Ante licked his lips. “I usually feed from here”—he touched the crease of his leg—“because the marks do not show. But I can use your neck or your arms. Wherever you wish.”

  “Hmm.” After a moment of thought, Peter shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto a chair, kicked off his shoes, and unbuckled his trousers.

  His attitude was enthusiastic enough to confuse Ante. “You do not mind me using you this way?”

  “Hey, you’ll be springing for my dinner soon, so it’s only fair. Anyway, when you bit me before? That wasn’t even remotely awful.”

  Ante nodded. “I have a theory about this, although I do not believe it has been scientifically verified. I believe perhaps when a vampire bites, he injects a substance into his prey, a drug, and that—”

  Peter shimmied out of his pants and underwear. “Enlighten me later. For now, bite me.” His cock was half-erect.

  Ante shuddered and closed his eyes, nearly intoxicated by the sight and scent. Before he moved, though, he made an effort to be honest. “Peter, I must tell you. I have learned some things about you.”

  “No.” Peter marched forward, sexy in nothing but shirt and socks, and grabbed the belt loops on Ante’s jeans. “That sounds like a serious discussion, and nobody should have one of those on an empty stomach.” He pulled their bodies flush and began to mouth at the crook of Ante’s neck.

  Ante had a conscience. But his willpower had its limits, and Peter had just crossed them. With a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl, he grasped Peter’s ass with both hands and maneuvered them both to the bed, where he collapsed on top of Peter. God, Ante didn’t even need a taste for Peter to flood his senses.

  He needed to feed before he lost himself altogether.

  As Peter splayed himself across the mattress, Ante slithered down his body. He nuzzled the soft curls at Peter’s groin and allowed himself a single fast lick of the clear liquid beading the tip of Peter’s pretty cock. Then he bit.

  “Oh, shit!” Peter’s exclamation was not a protest. In fact, he grabbed Ante’s hair and pushed his head down firmly as he lifted his pelvis. He said some other things, but Ante couldn’t make sense of them, not when Peter’s roaring pulse filled his ears and that glorious flavor bathed his palate.

  With considerable effort, Ante pulled himself away before drinking too much. Peter moaned and tried to hold him in place, but Ante managed to get away after licking the tiny wounds closed. He knelt between Peter’s legs and stared at the strings of white liquid on Peter’s chest.

  “You have dirtied your shirt,” Ante said.

  “So worth it.” In an impossibly smooth move, Peter slid down between Ante and the mattress, his bare legs bracketing Ante’s denim-clad ones. He massaged the aching bulge at Ante’s groin and—with more eagerness than delicacy—latched his blunt teeth onto Ante’s neck.

  Ante came so hard that the world briefly turned gray. Held in Peter’s arms, he blinked dazedly.

  “Now your jeans need washing too,” Peter said happily. “And I get extra points for guessing that necks are vampire erogenous zones.”

  “I do not own any other jeans.” Ante was still trying to get his brain into gear. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to curl up in bed with a full stomach and the aftershocks of an outstanding orgasm, hold Peter close, and take a long nap.

  Peter stroked Ante’s cheek with astonishing tenderness. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

  That ended up taking longer than necessary, mostly because as soon as they entered the bathroom, Peter became distracted by Ante’s lack of reflection. “How does that even work?” he asked, standing behind Ante and peering around him to stare into the mirror. “I mean, it’s physics, right? How are you immune to physics?”

  “I do not know.”

  “But you’re not immune to all physics. Gravity seems to work for you just fine.”

  Ante turned to face him. “I do not know the science of vampires. My biology is a mystery as well. Yet I exist.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Other beings also exist. Beings with unusual attributes.”

  Peter’s grin disappeared. “I still need to eat too. I don’t want to talk about this yet.”

  “All right.”

  They dabbed at their clothing with damp towels, which was only partially effective. In order to hide the wet spots, Ante had to untuck his T-shirt and Peter had to button his jacket. More or less presentable, they rode the elevator downstairs.

  They had the same waiter as last time—still smelling of marijuana—but he didn’t appear to recognize them. It was dinnertime and the restaurant was nearly full. Ante ordered a cup of coffee, but Peter asked for nachos, spaghetti with meatballs, waffle fries with gravy, a quesadilla, and apple pie. Plus a Coke, of course. The waiter appeared unsurprised by any of it—Ante didn’t know whether drugs or too much time in Vegas had insulated him from astonishment.

  “Your appetite must be expensive,” Ante noted as Peter worked his way through the plates.

  “It is! Mama used to complain about it a lot when I was a kid. Money was tight, you know? And I didn’t actually get really hungry until I grew up. I guess maybe it’s easier when you don’t have to pay for your groceries, huh?”

  “It is cheaper. I would not say it is easier.”

  Peter swallowed a bite of tortilla and cheese. “Yeah, fair enough. You can’t just visit a convenience store if you get the munchies, can you?”

  “Only if the clerk is… available.”

  That made Peter laugh. Then he looked thoughtful. “There are probably a lot of pros and cons to being you. No aging, that would be cool. Then you have that super sexy thing going on.”

  “I have?”

  “Oh yeah. But I dunno. Maybe you were like that before. Were you?”

  “I was a nineteenth-century peasant in central Europe. I did not have hordes hanging outside my little house to admire me.”

  “Nineteenth-century—Jesus! You must have some stories to tell.” Peter reached for his drink and took a long swig. “What was it like the first time you rode in a car?”

  Ante smiled at the memory. “Exhilarating.”

  “Airplane?”

  “I never have.”

  Peter blinked at him. “Really?”

  “It is nearly impossible to be safe from the sun when traveling by air. Even a night flight might be delayed.”

  “Oh, of course. And that’s one of those downsides you have to deal with. Wow. It must be really hard for you.”

  Nobody had ever expressed sympathy for Ante’s plight; he supposed it was hard to sympathize with a monster. Yet Peter appeared genuinely concerned, his warm eyes soft and deep.

  “Are you trying to get me to forget our more serious business?” Ante asked.

  Shrugging, Peter took a bite of waffle fries and talked with his mouth full. “Not really. I’m honestly fascinated by you. Who wouldn’t be? Anyway, my mind mojo thing doesn’t seem to work with you.”

  That caught Ante’s interest, mostly because it confirmed what Eadburg had claimed. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I can’t get a read on you at all—even your body language is… guarded, I guess. And if I’m having any influence on your thoughts, you’re sure as hell not showing it.” He frowned. “Unless the sex… I didn’t mean to….”

  “I was as willing as you were. Perhaps more so.”

  Peter looked relieved. “Good. I may sort of glamour people out of their money, and I’ve definitely convinced security guards and cops to leave me alone. But I don’t trick people into bed.”

  Peter polished off his dessert and the last refill of Coke, and Ante paid the bill. Then they stared at each other.

  “We should probably talk somewhere more private,” said Ante, mindful of the diners nearby.

  “We can go back to your room.”

  Ante felt his mouth twitch into a smile. “I suspect very little talking would take place there.”

  “Point. So where?”

  “Come with me.”

  With Ante leading, they left the Chalet and walked to the Strip. It was a short stroll to the Bellagio, where the fountains rested quietly between their scheduled shows. A few people stood near the stone railing, but it was easy to find a spot away from potential eavesdroppers. Peter leaned against the railing, facing Ante, and waited. If anything, he was more beautiful in the golden outdoor lights than he was indoors. Ante wished he could take Peter far into the desert, where only the moon and stars would illuminate him. Ante would ask Peter to remove all his clothing and would use his gifted eyes to take in Peter’s natural exquisiteness.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Peter.

  Ante sighed. “You. Naked.”

  “I like that. It’s probably a lot better than whatever you dragged me here for.”

  “It is.” Ante moved to the railing and faced the water rather than Peter. “I am sorry. If I could avoid this, I would.”

  Peter was quiet for a long time. Then, in a resigned tone, he said, “Spit it out.”

  “I have already told you that you do not taste human. And—”

  “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “But your identity is related to—” Ante had to grab Peter, who’d started to walk away. “Fine. I will… address the rest of it. But you are going to have to face this soon, Peter.”

  “Nothing to face. I’m just a guy.”

  Ante allowed himself an exasperated noise as he considered how to have this discussion without scaring Peter away. He could come at it from the other direction, he decided. “Many of the businesses in this city are operated by a secret organization.”

  “The Mafia? I thought that was old-school, and modern Vegas is squeaky-corporate clean.”

  Relieved that Peter was staying put, Ante shook his head. “Not the Mafia. You are correct—they no longer hold sway here. This is another group. They call themselves the Shadows.”

  “That sounds very mysterious, in a cheesy sort of way. Are they Eastern European? I’ve heard that Ukrainian and Russian organized crime is all the rage nowadays.”

  “They are vampires.”

  Peter’s eyebrows flew up. “Vampires? There’s a vampire mafia?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Wow. Okay. And you’re one of them?”

  “No. I told you when we met—I do not work for anyone.” He winced. “Usually. On occasion the Shadows contract me for various matters.”

  “Are you a hit man?” Peter looked alarmed. Justifiably.

  “No. That is… they have hired me to destroy vampires. All of those vampires were dangerous, however. They were killing people.”

  “Jesus. I hope that’s true and not just you justifying shit.”

  For some reason Peter’s response pleased Ante. Perhaps because it demonstrated a concern even for monsters. “I saw evidence of their murders myself,” Ante said.

  “Fine. How come you’re not a card-carrying member?”

  “I do not agree with many of their goals and methods. And I think perhaps I make a poor team player.”

  As they spoke, people gathered along the railing for the upcoming fountain show. Ante considered taking them where they’d be less likely to be overheard, but he decided to stay put, at least for now.

  Peter appeared oblivious to the growing crowd. “If you’re not cool with these folks, why work for them at all? I don’t think it’s a money thing. You don’t seem real worried about finances.”

  “Working for them is the price I pay for permission to remain in their city.” It was a painful thing to admit out loud.

  “So why not leave?”

  “And go where?”

  “I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “Anywhere. It’s a big world.”

  “Not so big as you assume. And existing as I must—it is not easy. Those pros and cons you mentioned? The cons are considerable. Besides, there are Shadows cells in nearly every large city in the world.” He had another reason for remaining, but he didn’t want to share it.

  Peter frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “I get it. It sucks. So you freelance for these guys. What does that have to do with me? I’m not a vampire, and I’m sure as hell not killing anyone.”

  The large man standing closest to them stared openly, so Ante drew Peter a few feet down the railing before answering quietly. “The Shadows are aware of your presence here—and your abilities.”

  “Bastard!” Peter snapped before he turned and marched away. He managed to cover about ten feet before a family with a double stroller inadvertently blocked his way and Ante caught up.

  “I did not tell them,” Ante explained. “I would never say anything about you. They still are not aware that you and I have… met. They heard about you from other sources. They have many eyes in this city.”

  The fury melted from Peter’s face. “Okay. I’m glad you’re not a snitch. But you are involved somehow, right?”

  “They have hired me to bring you to them. In fact, they are willing to give me a very considerable sum.”

  “What do they want?”

  “To use your talents. And to make sure none of their adversaries use you instead.”

  “Fuck.” Peter hung his head. He didn’t look up when the music started and the water began to dance. He looked utterly defeated, which made Ante’s unbeating heart ache.

  Ante tried the same arguments he’d used on himself. “It is not such a terrible thing. They will value you, and you will be able to demand a great deal from them. You can live in great luxury.” He sighed. “I told you—so long as their interests are being served, they will be satisfied. And willing to reward you.”

  “And if I say no?”

  Ante simply gazed at him.

  For a moment Ante thought Peter might collapse. But then Peter straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. “Right. And if I skip town?”

  “They will find you.”

  “Right.”

  “It is not… such a terrible thing, this fate. Truly it is not.” Coming from the man who’d just explained why he refused to join the Shadows, this was not a persuasive argument. Ante knew that. But what else could he say?

  Peter’s response was nearly a whisper. If not for Ante’s exceptional hearing, the words would have been lost under the soaring music and the crowd’s oohs and aahs. “Riches await me, huh?”

  “Peter….”

  “No.” This was louder. “I’m gonna have to give it a pass. Sorry about your bounty.”

  “I do not care about that. But why refuse?”

  “People have tried to use me before. It wasn’t…. It didn’t work out well, okay? I don’t like being used.”

  “Used how?”

  Peter shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “In a lot of ways.”

  Suppressing a growl, Ante said, “I am sorry. But you cannot—”

  “I can and I will. Unless you’re planning to drag me there bodily. And even then I’m gonna put up a hell of a fuss.”

  Ante realized he’d been clutching Peter’s shoulder. Guiltily, he let his hand drop. “I will not force you to do anything.”

  As the fountains soared to a crescendo, Peter smiled faintly and stroked Ante’s cheek. “Don’t blame yourself for… whatever happens to me, okay? Not your circus. Can I tell you something?”

  “Yes.”

  “I came back to Lucky Chalet on purpose—’cause I was hoping we’d bump into each other again. And I’m glad we did.”

  Ante was unused to being buffeted by so many emotions. Dumb happiness was the most unlikely of all, and he couldn’t help a smile despite the grim situation. “Yes?”

  “You’re fascinating. And not just the vamp stuff. You must have a million stories.”

  “I suspect you have a few as well.”

  Peter’s expression sobered. “Will you get in trouble for not bringing me in?”

  “No.”

  “You won’t get your payment.”

  “I will survive,” Ante replied, lifting the corner of his mouth. “But I am concerned about you.”

  For a moment Peter turned his head to watch the fountain spout. “I’m used to taking care of myself. I’ll be okay.”

  Ante knew he would not be okay, but he had no idea what to do about it. Arguing would be fruitless, and in any case, Ante could not bring himself to persuade Peter to sell himself to the Shadows. Fuck—Peter might have been correct that Ante wasn’t to blame for this situation, but Ante certainly hadn’t done anything to help, had he?

  “You should go,” Ante said.

  “Yeah. You, um, you take care, all right? It’s kinda cool you’re taking a little bit of me with you.” Peter briefly touched Ante’s stomach.

  “It pleases me too.”

  Ante gave Peter’s shoulder a quick squeeze and began to walk back to the Chalet. He’d need to talk to Edie, but that could wait. Let her think he was still looking for Peter—that would give Peter more time to escape. Not that he wouldn’t be caught eventually.

  “Hey, Ante?”

  Ante stopped and turned to face Peter, who said, “Your gangster pals—they know what I can do. But do they know what I am?”

  Deciding to ignore the crowds, Ante nodded once and shouted back. “You are an elf.”

  “An elf?”

  Peter shook his head, turned on his heel, and stomped away.

  Chapter Seven

  AFTER returning to the Lucky Chalet Casino, Ante planned to head up to his room, curl up in bed, and find something decent on TV. Maybe he’d jerk off—something he rarely did, but Peter’s blood was still sparking inside him.

  God, Peter. The Shadows did not take refusals well, and Ante was shudderingly aware of some of their methods to gain compliance. That was assuming they didn’t simply decide to murder Peter and rid themselves of the problem permanently.

  Ante came to a halt halfway to the Lucky Chalet elevators, nearly causing the man behind to run into him.

  “Hey!” the man exclaimed. He was large, towering over Ante by several inches and probably weighing twice as much. “Watch where the fuck you’re going!”

  Ante didn’t reply; he just gazed at the man. And although he didn’t know what showed on his face or in his eyes, it must have been terrifying. The man paled and shrank in on himself. “Sorry,” he whispered before scuttling away.