Bound in Blood (19 page)

“Hmm, that’s encouraging,” Roger muttered. He grabbed Micah’s arm. “Hey look, isn’t that Chris with some dude up ahead?”

“Yes, it is. They must have been at the flicks, too.”

Roger frowned. “Could he have hooked up with someone else already?”

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“It could be just a friend, Roger. And remember, he has no memory of Carlos.” They watched as Joey and Chris, deep in conversation, sauntered towards the movie house parking lot then Micah gave Roger a wary look. “You’ve gone quiet. What are you planning?”

“Something devious,” Roger replied. “Something that will get us into a lot of trouble if we’re found out.”

“Oh no,” Micah muttered. “I just got a flash—”

“Well, we have to feed. If we do this right then we’ll be connected to Chris.”

“No, Roger.”

“Okay, you do the other guy. I’ll take Chris.”

“
Roger.
”

But Roger had gone, disappearing in a preternatural blur of movement no human eye could see. Despite his better judgement, and because in about one second flat Chris’ buddy would start screaming blue-bloody murder, he dove after Roger faster than a speeding bullet.

Chris was just about to open his car door when strong arms wrapped around him and he was lifted off his feet at an alarming speed. Before he could even yell, he saw Joey disappear then Chris was literally flying through the air, supported by a young man who looked vaguely familiar. They landed somewhere—Chris had no idea where, nor did he have time to wonder. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the young man’s powerful gaze. He felt drawn to him in a way he couldn’t quite understand and didn’t mind at all when the stranger laid a trail of kisses up the curve of his jaw before his lips nuzzled at Chris’ throat.

Chris arched his neck, enjoying the feel of lips and teeth working at his skin.
I’m going to
have a big old hickey in the morning, but who cares?
This feels so good…
He cupped the back of the man’s head and wound his fingers into the thick blond curls.

The sting of a bite made him wince, but his moan of pain was quickly transformed into one of ecstasy as his body was suffused in a white-hot heat of desire. His erection pressed against the man’s thigh.

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Chris felt a tug of disappointment when the man pulled back then again was mesmerised by the sparkling, dark-blue gaze that met his own wide-eyed stare.

“Christopher…”

“Do I know you?” Chris asked shakily.

The young man lowered his head over his wrist and when he brought it to Chris’ lips it oozed dark-red blood. Without hesitation, as if were the most natural thing in the world for him to do, Chris lapped at the blood, relishing every drop of the rich, dark, spicy flavour.

“Look at me,” the blond man said, removing his wrist from Chris’ lips. Obediently, Chris looked into the young man’s eyes and saw not the fresh-faced California blond but a vision of a tall, darkly handsome man. Memories stirred in Chris’ mind. Wonderful memories of times spent with this man, times of rapture, of yearning and complete fulfilment.

“Remember him,” the young man whispered. “His name is Carlos Galeano.”

Chris opened his car door and sank into the seat next to Joey. His friend turned to him and gave him a drowsy smile.

“Did we just have sex?” he asked, his eyes slightly unfocused.

“I...I don’t think so,” Chris stammered. “At…at least not with each other. I think his name was Carlos.”

Joey sat bolt upright in his seat, the smile wiped from his face. “Carlos?
Your
Carlos?”

Chris stared at Joey with complete bafflement. “
My
Carlos?”

“The guy you were dating. The one you just broke up with. The Spanish guy who offered you a job. The guy you were nuts about for Chrissakes.”

“Joey! I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Joey groaned and sank back into his seat. “What are you, suddenly? The Queen of denial? For Pete’s sake Chris, you were ranting and raving about Carlos practically all the way up to Santa Barbara. You told your folks you were going to be working for him—

antiques or somethin’. Then a couple of days ago you told me you’d split up—or no, wait a BOUND IN BLOOD

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minute, you didn’t actually say that. You said there was no Carlos in your life. I just assumed you’d split up. And now here you go again with the ‘Carlos who?’ routine.”

Chris shook his head slowly. “Honestly Joey, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He turned the key in the ignition and put the car in gear. “All I know is,” he said, reversing out of the parking bay, “I just had a vision of this really hot guy whose name is Carlos. It was like I did know him. But date him? Work for him? I don’t think so.”

“That’s it,” Joey grunted. “I am officially dubbing you the airhead of all time. You wanna play these silly games, go ahead. Just don’t include me in them.”

“Joey, honestly…”

“Don’t start that again,” Joey snapped. He let his head fall back onto the headrest and closed his eyes. “I just want to try and remember what happened earlier. Some guy with the sweetest mouth…” He put his hand to his neck in a reflex movement. “If I don’t have a hickey in the morning, I’ll be surprised.”

Instinctively, Chris put a hand to his neck. Yeah, that’s what he’d thought, too. What the hell had happened earlier? The vision of a tall man with dark, golden-brown, brooding eyes swam before him, momentarily blocking out the glare of the oncoming traffic’s headlights.

Remember him,
a voice echoed in his mind.
His name is Carlos Galeano.

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After Chris dropped a still slightly miffed Joey at his apartment, he headed home, feeling an almost overpowering need to be alone. Joey hadn’t put up too much of an argument when Chris said he wouldn’t stay over with him after all. They had both felt a bit dazed and confused about what had happened after they left the movie house. Something wonderful—but what the hell had it been? He pulled into his parking spot and looked around warily for any sign of the nutcase who had accosted him in the morning, but it all looked clear and quiet outside the apartment.

Besides,
he thought, walking up the steps to his front door
, that guy shows up again, I may
just knock his lights out
. In contrast to how he’d felt earlier, he was now experiencing a sense of vigour and well being—strong. He chuckled, half hoping the guy would actually jump out of the shadows, and he could put him away but good. Poised on the top step and pulling his key out of his pocket, he looked around, staring into the dimly lit grounds that surrounded the apartment building.

Was someone watching him? His skin prickled as he scanned the darkly shadowed trees on the other side of the street. Was that a shadow or the figure of a tall man standing there? It couldn’t be the crazy man—too tall for him. Chris narrowed his eyes, focusing in on the figure. It was definitely a man, he decided, slightly startled that he could see so clearly in the dark and at such a distance. What was going on with him? He felt different somehow—

more alert, more aware of the sights and sounds of the night.

The man started to move away.

No, don’t go. I want to know who you are
.

Chris ran down the steps and across the street at a speed he hadn’t known he was capable of, but even so he was too late. The man was gone. A feeling of desolation swept over Chris, a feeling he couldn’t for the life of him understand. Why would he be saddened by a stranger’s disappearance? It made no sense. He didn’t know the man, yet he’d had an overwhelming desire to be close to him, to speak to him, to put his arms around him and press his face to the man’s chest—

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Whoa. Where the hell were these crazy thoughts coming from
?

“Go home, Chris,” he muttered to himself.
Yeah, go home and go to bed, and tomorrow call
your folks and tell them you’re really coming home—for good
.

Carlos watched as Chris walked back across the street, through the parking lot then up the steps to his apartment. He’d read Chris’ thoughts and was saddened by his decision to go back to Santa Barbara. But there was something else there in Chris’ mind. A confusion but, fortunately, no fear. He’d had an experience that had not been at all unpleasant, but the memory of just what that experience had been still eluded him. Carlos already knew what had occurred, but who among the vampires in LA could it have been?

He probed Chris’ mind for a name, a face, though it was unlikely he would remember either one. Chris disappeared inside his apartment, and Carlos raised himself into the air, gliding across to the building, landing lightly on the balcony. He saw Chris move about the living room, pour himself a glass of wine, take a sip then walk into the bedroom. Carlos watched with longing as Chris pulled off his shirt and jeans, revealing his slender, toned body—the body Carlos could no longer hold and caress.

Wearing only his briefs, Chris walked back into the living room, picked up his glass of wine from the kitchen counter then flopped down on the couch where he sat staring up at the ceiling. Carlos felt his frustration as he tried to remember the elusive events of the evening.

He stiffened with surprise as Chris closed his eyes and brought a vision of a man’s face to the forefront of his mind.

“
Dios
,” he murmured. “
Esta mio
. It’s
me
he’s remembering.” For the words he heard so clearly in Chris’ mind were,
Remember him. His name is Carlos Galeano
.

Who had done this? Who of all the vampires in LA he knew personally would have done this? Not with malice. He sensed that. Chris’ mind was calm, questioning, trying so hard to remember—
longing
to remember. Someone had interfered, hoping perhaps to bring a reconciliation between Chris and himself. He smiled ruefully. Only one he knew would be this headstrong and foolish—well intentioned, perhaps, but foolish.

Roger.

Carlos sighed. He would appear ungrateful if he berated Roger for this, and Marcus would no doubt be furious with his young lover. He did not want to cause a rift between BOUND IN BLOOD

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them, but he could not allow Roger to think he was being helpful in this matter. Chris’

memories should not be tampered with in this way.

It was bad enough that I made him forget what had really happened in the alleyway then let him
remember when he would not believe I was a vampire, only to erase all memories of our time together,
Carlos thought with sadness.
And now Roger, thinking that he was doing the right thing, has
brought me to Christopher’s awareness again.

Carlos passed his hand over the sliding glass door lock, sealing it from outside entry then, knowing that Chris would be safe here for yet another night, he rose into the air, heading back to his friends’ house in Hollywood Hills.

Chris drank the last of his wine then pulled a pillow behind his head and stretched out on the couch. What a weird night this has been, he reflected, and doubly weird that Joey seemed to have had much the same experience.
And why the hell does he keep insisting I know a
guy named Carlos?

Carlos. Carlos Galeano. Why did that name sound so familiar? When he closed his eyes, he saw a vision of the man who had appeared in his mind during that earlier, almost out-of-the-body experience.

“Carlos,” he whispered, seeing again the dark, beguiling eyes, the mane of black hair, the sensuous smile.
Who are you, Carlos
?
I wish I could remember more about you, how we met,
what we meant to one another… Why can’t I remember
?

He was just beginning to doze off when he heard a loud knocking at his door.

“Who the—? Oh, bet that’s Joey.”

“Roger.” Micah’s voice was tense with worry. “Carlos isn’t going to appreciate you messing with Chris like this.”

Roger smiled as he sank back into the cushioned patio chair. “Oh, yeah. He’ll appreciate it when Chris remembers the great times he had with Carlos and doesn’t mind at all that he was doing it with a vampire.”

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“Roger, how on earth are you going to do that? I know you’ve connected with him, but you’re a novice at this kind of thing. It takes someone like Marcus or Joseph—or Carlos himself—to do what you’re attempting, and you know Carlos would never go for it.”

“Listen, you and I have the most powerful vampire strain around,” Roger reminded him. “It comes directly from Marcus, and his powers are awesome, as you know.”

“Right, but he’s had years to perfect them.
Hundreds of years
as you like to point out on occasion. He
knows
what he’s doing.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Roger said, pouting. “I’m taking it nice and slow, just a hint at a time. Just a flash of Carlos now and then—and let me tell you, Chris is very receptive.”

“You think he’s beginning to remember?”

“He remembers something. He’s just not quite sure of the how and the why.”

“Supposing it all comes back too quickly, and he freaks when he remembers Carlos is a vampire? It might tip him over the edge.”

Micah jumped slightly when Marcus and Joseph suddenly appeared on the veranda.

“Why have you closed your minds to Joseph and I?” Marcus demanded, his eyes riveted on Roger. “What are you up to now?”

Roger looked beyond them warily. “Is Carlos with you?”

“No, he hasn’t yet returned, and…” Marcus paused, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, Roger, Micah, you didn’t—”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Micah yelped. “Roger said it would help Carlos.”

“Traitor,” Roger muttered. He pushed himself to his feet, trying to look more nonchalant than he felt. “Look, guys, Carlos is all lost and lonely. He’s trying to act the macho man, like it doesn’t matter, but you can see it in his eyes, sense it in his demeanour.