Spirit Sanguine (16 page)

Frank offered coffee, and Gabe accepted, to have the chance to look around alone. Books—many of them recognizably old—lined three out of four walls, only the window side escaping their invasion. An artful clutter of papers and more books covered a desk in the corner. None of the furniture looked like it’d been made in the last half a century. When Frank returned, they settled into a couple of dark leather armchairs, next to a spindly-legged table.

The coffee turned out to be espresso so strong it curled Gabe’s toes. He manfully suppressed a grimace and took a moment to study his host. Frank had a prominent nose, and the few silver strands in his otherwise deep black and close-cropped hair had frozen him in a permanent state of looking distinguished. Backed by the wall of books, he evoked the image of a college professor. Gabe felt an irrational loathing toward the man.

“What do you do for a living?” he asked.

Frank pursed his lips. No doubt he found Gabe’s inquiry coarse. “I translate books.”

“From English to French?”

“And vice versa. Also Italian and Greek.”

“Must pay well.”

“It took more than one lifetime to accumulate what you see around you.” He was only pointing out a fact, but to Gabe he seemed to be bragging.

“Frank doesn’t sound very French.”

“I was called François once, long time ago. Harvey mentioned you’d be looking for information about a murder.”

Gabe gritted his teeth at the reminder, but he handed over the snapshot of Paul Mayer. “Do you know him?”

The cup and saucer clonked against the table as Frank put them down to take the photo.

His gaze lingered on the picture. “Yes, Paul. I knew him well. Succulent young man—light and effervescent. I hope you find whoever killed him.”

“You saw him that night, correct?” Gabe managed not to sound too accusatory.

“If it was last Friday, then yes.” His eyes lost their focus for a moment, but then they snapped back sharper than before. “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re driving at. What reason would I have?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“None, I can assure you. In him I lost a casual but delightful acquaintance. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt Paul.”

It was a nice show, but Gabe wasn’t convinced. “Where were you the rest of that night?”

“Here, working. I had a deadline to meet.”

“So you only went out for a snack?”

“A man has to eat.”

Gabe cast around for anything he could use to disrupt the man’s good-mannered calm.

“Do you often change your name?”

Frank gave a calm nod. “Every couple of decades.”

“Why?”

“Out of necessity. When you don’t age, you need to relocate, reinvent yourself before people become suspicious. It’s rather tiresome. I’m surprised Harvey hasn’t told you this, but I guess you haven’t been together long.” His polite smile only made the jibe more irritating.

Gabe poked back. “How did you and Harvey meet? You don’t seem to be his type.”

“A mutual friend introduced us. Harvey was still in a delicate state. So young and so fresh. I wish I had known him before,” he waxed nostalgic.

“So you could feed on him?”

Frank’s eyes narrowed minutely. “Harvey’s right about you—you’re tenacious. I bet you’d taste like a rich Bordeaux.”

If that was a threat, Gabe wasn’t going to take it lying down. “Don’t expect to find out.”

“No, I suppose not. Pity. Anything else I can help you with?” Frank held Paul’s photo out between the tips of two outstretched fingers.

Gabe took the photo but immediately replaced it with a snapshot of Chrissy he’d obtained, also from Ellie. “Do you know her?”

Frank studied the picture. “No. Should I?”

Gabe snatched the picture back and stood.

“Is the interrogation over?” Frank asked. He leaned back in his chair with a smug smile. Or maybe that was his natural expression.

“Why did you and Harvey split up? He didn’t like you snacking around, did he?”

Frank returned Gabe’s near-snarl with an impassive look. “Our Harvey is an idealistic soul. Those notions are the privilege of youth. I wouldn’t want to take them away from him. However, he’s also impulsive and doesn’t share well. I’d watch my step, if I were you.”

“You don’t need to worry. Don’t get up; I’ll let myself out.”

Gabe was still fuming when he arrived back to the apartment. “I can’t believe you dated that putz,” he grumbled. He threw his jacket across a chair and slid next to Harvey on the sofa.

Harvey gave him a saucer-eyed, not-you-too look. The phone stuck to his ear like a barnacle. “No, Dill, I’m absolutely sure that’s not what he meant,” he said.

Unbuttoning his shirt, Gabe bristled with his unspoken grievances. Frank had rubbed him the wrong way many times over, and he couldn’t even gripe about it because Harvey’s ears were already occupied—one of them, anyway. Gabe started to realize he didn’t like sharing either. So he decided to lay claim to Harvey’s free ear, but his lips weren’t talking—not with words. At the same time, he slipped a hand under Harvey’s shirt, tracing his fingers to a nipple that immediately perked up under his touch. Harvey stifled a moan.

He kept on talking into the phone, though. “You’re whipping yourself into a f-fit again for no reason. Ugh.”

Gabe toyed with the nipple a bit more roughly. He also attempted to squeeze his other hand into the back of Harvey’s jeans, but it was a tight fit. Harvey arched off the sofa and undid his fly one-handed.

“Yess,” Harvey said as Gabe pushed his shirt up and employed his lips—and a bit of teeth—at Harvey’s up till then ignored other nipple. “I mean, yes, it’s perfectly reasonable for the guys to go out without you, every once in a while, and you don’t even like the opera.”

Pushing the coffee table aside, Gabe lowered himself between Harvey’s legs. Harvey lifted his hips so Gabe could tug his jeans down. A low moan escaped his throat as Gabe swallowed him down. He scrambled to cover it up with a cough.

“Didn’t Stan take you for a weekend getaway recently—only the two of you? Did Ray act like a jealous dimwit afterwards? Yes, it is exactly the same thing. Ooof!”

Gabe yanked Harvey forward so his ass was practically hanging off the sofa.

“Nothing, Dill. I stubbed my toe.” Pulling his knees up, he angled his ass for better access. “Go on.”

It wasn’t long before Harvey had to cover the receiver with his hand to block out his heavy breathing. Too bad it didn’t leave a hand free for his cock. Gabe snickered catching a glimpse at Harvey’s frustrated expression. He gave the neglected appendage a long, wet lick before returning to stretching Harvey’s hole with his tongue and fingers.

“Mmmaybe you should ass…sume he meant what he s-said. What? No! Gabe has definitely not been sexing me up while we were talking. I wouldn’t…” Harvey’s eyes opened wide as Gabe undid his own belt and flies and pushed his jeans down. His cock sprang forward between his shirttails, ready for action. Gabe dug the tiny bottle of lube out of his pocket and drizzled a small amount on his cockhead.

“Oh fuck. Sorry, Dill, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” The phone tumbled off into the cushions.

Not wasting time, Gabe lined himself up and pushed in, slow but steady. Harvey reached for Gabe with both hands, fingers scrambling for purchase, to draw Gabe in deeper. They groaned in unison.

They moved together with the pulse of sweaty and possessive passion. Harvey wound his limbs around Gabe and buried his face into Gabe’s neck. His moans were muffled by Gabe’s flesh. They rode the wave to its crest, then crashed down in a tangle of limbs.

“If I’d known meeting Frank would get you so worked up, I would’ve introduced you two sooner,” Harvey said, once his breathing returned to normal.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Gabe rolled off Harvey. Sitting at the edge of the sofa, he fumbled around for his underwear.

“Oh, right, like you weren’t marking your territory just now.” Harvey put his bare foot on Gabe’s back, slipping it under the shirt. He curled his toes to pinch the flesh.

“Was not,” Gabe protested.
Was he?
He stood to pull his briefs on, but then he sat back down.

Unlike him, Harvey made no effort to get dressed. He chuckled. “Right, Angel. It was hot and sweet. I don’t mind knowing you care. So what did you find out?”

“That your ex is a snooty frog.”

“Pfft. He’s not. Frank’s a decent guy. And I meant, what did you find out about the murder victim?”

“Not a thing I didn’t already know. Why did you break up?”

“He was too nice, if you wanna know. Nobody likes to be coddled all the time. So is Frank off your suspect list?”

“I didn’t say that. Did you dump Frank because he kept going out to feed on guys like Paul?”

“Maybe a little, but he’s from an older generation—they’re hard to change. Why would he want to kill Paul?”

“I don’t know. Why would anyone? I keep hoping the killer has a personal connection to the victims. If he’s a random stranger, it’ll be nearly impossible to catch him.”

“So you’re sure the two murders are related.”

“No, I’m not sure of anything.”

“Did you talk to Victor?”

“Yeah. He’s keeping an eye on what the police are doing, but he wants me to stay on the case too.”

Something hard dug into Gabe’s buttocks. He pulled it out from between the cushions. “Hey, I don’t think you turned off your phone.”

Harvey snatched it away from him. “Dill, hello? Phew. He must have hung up.”

Later that week, Gabe sat by the kitchen table, studying the latest police files from Augustine, when Dill showed up at the door, eyes red and face wet. Harvey pulled him inside, and immediately went into the nanny-mode Gabe had only seen when he was dealing with Dill. Within minutes they were on the sofa, Dill’s head in Harvey’s lap. Harvey was soothingly playing with Dill’s blond curls while Dill spun his tale of imagined woe. Gabe pretended mightily to be absorbed in his papers as Dill gave an account of his domestic life and his personal interpretation of recent events.

“…Then Ray said, if I uttered another peep about getting turned, he’d tan my hide. Stan took his side too.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, so at least Gabe didn’t have to. “We’ve talked about this before. You’re too young.”

Dill pouted. “I’ll always be young next to them. You don’t know what it’s like. They’ve been together forever; you only have to look at them to know they’re a couple. I don’t want to be jealous, but I am.”

“And why do you think being turned would change that?”

“It’s like a commitment, right? Then I’d really belong to them.”

“And they still will have been together for two centuries, and you with them for a year.”

If possible, Dill became even more crestfallen. “You’re right. I’ll never be one of them. I’m only a distraction.” He sniffed. “I love them so much!” He looked like he was about to start bawling again. “Oww! What did you do that for?” he cried when Harvey yanked his hair.

“You fuzzy-brained imbecile! You have no fucking idea how much they’ve put on the line for you.” Harvey appeared genuinely cross. The flash of fire in Harvey’s eyes reminded Gabe of the time Harvey had captured him. To his alarm, the memory of fear mixed with fresh thrill. It was so very wrong. He swiftly turned his attention back to the room.

“What do you mean?” Dill asked, much subdued. Maybe he had enough sense of self-preservation not to piss off a vampire—although judging from his history with his two lovers, probably not.

Harvey bit his lower lip and didn’t reply. Now Gabe was intrigued too.

“Harvey?” Dill sat up and stared at him.

Gabe was impressed how Dill’s Bambi-eyed gaze worked its magic on Harvey. Maybe if he mastered the same… No, not a chance.

Harvey let out a defeated sigh. “Dill, how many normal people do you know who know about vampires?”

Dill’s face wrinkled in intense concentration. “Gabe!” he proclaimed with a triumphant expression.

Harvey shook his head. “Gabe is not normal.”

“He’s not?”

“I’m not?” Gabe echoed Dill’s question.

Harvey looked from Dill to Gabe and back. “He’s got some sort of genetic mutation for starters, and he’s neither here nor there. Before Ray and Stan revealed themselves to you, you used to hang out in clubs and hook up with guys, right?”

“Yeah sure. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You went to the backrooms and bathroom stalls with them?”

“I did. So what? Don’t tell me you never have.”

“Some were better than others, right? Much better. And those ones always left love bites behind?”

“You mean those were all vamps?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out already.”

“I haven’t done any of that since I hooked up with the guys, and they only go to classy places. Only time I go clubbing is with you. Okay, so I’m thick. But what does all that have to do with anything?”

“Ray and Stan didn’t have to tell you what they were. They could’ve still kept you on. I know many vamps who do that. Telling you meant they take full responsibility for everything you do. It means they trust you, trust that you won’t blabber—”

“I wouldn’t!”

“You’re flightier than a hummingbird on crack. They wouldn’t have done it if they didn’t care about you.”

“Oh.” Dill’s befuddled expression turned into a big grin. He flung himself forward and planted a big, smacking kiss on Harvey’s lips. “I love you!”

“I love you too,” Harvey said gruffly. “If you drive yourself into a tizzy like this again, I’ll kick your pert little ass from here to the Canadian border.”

“Do you really mean it?”

“Of course.”

“I mean my ass being pert.” His cheeks still glistened with tears, but Dill was already back to his sparkly self.

“Of course. Ask Gabe if you don’t believe me. Gabe!”

“Yes?” Head in his papers, Gabe pretended he hadn’t been following the whole exchange.

“Dill’s ass?”

“Like a couple of piglets in a sack.”

“See I told you.”

Dill grinned but then turned serious. “I’d better get home before Stan and Ray do, or they’ll ream me, and not in the fun way.”