In the Blink of an Eye

Chapter 1 “Where the hell are you?” Craig said under his breath as he looked around the busy club, trying to locate Scott. They’d come to The Avenue to celebrate Scott’s twenty-fifth birthday with their friends. Everyone was having fun, drinking, dancing, sharing stories about how they’d met Scott. There was even some good-natured teasing about the fact Scott was now halfway to middle age—which he had accepted with his usual good humor. Then Scott had told Craig he needed to hit up the men’s room. That had been twenty minutes ago and he still hadn’t returned to their table. “Maybe he stepped out for some fresh air,” Janie suggested, obviously getting that Craig was worried. “I’d have seen him, if he did,” Craig protested. “In this crowd?” Janie replied. “Call him.” She had a point, so Craig took out his phone, punching in Scott’s number. The phone rang three times before he was sent to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message. He’d been with Scott long enough to know when they went out together he often turned off his phone. “Because the last thing I want is some i***t trying to sell me life insurance in the middle of dinner, or a movie,” was Scott’s excuse. Or in this case, celebrating your birthday. Craig understood, but right now it was frustrating. “Okay, everyone, let’s spread out and find Scott before Craig has a panic attack, wondering if he hooked up with someone in the restroom,” Dave, another of their friends, said with a grin. “That’s not funny,” Craig grumbled. “Sorry, man.” Dave patted his back. “He’s probably somewhere in this mass of people, maybe talking to someone he knows from work, or whatever. But it wouldn’t hurt for us to see if we can find him.” The group of friends nodded before leaving the table, each of them going in a different direction. Craig headed straight for the club’s entrance, stopping to ask Felix, the doorman, if he’d seen Scott leave. Since Craig and Scott came there on a fairly regular basis, Felix knew who he meant and shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since the two of you got here.” Craig believed him, but he still went outside to make certain Scott wasn’t doing as Janie had said, getting some fresh air, away from the crowd and the noise. He even went into the parking lot next door, where they’d left the car, in case Scott was there for some reason. He wasn’t. By the time Craig returned to the club, his friends were back at their table. “Nothing. Nada,” Dave said. “It’s like he vanished off the face of the earth. I was going to check the back alley, but there’s an alarm on the door. Probably to keep anyone from sneaking in some underage kid. We’re close enough to the door I think we’d have heard the alarm, if it went off.” “He’s not out front, either,” Craig said. “Did anyone check the men’s room?” “Yeah,” Bob replied. “No luck there.” “Just out of curiosity,” Dave asked Craig, “Are the two of you getting along all right?” “If you mean have we been fighting? Not even. Things have never been better between us. We’re even talking about moving in together.” “About time,” Janie said. She had a point, Craig figured, since he and Scott had been dating, and more, for the last two years. “We just have to decide…” he started to say when the lights flicked off, then on again—the club’s signal it was closing time. “It’s that late?” he asked in surprise. “One-fifty and counting,” Dave replied, tossing back the last of his drink. “So I guess we’d better move it.” “Not without Scott,” Craig said, in a voice which brooked no argument. “Craig, if he’s in here somewhere,” Janie put her arm around his waist, “he’ll have to leave by the front door, right? We’ll wait outside for him.” Reluctantly, Craig let her steer him out of the club. When they were on the sidewalk, he planted himself at the curb, his gaze locked on the door and the people leaving. Scott didn’t appear, and by ten after two, neither did anyone else. The doorman stepped back inside, closing the door and, Craig presumed, locking it. “Are you okay to drive home?” Dave asked him. “If you mean, have I had too much to drink, I haven’t. If you mean because I’m scared shitless something’s happened to Scott, I am, but standing here isn’t going to do anything. I’m going to go by his place, just in case, for some crazy reason, he did manage to sneak out and went home.” “Do you want company?” Janie asked. “No. Thanks for offering, but, no.” Craig said goodbye to her and Dave, then walked quickly to his car. * * * * At the same time, in a mansion well outside the city, a dark figure looked down at the naked man lying on a bed in one of the upstairs rooms. “Soon, you’ll belong to me for all eternity, if it’s what you desire,” the figure said softly as he checked the restraints binding the man’s hands and feet to the bedposts. Then he bent, turning the man’s head to one side, and bit into his throat, taking a deep drink. When he’d sated his need, he bit into his own wrist before pressing it to the man’s lips, gripping his jaw to force his mouth open, then stroking the man’s throat until he swallowed the blood offering. With that accomplished, the figure sat on the edge of the bed—waiting. * * * * Craig’s trip to Scott’s apartment told him nothing. Scott’s car was still in the parking lot behind the building, since Craig had been the one to drive them to the club. Using the keys Scott had given him several months previously, he entered the building, and then Scott’s apartment. As far as he could tell, everything was as it should be. And I should know, as often as I’ve been here. He did check Scott’s closet, on the off chance his boyfriend had come home and changed clothes for some reason. There was no sign of the jeans and shirt he’d been wearing at the club. Frustrated, worried, and he had to admit just a bit angry, Craig headed home. He hoped he’d find Scott there, with some excuse, no matter how lame, for sneaking out of the club. He wasn’t. “God damn it, where the hell are you!” He paced the living room, trying to think of any reason Scott would have taken off without telling him why—and came up blank. That they cared for each other was a given at this point in their lives. Was it love? Neither of them had said the word, so maybe it wasn’t—yet. But it’s damned close. He wouldn’t have left the club of his own volition. But if someone tried to force him to go with them, wouldn’t people have noticed? Felix would have, for sure, since he was manning the door. Craig tried calling Scott again, with the same result as before. The call went to Scott’s voicemail. He left a message. “Call me. I’m worried sick. Where are you?” Knowing it was the best he could do for the time being, he got ready for bed. As soon as he was out of the shower, he checked his phone. There hadn’t been any calls. With a deep sigh, he crawled into bed then lay there, staring up at the ceiling as he envisioned every possible scenario, from someone at the club attacking Scott then hiding his body somewhere, to them drugging him then, somehow, getting him outside by convincing Felix their ‘friend’ had had too much to drink. Or waiting until Felix was too busy carding people entering the club to notice them leaving. He figured that was unlikely, given the late hour. But not impossible. Of course someone who works at the club could have disarmed the alarm on the back door then spirited Scott away. They have to be able to turn it off for deliveries or…whatever. Eventually, Craig fell asleep, vowing to go back to Scott’s apartment as soon as he got up Saturday morning, to see if he’d come home, yet.