Bound in Blood by J. P. Bowie

offended. “ Well , I would never try to spoil Carlos’ date. I shall be the soul of tact, as always.” Carlos and Marcus looked at one another and smiled. Roger narrowed his eyes at Marcus. “You, on the other hand, Mister, will have to do without later tonight.”
    “Without what?” Marcus asked innocently.
    “You know what—what you crave from me incessantly!”
    Marcus raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow “That’s funny. I could swear it was the other way round.”
    “Huh!” For once, Roger seemed stuck for a comeback. Instead, he flounced towards the living room door with a, “Get ready, you two,” command that left Marcus chuckling.
    “I’ve said it before,” Carlos remarked, watching Roger’s exit, “but he is one of the most unusual vampires I’ve ever met.”
    “Roger is a one off, for certain,” Marcus agreed.
    “And he was mortal when you met.”
    “Yes.”
    “And how were you going to cope with that, if your ex-lover, Thomas, and the Comte hadn’t interfered and necessitated him being changed?”
    “We had talked about it,” Marcus said. “I had laid out the options for him. Just like Andorra’s blood gives Tony a longer life, so it could have been with Roger and me.” He gave BOUND IN BLOOD
    J. P. Bowie
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    Carlos a knowing look. “So it could be with you and the mortal of your choice. If he is, of course, willing.”
    “Yes, I have thought of that.” Carlos smiled as he remembered. “He responded, uh…very well to my blood the other night.”
    “Well…” Marcus chuckled softly. “Before you make any decision, see how he responds to meeting your friends tonight.”
    “Should I be concerned?”
    Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Roger will be there.”
    “Ah.”
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    J. P. Bowie
    60

Chapter Seven
    Ron Hendricks, the manager of La Fortuna and lover of vampire Jean-Claude Lepeltier, took a look round his empty restaurant and sighed with relief. The last of his customers had just left, and now, he could set up a table for his late night guests. A corner table, out of sight from those passing the restaurant’s window was already occupied by Jean-Claude. The slim and elegant Frenchman smiled at Ron as he hurried over carrying a tray of wine glasses.
    “Relax, mon cher ,” he said, taking a couple of the glasses from the tray and placing them on the table. “It will be a few more minutes before they arrive—time for us to enjoy a glass of wine, alone together.”
    Ron leant in for a kiss from his lover. “That sounds good. I brought a bottle of your favourite Pinot Noir up from the cellar.” Ron had long since explained these late night gatherings to the restaurant’s owner as a small club of wine connoisseurs. The owner, delighted with the extra revenue and the fact that Ron took care of it himself and had no need to pay any of the staff overtime had brought in some speciality wines for the ‘club’ to sample. If he wondered why all the white wines were ignored, he did not ask why.
    “You could always tell him we’re the Red Wine Society if he asks,” Roger had suggested. “You know, like the Red Hat one.”
    Ron smiled as he thought of Roger and Marcus and the others, and of how much his life had been changed since meeting Jean-Claude. Not as much as his friend Micah’s had been, he reflected with a wry twist to his lips. Ron was still a mortal, though destined to live longer than the normal span of human life, due to the occasional infusion of Jean-Claude’s blood.
    But Micah had made the decision to join Joseph in immortality after he and his lover, Joseph, had both narrowly escaped death at the hands of an evil vampire and a crazed demon.
    A tap at the door broke into his thoughts.
    “They’re early,” he said to Jean-Claude, pulling the cork from the bottle of Pinot Noir.
    “Could you let them in?”
    “Of course.” Jean-Claude squeezed Ron’s arm as he passed him on his way to the door.
    “Don’t be alarmed, but I think we have a