(75) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

Trev understood what I had said. “Then we’ll have to make this the first time, won’t we?” He dropped his head, taking my mouth in a long slow kiss. Then he moved down, sucking my cock into his mouth.

Pulling back after a moment, he smiled. “Just relax, Del. Relax and let your body enjoy my loving it.” He continued sucking and licking.

I tried to do as he said, but how could I when he was making me tremble with a need I knew could never be fulfilled. Slowly he increased his ministrations, teasing, licking, suckling me until I was on fire. With the pads of his thumbs, he gently rubbed my nipples. I was moaning, my breath catching in my throat. The sensations were like none I’d ever felt before. Then he released me just long enough to wet one finger. I gasped he slid his hand under me, circling my entrance with that finger, then easing it in as deeply as possible---groaning low when I arched up. It touched something and shock waves of pleasure hit me. I screamed out as my body shook uncontrollably with the first orgasm I’d ever had.

When I finally came down I whispered, “I never knew…”

He smiled down at me for a moment. “Now you do, my boy.” His lips touched mine and I opened to him, this time taking his mouth with a frenzied hunger for him that shocked me. Just the kiss had me wanting more, wanting what he’d given me again, wanting him again but this time all of him. I tasted myself on his lips, on his tongue and wanted his taste on mine.

I laughed giddily as I pushed him back, putting my hands on his shoulders to make him lay back on the bed. I quickly undid his jeans, catching his engorged shaft in my hand when it sprang free, using my other hand to push his jeans down over his hips. “My turn,” I told him, once he’d finished the job, kicking them off onto the floor.

I licked slowly up his cock then down again, over and over until he was growling with need. Taking the head into my mouth I sucked hard and traced my tongue over the leaking tip, tasting the salty essence of his pre cum. I could hear him saying my name over and over again, begging me for more. I stopped, looking up at him, grinning wickedly. “I’m not nearly done yet. You took your time with me, I’m going to do the same for you.”

“Gods, Del, I can’t take much more.” He was so hard and pulsing I knew he was right. But I was still going to give as good as I got for as long as I could keep him riding that edge.

I bent back down, taking his heavy sac into my mouth, rolling his balls with my tongue while stroking my finger over his perineum. He swore long and low, begging me to stop my teasing. I relented, straddling him, holding his rampant shaft in my hand. He watched me, then reached for something, tearing the packet open, handing me a condom. I smiled as I rolled it over his shaft. Then I took the tube, when he gave it to me. He lifted his legs, and once I'd lubed his cock, I lowered myself onto it. It hurt—at first—and he gripped my hips, whispering, "Slowly. Slowly."

Amazed, I realized that my body was once again on fire with need for him. Real need that this time I knew would be answered. As I began to ride him he gripped me, his hand wrapped tightly around my erection. I threw back my head, my moans matching his. We moved together, matching stroke for stroke then with a shout he came and I joined him seconds later.

After what seemed like both forever and too short a time I came down, falling forward onto his chest as we both fought to catch our breaths. He wrapped his arms around me as I tucked my face into the crook of his neck.

“See, Del,” he said softly, “all you needed was someone who cared.”

I twisted my head to look up at him. “And I think I’ve found him.”

He smiled. “You have.”

(74) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

Trev had been back from Chicago for a week and things were back to normal. Well normal for us. Until tonight.

“I’m…I…”

“Del we don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

Trev tipped my chin up, his face showing both desire and understanding.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” I whispered.

“That could never happen.” He kissed me very gently, as if wanting to show me he was willing to take whatever answer I gave him and accept it.

In return I wrapped my arms around his neck, brushing my own kiss across his lips. He smiled—I could feel it—and then deepened the kiss slowly, the tip of his tongue tracing the curve of my mouth seeking entrance. I opened slowly to him. He pressed the advantage, dancing his tongue over mine, causing shivers that seemed to slide down from there straight to my heart. I felt it begin to beat harder and answered his tongue’s dance with my own, rediscovering the taste that was uniquely his. When I moaned softly it was matched by one of his own.

With one swift movement, not allowing our mouths to separate, he lifted me into his arms, carrying me to the bedroom. Gently he lowered me until I was again standing in front of him. With a sigh I broke the kiss. He allowed that, instead roaming his lips over my face as if using them to learn each and every contour.

He stepped back then, gazing at me. I felt myself blush and he chuckled softly. “You are so handsome,” he said and the heat spread down from my face.

With a tenderness that I think perhaps only I have ever seen in him, he ran his fingers up my arms to my shoulders. Then with infinite slowness he undid the buttons on my shirt, his eyes following the movements of his hands. His tongue flicked over his lips as if they were suddenly dry when he reached the last button. He slid the shirt off my shoulders and I let it drop to the floor.

“So wonderful,” he said as he looked at me. “So perfect.” He raised his eyes to my face, smiling as he bent to kiss me again. When he’d taken my mouth fully, hungrily, he lifted me on to the bed, laying my down before straddling me, his hands caressing my shoulders. Then he bent, his tongue brushing my nipples. I moaned and he chuckled low, teasing the tips of his fingers over each nipple then. I felt a shot of pleasure that went straight to my groin.

“I think you like that,” he murmured before taking one in his mouth, suckling it. Never had a man taken the time to do this to me. It was an amazing sensation that had me gasping with need for more. He obliged, teasing, tasting each nipple, biting gently without hurting me, only increasing the pleasure and my desire for more of him.

I pressed my hands against his chest, urging him away enough so that I could reach the hem of his shirt and pull it up. He smiled, helping me strip it off of him. His chest was well defined with just the lightest dusting of hair. Running my hands over it I traced the lines of muscle, circling a finger tip around his nipples then teasing them until they were taut nubs. He gasped and bit his lip and I grinned. “Turn about is fair play, baby,”

Sitting back on his heels he grinned back. “Indeed?” He teased my nipples again until I was writhing beneath his hands. It felt so good, but…Then he slid them down to the waist band of my jeans, undoing the button and sliding the zipper down. I lifted my hips so he could pull them down. He tugged down my briefs, his eyes now on mine as he stroked his fingers over my flaccid cock.

I know I frowned because he ceased his hand's movement, concern written on his face. “Do you want me to stop?” I shook my head slightly, afraid to tell him. He cupped my face in his hands. “What is it Del?”

“I…” I sighed. “That felt so good, but…but it won’t do anything.” I touched his lips before he could say anything. “I’ve never…I can’t…”

(73) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

I fucking hurt. Everywhere. Now I know how my father must have felt. Makes me better able to tolerate it. Thinking that. How much I’d hurt the bastard.

I try to get up. Mychael helps though he doesn’t want to. “You shouldn’t move.” Scowling.

“Screw that. I want a piece of that son of a bitch.” Damn. Pain everywhere. Stagger. “Coat,” I order. He helps me get it on.

I see Dalca then. No one else can. Limp to join Vik. “There.” Said under my breath with a minute nod towards the corner.

Vik acknowledges with a fast glance in that direction. Whispers, “Still?”

Another nod. “Coward’s watching only.”

He turns away as if looking for more enemies. Pete has picked up on it. Does the same. “Protect him.” Telling Mychael. Nodding at me.

I’m feeling better. Healing now. Hold out my hand. Mychael still scowling. But gives me a gun. I lean on him. Watching. Raise the gun and fire.

Not my best shot ever. But it hits Dalca. Just low. His eyes widen as he grabs his gut. He becomes visible. 

I grin mirthlessly.

Vik swivels at the sound. Sees Dalca. Set a Vampyre to kill a Vampyre. Before Dalca can straighten he’s lost his head. And that’s all she wrote as the saying goes.

Well almost. A couple of the other Vampyres realize what’s happened. Flee like scared rabbits. Two disintegrate immediately. Must have been his Children. Those that fight on, die at the hands of Larkin and his men.

It’s finished now. Larkin comes over. High fives me. Grinning. “We won.”

“Thanks to you.”

“And you and your friends. We’d never have found him without your help.”

Vik joins us. Dressed now more or less. “We’ll celebrate later.”

Larkin looks up at him. Smiles just a bit. “Never thought I’d say this to a Vampyre, but you done good.”

He nods. “We aren’t all bad, whether you believe it or not. But I need to leave.”

“We all do,” Pete says.

“Him especially though.” I feel the tug of dawn even though it doesn’t affect me.

Larkin gets it. Thanks us again. Vik hands me my sword. I sheath it. Wincing. Still feeling the aftermath of Dalca’s game.

We leave.

I wonder what someone will think when they find that place. Mychael insists we leave the doors open so they can. I agree. One less place for the bastards to hide.

(72) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

I feel like a fucking pincushion. Only worse. The bastard’s right, because I’m close to begging now. Only not going to give him that pleasure. I keep my gaze focused on Vik. If I watch Dalca and his damned knife…

Vik’s up to something. Looks like he’s got one hand free. But if he moves it, some of the bastard Vampyres not watching Dalca and me might see.

He needs a distraction. Fuck. Guess Dalca gets his wish.

The blade points at a part of my anatomy I’d rather he leave alone. Pricks lightly at first. I let out a yell. Start begging him not to. Pleading loudly. Shaking. Trying to pull away. Every move is torment. He laughs.

I take my eyes off the knife long enough to flash a glance at Vik before screaming again. The tip of the blade pierces. Agony. Close to passing out. Can’t do that. Not now. Vik’s freed his other hand.

A loud crash.

Men swarm in. I see Larkin. Vik’s lovers. Others. Mutter, “The cavalry has arrived.”

“Not in time for you, Dhampir,” Dalca says. Rage in his eyes. In his movements. The blade raises. Aimed at my heart.

* * * *

The second the door slammed open Vik moved swiftly to the pile of clothes, glad that for whatever reason only his hands had been bound to the cross. Foolish on Dalca’s part, or overconfidence in his powers.

As the guys and their backup spread around the room Vik grabbed Trevor’s coat, pulling his sword free. He spun around ready to do battle.

“Hell no,” he hissed as he saw what Dalca intended.

In a flash he was there, the sword speeding down to knock Dalca’s blade aside. The Vampyre howled in rage, spinning to face Vik.

Larkin and his people began to deal with the Vampyres. Though the odds were in the Vampyres’ favor, they were facing men with only one goal in life, to see to their eradication. Swords and knives clanged, the noise of guns being fired echoed through the dungeon.

Mychael and Pete fought their way to Vik’s side. “This the bastard we want?” Pete growled, aiming his gun at Dalca.

Suddenly Dalca vanished.

“What the hell!” Pete spun around looking for him, as did Vik.

Mychael turned his attention to Trevor, loosening his restraints and lowering him to the concrete floor. “You look like death warmed over,” he commented.

“Thanks,” Trevor replied wryly through clenched teeth. “You look like an angel. Don’t suppose you have healing powers, mine seem to be taking a break at the moment.”

“Given the number of cuts on you, I’m not surprised. Can’t do much but cover you for now.” Mychael looked around, spotting Trevor’s coat, and dashed to get it, narrowly avoiding a Vampyre’s flailing sword. He raced back to toss it over Trevor.

“My sword,” Trevor mumbled.

“I’d bet it’s the one Vik has. He’s hardly dressed enough to have had that hidden on him.”

Even through his pain Trevor was able to smile at that.

Vik was definitely underdressed to be fighting but it didn’t seem to stop him. He and Pete were tense, scanning the room for where Dalca would reappear. They were certain he wouldn’t just run. If nothing else, it wouldn’t be good for his reputation with the others of his kind. Beside, Vik figured, the Vampyre would want to finish what he’d started.

Release day for 'The PI and the Prof'

The PI and the Prof

http://firebornpublishing.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_bookx_info&cPath=5&products_id=289

Private investigator Sal Cochran is hired to find Tim Murphy, a missing college student. Before he can, Tim's body turns up--drowned. At first Sal believes it was just an accident, until he begins to dig deeper and discovers that Tim is the fifth young man to have died the same way within the past two months.

With the help of his older lover, Professor Greg Ferguson, Sal starts searching for the serial killer he believes is murdering gay young men. Will Sal be able to convince police detective Ethan Park there really is a serial killer on the loose? And, more to the point, can Sal find the man before he kills again, and not become one of his victims in the process? Only time will tell.

EXCERPT:

"Whoever invented Halloween should be shot at sunrise," Sal grumbled when the doorbell rang yet again. Setting down his beer, he went to answer it, picking up the bowl of candy from the entryway table on the way. 

"Trick or treat," a youngster in a pirate costume said, holding out a plastic pumpkin. At least Sal figured he was supposed to be a pirate from what he could see of the costume not covered by the boy's warm jacket. The eyepatch was the biggest clue.

"Please?" A little girl, dressed as a princess and wearing a pink winter jacket, added, looking at what Sal presumed was her brother. "Mommy said..." She held out a pink goodie bag. 

"Please?" The pirate rattled the half-full plastic pumpkin. 

Sal dropped a couple of miniature candies into each container, smiling when they said "Thank you," in unison. He was about to step back inside when he saw three more kids approaching the house. Five minutes later, having dealt with them and another set, he was free to go back the TV show he'd been watching. 

By nine, the stream of kids had dribbled down to a couple every fifteen minutes or so, and his candy bowl was empty, so he turned off the porch light. My own damned fault for turning it on in the first place. I'm a sucker for kids, I guess. Well, once a year, anyway.

*****

"I see you survived the terrors of Halloween," said Tara, Sal's Girl Friday aka receptionist and secretary, when he got to work Monday morning.

"That, yes. This"--he waved a hand toward the window in the waiting room--"not so much." He meant the snow that was drifting down and, according to the weather forecasters, was expected to get worse by the end of the day. "How the hell can it be fifty last night and thirty this morning?"

She shrugged. "Polar vortex? The jet stream? Bad luck? Global warming?"

"Let me tell you. It ain't warm out there."

"No kidding. Danny suggested this morning that I get out our thermal underwear." 

Taking off his overcoat, Sal hung it in the closet next to his office before saying, "I don't suppose--"

"I made coffee? Open your eyes." She pointed to the table along the far wall that held a coffeemaker--with a full pot sitting on it--as well as creamer and sugar for their clients. 

"You're a doll, doll."

"Oh, God. You're going into Sam Spade mode." 

He laughed, shaking his head, then got a cup from the shelf above the table. After filling it, he took a drink before heading into his office. "Let me know when Mr Malcolm gets here."

"Naw. I think I'll keep him out here to entertain me."  

 

"I'm telling Danny," he replied in a sing-song voice, earning him a grin and a lifted finger from Tara. 

By noon, Sal had seen two clients--one of whom he gave a final report on their case. He filled the other one in on what he'd found out about the man's three employees, one of whom the client was certain was stealing from him. The man just couldn't pin it down to which one, which was why he'd hired Sal. In the interim, between meetings, Sal had run background checks on potential hires for another regular client who owned five retail stores in the city. 

"I'm heading to the deli," he told Tara. "Want me to pick something up for you?" 

He asked the same question almost every day, getting the same reply ninety-nine times out of a hundred. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll go when you get back." 

"Don't say I didn't ask," he replied while putting on his overcoat and pulling the collar up against the inclement weather. "I'll be back in thirty or less."

*****

Greg heard his office door open and looked up from the paper he was grading. Laura Murphy, one of his colleagues in the Natural and Health Sciences department at the university, stood there. She seemed worried, even close to distraught, he thought. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, nodding to the chair by his desk. 

"It's Tim. He's... He hasn't come home."

Greg knew that Tim was her son and a senior at the university. A single parent since her husband's death two years ago, Laura was doing her best to support Tim until he graduated. 

"Sit and tell me," Greg replied, again nodding to the chair. "Do you mean last night?" he asked when she did. 

"It's been two nights now. He...he was going out with some friends to celebrate one of their birthdays that fell on Halloween. Nate, his best friend, said that when Tim left the bar he was..." She hesitated.

"He'd had a bit too much to drink?" He frowned. "Is he even old enough to go to a bar?"

She sighed. "Yes. He turned twenty-one three months ago."

"I presume you've tried calling him."

"Of course. He must have his phone turned off." 

"Did this Nate say if Tim left alone?"

"Yes. He says he made Tim promise to call a cab instead of driving. He doesn't know if Tim did. The rest of the group--those who were still there--left soon after, since it was closing time. Nate said he didn't see Tim, so he figured he'd found a cab."

"Have you talked to the police?"

She nodded. "This morning. They... Since he's of age, there's not much they can do, according to the officer I talked with. He asked if Tim might be with a girlfriend. I told him it would be a boyfriend, if he had one--not that it matters, of course. But, anyway, the officer suggested I get in touch with Tim's friends to see if any of them have seen him."

"Which you did, I presume."

"Of course. None of them have. He wasn't in any of his classes this morning, either. It's like he's vanished off the face of the earth." Laura looked at Greg. "I know I shouldn't be putting any of this on your shoulders, but I thought, maybe...because your boyfriend..." She smiled weakly. 

"Man friend?"

Greg smiled. "Either one works. You hope maybe Sal can help you find Tim?" 

"Do you think he'd be willing to try? I can pay him--if he's not too expensive."

"Why don't I call and see? If he is willing, I can set up an appointment for you."

(71) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

“Over here,” Mychael said in a whisper, pressing his hand against the wall at the end of the basement hallway.

Pete, Larkin and the others joined him as the wall slid open revealing a door. Mychael opened it cautiously, seeing long flight of stairs.

“How did you find this,” Pete asked quietly.

“My trusty iPhone and the internet. This building’s old enough to have had a fallout shelter, which I'm betting is what Dalca is using, though I suspect he’s made some improvements on it. It was just a case of finding where the entrance had been at one time.”

“Clever,” Larkin said, “I’m impressed.”

As they began moving down the stairs Pete asked, “Any clue what we’ll find at the bottom of these?”

“In a general sort of way. Since it was for the people who worked here back then, there were three large rooms. I’m sure they don’t look at all like they did though, if he’s living or at least has his headquarters here.”

By then they were at the bottom of the stairs. A large steel door greeted them. Pete knelt to study the lock and then took out his case, removing what he needed, muttering, “I’m thinking it’s just locked, not alarmed.”

“If it’s alarmed we’ll be caught like rats in a trap,” Larkin pointed out softly.

Pete nodded, concentrating on what he was doing. A few moments later he pulled the lever and the door opened on well oiled hinges. He slipped into the room and then beckoned the rest to follow.

“Headquarters I’d say, not a residence, if this is any indication,” one of the men commented as they looked around. It appeared to be a typical office with desks, file cabinets, the works. “He’s organized, I’ll give him that.”

“Let’s see what behind door number two,” Pete said as he cracked it open a hair. He closed it quickly.

“How many,” Mychael asked as he touched the butt of his gun.

“Only three that I saw, which isn’t bad, but we need to hit them hard and fast, and silently.” He pulled his knife. “On three.” He raised his fingers one by one then slammed the door open.

He’d missed one but it didn’t take long for the group of men to dispatch them all none the less. A short, relatively bloodless fight and the four Vampyres were destroyed.

This room had two doors. When Pete checked he found one led to what looked like any boardroom of a large company. Off of it he discovered a small suite of rooms that Dalca apparently used as a temporary residence. All those rooms were empty.

“One door left. Be ready, I doubt those four were all the Vampyres here. I suspect wherever they have Vik and Wallace is where we’ll find the rest.” He opened the last door to discover another flight of stairs.

(70) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

“Who was your decorator, Attila the Hun,” I wisecrack, even though I find the ambiance far from amusing.

“Just a few things I brought to the new world with me,” Dalca tells me as he tightens the strap on my wrist. Then he turns to look at Vik. “Ever seen a man drained of blood one prick at a time?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Really? You’ll have to tell me about it sometime. Or probably not since you’ll be dead before you can.” Dalca turns his attention back to me.

I see Vik testing the bonds holding him. Hope he finds one is weak. He glances at the pile of clothing in the corner. I'm grateful that Dalca’s minions have just stripped us without searching first. I'm sure that's what Vik's thinking, too. The long coat Vik had been wearing, my coat actually. My sword hidden in a special sheath inside. Now if Vik can get his arm loose while Dalca is putting all his concentration into ‘playing’, as he calls it, with me…

“Now if you were full Vampyre this would take much longer because I’d be using silver,” Dalca says as he pricks my skin, smiling cruelly as a drop of blood forms and slowly crept down, followed by another.

I watch, tensing as Dalca weaves the blade back and forth before sticking me again. This time a bit more forcefully. The next one's even deeper and longer. Blood streaming quickly.

Dalca frowns. “This will end too soon even with your healing powers unless…” He turns and points. One of his minions brings him a small bottle of clear liquid. “They tell me salt cauterizes wounds. Shall we test the theory?” Dalca dribbles a few drops of saltwater over the cuts. I bite my lip, trying not to hiss in pain.

“I think I’m going to get a great deal of pleasure with this. Too bad you won’t enjoy it as much as me.” Dalca circles the blade around one of my nipples. Chuckles malevolently when I try to pull away. “I won’t slice it off, yet,” he comments. Instead makes two small cuts, one on either side. Waits for the blood to flow, and then pours on the saltwater.

Bite down hard on my lip to keep from making any sound. I'm not going to give Dalca that pleasure again.

The Vampyre scowls. “It’s no fun if you don’t scream.” He digs the knife in deeply between two ribs. Twists it as he does.

I hiss loudly. Curse vehemently as the saltwater burns into the cut.

“Now that’s more like it. You have iron will power but in the end you’ll be begging me to stop.”

“I told you, never.”

“Time will tell.” Dalca’s blade strikes again.

(69) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

“No way we’re getting through there,” Pete growled as he watched the gate close behind car carrying Vik and Trevor. “It’ll have more alarms than Fort Knox.” He did a U-turn heading back up to State Street. “Call in the troops. Now. The building they’re in has to be…” Pete pulled to a halt on State Street to study them. “That one. Tell them get their asses here on the double. I don’t care if they have to break every speed limit, I have a feeling things are going south real fast for Vik and Wallace.”

Mychael shook his head but did as ordered, while Pete found a place to park. Then they walked to the front of the building. From the outside it looked like a typical office building with a couple of eateries on the ground floor.

“Wait,” Pete said before pushing the entrance door open.

“Call. Wait. Bossy man,” Mychael muttered, but he did, leaning back against the wall as he scanned the area for anything they should be aware of.

Pete was back in under two minutes. “Found the stairs down. They lead to the basement but that’s all. There has to be another way other than that gate on Wacker.”

“My turn,” Mychael replied, heading inside before Pete could stop him.

Pete growled to himself, taking up Mychael’s spot on the wall. He frowned when he saw a patrol car speed down the street and slam to a stop. Four men tumbled out, looking around before spotting him. One of them walked over.

“You Mychael or Pete,” he asked without preamble.

“Pete, and you are?”

“Frank Larkin, your go-between. We have a dozen more on their way. Should be here within minutes. We’ve been waiting for your call. Where’s Trevor? Inside already?”

“Yeah, and a prisoner as per the plan. What’s with the cop car?”

“I have friends who know about Vampyres and want them eradicated. All of them.”

Pete frowned. “There’s one in there that’s not up for grabs. Didn’t Wallace tell you?”

“Yeah, so I guess if you point him out we’ll leave him be.”

Pushing a finger into Larkin’s chest Pete growled, “No guessing. He lives or you die. End of story.”

Larkin would have said something but just then two more cars pulled up, dumping out another nine men. From what Pete could tell they were armed to the teeth and the looks on their faces said they were ready to do battle.

“What kind of ammo,” he asked.

“Only the best, silver, as are the blades of the knives.”

“Got it!” Mychael said, and then pulled to a stop seeing all the men.

“Then let’s get with the program, you lead we’ll follow.”

(68) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

“Welcome,” a voice said from the back of the long room. Then Dalca stepped into view. He was an imposing figure even if he was an inch or two shorter than Vik. There was a timeless regality about him that spoke to his age, and that he was an elder if not an ancient. Vik felt that immediately.

The Vampyre holding Trevor bowed his head for a moment before thrusting Trevor forward. “I have a present for you, Dalca. A Dhampir.” He yanked on Trevor’s bound arms, forcing him to the floor in front of Dalca.

Dalca smiled coldly as he looked down at Trevor and then at Vik. “And this other,” he questioned.

“The one who captured the Dhampir and gave him to me. I would have kept the Dhampir but I thought you might enjoy playing with him before you eliminate him.”

“That was not part of the bargain,” Vik growled.

“There was no ‘bargain’,” the lesser Vampyre said with a grin. “This one,” he grabbed Trevor’s hair, pulling his head back, “was mine and now he’s Dalca’s. You lose.”

“They both lose,” Dalca said. “Young One your shields are excellent for one your age but not totally impervious to one as old as I. I do not know details, but I do know that this Dhampir is a friend of yours, not a foe. Whatever trap you thought you were setting for me is foiled.”

Dalca turned to the Vampyres standing at attention along one wall of the room. “Take them both to the dungeon, as well as the fool who brought them here.”

“No, Master please, I didn’t know.” Dalca’s underling dropped to his knees in supplication.

Dalca just smiled as his Vampyres stepped forward. When they had all three in hand, he stepped up to Trevor. “If you had come alone, foolish Dhampir, you might have succeeded. I hear you are quite clever. Yes,” he grinned when Trevor looked at him in surprise, “I know who you are. I know of all those of your kind who hunt us. Now you and you friend will suffer greatly. I love playing with my captives. It will be interesting to see how long it takes before you beg for death.”

“Never,” Trevor hissed.

“Never say never. They all do in the end.” Dalca waved his hand. “Take them away.”

(67) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

The drive north to the city was done swiftly. When they got onto State Street Vik asked how much further. The Vampyre turned to look back at him, grinning. “In a hurry to get rid of your prisoner?”

Vik shrugged. “He’s neither here nor there actually, just an added treat. I’m more interested in getting this over with and passing on the bit of information I have for your boss, so I can get back to my own life.”

“You’re in luck, we’re almost there.” The Vampyre’s face hinted that he was more than looking forward to what was to come.

A slight shift from Trevor caused Vik to glance at him. Trevor tipped his head back slightly, which Vik took to be a question about whether Mychael and Pete were still following. He moved enough so that he could check the side mirrors then nodded once. He saw a bike darting in and out of traffic behind them, Trevor’s bike in point of fact, as they’d arranged. He’d spotted it a couple of other times, and then it had vanished. He had to give Pete kudos, the man knew what he was doing when it came to tailing. He just hoped neither the Vampyre nor his driver realized it was the same bike each time it appeared.

At a traffic light the car stopped, waiting, then the driver turned right onto Wacker Drive, taking the lane to the lower level. He slowed, touching a button on the dash, then made a quick turn left off the Drive when a gate slid open. Seconds later it was closed again behind them. They were in a small, enclosed space that held three other cars. Ahead was a door marked with a faded sign indicating it was, or had been, part of a fallout shelter from the 1950’s. 

After they’d parked, the driver opened the back door, waiting for Vik to get out. The Vampyre did the same on the other side, dragging Trevor out then slamming the door. He smiled slightly at Vik over the top of the car.

“Sorry for the change of plans but this one is mine now until I turn him over to Dalca.”

Vik scowled, taking a step towards him only to be stopped by the driver who pressed the barrel of his gun against his chest. Vik looked down, tempted to take it away, which he could have easily. But he knew that would only blow the whole gig. He looked at the man, resignation in his face as if he was ceding to the moment. His only worry right now was how Pete and Mychael would find them. He hoped they would enter what he assumed was the building that the door led to and find their way down. And with Trevor’s people in tow. If not, then he and Trevor were in deep trouble.

The driver moved behind him, now pressing the gun into his back as he steered him towards the door. The Vampyre had a firm grip on Trevor as he moved to join them.

(66) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

Vik pulls me from the car. I’m not liking this one bit. Hands tied behind my back. Helpless. No weapons. At least he’s armed. With his and mine.

He pushes me forward. Punks on the stoop stand. Eyes hard. Hands ready though no weapons pulled. Yet. One whistles three notes then two. A signal. The door to the house opens.

A tall man stands there. Atypical Vampyre, but Vampyre none the less. Kindly looking. Short brown hair. Glasses. Cross hanging on a cord around his neck. Living up to his press apparently. He looks at us. Stares. Nods once. Points to two of his followers and says something. They come forward.

“He says you’re to come inside with your prisoner,” one of them tells Vik.

Vik propels me forward to the house. I put up a show of resistance. One punk grabs my arm.

“Back off, this one’s mine,” Vik hisses. Punk backs off.

The Vampyre leads us inside. Looks me over. Cold dead eyes. Takes us to his office. Sends his punks away.

“Welcome fellow traveler,” he looks at Vik. “Who is this?” A nod at me. “And why bring him here?”

“This is a Dhampir. I caught him…” He tells the Vampyre the story. Ends with, “I thought he’d make a nice gift for your boss.”

“And just what do you know of my boss, assuming I have one.” Fingers drumming the desk.

“Word gets around,” Vik replies. Knowing smile. “I want to meet him. I have something he might be interested in—well other than this creature here that is.”

I snarl. “You’re the creature.”

He backhands me. Not as hard as it looks to the Vampyre. I play that it is. The Vampyre smiles.

“And what if I want to keep this one for myself? My boys could use a training dummy. They’re getting a bit lax if they let him take them down.” Sneering.

Vik laughs. “An idea but no deal. If you don’t take me to your boss I’ll find another one of his underlings that will. I just figured, since I was in the neighborhood and you were so close… But if you’re not interested…” He shrugs. Grabs my arm. Ready to leave.

“Hold on, I never said I wasn’t interested.” I see the glint in his eyes. Anger. Greed. Not liking the ‘underling’ comment. Thinking how handing me over will boost his caché with Dalca. How we both will. “Wait outside while I make a call.”

Vik drags me out. Pushes me against the wall by the door. The punks watching. I can’t let Vik know I get it. Listen to the Vampyre's call. Good ears here. One of the perks. The Vampyre’s arguing. Wanting to convince Dalca to let him bring us there. Crawling a little. Verbally. But he prevails. Hangs up. I nod once to Vik. Mouth, “We’re in.”

The Vampyre comes out of the office. “He wants to see you and your prisoner.” The way he says ‘prisoner’ doesn’t bode well. “I’ll take you there.”

“I have a car, I’ll follow you.”

The Vampyre shakes his head. “You’ll go with me. My boys will watch your car.”

Vik frowns. Yanks me away from the wall. “Alright. But no tricks. This one is mine, I hand him over.”

“Of course.” But the look on the Vampyre’s face says otherwise.

I glance at Vik. He’s seen it too. His mouth tightens. “Let’s get this over with.”

(65) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

I nod. Vik wants in. Good. “Possible, but why?”

“I may be a Vampyre, but that doesn’t mean I like most of my kind. I have no use for anyone human or Vampyre who tries to subjugate others in any way. This particular one seems to be even worse than most. If between us we can destroy him and his empire, I’d feel a lot happier.”

I hear Pete sigh. Look at him.

“There goes the vacation for all of us.”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to be involved. Vik and I can do this on our own.”

“Yeah, right. In your dreams. Even with the four of us, it’ll be chancy at best, unless you have friends to throw in the mix as backup.”

“That can be arranged. But first I have to make my intros to his subordinate.”

“And that’s where I come in.” It’s obvious Vik has been thinking. “You walk in there after the message you sent, they’ll kill you before you can get a word in edgewise and you know that, if you have a grain of common sense.” He smiles, “Which I think you do. But if I take you in as my prisoner…”

“And just how are you going to explain catching me?”

He taps a finger on his lips. “Saw what you did to those punks, knew what you were. So I followed you back to where you’re staying, got the drop on you and that’s all she wrote.”

I consider that. Nod slowly. “Could work.” Look out the window. It’s almost dark now. “Yeah it just might. Let me make a call and let my partner know what’s going down. He’ll arrange for backup for us. You two,” I glance at Pete and Mychael. “How are you at tailing?”

“The best in the business.” Pete grins.

“No modesty there.” Mychael chuckles but it’s all in his voice not his eyes. He looks scared. Not good.

“If you don’t think you can handle this you stay here.” Staring at the kid.

“Hell no. I’m in this till the end. Okay, so I don’t like it but I’m as good as the rest of you.”

Vik nods. “He is and I’d trust him and Pete with my life. They’re both in.”

I shrug. “Your call. Let’s figure out the logistics of this then I’ll make my call.”

It's release day for 'Making the Rent the Hard Way'!

Making the Rent the Hard Way

http://firebornpublishing.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_bookx_info&cPath=4&products_id=285

 

I was hired to find a missing shifter by the name of Luca Montana. Mr Farnham, the shifter who hired me, says Luca's his friend and he's worried about him. He had reason to be worried. Luca's not his friend, and he's found out something that could ruin my client's plans to have shifters take over the city.

Finding Luca wasn't all that hard. Saving him--and the city--from Farnham's machinations could turn out to be deadly. Then there's the problem of Luca himself and my growing attraction to him.

Yeah, making the rent definitely has its ups and downs.

EXCERPT:

Ever have one of those days when you wonder why you even bother to get out of bed in the morning? If you have, you know where I'm coming from.

To start with, Carol--my girl Friday, as I affectionately thought of her--up and quit on me. She called this morning--Wednesday, to be exact--just as I was fixing breakfast, to say she'd been going crazy with nothing to do, so she'd gone looking for another job and found one.

Things had been slow and that's the truth. I think maybe it's because people are looking for detectives like the ones they see on TV--tall, dark, and handsome. Sexy. They want to walk into a fancy office suite and see a buxom woman at the front desk, then be taken into an office that looks like something out of an architectural magazine to talk to a suave dude who reminds them of James Bond or Remington Steele. I wouldn't mind if my agency was like that. Hell, I wouldn't mind if I was sexy. It might help. But I'm just your average Joe, running a now one-person business.

So anyway, there I was, wondering where I'd find another gal willing to work for cheap as my secretary slash receptionist. Probably nowhere, but I had to at least make a stab at looking.

As soon as I got to my office, I called to put a Help Wanted ad in the local papers. Then, being at very loose ends at the moment, I sat down at my computer to check the state of my finances. I knew they were bad, but when I saw exactly how bad... Maybe I could have dealt with it if the first of the month wasn't coming up, which meant I had to pay rent. A fast bit of math told me that it was the rent or eating and, like most people, I do like at least one meal a day. That was looking very iffy right now if I wanted to keep my agency alive.

I had two cases I was working on. One was the sleazy "is my husband playing around?" type, which I hate, but it does bring in the pennies. The other one was setting up security cameras for a new client so he could stop shoplifters in his mom-and-pop grocery store. I'd spent several nights on the first one. Said husband probably was cheating on his wife--I would, if I were him--but not with his business partner like the wife suspected. So far I hadn't been able to get any photos of him with anyone else in compromising positions. He and the business partner had gone to a local bar after work one evening, but he'd gone home right after that. Setting up the security for the shopkeeper would happen this afternoon.

Disgusted, as I did the math again and came up with the same answer, I wondered, not for the first time, if I was in the wrong business. When I'd started out two years ago I had dreams of being another Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe--or Sherlock Holmes, as if. That was not happening.

I leaned back, staring up at the ceiling of my tiny office, when I heard the door from the hallway open. I spun around, got to my feet, and went to see who was there.

A huge man was framed in the doorway as he looked around. When I say huge, he made Dwayne Johnson look like a ninety-pound weakling. I was about to greet him when he turned to say to someone, "It's safe, boss," then stepped into the waiting room.

A moment later a well-dressed dude about my age--meaning in his early thirties--came into view. He had black hair, a small mustache, and dark brown eyes under thick eyebrows. Even though I'm human, I knew he wasn't. I can sense shifters a mile off if I can see them. It was a good talent to have--and, as far as I know, a unique one for a human.

"Mr Warner?" the man asked. When I admitted I was, he said, "A pleasure to meet you."

That set off my radar. No one starts a conversation with a small-time PI by saying that. At least, no one I've ever run into.

"And you are?" I asked him.

"Richard Farnham." He looked around then gestured to my office. "If you don't mind."

"That's fine. I'm not sure your bruiser will fit in there with the two of us. It's pretty small."

Farnham chuckled. "He'll stay where he is."

I nodded, taking Farnham into my office. When we were seated--me at my desk, him in the only other chair--he said, "I want to hire you to find someone, Mr Warner."

"Please call me Cade." He nodded, so I asked, "Is he, or she, human or otherwise?"

He smiled. "I've heard you have the ability to know who's who or who's what."

"I do. I know you're a shifter. Gray wolf?" He nodded. I smiled wryly. "Not that my ability had done me much good except as a party trick, but that's neither here nor there. Who did you lose?"

"A...friend of mine by the name of Luca Montana," Farnham said. I wasn't happy about the slight hesitation before he said "friend", but I kept my thoughts to myself for the time being.

 

(64) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

Vik awoke instantly, seeing the waning rays of the sun against the shade and drawn curtains. Another day in Paradise. He chuckled before his senses picked up the presence of someone else in the house beside those who belonged there. “What the hell,” he muttered as he quickly dressed.

Going down the stairs he stopped three from the bottom when he saw the familiar shape of his past nemesis, and now sort of friend, sitting on the sofa.

“If you tell me you’re after me again I’m going to be real pissed,” he said once he knew Mychael’s parents weren’t there to hear him.

Trevor turned, smiling wryly. “Not this time. I have bigger fish to fry.”

Vik crossed the room, stopping to kiss Mychael and Pete before dropping into a vacant chair. He smiled to himself at the look on Trevor’s face. The Dhampir would never get completely used to the threesome idea. He had to give him points though for trying not to react to it too much.

“Here in the city I presume. But why are you here in this house?”

“Coincidence, bad luck, good luck, not quite sure which yet. I was dealing with a couple of gangbangers in what turned out to be Mychael’s folk’s back alley. Why was I even in the neighborhood?” Trev continued before Vik could ask, “One of your kind lives a few blocks from here and I need to get to him to get info on the one I’m after.”

Pete shook his head, half amused, half impressed. “Seems he gave the punks he took down a message for this Vampyre.”

Trevor nodded. “It was spur of the moment but might get me in.”

“Or dead,” Mychael added.

“That too. Something I’m going to try to avoid.”

Vik looked between them, shaking his head. “Fill me in on the details.”

Trevor did.

“You are stone crazy,” Vik said when he was finished. “But…”

“Oh no you don’t. This is a vacation.” The glare Pete gave Vik would have quelled most men. But most men weren’t Vik.

Trevor smiled. “But you want in?”

“I do,” Vik replied.

(63) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

I turn fast. Who the hell knows me here? See two men. Grimace. Walk the bike over to them.

“Now I know who the new Vampyre in town is. What the hell are you all doing here?”

“I could ask the same.” Pete gives me a glaring look. “If you’re after him. Naw, you aren’t or you’d have known he was here. You may be shifty but I think your surprise was real.”

“Shifty huh? I didn’t know you cared.” I grin. Sober. “But why are you here?”

Mychael speaks up. “Visiting my family.”

“Must be nice.” Muttering. Look at them. “How long are you sticking around?”

“Until we leave. We don’t have a real schedule. Why?”

Tap my lips. Do I warn them? Yeah, why not. “There’s one bad dude of a Vampyre living not far from here. He runs the gang in this area.”

Mychael nods. “We sort of figured that one from what my father said. At least that is was a possibility he was a Vampyre. Is that why you’re here?”

“Yeah. Well not for him specifically. I’m after bigger fish. The main one.” I stop. See an older woman come out of the house. She looks worried.

Mychael turns. Goes to meet her. “It’s okay, Mama. He’s a friend of sorts.”

Of sorts. I chuckle. Guess maybe I am. Mychael brings her over. Introduces me to her.

She nods. Looks me over. “Do you live around here, Mr. Wallace?”

“No. I’m just visiting on business. I was going down the street and saw two punks rousting some kids so I stepped in. Otherwise I wouldn’t have run into them.” Nodding at Mychael and Pete. “On my way from there to there and…” Shrugging.

She sighs. “I wish someone would do that more often. There are too many of them around here now. Like an invasion. But what can we do? The police don’t seem to care.”

“Now Mama, that’s not true. But there are so many of them, from what Papa said. Like roaches. The cops can only do so much.”

I want to set him straight. But not in front of his mother. Might scare her more than she already is.

“Mr. Wallace, would you like to come inside or do you have to keep going to wherever ‘there’ is?” She smiles.

“I can stay for a few I guess.” Hell. Why not? I have to wait somewhere til dark.