Trevor drove down Route 14, the music bumping his favorite rap song as he threw his left hand in the air, rapping along with Pistol Grip Pump.
Trevor pulled into the podunk town and palmed the wheel, turning into the parking spot behind some tavern called Theo’s Bar and Grill. He wasn’t sure where he was. The sign he had passed a mile back said he was entering Pride Pack Valley. Trevor shut his car off, and the music died.
It was well after ten at night, prime time for him in the darkness because he was hungry as fuck and needed to eat. He crept behind the Dumpster, seeing the back door open to the tavern, only a thin screen door in the way, but he was able to see inside.
The prime piece of meat washing dishes was perfect. He cleared his throat and whimpered loud enough to get his meal’s attention. The dishwasher stopped what he was doing and came to the screen door, looking out into the back parking lot. Trevor whined again, imitating a hurt animal. His food pushed the door open and he walked out.
Trevor raced to the door with unbelievable speed, grabbing the man and pulling him to the side of the Dumpster.
This was too easy.
He sank his fangs into flesh, drinking heavily as the heady nectar began to ease the incredible pain in his stomach.
“Please,” the man cried. “Don’t hurt me.”
Trevor’s hunger began to ebb away. His stomach finally stopped hurting as he eased off of the man. He licked the wound closed and was mentally knocked on his ass when the sweetest aroma permeated his lungs.
“Please, I don’t have any money, but I could feed you.” The small man whined, curling around Trevor’s arm into a ball.
Trevor stood there blinking, trying desperately to clear his mind. There was no fucking way this human was his mate. His hand instinctively began to soothe the smaller man’s back, shushing him as he pulled him close to his chest. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, baby, I was just hungry. I’m sorry for scaring you.” Trevor nuzzled his mate’s hair, inhaling his intoxicating scent. “What’s your name, darling?”
Trevor moved back beside the Dumpster when a large man came to the screen door, opening it and looking around. “Sammy, you out here?”
He clamped a hand over his mate’s mouth, stopping him from calling out. Sammy nuzzled into Trevor’s hand, and he removed it, petting his mate’s hair to keep him calm.
“Sammy!” the large man shouted again. When his mate didn’t answer, the man cursed and almost ripped the door from the hinges as he stormed inside. Trevor knew he had only moments before reinforcements came looking for Sammy.
“Come with me, little darling.”
“I can’t. I have to work, or I won’t get paid,” Sammy said in a panic.
“I have money. You don’t need to work.”
“But I promised Jesse and Theo I would do it.” His little man struggled to free himself. “Please.”
Trevor studied him for a moment and then nodded, releasing him. “Where do you live?”
His mate pointed above the tavern to a set of darkened windows. “Up there.”
“Come back out here when the place closes.”
“Promise me, little darling.”
“I promise.” Sammy grinned at him and then ran back into the tavern, a loud voice asking him where he had taken off to. Trevor wanted to claw the man’s throat out for raising his voice to his mate, but he climbed back into his car instead and settled back.
A few hours later the back door opened, and Sammy stuck his head out, his eyes darting around as he looked for Trevor.
Trevor smiled. His mate was adorable. He reminded him of a mouse with his squeaky little voice and short stature.
He opened his car door, the interior light illuminating him. Sammy grinned widely when Trevor stepped out and walked over to him. “Can I come up?”
“But I don’t know you.” Sammy slid out of the back door and stood against the brick wall, his hands twisting together in front of him.
Trevor reached out and stilled his hands. “My name is Trevor, and I won’t harm you, I promise, little darling.”
His mate’s bottom lip poked out. “I’m not a little darling. I’m a grown man.”
Trevor chuckled at Sammy’s peeved statement. “I’m sure you are, little darling.”
“Then why do you keep calling me that?” the man asked irritably.
Trevor shrugged, leaning against the wall next to him. “Because you’re so short.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. The need to touch his mate was strong, and Sammy was too skittish right now. He wasn’t sure what happened to the trusting man from earlier, but Trevor was glad Sammy was on guard. He didn’t want his mate following blindly behind anyone, not even him.
Sammy glared at him. “You’re mean,” he said as he yanked the door open. Trevor reached out to stop him, gently seizing his wrist.
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“I still don’t know you, so you can’t come upstairs. It’s late, good night.” His mate pulled his hand free and yanked the door open, stomping through it. Trevor let him go.
He grinned widely. Sammy had fire. He liked that. No matter if the little rebel went inside, Trevor would keep coming back until his mate trusted him. He had waited too long to find the little bugger to let him just walk away.