Page 1 of Bound in Blood (Vampires of Boston #1)
Chapter
One
LOGAN
T he night Logan Grayson died began the exact same as any other: behind the bar, pouring drinks for people who wouldn’t remember his name tomorrow.
Six months in Boston, and Logan still wasn’t used to the crowds or the noise.
He wasn’t sure he’d formed a single clear thought since stepping off the plane.
He’d always believed it was an exaggeration that cities like this never slept, but as the clock above The Pyre, the bar where he worked, ticked closer and closer to the 2 AM closing time, the crowd only seemed to get louder, more energetic.
This was a far cry from the dead silence of his one-stoplight hometown, where you couldn’t walk two feet from your doorstep without everyone in town knowing within the hour. Logan, personally, loved the change of pace.
He was leaning over the counter of the bar, stretching out his back and listening in on a million different conversations, patrons slowly starting to drift out as the time shifted closer and closer to last call.
It was slow for a Friday night, which is to say not so slow that Logan had to look for busy work, but slow enough that he could actually converse with his regulars, which he mildly enjoyed.
“I don’t care if you’re from Texas, they still suck. You’d be better off transferring your allegiance to Boston and calling it a day, Grayson.” Logan’s personal favorite regular, a tall, burly Russian man named Alexei, half laughed, half shouted from his seat at the bar.
“Look at the standings, man, Boston isn’t that good anymore.
Especially not after the shit they pulled at the trade deadline last year,” Logan quipped back as he slid the man another beer.
“And that’s your last drink tonight. Ask me for anything else and I’m giving you water but charging you for Grey Goose. ”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Alexei held a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Listen, just come to one game with me, I swear it’ll be worth it.”
Logan opened his mouth to argue, even though a free night out sounded nice, when the front door swung open, and the two hottest men Logan had ever seen walked through the door, and suddenly, Logan’s tongue didn’t want to work.
Twins. Identical twins, by the look of it, and Logan was definitely looking.
They were both inconceivably tall, with hair so black it was almost blue and golden-tinted eyes.
Though their faces were identical, it was the differences that caught Logan’s attention.
The twin on the left wore his hair longer, just past his chin.
His style exuded a kind of ’80s grunge look, complete with a leather jacket, a distressed classic rock tee, and cuffed dark-wash jeans.
Like someone who rolled out of bed, grabbed his clothes off the floor, and still managed to look cool.
The twin on the right, though, dressed like he had just left some hedge fund meeting, or whatever rich businessmen did on weekdays.
His hair was short and gelled perfectly into place.
His tan suit didn’t have a wrinkle to be seen; his light blue collared shirt looked like something expensive enough to have been dry cleaned.
He observed the bar around him with a bored expression, like he’d much rather be at home reading about stocks.
Logan, unfortunately, found both aesthetics to be very hot.
His brain was horrifyingly stuck on the question of whether sex with either of them was the same or completely different.
Left-Twin was definitely giving off the energy of someone who liked it a bit dangerous, while Logan would put money on the fact that Right-Twin would hold you down and?—
Jesus Christ. These were customers. Logan needed to stop. Immediately.
Alexei’s laughter broke through his trance, a note just a bit too sharp for the melody that had begun fluttering behind Logan’s eyes. “What’s the matter, Grayson? Cat got your tongue?”
Logan blinked, blush creeping up his neck as he tore his attention away from the handsome strangers. Alexei briefly followed his gaze before chuckling again, a bit louder this time, “Ah, two cats.”
“Finish your beer and get the hell out of my bar before I call the KGB. I will consider the hockey game offer.”
Alexei raised his hands in mock surrender, chuckling to himself, “All right, all right. I will leave you to whatever pathetic flirting you’re about to attempt.”He paused for a moment, glancing over at the twins with what Logan read as slight apprehension before adding, “For now.”
Logan rolled his eyes, waving off the other man and attempting to busy himself by wiping down the bar.
If his gaze happened to flick up to the twins a few.
.. several times, who cares? They had laid claim to a section of the bar at the far end of his counter, heads bent slightly as they murmured to each other.
Even from this distance, Logan could feel the weight of their presence on his chest, like the very air around him thickened when they walked in.
Logan’s fingers tightened around the rag in his hand, trying to calm himself. Sure, they were so fucking hot , but they were still just customers.
“Grayson!” Alexei, who had been ignored for exactly two minutes and was clearly fed up, shouted, “Are you going to ignore me all night? I thought we had something special!”
Logan rolled his eyes, flashing the man a crude gesture as he slid an ice water to him, replacing the now-empty beer glass.
Alexei grinned, raising his eyebrows and nodding toward the twins, batting his eyelashes suggestively.
Logan hesitated a moment, stopping to glare at the Russian before making his way to the other side of the bar.
He pasted on his best customer service smile as he approached, though he could feel his heart beating like it was trying to escape his chest.
Okay, but this was no big deal, right? Hot men came into the bar all the time. That’s all they were, right? Two very hot men, sitting at the end of his bar.
Two very hot men who had already caught him staring. That had also, Logan was pretty sure, had been staring back. God, his palms were damp. Was that normal? He wiped them on his apron before they noticed.
Maybe he should have taken another lap around the bar first? Checked on all his regulars, looked busier. Less obviously eager to speak to the newcomers, at least?
No, best he could do was pretend he wasn’t borderline drooling over them the second they walked in.
“Evening,” he said, voice remaining steady despite his body’s best attempts to betray his nervousness, “Can I get y’all anything?”
Left-Twin grinned up at him from his seat, golden eyes gleaming mischievously under the dim bar lighting, “Y’all? Are you a cowboy?” He spoke with a hint of an Italian accent, and Logan wanted to faint.
Okay, deep breath. Logan could be normal about this.
“Something like that.” Logan tried his best to match his easy smile. “Just moved here from Texas.”
The man’s grin widened, the sharpness of his features softening slightly with his amusement. “Well, you know what they say about Texas? Only steers and?—”
“Mateo.” The sharp voice of Right-Twin cut him off. His voice sounded more or less the same, but Right-Twin spoke more… measured. Precise. He said one word, but that one word was all he needed.
“What? They do say that!” He looked up at Logan. “Tell him, cowboy.”
Logan leaned in a little closer, emboldened by Mateo’s cocky grin and said, “I know the expression, but since I’ve known you two seconds and I’m already offended, I’m going to pretend I don’t.”
Mateo laughed, warm and unrestrained, nudging his brother. “I like him, Marco.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Logan was pretty sure he hadn’t been this overtly flirted with in the six months he’d lived here. Even longer since Logan had the desire to flirt back. He was out of practice. He was absolutely going to drop dead of sheer embarrassment behind this bar.
Right-Twin— Marco —pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Apologies for my brother,” he said, with a long-suffering I’m-fed-up-with-you tone , “I wish I could say he’s having an off day, but he’s always like this.”
“No worries. Ask any regular, Texas-based insults are practically currency around here.” He leaned his hip against the bar, folding his arms in a way that he hoped made him look at least a little cool. “Y’all just passing through? Don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
Mateo looked Logan up and down appraisingly, then over at his brother, seeming to communicate without saying a word.
Logan shuddered under his scrutiny, like Mateo had physically reached out and touched him.
“We figured we’d switch up the routine. Now that I know you’re here, though,” he glances down at the name-tag hanging from Logan’s apron, “Logan… I think you might be seeing a lot of us.” He winked, causing his brother’s eyes to roll and Logan’s heart to stutter all in the same beat.
Logan raised an eyebrow, trying so hard to play it cool. “As long as you tip well. Don’t be like Alexei over there.” He gestured to the regular, whisper-yelling, “ He thinks because he’s not American he doesn’t have to follow our tipping customs.”
Alexei looked up from his ice water, grinning down at them. “You want a tip?”
“I swear to God if you’re not about to follow up with actual money, Morozov, I will water down your drinks until the day I die.” Logan growled, pointing an accusatory finger.
Alexei put a hand over his heart in mock offense. “This is why you make no money, Зайчик ? * you are mean to those who only want to be your friend.”
“Stop calling me words I don’t know, Alexei, I can’t even figure out if I should be insulted.” Logan sighed, rolling his eyes. “And if that is an insult, I’m having Vik ban you from the bar.”