Young Writers Society

Chapter Five: The Court

The address on the card didn't match what he'd thought the place would look like. Then again, the place should've been familiar to Chase. It was one of the few LGBT friendly places in the city. He fingered the tender skin at the back of his skull, wincing at the twinge of pain that laced through his head. How could his head still be so tender a week after he'd woken up in that rotten dumpster? He flipped the card over and stared hard at Hunter's name on the card. Could he really trust the guy?

The girl on the door sitting behind a computer offered him a warm smile. He shoved the card into his back pocket and stepped up to her little camera-and-computer set up. She asked for his ID, and he pulled it out. When he handed it to her, he saw the way her eyes widened for a moment before a mask seemed to slip back over her face. Chase found that curious, but he didn't question it as she logged his visit into the computer and took a photo. She knew who he was, and she'd been surprised that the big shot CEO of Blackwood Industries would come to a lowly nightclub.

Then again, it was well known that he batted for the wrong team. Truly a pity for all the eligible young ladies. Chase smiled absently as he took his ID back and entered the club. He glanced back just in time to see the girl pick up her phone and start talking. For a moment, Chase almost heard her words but then he was inside and the thumping music drowned her out.

He went straight for the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender, a big burly man, gave him a curious glance but went to get him a scotch and cola. It gave Chase a moment to scope out the place. A lot of people hadn't even noticed he was there, but then there were others who were staring. He quickly realised they were staring at him. Chase frowned, turning back to the bar just as the bartender brought his drink over. The man smiled at him and set the drink down.

"Scotch and cola, with a little extra," he said, and inclined his head. Chase noticed a bandaid on one finger that hadn't been there before. His frown deepened. "Enjoy."

"Thanks," he said, a little unsure of what the 'extra' was, and watched the man smile again. He walked away, back down the bar to see to another customer's drink. It was only after the man had left that Chase noticed he hadn't even been asked to pay for his drink.

Mentally shrugging it off to be considered later, Chase sipped his drink and froze. The 'extra' was something that blended with the smooth scotch and bubbly soda as if it always meant to be there. It tasted like he'd sucked on a copper coin too long, with a sharp aftertaste that startled him into putting the drink down abruptly.

"Something wrong?" someone asked from behind him, and Chase whirled around. He stopped short at the tall man with the tattoos peeking out from behind rolled up sleeves. Chase stood there, mouth hanging open, for a moment before he composed himself and leaned back against the bar. He cleared his throat and met the man's startling red gaze.

"No," he said evenly, "there's nothing wrong." He narrowed his gaze. "Who're you?"

"They call me The Fox," the man said, smiling at him. Something about that smile bugged him, but Chase couldn't place it. Maybe it was something to do with how the man seemed to have four canines instead of two? "I'm the boss around here and you appear to be new, Chase Blackwood."

"H-how--" Chase cut himself off, swallowing thickly. It was a stupid thing to ask. He shouldn't have listened to Eric or Hunter about coming to the club. Of course people would know who he was--and probably try to take advantage. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

The Fox shook his head. "You don't," he said, eyes fixed on Chase's face like a hungry wolf. Or fox. If the name fits..."But I know of you." Here, the man's smile turned sharp. "We all know of you."

Chase glanced past him, and found twenty sets of eyes following his every move. They even looked hungry, gaze roving over him as if he were a favourite meal. The looks unnerved him, but this man's gaze bothered him the most. Chase wasn't sure why. It looked almost familiar. "I...I don't know what you mean...."

The man sighed and reached around him to pick up Chase's drink. He took a sip and held it out for Chase, who accepted it with a frown. "Of course you do. We always know when one of our kind is around."

"Your...kind?" Chase asked, gaze dropping to the strange drink. "I don't understand."

"You will," The Fox told him, his tone soft. It was almost as if he were talking to a child. "You will understand everything, Chase. Just give it time."

He scowled and turned to put the drink down, sloshing some of it over the side of the glass and onto the counter. The bartender from before wandered back over. He was frowning, but Chase shot him a look that stopped him in his tracks. The bartender's gaze darted to the man behind him and Chase glanced back over his shoulder.

"What if I don't have the time?"

The Fox heaved another sigh and rolled his eyes. "He told me you might be difficult."

"I don't--"

"Yes, yes, I know," the man snapped, clearly impatient now. "You don't understand." He pinned Chase with a dark look. "But you will, as soon as he gets here." Chase felt the blood drain out of his face. Why did the mention of this mysterious 'he' bother him so much? The Fox gave him a small smile. It wasn't very comforting. "Oh, don't look so scared, little rabbit. We won't hurt you."

Chase felt his hackles rise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're panicking for no good reason, Chase." The new voice was both familiar and unfamiliar. Chase turned towards it and froze. The intruder was a man, tall and dark haired. Chase's frown returned, full force.

"Who are you?"

The man sighed. "Figures you'd forget," he said, joining The Fox and boxing him in against the bar. "We should take this upstairs, Lou. People are staring."

The Fox nodded and grabbed Chase by the arm, marching him around the end of the bar and towards a set of stairs that led to the second floor. The other tall man followed on their heels. "You were nearly too late, Antony," The Fox, also known as Lou, said as the reached the first landing and turned right. "You also interrupted something."

Antony chuckled. "Enjoying that kid I told you about?"

"Come now," Lou muttered, shoving open a door. "We don't bite and tell." He dragged Chase into what appeared to be an office. Complete with a startled kid sitting on the desk, holding one hand to his neck. He appeared to be very confused.

"Uh, boss," the kid asked, frowning. "What's going on?"

"Chase, Alec. Alec, Chase." Lou gestured between them before planting Chase firmly in one of the chairs that sat before the desk. Alec hopped off the desk and moved to lean against it. As he moved, his hand left his neck and Chase saw four neat puncture marks low on throat, right near his shoulder. They were bleeding. He was also hit full in the face with a blast of that copper-taste, only it was a smell now. He quickly realised what it was; blood. "Chase here seems a little confused. Why don't you go back to your room for now?"

Alec nodded and pushed off the desk. He gave Chase a frown before stalking out of the room. Chase twisted to watch him until he disappeared out into the hall. He was swiftly jerked back round to face the desk. Lou's angry face was less than an inch from his, and there were fingers digging into his shoulders. The red in his eyes seemed to be almost glowing slightly.

"You are not to look at him, got it?" the man demanded in a hiss and Chase nodded, swallowing again. Lou pulled away and planted himself against the desk. "Good."

"Possessive much?" Antony offered, taking a seat in the other chair. Chase flicked his gaze towards the other man, comparing him to Lou. They very clearly weren't related, but they did act like brothers. It was confusing. Lou shot Antony a glare.

"Shut up," he muttered, turning a glowering look on Chase. "We need to talk."