Chapter Eleven

“It’s almost dawn.” Ric knew he was stating the obvious as he stood propped against the railing staring in the direction the raiding party had gone.

“Yeah, it’s making me squirrely, too,” Duncan admitted.

The cop had been patrolling the deck all night, armed and vigilant, despite having help from the rest of them. Only Demi, however, had carried a gun. Everyone else had declined to do so, including Ric. He’d discovered back in Scotland that despite years of playing video games, actually holding a weapon with the expectation that he might have to use it against a living creature was not in his comfort zone.

Apparently he wasn’t alone in that sentiment in this particular company. Even Lucien, who’d spent over a century in the aliens’ orbit, had refused. Dafydd had fled with Idris back to his stateroom with Ric’s blessing. If something nasty went down, he wanted those two as far away from the action as possible.

There was only a hint of pink hanging low in the far horizon across the water, and yet he expected that within the hour, people in the Putnam Cove harbor would begin to stir. The last thing anyone needed to see was a boatload of mostly naked giants looking like bandoleros skipping along the waves. That would be an awkward conversation if the Marine Patrol spotted and stopped them.

“Come on,” Duncan muttered into the air in general. “The raid on Dracul’s castle took less time than this. Where the fuck are you?”

Ric didn’t say anything to the obviously rhetorical question, but the cop’s nerves only served to increase his anxiety.

Demi came racing up. “They’re coming.”

“They are?” Leaning over the railing, Ric strained both his eyesight and his hearing and detected nothing. Of course, he didn’t have Demi’s alien physiology. It took a couple more minutes before the sound of an outboard motor reached his ears. Not long thereafter, the small boat carrying their comrades came into view.

Without saying a word, the three of them headed toward the stern to help the others get back on board and secure the tender. He let Duncan and Demi get ahead of him, knowing that he wasn’t much use compared to the skill, experience and plain muscle mass of most everyone else. He stayed on the top level while Duncan and Demi climbed down to the platform. The relatively small space would be crowded enough, and even those two weren’t necessary, given that Malcolm jumped the gap between the two vessels with ease, lines in hand, securing them with a flash of movement that made Ric dizzy.

He stood gawking at the proceedings like a tourist, feeling superfluous, while determined to be available should he be needed. That seemed unlikely. He didn’t have much to offer. With Harry around, even his skills as a doctor were redundant if someone had been hurt, which didn’t appear to be the case anyway. Gathering intel had been his one big contribution to this venture and that had come to an end. Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to lounge about if there was work to be done. It was just not in his nature to be idle.

He stood gripping the rails, watching as the aliens boarded just in time to benefit from the remaining cover the night afforded them. The gloom couldn’t hide the fact, however, that while five men had left, six were returning. He blinked rapidly to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the light or his tired eyes seeing double. But no, there was definitely a manly form wrapped up in a tarp and slung awkwardly over Val’s shoulders. Ric’s mind worked at making sense of what he was seeing. He knew what happened to the aliens when they died, so either this was a human ally that they’d chosen not to kill or—

“Who the hell is that?” Duncan demanded as he grabbed a bag from the dinghy.

It was Malcolm who answered, curtly. “Petru. Where’s Brenin?” He practically jumped up the stairs and sped past Ric.

“In the saloon, I think,” Ric answered, “with Quinn and Jase, resting,” he added to Malcolm’s retreating back.

Emil came next. “He wants to break the news to his boy himself and make sure he doesn’t have to see the fucker while we secure him.”

Ric eyed the limp, wrapped form that Val carried with ease now that he had more room. “I don’t think anyone can survive in that tarp. Can the guy even breathe with that plastic around him?”

“Who the fuck cares?” Val growled. He took off for the stairs leading below deck with Harry trailing behind him.

Alex came next and flashed Ric a smile. “It’s a bit of a strange tale.”

Duncan, with Demi in tow, joined them. “What the hell took you so long? I was beginning to worry.”

“Very sorry, Sergeant. The takedown of Petru and his one cohort went quickly, but destroying the cache of weapons they’d stored in the cave system took longer. We couldn’t simply rig an explosion without risking bringing the cliff down and calling attention to it all. We ended up smashing thousands of guns by hand.”

Alex flexed his fingers. “Tedious work, to be sure.”

“I’ll bet,” Duncan said, gathering Demi to his side. “That doesn’t explain why we have your sworn enemy tucked up here.”

Alex sighed. “Yes, well, he surrendered instead of trying to kill us immediately like the other one did. And he insists that Dracul is alive. He’s offered to switch sides, as it were, for personal reasons.”

Duncan let out a string of curses, but Ric was focusing on one thing.

“Dracul lives? Seriously? That has to be a lie. This guy’s messing with you, surely, to save his own life.”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

“Dafydd.” Ric felt as if he’d been punched in the gut as understanding dawned. What would this mean to the man he loved? “If Dracul’s still out there, he’ll come after Dafydd.”

“Perhaps,” Alex allowed. He put his hand lightly on Ric’s shoulder. “We won’t let him get anywhere near him or Idris. I promise you.”

“No, not good enough.” Ric’s mind raced with fear. “I have to go warn him, like Malcolm is with Brenin. Then I have to protect him. I don’t want him out of my sight until this thing is settled—for real this time.”

He knew he was babbling and his insistence on taking care of Dafydd was almost laughable, given his acknowledged lack of skill in the area of combat. He couldn’t help it, however. The instinct to guard Dafydd and the baby from harm overrode all rational thought.

Alex peered down at him intently. “I understand your feelings on this matter, Doctor, and I honor your claim over Dafydd and his child. So long as Dafydd is in agreement, you are more than welcome to move into the club. Although,” he added with a frown, “quarters are getting a bit tight. It’s time to expand into the adjacent building that I purchased a few months ago.”

“Whatever,” Ric replied. He didn’t care if he had to sleep in a shoebox. So long as Dafydd was safe, nothing else mattered. “Excuse me.”

Not bothering to wait for a response, he took off for the stateroom he by default shared with Dafydd. When he entered it, he was relieved to find both of his boys asleep. Idris was in his usual tortured bottom-up position. Dafydd lay on his side with his back to the wall and a fist tucked under his chin. A bit of the last of the moonlight shown in through the porthole, casting a glow over his beautiful, pale face. At rest, he looked young, essentially how he must have looked when Dracul had found him long ago. The alien blood had arrested his development to a large extent. It was a heartbreaking sight, and Ric had to remind himself that centuries had passed in Dafydd’s life. He’d ceased being an adolescent through experience and a maturity of his mind that wasn’t reflected in his outward appearance.

He had only a moment to gawk, however, before Dafydd’s eyes flew open. The obvious evidence of how alert Dafydd had been forced to become broke Ric’s heart all over again. He really didn’t want to have to give the news he had, yet there was no waiting on it.

Dafydd propped himself up on one elbow. “What is it, then? Bad news,” he concluded when Ric didn’t answer immediately. “Who did we lose?” Dafydd’s tone was so bleak, so resigned to misery.

“No one,” Ric quickly assured him. He went to the bed and sat gingerly on the side. He tried to be careful not to crowd the boy. “The mission was successful and one more of Dracul’s goons has been eliminated.”

How odd that how quickly I’ve changed the way I think and speak. His vocabulary had become martial instead of medical. Someone had died that night, been killed. That it was an alien and an enemy shouldn’t matter. He should feel worse about it, as his training had molded him. Every life was worth saving if at all possible. That was the way an ED doctor should think. It was what he would have said only a few months ago. Everything was different now. He was. That unnamed asshole in the cave had gotten what he deserved and could no longer threaten his beloved.

Dafydd pushed up to a sitting position, his legs crossed under the covers. “It’s not the whole of it, though. I can see there’s more in your expression.”

Ric shifted his gaze away before forcing himself to look Dafydd in the eye. “The other guy, Petru, surrendered. He’s being held onboard.”

Dafydd scoffed. “Go on and pull the other one. Petru would never give up.”

Ric angled his body in order to face the boy more directly. “He had a good reason, assuming he isn’t lying.”

“He lies like another would breathe.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Ric was desperate to latch on to anything other than the idea that Dracul lived.

Dafydd studied his face intently. “You don’t believe that. Tell me, then. What bad news do you bring?”

Ric took a deep breath and spilled it all out. “He says Dracul is alive and he wants to join forces with Alex to bring him down.”

 

Dafydd didn’t say anything for so many long seconds that he could see it worried Ric. There was no hope for it, because he truly couldn’t manage a single rational thought or response to the news.

The monster lives.

He wasn’t surprised. Not really. Part of him had always been skeptical of the tale that he’d been killed. Without seeing it himself, he couldn’t trust the assertion. Yes, Petru lied, but Dafydd didn’t think he was this time.

“It’s because of Andri,” he said, to himself as much as Ric.

“What is? And who?”

“Petru’s defection is because when Dracul banished me to the tower room for Idris’ birth, he took Petru’s slut from him as a replacement for my hole.”

Ric winced. “Please, baby, don’t talk about yourself or any unfortunate slave in that castle like that.”

He shrugged. “It was the way of things for hundreds of years. I can’t see them differently yet. Maybe not ever.”

Ric reached out and clasped Dafydd’s knee over the covers. Although his first instinct at the unexpected movement was to flinch, he made himself stay still. Ric’s touch was nice, not menacing. Dafydd didn’t want to make him feel bad. Besides, the warmth from Ric’s hand crept through the blanket and into Dafydd’s naked skin. It was comforting.

“You will. I know it. You’ll soon come to truly believe your worth. And it sounds like this Andri is someone in need of rescuing if Dracul is alive and holding the boy. Petru’s motives notwithstanding, if he can lead us to the right place, it will be worth the risk of keeping him around.”

“If Andri is with Dracul, I don’t think he’ll thank you for your help. In fact, he should be treated as a source of danger.”

“I’m sure Alex and the others will know how to handle it.” Ric squeezed lightly. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you all this. I know how frightening it must be.”

“I suppose.” Dafydd searched to identify his feelings and realized he was merely numb. Until, that is, he thought of his son. He grabbed at Ric’s hand. “Idris! We can’t let him get the boy.”

Ric grasped both his hands. “We won’t. I promise you that he won’t get anywhere near the baby…or you.”

They sat quietly holding on to each other while Dafydd struggled to get his burgeoning panic under control. He was acutely aware of every place where his body touched Ric’s. It was the warmth of the human body, so unlike the coldness of the aliens, that caught his attention the most. It didn’t make him want to pull away. He didn’t have to fight the instinct to do so.

Finally, Ric said, “I want to protect you, Dafydd. I know I’m nothing like the others in that regard, but please let me do what I can.”

“I don’t know what you’re asking me, mun. I have no power over anything, including my own life right now.”

“That’s just the thing, Dafydd. You do. I’m asking your permission.”

“For what, exactly?” This type of discussion confused him. What did Ric want him to say? “We already agreed you’d come visit me at the club the way you’ve been.”

Ric’s tongue flicked over his lower lip. Dafydd couldn’t help tracking the movement. The man really was strikingly handsome, with full pink lips and straight, white teeth. His brown skin was an interesting contrast to Dafydd’s pasty coloring.

Ric stared intently at him with his deep, dark eyes. “I want to move in with you—at least spend every night and my days off there—in the club, I mean, not in your bed.” He dropped his gaze. “Although we’re sharing one now because of the…you know, I don’t want you to think that I’m making any assumptions about us.”

Oh, yes, the good doctor was a noble man. He wanted Dafydd. Centuries of catering to a male creature’s wants had made Dafydd an excellent reader on such matters. That kiss the previous night and Ric’s own words left no doubt, either. He wasn’t going to force the issue. He would be patient, waiting for Dafydd to approve each new step their relationship took. Dafydd had the feeling he’d wait until his dying breath for Dafydd to give permission for him to do anything more than what they were doing right at the moment.

In the face of everything that was transpiring, it seemed suddenly ridiculous to keep the man at arms’ length. What if Dracul was alive and came for him and Idris? There was certainly no chance now to forge a new, independent life, not when danger lurked outside of the relative safety of the club and the orbit of Dracul’s enemies.

Dafydd needed the protection of a strong man. It was almost a relief to have the issue thrust upon him. He really wasn’t suited to making his own decisions, perhaps never had been. His only problem was getting Ric to put aside his noble intentions and take charge. He was scared to death of failing.

“What if I don’t mind your doing so?” He shrugged, trying not to show the tumultuous thoughts whirling inside him. “It makes sense, after all. I’m not able to take care of myself, let alone Idris. This world is too much for me. I don’t know how to live in it. I can’t keep on like I am, raising Idris in that club, always the poor relative surviving on charity.”

Ric’s grip tightened again. “That’s not how the others see it.”

“I do, though. And I want Idris to have something more like a normal family life—a proper home, not a room above a place where men play sexual games.”

“Alex told me that he bought the building next door. He’s going to expand the living quarters.”

“Truly? That’s good, then.” He blew out a breath and took a moment to collect his thoughts before giving Ric the kind of demure look he knew men liked. “Idris and I need caring for, regardless. You could do that for us, couldn’t you?”

“Of course.” Ric’s tone was fierce. “Nothing would please me more. But—”

“I can make it work,” Dafydd hurried to assure him. “I know how to please a man, and I know things would be different with you—gentler, pleasurable even, if that kiss was anything to go by.”

“Oh, Dafydd.” His name passed Ric’s lips on something like a sigh. “You don’t have to use your body as currency. I’ll gladly take care of you and Idris even if our relationship is nothing more than what it is right now. I meant it when I said it last night. I don’t expect you to simply get over centuries of abuse. I also really don’t want you to have to fall back into the habits of your previous life with that fucker Dracul. I understand it’s all you know, but we can establish a new and better one between us.”

Dafydd lifted his gaze. Ric was so totally earnest in what he said, yet Dafydd knew that it couldn’t last. No man wanted the burden of a family without the benefit of someone warming his bed. Before his enslavement, he’d heard men talking when they didn’t know he was around about how being able to sink into a warm pussy at the end of a hard day was what made life worth living. Dafydd might have changed over the centuries, but other men hadn’t. “I believe you. Truly. Except you’re a man with all the needs that go with it. Eventually, you’ll want more.”

“And eventually you may be able to give me more.”

Dafydd shook his head. “I don’t want that possibility, not promise, hanging between us. It will be like a weight bearing down on us both. What kind of life would that be, and how would it affect Idris? You’d come to resent me.”

“Never.”

Dafydd couldn’t help smiling. “You’re stubbornly sure, aren’t you?”

“When I have to be, yes. You’re worth the wait, Dafydd.”

“And what if I don’t want that, the waiting, I mean? I get to say when I want us to do more than lie next to each other, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, then,” Dafydd sighed, his mind rapidly forming a plan.

He was being honest in his desire to set a future for himself and Idris that involved a man taking care of them both. There was no need to look for that solution when Ric was there, a decent man who wanted to give Dafydd everything. And Dafydd really liked him. After hundreds of years of enduring the monster’s attention, it would be easy enough to give Ric what he needed and put up a good front about it into the bargain. Ric didn’t ever have to know how Dafydd truly felt about their physical relationship.

Besides, there was a small measure of hope that he would come to like it. Anything was possible, and if there was any chance of such a thing, Ric being the man he was increased the odds to the greatest degree. It was hard to imagine there was any other man out there who would serve Dafydd’s needs better. Plus, Ric knew all their secrets, so really, there was only one logical answer to Dafydd’s problems.

It was merely a matter of convincing Ric of it.

Wiggling a little closer to the man, he said, “I don’t want a lot of fuss over what my life’s been like. I’m not much different than I was as a lad back in the seventeenth century, truth be told. All this talking about feelings and trauma and whatnot is beyond me. I just want to do what makes me happy and being with you does that.”

“Does it, really, Dafydd? I don’t frighten you?”

Dafydd snorted, happy to be completely honest in this regard. “Not in the least, mun. You make me feel safe but oddly restless at the same time.” This was also the truth. “Do you think you could…kiss me again?”

Although his experience with the act was limited, he’d seen others do it often enough and knew what it typically led to. That was why, after all, the crones in the village used to harangue young couples they saw doing it. While he felt a little bad at playing the man, he was also excited at the idea. That made whatever he did all right, didn’t it?

After tugging his hands free, he scooted back toward the wall. “This time, maybe you could take off your clothes and we can do it lying down.”

Ric stared back at him skeptically. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m happy to kiss you, of course, but you know it’s going to arouse me.”

Dafydd rolled his eyes. “Of course. You think a stiff cock bothers me?”

“Yes,” came the frank reply.

“Okay, then, keep your underclothes on, like I have.”

Ric cocked his head. “Aren’t you wearing my sleep pants?”

Dafydd’s cheeks heated. It embarrassed him that he’d given in to the strange impulse, although it was working to his advantage now, perhaps. “It was too hot during the night.”

“Ah.” He stood, grimacing for a few seconds. “All right. If this is what you want.”

“It is.”

Dafydd slid down onto his back and at the same time pushed the covers away in order to make it easier for Ric to get under them. He made himself watch as the man peeled away his tight-fitting clothing. It was no surprise that he dressed that way. His body was something to be proud of. It wasn’t bulky like the aliens. It was leaner, yet well-toned. It wasn’t unlike his own, when he thought about it.

Years of confinement hadn’t made him soft, undoubtedly another by-product of the alien blood. Running around after Idris gave him some exercise these days. He supposed he would have to stop taking fitness for granted and start learning how to use that fancy gym stuff at the club. A man such as Ric would want his partner to stay attractive, surely. Beauty was the only thing he had to offer.

He was so inside his head that he missed Ric climbing in beside him until he suddenly felt that warmth again. The automatic stiffening from anyone getting close gave way to both a sense of peace and anticipation. As Ric wiggled under the sheet, Dafydd rolled onto his side and dared to reach out. Ric stilled instantly when Dafydd slid his palm across the back of the man’s hand, then over to his hip until finally resting on his slightly ridged abdomen. The muscles rippled under his fingertips and Ric’s breath hitched. The outline of the man’s hard cock was easy to see. It pressed against the thin material encasing it. All Dafydd would have to do was lower his hand a few inches… But no, that would be pushing it. Besides, Idris was in the room. Best to take matters slowly, as agreed.

“How does this work, then? The kissing while lying down.”

Ric turned to face him, dislodging Dafydd’s hand, but also giving him the chance to lightly clasp the man’s hip. Dafydd’s little finger brushed up against the swell of the man’s tight ass. Ric’s breath wafted over to him, smelling faintly of coffee. That didn’t bother Dafydd. It was pleasant, actually, not the fetid odor of blood that Dracul had assaulted him with. And once again, it was the warmth of it that caught and held Dafydd’s attention. That one critical difference between the two men, in particular, was what would make this new beginning easier.

Without saying a word, Ric leaned slowly toward him with his eyes open. He gave Dafydd every chance to pull back or tell him to stop. He didn’t do either. Closing his eyes, he met the man halfway. Like before, their lips barely touched at first. Everything was soft and lazy, Ric skimming his mouth across his. Then the contact became firmer and more constant to the point where their connection didn’t break. Dafydd curled his fingers to tighten his grip on Ric’s hip. A moment later, Ric’s tongue joined in. He flicked it against Dafydd’s lips a few times before using the tip like a silky battering ram. Dafydd took the hint and opened for it to slide in.

Here was a different kind of experience altogether. Ric plundered his mouth in the sweetest possible way, making a languid sweep to every corner before teasing Dafydd’s tongue into a sensuous dance. Dafydd had come across knowledge of this way of kissing at some point, but he’d always dismissed it as some vulgar form of dominance—a thing men did because shoving their dicks in one hole at a time wasn’t enough. Oh, how wrong he’d been. This held its own form of pleasure. He felt it all the way down to his cock. It stirred with a weak effort to harden. At the same time, he used his hold on Ric to try to tug him closer.

Ric resisted, holding his body away from Dafydd’s, then he broke the kiss. Dafydd made a noise that was disturbingly like a whimper. That led to Ric giving him a quick peck before pulling away.

“I think that’s as much as we should do right now.” The man’s voice was breathless and Dafydd felt a certain pride an knowing he’d done that to him. “It’s been a long night, and Idris is only a few feet away.”

“He’s always going to be that, isn’t he?” Now Dafydd sounded petulant. Have you lost your mind, mun? He’s pleased with what little you gave him. Shut up, already!

“Onboard, yes. Back home, we’ll eventually have our own room, if you decide you still want me to move in with you.”

“I won’t change my mind about that.”

Ric graced him with another quick kiss. “Good. For now, though, let’s go to sleep—or, at least I need some.” He yawned loudly, making Dafydd feel guilty. Ric had stayed up all night guarding them. He deserved some rest.

Dafydd reluctantly let go and rolled onto his back. “Of course. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do the same but I’ll be quiet, regardless of whether I succeed. Idris will be awake in a couple of hours, though. I’ll get him out of here as quick as I can.”

Ric yawned again, flopped on his back, and said, “I know, and it’s fine. Don’t worry about disturbing me. I think at this point, I’ll sleep through anything. Oh.” He flipped to face Dafydd once more. “If we don’t leave Putnam’s Cove first thing, how about we go out for lunch?”

Dafydd frowned “Go out? To eat at a restaurant, you mean?”

“Yes. A date, Dafydd. I guess you’ve never been on one.” There was sadness in his tone.

“No.” Dafydd tried to sound indifferent. “We don’t have to go through all of that nonsense.”

“I want to.” Now Ric’s voice held a hint of steel. “You deserve to be wooed.”

Dafydd scoffed. “I’m not some silly girl.”

Ric blew out a breath. “Dating is for everyone, Dafydd, including me. Please, I want to go out.”

Feeling flummoxed at this unexpected turn of events, he said, “Idris—”

“Will join us.”

“That’s not very romantic, if that’s what you’re going for, mun.”

Ric traced one finger down Dafydd’s cheek. “Let me be the judge of that. You’re a package deal, you and Idris. I understand that. It will be fun for the three of us. Please.”

Dafydd huffed, surprisingly pleased by the man’s words yet unable to admit it. “All right, then, if it makes you happy.”

“Thank you.” One more quick kiss and Ric settled down. Within minutes, his breath became deep and even.

Dafydd lay beside him, his mind in turmoil because he was not quite sure whose plan was actually being implemented—his or Ric’s.