Burning Bright (4 page)

“It’s ten o’clock Monday morning. You don’t know? I’m coming over.” The sound of a door slamming came through the phone.

“Slow down, man, you woke me up is all.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming over anyway. You need breakfast, and I want to see how bad you’re hurt. Your aunt’s gonna kill me.”

He laughed. Marty had a point. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“No. But I think
one
of us should.
She’s
the doctor, you know.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.” His voice came out authoritative, reminding him of Neal’s.

Warmth filled him and he missed Marty’s next comment.

“What was that?”

Marty didn’t answer right away. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes. I’m sore, is all.”

“Neal Harrison said you had broken ribs. Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

“I told you. I just woke up. Could you at least save the interrogation until
after
I’ve had coffee?”

There was a small silence, and Sasha could hear the car radio through the telephone. “Yeah, man. I’m sorry. Look, I’ll grab some stuff from Corner Bakery and be there in a half hour.”

“That sounds good. Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Marty hung up.

Sasha let his arm fall. Marty was one of his best friends, but sometimes…

He rolled out of bed and took a quick shower. The jagged cut on his arm burned, but he washed everything with soap, wary of infection. He dressed in soft flannel pajamas, since he didn’t have to go anywhere.

His face, though… Shit, his interview was tomorrow. He stared at himself in the mirror, his eye a dark red mess and the shiner, if anything,
bigger
than the last time he’d looked.

He dialed Dr. Salisbury’s office and sat on the bed.

To his shock, the doctor answered his own telephone. Sasha expected an assistant.

“Charles Salisbury.”

“Good morning, Doctor. This is Aleksandr Soskoff.”

“Doctor Soskoff.” Dr. Salisbury sounded pleased to hear his voice. “What can I do for you?”

“Sir, I wanted to call about tomorrow.”
Just say it
. “I was mugged on Friday, and—”

“Mugged?”

“Yes, sir. I—”

“Surely, you’re all right, young man?”

“Yes, sir. I’m fine, but I look terrible. I wanted to warn you for the interview tomorrow, since it’s not something I can hide.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather postpone?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine, I just look like a walking war victim.”

The doctor chuckled, though Sasha got the impression it was partially involuntary. “Whatever you think best, Doctor Soskoff.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He closed his phone and got some water, then the doorbell rang. He buzzed Marty in and opened the front door. Marty appeared with two large Corner Bakery bags that emitted enticing aromas of eggs and toasted bread. And coffee. Definitely coffee.

Sasha’s stomach growled.

Marty looked good, dressed in a dark amethyst Henley and jeans. His curly russet-brown hair brushed his collar and always made Sasha want to bury his hands in it. Marty’s brown eyes widened, and he gaped at Sasha. “Jesus, you look like shit.”

“Thanks, man. That’s what I want to hear the day before an interview.”

Marty blushed and set the bags on the counter. “Vince wanted to come, but he’s got a big pitch meeting today. He’s worried about you too. How are you?”

“Good, actually,” Sasha said. He turned away to get plates and glasses. “Thanks for bringing over food. It smells fantastic.”

“I’m really sorry we didn’t go to get your wallet with you, man. Vince is beside himself.” He paused. “Now tell me what happened.”

Sasha sighed and sat down and Marty joined him, pulling boxes out of the bags. After telling Marty about his attack in the alley he changed the subject. “How’s work?”

Marty shrugged. “I wish I could open my own spa, but it’s not bad. I get enough massage clients that I keep busy, but you know how it is.”

“Yeah.”

Marty stayed in the business after they left massage school, even after he hooked up with his partner, Vince Miller. Sasha wasn’t jealous of Vince, but he missed messing around with Marty. Things might have gone better if Sasha had been older, or Marty more pushy, or something…

Besides, Neal seemed interested… He glanced at the card, sitting on the table next to the salt shaker.

He looked up to find Marty watching him. “Does your eye hurt?”

Sasha shrugged. “Yeah. My ribs hurt worse, though.” He lifted his shirt and showed him the bruising.

“Fuck. You’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”

A chill shocked through him. “I know.”

Marty flushed and looked down at his plate. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be Captain Obvious.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He hesitated. “I think I met someone.”

Marty’s slow grin lighted his brown eyes as he played with his food with the fork. “Oh?” His tone sounded too casual.

“Yeah.” Sasha took a bite of egg. “He’s really hot.”

“Is he in the scene?”

Hmm. Would owning the club be “in the scene”? Sasha smirked. “You might say that, yeah.”

“And does he like you?”

“I think so,” Sasha admitted. “He seemed to, anyway.”

Marty sat back. “You did not let someone top you after getting assaulted. Tell me you didn’t.”

“Sorry.”

“Holy shit, man. How was it? How do you get spanked with broken ribs?”

“It was short,” he admitted. “We couldn’t do much actual play. But he has really strong hands and likes to control the situation.”

Sharing the details of his encounter with Neal took up the rest of the breakfast. Marty helped him carry their dishes to the sink.

“I still have to go back and get my truck.”

“You left it
there
?” Marty put his hands on his hips. “You really
want
me to call your aunt?”

Sasha gaped at him. “For leaving my truck there?”

“You don’t even know these people, Sasha.” Marty waved his hands around. “They could be into really weird shit, you don’t know.”

“Like the scene?” he snapped, stuffing the plate into the dishwasher.

“I… Sasha, I didn’t mean that, come on. Be reasonable. You meet this guy, he drugs you up and drops you at home without once being seen by a doctor? And that doesn’t sound strange to you?”

“I don’t have insurance. Besides, Steve was a medic in the Corps.”

“The ‘Corps’?” Marty echoed. “You sound like one of them now.”

“I had a really good time, dammit.” Sasha glared at him. “We can’t all have steady boyfriends and nice apartments.”

Now
what
had possessed him to blurt
that
out?

Marty frowned. “Are we talking about the same thing?”

Sasha turned away, the sponge in his hand. He stared at the table, but didn’t wipe it down. “If I don’t get the job, I’ll have to go back to Madison at the end of the month, Marty. I can’t afford to stay, and I can’t sell the farm. Aunt Z won’t give me money, and the Covens weren’t crazy about me leaving for the ‘wilds’ of Chicago. My Coven supported me, but the rest think werewolves and vampires are around every corner.” He paused. “And for the first time since I got here, I actually
want
to stay.”

“Well, you are one of the Covens’ Guardians.”

Sasha rolled his eyes. “I’m a witch with enough magic to help with protection spells. My empathy only really aids my working with animals. Being a Guardian didn’t save my ass Friday night.”

Silence greeted his words and then Marty’s warm hand slipped onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I am. I worry about you, is all. This isn’t Madison. Even the gay scene is rougher here. It sounds like you really like this guy.”

“I…” He cleared his throat. “I guess I really do, kinda.”

“What’s he like?” Marty released him and took the sponge to start cleaning the table with long strokes.

“
Dreamy
.” He made his voice sound breathy and high-pitched.

Marty shot a look at him and then barked a loud laugh. “Come on.”

“He’s fun to talk to, and he seems like a good top. He picks up on shit, but doesn’t mess around. He wanted my safe word before he’d even kiss me.”

“Must be some kiss…”

“It was. He pays attention to business, though. His guys seem pretty serious too. I’ve been reading up on clubs in town, and the Factory’s got a really good reputation.”

Neal did too, but Sasha didn’t want to gush.

“You want me to drive you to the interview tomorrow?” Marty offered. “Vince offered to cook us lunch.”

“He’s got the day off?”

“Half day. He’d really like to see you.”

“Yeah. Sure, that sounds good.”

“All right. I have a client in a couple hours, I should go get ready. You’ll be okay?”

“I’m fine. I promise. Thanks, man. Really.”

Marty waved his hand and got his keys. “Just get better, all right? Or I really will call your aunt.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get outta here.”

“See you in the morning.”

Sasha laid down after Marty left, intending to watch television. His body had other ideas and he could feel sleep pull at him. He curled up with a pillow in front of him and wished it was Neal’s body instead.

Chapter Five

Interview with a Veterinarian

Trying to get into his suit jacket proved a challenge, but the outfit made the struggle worthwhile. He’d selected a dark charcoal grey that set off the rich brown of his eyes and his sable hair. He loved the tie, a shade of blue that reminded him of the sky in summer.

It, too, set off his eye and hair color, he had to admit.

The bruises didn’t help anything, and neither did the shiner, but he couldn’t do anything about that. He came down when Marty buzzed his mobile phone and the massage therapist sat waiting in his goldenrod—not yellow, Gods forbid you call it “yellow” in front of Marty—Mustang.

“Hey, Marty.” Sasha got in the car and sat back.

“How you feelin’?” Marty asked, pulling away from the curb.

“Better, but stiff,” he admitted. “I’m glad I don’t have to wear a suit every day.”

Marty eyed him. “You look hot.”

Sasha preened. “Thanks.”

Marty hit the button to turn the CD player back on, and Nickelback poured out of the speakers. They didn’t speak on the way to Northwestern and Sasha enjoyed the ride.

He pulled out the directions when they got there and they navigated to the newer section of campus to a parking lot. “I’ll wait for you here,” Marty told him. “Good luck.”

Sasha grinned. He went up the stairs to the newly constructed building and found his way to Doctor Charles Salisbury’s office. While the University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign was well-known for its veterinary sciences, he’d been referred to Dr. Salisbury by his graduate advisor in Madison. Dr. Salisbury planned to build a new discipline through the Life Sciences program at Northwestern and wanted a recent doctoral recipient to help build it. While the job resembled something a grad student would do, Dr. Salisbury’s reputation in the field could be exactly the thing Sasha needed to make his own mark on veterinary science.

That his mom wanted him to become a doctor, and not a vet, was only a small annoyance. It wasn’t like she could remember anything now, not in the state she was in.

Funny, but that didn’t help make it better…

“Doctor Soskoff?” A trim man in his mid forties stood before him, silver starting to wing from his temples into dark brown hair.

“Doctor Salisbury. It’s good to finally meet you. Doctor Fowler spoke very highly of your time together at Stanford.”

“You weren’t exaggerating about your recent…experiences.” He peered at Sasha. “How are you feeling?”

“Just fine. It looks worse than it is.”

“Which we both know is plenty serious,” the doctor lectured. “Come. My office is two doors down. Can I get you some coffee?”

“That would be nice.” He followed the doctor into his sunny yellow office, overflowing with rhododendrons, pothos plants, spider plants and several species of fern. A huge fish tank took up one whole bookcase on the right, and a bird cage with an enormous Scarlet Macaw stood behind his desk with an open roost nearby.

The parrot squawked loudly when they walked in and said, “Hello, Doctor. Hello, Doctor.”

Sasha grinned. “Hello.”

“Grape,” the bird responded.

“Grape?”

“Grape.”

Dr. Salisbury handed him a sprig of fat green fruit. “He calls everybody Doctor. Feed him, or he’ll never leave you alone. His name’s Faust.”

“Grape.”

“All right, all right, you big baby,” Sasha soothed. He held a grape poised through the bars and Faust took it with a delicate movement. Sasha fed him the rest, one by one, lost in the experience. He loved birds, but no one he knew could afford such a magnificent specimen. “He’s a Macaw? Scarlet Macaw?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Raised him from the shell myself,” Dr. Salisbury answered. “Devilish little blighter too. Crushed my best pocket watch, so mind your fingers.”

“Scratch,” Faust demanded.

“May I?” Sasha asked.

Dr. Salisbury helped him open the cage after double-checking that the door to the hall was closed. Faust hopped onto Sasha’s proffered wrist and let him move him out of the cage, ducking his head to the side to keep him from bumping it on the edge of the metal. Sasha laughed at the sight. Faust’s upper beak looked like smooth ivory, while his lower one darkened to almost ebony. It reminded him of a piano.

Faust cocked his head, eyeing him, and then hopped onto his shoulder. He stepped around and hunkered down with his head under Sasha’s ear, bunched up into a compact ball of feathers.

Dr. Salisbury laughed. “I’m sorry. The old boy is rather fond of you, it appears. He never does that with strangers. Would you like to sit down?”

The entire interview passed with Faust curled up on his shoulder, every once in a while pausing to comb his hair. Extraordinarily well-behaved, the bird didn’t nip at his fingers or ear once the entire time, and got a special treat from Dr. Salisbury at the end.