Make Me Soar (5 page)

I can tell him all about it tomorrow
.

Once they’d collected their clothes, Karl led him out of the club and back along the street with all the warehouses. The night was quiet but for the pulsing of the techno beat behind them.

“So are you here on your own?” Karl asked him as they walked along.

“Yes.” Dorian gazed at his surroundings. The landscape was industrial, with grime and graffiti everywhere. “Where is this party?”

Karl chuckled and pointed to a warehouse about forty feet away from them. “That is now a block of apartments. My friend Erich has a loft apartment, a big space with plenty of room, not to mention soundproofing.”

The word was enough to make Dorian’s heart beat just that little bit faster, but he said nothing. He followed Karl into the building and up endless stairs that smelled unpleasant until they reached the top floor. There were two doors, one of them made of metal, and Karl rapped on that one. Dorian could feel music pulsing through the floor.

The door swung open, and a tall blond man stood there, grinning. “Welcome.” Dorian was a little shocked to see that the guy was naked but for black boots, seemingly unperturbed to be standing where he could be seen by his neighbors. What was even more eye-catching was his very prominent erection.

This is certainly nothing like Manchester
, Dorian thought wryly.

Karl smiled. “Erich, this is Dorian.”

Erich nodded. “Come in.” He stood aside to let them enter and then closed the door behind them with a heavy
thunk
. Dorian followed them through another door into a wide room where seven or eight men were waiting, all of them naked. The lighting was low, and the music had a heady percussive beat.

One of the men grinned when he saw Dorian.
“Karl!
Sie haben uns ein neues Spielzeug gebracht
.”
The men around him laughed.

“
Ich liebe Frischfleisch
,” another added with a leer.

There was an edge to their laughter that had all the hairs on Dorian’s arms standing to attention. Karl prodded Dorian to go deeper into the room.

Dorian inspected his surroundings. The floor was covered in a layer of plastic, and the furniture had been pushed to the edge of the room. There was a low bench, like the ones at Collars & Cuffs, and a sling had been set up, suspended from heavy chains. More chains hung from the ceiling.
So far, so good
. He’d expected as much.

What made him catch his breath was the table, or rather, what lay on it.

Scalpels, thin blades, a wicked-looking implement in stainless steel that Dorian had only seen online, a huge tub of Crisco, an odd-looking pen with a wire trailing from it—and a bloodied towel.

The men advanced on him, hands tugging at thick, heavy cocks, their eyes gleaming, every last one of them grinning.

Dorian swallowed hard.

Fuck
.
What am I letting myself in for here?

“H
AVE
YOU
seen Dorian this week?” Alan asked Leo as they sat together with Miles in the bar area, enjoying a drink. It was Leo’s night off, and Jonathon was Dungeon Master. Leo seemed a lot more relaxed these days. He and Thomas were back to sharing the club’s responsibilities more evenly. Alan had been surprised to find Peter sitting in their office one night the previous week when Thomas had been there. The submissive seemed to be blossoming more with each passing week, and having him spend more time at Collars & Cuffs had had a wonderful effect on Thomas. There was such an air of peace and contentment about him, and everyone had noticed.

Alan had been at the club four nights that week, mainly because he was avoiding part of his job that he detested.
Anything
rather than stay at home and work. He’d intended on talking with Dorian, but the sub had been nowhere in sight.

Great
.
I decide to find out what’s going on, and he does a disappearing act
.

Leo paused, glass in midair. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him since Tuesday. Saturday nights, he’s usually here. Have you seen him, Miles?”

Miles gave a start. “Sorry. Did you ask me something?”

Alan regarded Miles intently. “Is everything all right? You’ve been very quiet this evening.”

Miles studied his glass. “Have either of you noticed anything different about Pietro tonight?”

Alan nodded. “I was going to ask you about that. I was watching the two of you in your scene. He did appear a little distracted.”

Leo murmured in agreement.

Miles huffed. “A little? Then you didn’t see all of it. I stopped the scene. Oh, he was adamant there was nothing wrong, but goddamn it, I know my pup.” He raised his chin to meet Alan’s gaze. “Glad it’s not just me, then.”

“Then let’s find out what’s going on,” Leo suggested. He glanced over Alan’s shoulder. “Pietro? Over here, please.”

A moment later, Pietro stood in front of their table, fidgeting and clearly reluctant to make eye contact. “Master Leo?”

Alan noted the sub’s pale face and listlessness.

Leo gave Miles a nod, and the Dom straightened in his chair. “What’s going on, pup?” he demanded bluntly. Pietro opened his mouth, and Miles cut him off. “And if you’re about to tell me there’s nothing wrong, think again. Because it’s not just me asking now.”

The three of them regarded Pietro, unblinking.

“Oh, this is
really
not fair,” Pietro whined. “Three Doms against one sub, that’s just not on.”

His lower lip trembled, and Alan couldn’t miss how he shivered.

“Pietro, we’re not ganging up on you. We’re concerned, that’s all.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for the sub to sit down. “So forget about the three Doms part and tell us what’s wrong.”

Pietro dropped into the chair and leaned back, biting his lip. “I… I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” he began, his gaze darting between the three of them.

Miles’s expression contorted, and in that moment, Alan sensed real conflict in him. It had to be difficult, knowing when to cross the line from Dom to lover.

Something in Pietro’s demeanor triggered a reaction in Alan’s head. His stomach knotted as the thought took a deeper hold and wouldn’t let go. “This is about Dorian.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it instinctively.
Shit
.
What has that boy gone and done?

Pietro’s eyes widened. “Oh God,” he said softly. His face was a mask of misery and something else—fear.

“Tell me now,” Alan demanded, pushing every ounce of authority into his tone. His heart raced and his palms grew clammy. “You know where he is, don’t you?”

Pietro nodded, his gaze fixed on Alan. “He’s in Berlin,” he whispered.

Miles reached across and squeezed his hand, gaining a grateful glance from his lover.

“What the hell is he doing in Berlin?” Leo’s voice broke through the turmoil in Alan’s brain. His mind was already going through various computations, and he didn’t like the answers.

Oh hell
.
Dorian, tell me you didn’t….

Pietro didn’t break eye contact with Alan. “He flew there on Thursday. He was going to visit some sex club.” The sub swallowed. “He promised me he’d stay in touch, but….”

“When did you last hear from him?” This came from Miles.

“Friday afternoon.”

“Okay, that’s not so bad.”

Alan knew Leo was trying to inject some calm into the conversation.

“It’s only been just over twenty-four hours.” He glanced at Alan, his eyes betraying what his words masked. Leo was worried.

Alan was more than worried. He’d experienced Berlin’s sex clubs firsthand.

Pietro shook his head vehemently. “You don’t understand.” He began counting off on his fingers. “I had texts from the airport, when he landed, when he got to his hotel, Thursday night at this club, when he woke up on Friday…. Then nothing.” He gulped. “Not a fucking word since then. And now his phone is switched off.”

Alan breathed deeply, fighting the urge to lunge to his feet
right now
. “Okay, Pietro, think carefully. Do you know which club he was going to?”

Pietro nodded. “I think he said it was called the Lab.”

Alan’s heart sank like a stone. “Fuck.” All his worst fears were being realized. “That fucking little idiot.” He rarely swore, but right then the situation warranted it.

“I know that name.” Leo didn’t sound happy. “It’s a hard-core fetish club.”

Alan snorted. “Probably one of the most extreme clubs there is.” His mind was racing.
Dorian, why in hell were you going
there
?
Then he stopped himself. He knew
exactly
why.
Shit
.
This is not good
.

“You’ve been there?” Miles asked, his brow furrowed.

Alan nodded. “The guys in Berlin take their BDSM very seriously. Forget about safewords, contracts…. And there are some very hard-core players over there.” He finished his drink and rose to his feet. He couldn’t stay there, not while Dorian was God knew where—and probably in one hell of a mess.

“Where are you going?” Leo stopped him with a hand to his arm.

Alan gazed down at him. “To Berlin.”

“What—now?” Leo stared at him.

“That lad may have bitten off more than he can chew.” He shoved his chair under the table and grabbed his jacket from the back of it. “The Lab is open Thursday to Sunday. If I’m going to find him there, I need to go now.” He knew he was acting illogically, but he couldn’t help it. Some inner sense was telling him to go,
now
.

“You think he’s in trouble, don’t you?” Pietro was ashen.

Alan couldn’t give voice to his fears. Somehow that felt too much like tempting fate.

“If you’re serious about going there, then I’m coming with you. But it’s too late to find a flight for tonight.” Leo was on his feet. “Let’s go to the office, and I’ll book us onto the first flight out tomorrow morning.”

Alan stared at him, and Leo gave a grim smile.

“You think I’m going to just sit here? Besides, you need me.”

“I’m perfectly capable of doing this on my own. And I speak German.” Alan stood his ground, clenching his teeth.

Leo arched his eyebrows. “Well, that’s good, because mine’s nonexistent,” he said dryly. “My point is, if we start asking questions and people are reluctant to give answers, which of us could pass for Dorian’s father?” He stared resolutely at Alan. “I may only be four years older than you, but this makes me more of a likely candidate for the role, wouldn’t you say?” He pointed to the silver hair at his temples, which was spreading throughout his hair.

Alan liked Leo’s pragmatism. The man had a point. “Okay, let’s do this.” He peered at Pietro. “Do you know which hotel he is staying in?”

Pietro shook his head.

“I want to see every message you’ve had from Dorian since he left, all right?”

Pietro nodded immediately, his head bobbing.

Alan turned to Leo. “Let’s get those flights booked.”

He followed Leo to his office, his heart quaking. He clamped down on his fear and focused on the task in hand.
Anything
was preferable to the images in his head that were tormenting him.

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into, Dorian?

“W
E
’
LL
NEVER
find him in here,” Leo said, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

There had to be about four hundred men in the basement club. The beat pulsed through the floor and up through Alan’s feet, synchronized almost perfectly with his racing heartbeat. Leo had a point.

“Do you have those photos of Dorian?”

Leo nodded and handed him a printout. “It’s the only photo I had. It’s from his file, so it’s a little out of date.”

Alan unfolded the sheet and stared at the image. Dorian looked younger, his hair curly, his face fixed in an attractive smile. At eighteen Dorian looked relaxed, happy—nothing like the Dorian of recent months.
What changed you, baby?