Chapter 12 #2
“Humans die,” Marcus reminded him.
“What if they don’t have to?”
They’d been taught that their kind were born. They’d lived that truth, seen it with their own eyes. Gabriel turning Zayn had been a fluke. He hadn’t known what he was doing at the time; he just knew he had to try something to save the man he loved.
“Zayn was something other,” Marcus said. “I, for one, would never want to take the chance with someone I cared that deeply for, only to be wrong. We all agreed.”
“Yeah, I know.” Gabriel watched the sky darken further. “Do you ever wonder if we were truly the only ones who made it out?”
“I try not to. But if there are others, I hope they’ve been taking the proper precautions to remain unnoticed.”
Humans outnumbered their kind one to many. Nothing good would come from their discovery.
“Enough changing the subject. Feed, Muharib.”
Gabriel turned to his friend with a weighted grin. “Only if you agree to walk the dogs.”
Gabriel preferred to hunt at night, where he could stick to the shadows, making it easier to stalk his prey.
But Nicholas’s scent had become more enticing as his body readied itself for the change.
His blood now provoked Gabriel’s hunger, tempting him, luring him in.
Gabriel didn’t have time to wait for nightfall. As it stood, it was already too late.
He hid behind an eatery close to the pier, the smell of piss along the alleyway affecting his already foul mood. He didn’t need to breathe, but his sense of smell was just as much an integral part of his artillery as the guns he kept holstered at his side.
Someone from the kitchen staff would eventually step out back for a smoke or to haul the trash out after the lunch rush. The opportunity came as he began to lose patience.
He remained hidden in a recess along the brick wall, outside the arms of the afternoon mist. The fine veins below his eyes fluttered, and his stomach twisted painfully with hunger.
Gabriel swiped his tongue along the backs of his incisors, watching the stocky man approach the dumpster. He heaved the heavy garbage bag in, and Gabriel crept in from behind, closing a gloved hand over his mouth.
The man struggled, intensifying Gabriel’s thirst. Gabriel’s mouth watered, and he yanked him into the recess, a snake-like hiss escaping him as he sank his teeth into the man’s jugular.
Gabriel’s kind had the ability to make the vampiric experience as painful—or pleasurable—as possible for their victims. He released his venom into the man’s bloodstream, turning his muffled shouts into moans of pleasure.
The scent of his arousal was potent, overriding the stink wafting from every corner.
He never killed his food—not unless they were deserving of it—but he hadn’t gone this long without fresh blood in over a century.
Gabriel drank far beyond reason, unable to pry himself off.
The man’s aging heart grew sluggish with every passing beat, and if it wasn’t for the scent of his release, Gabriel might not have stopped at all.
Gabriel ripped himself away, panting. Blood ran down the column of the man’s neck, soaking into the white collar of his chef’s coat. Tony had been stitched into the name patch.
Gabriel sealed the puncture wounds before gently laying Tony on the soiled cobblestones, slipping a drop of his own blood past his lips.
It would counteract the severe blood loss.
The venom hadn’t been enough to keep him sedated for long.
He’d wake up feeling disoriented, embarrassed even, but he’d live.
Gabriel exited the alley, setting his sights on the dock up ahead, to the numerous men loading up a cargo ship. He was by no means full. There was room for seconds, thirds, and maybe even dessert.
Gabriel watched Nicholas’s match from near the stairwell, not wanting to distract him with his entrance.
The club’s gymnasium was rather large, lined with more than a dozen fencing strips, and twice as many members onlooking with envy and awe as Nicholas and Mateo’s match reached a fevered pitch.
Their weapons met almost politely as they alternated between parrying and lunging for the point. Nothing like the deafening roar of swords clashing on a battlefield.
Most of the crowd pressed along the walls, simply enjoying the heated exchange. Some inched closer to the two opponents, studying the mastery on display.
The match ended with Nicholas scoring the final hit to the target area, the scoreboard buzzing, announcing his victory. The room erupted in applause as both men removed their gloves and masks.
Nicholas wiped the sweat off his forehead, laughing without restraint at his friend’s sour expression. He even hugged him.
The show of affection grated on Gabriel’s jealousy, as did the exuberant joy he hadn’t caused. But beneath this inherent flaw lay fulfillment at seeing Nicholas happy, no matter the means.
This was a side of Nicholas he hadn’t yet seen. One filled with the simplicity of a friendship that lacked the complications of romantic love. Gabriel couldn’t get in the way of that, couldn’t do anything to discourage it, no matter how much he wanted to hoard Nicholas for himself.
As quickly as that reasonable thought came, he spied Mateo aiming a longing look at Nicholas’s back. Gabriel’s hackles rose.
Nicholas searched the crowd, their gazes locking the moment Gabriel stepped into view. A smile wider than the one he’d given Mateo spread across his face. Gabriel reveled in it, maneuvering through the cluster of people to get to him.
“Hey,” said Nicholas. Mateo came to attention, taking Gabriel in.
Gabriel wanted to mark his territory, wanted to lay a breath-stealing kiss on Nicholas in front of everyone.
But he wouldn’t play games with Nicholas’s condition to satisfy his own primal needs.
He pressed a kiss to his forehead instead, lingering there until the scent of Mateo’s envy breathed new life into his ancient lungs.
“You were amazing, unmatched. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Your poor opponent didn’t stand a chance.” Gabriel didn’t so much as acknowledge Mateo’s presence.
“Oh,” Nicholas said, as if he’d already forgotten about his friend. “This is Mateo. Mateo, this is Gabriel.”
“The grievy guy,” Mateo said, his scent contradicting his outward ease. “I’m the poor opponent.”
“Grievy guy?” Gabriel hitched a brow.
“It’s nothing.” Nicholas shot Mateo a scathing look. “Ignore him. He’s just a sore loser.”
Mateo was taller and broader than Nicholas, but neither attribute was noticeable when faced with Gabriel. Mateo was handsome in a rugged sort of way, like Hamza, but better maintained. Artfully so. If Nicholas was a rare, aged red, then Mateo was a hard, stiff drink. An expensive one.
“Consider him ignored.”
Both he and Mateo chuckled through their hard stares.
The ruckus continued around them, a sense of inspiration filling the space as members partnered up.
“Does Gabriel have a last name?” Mateo looked straight at him when he asked, so Gabriel answered.
“Valken.” Gabriel could almost see it downloading to Mateo’s memory bank.
“Sounds shady. Nicholas tells me you’re a coffee importer. Says you two have been spending all your time together. I hope the business isn’t suffering because of it.”
Gabriel dropped his gaze to Nicholas.
“Don’t worry. He didn’t tell me much. I had to drag those details from him.”
“I make my own hours.” He could tell by the look Mateo gave him that he’d be heading home to start his research on him. He’d find exactly what he was looking for.
“He also tells me you’re a great guy.” Mateo didn’t sound convinced. “I hope that’s true. I care about what happens to him.”
Nicholas shifted uncomfortably. This introduction was important to him. Gabriel wouldn’t ruin it with petty jealousy.
Mateo had been there for Nicholas when Gabriel couldn’t be, and even now, he was being a good friend. He owed the man a debt, and he wouldn’t repay it by being cruel. Who wouldn’t want Nicholas? What mattered was that their relationship was platonic. That Mateo had never crossed the line.
“Maybe we can make plans to all have dinner one day,” Gabriel said cordially.
“I look forward to it.” Mateo’s reply lacked hostility, but his clear suspicion more than made up for it.
He turned to Nicholas. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower and get going. I’ve got somewhere to be. You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
Mateo side-eyed Gabriel before jogging off.
Nicholas watched his friend disappear from view. “Sorry, he’s not normally like that. There hasn’t ever been anyone between us before. Well, other than God.”
Mateo doubted Gabriel’s intentions, and maybe it was easier for Gabriel to blame that on his closeted feelings for Nicholas. Easier than admitting Mateo had every right not to trust him.
Gabriel wrapped his arms around Nicholas, inhaling along his sweaty hairline. Five minutes in his presence, and already the blood he’d consumed down by the pier felt like a distant memory.
“I’ll make more of an effort next time. Tonight, I’d like to take you somewhere.”
Nicholas looked down at himself. “Do I have time for a quick shower?”
Gabriel glanced at the sign for the locker rooms. Mateo was in those showers, and likely other men too.
“You can shower at the house. We have time.”
Nicholas gave a knowing grin. “So where are you taking me?”
Gabriel relieved him of his mask and saber, leaning in to whisper, “It’s my turn to show you a different side of me.”