Is Liam Van Zandt living in The Twilight Zone? It sure looks that
way. The victims in the murders he’s investigating seem to have
been crushed by a cursed statue.
In the middle of his investigation Liam is fighting his attraction
to the mysterious Dr. Bartek Szala, a police consultant and
amateur folklorist. With everything coming to a head and his
Captain breathing down his neck, Liam has been denying his
attraction to Bartek. But when they are thrust into a
supernatural world of witches, vampires and werewolves they
have to join forces or they won’t survive.
Will Liam and Bartek come out alive or will they succumb to
the danger that surrounds the Legend of Black Aggie?
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are
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or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Beneath the 13th Moon
Copyright © 2013 H.L. Holston & Eleanor Bruce
ISBN: 978-1-77111-742-5
Cover art by Carmen Waters
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Beneath the 13th Moon
Werewolves of Baltimore 2
By
H.L. Holston & Eleanor Bruce
Dedication
Eleanor and Holly would like to thank their friends and family for
helping them in this endeavor. And ‘The Boss’ who brought them
together.
Chapter One
A light rain fell as Liam Van Zandt made his way through fog-
shrouded Druid Ridge Cemetery. The incessant rain had made
the mid-morning temperature drop at least ten degrees and
Liam felt the chill seeping through his corduroy jacket all the
way to his bones as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
December had roared into Baltimore with a fury, signaling the
end of a very mild autumn.
An exasperated female voice drifted across the crime scene.
Liam could see his partner, Erin Morgan, talking to the medical
examiner for Baltimore County. Well, more like yelling than
talking, really. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but
her flailing arms and defiant stance told him all he needed to
know.
To say that Erin didn’t get along with Peter Moore was an
understatement. The County’s senior medical examiner was
well past retirement age and rather old school. He didn’t like
the idea of female police officers and Erin didn’t like the idea of
his existence. At the moment, she was stabbing in the air in the
vicinity of his chest with her index finger.
Liam picked up his pace, determined to intervene before
things got really out of hand. “Erin!” he said, waving to get her
attention. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
She turned toward him and her hazel eyes flashed at his
obvious lie. Then her eyes softened, her lips tilted up in a wide
grin. “You should see your hair,” she said. “Haven’t you ever
heard of an umbrella?”
“Haven’t you?” Her long red hair was plastered to her head.
“You look like a drowned rat.”
With one hand, Erin pushed her damp hair out of her face,
while flipping him off with the other. “Do you know what that
senile old bastard said to me?”
“There’s no telling,” he said, taking her arm and steering her
toward the area where a body was covered over by a white
sheet.
“He asked me why I wasn’t at home cooking breakfast for my
husband!”
“The nerve of that guy!” he said in mock outrage. “Everybody
knows you can’t cook.”
She laughed and punched him on the arm. “You’re such a
jerk.”
“Come on and tell me what’s going on here.”
Erin nodded at one of the officers standing by and he lifted
the sheet to reveal the body. The victim was young, way too
young, Liam thought. College age. He was clean-cut, well-
dressed and judging by the Vacheron Constantin watch he was
wearing didn’t need to break into cemeteries late at night to
grave rob. His ex, Justin, an investment banker owned one.
Liam thought it ridiculous to spend twenty-five thousand
dollars on a watch…and told his lover so. It had only been one
of the reasons Liam had dumped Justin.
“Liam?” Erin queried.
Quickly, he pushed personal thoughts from his mind and
focused on his job. “Yeah, sorry, got sidetracked.”
Liam knelt on the muddy ground in front of the monument
bearing the name “Agnus” and topped with a statue of a
shrouded figure. Strange symbols were drawn on the base and
weren’t in any language Liam had ever seen.
“Anybody get pictures of these symbols?” Liam asked.
“Yes, the photographer. The caretaker of the cemetery says
they’re new.” Erin replied.
“What do we have on the vic?”
“Name’s Brad Johnson. New York driver’s license says he’s
twenty years old and college ID states he attends Loyola
University Maryland.”
“How’d he die?” Liam was genuinely curious. The guy didn’t
have a visible scratch on him.
“Dr. Sexist says he won’t have a conclusive report until he
gets him on his table. But there are no entrance or stab wounds,
which rules out a gun or knife. I didn’t see any ligature marks
or blunt force trauma to indicate strangulation or a blow to the
head. It’s strange. The body doesn’t have any marks on it…and
the kid’s too young to have a heart attack.” Erin sounded
perplexed.
“Not if he OD’ed,” Liam reminded her.
“Yeah, well I doubt he broke into the cemetery to do drugs,
especially on a cold night when he could have been back in his
warm dorm room getting wasted.”
Liam laughed at Erin’s stubborn expression. “College kids
have been known to do some weird shit. Not all of us had a 4.0
GPA throughout college and were president of the SGA, Miss
Goody Two Shoes.” He looked at her pointedly. “Some of us
liked to party in some different places.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “Oh God, are you going to tell that story
again? Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Liam. I don’t care that when you
were in a frat at College Park you got shit-faced and drove your
pledges out into the middle of nowhere in their underwear and
left them there with only pesos to get home. It was only funny
the first time you told it!”
Liam enjoyed the gentle sparring as much as Erin did. Erin
and he were very similar, both in their mid-thirties, went to
school in the Baltimore Metro area. And although Liam had
graduated from the police academy in Baltimore City, not the
county, they been on the force the same amount of time before
getting promoted into Homicide. They’d been partners for
nearly four years and their chemistry just worked. She was a
welcome change from his last partner who’d been a by-the-
book kind of cop who made his obvious distaste well known
when Liam revealed he was gay. Liam had been overjoyed
when Roger had retired and Erin made his new partner.
He looked at Erin and indicated the scene with his hand. “We
done here? It’s freezing.”
“Yeah,” Erin nodded. “The ME won’t have the autopsy done
until later today, early tomorrow at the latest. The tech guys got
what they needed just in case the vic’s death isn’t accidental. So,
we’re good.”
“Great. See you back at the station.” Liam turned to leave,
only to be stopped by Erin’s voice.
“Yo, Liam. What’s the rush? I thought we could grab a bite
before heading back. I’m starving.” She patted her six-month
pregnant belly to emphasize her point. “Burger Brothers opens
in about a half hour. I’m dying for a bacon cheeseburger.”
It was Liam’s turn to roll his eyes. This was Erin’s third baby
and the doctor’s had told her to lay off the greasy foods because
her blood pressure and cholesterol were through the roof, but
his partner craved red meat morning, noon and night.
“Erin,” Liam protested, “you know you can’t. How about a
nice yummy salad instead?”
Erin stared at Liam like he’d just asked her to eat cow shit.
“Come on, I’ll pay,” he cajoled and batted his eyes. When she
crossed her arms and eyed him down, Liam knew he had to
play his ace. “Don’t make me call Andrew.”
He walked off with the satisfied feeling of a man who had
won an argument with a woman who always had to have the
last word. That is until he realized she wasn’t walking beside
him.
“Dammit,” he muttered to himself and reluctantly turned
around to see Erin with her arms folded over her chest, her
characteristic stubbornness radiating in her stance. He took a
deep breath and steeled himself for the onslaught that he was
sure was coming.
“You need to ask yourself a question, Liam. Who are you
more afraid of, my husband or me?”
Throwing his hands up in surrender, he said, “Okay, okay,
you win. But no bacon, one patty only and you get a salad. No
fries.”
“No fries!”
“I’ll call your mother,” Liam threatened.
“Who needs fries?” Erin grinned mischievously, happy to
have won half the argument.
“Thought you’d say that.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Detective. Let’s go!” She brushed
past him on her way to her car. “Last one there is a rotten egg!”
she called merrily over her shoulder.
* * * *
Twenty-four hours later, Liam’s world had taken a turn for the
worse. The victim, Brad Johnson had turned out to be the son of
a very prominent New York doctor. Liam could see the writing
on the wall. This was going to be a high-profile case once his
name was released to the press. His parents were on a cruise
according to their housekeeper, and Erin been unable to reach
them as yet to tell them about their son’s death, so no
announcements had yet been made. Top that off with the ME’s
report on the cause of death and Liam knew this case had
crossed over from potential drunken frat boy death to what-the-
fuck realm.
According to Peter Moore, Brad had been crushed to death.
Yes, there had been a small amount of alcohol in his system, but
the initial tox screen ruled out any drugs. The kid hadn’t OD’ed.
The cause of death had been so far listed as ‘undetermined,’
rather than accidental or homicide. Moore said the injuries
looked like the victim had been in a car crash, but since his
automobile had been found in pristine condition near the
cemetery; Liam was utterly confused at how Mr. Johnson had
arrived at the cemetery and gotten squashed so hard that all his
internal organs had been pulverized.
Erin had gone to Loyola to interview Brad’s dorm mates to
see if they could shed any light on why the man had been at
Druid Ridge while Liam stayed at the station finishing up
paperwork on another case.
Picking up the phone on his desk, he started to call Erin, only
to be interrupted by another detective.
“Heard a kid died last night at Druid Ridge Cemetery, Van
Zandt.”
Looking up Liam eyed the older man. Steve Brooks had been
on the force since before Liam was born. He’d been threatening
to retire every year since Liam joined the Homicide squad, but
Liam would bet his last paycheck Steve wouldn’t leave until he
was wheeled out in a body bag. The guy lived and breathed
police work and had four failed marriages to show for it.
“Yeah, just got the ME’s report.”
“Let me guess: crushed to death?” Steve said.
Liam’s blue eyes widened with astonishment. He stared,
speechless, but nodded. How had Brooks known about that?
“Black Aggie strikes again.” Steve’s voice, though quiet, had
an ominous quality. “Good luck on closing that one,” and
walked away without a backward glance.
Liam gaped at the retreating figure. What the fuck had that
been about? And who was “Black Aggie?”
Ten minutes and a Google search later, Liam was ready to
bang his head - hard - into his desk. Statues that come to life
and crush people? Superstitious nonsense. Surely, Brooks
couldn’t be implying…but as much as he tried to deny the
feeling, deep down Liam knew the other detective had been
serious with his comments. Brooks believed Brad Johnson had
been killed by Black Aggie, and since the man was a highly
decorated and respected police officer, Liam had to give him
the benefit of the doubt.
His life had just entered the Twilight Zone.
Though Liam loathed calling him, the only person he knew
who knew about all that hocus pocus bullshit was his former
Baltimore City Police training officer, Logan Robinson. Probably
because all that hocus pocus bullshit was reality for the guy.
He was a werewolf, after all.
Chapter Two
A soft knock and a rattling of the door knob was the only signal
Bartek had that someone was invading his office. Muscles
tensed, his teeth lengthened automatically. A snarl perched on
his lips until he spied an attractive, dark haired man poke his
head through the opened door, glancing around nervously.
He swallowed the snarl and his sharp teeth slid back into
place. Of course, this was the police detective that Logan
Robinson had told him might be stopping by.
Rounding his desk, he gestured for the other man to enter.
“You must be Detective Van Zandt.”
A relieved smile appeared on the detective’s face and he
moved fully into the room. “Doctor Szala,” he said. “I was
afraid I might have the wrong place for a moment. Sorry for
barging in like this, there wasn’t anyone at the desk. I hope I’m
not interrupting anything.”
“Not at all. I have no clients this afternoon, so I gave my
secretary the afternoon off. You’ve saved me from some terribly
dull paperwork. I must find a way to thank you for that.” He
stuck out his hand. “Bartek Szala.”
The other man took the offered hand and shook it firmly.
“Liam Van Zandt,” he said. Bartek’s skin tingled at the brief
contact. Interesting.
Bartek motioned the detective to a chair in front of his desk
and then sat in the one next to him.
“So, how can I be of service to the police? Detective Robinson
was somewhat vague about the reason you wanted to see me.”
“That sounds like Logan. He likes to give out information
piecemeal.”
Bartek had to agree with that. It was one of Logan’s more
annoying traits. Damn the shifter’s shaggy ass. No wonder he
had sounded so evasive over the phone. Ever since he’d mated
with Dylan Reed, he’d been playing matchmaker for half of the
supernatural community. And now it appeared he’d turned his
sights on him. Logan had sent him a man who was exactly
Bartek’s type: dark, curly hair, bright blue eyes set in a
handsome face, and the slim build of a runner.
Surreptitiously, he sniffed the air, catching the scent of earth
and sweat. Underlying that was the faint musky odor of
arousal. Bartek shifted in his chair as Liam’s lust set off a
surprising jolt of his own arousal that settled in his groin. It was
something he had not felt in a very long time. Logan knew his
taste in men too well.
Bartek saw he was having an effect on Liam, who’d leaned
closer to him, eyes wide, breaths coming just a little faster than
normal. Bartek would need to be more careful. Some humans
were more susceptible to vampire pheromones. Forcing out
what he hoped was a convincing chuckle, he said, “It sounds as
if you know Logan well.”
Nodding his head, Liam said, “Real well. He was my training
officer when I was a rookie in Baltimore City. Taught me
everything I know about being a cop.”
From the way the other man’s heartbeat increased when
Bartek mentioned his former partner’s name, Bartek would
wager that Logan had taught Liam a great deal more than the
Miranda Warning and how to handcuff a suspect properly. The
randiness of werewolves was monumental until they found
their mates and bonded.
Logan’s current partner, Dylan, had turned out to be a
wonderful match for him. It was a bit unusual for two alphas to
mate, such things usually turned out quite badly, but Dylan and
Logan seemed to have worked things out between them. Dylan
slapped Logan down whenever Logan was being obnoxious and
the older man accepted it. It was vastly amusing to watch and
despite the usual animosity between vampires and werewolves,
Logan had turned to Bartek on occasion to consult on some
police cases which required a psychological profile. He
wouldn’t call Logan Robinson a friend as Bartek had very few of
them, but Logan was a man he could trust, even if he was a
werewolf.
“I assume your visit has to do with the murder last night in
Druid Ridge Cemetery. I understand a college student was
killed. Dreadful business.”
“Yes, the young man, whose name we are withholding until
his family in New York can be contacted, died violently at the
scene. The ME hasn’t seen anything like his injuries before
except in car crash victims, which is why my partner and I are
confused by the cause of death. Actually, I’m kind of
embarrassed to be here.”
Liam’s sheepish expression intrigued Bartek. “Oh, and why is
that?”
“One of the old-timers at the precinct insisted that a statue
killed him and it’s utterly ridiculous.” His voice held obvious
scorn for his colleague that had bought up the Black Aggie
curse. “I don’t believe in legends, Dr. Szala, but Logan told me
that you’re something of an amateur folklorist and the legends
of the Baltimore area is your specialty.”
“I see. And what do you know about Black Aggie?”
“Not much other than it’s a statue that was just recently
returned to Baltimore after being in Washington DC for nearly
four decades. Before that, the statue supposedly came to life and
killed some kids back in the 50s.”
Bartek sighed with exasperation. Despite being seemingly
intelligent, it seemed Liam was a bit narrow-minded. The
distain in his voice when he spoke of Black Aggie’s history was
all too apparent. This caused Bartek’s initial attraction to the
young police officer to drop a tad. Bartek had always preferred
a man who thought outside the box.
He knew it was a personal flaw because most humans failed
to see what was right in front of them: the supernatural was
real. Either they were skeptics and refused to see the truth right
in front of their eyes or believed all supernatural elements were
works of the “devil.” In Bartek’s five hundred years on Earth,
he’d discovered it was usually a combination of both. The dark
and light did exist but rarely was one side more powerful than
the other. Instead, they balanced each other.
When Logan had called him and asked him to give his
expertise on this case, he’d hoped Detective Van Zandt
wouldn’t fit into the skeptic or believer category as it was so
much easier to discuss the paranormal with open-minded
individuals.
Bartek’s coolly impersonal tone broke the stillness. “The
death in 1957 was proven to be accidental. Some local frat boys
consumed too much tequila, broke into the cemetery and left
their friend at Black Aggie’s feet as an initiation ritual.
Unfortunately for the young man, he threw up and choked on
his own vomit…and died.”
“So a drunken fraternity prank started the whole Black Aggie
curse?” Liam let out a long, audible breath.
“No, it actually began in the 1920s, the incident concerning
the frat boy only spread the tales.” Bartek crossed the room to
the sideboard and poured himself a glass of scotch. He gestured
with the bottle toward Liam in a silent invitation to join him.
The other man seemed hesitant to accept. “It’s after five,
Detective; surely you’re off duty by now. It’s a Talisker
Distiller’s Edition. I’ll think you’ll enjoy its boldness.”
Grinning, Liam nodded his head. “I guess I can’t say no to
that.”
Carrying the two glasses over to where the detective sat,
Bartek handed Liam a glass and resumed his seat.
He watched as Liam sniffed at the scotch and took a small sip.
A grin broke out over the man’s face. “Excellent!”
“Good, I’m glad you like it.” He set his own drink down on
the table and rubbed his hands together. “So, the tale of Black
Aggie.” Bartek grinned at his own melodramatic turn, settled
back into his chair and began.
“In 1905, a newspaper publisher and Civil War general named
Felix Agnus purchased a copy of a statue called ‘Grief’ for his
family plot in Druid Ridge Cemetery. The original statue was
commissioned as a memorial to Henry Adam’s late wife,
Marian and still stands in Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington.
The copy was unauthorized and the original artist’s widow was
incensed over it. She wanted Agnus to give up the statue, but
he refused.”
Bartek looked at Liam and saw the other man staring at his
mouth, obviously engrossed in his story, but also entranced by
his presence. Bartek inwardly preened, he was well aware that
his vampire aura drew most humans in, and for some reason
the thought of Liam Van Zandt being attracted to him filled
him with delight.
Leaning towards the police detective so their knees were
brushing, he could hear the other man’s heartbeat pick up.
Bartek continued, modifying his voice so his tone was lower…
rougher, more intimate. “Now, the General died in 1925 and
was buried at the foot of the statue. It was soon after that the
stories started and the statue was nicknamed Black Aggie. It
was said that Aggie’s eyes glow red at the stroke of midnight.
Spirits of the dead rose from their graves at night and gathered
around her. Anyone who looked in her eyes was blinded.
Pregnant women who crossed her shadow suffered
miscarriages.”
Bartek took a sip of his drink. “Of course, the local fraternities
began to use Aggie in their initiation rites.”
“Of course,” Liam echoed in a manner that indicated that he
had done his share of foolish things as a young man.
Bartek acknowledged him with a nod. “The ritual involves
the pledges spending the night in Aggie’s lap. During one such
night, Aggie came to life and crushed one unfortunate young
man to death…or so they say.”
Pausing in his tale, Bartek asked, “How did your victim die,
Detective?”
Liam fiddled with the glass in his hand before taking a large
swallow. “He was crushed to death.”
“Fascinating,” Bartek said, and it was. But even more
fascinating was Liam and not the poor crushed scholar. He
knew that Liam was well aware that Logan was a shifter. Logan
had come to him for a ‘session’ after the incident in which he’d
been forced to reveal himself during a fight, which caused Liam
to resign soon after and take a job with the Baltimore County
Police. If Bartek recalled, Liam’s reaction to Logan shifter side
had not been positive.
The session had involved drinking to excess, which had no
effect on Bartek, but had loosened Logan up tremendously. Of
course, it had taken many glasses of whiskey. Unbidden, a smile
creased his face. He had no idea why he liked the obnoxious
werewolf so much. Vampires and werewolves were no longer
enemies because of the treaty, but they tended to be at odds and
tried to avoid one another whenever possible.
Although the two detectives had eventually patched up their
friendship, it was obvious that Liam’s knowledge of the
supernatural didn’t extend past werewolves.
“Anyway, as you can imagine,” he said, picking up his story,
“thousands of people came to Druid Ridge to see the gravesite.
Graves were trampled, the statue was damaged and vandalized.
In the late 60s, the Agnus family donated Aggie to the
Smithsonian Institute and she sat in a courtyard at the Dolly
Madison building in Washington for several years. Apparently,
she behaved herself in Washington, but now that she’s home-”
“Now that she’s home, a college student is found crushed to
death at her feet,” Liam finished.
“It seems so.” Bartek agreed. He could see the curiosity in
Liam’s eyes, the interest in the legend, and his sexual awareness
of Bartek in every line of his posture. Perhaps his police
detective wasn’t the scared skeptic he’d originally believed him
to be. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Liam
Van Zandt was a stunning contradiction and Bartek decided
that the detective was a puzzle he wanted to solve. Damn
Logan for knowing all his quirks.
“Is this a well-known legend? I’ve lived in Baltimore for
years, and this is the first I’ve heard of it.” Liam said, a note of
desperation in his voice.
“It’s more familiar to the older residents of the city than the
younger. Remember, Aggie was away from home for over 40
years. Memories fade and more than one generation has grown
up since then.” Bartek stated.
“You talk about a statue as if it were alive.” Liam said.
“Maybe she is. How else could your victim end up crushed
and lying at her feet?”
Liam stood up and took a step back from his chair. “A person
who knows the legend could have killed him and dumped him
there. Maybe crushed him with some kind of machine.”
Bartek noted the distance Liam put between them. It seemed
he could only handle so much supernatural business before he
shut down. Seeing Logan turn into a wolf must have really
rattled the man. He wondered how the good detective would
feel about Bartek’s affliction.
In order to soothe the man, Bartek smiled broadly and said,
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“Did you want me to look at something?” Bartek gestured to
the manila folder Liam had in his hands.
Liam flustered, his cheeks going rosy, as he’d obviously
forgotten one of the reasons he’d come to Bartek’s office for
help. Bartek nearly grinned in response. Liam was attracted to
him. He’d have to see how far he could push this awareness.
“Yes, I brought pictures of some symbols that were carved on
the base of the statue. The groundskeeper at the cemetery said
they were new. They check for vandalism daily. Logan thought
perhaps you might know what they meant.”
Liam opened the folder and placed two pictures on the small
coffee table between the chairs.
If Bartek was prone to grand emotional outbursts, he might
have gasped, but years of medical training had rendered him
immune. They weren’t symbols but a language and in this case
a word. Moarte.
Translated from Romany to English: death.
The case grew more interesting. As Bartek pretended to study
the pictures, he glanced at Liam from under his lashes. His gaze
fell to the lush expanse of Liam’s neck. He could see the pulse
pounding through the other man’s skin and hear the sweet rush
of blood pumping through his veins. An air of command
exuded from the young police officer who captivated Bartek
like no other had since his dear Edward had been taken from
him. But such an attraction would be perilous as Liam was
afraid of the supernatural and Bartek was a vampire. He
couldn’t change that fact. It was hopeless to pursue it further.
“I’m sorry, Detective. I’m unfamiliar with this. Have you
checked with a linguist?”
Liam took a deep breath and blew it out. “No, not yet. Logan
suggested you first. I guess I’ll have to go over to the University
of Maryland and see if they can help me.” He sighed and
gathered up the pictures. “I was hoping you’d be able to tell me
and save me the trouble.”
The slight slump in the detective’s shoulders dulled his
youthful optimism and almost made Bartek change his mind
and tell Liam what the word meant. But he had to be strong. It
was better Liam and he not get involved, even in a professional
capacity. If the man couldn’t handle his former partner Logan
being a werewolf, he’d never accept Bartek was a vampire.
“My apologies that I couldn’t be of any more help. I could
check with a colleague-”
Liam shook his head. “No, no. I have to do it. Police
procedure and all. This is an open investigation.”
Bartek rose and slowly ushered Liam to his front door,
opening it. At the threshold, Liam turned and peered at him
intently. His whole being seemed to be filled with waiting and
Bartek knew exactly what the other man was thinking.
The good detective should never play poker.
Time to end this flirtation once and for all. “Good evening,
Detective Van Zandt.” He said with a firm, calm tone.
Liam looked disappointed, but said nothing. Bartek watched
Liam walk away with an innate grace. His eyes froze on his lean
form lingering for a moment. He shut the door before he could
yell out for Liam to come back.
Chapter Three
Four days later, Liam’s world had gone to shit. Erin was on
mandatory bed rest until the end of her pregnancy, so Liam was
out a partner. Her last doctor visit had not gone well her blood
pressure was dangerously high. While Liam was going to miss
her around the station, he was glad Erin and the baby were
going to be okay – that is if she stayed off her feet. Knowing
Erin, Andrew would have to chain her to their bed to keep her
immobile.
When Dr. Szala hadn’t able to translate the symbols left on
the base of Black Aggie’s statue, Liam had consulted with a
linguist at the University of Maryland College Park. The
symbols were actually a Romany word which meant death.
He’d sent the crime lab techs over to take toolmark samples to
determine what type of instrument had carved the word in the
stone. There’d been no answer from them yet.
It was just as well. Szala was a handsome man with light
brown hair shot through with silver, dark eyes and an
indeterminate, but very sexy European accent. The combination
was magnetic and Liam had felt an attraction almost instantly.
He’d thought for a moment that the doctor had felt it too. But
the man who had been congenial at first had turned cold by the
end of their conversation, all but throwing him out of his home.
It was strange, but then Szala was a psychiatrist, and weren’t
they always a little weird?
He shook his head to clear his thoughts of Doctor Szala and
got back to his case, which was getting stranger and stranger. A
kid had been killed in the same manner the legend stated and
the ME still couldn’t determine exactly how Brad died except
that it looked as if he’d been crushed from the inside. From
Erin’s interviews at Loyola they’d discovered that Brad was an
amateur ghost hunter. He’d told his roommate he was going to
break into the cemetery to film Black Aggie for a contest on the
Internet. Interesting, but not very helpful.
Without Erin to bounce ideas off of, he was already
frustrated. He wouldn’t get a temporary partner until Walker
Monroe came back from his annual vacation to visit his elderly
mother in Miami. That was two weeks away. Until then, Liam
was on his own. Walker was a great cop, but he wasn’t Erin.
From across the squad room Liam heard his name called. He
glanced up from his reports and saw his captain wave at him.
He pushed to his feet, then strode to into her office.
“Yeah, Captain?” Liam inquired, looking intently at Nikki
Manolis.
Nikki was in her early fifties and so tiny that she had barely
made the height requirements for the police department. But
despite her small stature, Captain Manolis was smart, hard-
working and had the respect of everyone on the squad. She’d
made captain faster than any other woman in the department,
and Liam knew he’d been lucky to get a spot on her squad. If a
few of the dimmer bulbs in the room tried to buck her authority
because she was a woman, they quickly learned why the
Captain had been nicknamed ‘The Tiny Terror’ when she was
still a patrol officer.
She gave him a curt nod of welcome. “Van Zandt, we’ve got
another body over at Druid Ridge Cemetery. Same MO as
before. I need you over there ASAP.”
Liam’s jaw dropped. “Another one?”
“Looks like it. Victim is male, early thirties, Caucasian.” She
paused. “Dr. Moore said there wasn’t a mark on him, but he’s
deader than my Aunt Pearl.”
“Crap,” he said. But despite the grim news, Liam stifled a
grin. The captain was normally all business but every now and
then, her Southern roots betrayed her.
“My thoughts exactly, Detective.” She narrowed her eyes at
him as if she could sense the laugh that was trying to get out.
“Now I know you’re down a partner, but we need to catch
whoever is doing this before someone else dies. The brass is
crawling up my ass on this one. Understood?”
Liam nodded. He was well aware of the saying, ‘Shit rolls
downhill.’
“Okay, report back to me when you have something.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He paused at the door, “And I’m sorry about
your Aunt Pearl.”
“Out, Van Zandt!”
He scooted out the door and shut it behind him, but not
before he heard her choked laughter. He smiled, happy to have
made his high-strung captain laugh.
* * * *
A strong sense of déjà vu weighed Liam down when he arrived
at the cemetery to find the scene much as it had been four days
earlier – a dead body, cops milling around and the ME shouting
orders.
“Detective Van Zandt, how good of you to join us,” said Peter
Moore. “And where is your lovely partner?” He glanced around
as if expecting Erin to magically appear behind Liam.
Ignoring the sarcastic tinge to the doctor’s voice, Liam said,
“She’s taking some time off. Who’s the vic?”
“Michael Ash. Worked for BG&E. Poor bastard.”
Liam wasn’t sure if he was expressing sympathy for the
deceased or feeling sorry for the guy because he had worked for
Baltimore Gas & Electric Company.
He walked to where the body lay. There was no blood, no
bruising or wounds on the body, and no signs of a struggle. Just
like Brad Johnson.
“What do you think, Pete?”
The doctor shook his head. “I won’t know for sure until I
open him up, but I imagine I’ll find him crushed on the inside
like the last one.”
Grimacing, Liam knelt down for a closer look at the body.
Michael Ash looked like he was asleep. Long straggly brown
hair covered a very plain face. There was nothing spectacular
about his clothing either, jeans and a brown coat. Just another
thirty-something guy who died too young.
“So, is she all right?” Pete’s question broke Liam’s train of
thought.
“Who?”
“Your partner.”
He’d always suspected that the old coot had a soft spot for
Erin, as much as he antagonized her.
“She’s going to be fine. Her doctor put her on bed rest.”
Pete chuckled. “That’s gotta be doing wonders for her
disposition. Bet she loved that.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“My daughter’s the same way, stubborn as a mule. Just like
her Momma.” When Pete smiled, Liam saw the genuine love
the doctor had for his family. He’d have to tell Erin, as his
partner was convinced Peter Moore was a cyborg disguised as a
medical examiner.
Liam stood upright. He walked the area surrounding the
victim. Video equipment and a few other electronic devices
were strewn about the scene. There were also signs that Michael
Ash hadn’t been the only person at the crime scene. He
gestured towards the footprints on the ground. “Did forensics
get pictures and imprints of these?”
Pete nodded, then pulled a small plastic evidence bag out of
his pocket. “I have something else for you. This was clutched in
the victim’s hand.” Inside the bag was a small medal of some
kind. The ME handed it to Liam.
Liam looked more closely at the object. It was a religious
medallion, but since Liam had been raised an atheist, he was
clueless about its significance. “Any idea who or what this is?”
He jiggled the bag.
“What am I, the Encyclopedia Britannica? I have my own
work to do.” His normal curmudgeonly tone was back in his
voice. “I suggest you talk to that young woman over there.” He
pointed toward a tall blonde uniformed officer who was
engaged in keeping back the crowd. “It seems Mr. Ash was a bit
of a local celebrity.”
Liam stared down at the victim again as Pete walked away.
He’d never seen Michael Ash before.
As he walked across the cemetery to where the officer stood,
he looked at the medal through the plastic bag. On the front
was a man – he assumed it was a saint – holding a cross in one
hand and a book in the other. He flipped it over to look at the
back side. It was adorned with a cross with the letters C, S, P,
and B and Latin writing on both arms of the cross and around
the edge of the medal. It was really quite beautiful – silver on
the front with a ring of steel blue and on the back: silver, blue
and red.
As he approached the officer, she turned around. God, she was
young.
Spying her name plate, he introduced himself. “Officer
Thompson, I’m Detective Van Zandt. Could I talk to you for a
moment?”
“Of course, sir.”
He drew her away from the crowd. “I understand that you
knew the victim?”
“Well, no, not really. I just know who he is.” The tips of her
ears turned pink and she shifted from foot to foot. Liam
motioned for her to continue.
“He’s on TV, sort of. He has – had – a show on the public
access channel. It’s called Ghost Chasers. He and his crew
investigate hauntings in the area.”
Hauntings?
But said, “Is that what all the equipment is for?”
She looked over his shoulder toward the body. “Sure, they’d
have cameras, EMF detectors, EVP recorders. That sort of
thing.”
Liam decided not to ask what EMF detectors or EVP recorders
were. He’d Google it later. Instead, he pulled the medal out of
his pocket and showed it to her. “Do you know what this is?”
She only needed a few seconds to identify it. “That’s a St.
Benedict’s medal. A lot of ghost hunters and paranormal
researchers carry them. They’re supposed to ward off evil.” She
gestured toward the body, which was being placed in a body
bag. “It doesn’t seem to work too well.”
He had to agree with her on that point. “You mentioned his
crew. Do you know their names?
“He called them Debbie and Ron, which may or may not be
their real names. Check the Baltimore Society for Paranormal
Research’s website. They have a list of researchers and hunters
in the area.”
“Thank you, Officer. I appreciate your help.” He handed her
his card. “If you think of anything else . . . .”
She tucked the card into her shirt pocket and smiled. “I’ll give
you a call.” She turned to go back to her post, but he stopped
her.
“One more thing. You don’t really believe this ghost stuff, do
you?”
Officer Thompson shrugged. “I like a good ghost story.
Doesn’t everybody?”
No,
he thought, not everybody.
When Liam returned to the station, the captain greeted him
with, “Did you find out anything useful?”
“Our victim, Michael Ash, was a ‘ghost hunter.’”
“A what?” she asked.
“A ghost hunter,” he repeated. “Apparently he was on TV
and everything. I met a fan of his,” he purposely didn’t mention
that the fan was a cop, “and got a little information and a
direction to look in.”
“Well get to it then. The brass is really gnawin’ on my ass.”
“Great. No pressure,” Liam mumbled as he crossed the office
to his desk, turned on the computer and struck gold. Not only
did the website of the Baltimore Society for Paranormal
Research have a list of hunters, it also had a list of television
shows, podcasts and web series devoted to ghost hunting. And
near the top was Ghost Chasers with a cast listing consisting of
Michael Ash, Debbie Turner and Ron Reynolds. He ran Debbie’s
name through the NCIC database and obtained her home
address listed on her driver’s license. He jotted it down and
headed out to Perry Hall.
He arrived at a duplex that had seen better days and walked
up the rickety steps to Apartment 201. A young woman with a
purple streak through her dark hair answered his knock. “Are
you Debbie Turner?” Liam asked.
Cocking her head to one side, she eyed him closely. “Why do
you want to know?”
Flipping open his badge, he said, “I’m Detective Van Zandt
with the Baltimore-”
Before he could get out another word, Debbie tried to slam
the door in his face. He stuck his foot in the jamb and grabbed
her arm.
“Ow, asshole, let me go!” she screamed.
He loosened his grip a little. “Debbie, I’m not here to arrest
you. You’re not in trouble. I just want to find out what
happened to Michael.” He let go, ready to grab her again if she
tried to run. “I want to bring his killer to justice, don’t you?”
Rubbing her arm, she snorted, but opened the door wider.
“Come on in.”
She led him to a small, dark room that was plastered with
odd photographs, maps and sticky notes. She gestured for him
to sit on the couch, while she flopped down in an overstuffed
chair and lit a cigarette.
Blowing out her first drag, she said, “You really think you’ll
be able to catch Michael’s killer?”
Liam wanted nothing more than to reassure this young
woman. “I’m not going to stop until I do.”
She tipped the ash from her cigarette into a dented metal
ashtray. Her laugh was as brittle as old bones. “Good luck with
that. It’s kind of hard to catch a ghost and make it stand trial.”
“You think a ghost killed him?”
“Or a curse.” She shrugged. “Or whatever Black Aggie is.”
Liam closed his eyes, trying hard to stop the headache that
was crawling inside his head looking for a place to settle. He
was so damned sick of hearing the words ‘Black Aggie.’ Why
couldn’t this just be a nice simple murder?
When he opened his eyes, Debbie eyes were on the ceiling,
her lips between her teeth. Her cigarette was forgotten, the ash
at the tip hanging on precariously.
“You should tip that,” he said.
She jumped, just a little. “What?” She looked down at her
cigarette. “Shit!” She stubbed it out and immediately lit a new
one. “I don’t usually smoke this much.”
“Can you tell me what happened to Michael?” He kept his
voice soft.
Staring straight ahead, she drew in a breath and began. “We
were in the cemetery filming our next episode. We thought we
were going to solve the mystery of Black Aggie and get a show
on SyFy.” Now she looked at Liam. “Honestly, I don’t really
know what happened. Everything was fine. Michael was
running the camera and suddenly, he just fell to the ground
screaming.”
Debbie doubled over in her chair, covering her face with her
hands. With a shaky voice, she said, “He just screamed and
screamed until he stopped.”
Her hand darted out to grab the cigarette pack on the table
next her. It was empty.
“Fuck!” She crumbled it and threw it across the room. Long
fingers tugged at her short hair. She bolted out of her chair “I
need a beer. Do you want a beer?”
“No, thanks. I’m on the clock.” He smiled, reassuringly. “I
just have a couple of more questions.”
“Give me a minute,” she said and walked toward the front of
the house.
While he waited for Debbie to come back, Liam looked at the
photographs tacked up on the wall. They were normal pictures
except each one had blobs of light and indeterminate shapes.
He supposed they represented ghosts, spirits or whatever.
He no longer knew what to make of any of this. Statues that
came to life and killed? Oh, and werewolves. What else was out
there? And, if he accepted the existence of werewolves – and
having seen Logan shift with his own eyes made it impossible
to deny – wouldn’t he have to accept these other phenomena
too?
Before he could come up with an answer, Debbie returned,
her face tear-streaked. She waved vaguely toward the front of
the house. “I just had to pull myself together.”
“I’m sorry I had to put you through this. What happened
after Michael died?”
“Ron and I ran. There was nothing we could do for Michael
and we didn’t want to end up dead ourselves.”
“Is Ron here? Can I talk to him?”
With a shake of her head, Debbie said, “No. When we ran, I
ran home. I don’t know where Ron went. He said something
about going to California to visit his brother. He’s off-grid. I
haven’t heard from him.”
Liam knew he’d have a hard time locating Ron.
Everything in her stance, from her hunched shoulders to her
arms wound tightly across her upper arms to her gaze that
darted around the room, screamed fear, and he knew he was
about to lose her.
“Last question I promise. Did any of you know Brad
Johnson?”
“Not really. He was a member of the Paranormal Society and
we saw him at meetings, but none of us talked to him much.”
Liam handed her his card. “Thank you for talking to me. If
you think of anything else or Ron turns up, will you call me?”
“Sure.”
She didn’t show him to the door.
Sitting in his car, he dry swallowed a couple of aspirin to
soothe his pounding headache. He put the bottle in the pocket
of his jacket and encountered the medal. He hadn’t bothered to
show it to Debbie. He already knew it was Michael’s and he
didn’t want to upset her further. He didn’t think that Debbie or
the elusive Ron was involved in Michael’s death. Even though
he hadn’t heard from Pete Moore yet, he was pretty sure that
the cause of death would be the same as Brad Johnson’s –
crushed on the inside and untouched on the outside. He
allowed himself to think that no human could do that.
He didn’t think the medal had anything to do with the
murder, but he couldn’t dismiss it. Logan had taught him that
anything, no matter how insignificant it seemed, could lead to
an arrest. He could go back to the station and research it or he
could go to the person who might know something about it.
From his earlier conversation with Logan, he knew that
Doctor Szala lived in Timonium, which wasn’t very far from
Perry Hall. It was much faster and quicker than going all the
way back to the station. That’s what he told himself. He wasn’t
pulling out his phone and dialing the doctor’s number because
he wanted to see the man, but because he wanted to pick his
brain. And that was the only reason.
Chapter Four
The phone call from the detective was unexpected. Bartek
thought he’d closed the door on further contact at their first
meeting. He had to admit to being intrigued by the reason for
Liam’s visit. It seemed there had been another murder and
Liam had found something at the crime scene that he wanted
Bartek to look at.
Against his better judgment, he gave the other man his home
address. The feeling that came over him at the thought of seeing
Liam again was surprisingly close to giddy. He shook his head.
Giddiness, at his age.
Vampires tended to be loners, but when they loved, they
loved long and true. His last human lover, Edward, had
ingested a little of his blood now and then. It had prolonged
Edward’s life, but in the end he’d succumbed to the frailness of
the human body. He’d offered to turn him many times, but
Edward didn’t want that. He wanted to live as a human, no
matter the cost. Bartek could certainly understand that. He was
so old that he barely remembered having been human. If
someone offered him the chance to be human again, he
wouldn’t take it, too set in his ways as a vampire after all these
years.
Edward had been dead for over a hundred years and he
would always love him, just as he did all of his past paramours
before him. But it was time to put Edward to rest, and open his
heart again.
The doorbell rang and he opened the door to find Liam
standing on the porch, shifting from foot to foot. The younger
man wore a tight pair of jeans and a University of Maryland
Terrapins sweatshirt. Bartek could pick up the underlying smell
of cologne, Irish Spring soap and the unique musk that from
now on would remind him of the detective.
Liam smiled broadly, hoping to alleviate the man’s obvious
anxiety, Bartek said. “It’s good to see you again, Detective Van
Zandt. Please come in.”
Shrugging out of his coat, Liam said, “Thanks for seeing me
on such short notice, Doctor. I won’t take up much of your
time.”
“Please, call me Bartek.”
“Only if you’ll call me Liam,” he said, handing Bartek his coat
to hang on one of the pegs in the foyer.
“Done.” He guided Liam into the living room. Large
windows lined the back of the room, letting in the bright early
winter sun. Liam stood in front of them, gazing out at the small
man-made lake behind the house.
“Would you like a drink? I still have some of the Talisker.”
“I shouldn’t, but it’s been a hell of a day,” Liam accepted the
glass with a nod of thanks.
“Shall we have a seat?” Bartek led the way to a cozy sitting
area and gestured toward the couch. “So, you had something
you wanted to show me?”
Liam reached into his pocket and pulled out a small
medallion in a plastic bag. “This was found clutched in the
hands of the latest victim. I was told that it’s a St. Benedict
medal and that ghost hunters use it to ward off evil.” He
twisted his lips in a tired and slightly embarrassed smile. “I was
hoping you could tell me more.”
“It is indeed a St. Benedict medal, and a beautiful one at
that.”
“I thought so, too. That it’s beautiful, I mean.”
“Then you have very good taste.” Liam ducked his head. Not
good with compliments, then. I may have to do something about that.
“May I take it out of the bag?” he asked.
“Only if you wear these.” Liam withdrew a pair of gloves
from another pocket. “You’re not allergic to latex, are you?”
“No.” After putting on the gloves, he held out his hand for
the bag. He removed the medal and turned it over in his hands
a few times. The craftsmanship was exquisite.
He moved closer to Liam and tapped on the figure of the
saint. “St. Benedict of Nursia, founder of the Order of St.
Benedict, also known as the Benedictine monks.” Using one
long finger, he traced the symbols. He pointed out the cross in
the saint’s right hand. “St. Benedict is closely associated with
the cross. He had great faith in it and performed miracles using
it. See this in his left hand? That’s the Regula Benedicti or the
Rule of St. Benedict, guidelines for monastic communities that
have been used for over fifteen hundred years.”
Liam reached over and pointed at one of the symbols.
“What’s with the bird?”
Biting back a grin, Bartek said, “Well, the raven and the cup
are related. They symbolize a story in which Benedict’s first
attempt at a religious community didn’t go very well. The
monks thought he was too strict so they poisoned his wine and
bread. Benedict made the sign of the cross over the cup and it
shattered, then the raven flew away with the poisoned bread.”
“What’s this say?” Liam pointed to the Latin words that ran
around the edge of the medal.
“Eius in obitu nostro praesentia muniamur!
It means ‘May we be
strengthened by his presence in the hour of our death.’ St.
Benedict is regarded as the patron saint of a happy death.”
“Charming,” Liam muttered and drained the last of his
whiskey. “So what makes this medal so useful in warding off
evil?”
Turning the medal over, Bartek pointed, “It’s these letters
here.” Ringing the medal on the reverse side were the letters V
R S N S M V - S M Q L I V B. “It’s the abbreviation for Vade retro
Satana! Nunquam suade mihi vana! Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena
bibas.
Short version: Get thee behind me, Satan.”
“That explains why it’s used by ghost hunters, I guess.”
“It’s used for a number of reasons, most of which boil down
to protection against bad things.”
“Too bad it didn’t work.”
“The Black Aggie statue isn’t a ghost or the Devil, Detective.
But it is rumored to be cursed by witches, so the powers of the
medal would be useless.” Bartek threw out that tidbit of
information, hoping Liam would get a clue that the forces he
was dealing with were supernaturally old.
“Witches? I’ve never heard that before and I thought I’d read
everything online about the statue.”
Bartek smiled at Liam’s naïveté. “Not everything is on the
Internet. In the occult community it has long been believed that
Marian Adams – if you remember, she was the wife of the artist
who sculpted the statue that Aggie was copied from – put a
curse on Black Aggie as a way to get revenge on Felix Agnus.
The curse was supposed to prevent him from ever resting. Of
course, there is no way to find out if it actually worked, but it
does appear to have some side effects.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Liam said with a slight shake of his
head. “So Mrs. Adams was a witch?”
“She dabbled, mostly. Supposedly, she bought the curse from
a Romany woman, who gave her precise instructions as to how
to cast the spell.”
“The word on the statue was Romany. It meant ‘death.’”
Liam said.
“It did?” Bartek acted surprised, not willing to give away the
fact he lied to Liam when they’d first met. “Interesting. Perhaps
there is some truth to the rumor then.”
He handed the medal back to Liam and pulled off the gloves.
Liam put the medal back in his pocket and sat quietly for a
few moments, seeming to be lost in thought. Finally, he spoke.
“The statue was in DC for decades, right?”
Bartek nodded.
“Were there any similar deaths in Washington while Aggie
was there?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but you’d have to check to be sure.
Perhaps the spell only works when Aggie is in the Druid Ridge
cemetery.”
Covering his face with his hands, Liam blew out a puff of air.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but is there a way to break
the curse?”
Bartek blinked. “You believe there’s a curse?” This was quite a
change in attitude from their initial meeting when Liam had
been unable to wrap his head around the curse.
Liam jumped up from the couch and began to pace. “I don’t
know what I believe, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it? I just don’t
want anyone else to die.”
“Indeed it is.” Where was he going to find a witch willing to break
a century-old spell?
“I’ll start doing some research,” he said. And
by research he meant attempting to track down one
. Like vampires
and werewolves, they weren’t inclined to announce their
presence and they were difficult to detect.
A slow smile of gratitude spread across Liam’s handsome
face. “Thank you, Bartek.”
Liam stepped closer and Bartek could smell his growing
arousal. He bit back a moan.
“I’d like to thank you properly,” Liam said, licking his lips
and leaving no doubt as to his intention. “That is, if you don’t
mind.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Bartek said, closing the distance
between them. He felt light, as if his loneliness had been lifted
from him.
He leaned in and pressed his lips gently against Liam’s. They
were soft and pliant. They kept the kiss chaste for a short time,
but soon they were hungry for more. Liam was pressed up
against him now and Bartek could feel the beat of his heart
against his own chest. Liam’s tongue was pressing for entrance
and Bartek opened and drew it into his mouth, suckling lightly
on the slippery flesh, delighting in the little noises coming from
Liam.
The kiss grew bolder, little nips at each other’s lips, tongues
tangling together, lips crushed together.
Bartek tore his mouth away just as Liam palmed his cock
through his jeans. “Perhaps we should move this upstairs,
Detective? My living room isn’t my favorite place for sex.”
“But we are doing this, right?” Liam asked, his lust palpable.
Bartek grabbed a handful of Liam’s sweatshirt. “Quite
frankly, if you stop now there might be an issue.” He pulled
Liam up and all but dragged him into another part of the house.
They made it into the kitchen where Liam pulled some kind of
police take-down move, and Bartek found himself on the floor
with Liam hovering above him, grinning like a maniac at his
brash move. Then his eyes went dark and he lowered himself
onto Bartek, grinding down when their cocks met.
Bartek gasped at the contact and wrapped his arms around
Liam’s neck. It was good. Really, really good, but hell if he was
going to have sex on the kitchen floor. He was too old for that.
“I do have perfectly good bed upstairs. I’ve seen it, perhaps
you’d like to see it too?”
“Later. Much later.” Liam growled in his ear, punctuating
each word with a perfect thrust that dizzied Bartek. He bucked
up and gave in to the inevitable once more. It looked like they
were going to have sex on the kitchen floor.
“As you wish.” He pushed at Liam and started pulling at the
zipper of his jeans.
“Finally, you’re getting with the program!” Liam knelt up
and pulled off his sweatshirt while Bartek was still tugging at
his jeans. As Liam’s six-pack abs were revealed, Bartek
abandoned his efforts in order to run his hands over the cut of
Liam’s hips, the ridges of his abdomen, his pecs – all the places
on Liam’s body that he’d wanted to touch pretty much since the
first time he’d seen him. His position put him at eye level with
Liam’s nipples, which wasn’t a bad place to be, and Bartek took
advantage of it by licking one then the other before deciding he
liked the right one better and returning to torment it with sharp
jabs of his tongue.
“God, Bartek,” Liam ground out, pushing Bartek away and
pulling at the buttons on Bartek’s trousers and attempting to
tug them down. “Why can’t you wear jeans like everyone else?”
“Only coal miners and cowboys wear jeans.” Bartek knocked
Liam’s hands away and shoved his pants and underwear down
in one swift movement, groaning when cloth dragged over his
hard cock. Liam was on him as soon as his cock was bared, big
hand wrapping around, squeezing just right and giving him a
sharp tug.
“Holy Jesus!” Bartek shouted and gave up on the idea of
getting his trousers down the rest of the way. He was lying
bare-assed on the kitchen floor with his pants around his thighs,
still wearing his shirt, while Liam took him apart with one hand
and a gleam in his eye. Each upward stroke ended with a twist
that soon had Bartek panting, writhing and scrabbling at the
linoleum, his fingers desperately trying to find purchase, to
hold on.
He’d never felt this type of desperate passion for another
man, his vampirish nature too controlling to let go completely,
but Liam seemed to break down all his barriers.
Liam pulled Bartek up, pushed his tongue in his mouth, and
plastered their bodies together, his cloth-covered cock pressing
against Bartek’s bare one. He did this little shimmy thing that
had Bartek clutching at Liam’s biceps while his orgasm
overtook him.
Liam coaxed him through it, as if that were necessary, but still
his breathless, “Come on, Bartek. That’s it, let go,” made
everything better and he shot all over his shirt and Liam’s bare
chest. As Bartek was coming down, Liam continued to thrust
against him until he went rigid and groaned out a few curses.
He collapsed onto Bartek and they lay there, catching their
breath, Bartek’s hand in Liam’s hair, one hand stroking the
damp curls at the base of his neck while the other hand traced
the red dragon tattoo on Liam’s left arm. Bartek really wanted
to trace it with his tongue, but couldn’t find the energy. Some
other time, he promised himself.
When Bartek opened his eyes, Liam was looking down at
him, eyes dark with something that Bartek didn’t want to
define.
He stood up and held his hand out to Liam. It was then that
Bartek realized that Liam was still wearing his jeans. Feeling a
little smug over making Liam come in his pants, Bartek warred
with himself over his desire to tell Liam to go home or push
him back down on the kitchen floor and make him come again.
“Liam,” Bartek said using the detective’s given name for the
first time as he pulled him into his embrace. “Why did you
really come here? You could have researched the medal online
or gone to the university. Why come to me?”
“I wanted to see you. I haven’t been able to get you off my
mind.” Liam’s response came out a little breathless.
The implication sent waves of excitement through Bartek.
“Liam,” he whispered. The younger man’s eyes smoldered with
fire and his invitation was a passionate challenge, impossible to
resist.
Bartek felt his resolve crumble completely. “That bed I
promised to show you? It’s upstairs. Coming?”
Liam gave Bartek a smile that sent his pulse racing. They
clasped hands and went upstairs.
* * * *
Bartek settled back in his chair waiting for the spectacle to
begin. Watching the wedding of the only son of Lionel,
Vampire King of Maryland to Kaden, Alpha of the Cumberland
Pack, was truly shaping up to be the highlight of his week
besides having Liam in his bed every night.
Liam had unleashed something primal inside of Bartek. He’d
long since given up any pretense of pushing Liam away and the
good detective was quickly worming his way into Bartek’s heart
as well.
The werewolves were milling about with bemused looks.
Werewolf weddings were more focused on the reception than
the actual ceremony. Most couples tied the knot at the
courthouse then gathered in the woods with their packs and a
lot of alcohol. Toasts were given to the newly wedded pair that
became more risqué as the night and the liquor wore on. It
ended with everyone shifting and running amok through the
woods.
Vampires were much more traditional, so the happy couple—
Bartek snorted to himself—were doing things the vampire way.
Barely containing their appalled looks while not-so-subtly
pressing their handkerchiefs to their noses, the vampires
attempted to block out the smell of wolf. The scent would be
lessened due to the wolves being in human form, but the
sensitive vampire nose could still pick it up. As could the
werewolves smell the vampires. They sniffed at the air and
batted at their noses while glaring across the aisle.
That the two sides weren’t fighting was a testament as to why
this unusual marriage was taking place. Rather than go to war
against the shifters when a werewolf killed a vampire, King
Lionel devised the union between his son and one of the most
powerful Alphas in Maryland. How he got Kaden Scott to agree
to it was a mystery, but the king was a shrewd negotiator
otherwise he’d never have lasted as King in vampire circles for
as long as he had.
The crowd quieted down as the ceremony began. Smiling to
himself, Bartek wondered idly if the wolves knew how long a
vampire wedding took.
The officiate used a modified ceremony, taking into account
that one half of the couple was wolf, but Bartek shook his head
at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. He suspected that the
king had taken advantage of the wolves breaking of the Treaty
of Baltimore as an excuse to rid himself of his son Max. Lionel’s
son acted like no vampire prince Bartek had ever known.
The ceremony was wrapping up and not a moment too soon
as the wolves were growing restless. Bartek saw a couple of
them tugging at their coat and ties, looking ready to disrobe and
run through the reception if it didn’t end soon.
The newlyweds walked down the aisle, Max looking happy,
Kaden looking as if he had no idea what he’d gotten himself
into. Bartek hoped that things worked out for them. A nasty
divorce could have consequences well beyond the couple as the
truce between wolves and vampires had always been tenuous at
best.
Bartek allowed the crowd to sweep him out the doors and
across the hotel’s lobby to the room where the reception was
taking place. He soon found himself standing at the blood bar
with a bag in each hand weighing his options. The bar was
stocked with bags of fresh blood of every type, including the
rare ones.
On the one hand, AB negative was the rarest blood type in
the world and rumored to be quite delicious. B negative, on the
other hand, was almost as rare and very much to his taste. He
examined the bags and was ready to flip a coin when a familiar
scent wafted in the air.
“Hello, Logan,” he said without turning around.
“I really hate it when you do that.”
“I know, that’s why I do it.” He turned toward Logan, waving
the blood bags. “What do you think? AB neg or B neg?”
“Neither,” Logan said, wrinkling his nose and backing up a
step. “That’s disgusting!”
“Says the man who chases down Bambi and eats it alive.” He
placed the bag of AB neg back on the table. “I think I’ll stick
with the tried and true.” Fangs extended, he pierced the bag
and began sucking the precious liquid within.
Logan was laughing now. “Jesus, couldn’t you put that in a
glass like a civilized blood sucker?”
“I could, but this gets more of a reaction out of you,” he said
with a sly grin. “But if it makes you feel better . . .”
Bartek picked up a glass and poured the remainder of the
blood in it before raising it in a salute to his companion.
Logan stood there in his very becoming gray suit, shaking his
head. Winding Logan up was always an enjoyable pastime.
“How did you like the wedding?” Bartek asked.
“I didn’t,” Logan said in a flat voice. “Why didn’t you warn
me how long the damn thing would be?”
“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Besides the grooms
looked so fetching in their outfits.”
Logan laughed. “I’ve never known a vampire who dresses
like a cowboy. He’s an odd one, that Max. Kaden’s going to
have his hands full.”
“I think Kaden should be worrying about his new in-laws
rather than his husband. I’ve known Max since he was born.
The boy’s never fit in at Court, but he’s got a good heart. Now,
rumor has it that Lionel wants to pass over Max as heir in favor
of his cousin, Cedric.” Bartek lowered his voice, being purposely
mysterious.
“Vampires and their politics.” The shifter said with a sneer.
“Well, you almost had a riot on your hands with that long-ass
ceremony. Weres are not generally known for their patience.
And speaking of having to have the patience of a saint, where is
your date?”
“Unfortunately, Liam had to work today.” Bartek responded,
knowing his comment would further provoke the werewolf.
“It’s Liam now, uh?” Logan countered icily. “Does he know
about you?”
“The issue has never come up, Logan. I enjoy Detective Van
Zandt’s company, but we’re nowhere close to walking down
the aisle.” Bartek said softly, mockingly.
Logan looked at him in disbelief. “Right. Tell yourself that for
as long as you can. Denial is not just a river in Egypt.”
Bartek drew himself up to his full height, lifting his chin,
meeting Logan’s icy gaze straight on. “I’m not in denial. What
Liam and I have so far is casual. There’s no need for him to
know the truth about me.” Bartek knew they’d moved beyond
casual, but no sense in letting Logan know how much Liam
affected him.
“Little bit of advice, Doc, if it does get serious, tell Liam
you’re a vampire immediately. Speaking from personal
experience keeping a secret that big from a lover tends to not go
over well when the truth comes out.”
“Well, he finally admits he was wrong!” Both men turned
around to see Logan’s partner and mate, Dylan, standing
behind them.
Bartek acknowledged Dylan with a slight nod.
Dylan looked extremely pleased that Logan had admitted
he’d wronged his mate by keeping his shifter side from him for
so long. Bartek could see Logan reach out and lace his fingers
into Dylan’s, the gesture loving and sweet. It was obvious
they’d worked out that particular issue prior to their mating.
The men shared a secret smile, then turned to face him,
presenting a united front. Logan spoke. “You know if you hurt
him, we’re going to have to kill you, right?”
The smirk Bartek gave him was all fang. “You’re welcome to
try, Fido.”
* * * *
Later as Bartek circulated around the reception, saying hello to
many vampires he hadn’t seen in years and making small talk
to a few vamps he’d secretly hoped had died in a fire, he began
to feel claustrophobic in the elaborately decorated hall. He
hadn’t been amongst so many of his own kind in nearly a
century, despising the eternal game-playing and one-
upmanship the vampire community loved to indulge in,
preferring his studies and a small group of human
acquaintances who enjoyed like pastimes.
Feeling the walls close in, Bartek quickly made his excuses to
Baron and Baroness Van Helsing – Bartek always thought
they’d picked that last name as an attempt at a joke, which in
his estimation, failed – and he made his way through the throng
of supernatural creatures until he exited the reception.
He found himself outside in a small courtyard alone as he
tried to get his breathing under control. His pulse was racing
and sweat broke out on his brow. Normally, he was the
modicum of self-control, but tonight Bartek felt uneasy.
Plus, some psychiatrist he was, having a near panic attack in a
room full of werewolves and vampires and not realizing it until
it was nearly too late. Walking over to a small alcove, Bartek
tried some meditation techniques to calm down.
Angry voices interrupted his quiet contemplation. He moved
further into the shadows. They were speaking in rapid German.
Luckily Bartek spoke the language fluently, courtesy of the time
he’d spent at The University of Berlin in the latter half of the
nineteenth century.
“What was Max thinking marrying that dog?” The first voice
was cold and frustrated.
“He had no choice, Hans. You know that.” The second voice
whispered in a tone filled with awe and respect. “This doesn’t
change anything.”
“It better not. We’ve been working on this serum for a decade
and it’s nearly perfected.” A silken thread of warning brooked
no arguments.
Bartek didn’t recognize the voices, or the name Hans, but
then he’d generally avoided other vampires in Baltimore, so
they could be locals.
“We better get back to the party or it’ll look suspicious,” said
Hans.
As the men moved away and opened the door to go back
inside, Bartek finally caught a glimpse of their faces in the light
coming from the reception. The dour and angry one was
obviously Hans. Bartek had never seen him before, but the
shorter, pale blond who’d been defending Max he’d seen at
previous parties King Lionel had thrown.
Cedric Hastings. The groom’s cousin and Lionel’s all-but-
announced heir.
Through the darkness, Cedric’s gray eyes met Bartek’s brown
ones, piercing the distance between them. The gray eyes
narrowed and hardened, but Bartek’s gaze never faltered. He
regarded him with an impassive coldness of his own.
Cedric broke the staring contest first, but Bartek felt an
unease filter through his bones. Something was amiss, but he
refused to get involved in Court espionages – he learned that
the hard way. Ten minutes later after saying his good-byes to
Logan and Dylan he was in his car. Perhaps Liam was free by
now?
Chapter Five
Captain Manolis snagged him as soon as he walked in the door.
“Well, look who’s here. I was wondering if you were still
investigating this case, Detective.”
Dammit!
“Yes, Captain. I spoke with a witness and consulted
an expert in religious symbolism about the medallion that was
found on the body.”
She eyed him speculatively. “I see. This witness, did you get
anything?”
“Nothing useful.” Great. Now he was lying to his boss. “She was
a bit of a flake. It’ll be in my report.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fascinating. However, I’m expecting results
on this case, Liam. Close it soon or I’ll reassign it to another
team.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and started
yelling at another detective.
Liam shuffled the paperwork in front of him on his desk.
He’d spent the day making phone calls to anyone who’d had
contact with either of the two victims, but with no success. His
only witness was Debbie, and he wasn’t sure how to write a
report that featured an eyewitness describing a statue coming to
life and crushing another human in front of her. He didn’t think
his Captain would buy the supernatural tale, she’d probably
believe Debbie had been on drugs and hallucinating.
So, he could lie and say Debbie didn’t know anything or write
out the truth, as his witness explained it, and probably jettison
his future career plans. Cursed statues? Werewolves? They’d
lock him up in Spring Grove Mental Hospital.
“You look like you have the weight of the universe on your
shoulders,” Bartek’s voice was velvet-edged and strong.
Liam smiled and looked up. “Not the whole universe, just this
part of Baltimore.” He heard Bartek’s full and masculine laugh
and it lifted the burden of the case…somewhat. Bartek
expression was utterly beautiful and Liam felt himself respond
to the other man’s presence.
“Are you here for a reason, Doctor, or just in the
neighborhood and decided to donate to the Widows and
Orphans Fund?”
“I donated last year, Detective.” The beginning of a smirk
tipped the corners of Bartek’s mouth.
So the good doctor did have a sense of humor, yet there was
also a maddening hint of arrogance about him that fascinated
Liam. He had sex with the man, yet he knew next to nothing
about Bartek’s background except what Logan had told him.
The man was like an onion, you peeled back a layer and another
one was revealed. His European old-world charm was almost
like a mask that covered his real nature. The doctor was an
enigma.
Liam leaned back in his chair, relaxing for the first time since
this case started and soaked in his new lover’s presence. Bartek
made no attempt to hide the fact that he was watching Liam.
“Perhaps you’d like to donate again?” Liam asked playfully.
Bartek bent down and whispered in Liam’s ear, “How big a
donation do you want?”
Liam laughed, his eyes crinkling in mirth. “I thought you had
to attend a wedding?” He gestured to Bartek’s extremely
expensive Hugo Boss dark grey pinstripe suit.
“I put in an appearance as required, but I’d prefer to have
your company this evening. Are you free for a very late dinner
at Sabatino’s?”
Forgetting the report, he said, “I’ll get my coat.”
Dinner was delicious and the company even better. Bartek
hadn’t eaten much, just the melon and prosciutto appetizer,
which he insisted that Liam finish. At Bartek’s suggestion, Liam
had ordered the Brascilo and they shared a bottle of very
expensive Amarone. When Liam tried to pay, Bartek insisted he
pick up the check, Liam didn’t argue. He was sure the doctor
made more money monthly then he did annually as a detective.
He’d reward him later at home in bed.
As they walked the streets of Little Italy towards the side
road where Bartek had parked his Jaguar, the brightly lit row
homes which were a staple of the city illuminated their path.
Christmas was only a few weeks away and Liam could feel the
chill down to his bones, even through his heavy winter coat.
When they arrived at Bartek’s car, the older man used his
remote to unlock the doors, then gallantly opened Liam’s door
first before his own.
Liam laughed. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”
Bartek smiled and was about to respond when a figure came
up behind him, shoving a gun in his back. Liam froze.
The man, wild-eyed and hands shaking, obviously high on
something, screamed, “Give me your wallets!”
He could see Bartek reach in his coat to extract his wallet as
Liam took a second to think about his next move. His 9mm was
hooked on the waistband of his jeans, inside his coat and under
layers of clothing. By the time he got it unholstered, this robber
could shoot them both. The guy was on edge.
Liam looked at Bartek in silent communication, knowing one
wrong move might mean both their deaths. The older man
stood very still, but his eyes followed the gunman’s every move.
Liam weighed the odds and decided the risk wasn’t worth
taking. He’d rather lose his wallet than endanger Bartek. He
pulled out his wallet and handed it over.
He would never be sure what exactly happened next, but
instead of running off with their wallets, the gunman raised his
weapon and pointed it directly at Bartek’s head. Liam saw a
flash, heard the shot and screamed out in protest, his right hand
immediately trying to get to his own gun.
The bullet never hit Bartek.
With lightening fast reflexes, a superhuman growl, the older
man dodged the attack and grabbed the robber with one hand,
holding him up in the air by his throat. The man’s feet dangled
helplessly and he sputtered for air, his face filled with horror
and revulsion. Liam smelled the stench of urine and realized
the man had pissed himself.
Liam stepped back, stunned, the urgency to pull his gun
forgotten. His lover’s face had completely changed. Gone was
the urbane sophisticated psychiatrist Liam had come to know.
In his place was a demon-like creature. Bartek had fangs and
claws, which were digging into the man he was holding, but it
was his eyes that scared Liam the most. Fierce red orbs were
prominent on Bartek’s pale face.
Liam knew from experience that Bartek wasn’t a shifter, he’d
seen Logan transform on one occasion and it didn’t look like his
lover was turning into a furry beast. No, Bartek wasn’t a
werewolf. He had to be a vampire. Bartek’s transformation fit
into every scary vampire movie Liam had seen over the years.
Bartek was no sparkly incarnation from Twilight. He was every
child’s nightmare of a creature that lived under your bed and
could and would eat you when you fell asleep.
Bartek turned and faced Liam, eyes still blazing a crimson red.
“Do you want to arrest him?”
The man struggled in his grip.
Liam replied with heavy irony. “And tell my Captain what? I
was mugged, nearly shot, and a vampire, who happens to be my
lover, saved me?” Liam felt the ice spreading through his
stomach. He’d been lied to yet again. First Logan, now Bartek.
Men he’d trusted, one he was falling in love with, lied about
their very natures.
He closed his eyes, feeling utterly miserable. His teeth
chattered and his body trembled. Finally, Liam said in a dull
and troubled voice, “I’m fucked. How am I ever going to
explain arresting this bozo to a jury?” He sighed and opened his
eyes, “I think he’s turning purple, you might want to stop
strangling him.”
“As you wish, Detective,” and unceremoniously dropped the
man on the ground.
The gunman laid there, stark terror in every line of his body,
frozen like a deer in headlights.
“I think you better take this,” Bartek handed Liam the
robber’s gun, crushed beyond recognition. Vampire super-
strength
. Liam would have laughed if he didn’t feel so betrayed.
He shoved the useless gun in his coat pocket.
Bartek studied Liam’s face with an enigmatic gaze for an
extra beat. His fangs and claws retracted and his red eyes slowly
became a dark brown again. “If you can’t arrest him, then allow
me. I can help.”
Liam could see his lover turn and stare deeply at the man
trembling at his feet. “You were never here. You didn’t see
anything unusual.” Bartek’s voice was hypnotic. He continued,
“In fact, tomorrow you are going to check yourself into rehab
and get clean and never hurt another human being again.”
The man nodded eagerly.
“Go home,” Bartek ordered. The man fled as if hell hounds
were on his ass. Perhaps they were, at this point Liam wasn’t
sure if they didn’t exist too. After all, he had his own personal
Obi-Wan Kenobi right here doing his job for him.
Fucking paranormals and their hypnotic powers.
His despair quickly turned to anger. When Bartek turned to
grab his arm, Liam acted instinctively and punched his lover in
his beautiful, perfect, lying face.
Bartek jerked back, but said nothing.
In the back of his mind, Liam wondered if he should arrest
himself for domestic violence.
Before he could hit Bartek again and forever taint his oath as a
police officer to protect and serve, Liam strode away, disgusted
with his actions. He didn’t look back, the pain too great at the
moment. His hopes for a future with Bartek shattered.
* * * *
“Robinson,” Logan said as he answered his cell phone.
“You think you could have warned me, Logan? A vampire?”
Liam’s anger and hurt could no longer be controlled. He walked
toward Eastern Avenue, hoping to flag a cab down to take him
home.
Curses fell from his former partner’s mouth.
Liam ignored them and rancor sharpened his voice.
“Apparently our friendship must not mean much to you-”
Logan interrupted, “You know that’s not true, Liam. But it
wasn’t my secret to tell.”
“Bullshit.” Liam hit back.
He could hear Dylan in the background. “I told you, Logan,
you should have told him about Bartek. When will you learn?”
“How many times do I have to apologize for that?”
“Until the day we die,” Dylan said.
Now it was Liam’s turn to interrupt. “Are you fucking telling
me Dylan knew that Bartek was a vampire and I didn’t?” Fury
almost choked him. Liam knew that Dylan and Logan were
lovers, they lived together, but the fact Logan told Dylan before
him infuriated Liam.
He heard Logan sigh. “Dylan knows about vampires, yes.
He’s my mate, Liam. Shifters can smell a vamp a mile away.”
Liam took a quick breath of utter astonishment. “Dylan’s like
you?”
“Yes, I turned him a few months ago.”
“And you never told me?”
Liam could hear Dylan’s sing-song response and Logan’s
growl for him to shut up because he wasn’t helping the
situation.
“So you’re a werewolf, Dylan’s now a werewolf, and Bartek’s
a vampire. Anybody else I know a supernatural creature?
Maybe the mayor? Or perhaps my captain’s a troll?”
“Half troll,” came the quiet response.
Liam swore. “Is everyone in this fucking town a monster of
some sort? Any humans left?”
“Look, I know you’re upset, Liam, but you have to
understand that there’s an unwritten code. We don’t reveal
ourselves to humans.”
“I think I was a little more than just some human you worked
with, Logan. We slept together!” Liam reflected with some
bitterness.
“ Y o u slept with Liam?” Dylan all but shrieked in the
background.
Liam heard Logan’s quick intake of breath. “Oh boy.”
“Just how many of your trainees have you fucked, Logan?
Liam…me. You promised no more secrets.” Dylan’s voice
roared through the phone line.
If Liam wasn’t so angry he might have found this
conversation funny as it sounded like Logan, the Big, Bad
Alpha, was in a shitload of trouble from Dylan’s tone. Good.
He could hear Logan sputter. “Dylan, come on, it was long
before we were together. You were married…to a woman!”
There was a loud bang. “Dylan, you know I love you. We’re
bonded.” Logan’s voice pleaded.
Boom! That sounded like a door slamming.
“Gotta go.”
The phone went dead.
Liam stared down at his phone rather glad he wasn’t Logan at
the moment. A tumble of confused thoughts and feelings
assailed him. He’d had years to adjust to the fact that Logan was
a werewolf and while Logan and he had been lovers for a very
short time, theirs had not been a serious relationship, more
intermittent hook-ups, so his deception didn’t sting like
Bartek’s did. He had real feelings for Bartek and thought they’d
been building a relationship based less on sex and more on an
emotional connection.
If he was truthful with himself, the supernatural aspect
scared him less and less these days. It was the thought that
Bartek would hold back something this important from Liam
that made his blood boil. Like Dylan he wouldn’t tolerate a
lover being less than honest with him.
Now he had to decide if he could forgive Bartek.
* * * *
Liam arrived at Dylan and Logan’s house thirty minutes after
their aborted phone call. He pounded on their front door.
He was surprised to see Dylan, not Logan, answer the door.
“Logan’s not here,” Dylan said flatly. His usual snarkiness
dimmed. He looked as pissed off as Liam was.
“Good. I’d rather talk to you,” Liam retorted.
Dylan raised an eyebrow and opened up the door fully,
gesturing for Liam to come inside. “Why not. I’ve always
wanted to sit down and have a beer with my mate’s ex. The
more the merrier. Perhaps I should call Reynolds, O’Neal and
Garcia from the Cherry Hill precinct. We could call this the
‘Logan Robinson fucked me support group!’”
When Dylan’s eyes glowed gold, Liam wondered if perhaps
he’d made a mistake coming here. He had no idea who the
other officers were, but if Dylan’s words were any indication,
Logan had slept with them too. Logan had always told him
wolves were horny little bastards until their found their
mates…and apparently he hadn’t been lying.
Liam followed Dylan inside, finally stopping in the kitchen
where the other man pulled out two Natty Boh beers from the
refrigerator, handing one to Liam. “Cheers,” Dylan tilted his
drink in Liam’s direction and took a long swig. A very long
swig. About thirty seconds later, he finished it and got up and
grabbed another one. Liam watched him down that one too.
He slammed the empty can on the kitchen counter. “Alcohol
hardly affects shifters at all. It would take a whole keg to get me
drunk. Our metabolisms process it faster than we can consume
it,” Dylan grumbled, seemingly pissed off about that too.
“Bottoms up?”
Liam nodded woodenly and took a drink. Logan had
explained all this years ago after his surprise reveal, before he’d
transferred out of the Baltimore City Police Department.
Dylan’s eyes darkened with emotion. “So if you’re not here to
kick Logan’s ass, why’d you stop by?” He gave Liam a brutal
and unfriendly stare. While Dylan and he had never been best
buddies, the hostile reaction threw Liam off.
He hesitated, torn by conflicting feelings about Bartek’s
revelation, but first he had to clear the air with Dylan. “Look,
you have nothing to fear from me. Logan’s all yours. Hell, you
had him wrapped around your little finger long before you ever
became lovers. He’s been in love with you for years.” Liam
stopped, paused, and stared right into Dylan’s eyes. “I wouldn’t
hold it against him that he had a few relationships prior to you
getting together.”
Dylan snorted. “I never expected Logan to be a virgin before
we mated. I was his trainee, just like you, so I knew he wasn’t
celibate,” he shot Liam a withering glance. “I’m not holding that
against him. I just didn’t know how many fellow police officers
he fucked until tonight. You think he might have mentioned
you
in particular, considering the fact you’re still friends.”
“Water under the bridge, Dylan. It was years ago. It meant
nothing, and once I found out Logan was a shifter, I could never
have-” Liam stopped, realizing he’d overstepped, fearing
Dylan’s response.
His companion regarded Liam with amusement. It was the
first smile he’d seen from Dylan since he’d entered the house.
“Yeah, I felt the same at first. Werewolves, vampires, fairies,
witches…who the fuck would ever believe it, right? But, I got
over it. I don’t give a rat’s ass Logan’s a shifter. I was already a
little in love with him before I found out, and now it doesn’t
matter. He’s my mate. So what if he can turn into a fluffy dog-
like creature that has a knot on his dick?”
Dylan’s voice rose in volume as he continued, “Who is
sleeping on the couch for the rest of the week!”
Knot? What the hell?
Liam heard the front door slam. Logan must have returned.
Dylan pointed to his left ear. “Shifter hearing rocks.”
A few moments later Logan entered the kitchen, wearing a
very nice suit. They must have attended the same wedding as
Bartek, Liam thought.
His former partner glanced briefly at Liam, but went over to
his lover’s side and reached out his hand to touch Dylan’s face,
the movement almost unbearable in its tenderness. The two
men seemed to have some sort of silent communication, if their
expressions were anything to go by, and finally Dylan said,
“Fine, you’re forgiven, asshole. Can’t have my baby daddy
living in his car forever.”
Logan’s smile was blinding. He watched as the two men
kissed passionately—there was some definite tongue involved
—and Liam felt like a third wheel as his two friends made out.
This went on for a minute or so, until Liam finally gathered the
nerve to clear his throat, loudly.
Logan and Dylan broke apart, clasped hands and turned to
face Liam. Logan muttered, “Sorry, kind of forgot you were
here.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you two kissed and made up,
and you’re off the hook with your mate,” Liam stumbled over
the word, still trying to adjust to all this paranormal verbiage.
“But, I’m still mad at you, Logan. You should have told me
Bartek was a vampire.”
Logan opened his mouth, but Dylan interrupted, shushing his
lover. He stared pointedly at Liam. “And what if Logan had?
Would that have changed anything? You’d still be attracted to
Bartek. Ten bucks you still would have slept with him. I know it
didn’t stop me from fucking Logan when I first found out he
was a furry beasty.”
Liam protested.
Dylan smirked evilly. “Hey, I’ve seen the guy, I would have
banged him, fangs or not. He’s sexy as fuck and that accent?”
Dylan fanned himself.
Did Logan growl?
Dylan raised his eyebrow at his partner, doing a perfect Mr.
Spock imitation. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll
refrain from commenting.”
Logan shut up.
Dylan eyed Liam again, “So don’t give me that bullshit you
would have walked away from the hot doctor vampire.” He
frowned. “Or would that be the hot, vampire doctor?” Dylan
looked to Liam for clarification.
Liam shrugged his shoulders.
He was so out of his element here. He’d come to bitch Logan
out for keeping Bartek’s secret from him and now was getting
love advice from his werewolf partner-mate-husband? When
had his life turned into an episode of Teen Wolf?
“Whatever, Bartek’s hot, and he’s filthy rich from what Logan
tells me. Plus, judging from the way he spoke about you at the
wedding, I’d say the guy’s completely infatuated with you,
Liam.”
“Still doesn’t change the fact that he lied to me,” Liam
countered.
This time Logan spoke. “He fucked up and I told him so. But
Dylan’s right. I know you and I’ve never seen you this into a
guy before. Either break it off with him now, or go and talk to
him and let him explain.”
Logan looked at Dylan. “Believe me, telling the man you’re in
love with that you’re a supernatural creature of the night,”
Dylan laughed loudly at his lover’s statement, they grinned at
each other, obviously sharing a private joke. “It’s not something
that’s easily done.”
Liam sighed. All of his loneliness and confusion about
Bartek’s revelation welded together in one upsurge of
devouring yearning to see the other man. Dylan and Logan
were right, he had to at least give Bartek a chance to explain.
He studied them thoughtfully, and nodded. “Fine.” His
bright, clear blue eyes were directed at Dylan. “I’m not
promising anything, but I’ll talk to him.”
Dylan’s mouth twitched with glee, but he said nothing.
Chapter Six
Liam didn’t go to Bartek’s immediately, he needed a few days
to calm down and think about their situation. Plus, he had a
murder case he had to appear to continue to investigate, even if
he already knew Black Aggie had killed the two men and not
some random perpetrator.
In desperation, he called Erin at home. She answered the
phone straight away.
“Hey, tiger. How’s the mom-to-be doing?” Liam said, as soon
as she said hello.
“It sucks. No matter what they say, bed rest sucks donkey
balls. And by the way? Fuck you very much, Van Zandt. Too
busy to come by and see me? What, replaced me already?”
Erin was on a tear and Liam laughed. After all the
supernatural drama in his life lately it was nice just to talk shop
with another cop. “Who could ever replace you, my Queen?”
“You bet your ass. I’m irreplaceable, and don’t you forget it.”
She sighed. “So, I heard there was another murder at the
cemetery. How’s the case going?”
“It’s not. I’m stalled,” Liam replied. Technically, he wasn’t
lying to his partner. He was stalled. Liam had no idea how to
arrest a cursed killer statue.
“Any leads?”
“A few,” Liam said, “but nothing I could take to the DA.” He
paused, considering his next words. “Erin, if I were to tell you I
had this absolutely crazy idea, something so insane it might
jettison my career, but it could solve the case, would you say go
for it?”
There was silence. Liam waited. While his partner swore like
a sailor, she was a top-notch detective and he valued her
opinion.
For the first time there was a gentle softness in her voice. “If it
can stop the murders and bring the slime who did this to them
to justice, then yes.”
Liam exhaled slowly. He had a feeling she was going to say
that.
“Thanks, Erin.”
“No problem, partner.” He could practically hear the smile in
her voice. “Call me if you need anymore help.”
“Will do. Bye.”
“Bye, Liam,” and she hung up.
* * * *
After work, Liam stopped at a bar near the station to toss back a
little courage before he went to see Bartek. Unable to fight it
any longer, he’d admitted to himself that was in love with
Bartek, vampire or not. He only hoped he hadn’t blown it by
acting like an ass. He drained the rest of his whiskey and laid a
twenty on the bar.
The porch of Bartek’s house was hidden from the street and
his neighbors, and Liam was thankful for that. He’d been
standing there for a good fifteen minutes and if anyone could
see him, they’d probably call the police.
A few seconds later, the door opened and Bartek appeared
and looked him up and down. “How much longer are you
planning to stand out here?”
Liam had no answer for that, so he just shrugged.
A genuine smile lit Bartek’s face, “Come in, Liam,” he invited.
“I thought it was only vampires who had to be invited in a
person’s house,” Liam said, trying to break the tension.
“You watch too much television,” was his lover’s only reply.
Once they were settled in the living room with glasses of
excellent scotch, Bartek leaned back on the couch and said, “All
right, let me have it. I deserve it.”
“You should have told me.”
“You’re right, I should have, but what would you have done
if I had? It was evident from our conversations that you were
uncomfortable with anything supernatural.”
Liam had to admit that Bartek was right. If he’d told him after
they’d become lovers, he would probably have done the exact
same thing he’d done when he’d found out Logan was a
werewolf – run away.
There was nothing he could say to Bartek’s observations.
Bartek turned to face Liam on the couch. “I’m sorry you had
to find out the way you did. But, I’d still like to be together.
However, only if you think you can handle it. Can you?”
One look in those dark eyes and Liam was a goner. He had
deep feelings for Bartek. He’d waited a long time to find a man
like Bartek. He was pretty much everything he’d ever wanted
in a partner, someone smart, witty and amazing in bed. But
could he have a relationship with a vampire?
Bartek looked at him, expectation and what looked like
apprehension written all over his face. Taking a deep breath
and preparing himself to jump into something he couldn’t have
even imagine a week ago, Liam said, “I’d like to try.”
At first he thought that Bartek would reject him. Maybe
anything less than total commitment was unacceptable to him.
Finally, he laid a hand on Liam’s knee and squeezed. “Good
enough for me,” he said with a wide smile that Liam couldn’t
keep from returning.
* * * *
Days passed, and while Liam was busy with his caseload and
Bartek with his patients, the men tried to spend every night
together. The interaction eased some of Liam’s trepidations
about being involved with a vampire.
Most of their evenings were spent cooking dinner – Bartek
was an excellent chef – then retiring to his living room to watch
television. His lover preferred history programs, while Liam
liked the news. One night after a hearty beef bourguignon meal,
Bartek and Liam were lying on the couch watching CNN.
Liam’s rested his head on Bartek’s thigh while the vampire
lazily stroked his curls under his hand and occasionally brushed
his fingers down his neck, smiling as Liam shivered with each
caress.
Turning off the TV to rid them of any distractions, Liam
asked, “How did you become a vampire?” He’d wanted to
know for some time, but Bartek had never volunteered the
information. Now seemed as good a time as any to ask.
Bartek’s had stilled. “I was bitten by another vampire,” he
said shortly.
Liam twisted his head so he could look at him. A frown
marred his handsome features. “If you don’t want to talk about
it, just say so.”
The room was silent for several minutes until Bartek heaved a
heavy sigh and began to speak. “I was very ill with the plague,
dying in what is now modern-day Poland. My lover, an old and
very powerful vampire, turned me.”
“Did you know?”
“That he was a vampire? Certainly. We were together for
many years, moving every time someone noticed that I was
aging and Caius wasn’t.”
“Caius? Sounds Roman.”
“He was. Came to Britain with the Legions. After he was
discharged, he decided to stay. At some point, he was attacked
by a vampire. He was never very clear on what exactly had
happened. Seems he was very drunk. His maker didn’t wait
around to see what had become of his victim.”
Bartek looked lost in remembrance. “When I met him, he was
over a thousand years old. Once he turned me, we stayed
together for many years, but as with most relationships the
passion died out over time. We went our separate ways and I’ve
rarely seen him since.”
“Is he still alive?” Liam inquired.
“Yes.” Bartek snorted indelicately. “He lives in New Orleans
with a small group of vampires who are led by a rather
obnoxious Frenchman who fancies himself a rock star. He’s the
drummer in their band. Personally, I think Caius is having a
mid-life crisis,” he finished, a sneer distorting his striking
features.
“So your ex is a rock star?”
“He thinks so.” Bartek said with distain. “But let’s talk no
more of him.”
“Do you ever miss him?”
“No. Why would I? We parted centuries ago.”
Liam shrugged. “Don’t you sometimes want to be with your
own kind?”
“I much prefer the company of humans.” Bartek reached for
Liam’s hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “Now,
please, no more of this talk.”
As if ending the conversation, Bartek picked up the book he’d
been reading earlier. Liam reached for the remote and turned
the news back on. A companionable silenced settled over them.
“Bartek,” Liam murmured some time later.
“Hmm?” Bartek looked down at him.
“I want you to drink from me.” Liam’s eyes didn’t leave the
screen where the reporter was talking about how your bath
towels could kill you.
Liam could see that Bartek was shocked. His normally calm
and cool lover’s expression was one of astonishment. He’d had
never asked for that before.
“Are you sure about this, Liam?”
“Oh, yes.” Liam replied.
“What changed your mind?”
“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes, but how did you know?” Out of deference to his
sensibilities, Liam knew Bartek had strived to tamp down on his
vampire nature during their lovemaking.
“You’re pale.” Liam grinned nervously. “Well, paler. Plus,
your hands are shaking.”
Bartek’s hands were indeed trembling almost imperceptivity,
but Liam had noticed. And he was right. Bartek hadn’t fed in
three days. His lover was famished.
“So,” Bartek said, a small smile appearing on his face. “You
want to feed me?”
“Yes.” Liam toyed with a loose string on his shirt. “I . . . I
want to do this for you. You said it feels good to do it during
sex, for both of us.”
“It does. It heightens the sensations in ways you can’t
imagine. But I need you to be sure.”
Liam sat up so he could look Bartek in the eyes. “I am. You
need to feed and I want to be the one to give that to you.”
With lightening fast vampire reflexes, Liam was stunned to
find himself moved to an upright position with his back against
the arm of the couch and Bartek straddling him. His arms were
pinned down by his sides while his lover grinned at him.
“Don’t move,” Bartek whispered.
Liam’s breath quickened, but he stayed where he was when
Bartek released his arms. Bartek entwined his fingers in Liam’s
hair and pulled his head back to expose his throat. Liam
shivered when Bartek planted a kiss on his neck, a moan
escaping the other man’s lips. With his tongue, Bartek traced a
large vein from Liam’s throat to his heart. He ran a tongue
around Liam’s nipple, then nipped it hard enough to draw
blood. His slippery tongue lapped at the tiny drop of blood.
Liam arched, trying desperately to get Liam to bite him again.
Bartek’s laughter was of pure delight as he lifted his head from
Liam’s chest. Liam gasped when he saw Bartek’s blood-stained
fangs on full display. Bartek bent his head and nipped gently at
Liam’s throat while Liam trembled and moaned beneath him.
His heart was pounding and he was already hard, rocking
against Bartek as he pressed his throat up for more.
“Eager, aren’t you?” Bartek laughed. And then he flipped
them so they rolled off the couch and landed on the plush
carpet, Liam settling beneath Bartek. Bartek ran his hands down
his clothed chest before the vampire grabbed the fabric in both
hands and pulled. Buttons scattered everywhere as they hit the
floor.
“I hope you didn’t like that shirt too much.” Liam knew
damned well that Bartek didn’t care if he liked the shirt or not.
It wasn’t one of his favorites anyway and no one had ever
ripped his shirt off like so he wasn’t inclined to complain about
it. Besides Bartek was caressing Liam’s chest and pinching his
nipples with one hand while his other hand settled over his
swollen cock briefly before moving on to the button on his
pants.
Slowly, Bartek teased open the button and slid down the
zipper, taking every opportunity to brush over his cock with a
barely there touch before he nimbly drew Liam’s pants and
briefs down his legs.
As soon as he had Liam naked, he stood and stripped his own
clothes off, never taking his eyes off his lover. Liam watched
him disrobe with a keen eye. Bartek was beautifully made, with
broad shoulders and a muscled, lightly furred chest. A single
line of hair ran down his torso and ended in his rock hard cock
surrounded by shock of dark hair that stood in contrast to his
pale skin.
Liam trembled with arousal thinking about how good that
thick cock would feel inside of him. The last time Bartek fucked
him, he’d thought he’d come apart from the intense pleasure.
Now that he’d made the decision to ask Bartek to bite him, he
was eager to get to it.
Bartek was looking at him hungrily, and Liam laughed to
himself at the thought. Then he spread his legs and took himself
in hand stroking idly, not giving into the temptation to bring
himself off right then and there. Bartek’s eyes darkened and his
tongue darted out to lick his lips.
“Get the lube or I’m starting without you,” Liam said.
There wasn’t a surface in the house that they hadn’t had sex
on, so lube was stashed in every room. Swinging his hips as he
walked, Bartek grabbed a tube from a drawer. Liam propped
himself up on his elbows, gazing at his rounded ass
appreciatively.
He strode over to where Liam lay on the carpet and pushed
him back down, crawling over him and thrusting his tongue
inside Liam’s mouth. Liam opened to him with no hesitation,
earning him a small cut on his tongue from Bartek’s fangs.
Bartek drew his tongue into his mouth and sucked gently. Liam
moaned at the sensation and gripped Bartek’s hair, pulling him
in for a deeper kiss, his body bucking and rubbing against
Bartek’s silky skin.
If just sucking on his tongue felt this good, he couldn’t wait
for Bartek to sink his fangs in his throat.
Bartek disentangled himself. “You’re going to be delicious, I
can tell already.”
Liam said frantically, “Stop fucking around and bite me
already.”
Chuckling, Bartek said, “You really must learn to be patient.”
He grabbed Liam’s cock and stroked it slowly from root to tip,
just a little tease before he released him and picked up the lube.
“Oh, finally!” Liam said breathily when Bartek’s slick fingers
pushed inside him. Throwing his head back, he dug his fingers
into the carpet and held on. His nervousness and arousal were
intertwined in a dizzying effect. He spread his legs and tilted
his pelvis up to give Bartek better access. The fingers stretching
him slid in deeper and hit his prostate swiftly. Pleasure was still
ripping through his body when Bartek withdrew his fingers. He
cried out at the abandonment.
He didn’t have long to wait. Strong arms lifted him and
settled him on Bartek’s lap. He felt the tip of Bartek’s cock
pushing against his entrance. He wrapped his arms around the
other man and relaxed. Bartek slid inside him to the hilt.
They rested a moment, both panting, foreheads pressed
together. He really had no idea how Bartek maintained such
control.
Bartek ran a hand down his spine. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes. Please.”
With his great strength, Bartek lifted Liam up a few inches
and then lowered him slowly onto his cock. He did it again and
again, scraping his fangs along Liam’s neck on every down
stroke until Liam was nearly sobbing. “Bartek, I can’t-”
Bartek lifted him one last time and slammed him hard down
on his cock and at the same time sang his fangs into Liam’s
neck. Liam screamed at the pain of Bartek’s teeth breaking
through layers of skin. The pain quickly became a pleasure
greater than he’d ever imagined. The blood racing through his
veins toward Bartek’s hungry mouth was pleasuring his body
from the inside. He suddenly found himself lying on the floor,
with Bartek’s mouth pressed even harder to his throat, drawing
out his blood and pounding into him, hitting his prostate with
every stroke.
Liam screamed and arched, his orgasm ripping through his
body. Bartek lifted his head from Liam’s neck, looked down at
him and still thrusting inside Liam’s body, came with a gasp.
They clung to each other, trying to keep one another from
shaking apart.
When their orgasms subsided, they lay there on the floor
wrapped around each other, hands and lips caressing every spot
they could reach. Eventually, they drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Seven
Bartek couldn’t remember having a longer or more frustrating
day. His secretary had booked back-to-back appointments. He
also hadn’t planned making a visit to Spring Grove, where one
of his patients had been placed after a suicide attempt. A nasty
discussion with the young man’s mother had ensued. After
explaining that the medications he’d prescribed only worked if
the patient actually took them, she had informed him of her
intent to remove him as her son’s psychiatrist.
Two patients had shown up late and thrown off the rest of his
day. It seemed as if every patient was uncooperative and non-
talkative and that was just the morning appointments. The
afternoon was even worse. It was with great relief, when well
after midnight, he locked the office and headed for the small
parking lot behind the building.
As Bartek approached his car, two figures stepped out from
between buildings. One of them held something, but he didn’t
have time to see what it was before he was hit with a blinding
pain.
Holy water laced with garlic.
The spray hit him in the face and he clawed at his burning
eyes and struggled to breathe. Unlike in Hollywood movies,
holy water couldn’t disfigure vampires, it just hurt. A lot.
Blindly swinging at his attackers, Bartek managed to connect
with someone’s jaw. The man cursed and he recognized
Cedric’s voice.
“Cedric?” he choked out. “What are you doing?” In Bartek’s
debilitated state, Cedric and his companion subdued him easily.
Cruel fingers wound tightly in his hair and wrenched his head
back, exposing his neck. He felt a sharp sting and then he was
let go.
“What was that?” Bartek asked, his words slurring
alarmingly. “What did you do?”
Cedric answered him. “Well, since you were so interested in
our conversation at the wedding, we thought we’d make you
our guinea pig.”
Guinea pig for what
? Bartek tried to say, but he was fading fast.
The last thing he heard before he passed out was Hans
chuckling. “This is going to be interesting.”
* * * *
“Hey, buddy, you okay?” Someone shook him. The ground
beneath him was cold and hard. He opened his eyes only to
slam them shut against the bright morning sun.
The sun! How long had he been in the sun? He tried to stand,
to get to shelter. The sun wouldn’t kill him right away, but if he
stayed out in it long enough…he’d burn, badly.
Dizziness overcame him and Bartek slumped back down. The
voice from moments ago said, “I’m going to call 911. You’re
going to be fine.”
“That’s not necessary,” he stuttered out, his voice sounding
strange to his ears, but he didn’t know why. When his eyes
could finally focus, Bartek realized he was in the parking lot
behind his office.
* * * *
When Bartek woke, the first sound he heard was the beeping of
a heart monitor. Opening his eyes, he was blinded by the bright
florescent lights above him. He groaned, closed his eyes, as pain
streaked through his skull. There was a slight sting in his left
hand and when he finally could open his eyes again without
feeling the need to vomit, he realized he was hooked up to an
IV drip.
The stark white walls of a hospital came into view when his
eyes finally focused.
A hospital? The question was why? Vampires were immune
from human illnesses and ever since he’d opened his private
specialized practice he’d avoided them, the sight of physical
human suffering too much for him to endure after centuries of
practicing medicine.
Opening his senses, Bartek quickly realized he couldn’t hear
past the noise of the heart monitor. Normally with his vampiric
senses he would have been able to hear and smell every human
on this floor. His eyes couldn’t focus properly because the light
inside the room overwhelmed his ocular nerves. Small dots
danced in his vision and instead of having eyes of a predator
that could see nearly a half-a-mile away, Bartek could barely see
the large dresser on the other side of the room. Everything was
blurry.
That was impossible! Vampires had perfect vision. He tried
weighing the whole structure of events. Cedric and Hans had
attacked him late last night in his office parking lot. They’d
injected with an unknown substance and he’d passed out.
He’d woken up in the early morning sun, unhurt, not a burn
mark on him, even though he’d been exposed to its rays for an
undetermined period of time. As he began to assess his
condition, struggling to figure out what was wrong, a doctor
entered his room, clipboard in hand.
The young man barely looked out of medical school, but he
smiled at Bartek widely with bright green eyes. “Good, you’re
awake, Mr. Szala. I’m Dr. Ripken.” He extended his hand and
Bartek shook it.
He couldn’t sense the blood flowing through the doctor’s
veins. Bartek’s mind was spinning with bewilderment.
Dr. Ripken rambled on, oblivious to Bartek’s confusion. He
grinned mischievously. “Before you ask, no relation to Cal, so I
can’t get you good seats at Camden Yard.” He looked down at
his notes. “Now, while you were sleeping, we ran some blood
tests and not to worry there’s no sign of infection or anything
else. All your labs have since come back normal.”
Bartek glanced up in shock. Vampires’ blood was not
“normal,” they had severe genetic anomalies encoded in their
DNA. His blood work should have sent up gigantic red flags,
but Dr. Ripken looked pleased as punch that his patient was
okay.
“When you were admitted your vitals were a bit low and you
were dehydrated, perhaps from being exposed to the cold, so
we’ve given you a saline solution to bring your numbers up,” he
gestured to the IV. “As soon as the bag is done, a nurse will
check them again and if they’re normal, we’ll release you.
However, I suggest you make an appointment with your
primary care physician for a follow-up to find out why you
passed out in the first place.”
He inclined his head in compliance, but inside his stomach
churned with anxiety and impatience. “I’ll do that, Doctor.”
“Good. The nurse will be in shortly. I hope you feel better.”
He gave Bartek a brief nod and walked briskly out the door.
Thirty minutes later, Bartek left the hospital, caught a cab and
headed straight to Logan and Dylan’s house in Federal Hill. He
made no attempt to go to his own home, not knowing if Cedric
and Hans might be waiting for him. Cedric would never look
for him at a shifter’s house, the man despised werewolves, his
father had been killed by a pack before the Treaty of Baltimore
had been signed. He’d be safe at Logan’s for now. But he
needed to know exactly what Cedric and Hans had done to
him.
* * * *
Logan called a friend from the Cumberland Pack. Kele Davis
was a tracker and a healer, who specialized in treating shifters,
but had been willing to work with Bartek at Logan’s insistence.
He arrived about an hour after Logan phoned him.
The part-Native American, part-Irish wolf studied every inch
of Bartek, but instead of taking his temperature, blood pressure
and heart rate, he used magic to test Bartek’s aura and his
paranormal abilities: sight, sound, taste and touch.
Kele’s fingers trailed down Bartek’s temple, his fingers were
hot and smooth as they touched his face. Bartek saw Kele’s eyes
glow a deep green, then he stepped back and glanced over to
where Logan stood. Dylan wasn’t home, he’d been summoned
to court to testify in a deadly arson-murder case.
The two men’s gazes darted nervously back and forth, and
Bartek could predict what they were going to say. He was a
doctor, had been for centuries, he could make a diagnosis too,
given all the facts staring him right in the face.
Kele’s warm gold-green eyes were full of sorrow and
disbelief. “I’m sorry, Doctor Szala, but I can find no trace of any
vampire traits in your body.” His voice faded to a hushed
stillness. “Whatever your attackers gave you, it changed your
genetic make-up. You’re no longer a vampire…you’re
completely human now.”
Bartek gasped. He knew it to be true, but refused to
acknowledge it until another paranormal confirmed it.
Logan looked equally stunned. “You’re sure, Kele?”
The healer nodded. “His aura is human, he has no vampire
scent. All his senses are normal, no super-hearing or sight. His
skin isn’t cool any longer, along with the fact blood did not
increase his heart rate…” Logan had cut his finger and ordered
Bartek to drink from it. The taste had nearly made Bartek vomit.
Bartek collapsed into Logan’s sofa as his knees buckled.
Stunned and sickened, he repeated what Kele said. “I’m
human?”
“Yes.”
Bartek’s expression was one of mute wretchedness.
Logan, on the other hand, looked furious. “We’ll figure this
out, Bartek. I promise. I’ll have Kaden contact the Vampire
Conclave-”
“No!” Bartek protested. “Absolutely not. No one else is to
know, especially the Conclave. Cedric’s uncle and mother are
on the Conclave. What if they’re a part of this? I can’t risk it. I’m
vulnerable now.” Bartek glared at both men. “This conversation
stays in this room.”
That plan went to hell when Liam busted into the room, eyes
wild and concerned.
Bartek seethed with anger and humiliation. “Couldn’t keep
your fucking mouth shut. Uh, Logan?” His normally cool,
refined demeanor shattering as his lover stared at him in
incredulity taking in his features with a distressed glance.
Logan at least had the temerity to appear guilty.
* * * *
Bartek felt drained, lifeless. His whole body ached with pains
he’d never experienced before. Being human was exhausting.
He shivered with bone-chilling coldness and was so tired he
thought he could curl up in a ball and sleep for a week.
Instead, he shifted in the leather bucket seats of Liam’s car,
arching his back to try and take away some of the soreness
between his shoulder blades and the back of his skull. Hans had
hit him there after they’d jabbed him with the needle. He knew
without looking he had bruises. He’d seen enough victims of
muggings when he’d worked as an ER doctor to be familiar
with the symptoms.
The car stopped and when Bartek looked out the window he
saw they’d pulled up in front of the Biltmore Hotel on North
Charles Street. Bartek opened up his door and exited the car, as
the doorman talked to Liam. He saw his lover hand the
doorman his keys, probably so he could park Liam’s car, but
Bartek didn’t want Liam joining him.
“It’s not necessary for you to come inside. I’ll be fine.”
Bartek’s voice was like an echo from an empty tomb.
Liam answered. “I want to make sure you make it to your
room.” His face was full of strength, shining with steadfast
resolve.
But, Bartek wanted to be alone, to deal with this unexpected
change in his carefully ordered life. Bartek couldn’t deal with
Liam’s pity…not tonight. He’d rather lick his wounds in
private, and then figure out a plan. If Cedric had perfected
some sort of vaccine to alter vampire genetics, surely he had to
have an antidote? Bartek was determined that his
transformation into fragile, defenseless human wouldn’t be
permanent. Cedric would pay for this outrage. Even if Bartek
was human now, he still knew many ways to kill him. Human
hunters had been stalking their kind for years, if they could take
down a vampire, he could too.
It seemed the good detective’s stubborn streak reared its
head, as Liam stood there, not moving. Bartek shoved his hands
in his pockets, his shoulders hunched forward to ward off the
wintry air. He sighed heavily, not wanting to argue, but
knowing if he relented now, the sooner he could get Liam to
leave.
“Fine.” Bartek said.
Not long after Bartek had a key card to the Presidential suite.
If he was hiding out, he was doing it in style.
He could see Liam nervously pacing in the elegantly
furnished sitting room, looking decidedly out of place in his
worn jeans, tennis shoes and black leather jacket.
Finally, Bartek could take it no more. “Sit down, Liam. You’re
making me dizzy.” Bartek removed his coat, throwing it
haphazardly onto a lounge chair. Suit jacket went next and as
he pulled his purple silk tie from his collar, he noticed Liam
staring at him intently. He stopped undressing.
“Something wrong?” Bartek inquired.
“I’ve never seen you look less than perfectly put together,
except when we’re-” Liam broke off.
Except when they were making love. Bartek knew that’s what
Liam had been about to say. His lips puckered in annoyance. He
couldn’t deal with Liam’s revelations now. “I’m not a robot,
Liam. Even paranormals aren’t perfect.”
Liam shook his head. “No, I know you’re not a robot.” He
rubbed his hand wearily against his face. “I’m saying this all
wrong. I’ve just never seen you look-”
“This human?” Bartek finished for him.
“No, unsettled.”
“I’ve known who I am for the last five hundred years: a
vampire. But, in the course of twelve hours, my life has changed
dramatically. I’m not the being I once was. I’m tired, cold and
every cell in my body feels like it’s on fire. So, I do believe I’m
allowed to look a little ‘unsettled.’” Bartek insisted with
impatience.
Liam stiffened as if Bartek had struck him.
Bartek faltered, quickly chastising himself. He knew Liam
was only trying to help, but he didn’t want sympathy, he
wanted revenge…and answers.
He softened his voice. “Liam.” Bartek held out his hands,
offering an apology. Liam reached out and clutched his right
hand. “I know you want to help. Your protective instincts as a
cop are out in full force, but this situation isn’t like any
investigation you’ll ever encounter. I need to contact some
colleagues in the supernatural community and inquire if
they’ve ever heard of this happening before and how to reverse
it. Along with trying to find out how Black Aggie can be
stopped.”
With his left hand, Bartek caressed Liam’s cheek, smiling
sadly, “And I can’t do that if you’re here hovering. I need you
to go home and let me deal with this.”
He tried to hide his inner misery from Liam’s probing stare.
Leaning in he kissed Liam lightly. “Go home. I’ll be fine. I’ll call
you when I find out something.”
Liam looked like he wanted to protest, but finally he sighed,
and then gave a resigned shrug. “I don’t agree with you on this
subject, but I’ll defer to your judgment.”
Bartek felt him squeeze his hand, then dropped it. After Liam
left, Bartek let himself to crumble to the floor, his whole body
shaking in grief and hopelessness. His legendary control
obliterated by his current circumstances. Because despite what
he told Liam, he didn’t think his transformation from vampire
to human could be reversed.
So, after allowing himself a brief mope, Bartek picked himself
up, pulled out his cell phone and began to make some calls. He
knew a couple of fairies who owed him favors, and if that
didn’t pan out, he’d hunt down every witch in the Baltimore-
Washington area and see what they could conjure up.
Cedric and his moron partner weren’t going to get the better
of him.
Chapter Eight
Fear and anxiety knotted inside Liam as Logan, Dylan, Bartek,
and he entered the cemetery. If this crazy idea didn’t work,
they were screwed. He hoped the witch Bartek had gotten the
reversal spell from was reliable or this trip might be for naught.
He gave an exaggerated wink to his companions and said,
“Here goes nothing!”
As they made their way through the grounds, their flashlights
the only light besides the full moon illuminating their path,
Liam wondered how Bartek was coping. Ever since he’d been
attacked and turned into a human, his lover had pushed him
away, refusing to spend anytime with him unless it was
connected to the case. They hadn’t made love since the night
Bartek had drank his blood and only spoke on the phone to set
up this meeting. Bartek was still staying at the hotel, as Cedric
and Hans’ locations couldn’t be determined.
Liam knew Bartek was floundering. After five hundred years
of being immortal, his lover did not know how to handle being
a human. Finally, Liam had spoken to Dylan about the situation.
After all, he’d once been human, a werewolf bite changing his
entire life overnight. He thought the other man might have
some insight into how Liam could get Bartek to open up to him.
Dylan had told Liam to give Bartek some space and time. His
example had likened Bartek’s situation to Magneto’s in X-Men:
The Last Stand
when he’d been changed from the most powerful
mutant on the planet to just plain old Erik after scientists
injected him with a gene-altering serum.
Liam had wondered what the fuck Dylan was talking about,
while Logan rolled his eyes at his mate’s musings. Liam had no
idea how Logan put up with Dylan’s uber geekiness, much
preferring Bartek’s suave sophistication…but to each his own.
However, unless Liam could break through Bartek’s icy façade
and soon, he wasn’t sure if their relationship would weather
this latest disaster.
Finally, they reached the plot where Black Aggie stood. In the
moonlight, the statue had taken on an eerie blue glow. The
marble she’d been cut from shimmered as the beams of their
flashlights bathed her in light.
Dylan was the first to speak. “That thing is motherfucking
scary!”
“No shit, Sherlock,”
Liam thought.
Logan turned to Bartek. “Do you have the spell ready?”
“No, I left it at home, Logan.” Bartek retorted tartly. “I’m not
an imbecile, I have had occasion to do this in the five hundred
years I’ve been-”
His lover’s speech faltered and Liam saw him struggle to
regain his equilibrium.
“I can do this.” His normally mellow baritone was now edged
with absolute control. Bartek pulled out a sheet of paper and
began to read loudly and forcibly. A few sentences in, Liam
realized Bartek wasn’t speaking in English, or any other
language he’s ever studied, and Liam had learned a couple
during his four years at Mount St. Joe’s High School. Father
Benedict, the school’s guidance counselor, had made it his
mission for every student to take at least one semester of Latin,
Spanish and French. Liam had loved French and Spanish, but
he’d failed miserably at Latin. Funny, he’d expected the spell to
be in Latin. Perhaps that was just for exorcisms?
Bartek’s brown hair gleamed grayish-blue in the moonlight,
his pale skin even more pronounced. Age lines had formed
around his mouth and eyes, muting his formerly youthful
features. Glancing to his right, Liam saw Dylan step closer to
Logan, leaning against his partner’s shoulder for support. The
two shifters were almost immobile as they watched Bartek
stand there, hard eyes never leaving the statue as he recited the
spell, as if he were staring Aggie down, daring her to strike him.
His strong voice grew louder and more forceful with every
word. Despite the dire circumstances, Liam couldn’t help be
affected by his commanding manner.
A few minutes into the spell, the ground beneath Liam’s feet
began to shake. He yelped in surprise and then fell to his knees,
a searing pain ripping through his body. He slapped his hands
over his ears to shut out the piercing shriek that filled the air.
Aggie’s formerly dour face was now one of fury. Her lifeless
eyes blazed blood red and bore into Liam, pinning him under
her glare. She was in terrible pain. Bartek’s incantation was
hurting her and she was losing the fight.
Bartek, voice rising to be heard over Aggie’s shrieks,
continued to recite the enchantment that would end the curse.
A deep pain, like a knife plunging into his chest, overcame
Liam. Breathing was difficult and the pain in his heart became a
sick and fiery gnawing. He was suffocating as surely as if
someone had him by the throat. He gasped as sheer black fright
swept through him.
What was happening?
Dylan stood over him, shouting his name, but he sounded so
far away. Panic like he’d never known before welled in his
throat and he tried to stay conscious, but impaled by Black
Aggie’s steady gaze, Liam felt his chest explode…then
everything went black.
* * * *
Liam awoke to find his companions looking down at him with
matching looks of worry on their faces. The last thing he
remembered was the feeling of being crushed. Expecting to die
just like Brad Johnson and Michael Ash, he was surprised to
find himself alive. He sat up slowly, expecting his whole body
to ache. But it didn’t, well, it did a little, especially his left arm.
The sleeve of his shirt was torn and bloodstained.
The sudden rush of the smell of rotting corpses overwhelmed
his senses and Liam strove to keep from barfing up his super-
sized Big Mac dinner he’d eaten before they’d arrived at the
cemetery. The stench made his eyes burn and water.
When he could finally look up at his friends without wanting
to puke, he noticed Bartek and Logan wore twin looks of guilt,
eyes darting around, never settling on any one thing, especially
not him. Then it dawned on him that he could see their faces
clearly even though it was still quite dark. Just as he had seen
the blood on his sleeve.
“What happened?” he asked, chest tightening as if someone
were standing on it. It was getting difficult to breathe again.
Glancing from Bartek to Logan and back again, Dylan sighed
loudly and shook his head. He sat down on the grass in front of
Liam. “The good news is there is actually good news,” he said.
“Bartek’s spell worked. Aggie has gone back to being just a slab
of marble, never to kill again. Go us!”
That was great, but he hardly felt like celebrating at the
moment. “And the bad news?”
With a tilt of his head, Dylan glanced at the two other men.
Bartek closed his eyes tight and said, “I’d like to talk to Liam
alone.”
Logan opened his mouth to say something, but Dylan hushed
him. “We’ll wait in the car,” he said, grabbing Logan’s arm and
dragging him toward the car. His mate followed dutifully
behind him.
Liam had a feeling he knew what Bartek was going to tell
him, but the pounding in his head preventing him from
articulating it at the moment.
Liam watched Logan and Dylan go. He heard, but only could
make out bits and pieces of their conversation, and knew by the
clunk of the doors that they’d made it to their car on the
outskirts of the cemetery.
He gazed up at Bartek who was now leaning against a large
oak tree. His eyes were bloodshot and black rings had formed
under them. He looked so tired. Liam had never seen him this
way, human frailty wearing him down.
“You hate being human, don’t you?” When his head stopped
spinning, Liam got off the ground and moved to stand in front
of Bartek.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well,” Bartek said with a self-deprecating smile. “I’d
forgotten the pain, the tiredness, the hunger, the fear, having to
go to the bathroom all the time. It’s most inconvenient.”
Liam chuckled at Bartek’s comment, loving his honesty. Now
that the throbbing in his head had ceased, all he could feel was
an intense craving of lust toward Bartek. The need to touch the
man was all powerful. Grabbing fistfuls of Bartek’s shirt, Liam
hauled him in for a quick kiss, and then said, “I’m a werewolf,
aren’t I?”
He could reach no other conclusion. The sound of the cars
whizzing by on the highway were just as clear as if he were
standing on the interstate, which was over a mile away. He now
heard Dylan and Logan’s conversation clearly, even though
they were in the car. Bartek’s face had been clear enough in the
darkness that he could see the deep brown of his eyes. He’d
been dying and now he felt more alive than he ever had. What
else could it be?
Drawing in a harsh breath, Bartek said, “Not yet, but you will
be at the full moon.”
“And when is that?”
“Next week, I believe.”
“Not much time.” It was Liam’s turn to seek warmth and
reassurance. He tucked his head between Bartek’s shoulder and
chin.
With an almost hypnotic rhythm, Bartek stroked his hair until
Liam’s body relaxed. “No, not much time at all.”
“It was Logan, wasn’t it?” Liam had to ask.
Stepping back from Liam’s arms, Bartek ended up against the
tree again. “You were dying.” His voice was quiet, haunted. “I
begged him to do it, so if you need to blame someone, blame
me.”
“I’m not blaming anyone. I just wanted to know.” This time
when he laughed, it very nearly was hysterical. All these years
he’d been terrified of the supernatural and now he was a
werewolf. The irony.
Liam shook off the uncertainty of his new-found situation as
well as he could and glanced at his watch. It was nearly dawn.
He had to be at work in a few hours, and so did Logan and
Dylan.
He took Bartek’s hand in his. “I suppose we should get going.
Now that Black Aggie is de-cursed, I’m ready to sleep for a
week, my case is solved. Even if I can never tell anyone. Plus,
the boys must be getting antsy by now.” Not to mention that he
was forming an idea that he wasn’t sure Bartek would go for,
and he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.
They walked slowly hand in hand back to the car, Liam trying
to figure out how he was going to bring his idea up. They were
almost at the car when he decided that if he didn’t do it now,
he’d probably never have the courage.
Stopping in his tracks, he spun Bartek so he was facing him.
“What is it?” Bartek asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything’s fine. I just want to ask you something.” He
looked toward the car and spoke loudly. “You guys mind
turning your ears off for a minute?” He nodded when he heard
them answer in the affirmative.
Liam took a deep breath. Bartek leaned in, eyes bright with
anticipation. “I think I have a solution to your problem,” he
began. “Your human problem,” Liam elaborated when Bartek
looked at him like he didn’t understand what he was talking
about.
“I can help you.” A shadow crossed Bartek’s face. “After next
week, I can turn you, like Logan did for Dylan.” His speech
grew faster as Bartek dropped his hand and began to back away.
“You won’t be a vampire, but at least you’ll be a paranormal
again. And we can be together for a long, long time.”
Bartek was wild-eyed, shaking his head. “Logan turned Dylan
by accident. The pull of their mating bond was too strong to
resist.” He bit his lip so hard, blood began to form. “A werewolf
bond is permanent. I’m not sure we’re ready for that.” He
turned and he walked away.
“Wait a minute, Bartek! You don’t have to go. Let’s discuss
this some more. Please come back!” But no amount of pleading
would make his lover return.
“Where’s Bartek?” Dylan asked.
“He left. I think I made a huge mistake,” Liam said as he
threw himself into the back seat of the car. Both men turned to
look at him. He covered his eyes with his palms. “I asked Bartek
if I could turn him.”
“Are you crazy!” Logan bellowed. “A vampire would never
consent to being turned into a werewolf.”
Liam lifted his head and with a hard edge to his voice said,
“Well, since he’s not a vampire anymore, I thought it wouldn’t
matter. He’s human. Have you noticed that he’s aging faster
than normal? It’s like all those years are catching up to him. I
don’t want to lose him.”
Dylan gave him a quick nod. “I understand, Liam, but maybe
you shouldn’t have sprung it on him tonight.”
Liam groaned and pitched himself onto his back. “You’re
right.”
“Okay, now that we’ve established you’re an idiot,” Logan
said. “Where did he go?”
“Fuck you, Dad.”
“Don’t call me that if you want to make it to your first
turning, Junior.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you bit me,
Logan. Without my permission, I might add.” Liam glanced
pointedly at Dylan. “Although from what I’ve heard, you like to
turn people without their consent.” Liam exclaimed harshly.
“Knock it off, both of you!”
Dylan’s voice reverberated throughout the car, bouncing off
windows and causing both Logan and Liam to cringe. “You’re
both acting like children. We’ll deal with the consent issue later.
You were dying, Liam.” He looked at each of them in turn,
eyebrows raised, silently daring either of them to say another
word. “Now, where the hell did Bartek go?”
Liam looked out the window. To the east, the sky was
growing pink. “I don’t know,” he said. “He walked away.”
“Well, we need to find him. It’s a hell of a long walk to
Timonium.”
“He’s probably going back to the hotel.” Logan said. “He’s
still afraid to go back to his office or house because of Cedric
and his cronies.”
Dylan gave his mate a withering look. “That’s a long walk
back to the hotel.”
“Bartek’s a big boy, Dylan.” Logan replied.
“He’s also human, Logan.” Sarcasm dripped from every
syllable. “You know what your problem is? You know nothing
about being human.”
“Oh, here we go,” Logan threw up his hands. “You should
hear this, Liam.”
Liam stood outside the car, watching Logan peering into the
back seat searching for him.
“Liam?” he said.
When Liam pounded on the driver’s side window, he took
great satisfaction in making Logan jump so high that he hit his
head on the roof. Rubbing the spot, Logan rolled down the
window. “Sneaky son of a bitch! How the hell did you do that?”
“You were too busy listening to yourself talk to hear him get
out.” Dylan sarcastically said.
“Hey!”
Liam grunted. “You know what? I’m going to leave you two
to your domestic and walk back to the city myself.”
“Oh, come on, Liam, stop being a jerk. Get back in the car.”
Liam flipped Logan the bird and kept walking, ignoring
Logan and Dylan’s shouts. Good thing for werewolf body heat
as he barely felt the chill in the air. He’d try and catch a cab
outside the cemetery. Now, he only hoped his impromptu
suggestion to change Bartek into a shifter meant he hadn’t lost
his lover forever.
One hour as a paranormal creature and he was already
fucking it up.
* * * *
Liam didn’t know what woke him. Groggily trying to orientate
himself to his surroundings, he pushed his sleep-induced
fogginess aside and opened his eyes to the darkness of his
bedroom.
A shadow moved and Liam was instantly awake, his new
shifter senses on high alert. The scent of human flesh filled his
nostrils.
Automatically, Liam reached for his weapon on the night
stand, but a familiar voice stopped his hand in mid-air.
“It’s just me, Liam.”
Bartek. Liam hadn’t seen him since the night in the cemetery,
and that had been nearly a week ago.
Although he could see just fine in the darkened room, Liam
turned on the lamp for his lover. He saw Bartek flinch as the
light hit his now all-too-human eyes. Liam could see new
glasses perched on Bartek’s nose. Logan had informed Liam that
Bartek now needed glasses to see – his lover was nearsighted.
Liam knew this had to be another reminder of Bartek’s
condition.
“Sorry, Bartek. I know the light bothers you now.”
They both knew that’s what Liam was referring to, but the
unspoken subject hung heavily in the room, like the nearly full
moon outside dangling in the night sky.
Cedric’s attack on Bartek had changed the course of their
lives. As if Bartek becoming a human again hadn’t already
added enough stress into their lives, Liam’s change into a
werewolf had opened up a whole other can of worms.
Liam knew he’d terrified Bartek with his proposition. His
lover had spent centuries as a vampire, living amongst humans,
but never fully embracing society as some of his kind did. To be
changed into a weak, breakable human terrified Bartek, maybe
even more so than Liam turning him into a shifter. The
supernatural Bartek understood, human emotions seemed to
frighten his older lover. However, after weeks of being with
Bartek, Liam knew he didn’t want them to ever be apart.
The sensuality of Bartek’s feeding on him had awakened long
suppressed emotions that had been stripped bare in the nights
they’d been together. Liam knew now what he wanted and that
was Bartek. Perhaps the werewolf mating bond that Dylan had
explained to him was in effect now. Just the simple scent of his
lover was intense enough to give Liam an erection.
Either way, nothing had changed as far as Liam was
concerned. He loved Bartek, vampire or human, and needed
him in his life.
It was time Bartek made his choice as well.
Liam rose from the bed and let the sheet fall, unconcerned
about his nudity. Bartek had seen him in all states of undress in
the past weeks. They’d both touched, licked, and sucked each
other’s bodies in a frenzy of lust so profound that Liam had
nearly forgotten every other sexual encounter he’d had in the
past.
Better to dive in, no holds barred.
“I want to be with you. You can’t go back to being a vampire,
but we can have forever together. Let me bite you. Make you a
shifter and complete the bond.” Liam implored.
He slowly advanced towards his lover, holding out his hand
in entreaty. “Bartek, you know we have to do something. We
can’t stay in this limbo forever-”
Bartek interrupted abruptly, “There are a lot of mixed shifter
couples, where one partner is human, the other not. If you had
stayed human, we could have been just an ordinary couple.”
Liam had worked around this argument in his head earlier, so
he was ready with his answer. “I was dying, Bartek. If there had
been another option, you’d have taken it. The choice was me
dead or a shifter: take your pick. You made the right decision in
asking Logan.”
The absolute look of terror on Bartek’s face at the thought of
Liam dead let him know the battle was nearly over. “Okay, let’s
play devil’s advocate. If you stay human, how long would that
go on? Months? Years? Decades? Like Caius and you, we’d have
to move constantly. In the end, this same question will come up
sooner or later as you age and I don’t. How will we explain
that?”
He’d finally reached the place where Bartek was standing.
Liam touched his lover’s arm, grasping it tightly, wanting to
feel the connection that hovered between them now. Liam
pleaded, his voice getting deeper, “Don’t you get it? When I
thought I was dying, my only regret was that you and I
wouldn’t have more time together. Now we have the option to
never be apart…and I want that. I want you.”
Liam could practically see the final battle being waged in
Bartek’s brain, his lover’s features were strained as he struggled
with the decision. Finally Bartek responded, “Why would you
do this, Liam? We haven’t known each other that long. I’ve
never considered changing anyone into a vampire. An Immortal
life can be unbearably lonely. I wouldn’t want to subjugate you
to that. So, why would you do this for me?”
Lifting his hand off Bartek’s arm, Liam lightly caressed his
lover’s face, whispering, “Don’t you know? I love you. And I’m
willing to take that risk.”
Those words broke Bartek and he fell into Liam’s embrace,
nearly crushing him in his strong arms. Liam could hear the
muffled sobs against his shoulder as Bartek cried out all his
doubt, apprehension, and remorse at having put Liam through
this ordeal.
“Its okay, let it all out. These last weeks have been hell on us
both.”
Liam didn’t know how long they held on to one another, but
when Bartek’s emotional outburst was done, Liam moved them
towards the bed, helping Bartek lie down next to him.
They cuddled each other, pulling strength from their ever-
growing mate bond, until Liam whispered, “Please say yes,
Bartek. I can’t imagine a life without you by my side.” His voice
broke. “Be my mate.”
Chapter Nine
Bartek considered all his options. He was human now,
permanently, and Liam was not. In the end could only come up
with one answer to Liam’s plea. “Yes.”
Gathering Liam into his arms, Bartek felt the last of his fear
suddenly and utterly give way under the weight of his devotion
and love for Liam. This was Liam, his brash, courageous Liam,
and soon, his lover and mate for all time.
After pressing feverish kisses all over his lover’s face, Bartek
nuzzled Liam’s lips with his own, teasing his mouth with his
tongue. Liam responded, but Bartek could feel the slight
hesitation in his answering strokes. Bartek understood the
nervousness. It was nearly the full moon and Liam’s wolf was
not in complete control. The need to bond must be
overwhelming.
Bartek kissed Liam again, savage pleasure and searing lust
engulfed his senses the moment their lips touched. His lips
were hot and bruising, leaving no lingering doubts Bartek
wanted Liam. Breaking away briefly from those tempting lips,
Bartek held Liam in a bone-crushing grip, as he pushed Liam
beneath his body, trapping him. He sighed as the sensations
overwhelmed him. The pull of the mate-bond flowed between
them.
It was then Bartek felt Liam’s resistance fall away and Liam
kissed him back. Their tongues connected in loving foreplay.
Bartek kissed him in return with all the pent up passion he’d
held back for so long. As a vampire he’d been afraid of hurting
Liam, now he could fully experience their lovemaking during
his last night as a human.
A raw cry escaped him and, feeling Liam’s mouth on his, his
tongue driving deep and bold, Bartek was in heaven. The hell
his life had become since he’d been attacked and changed
evaporated. Liam loved him, nothing else mattered but that.
Never had he so hungered to make love to another person, to
possess them body and soul. Bartek heard Liam’s gasp of
arousal and glanced down to see Liam’s blue eyes dilated with
desire. The expression of utter trust and love on that face was
breathtaking. He groaned in response, trying to hold back his
natural instinct to make Liam his now. Claim him and be
claimed in return.
The primal, irrational part of his brain wanted to make love to
Liam first. To hear him moan in pleasure, writhe in delight,
then have Liam claim him right at the moment of climax, so
Liam would never forget it—or regret it. While the rational part
wanted to softly woo his lover across with loving touches and
kisses.
Kissing his way down Liam’s throat, he touched his lips to the
pulse of blood beneath. Bartek abruptly drew away. If he were
still a vampire, he would bite into that throbbing vein and drink
until he was sated.
“You can bite, if you want.” Liam’s lips touched the rim of
Bartek’s ear as he spoke softly.
“I no longer have the desire.” Liam’s blood was there for the
taking and the very idea disgusted him. Five hundred years a
vampire and now the thought of drinking blood made him
slightly nauseated.
“I’m sorry,” his lover said as he ran his fingers through
Bartek’s hair. “We’ll fix that.”
Yes, Liam’s bite would fix everything. He’d be a werewolf,
though, not a vampire. On the bright side, he’d be with Liam
for a long, long time. He wouldn’t have to watch him grow old
and die the way he had with Edward. Vampires went to their
deaths eventually, but they usually picked the time and the
place, growing despondent from living so many centuries alone.
But as a part of a mated werewolf pair, Bartek would never be
alone again.
He sighed and moved lower, taking a pink-colored nipple
with his teeth. He sucked the nub into his mouth, and flicked it
with his tongue. Liam moaned in delight wrapped his fingers
the back of Bartek’s neck, holding him in place, arching himself
eagerly into Bartek’s mouth. He wanted Liam so badly that it
was difficult to breathe, let alone speak, but he was able to pant
out his lover’s name.
Slowly, he felt Liam’s hands wrestle loose of his hair and slip
down his upper back, then lower, finally coming to rest on his
ass. Bartek could only suck harder, moving from one protruding
nub to another, dragging his mouth and tongue across Liam’s
torso as he did. In response, Liam started to move under him,
and that brazen invitation was too much for Bartek to ignore.
His body screamed for release, he needed to fuck Liam and for
that he needed to be naked.
Reluctantly breaking away from Liam’s chest, Bartek rolled
away from his lover to quickly remove his suit, then his
underwear. Coming back to his partner’s willing arms, Bartek’s
first thought was that Liam was absolutely beautiful. His lithe
body, now muscled because of his shifter genetics, made him
look like a demon sent from hell to taunt Bartek. The debauched
look on Liam’s face just made Bartek’s erection throb, aching to
be inside his lover.
Bartek groaned as he felt Liam’s nakedness against his own.
Taking Liam’s mouth in another mind-numbing kiss, Bartek
then slipped a hand between their bodies and firmly grasped
Liam’s cock and stroked it from tip to root and back up. Liam
cried out, “Bartek, oh God,” and jerked in his hand. Bartek
continued to stroke his lover, pausing randomly to rub his
thumb over the sensitive head, until Liam’s whole body seized
up and Bartek knew he was close. That wouldn’t do.
Liam let out a strangled curse when Bartek took his hand
away from his cock and his lips away from Liam’s mouth.
Bartek lovingly nibbled his way down Liam’s chest and
abdomen, echoing their previous encounters. Bartek wished he
still had his fangs. He missed being able to mark up his lover…
but after Liam changed him, they’d be able to have that again.
Liam whimpered, his body straining upwards, urging Bartek
to take him in his mouth. Bartek savored Liam’s shudder when
he complied. Bartek gripped Liam’s hard cock and put his lips
on the tip, tasting his lover’s unique essence. Then he opened
his lips to pull Liam deeper into his mouth. Liam tasted of salt
and sweat and that musky scent which had been inflaming
Bartek’s senses since they’d met. Bartek’s blood throbbed in his
veins, compelling him to complete the act, to finish pleasuring
Liam.
Liam’s cock pulsed in his mouth. He sucked gently at first,
then harder as Liam thrashed about, nearly separating them.
Bartek worked his mouth around the engorged cock like a pro,
briefly pausing to murmur, “You taste so good, Liam.”
Bucking up into Bartek’s mouth, Liam moaned out his
desperation. “God, Bartek…please, finish it!”
Not wanting to disappoint his lover, Bartek did as he was
commanded. Pulling back slightly, Bartek allowed Liam to slip
out of his mouth, then sucked fiercely just on the tip of his cock,
drawing a small amount of blood as he teeth scrapped Liam’s
cock. The blood was sharp and coppery and nowhere near as
good as it had tasted to him when he was a vampire. Bartek
might not have his fangs, but human teeth worked just as well
when delivering a little pain with the pleasure.
Liam screamed.
Taking his lover’s cock back in his mouth, Bartek sucked
deeply while gently caressing Liam’s balls with his right hand.
His left hand busily stroking Liam’s puckered hole.
The stimulation and blood play was too much for his dark-
haired lover and he finally came, sobbing Bartek’s name, until
Bartek could feel Liam’s body go lax in response to his ferocious
climax. Bartek let Liam’s dick slip from his mouth after eagerly
swallowing Liam’s cum.
Crawling his way up his lover’s body, Bartek kissed Liam
again. Long moments later, they broke apart and the slow,
wicked smile that curved Liam’s mouth sent a delicious shiver
through him that centered in his groin. It promised delights
Bartek had only dreamed about and Liam huskily growled,
“Waiting for an invitation to fuck me, Doctor?”
Bartek ground his hips against his lover’s as a silent reply and
moved one of his hands down between Liam’s legs, gently
stroking his lover’s cock back into fullness, reveling in Liam’s
newfound shifter refractory period. Once they were both
werewolves, Bartek envisioned Liam and him fucking non-stop
for hours.
As Bartek slipped a spit-slicked finger into Liam’s hole, he
cried out, allowed his legs to fall open, and without words
offered himself to Bartek. He took his time opening up Liam,
scissoring his two fingers inside his lover’s ass. Bartek’s own
body raged for release.
Desire thrummed through him, fire raced in his blood. He
could wait no longer. Bartek moved over Liam and impaled his
partner, slowly, inch by inch. Liam howled out in pleasure and
pain. Bartek stilled until he felt Liam’s body finally accept the
full length of his cock.
Deliberately Bartek moved and thrust forward and Liam’s
inner walls clenched around him greedily. It was addicting and
reminded Bartek of the feeling he got when he drank Liam’s
blood. He could lose himself in Liam’s body forever. The hot
friction consumed him and Bartek plunged deeply into his
lover. The movements continued over and over until they were
both sweating from the exertion.
The pleasure consumed Bartek until he was riding a crest so
high that he felt Liam’s and his souls collide. It was beyond any
climax or rush he’d ever felt before. Lights danced behind his
eyes, the darkness became vivid and bright, and he could hear
Liam’s blood pulsing through his veins like he had when he was
a vampire. He lost himself in pure feeling, in pure love.
Wetness coated his belly when Liam finally surrendered to
their passion. Then, Liam clenched his inner muscles one last
time and this triggered Bartek’s own climax so that wave after
wave of pleasure swept through him.
They stayed together for a moment, each panting harshly
until they were forced to separate and Bartek pulled free of his
lover’s warm channel.
Gathering Liam close, Bartek whispered, “Don’t be afraid,
we’re nearly there. You have to fuck and bite me to seal the
bond.”
“You’re absolutely sure about this, Bartek?” Liam asked.
He’d always believed actions spoke louder than words, so
Bartek rolled over on all fours and presented his ass in the air.
Looking over his shoulder to Liam, he gestured with the mere
lift of an eyebrow for his lover to proceed.
Bartek could see Liam bite his lip to stop himself from what
Bartek was sure a sarcastic reply. Liam instead took the
opportunity to slide his cock so that the head bumped against
Bartek’s perineum. Bartek moaned. He rarely allowed another
man to top him, it had been many decades since he’d indulged
in that delicious pleasure. He couldn’t wait for Liam to be
inside him.
Bartek shivered as Liam took hold of the cheeks of his ass and
spread them. When the warm lick of tongue touched his hole,
Bartek truly knew the meaning of bliss. As Liam prepared him
with his tongue and eventually his long, extremely talented
fingers, Bartek felt all his lingering doubts fade away. Bartek
knew he wouldn’t be able to face life without Liam by his side.
It only took a light touch to his prostate to set Bartek to
cursing and begging for Liam to fuck him. But Liam, evil
bastard that he was, took his time rubbing again and again
against the gland that had Bartek bucking back and moaning,
half hard already.
Liam removed his fingers, but not before giving them a final
twist that left Bartek panting. Liam’s hands were on his hips
and his engorged cock was pushing against Bartek’s entrance.
He let himself relax and Liam slid fully inside him.
A full body shudder worked its way up from Bartek’s toes to
his head as his ass clenched around Liam’s cock. He rocked back
onto Liam’s cock, the rim of his hole pulling tight as Liam’s
knot tied them together.
“Do it,” Bartek urged. “Bite me, Liam!” He drew in a sharp
breath when Liam nuzzled his neck, then he bit through
Bartek’s human soft skin and pain blazed through him. Instinct
and the strength of the moon were driving his lover to claim
and mark him.
The pain was short lived. Energy coursed between them,
binding them together in a way that dizzied Bartek. The mate-
bond slipped into place as Liam drank. Finally, Bartek became
weak from Liam’s efforts. “Stop, that’s enough.”
A low moan escaped from Liam, seemingly torn from his very
soul. Bartek turned his head to see Liam’s blue eyes hot and
bloodthirsty with his own hunger. Liam stretched across
Bartek’s back and their lips met in a savage kiss. Bartek’s body
hardened until he thought he might go mad.
Liam drew almost all the way out of Bartek’s body and then
trust back in, rocking Bartek forward. His arm snaked around
Bartek’s waist and one soft brush of his fingers against the head
of Bartek’s cock and Bartek was coming harder than he could
ever remember. He thought his body would turn inside with
the force of his orgasm. It rolled over him in wave after wave
until it finally ended, his body quivering with the aftershocks.
Liam turned them so they were lying by his side, running his
hand down Bartek’s flank, soothing him as they waited for
Liam’s knot to deflate. Bartek threw an arm over his eyes and
tried to get his breathing under control.
When he opened his eyes, Liam was staring at him.
“You okay?” he asked a little anxiously.
“Never better.” Bartek smiled and took hold of Liam’s hand.
“I imagine I’ll be quite sore tomorrow. Vampires don’t have to
worry about this particular quirk when they make love.” Bartek
pushed back into Liam’s embrace, indicating where their bodies
were still joined.
Liam winced in sympathy. “Sorry.” He paused. “When Logan
explained the whole mating bond thing to me, he didn’t go into
great detail about werewolf knots.”
“Neat, uh?” Liam leered.
Shaking his head in bemusement, Bartek said. “Yeah, neat.”
He smiled sleepily in return at his young lover’s excitement.
“Now, every time I sit down, I’ll be reminded of how good it
felt when you fucked me. I expect I’ll be extremely horny by the
end of the day.”
“I better rest up then, so I’ll be able to keep up with you.”
Liam gave Bartek a quick kiss and spooning in behind him,
dropped off to sleep moments later.
Bartek grinned. They’d have to work on Liam’s endurance.
However, for the first time in a long time, Bartek felt truly
alive and at peace. He had his supernatural life back. While he
wasn’t a vampire anymore, thanks to Liam’s mating bite, he
was a werewolf. They were going to be together for a very, long
time. Most wolves mated for the duration of their natural lives.
Plus now he had the power and the muscle to hunt down
Cedric and Hans. He could already feel the changes in his body
structure. His new werewolf genetics taking effect as soon as
Liam’s salvia and semen mixed with his.
No, Cedric would never expect a wolf to come after him.
Revenge would be his.
As he felt the darkness take him and this time he didn’t resist,
as he knew when he awoke, Liam would be with him—forever.
About the Author
H.L. Holston (Holly) is a teacher by day and a sometimes author
by night. She dreams up ideas with her writing partners Sue
(they write as Sue Holston) and Eleanor Bruce, but occasionally
she ventures out on her own. She admits she is a horrible
blogger, even worse in keeping up on Facebook and wishes she
could retire to New Orleans and eat beignets every day at Café
du Monde. Until then, she will write books about sexy men
loving each other.
Eleanor has been a professional business writer since 1989 and
an amateur fiction writer for over fifteen years. She was content
to stay that way until her friend H.L. Holston asked her to
collaborate on a short story. The rest, as they say, is history. She
is looking forward to writing many more books.