Blair couldn’t remember ever being so cold in his life. He shivered violently, his neck muscles feeling like iron, they were so tight against the cold. The cold was second only to the darkness that surrounded him in keeping him in a constant state of fear. He had no idea how long he’d been in the windowless, tiny room that was more a closet than anything else. There was enough room for him to curl up in a ball and sleep, and he could stand without hitting his head on the ceiling, but that was about it. The cold kept him sitting in the corner with his arms wrapped around his knees, trying to conserve what body heat he had.
Then there were the hunger pangs. Painful and intense, it ripped through Blair in waves that left him dizzy with need. It was the other reason he remained seated, because he’d been standing once when it hit and his knees had buckled. His throat felt so parched it aches and it seemed like he had absolutely no saliva. The few times he’d tried to shout for help, his voice had been a croak without any volume and the effort had left him in actual pain.
The worst thing about the situation was his lack of memory. Blair knew himself. He knew who he was and what his life entailed, but something big was missing. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten locked in a closet or who he’d last spoken with. When he tried to bring up his last memory, it flit away like a butterfly always just out of reach.
A wave of nausea hit and Blair
groaned, tightening his grip on himself to try and ride it out. He was so engrossed
in the physical that he didn’t hear anyone approach. The door just opened
without warning and he fell backwards into another room. Raising his arm over
his eyes to shield them from the light, he looked up to find a young man about
his own age standing over him.
Blair shivered again as he slowly pushed onto his hands and knees. He took a few seconds to gather what little strength he had before kneeling back, looking up at the other.
“Are you ready to stop being a child?” the man asked reasonably. “I bring you a wonderful dinner and you turn your nose up at her.”
Blair’s eyebrows rose and he managed to rasp, “Her?”
The young man nodded to the side and Blair glanced that way to find a woman bound and gagged, unconscious, stretched out a short distance away.
The man continued, “I know you’ve got to be hungry by now. I remember the birth pangs, the need for the first feeding. It was only twenty years ago I was turned, after all. Once you drain her, everything will be all right. You’ll be warm and comfortable and your senses will explode and the world will be yours for the taking.”
Horrified, Blair realized the man meant for him to kill the woman and drink her blood. Shaking his head, Blair said hoarsely, “You’re crazy!”
Blue eyes flashed orange and
Blair scrambled back clumsily as the other grabbed for him, but couldn’t evade
the hand that snared his shirt and hauled him in close. Too close. Blair
smelled the rank breath that reminded him of a mass grave he’d had the
misfortune to witness on his lone trip to
“You’re mine now,” the man hissed, true madness in his eyes. “I turned you. I took you from that life where none appreciated you. No one’s going to find you, because no one cares enough to look. Even if they did, no one knows where to look. I have all the time in the world and you don’t. The bloodlust will come and then, then you’ll truly be mine.”
The man shoved Blair back in the closet and the door shut on him again, enclosing him once more in darkness. Knowing it would be futile to try and shout for help again, he crawled to the other side of the tiny room and pulled his knees in close again. Blair wrapped his arms around his legs and rocked slowly back and forth, praying with every part of himself that Jim didn’t find him.
Because now that he knew what the hunger and cold meant, Blair didn’t want to be found.
* * * *
Simon fondly remembered the years of his life where the most exciting thing that happened was a drug shoot out or gang war. Not Sentinels. Not God damned vampires. He thought longingly of the times when the creep-factor stayed in horror films, Steven King books, and Halloween. Watching Jim and Larabee glare at each other from across the room was about the last thing he wanted to spend his time doing. And the thought of Blair in the hands of some blood-sucking monster sent his stomach up to meet his throat.
Sternly quelling his nausea, Simon finally ordered, “Come on, Jim, we need to get a move on finding Blair.”
Jim stalked across the room to where Simon stood at the door. When he got there, he said to Larabee, “If you were ever any kind of man, you would help us find my partner and put this monster down,” and strode passed Simon.
Simon saw that hit home in the flexing of Larabee’s jaw and the way the…vampire...clenched his fists. Following his friend out of the room, he found Jim bent over at the waist, breathing as though he might start hyperventilating. He rushed to the other man and gripped his shoulders, pushing him at the nearest set of chairs.
“Simon, oh God, Simon, it’s Blair!” Jim gasped, raising horrified eyes to him.
Freaky Sentinel shit, Simon silently bemoaned. “What about him?”
Jim groaned, sounding like nothing so much as a wounded animal, his arms wrapping around his waist.
Alarmed, Simon demanded, “What’s happening? Damn it, Jim, talk to me!”
Instead of answering, though, Jim’s hands went over his head and…he started crying…huge, wracking sobs as though they might tear him apart.
Shock rendered Simon immobile for several seconds before he called out harshly, “I need a doctor here! Someone help us!”
A woman rushed over and asked, “What happened?”
Feeling his armchair diagnosis wouldn’t be too far off the mark, Simon answered, “He’s having some kind of emotional breakdown. Do you have a sedative or something?”
She nodded and ran off again.
Sitting beside Jim, Simon put an arm around the broad shoulders and opened his mouth to say something, anything, only to get shoved violently away. He landed hard on the floor, wind knocked from his gut, and could only watch as Jim shouted in what sounded like pure fury and ran down the hall towards the exit sign. By the time he managed to sit up and start to crawl to his feet, Jim was long gone.
Simon sucked in a ragged breath and sat heavily. Rubbing a hand over his head, he sighed, “Fucking Sentinel shit.”
* * * *
One second Jim was pissed at Larabee and trying to think of what the next step should be and the next, he felt Blair’s despair and need as viscerally as if he lived the emotions himself. It had punched through him like a blow to the gut and he’d literally been bent over with it. And then, somehow, there’d been such a wave of bloodlust and violence that he’d known down to his core Blair was killing someone, draining them of their blood.
Everything good and true and innocent in his partner dissolved in that moment and left Jim an emotional wreck as though he’d lost it all himself. He then turned to the one thing that had gotten him through the worst moments of his life; rage. It fueled him, forcing the debilitating emotions back under lock and key and let him maintain that fragile thread to his partner.
Taking the stairs two and three at a time, Jim was out of the hospital and running through the rain without even feeling it. His legs ate up the distance and his body automatically paced itself, He thought about nothing except finding the bastard who’d taken his partner and turned him into a murderer; finding and killing that man was the only thing on his mind. It consumed him, banishing thought so that he was nothing more than an animal on the hunt. He had the scent now, even if it wasn’t in the air. Jim would track back the mental thread until he could pull the fucker apart, limb from bloody limb.
He reached an apartment building on the richer side of Cascade and held enough of himself to pull his badge out on the startled doorman before barging passed him. Drawing a deep breath gave him Blair’s actual scent and he followed it to the elevator, where he snarled at the people waiting. They blanched and stepped away as he walked inside. He pressed every button and leaned in close to the door, scenting each time the doors opened.
Jim got out on the fourteenth floor and stalked down the hall, not remembering when he pulled his gun out but knowing the safety was off. Regular bullets might not kill the fucker, but they would sure as hell hurt a lot and he aimed to make this encounter as painful as possible. Stopping abruptly at one of the apartments, Jim breathed in deep and knew Blair was inside.
The door was locked, no surprise there, so he simply backed up and kicked it down, rushing inside and sighting first right and then left. The first thing he saw was a woman near a wall, bound and gagged and unconscious, but not seemingly hurt otherwise. Stepping passed her, Jim moved further into the apartment and found the ravaged body of a young man, throat torn out and but no blood anywhere, just the bits of gore from muscle and cartilage.
“Jim.”
It was just the faintest whisper, but he heard it and turned, gun coming up to lock onto Blair’s heart. Blood still stained his partner’s chin and throat and hands. An orange glow lit the otherwise achingly familiar blue eyes. Everything in him screamed to get out and away, that his best friend was gone, everything but his heart. He literally could not move as Blair slowly walked forward.
Blair’s hand gripped his gun hand, sticky with blood, but didn’t try to push it away. Instead, he simply walked by it until he stood right in front of Jim, looking up at him, hypnotic and revolting all at once. The copper tang of blood filled his nose. And then Blair reached up with his free hand and pulled Jim down, filling his mouth with the taste of copper, too.
Their first kiss and Jim didn’t even care if he survived it. He groaned in awful need and wrapped his arms around Blair’s waist to haul him in tight, savagely kissing back.
And then… “Step away from him, Detective.”
Growling deep in his chest, Jim spun towards Larabee, moving in front of Blair. The newcomer held a gun and had it aimed at them or, more probably, at Blair.
“This isn’t your partner anymore,” Larabee continued. “He’s taken by the bloodlust and will feed on you.”
Blair spoke up clearly with, “I won’t.”
Surprise lit over the other man’s face, but it mingled almost instantly with suspicion. “Step out and let me see your face.”
Jim shook his head and held his arms out to keep Blair behind him.
Blair rubbed Jim’s back and just moved around him. Cocking his head at the other vampire, he asked, “You’re going to kill me for killing the one who turned me into this against my will? That doesn’t seem fair.”
In a calm tone, Larabee stated, “You’re going to kill again, you won’t be able to help yourself. You need blood now and then you need to sleep and then you’ll need more blood. The only way you’ll be able to do that without someone to bond to, is to kill.”
Jim rested his hands on Blair’s shoulders and countered, “We’ll get him blood. We’ll steal it if we have to, but he won’t have to kill.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Larabee told them.
Blair asked, “So how does it work?”
For a few seconds, the other man didn’t respond. He seemed to take them in, gaze sharp and sweeping all at once. And then he asked, “Did you drain him?”
Blair nodded.
Larabee thought for another minute before saying slowly, “If you drained him, the bloodlust will be settled for a while. It might not be as bad as it could. All right, this is what we’re going to do. We’re all three of us going back to your apartment and I’m going to watch you two bond. If I think you’re going to kill Ellison, I’ll step in and put you down.”
Jim bristled at that and would have cursed him out for that, but Blair turned to face him, taking Jim’s hand in his. Gazing up at him, Blair murmured, “I want this, Jim. I want to be with you forever, but you have to want it too.”
“You’re not Turning him,” Larabee cut in sharply.
Ignoring him, Jim used their joined hands to pull Blair in tight again, winding his other arm around his partner’s shoulders. Burying his face against the curls matted with blood, Jim said simply, “I can’t live without you,” knowing it to be true even though he hadn’t before speaking the words.
Larabee insisted, “You’re not Turning him! Not today, because you don’t have enough blood for the both of you.”
Jim pulled back only far enough to seal his and Blair’s vows with a kiss.
“God damn it,” Larabee muttered.
They both ignored him.
* * * *
Buck stroked a hand over JD’s soft, thick hair, smiling down at the sleeping boy, half on his lap. Even after more than a century, he was still as needy for comfort and touching as he’d been at the start. Something that Buck wouldn’t dream of complaining about, since it filled a need of his own to comfort and touch.
Ezra though…Ezra had taken to his affection with ill-grace at first, prickly and constantly pissy, seeming to allow it only because of the bond between them. The gambler had finally given in, and with surprising ease, but not until they’d gotten past his fortified defenses. Buck and JD had discovered a carefully guarded and well hidden need to be outright coddled. Knowing what he did now, Buck understood it came from having a mother who hadn’t been much of one at all.
JD stirred and yawned, rolling onto his back to smile sleepily up at Buck. “How much longer ‘til we get there?”
Buck glanced at his watch and answered, “Round about another fifteen minutes. Ezra just contacted Cascade National a few minutes ago. I was just about to wake you.”
Bending down, he took JD’s mouth in a slow kiss, which his lover smiled into, raising a hand to slide fingers into Buck’s hair. They lingered at it, but with no intent to do more than just connect. When Buck sat up again, he grinned at the sleepy, contented expression on JD’s face and observed, “You look like a cat in the sun on a spring day.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” JD replied, snickering as he sat up. “I gotta take a leak. Be right back.”
Buck watched him head to the small head on the private jet and then looked out the window. It was night now, even on the West Coast, and he was worried about what they would find on landing. Chris had sounded hard on the phone; hard in a way he hadn’t been for going on a century. Vin had climbed inside the cowboy’s heart but good, soothing away the rough edges and bitter sharpness with his gentle smile and soft words.
God help us all if he dies before Chris Turns him, Buck thought tiredly.
“Time to buckle up, gentlemen,” Ezra’s voice echoed back at them. “We’ll be descending in ten minutes.”
JD came out of the bathroom a few minutes later and sat back beside Buck, asking, “So, what happens if Chris Turns Vin and it don’t take?”
Something that Buck didn’t want to even think about. If Vin went mad with the transformation… He shook his head and said, “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.”
That didn’t ease the worry from JD’s face, but he dropped the subject. He took Buck’s bigger hand in his and laced their fingers together, falling silent for the rest of the flight. The landing was smooth, as it always was when Ezra flew, and they were on the tarmac of the private area of the airport five minutes after landing, bags in hand.
Ezra led the way, taking care of paperwork while JD leaned on Buck, still half-asleep. Ignoring the looks some people in the First Class area gave them, he nuzzled at the younger man’s ear and murmured, “You’d think you’d been ridden hard and put away wet, or something.”
JD chuckled, a soft, merry sound. “I’m recovering from the force of your personality.”
“He needs more iron and fluids,” Ezra announced somewhat acidly as he rejoined them. “You took too much from him last time.”
Frowning, Buck straightened and really looked at JD. He didn’t seem pale or shaky, just sleepy.
JD glared at Ezra and snapped, “Mind your own blood. I’m fine, thanks.”
Rolling his eyes, Ezra told Buck, “The damn fool actually donated blood the day before last.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Buck snapped at them both.
Ezra shrugged. “I found out just before the trip. One of his jerseys that I packed had the little sticker on it. And as I certainly did not wish to listen to you complain the entire flight over about being unable to redress the situation right away.”
JD struggled to get free, but Buck didn’t let go. When he finally quieted, Buck told him softly, “You are in so much trouble right now, you don’t even know, boy. But you will once we sort out Chris and Vin. Your ass won’t be able to sit for a week and you best believe me on that score.”
Swallowing audibly, JD whispered, “I do.”
Releasing him, Buck said in a more normal tone, “Good. Now let’s get out of here.”
The taxi took them directly to Cascade General and they found cops outside Vin’s door. Lips pursed, he headed back to the nurses’ station and smiled at the pretty girl on duty. “Hi there. Can you call in to whoever’s in charge of Vin Tanner’s security? We’re his friends and would sure like to see him, but I think the police might object without warning.”
She smiled back at him and agreed, “That would be Captain Banks. I’ll just get him for you.”
“Thanks, darlin,’” Buck said with a wink, pushing off the counter.
They didn’t have to wait long. A big, black man with glasses showed up not two minutes later, trailed by a good looking young man with nice eyes.
The black man introduced, “I’m Captain Banks.”
Buck held out a hand and replied, “Buck Wilmington. This is JD Dunne and Ezra Standish. We’re friends of Vin. Chris Larabee called to say he’d been hurt pretty bad and we’d like to stay with him.”
Banks glared at him and asked in a quiet tone, “Are all of you breathing, or do I need to worry about the local blood bank?”
Buck was surprised both by the fact that Banks knew what they were, or what they could be at least, and that he wasn’t shooting them on sight. Not that it would do any good unless he got dead center in the heart or had an axe hidden somewhere. He finally answered, “Does it matter? We’re here to help.”
Giving him a sour look, Banks said, “I guess it doesn’t matter. Your buddy Larabee disappeared about an hour ago, shortly after my detective, my other detective, went missing. I haven’t heard from either one of them. You mind trying Larabee?”
Buck pulled out his cell and hit Chris’ number.
“Now’s not a good time, Bucklin,” Chris answered tersely.
A moan of pure pleasure echoed through the phone and he straightened in surprise, listening closer. Sure enough, he heard the sound of skin on skin, which told him all he really needed to know, but he asked anyhow, “Chris, what’re you doing?”
“Damn fool killed his sire,” Chris explained. “He needed someone to bond to.”
Buck groaned. “What about Vin?”
Chris’ breath caught and he replied, “I can’t do anything about Vin until they know how much brain damage there is, but I can save this one. I have to save him, Buck.”
Sighing, Buck agreed, “I guess you do, at that. Okay, I’ll keep an eye on Vin for you. Call with any changes.”
“Thanks, Buck.”
When the line went dead, he looked at Banks with a wry grin and said, “Your detectives are no longer missing, Captain, but I wouldn’t go interruptin’ any time soon. They’ll be back, right as rain, probably tomorrow or the next day.”
Banks opened his mouth and then it snapped closed again. As he walked away, Buck heard the man mutter, “God damned Sentinel shit. Now I got vampire shit to deal with for real. I need a damn vacation.”
Grinning a bit, wondering what the story was behind that, he turned to JD and Ezra and motioned them towards Vin’s room. He sobered at the thought of Vin hurt and helpless, putting a hand on both his boys’ shoulders as they went into the room.
JD gasped at the sight of Vin hooked up to machines that were breathing for him, all bandaged up and looking as bad as he ever had. The youngest of them rushed over to the bed and then just stopped, clearly not knowing where he could touch to convey support to their unconscious friend.
Buck pulled a chair over to the bed and sat in it, then tugged the smaller man onto his lap and said, “Talk to him, JD. Let him know we’re here.”
Ezra made to leave, but Buck caught his hand and tugged him in close, wrapping an arm around his waist. For a few seconds the gambler sat stiffly on the edge of the chair, but then relaxed and put an arm over Buck’s shoulders.
Buck rested his chin on JD’s shoulder and listened as he talked quietly to their friend. It was going to be a long few days, there was no doubt about it.