An Erie Operetta (6 page)

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Authors: V.L. Locey

BOOK: An Erie Operetta
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Mikel placed both hands to the wall of books that backed the wintry lake. His brow rested on the spine of a well-read tome. I waited. I knew the man would curb the beast. After several deep breaths he pushed back from the shelves that held Dickens, Shakespeare, Twain, Austin, and Fitzgerald.

“You’re right,” he admitted, flopping down into a large padded chair behind his desk. “I must not let my disgust for his kind endanger what we hope to accomplish here, for our gay brothers and sisters.”

I smiled at him. He really is a good wolfish man.

“Shall I ask Rugby to show him in?” I offered. Mikel rolled a lip but nodded. I sprang from the settee, opened the door, inhaled to shout, and then leaped a foot into the air when Rugby appeared out of the murky shadows of Lupei Manor.

“Did you require anything, Master Reed?”

I swallowed down my heart to reply. “Yes, Rugby. Would you inform Agent Elysian that Master Lupei will see him in his study as soon as is convenient?”

“Right away, Master Reed. Would you care for some refreshments while you await Agent Elysian? Mrs. Dunrite has just removed a tray of apricot boysenberry tarts from the oven.”

“No, I don’t think we’ll be needing--”

“I should like some tarts.” I smiled at Rugby after Mikel’s request bounced down the stone-walled hall. The manservant nodded to me and hurried off. I reentered the den, closing the heavy door behind me. Mikel was standing in front of the fire, still in his tuxedo, as I was. I walked over to stand beside him. We both stared into the fire.

“When he arrives, try to be the civil man I fell in love with,” I whispered over the cracking of a ripe green log in the flames. Mikel grunted. I fought the urge to reach up and tidy his hair. It was loose now, blown from its tie during the ride home. I had huddled inside the parlor of the paddleboat with Dave and Edward. Mikel had stayed on the bow, battling the need to shift and kill a certain Nosferarti agent. His clothes were still steaming slightly as the fire tried to dry him. I stepped to the side, content to just rest my head on his bicep. Mikel’s arm slid around my waist. We never heard the vampire enter the den.

“Isn’t this romantic?” Vincente asked as we both turned a tad too quickly to maintain an innocent appearance. The smile our pale guest wore was smug, to say the least. I looked at the door. It was still closed. “Please, don’t stop snuggling on my account,” he said as he lowered his tall frame gracefully onto the same settee I had been seated on. A low rumble vibrated out of Mikel.

“Did you turn to mist?” I asked Vincente. He glanced up from brushing some perceived dust from his impeccably tailored smoke gray suit jacket. Nice to see he had taken the time to change once arriving at the manse.

“Did I? Perhaps I turned into a bat and flittered down the chimney like jolly Old Saint Nick.” He chuckled. “Oh, for the love of darkness, would you try to smile?” Vincente said with a roll of his eyes. “You lycans are so damned humorless.”

“I fail to see how any of your asinine quips could be thought of as amusing,” Mikel replied, stalking back to his desk. I was glad to see him plant his tasty backside behind it. That would at least put one substantial hunk of furniture between him and the vampire. I walked over to sit down on a prim little chair with needlepoint on the seat cushion. Mikel liked to collect antique furniture, I had discovered. This delicate French needlepoint chair was a recent purchase from a friend in Europe. Mikel did not dare sit in it, but he could enjoy looking at it. “Why don’t we get to the real reason you’re here in my home,
vampire.

“How discourteous,” Vincente commented, then leaned back to place one ankle to one knee. His red tie and white shirt worked well with the smoky suit he wore. “Of course, one can’t expect much more than that from a wolf, even if they do foist themselves off as scholarly. No matter how many Louis XIV chairs he buys, a wolf will always show his dander, won’t he?”

“Agent Elysian,” I slipped in as Mikel’s rolling growls grew louder, “Would you
please
just tell us why you wish to stay here, in a mansion filled with werewolves.”

“Does it bother you, my foul-smelling little wolf lover?” he inquired, his eyes twinkling with delight at the game he was playing. I lifted my chin a bit higher.

“Not in the least,” I informed him tartly. “You’re due a room in any home that you wish to reside in. That is an old law, passed down over the centuries.”

“True. Your man is coming with some baked goods,” Vincente announced casually. Rugby knocked on the door. I rose to open it. The manservant came in, but his dark eyes never strayed from Vincente relaxing on the settee. After I assured the majordomo all was perfection, he left. I offered Agent Elysian a tart, which he of course refused, and then I placed the tray before Mikel. I then reclaimed my dainty seat.

“So.” I inhaled the rich aroma of the tiny tart resting on a glass dish on my lap. “The reason you chose to stay here when you could have forced yourself into any home near Erie?”

“I ask not for myself, for I will only reside here during the day. By the way, your pups will have to place my sleeping quarters in your wine cellar,” Vincente told Mikel. “I hope I don’t keep you from a claret when I’m resting.”

“If you’re not asking for yourself, then who are you asking for?” I asked uncertainly. I had read that vampires sometimes joined together to form cells. If their numbers grew low or they were being hunted heavily they would swarm together. There is safety in numbers after all. Perhaps he needed sanctuary for a fellow vampire. I prayed to the old gods that was not the case. I wasn’t sure I could intercede for two or more undead houseguests. I took a bite of the flaky tart then replaced it on the dish. Mikel had yet to touch a tart, I noticed.

“I am asking for my human male lover, Akio. Since gay men, as well as those of us who enjoy the tang of both sexes, live under this rather dismal roof, it seemed the right sort of place to linger while I ferret out who killed that man at the opera.” I gaped for a moment then looked at Mikel. My lover was just as shocked.

“What makes you think there are any homosexual men of any kind in this--”

“Spare me your feeble attempts at covering up what you are, Skunk. Even if I hadn’t been inside that clever little mind of yours for a second, it would have been obvious when I entered the room. Your secret is safe with me,” Vincente said. He gave us what I think was supposed to be a warm smile. Vampires don’t do warm well.

“You enjoy being with men?” Mikel finally asked.

“You sound surprised. Vampires should be credited with coming up with bisexuality, if you ask me. When you have to feed from any vein you can find, taking pleasure in the flesh that houses that vein is as natural as breathing, well, if we breathed, that is,” he said, growing weary of our stupidity, it appeared. “So, will you allow my Akio to live here? I could keep him hidden in a remote cabin, but he grows despondent when left alone too long.”

“You want to bring your thrall here, to my house, to live?” Mikel asked. Vincente nodded. “I would sooner chew off my own leg than allow one of your miserable blood slaves to move among my pack.”

“Ah, I see. So this grand dream of a loving, open-minded commune doesn’t apply to all? Do you hear the hypocrisy in that,
wolf
?” Vincente fired back.

“He’s right, Mikel,” I said after a terribly awkward moment passed. I glanced over at my man glaring across his desk at the vampire. “We can’t say this house is for only for certain kinds of GLBT mystical folk. It has to be open to all, or we’re just as bad as the elders.”

“But he’s a bloody vampire!” Mikel snarled, leaving his seat so rapidly the old wooden chair toppled backwards to land with a mighty thud on the floor. “A thrall.” Mikel began circling the study once more. He rolled the word “thrall” around in his mouth like it was a tasty pork knuckle. I sat rigidly in my seat. Vincente began picking at his pale fingernails. “A miserable walking blood bag.”

“Akio is far more than a quick snack. He and I are... well, he has become special to me rather quickly. I would appreciate it if you would stop tossing such offensive terms around.”

“Are you offended, Nosferarti? Good. I hope you are so disgusted with my barbarity that you leave my home, never to return.” Mikel shouted. I winced as the heated words flew over the top of my head. Agent Elysian yawned, showing a fine set of fangs. The gem resting on his brow glowed softly behind his bangs.

“Blustering canines bore me. Either accept my Akio here or don’t. The sun is due up in ten minutes and I would like to have time to brush my teeth before I retire.”

I turned to look up at Mikel. He was directly behind me, his body throwing off vibrantly rich smelling waves of disgust, anger, and trepidation. Vincente cocked one thin black eyebrow. He had us. He knew he had us. Right by the short hairs. Mikel knew it as well.

“Send for your thrall,” Mikel ground out. I closed my eyes in relief. “But the first time I see you suckling from him I will throw your casket out into the sun, set it on fire, and then lift my leg to piss on the burning pyre.”

“As long as no harm comes to Akio.” Vincente turned into a misty cloud that slithered between door and frame. I sat there, stupefied. Then I yawned.

“Come, Templeton.” I looked to the left to see Mikel’s wide hand opened for mine. “Time for bed.”

We left the den by the tried and true shifter method: opening the door and walking through it.

Seven

The gentle insistence of a refined butler gently pulled me from sleep. I rolled over lethargically, yawning so widely my ears popped. Rugby stood beside the bed, neat as a shiny pin, with an air of excited expectation billowing off him.

“What time is it, Rugby?” I asked as I sat up, taking care to ensure my genitals were covered by the bedding. Mikel and I had worked out our anxieties last night after coming to bed. Pajamas had not been tolerated by either of us. Now I wished I had my bottoms at least. I rolled my head around in circles. Several loud pops filled the huge bedroom.

“It’s a quarter after the hour of six, Master Reed.” Rugby handed me some lounge pants, which I thanked him for.

“I hate having to work for a living,” I complained as I stepped into my pants. Rugby bustled around me, trying to get me into a robe or slippers. “I’ll shower before I dress. Has Mikel left for the office already?” I asked as I lurched into the bathroom. Rugby followed. I glanced at him then lifted the lid on the toilet. He hustled to the shower to turn the taps on and adjust the temperature.

“Oh yes, Master Reed! Master Lupei and the other gents were called out at half past the hour of two.”

I turned to gape at the servant. “Why so early? Has there been another rogue attack?” I asked, my pulse speeding up a bit. I quickly returned to the task at hand, so to speak.

“So it seems, Master Reed. I was not made privy to the details, of course, but the look upon Master Lupei’s face led me to believe it was another killing.”

“Damn.” I flushed, washed my hands, then walked over to the servant.

“Just so, Master Reed. Just so,” Rugby mumbled as he removed my robe from his forearm, placed it on the counter, then held the shower curtain aside. “What can I get for your breakfast this morning?”

“Rugby, you don’t have to do this for me,” I said as steam began to fill the lavatory. His dark eyes dropped instantly to my feet.

“I am most apologetic, Master Reed. I thought that my getting the shower ready would--”

“Rugby, no, that’s not what I meant.” I hurried to explain. His gaze flickered up to meet mine. “I meant you don’t need to be -- well, you don’t have to do -- I mean... I’ve lived for a few hundred years taking care of myself. I’m a lesser breed, you know. Quite the same as you to be honest.”

His black eyes widened. “Oh no, Master Reed. You are not like us Halflings
at all
. You’re the chosen mate of Master Lupei, the alpha of the Lake Erie pack. Your standing in society is elevated to such a great level that I--”

“Rugby, I’m the
gay
mate of the alpha of the Lake Erie pack. That holds no honor or distinction in our world.” I smiled as I reached for a towel off the stack. He lunged for it, then held it open for me. “Rugby,” I said as I took the towel from him gently, “You know as well as I that if Mikel and I were to be outed, we would be exiled, at the very least, and at the worst, thrown into Lake Erie with cement blocks tied to our feet.”

The poor majordomo looked close to fainting at my gruesome remark.

“What I’m trying to say is that I don’t require a butler turning on my water, or laying out my clothes, or making sure my butter is warmed enough to spread but not enough to make it sloppy.” One pointed ear twitched as he worked over things mentally.

“I am most sorry to have displeased you. I will work harder to ensure your every request is met immediately. Not just by myself but by the others on staff.”

His eyes were round, black pools filled with self-loathing. I exhaled, smiled, and then handed the towel back to him.

“You haven’t displeased me at all. I was just worried that I was working you too hard.” I shucked off my lounging pants then stepped into the shower. Rugby closed the curtain with a smooth swoop of his arm.

“I live to serve, Master Reed. What would you wish for to break your fast?”

I stared at the wall, trying to overcome a creeping sad frustration.

“Surprise me,” I replied.

“Mrs. Dunrite is always pleased when you send that message down!” Rugby replied cheerfully, then exited with a reminder to ring when I was done bathing. I vowed that I would. I heard the heavy door close.

“By the elders,” I murmured. How did one free a person that could not envision freedom?

***

I had just settled down at the empty dining table to eat breakfast when the phone rang. Rugby toddled over to lift the handle of the old rotary phone and place it to his knife-like ear. Mrs. Dunrite stood behind me. I could feel her eyes upon me. Fearing a dwarven axe buried in my back lest I consume all the food on the platter before me, I kept forking the eggs and sausage in.

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