The Baritone’s Rival (The Vampire Impresario #2)

9. Trent

Chapter 9

Trent

W hen Trent walked out the front door of his apartment complex, Oscar stood there with a rakish smile on his face, his long brown hair tossed by the breeze. The sun was peeking out from the roof of the building behind Trent, and its rays glinted in Oscar’s eyes, turning them a subtle orange-red.

Trent’s first instinct was to be annoyed. After all, it was Oscar’s ex that had sicced the scraggly vamps on the two of them. But in the light of the morning, it was hard to stay angry. His vampire classmate leaned against a beat up gray sedan, looking dashing in a pair of tight black jeans and a baggy sweater. More than dashing. Almost sexy, with his tall, sinewy frame and his long eyelashes.

What was wrong with him? He didn’t think of men this way. Hell, he didn’t think of anyone this way. He’d been too focused on his own career to even consider finding a girlfriend. The occasional date with his right hand was enough to satisfy the physical.

That must be it. He was just starved for physical attention. He’d ignored that part of himself. That’s the only explanation for this reaction. He wasn’t developing some latent interest in men out of nowhere.

And even if he was interested, it wouldn’t be in Oscar! The vampire was his competition. And annoying. He didn’t begrudge Oscar his talent, but that didn’t mean that they had to be close. Oscar was the other star male singer in Anthony’s studio, and Trent wasn’t going to let Oscar beat him.

“Good, uh, morning…” Oscar looked tentative, but maybe…maybe he was happy to see Trent? His characteristic smirk had turned strangely shy. Why was he being weird?

“Hi.” Trent walked down the steps to the waiting vehicle, heading right for the trunk. “Open it?” he asked, gesturing to the green gym bag hanging over his shoulder. He’d thrown a few essentials into it, hopefully enough to get him through the week. They better not be away longer than that. He would run out of underwear.

“Oh!” Oscar scurried over, unlocking the trunk and pulling the lid up. He took the bag from Trent and placed it gingerly atop a large rolling suitcase. He gestured to the front passenger seat as he slammed the back closed.

Trent nodded without saying anything and slid into his seat. A moment later, Oscar was turning the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered a bit as it came to life.

“Car sounds like it’s on its last legs,” Trent said, already picturing them breaking down on the side of the highway.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” a young-sounding voice called from the back seat. Trent turned his head to see Justin. His blonde hair was wild, as if he’d just gotten out of bed, and he was in pajama pants and a white t-shirt.

“It’s the coven’s,” Justin continued. “We take it whenever we have to go out of the city.”

“Which isn’t very often,” Oscar said. “No one will miss it.”

Oscar draped his arm across the back of Trent’s shoulders as he turned his head to reverse out of the parking spot. As Oscar’s cool skin came into contact with Trent’s neck, he shivered. It was like some kind of fundamental tremor, beyond his control.

He wasn’t usually so sensitive to temperature.

“Are you cold? I can put on the heat.” Oscar removed his arm, and Trent immediately missed the weight of it resting on him.

“No, no. I’m fine.”

Was he fine? He didn’t know why he was reacting this way to Oscar. Sure, he hadn’t spent much time with him before, and the time they had spent together had been fairly contentious, but this was completely new. He felt an urge to reach out, reestablish the connection.

Trent didn’t like having unexpected feelings, and he especially didn’t like having them about someone he was about to spend ten hours with in a confined space.

A quiet settled over them as the car turned onto a busier thoroughfare. Trent stole a glance at Oscar. His eyes were glued to the vehicles in front of them. New York traffic was bad under the best circumstances. They wouldn’t really get going until they reached the highway, which would take a while.

Ten hours. He could do this. Then they’d be in Maine, and he could spend his time practicing, prepping for his audition and ignoring whatever the hell these unwanted yearnings were.

“What made you decide to come to the city for school?”

“Huh?” Oscar’s harmless question broke Trent out of his ruminations.

“Why New York?” Oscar turned his head slightly toward Trent and raised an eyebrow. “There are a lot of good opera programs in the country.”

“Oh. Well, I wasn’t willing to live in Indiana, and Philly and Pittsburgh both felt so tiny next to New York. Besides, this is where so many of the big companies--”

“It’s the best city in the world!” Justin’s excited voice chimed in from the back seat. “Why would you live anywhere else? It’s the center of everything. That’s why I came here. I mean, sure, it didn’t go as well as it could have. I was hoping to be an actor or something, and instead I ended up a vampire in a shitty coven, but I managed to get out of that. And crappy things happen other places too, but at least when they happen here, I’m in New York City.”

Oscar’s face flashed with annoyance at Justin’s rambling, but Trent welcomed it. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to talk more. He was struggling to understand his feelings for Oscar.

It had all been easier a few days ago when he just hated him.

“So, mainly because of the business?” Oscar asked, ignoring Justin. “You didn’t always plan to live in New York?”

“No,” Trent replied. “I’m from Wisconsin. The biggest city near me growing up was Madison. That was about as big as I really wanted to get. But after…”

Trent shook his head, dismissing his old memories. He didn’t want to think about the past.

“After what?” Of course, Oscar would ask.

Trent sighed. “Well?—”

“I’m from Vermont,” Justin chimed in again, “which isn’t really like Wisconsin…”

“Not even a little,” Trent heard Oscar mutter under his breath.

“...but it’s pretty sparsely populated, too, and it was such a jolt of energy coming into the city for the first time. I loved it! I never want to go back to New England. I mean, Boston’s a big city, but it’s nothing like New York, it’s a totally different vibe, and?—”

“Yes.” Oscar’s voice was firm, clearly trying to get Justin to stop talking babbling. It didn’t work.

“Besides, if you’re going to stay in the Midwest, what, are you going to live in Chicago? Chicago’s got great food and all, but it doesn’t have the culture of New York, or the diversity, or the bagels and cream cheese, even as a vampire I can’t keep myself from the bagels, I just love an everything with veggie cream cheese?—”

“So. Trent.” Oscar was louder now. This time, Justin shut up. Trent chuckled inwardly at Oscar’s frustration with the excitable vamp.

“Mm?”

“Have you ever been to Maine?”

“Oh. No. Closest I’ve been is Boston, for an audition. My safety school was there.”

“Well, that’s not like Maine at all.” Justin was off to the races once more. “Where I grew up in Vermont is more like Maine, I think. I’ve been to Maine a few times. Although Maine has coastline so it has more lobstermen and seafood and stuff like that. But it also forests and lakes like Vermont. Although I think it’s flatter on the whole, growing up, my mom always wanted to go to Bar Harbor or York for vacations, she loved the ocean, and?—”

“Let’s not talk anymore.” Oscar gripped the wheel of the car tightly. He was doing a poor job of masking his frustration. Trent smiled at Oscar’s annoyance. For some reason, he liked it when they were both annoyed at someone together.

“Okay.” Justin’s tone was oblivious.

Oscar sighed as he turned onto 278, his foot pushing down on the accelerator as he finally had the freedom to go faster. Trent stared out the window, watching the buildings of Williamsburg fly by as they headed north. And there they were, out of Brooklyn.

“Will you turn on music?” Oscar asked, his voice almost a whisper, as if he was worried that any audible noise would get Justin started again.

“Sure,” Trent answered.

“My phone’s connected to the car stereo. Put on whatever you want.”

Trent reached down and picked up Oscar’s phone from the cup holder. The wallpaper was a picture of him with Freddie and Anthony posing in front of Bethesda Fountain in Central Park. The angel loomed over them, a strange celestial protector of the three demons standing in front of her.

It was like a photo from a family vacation. Oscar was at ease, comfortable and relaxed between the coven master and his mate.

“What’s the code?” Trent asked.

“Seven seven four nine.”

Trent opened up Oscar’s playlists, which were…eclectic. There was opera, of course, but also ‘80s rock, hip-hop, and a truly astonishing number of gay dance songs and drag queen bitch tracks.

Trent settled on an old Ella Fitzgerald jazz album. The singer’s warm, sweet tone always helped Trent relax.

He sighed, allowing himself to float away on her supple voice, losing track of time as the music washed over him, and before he knew it, they had left the city and were entering New Rochelle. From the back seat came the sound of gentle snoring. Justin had fallen asleep.

He must have looked confused, because Oscar answered the question before he asked it.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he said, keeping his voice low, “but Justin can nap at the drop of a hat. Vampires are supposed to need way less sleep, so I don’t know what his deal is. But I’ve never known a vamp to sleep as much as he does.”

Trent hummed in response. “Are you and he…?”

Why the hell had he asked that? He didn’t need to know more about Oscar’s personal life.

“Oh, no, absolutely not.”

Trent raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

“He’s not my type,” Oscar said. “When he came back to the covenhouse, he was quiet and skittish. I think he was more scarred by his time with Rick than he’s willing to share. He’s finally more relaxed now, more like his old self. But that self is very…perky.”

“Ah.”

They sat for a few more minutes in silence, letting the queen of jazz lull them into contentment. But even as they sat, Trent felt a pull to engage with Oscar. It annoyed the hell out of him. He’d cultivated an image of aloof ambition, and he didn’t want the illusion broken. But he couldn’t help himself.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

“What?” Oscar asked. “What do you mean?”

“We don’t know each other. Hell, every interaction we’ve ever had has been unpleasant. It can’t just be guilt at getting me involved. I said I could handle it on my own. But you weren’t willing to let it be.”

“I..it’s my fault you’re in danger.”

“It’s not your fault that your ex sent a bunch of asshole vampires to attack you, and it’s not your fault I decided to step in. I could have left it alone. You probably would have figured it out.” Oscar wouldn’t have figured it out, but Trent didn’t bring that up.

“Still…” Oscar scratched the back of his neck. Was he flustered?

“You could have holed up in the covenhouse,” Trent said. “You’re only doing this because I’m human and fragile and unwilling to sleep in a house full of unknown bloodsucking vampires. I’m the reason you have to get out before your ex sends more people after us. After me , because if they catch me, I’m more likely to end up dead. Why do you give a shit?”

Oscar shrugged. Trent couldn’t shake the feeling that Oscar was hiding something. But also, it wasn’t his business. None of this was, not really. He didn’t deal with vampires anymore. He’d left that behind in Wisconsin. Now he had his career.

“If I’m being honest,” Trent continued, “I did have a moment that day. A quick one. The thought flashed through my head that if something happened to you, I wouldn’t have to worry about competing with you for the Lyric program.”

The car swerved as Oscar lost grip of the wheel for a second, drifting a few feet out of the lane and then back again as he regained control. “Are you serious?”

“It was just a moment. No time at all. And then I jumped in to fight.” Trent slapped his hand against his thigh. “I know that you don’t care that much about your career?—”

“That’s not true!” Oscar’s voice cracked a little as his volume increased. He glanced back at Justin, still fast asleep, and lowered his voice to an intense whisper. “I care very much about my career. Opera is my life. Just because I’m a vampire?—”

“Not just that. You’re also a trust fund kid, and?—”

“What are you talking about?” Oscar gave Trent an incredulous look.

Trent was confused. “You’re not? You dress like you’re a fashion model but also somehow from Victorian times. You speak like you’re in a Jane Austen novel. You fuck everything that moves. You’re every rich kid I grew up with. You’re either from a wealthy family, or you are a much older vampire than I thought you were, and you were actually alive during the early 1800s.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“I…” Trent stopped speaking for a moment, taking in Oscar’s words. He really didn’t have any information beyond his assumptions. But he’d thought they were safe ones, considering Oscar’s whole persona. Maybe he was wrong.

“Trent, I…” Oscar shook his head, keeping his eyes forward on the road. Trent could sense he had hit a nerve.

“Sorry, I just assumed?—”

“I was a foster kid,” Oscar said. “I never knew my parents, don’t have any memory of them. I bounced around the system for a long time, a few months with one family, maybe a year at the most.”

“Oh.” Guilt spiked in Trent’s chest. He hadn’t tried to get to know Oscar. After all, Trent hadn’t wanted to be known himself. He preferred the distance, especially from handsome party monsters like Oscar.

Handsome? He needed to have a serious conversation with his brain and figure out what was going on up there.

“First off, having a decent vocabulary doesn’t mean I’m the reincarnation of Elizabeth Bennett. And the reason that I speak like I do, my elocution, as it were, and the reason that I dress like it’s ‘the 1800s,’ as you said, is because when I was fourteen a retired English professor became my foster parent. Alexander. He was older, in his early seventies, and gay. He was the only real role model I’d ever had. He made me feel comfortable in my skin for the first time in my life.”

“Wow,” Trent said softly. “He sounds amazing.”

“He was.” Oscar’s voice cracked just a little, and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. “He was kind beyond measure. He broke down my walls after a lifetime of…well, regardless, he was a gay of a certain age, from a certain era and class, and I loved how he spoke and dressed. It was a monumental departure from the hand-me-down hoodies and jeans that made up my apparel to that point.”

“So you…”

“I idolized him. Of course I started to talk like him, to dress as fastidiously as he did. Later, when I was turned, I just sort of leaned into it. It’s not such a strange thing for a vampire to wear a cravat and speak in complete sentences.”

Trent breathed out, the air running over his lips like a gentle breeze. He’d been pushed toward Oscar for the last year and a half. Everyone had assumed that they’d be fast friends. But he couldn’t imagine hanging out with the hard-partying dandy. Now he understood what an asshole he had been.

Trent didn’t say anything as they drove. After a moment, Oscar spoke again.

“I was only allowed six years with him. He didn’t throw me out when I reached adulthood, but he…he passed just after my twentieth birthday. A stroke. I wish…if he’d still been alive when I was turned, I could have made him a vampire. But it happened too late.”

Trent glanced at Oscar. A tear ran down his cheek, falling and staining the beige fabric seat below.

“I’m sorry. I…for everything.”

“You weren’t the cause of his death. But he is the reason that I sing. He loved opera. We would listen to the live broadcast on Saturday afternoons together. He’s the one that recognized that I had talent and put me in voice lessons. He was generous and kind to me.” Oscar reached up to his face, wiping away the remains of his tears. “Apologies. I didn’t know I’d be talking about this today.”

“I…thank you,” Trent said. “Thanks for telling me.”

The car shook as the terrain changed. They made their way over a bridge that spanned the distance across a wide, brown-gray river. Trent craned his neck, catching sight of a single woman in an orange life vest drifting downstream in a kayak. She wasn’t paddling, letting the current do all the work instead.

Trent wished he could do that, relax enough to let the current take him where it will. It wasn’t in his nature.

“What about you?”

Oscar’s voice pierced Trent’s bubble of introspection. “What about me?”

“You’re a damn enigma. You must hate rich people for a reason. And how do you know so much about vampires, just because of a couple of cousins? Also, are you gay?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Trent hadn’t expected that last one, and it had thrown him.

“Not the most important question right now, maybe, but everyone at school wants to know.”

“No!” Trent’s voice sounded tinny to him as he answered. “I’m not gay. I mean, I don’t think. I’ve never done anything with a guy. I know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything but, well, I don’t know, I’ve never thought about a man that way, at least not until, I mean, my whole life I’ve dated women, so I don’t think…”

Trent couldn’t get his tongue under control. If Oscar were anyone else, it would have been the perfect opportunity to unpack some of these new feelings. But since Oscar was the cause of them, that was off the table.

“Hey. No worries. Forget I said anything.” Oscar smirked, which made Trent’s stomach do a somersault. God, what was happening to him? And how could Oscar manage to be so annoying and sexy at the same time?

“Okay.”

“But you’ve clearly been trained to fight vamps. Do you hunt the creatures of the night?”

Trent sighed. “I wish. Nothing so exciting. I, uh, might have lied…”

“About what?” Oscar’s brow furrowed even as he kept his eyes on the road.

“My cousins weren’t vampires. My father was. Well, stepfather. A few years after my father died, my mother remarried a guy that ended up being, you know…”

Trent made cute little fangs with his fingers and hissed. Oscar’s eyes widened in surprise and he burst out laughing. Justin shifted in the back, but his breaths evened out again quickly. He was still in a deep sleep. Oscar stifled his laughter, but couldn’t prevent a few stray giggles from sneaking through.

“What?” Trent asked.

“That was funny. It’s just, I never thought of you as having a sense of humor. At least not around me.”

Trent looked out the window at the trees that lined the edges of I-95. The rows of maples flew past, creating a strobe effect, almost as if he was watching a flipbook. Oscar wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t exactly been warm to him. Or to a lot of people.

“I’ve been focused on my singing. I don’t really have time…”

“To not be an asshole?” Oscar asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I guess…”

“It’s fine. Let’s get back to the latest installment of ‘My Stepdad is a Vampire.’” Oscar grinned. “That would make a great gay porn.”

“Weird. Don’t say that.” Trent took a breath. He didn’t like to talk about that time in his life. He didn’t trust other people with knowledge about his past, but Oscar had already seen him kill a vampire.

“So yeah, my stepdad was a vamp,” Trent continued, “and when I was fifteen, we moved into the covenhouse in Madison, Wisconsin. It was…not good. I had to learn how to defend myself. There were some bullies among the younger vampires. I don’t think they would have killed me outright, but they sure didn’t care if I lived or died.”

Trent didn’t add that the move resulted in the end of his family, and of his mother’s sanity. Oscar didn’t need to know that.

“So you became the deadliest human since Van Helsing.”

“Was he a real person?” Trent asked.

“No. He was a figment of Bram Stoker’s imagination,” Oscar answered.

“Oh.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Trent worried that Oscar wanted to know more about his time at the Wisconsin covenhouse, but he didn’t push for it. After a few minutes of listening to the gentle rumble of the car running over the pockmarked pavement of the highway, Oscar spoke.

“So that’s why you despise the idea of vampire mates?”

“What?”

“Your stepdad and your mom were fated, and it fucked up your life.”

Trent squeezed his eyes closed. Oscar had already figured out more than Trent was comfortable with from the short explanation he had given.

“It didn’t just fuck up my life. It ruined theirs.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t believe in fate. At least, not in a fate that gives you love and then destroys your life.”

Silence overtook them once again. After a long moment, Trent felt Oscar’s hand rest on his thigh. His fingers were narrow and thin, and his touch cool and gentle. Trent froze, his muscles tensing, but after a few seconds, he relaxed into it.

Why did it have to feel so damn good? He didn’t want Oscar to move his hand away, but he also didn’t know what to do now.

He’d never thought about a man this way. He’d never thought about a vampire this way. Not only that, but he’d done his best to push vampires out of his life. He couldn’t go catching feelings for one. Especially not one that was the main obstacle standing between him and his perfect future career.

But he didn’t want it to stop.