His Vampire Harem_Harem Paranormal Romance [Gay] Page 5

At six a.m. there was movement within his room. It was only then I broke into the empty room opposite his and spied through the peephole, waiting for him to emerge.

  Which he did ten minutes later; hair damp from the shower, wearing a denim jacket, Levi’s and black sneakers. He had a rucksack on his back and was dragging a small roll-along case.

  I counted to ten—long enough for him to reach the elevator and press the button, but not so long I’d lose him.

  That wasn’t an option.

  I let myself out of the room and quickly followed him. The elevator doors were closing, trapping him inside. I pushed my hand through the gap, halting their progress.

  When they opened and he saw me, surprise lit his handsome face.

  “Sorry,” I said. “In a rush. Got a plane to catch.”

  “Er, yeah, me too.” He quickly pressed the door-open button.

  “Thanks.” I stepped in beside him, so we were standing shoulder to shoulder.

  He was a fraction shorter than me and smelled of cologne, peppery and sexy, I wondered if it were the one I’d bought him.

  I hoped so. To think he was wearing something I’d given him as a gift thrilled me.

  “Where are you flying to?” I asked, even though I already knew.

  “London. You?”

  “London too.” I resisted the urge to turn and stare at him. Instead I allowed my gaze to linger on his reflection in the smoky mirrored doors.

  “Charles de Gaulle?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I recalled the e-ticket George had emailed to my phone. George was a computer whizz with no aversion to hacking when necessary. It wouldn’t have taken him long to find out which flight Darius was on. “Nine ten.”

  “Same flight as me.” I saw Darius’s reflection turn to me, linger for a moment, then look down at his feet.

  I had a longing to ask him if he was okay. If he’d been sad or lonely when he’d masturbated the night before. If he’d wished I’d joined him, or if he had a man, or maybe a woman, back in London waiting for him.

  No. Please. No one else.

  The elevator doors opened and I gestured for him to step out first.

  “Thanks.”

  I enjoyed the view of his butt as he walked ahead of me. He paused at Reception, handed in a keycard, then navigated past several huge urns of pale cream and pink flowers. When he reached the hotel shop he loitered by the window as if something had caught his eye.

  I held back, wondering what he was doing.

  I didn’t wonder for long. He was studying the gift boxes containing the his and hers sets of Phantom’s Kiss. After being tipped off by Lloyd, it was where I’d stopped on the way to his room the evening before. A gift was a good excuse to meet the man who was going to rule our world from this point on, so I’d purchased the box of aftershave and perfume.

  Darius rubbed his forehead, as if smoothing away a frown.

  Does he suspect me of buying it here? An excuse to see him?

  I shook my head. No, surely he’d just think it a coincidence. I was sure he received gifts all the time from companies keen to associate their product with his looks and style, being that he was famous and all that.

  Damn, he’s going to be hugely famous in the vampire world if we’re not careful. And it won’t do him any favors. In fact, it might be the death of him.

  I shuddered at the thought. Darius was so beautiful, so vibrant and alive. The very notion of him dead, or being turned, didn’t sit well with me.

  Once again, as I’d thought several times in the night, we were lucky to have found him first. Before his demon father, and before some of the more ruthless vampires at The Order; ones who fantasized about the elusive key and the salvation it was rumored to hold.

  A wave of protectiveness came over me–not that I hadn’t felt it from the moment I’d seen him, I had, but now, as he wandered out onto the street, it was a powerful force inside me. I couldn’t ignore it. The urge to prevent him ever coming to harm was as instinctual as my need to feed on blood.

  I hurried after him, ignoring the curious glance from the concierge. The hotel really needed to sharpen their security.

  Once out on the street Darius paused, his suitcase held behind him. He appeared to be looking for a cab.

  “Want to split the fare?” I asked, stepping up next to him and dropping my shades. The sun wasn’t high yet, its rays not reaching the street, but still, I didn’t like the burning sensation on my retinas. “As we’re both going the same way.”

  He continued to scour the traffic. “I thought you had a bike?”

  So he had seen me arrive. I’d suspected as much.

  “Ahh, the leathers,” I said quickly. “I see why you’d think that and yes, I have been using one for my courier work. But it’s a friend’s. I borrowed it. He’ll collect it from here.”

  “Oh, I see.” A line formed between Darius’s eyebrows.

  I hoped I hadn’t pushed it too far with my reasons for being at his side.

  “Well in that case, sure,” he said with a shrug. “No point paying two fares.”

  I smiled, then spotted a cab and flagged it down.

  We quickly alighted. My leg brushed his as we sat and a lovely warmth from his flesh radiated onto my cold skin, even through my leathers.

  “You travel light.” Darius adjusted his case and rucksack.

  “Yeah, suits me.” I leaned forward. “Charles de Gaulle please, mate.”

  “Not even a washbag?”

  Rubbing my coarse stubble, I threw him a grin. “I’m not one for preening.”

  “That must be nice.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In my trade, preening, or rather grooming, has to be maintained.”

  “I like your clean shaven jaw.” I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip, wondering what his cheek would feel like against my mouth. “It’s cute.”

  “Cute.” He chuckled. “Not sure how I feel about being called cute.”

  “It’s a compliment. I like how you look, a lot.”

  He held my gaze.

  I returned it solidly. He may as well know I found him attractive. Hell, he was the most handsome man I’d seen for decades. Everything about him drew me in for closer inspection.

  He turned away and pointed out of the window. “You ever been to the Louvre?”

  “Yeah, a few times.”

  “Got a favorite picture?”

  “The Raft of the Medusa.” I visualized it in my head; a huge canvas that instantly took the viewer to the stormy seas of the Atlantic.

  “I haven’t heard of that one,” he said.

  “It’s by Théodore Géricault. It’s a raft, adrift and crowded with desperate sailors.”

  “Does it have a story behind it?”

  He appeared interested and that pleased me. “Yeah, a bit grizzly, though, because it’s a true story. The Méduse was a French naval frigate which hit a sandbank on its way to Senegal. On the raft are the surviving seamen.”

  “Were they okay?”

  “No.” I shook my head and studied his eyes. “The sailors turned mad, chaos ensued. They killed each other, ate the dead.” Still I stared at him.

  His eyebrows pulled low but he held my gaze. “That’s awful.”

  “It is. But within the painting there’s one symbol of hope for the wretched souls.”

  “What’s that?”

  “At the front of the raft, a few men are pointing forward, as if they’ve seen a rescue boat, or land.”

  “Well that’s good.” He smiled. “If their souls could be saved.”

  “You think that’s important? A man’s soul.”

  “Of course, doesn’t everyone?”

  I shrugged. I knew that not to be the case. My sort had been hounded for centuries. A stake through the heart, or beheaded and burned if ever foolish or careless enough to be captured. That was the end of a vampire. His soul would burn in Hell for all eternity. No pearly gates, no chance of redemption, certainly no Heaven. Hell, th
at was what we had to look forward to. And once there, escape was not an option.

  “The soul,” Darius went on, “is where the true person is, not the body.” He ran his hands down his chest then over his thighs.

  I watched him, wondering what it would be like to smooth my palms over his torso and legs. His warm, soft skin held fascination for me and I longed to experience it against mine.

  “The body is a vehicle, our transport through life,” he continued “We have to look after it, but it’s what’s up here we really need to care for.” He tapped the side of his head.

  “I like the way you think,” I said, nodding. “Makes sense.”

  “Not just a pretty face.” He laughed.

  The sound filled my chest along with a yearning to hear it over and over. “You’re definitely not just a pretty face,” I said. “There’s much more to you.”

  His cheeks flushed, the blood coming to the surface of his skin, then he turned to the window.

  We rode along for a few more minutes, creeping through traffic toward the set-down area at the airport. When we arrived we split the bill as agreed and headed through the revolving doors.

  The huge atrium was packed with people. Everyone rushing as if they knew their time was running out.

  I paused at Darius’s side and studied a huge screen.

  Our flight was on time and check-in was at desk forty-one.

  “It’s this way,” I said, knowing the way from previous trips. “Come on.”

  “Yeah, it is.” He adjusted his rucksack, then walked with me.

  I was pleased. I wanted to stick with him and continue our conversation, not follow him from afar. This was a much easier way to keep an eye on him, and protect him should anything untoward happen.

  Luckily the queue for check-in was short. I gestured for Darius to go first.

  “Thanks,” he said, stepping forward and rolling his small suitcase behind him.

  I watched the woman behind the counter. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips, bringing renewed shine to her glossy lipstick. She pushed her hair behind her ears and sat straighter as she smiled at him.

  This man wraps everyone around his finger.

  It was clear our cambion had the allure his father did. A demon in full seduction mode was irresistible. Darius just didn’t seem to know he could have anyone in his bed, male or female, if he decided to.

  Darius spoke to the woman as she checked his passport and handed him his boarding pass. When finished he turned to me. “It was nice meeting you, thanks for sharing the ride.”

  “No problem.” I nodded but couldn’t manage a smile. I’d wanted to stick with him, pal up for the entire journey.

  He walked away and I stepped up to the desk tugging my phone and passport out of my jacket pocket.

  I didn’t get the same reaction from the woman behind the desk. She looked at me warily, then frowned when I said I had no carry on luggage and nothing to check in.

  “Can I sit next to my buddy?” I said, gesturing to the way Darius had gone.

  “Your buddy?”

  “Yes, Mr. Linnet.” This time I managed a smile and looked her in the eyes.

  She held my gaze for a second, just long enough for me to see I’d had an effect on her. “Let me have a look.” She glanced back at the computer. “Are you okay with paying for an upgrade?”

  “Of course.” I passed her a credit card.

  After a few moments she handed over my passport, credit card and boarding pass. “Have a nice flight, Mr Yale.”

  I nodded and headed off toward Security. Darius had gone from sight.

  “Benedict’s balls,” I muttered. Not having Darius close wasn’t sitting comfortably with me. But at least I knew where he was going to be in an hour—sitting next to me. And there weren’t likely to be any demonic mishaps in such a busy, bright place as an airport terminal.

  Ten minutes later I spotted him sipping a coffee and tapping on his phone.

  I kept my distance, loitering around the newsstand and pretending to flick through a selection of bestselling paperbacks.

  Thirty minutes after that I was following Darius onto a British Airways plane.

  Although there wasn’t a first class, or even a business class on such a short flight, we were in the premier section at the front with wider seats and more legroom. Which suited me and my long legs.

  I hung back with several passengers between us and watched him stow his suitcase in the overhead locker, his biceps flexing and his shoulders bunching as he maneuvered it.

  He spoke to a woman he’d had to lean over, and she laughed, batting her hand as if to say he could come as near as he wanted.

  I folded my arms, possession coming over me. He was ours, no one else’s, certainly not a human female. And Darius Linnet would soon be well aware of that fact.

  He sat in the middle seat of a row of three, the window seat being empty, and again looked at his phone. I moved closer, anticipation growing, then sat heavily, my leg brushing his.

  He glanced up. His eyes widened. “Oh, hello again.” He smiled.

  “We should stop meeting like this,” I said, matching his grin. “I’m Oscar Yale, by the way.” I held out my hand.

  “Darius Linnet.” He placed his hand in mine.

  I’d guessed right, his skin was warm and smooth, a little delicate too, I could sense the bones beneath the flesh. But I knew not to be fooled by that delicateness. Not only could he create lightning from his fingertips, he had an inner strength that had to be respected. Having a demon father did that to a person.

  He shook and released. “I hope this plane is on time.”

  “You have somewhere to be? Work?”

  “No, I said I’d go and see my mother, that’s all. Her washing machine is playing up again. I’ll take a look at it.” He shrugged and did up his seatbelt, the clasp sitting over a bulge in his jeans. “If I can’t fix it I’ll buy her a new one.”

  “These things can usually be fixed with a bit of know how.”

  “Yeah, I agree. Shame I don’t really know how.” He chuckled.

  The air stewards ran through the safety routine, then, bang on time, the plane took to the air.

  Darius opted for another coffee. As usual I had nothing. What I really would have liked was to have a suck on his neck, find a vein, break it, and let his sweet red nectar fill my mouth. Not lots, not enough to exhaust him, just to sate my curiosity as to what he’d taste like. I wasn’t desperate for a feed. I’d taken human blood only a few months ago, when we’d been in New York. George and Rhys had joined me. Lloyd, however, had gone a long time without feeding, longer than the three of us. I’d been surprised he’d managed to hold off when coming face to face, finally, with the man we’d been hunting. It just went to show his self-control was formidable.

  “You talked about souls, earlier,” I said.

  “Er, yeah.” He glanced sideways at me, then took a sip of his drink.

  “Does that mean you were brought up Christian?”

  “Yes, my mother is very religious.” He touched his neck, and I noticed a necklace there, and beneath the material of his t-shirt the outline of a small cross.

  “But you’re not?”

  “No, not really. I mean I’ll do Christmas and Easter with her, but I haven’t been to church for years. Not since I had a say in whether I went or not.”

  “So she didn’t install her beliefs in you?” This had me curious. Had we been right in our suspicions of how a cambion would feel about religion?

  He sighed. “Some of them. I mean, half and half.”

  Well you are half incubus, half human. Stands to reason. I bit on my bottom lip to keep those words in.

  “I believe in the concept of souls, and that none are so evil, so far gone they can’t be saved,” he said.

  “Like on the raft. The sailors, even if they killed and ate one another, should they be saved, then they could be forgiven. Is that what you mean?”

  “Yeah, but not for
given by God, or any god, but by other people, and themselves. Where there’s life there’s hope and all that.”

  I nodded. I didn’t have a human life anymore, but I did have hope for my soul despite my sins over the years.

  “Your mother is very important to you,” I said, watching him run his finger over the rim of his cup.

  “I’m all she’s got.” He paused. “And to a degree she’s all I’ve got.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You have this hugely successful career, you must have lots of friends.”

  “I…yeah, my career is great. But loads of friends? No, not really.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Traveling isn’t good for relationships.” He turned to me, his gaze seeming to roam my face as if taking in my features, my stubbled jawline, my wide neck. “You’re not married are you, Oscar?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Me neither.”

  “No near misses with pretty models? Thoughts about dropping to one knee and popping the question?” I asked.

  “With a girl?”

  I hesitated then grinned, already guessing his answer. “Yeah, a girl.”

  But he didn’t give me an answer. Instead he rolled his lips in on themselves then leaned a little closer.

  I caught a whiff of not just his cologne, but also the scent of his warm skin.

  “Can I ask you something?” he asked quietly.

  “Sure.”

  “You won’t be offended?”

  I chuckled. “Depends what you ask, Darius.”

  And if you think it might, you’re showing some of that inner strength. It’s damn brave to ask a guy like me something that could insult.

  “Are you gay?” he asked.

  I tipped my head and allowed a small smile to form. “What makes you think that?”

  “I dunno.” He sat straighter. “Something about last night, when you said you were waiting for a friend. I wondered if that friend was…”

  “Male?”

  He swallowed and nodded.

  I decided to put Darius out of his misery. After all I wanted him to enjoy spending time with me. “Yeah, it was a guy, but not one I’m involved with in that way. In fact he didn’t stay long, had another place to be.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “I was glad of the room, so close to the airport.”