Swiping his mouth didn’t alleviate the tingles assaulting his lips. Mace skidded onto the shoulder and switched off the vehicle’s engine. He banged the steering wheel until his hands ached. Eager about the prospect of finding a man to spend more than one night with, it angered him the fucker anticipated nothing more than bilking him. “Vampire my ass.” Did he think Mace some stupid old jackass who’d fall for any story spouted to hide what he’d planned? Shit, Kirk was right. Not even he had come up with such an elaborate plan. He simply offered his ass regularly.
What had prompted his father to install cameras without his knowledge? Mace never missed a day of work as he didn’t care to hear claims that Sub Rosa kept him from Kildare. Wasn’t as if there were trade secrets missing. Goddamn it, Mace wouldn’t know if someone had stolen blueprints, as he had no desire to be involved in management sessions where difficulties of that sort would be discussed. Furthermore, how the hell had Joshua gained access to videos at Kildare?
First thing Monday, he’d visit security, investigate the tapes dating back to the night he’d met the man. “How fucking dare he attempt to blackmail me!” Christ, his father would be disappointed at Mace’s base actions in the office. Didn’t matter. No way would he give in to a punk trying to take a single penny. “I’ll view the tapes alone, destroy anything exposing…” Hysterical laughter slipped through lips. “I jacked off thinking about that bastard.”
Hand poised over the key, Mace became dead still. Joshua’s slacks had been damp, his own pants snared around his ankles. But when Mace perused Joshua’s slacks before leaving, they showed no sign of soiling.
Good God! “What the fuck is going on?”
* * *
Hardly a week had elapsed. Joshua, infuriated, paced his living room, destroying items as he went. Mason was at Underground alone. “No, damn you, not tonight.” Creating a whirlwind, Joshua vanished. He arrived at the club in time to see Mason, cock in hand, reveling in the sight of two men fucking. Beautiful, the way he played with himself as one man’s hard dick filled the other’s asshole. Lust-filled green eyes glinted in the soft light, tugging him across the room. Joshua smelled him, wanted to drop to his knees and take Mason’s dick in his mouth. The men need not know a thing.
Hell’s sake, Joshua loved the sound of skin striking skin. But the turmoil Mason had experienced after leaving Joshua’s house that day had been buried. Or so Mason thought. Bringing it to the forefront here would break him.
Joshua was near losing it watching the man’s chest rise and fall, the way air puffed through his parted lips -- lips Joshua knew were warm and demanding. Slipping into Mason’s mind had been a mistake. Joshua picked up every bit of longing. When Mason sent a stream of cum… Fuck’s sake! He thought of Joshua. Eyes closed, he remembered thinking Joshua young and beautiful. Mason recalled Joshua craving time, himself wanting more with Joshua.
He didn’t desire being with either customer.
It’s sex. Witnessing bliss and contentment ablaze on a lover’s face while being filled with a hard dick had nothing to do with what they felt in their hearts. And everything to do with what they experienced together.
Lost in reverie, Joshua missed the men finish. One was gone and the other kept reaching for Mason’s softening prick. Batting the man’s hand away, Mason ordered, “No. Stop. I’m not interested.”
However, Mason eventually succumbed, as he loathed making a scene.
Joshua ripped the man’s hand away and led him across the room. How foolish he looked, arm outstretched, navigating his naked ass into the hall. Once there, Joshua carted him into the atmosphere. But not before one more of Mason’s opinions invaded his mind. I wish you were dead, Joshua.
Those words, more than the aggressive man’s actions, led to the motherfucker’s demise. Streaking into Philly, Joshua attained a destination he thought fitting. Held him above Ben Franklin’s statue. “A good place to die.”
“What are you… don’t do this.”
“You touched something precious, someone that belongs to me.”
“Please, put me down.”
Joshua loosened his grip.
“Don’t drop me. Oh, God, Jesus, someone help,” he yelled.
“Only the pigeons can hear you.” Joshua latched onto the man’s throat and drank until exhilaration overflowed. “And I don’t give a fuck.”
He released the motherfucker. Peering down, saw him hit the lip of Franklin’s hat. He felt infinitesimal consolation finding the evil within. Wouldn’t have mattered if he had been a devout, go-to-church every Sunday kind of man -- he was dead the instant he disrespected Mason’s request.
Joshua had lost his mind.
* * *
Days later, Joshua sat in his favorite chair near the fireplace. He stared at the chaos strewn about. After restoring order a few nights ago, he’d destroyed it all again. “Fucking childish.” I’m mad so I’ll break all my toys. “Senseless bullshit.”
Only Mason could make him this crazy.
Joshua could have exercised magic to decorate the house bequeathed to him by Sten, but Drew had done a better job. Drew not only had an eye for color, he had arranged comfortable furniture in a way that left the living space open but somehow cozy. He had created a home. Not as if Joshua planned on entertaining, but if he did, admiration in beholders’ eyes would acknowledge the decorator’s handiwork. Each room was a showcase. Joshua wished he’d had a chance to share more than the foyer with Mason. “Bastard.”
His destructive period behind him, Joshua failed to remember a damn item raised at the enclave meeting. Had he been charged with responsibilities?
“They have been handled.” Sten had once again arrived silently.
“Shit.” Looking at Sten, Joshua now saw a king. The transformation from, well, to say he was an animal barely grazed the surface. Sten Majković was a monster.
Before Drew.
“Was being the operative word.” Sten sat across from Joshua. “You wonder how I do it with Drew? The only explanation I have is seeing him gain pleasure fills me with happiness.”
“I get that.” Joshua, having stalked Mason back to the voyeur club, understood very well. The look on Mason’s face as he watched two patrons couple had made Joshua wet. But glorying in Mason’s pleasure did not prevent Joshua from hauling out the reprobate who touched Mason after he said no. “The man was out of line.”
“That may be, but he didn’t deserve to die as he did, Joshua.” Sten leaned forward. “Cleaning up your mess encompassed wiping far too many minds.”
“Fuck him. No other customers will be subjected to his unwanted attentions.”
“Cease your madness.”
“Right.”
“You need Mason.”
“Don’t you get it, Sten? He doesn’t want me.”
“His blood demands you. Mason won’t understand. He’ll become restless. Shit, he’s already an angry old bastard, but his anger will increase tenfold.” Sten rose from his seat. “Damn it, Joshua, you knew better. Vampires with a grudge will locate him. You projected his scent like a missile at the gathering. Some studied you a bit too closely, but I cannot kill them for curiosity.”
“Curiosity?”
“Word is out. Vampires the world over seek mates to alleviate loneliness. It’s a blessing to discover one.”
“He wishes I was dead.”
“When did you become so sensitive? You are dead. And Joshua, you are a thief, as well.”
“What the fuck did you say?”
“I called you a thief. You stole his blood. You egged him on to bite your lip.” Sten’s scowl deepened. “He wouldn’t be in this predicament aside from your cowardice.”
“You go to far.”
“I can go further.”
Joshua stood. “Is that a threat, Sten?”
“Wreak more havoc, and it’s a promise I’ll see to fruition.”
Joshua did something inconceivable. He struck Sten. “I. Am. Not. A. Coward.”
“That certainly wasn’t the action of one.”
Drew reeled into the room, surrounded by mist. “Stop!”
Sten’s fingers came away from his mouth covered in blood. “Babe, this doesn’t concern you.”
“Hell it doesn’t. You two have performed this song and dance for weeks,” Drew declared. “Sten, I’m tired of it.”
Joshua had failed to recognize the turmoil he’d triggered in everyone’s lives. He was partial to Drew. As fearless and determined a human as he’d been, Joshua respected the vampire Drew had become. The man brought balance to Sten’s life and no matter the consequence, he stood behind him as if he were a pillar of God himself.
“I’m tired of it, also.” Sten launched across the room. Joshua imagined himself fast but he never had time to react before he was banged against the wall. Pictures fell from anchors as the partition split. Sten grasped a handful of Joshua’s shirt, wrenching him from the gaping hole and sending a spray of buttons sailing into the air.
“Bitch! I liked this shirt.”
“You’ll need another one.” Sten yanked him forward, bit into his neck, and Joshua knew blood would soak the collar.
Fabricating another shirt was probably what he should have done. Instead, he swung his fist at Sten for the second time that day. Joshua connected with a steely palm that didn’t move.
“You don’t get to hit me twice in a lifetime. Remember that.” Sten slammed Joshua to the floor and straddled him. “Do I need to further mangle your fancy outfit?”
Joshua knew he could fight the strongest vampire alive for hours, only to end up dead. If Joshua managed to kill Sten, he’d still end up dead. Lose, lose. “Goddamn you.”
“Nasty fucking mouth.” Sten’s eyes flashed red before returning to their normal brown. Lowering his hand, he smeared the traces of blood across Joshua’s lips. Anger emanating from the king discharged unbearable heat, an inferno that would have withered a younger vamp. “I’m done with this.”
“Sten?”
“Damn it. I must be stark raving mad.” Sten’s eyes returned to red. “Drop another motherfucker from the sky for no good reason and, without alleviating pain, you’ll forfeit what I’ve shared.”
Joshua blanched. Sten had provided Joshua with more of his blood than he’d ever delivered to any vamp aside from Drew.
“Your death will be excruciating.” Flashing to his feet, Sten glared down at Joshua.
“He’s beautiful, Sten, and he’s mine. Don’t ever call him old.”
“I’ll be able to call him Methuselah at the rate you’re progressing.” Taking Joshua’s hand and helping him to his feet, Sten told him, “It’s time.”
Drew waved his hand, setting the room in order. “Bring him here, Joshua. Mason requires a longer interval to know you.”
Between Sten and Drew, Joshua knew he had no choice. “Fuck’s sake, this should be fun.” He took solace in the knowledge that another human might not die needlessly.
* * *
Mace stared into his empty glass, remembering his last evening at Underground. He’d watched two customers perform. Got off on it. Amazed him he didn’t have the desire to take one of them, or offering his own ass. One man exited, the other remained. He pestered and pestered, even after Mace issued an emphatic no to anything further. Mace wondered briefly what to do without causing commotion when, suddenly, the man, seemingly in a trance, walked out in an odd pose.
Joshua.
Thoughts of him ruined Mace’s evening. He’d wished Joshua dead. The gorgeous bastard had taken up residence in his mind and, inexplicably, Mace continued to sublet space. He embraced revisiting their time together. Mace wasn’t a saint. He’d had many men. Were any of them what he wished for a lifetime commitment? One or two met criteria; however, none lodged in his brain as Joshua had. They weren’t memorable. Hell, he had a hard time dredging up Kirk’s face.
At work, Mace was not himself. He had been reproached numerous times by his father when he was onsite, and supervisors for lashing out needlessly. Any slight miscalculation in a plan and he was all over his employees. The situation had become so bad, the staff had requested he take a couple weeks off.
His Sub Rosa staff fared no better. They tiptoed around Mace. He’d heard two employees discuss him in the wine cellar. Both professed to liking and respecting him before he started spending all day on premises. If he fired them, he’d be left short just as he’d started to get Paul up to speed.
“What is wrong with me?” Unpredictable and angry, Mace knew he had to get it together.
Seated at his normal table, he was accosted by a stranger who had a great smile. “I’m Michael.”
“Mason.” Didn’t shorten it, didn’t add his last name.
Michael was a bit thin for his liking, but he came off pleasant enough. His brown hair looked professionally styled. He dressed well and spoke quietly -- Mace had to lean toward the man so as not to miss a word. He’d only just moved to Philly and had been told about Sub Rosa by a frequent customer he’d befriended on his new job.
Mace accepted his offer of a drink and watched Michael walk to the bar. Recollection of another night when he’d accepted a drink from a stranger took root. The gentleman he waited for didn’t hold a candle to Joshua. How was it possible he’d allowed a man he knew for a short time to wreak havoc with his life?
Mace’s breath hitched in his throat when he noted Joshua enter. He wished Michael would turn and head back the way he’d came. Joshua should be here. He should be sitting at Mace’s table.
Then Mace remembered the son of a bitch was nuts. So why do I see him and feel like it doesn’t matter? Mace had hoped for more with Joshua. He was fucking sorry he’d wished him dead. Last thing I want.
His hand shook when Michael sat and slid Mace’s drink across the table. That was the move Joshua had made that had caused the scratch on Mace’s thumb.
When Michael didn’t let go of the glass, Mace hesitated.
“Let it go, Michael.”
It shocked the hell out of Mace to see Joshua had reached the table already, as well as the fact that Joshua knew Michael’s name. “You two have met?”
“You could say that.” Michael’s lips warped into a grimace. “I warmed his bed one night.” He scooted his chair sideways. It appeared he didn’t like Joshua at his back. “A very, very long time ago.”
“And that will never happen again.”
Michael had to swivel in his seat to look at Mace. “Meeting you, I see why. You could double for --”
“Michael, leave.”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Know what?” Mace should have been afraid, but anger laced his words. “One of you better explain.”
“After he’s gone.”
“Don’t fret, Joshua, I’m leaving.” Rising, Michael reached to touch Mace’s hand. A cold finger ran from wrist to fingertip. “He’s beautiful, Joshua. Cosimo Rosselli’s Descent from Mount Sinai would have held center stage at the Sistine Chapel if he were the model.” Michael moved away from the table and without taking his gaze off Joshua. “We shall meet again, Mace.”
Gone. Nothing.
Mace peered around to see if anyone else had witnessed the craziness occurring at his table. Customers carried on with their evening. They laughed, drank, and talked. No one looked in their direction. It was as if the corner Mace occupied didn’t exist.
The air grew frigid and Mace’s breath formed a vapor trail. Joshua resembled a statue. If he breathed, there was no tell-tale sign. His chest didn’t rise and fall, his lips never moved. Yet Mace heard, “Should that occur, you will die, Michael.”
“He’s gone…” Mace’s teeth chattered, and he shivered uncontrollably. “Jesus Christ, did you just threaten his life?”
“No.” Joshua turned toward Mace, moving in slow motion. “I made him a promise.”
Next thing Mace knew, he was in an unfamiliar living room, standing in front a blazing fire. “What the… where in God’s fucking name am I?”
“My home.” Joshua added, “Should you really need God, how do you suppose he’d know if you constantly harangue him sacrilegiously?”
“I’m losing my mind.”
“You’re not.” Joshua sat in a chair, put his head back, and closed his eyes. “I, however, will probably be committable after trying to sort this out in a manner you can understand.”
“Start by telling the truth. Is your last name even Nun?”
“Short version, I’m a vampire. Long version -- I’m a vampire who walked at Moses’ side. After him, I touched the tablets miraculously engraved with the Ten Commandments. I hurried everyone through the parted Red Sea, and I ushered God’s children into the promised land.” His blue eyes opened and arrowed a deadly look. “I am the son of Nun from the tribe of Ephraim.”
“My fucking Go --”
“Say God after that word, and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap.”
“You’re mad.” Or Mace was. He had stepped into a modern version of The Outer Limits and he had no idea where the exit was.
* * *
Joshua could not recall a time he felt so thoroughly drained. Drawing air noisily into his lungs, he remained silent. Calming himself did not happen as fast as he’d like. Mason had begun walking the floor, and it frayed his nerves. Joshua realized Mason had had a shock but, damn, so had Joshua.
The other vamps had made their move quickly. A sigh burst from his lips. Shit, this wasn’t quick at all. They’d had weeks to mount an offensive. Plus, Sten had warned him two or three times, when once should have been plenty. Hell, Joshua knew it would happen the night he finally approached Mason.
Sending Michael had been smart. Or had he worked on his own?
Michael had told the truth when he admitted to sleeping with Joshua once. Damn Romans and their orgies. Younger, by vampire standards, he hadn’t been Joshua’s first choice. An older senator with glorious gray hair had captured Joshua’s attention, but the man fell asleep and, well, still randy, Joshua reached for the first available body. Michael. Who remained unaware Joshua had taken some of his blood before exiting the party.
Joshua couldn’t recall what the celebration was for. Bacchanalia came to mind. What he did remember was Michael’s lifeforce was laced with that of an ancient. Not nearly as old as the blood coursing Joshua’s veins thanks to Sten. Still, Michael’s master was one wily fucker. He’d come after Mason to get his hands, or rather his mouth, on Joshua’s blood, in turn imbibing that of Sten. “Just my luck.”
“You stole some of Michael’s blood too? You are a thief.”
His eyes snapped open. “Fuck you, Sten.” He jumped up and scanned the room. “Shit, Mace.”
“You’re a mess. Concentrate and you’ll feel him. He’s wandering around the grounds searching for a way out.”
“What? It’s dark.”
“My blood makes it unusual, but you actually fell asleep. Dawn approaches. I’ve set safeguards. Drew is following Mace. He can’t go anywhere but, damn, you were careless.”
“As you had been.”
“Yes. They do tend to put our panties in a bunch.”
“I go commando myself.” Joshua paced the same path Mason had. “Matthias remains bitter about not being an original Apostle. Only one could soothe him. Unfortunately, he’s gone.”
Sten stared mysteriously at Joshua, then shrugged. “Matthias also hates that you and your leader, Moses, are loved as much by the populace today as you were thousands of years ago.” Sten walked behind the bar and poured a shot of vintage cognac, downing it in one gulp. “We’ve not occupied the same continent in centuries. Somehow, he’s become harder to decipher. He despises the fact that I chose to align myself with you in his stead.” Pouring a second shot of cognac, he scoffed, “Always the bridesmaid.”
“Matthias will do anything for a mere speck of your blood.”
“Including capturing and draining the one chosen for you. Seems Matthias is forever in the wrong place or time.”
“Do you believe he sent Michael?”
“Probably. He’d feel it beneath himself to wrangle with one he judges an acolyte. Also, he’s counting on the fact I can’t read him at all.”
“I should have…”
“No, you shouldn’t. Had you slayed Michael in front of Mace, it would put a strain on your… courtship.”
“I don’t have time for this shit, Sten.”
“You do. My shields here will hold.”
“Shields? Who are you?”
Both spun to face Mason. Sten crossed the room and extended his hand. “Sten Majković. A friend of Joshua’s.”
Recognition dawned. “You were with him at Sub Rosa.”
“Yes.”
“Are you what he is?”
“Vampire?”
“Bullshit if you ask me, but it’s what he claims.”
“Really?” Dematerializing to a spot behind the bar, Sten poured another drink and transported it back to Mason, who stood rooted to the spot, jaw hung open. “Bourbon?”
Mason snatched the glass from Sten and downed the contents. “This shit is real?”
Sten shrugged a shoulder. “At times I find it an unfortunate circumstance but, alas, I am their king.”
“Jesus…”
Joshua jumped in. “Don’t, Mason.”
“Right, right.” Mason contemplated his empty glass. “Bloodthirsty monsters who don’t like blasphemy.” He set the glass on the coffee table. “You bible thumping bastards can kiss my ass.”
Laughter heralded Drew’s arrival. “You’ll get used to not sullying the Lord’s name in their presence.”
“Another one?”
“A short while ago, I was human.”
Mace studied the gathering. “How is it the human becomes odd man out?”
“I’ll show you around.”
Drew took charge and Joshua was glad as hell he had. “When you’re finished, show Mason to the main guest room.”
“Can’t get my phone to work, but I’m not staying here,” Mason assured them.
“Your plan was -- is -- what?” Joshua asked. “Reach the main road and hitchhike?”
“Exactly. Damn big gate at the end of the drive has no mechanism that I could locate. I don’t know my surroundings, and there’s no way I’m walking through the woods.”
“Good thing too. There be dragons in that forest.”
“Drew!”
Drew cleared his throat at Joshua’s admonishment. “Too fucking tense in here. Mason, you can’t leave, so you may as well come with me. It’ll do you good to talk to someone who understands.”
Joshua waited for them to go before he spun on Sten. “Bible thumping! Do you see what I’m up against? I can’t do this.”
“Fine. I’ll remove my safeguards and he can return to Sub Rosa. That’ll be the end of it.”
“I hate you, Sten.”