Bound in Blood (5 page)

“I apologise again, Andorra. But for your quick actions all those years ago, I would not be here today. And you’re right. It’s time I put the past to rest and looked to the future.”

Roger had been transfixed by the scene played out in front of him. Now, he saw a chance to lighten the atmosphere. “And this Chris guy might just be the one to help you with that,” he said.

“Well, it’s a little early.”

“Nah. I knew soon as I looked at the big guy here,” Roger continued, beaming up at Marcus. “And Ron knew the first time he clapped eyes on Jean-Claude. And Micah—”

“All right, Roger,” Marcus said, chuckling. “I think we get the picture. You’re a great believer in love at first sight.”

The friends smiled as the moment of tension passed, but later, alone in his room, his cousin Andorra’s words rankled in Carlos’ mind. Was it so obvious to them all that the past years of his existence had been spent searching for what he could never find—a devotion as deep and as rich as the love he’d shared with Miguel?

So many times, in his loneliness, he had considered himself fortunate in having family and friends he could turn to for solace and companionship. Most of all, Andorra, his cousin, to whom he had run on the night he had been savaged by vampires, knowing only she could help him. If he had listened to her warnings, of course, there would have been no need for her protection. If he had not ventured into the den of darkness, lured by the handsome lord whose reputation was anything but pure. If he had resisted the carnal desire with which the man infused him, then all that had transpired would have been… Been what? Nothing…

Nothing
.

Carlos groaned as these dark memories flooded his mind. He had ignored his cousin Andorra’s warning, even though he knew of the dark realm from which she too had tried to escape those years ago. He and Andorra had been the only survivors—the rest of her family taken in a hideous and terror-stricken manner. For years he had tried to put these terrible BOUND IN BLOOD

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memories to rest. Why now were they foremost in his mind? Why, after the most wondrous evening he had spent in as long as he could remember?

But some memories linger, and he would never forget his and Andorra’s flight to France to try to stop the Comte d’Arcy from making good his promise to kill all of Andorra’s family if she and her younger brother Anton did not give themselves up for his pleasure.

They had arrived too late. Anton had committed suicide rather than be a vampire’s plaything, and the Comte had taken a terrible revenge, killing Andorra’s parents and sisters in a brutal and callous fashion. How Carlos had missed her during the years of her seclusion when she had shut herself away from the world to mourn the loss of her family and to never forgive the monster who had taken them from her.

Wrenching himself from the memories his cousin’s words had brought him, he brought before him the sweet vision of the young man he had made love to so few hours ago.

“Christopher,” he whispered. “Can you be the one who will heal my soul? I did not erase the memory of our time together as I have done with so many others in the past. I have a deep and desirous wish to see you again. To hold you again. To love you again.” Carlos sighed as he brought the image of Chris’ face into sharp focus. The fine bones, the tousled fair hair, the large light-blue eyes that had so quickly darkened with lust during their lovemaking, the soft, full mouth…

He’d had sex with many mortals over the years, but few had touched him as Christopher had. Just as Andorra had pointed out, it was his habit to make those young men forget him, often after their first meeting, and as Andorra had also stated on more than one occasion, even though she knew it angered him, he did it only because none, not one, could ever compare with Miguel.

Of course, she was right.

Miguel had not only been a beautiful man in appearance, his soul had held a radiance that shone through his eyes, captivating all who ever met him and those who grew to know him well. Andorra had introduced them a few short years after Carlos had been changed.

Carlos could still remember that night when she had brought the tall, darkly blond Navarran before him.

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“Carlos,” she had said in that sultry voice that had captured a hundred men’s hearts when she
was a mortal woman, “I would like you to meet Miguel Ramirez. Miguel, this is my cousin, Carlos
Galeano.” She had left them almost immediately, drifting across the room, a vision of elegance and
beauty in a crystal-beaded, silk gown of deepest burgundy.

Miguel had smiled into Carlos’ eyes, and Carlos was lost in that smile, the attraction he felt for
the other man bringing him the start of an arousal that made his pale skin flush slightly with
discomfort
.

“Your cousin is a most beautiful woman,” Miguel said, touching Carlos’ arm, indicating that
they should walk outside into the cool night air.

“Yes, she is.”

“And it seems to be a family trait,” he continued, his eyes sweeping over Carlos’ face and body.

Carlos laughed lightly. “Thank you, but few can compare to the Lady Andorra.”

“Few women, perhaps…” Miguel’s eyes, a radiant blue, locked on Carlos as he spoke, his voice
low and husky and incredibly beguiling.

Carlos did not miss the invitation in those eyes, nor did he refuse it. With one swift movement,
he drew Miguel into his arms, holding him in a tight embrace, their lips meeting in a bruising and
passionate kiss. As their tongues meshed and caressed, Carlos probed the razor-like sharpness of
Miguel’s fangs. His blood spilled onto Miguel’s tongue from the self-inflicted cut, and the rich taste of
it inflamed the senses of both men.

Miguel’s arms tightened about Carlos. “Come away with me,” he urged. “Come to my house,
and let me love you until the dawn’s light.”

Carlos sighed as those memories of their first night together came back to haunt him, again. One hundred years had passed since Miguel’s death, a short span of time in a vampire’s existence, and through all that time, he had never forgotten him, nor found someone to love as he had loved Miguel. Sometimes, he could understand Andorra’s impatience, even if her voicing it irritated him.

Perhaps she was right. He had been alone too long. Perhaps it was time to explore new possibilities. Around the edges of the thick window shutters, Carlos saw the faint traces of approaching dawn. He stripped off his clothes and slipped between the cool sheets. When he closed his eyes, a vision of Christopher’s sweet face swam before him, and he smiled. Not in as long as he could remember had he ever sought to retain the memory of those with whom BOUND IN BLOOD

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he’d had sex. They remembered only what he allowed of the encounter, and he would so quickly and easily forget them—but not this time, not Christopher. For in Carlos’ mind, what he and Christopher had shared, had not been mere sex, it had been much, much more and had touched his soul.

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Chris sat staring at his computer screen, trying to concentrate on the words and figures before his eyes. He had an exam at the end of the week, and the online crash course he’d signed up for wasn’t doing it for him. For three days and nights, he had thought of nothing and no one but Carlos, the fantastic man who had saved him from a vicious beating, who had made love to him like only some fantasy lover could—and who had then vanished without a trace. Chris had fallen asleep in shelter of the man’s arms and when he’d awoken, Carlos had been gone. He’d looked for him in the club, hoping that he would see that tall, familiar figure standing at the bar, his dark mysterious eyes searching the crowd, searching for no one but—

“Me!” Chris blurted, pushing his chair away from the computer desk and jumping to his feet. He paced his small living room, a desperate, frustrated mood clouding his mind.

Why hadn’t he come back? Had their night together meant so little to him? He’d been so loving, so completely into what they’d shared. Chris had been sure of that at the time—but now?

Am I so naïve that I have to suppose it meant as much to him as it did to me
? he thought, shaking his head sadly.
A man like that, so beautiful and sophisticated, must have his pick of anyone
he wants—and what do I have to offer him? Only myself…and obviously that isn’t enough.

Sighing, he sat down again at his desk and resumed staring at the screen in front of him, trying again to concentrate on the test. A little chime told him he had mail. Carlos?

Don’t be silly
, he chided himself. Carlos hadn’t asked for his email address—or his phone number, now he came to think about it. He really hadn’t wanted to keep in touch.

The email was from his friend Joey.

Wanna go 4 a beer? meet u at the blue moon in 20.

He emailed back.

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Sure—c u there.

Might as well. Joey was always good company. They’d been friends since junior high—

two gay boys protecting each other from the bullies who had lurked in the locker rooms and shadowy corridors. The so-called jocks had always been ready to pounce on and beat the shit out of any ‘fag’ who strayed their way. The guys who had tried to beat him up in the alley were most likely products of that same environment. But Joey and he had formed a close bond that had grown stronger with the years, and Chris had become the rock Joey turned to when his heart was broken—which, Chris reflected with a rueful grin, was just about three times a year. Joey hated being without a boyfriend, and his eagerness to see only the good qualities in them often left him crushed by their flakiness. Fortunately, after the last disaster, Joey didn’t seem in any hurry to make another mistake.

Chris took a moment to brush his teeth and run a comb through his hair then picked up his bomber jacket. He was headed for the door when a gentle knock stopped him in his tracks.

Who…?

He flung open the door then gasped with surprise and no small measure of delight at the sight of the tall, dark-haired man who stood framed in the doorway, smiling down at him.

“Carlos,” he whispered. “Come in.”

Carlos’ smile deepened, and he stepped inside. He glanced at the bomber jacket Chris held. “You were going out?”

Chris threw the jacket onto a chair. “No…well, yeah, but I can cancel. Joey’ll understand. I’ll call him right now.”

“I don’t want to spoil your plans.”

“No, you won’t,” Chris assured him. “I was just meeting my friend Joey for a beer. He won’t mind, and I’d rather spend time with you,” he added shyly.

“Thank you.” Carlos smiled into Chris’ eyes then leant in to kiss his lips gently. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yes, it is—I mean, it’s good to see
you
again.” The kiss had left him slightly breathless.

“Let me just call Joey… Take off your coat. Make yourself at home.”

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“I brought some wine for us to share.”

“Great.” He punched in Joey’s number while Carlos removed his leather coat and hung it over the back of a chair. “Joey? Hey, I’m sorry. Can I catch you later? I forgot I had a friend coming round.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Not yet, but you’ll get to meet him.”

“
All right
. Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow. Have fun tonight.”

“Talk at you later. Bye, Joey.”

He grinned at Carlos. “Just a little white lie. Gee, it’s good to see you.” He paused for a moment then decided to throw caution to the wind. “I was beginning to think you didn’t want to see me again. I hoped you’d come to the club. We didn’t exchange any numbers or anything, so there was no way I could reach you.”

“I apologise. My friends had invited my cousin and her, uh,
fiancée
for a short visit.

They left an hour ago, and I came straight here after bidding them goodbye. I hope you don’t mind my not calling in advance.”

“No, not all,” Chris said quickly, slightly in awe of Carlos’ formal manners.
Was
everyone in Spain this polite
?

Carlos held out a hand to him, and Chris let himself be drawn into the taller man’s embrace. He sighed with happiness as he pressed his lips to the cool skin of Carlos’ neck, shivering with anticipation as the man’s mouth took his in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate.

When finally Carlos pulled back slightly, he murmured, “Since we were together, I have thought of little else but when I would see you again. I’m sorry I did not call on you sooner.”

Chris felt a surge of happiness at those words. He tilted his head back to receive another kiss, his arms encircling Carlos’ narrow waist, holding him tightly pressed to his own body.

Once again, Chris felt like he was dreaming. He’d hoped for this, wished for it—and now, it had happened. Carlos was here holding him against his thrilling body, kissing him breathless, making him weak at the knees—and hot damn, but it felt so good! Everything about this man had him enthralled. Not just his beautiful face and body. It was more than that. It was his warmth and sincerity, and the way he made Chris feel needed—
wanted
.

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“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured breathlessly, in between kisses.

“I would like to ask you something,” Carlos said quietly.

“Anything…”

“Can we sit awhile? Perhaps drink a glass of wine?”

“Sure.” Chris smiled at him happily. “I’ll get us a couple of glasses.” He ran behind the bar that separated the tiny kitchen from the living room and carefully brought two crystal glasses from one of the cabinets.

Carlos eyed the glasses with faint surprise as Chris put them on the bar top. “They are very beautiful,” he said, sliding onto a bar stool.