Authors: Ethan Day
Tags: #MLR Press; ISBN 978-1-60820-237-9; Sequel to Sno Ho
Wade’s bad behavior anyway?
Buck stared down in disbelief; he’d never
actually seen one in person. Things just got a hell
of a lot more dangerous than he’d been led to
believe. Simple snatch and grab, my ass.
Twelve clicks.
“What is it?” Gostric asked. “Did you find the
Halo?”
“It’s a human,” Buck said, already feeling the
effects, being in such close proximity.
“A what?” Gostric asked. “I’m sorry, for a
second I thought you said a human?”
“You’d better have the fucking ship into
position, asshole, or so help me if I survive this I’ll
blow your scrawny ass out of a missile portal.”
“I’m almost there, Captain, just tell me when
to release it.”
There was a reason he kept far away from the
slave trade. Trouble. The fact that it was a human
made this the worst kind of trouble. Fucking slaves
were useless, and those of the sex trade variety,
such as the one before him now, were usually the
worst.
88 Ethan Day
Buck could feel his desire growing as he
walked toward the unconscious man whose pale
skin had turned pink from the heat. His thick, damp
golden locks of hair gleamed in the bright light
that poured forth from of an old lava tube. He was
shackled to the wall. The so called Halo was thin
in build and he was strikingly handsome, even
near death, as he surely had to be in this punishing
environment.
None of this made any sense. “Why would
anything this valuable be kept in such a place?”
It was disheartening that there were so few
humans left, though they really had no one to
blame but themselves. Still, Buck hated the thought
that an entire species could be wiped out of the
heavens.
The pheromones humans produced were
like a drug, an aphrodisiac that drove most other
species of red-bloods to distraction. He knew now
that this was the real reason they were paying him
so much for this mission. Voldaireians were one
of the few red-bloods who could maintain control
while in their presence. Not that their scent had no
effect, Buck thought, feeling his erection straining
against the fabric of his trousers.
He licked his lips as his eyes ran over the
Life in fusion
89
naked flesh, which looked firm yet supple. It too
glistened in the light as he was covered in sweat,
which only made the pheromones more potent. He
reached out to touch…
“Captain? You still there? What the hell is
going on?” Gostric snapped over the com.
Eight clicks.
He lifted the blade, cursing himself for
succumbing to his lust, and easily sliced through
the Moranite chains. The human slumped further
down the wall, but was mumbling in delirium, so
Buck knew it wasn’t a complete lost cause. Despite
the fact that a dead human was still potent, as their
organs could be harvested, meant they were still
valuable, but a live one was practically priceless.
That didn’t mean Buck wanted to see the life
die out of the beautiful male that he now picked up
and slung over his shoulder.
“Gods Captain, where the hell are you?
You’re running out of time!”
Six clicks.
“Always there to state the fucking obvious,
aren’t you Gostric?” Buck growled, rounding the
corner.
Buck ran as fast as he could down the
90 Ethan Day
cavern. He knew the effects of the dead Darten
were wearing thin. He could once again hear the
screeches off in the distance behind him. He could
tell he was getting closer to the opening as the
corridor got wider.
Four clicks.
Their battle shrieks were getting louder and
Buck knew there was no way he could outrun the
beasts in a foot race. It was all going to come down
to luck and he prayed that timing was on his side.
“Release the grappling hook Gostric!” Buck
screamed over the com. “And I pray to the gods
you’re there.”
Two clicks
.
Buck rounded the corner, able to see the
massive opening of the shaft that led to the canyon
below. He had one shot. If Gostric was off by even
a fraction of a centient both he and the human
would plummet to their deaths.
He ran as fast as his legs would carry him,
but the shrieks were now so loud he felt they
were already upon him. All he could do was keep
running despite the fact he could now hear the
large padded footsteps of the Dartens slapping
against the stone floor behind him. He jumped over
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91
the lifeless carcass of the beast he’d slain and with
the last bit of renewed vigor, sprinted toward the
ledge and leapt off.
He felt the harsh wind on his face as it blew
the goggles completely from his head. He grinned,
grabbing hold of the cable while tightening his grip
on the soul he had dangling from his shoulder.
“Gostric you stud whore, I could fuck you
senseless, you gods damn sweet assed mother
fucker!”
“I take it you’re gonna live?” Gostric asked,
laughing.
Buck looked back as the cable stopped,
having swung out like a pendulum, only to begin
swinging back toward the opening. His eyes
widened. Two Dartens stood at the edge of the
ledge, swinging their long thick arms out in an
attempt to grab hold of Buck and his new cargo as
they got closer.
“Take the fuck off Gostric! Go! Go! Go!”
Buck felt the claw nick the fabric of his
trousers. He swung his blade, slicing through the
arm of the beast that shrieked in horror. He grunted
from the violent jerk that yanked them away from
the opening to the cavern and up into the air.
92 Ethan Day
Buck laughed, yelling out a cry of victory. He was
invigorated by the near escape and happy to have
gotten another piece of the filthy fuckers. He could
tell the cable was now lifting them and glanced up,
able to see the bottom of his ship.
He was surprised to discover his erection
had also managed to remain intact throughout the
entire ordeal. He smiled, another wave of relief
washing over him. “You are a potent little fucker,
aren’t you?”
Once they were finally lifted up inside the
loading dock, Buck waited, straining to hold on to
the cable until the bay doors were completely shut.
He groaned, letting go, and landed on his feet. His
body was weak, and he crumpled, falling to his
knees. He carefully placed his newest acquisition
onto the cool metal floor, listening to the young
man moan as if in great pain. Buck collapsed onto
his back, out of breath and weakened from the heat
and exertion.
He lifted his head and looked around, hearing
the quick, repetitive knocking sound. “Do not come
into the docking bay, Gostric!” Buck ordered.
Buck looked over to hatch door and saw no
one standing on the other side of the viewing pane.
“Who the fuck is knocking?” Buck asked,
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93
shaking his head in disgust. “Fucking writers. You
gonna get that Boone? I’m sort of busy here at the
moment.”
q q q
“Damn it!” I said, hearing the rapid knocks on the front door.
Every time I get on a roll with the writing I get interrupted
. I frowned,
looking back and forth from my laptop to the front door. The
rapid fire knocking resumed, followed by someone trying the
doorknob to see if it would open. I could tell it was the twins
from the sound of their arguing. I closed the Word document,
saved the changes and signed off the computer.
“I’m coming!” I yelled as loudly as I could since the rude rap-
tap-tapping had yet to cease.
“Well hurry up, bitch!” Lonny yelled back as I ripped open
the door.
Both his and Donny’s irritable expressions simultaneously
morphed into sweetness and light as they smiled up at me.
“Kisses!” They both sang out, pushing past me to get inside
the house.
“Ouch,” I said, getting shoved from one side to the other.
“Do come in.”
“We’re already in…hello,” Lonny said, making his way toward
the kitchen, or to the booze, I should say.
“But thanks,” Donny added, as usual providing what little
manners one could expect to receive from either of them.
Gabe stepped up and gave me a kiss on the cheek and a big
squeeze before handing me a bottle of wine. I winked at Tommy,
who was standing in the background, where he always seemed
the most comfortable. He smiled and stepped forward as if he’d
been waiting for my acknowledgement before deciding it was
okay to make a move toward the entryway. I pulled Gabe further
inside so Tommy could pass, finally relenting and letting loose of
the boy. Gabe stumbled off into the house and I took in a deep
94 Ethan Day
breath. I exhaled slowly before closing the door behind us.
Tommy Russo was tall like me, though just under my six feet.
He was attractive, in that stable-partner sort of way. He screamed
dependable. He was thin, almost skinny considering his height,
with black hair and that same beautiful olive toned skin with
which Gabe had been blessed.
Tommy owned the computer repair shop where Gabe worked,
and had been in love with Gabe since the moment he’d found
out the boy was gay. Combined with the fact Gabe was nearly as
computer savvy as Tommy would have been enough in and of
itself. But the fact Gabe was also Italian made him almost too
good to be true—the trifecta of perfection, if you will—at least
in Tommy’s world. He told me once that his grandma, who often
told him he was going to hell for being a queer, usually followed
up her bigotry by adding that it was still no excuse for Tommy to
settle for anything less than a nice Italian boy.
Unfortunately for Tommy, Gabe wasn’t ever going to be that
nice Italian boy. I knew Gabe well enough to know he would
never love Tommy, not because there was anything wrong with
the man. They were simply too much alike. Tommy couldn’t
seem to give up for whatever reason. Maybe he thought Gabe
was the only other gay Italian computer nerd out there—if not
in the world, then perhaps at least in Albuquerque?
“Where the hell is Wade Walker?” Donny asked, lifting a
throw pillow as if to look under it.
“He certainly wouldn’t fit under that,” I said, taking Tommy
and Gabe’s jackets to hang on the hooks next to front door. I
wondered momentarily if all computer techs wore the same
thin cotton windbreaker type of jacket. Was there some secret
orientation that took place behind closed doors? A secret society,
perhaps? I could write an expose, instead of
The DaVinci Code
, I
could call it
The Alphanumeric Code
.
I shook the ludicrous ramblings out of my head as Lonny
came back into the living room with two frozen raspberry
margaritas, for himself and his other side of the same coin.
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95
“Wade had to take a later flight,” I said, heading toward the
kitchen since the sight of those cocktails now had my mouth
watering. “He should be here anytime, though.”
The twins looked at one another and pouted, followed by
a shrug letting everyone know they’d already overcome their
momentary, life shattering disappointment.
Lonny and Donny Campbell were most often described as
adorable. They looked like expensively wrapped candy, sort of
glossy and sweet—always perfectly put together. They made
quite the striking entrance wherever they went, and they knew
it. As a matter of fact, they made it their mission in life. They
were fun to be around, and funny. Together, they could prattle
on every bit as fast as I did, though it took both of them to do it.
They each kept their dirty blond hair perfectly coiffed and
parted to the side. They tanned more than anyone in this day
and age should, but their dark complexions complemented them
well. After a few too many cocktails, they loved to demonstrate
their flexibility, showcasing their slim, tight build.
The twins also enjoyed sharing conquests and liked to refer
to themselves as the New Mexican Wonder Twins—kind of like
a Vegas sex act that traveled around the Albuquerque gay circuit.
They were from a wealthy family; their father was a surgeon and
one of the hospital big wigs. They didn’t rely on their daddy’s
money, though. They were both nurses, working at the same
hospital I did. You either loved them or you hated them. There
was no in between, and they didn’t give a damn as to which side
anyone happened to fall, which was pretty cool, in my opinion.
The best thing, for me, about being friends with them,
was they had a way of making me seem less outrageous, hell,