by Jenn Burke
“What’s wrong?”
“Evan’s locked the door to his room,” Isk said, his voice sounding even worse over the phone than it did in person. “I was out at Mom’s with Rosanna, and when I got home he wouldn’t come out. Been trying to talk to him through it, but all he’ll say is ‘go away.’”
I cast a glance at Hudson. Evan had seemed fine when we returned from our campus adventure. What could have happened in the past few hours to change that?
“Maybe he needs some time alone,” I suggested.
“Thought that. Voice doesn’t sound right, though.”
“When was the last time he had any blood?” Hudson suddenly demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“Shit.” Hudson followed up his sharp curse with a quick U-turn. “Go downstairs, Isk.”
“Not leaving him alone.”
“Do it now.”
“I’ll stop knocking on the door—”
“He can still unlock the damned thing, Isk! Get downstairs now.”
“The fuck?”
Hudson focused on employing the defensive-driving techniques he’d learned as a cop, so I attempted an answer. “I think Hud’s worried Evan is hungry.”
Because everything pointed to that. Hadn’t I thought he looked not-so-good earlier tonight? I’d chalked that up to the depression. Evan had once told me that his depression made doing little everyday things—like getting out of bed, getting dressed, making breakfast, hell, brushing his teeth—all but impossible.
Maybe drinking blood twice a week was on that list too.
“Thought you were feeding him.” The sound of Isk’s feet pounding down the stairs punctuated his words.
“Not for a couple of weeks. At least.” And maybe being out in the sun a few days ago had exhausted his store of whatever-it-was in my blood. “God, I’m a shitty friend.”
“Enough,” Hudson snapped, and I got it. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on what I’d done wrong. “Isk, you downstairs?”
“In the office.”
“Good. Stay there. We’re three minutes out. I’m gonna keep the line open—shout if anything changes.”
“Got it.”
I tapped my fingers on my knee and willed each stoplight to be green as Hudson threaded through the light traffic. Surprisingly—or maybe not—they complied. I sincerely hoped that didn’t mean I was peppering the otherplane with holes all the way along Dundas Street. Hudson pulled up to the office and parked on the street rather than pulling into the parking lot behind the building. I’d barely cracked my door open before he was out of the car and heading up the stairs to Iskander’s apartment.
Damned vampire speed.
By the time I reached the hallway outside Evan’s room, Hudson was already talking to him through the door. Gentle reassurances and promises that everything would be okay. I couldn’t hear Evan respond, and I was hoping that was because he was whispering or something in a range too low for my human ears—but a quick look at the worry on Hudson’s face told me that wasn’t the case.
“Anything?” I murmured.
He shook his head. “I can hear him breathing, but he’s not responding.”
“So you figure he’s been starving himself?”
“I don’t know. Not on purpose, I don’t think. Fuck, why didn’t I see it?” He rested his forehead against the door. “Pretty sure whatever’s behind this door isn’t going to be good.”
“No napping for hungry vampires, huh?”
“I—” His bronze skin lost some of its richness as he paled. “Fuck, I—I’ve seen this. I think. There was a girl one of Pike’s assholes turned. She hated blood and refused—oh god.”
I laid a hand on his arm. “Hud? You’re not there anymore.”
“I know. I’m—” He blew out a breath. “Go downstairs.”
“Uh, no.”
“Wes—”
“No. Look—” My voice shook, because I knew if Hud was that worried, things were bad. Beyond bad. “He needs to feed.”
Hudson looked horrified at the idea. “He’s gonna fucking rip your throat out—”
“He won’t, because you’ll be there to stop him, but Hud—he has to feed. And you know I’m it.”
Not only because Evan was spoiled by my blood, but because Hudson couldn’t feed him—other than the blood a sire donated to turn their progeny, vampires didn’t feed off each other—and any other human donor would be in much greater danger. I’d heal from anything Evan would do to me.
I was pretty sure I would, anyway.
Probably not the time to bring that bit of uncertainty up.
To his credit, Hudson didn’t argue any further. He pressed a hard, quick kiss to my lips, then kicked down Evan’s door.
The first thing I noticed was blood. Blood was everywhere. It soaked the bedcovers, splattered the walls, smeared the carpet. I couldn’t hold in the whimper at the sight, because I hadn’t expected this. I’d been prepared for Evan to launch himself at me, attack me like he had when he’d first woken up after being turned, but not...god, not this.
Had it been...was it imps? Something else? We’d assumed he’d been starving but what if we were wrong?
We found him crumpled on the floor on the other side of the bed, the carpet beneath him drenched in red. I darted forward—then skidded to a stop as I realized what I was seeing.
Bite marks. Both of his arms were covered in them. Some were ragged and awful tears, but many were a familiar pair of puncture wounds.
I had a matching set in my neck right now.
“Oh Jesus,” I whispered.
“When a vamp gets that hungry...” Hudson swallowed hard enough it was audible. “It’s hard to remember that your own blood isn’t food.”
Those words unfroze me. I sank to the floor beside Evan, trying to ignore how the blood squished under my knees, and pulled him into my lap. He wasn’t responsive and I hated how that reminded me of those moments months ago when I thought Hudson was dead.
I held out my wrist and I didn’t even have to ask for Hudson to bite it. Without the fun of sex, vampire bites hurt, but it was a small price to pay. I let my blood drip between Evan’s lips, then held my wrist flush up against them, hoping instinct would kick in.
Hoping he hadn’t given up completely.
Just as my wounds started to close up, Evan struck. His fangs descended and clamped onto my wrist and—fuck, that hurt. Worse than Hudson’s bite. My eyes watered from the pain, but god, he was drinking. Swallowing. His own wounds began to close, and still he drank.
I felt Hudson against my back and wondered when he’d started holding me up. One of his hands reached for Evan, and I shook my head, even as my eyelids started to get heavy. “Let him take what he needs.”
“No,” Hudson growled in my ear. “This is not how you’re going to deal with your guilt, asshole.”
I was going to protest that, but forming words was tough. “Li’l more.”
The last thing I heard was Hudson roaring at Evan.
* * *
I’d seen and done a lot of weird shit in my life. But nothing had quite crossed the mundane and paranormal streams like staging an intervention for a young vampire after a day spent recovering from feeding said vampire.
Evan sat at Iskander’s two-seat kitchen table, slouched with his arms crossed. Hudson was across from him. Iskander and I were leaning against the counter, and Lexi was listening in via Skype from her hospital room. The thing that struck me most at the moment was that Iskander’s kitchen was not Hudson’s, and I missed it. More than I ever thought possible.
“You look like shit, Evan,” Lexi announced, her voice tinny and still not as vibrant and fulsome as I was used to, but very much there, thank god.
“Coming from someone who was in a coma...” Iskander sucked in a breath. “That’s saying
something.”
“I’m fine.” Evan’s frown deepened.
“That’s the biggest line of bull I’ve ever heard,” Hudson growled. “Hey. Sit up.”
Evan glared at him, and Hudson glared back. Eventually Evan straightened. Slowly. He even uncrossed his arms. “There. I’m sitting.”
“Attitude.”
“Fuck you, Hudson, you’re not—”
“I’m going to cut you off right there, because technically, yeah. I am. Sire, not father, but it still means I’m responsible for you.”
“Like you give a fuck.”
It was clear Hudson wasn’t ready for that attack. His mouth dropped open for an instant before he schooled his expression. Where a minute before his emotions played across his face, now he’d locked them down in his blank Asshole Cop look.
This was not a good start.
Lexi spoke before Hudson gathered himself. “How can you say that?”
“Easy. He’s been so busy with hanging out with Iskander and getting the firm set up—”
“Which you’ve been involved in,” Hudson protested.
Evan shrugged. “As an afterthought.”
I rubbed my hand over my eyes but didn’t say anything.
“That was never my intention.”
Evan’s finger traced a scar etched into the wood of the table, and he didn’t look up at Hudson.
“That is such a bullshit excuse,” Lexi spat.
“What—that I didn’t intend—” Hudson sputtered.
“No, not you, Hud. Evan’s pissy little ‘you didn’t pay enough attention to me’ whine.” I couldn’t see her image from where I stood, but I could picture it easily enough—she had her are you fucking kidding me voice going on, which meant she was probably squinting at him. “Evan, key thing to remember here—your brain is an asshole. It’s lying to you.”
“What, you mean like Wes did?”
“Yeah, I haven’t had nearly enough of a talk with him about that bullshit, but we’re not talking about Wes right now. We’re talking about you and Hud.”
“He told me he was going to be there for me and—”
“I was,” Hudson interjected.
“No, you weren’t. You were working or doing your bullshit ‘errands.’ But you’re right, Lexi—it’s dumb. So fucking dumb.” Evan slammed his palm on the table, and I’ll admit, I jumped. “What kind of idiot needs so much reassurance? What kind of moron gets upset because his friends have other stuff going on in their lives? What kind of fucking shit-for-brains—”
“Hey—”
“—can’t just be normal?”
Suddenly Evan jumped to his feet, grabbed the table, and threw it. It didn’t go far—there wasn’t enough room in Iskander’s kitchen for it to do more than flip, even if Hudson wasn’t in the way. As it was, Hudson turned in time to take the brunt of the hit on his upper arm instead of his face. The phone clattered to the floor, and Lexi’s startled noises reverberated tinnily under the crash of the table and the rush of Evan’s heaving breaths.
“Holy shit,” he gasped. “I—I’m sorry, I...”
Hudson rubbed his leg, where gravity had brought the edge of the table down hard, and winced as he got up.
“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I...” Evan threaded his hands into his hair and yanked. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”
Hudson moved to stand in front of Evan and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Depression.”
Evan vigorously shook his head but didn’t try to move away from Hudson’s hands. “No, that’s not—I know what my depression looks like. It’s exhaustion and hiding in bed all day. Not...not...” He waved a hand at the upended table.
Iskander had retrieved the phone and was holding it out so Lexi could see both Evan and Hudson. “Depression can be a bunch of things,” she said. “And it can change. Be easy on yourself, hon. You were already depressed, and then you became a vampire and it didn’t fix anything, right?”
“I got a—a family,” Evan said quietly.
“Yeah, you did,” Hudson agreed.
“But you still had to fight your depression. And then there was the demon, and Wes being an asshole, and the house blowing up.”
“Yeah.” Evan sagged, and Hudson pulled him close.
“You’re not dumb,” I said. “Okay? I don’t want to hear that again. Like Lexi said, your brain is a liar. When it tells you shit like that, try to ignore it.”
“But—”
“Nothing.” Hudson’s voice rumbled with the note of authority that seemed to have an extra-large impact on Evan. “I’m sorry I didn’t see—that I was too busy—”
“No, no, that was stupid of me to get mad about.”
Hudson crouched to look Evan in the eye. “But I’m gonna say this now: I’m never too busy for you. You can come talk to me anytime, about anything, no matter how low a priority you think it is. Or your brain tries to convince you it is.” He looked down for a second. “Look... I know I’m not real good at this—this family thing. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve had that. But you all...” He swept the room, taking in all of us. “Like Evan said, so easily...you’re my family. My—my band,” he added quietly.
I stepped forward and slipped an arm around Hudson’s waist, and the other around Evan’s shoulders, and rested my forehead against Hudson’s chest. “I’m good with being part of your band.”
One of Iskander’s hands covered mine as he embraced Hudson and Evan from the other side. “Me too.”
I looked up to see the phone held up and Lexi looking at us with her eyes half-closed. “No fair having a group hug without me,” she muttered, but she was smiling as she said it.
Hudson took the phone from Iskander’s hand and cuddled it close. “Better?”
“It’ll do, big guy. It’ll do.”
“So, um, Lex?” I ventured.
“Mmm-hmm?”
“I don’t suppose you or your mom know how to prevent my magic from tearing holes in the otherplane, do you?”
Chapter Eighteen
Lexi eyed the two steps that led up to her front door. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across them that obscured their edges, but I didn’t think that was the cause of her hesitation. Her mom and dad hung back because they were smart. Me, I couldn’t help but take a step forward, arms out to offer her support.
“Back off, Wesley.”
I froze but didn’t move back.
“There’s no shame in accepting help when you need it,” Rosanna said softly.
From my vantage point slightly to the side and behind Lexi, I could see her screw up her lips, as though she were trying to keep a scream inside. I could only imagine how frustrating her injuries must be—she was a fiercely independent woman and had been from the moment I met her more than ten years ago. It had been her idea to come to Toronto for university instead of staying closer to home, mostly so she could meet and get to know her weird “uncle” Wes. In all that time, she hadn’t been sick beyond a head cold now and again, and she’d certainly never been injured to this extent.
“Don’t give me that look,” she growled.
“What look?” I asked.
“That regretful, guilty one. This isn’t your fault.”
“I could have—”
“I will hit you, I swear to all the gods.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. But will you let me help you? Please?”
She let out a grumble that I took for acquiescence, so I gripped her good elbow to steady her as she climbed the stairs and stepped past the threshold into her house. It looked the same as it always did—overstuffed, unmatched furniture, parquet flooring that had seen better days but still had most of its varnish, and a bookshelf filled with all sorts of titles, from the arcane to the mundane. No—wait. She’d replaced her coffee tab
le. The old thrift-store special piece of junk was gone, and a flat-top steamer trunk sat in its place. Guilt flared all over again as I realized I hadn’t been here much in the past few months. Most of the time we spent together these days had someone else included, except for the volunteering at Aurora House and the occasional shopping trip. When was the last time we’d hung out to watch a movie and spent some quality time just the two of us?
I couldn’t remember.
I helped her over to one of the chairs in the living room and pretended not to notice the sigh of relief as she sat down. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
“Need anything?” I asked quietly.
She waved a hand, a gesture she’d taken up instead of shaking her head. “Give me a few.” I was about to retreat to the kitchen when one of her eyes flicked open. “Hey, Wes? Thanks.”
I leaned in and brushed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Rest up.”
I found Rosanna in the kitchen with Darrell, heating up some coffee from that morning. They’d been staying in the guest room at Lexi’s since they arrived. “Want some?” she asked, holding up the carafe.
“I’m good, thanks.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and leaned on the doorjamb, since the kitchen wasn’t big enough for three people. “You guys sticking around for a bit?”
“Yes,” Darrell said, accepting the mug out of the microwave that Rosanna handed to him. “Until at least next week, depending on how she’s doing.”
“And how we’re doing,” Rosanna added. She paused for a second, then shook off whatever negative thoughts she was having. “But she looks good, right? Better.”
“So much better,” I agreed. Nowhere near a hundred percent, no, but she’d get there. In time. “You let me know if I can help out at all. Take her to appointments or whatever.”
“I reached out to the magical community here,” Rosanna said, retrieving her own mug from the microwave and settling into the chair across from Darrell at the two-person dinette table. “We’ve got a healer scheduled to come out tomorrow. She won’t be able to take care of everything, but she can probably help immeasurably with the shoulder and give the skull fracture a boost too.”
