Page 10 of All Night Long

That set them both off again, but this time he was having insults shouted at him. The security guard tried to usher them out but all it did was inflame the situation more. Blue hair grabbed a jar of jam and threw it at Henry, who ducked as it sailed past his head.

Pointing at her, he said, “Banned. Get her face from CCTV and put it on the wall of customers who can no longer enter this store.”

“You fucking bastard. I’ll fucking kill you.” She reached into her bag and tried pulling something out. Henry felt his stomach drop, his heart rate shooting up.

“Cops are here!” Stan shouted.

The woman screamed and launched herself at Henry, still tugging at something in her bag. The gun came out and as she swung to point it at Henry, an officer shouted, “Drop the gun!”

She didn’t and a second later she was on the floor convulsing from the taser shot she’d taken to her back. Henry stepped back, panting harshly, a cold sweat covering his skin. All this over a box of fucking cereal? What the fuck was going on in the country that someone would shoot another human being over a fucking box of cereal?

He needed to change jobs, and soon. He was tired of dealing with people like this. Every single day something else happened that had Henry shaking his head in confusion at the state of the country. When had things deteriorated to this level?

It took far longer than Henry had wanted to get the shop back in order once the police had arrested the woman, taken statements, and done whatever else it was they needed to do. Henry had stopped paying attention. His body was on a downward spiral and he needed to get home. At least he only had an hour to go before the end of his shift. One long hour.

Once he made it home, he collapsed fully dressed on his bed and closed his eyes. Fuck, he felt like he’d been hit by a car, reversed over, then hit again. He needed to take some pain meds, but that meant moving and he didn’t want to move because of the pain, but he was already in pain so he needed the meds. Where was some telekinesis when you needed it?

“Shit,” he mumbled as he rolled into a sitting position. Wincing, he stood and stopped, waiting for his body to adjust and for the waves of pain to dissipate. He stumbled to the bathroom and grabbed the bottle of pain meds. Pausing, he swallowed hard. Those few steps had wiped all the energy from his body.

Taking a couple of tablets, he managed to make it back to bed and slowly stripped, then slid under the covers. Fuck, he felt like shit. Closing his eyes, he grimaced when his stomach rolled. He wasn’t going to throw up. Not when he’d just taken the tablets.

Rolling onto his left side, Henry closed his eyes and waited for his stomach to settle. God, when would he feel better? For days now, he’d been feeling ill. Ever since him. If he ever saw him again, he was going to kick the shit out of him.

After they’d had sex. Maybe.

The guy might have forgotten to glove up, but he had certainly made Henry see stars when he’d come. It had been a long time since a man had made him feel that good, but a condom was a must, and was he giving serious consideration to having sex with Mr. ‘I’m allergic to condoms’ again? Where was his head at? Sure, the guy could fuck, but without a condom?

Henry groaned as sweat broke out over his skin and his stomach somersaulted. He felt like death warmed up. The cold sweat, the shivers, the muscle cramps. He breathed through his mouth until his stomach settled. It couldn’t be something he’d eaten because he’d eaten so little in the last couple of days that there was nothing in his stomach. Yet, his stomach was acting like it had to get rid of what he’d had to eat.

Being ill plain old sucked ass.

Once his stomach settled—finally—Henry sighed. Sleep. What he needed was sleep and to wake up in a much better position than he was then. He couldn’t go through another day at work feeling like absolute shit. Not with the customers they had todeal with. He needed his wits and patience to get through the day.

Sighing softly, Henry relaxed as much as he could. Sleep. He needed to sleep.

Chapter Five

It took Gray far longer than he thought it would to access the club’s CCTV system and find the man he’d fucked. He’d then had to track him until he located where he lived. From there he’d accessed all the occupants of the building and got finally got a name.

Henry Boulder.

Apartment 4C.

From there, he’d performed a thorough background search while tracking two of Maxim’s men who were following a woman. Hugo, one of the enforcers, had managed to intervene, but he was alone, so when the two vampires ran, Hugo remained behind to ensure the human got home safely.

Maxim appeared to be up to something which, for now, Gray could only guess at. Years of hanging around the fringes of vampire and human society without being noticed had now changed. Maxim and his vampires had always been there committing various crimes, but there had been an escalation in recent months.

Gray needed to dig deeper and pinpoint exactly when their behavior had changed. The attack on Key wasn’t the first time Gray had seen Maxim’s men, but it had been the first time Maxim had been captured on CCTV.

This led Gray to believe they were up to something, or in the planning stages at least, and he had to find out what. He might not like humans much, but no one needed to be involved with Maxim and his merry band of fuckwits.

Checking the time, Gray closed his eyes and attempted to reach out to his mate. He got nothing, which could mean, well, nothing. What the fuck did he know about this mating mind linky thing? Shit, and now he sounded like Key. The human was rubbing off on him.

After searching social media, Gray had an idea of the layout of Henry’s place from pictures he’d posted. Concentrating, Gray closed his eyes and ‘saw’ Henry’s apartment and the next second he materialized in what was the living room and kitchen area. He didn’t move, but let his senses drift outward, assessing the area. When he picked up on nothing, he tilted his head, listening. There. The bedroom. Soft breathing with the occasional moan. Was his mate fucking someone?

A flash of anger coursed through Gray, his hands clenching, and he stormed over to the bedroom, ready to barge in and demand what the fuck was going on, then he stopped. The human wouldn’t understand why he was there, and he didn’t want to have the cops called.

The moaning reached him again, but this time he detected something he hadn’t the first time he heard it. Pain. The moan was underlined with pain. Stepping carefully into the bedroom, Gray focused on the bed, seeing his mate curled up in a fetal position.

---