Silent Cravings (42 page)

Ashi was still mumbling behind Christoph’s hand.

Christoph turned to Jessica. “I’m sorry we upset you. We have happy stories, too. And I don’t think of the people here as belonging to same group as Malik and Saojin Fung, trust me. I’d be hiding in the closet with Ashi if that were the case. A real closet. In a totally manly way.”

Jessica was still pale, her eyes wide as she stared at Christoph. She was too shocked to laugh, though Clarisse managed a faint chuckle.

“God, that’s horrible,” Jessica whispered. “How could they do something like that?”

“Lass, those atrocities are nothing new. Look at Attila the Hun. Vlad Dracul. Hitler. Ye donnae have tae be vampire tae be psychotic. And just because we need tae drink blood tae survive does nay mean that some incredible personality shift takes hold of us. Most of the time, anyway,” Clarisse said, though that last was muttered a bit quieter than the rest. “We are the same people we were before we turned, just with different needs.”

Jessica shivered. “God, no wonder he thought we were all crazy.”

“If you could not bring it up with Analie, that would be great,” Christoph said. “She hasn’t heard all the stories. She’s not of age yet.”

He removed his hand from Ashi’s mouth. “Anyway, here’s your tiny Korean man. I’m going to see if Analie has cookies.”

With that he slapped Ashi on the back, gave him a thumbs-up, and marched over to Mouse’s apartment.

Jessica nodded, rather nonplussed. “I have to get back to studying. I’ll see you guys later.”

Clarisse gave her a faint smile and a pat of encouragement before she hurried off, then looked Ashi up and down, pursing her lips. He looked too frazzled to be of any use to her. Like Angus, she didn’t suffer useless donors, but maybe he’d come around once he saw that she wasn’t about to leap on him and steal what she wanted.

“Do ye want tae come in, lad? Ye can sit down and rest, if ye wish.”

No, I want to hide in my closet
.

“Sure,” Ashi said. Might as well make nice.

Chapter Sixteen

K
en was feeling mighty cheerful.

Requests were rolling in from the club’s web site for the new dancers. It amused him to no end that Ashi and Christoph hadn’t yet debuted and were already developing a fan base.

Ken was dashing in his immaculate three-piece charcoal pinstripe suit, the pink undershirt matching the tiny stripes. The small garnet in his earring matched the stones set into his cufflinks and tie tack. He smelled
terrific
and knew he’d catch the eye of every man and woman in the club. That was fine. He’d bask in the attention until the show started.

With a spring in his step, he headed upstairs, knocking on Sebastian’s apartment door. Loudly. Explosions and screeching car tires came from inside. He’d come early, counting on needing to help Ashi and Christoph get ready—they probably hadn’t even gotten dressed. Or even recalled that this was the night they were supposed to start working at Twisted Temptations.

Since Ashi’s stony glare tended to make people back away, he was never asked to open the door. Christoph got off the couch and lumbered over. He was in jeans and one of the few T-shirts that he’d been allowed.

He hadn’t remembered he was supposed to start “working” until he opened the door and blinked at the very well-dressed vampire grinning at him.

“Aw, shit,” he groaned. “That’s tonight?”

Ashi twisted around on the couch and his olive skin went pale as he spotted Ken. Since his ill-fated escape attempt and Clarisse had laid her claim, he had also done his best to forget that they were supposed to start working this evening.

“Oh, no way.”

Gregory silently helped Gavin pick through the wreckage that was once the alpha’s den. Very few of the books were damaged, and none beyond repair, but he was going to need new bookshelves. The contents of the beanbag were spread all over the room, the desk was smashed into fragments, and there were deep claw marks in the walls.

A massive black werewolf was in the corner, its mane stuck through with splinters. It panted heavily, snarling between breaths. A laptop lay upended on the other side of the room, the flickering screen offering glimpses of an e-mail with pictures promoting a new feature at a night club.

“Special mission, huh?” Gavin muttered to Gregory.

“Shut up,” Gregory spat back.

“I guess they’re undercover.”

“Shut
up
.”

“Yes, way,” Ken caroled, snapping his fingers and gesturing for the two to follow him to their bedroom. Sebastian and Thad were having a monstrously difficult time keeping their faces straight and hiding their grins as they focused on the TV.

“Have fun, boys,” Thad said, the mock-lisp not lost on Ken, who glared.

“Come on, you two, let’s hustle. We’ve got to be at the club in less than an hour.”

Ken didn’t wait to see if they followed, going straight to their closets and riffling for something for them to wear. Before long, he had an outfit hung over each arm. His choices weren’t too bad. Relatively speaking.

Leather pants for both, billowy button-down shirts (blue for Christoph, green for Ashi), and a strappy-looking contraption made of latex, leather, and nickel-plated rings completed the ensemble.

Christoph took the clothes and the strappy thing, making a face at the latter. “Okay. I’m pretty sure I haven’t forgotten how pants work, so what the hell is this thing?”

Ashi took the shirt and pants to the bathroom without a word. He left the contraption behind.

“If I’m wearing it, you’re wearing it,” Christoph called after him.

“Bite me,” Ashi said from the bathroom.

Christoph turned to Ken. “I fear your intentions. How’s this thing work?”

Ken sighed, lifting a hand to cover his face. He took a deep, unneeded breath, and took the strappy thing from Christoph, shaking it out and holding it up. It vaguely resembled a shirt when held the right way.

“You can undo the clasp in the front here, and put your arms through the top couple straps. It looks more complicated than it is.”

He set it down on the dresser, pointing out the simple snap-clasp on the front where all the straps connected.

“Wear it
under
the shirt. The idea is you take your time taking the shirt off like Reece showed you yesterday. Trust me, you’ll have the crowd eating out of the palm of your hand. Figured this would save your ‘delicate sensibilities’ if you two are too chickenshit to show off anything else,” Ken explained, grinning at that last. “We’re not about full nudity at Twisted Temptations, just the closest thing to it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this uncomfortable in my life,” Christoph said cheerfully as he pulled off his shirt and fiddled with the Bondage Shirt of Emasculation until he got it on. “It’s kind of tight.”

Ashi stepped out of the bathroom. He took one look at Christoph and turned back. Christoph sprinted across the room and grabbed his arm. “Oh-h-h-h, no. You’re putting yours on even if I have to beat you into unconsciousness first.”

Ashi had already put on his shirt, so he had to take it off. Christoph put his actual shirt on and twisted this way and that. As Ashi struggled into the BSoE, he glared at Christoph.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s not that bad,” Christoph said. “I could wear it all the time. The movies, the grocery store, on the bus, around the house...”

“Please don’t wear it around the house,” Ashi said, pulling the green shirt on.

“I could sleep in this.”

“I don’t want to room with a bondage freak.”

“You can move in with Reece.”

Ashi turned to Ken. “Can we please get this over with?”

Ken was trying hard not to laugh at Christoph’s cracks and Ashi’s discomfort. He plucked at the shoulders of Ashi’s shirt.

“That won’t do.”

He went back to the closet and started rummaging.

“Too tight in the shoulders, you can see you’re wearing something under it. You’re supposed to
surprise
the audience, not give it all away before you’ve even started. Damn that you’re so built for such a little guy.”

He pulled out a vibrant red shirt, giving it a dubious look before putting it back and immersing himself in rummaging.

“Christoph, you need to do something with that hair.”

He found a dark blue shirt and thrust it at Ashi. He snapped his fingers and gestured that they follow again, sauntering out.

“They were laughing at us,” Ashi muttered as they went downstairs.

“Ken, my hair is a dangerous beast that consumes all that tries to mess with it,” Christoph explained as they walked. “The best I can do is cut it into a smaller version of itself. Watch this.”

In the first floor hallway, he shook his head vigorously while scrubbing his fingers through his hair. It would have reduced anyone’s hair to a tangled, puffy mess. In Christoph’s case, when he dropped his hands and held still, his hair didn’t look that different. With a few tosses of his head left and right, the original curls settled into place.

“Uncanny,” Ashi commented.

“Isn’t it?”

Ken smiled, a wicked, sexy look that would’ve sent a man less secure in their hetero preferences running for the hills. “That
is
charming. But alas, you have not met my fantastic line of hair care products. That unmanageable beast is about to be tamed.”

He led the way into his apartment. Reece was reading
GQ
on the couch. His outfit was similar to the Weres’s, except that the white shirt had a high collar that only gave a glimpse of a white leather choker studded with silver rings. It was a stark contrast against the dark chocolate hue of his skin.

“Get your feet off the table!”

Reece muttered under his breath and dropped his combat boots to the floor, crossing his legs without looking up from the mag.

Ken flapped his hand at him in annoyance, which went ignored, then continued into the bathroom. To Christoph and Ashi’s eyes, it was like walking into a high-class restroom in some swanky hotel or restaurant, except with a lot more variety in the lotions and creams. Maybe a few more mirrors, too.

“Sit,” he demanded, “helping” Christoph onto the toilet with a hand on his shoulder. He selected five different products from a cabinet, putting them in easy reach. He thrust cologne at Ashi, then wet his hands in the sink and ran his fingers through Christoph’s hair.

“Good lord, do you ever run a brush through this?”

“It eats brushes,” Christoph protested. “I swear it devoured a man once. At SuperCuts they have to drown it to senselessness before they even get near it. Most shampoo screams and runs from it.”

“You don’t use shampoo,” Ashi pointed out.

“Exactly!” At Ken’s wide-eyed look, he quickly explained, “I wash it, seriously. Bar of soap, lather up your hands—” Christoph mimed scrubbing his hair.

When Ken turned to Ashi, speechless, the smaller man nodded. “That’s the way I do it. Shampoo is expensive, and it has a strong scent.” Ashi said, then held up the bottle Ken had handed him. “Also, what am I supposed to do with this?”

“I think we broke Ken,” Christoph said, looking up at the vampire, who was absolutely aghast.

“You… you heathens!” he exclaimed. “God… SuperCuts?
Bar
soap?”

Shuddering, he twisted around, pointing to the bottle in Ashi’s hands, deciding he would ignore their barbaric ways—just for tonight.

“Spray some on one wrist, then rub your wrists together. Don’t get it on your shirt, for God’s sake.”

He was so mad, he’d even lost some of his lisp.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…
You
are getting a haircut after tonight. Would that I had enough time!”

Growling savagely under his breath, Ken proceeded to attack Christoph’s hair with some leave-in conditioner, finger-combing the tangles before graduating to using a pick. Followed by a brush. Followed by a comb.

Next he grabbed some kind of cream, introducing new tangles as he scrubbed it into Christoph’s hair. Pick. Brush. Comb.

Followed by a second cream. Rinse, repeat.

Frown. Not enough.

More water, a little bit of some kind of lotion. A few savage attacks with the comb in places.

Finally, a smile.

“Much better. Almost done.”

The wild, tangled mass of curls was actually… gone. Christoph’s hair was
straight
. Poufy, perhaps, but nothing like it had been fifteen minutes ago now that it was neatly brushed back until it reached his shoulders. Only hints of its former, riotous nature remained at the tips.

Ken grabbed a bottle, an oily, sweet-smelling liquid squirting out, making Christoph flinch. Ken lightly ran his fingers one last time through Christoph’s hair, slicking it back, smoothing it out, and giving it a lustrous shine it never had before.

“Ta-da-a-a-a! I’d dare say the beast has been
tamed
!” He paused. “That is not as bad as I was afraid it would be.”

Ashi stared at Christoph. “Holy shit, you look like a model.”

Christoph tentatively touched his hair. Ken slapped the hand away.

“I’m afraid to look.”

Ashi put some of the cologne on his wrists and rubbed them together. “We don’t use this stuff. Smell you coming from a mile off.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called a heathen for bar soap,” Christoph muttered. He kept blowing at the strands on the side of his face. “It’s great for cutting up, too. Then everyone can have their own little bar.”

“You’re scaring the vampire,” Ashi said, sniffing his wrists. He sneezed.

“Scent is a key factor, boys. You want to be
remembered
. You’ll have to get your own after tonight, but for now, you can use mine. It makes the first impression last when every part of you is as fab as Christoph’s hair.”

He grinned and lightly slapped Christoph on the shoulder. Even the inhuman bit about
sharing
a bar of soap for their toiletries couldn’t get him down.

“Put on some cologne,” he said to Christoph, reaching out to adjust the collar of his shirt. Crooking a finger, he sauntered out of the bathroom, inordinately pleased with himself.

Reece glanced at them over the top of his mag, eyes widening and giving a low whistle.

“
Very
nice. Sweets, if you ever get tired of Mouse, you know where to find me.
Day
-um!”

Ken smirked. “Let’s go, honey. Time to knock ʼem dead!”

Reece got up, giving both Weres appraising looks. Ken led the way to the car, head high and his arm linked in Reece’s.

Christoph jokingly tried to link his arm in Ashi’s but was thwarted by Ashi’s thumb jamming into a pressure point on his elbow. He cradled the arm as they climbed into the backseat of the car.

“If we ever make it back to California alive,” Ashi muttered, “we will never speak of this.”

Christoph nodded and the two crawled into the backseat of Ken’s BMW.

Ashi sat back, staring at the car’s roof. “Of all the places I expected to wind up, this wasn’t one of them.” He picked at the BSoE under his shirt. “This thing is driving me crazy.”

“It could be worse.”

“No, it really can’t.”