“If I knew who ‘you-know-who’ was, I might be able to answer that dumb question.

I’ve been home all night by myself.”

“No Carlos tonight?”

“Who?”

“
Carlos
. Your main man, your Spanish
caballero
in shining armour.”

“Joey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no one called Carlos in my life.”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you two had split up.”

“Joey, quit fucking with me.”

“I’m sorry. It’s okay. I mean, it’ll
be
okay. Want some company?”

“No, it’s late. I’m going to bed—but thanks.”

“That’s what friends are for. So, you wanna take in a movie tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay—and Chris, take it easy.”

“Will do. Ciao.”

“Ciao.”

Chris closed his phone, shaking his head. What the hell was Joey talking about? He must have gotten him mixed up with one of his other friends. What an airhead.

Joey stared at the phone in his hand for a moment or two before closing it and putting it down on the kitchen counter.

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115

Poor Chris, he’d had such high hopes for a relationship with Carlos. Wonder what happened?

Must have been bad ‘cause Chris is in total denial. Carlos…who? Jeez, but life was a bitch sometimes.

Chris is such a cool guy, so nice, and Carlos had sounded just the perfect guy for him. Sweet and
caring, Chris had said
.

“Wish I could find someone sweet and caring,” he said aloud. “But then, he’d probably go the way of all hot flesh—just like Carlos.”

Joey vowed he would not mention the name ‘Carlos’ again until Chris was ready to talk about him and what had happened.

Carlos hovered over Chris’ apartment building, his dark clothing making him invisible against the moonless sky. Even though he was no longer to be a part of Chris’ life, he would not abandon him until he was absolutely certain Martin Kellogg was no longer a danger to him. His eyes swept the grounds, the nearby trees, the streets beyond. All seemed quiet and normal for—he glanced at his watch—a few minutes after midnight. After one long circular flight over the area, he felt satisfied all would be well this evening. He flew higher then headed in the direction of Hollywood Hills.

Marcus and Roger were standing on the terrace when he alighted there a few minutes later. There was no need to tell them what had occurred—they already knew. Roger embraced him, hugging him tightly to his body.

“I’m sorry, big guy,” he murmured. “I know how much Chris meant to you, how much he still means to you.”

Carlos patted Roger on the back then stepped away from his embrace. “I don’t think I will ever forget the look of abject terror on his face when he finally realised what I am.” He looked keenly at Roger. “Were you not terrified when Marcus revealed himself to you?”

“Of course, I was. I almost peed my pants. I kept waiting for him to chew on my neck.”

Roger smiled, remembering. “Then he kissed me.”

“That’s all it took?”

“Well, he cheated a little.” A quiet cough behind him made him laugh. “Well, you did Marcus. You used that special thing you have that makes you irresistible.”

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“You mean he put you in his thrall.” Carlos sighed heavily. “Something I could have done of course.”

“Not in my thrall,” Marcus said. “Roger was aware of everything that was happening. I did not coerce him with my powers.”

“Then what?” Carlos looked confused. “What else could I have done?”

“It’s in his kiss,” Roger said, smiling up at his lover. “Unfortunately, not all vampires have it. Something in his saliva blurs the senses, calms and arouses at the same time. At least, that’s how it was for me. I was scared, but I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anyone in my life.”

Carlos looked at them both and shook his head slowly. “I told him I loved him, that I would never hurt him, and still I could not quell his fear of me.”

“Mortals have an inherent fear of us, Carlos.” Marcus took him by the arm and led him inside. “What they know of us they have read in books and seen in movies—like the one we watched earlier. We are evil monsters, bent on sucking all human blood and turning them into mindless slaves to satisfy our lust.”

“Whereas, we’re only scary ‘til you get to know us,” Roger quipped.

Marcus poured Carlos a glass of wine. “You are worried that the hunter may still be a danger to Christopher.”

“Yes. When we arrived at his apartment there was a note on his door. Two words.

Vampire Bait
.”

“That son-of-a-bitch,” Roger muttered.

“I have to track him,” Carlos said grimly. “I have to hunt him down before he can harm Christopher—or any one of our friends.”

Marcus nodded. “All our friends in LA have been alerted to the fact he is out there.

Joseph has contacted the Vampire Council for more information on the man. Who he works for, his contacts,
etc.
He should have the information soon. From what you have said, it sounds like Kellogg works alone.”

“There was another man with him, the one I threw over the balcony, but he seemed to be in the way, not Kellogg’s partner. However, now when I think about it, he did look familiar.” He paused. “Of course, now I remember. He was one of the thugs in the alley—

probably the one who reported seeing a vampire.”

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117

“And Kellogg would have contacted him,” Marcus said, “being one of the few who would have believed the story.”

“At any rate, he is unimportant. After seeing how little Kellogg thought of him, throwing him at me so he could escape, I doubt if the man will be willing to be associated with Kellogg again.”

Chris woke the following morning and, for the first time in a while, felt at a loss for something to do. Now that the exams were over, and hopefully the results would be sent to him in a few days, he supposed he should go home and set up the office space his father had set aside for him. Pulling on his sweats, he thought of the day ahead. After coffee and a bagel from the corner coffee shop, he’d go work out for a while. Oh, and Joey had mentioned a movie for later. Maybe tomorrow, he’d drive up to Santa Barbara so he and his dad could get started on the office.

Funny, but he couldn’t quite shake the impression that there was something else he should be thinking of—or was it
someone
else? That was nuts, for sure. There wasn’t a someone in his life at present. So why did he have this haunting feeling that something, someone, had gone from his life? Sighing, he pulled on his trainers, grabbed a few dollars from his jeans’ pocket and headed for the door.

Locking up, he noticed a crumpled ball of paper lying on the ground near his door. He was just about to kick it out of the way when he noticed there were some printed words on it.

He picked the ball of paper up and smoothed it out.

“Vampire bait,” he muttered. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you,
Christopher
.”

The voice coming from right behind him made him jump and whirl round. He stared in shock at the man who had accosted him in the club. From his bruised and swollen face, it looked like he’d been in a fight.

“You-you’re the guy from the club. What are you doing here?”

“You and I have something in common.” Martin Kellogg leered at Chris. “Shall we go inside and talk?”

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118

“No, we shall not.” Chris started to walk away. “You and I have nothing in common, Mister—especially your fixation with vampires. Now beat it before I call the cops.”

Martin grabbed Chris’ arm and spun him against the wall. “Listen to me,” he hissed, keeping a grip on Chris’ arm. “Your tall friend is a vampire, and you will show me where he rests.”

“Fuck off, you moron!” Chris yelled into Martin’s face and brought his knee up into the man’s crotch. Gagging and cursing, Martin doubled over, releasing Chris who sprinted down the stairs, out onto the street almost knocking over a man jogging past the building.

“Hey, watch out!” the jogger yelled.

“Sorry,” Chris panted. “Some asshole attacked me outside my apartment.”

The jogger peered at Chris. “You look a bit shaken up. There’s a highway patrol car parked at the corner. Let’s go tell the officer.”

The police officer must have seen Chris barrelling out onto the street. His car cruised up to where Chris and the jogger were standing.

“What’s going on guys?”

The jogger said, “He was attacked outside his apartment.”

The police officer heaved himself out of the car. Chris felt like a midget next to him. The man must have weighed close to three hundred pounds and sported a badge that read

‘Officer Zimbowskie’.

“Let’s go take a look.”

Chris started to lead the way back to his apartment, but the cop stopped him at the bottom of the steps and pulled out his gun. “Can’t be too careful,” he muttered, climbing the steps with a ponderous tread. Chris followed close behind, the jogger behind him.

“Careful when you get to the top,” Chris said. ‘There’s a bit of a blind corner there.”

“Got it covered,” Zimbowskie wheezed, the climb having taken its toll on his overweight frame. “Nope, nobody here.”

Chris hadn’t really expected the man to be still lurking about, but the crumpled sheet of paper he’d found earlier was there where he’d dropped it.