Dancing With Death (Not Quite Dead #4)

Chapter One

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THE CONTRAST BETWEEN talking to Vale about vacation and finding a bloody man on their doorstep was stark. It took Cyril a minute to digest it all, then he reached to open his door.

Vale caught his arm. “Wait.”

“John’s bleeding,” Cyril pointed out as if Vale couldn’t see that for himself.

“It could be a trap.”

That gave Cyril pause. Why would someone use John to set up a trap? If this was a trap, they weren’t here for Cyril. They were here for Vale. Cyril didn’t have the kind of enemies who would do something like that. “What do we do?” he asked because Vale was the expert.

“Stay here.”

Cyril wanted to argue, but he would be of no help in a fight. His only ability lay in his necromancy, and that wasn’t something he could use in this situation. That meant that he had to watch his boyfriend leave the car and move toward John, and he couldn’t do anything to help.

John didn’t look great. He was still holding his arm against his chest as if it was broken and wincing every time he moved.

The blood on his face was scary. Had someone punched him?

Did he have more wounds that Cyril couldn’t see?

Cyril wanted to know what had happened, but at the same time, he didn’t.

It was clear that whatever it was wasn’t good, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be involved.

Whether or not he wanted to be, he suspected he would be.

John had come here for a reason. He probably wanted to talk to Vale, maybe ask him for help.

That meant Vale would get involved, which in turn meant that Cyril would, too.

He wasn’t letting his boyfriend deal with whatever this was on his own.

Vale disappeared from sight. Of course he didn’t go straight to John. If this was a trap, he wanted to poke around and find the people who’d set it. John really wasn’t in good shape, though, and Cyril hated having to wait and watch him suffer. He wanted to help.

Even though John had tried to kill his boyfriend.

Vale eventually reappeared between two parked cars and waved at Cyril to get out of the car. Cyril hurriedly did that, rushing toward John since Vale wasn’t. He was probably more focused on keeping the area safe for Cyril, but someone needed to help John. He was here because he needed them.

John was leaning against the wall by the door.

He looked like he was having a hard time staying upright, and Cyril wondered if they should take him to the hospital.

He already knew what John would say if he suggested it.

He wouldn’t want to go because he’d have to explain what had happened, and it wasn’t something he could do.

Considering his job and the kind of position he and Vale were in, it would be a better idea not to leave traces anywhere official, especially in a hospital.

“I’m not sure we can help him here,” Cyril murmured when Vale reached him.

“No hospitals,” Vale said in a terse voice.

“I know, but we might not have a choice.”

John shook his head. “I heard that, and I’m fine. I’m not here for help.”

Cyril paused and frowned. “What do you mean, you’re not here for help? You clearly need help.”

“I might, but it’s not why I’m here. I need to talk to Vale.”

“Whatever you have to say, it can wait. Let’s go inside. We’ll take care of you.”

“There’s no need for you to do that.”

“Do I look like I’m asking if you want to do it? If you don’t, I’ll just ask Vale to carry you.”

John turned to Vale. “Maybe I should say no just for that. I wouldn’t mind being carried by you.”

Vale flipped him off and moved to open the door. It was a sign of how much pain John was in that he didn’t continue teasing. He followed Vale inside, moving slowly and wincing every so often.

Whatever the reason he’d come here, he definitely needed medical help. Cyril wasn’t a nurse and was more used to dealing with dead people, but he could probably help at least a bit. He was sure they could call Artemis if they needed more.

He hoped they wouldn’t have to.

It took a bit of work, but they finally managed to get John inside and onto the couch. His body was stiff, and it was clear he was hiding more wounds under his jacket and clothes. Cyril wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he knew John wouldn’t accept any other help, so he’d have to improvise.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered.

John grinned at him. “Not in front of your boyfriend, Cyril.”

Cyril rolled his eyes and stared at John until he sighed and his shoulders slumped. Satisfied that John would obey, Cyril rushed to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. By the time he was back, John’s jacket and t-shirt were gone, exposing his chest.

Just like Cyril had thought, there were more wounds he hadn’t been able to see before.

It was horrifying. John’s chest was turning black and blue, which meant that whatever had happened to him wasn’t as recent as Cyril had thought.

Someone also seemed to have taken great pleasure in cutting up John’s chest and stomach.

Cyril stopped counting the parallel wounds when he reached fifteen.

Some of them were so deep that Cyril suspected they’d need stitches, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with that.

Now that John was half naked, Cyril could see that his arm wasn’t broken, or at least, he didn’t think it was.

The reason John had been holding it against his chest was that he had more long cuts on his forearm.

They came too close to John’s wrist for comfort.

Cyril decided to focus on those first and prayed that John wouldn’t need more than he could give.

He’d clearly lost blood, and that wasn’t something Cyril could help with.

“This wasn’t done today,” Vale said as Cyril went to work.

John shook his head. He was pale and sweating. Cyril wanted to tell Vale to grab a glass of water, but he knew his boyfriend would want to know what had happened first. He wouldn’t leave Cyril unprotected if there was a chance someone was coming after John.

“I escaped,” John said in a strained voice as Cyril continued poking at his wounds. “See? They hadn’t gotten started with the second arm yet, and my legs are fine.” He offered up both his arms for Cyril and Vale to look at.

Cyril wasn’t sure where John found the strength to joke about this, but he was glad that he was. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to deal if John was whining in pain. He was already having a hard time dealing with the wounds as it was.

“What happened to you?” he asked, never looking away from the cut he was cleaning.

“Someone grabbed me. I wasn’t on a job, so admittedly, I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been. I was just having lunch. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in an empty warehouse, tied to a chair.” He grimaced. “They had to untie me when they started in on the arm.”

“Who did this to you? Why?”

For some reason, John glanced at Vale. Vale didn’t seem to notice.

He was keeping an eye on Cyril, like always.

It was something he did a lot, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t, Cyril would disappear.

Considering everything, it was understandable.

It even felt good because Cyril knew that if anything happened to him, Vale would find him.

Hell, he’d know before it happened and would prevent it.

“They grabbed me because they were looking for someone,” John eventually said.

They were finally getting somewhere. “Who were they looking for? We should probably warn them.”

“It’s why I came here. They were looking for Vale.”

* * * *

VALE WASN’T SHOCKED to hear that. In his years as a professional assassin, he’d made a certain number of enemies. This wouldn’t be the first time someone came after him, although usually, they didn’t stop to torture one of his friends first.

Not that John was Vale’s friend. He wasn’t.

“Vale?” Cyril asked, his hands faltering for a moment before he continued cleaning the cuts on John’s arm. “Why? What do they want from him? Who were they?”

John glanced at Vale again. There was something in his expression that told Vale he wouldn’t like what was about to come out of his mouth. Vale wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

He had to. If these people were coming after him, they might attempt to get Cyril next, and it wasn’t something Vale could tolerate. In fact, he’d sooner go after these people and kill every single one of them than allow them to even look in Cyril’s direction.

“She mentioned an organization,” John said.

Vale understood the meaning of the words right away, but Cyril didn’t. He didn’t know what John was talking about.

“What organization?” he asked. “And who is she? Do you have more information? Can you give us more details?”

Vale opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He wanted to tell John that it was unnecessary to give more details because he knew. He wanted to tell Cyril to let it go because it wasn’t important. He couldn’t do either of those things.

He couldn’t keep this from Cyril, even though he desperately wanted to. He knew that telling him everything might mean losing him, and that wasn’t something Vale was ready for. He never would be.

It didn’t look like he’d have a choice.

The Organization was coming after him. They were lethal, and if he wasn’t careful, they could easily get the upper hand. They’d go for his weakness, which was Cyril, which meant that Cyril needed to know that someone might come after him.

He wasn’t going to be happy.

He wasn’t going to be happy about anything. It would be a miracle if he was even willing to talk to Vale once this was over. Vale wasn’t sure what he’d do if he wasn’t, but he supposed he was about to find out.

He looked at Cyril, who was still frowning as he wrapped up John’s wounds. He was worried about someone he considered a friend, even though John had tried to kill Vale. His heart was too soft, but it was one of the reasons Vale loved him so much.

“Vale, have you ever heard of this Organization?” Cyril asked.