Released October 24, 2008 from Aspen Mountain Press
<<<<<<<<<< No Longer Available >>>>>>>>>>>>
Also, check out a few choice images in this gallery for a peek at Jack and Scott
It takes a special kind of virgin to bind a unicorn.
Scott would never have dreamed he was pure of body, heart and soul, but then he had no cause to believe unicorns even existed until he reluctantly drove to Del Fantasma late one night to rescue his stranded brother, Bryan.
Jack may be a unicorn, but he avoids virgins like the plague. The chances of meeting that special type of virgin is slim-to-none in bars like Del Fantasma and he delights in every opportunity to feed his own lusty appetites while he can. After all, a unicorn may be undeniably attracted to virgins but that doesn’t mean he has to be one himself.
Unfortunately for Jack’s plans, their bond is instantly formed when he meets Scott. Jack is now Scott’s to command. He just has to convince him what he is, something that sounds a lot easier than it is.
And Bryan? Well, it turns out that their meeting wasn’t entirely by chance. Bryan was instructed by a group of vampires to get the two together. Now that he has, can Jack and Scott discover the threat against them and save Bryan in time?
©2008 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved
Scott took a deep, steadying breath and walked into the bar. It was really very, well, ordinary. He’d expected a dark smoky den of iniquity and was quite taken aback to find a nice, but very normal looking bar. The moderate crowd that filled the tables and booths didn’t look like denizens of the underworld or like shadowy creatures of the night. He’d expected a much more seedy bar for some reason. Allowing himself another breath, he stepped into the dimmed light.
Bryan was sitting all alone at a table in the back, half watching a game of pool not far away. His big hand was curled around a mostly empty glass mug of what was probably beer. There were enough people in the bar but it didn’t feel terribly crowded to Scott so he didn’t start to panic. He kept his attention on Bryan as he navigated through the tables set in the middle of the room.
Bryan caught sight of him and sat up straighter. Oddly, his gaze shifted around the room like he was looking for someone. Did he have a friend here? If so, why’d he call Scott to pick him up?
Scott reached the table but Bryan didn’t stand. He looked awful. Probably not drunk, but definitely a few sheets to the wind. His brown eyes were red around the edges, which just made the dark circles under his eyes look worse. The dim lighting disguised the gray tone that had been in his skin lately. Scott wondered again if maybe he should suggest Bryan go to a doctor. He gave Scott a lame, drunken smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” When Bryan still didn’t stand, Scott raised his eyebrows. “Well? Let’s go.”
“What’s your hurry?” He gestured at the other chair at the small little table. “Stay awhile.”
“Are you crazy? No way.” He glanced back toward the door, relieved to see the path still clear. “Let’s go.”
“Oh come on.” Bryan kicked at an empty chair to move it away from the table. “Have a seat. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“I have to drive us home.”
Bryan ignored him, holding up his hand toward the bar.
Aghast, Scott glanced toward the bar to see a big, muscular man with dark hair, a military look about him, acknowledge Bryan’s beckon. He turned back on his brother. “What the heck? It’s after one. Isn’t it closing time yet?”
“Nah. Cody’s got some deal with the locals. He stays open ‘til nearly dawn most nights. Sit.”
Not surprising. The bar’s nearest neighbors were at least two or three plots of land away on any side. The bar wasn’t likely to cause a disturbance. “Look, I didn’t come all the way down here to have a drink.”
“It’s not that far.”
“I need to go to bed.”
“What? You have to be up early?”
Bryan frowned, reaching up to comb a hand through his short red hair. “No, you don’t. Jesus, Scott, would you sit the fuck down and live just a little.”
Scowling, Scott sat. It wasn’t like he could drag Bryan out of there. Bryan, half again as big as him, was a man who worked construction, where Scott worked on computers. Scott was hopelessly slight next to Bryan’s brawn, another mark of their different fathers.
“There you go. See? Did that hurt?”
Petulant, Scott folded his arms over his chest and glared at his brother.
Bryan, for his part, kept glancing around the bar. Nervous.
Scott kept staring at him, wondering what would happen if he just left. “Are you here with someone?” Who was he kidding? He’d never strand anyone if he could help it so he couldn’t just get up and leave.
“You keep looking for someone.”
“What? Oh, no. Just, uh, looking. You know.”
Scott narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Going on? Nothing. Jeez. Why’re you so suspicious? I’m bummed about my car breaking down, and I haven’t had any luck with picking anyone up tonight. Let me have one more beer to drown my sorrows.”
“Pick someone up? You and Margaret break up?”
Bryan winced. “We were never really a couple.”
“Oh? You spent enough time with her.”
Bryan laughed. “You don’t know anything about women like Margaret, Scott.”
Scott didn’t know anything about women-or men-period, but he let that go. “She stop seeing you?” He hoped so. He’d only met the woman once but she gave him the creeps.
“She said we’re through until I do something for her.”
“Do something? What?”
Bryan shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.” Again he cast his glance around but this time he seemed to find what he was looking for. His eyes lit up, pointed somewhere behind Scott toward the front entrance.
Scott was just about to turn and look when the bartender stepped up to their table and placed a strange concoction before him. Pale, opaque fluid filled a martini glass but the drink itself was nearly hidden underneath an absurd collection of brightly colored cocktail stirrers. A few of the stirrers had animals at their tips, mainly horses and fish. The bartender set a fresh beer down in front of Bryan.
“Wait.” Scott looked up at the man. “I didn’t order this.”
The man smiled. “It’s on the house.”
The man smiled as he turned to go. “It’s called a unicorn. You’ll like it.”
# # #
Jack sauntered back into the bar, the sated werecat at his back. Sighing, he reached up to finger-comb his past-shoulder length curls, realizing he was going to need to visit the bathroom first before he could sit down. Alex slid a hand down his back in a friendly caress. Jack threw a smile over his shoulder and they parted gracefully, Alex back toward his friends at the pool table, and Jack toward the restroom sign in the back.
Halfway across the bar, he recognized the tingle crawling just under his skin, creeping over his scalp, seeping into his chest. It was different than the after-sex tingle, but the recent sex feel had initially disguised it. Freezing in his tracks, he frowned, staring at the scuffed floor. Oh no. It couldn’t be. Not that! He didn’t dare look up. Determined, he kept on course toward the restrooms despite a growing need to veer toward the right. No, no, no. This isn’t happening.
He reached the little two-stall restroom by sheer force of will. Thankfully, no one else was there so he took his time with the disposable towels, soap and hot water to freshen up. He hadn’t done too much damage to his white dress shirt and he’d been careful enough not to spill in or on his jeans.
As he was again finger combing his unruly platinum locks, he felt something on his forehead that froze him again. His own crystal blue eyes stared at him, wide and frightened in the mirror, as he ran the pads of his fingers over the hard lump just beneath his widow’s peak. “No!” he hissed, glaring at the spot that was a few shades yellower than his pale skin. “Go away!”
The bathroom door opened, startling him. The new arrival headed straight for the urinals, not looking Jack’s way as he unzipped.
Trance broken, nothing left to do, Jack gave himself one last once over. Where earlier tonight he’d been confident and cocky, now he was just wary and starting to get pissed. He didn’t even bother asking “why me”, knowing it was a fruitless question.
He left the restroom, forcing himself to remain calm. He studiously did not look to his left as he headed for the bar, pulling out his wallet. “Cody,” he called when he got there, “what do I owe you?”
As he was sifting through bills, a glass coffee mug was set before him. He frowned at the fizzy drink, the bubbles pushing a citrus aroma into the air, light but enough for his sensitive nostrils to pick up. He gave Cody the eye. “What’s this?”
The man who had started to become a friend gave him a level stare that Jack didn’t like one damn bit. “Your drink.”
Jack’s nostrils flared. Cody was famous in paranormal circles as not only a vampire but a matchmaker extraordinaire. He liked to announce such matches with special drinks. Jack had seen him do it a few times with much amusement. He’d never wanted to be the recipient of one. “What’s it called?” he asked, against his better judgment.
“Death of a virgin.”