Burning Bright (14 page)

“Ivan Andreievich is not a patient man.” Vadim faced Neal again.

“Neither am I.” Neal’s eyes narrowed. “You attack my patrons, watch my business… Give me one good reason why I don’t shoot you myself, as a message to Ivan.”

“You don’t want a war.”

Neal stared at the man standing in the middle of the room, every appearance of calm. He rose slowly and leaned on his desk, fingers tented. “I don’t?”

Sasha was impressed. Vadim showed no sign of fear, though his heartbeat jumped against the skin of his throat. “Ivan will accept a treaty if you make several of our men into tigers.”

Sasha gasped. Vadim’s eyes flicked to his before the Russian returned his attention to Neal.

“No.” Neal’s voice came out flat, authoritative.

“Ivan will bring in other allies if needed. Tigers are not the top of the totem pole.” His blue-grey eyes seemed cautionary suddenly. “You don’t want that.”

Neal stood to his full height, the muscles of his chest sharply defined against the dark red rayon shirt. “I’ve been dealing with punks like you and Ivan since I moved in. First the gangs, then the Asians, and now you. If you think you can intimidate me, you’re in the wrong century.” He paused. “I will bury you.”

Vadim sighed. He held Neal’s gaze without moving and then turned on one heel. He said nothing, just walked out.

“Make sure he leaves,” Neal told Steve.

“What did he mean, other means?” Sasha demanded. “Totem poles?”

“Probably more guys.” Neal sat down. “I need to call Boris. Dammit.”

When Neal said nothing else, Sasha rose and went around his desk. He leaned against it, his leg against Neal’s, and stroked the big man’s face. “Talk to me.”

Neal sighed and sat back in his chair, scooting so his thigh pressed against Sasha’s leg. “You remember who Boris is, right?”

“He’s the guy up north, heads the Troika, right?”

Neal nodded. “He told me to call him if Ivan threatened to muscle in. I didn’t want to, but if he really makes a move on us, we don’t have enough men.” He hesitated. “Also, Vadim is threatening to bring in other lycanthropes. But Boris will help us.”

“Then call him.”

Neal scratched his forehead, the heavy signet ring he wore flashing as his fingers moved. “I just…”

“You don’t want to depend on him.”

Neal gazed at him. “Yeah.”

“This isn’t. This is calling in reinforcements. It’s not like they have to stay.”

“That’s just it. They want to. Boris wants a reason to challenge me.”

“I’ll kill him for you, then.”

Neal’s eyes widened. “What?”

Sasha leaned over, watching Neal’s eyes dilate as he got close. He kissed the big man’s nose. “Tell him. It’ll confuse him long enough for you to get the drop on him.” He straightened and went over to Neal’s mini fridge. “You want a soda?”

“Coke, and when did you get this bloodthirsty?”

Sasha shrugged. “Maybe I’ve always been.” He handed over the Coke. “You gonna call him?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Neal sighed.

“There’s something else, though,” Sasha mused. “Vadim called Petya ‘Pyotr Ivanich’. That’s Petya’s formal name, not his nickname. That’s a big deal to traditional Russians and it tells us something about them. I don’t think Vadim likes or agrees with Petya.”

Neal grunted but didn’t argue. The couch sighed when Sasha sat on it, a soft puff of air. Neal watched him and then typed something on his PC. He dialed the phone and sat back.

Sasha needed to go to the can and slipped out. When he returned, Neal finished his phone call and sat, staring out the window. Sasha walked over and cupped his face with one hand.

“You all right?”

Neal nodded. “Yeah. He’s planning on sending guys down, they’ll be available when I need them. But that’s not the problem. Mitch is missing.”

Sasha frowned. “Mitch.”

“Yeah.” Neal glanced at him. “He’s one of us, but went up to the Troika because Boris lets him play with his tiger. But he came back to Chicago. He told Boris he’d come to me, but I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks.”

“You think something happened?”

“To Mitch? No. I think he’s a fucking smartass and is lying.”

“Oh.” Sasha stroked Neal’s cheek. “Is that a problem?”

“I wish…” He trailed off and seemed to see Sasha for the first time. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs. I’m hungry.”

Sasha blinked. “Are you serious?”

Neal stood. “Yeah. Why not?”

“I figured you had more work to do down here.”

“I’m done. Come on, I’ll make you something to eat.”

The door to Neal’s office opened almost before Neal stopped talking. Steve stepped in. “Hey, Sarge.”

“Is he out of here?”

“He left. Had a driver outside in a Beemer. No one else that we could see.”

Neal grunted but didn’t say anything else right away. Steve met Sasha’s gaze, his lips parted. Sasha smiled and Steve’s eyes deepened and looked heavy-lidded, as though the other man remembered last night.

Desire to do it again filled Sasha.

But would Neal understand? It wasn’t like he wasn’t satisfied with the big man, but he liked more than one partner.

“What’s up, Doc?” Steve murmured.

“Huh?” He flushed. “Nothing.”
 

Neal stirred. “You hungry, Steve-O? I’m gonna make Doc some lunch. You wanna come up?”

Steve, holding Sasha’s gaze but speaking to Neal, said, “Sure. That sounds like a good idea.”

Sasha blushed harder and stepped into the hallway. The other two men followed him to the elevator. He could feel Steve’s gaze on him like something physical. He glanced back and their eyes met. Heat bloomed in his chest as his empathy awakened. He tried to keep his breathing calm as he walked into Neal’s apartment.

“Doc?” Neal asked from in front of him.

Sasha whipped his head around and stopped short of walking into him. “Yeah?”

Neal frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing, why?” Sasha couldn’t ask if it was okay to go snuggle against Steve and give him the hug and kiss he wanted to, or more. What if last night had been a one-off? After the seriousness of Vadim’s visit his sex life wasn’t the priority.

Neal chuckled. “Sure. Sit down. Here, you want a soda?”

“Iced tea would be better.”

“You and your iced tea obsession.” Neal handed him a glass of the mango tea from the restaurant. “I figured you’d go for that again.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

Neal gave him a look somewhere between a frown and a smirk. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing.” He tried to regain his composure.

Carlos knocked and walked in. “Hey. Teej said you guys were up here. Vadim mentioned something about other guys. What did he mean?”

Neal sighed and rummaged in the fridge. “I don’t know. And that bothers me.”

“What about Mitch?” Steve asked.

“Boris said Mitch told him he was coming back to Chicago, that he checked in with me.”

“God damned fuck-up.” Carlos took a long sip.

Neal regarded him with some surprise. “Mitch is cool.”

“He’s a lying sack of shit, boss,” Carlos snapped, leaning against the fridge door.

“You’re just pissed ‘cause he wouldn’t fuck you,” Steve murmured.

Carlos flushed and straightened.

“Enough,” Neal snapped. “This isn’t helping anything.”

Carlos glared at him but settled back.

“Now what?” Steve asked.

“We need more information.” Neal blew out his breath. “We need to know what Ivan is planning.”

“I’ll get on it,” Carlos said. “TJ’s already checking into stuff.”

“You need to be careful.” Steve pointed at Sasha.

“You’re kidding. What the fuck do I have to do with anything?” Sasha threw up his hands. “I’m not a tiger.”

“Yeah, but you smell like us,” Steve countered. “Be careful.”

“Okay. I won’t go around any alleyways with catnip hanging out of my pockets.”

Carlos chuckled. “We don’t really have anything else right now, Sarge.”

Sasha got an idea. “What if I do that?”

“Do what?” Carlos asked.

“Go around alleyways? Metaphorically. But they probably have hangouts, right? What if I—”

“Fuck no,” Neal shouted.

Sasha stared at him, startled at his vehemence. “Why not?”

“It’s too dangerous. These guys are mob thugs, not magical bad guys. You may be a Guardian, but they play for keeps.”

“Yeah.” Frustration loomed. “I get it.”

“I’m not saying you’re not plenty capable,” Neal soothed. “But these guys are the shoot first, talk later types. Don’t forget what you did to Alyosha. They want your blood, Doc.”

He
had
forgotten Alyosha. That made him feel better, actually. “I guess that’s a good point.”

Steve looked at Neal. “We need to grab Paul and have another pow-wow. Especially if more tigers are coming.”

“Yeah,” Carlos agreed. Then he frowned. “Where are we going to even put them or feed them?”

Sasha sat there like the fifth wheel as the other three men waited for Paul and Mario to join them. Dealing with the two run-ins with the Russians, as well as trying to decide if he should bring up multiple partners this early in a new relationship, seemed to fight for attention in his mind. He wasn’t even sure if he
wanted
multiple partners right now. How should he act around Carlos and Steve? He didn’t want to offend Neal. He rubbed his face, a headache starting. Food didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

“I should get going. I’ve got to run some errands and clean my apartment.”

Neal looked over at him, clearly startled. “Okay, if that’s what you need to do. I’ll walk you to your truck.”

“See you soon,” Steve said firmly, though he didn’t reach for Sasha or make any other physical move.

“Drive safe,” Carlos added.

They didn’t talk much on the way down. Sasha could hear TJ explaining the installment schedule of the new cameras over the radio. They reached the alley before Sasha could think of anything to say. He had no idea what the right thing would be.

“Next time you visit,” Neal told him, “call first so you don’t come in alone. We need to tighten things up even more.”

The concern in Neal’s voice warmed him. Waiting for the parking lot gate to roll back, Neal hooked a hand around Sasha’s neck, pulling him close. Sasha opened his mouth for Neal’s tongue as it swept in.

After a few seconds he couldn’t care less about Russians, or his chores. Maybe laundry could wait…

Neal broke the kiss and Sasha tried not to whimper in disappointment. The firm spank on his ass only made his cock harder.

“Get, going, I’ll close the gate behind you.”

Sasha climbed into his truck thinking how the Factory seemed more like home than his dingy apartment.

Chapter Sixteen

Dance, Dance, Dance

As soon as he got home, Sasha rebuilt all the protection spells in his apartment and added one to his truck. He went out for a run, eyeing strangers with hostility, but encountered nothing out of the ordinary. Trotting up the steps to his building, his mobile phone rang and Marty’s number popped up.

“Hey, Marty,” he greeted. “Just got back from jogging.”

“How are you? You got anything on for tonight?”

“No, why? What did you have in mind?” He went up the stairs two at a time, grateful that his ribs no longer bothered him.

“Dancing?”

He brightened. “That sounds good. When?”

“We’ll pick you up around nine, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

After hanging up, he sat down and checked his emails. He had one from Doctor Salisbury, telling him that the final decision should be made by Tuesday.

His heart pounded hard enough it made him dizzy. He sat back in his chair, clinging to the sides. Tuesday. That was
four
days away. Dammit. He wanted to know
now
.

Chores filled the rest of the day until it was time to get ready. He wiggled into his leather pants and a net shirt and gelled his hair. The black eyeliner chilled his skin but he ran it under hot water before lining his bottom lids, and then put some gloss on his lips. He wrapped two beaded strands of onyx and hematite around his right wrist and took out all the cash he had.

“You’re coming with me, this time,” he told the bills as he stuffed them in the inside pocket of the pants along with his license and house key.

He bounced downstairs to where Marty stood next to Vince’s car.

“We’re not taking yours?” Sasha asked.

“No, this has a bigger back seat. That way you’re not stuffed in there.” Marty looked him up and down, dressed in black latex pants and a tight electric blue short-sleeved shirt that clearly showed his nipples pressing against it. “You look hot, Sasha.”

“You do too.” Sasha got into the black Corolla. “Hey, Vince.”

Vince looked delectable in jeans and a white T-shirt. His black belt and boots stood out against the softer colors of the denim. “You up for some fun?”

Sasha grinned at him. “Always.”

They drove down to Boystown to Circuit, and the sign out front proclaimed “Fridays—Girls Night Out”.

He snorted. “We shoulda brought a chick with us.”

Marty eyed him, twinkling. “Is this where I say you’ll do?”

Sasha stared at him, shocked, and then burst out laughing. Vince smirked, concentrating on angling the car into a parking place.

They entered and paid the cover. Already packed, they nevertheless managed to stay together. The wall of sound engulfed them and Marty’s teeth flashed white in his face. He mimed drinking and Sasha shrugged. Vince shook his head and Marty led the way to the dance floor.

A slender platinum blond gyrated near the center. He’d been on stage performing that first night at the club. Daniel… No, Dillon. He was pretty sure his name was Dillon. Sasha moved nearby and Marty matched him. Vince hung back a little, preferring the edge.

Being watched was hardly a new experience for him, but gradually the feeling grew. A chill shivered through him. The top from Neal’s club, the black-haired Goth one, danced on the other side of Dillon. For the life of him, Sasha couldn’t remember his name.

As though aware of his scrutiny, the man blinked large brown eyes and looked pointedly over Sasha’s shoulder.