Encounters with Evil Pt. 03

"I asked a question to you," she said, her voice heavily accented. Spanish was obviously her native language.

Tigger became aware that he was staring at her, his mouth agape. "Consuela?" he asked. She didn't acknowledge him but continued to glare menacingly. "Uh ... I'm Tigger—er—Melvin." He stuck out his hand automatically but was relieved when she ignored it. Somehow he felt that her touch would be ice-cold, like the demon's. His outstretched hand was shaking and he quickly pulled it back and rested it on the counter behind him.

"And what are you doing here?" she demanded.

Somehow "getting a cup of coffee" did not seem like the answer she wanted, and Tigger was pretty sure she didn't have a sense of humor. "I ... uh...." He wasn't sure how much he could or should tell her and he definitely didn't trust her. "Can you ask Guy that question?" he squeaked.

"I most certainly will." Her glare intensified. "Don't you dare get the floors dirty," she added.

Tigger almost burst into laughter at the absurdity of that comment, coming from someone he was sure delved in the dark arts. He managed to subdue his outburst; she might turn him into something unnatural if he laughed at her. At that moment Tigger became aware that she was holding a feather duster. Oh, she's Guy's housekeeper! He finally put the pieces together. The relief he felt at realizing this did nothing to ease the sense he had that she was evil.

"Oh, uh, Guy already warned me about the floors," he said.

She peered at him closely and he felt like she was sorting through his thoughts. A shiver went up his spine. Cripes! He wasn't sure what his expression was, or maybe she really could read his thoughts because she said, "You're a scrawny, nervous thing, aren't you?"

Tigger's mouth dropped open. Scrawny? I'm small, but I'm not scrawny. Nervous? Well, at the moment, yeah, but I'm not a 'thing!" He kept all those thoughts to himself as he watched her turn and make her way out the door, heavily favoring her left leg.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. She hadn't bewitched him yet, he didn't think. Maybe she was just a housekeeper. At least she wasn't Guy's girlfriend, that much was clear. A small smile played around his lips as he turned back around and finished making himself a cup of coffee. Chapter Eleven

Tigger sat at the breakfast nook and watched the mist coalesce over the water, the fog burning off to reveal a bright blue sky overhead. Mt. Rainier became visible at the far end of the lake. The sight was breathtaking. The mist-shrouded lake stretched out in the foreground and the magnificent mountain rose out of the fog in the distance, the sun reflecting in shades of pink off its snowy peaks. Eventually the fog burned off from over the lake and the snow brightened to a brilliant white, but the view was no less incredible.

Tigger had found a book to read from the shelf in the living room, but he had only looked at a few pages. The scenery was too captivating and his thoughts were whirling with recent events. In spite of how frightening the vampire had been, visions of Guy as he burst through the door to rescue him—grim and invincible and sexy as sin— dominated his reflection.

He was hungry but he wanted to wait for Guy to join him for breakfast. He wondered what was taking him so long. Ten o'clock had come and gone. Tigger had silently checked to make sure he hadn't missed him, that he wasn't already in his bedroom. He kept a wary eye out for Consuela while he moved about the house. She was nowhere to be seen and he couldn't help feeling that she'd magicked herself away somewhere and might suddenly reappear at his elbow, or maybe she had just turned herself invisible and was standing silently right next to him at that very moment. He glanced around the room, shivering even though the sun shining through the window had warmed the kitchen nicely.

His stomach growled and he decided he shouldn't put off breakfast any longer. Either Guy would make it home in time to eat or he wouldn't. Tigger carefully steered his mind away from the worry that he might not come home at all.

He was just finishing frying up a batch of bacon and was getting ready to cook some scrambled eggs when he heard the swish of the elevator door. He tensed, sucking in a deep breath. He wasn't sure if it was Guy or Consuela—or even someone else. He spun to face the hallway, one eye searching the kitchen for something he could use as a weapon.

Almost immediately Guy stuck his head through the door, "Hey Consu—!" He cut himself off abruptly and a big grin spread across his face. "You cook!"

Tigger's heart didn't slow its pace, but rather sped up, hammering away for an entirely different reason. Guy's smile was like the sun coming out after a winter of endless rain. He couldn't help but beam back. "Not much. Mainly just breakfast."

"So I guess I shouldn't let Consuela go just yet," Guy said.

"Not if you know what's good for you." Consuela's voice suddenly came from right behind Tigger. He started and whirled to face her. She hadn't left after all, but where had she been this whole time?

She shook a bony finger at him. "Don't you mess up my kitchen," she warned. "I expect everything back in its place when you're done."

"Y ... yes, ma'am," Tigger replied automatically, trying not to stare at her scarred face and drooping eye.

Guy chuckled. "I see you've met Consuela. She's a pretty useless housekeeper, really. Her main strategy seems to be to badger you to clean up after yourself so that she doesn't have to."

"Hey, it works doesn't it?" Consuela said, her thin lips turning up slightly. "The house stays clean and you learn how to clean up after yourself. I think it's a win-win."

Tigger was shocked to hear her bantering good-naturedly with Guy, and even more shocked by the almost-smile. He hadn't thought she was capable.

"Mujer perezosa," Guy mumbled.

"Just for that, you can do your own breakfast dishes," she said. Casting a smug glance at Tigger, she added, "Or get your little boy toy to do them for you."

Tigger's hot retort was interrupted by a low growl from Guy. Both Tigger and Consuela looked at him in surprise. Tigger had been offended by her comment, but Guy appeared to be furious. He looked like he was about to bite Consuela's head off—literally.

Tigger's attention shifted back to Consuela who was regarding Guy with amusement. She didn't look a bit afraid. "Oi, he despertado el toro!" she said softly. "Eres muy protectiva del hombrecito." She looked at Tigger. "I am sorry if I offended you."

Tigger was surprised that she sounded sincere, and he had the distinct impression that apologies from her were rare indeed. Without waiting for a response from him, she slipped out the door, surprisingly agile on her gimp leg.

Tigger and Guy stared at each other. For some reason Tigger couldn't look away and Guy seemed in the same state. For a brief moment something flickered in Guy's eye. His stony façade dropped away and he looked almost vulnerable. They heard the swish of the elevator doors and it broke the spell. Guy went to the table and sank into a chair with a small sigh.

Tigger noticed he looked haggard—like he'd been through an ordeal. Of course he hadn't slept yet and he'd had a shootout with a vampire, but it seemed like something more. He had shrugged off the vampire Encounter almost immediately after it had happened, as if it were an everyday occurrence. Maybe for him it was. Tigger suspected that something else had upset him. He wanted to ask about it, but didn't think Guy would tell him and probably wouldn't appreciate the questions. "Do you want breakfast?" he asked instead. "How do you like your eggs?"

"Yes, thank you. Over easy." Guy gave Tigger a brief smile and some of the tension left his shoulders.

*****

Guy watched Mel move around his kitchen, making toast and finishing up the eggs. It gave him a warm feeling in his stomach to have him there. He felt almost like he was a kid again, watching his mother make breakfast for him. There was something very comforting about Mel's presence.

When Mel reached up into the cupboard to retrieve the honey, he had to stretch. As he did so his shirt rode up revealing a strip of bare ivory skin above the waistband of his tight jeans. Guy took in his toned abs and the slenderness of his torso. He pictured himself wrapping his large hands all the way around Mel's tiny waist. His mouth went bone-dry and the pleasant warmth that had settled in his stomach flared into a burning desire so hot it threatened to incinerate him.

Fuck! He tried to keep himself from panting. When Mel turned around and looked at him his eyes widened.

What is he seeing on my face? Guy immediately pulled his expression back to his usual cold mask while he fought to get his heart rate under control. He felt like he was no longer in charge of his own body. It was unnerving.

The Evaluation he had just undergone had disturbed him. Evaluations were always unpleasant. They would administer a drug to make him more cooperative, and then Ed would proceed with a grueling two-hour session of questions and answers while they measured everything from his heart rate to his brain waves to the level of perspiration on the surface of his skin. When they were over, he always felt like he'd been mentally raped.

This time was worse than usual because he was pretty sure they had found something wrong with him. Ed had not shared the results and he suspected that his employer didn't really know the cause of the problem. It was clear to everyone that he was going crazy over Melvin. Ed had admitted that he thought it was a side-affect of Guy's vampire-enhanced abilities. Not for the first time Guy cursed his bad luck. Sometimes it was definitely an asset to be faster than anyone else, to see better with his one real eye, to hear better, smell better, taste better, touch better ... all of his senses were enhanced. But sometimes it seemed like a curse. With this latest development—his obsession with Mel—he couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse. He was leaning toward curse.

In any case, Ed must have decided he wasn't dangerous because he was letting him continue with his regular activities but had set an appointment for another Evaluation in two-weeks. Guy groaned inwardly.

The toast popped up and Tigger plated and delivered breakfast to the table, setting out butter and honey for Guy to add to his own toast. Guy murmured thanks and dug in. The disquietude he had felt since his Evaluation was starting to fade, his stomach had settled, and he was starving.

Mel smiled at him as he sat down with his own plate. They ate in silence for a few minutes and then Mel asked, "Did you get Jon taken care of?"

More questions! Guy scowled at him and was immediately sorry when the young man's expression slid to hurt and he lowered his eyes. "I guess so," he answered contritely. "He's going to stay with the bartender, Brad, at least for a night or two, and then maybe at his sister's. I don't want him going back by the apartment."

"Oh," Mel said, his expression unreadable. "Brad's okay. He has a crush on Jon, I think. Jon likes him, but...." He trailed off, looking sheepish. "Why am I babbling on about Jon? He'll be fine with Brad. Did you get my stuff?"

"No." Guy wasn't sure what to tell Mel about that. He pushed his plate away, his hunger suddenly gone.

"No?" Mel sounded surprised. "When are you going to go get it?"

"I'm not," Guy answered shortly.

Mel raised his eyebrows. "Why not?" he demanded.

Guy glared at him. He didn't want to tell Mel that Valjevo had destroyed his apartment. His natural defense against questions was surliness.

Mel narrowed his eyes. "Guy, what happened? Why won't you go get my stuff?"

"Well..." Guy stood and walked to the window, buying time, gazing out across the glittering lake. But he had to tell Mel something and he couldn't lie to him about this. "I don't think you have much left," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Mel moved to stand next to him, looking up at him. Guy stared resolutely out the window, not wanting to meet Mel's eyes. His brain felt numb; he could not think of a single way to break the news to him gently.

"What happened?" Mel demanded, grabbing Guy's arm and trying to pull him around. Guy felt Mel's hand burning into his skin. The young man's scent hit him like a sledgehammer. A sudden vision consumed him: his angel, naked underneath him, looking up at him with hunger in his pale eyes. Stifling a groan, he jerked away and stepped back, trying to channel his desire into anger.

"Valjevo shredded all your stuff," he said coldly. Then he spun on his heel and fled downstairs to the sanctuary of his bedroom. Mel's tantalizing scent followed him.

*****

Tigger was more than frustrated. He was also restless, bored, and horny as hell. He had been at Guy's house for almost three weeks now, but he seldom saw the elusive vampire hunter. There were no pleasant evenings spent hanging out by the fire, no afternoons cuddling on the couch in front of a movie, no long walks on the beach. He got the distinct impression that Guy was trying to avoid him.

He couldn't avoid him entirely, of course. They usually had dinner together before Guy went to work, and that was the highlight of Tigger's day. Guy was sometimes in a good mood—he was certainly less surly at night than he was in the morning when he'd drag himself home with the dawn and scowl at everything Tigger said.

Guy had brought a computer home for Tigger to use and set him up with a VOIP account as promised. He'd also gotten him a cellphone, but had given it to him with strict orders never to call out on it unless it was a dire emergency. He'd told him that the phone was not setup to take incoming calls.

Tigger had withdrawn from school for the summer quarter and gotten most of his money back, and he'd called work to tell them that he had a family emergency and would be gone for an indefinite period of time. His boss was not at all happy and he wasn't sure he'd have a job when he was finally ready to go back, but there was nothing to be done about it. Guy wouldn't let him out of his house.

His mother was vexed at him for cancelling his Fourth of July visit, but she understood that his safety was more important. He talked to her and Jon every day, although it was difficult because he couldn't say much about himself. He was ever aware that their phones were probably tapped. He didn't want to tell them anything about himself for fear of giving Valjevo a clue to his whereabouts. He couldn't tell them what he was feeling and what he was doing, which was virtually nothing except lusting after Guy.

After just a few days with Brad, Jon had moved in with his sister, saying that Brad was nice, but too clingy. It was always the same story. Everyone Jon dated fell in love with him, but it was never reciprocated. Tigger wondered if his flighty friend would ever settle down.

The second day Tigger was in the house, the day that Guy brought home a computer for him, he had also given him a credit card to use for Internet shopping. They had had a big argument about it. Guy had told him that it was a corporate card and that his company would cover whatever he wanted to buy. Tigger was not sure he believed that. Why would Guy's company replace all his stuff? They weren't an insurance company after all.

But Guy had insisted and the name on the card was an alias, Michael P. Smith, so Tigger couldn't prove anything one way or another. In any case, he needed clothes and toiletries and Guy refused to let him use his own money. He said Valjevo would have a watch on it and it was too dangerous. So in the end he grudgingly trusted Guy and used the card.

He had used it sparingly though, buying only a few changes of casual clothes to wear around Guy's house, which was why he had to do laundry every few days. Today when he opened the dryer he discovered that it was full of Guy's clothes. He glanced around for a laundry basket but didn't see one.

The dryer was conveniently located in the hallway across from his bedroom. As he was standing in front of it wondering what to do, he heard Guy in the workout room. The big man let out a low grunt that sent a shiver of lust up Tigger's spine. He couldn't help but picture what Guy might look like working out. Tigger had been avoiding that particular temptation. Guy used his home gym almost every day, and Tigger stringently avoided going through the room when he was there. Guy obviously wasn't interested in him, he probably still thought of him as a kid, and Tigger was not going to force himself on anyone who didn't reciprocate his feelings.

Now, that sexy grunt drew him like a bee to nectar. Today he had an excuse to interrupt Guy during his workout. Before he could change his mind, he strode boldly to the end of the hall and entered the gym room. "Guy, what should I do with..." He broke off his sentence as all the air left his lungs in a whoosh. The sight that met his eyes took his breath away.

Guy was lying on a bench, pressing a large barbell over his chest. He was wearing a tank top and shorts, which showed off his straining muscles entirely too well. They glistened with a sheen of sweat. They bulged to amazing proportions. Even his thigh muscles were well-defined, taut with the effort of lifting the massive weight. Not only did Guy have the most perfectly sculpted body ever, the scent of his efforts permeated the room. Fresh, hot, male sex. Tigger's knees went weak.

Guy glanced in his direction. "What do you need?" he grunted out as he slowly lowered the barbell back down to his chest.

Oh my! You! I need you! Tigger open his mouth but the only sound that came out was a breathy huff. He swallowed. Guy seemed to be focused on his barbell, and Tigger took a few seconds to compose himself. "I ... you left your clothes in the dryer. I wasn't sure ... aren't you supposed to have someone spotting you while you're doing that?"

"Like who?" Guy asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Tigger was pretty sure the big man was teasing him, because he knew he'd be useless when it came to preventing that giant weight from crushing his chest. His eyes riveted back to said chest. Guy was pushing the weight back up. Tigger watched his gorgeous muscles bulge again, the veins on his biceps standing out in stark relief against his tan skin. Guy's jaw was clenched, but his lips were slightly parted. Panting. Tigger was panting himself. He became aware that his cock was diamond hard, tenting the front of his sweatpants obscenely. His face flushed with embarrassment, but he was unable to move, unable to look away. It was as if Guy had cast a spell that kept him frozen to the spot.

With another manly grunt, Guy lifted the barbell higher and slid it carefully into its resting place. Sitting up, he grabbed a small towel and mopped off his face. Tigger's eyes were drawn to his shorts, which had slid up higher on his leg as he sat up. Guy's thighs were as thick as Tigger's own waist, solid muscle, and covered with luscious dark curls. Yum!

When Guy stood up, Tigger's eyes snapped to his face. What he saw in the big man's eyes was ravenous and feral. It sent a sudden chill through him. Guy stalked toward him like a lion cornering his prey. Tigger took a few involuntary steps backward until his back hit the wall. Adrenalin coursed through his system. He acknowledged that on some level he was afraid. Guy looked almost berserk. He was definitely out of control. But Tigger also knew that he wanted this. He wanted to drive Guy over the edge, to have him lose the iron control he had over himself, to make him go mad with lust and take him to places he'd never been.