7. Justin
Justin
J ustin was out of sorts.
His nature was essentially positive, and although his optimistic instincts were still intact, they were engaged in pitched battles with his anxiety and confusion. The result was a confused daze he desperately hoped no one noticed.
He stood at the front desk on the fourth floor of the Manhattan Lyric, checking IDs and signing people in as they went about their day. Some folks went to a rehearsal for a current production. Some were part of the professional training program. Some were musicians preparing for future work.
Justin maintained a smile throughout, but his brain was running a mile a minute. He legitimately liked seeing everyone. As someone with absolutely no inherent musical talent, he loved music, and he loved musicians. He couldn’t carry a tune in a paper bag, so it was like magic to him.
And musicians were interesting people! They were always working on some new piece of music, or getting ready to travel to another country, or performing for some celebrity or another. He loved the stories.
Today, though, he couldn’t focus on any of that. Even as he checked people off the list, his mind was screaming at him. Screaming about Sebastian, about Maestro Zaslavsky, about somehow getting roped into meeting a whole bunch of witches in New Jersey, of all places.
It had only been four days since the awkward conversation where Sebastian had outed them all as supernaturals. Only four days since he somehow ended up as ambassador to the witches of Bayonne. But his mind hadn’t calmed at all.
Justin and Pavel had somehow avoided being alone together in that time, despite Sebastian’s best efforts.
The witch had tried to lure the two of them into various empty hallways and supply closets, but Pavel wouldn’t have it.
Justin appreciated the gargoyle’s certainty.
He had conveniently been on break when the two arrived each morning.
It’s not that he didn’t like them, he was confused by?—
“Justin?”
A voice jolted him out of his reverie. His boss, Yasmin, stood in front of him. She was particularly stylish today in a loose camel sweater and hoop earrings, and she was wearing a confident smile.
“Hey. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, no worries,” she said. “It’s boring as hell here in the late morning. Hard not to drift off.”
Justin couldn’t help but grin. Yasmin’s easy demeanor was so comforting. She reminded him a little of his Aunt Lavinia, although a bit less prickly.
“I don’t mind it! Gives me time to work on my spreadsheets. I love spreadsheets. ”
Yasmin chuckled. “God bless people like you.”
Justin shrugged. He did like spreadsheets; it was his favorite part of the job. He might be new to all this, but from day one, he’d spiffed up the documents with colors and clearer labeling.
“Do you need something?” Justin asked.
“Oh, yeah, I do, I forgot,” Yasmin gestured behind him. “Once that’s done printing, will you hole punch it and bring it over to room 413? Maestro Zaslavsky needs it in the next ten minutes, and I have to run to an absolutely unnecessary online meeting I’ve been told I absolutely cannot miss.”
Justin glanced over to see the printer spitting out page after page of sheet music. He’d been so engrossed in thought he hadn’t heard the old war horse grinding away. The twenty-year-old clunker of a printer was usually too loud to ignore.
“Sure, of course.” Then maybe it would be lunchtime. He needed to go for a walk and clear his head. “I’m going outside for lunch. Do you want me to grab you something?”
“Ooh, I’d love a chopped cheese from the deli at the corner.”
Justin scrunched up his face. He couldn’t help himself. “I guess. Although I don’t know how you can eat that stuff.”
“That’s because you’re not a native New Yorker! Chopped cheese is in my blood. Literally. The cholesterol is piling up.” Yasmin sighed. “I suppose I need some reason to drag my butt to the gym after work.”
“I think the trick is to find exercise you actually enjoy.” Justin reached his arms upward, enjoying the stretch after a few hours standing in one place. “I’m not very athletic, but I love volleyball.”
“Says a man with a twenty-five-year-old’ s metabolism. You could think about a push-up and lose five pounds.” Yasmin spun around to head back to her office. “Send me thoughts and prayers I don’t reach through the computer screen and strangle anyone!”
As she left, the whirring of the printer died down, spitting out the last of the pages. Justin grabbed them and popped them into the enormous industrial three-hole punch at his desk, then headed down the hallway toward the rehearsal rooms.
Justin heard the din long before he got there, an ominous piano and a booming, almost terrifying bass voice ringing out, cutting through a wall of choral sound. He slowed as he reached the door, peeking in through the glass window.
There was a row of singers in a semicircle, their eyes glued to Maestro Zaslavsky, who was vigorously waving his baton. He wore a suit, even though everyone else was in jeans and t-shirts, and his biceps bulged against the fabric as he set the beat decisively.
Pavel’s—he’d introduced himself as Pavel, Justin could call him that—muscles were lovely, but Justin’s attention wasn’t on his physicality, as masculine and commanding as it was, but on the intensity in his eyes.
His expression was a mix of ferocity and joy Justin had never seen before.
This wasn’t the standoffish man he’d met a few days ago. This was a force of nature.
He took Justin’s breath away.
Justin’s eyes were locked on Pavel, so focused he didn’t see it coming: the huge, thundering bass he’d heard from down the hall.
It was the loudest noise Justin had ever encountered, and for a moment, he puzzled at where it was coming from.
Then he followed the eyes of the choristers, and shifting his body, he got a view of the source of the sound.
Sebastian.
The cognitive dissonance was powerful. Sebastian was tall, true, but he had a slender frame, his muscles long and ropy, and his pale face was long and oval rather than square. Everything about his physical presence was at odds with the rolling billows of sound pouring from his mouth.
Tosca, mi fai dimenticare Iddio!
The high climax lit a malevolent fire in Sebastian’s eyes. Justin didn’t know what the aria was about, but even as the choir continued through the end, Sebastian joining in whatever Latin prayer they were singing, the man hungered like a devil from hell.
What an incredible actor. Justin hoped. He didn’t know Sebastian that well, and it would be scary if this was an everyday part of his personality. The performance was honestly terrifying.
As the whole thing came to an end, Pavel kept his arms up, holding the room in silence for a long moment. That moment was an eternity for Justin.
He was lost in a maelstrom of warring thoughts.
How attractive Pavel was. How he wanted the older man to guide him, hold him down, protect him.
How attractive Sebastian was. His malevolent power was off-putting, but it was also maybe the hottest thing Justin had ever seen.
He wanted the two men to take him, keep him, use him.
What was wrong with him? Lusting over people he worked with wasn’t smart. He shouldn’t be lusting over anyone. His crushes had only ever gotten him into trouble, and this would be a thousand times worse. There were two of them. He had to keep it under control .
The maestro lowered his hands and nodded.
“Good. Plenty to work on there.” Pavel turned his head and locked eyes with Justin through the glass window in the studio door. He stepped back, thrown by the sudden attention. “I believe the replacement pages for the new piece are here. Justin?”
Pavel beckoned him in, and Justin froze for a minute before his brain finally came online. He shook his head to clear the lingering fog away and entered the room.
Making a beeline for the maestro and the piano, his footsteps were soft against the black Marley floor of the rehearsal room. Around him, the members of the choir were relaxing, going back to their seats to grab a sip of water, or making notes in their music with a pencil.
“I, uh, have your pages…” Justin said as he plopped the pile of sheet music down on the top of the upright piano.
“Thanks.” Pavel’s voice was low, and the sound sent a shiver of desire down Justin’s spine.
“Oh, it was no problem, really, I’m always happy to help, absolutely, that’s why I’m here, that’s what they pay me for, you know?—”
“Hi, Justin.”
Shit. On the one hand, Justin was thankful someone had interrupted his embarrassing rambling, but on the other hand, that someone was Sebastian, who had sidled up to him at the black upright piano.
Justin’s eyes flicked between Pavel and Sebastian, and he couldn’t control the terror springing up in his chest.
“Uh…hi, Sebastian.”
Pavel put up his finger and turned to the rest of the class.
“Alright, everyone, that’s it for the morning session.
I know I’d promised to announce your roles in the upcoming production of Don Giovanni , but there have been some last-minute travel issues with a couple of the international singers, and it will take us a few more days to finalize.
Sorry about the delay. Take lunch and pick up your new music before you go. Be back at one.”
Justin stumbled back as the nearest singer aggressively grabbed several of the copies he’d brought in.
“I gotta get back to the desk.”
It was an effort for Justin to stick to human speed as he walked, he was so desperate to get away from the two men he found so intensely appealing. He could do this. He just needed to keep his distance.
When he reached the front desk, Justin stared at his piles of work, at a loss as to what he should do next. After a minute or two, he gave up. He needed air.
He arrived at the elevator as the doors opened, slipping through and leaning against the wall near the electronic panel. He hit the first floor and pressed the door close button, although it was silly. This elevator system never went any faster than it wanted to.
A second later, Sebastian stepped in. Dammit. He didn’t want to deal with this right now. Not only was he trying to navigate his attraction to the man, but they were tied together in this ridiculous plan to go to the witch’s Circle in Bayonne.
No. The plan wasn’t ridiculous. It was ridiculous Justin was going. He still hadn’t heard when the meeting would be, which was driving him crazy, like he was a prisoner waiting for the axe to drop.
“Hey, Justin.” Sebastian slid over and leaned against the bar sticking out from the wall. “Where ya headed?”
The elevator doors began to close. Finally .
“I—”
Before the doors could fully shut, a figure stepped through. In a suit. Pavel.
Good God, could this get any worse?
The conductor glanced at them and then stepped to the opposite side as the doors closed behind him. That was good. At least he didn’t want to talk.
But Sebastian clearly did.
“Ooh, this is fun!” The malevolence of Sebastian’s character from earlier was gone, replaced by an excitement that might have been worse. “We should all grab lunch together.”
The universe was trying to torture him. That was the only explanation for this. The elevator began its slow descent as Sebastian stared at him, waiting for a response. Pavel was leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed, so Justin doubted the maestro would save him.
“I, uh, Yasmin asked me to grab her a chopped cheese from the deli, so I don’t think I can?—”
“There’s this great taco place around the corner,” Sebastian said. “They’re fast. There’ll be plenty of time to swing by the deli.”
Why was this man so determined? The witch had introduced himself at Justin’s new job, exposed the fact he was a vampire to Pavel, and then turned up again at the covenhouse, roping Justin into some kind of weird diplomatic mission he barely understood.
Whenever Sebastian turned up, Justin was thrown off balance.
“I don’t know…”
“ I will not be getting lunch.”
Pavel’s voice was rough and jagged, like stones rattling together in a jar. It was so fucking sexy .
No. He needed to let his crushes go. He had to work with both men.
“Oh, come on, Maestro,” Sebastian said, caressing Pavel’s arm with a light, flirty touch. “You can’t spare half an hour?”
“No, I?—”
There was a rough jolt and a clank as the elevator came to a sudden stop. Justin grabbed at the bar on the wall, steadying himself. After a moment, there was a loud pop, and the lights flickered out, dying along with the illuminated red buttons.
A dim emergency light above them snapped on, barely bright enough for them to make out each other’s faces.
Justin didn’t know what his own expression was, but Pavel looked like he’d swallowed a live goldfish at the prospect of being stuck in an elevator together.
Sebastian, on the other hand, had turned as white as a ghost, his normally unflappable demeanor totally gone.
That couldn’t be a good sign.