With a Kiss (16 page)

“Do you feel up to a brief tour, or would you prefer to rest a while first?” Marcus asked.

Liam lifted his gaze. Marcus only stood a yard or two down the hall from him. He hadn’t run away after all. His desperation to remain close to Marcus for as long as it was permitted saved him from standing there like an idiot while waiting for his brain to kick into action.

“I’m fine.” The bite from that morning still made his injuries irrelevant. “If you don’t mind, a tour would be great.” Liam stepped forward, more than ready to follow wherever the other man led.

The house was big and old. Marcus spoke about the history of it very casually as they walked through the huge rooms. Priest holes. Round heads. Shell shocked soldiers. It seemed like the whole world had passed through there at one time or another.

Liam had no doubt that when he finally laid his head down on one of the huge feather pillows that decorated his bed that night, his dreams would be full of adventure and intrigue. It would certainly make a pleasant change from the dreams he’d had in Ralph’s house. That building had been new. There had been no history to take his mind off present pain.

Several hours later, after he'd switched off the elaborate brass light by the side of his bed, Liam closed his eyes. The house was very quiet compared to Ralph’s house in a busy suburb. There were no close neighbors here. He wouldn’t have to worry that the people next door might hear his lover’s temper flare and anger him further by summoning the police to their house.

Liam shook his head as he turned over and tried to nudge his pillow into a more comfortable shape. Adventure and intrigue, that was what he wanted to dream about. Not Ralph, and not Marcus either.

He was not going to fall for the vampire. And he wasn’t going to think about what might have happened between them if Marcus had decided that his guest wasn’t going to be allowed to have a bed all to himself.

Liam closed his eyes a little tighter and pulled the blankets more firmly around his shoulders. No, it was best all around that Marcus had nothing more than a temporary interest in his blood, and no interest at all in any other part of his body.

* * * *

Hands wrapped around Liam’s wrists, pinning them painfully down on either side of his head. The world closed in around him, crushing him, suffocating him. A loud cracking sound filled the air as his ribs gave way beneath the onslaught.

Pain swarmed through him, like a million fire ants racing through a newly formed colony. Liam scrabbled with the faceless form above him, trying desperately to get free. His feet kicked out, only to find themselves tightly bound by something he couldn’t see, couldn’t escape.

Liam had to get free. He had to. He had to…to get to the hospital. Yes. He’d be safe there. Even through the pain and the fear, part of him knew that just as surely as it knew Ralph really was going to kill him this time.

Pain flared through Liam’s cheek. Hands closed around his throat. He tried to scream, but no words emerged. He didn’t even have enough breath to beg for mercy. Tossing his head back, Liam summoned every ounce of energy at his disposal and screamed.

The sound had barely faded from the air, when it was drowned out by the splintering of wood from the other side of Ralph’s living room.

* * * *

Liam jerked into a sitting position, arms flailing as he was thrown unceremoniously from his dream and came crashing back down into the here and now. For several long seconds, he had no clear memory of what particular reality he was living through.

The room was dark. It only took him a second to realize that he was far away from any room in Ralph’s home; knowledge of where he actually was came far more slowly. The only thing Liam could make out in his unfamiliar surroundings was a faint outline of light where a door used to be.

He wasn’t in Ralph’s house, but that didn’t mean Ralph couldn’t be there. Ralph knew about Marcus. Ralph knew Marcus was awake. It didn’t take too great a panic-fueled, mental jump to realize that meant Ralph could have found out where Marcus lived.

Scrabbling for the bedside table, desperately trying to find a lamp he only vaguely remembered the location of, Liam finally managed to press the switch on the side of it with trembling fingers. Warm, yellow light spread through the room, mellowed by an old fashioned fringed lampshade.

A shadow in the middle of the room moved and grew, gradually forming the figure of a man.

Unable to breathe, Liam couldn’t even convince his heart to take another beat. Pressing himself back against the headboard, he tried to work out how small his chances of making it to the door were. The figure was between him and the splintered remains of the only entrance and exit. The fact the key still rested on his bedside table was no help to Liam.

The figure moved again. Ralph completely failed to look up at Liam. Instead, Marcus pushed long black strands of his hair back from his face as he lifted his head. Crouched in the center of the room, he looked all the way around the space, even ducking his head down to peer beneath the bed.

Suddenly, Liam’s heart and lungs were racing away at full pelt, but he still couldn’t control any muscles that required his conscious input. He simply sat and stared at Marcus as if he were a ghost rather than a vampire.

“Are you okay?”

Very slowly, Liam managed to nod, one jerky little motion, before he fell still again.

Marcus glared around the room once more. Liam half expected him to check for bogymen in the wardrobes, too. As the vampire faced the doorway, Liam’s attention turned toward the splinters of wood where the door should have been.

“You screamed.”

Liam’s gaze snapped back to Marcus’.

He’d screamed and Marcus had… what had he done exactly? Come to rescue him?

Sudden footsteps on the stairs sent tension flooding back into Liam’s body. For once, he found himself stupidly reassured by the fact he didn’t have a viable way to escape from the room. Marcus was positioned firmly between him and the door. Anyone who was stupid enough to launch themselves through that doorway now would have to go through Marcus before they could reach Liam. From the look that filled Marcus’ eyes, that would be no easy task.

It was almost impossible to imagine the vampire lying peacefully in a hospital bed now. He was all bunched muscles and tightened nerves. Marcus turned toward the door, shifting his feet into a position that indicated he was ready to fight.

He looked as ready to kill as Liam had ever seen any man. Liam helplessly followed the vampire’s gaze. A man appeared in the hallway in a flurry of paisley dressing gown and bedroom slippers, brass fire-poker in hand.

Liam stared. Very slowly, he caught hints of familiarity in the guy’s face. It was hard to imagine that the wild gray hair or furious expression could belong to the same man who’d turned up at the hospital looking as if he’d just stepped straight out of an old fashioned guide to formal etiquette.

Jenson looked from Marcus to Liam and back again. “Good evening, sir,” he said. Only the fact he was slightly out of breath betrayed that they weren’t actually meeting under entirely normal circumstances. He lowered the poker to his side and corrected his stance.

“Good evening,” Marcus replied. Straightening his spine, he once more pushed his hair back from his face. The glossy black strands were tossed and wild after his tumble through the door. All important considerations aside, Liam’s fingers itched to reach out and stroke through Marcus’ hair.

Gradually, Liam managed to take in details other than the fact that Marcus was right there in his room. The vampire’s chest was bare. Black pajama bottoms covered the lower half of his body, but the material appeared to be thinner and softer than any Liam had ever worn. They clung to far more than they concealed, clearly outlining the vampire’s cock.

Liam swallowed rapidly as he finally managed to tear his gaze away from the vampire. Being in a coma hadn’t done Marcus’ muscle definition any harm at all. He looked far more like he’d just stepped out of a gym, or perhaps off a runway, than as if he’d just left the hospital.

For the first time in his life, Liam realized just how fascinating the pale and interesting look could be on the right man. He risked another glance at Marcus’ face just in time to see the vampire raise one eyebrow at his butler. His lips twitched, but didn’t quite give into any temptation they might feel to smile. “Nice poker.”

“Thank you, sir. It is indeed a very fine example of its type,” Jenson replied, not missing a single beat. “Is there something you require my assistance with?”

Marcus shook his head. “Everything’s fine.”

Suddenly Liam found himself the subject of the butler’s intense scrutiny. “Do you agree that is the case, Mr. Bates?”

All Liam could do was peer at the butler in confusion.

“Liam had a nightmare,” Marcus said. “I came crashing in here because I heard a scream, he didn’t scream because I burst in on him, desperate for his blood.”

Jenson’s eyes never wavered from Liam’s face. It was as if he really didn’t care what Marcus had to say about it.

Finally, Liam managed to make his lips move. “I’m fine. I…I’m sorry, Mr. Jenson. I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”

“Very good, sir,” Jenson said with a curt little half nod, half bow. He turned to Marcus. “Shall I show Mr. Bates to another room for the remainder of the night, sir?”

Marcus shook his head. “No. Go back to bed. We’re both fine.”

“Just as you wish, sir.” The older man turned back to Liam. “If you require anything, just pull the bell, sir.”

He spun on his heel and walked away with complete composure, poker swinging at his side like a high class walking stick.

Marcus seemed to listen to his butler’s footsteps retreat all the way to the base of the stairs before he finally turned back to Liam. For just the briefest moment, he hesitated. “Was I right—are you okay?”

Liam nodded, pulling his knees up in front of him and wrapping his arms around his legs over the blankets.

Marcus stepped closer. “May I sit?” he waved a hand to the unoccupied side of the huge bed Liam lay in.

Liam managed another nod. Taking a deep breath, he tried very hard to look completely at ease. He was pretty sure he failed spectacularly.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Liam blinked at Marcus. It took a long time for the words to sink in and make sense inside his head—as much sense as it was possible for those words to make at any rate.

“I should be the one apologizing,” Liam whispered, staring down at his entwined fingers.

“For having a nightmare?” Marcus asked. “I didn’t realize you had it on purpose.”

Liam managed a slight smile in response to the other man’s teasing, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Once more, Marcus hesitated, just for a second. “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”

The grip Liam’s right hand had on his left, turned white knuckled. Marcus’ gaze flicked down to his hands and Liam was left in no doubt that the other man had noticed his moment of panic.

“You only need to talk about it if you want to,” Marcus said, very gently.

Liam shook his head.

“That’s fine.”

Staring at the blanket between them, Liam tried to wait for the other man to speak again, but it wasn’t long before he had to break the silence. It was that, or lose his mind completely.

“Do you need to feed?”

Marcus didn’t speak, he didn’t move. He didn’t even seem to breathe for what felt like a very long time. Finally, his chest began to rise and fall again. “I didn’t bring you here because I wanted to turn you into a blood whore, Liam.”

Heat rushed to Liam’s cheeks. He tightened his grip on his fingers until he was half sure the digits would break under his grip, just as they had last year, beneath Ralph’s shoe. “I’m sorry. I mean, I know you’ve probably got other arrangements now that you’re out of the hospital. You don’t have to settle for someone like me—”