Duet in Blood (8 page)

“Sautéed potatoes and asparagus tips in a butter sauce. Would
monsieur
care for some wine…or a beer?”

I giggled. “Would you think me a trifle gauche if I said I preferred beer to wine?”

“Not at all,
monsieur
. Your wish is my command. Please to sit, here.”

Oh, I like this
, I thought, watching him move with his panther-like grace, his hot butt outlined by the thin silk of his robe. I sighed with happiness—all this and dinner, too. He brought me my beer and a scorching kiss that threatened to postpone the lavish meal spread before us. His smile on my lips told me he was thinking the same thing. We chuckled together, then he moved away to his seat but not before I caught a glimpse of the tenting in front of his robe.

“
Salud
,” he murmured, clinking my glass with his.

“
Salud
.” I gazed at him, trying to remember if I had ever been happier.

“I don’t think I have ever been happier,” he said, his beautiful eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

“There you go again,” I said. “Reading my mind...”

“Two minds with but a single thought.” He gave me that astounding smile of his again, before taking a sip of his wine. “Someone, somewhere, said that—but I can’t remember who.”

“And right now, they’re one-track minds,” I kidded. “Seriously though, you have made me feel so much better about myself, Joseph. I thank you for that.”

He reached for my hand and grasped it firmly. “I’m glad I have been able to at least do that. I know a failed relationship can often leave a person feeling inadequate, but believe me, Micah, you are far too special a person to be a victim of low self-esteem. You are a very sweet, witty and caring young man.” His eyes twinkled as he added, “And an extremely accomplished lover.” I blushed at his words but loved hearing them. Boy, no one had ever said anything like that to me before.

Especially Robert.

“Now, I suggest you eat up before all this gets cold. Another beer?”

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49

“Please.” I tucked into the delicious meal as he got up to bring me a refill for my glass.

“Joseph…I was thinking. Would you like to come to my place tomorrow night? I can fix us something to eat and rent a DVD or something. Or we could just kick back and talk.”

“That would be delightful,” he said, pouring my beer. “But don’t cook anything for me.

I have an early business dinner. I can be with you around eight, if that’s all right?”

“Great! Oh, I almost forgot.” I ran over to the chair where I’d dropped my bomber jacket and retrieved the sunglasses I’d bought him. “Sorry about the cheesy wrapping...”

“What is this?” For a moment, he looked like a little kid as he eagerly tore the paper bag off the case. “Oh, Micah…”

Jeez, was he going to cry?

“That is so very sweet of you.” He put them on and smiled at me.

“You look like a movie star,” I said. “But I prefer looking at your eyes.”

He took off the glasses. His eyes were filled with tears.

“Aw, Joseph…” I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close against me.

“They’re just dumb glasses.”

“I will treasure them forever,” he whispered, his lips on my ear.

“Good luck with that. I can never keep those suckers for more than a couple of weeks!”

His lips took mine in a kiss so softly sensual that, not surprisingly, the great dinner did get very, very cold—but the sex we had was hotter than hot. It was after midnight when I finally told Joseph I had to leave.

“But Tuesday’s my day off,” I told him. “So, if you like, you can stay over tomorrow night.”

“But Tuesday is not my day off,” he said, tapping the tip of my nose with his finger.

“So, I will have to decline that very nice invitation. But…” He smiled at my noises of disappointment. “I reserve the right to accept at a future date.”

“You got it,” I said, moving into his arms and delivering a hot kiss to his lips.

“Micah,” he whispered in my ear then let his lips rest on my throat. I felt a sudden urgency in that movement, and I tightened my arms about him in anticipation of what was to come. Whatever it was did not happen, for he stepped back quickly from our embrace, a strange, haunted look on his face. Then, just as quickly, that look had gone, and he smiled at me as he kissed me goodnight.

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J.P. Bowie

50

Man, but I could almost swear I had never enjoyed body contact as much as I did with this guy.
He’s the best
, I told myself.

And I love him
.

DUET IN BLOOD

J.P. Bowie

51

Joseph

I smiled as I closed the door after Micah left. More and more, I could feel our soul-bond grow stronger. I knew he felt it too. I had tried hard not to read his thoughts, sensing he might be alarmed if he realised I really could. He had mentioned it on more than one occasion, but I had played the innocent, making it feel more like a coincidence to him.

Of course, I could not tell him the real reason I would not stay overnight at his apartment. He would no doubt flood the rooms with early morning light—and his gift of sunglasses would not save me from the sun’s rays. That which gave life to almost everything on this planet would bring me, and all those like me, a slow but sure and painful death.

There were times when Micah reminded me of Bernard, the one they had sent to initiate the change within me, the vampire who had brought me news of Marcus, and who had given me his blood. The same powerful blood that flowed in their veins now was a part of me. I wished he did not remind me of Bernard quite so much, for it brought back too many painful memories and a deep rooted fear for Micah’s safety. A foolish fear, really, I told myself, for the vile creatures that had dragged Bernard from me were long dead and, therefore, no longer a danger to anyone. Still, sometimes in my nightmare visions, they were very much alive. In those same nightmares, Angelo would appear before me, begging me to save him—

and I was helpless to do so.

Some years after they had taken Angelo from me, they had moved me to another of

their strongholds. Hidden deep in the subterranean caverns below an abandoned castle, they continued to terrorise me, keeping me weak so that I could not fight them off. They had learned that the change had made me stronger than most men. Once, in a fit of outrage, and not knowing how strong I had become, I had lashed out at the Master, breaking his cheekbone. My punishment had been terrible, and my supply of blood diminished to only enough to keep me alive. After all the years of praying that one day Marcus would hear of my captivity and come to rescue me, I had finally given up all hope. In my weakened state, I DUET IN BLOOD

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52

resolved to let myself die. How many years had I lived anyway? Much more than mortal men can expect. My parents would be long dead, the world outside changed and uncaring of my existence.

Die, Joseph
, I would tell myself over and over.
Just die
. But I could not die, for those who held me would not allow it. Each day, they brought me just enough blood, and each day, I wept as I drank it.

With a determined effort, I cleared my mind of those memories and glanced at my

watch. A little after midnight. Time to assuage my hunger before the streets of West Hollywood emptied for the night. The bars would soon spill out their young and boisterous patrons who would be heading home early in preparation for the new workweek to come.

Micah’s blood, pulsing sweet and strong under his skin, had been an almost

overpowering temptation. One day, I would have to tell him my true identity, reveal to him the darker side of me—that part of me that sends me out into the night, as it now did, to find that which would quench my thirst and satisfy the hunger that never really left me.

The streets and sidewalks of West Hollywood were damp from an earlier rainfall as I walked with measured nonchalance between the flashing lights and pounding music that beckoned passers-by into the anonymous ambience of the gay bars that lined both sides of Santa Monica Boulevard.

“Hi, you look lonesome.” The sweet-faced young man, who stood smoking a cigarette outside one of the more popular bars, gave me a sly smile.

“Can you take care of that for me?” I asked, preparing him for his affirmative answer.

“You bet.” He took my hand and led me into a nearby, darkened doorway. “You’re

hot,” he whispered, tugging at my fly.

I cupped his face between my hands and kissed his mouth lightly. “Open your eyes,” I said. As his liquid blue eyes gazed into mine, I entered his mind and told him that all he would remember of this encounter was that it had been wonderful. I then added the thought that he would never want to smoke another cigarette ever again. He gazed back at me with the complete trust of one whose will has suddenly been taken from them.

As my lips caressed his throat, his arousal pressed against my thigh. “Oh, feels so good,” he murmured. “So good…”

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53

My bite was clean and deep. He stiffened in my arms for just a moment, then he was clinging to me, pushing his neck against my mouth, as he sent his sweet, life-sustaining blood pulsing over my tongue. He shuddered and moaned aloud as he orgasmed without my ever touching him. I licked the puncture marks on his neck, my saliva immediately healing the wounds.

“Please stay,” he whispered as I stepped back from our embrace. I kissed him once more, before leaving him alone in that dark doorway, knowing that all he would remember of our meeting was that it had brought him pleasure—and that he was now a non-smoker.

Micah

Just before I got off work, I called my friend Ron Hendricks at the Italian restaurant he managed.

“Hey Micah.” He sounded surprised but pleased to hear from me. “How’s it goin’?”

“Good,” I told him. “Sorry I haven’t called in such a long time.”

“That’s okay, I know what it’s like when you’re in a relationship.”

“Uh…Robert and I broke up.”

“Oh gee, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“How are you doin’?” I asked, not wanting to talk about Robert.

“Good.”

“You seeing anyone?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, yes I am.”

“That’s great. Listen, I thought I’d stop by the restaurant when you take your break.

Have some coffee…catch up. You up for that?”

“Sounds good. Come by around six. We can use my office in back.”

“See you then.”

I put down the phone, feeling happy that Ron was in for renewing our friendship. I’d felt guilty about being out of touch for so long. Whenever Robert and I had gone out, which DUET IN BLOOD

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54

according to him, wasn’t very often, it had usually been with his friends, and I, in my weakness, had never complained or suggested an alternative.

The phone rang almost as soon as I had put it down. Jesse was helping a customer, so I picked up. “Barnett’s Bookstore. This is Micah.”

“Micah, it’s Robert.”

I felt a prickle of irritation at the sound of his voice. “Hi, Robert.”

“Listen, we need to talk.”

“We do?”

“Yeah…why don’t you meet me in say, a half hour. I’ll buy you a beer.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“What d’you mean, you can’t?”

“I’m meeting Ron Hendricks for coffee over at his restaurant.”

Robert snorted rudely. “That loser! Tell him you’ll see him some other time. I really need to talk to you.”

My irritation turned to annoyance. “Robert, you can’t keep telling me what to do. Those days are over—at your insistence, if you recall. Sorry, but I can’t meet you right now.”

“Well, when then?”

“I don’t know. I’m meeting Joseph later.”

“Who’s he?” Robert sounded pissed.

I sighed. “He’s the guy I’m dating. I told you about him.”

“Micah…” Robert’s voice held a slight tremor. “I really need to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“About you and me.”

“About you and me,” I repeated slowly. “There is no you and me. You took care of that,” I added for emphasis.

“Micah, I’m sorry.”

“So am I. Now I really have to go.”

“Micah, wait—”

“No. I’m done waiting. Goodbye.”

DUET IN BLOOD

J.P. Bowie

55

La Fortuna, the restaurant Ron managed, was within easy walking distance of my

bookstore. That’s what I loved about West Hollywood, nearly everything was walkable—and the eye candy on the sidewalks was always worth a second glance.

Except that, since I’d met Joseph, no one else seemed to compare.

Ron gave me a big smile as I entered the restaurant. I stopped for a moment, slightly taken aback by the way he looked. I really didn’t remember him being so handsome. The Ron I used to run around with was Mr. Average—good looking in a quiet, unassuming way.

Now, his dark brown hair had a lustrous sheen to it, his hazel eyes sparkled and his skin seemed to glow from within.

“Wow, Ron,” I gasped. “You look great.” And I meant every word.

“You too, buddy,” he said, wrapping me in a warm hug. His body felt hard and strong.

“You’ve been working out,” I murmured, running my hands over his muscular back.

“Not really…” He stepped back from our embrace and smiled at me. “I still run,

though. Keeps me in shape.”

“I should join you,” I said.

He took my arm. “Come on back. I’ve got a pot of coffee—and a lot of questions!”

Feeling his arm around my shoulders as he steered me towards his office made me

realise how much I had missed the easy camaraderie that had existed between us. Before Robert, Ron and I had clubbed together, gone on vacation together and met for coffee or lunch on a pretty regular basis. We had gotten to know one another’s little faults and foibles—when to tease, when to back off. We’d even slept together, once or twice. And even though it had been nice, we’d decided we’d rather be good friends, without the sex getting in the way.