Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Remember we consume your reviews like cookies and they give us mind fuel. Enjoy the next chapter.
Ste kissed both Leah and then Lucas on the head before standing by the door watching the two of them sleep. It was a relief the two of them were tucked into bed safely, especially with a murderer on the loose. The last few days had been an eye opener and as much as he hated to admit it a part of him was relieved he'd escaped it all. Ste had thought he'd seen most of the good and bad of what life had to offer, but how wrong he'd been. Vampires were real and they weren't monsters. If Brendan Brady was anything to go by they were also sexy beings with god-like bodies. Ste shook his head, trying to get rid of any thoughts of Brendan.
After the argument with Brendan two nights ago Ste had been upset, but after a few minutes his feelings had turned to anger. He'd gone home and slammed about for a bit, then come to the conclusion he was better off without Brendan in his life. He didn't go to work the next day and fought off many curious questions from Amy. He was now on day two of avoiding going to work, deciding to instead dress in a grubby tracksuit and sulk around the flat.
"Ste." said Amy's voice the minute he stepped into the kitchen. "Why haven't you gone to work again?"
Ste shrugged and began to fill the kettle with water. "I don't feel like it." he said sulkily.
"Don't feel like it?" she asked angrily. "What are we meant to live off? Because as far as I'm aware you're not in possession of any magic beans."
"We'll manage." said Ste. He was not going to swallow his pride of apologise to Brendan. Yes he'd betrayed him, but Brendan had kept the fact he was a vampire from him.
"Ste, that job was good money. I thought you liked it, is it because of that Brendan?" she tried her best to look sympathetic.
"No." said Ste "It's because of...Bloody hell!" he dropped the cup he was holding as he noticed Cheryl Brady staring in at him from the outside of the kitchen window.
Cheryl's skin glowed in the pale moon light and her eyes glinted. She pointed at the front door, making it obvious that she wanted Ste to let her in. Ste practically ran past a confused Amy and pulled open the door.
"You need to invite me in love." said Cheryl, smiling brightly at him. She was wearing a zebra print suit and high heels that looked way too tall for her.
"Come in." said Ste awkwardly, glancing down at the dog Cheryl pulled inside with her. The dog's bright pink collar seemed to be encrusted with diamonds and there was a tacky bow behind its ear.
Amy glanced up from the magazine she was reading and paled when she noticed Cheryl. "Hi ya!" she said awkwardly, looking at the mess of toys on the floor that the kids had left out. "Ste didn't mention you were coming round, I'd have got in some biscuits or something." she jumped up and began to clear the cluttered floor frantically.
"Don't worry love, I won't be here long. I was wondering whether I could have a word with Ste."
"Of course!" said Amy, "I'll be in my room." she shot Ste a questionable look on the way out and closed her bedroom door softly behind her.
"She's cute." said Cheryl kindly.
Ste shrugged, trying to ignore how Cheryl had made the word cute sound like another way of saying delicious. "I'm not going back." he blurted out.
"Please." said Cheryl almost in a whine. "Brendan's been unbearable the last few days; I'm contemplating staking myself if he gets any worse. You've got to help us Ste."
"He doesn't want me there." said Ste childishly.
"Yes he does!" argued Cheryl "But he's just too stubborn to say it. Is it about money? I have money, how about I give you a thousand? Would that change your mind?"
"No." said Ste, swallowing hard. A thousand pounds did sound very tempting.
"He told me about Walker. I understand why you did it love, I've been saying to him from the start that we needed to be honest with you. Usually our staff are a bit... quicker on the uptake, I mean they usually know when they apply, but it's not your fault you didn't guess." Cheryl bit her lip, trying to give him her best puppy dog eyes.
Ste crossed his arms. "I can't work at your club, I have me kids to think about. Your line of work is too dangerous. If anything happened to me then they wouldn't have a Dad any more. It's not fair on them or Amy."
He didn't mention the other reason; that he could see himself falling hard for her brooding older brother and that just wasn't an option. Brendan wouldn't want someone like him for long and after he was done with him he'd have nothing left, not even a job. Ste had to protect himself and his family; it was the right thing to do. Plus he was pretty sure he'd blown any chance he had with Brendan, so what was the point of worrying about any of it anyway?
"I didn't want to do this. But you've left me no choice." said Cheryl, she opened her bag and pulled out a pile of papers. "In my hand is a life insurance policy, if anything happens to you it pays Amy over one million pounds."
"Why would I need that for?" asked Ste boldly. "I'm not planning to go near any more vampires any time soon." He hoped Cheryl couldn't tell he was lying. Ste knew deep down he couldn't keep away from the pull of Brendan for too long.
Cheryl looked at him, seemingly trying to figure out whether to tell him something important. "Ste, do you think you finding those bodies was an accident?"
Ste shrugged. "I don't know."
Cheryl looked down at her Collie dog and patted him lovingly on the head. "Mitzeee and I think that the person killing all those people may be targeting you. It might be something to do with Brendan, he has a lot of enemies; nobody lives as long as we do without making a few, but it might not. Now you can walk away from DOA right now and hope that we're wrong. But if we're right you don't have any protection. Brendan can protect you babe. Give him another chance and let him protect you. If not for me, then for your kids and Amy."
A number of conflicting emotions passed across Ste's face. In the end he realised he had to swallow his pride for everyone's sake. He needed his kids to be safe, no matter what had gone on between Brendan and him.
"Okay." he agreed finally.
Cheryl let out an excited squeal and flung her arms around Ste's neck. "Thank goodness for that. Things haven't half been dull without you around!
Mitzeee ended the call on her phone wearing a smile like a cat that had just got the cream. Humans were so easy to control and manipulate, and whatever ability he may have to resist the mind control. Ste Hay was no exception to this. She knew that if Cheryl told him the story the two women had made up between them, the boy would soon crumble to their will. The boy was special in some ways, but in others boringly predictable. It was obviously his main priority was his kids, so why not play on that in a little game of matchmaking? Cheryl had played that card surprisingly well and shockingly hadn't screwed it up for once, now the only person left to convince was Brendan.
Mitzeee climbed the steps that led to Brendan's platform with a renewed sense of purpose. Her maker had been in a vile mood for the last few days, which was getting worse with every hour that Ste Hay decided not to show up. She'd never seen her maker so wound up about any boy before, she loved it. Watching Brendan Brady loosing his head over a boring human was much more exciting than watching Eastenders! The sexual tension between the two men was delicious and Mitzeee would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy watching the two. If only that Simon Walker idiot hadn't screwed it all up.
"What are you doing here Anne?" asked Brendan, as she slid in next to him. "I told you I want to be alone."
Mitzeee pulled a face at her old human name. "I came up here to talk to you about Ste."
"Not interested." said Brendan, turning back to look at the crowds.
"Well actually that's the thing." said Mitzeee, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "I wanted to know if I could perhaps have a crack at him, seen as the two of you aren't talking any more."
Brendan's face darkened. "I don't think you're his type."
"'I'm every man's type." said Mitzeee boldly. "but that face tells me you're not as done with him as you say you are. You must be worried about the poor lad like I am; he's practically a danger magnet. So far he's found all those bodies and attracted that Simon Walker nutter. Aren't you worried he could be in danger?"
"I'm the only one who's a danger to him." said Brendan coldly, he was gripping the railings so tightly that they were started to dent with the pressure. "He betrayed me, why should I be worried about him?"
Mitzeee grinned, knowing Brendan's defensive tone was all an act. She was starting to get somewhere with him now. "Brendan you're not the scariest monster in the closet. There are other things out there that could take much more of an unhealthy interest in young Ste. Things that wouldn't think twice before pulling his pretty little head from that neck of his."
She'd never been able to read Brendan's mood, but right now she could see the emotions fly over his face. They made her grin even wider. "What do you want me to do about it Anne?" asked Brendan harshly.
"We need to offer Ste protection, the only way we can do that is having him continue to work here." she said in a sugary sweet tone.
Brendan gave him the sour look he used when he knew she was trying to get her own way, and decided she wasn't to get it, "That's out of the question."
"Well..." Mitzeee purred, letting her tongue caress her fangs as though she were thinking about a particularly succulent morsel. "You've left me no choice then. I'll take him for my own later tonight; he'll look gorgeous chained up in my bedroom like a Christmas decoration. It'll be like coming home to a present every night and at least then he'll be safe."
She turned counting back from ten slowly as she started to walk back towards the stairs.
"Anne."
She slowly turned back, trying to rearrange her smug smile into a much more neutral expression. "Yes Brendan?" she said sweetly.
"He can have his job back." said Brendan.
"I'm glad you said that, he'll be here with Cheryl in about five minutes." she grinned, noticing his furious expression. "I expect your mood to improve now he's coming back, you've been a miserable sod since that argument the two of you had. Give the lad a break; he's just discovered you're a vampire, it's no wonder he's confused."
She paused again just before reaching the steps. "Do us all a favour and stop pretending. It's obvious you want the boy, just get it over and done with. You're full of this sexual frustration."
Mitzeee turned and finally went back to the bar this time. Brendan and Ste just made it too easy for her! Soon it would be time to start phase two of operation match-maker. But first she was going to enjoy watching Ste run circles round her ill-tempered maker.
Brendan knew Mitzeee was messing with him. There was no way she was going to get Steven chained to the wall of her bedroom. Steven was never going to be interested and she couldn't control Steven's mind any more than Brendan could. And anyway, her taste in men had never included skinny fair haired ones.
But she still wasn't having him, whatever she said.
And Brendan was not going to get distracted by the thought of Steven chained to a wall. Well, obviously who wouldn't want to imagine a pretty young man like Steven chained to a wall and keening with need? But that pretty young man didn't have to be Steven. He'd like to imagine anyone of a similar shape and look in the same position. Probably. He just couldn't think of anyone else right now.
He might not want the boy to be hurt or to have to sleep with Mitzeee, but that didn't mean he cared about him anymore. Steven had betrayed him, not the other way round. Brendan was dangerous and Steven was a liar. They needed to stay away from each other. Completely.
And certainly neither should chain the other to a wall.
The night was building up. It had been dark for a while and vampires and mortals alike were streaming into the club, finding willing bodies to dance with and to play with. He could smell Steven. He would step inside any moment, accompanied by Cheryl and ready for his shift. Brendan needed something to do.
He spotted a likely target. He was feeling peckish anyway and there was a slim lad at the edge of the dance floor. He had mousy hair and was clearly slightly younger than Steven. Brendan didn't really like "young" as a quality. Over the centuries he'd started to find too much youth tiresome. If he was feeling generous he would have accepted that Steven was, in some ways, almost irresistible in the way he looked so young and yet clearly his children and his hardships had bred in him a maturity that was admirable. But Brendan was not feeling generous. It would probably wound Steven more to think he was being passed over for a younger model.
He glided to his new target silently. The thrill of shock that appearing unannounced elicited in a human was also losing its appeal, but he seemed to have got into the habit of the move. His target reacted exactly as a thousand targets had reacted before - a sudden tightening of the muscles and tendon, a sharp intake of breath, a perceptible change in heart beat and a small release of pheromones. Brendan wasn't sure if he liked the smell of this one, but he decided he didn't care. A much more enticing and familiar scent had just entered the room and Brendan needed to make a point.
He gave the boy a dark smirk that demanded attention and greeted "What's a boy like you, doing in a place like this?"
He knew that it wasn't what you said so much as how you said it. He'd said it brilliantly, with just the right tone of darkly promising. The boy's mouth dropped open, loose and flummoxed. "Angghh," he managed. Then he flushed, charmingly and said in a strained voice, "I'm waiting for someone."
Brendan couldn't help but grin. This was too easy. He could feel Steven's eyes upon him, burning into the back of his neck. He could smell the anger and jealousy and confusion from the barman. This was one of the best plans he'd ever had. "Well," he said to this boy in front of him, "I think you've found someone better."
He put a hand out towards the boy, who looked at him as though he were the most tempting thing he'd ever seen. He heard Cheryl instruct Steven to start on some job or other, but it barely mattered; he'd made his point. There was no way his sister and stalker could outwit Brendan Brady. They may think they'd won by playing their sneaky game of matchmaking, but he was showing them he couldn't be played with. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. And right now he was going to fuck this scruffy Scottish lad in a leather coat. Because he could.
The boy put his hand in Brendan's.
"Er, what do you think you're doing?!"
It was that blond barmaid. Theresa. Pretty, human and thick as a plank.
"What does it look like, Theresa?" he said, silkily, noticing a slight hesitation in the hand in his.
"Er, it looks like you're trying to sleep with my boyfriend!"
Brendan felt his lip curl. There was something incredibly off putting about that information. He wasn't feeling particularly guilty about nearly succeeding in getting between them. It was just the thought of someone going near Theresa McQueen was enough to put any self-respecting man off.
"Ew," he said, and dropped the boy's hand as though it were covered in slime. He wiped his own on the boys jacket and pushed back to the bar, skirting Mitzeee who was looking at him with raised eyebrows.
"Are you pleased with yourself?" she said, clattering after him.
"Not particularly," he said, "he didn't look that desperate from over here."
"Hey! Theresa McQueen is beautiful and you know it! There's nothing desperate about Joel!" Mitzeee prodded him with a perfectly manicured index finger, "You're growing a conscience!"
"No I'm not!" he protested.
"Yeah, you think that. In the meantime, you've sent one of our bar staff flapping and we need you to fix one of the pumps."
"Get a man in!" Brendan replied. He was not a DIY kind of vampire.
"I don't know if you've noticed this, Brendan, but humans seem to think working is something you do during the day. So, unless you know a friendly vampire plumber, it's going to have to be you!"
Brendan let out a disgusted noise. "Whatever," he said, "where is it?"
"Cellar," said Mitzeee, "I'll show ya."
Brendan grumbled but followed. It was his club, after all, they couldn't go looking unprofessional.
Mitzeee opened the door to the cellar and stepped just inside. "At the back," she said, "but if you think I'm risking these shoes on that floor you've got another thing coming!"
Brendan rolled his eyes, "This suit is Armani and you've got me fixing pipes! I think your New Look shoes can handle it."
"Hey!" snapped Mitzeee, "Watch it! I do not shop at New Look! Now get in there!"
Brendan smirked. He'd always known how to get at Mitzeee and he did enjoy seeing her getting annoyed. He strolled past her casually, aiming for the pipes at the back. "So what's wrong with it?" he asked.
The door clicked shut. He turned with a frown on his face. "Mitzeee?" he said.
"Is this enough, Chez?" said a familiar voice in the corner, making the last few minutes click into place in Brendan's mind. He was going to kill Cheryl and Mitzeee.
He turned and frowned at the pile of boxes that emerged from a corner of the cellar. Brendan didn't need to look behind the boxes to know who it was. He tried the handle, but knew what he was going to find. The brats had locked them in. Annoyingly the door was vampire proof, which meant there was no way out.
"Chez?" Steven asked, nervously.
"She's not here, Steven," Brendan told him, feeling a slight sense of pleasure as the boy nearly jumped out of his skin and catching the boxes he dropped before they hit the floor with ease. He then shoved them back into the boy's arms and growled at the door, "Anne Minniver, you better open this door right now if you know what's good for you!"
"Yeah yeah," he heard Mitzeee call through the door, self-satisfied smirk obvious in her voice.
"We're not letting you out until you've made up!" he heard Cheryl cry, followed by a jangling of keys. Brendan groaned. The first time they worked together in a century and it was to annoy him.
"Yeah, don't overdo it!" he heard Mitzeee scold.
"I wasn't!" Cheryl protested and he heard two pairs of shoes clatter off back up the stairs.
"'Eyar, what you playing at?" Steven cried, having deposited his boxes somewhere.
"I've just been locked in a cellar, Steven, do I look like I'm 'playing'?"
"Is this supposed to scare me?!" Steven cried, his righteous anger failing to hide a hint of fear despite his words.
"What, you not scared Steven?" Brendan breathed, stepping closer, using his full height to fully intimidate the boy. They weren't coming out of here friends, but he could get the boy to behave. "Locked underground with the undead. So far down, no one would hear you scream."
He saw flicker of worry cross the boy's face, but it was drowned out. "What, proving me right are ya?" Steven snarled, "Showing me just how evil the big bad vampire can be!"
He actually snarled back, like a wild animal. The boy flinched back but instantly set his face into a mask of stubbornness.
"See?" Steven said, quietly. Then he pushed past Brendan, presumably to go for the door. But Brendan caught his wrist.
"I give you a job, I try to look after you and all you do is betray me!"
Steven blanched. Was it guilt? Brendan wasn't used to guilt. Usually the humans he dealt with were past such qualms and vampires were rarely troubled with the emotion. But Steven didn't give up. He wrenched his hand free. "You lied to me!" he hissed.
"I never lied!" Brendan cried.
"You never told me, did you?!"
"It's not my fault you took so long to figure it out!"
Steven's eyes opened wide. "Are you saying I'm slow?!"
Brendan only hesitated a moment. He had no intention of making up with the boy. Best cement the hate, make sure they both avoided each other.
"Yeah!" he said, "I am!"
Steven looked like he'd been smacked in the face, but he recovered quickly enough, "Well, at least I don't go around swaggering like I'm some sort of gangster!"
"What?" Brendan thought and said.
"Yeah, you with your expensive clothes and yer growly voice. You think you're proper it, don't ya?"
"This coming from a council-house chav?" Brendan retorted.
Steven ignored him, "And you do know the village people are thirty years out of date, don't ya? Who has a tash nowadays?"
No one was allowed to insult the tash! Brendan put all his considerable menace into the words, "When was the last time you ate, sticky?"
Steven's cheeks were starting to colour. He looked quite adorable. He spluttered briefly, then shouted, "Buy a shirt that fits!"
"Buy a shirt!" Brendan retorted, "and stop dressing like a reject from Jeremy Kyle then!"
"I've got shirts!" Steven cried, then stepped forward and prodded Brendan in the chest. "And at least I don't go round trying hypnotise people into bed!"
"That what you think, is it?" sneered Brendan, "Have you seen my face?" he shoved his face next to Steven's so the boy could get a good look at what he was missing, "I don't need to hypnotise no one!"
"Oh, so you just seduced a straight guy with, what, the power of your words?" Steven demanded. "I can't believe I thought I might actually like you!"
"Yeah, well the feeling's mutual!" snapped Brendan.
"Oh go to hell!" Steven shouted, giving Brendan the most adorable death glare. Brendan could help but try to kiss it off. He felt Steven's hands grasp his hair in tight fingers, pulling them closer together. The boy was ready to devour him right there and then. He grabbed Steven's arse and lifted him up before shoving him against the nearest wall.
But Steven, being Steven, changed the rules without telling him. Suddenly the hands weren't pulling them together. Suddenly they were punching him.
"Hey!" he cried, backing away in surprise rather than pain, "What did you do that for?"
"I tell you to go to hell and you kiss me?!" Steven cried, "what is the matter with you?"
"You kissed me back!" Brendan shouted.
"No I didn't!" Steven lied, but didn't wait for an answer. He went back to the door and screamed at it.
"Let me out of here! Let me out now! You can't keep me here! Let me out! Cheryl?! Cheryl, let me out!"
"Jesus, Ste!" Brendan heard Cheryl cry, "it's only been two minutes!"
"Let me out, right! I quit! I don't work 'ere anymore! I'm going home!"
Brendan folded his arms. He had no idea what was going on in the boys head and he was obviously far too much of a liability anyway. It was good riddance that he was quitting. Definitely. It would be better for all of them if they never saw each other again. But why did that feel like the worst thing that could possibly happen?
The door opened to reveal Cheryl's worried face. "Steven," Brendan heard his own voice beg, quietly, but the boy was deaf to his pleads. He stormed past Cheryl without a backwards glance.
Brendan sat heavily on a crate.
"What happened?!" Cheryl cried. "What did you do to him?"
"Oh, nothing, Chez, just… just give me a few minutes, yeah?"
The last thing he wanted was a lecture from Cheryl. Or sympathy. Neither sounded fun.
"Well, you best hope one of us can persuade him to come back!" Cheryl cried, "we'll never get another barman as sweet and hardworking as him!"
"Yeah, yeah," Brendan mumbled, once again pleased to hear the sound of her heels clattering away. He rubbed his face in his hands. The idea of never seeing Steven again had sucked all the energy from him. Just because he kind of hated him, didn't mean he didn't want him anymore.
Vampires weren't supposed to be tired and drained like this. They were supposed to get what they wanted and eat it. Being with Steven weakened Brendan. He almost felt human when he was near him. He missed stuff. Like, he hadn't noticed the sounds of the club, or that there really wasn't really a problem with the pump. Or the smell of blood. The special brew must have sprung a leak. He rubbed his face again. He needed to check it out – the special brew was their most valuable commodity. They couldn't waste it. And at least it would be a few minutes he wouldn't have to think about Steven.
He followed the smell to the far corner. It wasn't a good batch. They must have not stored it properly. It smelt like it was going off.
Then he realised it wasn't just blood he could smell. It was human.
Maybe he'd assumed it was Steven, but Steven smelt much better than this. And he suddenly realised what it was. There was a dead body in the cellar.
He swore. Someone must have drunk too much, then freaked out and hidden the evidence. Why did he have to bring Brendan into it? He narrowed it down to a spot behind some barrels, so he shoved them out of the way.
There it was, a young dead man, left haphazardly in a mess. His blood was congealing and his body cold. Brendan sighed. Was he familiar?
He moved the other barrel so he could get the man out. And froze. Words had been cut into the skin of the man's chest.
"Guess who's next?"
Brendan was out of the door before the barrel hit the ground.