Apparitions Alex woke up to a faint scraping noise coming from somewhere overhead.
He stared up at the ceiling and suddenly he could hear a conversation from
upstairs almost as clear as if it was taking place in the same room.
A man was complaining about the idiot clerk down at the hardware store
and how bad traffic had been on the drive home. A woman gave sympathetic
responses and made kitchen noises—doors and drawers opening and closing,
water running, pans and dishes rattling—noises Alex shouldn't be able
to hear. As he shook his head and sat up, the sounds faded away back
out of his range and all he could hear was Trevor snoring lightly beside
him.
Alex looked down at the vampire with some amusement, and then got up
and went into the bathroom. He glanced at himself in the mirror and
was surprised to find that he looked pretty much the same as always.
The fact that he still had a reflection didn't strike him as odd until
he was standing in the square glass shower with hot water cascading over
his head. So he had to admit that he didn't know everything there
was to know about vampires, but he still knew plenty, like what the hunger
felt like.
He was feeling it right now, an aching emptiness in his stomach and
a fiery dryness in the back of his throat that no amount of water seemed
to satisfy. The fangs growing in his mouth cut his tongue and lips,
and the drops of blood from the tiny wounds didn't soothe his thirst so
much as make it more specific. He didn't want 'anything that would
stop the pain' anymore. He wanted blood, warm and savory and in great
quantities.
Finishing up his shower, he dried off, wrapped his towel around his
waist, and went into the other room. He strapped his arm on and then
put on his clothes, vaguely wishing he had some fresh ones. He'd
been in situations where he'd worn the same clothes for much longer than
two days before so it was not exactly a big deal, just a mild comfort issue.
As he was putting his knives back in their proper places, Trevor got out
of bed with a luxurious stretch and a jaw-cracking yawn.
"Going somewhere, my pet?"
"I'm hungry," Alex said with rather significant understatement, glancing
at the clock that read six-thirty.
"Let me get dressed and we'll go out for a bite." Trevor smiled,
presumably at his own perceived cleverness and disappeared into the bathroom.
Alex was towel-drying his hair and trying to focus his hearing on different
parts of the house, when the doorknob rattled as if someone had tried to
open it and found it locked. A few seconds and a couple of clicks
later, the door swung open and Joe walked in, bare-chested and carrying
an undetermined piece of clothing in his hand.
He seemed unconcerned to find Alex standing there with a knife in his
hand, just nodded a greeting and went to Trevor's closet. He rummaged
around briefly, finally taking out a black t-shirt and putting it on.
Trevor walked in as Joe was pulling a ragged black sweater over his head,
and said, "Is that my Jim Rose T-shirt?"
Joe stuck his head through the collar of his sweater and sneered.
"Like I'd steal clothes from your skinny ass."
"You would. You have no respect for other people's property."
"I left him alone, didn't I?" Joe tilted his head toward Alex,
who bristled at the implication that he was a thing to be taken or not.
He started to say something, but held his tongue, deciding it would be
better to wait until Joe actually made a move before proving that no one
did anything to Alex Krycek without his permission. He rubbed his
hand over his prosthetic arm and thought fiercely that never again would
he be at somebody else's mercy.
Trevor let that challenge lie, and changed the subject as he pulled
his own clothes on. "I thought I'd introduce Alex to the butcher
shop tonight. Would you like to join us?"
"I prefer mine on the hoof," said Joe with an unlikely wink in Alex's
direction. "But yeah, sure, I'll go."
Alex remained silent while Joe and Trevor continued to talk and get
ready to go out. He could have contributed to the conversation, at
least enough to remind Joe that he did in fact have a name, but the hunger
was starting to consume more and more of his attention. He found
himself staring at Joe's neck as the other man fiddled with one of his
earrings and remembering how the skin had given way as his brand new fangs
had punctured it. How the blood had erupted gently onto his tongue
and slid so satisfyingly down his throat.
Swallowing as his mouth started to water, Alex pulled his gaze away
from Joe's neck only for it to snag on one of Trevor's pale wrists as he
reached for his coat. Fragile bones, blue-green veins just under
the surface of fine pale skin, just the slightest prick of his teeth and
he'd have a mouthful of that warm blood that he could see pulsing, pulsing,
racing through those tiny—delectable—veins. Almost entranced by
the promise of nourishment, he reached out for it, but a big hand caught
his in a strong grip.
"Not just yet, junior." Joe shook his head and then looked over
at Trevor and said, "We better get going before he gnaws somebody's arm
off."
Trevor's smile had an edge of compassion as he nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry,
pet. I should have known you'd be very hungry by now. Let's
get moving."
As he followed Trevor and Joe out into the hallway, Alex felt compelled
to mention, "There are people in the house upstairs. I heard them.
Do they know about us?"
"They're my caretakers. They pay the bills, keep up the repairs,
and attend all those bothersome daytime details," said Trevor, locking
the door behind them.
"So if they're your servants, why are you the one living in a room in
the basement?"
"I'm not actually here that often. Joe and a few other friends
also use the rooms when they're in town. The Marshalls run daytime
errands, do laundry, et cetera, in exchange for free housing, a monthly
check, and being assured that none of the guests will try to drain them."
Trevor locked the outside door behind them and smiled at Alex. "Maybe
I'll give you a key before you leave."
"I wouldn't need one if I really wanted in."
"Yes. Well, consider it a courtesy, or just an intelligent choice
not to piss off someone who can rip your throat out." Trevor smiled
sweetly and lengthened his stride to catch up with Joe, who was already
standing on the sidewalk lighting a cigarette.
Turning the threat over in his mind, Alex caught up with the other two
men, who had started walking down the snow-covered sidewalk at a quick
pace. After about a mile, they found a cab to take them to a different
part of town, less middle-class residential and more lower-class desperate.
The cab let them out at a corner, and Joe took the lead, striding down
the street with a predatory grace that Alex almost admired.
Trevor and Alex followed him into an abandoned building, their eyes
adjusting to the darkness until Alex was surprised at how clearly he could
see. He could also smell quite clearly and that was not such a blessing
since the building had obviously been used as a squat for a very long time.
He found that if he concentrated on something else— the hunger burning
in his throat, the sight of Joe's solid bulk in front of him, the feel
of Trevor next to him—the stench faded to a more normal human range.
Joe walked up to a skinny kid of indeterminate sex and leaned close,
running his fingers down its arms and whispering into its ear. By
the time Alex focused his hearing, Joe had already stopped talking and
started sucking.
The wet, slurpy sound of blood being sucked and swallowed by someone
else while he was almost starving to death goaded Alex into action.
He stalked over to Joe, intent on taking the kid away, but a noise drew
his attention to the other side of the room. Another kid, more obviously
male, was trying to edge his way to the door, but he froze when he locked
eyes with Alex. Alex walked over and took the boy's face in his hands.
Wide eyes stared up at him, and Alex caught an apology trying to slip past
his own lips before he lowered his head and sank his teeth into the kid's
neck. The rush of blood was like ambrosia and orgasm and everything
good that had ever happened to him in his life. He sucked and swallowed
and ignored the little flashes he got of the kid's pitiful life.
Abuse and poverty, fear and anger, hustling and stealing to survive...
he could have guessed all that just from seeing the kid in his present
habitat.
Alex tried to shake off the hand that clamped down on his shoulder,
but the fingers dug in and Trevor's voice broke into his consciousness.
"That's enough, Alex. You don't have to kill him."
Alex licked the wound without having to be told and withdrew, letting
the boy slump down against the wall with a blissful smile on his face and
wet spot on the front of his pants. Trevor leaned down and pressed
two fingers to the boy's neck. After a moment, he straightened and
said, "I think you stopped just in time, my pet."
Alex nodded and licked at a sticky spot beside his mouth. His
teeth were going back to normal, the hunger was finally sated, and he felt
normal for the first time since his change. He turned and found Joe
smoking a cigarette and looking rather fondly down at his own victim.
Joe grinned when he noticed Alex watching him. "I like the junkies
who've just scored best. You get that second-hand high. Nice,
eh?"
Alex shrugged and did a quick inventory of his senses. If the
kid he'd drunk from had been on anything, Alex wasn't feeling any residual
effects so far. He did notice that Joe was checking him out, but
he didn't say anything as Trevor appeared beside them. "If we're
through here..."
"Yeah, yeah." Joe dropped his cigarette on the floor and ground
his boot heel into it. He slapped Alex lightly on the back as they
walked out. "It just gets better and better, don't it?"
Alex gave Joe a sideways glance, noticing the substantial bulge of his
erection behind the fly of his jeans. He couldn't help but wonder
how the other man would be. Alex instinctively knew that the only
way he'd want to fuck with Joe was with his newfound power behind it.
And powerful was exactly how he felt right now. Strong, fast, like
he could do anything at all.
Like he could make some people pay for the things they've done to him.
Not those ignorant Russian peasants, oh no, the ones right here at home.
The smoking bastard, some of those left over old fucks in New York...Mulder.
Or maybe not Mulder. When it came right down to it, just what had
Mulder ever done to him? Beat him up a little? Nothing that
Alex hadn't allowed or deserved in some way or another. It was all
give and take with him. That double-dealing Morley-smoking son of
a bitch was another story altogether.
Only vaguely aware that they'd been walking, Alex was jarred out of
his musings when Trevor stopped and knocked on a door. He looked
around and noticed they were in an alley behind a row of old buildings,
and the door was the exact same color as the fading bricks. Vampires
must all be masters of camouflage and wouldn't he fit right in with them?
After all, that was what he was all about, blending, fading, hiding in
plain sight.
Joe was giving him that lustful scrutiny again, as if he was not only
mentally undressing Alex but judging his performance too. From the
gleam in Joe's eyes, Alex guessed that he must have passed whatever test
he'd just been given.
Just as a small panel opened in the door, Trevor glanced over his shoulder
and said, "For pity's sake, Joe, could you stick to just taking my clothes?"
"It's a free fucking country." Joe showed his teeth, but Alex
wouldn't have called the expression a smile.
"I'll do whatever or whoever I want, whenever I want. Both of
you can stop treating me like an object," Alex said with an air of boredom,
baring his own teeth in challenge.
He was gratified to see Trevor take a small step back before he raised
his eyebrows and nodded. "Yes. Well." He turned to the
door. "Well, Roland, now that we've entertained you, how about letting
us in for a drink?"
A deep rumbling laugh met the men as the door opened wide. A large
man clapped Trevor on the shoulder as he stepped through the door.
"You always pick the lively ones, brother."
"Roland, this is Alex. I'm sure he'll make an excellent customer,
but be careful patting him down. The boy likes his sharp things."
Trevor turned to Alex as he stepped into the entranceway and suggested
he hand over his weapons before Roland searched him. "Otherwise,
you can't come any further."
After a moment of considering to refuse, Alex laid his gun and a knife
on a small table next to the door. Trevor cast a significant glance
at his feet and Alex reluctantly handed over the knife in his boot, too.
Roland nodded with approval and then proceeded to pat him down anyway.
"Sorry, but I can't trust you yet. I'm sure you understand.
Have fun, boys. And Joe, don't flirt with my wife. You're not
her type."
"That's not what she says." Joe winked and sauntered down the
stairs like he owned the place. Hell, maybe he did.
Alex followed Trevor down the stairs and through another door into what
looked like a small liquor store. Only most of the stock was refrigerated
and red. Alex stared at the cases in confusion. "Why would
you pay good money for some cold crap in a bottle when you can get it fresh
anytime you want? This whole city is a buffet full of tasty little
dishes walking around, ours for the taking."
"Some have moral qualms about feeding from humans, and some like the
convenience of eating at home." Trevor shrugged. "It's just
an option, and now that you know about it, we can go have that drink."
Alex nodded to the man behind the counter who hadn't said a word and
followed Trevor across the hall and into a bar. This one was nice,
but not done up in the vampire trappings of Clea's place. It looked
like a bar you'd find in a hotel or in a quiet neighborhood where most
of the clientele are regulars. Soft rock music played on the old-fashioned
jukebox at a lower volume than in most bars, and the room was over half
full.
Joe stood at the end of the bar sipping from a glass of whiskey and
saying something that made the red-haired bartender laugh before she moved
away to take an order from a waitress. Alex joined him and ordered
a vodka as soon as the bartender came back.
"Sure thing, honey." She looked over his shoulder and her smile
widened into a delighted grin. "Trevor, when did you hit town?"
"Scottie, my darling, I couldn't go another day without seeing your
sweet face." Trevor grabbed her hand and placed a smacking kiss on
the back.
Scottie rolled her eyes and took her hand back. "Yeah, right.
Did you get bored with this old punk—" she tilted her head toward Joe
"—and make yourself a new running buddy?"
"Hey, bite your tongue—or I can do it for you," said Joe, emptying
his glass and sliding it toward her for a refill. Alex had trouble
believing that anyone could be bored with Joe around.
"And there you have it." Trevor laughed and ran his hand down
Alex's fake arm. "Alex has his own charms."
Scottie gave Alex a look that he often got from women and sighed.
"Yeah, I can just imagine."
"Can I get a shot of A Neg when you stop drooling over my pet?
"Don't underestimate me, Trevor. I can do both." She winked
at Alex and then moved away to fill their orders.
"I take it that was Roland's wife that Joe's not supposed to flirt with?"
Alex asked with an arched brow.
Trevor nodded and seemed about to speak until he got distracted.
He stared at a couple in one of the booths along the wall and smiled.
He took the glass that Scottie set in front of him and said, "You boys
behave. I need to go to talk to a man about some business.
I've been trying to sell old Harry a property in the south of France for
ages, and maybe tonight we can come to a mutually satisfying agreement."
Alex watched Trevor walk over and take a seat in the booth with a well-dressed
man and woman who looked more suited to Wall Street or Lakeshore Drive
than an underground vampire bar. He turned back to Joe. "So
Trevor owns property. What do you do for a living?"
"Living. That's a good one," said Joe with a snort. He took
a long drink from his glass and lit a cigarette. "I get by."
He blew out a cloud of smoke and said off handedly, "I used to have a band."
"Yeah? Before?" Alex looked at Joe's face closely to see
if maybe he recognized him, but he got distracted when his gaze slipped
down to Joe's neck. That spot right there, just above the black
cord of his necklace was the place where Alex sank his fangs in and drank
his fill. If not as much as he'd wanted, at least he got enough to
calm the hunger for a few hours.
"Yeah. Before." Joe took a long drag off his cigarette and
shot Alex a look from the corner of his eye. "Stop staring at my
neck...unless you want me to fuck you."
Alex took a sip of his drink and tried to think of something to talk
about that didn't involve fucking or drinking blood. Strange how
those two urges seemed to be taking up so much space in his mind at the
moment. Usually he had so many more important things going on that
sex had been an afterthought, but now... "Maybe I want to fuck you
instead."
"Ha. I don't fucking think so." Joe crushed out his cigarette
and then looked up, all the amusement draining out of his face as his gaze
locked on something over Alex's shoulder. "Billy." The word
slipped out so softly that Alex doubted Joe knew he'd spoken it.
Alex glanced around, but didn't notice anyone staring back at Joe or
paying either of them the slightest bit of attention at all. There
was something familiar about the blond man who had just walked up to the
middle of the bar. Angular features, rangy build, thick, spiky hair—where
had he...? Of course. Alex had seen him from a much greater
distance before. He was Trevor's cop. What did he call him?
Ray? Yeah, Ray. He turned back to say something about it to
Joe, but noticed that it was Ray that the other man was staring at so intently.
"Billy." Joe whispered again, his eyes narrowing as if a sudden
pain struck him.
"Trevor said his name was Ray. You know that guy from somewhere?"
Joe shook his head and stared at Alex as if just noticing his presence.
"What?"
"I said, Trevor showed me that guy last night and called him 'Ray'."
"Ray? Huh." Joe looked at the man sipping a glass of blood
and shook his head again. "Looks like Billy to me."
"Who the hell is Billy?" Alex asked, exasperated with this whole bizarre
conversation.
"None of your fucking business, junior." Joe dug around in his
pocket and then tossed some crumpled bills on the bar. He grabbed
Alex by the lapel of his coat and pulled him into his personal space.
He smelled like whiskey, blood, and something dark and hot that tightened
Alex's gut. "We're gettin' outta here. Let Trevor catch up
when he's done with his business."
Alex licked his lips and ignored the tug on his libido long enough to
protest. "Stop calling me that. My name is Alex."
"I'm so fucking sorry, Alex." Joe spoke with exaggerated mocking
politeness, even as he slipped one thigh between Alex's legs, rubbing against
Alex's sudden erection. "Please, Alex...unless you wanna give everyone
a really exciting floor show?"
Alex blinked and stepped back, shaking Joe's hand loose. "I don't
have to do anything you say."
"No." Joe cast a significant glance at his crotch, and lifted
Alex's upper lip. Before Alex had a chance to smack his hand away, he dropped
it again. "Now you've bared your fangs and growled at me. Feel
better?" He tilted his head toward the door. "You know you
want to..."
This time, Alex led the way out into the hall and up the stairs.
By the time they got to the top, Roland had his weapons already out and
Alex put them away efficiently, nodding at Roland's amiable good night.
Once out in the cold night air, Joe stuck his hand in the waistband
of Alex's pants and pulled him down the alley and into the deeper shadows
next to a dumpster. For just a moment, Alex's new more acute senses
rebelled and sent the vodka rolling in his stomach. He held his breath
until he felt like he had it under control, but by then Joe had him pressed
up against the wall with one arm braced on the bricks next to his head
and the stench of garbage was the last thing on his mind.
"I don't kiss," Joe said against Alex's cheek as his free hand worked
its way into his pants. Then he took Alex's mouth in a deep kiss
that seared his nerve endings and made him squirm against Joe's body.
When Joe released Alex's mouth long enough to take a breath, the sensual
fog in Alex's head cleared enough for him to say, "You kissed me before.
And you kissed Trevor."
"Yeah, but I didn't fucking like it." Joe licked Alex's lips
and then nipped at his chin, his hand busy on Alex's cock.
Alex shifted his hips, pressing deeper into Joe's grasp as he worked
his good hand between them. "Liar."
"Shut the fuck up." Joe reached down and put Alex's hand on the
fly of his jeans, and then took his mouth in another deep kiss, cutting
off Alex's low laugh with his tongue. Alex took that advice to heart
and concentrated all his attention on trying to get inside Joe's jeans
and then...he was in, wrapping his hand around a thick, hard erection.
He squeezed hard enough to make Joe rise up on his toes, but then he pushed
Alex against the wall and started stroking Alex's cock fast and rough.
Alex tilted his head back and Joe immediately took the hint, biting
into his jugular with a little growling noise that quickly became a wet
slurping. The sharp pain muted and transformed into a rush of pleasure
that ran from Alex's neck to his cock like an electrical charge, setting
him off in convulsive orgasm. A moment later, Joe's dick swelled
and stiffened in his grip, spitting warm come into the fingers he cupped
around the head as Joe withdrew his fangs and licked the wound until it
closed.
Pulling his fingers out of Alex's pants, Joe stuck them in his mouth
and sucked them clean, holding Alex's gaze the whole time. Alex pulled
his hand free and started to do the same, but Joe grabbed it and took Alex's
fingers into his own mouth, running his soft, wet tongue over the tips
and down into the sensitive crevices between, sucking up every trace of
come.
Alex's teeth were at full fang and he was panting from the effects of
his orgasm and the need to bite. He wanted another taste of Joe's
blood so bad and he was going to get it just as soon as Joe let go of his
fingers.
The slam of a door was like a shotgun blast in the charged silence between
the two men. Joe stepped back and spun around ready for a fight before
he realized it was only someone leaving the butcher shop. He peered
around the edge of the dumpster and saw Billy walking down the alley toward
them holding a paper sack. Joe stiffened and felt like he'd been
kicked in the balls.
As Billy drew even with their position, Joe stepped out of the shadows
and spoke in a low voice. "Billy."
Billy stopped and looked at Joe in surprise. "Excuse me?"
"Where the fuck have you been, Billy?" Joe asked, his voice as rough
as sandpaper in his throat.
"My name's not Billy. It's Ray." Billy spoke slowly and
politely, fucking with Joe's head again. "Am I supposed to know you
or something?"
Joe squinted at him and walked closer. Billy looked just the same.
His voice sounded a little different, maybe because he quit smoking and
screaming so much. Didn't matter. He was back.
"What are you doing?" Taking a step back that was probably instinctive,
Billy shot a confused look over Joe's shoulder, but Joe couldn't be bothered
to see if he was looking at Alex or something else. "What's he talking
about?"
"I have no—" Alex tried to answer, but was interrupted by a low growl
and a voice calling Ray's name from somewhere behind them. Joe turned
to see a Mountie and a large white dog that looked like a wolf advancing
cautiously. The dog was crawling on its belly but still growling,
as if submission was not its own idea.
"Stay the fuck away." Joe snarled at both men and the animal.
All three froze right where they were.
"It's okay, Fraser. We got a case of mistaken identity is all."
Billy gave Joe a cautious look and started to walk around him, but there
was no fucking way he'd let Billy go. He grabbed him before Billy
could get away...again.
"The fuck it is, Billy," Joe snapped, jerking Billy closer to him.
Billy was harder than he remembered, but he still felt like Billy and smelled
like Billy and Joe would be damned if he'd let him go again.
As Billy struggled against him, Joe closed his eyes and just absorbed
the familiar feeling. He could hear the Mountie coming closer and
speaking. Alex talked back to him, but what they said was inconsequential
because he finally had Billy back. He kept struggling, so Joe turned
him loose and took the sack from his hand.
"For the last time, my name is not Billy," the man was sounding agitated
but he didn't fight anymore. Billy knew how far to push and when
to give in.
Joe set the sack down on the ground, straightened to his full height
and advanced on Billy again knowing that when it came right down to basics,
Billy wouldn't deny him.
His eyes widened as Joe shoved him against a wall, sinking his teeth
into Billy's neck as his arms wrapped around him tightly. The images
that flowed into Joe's mind as the blood flowed down his throat were completely
unfamiliar to him. He saw this man graduating from a police academy
and getting married to some blonde woman. What the fuck? Joe
saw Trevor turning him, saw him fucking Trevor and then he was fucking
another dark haired man that was not Joe. It was that Mountie and
he was saying "Ray" over and over again.
A hand grabbed the back of his head and jerked a handful of hair viciously
until Joe ripped his fangs free and stumbled back.
"Ray!" The Mountie's cry barely registered over the harsh sound
of his own breathing.
Ignoring the blood dripping from the side of his mouth, Joe shuddered.
He was pissed off all over again at his loss. The fucking nerve of
that guy looking like Billy—his Billy. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Well, I'm not Billy, ya freak. That's what I tried to tell
you," Ray yelled back, clamping his hand over the still bleeding holes
in his throat. "If I bleed out, I'm gonna come back and kick your
ass."
"Ray?" Fraser asked, a frantic edge in his voice. "Are you all
right?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine, Frase." Ray dragged his eyes away from Joe
long enough to smile weakly at Fraser. "Just calm Dief down before
he has a doggie coronary or something."
While Fraser crouched down and tried to soothe his dog, Alex moved over
beside Joe and asked, "You all right now? What the hell was that
about?"
After a long silent moment, Joe walked away, making a wide circle around
the man he'd just accosted. He clenched his jaw to keep from screaming
as Alex caught up with him. Joe glanced at him coldly and said, "Ghosts."
Alex nodded. "Yeah, I've got a few of those."
"No." Alex couldn't possibly know. Joe spat on the ground
and rubbed at the blood on his face. The little fucker was supposed
to come back. It was just supposed to be a little break. Billy'd
go off and have his little tantrum in Califuckinfornia, and then he'd come
back and he and Joe would be good again.
Billy didn't come back. Driving under the influence. That's
what they called it. Why didn't they just tell the fucking truth?
'Your buddy cracked his car up 'cause he was too fuckin' drunk to drive.'
Never gonna see that on an accident report. Without breaking stride,
Joe dug around in his coat pocket until he pulled out a pack of cigarettes
and a silver Zippo lighter. He flicked open the lighter, struck the
flame, and stared at it for a second inside the protective cup of his hand
before lighting a smoke. He tried not to see any comparisons when
he clicked the lighter shut and the flame went out.
They walked for a few minutes before Alex broke the silence. "Well,
why don't you then?"
Joe laughed bitterly, hating to admit the truth, but not enough to think
up a lie. "Fucking hate fire. I don't wanna burn. A nice
clean bullet. That's the way I'd wanna go out. But it's too
late for that, eh?"
"There's always the stake." As they approached an intersection,
Alex glanced up at the signs and took a right turn onto another street.
"A stake's just as efficient as a bullet."
"I know." Joe said, reaching into another pocket and finding the
sharp piece of wood he'd been carrying around for the last six months.
He'd spent hours whittling it until it was just right, and now he just
waited for the right time to use it. The right time to put himself
out of his fucking misery. He pulled it out far enough for Alex to
see and then returned it.
"If you need help..."
"Don't be so fuckin' eager, jun- Alex. Maybe I need to think
about it first." He looked over at Alex and felt his mood lighten
a bit. Anticipation pushed out all the depressing shit. "Maybe I
have a couple things left to do first. I still haven't fucked you
yet."
Alex grinned and shook his head. "That bit in the alley wasn't
enough for you?"
"Fuck no," Joe scoffed. "That was nowhere close to a real fuck."
"I agree, but for a different reason." Alex didn't explain and
Joe didn't ask him to. They just kept walking, while Alex checked
street signs for their next turn.
After a several blocks and a couple more cigarettes, Joe finally asked
where they were going, although the destination didn't make much difference
to him. He could fuck Alex just about anywhere, but hearing that
they were headed for Alex's hotel did make him pick up the pace a bit.
As they walked along, something occurred to Joe. Maybe he'd picked
it up when drinking Alex's blood or just from Alex's manner, but he knew
for certain. "You asked for it."
Alex glanced at him and seemed to know what he meant. "I did,
and I don't regret it. What about you? Did you ask for it?"
Joe didn't answer until they were almost to the doors of the hotel,
and then it was with great reluctance. "Yeah, but... not exactly
like this."
"You mean you wanted Billy...?" Alex gasped a little as the warm
air of the lobby hit him in the face with almost painful intensity.
The cold hadn't particularly bothered him when he was out in it, but now
he realized his skin must be nearly frozen. Joe didn't seem to notice
so he must have grown used to not being overly affected by outside temperatures.
"It was too late." Joe shrugged and his eyes seemed to shutter,
telling Alex not to pursue the conversation any farther. In fact,
it was obvious that the further they stayed from the subject of Billy,
the better off they'd be. Whoever he was to Joe—friend, lover or
whatever, he was also a barely healed scab that still bled no matter who
picked at it.
In the elevator, Alex decided he would take Joe's mind off Billy and
Ray and everybody else in the world. After all, this could be the
last time they ever saw each other and for some reason that he couldn't
fathom, Alex wanted to make a lasting impression.
As they were walking down the hall, Joe stopped and grinned. "Listen,"
he said. "Room 512. You hear that perverted shit? Sounds
like she got out the whip...no, wait, that's a riding crop. Ten bucks
says he's one of these rich old businessmen and she's a pro."
Alex had focused his hearing on the room in question, but now he shook
his head. "I wouldn't take that bet. She's definitely a pro.
She's got all the moves and the talk down pat."
"You know this from experience? Been paying for your kinks?"
Joe smirked at him as they continued down the hall where Alex unlocked
his door.
"I never pay." Alex pulled Joe into the room with him and slammed
him back against the door as it closed. "I take." Then he latched
onto Joe's mouth before the other man could say anything, because really,
there was nothing else to talk about anyway. He thrust his tongue
between Joe's lips and immediately cut it on the razor tip of a fang.
He pulled back and the crimson streak of his blood shining on Joe's bottom
lip sent a bolt of lust and hunger through him.
Looking into Joe's arousal darkened eyes, Alex stepped back and started
to undress, dropping his coat and sweater carelessly on the floor.
He stopped with his hand on the zipper of his pants. "What are you
waiting for? A court order?"
Joe bent down and took off his boots, then started taking his clothes
off slowly and methodically. He gave Alex's prosthetic arm one curious
glance and then seemed to forget about it as he pulled him close for a
long rough kiss. Alex couldn't help but notice that for someone who
professed not to like kissing, Joe was good at it. He kissed hard
and demanding like a man who knows he's with a man who can take it...or
something like that. Alex's brain was shutting down and metaphorical
thought was beyond him.
Moving them both toward the bed, Joe pushed Alex's hand away and dealt
with his pants himself. He peeled the leather down Alex's hips and
shoved him back onto to the bed. With the still half-clothed Joe
looming over him, Alex found himself in the same situation he'd been in
with Trevor the night before and decided that this experience would be
different. Reaching up and grabbing Joe's waistband, he tugged him
down on the bed and climbed on top of him.
"You still owe me a drink," Alex reminded the man watching him silently
and then he leaned in to Joe's neck and sniffed. Smoke and whiskey,
musky male and the lingering smell of blood and sex, Joe's scent went straight
to Alex's cock. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deeper breath and
then licked the smooth skin right over the big throbbing artery in his
neck. And then it was so easy to just let his fangs cut through that
fragile barrier and swallow the blood, hot and salty with that odd vampiric
sweetness that he was growing to love, flowing over his lips and tongue.
With a husky groan, Joe arched his hips up into Alex's, grinding their
erections together. Alex thrust his hips down and withdrew his fangs,
moaning with the pleasure of increased friction as he licked every last
drop of blood from Joe's skin. It must have been enough because he
could feel the achy itch in his gums that meant his teeth were returning
to normal.
Since he was focused on what was going on inside his mouth, Alex was
taken by surprise when Joe suddenly reared up and flipped him over on his
back. Alex waited until Joe had wrestled both their pants completely
off without ever giving up his position, and then he rolled Joe over again.
Staring down in triumph, Alex propped himself up on his prosthetic arm
so he could rub his good hand down Joe's chest and over the slight curve
of his stomach.
Before Alex reached his groin, Joe reversed their positions once more
and grinned as he worked Alex's thighs apart. Alex grinned back as
he silently accepted the challenge and raised his knees high enough to
bracket Joe's hips. Clamping his legs tight around Joe, he used his
lower body strength to roll them both over.
In all their wrestling, Alex failed to notice how close to the edge
of the bed they'd come until they crashed to the floor. As his back
hit the carpet, the air whooshed out of Joe's lungs along with one predictable
word. Alex had to second the curse when the shock registered in his
knees and his arm.
"All right, playtime's over. You wanna be on top? Fine,"
Joe said calmly, if rather breathlessly. He grabbed Alex's hips in
a bruising grip, pushing and pulling until he had the head of his cock
against Alex's ass.
Just as he started to press inside, Alex said, "Wait just a minute."
Joe started to shake his head, but Alex insisted. "Just a fucking
minute, okay?"
"What the fuck for?"
"Lube." Alex started to get up and get his bag, but Joe held onto
him tightly.
"I got it." Slowly, as if afraid Alex was going to bolt, Joe took
one hand off Alex's hip and brought it to his own mouth. He parted
his lips until Alex could see his teeth lengthening into fangs, and then
he raked one sharp tip across his palm. Blood filled his cupped hand
quickly as he moved his hand down and rubbed the liquid on his cock.
"That's not very—" Alex shut up as thick wet fingers worked their way
inside him, stretching and widening him until the slight pain became pleasure.
The fingers raked over his prostate and were gone again before the sound
of his moan had faded. The hand between his legs was replaced by
the broad head of Joe's cock pushing into him in one long stroke.
"Go for it, top boy. Show me what you got," Joe growled as he
pulled back just a little before thrusting in even deeper. Before
Alex could raise himself up for a more controllable angle, Joe grabbed
Alex's cheek, smearing the blood over his skin from ear to lips.
He lunged up and planted a quick deep kiss on his mouth, then turned Alex
loose.
Licking his lips, Alex could taste the salt of sweat and blood around
the edges as he raised up and then plunged down again, setting a hard and
fast rhythm. The rapid friction soon wore away the thin layer of
blood that was supposed to smooth the way, but by then Alex didn't care
that he was being rubbed raw. He'd heal. The pain just added
another dimension to the pleasure.
Joe wrapped a hand around Alex's erection, callused fingers stroking,
stroking, finding all the most sensitive spots as if guided by radar.
Working him hard and rough, Joe seemed to know by the way Alex fucked him
exactly what he needed. And it was...it was perfect, and Alex managed
to clench down hard on Joe's cock in return just before he came, shooting
in a pink-tinged arc onto Joe's chest.
Joe came a couple of seconds later with a groan and a shudder that shook
his entire body. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his brow
was furrowed, like pleasure somehow hurt him. Alex shook off the
odd thought as he tried to get his breath back.
Shakily raising up so that Joe's cock could slip free, Alex started
to get up, but Joe stopped him with a hand on his back, urging him down
until his head lay on Joe's chest. Joe rubbed his hand up and down
Alex's back absently as if his mind was a million miles away. For
a moment, Alex wondered if he'd just been a substitute for Billy—or Ray,
for that matter. Not that it concerned him much one way or the other
outside of idle curiosity.
Before he met Trevor, Alex hadn't come close to being affected by another
person in at least a year. Or whenever it was that he last saw Mulder,
otherwise known, in the privacy of his mind at least, as Alex's Potentially
Fatal Weak Spot. His contempt for Mulder grew out of the very real
probability that the man would be the end of Alex, in one way or another.
Yet, he remained helplessly fascinated, and endlessly grateful that the
Smoking Man hadn't caught on to all the nuances of Alex's obsession with
the object of Smokey's obsession. Mulder.
Old Smokey needed to be brought down, and not just for Mulder.
Alex smiled against Joe's shoulder as he thought about this advantage he
finally had over the bastard. He chuckled as he imagined just what
all he could do now, how much stronger and faster he was, how much sharper
his senses. The Smoking Man wouldn't get away from him.
"What's so funny?" Joe pushed at Alex until he sat up.
Alex pulled himself up onto the side of the bed. "Nothing.
Just making plans for when I leave Chicago."
"Yeah? When's that going to be?" Joe climbed to his feet
and stood there for a moment looking a little unsteady. Scrubbing
his hands over his face, he glanced around and then walked over to his
clothes. He scrounged around until he withdrew a red and white pack
of cigarettes.
Alex grinned and watched him light a smoke and walk naked into the bathroom.
"Soon, I think. I have some business that needs to be taken care
of."
"Business, eh?" Joe asked as he came back out looking clean and
carrying a wet washcloth that he tossed at Alex. "What do you do?"
Alex caught the cloth and started to clean the blood off his face.
"You couldn't tell?"
"Nah." Joe put on his jeans and Trevor's T-shirt before shrugging
and admitting, "I didn't get much from you. Mostly the arm and some
dark place. It was cold and you couldn't get out."
Alex finished washing and then got up to find some clean clothes.
He pulled on boxers and black wool pants, concentrating on the mundane
tasks in order to control the nausea that washed over him whenever he thought
of the silo. Joe had it right. It had been dark and cold, but
that barely scratched the surface of what it had been like, the terror
and helplessness of being locked in with a...a creature that could take
him over again anytime it wanted. The hopelessness... He shook
his head and buried it deep inside him. Just as he always did.
After careful consideration, Alex took a shirt out of the closet.
As he worked the sleeve over his prosthetic arm, he smiled at Joe who sat
on a chair lighting a fresh cigarette and said as casually as possible,
"I mostly kill people."
Joe clicked his lighter shut and took a deep drag on his cigarette.
"Yeah? Cool."
Alex stared at him nonplussed. "You're not even a little surprised?"
"I'm a fucking vampire." Joe laughed and blew out a thin stream
of smoke. "Not much surprises me anymore."
Alex nodded with a wry smile. "Yeah, guess not."
"So you're some kinda what—assassin?"
"More a jack of all trades, but most of those trades tend toward the
violent."
"Why?" Joe had a cynical twinkle in his eyes.
"To stay alive."
Joe snorted and ran his fingers through his spiky hair. "That
is the problem, isn't it?" He stood up, crushed out his cigarette in
ashtray on the table, and put his coat on. "Good luck. Stay
outta the sun."
"I'd wish you the same, but I don't think you'd appreciate it."
"You'd be right." With a little nod, Joe opened the door and walked
out into the hallway.
"See you around, Joe." Alex shut the door and wondered if he ever
would see him again. He kind of hoped so. If they never crossed
paths again, he'd have to assume Joe succeeded in his self-destruction.
He couldn't dwell on the empty feeling of disappointment that thought gave
him. He had things to do.
Permanent Midnight
IX
by Amy B
Drained and blue
I bleed for you
You think it's funny
Well, you're drowning in it too
—"No Excuses", Alice in Chains
He looked at Alex for the first time. "Now you know." He
could see in the other man's face that he had no clue what Joe was talking
about, but he continued as if he did. "I drink and fuck around and
feed off junkies and try like hell to forget. That's what I do.
Until I get up the fucking guts to walk out into the sunlight."
