Blood of the City Page 3

Greg shook his head. “He supposed to be here?”

  “I thought he would be.”

  Greg looked through the crowd for his prey but couldn’t see him. He rolled his eyes in slight annoyance then knelt at Jason’s eye level. “Look, Jason. I told you. I’m not looking for strings. I just wanna have a good time.” He put his hands on Jason’s thighs and leaned up to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. He sat back on his haunches and patted his pockets for cigarettes. Finding none, he crawled up beside Jason. “You wanna talk about it? Get me a cigarette.”

  Jason nodded at a bouncer and mimed smoking. The bouncer nodded at a waiter who fumbled to hand a cigarette to Jason. But Jason just pointed at Greg then looked away.

  “Thanks,” said Greg. “Gotta light?”

  The waiter nodded and flicked on a lighter.

  Greg winked and exhaled blue smoke. “Cheers.”

  “He was acting weird this morning. I think I did something to upset him.”

  Greg inhaled again. “He’s been out of the loop for a long time, being all mysterious and brooding out in the country, right? So he’s just getting used to life in the big smoke.” Greg used the term with taunting sarcasm.

  “Shut up.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Sure…”

  Greg glanced at the exit, past the partying, semi-clad crowds of men.

  Jason let out an exasperated groan. “Just go.”

  Greg shook his head. “I don’t mind staying if you wanna talk.”

  Jason nodded. “It’s fine. I’d rather be alone anyway.”

  Greg considered his options but took one last puff, extinguished his cigarette in a passing drink and got up. “See ya later. Don’t let it get you down, though. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

  Jason nodded and waved Greg away.

  The music reverberated around Jason, and the sky above twinkled with lights. He clicked his fingers at a waiter. “Bring me a bottle of vodka,” he shouted over the din.

  He didn’t have to wait long for it and when it arrived, he all but snatched it from the waiter’s grasp, turned then strode past the security guards and bouncers to a quieter part of the roof, devoid of revelers and the din they made. Jason swung himself up onto the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the edge so he could see straight into the city. The buildings were lit up in uniform colors that contrasted with the multicolored neon dripping from the building below his feet. He unscrewed the cap of the vodka and sloshed it back, staring through the viscous liquid to the night sky beyond. It left a burning trail down his throat to his gut.

  Music drifted around him and merged with the traffic far below. The air smelled floral, crisp and fresh off the harbor. Jason stretched his bare legs and wriggled the large white sneakers he had on. His legs were covered in fine, blond hairs that glowed neon in the lights. His shorts strained around his bulge and cheeks and his chest was bare, but he didn’t feel the cold. He didn’t feel anything as he sat and drank away his fears.

  With a swig that took him halfway down the bottle, he jerked as his heart thumped with life. Almost dropping his drink, he clutched at his chest in panic, but his heart didn’t start again. He ran his hand over his skin, but he was still cold. His cheeks felt flushed, perhaps from vodka, but he ignored them and turned back toward the crowd. Weaving among them was the man he had loved for almost a century, dressed as he had been when they’d parted that evening.

  Mack’s skin was flushed and there was a splatter of something dark across his shoulder. The closer he came to Jason, the stronger the smell of blood became, and by the time they could embrace, Jason knew the blood was human.

  As they kissed, Mack pressed against Jason, his cock in a state of semi-arousal. They kissed once more and their hearts made their first leaps back to life, but Jason used the opportunity to smell his lover’s cheek, sense the sweat, the unidentified blood, the underlying stench of another man’s semen. The realization made his cheeks flush further. He pulled away in shock.

  “Where did you go?” Jason touched his fingers to his lips.

  Mack just shrugged and pulled him in for another kiss. “Nowhere,” he said.

  But Jason extricated himself from the embrace and sat with his back to the city, bottle at his feet. “I can smell him on you.”

  Mack seemed to be considering what to say next. He opened and closed his mouth in indecision, but his eyes revealed his betrayal before his words could. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Jason shook his head and took another swig. “It’s fine,” he lied. “Who was he?”

  “No one.”

  Jason pursed his lips and sighed. “Is this why you were acting weird this morning? Because you were going to cheat on me?”

  Mack slumped. “No, I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t something I planned to do.”

  “Oh, you just fell on someone else’s dick, did you?” Jason’s tone was sharp and catty.

  Mack appeared in shock, but tried to keep it together. “That’s not really fair.”

  “Oh, it’s not fair? I’m sorry I’m not being fair when you’ve gone and cheated on me.”

  “Stop it,” said Mack.

  “No, I won’t stop it,” said Jason.

  “Just shut up! You’re the one who was sleeping with Greg. You’re the one who cheated on me in the first place and—”

  Jason clenched his fists with rage at Mack’s outburst.

  “You’re the one who keeps making me feel like garbage for not fitting in well enough,” Mack went on.

  “That’s not what I’ve been doing at all. I’ve been helping you and, for the record, I thought you were dead when I did that and you slept with Greg, too, so don’t throw that in my face every time you want me to feel guilty.” Jason raised his fist as if to strike Mack. “So just shut the fuck—”

  He tried to say something else when a huge crash resounded from the side of the building, followed by something falling with a sick thud and glass tinkling to the road below. A car swerved, crashed and horns sounded. The overall noise of the street rose to compete with that of the club, and those on the outer parts of the crowd broke through the barricade to run to Mack and Jason’s side and peer over the edge at what had happened.

  Jason and Mack did the same.

  A body sprawled on the street. It was crumpled, as if an empty shell, and blood was splattered on the road around it. It was naked and its eyes were open, staring up at the sky.

  Jason recognized Greg in a second. Even broken and still as he was, there was no mistaking his slim frame and fuzz of ginger hair. He gasped in shock. “Greg,” he said.

  Mack leaned farther out and pointed at the shattered remains of a window on a lower floor. “He threw himself out the window.”

  “No, he didn’t,” said Jason. “He wouldn’t. He must’ve been pushed.” Jason ran back through the crowd, making for the exit and maintenance elevator to the side of the club. He ran past brooms and mops, boiler suits and buckets to the elevator doors, pressing the button and waiting.

  Mack was right behind him, trying to clasp his hand and comfort him, but Jason broke away as soon as the doors slid open. The two of them got in and waited for it to deliver them to the right floor. When they got out, the young man that Greg had been preying on was running the other way down the hall. Blood poured from his neck and down his back. His shirt was torn off and revealed his muscular torso.

  “Hey!” Jason yelled and started sprinting after him. “Stop!” Mack in tow, Jason closed the gap between him and the young man, tackling him to his knees and slamming his head against the floor.

  “You killed Greg,” Jason said. He raised a fist and started to cry. “Why’d you kill him?”

  The young man flinched. “He tried to kill me first,” he said. His eyes were wide and glassy, pupils dilated from whatever cocktail of drugs he’d taken earlier. He jitter
ed under Jason’s grip.

  Mack grabbed Jason’s shoulder and stopped him from landing the punch. “Stop it. You need to calm down.”

  Jason tore away from his lover’s touch and roared. His face and body sprouted dark hair and his skin deepened to the color of the night. He fingers sprouted claws and his shorts tore apart with amassing muscle.

  Mack took a faltering step back, and Jason snarled in the whimpering man’s face. “Jason, please stop,” he said.

  The addled man let out a tiny whimper and wet himself with fear. His urine soaked his jeans and spread through the carpet. He scrambled to get away, but Jason slammed a monstrous paw on his chest and kept him squirming in place like an insect on a pin. “Why should I stop?” asked Jason. His words were strange, coming from his dingo-like face. “Tell me, Mack? For you?” He tried to laugh, but his muzzle didn’t really accommodate the expression, so he growled instead.

  “Yes, for me, but for you too. We’re not killers, Jason.”

  Jason growled again. “Yes, we are. We’re vampires. We’re literally cold-blooded killers. We need blood to survive.”

  “Not human blood.”

  “Yes, human blood! I want human blood. I want his blood.” Jason pressed his paw on the chest of the man, eliciting a crack of bone and a scream of pain.

  “No, you don’t. You need—”

  “How could you know what I need?” Jason said.

  “I love you.”

  “You’re cheating on me.”

  Mack almost laughed. “What are you—?”

  The man started screaming. His voice echoed through the hall, broadcasting pained gibberish to anyone who cared to listen.

  Jason pressed harder, cracking more bones, but it only intensified the noise. He sneered and snarled, bared his teeth and in one smooth motion, ripped the victim’s throat out. Blood shot across the stark white wall and splattered over the carpet. The body shuddered with death throes. He tried to speak but just gurgled blood through his teeth. Mack ran forward and shoved Jason off, trying to staunch the flow of blood with his hands, but it was fruitless.

  Jason reverted to his human form and stood shaking beside the devastation. A door unlocked and he snapped his neck around in shock. “We’ve gotta go,” he said, dragging Mack to his feet. “Now.” He ran for Greg’s room then shoved open the door. When the two of them were safe inside, he slammed it shut. Wind blew through the broken glass, rustling the stillness of the space.

  Jason staggered to the window and stared at the corpse on the street.

  “Is he healing?” Mack asked.

  Jason shook his head. “He’s still dead.”

  “He can’t be dead. He’s a vampire.”

  “Well, he is! Look for yourself,” Jason pointed.

  The two of them stared as an ambulance and police car trundled up. Two officers got out and covered the body with a sheet before craning up to see where he’d fallen from. Mack and Jason pulled their heads inside to hide.

  “Maybe it’s because he was alive again. Maybe that’s when we’re vulnerable,” said Mack. “He’d fed, right?”

  “Does it really matter?” Jason said.

  Mack shook his head. “I guess not.” Mack grasped Jason’s hand. “What do we do now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How can we explain this mess?” Mack asked.

  Jason dropped his head and started to sob. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He took a shuddering breath in. “Why’d you cheat on me?” he said, eyes shimmering with tears. “I thought you loved me.”

  “I do,” said Mack. “I do love you.”

  “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  Mack let out a small sound of exasperation. “What does that mean? You just killed someone to avenge Greg dying. Your lover, remember? I don’t think it’s really fair for you to be angry at me. I’m not doing so good. I just… I dunno. I think I need some time.”

  “But you’ve had time! Decades of it, in fact, in which you could have been looking for me—but you didn’t.”

  “Not this again. When Zoran took you, he said he’d kill you if I came looking. I was trying not to get you killed.”

  “You could’ve tried to rescue me.”

  Mack didn’t respond.

  “You know, when you finally appeared out of nowhere, it was amazing, like a goddamn dream come true. But I don’t know if I got you back at all, really. And tell me who you’re fucking sleeping with!”

  “I already said it was no one.”

  Jason shook his head and his nose elongated and darkened. He crouched beside Mack and sniffed his skin and hair. Shocked at what he found, he stumbled back then sat against the wall, his face returning to normal. “Sparky,” he said. “I know his smell.”

  “Why? Have you slept with him too?”

  “Fucking hell, Mack. I’m not on trial here. You did something wrong. Fucking own it. This isn’t fair. Greg’s dead, you’re cheating on me and I dunno what to do. It’s all just turning to shit.”

  Mack sighed and looked at Greg. “I think we need some space, Jason. From each other.”

  “You said that already! But we’ve already had an unfathomable amount of time apart.”

  Mack flicked a glance at Jason’s hands, still balled into fists, still bloody with the remains of the human he’d just killed. “I think we need more.”

  “We?”

  “Me. I-I need more,” said Mack. “I need to know who I am, now that I’m free. I need to leave for me, I think. I’ve got things to figure out.”

  “Don’t say that,” said Jason, clutching Mack’s hand again. “Please. I’ll get over it. Just don’t leave again. I don’t wanna lose you again.”

  “You won’t lose me,” Mack said as he stood. “I’ll come back.” He pulled off his shirt and jeans, shaking his body out of its human shape and into that of a large black bird. He opened his new beak and his voice came out. “I still love you, Jason.”

  Jason’s lip quivered but Mack jumped from the window and swooped over the street and into the night. Jason followed suit and transmogrified before flying out the window. He ignored the terrified pointing of people on the street and flew straight down to grasp Greg’s body in his talons and steal it away into the night. Shouts and gunshots sounded after him, but the body was in his grip, and he wasn’t going to let go.

  Chapter Three

  Awakening

  Mack’s sense of sight was diminished in his new form but with a great echoing cry, he could comprehend his surroundings with ease. Seagulls flew through the night as his accompaniment, plucking small fish from just below the surface of the water below. The rolling waves ebbed and flowed over the walls of Sydney’s coastline, beating between the northern and southern sides of the city in an endless continuum, broken only by the intermittent islands between. Mack flapped again and dove for an island closer to the formidable heads that protected this new city from the harsh ocean beyond. As he approached the rocky coast, his body began to lose its fur and his arms and legs shrank back to their usual pale selves. He landed barefoot on a dry granite slab then took a couple of steps. The rock glistened with the reflection of the glittering city beyond. The Sydney Harbor Bridge was a great arch of steel and light, connecting the small but proud city of Sydney with the growing district of North Sydney. The office buildings were lit up like cold monoliths to long days at work and their image was reflected in the darkened water, almost reaching the island upon which Mack had landed.

  Mack sat on the cold stone, feeling the grains stick to his slick, sweaty buttocks. He put his head in his hands and tried to forget the argument from which he’d fled. Waves lapped below him, sending rhythmic motions through his body and calming his mind. He gazed at the stars above, tracing the Big Dipper and the great Southern Cross with his mind’s eye, wondering whether the stars looke
d the same all over the vast world. He watched the seagulls and listened to the calls of the ibis as they screeched in the trees at his back, and he felt a moment of peace. Nothing like the happiness of the cattle station he had long left behind, but an outer solitude to match his internal sorrow that gave him cause to feel, just for a moment, like he was home.

  With gradual stealth, the cries of the wildlife around Jason grew quiet then silent, leaving him at the mercy of the droning waves, the wind against his skin and a mysterious flapping that grew ever louder. It was a moment before Mack registered the new sound, then stood to peer into the night sky, looking for its source. All around him, the air was devoid of life, but the flapping continued. He darted to the edge of the rock to start preparing to change back into a form that he could use to fight or fly, but before he could begin his transmogrification, a white mass appeared in his periphery. It grew ever larger as it approached, until Mack could see the shape of an enormous, feathered bird, something like a parrot, white as the moon with a stripe of yellow running down the middle of its head. Mack stared in wonder. The bird was slightly larger than a man, its wingspan wider than that of four men, but its face was what gave it away. Feathered and with a slight beak, it was unmistakably humanoid and therefore, Mack knew, his brethren.

  Mack took a step back, grounding himself in a defensive posture. His muscles flexed in preparation and he tensed his hands into fists, raising them to shoulder-height. The bird circled, gazing down at him like an angel before starting its descent. Enormous, pale wings swept over Mack’s head and onto the rocky shore behind him. He ducked involuntarily and followed its path. It landed then took a couple of ungainly strides, but Mack could see the transformation at work. Even as he watched, the bird’s legs lengthened and thickened to become smooth, muscular human legs. The feathers shrank into similarly defined arms and the body into a male torso. The pale crest of sulfuric feathers on the bird’s head grew out into a soft, curly mop that tickled his back between his shoulder blades. The newcomer clenched his body and faced Mack, grinning with a smile that seemed to hold a great many secrets. His face was rough and rugged, with a strong nose, full lips and dark brown eyes that shone with familiarity and crinkled with lines when he smiled.