(37) Two vampires, a ghoul and a shifter.

Feeling euphoric and energized, Linden paced while Piers watched and occasionally told him to sit down before he wore holes in the expensive carpet.

"What's taking him so long?" Linden asked, finally flopping down on the sofa across from the bed.

"Searching thousands of acres is no small job, even when he has vampires and the other shifters to help him," Piers pointed out in a calming voice.

"Yeah, but—okay, yeah." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa then looked at Piers. "We know where Dixon is."

"No we don't!" Piers said in denial. "He could be anywhere."

"Come on, you're fooling yourself if you really think that."

"Alright, maybe the revenant has him, but there's not a damned thing the two of us can do about it so get that out of your head right now."

Linden arched an eyebrow. "Reading my mind?" 

"I don't have to, I know you, especially when you're in this mood. Leave it to the experts. If the revenant has taken Dixon, they're the ones with the power to deal with him."

"They never have."

"They never had a reason to. Or, I suppose, they never had one that related to the people they're supposed to be guarding."

"That's a cynical outlook."

Piers nodded. "But still the truth."

"We can't just sit here," Linden exclaimed, jumping to his feet again.

"Yes. We. Can. Lin, be realistic. The revenant's an evil creature who'd survived for over five hundred years. He's bound to be powerful, a lot more so than either of us."

"But we're sneaky."

Piers rolled his eyes. "No. Absolutely not."

"Are you saying that as my master," Linden asked angrily.

"Fuck no, and fuck you for even suggesting that."

Heaving a sigh, Linden came to kneel beside Piers. "I'm sorry. I'm just scared, of the revenant, of what might be happening, of—everything right now I guess. Why isn't Helmut back yet?"

(36) Two vampires, a ghoul and a shifter.

Helmut landed them in one of the empty bedrooms on the second floor. Once the two young men had gotten their bearings again Pier's wanted to know exactly what kind of trouble was brewing.

"It's brewed. Dixon is missing."

Piers frowned. "Missing how?"

"According to the call I got from Mr. Pope, Dixon got angry about something and stormed off the manor house grounds. He did not however leave the estate grounds, according to Pope."

"So he could be off sulking somewhere? So what?"

"That's what I'm here to find out. Go to your rooms and I'll let you know the moment I find out anything."

Linden rolled his eyes, muttering, "Yes, sir," as he gave Helmut a mock salute.

"Boy," the shifter growled. "Just—do it. I don't want to be worrying about the two of you right now." When Linden's face fell, Helmut gave him a quick hug, murmuring, "Sorry, Lin, I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"I know," he replied. "I shouldn't have done that. Go, find him and bring him back."

"If I can, I will."

As soon as Helmut left, Piers suggested that he and Linden go to his room. "Among other things you need my blood. It's been a couple of days."

"You know," Linden chewed his lip as he followed Piers back to his room, "if this thing with Helmut really, well, works out, I could be in trouble."

Piers looked at him. "Why? If nothing else he could bring you to me if I'm not here."

"I suppose, but you and I are blood-bonded. Being with you, or around you, is part of the deal."

"Damn, Lin, you're not my slave." Piers frowned as he pushed open the door to his room. "Do you feel like you are? You never said you did."

"No." Linden thought about that. It was something that had never really crossed his mind. With no place to go, and no friends other than Piers and Roderick, being with them had just seemed natural. He smiled. "No, not at all."

"Thank goodness. I love having you with me, and I know there's more of a bond between us than just blood, but I never want you to feel trapped."

Linden hugged him tightly. "I've never felt that, not even at the beginning."

Impulsively, Piers kissed him. "I believe you," he said, before biting into his wrist and offering it to Linden.

(35) Two vampires, a ghoul and a shifter.

Piers watched as Linden and Helmut danced, a wave of unwanted but not totally unexpected jealously washing over him.

"Only one cure for that," he murmured under his breath as his eyes roved over the mass of male bodies. They landed on one man and he blinked in shock before realizing it wasn't Roderick, just someone with the same height and coloring. "Enough," he admonished himself, pushing his chair back, standing, and walking purposefully to the dance floor.

"Bonjour, jolie chose," someone said, and Piers felt an arm encircle his waist. "Danse avec moi?"

"Bien sûr." Piers turned, wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck, pressing tightly against him.

"Vous êtes Anglais?"

"American." Piers nipped his earlobe and ground against him, all the while smiling beguilingly.

"Ah, but of course. Only the Americans can make dancing both a seduction and a carnal experience."

"Very carnal, if you wish," Piers murmured in reply.

The man refrained from answering in words, instead putting his hands on Piers' shoulders to turn him, giving him a gentle push towards the side of the room.

It took only a few moments before they were entering the men's room and then a vacant stall. The man started to drop to his knees until Piers, with a shake of his head, pointed to the wall. Instantly understanding, the man loosened his belt, undid his slacks, and as they slid to the floor, pressed his hands against the wall, presenting his ass. Taking a small tube from his pocket, Piers lubed his fingers and shoved them deeply into the man, ignoring his gasp of pained surprise. As soon as he'd stretched him, he pulled his jeans down and thrust into the man's tight channel, pounding hard and fast. He knew what he was doing, taking all his anger out on his victim, but he couldn't help himself, and couldn't, wouldn't stop.

Suddenly firm hands gripped his hips from behind, pulling him free of the man. He came, his seed decorating the man's ass, and hissed angrily.

"Pull yourself together, feed if you need to but fast. We have to leave," Helmut told him quickly but firmly.

With a sharp nod, Piers spun the man around, sank his fangs into his throat, and drank. Then he wiped the man's memory and sealed the wound. After pulling up his jeans, he walked out of the stall, fastening them as he joined Linden who was leaning against one of the sinks.

"What's going on? Why the rush?"

"Trouble at the estate," Helmut replied before Linden could. He put an arm around each of their waists and seconds later they were gone.

Guardian Angels – Ambivalent - 14

Dizzy looked down, scuffing one ragged shoe against the floor. "He was… A man who said he was a new person here asked him if he knew where the door to the basement was. Which was weird." He looked up at the detective again. "I mean if you work here wouldn't you know? But anyway, Micky said he did and went off with the man."

Detective Massey had his notebook out by then. "Can you describe him?"

"Umm, he's old, like Mr. Jones old, about"—he looked around—"as tall as him." He pointed to Paddy. "He's got real dark hair and a really skinny mouth."

"Skinny mouth?"

"Yeah, like his lips are really…skinny."

"Whoa," Mike whispered, causing the detective to look at him.

"You know him, Mr. Desmond?"

"No but… If it's the same man, he was here looking for someone. A runaway named, umm, Michael…" Mike pretended to try to remember the last name. "Michael O'Donnell."

"Did he give you his name?"

"Yes. John Keefe. He said he'd been hired to find the kid."

"Did he describe the kid?"

"Better than that, he had a photo, an old one he said." When the detective looked questioningly at him, Mike replied honestly, "The kid was sort of plump, with long brown hair and dark-framed glasses."

Dizzy drew in a breath. "That sounds like Micky a year ago, sorta. Not the glasses but the rest and he told me he was blind as a bat because he lost his glasses and couldn't afford new ones so when he needed to see he"—he chewed his lip, ducking his head—"he copped a pair of reading glasses from a store."

Detective Massey didn't look particularly surprised at that revelation. "Was he wearing them today?" Dizzy nodded. "Did Micky ever tell you his real name?"

Dizzy shook his head. "We just always went by Micky and Dizzy." He looked defiantly at him. "That's my name…now. Dizzy. Oh, yeah, what you asked. Micky was wearing his glasses 'cause he was reading a comic book."

The detective smiled slightly. "It's okay, I won't press the name thing." Tapping his pen thoughtfully against his jaw, he said, "Micky could be short for Michael, or Mike."

"So this Keefe guy could have thought he'd found the kid he was looking for," Paddy said. "But why push him down the stairs, if that's what happened? And how did he get the door unlocked?"

"Both good questions, for which I don't have an answer yet," Detective Massey replied. "It definitely does look like the fall down the stairs wasn't an accident. But we won't know until we can talk to Micky." The detective looked at the assembled group of people. "Does anyone have anything to add that might help?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"All right. Then I'll be going." He handed a card to Mike and the two other shelter employees standing there. "If any of you think of anything, or hear anything, please give me a call."

It's release day for 'Love Was Not an Option'!

Love Was Not an Option

https://www.jms-books.com/erotic-romance-c-29_94/love-was-not-an-option-p-2503.html

 

GENRE: Gay Paranormal Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 38,787 words

 

To most people who know him, Nick Fontana is the owner of a prestigious advertising agency. To a select few, he’s known as Niko, a man who deals with very sensitive problems no one else can handle.

As a result, Nick has never found a man to love -- because he won't allow it to happen.

Then he meets flirtatious Greg Tyson while out running. He thinks nothing of it until Greg applies for a job at Nick's ad agency.

Greg is exactly what Nick is looking for in an employee. Hiring him, however, might turn out to be the biggest mistake of Nick's life ... or the beginning of something new, if Nick is willing to open himself up and let Greg in. Doing so will require an amount of trust Nick isn’t certain he can give without endangering Greg's life -- and losing his love -- in the process.

EXCERPT:

It was a beautiful Sunday morning for a run -- bright and sunny with enough of breeze to keep the temperature bearable.

Greg met Nick at the bottom of the trail. They were both in shorts and lightweight, breathable T-shirts, with running belts for their water bottles.

"Ready to test your stamina?" Nick asked.

Greg looked at the trail, which rose at a gentle slope as it entered the trees and smiled in apparent relief. "You bet."

Nick didn't have the heart to tell him it would get steeper and rougher a few yards in. He didn't think Greg would chicken out, but he wasn't willing to take the chance.

"Beat you to the top," Greg called out as he took off.

Nick raced after him, catching up and keeping pace with him as the trail wound through the trees and became increasingly more rugged. To his surprise, Greg showed no signs of slowing down until they were more than half way up. At that point, he began to flag, his breath coming out in short pants -- but he didn't quit running.

Nick was still moving easily and could have continued without any problem. However, he didn't want to Greg to feel as if he was trying to show off -- which he wasn't -- so he slowed his pace, feigning that he was beginning to feel the strain as well. He didn't let Greg win, but he was only a few paces ahead of him when they reached the clearing at the end of the trail. He collapsed against the closest tree, taking deep breaths, while Greg dropped to his knees, gasping.

"You okay?" Nick asked, going to kneel beside him, the concern in his voice very real.

"I ... will be," Greg managed to get out. "Damn ..." He shot Nick a look. "You didn't warn me about ..." He gestured at the steep slope behind them as he eased back until he was sitting and began massaging his calf.

"Here, let me," Nick said sitting cross-legged in front of him. He lifted Greg's leg onto his lap and set to work. "Charlie horse?" he asked when Greg let out a yelp of pain.

"Charlie elephant," Greg replied, biting down on his lip. Nick carefully worked on the knotted muscle until Greg sighed in relief, saying, "You're good. I think I'll keep you around in case it happens again." He winked.

Nick figured he was teasing, and so replied, "I have no problem with that, as long as the pay is adequate."

"I think I can come up with some sort of compensation." The moment the words were out of his mouth, Greg turned red, ducking his head. "Forget I said that," he muttered.

Should I, or do I ...? Nick took a deep breath. "Why? I think you were voicing what maybe we both feel. An attraction, perhaps only physical, perhaps more. Right?"

Greg looked up, nodding. "I know I definitely find you interesting, even though I've only known you a short time, and mostly at work where you're very, well stand-offish is the best way to put it."

"Because it is at work," Nick replied. "I make it a policy not to let any personal feelings, beyond the normal concern for my employee's lives, intervene. It's not good business to do otherwise."

"Yeah. The boss messing around with one of his people would set a bad precedent," Greg said with a rueful smile. "Have you ...? Have there been times when you wished you could break that rule?"

"Not until now," Nick admitted, wondering what the hell he was doing. He's human, Goddammit. Interesting, attractive, sexy ... and human.

"You're not going to do anything about it, though, are you?" Greg said, getting to his feet. He hobbled for a step or two, then with a muttered "I'm fine," waved Nick away when he joined him and offered his arm.

"You didn't give me time to answer," Nick replied. "If we remain strictly businesslike when we're at work, and if you're willing to keep things casual and nothing more ..."

Greg grinned. "The dreaded friends with benefits?"

"Would that be so bad?"

After a moment's thought, Greg shook his head. "It's better than nothing."

"Then let's give it a shot, but not until we get home." Nick chuckled. "Which means you have to make it back down to your car, first." He offered his arm again.

Greg rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I'm quite capable of walking ... and I emphasize walking, down the hill on my own. Running, however ..."

"Got it," Nick said with a grin.

 Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GL2PM8Q

 B&N - https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-was-not-an-option-edward-kendrick/1129348758?ean=9781634866583