Make Me Soar (6 page)

The endearment had just slipped in there. It told Alan just how much he’d become invested in the submissive. But this wasn’t helping.

“Let’s split up,” he suggested. “We can cover more ground that way. Just show the photo to as many people as you can, and let’s pray we find someone who recognizes him.” He’d already been busy praying, ever since they’d boarded the plane that morning. Berlin wasn’t
that
small a city, and the chances of finding Dorian if he wasn’t in the Lab were minuscule. Once they’d arrived in Berlin, they hadn’t wasted time booking into a hotel. That could wait. They’d been on the streets, their overnight bags in their hands, going through every bar and café they found, hoping for a glimpse of Dorian. When the club opened its doors at ten, he and Leo were the first in there.

Leo nodded. “I’ll holler if I find out anything.”

“Me too. But we only have a couple of hours. At midnight the doors get locked, and then we’re in here for the duration.”

Leo’s expression grew determined. “Then let’s get going.”

They parted company, and Alan started at the bar, working his way methodically through as many men as he could question. The club wasn’t that big, but with so many men pressed into it, making his way through the crowds took time. His heart sank with each negative response. Now and again he spotted Leo, who was having similar luck, judging by his expression. By the time it got to eleven thirty, Alan was starting to despair. No one had seen Dorian.
Did Pietro get it wrong? Are we looking in the wrong place?
Christ, he hoped not.

He flashed Dorian’s image at another guy and mechanically rolled out the question. “
Wir suchen diesen jungen Mann. Haben Sie ihn gesehen
?”

The man studied the photo with a frown, but then his brow cleared and he nodded.

Alan’s heartbeat sped up, and he lapsed into English. “Are you sure?”

The man studied the photo once more. “I think I saw him. But his hair was not like this. It was shorter, lighter.”

Thank you, God
. “When did you see him?” Alan demanded, trying to keep a lid on his excitement. He glanced around, scanning the club for Leo. When he caught sight of him, he gestured impatiently, and Leo’s face lit up in an expression of sheer relief.

“He was here on Thursday, all night. He came back on Friday, but he did not stay. He was talking with Karl, and then he left with him,” the guy continued.

Leo appeared at his side. “Is Karl here now?”

The guy peered around the club, stretching up on the balls of his feet to scan the crowd. Suddenly he smiled and pointed toward the section of the club with the glory holes. “That is Karl, with the shaved head and the leather gilet.”

Alan followed the direction of his pointing finger. “
Vielen Dank
,” he said. Without waiting for a response he strode off toward the tall man who was watching three guys having sex over a bench, two of them sliding their dicks into the third’s hole. The two Doms ignored the scene before them and moved to flank him, Leo to Karl’s right side and Alan to his left.

Karl glanced at them and then did a slow double take. He smiled. “Hallo.” His eyes gleamed with interest, but the light in them died when Alan held up Dorian’s photo. His face fell before he rapidly schooled his features.

Alan came straight to the point. “
Wir suchen diesen jungen Mann.
Haben Sie ihn gesehen?
”

Karl responded quickly, “I have not seen him.”

Leo moved closer and gazed down at him. “And yet not knowing us, you switch into English. How interesting.”

Karl swallowed. Alan could understand that reaction. At six feet three, Leo could be bloody intimidating when he wanted to be.

Alan leaned in until his lips were scant inches from Karl’s ear. “
Wo ist er?
”

Karl licked his lips. “Who? This boy?”

Alan growled at the back of his throat. “Do
not
mess with me. We know you left the club with our friend. You were seen. So I will repeat my question.” He locked eyes with Karl, staring at him, unblinking. “Where. Is. He?” He delivered each word in a flat tone, injecting as much menace into his words as he could.

Karl’s gaze darted from Alan to Leo and back to Alan again. He swallowed hard. “Look, all I did was take him to a friend’s party.”

“And still you do not answer my question.” Alan was fighting the urge to seize the guy by the throat.

Karl’s breathing quickened. “When the party finished, we took him to his hotel.”

“Which hotel?” Leo ground out.

Karl blinked. “Th-the Holiday Inn, on Wanda-Kallenbach-Straße.” A look of panic flashed across his face. “He was fine when we left him. I swear.”

Alan looked around swiftly and then grabbed Karl by the upper arm, dragging him to the side. Karl’s eyes widened when Alan pushed him up against the wall, his arm across Karl’s throat. Leo was beside him, his gaze flitting around, on alert.

“If I find that you and your friends have hurt him—and by that I mean beyond what he would have wished—I
will
find you.” Alan kept his voice low. He got right into Karl’s face, his breath wafting against the man’s cheek. “
Das ist ein Versprechen.
” His hand squeezed Karl’s bicep, fingers digging into the firm flesh, making him wince.

Karl paled. Alan’s heart sank to smell the fear rolling off him in waves.
Christ, what have they done to you, Dorian?
Karl gaped at Alan, mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out.

With a final growl, Alan released him, and he and Leo made their way back to the main door and out of the club. Alan strode along the street, unable to speak. Fear clawed at his throat. Next to him Leo was silent, easily keeping up with him. They walked through the industrial district and back into the city center. Alan had spotted the Holiday Inn that afternoon when they’d been trawling the streets, looking for Dorian.

As they approached the hotel with its familiar green lettering, Leo stopped him. “We may have a problem.”

Alan frowned. “What?”

“The Holiday Inn has a policy. Only guests with a room key are allowed up to the rooms.”

“Hell.” Alan stared at him. “Then what do we do?”

Leo patted his back. “You leave this to me.” He walked up to the glass door, where a security guard was standing, dressed in black, a walkie-talkie in his hand. He held up a hand to stop them.

Leo dived right in. “I’m sorry,” he began smoothly, “but I don’t speak German. I’m looking for my son, who is staying in this hotel. His friends have contacted us to say he’s been taken ill.”

The guard studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Go to reception and see if they can help you.”

Leo gave him a grateful smile, and they stepped through the door, which the guard held open for them. The hotel was quiet, except for the sound of music playing softly in the background. They walked up to the reception desk, where a young woman dressed in a smart black suit stood peering at a monitor. She smiled politely at them. Leo repeated his story, his face contorted with worry. He explained that they had flown out from the UK after receiving news of his son’s ill health. She listened, making sympathetic noises. When he’d finished, she asked for the name, and then her fingers flew over the keyboard, nails clicking against the keys.

She smiled. “Your son is staying in room 302. Let me try calling him for you.”

Alan waited, anxiety gnawing at his insides, while she phoned. A frown creased her forehead. “He’s not answering.”

“Well, can’t we just go up there?” Leo demanded, his impatience showing a little.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you are not guests here.”

Leo leaned against the wide counter. “This is my son we are talking about. Please, there must be something you can do.” He gazed at her earnestly.

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Is there a problem?” An older man appeared from a door behind the receptionist. His name badge declared him to be the hotel manager. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.” Leo explained the situation once more.

The manager listened intently. When Leo had finished, he came from around the desk. “I cannot issue you a key—hotel policy, you understand—but I will accompany you up to your son’s room.”

Alan could have groaned aloud. It wasn’t ideal—they had no way of knowing what state Dorian was in—but it would have to do.

“Thank you so much,” Leo said fervently. He gave the receptionist a smile, and then they strode across the polished tile floor to the elevators, the manager leading the way. Once inside, they rode up in silence. Alan’s heart was pounding.

The doors slid open, and they emerged onto the quiet corridor. The manager walked ahead of them until they reached room 302. He knocked on the door and waited. No sound came from inside. The manager withdrew a key card, slid it into place, and then pushed open the door.

They followed him into the darkened room. The curtains were drawn, but Alan was able to make out a figure on the bed. Leo switched on the bathroom light, providing more illumination. Alan went over to the bed and choked back a low cry.

Dorian lay naked on top of the bed, facedown, his breathing harsh. His lower back had a bandage fastened around it, and there was a little blood crusted at the top of his crease. Dorian was sleeping, but clearly not peacefully. Small noises escaped his lips. Alan could make out the beginning of bruising on his cheekbones, upper arms, and hips. Bruises encircled his wrists, and there were thin purple-blue stripes across his arse and back, visible beneath the smears of blood. Alan’s nostrils flared at the scent of stale vomit.

It took every ounce of strength he had not to slam his fist into the nearest wall.
Those fucking bastards
. He was going to kill them.

“Oh fuck,” Leo exclaimed softly beside him. He caught the manager’s sharp intake of breath.

Alan knelt beside the bed and gently stroked Dorian’s arm, trying not to startle him. Dorian jerked awake, blinking, his breath leaving him in a harsh gasp. His eyes widened when he saw Alan, and then he stared when he caught sight of Leo and the manager.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” he croaked.

Alan could barely make out the words.

Then Dorian’s face fell. “Go away. Just go.” The whisper was just about audible. He pushed his face into the pillow, his body shaking as he started to sob.

It was all Alan could do not to growl. “We’re not going anywhere,” he told Dorian quietly. To his dismay, Dorian’s sobbing increased. He could hear Leo’s swift intake of breath.

Leo turned to the manager. “Do you have a first aid kit down at reception? We will need supplies if we are to tend to my son’s injuries.”

The manager was staring at Dorian, aghast. “Of course. But surely this is a matter for the police.”

Dorian raised his head from the pillow, eyes wide and staring. “No police.” His voice rasped.

Both Leo and the manager stared at him in astonishment.

Leo goggled. “You are fucking
kidding
me. Look at the state of you, lad.”

Dorian didn’t break eye contact. “No. Police.”

Leo glared, but it was clear Dorian wasn’t about to back down. He sighed and turned to the manager. “I think what is more important right now is to deal with his injuries. We can decide on any further action in the morning.”

The manager frowned. “This is most irregular. But if the young man is adamant about not requiring the police, there is nothing I can do to force the issue.” He paled. “I would like confirmation that whatever happened did not take place in the hotel.”

“It did not,” Dorian croaked and then winced, his hand going to his throat.

The manager gazed at him doubtfully, but finally he nodded. “If you will come with me,” he said to Leo, “I will find the supplies you require.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I will send someone up to clean.”

Leo nodded. The manager walked toward the door. Leo glanced at Alan. “While I’m down there, I’ll book us into a room.”

Alan shook his head. “Just get a room for yourself. I shall be staying here tonight.”

Dorian’s breathing hitched, and he stiffened. Alan laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Dorian went rigid.

“I am not leaving you alone, Dorian.” He waited until Dorian relaxed beneath his hand and then inclined his head toward Leo. “I’ve got this. Go get what we need.”

Leo nodded. He regarded Dorian with concern. “Are you sure about not wanting the police, lad?”

Dorian tried to sit up and winced. His eyes pleaded with Leo, and it tore Alan up to see the pain in that stare. He opened his mouth to speak, and Alan stopped him, a finger to his swollen lips.

“Don’t try to talk. It obviously hurts you.” Whatever they’d done to his back obviously pained him too.

Dorian gazed up at him, his face contorting with every swallow. He met Leo’s gaze and nodded.

Leo sighed. “Okay, no police, for now at least. But we
will
talk about this in the morning.” He met Alan’s gaze. “See if you can clean off this blood.”

Leo gave Dorian one last look and then followed the manager out of the room, quietly pulling the door shut after him. Dorian stared unhappily at the doorway, and the misery reflected in those brown eyes made Alan’s chest tighten.

“He has a point,” Alan said softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He wrinkled his nose at the smell in the room. “When did you last eat?”

Dorian gave him a blank look, his eyes screwed up. “I… I don’t remember.” It was obvious that every word pained him.

Alan thought quickly. “I’ll ring in room dining and get you something to eat, maybe some soup.” That wouldn’t irritate his throat. Alan had a fairly good idea what had led up to that state. “But first you’re going in the bath.” He studied the lad, noting the tremors that coursed through him, the blank stares.

There was no trace of the Dorian he knew. He’d vanished, leaving in his place a frightened young man.

That did it.

He grabbed the lad and lifted him carefully, hands slipping under his arms to help him to his feet. Dorian hissed, and his knees buckled, but Alan caught him, holding him close. Dorian whimpered, struggling to free himself, but Alan held on tight.