Changing Fortunes

Part 6

Cam was rudely awakened by his cell phone chirping perkily in his ear. He'd passed out the night before; after stomping back to the van and polishing off a six pack in no time flat. He'd been coherent enough to remember to put the phone near his ear, in case Balint called his cell, so he had rising hopes when he answered the phone.

Only to be greatly disappointed when it wasn't Balint. In fact, the person was looking for Balint. "Quicksilver," the voice said. A man's voice Cam didn't recognize but the fact that they used Balint's work name meant that it was one of their clients. Balint must have forwarded his cell to Cam's.

Balint was usually the contact person for these jobs but they knew of "Nightshade," which was Cam's work name. "This is Shade," he told the man, "what do you need?"

"Ah yes," the man purred, "Nightshade. Have you rid me of that nuisance that has been plaguing me?"

Cam's fuzzy brain thought a moment, trying to figure out who the fuck this was. All of his and Balint's patrons wanted "nuisances" gone. That was their job. They removed the vermin and their clients paid them their reward. But this person was asking if the job had been done already, which meant it had to be in process. One they were on now.

Oh fuck. Sarin. Not only had they not killed Angelo yet, but he got another one of Sarin's prizes. Even though he'd never dealt with Sarin before, he knew enough people who had and from that, he'd gleaned how Sarin operated. Sarin knew that they hadn't made their kill, he was just playing with them and probably had some of his goons waiting outside the van. They weren't within range or Cam would've felt them, would've felt their rage at least. No, they were somewhere in Sargot City's Old Quarter, waiting to confront him about their failure.

Balint was the contact because he was the most diplomatic, he knew how to talk to clients, how to get the best prices and to reassure them. Cam may have known how to charm a potential lay but when it came to diplomacy, he usually let his weapons do the talking. But he had to do something because if he got killed because of this, no one would save Balint from those psycho boys.

Now, how would Balint handle this, he wondered. Balint would be confident, even if they were fucking up. And he'd not only be polite, but his grammar would be impeccable, which coming from a Gypsy was kind of incredible. "Mr. Araby," Cam began, using Sarin's surname like Balint would, "when we accepted this contract, it was understood that we'd have a week. Is that correct?"

"Are you saying that you can't handle this assignment, Nightshade?"

"Not at all," Cam answered smoothly. "I'm saying that based on the bounty, this nuisance of yours is not going to be eradicated in one or even two days. We will fulfill our contract. If you thought it would be an easy kill, you would have employed your own men."

"I employed experts," Sarin replied, "and I expect results. This is the third day, Nightshade. You have four more days. If any more of my beauties get maimed in those four days, consider your grace period over. I suggest you make a greater effort to kill that brat or you will be the ones that are eradicated. Is that understood?"

Cam bit back the curses that were on the tip of his tongue. "It's understood, Mr. Araby."

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Nightshade," Sarin said in a deceptively pleasant tone before hanging up, but Cam caught the unsaid words.

It may be your last.

Cam's head was pounding through his ears, he drank way too much, which was stupid considering that he'd need all his mental faculties today. What time was it anyway?

He looked at his watch and almost choked. Two in the afternoon. Cam had wasted over half this day in a fucking stupor.

That was enough to completely sober his ass up.

Well if he had company waiting for him, Cam had better be prepared. Not that he was planning on blowing away any of Sarin's men if he could help it. No, that would guarantee bigger, more dangerous henchmen and Cam didn't want to deal with that when he still had to worry about Balint.

Cam figured that the Nocturne would be the place to retrieve Balint. Cam had his knives since they'd probably be necessary if Angelo and Weasel didn't hand Balint over as promised. Cam knew that there was a great possibility that he'd have to take a hostage in exchange for Balint, but as much as he'd have loved to bring his gun, he also knew there was no way he'd get past any of Ardoin's flunkies with a lot of firepower.

There was only one problem. In the short amount of time he'd been scoping the club out, he noticed that not only did it not open until the nighttime, the door was always guarded. Cam had to find a way in there, but how?

Then he remembered a flyer he'd seen the first day he and Balint arrived here.

Sanctuary. The Underground would protect anyone who claimed "Sanctuary."

That would be his way in. Cam would swear his hatred of the World Association of Superior Persons – which really wouldn't be a stretch – and try to join the Underground. All he had to do was get in the door. Once he did that, he was home free and could find Balint.

Cam walked down the stairs but was not surprised to see some musclehead guarding the door. He would have been surprised if there weren't. But it wasn't gonna stop him either.

"Nocturne doesn't open til seven," the guy barked.

Cam gave him a tentative smile, instantly falling into character. "Not here for the Nocturne," he mumbled, "this is where they said I had to go to join."

"To join?"

"Yeah."

The guy's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Join what, kid?"

"The Underground," Cam whispered.

Cam watched as the guy sized him up, his eyes raking over Cam's body, making him speculate if looks were the only ticket into the Underground. When he saw the guy nod, his suspicions were confirmed. "I don't see a problem with you getting in."

Cam was disgusted. He was beginning to think that the Underground was nothing but a Pet's Stable. "What do I have to do to get in," he asked in an anxious voice.

"That depends," the guy answered, leering, "what are you willing to do?"

"With you?"

The guard must have heard the acid in Cam's tone because he immediately backed down. "Not necessarily."

Damned right, Cam thought to himself. "With who then?"

"You don't have to sleep your way into the Underground," the guard blurted, as if he'd just realized that was what he just heavily implied. Or that Cam wasn't as stupid as he pretended to be. Cam wondered how many boys and girls did have to sleep their way in.

"Okay," Cam said, dropping the dumb act, but still retaining the scared kid role. "How do I get in?"

The guard regained his composure. "I'm not the one you need to talk to. And she won't be around until the club opens."

Cam wasn't deterred. Maybe the contact person wasn't there but that didn't mean the guard couldn't give him info. Or an excuse to step inside. He gave the guard a conspiratorial grin. "Yeah, but you know the deal, right? Maybe you can tell me what I need to know and," the grin turned suggestive, "perhaps we can work something out."

Cam didn't have to be an empath to know that he'd just pushed the right buttons. This time he let his eyes move up and down the guard's body in a way that left no question about his possible intentions. The guard's smile was hungry, like a wolf that'd just trapped a sheep. "We could at that," he purred.

"Please," Cam begged, "I'll do anything to get in."

"Anything?" the guard asked, practically licking his chops.

"Um, yeah," Cam stammered, pulling back the carrot he'd just dangled.

Instead of pissing him off, Cam's not quite virginal attitude seemed to pique the guard's interest. Just like Cam knew it would. "Okay. Are you healthy?"

Cam glared at him. "What are you, kidding? If you're worried about catching something from me then maybe we shouldn't-"

"No, no, no," the guard interrupted, "I don’t mean that."

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"They…" the guard hesitated, looking very uneasy. Then he tried again. "They want to know. They won't take you if you're not clean. No drugs. No booze. No sickness. Nothing."

That made sense to Cam, of course they'd only take the fittest recruits. "I'm clean," Cam told him. "What else?"

"You got family? They want things as uncomplicated as possible, which means," the guard smiled thinly, "no ties."

That also made sense. They wanted his complete loyalty and didn't want to worry about interference from family members. "No family to speak of, Dad ran off before I was born and Mom died when I was a baby." True enough.

"How about skills? Talents? Gifts?"

Cam thought a minute of what he could say, understanding that the Underground wanted people who were useful. He was sure the Underground would find all of his "skills," "talents" and "Gifts" quite valuable, but Cam did not want this flunky to know about any of them. "What if I don't have any?'

"If that's the case," the guard suddenly whispered as if he was afraid of being heard, "stay away from the Underground. Unless you got something to offer them, they'll take what they want from you."

"Like my body?"

"There are worse things," the guard said softly, his eyes haunted. "Much worse things. Go now, while you still have the chance. If you're not careful, they'll find YOU first."

Something about the dread the guard was radiating so strongly reminded Cam about the rumors he'd heard about the Nocturne. Then he realized, it wasn't just the Nocturne, those rumors were about the Underground. And he had a good idea of specifically who in the Underground had gained such notoriety.

The fact that this bruiser was afraid of the little bastard made Cam want to laugh, but he hid it. "You trying to scare me off, or something?" he asked.

The guard stared at him. "I'm taking a big risk by warning you and all you can do is ask me if I'm trying to scare you?" Cam could see his expression harden, the trepidation in his eyes turning to anger, then contempt. As if Cam had blown his chance and now he was gonna get what he deserved. He shrugged. "Your funeral."

This overacted drama was beginning to bore Cam and precious seconds were being squandered. The time for subtlety was over. "I thought you wanted something else but maybe I was wrong." Cam began to stroke himself through his jeans.

An oily smile replaced the grimace that'd been on his lips moments before. He looked around a second. "Come on, but hurry."

"After this I get in, right?" Cam unbuttoned his jeans.

The guard's tongue moistened his lips. "Sure, whatever."

He reached for Cam but Cam slapped his hand. "Not whatever. It's either yes or no. And if it's no," Cam unzipped his fly, "you don't get this."

"Not here, for fucking crying out loud," the guard hissed. "Follow me."

"Aren't you guarding the door?" Cam asked innocently.

"The club won't open for another hour. Besides, my shift is almost over. What the boss doesn't know won't hurt him."

One hour! That barely gave Cam any time at all to search for Balint in this place before the people began to trickle in. He'd have to make this very quick. "If you say so."

The guard stepped aside just long enough to let Cam through the door, then cocked his head towards a side wall a few feet away from the door. Worked for Cam.

Cam flashed him an inviting smile and proceeded to pull his cock out through the flap of his briefs, the thought of what he was about to do making him hard as hell.

The guard took one look and bent his head down to take Cam in his mouth.

And that was when Cam's knee shot up and smashed the guard in the chin. "No one is gonna tell me I have to put out for anyone," he snarled before kicking the guard in the ribs over and over again.

Guns were great but every once in a while, good old fashioned violence did it for Cam just as nicely.

To his surprise the guard began to laugh, even though the pain he was broadcasting was so intense Cam had to shield himself against it. "I could call for reinforcements but I won't have to. You think you're such a badass, kid? Just you wait, you'll see."

Cam smirked and buttoned his jeans. "Yeah? You're terrifying me, what's gonna happen?"

The diabolical smile on the guard's face made Cam more uneasy than any of his warnings had. "The sun just went down," he said just before losing consciousness.

No reinforcements were a good thing. Someone working the next shift at the door was not only damned inconvenient but risky because they'd find the guard's knocked out body but hopefully by then, Cam and Balint would be long gone, on their way back to their van where their own reinforcements would guarantee no more problems from any of Ardoin's henchmen.

Cam did a quick look see around the club and saw a dance floor with some cages, some tables near the dance floor, and towards the far left, a bar. Nice enough but nothing that explained why the lines were always so long unless it wasn't the décor itself that drew the crowds but the decorative people that graced the Nocturne.

But that wasn't what Cam was looking for. If this was the supposed headquarters of the Underground, then there had to be a secret passageway for the seamier goings on. Cam just had to uncover it.

And that was where he knew he'd find Balint.

The first place to check was their stockroom. Bars and clubs always had a place where the booze and other goodies were kept, what better place than that for a hidden entrance. It was locked of course, but there had yet to be a lock that Cam couldn't pick.

All for nothing. The only things Cam found were some bottles of very cheap wine, smaller bottles of some liquor or other that Cam had no idea about because the writing was in some other language and lettering, and the other things that Cam had expected to find. He stripped the shelves, feeling along the wall for any indication of a concealed entrance, but coming up empty.

That was a total waste of time, and the club was supposed to open in a half hour. Cam was running out of options.

He discreetly took a peek towards the door. No one there yet. Good.

Cam looked around and noticed that there was a wall right in back of the dance floor. A vast expanse of wall that looked completely innocuous. Bingo.

Cam could practically hear the clock ticking as he felt around for a trigger that would open the passageway he was almost positive was there.

Nothing. Fuck. And it was almost time for the Nocturne to open.

Cam stomped the floor in frustration. Then to his delight, the wall swing around to reveal a flight of stairs. He grinned so hard that he felt like his face would split.

Now to see where these stairs led to….

"Cammie!"

Balint came bounding down the stairs like a shot, throwing his arms around Cam and covering his face in kisses.

Cam had wondered if he'd ever hold Balint in his arms again, it felt so good to have him snuggling in them now. "You okay?"

Balint's answer was to kiss Cam's mouth hard and disengage from his arms. "We've got to go, baby."

Cam grinned. "That was the plan."

"I mean now."

The club was beginning to fill with people, and Cam could see that there was another boy guarding the door already. Couldn't get any better timing than that. Cam and Balint just walked out the door, as if they were club patrons that happened to be leaving.

The walk back to the van seemed to take forever, but as soon as they reached it, Balint was all over Cam, tearing at his clothes and pulling him down to the floor. Balint's kisses were hungry and filled with passion, and Cam eagerly made quick work of his partner's clothes, his lips roaming all over Balint's hot flesh. His tongue teased the Gypsy boy's nipples until they hardened.

Balint stretched out like a lazy cat under Cam's ministrations, his hazel eyes darkening with lust. "Mmmm, you keep doing this and I'll come before you're even inside me."

"We can't have that," Cam murmured, his mouth moving lower until he was licking between Balint's thighs. "I'll just have to make you come again."

And that was when he saw it. A bruise. Right below Balint's cock. Just like the one Cam had seen the night before on a different boy. Who'd been blown by Angelo.

<< Chapter 5 --- Chapter 7 >>

Last updated 2/13/03

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