“It’s open.” He called out as he stood and stretched again.
“Hey, man. Didn’t want you to oversleep. We’re meeting in C’s room in twenty. That okay?” Justin tilted his head as he studied his friend.
“I’ll be there. Thanks, Just.” Lance smiled at his friend, careful not to let his eyes linger too long.
The young man nodded and bounced out of the room. As he stood, he flipped on the television, clicking until he found a local news report. He watched the television screen, his eyes riveted to the news report of the fourth in a string of murders. The anchorwoman was equal parts perky and disgusted by the story.
“Police sources report the bodies have been drained of blood, adding credence to the theory that the victims are killed in one place with a slash to the throat then dropped elsewhere. The police refuse to speculate on what might have been done with the blood.”
“fuck.” He closed his eyes as anger simmered in him. They’re going to fuck everything up.
Knowing he would find out more later that evening, Lance turned off the television and scratched his belly. Rotating his neck, he reached for a short-sleeved white t-shirt and pulled it on, tucking it into the black jeans he drew up his legs. Shiny, black cowboy boots completed the outfit, and he ran a hand through his hair to create its untidy look. He slipped into JC’s room and seated himself in the corner to watch the activities around him.
JC was fluttering around, trying to pick out something cool to wear. Joey and Justin were watching Chris as he did an imitation of the DJ from their early-morning radio interview. Joey caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and his eyes opened wide in shock as he slapped a hand to his chest.
“Shit, Lance. Where the hell did you come from?”
Lance merely smiled. “You guys were paying attention to Chris. Guess that’s why you didn’t hear me.”
The other man nodded slowly, almost warily, then turned back as JC walked into the room and held open his arms.
“I am ready!”
Chris rolled his eyes. “ It took you fucking long enough, C. Let’s go. I hear this is the best club in the city.”
The five of them headed downstairs to the limo, surrounded by their security. As they sat back in the familiar comfort of the luxury car, Lance stared out the window into the night. The tinted glass hid nothing from his gaze, and as they drew close to the club, he could feel the ripples of electricity dance along his skin.
They made their way inside the packed club, bypassing the line of shrieking girls to melt into the pulsating darkness of Mirage. They were escorted to a table in the VIP section, nodding in appreciation of the fine leather booths and champagne-filled crystal that appeared in front of them.
“Holy shit. Now this is service.” Chris sipped the wine and looked at the waitress, who nodded towards the back of the room at a table set on a dais. “Compliments of Galen.”
“Galen?” JC twisted his head, trying to see through the maze of people and smoke.
“She’s the owner of the club.”
“Tell her thank you.” Chris smiled at the young woman.
The waitress turned and looked at Lance. He looked at her and murmured.
“Eu vim pagar meus respeitos. {I’ve come to pay my respects.}”
She nodded and slipped into the crowd. The rest of the guys finished off their glasses and allowed themselves to be pulled onto the dance floor by young women who miraculously appeared at their table. Once he was sure his friends were far enough away, he stood and made his way to the dais. The crowd parted before him, as if sensing his power. When he reached her table, he paused and waited for her to acknowledge him.
She looked up from her glass and smiled. In that moment, he was transported back to a time he had long since forgotten. She blinked, and he was released from the memory. Bowing slightly, he straightened and held out the package he withdrew from his back pocket.
“I thank you for entrance into your city.”
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Bass. Please have a seat.”
“Lance, please.”
He joined her at the table as she unwrapped the box. Opening it, she pulled out the dagger and brushed her thumb across the edge.
“It is quite beautiful. Thank you for the tribute.”
Lance grinned faintly before looking back at the dance floor to find his friends. He felt her question brush against his mind.
“They know nothing.” He looked back at her, his eyes gleaming a luminous green.
“Is that not dangerous?” She tilted her head and studied him, the blue of her eyes gleaming silver in the flashing lights of the club.
He shrugged in response, still having no answer to the question that had been asked so many times.
“Would you care to dance?” She whispered the words against his ear.
He nodded and held out his hand to escort her to the floor. Again, the crowds parted, but it was their combined power that separated the masses before them. The music changed when they stepped onto the floor, a heavy, sensual beat thundering from the speakers.
Lance drew Galen into his arms and let the music flood his soul. Instinctively, he pulled her close so that her hips were snug against his, and he danced her across the floor. They moved as if they were one, their path taking them through the dancers. His friends, when they noticed, gaped in surprise at their normally reserved friend gliding across the floor as if floating on air.
Eventually, the crowd moved back to the edges of the floor, giving the couple plenty of room to move. They filled the entire area with impossibly arched dips and lush hip sways, their feet weaving a pattern that was so intricate, people were amazed.
To them, it was as natural as breathing. Returning to the old ways, if even only briefly, was like a cool drink of water on a hot summer day. Their mouths never moved, but their eyes spoke to each other as they glided around the room.
When the others returned to their table, they found Lance and Galen deeply involved in conversation. Chris knew it wasn’t good by the furrowed look on his friend’s brow.
“Hey, man, lookin’ good out there. Where’d you learn that shit?” He clapped a hand on the other man’s shoulder as he sank into the booth.
“Europe.” A succinct answer that jived nicely with their early days of touring the old world. The slightly lyrical tone made them accept the answer and not ask for more.
Joey heard an undercurrent in Lance’s voice, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pursue it at that moment. There was something about Lance; almost as if he turned his head quickly enough he would see something.
Maybe it’s just one beer too many. He tilted his head back and let the cool amber liquid slide down his throat.
A man approached their table, bowing slightly towards Galen. When he caught a glimpse of Lance, he almost dropped to one knee but refrained.
“Eu desculpo-me, meu príncipe. Eu não estava ciente de sua presença na cidade. {I apologize, my Prince. I was not aware of your presence in the city.}”
By this time, the other four men were staring openly at the exchange.
“É compreensível, William. Por favor, não o deixe preocupá-lo mais mais. {It is understandable, William. Please, do not let it worry you further.}”
The man nodded with a slight bow before whispering in Galen’s ear. She nodded, and he melted into the crowd. She turned and arched an eyebrow at the man beside her.
“Um príncipe? Você não mencionou aquele quando você pediu a entrada em minha cidade. {A prince? You failed to mention that when you requested entrance into my city.}”
He reached out and gently grasped her hand, pulling it to his lips. Caressing her knuckles softly with his lips, he formulated his response.
“Eu desculpo-me pelo não dizendo o todos da verdade. Eu sai meus anos home há, apenas alguns recordam ainda. {I apologize for not telling you all of the truth. I left my home years ago, just a few still remember.}”
“Eu duvido aquele, Lance. {I doubt that, Lance.}”
Chris opened his mouth about the language, but another look from Lance silenced him, and he forgot his question moments later as another beautiful girl tugged him onto the dance floor. JC, Justin, and Joey were quick to follow, allowing the couple to finish their conversation.
“Has anything been done about it? These children are going to ruin everything.” Lance sipped the brandy, sighing as the warm liquid rolled down his throat.
“The elders are working on it. The young ones are being rounded up as we speak, and they will be informed of their choices. They cannot continue to recklessly endanger us. I think it might require a demonstration, though.” Galen nodded grimly. “Will you stand with us, Lance?”
“I will stand with you.” He tapped the edge of his glass to hers before they both took a sip.
For the most part, Lance didn’t bother with tribute. He rarely found himself in one spot long enough, but staying in Denver for three weeks required an offering to Galen to ensure continued acceptance. He didn’t think the rest of the group would understand if he had to leave because of hidden politics in a world they didn’t know existed.
As a result of the long stay, he started spending more time at Galen’s club, relaxing among his own kind and welcoming the chance for easy access to willing bodies. The excitement of the hunt wasn’t there, but it was still nice. At the end of their first week, he realized he had been neglecting his band mates and agreed to go out with Justin to a little bar not far from the hotel for a game of pool and beer.
They snuck out of the hotel, certain they wouldn’t be overrun by fans in a dark bar lit by neon beer signs. They waited for an empty table and shot a few games of pool, ordering beers from the waitress who seemed to spend a lot of time hanging around them.
This little fact didn’t sit well with four large men in the corner, who felt that the woman was their own personal slave. They ignored the men as much as they could, Lance holding Justin back when they called out various insults. The waitress made things worse when she told the men she thought Justin and Lance were more men that they were. The bartender stopped the potential fight with a wave of his bat.
At that point, Lance paid their tab and pushed Justin out the door of the bar before any more words could be exchanged. He knew his friend would just as soon take a swing as walk, and he didn’t relish having to do anything in such a public place. They ambled along the street, but Lance heard the footsteps and the muttering as the four men exited the bar and saw them in the distance. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, he could easily make out the thundering rage on the face of the ringleader.
“Fuck.”
“What?” Justin looked over with concern, seeing Lance glance over his shoulder.
He turned slightly and saw the men approaching at a steady pace. The pair had turned down an alley as a shortcut, and they couldn’t go back the way they came without running into the four men. They quickened their pace, hearing the voices of the group following them grow louder.
“When I give the word, run.”
“No, Lance. I’m not leaving. You can’t hold them off by yourself.” Justin moved quickly, but knew they wouldn’t be able to lose the four large men who had followed them from the bar.
“Justin.” There was a strangely musical quality to Lance’s voice.
Justin felt himself preparing to run, even as his brain fought it.
“Run.”
His feet took off, and he sprinted away. He could hear the four men pounding after them, the loud thumps of their boots on the concrete slamming into his ears. He skidded around a corner and realized he couldn’t hear them anymore. Shaking off the tingly effects of his run, he peered around the corner and gaped in astonishment.
Three of the men were lying on the ground, either unconscious or moaning in pain. The fourth…the fourth man freaked him out the most. The same towering thug that had called him a fag was held in the air, his feet dangling helplessly as he clawed at his neck. Lance had one hand wrapped around his throat as he held him. Then, as the man mewled in terror, he was lowered until the blond could angle his head towards the vulnerable neck. Justin watched for a moment, his eyes seeing but his brain not processing. When Lance raised his head, a trickle of blood escaped his lips, and Justin let out a strangled gasp.
The older man turned quickly, catching sight of his friend as his tongue slowly licked away the crimson droplets. Justin took one look at the glowing eyes and promptly ran for his life. He caught the first cab he could find, directing the driver into the hotel garage. He tossed a couple of bills at the man before pushing open the door and stumbling towards the service elevator. He made it upstairs, mumbling something to the guard on their floor before quickly disappearing into his room. He latched the deadbolt and stared at the door then dragged a chair over and tucked it under the doorknob. Grabbing a pillow, he huddled in a corner between the bed and dresser and tried to forget what he had seen.
Resting his head on his pillow, he rocked back and forth slightly. When the hand rested gently on his head, he leaned into the touch before he recognized it. Leaning back quickly, he stared up in fear.
“Please, please don’t hurt me. I won’t say a thing. I promise. I’ll forget.”
Lance settled on the floor in front of his friend and sighed. Justin looked at him then looked around.
“How did you get in here?”
“Balcony.”
Justin’s brow furrowed. “But, we aren’t connected or anything. How did you…”
His eyes opened wide as his thoughts began to tumble together.
“You’re going to drink my blood, aren’t you?”
“If I was going to do that, I’d have done it before now.” Lance grinned shyly, still looking like the awkward schoolboy who had joined the group six years ago.
“Then, what?” Justin sighed as he rested against the wall.
“That’s something we have to talk about. Wanna move to the bed? This could take a while.”
The younger man nodded before crawling over to the bed and climbing on it. He wasn’t as scared anymore, the memory fading slightly as he spent more time around his friend.
“What are you?” Justin bit his lip, not really sure if he wanted to know the answer.
“What do you think I am?”
Staring at Lance, he closed his eyes as he whispered. “a vampire?”
“That’s one word for it. There are so many words, in so many different languages.”
“How old are you?” Justin looked over at the other man, seeing the youthful face and clear eyes. As he looked, he realized Lance had not changed in all the years he had known him, other than his hair.
“Old.”
“Like, how old?”
Lance leaned back against the headboard, readjusting the pillow behind his back. “Let’s see. On my last birthday, I was 322.”
Justin’s mouth opened impossibly wide, his eyes bulging in surprise. “Oh my God.”
Lance couldn’t help laughing. Once his chuckles stopped, he continued with his story. “I was born in Portugal, the son of a nobleman, and I was raised with the knowledge I would take that title when I reached the proper age. Not long after my 18th birthday, my father passed away, and the estate became mine. Not to brag, but it flourished. I worked the fields with my people, and because they understood that I loved the land as much as they did, my estate grew quickly. When I turned 20, I married a beautiful young woman named Therese. She gave me two sons, then died from the fever that swept through the villages. Franco and Marco were such happy babies. I loved them fiercely, and we spent many an hour out among the fields.”
Justin was enthralled, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he listened to Lance’s voice slip from the smoothness of a drawl into the soft lilt of his native tongue.
“When I turned 22, my life changed unbelievably when I met a noblewoman from France. She embraced me, and it took a long time for me to accept it. At first, it seemed rather astonishing that I would never die. Then, I began to realize that I would see my children wither away into dust while I stayed forever young.”
His voice saddened, a barren quality entering it as he spoke about his children. Justin reached out and touched his hand for a moment.
“What happened then, Lance?”
“I stayed as long as I could, then left before questions would be asked. If the people found out what I was, they would have cut off my head, burned me at the stake, then purified my ashes with salt. My family’s lands would have been forfeit, and my children…” Lance paused for a moment. “My children would have been stoned and buried in an unmarked grave. My mother knew what I was, and she and my younger brother took care of the boys when I ‘died’.”
“did you ever see them again?” Justin whispered the words.
“I would come see them from time to time, and my mother wrote long letters to make sure I received all the latest news. When they married, I hovered in the background. When their children were born, I crept into the nurseries and kissed their foreheads, giving them my blessing. And when my sons lay on their deathbeds, I sat with them. They thought they were dreaming, and it eased my heart a bit.”
“What about Diane and Jim and Stacey?”
“Actually, Diane is a descendant of mine. From every generation, I’ve shared my secret with a member of my family. Only a few have known, so it doesn’t make things difficult.”
Justin nodded, rocking back and forth on his butt as he bit his lip and thought about things. “Why did you join up?”
“I love to sing, and it was good to be young again. Besides, what better job than doing concerts at night?” Lance smiled, his eyes glittering softly in the duskiness of the room.
“So what happens now? I mean, can you let me live, knowing what I know?” The younger man looked up.
“Can I trust you with this, Justin? There aren’t many people who would believe you if you told, but it would raise questions that I…we…are not prepared to answer. I’d rather not wipe your mind if I don’t have to.”
“Wipe…my mind?” He looked a little frightened at the thought.
“It would take your memories from tonight, but it would leave you feeling just the slightest bit off.” Lance laid back on the bed, tucking his hands beneath his head.
“No.” The reply was soft. When he repeated it, the answer was stronger. “No, I don’t want my memories wiped. And you’re not going to suck all my blood?”
Lance’s chest rumbled with laughter. “No, Justin. I feed without killing. It’s not necessary to take life in order to survive. That is a legend that has been perpetuated by books and movies, much to our advantage, I think.”
“Okay.” Justin stretched out beside the other man, his eyes closing as his mind drifted.
When Lance heard the slowing of Justin’s heart into sleep, he rolled over and stared at the young man. Sighing again, he wondered how long he had before he would have to leave again.
Table of Contents
Prologue