22. Trent
Chapter 22
Trent
T rent plunked out the run on the piano one more time. This wasn’t going well.
The building was quiet. The practice rooms were entirely empty other than him and the lone violin down the hall. Honestly, the violin was doing better than he was. He’d been stuck on one phrase for twenty minutes.
His voice was a little large to be singing Handel, but he loved the music, and it showed a good contrast to the heavier Verdi and Puccini that made up most of his repertoire. Anthony had encouraged him to push his ornamentation further, but the heft of his big tenor voice struggled to execute what they’d decided on.
It was lonely work, but ordinarily Trent didn’t mind that. Most of the real effort of being a musician happened alone. At this level, singing was an elite sport, requiring a high degree of focus and muscle coordination.
He started the phrase again.
As he reached the apex, his voice finally locking into the melody, he felt a sudden squeeze and pull in his chest. It was surprising and somewhat painful. He gripped the cover of the grand piano to steady himself.
At first, he worried he might be having a heart attack, but after a moment, the pain dulled. He checked in with himself. No sweating, no dizziness, no nausea. He was fine. There was just an invisible force yanking at his chest.
Something was wrong with Oscar. They hadn’t completed the mating bond, but they’d been intimate. That could be enough to connect them. As the waves of uneasy discomfort surged through his body, he was sure that Oscar was in trouble.
The pull wasn’t urgent. Oscar wasn’t dying. But he was definitely in danger. Unfortunately, Trent had no idea where he was. Elliott’s covenhouse was in Canarsie, supposedly, but he didn’t have an address. Besides, the tugging wasn’t coming from deeper in Brooklyn. It was from Manhattan.
He didn’t have many options. If he spent the night wandering the city, blindly following the nascent mate bond into dark alleys, that wouldn’t help Oscar at all. Instead, he had to go where someone might know where Oscar was. The Grosvenor covenhouse.
He stuffed his binder back into his backpack and hurried out into the hallway, slamming the door to the practice room behind him. He was practically running, typing the address into his phone at the same time. He ignored the judgmental looks of the other music students as he burst out onto the street.
Trent grumbled to himself as he jumped into the rideshare. It was a chunk of change to take a car from downtown Brooklyn to the Upper West Side, but he had to do something. Oscar needed help.
The tiny Chrysler Neon that had picked Trent up was falling apart. He was like a sardine in a tin can rattling around a grocery bag. The driver was an elderly man with thick glasses, and it took every ounce of control Trent had not to yell at him to go faster.
When he arrived at the covenhouse, everything was quiet. The large apartment complex was intimidating in its silence. As he reached the front door, a young woman materialized out of the shadows. With long, lustrous hair and light brown skin, she was very pretty, and her face gave off a don’t-fuck-with-me energy that Trent found appealing.
“What’s your business, human?”
Trent rolled his eyes. She had probably been human less than a decade ago. Some folks just really leaned into the whole “creature of the night” persona.
“I need to see Freddie.”
“The master is out.” She didn’t move from her post in front of the door.
“Anthony then. Tell him Trent is here.”
Trent saw her eyes flick off to the upper right corner of her field of vision. She was conversing mind-to-mind. After a moment, she sighed.
“Come on.”
The vampire led Trent to the common area of the covenhouse, back where he initially met Freddie. That was the day that Oscar was first attacked, and that Trent had discovered that his voice teacher was one of the undead.
The place was bathed in diffuse light, a few antique lamps casting an amber glow over the room. Anthony sat in a large upholstered chair, reading a thick leather-bound tome.
“Trent. What are you?—”
“Where are Freddie and Oscar?”
Anthony’s brows furrowed. “They went on an errand.”
“I know that they were breaking into the Canarsie covenhouse tonight.” Trent puffed his chest up, trying to convey confidence, but his tapping foot betrayed his worry. “Something is wrong. I can tell.”
Anthony frowned, holding up a finger indicating that Trent should wait, and closed his eyes. Trent leaned against a sturdy bookshelf, his arms crossed. The air of the covenhouse was cold against his skin. Figured. Vampires didn’t exactly need central heating.
Anthony’s eyes popped open. “Something went wrong. Freddie’s on his way back. He said he’ll explain when he gets here. Twenty minutes.”
The ache in Trent’s chest was not soothed by Anthony’s words. The bond tugged even harder on him. So far, he’d completely failed at locating his mate, and the frustration was compounding his worry.
“Let me talk to Justin.”
“What?” Anthony stood. “I can’t?—”
“Anthony. Let me talk to Justin.”
Anthony stared at Trent for a long moment, then nodded. He led Trent wordlessly through the halls of the covenhouse. Although the place had a boring, industrial design in its bones, it was teeming with art. Trent appreciated the color and texture, even if it was a bit cluttered.
They arrived at the last apartment on the left. Unlike some of the others, it didn’t sport any decoration. Anthony knocked, and the door opened.
Justin did not look good. His blonde hair was disheveled, and his once-smooth face was lined with worry. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Strangely, he wasn’t wearing his signature pajama pants, dressed instead in a pair of baggy cargos and a sleeveless t-shirt. His eyes widened as he saw Trent, and he took a step back.
Trent stretched out his arms, palms out, in a calming gesture.
“It’s okay. I want to talk.”
Justin’s eyes darted to Anthony, who gave a slight nod. Justin sighed and stepped out of the way to let Trent enter, chewing at his bottom lip.
Not too far from the entrance to the apartment was a pristine kitchen with a small black table and four chairs. Trent sat at one without prompting. Justin took the seat across from him, trepidation written on his face.
Trent understood why Justin was anxious. After all, Trent had almost died because of the vampire’s betrayal. But Trent knew the reasons behind it, and he couldn’t say that he wouldn’t do the same thing in that position. He was inclined to give Justin a chance to redeem himself.
“Why…why are you here?” Justin squeezed out the question in a ragged whisper.
“Oscar is in some kind of danger. I don’t know what.” Trent’s eyes welled up, but he blinked the possibility of tears away. It wasn’t the time.
“Oh…” Justin rubbed at his face. “I never…I never intended for him to get hurt.”
“No. Only me.” Trent didn’t put any malice into the words. It was a statement of fact.
“I…” Instead of finishing the sentence, Justin just nodded. An expression of absolute defeat came over his face.
“And once I was dead, what then?” Trent kept his voice even.
“What?”
“What was supposed to happen next?”
“My Aunt Lavinia would be released.” Justin swallowed. “And Oscar would go with Elliott. Elliott said that Oscar was his mate, so I thought they’d be happy, even if he didn’t want it at first. It’s not like…”
Trent cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s not like Oscar ever really looked at me that way, anyway. Romantically. It was better that he be with Elliott. Somewhere not near me.”
Trent sat in his stillness, waiting for more. He didn’t hate the young vampire. He’d grown up around worse. But if Justin didn’t understand the gravity of what he’d done, he couldn’t be trusted going forward.
“I…I’m sorry, Trent. I didn’t want you to die,” Justin continued, wringing his hands as he spoke. “I really didn’t. But my aunt…she’s the only family I have. The only real family, anyway. I can’t let them kill her.”
“No.” Trent’s gaze locked onto Justin’s eyes. He projected as much confident determination as he could manage. “You shouldn’t. And we’ll get her out. But you can’t sacrifice other people for that to happen. And you can’t trade on Oscar’s future. He may not love you, but he is your friend, and you are his. His best friend, I think.”
A strangled sound burst from Justin as the dam broke, and tears ran down his face.
“I’m so sorry. I did what I thought I had to do, and I was wrong. I was so wrong. I don’t know how I can make it up to him, or to you.”
Trent smiled. “You can help me save him.”
It hadn’t been hard to slip out without Anthony seeing them. The apartment complex that housed the Grosvenor covenhouse was large, and several different stairwells led down to the entrance. Trent felt a little guilty at circumventing Anthony’s wishes, but it was better this way. He needed to take action.
The full moon shone down as Trent and Justin stood on the docks, staring out at the sparkling bay. The marina was filled with boats, from yachts to catamarans to dinghies. The smell of salt from the brackish water was a sharp complement to the residual gasoline odor that clung to the vessels moored there.
“You’re sure the bond is leading you into the river?” Justin asked.
Trent nodded. “They’re definitely out there.”
Justin sighed, then glanced around at the surrounding boats.
“Come on,” he said, running down the dock and jumping onto a small blue dinghy with an outboard motor. The thing barely rocked with the addition of Justin’s slight frame.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll hot-wire this motor. Then we’re getting your mate and my aunt.” Justin sat by the sleek-looking machine, the moonlight catching on its shiny yellow stripes.
Trent followed after him, hopping onboard and steadied himself as everything moved back and forth. He did not have Justin’s vampiric grace. “You know how to do that?”
“I had an unconventional upbringing,” Justin said as he pried open the casing and twisted a red wire and a purple wire together. “I learned some things.”
“Like hot-wiring a boat motor ?”
“Yep.” Justin picked up a yellow wire, rolling it between his fingers. “Ready?”
“Sure.”
As Justin touched the yellow wire to the other two, the motor sputtered to life. “I hope it has enough gas to get us there.”
Justin guided the dinghy backward into the marina, careful not to scratch the other vessels. Trent shivered as a cool breeze blew in off the river. The few gentle waves that reached the marina still made the vessel rock back and forth.
“We’re going to go out on the Hudson in this toy boat? Won’t we get swallowed up by the wake of some transport ship or something?”
“Well, I don’t know how to hotwire a yacht, so we’re stuck with this.” Justin smiled, his fangs glinting, and he popped the motor into forward gear, giving it some juice. “Worry less about the boat and more about how a human and a vampire who doesn’t really fight will take on a bunch of burly bloodsuckers.”
The wind picked up as they shot out of the marina onto the choppy waters of the Hudson River. Trent’s blonde hair tossed in the breeze. He brushed it out of his eyes.
“I’m prepared this time.” Trent smirked. Justin had no idea. “They won’t catch me off guard.”
Justin raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Once they were out on the water, the pull on the mate bond intensified. Trent pointed toward the Statue of Liberty.
“They’re out there, somewhere near the statue.”
Justin sighed. “Of course they are. The most obvious place on the whole damn waterway.”
As they got closer, it became clear which ship was theirs. It was floating stationary about three hundred yards from Lady Liberty. A deep orange-red, the words “Anytime Water Tours” were emblazoned in bright white letters on the side.
The strong smell of seaweed hit Trent’s nose. The salty, rotting odor made him gag. He quickly recovered, but Justin shot him a look.
“You okay?”
“I don’t love being on the water.”
Justin slowed the boat down to a crawl. As they approached, two vampires peered out from the tour boat, one at the front and one at the back. Both wore plain black clothing.
“It’s like a goddamned uniform,” Trent whispered.
“What?”
“Never mind. Pull us around to the front.” Trent tucked his body down against the hull of the dinghy. “We’ll deal with him first.”
As they got closer, it became obvious that “him” was a huge man with a short military haircut. He must have been a power lifter before he was turned. He was built like a barrel. He noticed their arrival, but not in time.
“What are you?—”
With barely a whoosh, the vampire’s throat sprouted the silver handle of a throwing knife. He hissed, clawing at it, but after a few seconds, he collapsed down onto the deck.
“What did you do?” Justin asked. “He shouldn’t have gone down like that!”
Trent flexed the fingers on his right hand and smiled. He loved hitting a target dead on. “Strange thing about vamps. They’re immune to most diseases, and you can’t kill them outside of fire or decapitation. But they’re particularly susceptible to a paralytic.”
Trent’s eyes went to a narrow white ladder welded to the side of the boat. “Let’s go.”
Justin guided them closer, keeping the motor on its lowest and quietest setting. Once they reached the ladder, Justin lined up the side of the dinghy to the side of the red tour vessel.
“You go first,” Justin said.
Without saying a word, Trent pulled himself up, quickly scurrying up the ladder. He threw his leg over and eased himself onto the boat. Trent made his way over to the paralyzed vamp, who was flat on his back. His eyes stared up at the full moon as if hypnotized. Trent slid out a machete from the holster concealed beneath his shirt. With one swift motion, he severed the vamp’s head from his body, grabbing it by the hair and tossing it into the bay.
Justin’s mouth hung open in shock.
“What?” Trent asked. “I wasn’t going to leave behind an enemy vampire to attack us later.”
Justin’s mouth twitched. “You were just more casual than I expected.”
The two of them padded toward the front of the boat, keeping to the shadowed side of the deck. A woman stood there, her arms crossed, a deeply unpleasant mix of boredom and arrogance on her face.
“This one’s mine,” Justin whispered.
“I thought you weren’t a fighter.”
“This isn’t fighting. It’s assassination. I’m better at that.” Justin turned to Trent, wearing a grim frown. “She’s the one that delivered the message about my aunt being captured. She was too fucking happy about it.”
“Well, do it quick. If others hear, this will get much more complicated.”
Justin nodded and slid out a knife of his own from one of his tall leather boots. He whistled. The vampire turned her head, giving him a clear view of her neck.
Faster than Trent could even see, the knife was out of Justin’s hand and flying, slicing through the moon-drenched night. Before she could make a sound, the woman’s head toppled from her body.
“Fuck, Justin. I thought you were an innocent kid.”
“No,” the twink vamp said, moving toward the now headless corpse. “I’m just not strong enough to fight head-to-head. I’ve learned other ways of surviving.”
He picked up her head by the hair and looked around. “Dammit. My knife went into the water.” He tossed the vampire’s head after it. “Come on.”
Behind the captain’s station was a large iron door, painted white. It was the only way off the deck that Trent could see. He turned the handle and tugged. It didn’t budge. He glanced at Justin.
“I may not be as strong as a typical vamp, but I am stronger than a human.” Justin reached out and pulled. The door swung open with a loud shriek. Both of them froze at the sound, waiting for more vampires to come running. No one came.
“It wasn’t locked,” Justin said. “It was just heavy.”
After they were a few steps into the cabin, the murmur of conversation drifted up to them from beneath deck. Trent put his finger to his lips, and Justin nodded. Slowly, so slowly, they made their way down the metal stairs, being careful not to make any noise. As they descended, the talking got louder.
“You’ll never be my mate.” Trent’s heart rate quickened as Oscar’s defiant voice reached his ears. He glanced at Justin, who nodded. They approached a corner in the hallway, but before they got there, Justin grabbed Trent’s arm, pulling Trent’s ear close to his mouth.
“There’s a vamp guarding the door,” Justin whispered. “I can hear them breathing.”
Trent peeked around the corner. On the floor sat a vampire who had probably been about thirty when he was turned. His head was down and his thumbs were twitching away furiously. His long, unkempt brown hair covered his face.
“Is he playing a game?” Trent whispered.
Justin hummed in the affirmative. “More of that paralytic would be nice.”
“That and some decent conditioner.” Trent shook his head. “But it’s hard to get. I only had the one dose.”
“Maybe everyone in the room beyond is engrossed enough that they won’t hear us take him out.”
Trent reached into his pocket, pulling out a shiny silver marble. His eyes stayed trained on the vampire, who hadn’t looked up for even a second. Trent didn’t know if he was winning his game, but he was definitely losing at being a decent guard.
With a flick of his wrist, Trent tossed the marble past the guard to the other end of the hallway. A sharp pinging sounded as it hit the metal wall. The gamer vamp’s head snapped up. He squinted and peered down the hallway to his right.
There was no one there.
He stood and lumbered toward the noise. Trent snuck up behind him with a few soft steps and clamped his hand down on the vampire’s mouth. He flinched as he felt the vamp’s fangs pierce the flesh of his palm, but he didn’t let go. He spun the vampire around, trusting that Justin could take care of the rest.
With one swift motion, Justin drove a wooden stake through the vampire’s heart. Trent released him and he fell to the floor with a meaty thud.
“We make a good team,” Justin said with a smirk.
“I thought vampires didn’t like carrying stakes around. Too much of a reminder of death, or something.”
“I don’t really care,” Justin said, slipping the stake back into his pants pocket. “Maybe you shouldn’t carry around a weapon that someone could take and kill you with, but you know what? Sometimes you just need to murder a vamp.”
From within the room, the murmur of conversation continued. Trent put his ear against the door to hear better. Oscar’s voice came through loud and clear.
“I don’t know what you think will happen.” Oscar’s voice was strident in rebuffing his sleazy ex. “I’m not going to love you. I’m not going to be your mate. I’ve found mine.”
“You are one crazy little asshole,” Elliot said. “But it doesn’t really matter. Once your so-called mate is dead, you’ll have no choice but to succumb to your fate.”
“That is never going to happen.” The defiance in Oscar’s voice stirred Trent’s soul. And it was also really, really sexy. “Besides, once Trent is dead, I’ll die. You know how this works.”
“You’re talking about him as if he was actually your mate, but I understand what delusion is. After all, I knew his mother.”
At those words, all the wind was knocked out of Trent. That fucking asshole. Of course. That’s why he looked so familiar. He’d been one of the bullies. Not one of the worst ones, Trent would have remembered that. But he knew that voice. A voice that had taunted him when he was locked in a closet or lying on the ground after a beating. As a young vamp, Elliot hadn’t ever been brave enough to do the actual deed. He was worse, a sadist who got off on the suffering in the aftermath.
A loud slam echoed through the door. “Don’t you dare,” Oscar said.
“Don’t I dare what?” Elliot replied. “I was there. I saw her as she became more and more unhinged. I don’t know why you would want to be mated to the son of those two idiots. I don’t know why you would want to be with someone who hates vampires. Which is understandable, I suppose. We were assholes to him. We would have been nicer if he wasn’t such a stubborn prick.”
“Fuck you. Don’t talk about my mate.” Two quick slams. Scuffling. They were fighting.
Trent stepped back from the door and motioned to Justin. Oscar must have gone for Elliot. But Elliot was a beast. Oscar wouldn’t have much of a chance without help. Justin kicked, and the door flew off its hinges.
Trent rushed into the room. He was greeted by the sight of Oscar and Elliot locked together. Elliot was gaining ground, pushing Oscar back toward the wall inch by inch while Oscar strained against him.
Seeing his mate in danger, Trent didn’t care about his own life. He jumped onto Elliot’s back, sinking a knife between his shoulder blades, hoping to inflict enough pain to give Oscar a fighting chance. Elliot tossed Oscar to the side. There was a fleshy thump as Oscar hit the inside wall of the boat and collapsed down to the floor. Before Trent could move, Elliott was on him, hoisting him up by his throat.
“Ah, and here’s the man himself. I’m so glad that I finally get to do this. You were a little brat when you were a kid, and you’re even worse now.”
Elliot raised his hand, and five sharp claws sprang from it. He pulled his arm back, and Trent braced for the incoming, piercing blow to his heart. But as Elliot moved to land the hit, Oscar was on Elliott’s back, his claws digging in anywhere they could find purchase.
All three of them went toppling over, hitting the floor with the sound of bones cracking. Trent hoped that none of those were his. He wouldn’t heal nearly as fast as anyone else in this room. His whole side throbbed with pain where he’d slammed against the hard deck.
Oscar was clawing at Elliot’s eyes now. He ripped them out with wild abandon, both the one he’d injured in Maine, now mostly healed, and the pristine, untouched one. Elliott bellowed in pain at the loss, grabbing blindly at the vampire behind him. Trent took the opportunity to scramble away, pushing himself across the floor to the opposite wall.
Elliott went crazy. He transformed into a whirlwind of arms and claws. Now completely blind, he lashed out everywhere around him, swinging wildly. Trent did his best to evade the man’s outburst, plastering himself against the wall, but Elliott managed to get in a few swipes on his chest and upper arm. They were shallow cuts, but they stung like hell.
Trent kept his mouth shut, hoping not to draw attention to his location in the room. Elliott did the opposite.
“You fuckers are all gonna die now,” he growled, “and the wolf, too. You could have come peacefully. You could have been the coven master’s mate, and you threw it away for a weak little human.”
Elliott slowed his momentum. He couldn’t fight without some idea of where his enemies were. He slowly turned around in a circle.
“No one is dying here but you.” Oscar stepped forward and stood tall in front of the beast.
“There you are. You could have been my mate. Not anymore. Time to die, freak.” Elliott roared and lunged for him, stumbling but pushing through to inflict the damage he’d promised.
Oscar turned his head toward Justin, who was standing off to the side. Justin reached into his pocket and tossed Oscar his wooden stake.
“Trent is my mate! You are nothing!” Oscar shouted, goading Elliott to strike in his direction as he dodged. Elliott’s momentum propelled him forward, and he smashed his face against the porthole with a scream.
As he did, Oscar pressed the stake between two back ribs and pushed it into Elliott’s heart. Elliott screamed as he did. Every hour of torture, starvation, and manipulation at the hand of this monster had culminated in this moment of revenge. Trent witnessed the pure triumph in Oscar’s eyes as Elliott crumpled to the floor.
Trent was a little disappointed that he hadn’t landed the killing blow, but if someone else had to do it, he was glad it was his mate. He soaked up the agony of Elliott’s defeat. Trent stared into his bully’s eyes as the light went out of them. There was no consciousness left. A surge of relief rippled through his body.
“Trent,” Oscar shouted, crouching down to take Trent’s head in his hands. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”
“He’s here without permission.” Everyone’s head turned to the door. Freddie stood there, his flaming red hair just barely fitting under the top of the entryway. Anger and frustration flashed across his face. “He should have waited.”
Freddie glanced down at Oscar holding Trent in his arms and sighed. “But sometimes that’s what mates do.”
“I need you to be okay,” Oscar said, bending down and inspecting Trent for any sign of injury. He pushed aside the torn fabric of Trent’s shirt to reveal the cuts across his chest. “I can’t…I just need you to be okay.”
Tears welled in Oscar’s eyes, full of fear and relief and something else. “I…I love you,” Oscar said. “You’re my mate and I love you.”
Trent took in the raw emotion written on Oscar’s face. He reached out and squeezed Oscar’s hand. “Oscar, I’m fine. He barely scratched me.”
“You’re okay. You’re okay. Elliott’s dead and you’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
“Trent’s better than okay. He’s a fucking killer.” Justin giggled from next to Freddie.
“What are you doing here?” Oscar asked with a scowl. “Shouldn’t you be locked up somewhere?”
“Yes, shouldn’t you?” A deep woman’s voice came from the far corner of the room. Lavinia stood there, leaning, her arms crossed, somehow looking regal in her rumpled orange skirt suit.
Justin’s went white. “I just…I was trying to save you.”
“Do you think I need to be saved, little boy?”
Justin pressed his lips together and shook his head vigorously. Anger flashed across Oscar’s face. Trent had to diffuse this. He sat up and put a hand on Oscar’s thigh.
“He was scared, Oscar. He was worried about his aunt, and he made a bad decision. I have no reason to trust vampires, but I trust him. He’s your friend.”
Oscar didn’t say anything.
Trent squeezed his thigh affectionately. “At least talk to him.”
Oscar’s eyes softened. He looked over at Justin, who was draped in an aura of sadness, and then back to Trent.
“Okay.”
“Good,” Trent said. “Now kiss me.”
Trent tugged Oscar’s head closer to his and, even though they were surrounded by people, bestowed on Oscar the hottest, dirtiest kiss he could manage, tender and filthy, sweet and ravenous. When he broke off, the look on Oscar’s face was one of wonder and lust.
Trent smiled. “There’s more where that came from.”
“Let’s go home.”