Chapter 14

Anthony

F reddie had gone berserk. Anthony hadn't seen Brian coming, hadn't understood how he'd moved that fast, but his hand had been around Anthony's throat, cutting off his airway. He hadn't been able to force his desperate calls to Freddie past Brian's tight grip. All he'd been able to get out was a pathetic whine.

He had been sure Brian was going to kill him, and he'd thought, silly as it was, that he was glad he'd gotten to give Freddie a blowjob before he died.

But before Brian could tear his throat out, Freddie had exploded.

Anthony missed most of it. Freddie had moved at an impossible speed, a blur in the air as he sprang from attacker to attacker. In the space of a second, they were all down, and Brian's grip fell loose from his throat.

The blur came to an abrupt stop in front of him. Freddie was changed. His eyes shone the red of sunset, and his fingers were long talons. Sharp fangs peeked out from behind his upper lip. Brian's head was in his hands.

"What the fuck just happened?" Anthony stood staring at the carnage.

Freddie looked up at him. Confusion flashed across his face, then fear. He tore his gaze away from Anthony, his eyeballs darting around, looking anywhere else. What was happening? Was Freddie afraid… of him ?

"Anthony, I…" Freddie's hands went limp and the bald, decapitated head tumbled down to the dirt below.

"What are these people? What are you ?" Anthony looked around at the carnage, the bile rising in his stomach. Everywhere he looked, blood gushed from deep wounds, and bodies were surrounded by mangled organs and viscera. "You killed them, Freddie. You killed all of them."

Freddie took a step, and Anthony stumbled backwards away from the blood-covered bodyguard. His brain couldn't process what he was seeing. Anthony's chest clenched at the look of anguish on Freddie's face.

"Anthony, you have to…" Freddie's voice trailed off as he shook like he was in the grip of a terrible fever. He collapsed down to his knees.

Anthony's throat tightened at the unusual sight of weakness in the strong, stoic man. His shock and fear evaporated, and he ran forward to Freddie's side, crouching down next to him and steadying him.

"Freddie, what is going on? What do you need?"

"Call your uncle…tell him about them …tell him…the crimson surge…" Freddie stopped, unable to say more, and leaned against Anthony for support.

Anthony scrambled to find his phone, pulling it out of his pocket and dialing his uncle.

"Tony?" his uncle asked, his voice scratchy. "It's the middle of the night, what's--"

"We were attacked. They're dead, but the bodies…Freddie can't speak and said something about the crimson surge."

"What? Crimson surge? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I--"

"Anthony." It was the deep voice of Oliver Hughes. "Where are you?"

"Barcelona," Anthony answered. "Parc Güell. Freddie needs help. Please. What's going on? Who are these people?"

"Listen to me. Freddie will be fine in a couple of hours. Get him back to your hotel."

"But--"

"He needs to rest." Oliver's tone was resolute. "I'll send a cleanup crew for the bodies. Your uncle will explain everything in person. We'll take the jet. It shouldn't take us more than three hours."

"What's wrong with Freddie? He's so weak…"

"He'll be okay. Just get him into bed and we'll meet you there. We'll be in the air within twenty minutes."

Oliver hung up the call. Anthony looked down at Freddie, his pale, freckled face marred by exhaustion and pain.

"Freddie?"

Freddie moaned, not opening his eyes.

"Freddie, honey, you have to walk. You can take a nap at the hotel."

Freddie didn't move, his head tight to Anthony's chest. Anthony panicked for a moment. How would he get this man moving? Freddie must have seventy-five pounds on him.

After a moment of consideration, Anthony craned his neck down and touched his lips to Freddie's. It was the softest of kisses, full of a desperate desire for him to be okay. Freddie stirred against him, and his eyes fluttered open, but still he said nothing. "Come on, Freddie." Anthony squared himself and pushed to give Freddie the support to stand. "I've got you."

It was enough to get Freddie up on his feet, although his steps were unsteady. He leaned against Anthony as they walked, never saying a word. It took some effort. Anthony was half a foot shorter than Freddie, and he hadn't worked out, well, ever. Freddie was pure muscle.

They plodded along the bricks and cobblestones of ancient Barcelona. The light of the moon cast a pale light on the quiet streets, but Anthony took no notice. It was slow going, but seeing Freddie in this state triggered something in Anthony. No matter what else had happened, Freddie had saved his life. Of that, he was sure. Freddie had put himself in danger for Anthony.

Since the death of his parents, the only person he'd been able to count on was Uncle Daniel. That had stayed true his whole adulthood. If he was honest, he hadn't been willing to let anyone else get close enough. Somehow, Freddie had skirted his defenses.

Freddie had risked his life to protect Anthony. Anthony could support him in the aftermath. Anthony's stomach flipped at the thought. Anxiety, maybe, but something else as well. A jolt of hope. Could they support each other? And more?

Anthony shoved the thought away. He had to get Freddie into bed.

Freddie was out the minute his head hit the pillow. He'd been silent the whole walk back, but as he drifted to sleep, he murmured one word.

"Anthony…"

Anthony's chest tightened with fear. He had to trust that Oliver was right, that Freddie would be okay. But he was alone in the hotel room, sitting and watching over Freddie, just as Freddie had done for him so many nights.

In the quiet, his mind spun with worry. What if Freddie didn't wake up? And what was Freddie? What were those attackers? He hadn't seen much. The whole fight had been a blur. Freddie's eyes had glowed red. The carnage he'd left behind was…severe. And claws? Had there been claws?

He spent the next few hours focusing on Freddie's breathing. That sound meant that something was okay, that Freddie was alive and might come back to him.

He had dozed off in his chair when a loud knock echoed through the room.

Anthony startled awake, his eyes snapping open. He sprang up and looked through the peephole. He was expecting his uncle, but it could be more cult members. Mobsters. Whatever the fuck they were.

On the other side of the door stood Uncle Daniel and Oliver Hughes, both meticulously groomed despite the late hour. Oliver had always dressed in an old-world European style, never without one of his tweed suits. His uncle wore jeans, but they were designer. They fit like a glove.

Anthony opened the door and Daniel rushed him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Oh Tony, honey, are you okay? I'm so sorry about all this."

Anthony leaned into the warmth of his uncle's embrace. It was the safe home of his childhood. "I'm okay, Uncle Danny. There were a couple of scary moments, but I'm not hurt."

"I'm so glad, sweetheart."

"I'm worried about Freddie."

"Let me look at him." Oliver's deep voice was a soothing balm. He took Freddie's hand, then bent over him and sniffed . What the hell was he doing?

Anthony held his breath. Freddie had to be okay.

Oliver let Freddie's hand drop down to the mattress. "He'll be fine by morning. This is normal."

With those words, something broke in Anthony.

"Normal?" Anthony asked, trembling with rage and fear. "Nothing about any of this is normal! Who are those people? Were , I should say, because they're all dead, every last one of them. Are they people at all? Is Freddie? What is Freddie? Hell, what are you?!?"

"He's a vampire, sweetie." Daniel's hand came to rest on Anthony's shoulder. "So were the people who attacked."

Anthony recoiled, suddenly light-headed. He took a deep breath. "A fucking vampire? Are you serious?"

"He is," Oliver said. "Freddie is a vampire. As am I."

Anthony spun around to face his uncle. "You married a vampire ?"

A small smile teased on Daniel's face. "You can accept the existence of vampires, but it's the fact that I married one that's weird?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Anthony collapsed down into the nearby armchair. "I saw the fight. Or rather, didn't see it, since everyone was moving so goddamn fast. There had to be some kind of supernatural explanation. I thought Freddie was some kind of government experiment, a mutant super soldier or something. I didn't think it would be vampires! And I don't understand why you'd marry one."

"Because I fell in love." Daniel opened and closed his mouth, like he wanted to say more. Finally, he spoke. "I'm a vampire as well."

"You are not! You're my uncle." Anthony's hands clamped to the arms of the chair. He had to find some kind of solid mooring.

"I am. But I'm also a vampire. Ollie turned me on our wedding night."

"Ollie?!" Of all the insane things Anthony was learning tonight, the fact that anyone would call someone with as commanding a presence as Oliver Hughes by the nickname "Ollie" was the most discomfiting.

"Don't repeat that." Oliver's voice carried both humor and menace. "Danny's the only one that can call me that."

"I'm sure you have questions, Anthony." Daniel patted Anthony's shoulder. "I know this is a lot."

"It is. I do. Did it hurt becoming a vampire?" The words flew out of Anthony's mouth unbidden. Why did he want to know that?

"It did. It was a rough couple of days. But now I can be with Oliver for hundreds of years, instead of a few decades."

"Wow." Anthony kept glancing at Freddie as they spoke. He looked so peaceful now that he was resting. Beautiful, his face a pristine porcelain sculpture. He forced his gaze back to Daniel.

"Do you drink blood?"

"We do. Never from the unwilling. And usually not in the donor's presence. Oliver and I drink from blood bags for sustenance. The act of drinking can be a very sensual one, and once a vampire finds their mate, they don't want to share that experience with anyone else. But the makeup of vampire blood and human blood is dissimilar, and each provides different nutrients."

"Mate?"

"Yes, Oliver is my mate. Fate intended for us to be together. When a vampire meets their mate, the beast inside of them, the demon, as some vampires call it, can sense the connection, even if the conscious mind hasn't figured it out yet. When mates find one another, it is a special and sacred event."

Anthony shook his head. This was a whole new world. Vampires were a new species. It was overwhelming.

"That's…that's incredible."

"It is." Oliver's voice rumbled from across the room. "Finding Daniel was a defining moment of my life."

"Same, lover." Daniel winked at Oliver.

"Sunlight?" Anthony asked, breaking their annoying banter. "I've been outside with Freddie during the day multiple times."

"It's fine," Daniel answered. "Younger vampires are weaker in the sun, sometimes lethargic, but the older a vampire gets, the less they are affected."

"Garlic?"

"Are you kidding me?" Daniel chuckled, his eyes lighting up. "Like I'm going to stop eating Nonna's lasagna."

"Do you have to be invited in to enter someone's house?"

"No. Although vampires do tend to be unfailingly polite. A side effect of trying to stay hidden in the human world."

"Can you turn into a bat?"

"God, I wish!"

"How…how can you die?"

Daniel lost his smile, his face taking on a serious cast. "It's not easy, but it's possible. A stake to the heart, or decapitation. Sometimes, these old vampires forget that they're not invincible. You have to watch out for that with Freddie."

Anthony just nodded, not entirely sure what Daniel meant.

"I need to get back, sweet," Oliver said. "I have to convene a war council to decide what to do about the Azarians."

Oliver walked over and put his arm around Daniel's shoulders, the suit material straining around his muscles. "Do you want to stay with Anthony?"

"Do you want me to stay?" The worry shone on Daniel's face. "I can."

"Do you think they'll attack again?" Anthony asked.

Oliver shook his head. "No. They'll be licking their wounds for a bit. Regardless, I've stationed a couple of my people downstairs, just in case. You will be safe until we can figure out our next move."

"I should be okay, assuming Freddie wakes up in the morning like you said." Anthony glanced over at the bed. Freddie's face was peaceful, but fear still sputtered deep inside Anthony. What if he didn't? What if he had given up everything for Anthony?

"He'll be out for a few more hours, but then he'll be as good as new." Oliver smiled with pride. "He is the best of my coven."

"What caused the…whatever he called it…the crimson surge?"

Daniel and Oliver glanced at each other uneasily. Daniel turned back to Anthony, compassion in his eyes.

"That's not our place to say, honey. Freddie needs to tell you for himself."