Chapter Seven

 

 

 

Wales, Dracul’s Castle

 

Dracul wiped the remnants of the fucking from his dick, grimacing in disgust at the retching sounds behind him. “Must he keep doing that?”

“It’s a good sign, sir. Not only does it indicate he has a viable pregnancy, but the extreme nausea may mean he’s carrying twins again.” The doctor sound quite pleased, and as well he should. Dracul had been losing patience with the man before he’d announced that Dafydd was finally breeding.

“Well, I’m not into vomit sex, so make him stop.” Dracul dragged on his favorite silk dressing gown and sauntered over to the fireplace. A knock on his door caught his attention as he poured a glass of wine. “Enter.”

Petru glanced in the direction of the bed, wrinkled his nose in disgust before approaching Dracul. “Sir.” He bowed and stood waiting for permission to speak.

Dracul took a sip of his wine before settling into his favorite chair. “You have good news for me, I trust.”

“Yes, sir. Your sons have succeeded in introducing the drug to the human population. There have been two public incidents. The second one caused significant damage to property and involved the local police killing a user. It’s all over the Internet, as well as international news.” The man paused. “I was wrong in my advice earlier. Your sons have done you proud, sir.”

Dracul flicked his gaze at his lieutenant. “Don’t try to flatter me, Petru. You’re terrible at it, plus I value your honesty more than your loyalty. When you cautioned me against giving in to Cadoc and using the boys for this next round of war, I did consider it. Your instincts are often right. They might still be. We both know this little exercise is more a trial balloon for them. It’s almost impossible to fuck this up unless they get stupid.” He took another sip and shrugged. “A possibility I don’t discount, either, given the weak genes they carry of necessity.” He gestured in the direction of the bed where the physician was giving Dafydd something to hopefully soothe the little puke’s stomach.

“I will continue to monitor the situation carefully, sir.”

“No. Not necessary. They will either succeed or fail on their own. You’re to give them no help or guidance. I have another job for you.”

“Anything, sir.”

Good old Petru, such a suck-up. And not a surprise, given that he’d been a lowly technician onboard ship with little chance of advancement beyond his status in the hive. Being stranded had opened up new possibilities for the man. Dracul had opened them up, that is.

“As you can see, my seed incubator is not in the best of shape. Fucking him has become a bore. I need someone new—a nice, fresh hole to fuck and a different source of blood. Find me one. As young and unattached as possible, if you please. I don’t want any legal alarm bells going off if it can be avoided.”

He drained his glass and refilled it. “Humans have become so tiresome with their modern morality. It used to be easy to pick a boy who was barely ripe. A few coins and a father would hand one over without a qualm.” He sighed. No use lamenting what he couldn’t have. Whining was not his style.

“I will find someone suitable at once, sir.”

“Yes, yes.” Dracul waved the man away. The sound of Dafydd vomiting again made him grimace. “Oh, do shut up!”

The Welsh boy’s eyes showed through his curtain of hair. His hatred was visible. Dracul smiled back. He was going to miss the boy’s spirit, but it was time to start in on someone new. Once Dafydd gave birth, Dracul would make a feast of his sweet body.

He would drain it of every last drop of blood.

 

* * * *

 

They could hear the patient hollering before the elevator doors opened. Trey stepped onto the hospital floor with Karl at his side. Bronner and Diaz were a short way ahead of them. The four were now officially working the case together because of the information Sullivan and the Cambridge police had given them about vamp. The Newbury Street rampage had put everyone on edge and a lot of weight was crashing down from the top. The problem was now officially global Internet fodder and that kind of publicity wasn’t good for the city. Either of them.

They’d finished with the autopsy, although nothing new had come of it any more than it had for the jumper, except that Almadeo now accepted that the red pupil issue was drug related. The latest two victims hadn’t gone splat on the ground from a high fall, so it was no longer thought to be trauma-induced. That wasn’t necessarily good news for Duncan. He vacillated hourly between hoping someone would notice that aliens walked among them and dreading it.

“Jesus, what’s up with the guy?” This from Karl.

Bronner glanced over her shoulder. “The doctors say he’s been like that since waking up. It’s not good. They’ve had to strap him down.”

The young cop on the door looked like she was really reconsidering her career choice. She straightened at their approach then jerked when a loud howl came out of the room. “Sorry, ma’ams, sirs. It’s been like that for hours.”

“It’s okay, officer,” Diaz said. “Take fifteen. We’re here for that long at least.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

“Oh, any more sign of that boy?”

Trey hid his wince. A report of a redheaded boy trying to see the patient had come in hours before. There was a BOLO out on him for questioning but no luck so far. And, there wouldn’t be any, because Mackie was safely tucked into the club for the duration, no doubt. It had taken some fast talking to convince Karl that redheaded males were a dime a dozen in Boston and that there was no way Mackie would be slumming it with a druggie. His partner was getting suspicious, though, no doubt about it. It was only a matter of time before Karl wised up to the double life Trey was leading. He was too good a cop not to. There was nothing to be done about it, however, so he turned his attention back to what was playing out in front of him.

“No, ma’am,” the officer said before she took off.

“Too bad,” Bronner observed. “We could use a break on this one.”

Trey scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know. Unless the kid was freaking out, he probably wasn’t taking whatever the hell this is. He probably doesn’t know anything useful.”

“We only need the name of the dealer,” Bronner pointed out. “The kid might know that much.”

Before Trey could think of a suitable follow-up to get them off Mackie’s scent, a tired-looking doctor came out of the patient’s room. His warm brown eyes were bloodshot and bleary, testament to how he must have been on the end of a long shift.

He pulled up short at the sight of them. “Oh, hello.”

Diaz held up her badge. “Sorry to disturb you, Dr….”

The man ran a hand down his face and blinked a few times. “Paz. Ricardo Paz. I’m the chief resident assigned to this case.”

Diaz introduced them all. “We’re working this case from different angles and were hoping to interview the patient.” Before the last word was out of her mouth, another howl erupted from the room.

Dr. Paz winced. “I don’t think that’s likely. He may be awake, but as you can hear, he’s hardly lucid and still very violent. Not only have we had to restrain him, we’ve also taken the risk of giving him a sedative while not knowing what’s in his system. It hasn’t made any difference, and we’ve maxed the dosage. We don’t yet dare try anything else.”

Trey shoved his hands in his pockets and let the women take the lead. It was still more their case than his. Besides, he was already compromised and didn’t trust himself to ask the right questions. It was mostly routine, anyway. No one really expected to learn anything from this visit, not under the current circumstances. Then something that the doe-eyed doctor said caught his attention.

“I’m wondering if toxicology would produce useful information if we drew blood differently.” The man’s fatigue dropped away as he became more animated. “I think it’s possible that the chemical composition of the drug is altered the moment it leaves the body. It might be better if we suspend it in an inert solution and observe it in a hermetic environment.”

Fuck. Dr. Paz was proving to be smarter than the average medical bear. Trey shook off his own tiredness and racked his brains to come up with a persuasive argument against such a tack. Yeah, like he had anything useful to say to a doctor about bloodwork.

In the next instant, it didn’t matter. A shriek, followed by a loud crash, caught everyone’s attention. They rushed en masse into the hospital room in time to see the patient miraculously out of bed. His restraints lay in tatters and blood streaked down his arms where he’d torn tubes out of his skin. He was using the IV pole to smash his window.

“What the hell!” Paz rushed forward before Bronner or Diaz could stop him. The patient turned wild-and-red eyes on the man before punching him hard enough to send the doctor flying backward.

Paz landed against the women, knocking them down like a couple of split ten-pins. It would have been funny if not for the fact that Diaz cracked her head on the wall and the doctor flattened Bronner with his body onto the floor. Ever the gentleman, Karl reached to help the women first. The fact that he would have had to step over them to reach the patient was another factor.

Trey took a different route. He went over the bed, careful to stay out of swinging range of the pole. “Sir, please calm down.” He felt like an idiot trying to reason with the man.

The man reared back and beat against the window again. This time, it cracked, the fissures running in all directions. Trey lunged for him but ended up ducking before the pole could smash against his head. By the time he came back up for another try, the patient had used his fists to break the glass completely, the same way he and his friend had done to storefronts.

It defied belief that he had that kind of strength, except Trey knew the truth. Some variation of alien blood surged through his body, giving him an inhuman amount of power. Jumping up on the sill, the drugged-out man turned his frightening red eyes in Trey’s direction.

“I am God!” he yelled before jumping.

“Son of a bitch!” Karl leaped forward and peered down, catching his jacket on the jagged glass. He tore it while freeing himself. Vicious curses spewed out of him, even while he tried to look out of the window.

There was little point in the effort. They were on the fifth floor. Absent some miracle, the guy was dead. Karl’s weary look when he turned said it all. The doctor was helping Bronner and Diaz, who appeared stunned.

“Let’s get these women somewhere for examination,” Trey offered, “then go down and start in on that mess.”

“Fuck that,” Diaz barked. “I’m going, too.” She stumbled into Paz’s waiting arms. “Well, maybe I could use a quick rest first. Jesus Christ, this is going to be a shitload of paperwork, and our case is going down the toilet.”

There was nothing to say to that obvious statement. There would be a possible ass-reaming for sure, because logic meant nothing with a high-profile case. That fact that he was secretly pleased that the doctor’s theory about the blood couldn’t be put to the test caused him no small amount of guilt. It didn’t change the fact, however, that at that moment, the patient’s alien blood was disintegrating. The only live version was in the hands of an alien doctor back at Club Lux. He could only hope he’d truly hitched his wagon to the good guys.

 

* * * *

 

The gay gentlemen’s club that fronted for a marooned group of aliens had a soothing quality to it that Trey couldn’t deny. As he entered the quiet, plush place, the noise of the outside faded away. His fatigue, on the other hand, did not. He dragged his feet down the entryway to the main floor. It was early enough that no one was around. While the club was open to members twenty-four-seven, most men were either finishing up at work or heading home for maybe dinner or a change of clothing at that hour. Despite it being Sunday, rich guys worked all the time. That’s what made them rich. He expected the place would be hopping in a few hours. He intended to be long gone and horizontal in his own apartment by then.

“Hey there, Sergeant Hottie.”

Trey jerked back at the sudden appearance of the half-alien boy. “Christ, kid, don’t startle me like that.”

The boy, Demi, got closer, an impish smile on his face. “I’m sorry. Did I scare you? Do I make you nervous?”

The expression on the boy’s face said that he thought he did and delighted in the knowledge. Trey wanted to deny it but didn’t have the acting skills, certainly not when he was dead on his feet, so he didn’t try.

“Beat it, kid. I’m here to see your uncle…or cousin. Whatever the hell he is.” He tried to step around the boy.

Demi blocked him with quick movement that was almost too fast for a human to pull off. He frowned. “You’re always working when you come here. Why not stay and play a while?” He pursed his lips in what he likely thought was a seductive pose.

Which it was, Goddamn it! “I’m busy. Your kind are making me so. I have no time to play, and besides,” he added with a stern look, “if I did, it wouldn’t be with you.”

Demi ducked his head and clasped his hands behind him. “Oh, now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings. I’m only trying to be friendly.”

Trey snorted. “Sure you are. You must give your fathers fits,” he added with a shake of his head.

Demi batted his eyelashes. “Why not? It’s boring being cooped up in here all the time.”

“It’s safer for you.”

“I know,” he whined, “but I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself.” He peeked up at Trey from under his lashes. “I bet I’d be safe if you took me out.”

Trey barked out a laugh. “Yeah, right.” The kid was about Trey’s height, wiry-thin, yet probably stronger than Trey could ever be. “Run along now, Demi. The grown-ups have business to attend to.”

The deliberate slight had the right effect. Demi’s expression went from sultry to mulish. He tossed back his long, black hair. “I’m not as young as you think I am.”

“Maybe.” Trey looked him up and down. “You’re too young, regardless, from where I’m standing.”

With a huff and a glare, the boy twirled gracefully and strutted his cute ass away.

“God help me,” he muttered.

“You know it’s not Harry you have to worry about.”

“Holy fuck!” Once more in the span of less than five minutes, Trey jumped out of his own skin.

Val gave him a self-satisfied look. “It’s Lucien,” he continued, as if he and Trey had been having a conversation. “He might appear mild-mannered, but he’d gut you like a fish if he could read your thoughts right now.”

Trey grimaced and stood straighter. “What thoughts? The only one I have is how fucking screwed up this whole vamp thing is. The second user jumped to his death right in front of my fucking eyes.”

Val’s face went blank. “Indeed? That is both good and bad news, perhaps.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly and I hate that. I’m a cop, for fuck’s sake. It’s my job to solve crimes, not cover them up.”

“You must be very tired, Sergeant.” Val was changing his mood and the conversation’s direction rapidly.

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re using the word ‘fuck’ a lot.”

“Huh. As it happens, you’re right. I’ve been up for almost two full days. I’d be home right now if not for the need to fill you all in on the latest and check on the progress with the blood analysis.”

Taking Trey’s elbow in a surprisingly supportive move, Val said, “Come. I’ll bring you down to Harry’s lab. We forget sometimes how vulnerable you humans are. You need a lot of sleep.”

Trey was too surprised to do anything other than allow himself to be led. “You don’t?”

“No, although we have no problem mimicking the human sleep pattern if required. Are you hungry?”

Now that he mentioned it… Trey’s stomach growled. “I could eat.”

Val released him and took his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll text Emil to bring you something in the lab.”

“No need for him to go to any trouble.” His stomach gave a loud protest.

Val flashed his teeth. “I assure you nothing would please him more than feeding you. A hungry person being in his orbit makes him very cranky, actually. You’ll be doing us all a favor by allowing him to prepare you a meal.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

They passed through the main room and beyond the elevator. Val opened a door in the back hallway that Trey had never noticed before or used. A darkly lit, narrow staircase went straight down. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed Val.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Val called over his shoulder. “You are one of us or you wouldn’t be shown this part of the building at all.”

A strong antiseptic smell greeted them before they reached the bottom. There was a door on either side of the small vestibule area. Each was closed and locked with a key pad. Val punched in numbers for the left one, opened the door and gestured for Trey to enter first. It was like walking onto a movie set for a mad scientist’s laboratory. The room contained an array of tables strewn with strange equipment and bubbling glass vessels. Despite that ‘double, double, toil and trouble’ atmosphere, there were no noxious odors. The benefit of a great ventilation system, no doubt.

Harry, whom Trey accepted as being some kind of elder statesman despite his unlined skin and jet-black hair, was bent over a microscope. On the table around him sat beakers of weirdly colored liquid. Some of it also bubbled away while others sat eerily still. He hesitated, unsure of how safe any of it was for a human.

Val pressed his palm lightly against Trey’s back. “It’s all right. I wouldn’t have brought you here if we weren’t sure you aren’t in any danger, either.”

Difficult as it was, Trey hardened his resolve to trust these creatures. He approached the bench with more certainty. Before he reached it, the door opened again. Alex walked in with Quinn in tow. No surprise there. Trey had to wonder if the man let the boy out of his sight. Then again, with a gorgeous boy like that for a lover, who would want to? The redheaded brat, Mackie, brought up the rear.

Val folded his arms and glared at the boy. “What are you doing here?”

Mackie tossed his head dismissively at the man. “Alex invited Quinn and Quinn invited me.” He mimicked the man’s stance, his expression daring him to disagree with what the boss had allowed.

Oh man, is that brat leading the bouncer around by the dick. The thought gave Trey his first positive feeling for the day.

With a scoff, Val turned his attention to Harry. “So, what’s the story?”

The older man’s shoulders slumped with obvious fatigue. “I’ve isolated the compound, and it’s some synthetization of our blood. When I mix it with human cells, courtesy of Kitty, it starts altering them on a molecular level. It appears to be trying to turn them into our species at a rapid pace that their cells can’t handle. It simply, therefore, serves to destroy them.”

“That squares with what the coroner said,” Trey interjected.

Harry turned his tired gaze at him. “Yes. It’s no wonder those poor men who’ve ingested it go on a rampage. They’re being swamped with a surge of energy and strength they can’t handle, while, at the same time, their brains are undergoing a metamorphosis that is literally turning them to mush. In short, they are going insane by human standards, while their other organs are being damaged beyond repair.”

The man shook his head. “If they hadn’t died the way they did, they would have succumbed to the process in short order. From what I’ve seen, this drug is lethal with one dose.”

The room fell silent with that news. Trey was trying not to freak out at the idea of a deadly drug being peddled in his city. Maybe if word got out that no amount of the drug could be safely ingested, people would shun it. That kind of strategy would involve the higher-ups. He would have to take it to his lieutenant, who would kick it up the chain to the mayor’s office and even the governor. How could he convey the information, though, without revealing its source? Damn, this secret society stuff was a pisser.

“Was that the intent?” Mackie posed the question in a quiet voice, his pretty face pinched with worry. He glanced around the room. “I mean, were they trying to change humans or kill them?”

Before anyone could reply, Val crossed the room and pulled the boy into an embrace. “Easy, boy. Deep breaths. This is why I don’t want you here. You don’t need this horrible information inside your head.”

Trey could actually see the transformation. Mackie went from tense to relaxed in the span of a breath. He leaned against the bouncer’s larger, harder frame in a pose of utter trust. “I can handle it.”

The pushback was met by the very human response of Val raising his eyes to the heavens and shaking his head. But he held onto the boy and said nothing more.

“It’s a fair question,” Trey chimed in.

“The point with Dracul,” Alex replied, “is chaos, however it can be caused. I doubt very much that he intended to create an army of converted humans. We can assume that he used many unwilling humans for experimentation before he released this drug. He knew what it would do.”

“And this is all some kind of game he plays with you to amuse himself?” Trey’s exhausted brain was working up a head of steam. He hated the idea that Boston was ground zero in this alien war simply because Alex and his crew were here.

“Not a game, Sergeant. Dracul takes all of this very seriously. His goal has always been to subjugate this world to make it his own. He went from being a drone in the hive to someone who had the ability to be not just a queen, but the queen. Always before, though, we were chasing him as he sowed discourse—as a whisper in someone’s ear, planted evidence of disloyalty, a well-timed assassination. It was all too easy for him to get humans fighting each other. We did our best to clean up his messes and stop them from becoming worse.”

“He’s bringing the fight to us now more directly,” Val added. “Although the course of his plan is as yet unclear, other than making our adopted city a combat zone.”

Trey couldn’t withhold his temper. “So leave! Give my city a break.”

Once more, silence reigned. Trey immediately regretted his outburst, except not entirely. If all it took to make this horror show stop was the decampment of the Stelalux posse, then why not?

“Where would you have us go, Sergeant?” Alex asked the question while wrapping his arms around his lover’s waist and pressing the boy’s back to his front. “Isolation was our first effort, but that became harder to do as the human population grew. There is no place in the world now where we wouldn’t put people at risk. Even if we tried, Dracul would go back to his old playbook and wreak enough havoc somewhere else where we’d have to come out again to stop him. I’m sorry. I failed your kind centuries ago. I should have seen Dracul’s plans earlier and stopped him when I had him within reach.”

Quinn turned within the embrace and lay his head on the man’s chest. “You didn’t fail us. You protect us.” He glared over his shoulder at Trey.

Okay, now he felt like a douche. He rubbed the heel of his palms against his tired eyes. “Sorry. I’m running on too little sleep. I know you’re the good guys.”

“You need food.” Emil had entered and he held in his hand a tray from which wonderful smells wafted. “Come on and sit here.”

Trey followed the man to a small, empty table and sat on the chair Emil had dragged over to it. He lifted off the dome on the tray to reveal a plate with a six-ounce filet mignon, scalloped potatoes and buttered spinach. Trey’s mouth watered at the sight and his stomach rumbled once more.

Emil grinned ear-to-ear as he took two bottles of water out of his pockets and put them on the table. “Sounds like I got to you just in time. There’s lots of iron and protein there. Eat it all. And you need water. No more coffee tonight.”

Picking up the fork and knife, Trey muttered, “Yes, Mom.”

The jacked chef folded his arms and nodded. “Damned straight. Someone has to be, and where we come from, moms rule. Nothing better than your mother.”

Trey was already in a coma of bliss from the first bite of his perfectly cooked medium-rare beef. He raised his hand in a gesture of peace and nodded. “No argument here,” he said around his mouthful of food.

“Now that the pressing issue of Duncan’s food deficit has been resolved,” Val drawled, “what are we going to do about this new scheme of Dracul’s?”

Still consumed by his much-needed meal, Trey gestured generally with his fork. “Yeah, what he said.” Despite not liking spinach, he scooped up some because Emil was watching like—well, like a mom. He discovered he actually did like the stuff. It was only a matter of having it cooked correctly.

Sorry, Ma. He offered up the silent apology for dissing her cooking and wondered if he could discreetly get the recipe from the alien chef. Then he refocused on the discussion.

“We need a two-pronged approach,” Alex was saying. “First, find and neutralize the distribution source. You take point on that, Val—with the good sergeant’s help, of course.” When Trey reluctantly nodded in agreement, the man continued. “Second, concoct some form of countering agent to neutralize the usefulness of the drug. We’ll be counting on you, Harry, for that.”

“Of course.”

“Do you think you can?” Val asked.

The older man gave the bouncer a look that would have cut glass. “Indeed. I can only imagine who created this filthy thing to begin with. My biochemical skills are far superior to that insignificant drone’s.”

Trey was fascinated by the aliens’ culture, despite his resentment over their existence on his planet. The way they referred to themselves mimicked bees, which was strange, considering they were so primate-like in their appearance. He couldn’t really picture these huge men swarming around a hive while some queen popped out kids. The biology was confounding.

“What guy is that?” he asked, because why not do so? The more he learned, the better use he might be to protect his own people.

Harry made a sound like a violin being sawed in half. The screech caused Trey and the human boys to wince. “Jesus!”

“I beg your pardon,” Harry said. “He calls himself Teo. He was a young botanist on our ship and easily swayed by Dracul’s mutinous ideas. Just another one of us who got above his station, little shit.” The invective was all the more amusing coming from the dignified man.

“He’s no match for your talents, Harry,” Alex agreed. “So, we have a plan. Let us hope that no more humans ingest that poison before we can find an antidote.”

“About that.” Trey wiped his mouth, surprised to see that he’d already inhaled most of his meal. “I’m going to have to go to my superiors about this. We already have a strategy meeting set for tomorrow morning involving my partner, Karl, and the two vice cops on the case. Hear me out,” he added, when the aliens’ mouths opened in automatic dissent. “Obviously, I’m not going to bring you guys up, mostly because I don’t want to be put in McLean Hospital for observation. But, we have to try to get word out for people to stay away from this crap. We’ve got the name—vamp—from a human intelligence source of mine. No one believes it’s actually made from vampire blood, either. So, I’m not giving up any secrets there. I’ve gotten pretty far using standard police work.

“We also have the coroner’s report about what it does to a person’s body, plus this too-smart-for-your-sake doctor who has already thought of taking blood samples in suspension for testing. I’m going to suggest that maybe the drug is fatal at any dose, like I’m some freaking chemistry savant all of a sudden. It’s a logical inference and one others of my kind may have already made. I have no choice here, guys. Like it or not, my people are going to institute a third prong, using a public safety warning. Of that you can be sure.”

Finished having his say, he started back on his food. Damn, he was already regretting that the chef hadn’t brought dessert.

Emil leaned over. “I have a piece of Boston cream pie boxed in the refrigerator with your name on it.”

Trey grinned. “Will you marry me?”

Emil laughed, the sound startling in the hushed environment of the lab. “As if I’m your type.”

A brief image popped into Trey’s head of a lithe boy with dark hair and cat-like eyes who might be older than he looked. It still freaked him out, so he shoved it away and winked at Emil. “For food this good, you could be.”

“Gentlemen,” Alex barked. “If the food flirtation is over…? We understand that you have to do your duty, Sergeant, and I don’t have any objection to the idea. It will hopefully prove helpful. In the meantime, we all know the plan. Let’s get to it.”

Trey hurriedly shoveled the remains of his meal into his mouth. Val came up with Mackie attached to him like an appendage. The bouncer’s expression implied he felt conflicted about the contact. There was no question, however, that the boy was right where he wanted to be.

“You’re obviously dead on your feet, Duncan. I propose you contact me tomorrow whenever you can break free from your partner. I’m going to see how Logan has done, tugging at her sources. We can compare notes back here,” Val said.

Finished, Trey stood and stretched the growing kinks in his body. “Fair enough. Let’s hope this ends quickly.”

The alien’s face showed a surprising tiredness. “Quick is a relative term, Duncan. I can only say I hope it ends.”