The smaller man clawed at the leather as Leland Hawkes wrapped it tight around his throat.

 

“Are you insane?” he demanded.

 

Keats Metcalf wriggled against him as he struggled to turn around and look over his shoulder. “Leland?” he gasped.

 

Leland relaxed his hold on the collar just far enough to let his friend drag a little air into his lungs.

 

Keats tugged at the leather again, fretting about the restriction around his neck as if that was the only thing in the world he needed to be worried about right then. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Stay still,” Leland snapped, doing up the buckles and fastening the wide collar tight around the other man’s neck.

 

Keats reached around and tried to slap his hands away, but that was little more than an irritating distraction. The final fastening clicked into place. The thick strip of leather practically covered Keats’ entire throat. It made Leland feel just a fraction better about the world.

 

Spinning his friend around, Leland pushed the smaller man up against the wall and held him easily in place with a hand in the centre of his chest. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

 

“I asked first!”

Leland glared down at his friend. Keats returned his inspection, all big blue eyes and floppy blonde hair. All ridiculously childish games wrapped in a grown man’s body that made Leland’s cock rise and his teeth ache.

 

“What are you doing here?” Leland asked again, saying each word very slowly as he fought to control both his temper and his libido.

 

Keats tilted his head on the side as he studied him, obviously not the least bit afraid of the fact a man with twice his strength had him pinned to the wall. He also seemed entirely at home with the fact he was stark bollock naked.

 

Leland took a deep breath and glared into Keats’ eyes despite the temptation to drop his gaze and admire the best view of Keats that had ever come his way.

 

“I’m investigating a secret society,” Keats whispered conspiratorially.

 

Leland stared down at him. “You’re…” He shook his head. Even for Keats, that was a new kind of crazy.

 

Keats squirmed against his hand, trying to push himself up onto his tiptoes and whisper to him. Against all sense, Leland found himself leaning down to make it easier for Keats to brush his lips against his ear.

 

“Vampires,” Keats whispered.

 

Every muscle in Leland’s body tensed. “What?”

 

Keats lips teased his cheek as he grinned. “They think they’re vampires.”

 

“They think they are vampires,” Leland echoed as he straightened back up to his full height.

 

Keats looked just a tiny bit repentant—like a puppy that had been caught chewing a slipper and now regretted displeasing his master.

 

“I know I said I’d stop with the paranormal stuff, but this really doesn’t count. They just think they are vampires. It’s not like that psychic woman. I swear. I’m not getting duped. I’m just spending Halloween with weird, gothy people who like to pretend they’re descendants of Dracula or something. They’re harmless—they don’t even want any money off me. Hell, they even offered to pay for my train ticket out here.”

 

Leland stared down at his friend. He was right about one thing if nothing else. It wasn’t money the men in that building would want from him. “And the fact they wanted you wandering around naked didn’t make you the least bit wary?” he asked.

 

“Okay, so they’re kinky, weird, gothy people. But—”

 

“Leland, has no one ever told you it’s bad manners to play with your food?”

 

Leland felt someone step up close behind him. “Go away,” he ordered, never looking away from Keats’ eyes.

 

A hand landed on his shoulder and pressed down as someone tried to look past him. “Oh, he’s pretty. Can I have him when you’re done?”

 

Keats gazed straight back at Leland, a slight frown gathering between pale eyebrows.

 

Leland heard another vampire join the one already standing behind him.

 

“Hey, no collaring the fresh blood!” Leland recognised the voice as that of his cousin, Harrison. He reached past Leland. His fingertips came within an inch of the collar.

 

Leland spun around pushing Keats behind him. “Taken!”

 

Harrison and his friend Grantly’s eye brows went up at the same time.

 

Leland looked back and forth between them.

 

“He’s a blood slave?” Harrison asked.

 

“Yes. Now sod off, both of you.”

 

Harrison looked past his shoulder. “He didn’t come in with you. Five minutes ago he was offering himself up to the whole clan. It can’t be official. And even if it is, it doesn’t look like he knows who he belongs to.”

 

Leland glared at his cousin. He always had been an officious little pillock, the kind of child who couldn’t wait to run off and tell teacher. He hadn’t improved with age. “He’s a blood slave,” Leland clarified. “My blood slave. And his submission is not an issue.”

 

“Um…Leland?”

 

He clenched his jaw. Of course Keats had to pick that precise moment to speak up. Why would he ever have expected anything different?