Chapter Seven
Malcolm was aware he garnered quite a lot of attention as he strode through the airport. There was no help for it, not unless he wanted to change out of his kilt and into jeans. He didn’t—and not merely because of some stubborn adherence to a tradition that wasn’t really his. No, it was to keep Brenin looking at him the way he did whenever Malcolm bared his legs. The boy liked the wild and overtly masculine appearance and that was plenty good enough for Malcolm.
He still had trouble believing it was true—couldn’t really believe it, either—that he’d dared kiss the boy back on the plane or that Brenin had allowed it, not to mention that they’d essentially made a date to bed each other once the trouble with Dracul had been settled.
Dear God, did I really promise to help the boy get over his brutalization and discover what it was meant to be like between two men?
On a purely academic level, it made sense. If someone didn’t show him the difference, Brenin would forever equate sex with hideous violence and degradation. He would be damaged for the rest of his life. That would be a crying shame, for sure, yet was Malcolm the right person for this serious task?
Brenin thought so and that was all that really mattered at the end of the day.
Malcolm had to believe the boy knew his own mind on this, as well. The way in which Brenin kept close to him—back at the castle, on the plane and here in the airport—certainly persuaded him that the human did. Actions spoke louder than words, or so the saying went. And it certainly seemed like it at the moment. Brenin walked so close that they were practically holding hands. In fact, Malcolm made an effort to do just that. When he clasped Brenin’s hand, the boy upped the ante by entwining their fingers.
Och. Well, maybe he was simply nervous in the biggish crowd of strangers. By his own admission, the boy wasn’t used to traveling. Aye. That was it, only looking for reassurance in a strange land. No sense in reading more into it than that. Besides, after having passed through customs, thanks to Darling’s magnificently forged documents, it was time to go out and find Val. According to a text Malcolm had received in response to his when they had landed, the guy was circling the pick-up area.
They’d traveled light, as they wouldn’t be staying long. At least Malcolm and Willem wouldn’t. Brenin had so little that it fit easily into one small duffel. In any event, there was nothing they couldn’t carry with them. No need for a dolly or the help of a skycap. All they had to do was step outside and wait for Val to arrive.
A big, black SUV approached. Malcolm knew it must be their ride even before it pulled up to the curb beside them. The passenger-side window slid down as Malcolm and the others stepped toward it. Val leaned over, his face showing the same sternness it always had. Brenin pressed closer to Malcolm’s side at the sight.
“Aren’t your knees cold, Highlander?” Val drawled.
Malcolm shot his shipmate a wry grin. “Och, mun, I’m not as delicate as you.” He laid his adopted accent on thick as porridge.
Val sneered. “If the cops would allow me to, I’d sit here and wait for a strong wind to lift your skirt. It’s been a while since I had a peek.”
“I’ll be sure to mention your prurient interest to that new husband of yours.”
Val shook his head. “Forget it. No flash of your junk is worth a tongue-lashing from my boy. It would only lead to my punishing him, and… On second thought, do your worst.”
Malcolm laughed as he was intended to before heading to the back to store his bag and Brenin’s. He heard Val greet Willem but concentrated on making sure Brenin was okay.
“I know how fierce he looks, but he’s no one for you to fear. Val would lay his life on the line for you.”
Brenin handed his bag over. “I’m not afraid because I’m with you. I know you won’t let anyone hurt me.”
The lad’s trust in him was humbling. He took the risk of pulling him in for a quick kiss, amazed and pleased when Brenin permitted it. Then he brought him to the door for the second seat and handed him up.
“This is Brenin,” he said as he climbed in beside him.
“Pleased to meet you,” Val said through the rearview mirror. “We appreciate your help.”
Brenin paused while buckling his seatbelt. “I appreciate yours.”
Once Willem had got into the passenger’s side, Val pulled out. During the ride to the club, he filled them in on exactly who was going to be there when they arrived. Malcolm wasn’t surprised to learn that two local police officers were part of the team. Like Fergus and Darling, there were always fighting men who had accepted and supported them. The women of the group were more of a rarity, but again, Malcolm had Cook and Doc McPhee and, to varying degrees, people in the village on his side. It was good to have allies. There were always things that they couldn’t do on their own. Dracul had employed the same strategy, although thankfully nearly all of them ended up on the losing side of matters and dead, to boot. If nothing else, Dracul never left loose ends.
They pulled into an alley then an underground garage. Never having been to Boston, Malcolm had no frame of reference for where they were. He had noticed Brenin peering through the window as they’d traveled through the city. He hoped the boy would enjoy his holiday here while they dealt with Dracul.
Val led them into an elevator and up a few floors until the doors opened to a lovely suite. Malcolm detected Alex’s scent immediately and it sent excitement and happiness coursing through him. It had been too long since he’d last seen his captain. He admired the man and how he’d kept them alive and together for so long. More, he liked him, especially because he could have easily gone down the path that Dracul had. Instead, he’d adhered to a code of honor that didn’t count on this world—except it had and did inside Alex’s own mind.
There were lots of voices coming from the living space. Brenin pressed closer to him and Malcolm took the opportunity to hug him to his side. A redheaded boy flashed toward them, too quick for a human. He squealed as he launched himself into Val’s arms. Wrapping his legs around the guy’s waist and his arms around his neck, he peppered him with kisses.
“I missed you!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mackie. I was gone for, like, two hours.” The admonishment notwithstanding, Val hugged him in place.
The boy pouted. “Harry and Demi went out only to shop and look how that turned out.”
“Oh, baby.” Val pressed his lips into the boy’s neck and murmured reassurances to him as he kept walking.
“He’s not quite human, is he?” Brenin asked quietly.
“No,” Malcolm confirmed.
The redhead’s face came up. “I’m Mackie Stelalux, Val’s husband. And you’re safe here, Brenin.”
“See there, laddie, making friends already.” With a quick pat on his hip, Malcolm let go of the boy in order to greet his captain and the others more appropriately.
Alex came forward. They clasped hands and thumped backs, a ritual that they’d picked up from humans and made their own.
“It’s been too long, Malcolm. You look well.” Alex’s gaze flicked down. “Aren’t your knees cold?”
Malcolm laughed before moving to embrace Emil in similar fashion. There was a round of introductions with the human boys—pretty and shy blonds of varying shades who clearly loved Alex and Emil. Lucien he knew, although he didn’t recognize the sad man who merely nodded at him from where he sat on the couch. The women were distant, assessing, capable-looking for sure, which he appreciated. The coppers were a contrast in coloring and demeanor. The fairer one barely looked up from his meal as he greeted them with a quick wave. The darker one appeared nearly as forlorn and hollowed out as Lucien. Malcolm wondered what the story was there and resolved to ask Alex if they had a moment alone.
Willem made his way around the room, then it was time for Brenin to be paraded about. The boy stood to one side of the living room entryway. His eyes were wide and his nerves obvious. Malcolm strode back to him and held out his hand. Brenin took it without hesitation. His show of trust was noticed. Malcolm could tell by the expression on everyone’s faces.
“This is Brenin, and I’ll be thanking you to remember that he’s been in the very depths of hell these last few months and is jetlagged in the bargain. He’ll need time and rest before he can answer any questions.”
“No, it’s all right, then,” Brenin contradicted him in a firm tone and a strong voice. “I want to help bring the fucker down. I’ll do whatever needs doing and now as soon as later.”
Malcolm smiled. “That’s my laddie. Can we at least start with a wee bit of scran?” he asked Emil.
“If you mean food, then yes, absolutely.” With a sweep of his arm, the chef indicated Alex’s kitchen counter. “I figured we’d do a buffet, although sheep’s offal and blood sausage are not on the menu,” he added with a wink.
“Och, well, we can’t have everything. I’m sure it will be tidy nevertheless.”
He guided Brenin to the food, even though the boy was perfectly capable of doing for himself. Now that the dam, so to speak, had broken, he didn’t seem capable of not hovering over the boy and touching him in small ways. Emil had laid out typical American fare—steak, chicken, mash and veg. It all smelled heavenly and, after hours of nothing, more than welcome.
Room was made for them on the couch. Malcolm made sure that Brenin had tucked into his plate before he took the drawings of Dracul’s castle from his bag. “Have a gander,” he said, handing them to Alex. “Brenin’s given us a partial schematic of the castle.”
“It’s the route I took,” the boy added, “when I escaped. And I also drew some other parts based on plans Dafydd pulled up on the computer when he showed me the way to go.” He focused on Malcolm’s return to the couch after that. Malcolm nodded in approval before starting his own meal.
While he studied a picture, Alex paced the entrance to the room. “Dracul’s boy was able to do that?” he asked without looking up.
Malcolm answered for Brenin on the assumption that he’d already taxed his comfort level. “Aye. Dracul underestimated him, for certain.”
“He was never a true mate, merely a slave.” This from Lucien. Everyone turned their head in his direction. “His life is forfeit, I’m sure, once Harry delivers the baby. Then Harry won’t be needed anymore, either. Demi, though, will have value.”
Lucien’s voice caught on that last word and his eyes filled with tears. He was obviously picturing his son as Dracul’s next sex slave, and why shouldn’t he? It was the logical assumption, if it hadn’t happened already. Although, to Malcolm’s knowledge, a hybrid had yet to be changed and bred, it stood to reason that it would be easier to do than it was with a human. Demi, in fact, might become wholly female, as a member of their species would have back when drones repopulated their hive. If Dracul succeeded in turning Demi into a queen… Well, it didn’t bear pondering. Dracul could populate the Earth with hundreds of his offspring within years. There was no point in raising the issue, however. Poor Lucien was grievously worried as it was and they needed to focus on the task at hand—killing Dracul once and for all.
“Oh, sweetie.” It was Val’s husband who went to Lucien and, sitting on the arm of the couch, hugged the man. Or, at least, he tried to. Lucien sat stiffly, unable or unwilling to accept the comfort. “We’ll get them both back alive.”
“Fucking A we will.” This from the darker copper, Duncan.
Brenin took in a visibly shaky breath. “Dafydd saved me, even knowing his own life was on the line.” He put his fork down and sat back. “After that bomber guy failed, the monster went berserk. He was taking it out on me and would have killed me if Dafydd hadn’t intervened.”
He stared out into the room with unfocused eyes. “Dafydd used his escape plan to help me get out.” Now, he looked at Malcolm. “We can’t let him die.”
“We won’t.” Running his palm along Brenin’s cheek, he added, “I promise.” He really had no right to do that. Bringing down Dracul and saving Dafydd from death weren’t the same thing. One was almost a certainty. The other was much iffier. Still, he couldn’t stand seeing Brenin so sad. He would have said almost anything to ease his worry.
Alex went to the chair occupied by his boy, Quinn. Without missing a beat, he lifted the human up, took his place and set him on his lap. Quinn melted into the man, clearly used to the position. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that we can get in the way Brenin got out.”
“It would be a powerful risk. I have to assume Petru has it blocked—or perhaps merely booby-trapped. And there are surveillance cameras all around the perimeter, regardless.”
“Dafydd took the one near the tunnel offline so I wouldn’t be detected,” Brenin offered. “They must know that by now and will have made adjustments so it doesn’t happen again.” Malcolm was pleased to see he’d started eating again. The boy was far too thin still.
“This Dafydd guy sounds like he’s wicked smart and a good man to have on our side,” Duncan remarked.
“Except, isn’t he, like, ready to pop? That’s got to hinder everything he does,” the other cop asked. “Plus, Dracul must have him under lock and key like never before, at this point.”
“You’re right about that, Anderson,” Val confirmed. “Stupid, Dracul is not.”
“And,” Lucien added, “if he’s indeed near his time, he will be almost incapacitated. A human woman’s body is designed to adjust fully to pregnancy, but it’s not the same for a changed man. At least, it wasn’t for me. My hips and back gave out. I was on bed rest for the last few weeks.”
“It was getting hard for him to move about,” Brenin concurred. “I doubt he can help us anymore.”
“Nor can Harry,” Emil added. “No way Dracul is giving him free rein of the castle.”
“They’d be together, wouldn’t they?” Quinn asked. “I mean, isn’t that the most likely scenario—that Harry and Demi are locked away with Dafydd? That would make things easier for us.”
Alex gave him a quick kiss. “Excellent point, dear boy. This has turned into a two-pronged mission. We still have to take out Dracul and as many of his men as we can. But we are also now mounting a rescue. We’ll need to split into two groups. And,” he added with a pointed look at his boy, “when I say ‘we’, I don’t mean you. You boys aren’t coming and this is not something we would ask our human allies to risk their own lives for.”
There was an eruption of dissent. Every human boy started haranguing his husband or lover, as the case may be, about how they were coming, too. The cops joined, while the women merely shot silent glares in the men’s general direction, as if not wanting to waste their breath on an argument. He suspected that they knew they’d have their way, whatever they decided to do. His kind was hard-wired to acquiesce to females.
In the end, it was Lucien who brought the whole thing to a stop by standing and clapping his hands once. The sharp sound penetrated the din and, surprisingly, had everyone shutting up.
“I am going,” he said with quiet dignity. “Alex, you are the head of this family and I hold you in the highest esteem. Nevertheless, my husband and son are in danger and I will not sit here while I wait for news about their fate. I will not interfere with your attack on the castle. I know I would only be a hindrance, but I will go. Please do not mistake my submission to my husband as weakness. If you don’t take me, I will find a way on my own.”
Mackie jumped to his feet. “Yeah, what he said.”
Val glared at his husband. “What happened to your vow to obey?”
The boy folded his arms and stared coolly back at Val. “Red.”
Val rolled his eyes. “Fuck me.”
Although Malcolm wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, he knew a mutiny when he saw one. This time, there was no point in fighting it. “Captain, how about we all go and the non-combatants can stay on my boat in the nearby village. It should be safe there. Although I’m going to have to get a bigger one that is also not as conspicuous as my yacht in order to accommodate this lot.”
Alex didn’t reply right away. Glancing around the room, he finally landed on the one person that clearly mattered the most to him. “I would have you stay safe,” he said to Quinn.
“Nowhere is safe until Dracul is dead.” The boy pressed his forehead against Alex’s. “Please. I know I can’t stick to your side the whole time, but I need to go as far as I can.”
“Very well.”
Alex sealed his answer with a kiss that was so tender and filled with such love that it made Malcolm’s heart ache. He’d thought he could live the rest of his life without loving someone like that. He wasn’t sure anymore and didn’t dare look at Brenin, for fear his thoughts and emotions would show.
“That’s that, then,” he said instead and speared another piece of Emil’s excellent steak.
“I suppose it is,” Alex agreed. “However, Kitty, I’m going to ask you to stay here to keep an eye on things. Not only are the renovations still ongoing, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibilities that while we’re attacking Dracul, he’ll be launching another disruption here.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Thank you. Sergeant, Detective, may I ask you to back her up as need be?”
“Sure,” Anderson said. “I’m all yours,” he added to Kitty. He wore an expression that conveyed a deeper meaning, which Malcolm decided was none of his business.
Duncan’s answer was different. Hitching up his pants, he said, “With all due respect, no fucking way.”
“Sergeant,” Alex began.
“No.” He ran his hand over the top of his head. “Look. This is Demi we’re talking about. I know there’s Dracul and the fate of my world and all that, but the moment he took the kid, he made it real personal for me.” He shifted his gaze over to Lucien. “This isn’t right. Believe me, I get that. He matters, though. I’ve got, ah…feelings for the kid. I’m going.”
“Yes, you are,” came Lucien’s quiet reply. “Demi will be happy to see you. Whether he should be or not is something his father and I are going to have to worry about…later, once he’s home safely under our roof.” He sat again and stared at his knees.
Alex huffed. “Well, I suppose that’s settled. Logan, what is your will on this?”
The scruffy woman sat hunched at the dining counter. She’d said nothing to date, yet had a sharp eye for what was going on. She shrugged. “Never been to Wales. Could be fun, especially if I get to blow something up.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, don’t you think, Malcolm?”
“Aye,” he replied with a grin.
“Wait! What are we going to do about a doctor?” Jase, the quietest of the boys, said, curled against Emil in an oversized chair. “If one of you gets hurts on the way in, Harry won’t be able to help you. And what if he’s injured when you do find him? Who’s going to take care of the wounded?”
It was on the tip of Malcolm’s tongue to say that, among his kind, death was more likely, given their physiology and how quickly their bodies disintegrated. He didn’t want to upset Brenin, though. Brenin spoke up before he could, anyway.
“What about Doc McPhee?”
Malcolm shook his head. “Och, no, although it’s a grand thought. She’s too old to go into a deadly situation, untrained as she is. Besides, the village is remote and depends on her for its daily healthcare. I wouldn’t feel right about her risking her life, either, for their sake.”
Duncan said into the silence that followed, “I think I have a solution, not that anyone is going to like it any better. I’m not sure I do, but we could always ask Paz.”
There was some general mumbling and grumbling over this suggestion. Malcolm glanced at Brenin and shook his head in response to the boy’s unspoken question.
It was Willem who finally asked. “Who the hell is he?”
“A human,” Val replied.
“A doctor,” Duncan clarified. “And one that, for better or worse, knows all about you.”
“He is very curious about us,” Emil added. “I expect he’d jump at the chance to study us.”
Malcolm was skeptical. “Is he willing to risk his life for that opportunity?”
“I’ll ask him,” Duncan offered. “Jase is right. Harry and, ah, Demi, might need care. We have to assume they aren’t being kept in good condition.”
Misery was written large on the human’s face. Harry’s son obviously meant a lot to him, which was strange. In all their years on Earth, Malcolm wasn’t sure there’d ever been a pairing of a hybrid with a human. Not that this was a matchmaking opportunity, and how old was Harry’s kid anyway? Old enough to be entering his puberty cycle, perhaps. And didn’t that just add to the general difficulty of the situation?
Alex nodded. “There’s no harm in your asking, I suppose. Please do so, Sergeant. Of course, nothing is going to happen unless and until we figure out a way to get into that castle.”
That set them all to brooding. In the silent contemplation, Malcolm tried to urge Brenin to finish his food. The boy had been awfully quiet during the negotiations of who was going where and doing what. It occurred to Malcolm with the kind of sudden clarity that made grown men bang their heads on walls that he’d promised Brenin he could stay in Boston.
“You don’t have to come back, laddie. You can still stay here.”
Brenin turned his head and looked at him thoughtfully. “No, that’s okay. I want to go. I always have, frankly, because I need to see an end to the monster. I only agreed to remain here so that you wouldn’t worry about me.”
“Och, now you don’t have to be concerned about me and my feelings.”
“Well, I am.” He blinked and smiled. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
Malcolm smiled broadly, inordinately pleased that his feelings mattered to the boy. He was painfully aware that everyone in the room was listening in. “It is. Finish your food, though. You need fattening.”
Brenin scooped up some potatoes and vegetables. He chewed thoughtfully. “I was just thinking about how to get in.”
“Don’t you worry about that.”
“No, I want to. I think I have an idea—the cistern.”
* * * *
Trey felt like some fifties teenager leaning against his car while waiting for Betty Lou to get out of school for the day. Being a cop had its advantages, though. He knew that Paz was taking a shift at the hospital, when he’d be done and which car was his. It made sense to hang in the freezing cold, stamping his feet and mulling over how he was going to raise the issue of the doctor going to Wales. If he looked suspicious or stupid, so be it. With a plan forming of how to invade the castle, they would be leaving Boston in a couple of days. There was no time to waste getting Paz onboard. At a minimum, the guy would surely be required to put in for some time off or something. Trey had already done it and even with the amount he’d accumulated, there still wasn’t certainty that he’d be allowed to take his ‘vacation’.
Fuck me, I’ll quit if I have to.
Yeah, that’s what it had come down to. Saving Demi had become paramount in his life. Not even the job he loved mattered more to him. He should never have let himself get in so deep with the kid. Only a few days ago, he would have continued to deny that he had. Not anymore. He’d stared into the eyes of the boy’s father and all but declared his love for the boy. Christ Jesus. He was a mental case for thinking that he had any business wanting someone who was part alien and of dubious maturity.
It didn’t matter that the Commonwealth said that a sixteen-year-old could give consent. The law wasn’t the issue—a sense of right and wrong was. Demi’s chronological age was probably greater than that, based on what little Trey had gleaned since becoming embroiled with the Stelalux clan. Nevertheless, his behavior so far screamed ‘kid’ and Trey wasn’t about to take advantage of his crush for a more mature man. Not yet, anyway, and perhaps not ever. That didn’t mean he could or would sit back while Demi was in the hands of a monster. The thought of it was driving Trey madder with each passing minute. He had to do something.
“Duncan?”
Shit, his head had been so far up his own ass that he’d missed the doctor coming. He turned to face him. “Yeah, sorry, Doc. Got a minute?”
Paz raised his eyebrows. “I suppose, given that whatever it is you’ve come about must be very important for you to stand around waiting for me. I do have a phone, you know,” he added, unlocking his car.
“Yeah, this is best done in person and it’s urgent.”
“Come and sit inside. I can turn on the heater.”
“Thanks.” Trey got into the passenger side and sighed in relief when the hot air started blasting out of the console. “We need your help,” he said without preamble.
“I’m listening. And I assume by ‘we’, you don’t mean the police department?”
“Right. I’m talking about our unearthly friends.” He made a whistling sound and twirled his forefinger up toward the night sky.
Paz angled his body to look at him more directly. “Well, you do know how to push my buttons. Keeping that secret is almost physically painful and my access to them has been more limited than my scientific curiosity would prefer. What is it that you need?”
Trey rubbed his hands near the vents, to marshal thoughts that should have been put into place while he’d waited for the guy. He finally spit it all out and Paz was kind enough to listen without interrupting.
Trey grimaced when he finished. “What do you say, Doc? Feel like a suicide mission to Wales?”
“You don’t really think it’s that, though, do you? High stakes and high risk, sure, but a doable one. A survivable one.”
“What I think doesn’t mean jack.” Because he would walk through a wall of fire if it meant a chance to save Demi. “The others are pretty confident. Make that really confident, but then I think that’s their default setting, you know? Not sure anything much rattles them.”
Paz stared out of the windshield, thinking and thinking some more. Finally, “Emergency medicine is certainly something I have experience with and I do think I can be of help there. I was also in the ROTC in high school, so I’ve have a modicum of military training. I’m not afraid to get involved in a fight.”
He looked again at Trey. “I’d be lying, though, if I didn’t admit that what really intrigues me is the chance to study this man who was physiologically changed to become pregnant and deliver a baby. That is some freaky shit.”
Trey sighed. “Yeah, I get that.” Talking about it gave Trey uncomfortable thoughts, too. Was Demi, although a hybrid, like Dafydd in this way? Could Demi get pregnant? No, no way that train of thought led anywhere other than to the town of madness.
“Just don’t be too vocal about your curiosity,” he advised. “These guys are very protective of their own, especially their significant others and offspring. This Dafydd kid may be Dracul’s, but he saved this other boy, Brenin. And there’s something obviously between him and Malcolm and…bottom line, this has turned into a rescue mission for Dafydd as well as Harry and Demi.”
“What of the baby?”
Trey sharpened his expression. “What about him?”
“He’s Dracul’s son and Dracul is their mortal enemy. Are they actually intending to save him, too?”
“Of course.” Even as the reply left his mouth, Trey realized he hadn’t thought about it. No one had said that, not in so many words. Not in any, now that he’d been forced to consider it.
“Let me make myself clear, Duncan. I’ll move mountains to get the time off and go on this rescue mission with all of you, so long as it’s agreed that if the intent is to kill that baby or abandon him to certain death, I won’t have any part in it.”
“Right. Understood. You should come by the club as soon as you’re able for a skull session. We need all capable minds on the planning. You can, ah, talk with Alex to get all the reassurance you need.”
“I’ll get started on my time-off request tomorrow morning then head over. My next shift’s not until five at night anyway.” He flashed a grin. “Holy Mary, mother of God, am I really going to storm a castle with aliens? You couldn’t make this shit up if you tried.”
Trey dropped his head onto the back of his seat. “Tell me about it.”