Last Chance (16 page)

And Stu's brother was a strange one. Corbin made him uncomfortable with those all-seeing eyes. And Stu, well…Stu made him confront emotions he'd thought long dead. Stu's coming on to him in the lab the first time had been unexpected and unbelievably sexy. Not at all reticent, Stu had sent shock waves through Aric. A bitter yet wonderful mingling of bodies and blissful release. Sex between them continued to be amazing, and Aric didn't know if he had the strength to walk away.

The laptop's fan hummed, a reminder of why he'd sat at the desk in the first place. He wanted to do a quick search for information on Kresniks—a better way to pass the time than tossing and turning in bed, thinking of one particular handsome jock. He typed “Kresnik” into the search engine but was disappointed to find only a few sites flashing on the screen. He clicked on one site claiming the vampire slayers originated in the north Adriatic peninsula of Istria and the islands off its coast. Croatian and Slovenian folklore stemmed from their shamanic origins. Those born with a caul were destined for the life of a Kresnik.

He continued to read, learning how training began at age seven. He pictured a young Stu studying the ways of killing a vampire with wooden stakes and the properties of salt, but somehow the image didn't fit the blond, blue-eyed football player. Too clean-cut, too naive, too…perfectly normal. Except for claiming the status of a vampire slayer. And having a weird brother who showed up wearing a black ninja suit. Definitely not normal stuff.

He cradled the back of his neck with his hands. Suddenly exhausted, he spied his clock on the nightstand. The digital read 3:10. Another deep sigh escaped him. He taught class tomorrow, and he would be in no shape to think straight if he didn't get some sleep.

He closed his eyes and rested for a few minutes, clearing his mind. Noises were amplified in the dark. The sound of car tires whizzed down the street; a cat's paws scampered across the flat roof. He sat up, startled. The sound of an owl hooting turned his stomach.

Was he here? Had Johan finally come to claim him?

He stepped away from the desk and crouched near the edge of the windowsill to peek out into the yard. Nothing stirred. Scanning the square, grassy expanse, he clamped his fingers onto the sill, and his knuckles began to ache from gripping so hard. The strix had to be watching him. Waiting. Aric shivered.

A thin, tall shadow wavered across the fence, and a tremor raced through his heart at the sight. The dark, stealthy image disappeared behind a bush. Aric's keen night vision spied the intruder, and his nose caught the creature's scent.

Johan!

Memories assailed him in a rush of anguish. The alluring man with odd brownish gold eyes luring him from the bar into an alley, fucking him in the ass, and then the strix's fluids rushing into his bloodstream. Nausea rippled through him. He touched his neck, as if feeling invisible fangs sinking deep into his flesh.

One stupid mistake and his life had been irrevocably altered.

Anger flushed away his fear. Anger at being stalked and frightened and bullied.

He rose to his feet and stormed into kitchen, where he yanked open the cabinet above the stove. Feeling for the carton of salt with his fingertips, he pushed aside bottles until he found his weapon. He poured a handful of crystals into his palm before stepping out into the yard. He was ready for a confrontation with his adversary.

“Show your face, you creep.”

The strix hooted an eerie laugh and took a few steps forward. Johan's amber eyes blinked owlishly at Aric. Feathery brown hair curved along his narrow, patrician face. Thin lips formed an amused smile.

“It's wonderful to see you again, my friend.”

The thick, honeyed voice assailed Aric. Tightening his hand around the salt, he swallowed a dry lump in his throat. Blood pumped hard through his veins, hot, liquid fire—oddly, a feeling similar to when Stu touched him. Strange to think of Stu with Johan standing in front of him.

“I'm not going with you. Leave,” Aric commanded, backed by his courage. He might be weak, but he wouldn't let this creature order him around.

The strix tossed his head back and laughed. Even the laugh sounded otherworldly and…somehow, appealing. Johan moved within inches of him. He glanced at the moon and then turned his mesmerizing gaze to Aric.

Johan spoke with such conviction. “You are already mine.”

“Why me?”
The question that had been burning a hole in Aric's gut needed an explanation.

A furrow creased between the strix's eyebrows, the scar preventing one brow from lifting completely. His hands clenched by his sides. A world-weary sigh escaped his lips. He raised his hand, almost painfully it seemed, and let his fingers slide through Aric's hair. “I want you as my mate.”

Aric cringed as he wrapped his mind around Johan's answer. The vampire's touch heated his skin. His mind went numb. He tried for words, but nothing came out, confusion distorting his thoughts.

“You remind me so much of my love.” Johan's index finger touched the small dark spot beneath Aric's eye. “Even the same mole.”

A look of sadness blinked across the Johan's eyes, but his life force and the tempting scent of blood pulled Aric in. Nothing mattered now but having a taste. Lured by golden brown eyes, Aric fought long and hard with all his will against the force of the vampire's magnetism, but his resolve began to weaken.

He took a step forward, closing the space between them.

So close to the strix, he smelled the starch of his black shirt and the waves of lust emanating from the creature's skin, and he sensed the eternal pain of living too long without a soul.

“You can't replace your lover with another man.” Aric tried to reason with Johan. “It doesn't work that way.”

Tears misted Johan's eyes, leaving crystal sparks on his lashes. He held out his hand, beckoning Aric with thin, graceful fingers. “I will take care of you. You are lonely, Aric. Like me, always so alone.”

It'd be so easy to give up
. Aric licked his dry lips, and he opened his hand, the salt slipping between his fingers. The mineral scattered as it hit the ground, a sparkling dust rising around his bare feet.

Aric took another step forward.

Sweat stained his pajama top. He smelled fear on his own skin but also lust. His eyes burned with unshed tears. The strix offered blessed release from having to live between two worlds. The burned odor that had wafted around him now smelled sweet. His surroundings faded. The grass, the trees, the sky—they all fell away. All he noticed was the handsome man in front of him. So regal, standing tall and full of confidence. This was his mate, and Johan had come to take him home at last.

Snap
went a twig, and Aric's body jerked toward the noise.

Corbin stepped from behind an overgrown bush. Silver flashed in the air. “Is this the one?” he asked, his voice sounding as deadly as the thin, long dagger he brandished in his hand. In his other hand, he held a dart gun, and he now brought it to his lips. A
swoosh
flew by Aric's ear as Johan easily sidestepped the feathered dart.

Shaken out of his hypnotic state, Aric cried as he stumbled back. Johan lunged forward, baring his fangs, transforming into a lethal bloodsucker. Red flames gleamed in his eyes, and his mouth twisted, contorting his face into an expression of madness.

Aric's breath stalled in his throat at the vampire's rage, all his compassion for the creature turning into a vortex of fear. He gasped for air and stumbled farther back. Sharp fingernails scratched across his sleeve, and pain shot through his right shoulder. His arm stung as he lifted it high enough to toss the remainder of the salt in his hand. Granules floated in a cloud around Johan's head.

Johan shrieked as his wings spread, his body instantly transforming into a gigantic birdlike creature with a human face and body and with sharp talons protruding from his hands and feet. The strix shot upward and into the sky. Corbin leaped up toward the vampire but missed, the arc of his blade millimeters from slicing off the strix's feet. Johan vanished into the night.

“You almost got me killed,” Aric shouted, his voice trembling along with every part of his body, “scaring him like that.”

“He almost had you. One more minute and you would have been lost to us.”

“Maybe not such a bad thing,” Aric grumbled, sick of the whole mess.
He smelled his blood before noticing the blobs of red staining his sleeve. He grimaced as the pain finally registered. But that's not all that had registered; he had one hell of a hard-on.

Corbin swept his hair back, a leaf falling from the tangles. “Let's get inside, clean you up. You can thank me properly later.”

“I got a better idea. I'll go inside, and you get the fuck out of here.” That damn righteous bastard had saved him from walking right into Johan's arms. Now he felt obligated toward the jerk.

“You have an antiseptic? Don't want the cut to get infected.”

“Didn't you hear me? Go away.” He made a shooing motion, but Corbin walked past him and through the back door.

What was with these Hamilton brothers? They never listened.

Aric scurried inside and found Corbin in his bathroom, going through his medicine cabinet. Sapphire eyes full of mocking amusement glimmered from behind the mirrored door. “This will do.” Corbin pivoted around, holding a jar of antiseptic ointment. “Take off that rag. It's beyond repair.” His right brow arched. “Maybe it's for the best.” And smiling flirtatiously, he tilted one hip. “I haven't seen pj's like that since Stu was a boy. He was into dinosaurs too.”

Heated cheeks scalded Aric's face. Okay, so he still wore pajamas. And maybe they were childish with their roaming T. rex and his buddy, the stegosaurus. And maybe it wasn't as cool as boxers and an undershirt. But having been washed many times, they were soft as butter and practical. And why did he have to justify his wardrobe? He stared at the bloody rips on his right sleeve. True, he'd never wear them again.

“Maybe I should take you to the ER,” Corbin said, more to himself, as he unscrewed the cap from the tube.

“No. I'll be fine. I heal fast.” He didn't want any doctor poking around and taking samples of his blood.

“Then strip and let me take care of your arm.”

Knowing when he was defeated, Aric shook off his ruined pajama top and bunched it in his hand. Corbin glared at him with such intensity, there was no doubt he sensed Aric's bloodlust.

Corbin swiped a finger across one of Aric's deep scratches, then brought the bloodied tip up to Aric's mouth. “Go ahead and lick it off. You know you want to.”

Aric's dick stirred at the erotic suggestion. His tongue curled in anticipation of the taste of blood. Corbin inched closer, his red-smeared finger nearing Aric's lips.

Aric's veins throbbed. The pulse in his throat jumped as his fangs dropped. Standing so close, his long hair brushing his shoulders, Corbin was enticing him.

He favored Aric with a broad smile, his teeth shining bright white. Blond hair glowed golden beneath the overhead light. Corbin smelled different from Stu, more sultry and exotic and spicy.
And
he was gay. Anyone could see that. He didn't hide it or make excuses. A perfect fuck buddy. A perfect guy to lose himself in.

So why did perfection seem so wrong?

Aric slapped the bloodied finger away. He turned and placed his hands on the edge of the sink, then bent his head. He was worn-out and far too tired for reasonable thought, and bile rose up to his throat. He pushed it down, not about to throw up in front of Stu's brother. His legs still trembled, the need for blood churning his insides. He fought down his hunger. “Go away,” he hissed. “I don't want you or what you're offering.”