Scavengers: Collection - Books 1-4 (Zombie Gentlemen) (m/m zombie steampunk erotic romance) (24 page)

“James, it’s not meant to be... the two of ya and ya know it.” Ira looked straight into his face.

James felt a sting under his eyelids. Everything around, the people, the cider, the laughs, the screams, appeared as though from behind a curtain for his detached mind. “It’s the darkness in me,” he whispered, barely able to speak. “She must sense it.”

“What the fuck are ya talkin’ 'bout?!” Ira asked him, clearly raising his voice. “Ya just aren’t interested, and she
does
sense that!”

It was like a slap to the face, that maybe he needed. He blinked as if he just woke from a dream. “I shouldn’t have married.”

Ira exhaled slowly, taking a few long sips of beer. “No use thinkin’ ‘bout that now. But ya gave ‘er a son. Ya enjoy each other’s company. Like sister n’brother.”

“But she must be unsatisfied. Just like you said. It’s so selfish of me to have you!” James slouched hiding his face in his hands.

“So let 'er meet somebody without guilt. Everyone’ll be ‘appy,” said Ira, as if it were the most obvious answer to the problem.

“Do you not understand?” He shook his head. “I would be the laughing stock of the city.”

“Ya think her indiscreet?”

“This can’t work.” James rolled his eyes.

“Ya choice. After all, ya the master of the ‘ouse.” Ira’s comment sounded as if he'd soaked it in a pint of lemon juice.

“Thank you!” James got up from the bench and started walking away. He didn’t know if this kind of arrangement would be something his wife would even want. How was he supposed to even ask her about that?

“Come back ‘ere!” He heard Ira’s voice ripping through the roar of the crowd.

“I’m just getting some fucking peanuts!” For once, he was happy that he could manifest his frustration without sticking out like a sore thumb. This wasn’t polite society. Definitely not the lady who let a male friend suck on her--

James flushed, looking away as if something burned his eyes.

“Get some for me too!”

James shot Ira an annoyed look, walking straight to the sales girl with a box of snacks in front of her belly. Knucklehead! Didn’t understand a thing! Everything was so easy in that simple, working-class world of his! Eating, sleeping and fucking about all day long! How on earth were they supposed to get Katherine a man!? Not to mention that he didn’t feel comfortable even considering such a thing! It was
his
wife! What if that other man hurt her, mistreated her even? Or caused her heartache. He couldn’t let that happen!

Someone put his arm around him just as he was reaching the vendor. “Whatya doin’ere?” From the putrid smell of cheap alcohol, James knew it couldn't be Ira. He looked towards the stranger with a neutral expression. It was a middle-aged man in a rugged, brown coat with a beard that looked almost like a scarf as it seemed to grow all over his neck.

James raised his eyebrows and gave the young salesgirl a few pennies. “Do I know you, sir?”

“Not yet, wanna get me a large gin?” Scarfbeard hugged James’ side, giving him a friendly, if somewhat irregular grin.

“I don’t think so.” James pouted and pushed the man away without much force. He only wanted to get his point across.

“Ya cheap for such a fine-faced lad!” The stranger spat on the ground with distaste.

“Just two, sir?” asked the peanut girl who must have heard his exchange with Ira. James nodded, before looking back at the man.

“I’ll buy you gin if you tell me what your thoughts on the Johners are,” he said. Might as well get some working-class information as he was here. Ira could wait and so could his outrageous ideas.

Scarfbeard straightened his back and suddenly poked James on the breastbone. “What, ya with those crazy fucks?!”

“Calm down, idiot!” hissed the girl, pushing two paper bags of peanuts into James’ chest.

“I’m just asking!” James huffed, trying to hold the food and push Scarfbeard away at once. At least this could be a way of blowing off some steam.

“So ya got ya answer, now gimme the gin!” spat the man.

James reluctantly shoved a few coins into his sweaty hand and made his way back to Ira, who shot him an expectant look, but didn’t utter a word. James just pushed the peanuts into his hand and sat down, deflated and defeated.

“Boy?” Ira scooted closer to him until their thighs touched. “Let
’s just enjoy the evenin’, yeah?”

James gave him a nod, discretely brushing against Ira’s thigh. It was hard to get his thoughts off Katherine. Could she really be infatuated with his lover? When he gave it more thought he wasn't overly surprised. Ira was so strong, brawny and fun to be around. And now, he was giving James such a lovely smile, his anger evaporated like water from a hot pan.

“Ya know what, we might just get some chocolate after? What d’ya think?”

“We might,” James said with a sigh, after a long silence. “Why does she like you better!?” he blurted out in the end.

“Ah, James...” Ira let out a pained sigh as the lights slowly went out and despite all logic, the crowd became even louder. Some spectators were even whistling to encourage the performers. At least that was James' presumption. “Ya don’t bed ’er, that’s the reason, I’m sure,” said Ira gently stroking James’ thigh in the dark.

“I hope. We will have to think of something.” James released yet another tired sigh and turned his face towards the spectacle. Maybe this novelty could give him some peace for a while.

“Ya know, she never did anythin'. It’s just... ya know, lookin’,” Ira assured him, gently kissing his ear. The small gesture made James smile and took some pressure off his chest.

“It’s just... I suppose it overwhelmed me a bit.”

“I’m ‘ere to ‘elp ya, boy.” Ira's warm hand closed around his and with yet another smile, he turned his head towards the stage, where the curtains were now open.

Right in the middle stood a tacky, four-poster bed with two people lying under the covers. The stagecraft was primitive and other than the bed, it consisted mostly of fake, cardboard walls representing what James assumed was a wealthy home. He didn’t pay much attention to the furniture and decoration on the walls, but his eyes widened when he spotted two paintings on the cardboard. On first glance, they looked like typical equine portraits of poor quality, but both horses depicted in the pictures had grotesquely overgrown genitalia that swung beneath their stomachs as if the stallions had dismounted mares only seconds ago.

James blinked in astonishment. “And this is normal in a theatre like this?”

Ira let out a chuckle. “Oh yeah,” he answered, without taking his eyes off the stage, watching one of the covered shapes on the bed stir. James was overwhelmed by the noise around him. The crowd was howling, laughing and making comments about the play. It was nothing like the theatres he knew.

An actress in a skimpy version of a housemaid's outfit walked onto the stage, making her way about, as if attending to her daily duties. She trotted over to the back of the stage, pretending to clean a statue with a feather duster. Then, she casually bent forward and her skirt lifted just enough to expose her milky thighs and the tops of her stockings. The roar of countless boots thumping on the wooden floor and loud whistling was something new to James, who looked around, observing the audience who behaved more as if it was a boxing match than anything else. He turned red when he overheard a bulky young man shouting obscenities at the actress, who pretended not to hear any of it as she straightened her back, walking towards the bed. She then came to an abrupt stop, bobbing her head back and dropping the duster to the floor.

“Lord
Bernett
! But your wife died only six years ago!” she screamed in exaggerated shock, her voice slightly drowned by the laughs from the audience. One of the people in the bed uncovered their head, revealing a mop of white hair and a beard of the same color. He looked around as if he had just woken up.

James’ eyes widened at the spectacle. He simply couldn’t comprehend it! These people were making fun of Lord Barnett with no inhibitions whatsoever.

“Since the world is gonna end anyways, I wanted some fun with the godly creatures!” the man playing Barnett exclaimed. Even James found himself smiling at the farce, as he cast his mind back to the speech the Johners preacher - Isaac Bell gave at the disastrous parade. He was amazed that uneducated people like those around him would pick up on the silent political support Barnett gave the Johners.

“Good heavens!” The maid circled the bed. “What do ya mean, m’lord!” She leaned in to pull up the duvet. “It’s Lady Bernett! She’s lookin' a bit pale, m’lord!”

At those words, another roar of laughter went through the crowd. It took more than the mention of someone sleeping with a corpse to make this audience uncomfortable.

“Does she?” screeched the actor playing Lord Barnett, lifting the blanket from the other side and looking at the stirring body beside his own.

“I’m afraid, she’s dead, m’lord,” the maid said, facing her stunned master.

“Just a little bit,” he reasoned with her.

*

The sun was slowly rising as they made their way home from a coffee house where they ate a second supper. Ira was happy that James enjoyed the evening, and still amused by his partner’s shock over the shameless spectacle.

“I just couldn’t comprehend they would say such things!” James laughed. “But at least we know that regular people don’t support the Johners.” They passed yet another little street where city life was slowly waking up, or rather, the city was changing shifts.

“Most of these people, they just wanna ‘ave a full belly, a full beer glass and a woman in their bed.” Ira looked at James with a small smile. “One must be crazy to wish f’death.”

“Exactly! But I was surprised to see Lord Barnett as such a prominent character in the play. He never actively promoted the Johners agenda.”

“The streets know. Ya better take a clear stand against ‘im.” Ira lit his pipe again, not caring about the dirt on his face anymore. On the bridge, they passed two tired ladies of the night as they walked to their side of the Thames.

James looked into the murky waters of the river and nodded.

“But did ya like it?” Ira studied his face with a sigh and then gently took a strand of James’ hair between his fingers. James instantly looked back at him with a slight smile.

“Yes. It was interesting. Though not my usual choice of entertainment.” The bridge was almost empty and it felt eerie when he looked down at his feet, drowning in the fog and smoke coming from God-knew-where...

“Would ya go again?” Ira took the opportunity solitude gave them to put an arm around James' shoulders. He loved how broad they were. Despite his pretty face and long hair, James definitely felt all man.

“I think I would. With you,” James said, looking into his eyes.

It only reminded Ira how happy he felt since he and James started this relationship. He pulled him closer with a sharp laugh. He was in love. “I saw Joshua yesterday.”

“Oh did you?” James smiled, and Ira felt relief wash through him that James didn’t seem upset with his care for the boy. “How is he doing?”

“All right, though I ‘ad to put in a word for him to be left alone by his former...
employer
,” he explained, shooting James a suggestive look.

He was answered with laughter as James pulled him closer by the leather jacket. “Did you beat him up, you thug?”

Ira exhaled hoarsely, looking around, but as he couldn’t see anyone around, he gave in to the temptation and kissed James’ sweet lips.

“I ‘ad my fists talkin’ to ‘er son.”

James leaned in for a short moment of stolen affection. “I better never get on your bad side,” he whispered.

“And not even a scratch!” Ira gave him a proud grin and nuzzled the side of James’ face, before resuming the walk over the bridge. James pulled away with a soft sigh and Ira’s side felt cold right away.

“Will he be all right? Joshua, I mean. He’s gone through such horrible things.”

Ira exhaled, shaking his head in acknowledgement. He didn’t want to dwell on that now that it was all over. “Ya can’t imagine. But if he did and lived, he’ll be all right,” he concluded optimistically.

“I just hope he can blend in with the boys at school. And not get spanked,” he laughed out loud all of a sudden.

Ira looked at him with a disbelieving chuckle. “What... ya lil’ shit!” He slapped James’ butt with a loud snap. “Unbelievable!”

“Sorry! I couldn’t help myself!” James grinned at him, still slightly flushed from the drinks they had.

“If ‘e‘ll be spanked, I sure ‘ope it’ll be by someone good.” Ira rolled his eyes in amusement.

“Like you?” James teased him, looking up with dark eyes.

Ira swallowed, leading him through a narrow alley. He wanted to reach their home quickly and sneak under the covers next to James’ warm body. Tomorrow was his lover's day off, which meant they could stay in bed, cuddling and fooling around until they were sated enough to satisfy a different kind of hunger. “Like I am to ya,” he finally said.

They arrived at the Terrace Mansions a few minutes later and James found a letter waiting for him at the reception desk.

“At this time, on Sunday?” he asked, looking serious when he examined the envelope. He folded it and quickly stuffed into his jacket. “Thank you.” He nodded at the doorman and proceeded towards the elevator.

“From the parliament?” asked Ira, furrowing his eyebrows. Something delivered at such an unusual hour had to be very important.

“Y—yes,” James stuttered. “I will have to leave for a while today.”

“Oh... we’re supposed to take lil’ 'enry to the park.”

“I know,” James said, and Ira noticed one of his jaw muscles twitch. “I will try to be back in the afternoon. This is just... it can’t wait I’m afraid.”

Ira blinked, easily detecting the growing tension in his partner’s body. He was, after all, the one person who could untie all those fleshy knots of James’ muscles.

“What ‘appened?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t say. It’s a political matter,” was all Ira got in an answer as they entered the elevator. This time there was an attendant inside. He didn't even ask where they were going and closed the doors, pressing the correct button. Ira bit his lip, hating the sudden loss of intimacy.

“Is it serious, my lord?” He tried to keep a polite distance and remembered to use the title in company - not an easy feat at times, with all that was happening between them in private.

“Yes, but I hope it will not take long.” James gave him a faint smile. Ira swallowed, increasingly nervous. His lover was lying.

“Are ya sure it’s all right?” he asked as soon as they left the elevator.

“Yes, yes! I just need to deal with this.” James sighed, opening their apartment with a key.

“But ya nervous.” Ira closed the door behind them and slowly slid off his shoes. They tried to be quiet to avoid waking anyone.

“It will all be all right. I’ll sort it out and come back,” James leaned into a hug in the dark corridor.

“But now ya come to bed with me?” sighed Ira, unable to stop himself from touching his lover’s warm body.

“Yes... I have a few hours.” Suddenly, James looked tired. Ira bit his lip, releasing him with hesitation. He couldn’t offer much comfort without knowing the reason for James’ distress. They then walked to their separate bedrooms only to meet in Ira’s a moment later. There was no sight of the letter in James’ hand. Ira smiled at him, lifting the covers in invitation. James’ behavior was making him nervous. He wasn’t good at hiding his emotions, but Ira didn’t want to pressure him into talking.

James shed his clothes in the pale glow of an outside lantern seeping through the curtains. “What a great night...”

“Ah, come on!” Ira kicked back the covers and crawled towards the footboard to yank his lover closer by the belt. “Sure was!”

James almost fell over face first, but managed to end up with his knees on the mattress. He went still, watching Ira from under his eyelashes. “I love you,” he said in a tender voice.

Ira swallowed, looking straight into his soft, dark eyes and laughed to cover how nervous he was. “Me too, I already told ya.” He took James into his arms, falling into bed with him, their legs intertwining.

Ira sighed in relief, feeling the weight of James' head on his chest. Content, he closed his eyes, slowly relaxing into sleep, but James’ voice brought him back to the surface.

“There aren’t a lot of things I wouldn’t do to keep this going.” It was a whisper so quiet it was barely noticeable, but it made Ira's heart clench with emotion.

“I can’t imagine anything I wouldn’t.” He bowed down, kissing the top of James’ head and gently tracing his back with a warm hand. His lover answered him with a kiss, and then another embrace and soon, they once again melted into one.

*