Chapter Four

 

 

 

Because the club members were well-heeled men, they tended to behave themselves. Being the bouncer didn’t usually give Val much to do except wander around, making sure the boys weren’t being harassed. Being a warrior, he needed physical activity to release his energy and relieve the boredom. It had been different for most of his time on this miserable planet. There had been endless wars for him to wade in on. Any time the humans had produced a lull, Dracul had always been there to stir the pot. As grizzly as war was, it did keep one busy and tired.

Now he had to rely on the club’s workout room. The moment humans had any free time, they started finding ways to spend their own nervous energy and keep off the fat that plagued them. Val found the idea of using fancy machines ridiculous and avoided them when he could. The punching bag, however, was another story. Hitting something inert satisfied his restlessness without hurting anyone. Nothing for him to feel guilty about, and it kept him from being overly aggressive with the club members.

Especially the ones who hovered around Mackie.

Yeah, if he were honest with himself, it was the redheaded brat who drove him to punch the shit out of the boxing bag. Screw Dracul and his world domination crap. Val had, and could a thousand more years, faced down the traitorous male. But a diminutive boy with a fuck-you attitude gave him fits and had since the first time he’d laid eyes on him. He could still picture the skinny boy shivering in the middle of a brutally cold night, offering to do anything for a chance to get out of the frigid air.

Having lived among humans for so long, Val had developed an ability to see their emotions in their eyes. Mackie had been scared shitless of Val, yet had been more scared of freezing to death. There had also been something more there—desire. Despite the cold and the fear, the boy had wanted Val. So, Val had taken him—not to his bed, not that night or for many more after that. Instead, he’d brought him to Emil for food then to Alex for a job.

If he’d been smart, he would have left it at that. He hadn’t been. He’d dismissed the warning bells in his head and had invited the boy not only to bed, but also to the play rooms that Val had developed a taste for. Amazingly, Mackie had taken to the BDSM play with ease. The boy was naturally sensuous and submissive, which made him dangerous—for Val, anyway.

The workout room was empty, thank Christ. He wasn’t in the mood for chatting or sharing. He stripped to the waist and headed right for the punching bag hanging in the corner. There were gloves, although no one ever used them. The boys didn’t like boxing and Val certainly didn’t need them. Balling his hands into fists, he started in with a few warm-up jabs. Seconds later, he was beating the crap out of the thing.

He pummeled away, giving free rein to his natural speed and force. He knew the bag could take it as he’d set the thing up himself. With no one else currently in the club, other than those in the know about his true nature, he had no fear of discovery. He needed the outlet, to attack the bag as a substitute. Not of a person… He didn’t picture Dracul’s smug face or any other. No, his target became his perception of himself, all his emotions contained in one big, stuffed piece of leather.

The vicious blows he landed were against his damn feelings of longing for his home world and the hive. He punched out with his fists at the constraints of being trapped on a planet where he was forced to hide in the shadows. The hot, bright sun, the uncomfortable heat… The constant squabbles that humans had, giving Dracul easy ground to sow his deadly meddling. He hated it all and wanted to beat it to bloody remnants.

Val held nothing back, his arms and fists a blur to his own eyes. The bag shimmied with equal speed. The metal chain holding it up creaked ominously. His breath puffed out like the driving rhythm of a ship’s engines. His grunts turned to growls, his growls to a roar. He jabbed left, then right—short, vicious blows driven purely by power and no finesse. He attacked the bag without mercy, driving it up and out. There was no stopping the need to vanquish his emotions.

Pain. Loss.

His last punch sent the bag flying from its tether. It hit the opposite wall with a crash that he couldn’t even hear over the deafening sounds of his own demon thoughts and his harsh breaths. He stood staring, yet not seeing, trying to calm himself, then wondering what difference did it make anyway?

“Holy shit!”

Val whirled at the exclamation and had trouble processing who he was looking at through the lingering haze of his rage. He saw red, literally, and creamy pale skin surrounding wide, green eyes. Mackie. Of course, it would be the one person he didn’t want to be there. The boy was staring at him, his eyebrows raised and his lips parted. He was dressed like a reject from that stupid aerobics craze in the eighties. His hair was pulled back with a headband that matched his hair color, and he wore blue yoga pants with a skin-tight white tank top. The new belly ring he’d gotten added a tiny bump in the middle of an otherwise flat, taut stomach. The human looked adorable, as always. Lickable. Fuckable.

“What are doing here?” Val demanded, his surprise and embarrassment coming out as temper.

That was the wrong tack to take with the brat. Mackie’s expression changed to something between dismissiveness and allure. “I was going to work out. Good thing I wasn’t planning on using that.”

He pointed to where the punching bag lay in a heap on the floor with its stuffing spilling out. The wall where it had hit was buckled with plaster and wallboard hanging down. Val closed his eyes for a moment, partly to clear the last of his foggy state, partly because he didn’t look forward to explaining that little repair to Alex.

“Don’t let me stop you.” Val tried for casual. Failed, apparently, because instead of turning away from him, Mackie stepped closer.

“Are you all right?”

Fan-fucking-tastic, as Duncan had so elegantly stated hours ago. Now Mackie was worried about him—or worse, feeling sorry for him. “I’m fine. Just working off some steam.”

Mackie got within touching distance. “I know you guys are strong, but still… Seeing this makes me appreciate how much you were holding back when we, um…played. You could have taken off my head with one blow.”

“I would never hurt you.” It needed saying, even if Mackie hadn’t intended his observation to convey worry.

The boy’s lips turned down. “That’s not true. You cut me to the quick.”

The hurt his saw lurking in the boy’s eyes was difficult to observe. I had to, for your sake…and for mine. He didn’t express those thoughts out loud. He could never admit to Mackie how much it had pained him to do what he’d done, say those awful things that he hadn’t meant. It was better this way, inevitable. Their relationship had been doomed from the start because he had nothing left to give the boy.

“I meant physically.” He shifted his feet to leave.

With a deft move, the boy blocked him. “I know what you meant.” He swept his gaze up and down Val’s body. It was a visual caress that caused Val’s heart to beat faster and his blood to course down to his cock. “Now that I know you’re an alien, I understand why you never break a sweat.”

Val started to respond, found his throat constricted and had to clear it. “We have an internal cooling system.”

“You’re an interesting species, I suppose. There’s so much I don’t know.” Mackie reached out to place his palm against Val’s pec before Val could stop him.

No, that was a lie. Val’s reflexes were warp speed compared to the human’s. He almost sighed at the familiar touch. It took more self-control than he thought he possessed at the moment not to react.

Mackie pursed his lips. “Your skin is warmer than usual, the same way it used to be after you fucked me.” He flashed his eyes from under his lashes.

Val bit back a grunt and told his dick to chill out. But given that his core was dispersing the heat of his workout through his system, his cock was more than glad to accept some of it to harden. Thank God he wore tight enough jeans to contain it. Fixing his gaze past Mackie’s head, he tried to wait out the boy by not reacting to the provocative statement.

Mackie slid his fingers to the middle of Val’s chest and picked up the crucifix dangling there. “It’s funny,” the boy mused. “Our vampire legends say that you’re repulsed by the cross.”

“They’re just that…legends. Your religions mean nothing to us, but we adopted the one practiced where we first made our home, to blend in more. This was supposed to make them feel safe around us. We simply got into the habit of wearing them. Then, when the schism occurred with Dracul, it became a symbol of how we differed.”

“Huh, what would Jesus do?”

“If you like.” He ground his molars while he waited for the brat to tire of the game.

Dropping the crucifix, Mackie tipped his head back. “What are you afraid of, Val?”

He looked down his nose at the boy, knowing that it wasn’t going to work as an intimidation tactic. “Nothing.” Another lie. I’m afraid of caring again, of losing again.

Mackie pursed his lips. “Liar. I don’t believe you. It’s not like you guys are Vulcans or something. You have feelings. I can see that in Alex’s love for Quinn, Harry’s for Lucien and Demi.” He made a face at his mention of the boy. “No accounting for taste, I suppose. And, Emil is the biggest softy I’ve ever met.”

“You didn’t ask me if I had feelings. You asked what I was afraid of.”

“Same dif.”

Val furrowed his brows. “No. Fear is a subset of emotions. They are not the same thing, merely related.”

Mackie rolled his eyes at that answer. “So analytical. So always in control.” Rising on his toes, he steadied himself with both palms now pressed against Val’s chest. “Except when you were drilling my ass and flooding it with your cum.”

The boy licked his lips in a slow turn of his tongue. “You still want me, don’t you?”

Val’s gaze followed the provocative movement and stared at those pouty lips as they taunted him. But when Mackie snaked a hand down toward Val’s crotch, he snatched it before it reached its obvious destination. He held the small wrist with a tight grip.

Mackie dropped down to the flat of his feet with a whoosh for breath. “No fair. You have the advantage of alien speed.”

Val made his face go grim. “Don’t bait me, Mackie.”

The brat glared up at him and tried to tug his hand free. “You’re hurting me,” he whined when Val wouldn’t let go.

“No, I’m not, and you’d like it regardless.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Now who’s the liar?”

Mackie’s eyes narrowed, then he stood straight, and looked right into Val’s eyes without flinching. “Red.”

Val dropped the boy’s wrist before the ‘d’ had left his pretty lips. In all the times they’d played, Mackie had never given the pedestrian safeword that Val had insisted on. Stepping away, Val nodded once. “My apologies.”

Mackie rubbed at his newly freed wrist and stared at the floor. His lashes fluttered wildly, as if he were holding back tears. That couldn’t be. Val knew he hadn’t held him tightly enough to truly be in pain.

“I need to go,” Mackie blurted.

Waving at the door, Val said, “I’m not stopping you. I need to clean up my mess, anyway.”

“Not the room. I mean, I need to leave the club.”

“What?” The one-word question came out like a roar. Mackie flinched, making Val instantly regret his outburst. He didn’t want the boy to fear him. “Please clarify,” he said in a more modulated tone that nearly made his head burst with the strain of it.

“I-I need to find my own place again. Working here is one thing, but it’s like I’m a prisoner. I can’t stay here twenty-four-seven forever, living off Alex’s charity, hiding from I don’t know what.”

“A stone-cold mass murderer who has no more regard for you than you do an ant you might step on. That’s what you’re hiding from.”

“I don’t see why he’d care about me.”

“Because you’re part of our faction now.” He didn’t add that it was because Dracul would see Mackie as being Val’s, and that belief would be more than enough reason to rip the boy to shreds. The very thought sent Val’s system into overdrive. His fangs punched down, and he had to force them back.

“I can take care of myself. I was doing a fine job of it when we met. If I have to, I know how to get lost and stay off the grid.”

Val scoffed. “You were not and you do not. You were on the verge of starvation and freezing to death when I picked you up.”

“You would throw that in my face,” Mackie said back.

“I’m trying to keep you alive. Dracul and his boys are more cunning and deadly than you can imagine. You of anyone should know that.”

Now Mackie rubbed at his arm where it had been broken. “I’ll know what to watch out for this time around. You kept me in the dark before.” The bitterness came through.

Val knew shame at how badly he’d failed the boy. “I’m sorry for that. We’ll do better keeping you safe so long as you stay within our orbit of protection. It’s for your own good.”

Mackie folded his arms and now he was mad. Val knew that look, having seen it plenty. “Am I a prisoner?”

Val leaned down. “If necessary.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“Watch me.”

“Red!”

“No.” Val shook his head once. “This isn’t a game we’re playing. You stay put. If you try to run, I swear I’ll track you down and strap you to the St. Andrew’s Cross if I have to.”

Mackie’s eyes flared with anger and his chest rose and fell on a harsh breath. “I hate you!”

“Good.”

The boy whirled and stomped his way out.

“Good,” Val said again to an empty room. “It’s safer for both of us that way.”

 

* * * *

 

Mackie kept it together until he reached his room. He slammed the door behind him before letting the tears flow. God, he hated how emotional he’d gotten. Val wasn’t worth it, yet there was no stopping the crying. With his arms wrapped around his waist, he shuddered alone in the middle of the pretty space. It wasn’t his bedroom, not really. It was merely the place they had put him while he’d recovered from his broken arm.

For all its warm colors and expensive furniture, he hated it. It was decorated for human tastes, and he longed for what had become familiar to him. He wanted the alien bedroom that he’d shared with Val. He understood now the heavy, dark drapes and the large, sturdy bed. The black and silver were remnants from their home world décor, or so Quinn had said. The red accents were for blood, their delicacy. It all made sense now, and he missed it.

He missed Val. Damn it.

Mackie sat on the edge of his soft bed, sniffling like a baby. He couldn’t stand looking around at all his stuff boxed up from his apartment. Val had moved everything over without telling Mackie first and had paid off the lease, as well. Mackie would be safer at the club. That’s what he’d been told. And, of course, it made sense, except now Mackie was essentially once again homeless.

He hated that and hated being under some else’s thumb. That had been his miserable life for the first sixteen years. Then, he’d been at the mercy of the streets and strange men who wanted what his body could give them. Val had been the first man to treat him with respect and dignity, and wouldn’t you know? The guy wasn’t really a man at all. Being with him, playing with him, had been Mackie’s choice. The apartment that Alex’s generous wages and the club members’ even-more-generous tips had given Mackie had been where he could escape to any time he wanted.

Now that was gone. The only difference was that Mackie had money. That hadn’t been taken away from him. There was enough there for him to leave and start fresh, except that Val had made it clear Mackie wasn’t free to do so. Val would hunt him down, and it didn’t matter if the reason was sensible or protective. Mackie still felt trapped.

He swiped impatiently at his tears and tried to stop feeling sorry for himself and start thinking of a way out of the mess he was in. A knock on the door startled him. He was about to tell whoever it was to leave him alone when it opened, uninvited.

Quinn stuck his head around it. “Can I come in?”

Mackie sniffed, wiped and nodded. “Sure.” Quinn was his only real friend. Of all the boys he worked with, it was this newcomer who he felt a bond with. It might have been their shared terrorizing experience, but really, it was more about how sweet the Midwestern boy was. He’d stuck to Mackie’s side like a personal nursemaid, keeping him fed, helping him bathe. Hell, wiping his ass, and hadn’t that been a fun time for both of them?

He’d turned out to be good company, too. They spent most of their days watching trashy reality shows and gossiping about the aliens they lived among.

Quinn shut the door behind him. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. Why shouldn’t I be?” Mackie’s mother had always told him he was prideful. She hadn’t been wrong. Even with tears streaking down his cheeks, he hated admitting how unhappy he was.

Quinn gave him a pointed look before settling down beside him. “Well, aside from the fact that you are crying, there’s the little matter of how I saw you run out of the gym. Which, by the way, is going to be out of commission for a few days while mysterious wall damage is fixed.”

“That’s Val’s doing.”

“I know, sweetie,” Quinn replied with a pat to Mackie’s knee. “He was in extra-grim mode when I stepped inside to check out what had happened. I assume you two had a fight.”

Mackie rolled his eyes and wiped his face again. “If you can call it that.” He picked at the hem of his tank top. “He mostly told me what to do, as usual.” He left out the way he’d deliberately baited the guy with his teasing flirtation.

“They’re a bossy breed for sure. Plus, this new twist with the weird-eyed dead guy has put them all on edge. I can’t blame them for that. Can you imagine fighting a war off and on for a thousand years? And, on the down-low because you don’t want humans to catch on? I don’t know how they’ve managed it.”

“That was their choice, and yeah, I get that our species has been pretty unstable. But, at this point, why not reveal themselves?”

Quinn gave him the stink-eye. “What do you think would happen? Half the world would want to kill them out of fear, and the other half would want to weaponize them. Alex says there are fewer than fifty of them worldwide, and about half of those are Dracul’s goons. They’re not invincible, and I want Alex to stay safe. I love him,” he added, quite unnecessarily.

“I know you do. I can’t blame you. Alex is like the perfect man, which is hysterical given that he’s an alien.”

Quinn’s cheeks pinked up. “I wouldn’t say perfect. He has his faults.”

Mackie showed his dubiousness. “Name one.”

“Well. Um…” Quinn gnawed at his lower lip. “He’s overprotective. He won’t let me leave the club without him.”

Mackie dismissed that ‘fault’ with a wave of his hand. “That’s because he’s worried about you. You’re probably at the top of Dracul’s list of people to kill, not to freak you out or anything.”

“That’s okay. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. I’m plenty freaked out as it is. I do feel safe here at the club, though.”

“You should. It’s like Fort Knox now with the extra security Val installed. And we have a small team of linebacker-sized bodyguards.”

Quinn nudged him with his shoulder. “You should feel the same way. This is a good place to be, so how come you haven’t unpacked? You wouldn’t let me do it for you because you said you wanted to do it yourself, remember?”

Of course Mackie remembered. It had been a stalling tactic. He hadn’t been able to face it then and couldn’t now. He wasn’t sure where all his furniture had gone. It had all been second-hand and there hadn’t been much of it. Still… “It seems pointless,” he replied. “I’m not staying here forever.”

“Well, not forever, but for the foreseeable future, right? I’m sure Alex won’t mind, even after Dracul is dealt with.”

“I can’t!” Jumping to his feet, Mackie paced away, fighting back more tears. “Being here and not being with Val is too hard. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Oh, Mackie.” Quinn joined him and wrapped him in a hug from behind. “I’m sorry. I know it must be horrible for you. He was such a dick, regardless of his motives.”

“I want to hate him,” Mackie confessed in a quiet voice. “I tell myself that I do, but it’s a lie. Much as I try, I can’t. I’m such a dope that I can’t put him aside and ignore him.”

“You love him.”

Mackie’s heart tripped. “No, I don’t. He’s hot, that’s all—and a great Dom. I miss that.”

“There are plenty of drool-worthy club members who like to play. It’s Val that you want. You can talk to me, you know. I won’t say anything to him.”

Patting his friends arm, Mackie pulled out of the hug and walked over to the window. His drapes where open, exposing the sheer white curtain underneath. He parted it and peered down. It was a nice-enough view. People scurried down the sidewalk, bundled against the growing chill. Most people would be thrilled to have what he did. Then again, most people didn’t know what it was like to have and lose someone like Val.

“I do want him, which is pathetic and pointless. He doesn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s not true. He does. Anyone can see that.”

“Well, I can make him hard, if that’s what you mean.” Twirling around, he swept his hand in a display of his body. “Come on… Who doesn’t want a piece of this?” He batted his eyes at his friend, falling back on his old habits of making light of everyone and everything.

Quinn snorted. “Other than me and Alex? No one can resist you, Mackie. I think Val’s scared of you.”

“Huh! Val’s not afraid of anything.”

“He is of getting hurt. I know that much.” Quinn dropped his gaze to the floor. “Alex told me something a few days ago when he was in his post-blood-drinking fog. Something happened with Val involving a human that devastated him. That’s what scares him, I think—getting too close to another boy.”

The news caused an embarrassing spurt of jealousy to course though Mackie. Who was this boy who’d what? Captured Val’s heart? He wasn’t sure the guy had one. A huge cock, yes, an endless libido, sure, and a keen aim when inflicting punishment, naturally, but, Mackie had only seen two emotions from him—indifference and anger. At least, that’s all Val had let him see. The idea that a hidden softer side existed was intriguing.

Mackie tapped his fingers on his thigh. “You think that’s why he hasn’t bothered to apologize for dumping me so hard and try to win me back, now that I know his secret?”

Quinn shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, but it makes sense. Alex had the same problem. I’m lucky he got over it, otherwise I’d be as miserable as you are. These guys can be awfully stubborn and surprisingly vulnerable. The only way to know for sure how Val feels is for you to stop allowing him to dictate the terms of your relationship.”

Mackie’s heart lightened at the suggestion. “You mean I go after him? It’s risky,” he observed, remembering how quickly things had gone south on him in the gym. “He’s no pushover, although I already know I can make his dick take notice. I just have to bring the rest of him around to the idea that we should be together.”

Quinn grinned broadly. “Yeah, that’s a plan.” His face fell. “Although, you’re right about Val’s being a tough nut to crack. You might end up being more heartbroken than you are now.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible. I feel trapped and hopeless. I really don’t have anything to lose.”

 

* * * *

 

“Go around the side and head him off at the end of the alley.” Trey shouted the order at Karl, then poured on the speed.

He closed the gap between himself and his quarry and reached out to snag the asshole’s hoodie. Closing his fingers around it, he tugged to bring the guy down. The slippery bastard wiggled out of the jacket instead and dashed forward.

“Sullivan, you snake, hold it right there!”

Words were useless. The small-time drug dealer was not going to listen. Trey had to stop using his voice and start using his legs. He pumped harder and caught a break when Karl loomed at the end of the alley. The sight of him gave Sullivan’s momentum just enough pause that Trey was able to catch up.

This time, he grabbed arms, not clothing, and swung Sullivan up against the brick wall on one side. There was a quick struggle that ended with Trey’s arm pressed against the back of the man’s neck.

“Knock it the fuck off, Sully. We only want to have a chat. You keep resisting and it’s going to earn you an arrest.”

“You suck, Duncan.”

Trey leaned on the man. “That’s not helping your cause.”

There was a wheezy cough. “Okay. I’ll talk so long as you stop mashing my face into the wall.”

Cautiously, Trey loosened the pressure and stepped back to give the guy room to turn around. Karl came loping up and stood to one side, ready to snatch Sullivan if he tried to dodge Trey. The dealer faced them slowly, experience no doubt telling him not to make any quick moves that could be wrongly interpreted. He breathed heavily and was sweating, despite the chill of the day.

Trey gave him a tight smile. “Been a while, Sully.”

“I was out of town, visiting relatives down south.” When Trey gave him a dubious look, the man added, “Hey, they’ve got Irish there. Haven’t you ever read Gone with the Wind?”

“Sure. It seems odd, though, that you’d be away from your home turf for so long. You missed Murphy’s funeral. Why didn’t you come back for it? Didn’t you know he was dead?”

Sully sniffed and ran his hand across the end of his nose. “I heard. I was tied up, that’s all.”

“That’s not what we heard. Is it, Karl?”

“Nope. Willy Flanagan said you and his cousin were on the outs when you left.” It was the only remotely useful information the bar owner had given them.

“That pussy don’t know nothin’,” Sully sneered.

Shoving his hands in his pocket, Trey took a relaxed stance. Sullivan seemed in a talkative enough mood. “He knew enough to tell us you were back in town.”

“I had to see my ma, didn’t I? She had the flu real bad. The sisters at her nursing home called to tell me to come back.”

“We’re sorry to hear that. Is she doing better?” This small-time dealer had always been better coaxed than threatened.

Sully smiled. “Yeah, she is. Tough old bird will probably outlast us all.”

“She certainly outlasted Murphy.”

“She never liked him. Even when we was boys, she told me to stay away from Brian. Said he’d come to a bad end, and, boy, was she right about that.”

Karl leaned in. “Is it scaring you straight, Sully?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, it is.”

“Seriously, Sully?” Trey asked.

The man thumbed out his crucifix from under his shirt and kissed the cross. “I swear on the little baby Jesus that I’m done with the drugs. It ain’t like the old days. You knew the sources and the dealers because they were all from your own neighborhood. They might have been stone-cold killers, but at least you knew where you stood.”

Trey shared a glance with Karl. “What’s changed?”

Sully’s eyes shifted left and right. He clamped his lips shut as if trying to keep in words that wanted to come out.

Trey sighed. “Come on, Sully. I can still haul you in on charges of resisting arrest, assaulting an officer…”

“I never touched you.”

Trey took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed his arm. “I don’t know. I’m feeling a bit sore.”

“Yup,” Karl chimed in. “Looked to me like you put up quite a struggle, Sully.”

“You guys suck.”

“So you’ve said. Come on now. What was Murphy into and why did you leave town?”

“Because I didn’t want any part of this new ‘opportunity’ Murphy had going.” He put the word in air quotes and made a face like he’d smelled something bad. “It stunk to high heaven. I ain’t surprised Brian got his throat slit. I knew the guys he was dealing with were bad news.”

“Where did they come from?” Trey pressed.

“Hell if I know. They were foreign.”

“Why do you say that?” And why are the hairs on the back of my neck standing up?

“They talked funny. You know…had accents and such.”

“What kind of accent, Sully?” Trey could feel his blood pressure rising and his patience ebbing.

The man shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. Sort of Irish. Welsh maybe, except there was something else mixed in there. Funny and foreign, that’s all I can tell you. They scared the shit out of me, too. I didn’t want to play, no matter how much dough they were throwing around. Those big bastards couldn’t be trusted. They had dead eyes, you know? Like killing you would be nothing more than squashing a bug.”

Okay, now the alarm bells were ringing in Trey’s ears. Karl stiffened slightly. Trey didn’t dare look at his partner. “Describe them.”

Sully’s shoulders went up and down. “Wicked big. Huge. Pale motherfuckers with long, black hair that was shaved on the sides.”

Karl coughed. Trey ignored him, although sweat began to trickle down the back of his neck. “So, what was their deal with Murphy?”

Once more, Sullivan’s lips thinned and his gaze darted around. “I don’t fancy getting my own throat slit.”

“We’ll keep you out of it.”

“Sure you will, Duncan. That makes me feel so much better.”

“Sully, tell us here or at the station. Your choice. If we bring you in, everyone will hear about it.”

“Have I told you how much you suck?” He huffed. “Okay, so these two mofos contact Murphy about dealing some new drug. They approached him at Brigid’s one night when Murphy and I were hanging around, having a few rounds.

“They buttered him up, saying how they heard he was the guy in Boston to see about getting this new stuff out.” Sully rolled his eyes. “Brian was like a brother to me, but he was no big-time dealer. He lapped up what they were laying down with a spoon.”

“Did they say what this new drug was?” Karl interjected.

“They called it ‘vamp’, which is a stupid name, but stupid people do drugs, so.…”

“Fuck.” Trey muttered the word under his breath, although, in the alley, it was like a shout. “What’s its selling point?”

“Better than E and crack and anything else you can get out there, according to Frick and Frack. Users will feel invisible, masters of the universe, a high that lasts for hours and makes them want to come back for more.”

“Is it a tablet or a powder? Do you snort it or inject it?”

“No idea. Didn’t want to know. I told Murphy those guys were bogus. Whatever shit they were into, I didn’t want any part of it.” Turning his head, he spit onto the ground. “Damn foreigners muscling into our territory with questionable goods.”

“But Murphy was hooked.”

“They paid him five Bennies just for listening. Of course he was hooked. They gave him an address and said if he came there the following week, they’d give him samples as freebies for his best customers. That was to get them hooked on the junk then start peddling it. You know the drill.”

Trey rubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah, we do. Did you go with Murphy when he met them again?”

“Nah. We had words the second they left. I told him they couldn’t be trusted and dealing with them would piss off our current suppliers. Either way, I figured it was the kind of thing that would get a person dead. He said it might be the chance of a lifetime to score big.

“I took off the next day in case things blew up in his face right away.” He grimaced and looked away. “I heard about Murphy and the guy who took the swan-dive off the balcony at Copley. I put two and two together, ’cause that math wasn’t hard. If it hadn’t been for Ma needing me, I’d have stayed away longer.”

“Was the dead man a customer of Murphy’s?” Even as he asked the question, Trey knew the answer.

“Yeah. I recognized him as one of the regulars. Some guy who washed out of MIT and spent his days panhandling and getting high. Not exactly the crème de la crème, but I guess as good a test case as any. Maybe that means he started dealing this shit across the river.” He shrugged. “I’m guessing here. I don’t know what went wrong with Murphy and the suppliers, either, but as much as I loved him like a brother, Murphy was an idiot. He must have done something to piss them off.”

“Maybe it was one of his old suppliers making a point with him about loyalty,” Karl ventured.

“Nah, I don’t think so. More like they would have used him to maybe muscle in on the new action. Bet they’re staying far away from this shit now, though. This kind of spotlight ain’t good for business.”

It is if chaos is your goal. Trey hated the thought, except it was obvious that the aliens were involved. Sully’s description had driven that point home. “Okay, one more question.”

“Sure thing, because this little chat isn’t making me nervous or anything.”

“Who besides you would Murphy have trusted with this new venture?”

“That I can’t tell you. Brian knew I wouldn’t rat him out to the other suppliers. There was no one else I know of he trusted like that.”

“Okay,” Trey said again, already trying to figure out how he was going to steer Karl away from the Stelalux clan. “Thanks, Sully. If you hear anything else about these foreign suppliers, contact me.”

“Not on your life, Duncan. It’s a fucking shame what happened to Brian. I’m going to miss the son of a bitch, but I’m not sticking around to find out if I’m on someone’s shit list.”

Trey considered taking the guy in after all, but that would only endanger his life and not help Trey’s investigation anyway. Stepping back, he jerked his head. “Get lost, Sully.”

“My thoughts exactly.” With that parting shot, the man took off at a brisk pace.

Two seconds later, Karl had planted himself in front of Trey. “Those guys he described sound familiar. We should head over to Lux. Damn,” he added. “I was hoping the Stelalux family was on the up-and-up after all. I don’t like owing my life to mobsters.”

“We don’t know that they are,” Trey was quick to point out. “They may or may not be related to these new suppliers. We can’t go by a physical description. You know we can’t. That’s profiling.”

Karl furrowed his brows. “Yeah, but sometimes what looks like a duck and quacks like a duck is actually a motherfucking duck.”

Trey took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He really wasn’t cut out for all the subterfuge. “Okay, so maybe they are involved. If so, I don’t want to tip our hand too soon. Let’s see if we can tug some other lines before we question the Stelalux boys. If Sully thinks maybe Cambridge is where this is centered, we start there. I know someone in vice over there. We can see what he’s heard.”

Karl scratched his head. “You think that’s the right way to play this?”

“Absolutely.” Jesus, Trey hated treating his partner like the enemy. He was also going to have to bring this new information to his alien allies just as soon as he managed to lose Karl for the day.

Sully was right—at that moment, Trey did suck.