Master: Crimson Page 2

  * * * *

  “I love your crucifix,” spoke a sudden voice in slightly accented, yet otherwise flawless English. Startled, Raiden almost dropped his cigarette, but his sharp reflexes kicked in before it could happen. Squinting up, he tried to locate the source of the voice. He saw a tall man, dressed impeccably in Chinese silk and leather, dark sunglasses obscuring the upper part of his face. Alcoholic fumes were fairly radiating off him, and Raiden couldn’t help his sensitive nose from wrinkling just the slightest bit. Damn these vampiric senses.

  “It does the trick,” Raiden replied sarcastically, wondering how much the mystery man would love it if he knew how powerless an object it really was.

  “You’re Raiden-san, are you not? From Scent?”

  Raiden nodded his assent, absentmindedly sipping his drink as he desperately tried to scheme a way out of the conversation. Damnit. All I wanted was some fucking peace and quiet, and now I have to deal with some obsessed foreign groupie—

  “I’m Gabriel Colin, from Mesmerized. I don’t expect you to know my work—”

  “Of course I know your work. It’s nice to meet you,” Raiden interjected swiftly. He warmly extended his hand as he forced a smile to grace his features. Oh, right. He’s that shitty French-Canadian actor who made it big in America, though God only knows why. Once, Raiden had tried to watch Mesmerized to see what all the hype was about. After about five minutes of the camera zooming in dreamily on Gabriel’s good-looking, though often tear-stained face, he had aimed the remote at his flat-screen TV and fired. What a waste of five minutes!

  Raiden suppressed a chuckle as Gabriel goggled at him and returned his handshake with exaggerated force, slightly swaying on his feet. He’s three sheets to the wind. So much for composure. Gabriel was still holding his hand. The singer swiftly withdrew it and fired up another cigarette. Gabriel watched him, tilting his head to the side to study Raiden’s face. He was used to this sort of treatment, but it was rather disconcerting for someone as famous and ubiquitous as Gabriel to blatantly administer it.

  “May I join you?”

  Gabriel took off his sunglasses in a practiced, polished manner. Raiden again fought the urge to bark laughter. The exaggeration in Gabriel’s gestures positively tickled him. But at the same time, it was potentially annoying. He hesitated before answering Gabriel’s question, voices warring within him.

  Blow him off. Then he’ll see what a jerk you really are and leave you alone. And you won’t have to worry about him bothering you anymore.

  This party is more boring than a Catholic mass. If you let him sit down, maybe no one else will bother you. Hell, maybe the night will even go by a little faster.

  Raiden gestured to the chair across from him.

  “Be my guest.”

  He pretended not to notice Gabriel’s sigh of relief as the actor took a seat.

  “You know, Raiden-san, I’ve really been anticipating our inevitable introduction.”

  Gabriel set his sunglasses on the table with a small, calculated clink. Raiden stilled the urge to roll his eyes.

  “I think we’ve actually met before,” Raiden deadpanned, keeping the ever-present smirk of amusement from revealing itself too obviously.

  “I mean, I’ve really been looking forward to making your acquaintance. I’ve longed for the opportunity to actually sit down and talk with you,” Gabriel corrected. He leaned forward and stared into Raiden’s eyes.

  “Well, I’m really not all that interesting,” Raiden said with a dismissive wave, breaking their eye contact. He decided that Gabriel must be genuinely tipsy in order to admit something like that. Or maybe he’s just hard-up for me. That wouldn’t be too surprising. The vampire hid his wry smile behind a deep drag of his diminishing cigarette. Undeterred, Gabriel pulled his chair closer to where Raiden lounged on the couch.

  “Of course you’re interesting. I don’t waste my time with boring people.”

  Surprised at Gabriel's straightforward response, Raiden let out a small laugh. Is this guy for real?

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. I’ve admired you for quite some time, for both the quality of your artistry and your natural magnetism,” Gabriel gushed. Raiden decided to put a swift, brutal end to all this unwanted flattery.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Eh? I’m not quite sure I grasp your meaning, Raiden-san.”

  The actor creased his forehead in the faintest frown while widening his eyes to ridiculous proportions. In that moment, he looked more like a mentally retarded child than a highly prized TV sex symbol. Raiden savagely wished for a camera so that he could capture the awkwardness of Gabriel’s expression.

  “I mean that it must be disappointing for you to meet me in person, since the image you’ve grown accustomed to is nothing more than my stage persona,” Raiden clarified. He stubbed out his cigarette with a curt twist of the wrist. The man’s very presence was trying his patience. With regret, the vampire reflected that allowing Gabriel to join him was likely the wrong decision.

  The actor stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few seconds before throwing back his head and barking a hearty laugh. “Raiden-san, forgive me for saying so, but that is perfectly ridiculous! You’re even more captivating in person,” Gabriel cooed, pretending to wipe mirthful tears from the corners of his eyes.

  Against his will, Raiden snorted. The bastard sure knows how to kiss someone‘s ass. Their eyes met. Gabriel caught his lower lip between his teeth and smiled hopefully. Alarmed, Raiden cursed himself for having made the mistake of allowing the actor to sit so close. It seemed the man’s proximity had somehow broken through the first barrier of his defenses. His alarm softened, however, when Gabriel launched headfirst into a conversation about music, seemingly unaware of the damage he had inflicted upon Raiden’s resistance.

  As they talked, the vampire tried to ignore the increasingly obvious fragrances his nose refused to forget. The combination of alcohol and ardent conversation coaxed Gabriel’s blood closer to the surface of his skin, heating it with a rosy flush that caused Raiden’s mouth to positively water. To top it off, the actor had applied a generous amount of potent cologne, its scent perfectly complimenting the delectable perfume of blood emanating from his flesh. Indeed, it was a heady combination. Raiden focused intently on the topic of their conversation, currently the downward spiraling of American pop culture, in an effort to ignore the bloodlust practically pulsing through every part of his body. One part in particular. Raiden grimaced, and delicately shifted positions in an effort to hide his raging hard-on. Alas, the aroma of blood never failed to arouse him.

  Gabriel stopped talking and placed his hand on Raiden’s knee. The singer jumped in surprise, emitting the tiniest of squeaks and regretting it at once. He braced himself for the expected question.

  “I would love it if you accompanied me to dinner this week.”

  The FUCK? Raiden couldn’t properly process this request, as the hunger consuming him had already sent his sensory overload into maximum overdrive. He had been prepared to answer the question of why he had a boner. He had been prepared to be asked why he was hiding it. Hell, he had even been prepared for Gabriel to proposition him. This seemingly innocent proposal, however, caught him totally off-guard. He goggled at Gabriel, dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events.

  “Raiden-san? Are you—?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Gabriel. Mr. Colin, I mean. Sorry. Yeah, I’m really busy all week, and all next week, too,” Raiden babbled, just barely recovering from his momentary lapse. Disconcertingly, Gabriel’s hand stayed on his knee. Raiden was tempted to move, but feared exposing his arousal. Clenching his toes in frustration, he remained rooted to the spot, a light sheen of sweat bathing his upper lip.

  “Actually, I would prefer if you simply called me Gabriel. So no need to apologize. And about dinner…I understand that you have a busy schedule, but I am willing to compromise my own hectic life in order to meet with you this week. You see, there is
something of great importance I wish to discuss with you. A sort of project. I understand this may be a terrible inconvenience to you, but I really think we would both benefit from such a meeting,” he explained, fingers inadvertently squeezing Raiden’s knee at the end of each sentence.

  Deciding he had experienced enough torture for one night, the vampire extricated himself from Gabriel’s grasp. He placed his jacket conveniently in front of the bulge in his pants and prepared to leave. He knew Taro would probably give him hell for failing to network, but at present, he really couldn’t care less. The sole thought in Raiden’s mind was of eating. Spending time in Gabriel’s presence had accelerated his desire to feed; if he didn’t leave now, things might get ugly later. Not to mention, positively bloody. Raiden forced a smile as the actor stared up at him with panicked eyes.

  “I’m really sorry, Gabriel. Although I’ve enjoyed talking with you, I’m completely exhausted. I’m afraid I have to go home now. It was great to meet you, though.”

  Gabriel rose quickly from his seat, towering over him as he attempted to block the singer’s path of flight. Shit. Raiden tried not to squirm as Gabriel’s arm brushed against him.

  “I understand you need your rest, Raiden-san. However, I feel it would be remiss not to exchange business cards. Clearly, we’ve started to forge a connection. I strongly feel that fate has brought us together.”

  Gabriel brandished his business card with a flourish. To shut him up, Raiden grudgingly surrendered his own card and tucked the actor’s into his pants pocket. If this is fate, then I’m a woman.

  “Have a good night, Gabriel.”

  “You as well, Raiden-san. I anticipate our next encounter.”

  Raiden brushed past him, practically grinning in relief as he made his way to the door.

  “Raiden-san? I have a request,” Gabriel’s voice called to him. Shaking with aggravation, Raiden turned his body back around to face him.

  “What is it, Gabriel?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “May I please call you Raiden? It would make the first cycle in the phase of our bonding complete,” was Gabriel’s dreamy reply.

  “Sure, Gabriel, whatever. Bye now.”

  Raiden whirled around and rushed toward the door, heedless of his hasty retreat. He had to create as much space as possible between himself and Gabriel. Clearly, the man was off his rocker. Raiden’s face seemed to rupture as he dissolved into hysterical guffaws. Pushing the door open, he breathed in the night breeze with an overwhelming sense of relief. All too soon, however, he remembered his hunger. Jacket slung over one shoulder, the vampire blended into the night, stalking the streets for his next victim.

  Chapter 2

  The Mistake

  I can‘t stay away.

  Just one taste of you

  And I’m on my knees,

  Begging.

  Biting down on an immaculately-manicured pinky nail, Gabriel dialed Raiden’s number for the fifth time that week. He pretended not to notice the deluge of sweat dripping down the creases of his palms as the phone began to ring. Please, please pick up, he prayed. Gabriel was never one to beg, but at this particular moment, he was practically on his knees. Raiden had somehow managed to escape his grasp, a fact that he still stubbornly refused to accept. Furthermore, he didn’t understand why this man would wish to elude him. Though he had been tipsy at the time of their meeting, Gabriel couldn’t recall having behaved in an inappropriate manner. I barely even flirted with him. The singer’s impassive voice recording jolted him back to reality.

  “I’m not here.” BEEP.

  Flabbergasted by the loud noise, Gabriel’s teeth chomped down on his nail’s tip harder than intended, effectively removing it. He choked on it for a moment before plunging headfirst into his well-rehearsed greeting.

  “Raiden, this is Gabriel again. It’s wonderful you’re keeping busy, but I’m beginning to feel a bit neglected. It is of the utmost importance that our paths cross again. When can we meet? My schedule is a bit freer now that I’ve finished filming Mesmerized, so I’m completely at your disposal. Please don’t hesitate to call at whatever hour is most convenient for you. Any time, night or day. I anticipate your call. Talk with you soon. Goodbye.”

  Gabriel snapped his cell phone shut. The petrified grin he had maintained during the call shattered as he spat out the severed pinky nail. Gabriel was not used to being ignored. The press practically tripped over itself in order to coax a smile out of him. Countless drooling admirers of all ethnicities from different countries paid unspeakable sums just to catch sight of him. Even fellow actors couldn’t resist him. And yet…there was one who could. Just my luck that it happens to be Raiden. Gabriel buried his face in his sweaty palms, for once forgetting to care about ruining his perfectly pristine makeup.

  * * * *

  It was him again. Raiden knew who was calling without even having to look. Groaning, he reached for his phone to silence it before the message indicator could begin to flash its insistent, garish red. A hand stopped him just as he started to press the blessed “off” button.

  “Who was that?” Taro inquired, peering suspiciously down at the phone.

  “No one,” he replied, a little too quickly. Damn. I almost got away with it.

  “Who was it?” Taro insisted, keeping his hand glued to the urgently flashing device.

  “Nobody,” Raiden growled. He attempted to yank the phone out of Taro’s grasp without accidentally breaking any bones. Sometimes superhuman strength was a curse.

  “Raiden, that wasn’t Gabriel calling again, was it?” Taro asked, ruffling Raiden’s hair.

  “No!”

  He batted Taro’s hand away from his head, temporarily giving Taro the advantage. Taro seized the opportunity and quickly slipped the phone from Raiden’s weakened grasp. Chuckling in triumph, Taro brandished his prize.

  “So if I look at your caller id, it won’t have Gabriel’s name on it?” He questioned slyly, smirking at the angry, somewhat panicked look on Raiden’s face.

  “Of course not,” Raiden huffed. You wouldn’t be smirking like that if you knew how fast I could open up your veins.

  “Okay then, if I look at your caller id, it won’t have Gabriel’s number on it?” Taro teased, pursing his lips a little too cutely. Raiden barely refrained from unsheathing his fangs.

  “Not if I can help it,” Raiden growled, reaching for his phone. Being taller, however, Taro had the advantage. Nimbly, he flipped open the top of Raiden’s phone and peered down at the screen. The lead guitarist frowned, raising an eyebrow in exaggerated disbelief.

  “Hmmm, looks like Gabriel’s number to me.”

  “And how would you know what Gabriel’s number is?” Raiden retorted, administering a sharp kick to Taro’s shins in an attempt to knock him off-balance. It didn’t work.

  “Because I recognize it from the other time you didn’t want to answer your phone today. That was only a few hours ago, Raiden. You said it was Gabriel, remember? And then—”

  “Okay, okay, I remember. Fine, you caught me,” Raiden grumbled. He didn’t want to admit defeat, but had no choice in the matter. Taro beamed down at him.

  “You should just call him back.”

  The vampire stared up at him in horror before barking out a few humorless chuckles.

  “You’re hilarious.”

  “No, I mean it. Call him back, let him wine and dine you, and then tell him no to whatever he’s selling. Unless, of course, it’s good for the band.”

  Taro’s eyes positively sparkled at this last thought. Raiden bit the insides of his cheeks, silently wishing that human organs could regenerate. He would have dearly loved to shove Taro’s greedy little eyeballs into the back of his skull until they popped.

  “You’ve lost your fucking mind, T.”

  “On the contrary, my friend. You’re the one who’s playing with fire here,” Taro stated, tapping the phone against his hand in an annoyingly syncopated rhythm.

  “What are you talki
ng about?”

  Taro continued playing with the phone, rapping it forcefully against his palm as he expounded upon his theory.

  “Making Gabriel mad is a very unwise decision. I mean, you’ve seen firsthand how determined this guy is. Plus, he’s one of the most recognized celebrities on the planet right now. Imagine what a bad word from Gabriel could do to your career. You don’t really want Gabriel spreading some nasty rumors about how much of a bastard you are, do you?”

  Raiden snorted. “I could care less what that prissy fake thinks of me. I could care even less what he says about me.”

  “That’s all very well; but Raiden, you’re forgetting something. Scent has a specific image to maintain. We can’t afford any more bad press, especially after—”

  “Don’t start this shit again. I went to that damned party, didn’t I? I suffered in Gabriel's company for over two hours, T. I think that’s more than enough.”

  Raiden’s eyes flickered shut as a memory slammed into him. He was so close, he was touching me, and I could almost taste him, could almost feel—Raiden’s teeth ached.

  “And I think I know what’s best for this band, Raiden. Call Gabriel. Just go to dinner and be done with it.”

  All traces of humor abandoned his best friend’s face. Raiden groaned at the sight of Taro's no-nonsense expression.

  “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to sit across from him for God-knows-how-many-hours and endure that awful cologne.” That awfully delicious cologne. Fused with the scent of blood, tempting, taunting with each flick of the wrist, every rustle of fabric, all—

  “Raiden, I’m serious. Call him.”

  “You don’t honestly think—”

  “Suck it up, Raiden. You gotta take one for the team every now and again.”