6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hayden

I’d love to say that after a jerking off session in the cramped shower I’m feeling a lot like my usual self. But the truth is that the tingling hum within me doesn’t settle even a bit. I’m just as on edge as I was during Leander’s class, and the more I try not to think about him, the more my mind focuses on him.

Irritated, I fill a glass with cold water and lower myself on the worn-out couch with my laptop, so I can study and do homework. But I can’t concentrate, the letters and words not even registering no matter how many times I read the same paragraph.

Seeing as there is no point after a further hour of trying, I decide to clean my place. I don’t have many things, just some clothes, a bunch of chargers, and a couple other bits and pieces that I keep neatly organized in the smaller of my two suitcases. It’s not that I don’t want or like stuff, but it’s a pain in the ass accumulating it when I don’t have a place of my own. Every time I have to move, it makes it a logistical nightmare, so I’ve decided that everything I possess has to fit in my two suitcases and the duffle bag. When I make it big and become rich, I’ll have an entire room dedicated to random objects I wanted to buy at different stages of my life. I even keep a list, with number one being a limited-edition figurine of my favorite spaceship from my favorite book.

Just as I’ve stashed away my clothes and the clutter from my desk in the second suitcase so I can thoroughly clean my bedroom, the bell rings. I stare at the obnoxious cookie-shaped clock hanging above my door. It came with the lease and shows just past 11:45 pm.

I already ate—scrambled eggs with ham and jalape?os—so it’s definitely not takeout. It’s not my designated takeout day, and I would remember ordering it. Is it one of those promoters then? But they wouldn’t get past the grumpy old man at reception. They usually leave their leaflets with him.

“Who the fuck could it be?” I mutter to myself, clicking my tongue as I head for the door.

I’m in my ripped shorts and the faded dark blue tee with the holes, but I mean, it’s not like I was expecting anyone, so whoever is disturbing my very unproductive evening will have to deal with my hobo sense of fashion.

I unlock the chain and yank the door open. “Look, I’m not interested in whatever promotion you have. Mr. Grizby shouldn’t have let you up to begin with…” I trail off, gaping at the three very intimidating suited gentlemen who are staring at me with obvious impatience. “Uh, can I help you with something? I think you might have the wrong door…”

The one with the half-shaved head and the black wife beater crosses his massive arms over his chest. I’m not a small guy, but he’s a fucking giant. “Simon is looking for Gary. Tell him he needs to pay up.”

Gary? I blanch for a few heartbeats, my brain working overtime to comprehend what the fuck they want. Gary is my landlord. Okay . I guess they have business with him.

“Um, I don’t know who Simon is, but Gary doesn’t live here. I’m a tenant… Have you tried calling him?”

The scowl I get gives me the creeps. “He’s not picking up.”

Ye, well, I wouldn’t either if I had three scary men looking for me. But since I’m nothing if not helpful, I fish out my mobile and give my landlord a call, so I can get these douchebags as far away from me as possible. Color me surprised when he doesn’t pick up and I get the voicemail for disconnected service. Oh boy, this can’t get any better.

“Um, it seems like his phone might be off. But I’m sure that if you went to his place, he’ll be more than happy to get this thing with Simon resolved.”

They don’t like my answer. The half-shaved giant brushes past me into my apartment, his two companions following.

“Um, excuse me, you can’t just barge in like this…”

They look around the run-down interior, mouths curling in distaste.

“This should cover half his debt. Call Simon and tell him I’ll need some more time to track the thieving bastard down,” the giant grumbles, plopping into the old couch. It creaks like it’s dying under his bulk, making me cringe, and then I cringe again when the guy shifts his attention to me. “Get your stuff and scram.”

I want to argue. Punch him, too. But the moment I take a step toward him, the two other goons are onto me, shoving me out of the apartment. I crash into the peeling wall with a grunt, barely ducking out of the way as my first suitcase comes flying at me. The second follows, then my duffle bag, and then they close the door to my apartment right in my face.

I stare at it, panting and wide-eyed. Did I just get thrown out of my own place in the middle of the night?

I gawk at the door a bit more, my mind reeling.

What the actual fuck?

Once the shock passes, I call Nick. I’m sitting outside the building on the graffiti-infested bench. I’m not getting paid for another two weeks, so I can’t exactly afford a hotel.

“Shit. What the fuck, dude? Are you okay? I can’t believe someone just barged in and threw you out of your own apartment…” he says, sounding like he can’t believe what I’ve just told him.

Yes, I can’t believe it, too. But I’ve had enough time to analyze our short encounter, and I am glad that getting thrown out was all that happened. I’m pretty sure they were carrying guns. I considered calling the police, but I know better than to get dragged into gang business, as the officers are probably already bribed.

“Can I come over? I need somewhere to crash tonight, maybe for a few days until I figure something out,” I say, hating to ask. Nick is my friend, but this is embarrassing all the same. He knows my circumstances are shit and that money is really tight, but after my latest scuffle with Park, I guess I’m particularly sensitive to that.

I hear my friend groan on the other end. “Fuck, dude. I’m out of town! I was going to call you tomorrow. My grandpa finally kicked the bucket, so I’m flying to New York. The funeral is in two days.”

You gotta be shitting me. “I… Sorry for your loss.”

He snorts. “Bastard had it coming for a long time. I think everyone is relieved they won’t have to deal with his racist shit anymore.” Oh yeah, Nick’s mentioned it once or twice. I haven’t met his family, but I’ve spoken to his dad and got the impression he wasn’t particularly heartbroken that the old man got diagnosed with cancer. “Shit, though. My flight is in an hour. I don’t think you can make it on time to the airport, so I can give you the key.”

Yeah, that sounds impossible. “It’s fine, I’ll figure something out.”

I hear an announcer’s voice in the background. “Shit, they changed the Gate. Gotta go. Listen, give me a call in like four hours. If you haven’t found anything, I’ll make a few calls. One of the guys is bound to have a spare couch.”

I’d rather not. I’m not so close with the rest as I am with Nick. These are dire circumstances, yes, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out. I always do. “Okay, catch you later. Have a pleasant flight.”

An hour later, it turns out figuring something out is harder than I thought. It’s late and I don’t exactly have cash lying around for a hotel. Most of the affordable ones are either too far away or fully booked, which leaves me with no options. Even the shadier places are packed, and besides, I’m running out of battery.

Seeing as I’m not going to find a place anywhere, I head for the college library. Fortunately, it’s open 24/7 during the semester. It has everything I need, including showers and a lounge area where I can crash with a textbook over my face, so it doesn’t look like I’m actually crashing.

There aren’t many people around when I make it at just after 1:30 am. The security guard gives my luggage a look, but I pretend I don’t see it, beelining straight for the elevators. The least crowded lounge is on the underground level, and I’m pretty sure the showers are too, though I’ve never had a reason to look for them until now.

Turns out this section of the library is under construction, so the relaxation area has been shut off. I click my tongue. Not ideal. The one on the second floor is busier, but I don’t exactly have much choice. Since I’m here already, I decide to shower first and follow the signs through the cables and machinery-infested maze of corridors.

Which is how I get lost.

“Well, fuck me.”

I pause at an intersection of corridors. To the left is a dark hall with flickering lights. To the right is a dark hall with no lights. Straight ahead is a door with keycard-controlled entry. I peek left, shudder, then I peek right and shiver. I’ve watched enough horror movies to know that you don’t go to unlit places unless you are into ghosts, zombies, aliens, demons and the like.

Which leaves the door as my only option. I do remember passing one or two, but they were open, so I have no idea if this was one of them.

If it was, why is it closed now?

Great question. I guess another student closed it… Yeah, that sounds about right. Someone else who got kicked out of their apartment and needed somewhere to crash must also be roaming the creepy underground floor.

I produce my student ID and wave it, the scanner beeping in an error.

“Are you shitting me?”

Trying again results in the same. I stare at it, as if that would will it to work, but two more attempts later, I’m starting to really regret not paying attention to my surroundings. In a sudden bout of intellect, I try the door itself, pushing the heavy wood with my hand. It’s unlocked and opens.

A sigh of relief rips out of me. I’m convinced this is the way out as my eyes scan the doors lined up along both walls and notice the sign that reads stairs. Maybe I didn’t come this way or maybe I did, but in any case, I can get out of here without having to contact reception to explain that I got lost like the biggest idiot in the world.

Carding a hand through my hair to tuck it away from my forehead, I jog over to the door with the stairs sign and slip out.

Everyone has one of those days when it feels like the entire world is against them. Well, today is mine, because, the stairs? They only lead further down . Which is strange. Very strange. I wasn’t aware there was another sublevel… but then again, I don’t exactly follow what the college renovations are, so it could be that I simply missed that part.

Just as I am about to turn back and look for another way up, I hear a noise. My fingers freeze around the door handle and my ears perk up, trying to identify the source of the sound.

It’s voices. They are muffled, but they are definitely there, whispering in the eerie gloom like conspiring ghosts. Obviously, there is nothing ghostly about them; I bet they are other students or maybe staff.

I go over to the railing and pop my head out, squinting at the darkness below me. It’s not absolute, so I can see the outline of the stairs, which go only three floors down. At the very bottom, a bit of light interrupts the otherwise uniform blackness, sneaking under what must be a door that I can’t see from here.

Curiosity mixes in with the slight fear that’s coursing through me. Logically, I know that I am being silly—this is a library in the real world, not a horror movie scenario—but it’s one of those things that you just can’t help when you find yourself in a situation like this. It’s a natural response, an instinctual reflex, to the unknown. To being alone in a dark place in the middle of the night when everything is possible. And part of me finds that exciting.

I bite on my lip, giving my dick a stroke through my shorts. I blame Leander. His mysterious aura kind of had the same effect on me. I’m positive he unlocked something in me—or broke me—and my body’s been hot all day. He was so sexy earlier in his prim and proper teacher mode, those gem-like green eyes the most intense pair I’ve ever seen.

Just thinking about them as I head down the stairs makes me shiver in delight. I want to feel them roaming my naked body again, to have them look at me with single-minded focus. To smile at me and devour me.

My cock jerks, very onboard with the scenarios I am playing out in my mind. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I pause, focusing instead on the voices. They are still whispering, scratchy and hoarse as they hum words I can’t understand. Golden light seeps out into the stairwell from under an ancient-looking door with a metal ring for a handle. The frame is engraved with runes and swirly patterns that glow a soft red.

My heart gallops in my chest, goosebumps erupting all over my arms. This is freaky. Please don’t tell me there is some secret college cult and I just stumbled upon their secret meeting spot. I pull on my lip, cutting off a snort. I bet Park’s parents would be part of it along with all the other rich donors.

The voodoo-like humming intensifies, draining the smile off my face. It surrounds me like a living mist, its vaporous fingers dragging along my exposed skin. Oh boy, I should leg it. Whatever secret orgies are happening on the other side of that door, I want no part in them.

Except that, evidently, I do, as instead of going back the way I came and pretending I didn’t discover a potentially scandalous secret, I reach for the fancy door’s metal hoop handle thingy.

It’s heavy, just like the panting breaths leaving me. My fingers are clammy, and my knees feel a little weak. I’m shaking, both from excitement and fear. Sweat rolls down my face as my heart pounds in my ears and drowns out the strange humming. I ready my phone in video mode.

Shit. I’m doing this. Whatever is taking place on the other side is my golden ticket. I’m 99% sure. I’ve never done blackmail, but I’m a quick learner. I’ll get rich off this, I can practically taste the money. If whoever is in there wants their very secret secrets not to get out, they will have to pay me off. Depending on what I discover, I’m looking at anything from ten grand to a million.

Slowly and very gently, I pull on the metal handle. The door gives with a dying man’s croak that reverberates through me and freezes my blood. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit, did they hear me? There is no way they didn’t.

But the humming continues as if I didn’t just ring an industrial-grade alarm to announce my infiltration. I still, listening carefully for any interruption to the strange chanting. Yep, that’s what it is—chanting. Out of all the scenarios I pictured, demon summoning or human sacrifice or some weird animal masks orgy seems the likeliest now.

Oh, please be the orgy.

I linger for a couple more minutes at the door, not daring to move a muscle. Once my heart is not threatening to jump out of my chest, I push a little further, thanking the universe there are no more howling whale sounds. Then I slip inside.

I’m in a stone corridor with sconces. Like actual, medieval-looking sconces with burning fat candles in them. It’s creepy. But it also explains why chain-mail armored knights with rusty spears didn’t come charging at me. They didn’t actually hear me, because the secret meeting is happening somewhere at the other end of this dungeon-inspired hall.

Crouching my way forward despite my better judgment, I reach another staircase. The sane part of my brain insists that I should go back, but I’ve kind of committed by this point. Besides, this is definitely blackmail-worthy, whatever it might end up actually being.

Keeping to the wall, I get to the bottom of the stairs. The corridor bends to the left and right, going into what I assume is a circle around a central chamber. I see cuts in the stone of the outer wall at even intervals. My pulse spikes again. I flex my hands and then ball them into fists. These are glassless windows, I’m sure of it. I’ll be able to peek through them and see what is going on down there.

The fifteen or so feet to the closest hole take forever. I’m extra careful, throwing a look over my shoulder to make sure no one is sneaking up on me while I’m sneaking up on the orgy-enjoyers. The chanting voices are all around me now, breathy and hissy and low, with occasional moan-like pitches in timbre that go straight to my cock.

As a sex fantasy, it would totally work, I suppose. This setting. Being tied to a stone altar with pentagrams and candles around it while a certain green-eyed individual rearranged my insides in front of a bunch of cult minions.

I suppress a groan, palming myself so I can adjust my eager dick. Now is not the time to get a hard-on. I have a mission. I can jerk off afterwards when I’m back to the safety of the library’s upper floors.

Slowly, I pull myself up from my crouched position and peer at the vaulted chamber below. It’s massive. The walls are covered in those red glowing runes and so is the floor and there is an honest-to-god altar in the middle with something on it. Seven robbed forms surround it, each one with the hood up. They are humming that strange chant and waving gleaming sleek objects in the air. I think they are knives, but from up here it’s hard to say or get a good angle for a compromising video.

So I head down the sloping corridor.

Now, I know this is a bad idea. But I am also desperate. I have nowhere to live. I have no money. My hockey career is in danger. All my belongings are in the suitcases and duffle I left by the ancient door. Yes, I have my rockstar Plan B, but while I like music, it’s not hockey. The rink is my passion. I want to make it and prove to everyone and myself that I have what it takes even if life keeps throwing fucking mutant lemons at me.

I reach an archway opening. Preparing my phone, I approach it, the video rolling. My eyes go wide, my stomach twisting. The thing on the table is a person. A woman. She’s sprawled naked on top and her wrists and ankles have been cut. Blood is dripping in four ornamented buckets that are already two-thirds full.

Oh my god, I’m going to throw up. This really is some crazy sect.

But I can’t leave yet. I need at least one of the faces on video, or I can’t blackmail anyone. As if on cue, the figure by her left hand takes off their hood. It’s a woman with glowing green eyes that are almost the same as Leander’s, but lighter. She says something in a hissy staccato voice, baring her teeth that somehow look too long and too sharp.

Before my brain can comprehend that part, she bends down and sinks them in the bleeding woman’s wrist.

I gasp, my eyes wide and my heart lurching in my throat. Seven heads snap my way, pinning me with green eyes and snarling their sharp white teeth. Oh, fuck me . Of all the things I could run into it had to be a cult of crazies with prosthetic teeth that think they are vampires.

“Uh, sorry, don’t mind me,” I say, stepping backwards. “I, uh, was looking for the restrooms, but I must’ve gotten lost. I’m just going to…” I hook a finger over my shoulder. “Do continue, please. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I don’t wait to get a reply. I don’t wait to see what they might do. I bolt like my life depends on it, because at this moment, it very much feels that way. I have the video, and I caught all of their faces on it, so once I am not in danger of being the next meal for these psychopaths, I can figure out exactly what to do with the evidence.

Growling and snarling and hissing sounds behind me, spurring me faster. The shadows around me dance wildly on the stone walls and then swallow the corridor whole as a gust of icy wind howls past me and extinguishes all the candles.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

I run faster, taking the steps two-three at a time and praying I won’t trip. Okay, this was incredibly stupid of me. But I really thought it might be some orgy where the college director and his cronies wear piggy masks and fuck underage students.

An animal-like wail splits the air, the temperature dropping even further. I shiver and shudder, my hackles rising and my chest burning as I fight to keep breathing and run even faster. I see the metal door, a sigh of relief surging through me. It’s just the stairs left. Once I am back in the hall with the offices, I’ll ring the fire alarm. It will activate the emergency lights, which will guide me right out of that maze of corridors.

You got this, Hayden. Just a bit more.

I reach the door. Grabbing the edge, I propel myself forward with a boost of speed. And then I crash into someone.

Strong arms catch me before my brain has had the time to command my body to yank away, wrapping around my waist in a restraining embrace. I yelp and try to shove free, banging my fists against the firm chest of my captor. The hissing and the growling cease abruptly. My body goes rigid, cold sweat covering me from head to toe as I feel the seven lunatics spill out of the antique door. They surround me and my captor, their green eyes positively glowing as prickly icicles spread under my skin.

“You are late. And we have an intruder,” a woman with red hair snarls, clicking her teeth at me.

I try my best to shove my captor away, but he’s relentless, keeping me trapped with such ease I am reminded of the way I was manhandled last night at the worst possible moment. Leather and earth suddenly invade my nostrils, engulfing me in an all-consuming sensation that rips an obscene moan out of me. Hands slide down from my waist to my ass and I am pressed against my captor, his hard dick brushing against mine.

“Do we now?” he says in a voice like honey and silk. It reverberates through me and hijacks all my senses, lighting every nerve ending on fire.

I snap my head up and stare at his mesmerizing eyes, drowning in them almost immediately as that unmistakable emerald green of Leander’s devours me whole. His lips curve up on one side, revealing sharp canines just like those of the seven lunatics. He drags his tongue over them, the sensuality of the act so potent I forget my life is in danger. Because, fuuuuuck, I want that tongue in my mouth and across my body. If I’m going to die here, I can at least get another mind-blowing round of sex with him, right? I don’t mind if the crazies watch us either.

Leander leans in, dragging one hand up from my ass to my chin. It grabs me roughly, like I’m something he owns, and tilts my head to the side. His lips seal against mine and I groan as his tongue pushes past them. Yes, fuuuck, I need this. It feels so fucking right. His taste explodes in my mouth, and I am reduced to a moaning, gasping mess as he kisses me deep and dirty.

The world narrows down to us, to the way my body floods with desire and liquid fire. I roll my hips, I can’t help it, my arms coming around him so I can bring him even closer. I’ve been trying not to think about him all day, to resist the urge, not to give in, but he’s here now, taking that choice away from me as if he knows it’s exactly what I want.

My heart is still stuck in my throat when he ends the kiss, my cock solid and aching between us. Leander wipes the saliva from my lips and licks it, then brings his mouth to my ear.

Nipping the lobe gently, he whispers, “Now be a good boy for me, Hayden. It’s in your upmost interest and not just because of the reward I have in mind.”

Yes, fuck yes, I’ll be the goodest boy that ever bested.

I’m still in danger, I know that in some part of my brain. But Leander is here and promises everything will be fine if I do as he says. I believe him. I don’t know why, but I do. He clearly knows these people—hell, it looks like he might be into the same weird shit like them—so maybe he can convince them to let this little incident pass. I’ll even delete the video… from my phone, that is. The version that’s already in the cloud… Well, they don’t need to know about that.

I nod, or try to, but Leander’s hand slips between us and gives my rigid cock a squeeze, pulling out of me a whimpering groan.

“My apologies, Elders. I did tell him to wait for me. This one’s mine and a little rebellious.”

I shiver in delight at the proclamation. The way Leander’s hand kneads into my ass tells me he doesn’t miss it.

“Yours? I was not aware of such a development,” another woman—this one looking a little older, but still as beautiful as the red-haired one—hisses, baring her teeth at me.

Man, they really are taking their vampire cosplay way too seriously. These must’ve cost a fortune.

“Now you are,” Leander clips, authority dripping from his voice.

The group of weirdos hum and click tongues, making exasperated noises.

“Make sure this doesn’t happen again. Now can we get back to feeding?” a deep male voice says. “Introductions can wait until afterwards or the blood will go cold.”

Leander dips his head. “Certainly.”

A scoff comes from the right. “Make sure you aren’t late again. You know Claudius hates waiting.”

The moment the seven people go back into the creepy stone corridor, I seek out Leander’s eyes. “Um, can you maybe let me go? No offence, but your friends are real creeps. I promise I won’t say a word to anyone.”

Leander chuckles, studying my face. “You didn’t seem all that scared when I had my tongue in your mouth.”

I wrinkle my nose. “This and that are two different things.”

“Ah. So you weren’t aroused while sneaking where you shouldn’t even be?”

I blink at him, wide-eyed. I can deny it, obviously, but I’m more curious about what his response would be if I played along. Besides, I still have no idea what just went down, and thus no clue what to do or how to act so I don’t end up on that altar.

“How do you know that?”

The glow in his eyes intensifies, sending zapping sparks down my spine.

“And seriously, what’s with your cosplay? Fangs and glowing eyes? Really? What, do you guys identify as vampiresexuals or something?”

He hums, finally loosening his grip. But he doesn’t let go of me; his fingers are still wrapped around my wrist firmly. Smart. I’d have probably legged it otherwise.

“Well?” I urge, trying not to think about the fact that he’s herding me back toward that stone chamber and not up the stairs toward safety.

He snaps his fingers and the candles come to life. “Is that really what you think? That we are cosplaying as vampires?”

I frown. Of course I do. I mean, what else could it be? The woman with the bleeding wrists looked damn real, I’ll give them that, but for all I know, she’s a life-size doll and the blood was colored corn syrup.

“Nice trick, but motion sensors are a thing . Besides, what, are you suggesting vampires are real and you are one? That’s just ridiculous.”

He perches an eyebrow and picks me up. We are at one of the wall holes in a blur, the massive vaulted chamber opening up in front of me. The seven weirdos are back around the altar, their heads tipped up as they stare our way. An eighth one I didn’t notice before is leaning against a marble column, smoking a cigar. He’s also looking at us.

Leander steps into the opening. The drop is at least fifty feet. My blood freezes, my arms wrapping around his neck. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“You were not supposed to see this, Hayden. Humans are not meant to find this place.”

“ Humans ?”

He jumps. I scream, my life flashing in front of me. Fuck, I wish I’d eaten that chocolate cake. The one I promised myself I’d buy for my birthday. And ridden his cock. Yep, I definitely wish I’d fucked Leander at least once more.

I squeeze my eyes shut just as we are about to crash. But the pain and agony I expect don’t come, and instead, Leander lands with impossible grace. His body absorbs the impact and then just expels the force of it like it’s no biggie.

My jaw drops, my eyes snapping open. Yo, yo, yo. This can’t be happening. This makes no sense. My mind spins, confused and shocked and excited. But as the rest of Leander’s buddies aim glowing eyes my way, showcase sharp teeth and grow claws from their very human-like fingers, my reality is turned upside down.

“Um, Leander? Are you seriously telling me that vampires are… real ?” I say as he puts me down.

A raven flies in from somewhere, perching its majestic form on the armrest of a luxurious throne-like chair. It caws once, tilts its head to the side and pins me with pine-green eyes. I stare back blankly. It caws again like it’s laughing at me. Then it warps, its feathers elongating and its body turning into goo-like substance until I’m staring at a green-eyed lithe man my age draped over the chair sideways.

Holy fucking shit. I squeeze Leander’s arm, needing the solidity of his body to anchor me. He leans in, tracing my cheek with his lips. My back is plastered to his front and among the leather and soil, I somehow realize that I can’t detect a heartbeat from him.

I go completely and utterly still, my lungs burning and my head throbbing. Vampires are real. I can’t believe this. It’s crazy. Impossible. But I also can’t explain what I saw in any other way.

“You smell confused, Hayden, but so very good,” Leander mutters, trailing kisses along the curve of my jaw. “You weren’t supposed to discover this. No one is, without an invitation. But now that you have, I’m the only thing standing between you and that altar.” He smiles against my skin, grazing his teeth along a spot on my neck.

It feels so damn good. I lick my lips. “Are you going to bite me? Suck my blood?”

He hums. “Not without permission unless I planned to kill you,” he says and traces my jugular. “Now, stay here and keep quiet until I’m done. We’ll talk after.”

Leander’s hands suddenly disappear from my body, his presence following suit. A blur of movement crosses the room in one quick second, and then he reappears again, bent over the woman’s right wrist. His lips come in contact with her skin—setting off a thrill through me because the sensation of them against my neck still lingers in me—and then his fangs sink into her flesh.