Last Chance (17 page)

Corbin flipped back his hair. “Fine, but I need to clean you up.” With a soaked washcloth, he wiped off the blood that had congealed on Aric's arm, then, with delicate care, smoothed on the ointment. This gentle action drained what was left of Aric's energy, and his knees gave out. Corbin caught him, scooped him into his arms, and carried him to bed.

Tossed onto the mattress like a rag doll, Aric flinched at the harsh tone of Corbin's voice. “I don't want you messing with Stu. He's got it in his head that he likes you. Don't encourage him.” With hands on his waist and his silver dagger tucked in his belt, Corbin resembled an avenging angel. Stu's protector.

Corbin frowned. “You already got what you need. He told me about the serum.”

Aric brushed his hand over his face, exhaustion taking its toll. “It has to work.”

“Then I'm correct. You don't need him anymore.”

“It's not like that.”

“I don't care what it's like. He's not like us.”

Forcing himself to sit up, Aric winced as a jolt of pain shot up his arm. It hurt like hell. What did this guy think he'd done to his brother? Turned Stu on to the dark side of gayness? He
had
discouraged Stu, but the dude had insisted on getting involved in his life. And although he'd come to the same conclusion as Corbin—that it was best to let Stu go—he'd be damned if he was going to take orders from this asshole. “Go fuck yourself. It's your kid brother who came on to me. Maybe he's not who you think he is.”

“And who would that be?” The threat in Corbin's tone was unmistakable.

“How should I know? Go ask him yourself.”

“What does Stu see in you, anyway?” Corbin scratched his chin, his eyes a blue-gray in the dim light. “I haven't spent my life making sure he has all the opportunities for a normal life just to have some half-assed punk ruin it.”

“You're a flaming queer, so why should you care?”

Corbin's mouth stretched dangerously thin. Anger flashed a feral spark in his eyes. Aric swallowed hard but held his ground. He wasn't about to be bullied. He met Corbin head-on with his own icy glare.

“Our father died saving my life,” Corbin replied through clenched teeth. “I had no choice but to follow in his path. But not Stu. He's different. If he stays with you, what kind of life will he live? Always hiding the truth from his fans, his teammates. He's straight, Aric. That's as plain and simple as I can be.”

“Get out.”

“And I get no thanks for saving your pathetic life?” Having the last word, Corbin left the house, giving the front door a good, hard slam.

Aric slid out from the covers. He padded into the kitchen, rubbing his throbbing arm. He opened the fridge, rummaged around the carton of milk and the fruit juice, and found the vial hidden in the back. His own blood, fresh from the lab.

He stared at the crimson liquid inside the vial. Tears burned in his eyes. He hated this—this need for blood, this constant craving, the desire for Stu, his nearly surrendering to Johan—all of it.

He had one foot in one world and one in another—not quite human, not quite vampire. But hadn't it always been like that? Even as a child he'd been quiet and introspective instead of gregarious. A smart kid, envied and teased for his feminine looks, his brains, and his desire for boys. Few friends and few lovers, until Devon. His stomach clenched. His ex-boyfriend was married with a kid and living in some innocuous suburb. That image was quickly replaced by a married Stu with children.

If the serum didn't work, then what?
His heart broke at the thought of having Stu involved in taking Johan's life. He knew within his heart that Corbin spoke the truth about Stu. He was a bright, honest, beautiful boy headed for an outstanding career in the NFL. There was no room for Aric in Stu's life. All he would be was Stu's dirty little secret.

He popped open the cork and drank the thick, cold liquid. The first few drops seared his tongue, but it was a delicious burn. The blood streamed down his throat and then through his body, igniting his veins. A feeling of euphoria smothered his anxiety. Objects in the dark came into focus. The fresh scent of grass from outside infused his nostrils. The neighbors stirred in their sleep.

He went to the living room and sank down on the sofa. As he picked at a threadbare cushion, his mind raced. He couldn't blame Corbin for telling him to lay off Stu. Stu's future rested on his playing it straight. Stu's becoming a gay vampire slayer wouldn't go over very well in the sports profession.

And a guy didn't just become gay. He had to have the tendencies before. Aric didn't think Stu had those tendencies. The problem was, he hadn't thought at all when Stu approached him, first in the shower and then every day in the lab since. All that slick, moist heat, Stu's smell, their intense need for each other—it had scared him. And yet, hope had found its way into his heart. Taking a chance on a relationship hadn't seemed so impossible.

Curling up, he rested his head on a throw pillow. He closed his eyes and made a solemn promise: Tomorrow he would break off with Stu. He would take the serum, and his life would go back to being normal.

Normal, except how would he stuff his heart back into the closet?

Stu paced between the lab counter and Aric. His hair fell into his eyes, his mouth contorted with anger, and all his muscles readied for a fight. He clutched a glass vial, wanting to smash it into the wall. His heart was throbbing painfully fast and pounded in his ears.

He stopped long enough to glare at Aric. “Now that you got what you wanted, you discard me like a piece of shit.”

Aric had shown him the serum—his prized possession—before putting it in the safety-locked refrigerator. Now that he had what he needed, Aric was casually tossing him aside. The mere thought of it made his muscles bulge into tight, angry knots.

Aric stood with his back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, his face a mask of indifference. “Cut the drama-queen act. So we fucked. It's not like it meant anything.”

Stu stepped toward Aric and smiled archly. “You're lying.”

“And you're delusional.”

“You care for me.” He stabbed his finger at Aric's chest. “This is about Cor threatening you, isn't it? He told me that he asked you to stay away from me.”

“Did he also tell you we slept together?”

The vial cracked in Stu's hand. Jealousy speared his heart so deep that he almost stopped breathing. He opened his bloodied fist and let the shards fall to the floor. Aric flinched and looked away. The bastard couldn't even look him in the eye.

His mind struggled between rage and despair. What a stupid fool he'd been. Not sure if he hated Aric or his brother more, he had to escape the confines of this stinking lab and Aric, who was looking at him again, cold indifference in his eyes.

“He's gay and quite the lover.”

Aric wouldn't shut up.

“A gay man who knows who he is and what he wants. A real turn-on.”

Stu raised his fist, and something akin to resignation flashed in Aric's eyes. He didn't try to defend himself but defiantly raised his chin. Stu dropped his hand and stumbled toward the exit, bumping into desks and shoving aside chairs.

He needed air. He needed to flee.

A horrible, wrenching pain spread throughout his stomach. He escaped down the hall and kept running. When he spied the bathroom, he pushed open the door, hurried into the nearest stall, and lost his lunch.

Stu remained kneeling, desperate to catch his breath. Tears stung his eyes.
Crying like some girl
. Nothing had prepared him for this unbearable heartache. He'd never cared that much when he broke up with his girlfriends. Now everything inside of him, everything outside of him—everything—went numb. The same emotions as when his father died. Nothing mattered or made sense.

Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe—into one word,

And that one word were lightning, I would speak;

But as it is, I live and die unheard,

With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.

This is how the poets must have experienced love. Lord Byron's words layered in new meaning for Stu.

“Hey, man, are you okay?”

Stu twisted around at the sound of a guy's voice. He grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped his mouth, then tossed the wad in the bowl. “Must have been something I ate.”

“Need water or something?”

“Just need a minute alone.”

The guy nodded and went to the urinal to do his business. Once he washed his hands, he hurried out the door, careful not to look Stu's way. Stu sighed and hefted up onto his feet. Splashing cold water on his face, he took a moment to compose himself. Corbin, the bastard. He'd fucked Aric for no more reason than to prove a point.

Screw both of them. They could have each other.

Stu put on his game face and stalked out the door and into the hallway, all his thoughts hidden behind his smiling mask. Too upset, he didn't sense the strix hiding in the shadows…waiting.

* * *

Aric slid down to the floor. He raised his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his trembling legs. The hurt in Stu's eyes had shattered his heart like the pieces of vial scattered across the floor.

The lie added a heap of guilt to Aric's despair. Struggling for even, shallow breaths, he bent his head to his knees. A searing pain spread across his shoulder blades. He pinched his nose and squeezed his eyes, as if he could squeeze out the guilt from his pores. The image of Stu's hurt expression haunted him. He wished there had been another way to let Stu go, but there was no better way than to shatter his trust. Corbin would deny the lie, of course, but by then the seeds of doubt would have already been planted in Stu's mind. Really, it was the only way—painting himself as the villain. Now he would live with his decision and stuff down any regrets that would come later.

The door creaked, and his head shot toward the noise.

Stu had come back!

A surge of happiness struck his heart. It was foolish to care, but he wanted to play the idiot. The serum would give him back his life, but Stu would give him a reason for waking up each day.

Then the scent filled the room—the familiar, nauseating sweetness.

No, it can't be
…

There was nowhere to hide. He cringed as the dark form cast a shadow over him. Sickened by his own cowering, he looked up and met his adversary in the eyes.

Johan smiled. “I cannot have you taking that serum.” He scanned the many vials scattered along the countertop. “Which one is it?”

“I already shot up.”

Fine-boned fingers gripped his arms and lifted him off the ground. Johan sniffed his lab coat, then let go. Aric caught his balance and landed on his feet. His gaze darted across the room, but wedged between Johan and the counter, he saw no escape.