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Daniel smoked his cigarette, holding it between his fingers, sometimes with his hand on his table so Armand wouldn’t see the slight shake. As if he couldn’t hear the hammer of Daniel’s heart against his ribs or hear his thoughts. As if he could hide his nerves from his immortal stalker. Armand knew everything about him.
“Do you buy into it?” Daniel asked, nodding at the rose in the vase that had sparked this conversation on the nature of modern love and Valentine’s Day. Armand was obsessed with holidays and this was no exception.
“Romance?” Armand asked. He swept a russet curl out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. Such a human gesture. It captivated Daniel how human he could look.
“Yeah. You know, the flowers, chocolates, rings.” He reached across the table and tapped Armand’s hand, touching the cool metal of one of the rings that dotted his pale fingers. A small jolt ran through him as their skin connected.
Armand stared and Daniel pulled his hand back. Daniel was less afraid of him than he probably should be these days. Oh, he was fully aware Armand might kill him. He wasn’t naive. But what really terrified him was the thought that Armand might find him lacking and disappear into the night, never to be seen again. Three years into this game of hide and seek, and Daniel often found himself wanting to hold the vampire’s attention.
“Is that all romance is to modern men? Gifts?” Armand asked.
Daniel snorted. “What was it in your time? Reciting poetry under your beloved’s balcony? Writing tawdry love letters?”
Armand was silent long enough for Daniel to finish his cigarette and the rest of his drink. He waved to the waiter for another and lit another cigarette.
Finally, Armand said, “I imagine it’s much the same as it’s always been. A passion for another, a deep affection for them. The things you list are simply tokens of that affection.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Daniel said, around the cigarette in his mouth. He pulled it from his lips. “Valentine’s Day is just about the tokens. It’s a Hallmark holiday to sell cards and flowers and lingerie.”
Armand stared past Daniel, to a spot behind his shoulder. “Did you ever receive lingerie for Valentine’s Day?”
Heat flared in Daniel’s cheeks. What a thing to ask! “I’m a guy,” Daniel said.
“Does that matter?” He looked convincingly genuine.
The server brought Daniel’s fresh cocktail and he took a deep drink. “It’s just not something guys usually get.”
“No? What a shame. You would look pretty in lace.”
Now Daniel’s cheeks were aflame and he ducked his head as he stabbed his cigarette butt against the ceramic ashtray. “Yeah, yeah. What about you?”
“I look stunning in lace, of course. It was the fashion for a time, you know.”
Daniel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “No, I mean, what kinds of things did you get for Valentine’s Day?”
Armand dropped his hands on the formica table. His auburn hair was long and curled around his face, making him appear angelic in the dim light of the diner. He didn’t answer.
“What about those rings of yours?” Daniel nodded at his hands. “Are any of them from past loves?”
Armand removed his hands from the table. Shame. Daniel liked looking at his hands, pale with small but capable fingers, adorned with enough rings he could be royalty. He liked thinking about things those hands had done to him and could do again. He pictured Armand’s hands around him and his cheeks blazed hotter, blood thrumming his ears.
“What do men typically receive?”
Daniel blinked, having lost the trail of conversation while he was consumed with illicit thoughts. “What?”
“You said they don’t get lingerie. What do they get?”
Daniel shrugged. “Depends, I guess. I think the onus of gifts is usually on the man for this one. We buy the chocolates and flowers.”
“And if the couple is two men?”
Daniel looked around nervously and lowered his voice. “I don’t know, Armand, it depends on the couple, okay? You get something you think your partner will like. It’s just a gesture.”
Armand smiled faintly. “You seem so agitated, Daniel. What’s gotten you so worked up?”
Daniel huffed out a breath. He finished this cigarette and stubbed it out. He twisted his glass in his hands, watching the ice swirl around. “What do you want me to say? It’s a ridiculous holiday. Back when I was in school, it was torture. Everyone always expected the people they liked to get them gifts and ask them out, even if they’d never gone on a date or anything, and every year, you could feel the disappointment radiating through the halls. I hated it.”
Armand titled his head. “Because no one courted your attention?”
Daniel gave Armand a level look. “Is that what you think of me? I wasn’t a loser.” He took another swig of his drink. “I’m just saying, it’s a holiday that exists to create expectations to sell stuff and that inevitably leads to people getting let down. It’s not about love. It’s about selling chocolate in heart-shaped boxes.”
Armand reached out and touched the rose in the vase in the center of the table, his finger brushing over the soft petals. His fingernails gleamed in the light, glassy and neatly manicured. Such pretty fingers. They could do magical things to Daniel’s naked body and they had, but there was this strange unspoken rule that they never acknowledge the things they’d done. What happened in a dark motel room at 3 am with a vampire stayed between you and the devil. He laughed at the thought.
Armand’s eyebrow rose. Daniel turned his head, unsure if Armand had heard those thoughts. He was always in and out of his head and Daniel never knew what he heard and what passed him by.
“So what is love?” Armand asked.
Daniel turned back to him. He looked so beautiful, with his auburn hair curling around his pale face, his wide amber eyes. He didn’t look much younger than Daniel but there was a strange innocence about him, at least until you caught a flash of fang.
“What kind of question is that?” Daniel asked.
“I want to understand what love means in this modern era. Is it desire? Obsession? The need to possess?”
Daniel blinked, uncertain. “Infatuation is obsession. Love is something else.” But then, he wasn’t sure where infatuation ended and love began. He looked at Armand across the table and tried to parse how he felt about him: desperate with desire and full of confusion about whether he should want it, want him. About what it meant to be eager for the touch of a demon. He took a large swig of his drink.
“Have you ever been in love?” Armand asked.
Daniel nearly choked. Armand stared at him expectantly. He sighed and lit another cigarette. “There was this guy in my broadcast communications class my first year of college. He was good-looking, smart, funny. He had really soft brown hair and pretty eyes. We went out a few times. I thought he liked me as much as I liked him.” Daniel tapped his cigarette against the ashtray, watching the ash crumble off the tip. “But then the semester ended and he stopped returning my calls. When school started again in the fall, I learned he’d gotten into a relationship with someone else.” Daniel shrugged. “Broke my heart. But looking back I think it was more a schoolboy crush than love.”
Armand titled his head again and Daniel felt a weird pressure in his head. Armand trying to rifle through his thoughts. He thought of the boy he’d believed he’d loved just to show Armand a clear picture and the pressure faded.
“What about you? How many times in your many centuries have you been in love?”
Armand pressed his lips together in a tight line.
“Come on, there had to be someone before Louis. Several someones, if I had to guess.”
Armand said nothing. Daniel finished his drink, trying to wait him out and see if he’d give him anything. Sometimes Armand would tell him little bits and pieces about his past, but it was rare and he had to be in the right mood.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” Daniel finally said, irritated. “Instead tell me what love means to you, a creature who lives forever. You carry it with you, don’t you?”
Armand frowned. Daniel knew he’d hit on something but of course, Armand was unwilling to share.
“I tried to tell Louis, you know. That he could go back to you. That you’d welcome him back into your arms.”
Armand’s face changed, going blank. His eyes went hard. Daniel’s heart pounded against his ribs. He could shift from an innocent young man to a fearsome predator so quickly. “Do not speak of things you have no right to.” His voice was low, warning.
Daniel's pulse raced. “I’m just trying to figure you out. I know you feel love, much as you might want to pretend otherwise.” The quip was pointed. Armand’s expression remained hard, impassive. Daniel sighed. “Fine, forget it.”
He waved down the waiter, who brought his bill. He counted cash onto the table, Armand silently watching him the whole time. Daniel stood and left.
He went down the block and turned the corner before stopping to see if Armand would follow. He wasn’t sure if he should want that—Armand had looked dangerous, angry—but part of him did, anyway. When Armand didn’t appear, Daniel sighed and went back to his hotel room.
He was pulling off his shirt when the door opened. Daniel swore. “Can’t you knock?” he demanded, even as relief washed over him. Despite everything, he was glad Armand was there.
Armand said nothing. Daniel removed his shirt and went into the bathroom to wash his face. He ran a comb through his short blond hair and then swished around some mouthwash for good measure. When he came out, Armand was sitting on the bed, looking around the room.
The hotel room was nice enough. Better than a lot of the crummy motels Daniel often found himself in.
“Love is not the same for our kind,” Armand said firmly. “It is a means to an end. We desire the company of others for safety.”
Daniel laughed. Armand frowned.
“That’s bullshit. I heard the way Louis spoke of you, of Lestat…” Daniel paused. Strange to speak of them when he and Armand so rarely did, and even then, it was usually only in context of the book. Armand was reluctant to speak of his own experiences or history with either of them beyond what Louis had told him. “There was love there.”
Armand scoffed. “You heard a fairytale.”
Daniel shook his head. “I don’t believe you. The reality is, you feel things deeply and that scares you. I’ve seen the passion in your eyes. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
Daniel immediately wished he could reel the worlds back into his mouth. This was crossing a line. Sure, they kissed and touched occasionally, but it just happened and speaking of it felt verboten. He stared at Armand, his pulse racing even as his blood inconveniently flowed to his cock.
Armand’s expression softened slightly and tension eased out of Daniel’s shoulders.
“I’m not an idiot,” Daniel continued. “I don’t think you love me or anything. But I refuse to believe you’re not capable of love even if you deny it to yourself.”
He watched Armand’s face carefully but he remained statue still, not moving. Daniel’s heart hammered.
Finally, Armand spoke. “You should tread carefully, Daniel. You’re flirting with death.”
“I’m flirting with a dead guy, that’s a little different,” he said, smiling.
Armand finally cracked, his face softening. He beckoned Daniel to him and Daniel obeyed. He knelt in front of Armand, who caressed his cheek with his cool fingers. He pressed his lips to Daniel’s forehead. It was so gentle, his lips so soft. Daniel tried to kiss him and Armand put his finger over his lips.
“Stand up,” Armand said and Daniel practically leapt to his feet. Armand undid his belt, tossing it aside, and fingers deftly working the fly of his jeans. He pulled them down and Daniel stepped out of them, leaving him in blue briefs and socks.
His cock strained against his cotton underwear, hardening as Armand grabbed it through the fabric and stroked it. Daniel moaned. He wanted Armand to stroke him faster, harder, to spill all over his pale fingers. Or better yet, use that mouth of his. He loved the feeling of his fangs scraping against the tender skin of his groin.
Armand let go of him and stood, pressing his body against Daniel’s. He kissed his cheek.
It’s lust you feel for me now, not love, Armand said silently, right into Daniel’s head.
It’s more than that, Daniel thought back. He wanted him carnally, he couldn’t deny that. And who could blame him? But that wasn't all.
Armand kissed him, his tongue cool in the heat of Daniel’s mouth. No mortal’s mouth felt like that, cold and strange. Daniel kissed him back, trying to demonstrate his passion, his desire. Armand was beautiful and sexy as hell, but he was also smart and fascinating and funny. Daniel’s ever present immortal shadow. He felt strangely lost when Armand wasn’t around.
Armand pulled back from the kiss. He slid his hand beneath the elastic waistband of Daniel’s underwear and grabbed his cock again. He wrapped his silken fingers around him and stroked. Daniel’s breaths became ragged as Armand worked him, his vision swimming. His skin was like marble and yet his hand felt like velvet as it moved up and down his length. Daniel thrust into his touch, increasing the friction, desperate for release.
Armand leaned forward, and Daniel thought he might bite his throat. The thought sent a jolt of desire through him, hot and desperate. He wanted his fangs in his neck, to feel their hearts beating together as Armand drank from him.
But Armand merely leaned his forehead against Daniel’s shoulder as he worked him, stroking and caressing him with increased speed, face buried against him. Daniel closed his eyes as Armand’s cool, silken hand worked his throbbing cock. Armand moved from his shoulder and Daniel opened his eyes to see Armand’s attention focused on his underpants.
“God, you’re so good at this,” Daniel breathed, the sensation building as he squeezed Daniel’s cock and then slid it up and down him again.
Daniel thrust into his hand as the pressure built, Armand’s motions quick and skilled. This was what he wanted, the eagerness of his touch, the softness of his skin against Daniel’s. He bucked his hips and moaned as those hands worked their magic. Daniel tried to make it last but the pleasure overwhelmed him. He came suddenly all over Armand’s hand, inside of his underwear.
He panted, leaning against Armand. He groaned when Armand let him go and pulled his hand out, but what did he expect, for him to hold his dick all night? Armand disappeared into the bathroom to clean up, leaving Daniel standing there in his messy underwear, helpless and spent.
Armand came out and looked him over, gaze moving over him like a physical caress. “See? Lust.”
Daniel scoffed. “That’s not fair. You can’t grab my dick and then use it against me when I react. That doesn’t mean that’s all I feel.”
“No,” Armand came closer, expression hard and dangerous again. He flashed his fangs and heat rushed through Daniel, heart pounding harder, though not really in fear. He still wanted to feel them sink into his skin, to feel that connection with Armand. Armand pressed his finger to the center of Daniel’s throat. He stopped breathing.
Armand used his fingernail to trace a line down Daniel’s chest, over his abdomen, to his belly button. “I can hear your heart pounding, Daniel. I can smell the blood under the scent of your lust and sweat.” He leaned close and whispered, “I can imagine how it would taste on my tongue as I drank from you until your heart stopped. Is that what you desire?”
Yes. No. God, you make it sound so…
“You would be dead. You should remember that. You may feel lust, but deep down, what you feel is fear.”
He turned and left the room before Daniel could say anything else. Daniel stood there, his chest tight, head swimming with confusion. Of course he felt lust! And yea, okay, there was an edge of fear, because Armand might very well kill him—What a way to go! God, Molloy, you’re helpless!
He opened the door but the hallway was empty. Armand was long gone.
He swore. He wanted to tell him that he did feel fear, but it was a fear that Armand would leave him for good. That he would be left to live out his mortal existence unable to reach the world of the supernatural ever again. That he would never see or speak to Armand again.
Panic ran through him, cold and bracing.
These were foolish, pathetic thoughts. The vampire was hundreds of years old. Daniel had no doubt he could feel love and desire, but putting his hands down Daniel’s pants was hardly a show of such love. Maybe he only did it to get Daniel to behave. Or freak him out. Maybe it was a test, and Daniel had failed. Maybe he was getting bored of these little trysts and was planning to end it.
He sat on the bed, filthy and miserable, staring at the wall until he came to a decision.
He needed to leave this place as soon as the sun rose and put more distance between him and the vampire. He needed to keep running.