It paid to be stronger, sometimes.
A lot of the time.
When they were back out on the sidewalk, amid the brightness of sun, which they squinted against, and the barrage of sounds and scents and whirling colors, early autumn wind snatching on their clothes, Jamie shook loose and rounded on him. But not, as Alexei had expected, with fury. With a wide-eyed startlement instead.
“This guy Gustav we’re looking for. You know him?”
“I’ve met him,” Alexei hedged. “That’s his bar.”
“And you didn’t say anything at breakfast?”
“Why? So Nikita could kill him?”
Jamie opened his mouth to respond…and then closed it.
Pedestrians streamed past on either side of them; a man elbowed Jamie with a quick, vicious “get the fuck outta the way.”
“Alexei,” Jamie finally said, his gaze the most serious Alexei had ever seen it. “Someone killed and ate a part of a man. And Nik and Sasha say this Gustav guy is involved. Please don’t tell me you don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“If you tell them–”
“Threatening me? Classy.”
Alexei ground his molars. “I want to figure out what’s going on first. Something is happening, yes, but if Nik finds Gustav first, he’ll only kill. He never cares about the why.”
“I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit.”
“And I’m warning you.”
Jamie stared at him, still not frightened, only disappointed, which was worse, in a way. Then he sighed, shook his head, and turned away.
Whatever, Alexei thought with an inward snarl, and set off in the opposite direction.
But, if he’d been able to admit it then, he would have recoiled from his own aggression. He was very angry, and not completely sure why, and this was one of those moments when he wondered if Grisha’s siring of him had left him with such a taint…
Or if it had been there all along.
8
1995
Sasha tipped his head back against the cold bricks and stared up at the light-polluted sky that spanned the building tops above. He exhaled a plume of billowing steam, and watched it disperse in loops and curls. The bar – whose outer wall he leaned against now – would close soon. But there was still time. Time enough for the blond sipping gin and making eyes at Nik all night to crook her finger and invite him back to the bathrooms.
Sasha had had only one drink, but his stomach rolled.
“Lovely night,” a lightly accented voice said off to his right, and he startled, turning, growl ready in his throat.
But he calmed at once. He knew that voice. And there was no scent. Because the man who’d materialized beside him, long golden braid draped over one shoulder, sable cloak clasped beneath his chin, wasn’t really here. But was Sasha’s friend nevertheless.
“Oh. Val. Hi.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you,” Val said, flashing him a sharp, charming smile.
“It’s fine.” Sasha resettled, one foot propped back on the wall, letting his shoulders slump. “I’m just…waiting.”
“For Nikita.”
“Heh. Good guess.”
“Darling, you only ever wait for one person.”
Sasha stared at the opposite wall of the alley, its peeling band posters and messy, indecipherable graffiti.
“Lovely evening,” Val said again, “but a rather…unlovely alley, don’t you think?” A glance proved he was surveying it with flared nostrils and downturned mouth. “And I can’t even smell it.”
“It smells like piss,” Sasha informed him.
“I thought so.” A pause, in which Sasha went back to staring at the posters. In a delicate tone, Val said, “But why are you waiting on him tonight, dear?”
Sasha’s throat tightened; his stomach clenched. Because he wanted to fuck someone, he thought, gorge rising, and couldn’t say the words. They sounded crass and unfair in his own mind. “He, um.” He gestured over his shoulder, a limp sort of flapping gesture, as his pulse pounded in his ears. “Met…someone.”
“Ah,” Val said, far too knowingly. “A lovely lady, I suppose.”
Sasha swallowed with difficulty. “Yeah.”
“And this of course sits ill with you.”
“What?” Sasha turned his head – too sharply, he could feel it. A snap response. He fought to keep from frowning. “No. No, it…he worries too much. It’s good for him to…relax.”
“Relax, yes.” Val chuckled…but his smile slipped quickly, and his blue eyes were full of sympathy. He tipped his head back against the wall, the long, pale line of his throat exposed. “Oh, Sasha. Why won’t you just tell him?”
The back of his neck prickled. “Tell him what?”
Val leaned in close, very close. Sasha imagined he could feel the heat of his breath, but that was only…anticipation. “Sasha,” Val said, and his voice deepened, and his fangs grew long, and his eyes flashed. He tipped his face, so he could whisper right in Sasha’s ear. “Why won’t you tell him that you wish it was you he was fucking right now?”
Sasha made a shocked, choked sound, and Val disappeared with a thin curl of white smoke.
~*~
Present Day
They spent the better part of the day combing the city – what they could reach of it on foot. They went along mostly in silence. Partly because after seventy-seven years living with someone, living literally out of one another’s pockets, silences didn’t always need filling. But Sasha felt, was keenly aware, of an underlying tension, the one that had blossomed first thing this morning, the moment he opened his eyes and felt Nik’s arm lying heavy in the dip of his waist.
But unlike the tension that had haunted their apartment since returning from Virginia, this tension electrified him.
They walked close together. He wasn’t obvious about it, but Nik stole looks. Furtive little glimpses through his lashes, unconsciously enticing. His heartbeat kept skipping, quick jumps when Sasha was close enough to detect them.
Sasha kept tamping down smiles. Really? he wanted to say. You, too? Do you really?
But he knew. He could sense that the simmer of excitement in his belly tickled at Nik’s ribs, too.
They caught a few vampire scent trails, even followed them, but they weren’t Gustav, and they dead-ended.
Finally, when the shadows lay long across the sidewalks, and Sasha was about to vibrate out of his skin with anticipation, Nik turned to him, cocked a single brow, and said, “Dinner?”
Sasha let his grin break through; it hurt to hold it in any longer. “Wait. Are you offering to eat?”
The corner of Nikita’s mouth twitched; holding his own smile in check with difficulty. “If you’re not hungry–”
“I want Berger’s,” Sasha said. “Subs. With the vinegar chips.”
Nikita nodded, mouth still twitching. Voice mellow when he said, “Alright. We can do that.”
Sasha beamed.
“Are you going to smile like that the whole way home?”
“Try and stop me.”