Wounded Soul

by Annabelle Jacobs

  “Peter found me when I was twenty-five and at my very lowest point. I thought he was going to kill me, and I welcomed it, begged him to do it quick.”

  Ian tightened his grip on Jesse’s hand. “Why?”

  “Being gay in the 1950’s wasn’t anything like it is today.”

  “I’m aware.” He wasn’t stupid, and he knew his history.

  Jesse cast him a sheepish glance. “Sorry.” He paused, seeming to collect himself. “I was in love with a wonderful man, had been since school, and we thought we’d be together until we were old and grey. We were careful. Had to be. But the constant secrecy and fear of being found out, of being arrested and sent to jail, took its inevitable toll, and occasionally we fought. He would stomp off, or sometimes I’d be the one to do it.”

  Jesse glanced down at their joined hands, his thumb tracing patterns over the back of Ian’s hand.

  Ian suppressed a shiver at the careful touch and bit his lip, knowing something bad was coming.

  “One such night,” Jesse continued, “he stormed off in a huff over nothing, and he never came back. They found his body early the next morning—beaten to death and robbed.”

  “Fuck.” Ian didn’t know what else to say.

  “Police said it was a mugging, but everyone knew it was a hate crime. Someone had beaten and killed him because they’d found out he was gay.” Jesse sounded far too matter-of-fact, and Ian wondered how much it cost him to keep all those emotions inside, because no way did he believe Jesse felt nothing.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ian soothed. He pulled their joined hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on Jesse’s knuckles.

  “It was a long time ago,” Jesse whispered. “Over sixty years.”

  “Doesn’t mean it can’t still hurt.” Ian wanted to let him know it was okay to be upset. There was no expiry date on grief. “You must’ve been devastated.”

  “I was.” His voice caught. “I found out about it by reading the newspaper. Couldn’t grieve like I wanted to because to most of the outside world we were just friends—best friends—but nothing more than that.” Ian gave his fingers another squeeze. “Then Peter found me—lost and alone and wanting to die.”

  Ian’s lip curled up as he got a glimpse at the bigger picture.

  Fucking Peter.

  “He caught me in the same dark alley where they’d found Callum’s body. Offered me a new life. One where I’d be strong and fast, and no one would ever be able to hurt me. I was used to hiding what I was, so that part of it didn’t bother me. I just wanted out of my life, and his solution seemed like the perfect escape.” He ran a hand over his eyes, shielding his expression from Ian, and Ian suddenly wondered if vampires could cry, because he’d bet everything that Jesse would if he could.

  “Did you know what he was offering? That you’d have to die first?” Ian hated to imagine how low Jesse must have felt to choose that as an option.

  “I think part of me knew—we had our fair share of suspicious deaths and rumours to go with them—but a much bigger part of me just didn’t care. I had no family to fall back on. Callum had been my whole world, and he was gone. I wanted to be gone too.”

  “So Peter drained you, then turned you into a vampire.”

  “Yes.”

  Ian started putting all the pieces together. “Then you fell in love with him?”

  Jesse wrinkled his nose. “Not exactly. I wasn’t in a place where I could love again, but we were close. I leaned on him heavily that first year, and he looked after me.”

  And I bet he revelled in every fucking minute of it.

  Ian tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke. “So essentially, Peter found you when you were hurt and vulnerable, offered you a way out, then proceeded to fuck you and keep you reliant on him and no one else.” Ian’s words sounded harsh to his own ears, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d taken advantage of a heartbroken Jesse and used his grief as a way to get close to him.

  “Yes.” Jesse’s laugh was bitter. “Though I couldn’t see it then. I felt indebted to him, like I belonged to him, and him to me. I didn’t realise at the time that it was because he’d changed me, because it was his blood I’d drank. He wasn’t like he is now. Not at first, anyway.”

  “No? What was he like?” Ian remained unconvinced that Peter had an altruistic bone in his body.

  “The Peter I knew back then was kind, generous, funny. He helped put me back together again.”

  “So what went wrong?” Because something had.

  Jesse turned to meet his gaze, his grief replaced by a kind of resigned anger. “He became the Peter he is now. I suspect he was always that way, I just didn’t want to see it, and he was obviously on his best behaviour. As I came to accept my new life, I gained confidence, came to rely on Peter less, and he hated that loss of control. I wanted to hunt on my own—tired of trying to persuade him not to feed on anyone who took his fancy—and he assumed that meant I was looking for another lover. He was wrong, of course. Our relationship was becoming strained, and I’d entertained thoughts of how best to get out of it with our friendship intact, but finding someone new was the last thing on my mind.”

  Ian waited, dying to know what happened next, curiosity getting the better of him. “And?” he nudged when Jesse seemed to have stalled.

  “I was out hunting, looking for someone who might deserve what I had to offer, and I came across three men cornering someone in a deserted side street. They were yelling obscenities at him, telling him what they were going to do to him, and it reminded me so much of what Callum must’ve gone through that before I knew what I was doing, the three men were dead. The person they’d been harassing was a young guy, maybe eighteen, nineteen. Striking features—high cheekbones, full mouth. I lingered long enough to make sure he was all right, then urged him to flee home while I fed on the others. I didn’t know Peter had followed me, wasn’t as aware of my surroundings as I should’ve been, and those few seconds with the boy were enough to spark Peter’s jealousy.”

  “What happened?” Ian asked softly, feeling a little guilty now for making Jesse relive it all.

  “Peter was waiting for me when I got back to the coven. He had the guy there too. Said he’d seen me with him, knew I wanted him but knew that I didn’t like to kill the seemingly innocent. So he said he’d do it for me.”

  “He killed him?”

  Jesse nodded. “Snapped his neck right in front of me, then offered him to me to feed on.”

  “Motherfucker.”

  “Yes, he was. That night shattered all my illusions about him, burnt through all the excuses I’d been making for his behaviour. He was a jealous wanker with too much power, and that young man had paid the price for me burying my head in the sand.”

  “What did you do? Did you report him?”

  “No, I didn’t report him. As far as our coven was concerned, he hadn’t done anything wrong. We were allowed to kill who we liked as long as it wasn’t each other and didn’t put the coven in danger. So I did what I could to distance myself from him. I took my own room, went out to hunt on my own or with other coven members, kept as far away from him as possible.”

  “Why didn’t you leave, go somewhere else?”

  “Because I hadn’t bothered to learn about other covens and I had no contacts. Who was to say I wouldn’t be worse off somewhere else?”

  Ian could appreciate that. He’d had similar thoughts about his own situation.

  “Anyway, then I met Lys, and things picked up considerably.” He slumped back against the headboard. “Wow, sorry if I just bombarded you with my life history.”

  “I asked you to tell me.” Ian wasn’t sorry in the slightest. “And you helped prove my point that our situation is a thousand fucking miles away from what you had with Peter.” He held his hand up as Jesse began to protest. “Just hear me out.”

  Jesse nodded, so Ian carried on.

  “I wasn’t in a bad place when you turned me—I was actually happy with my lot, which pisse
s me off that it ended so abruptly, but I’m not so debilitated by grief that I can’t think properly. I’m not vulnerable; you can’t pressure me into something I don’t want by telling me it’s for my own good.”

  “There’s more to it than that.”

  Ian blew out a breath, frustrated that he wasn’t getting his point across. “I get that we have this connection, that drinking your blood bound us together in some supernatural magical way. But what I’m trying to say is that we had a connection before that. I know you felt it too.”

  “I did.” Jesse smirked, and for the first time since they’d started this conversation, Ian sensed light at the end of the tunnel.

  Fuelled by that dash of hope, Ian forged ahead. “So it’s not like you turning me has introduced feelings that weren’t there before, more like it’s adding to them.” He glanced at Jesse who still seemed conflicted, so he tried a different tack. “Did you know Peter at all before he turned you?”

  Jesse frowned. “No. I thought he seemed familiar, but I’m pretty sure I’d have remembered meeting someone like him.” A slow grin spread across his face. “He dressed like you’d expect a vampire to in those times. But don’t mention that I told you. He gets very touchy about the subject, doesn’t deal well with embarrassment.”

  Ian grinned back, delighted by the image of Peter in a long black cape swanning around everywhere. “My lips are sealed.” With the mood lightening, Ian shifted his leg a little so that it rested against Jesse’s. “Our situations are nothing alike.” He set their joined hands on Jesse’s thigh. “This connection we have hasn’t made me suddenly want to be with you, Jesse. I already wanted that.”

  Their conversation had put a damper on his feelings from earlier, but he still wanted to be close to Jesse, still wanted to touch him.

  “What do you say?” Ian took the plunge and scooted down the bed, using his newfound strength to take Jesse with him until they were lying flat. “I could get used to that,” he murmured, marvelling at how easy it was to manhandle Jesse now.

  Jesse rolled onto his side to face him, mouth curling up at the edges. “Is that so?”

  “Oh yeah.” Ian smiled, wanting to keep this teasing side of Jesse. “Now I can throw you around, the possibilities are endless.” Jesse laughed, his whole face alight with amusement, and Ian could easily see the carefree twenty-five-year-old he used to be. “I won’t age, will I?” Ian asked as the thought struck him.

  “No.” Jesse stared back at him, a wary look in his eyes.

  Ian knew where that conversation would lead, and he wasn’t ready to pick at that particular thread just yet. So much crap had been dumped on him in the past few hours, he needed a break from everything. It’d still be there later for him to angst over.

  Rolling over to match Jesse, he said, “What happened to Peter and Lys, anyway?”

  “They went to get some rest. Lys has a shift at the hospital later, and Peter . . . I’m not exactly sure what he’s doing. He works from home, so his office is here, but I don’t know what his latest project is. As long as he’s not reporting me to the VLCD or Raph, then I don’t care what he’s doing.

  “What about tonight?” He must’ve been telegraphing his thoughts, because Jesse reached out and cupped his jaw.

  “Lys is working tonight, and I don’t want to leave you on your own or send Peter. But Lys has tomorrow and Saturday night off, so one of us will go to the bar and check on Cate. I’m not quite sure what we’ll tell her—if anything—but we’ll definitely go see her.”

  I guess that’s better than nothing.

  “What about Blake?”

  Jesse winced. “I don’t know. Once we tell him, the VLCD will know, so we need to have a plan in place and preferably have told Raph.”

  “I thought we agreed I’d just tell them it was my idea to be changed.”

  “As grateful as I am to you for agreeing to do that, there’s still a few things to iron out.”

  “Such as?” It seemed straightforward to Ian. “Surely there’s some caveat that if a human asks for it, then the vampire isn’t at fault?”

  “Well, there kind of is, but we’re supposed to register with the VLCD. They have to go investigate how the human came to know about vampires in the first place. Make sure the human hasn’t had their mind messed with, hasn’t been coerced in any way, and actually knows what it is they’re asking for.” He paused, reaching down to take Jesse’s hand again. “When they ask you how you came to be aware that vampires exist, what are you going to say?”

  “That Blake . . . fuck.” Ian wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. “He’d lose his job, wouldn’t he?”

  “At the bare minimum. VLCD officers sign all sorts of NDAs. He must have told you that?”

  “Yeah, he did.” And yet Ian had still badgered Blake to tell them as much as he could get away with. When in reality he shouldn’t have told them anything at all. “But,” he added as a thought occurred to him, “me and Blake also overheard his dad and uncle discussing the VLCD years ago. And there’s a fuckton of books out there.” Ian wasn’t about to say he’d been googling all sorts of folklore since Blake had told them. None of that mattered now he had first-hand experience. “Wouldn’t that convince them?”

  Jesse frowned. “Loads of people read about vampires, doesn’t mean they think they’re real or know how to find one. When they realise you’ve been friends with Blake for years, there’s only one conclusion they’re going to draw.”

  “Arse. So if I try and get you out of trouble, I land my best friend in it?”

  “Pretty much.” Jesse smiled. “We’ll find another way.”

  Would they though? There were only so many ways to explain that Ian was now a vampire. Either he asked for it or he didn’t. Either way, someone was going to be in the shit.

  “Maybe I can suggest another way that I discovered vampires?”

  One that didn’t include either Blake or Jesse telling him. Or Blake’s uncle for that matter.

  Jesse looked sceptical. “Can you think of one?”

  “Maybe you gave yourself away . . .” Ian pressed his thumb gently against Jesse’s mouth, a thrill running through him when Jesse parted his lips and let his fangs drop down. Touching the tips of them with the pad of his thumb, Ian wondered what they’d feel like pressing into him, and he had a sudden, visceral longing that it had been Jesse who’d drank his blood and not Peter.

  The thought sent a shiver through him, his body lighting up inside like he’d been flooded with energy. A bark of laughter escaped him. At Jesse’s curious expression, he whispered, “I’m dead, yet at this moment I’ve never felt so alive.” He grinned. “I’m lying here wondering what it would be like to feel your teeth in me.” Jesse’s eyes darkened, spurring him on. “To have you feed from me while we fuck, if such a thing’s possible. I want you so bad right now, but my body isn’t reacting the way it should. I feel none of the things I used to, and yet I feel everything. Does that make sense?”

  Caught up in his excitement, Jesse smiled back, pressing a soft kiss to Ian’s thumb. “Makes perfect sense. It’ll take some getting used to, I won’t lie, but you’ll get there.” His smiled turned dirty, and Ian felt the phantom beat of his heart race. “There’s something to be said for not needing to come up for air.” He winked. “What was it you said? Endless possibilities.”

  Ian’s mind was full of all the things they could do, but one thing seemed to drown out all the others. He swallowed again, his throat a little dry. “I’m hungry,” he whispered, a strange mix of ashamed and turned on. “Is that normal?”

  “Yes.” Jesse’s eyes remained dark, intense, and full of a promise for something Ian craved but didn’t fully understand. “I’ll get Lys to drop off some lunch.”

  He slipped his phone out of his back pocket and typed the quickest text Ian had ever seen, fingers flying over the keyboard. The reply was almost instantaneous.

  Jesse’s sudden frown caused a trickle of unease to creep into Ian’s carefully
conducted bubble of contentment.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Maybe.” Jesse continued to stare at the phone screen, seeming miles away. “Lys said Raph’s back and has been asking after me. She suggested I go show my face so that he doesn’t come looking for me.”

  The thought of the coven leader coming to see them filled Ian with dread. That wouldn’t be a good thing, surely? “You should go.”

  “I know. We can’t risk Raph coming anywhere near here.” Jesse sat up. “We’re going to have to tell him at some point, but I’d rather it was later, when hopefully we’ve got some sort of plan.”

  A knock at the door ended their conversation.

  “That’ll be Lys.”

  Ian rolled his eyes as Jesse got up to go and let her in. “Your replacement?”

  “It’s not you I don’t trust, Ian.” Jesse opened the door and moved aside to let Lys enter. Then he was gone, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  Lys glanced from the door to Ian’s slightly confused face. “He’s still worried Peter might bring his two idiots and try to kill you.”

  “Oh. I guess it would be the easier option. Objectively speaking,” he added, not wanting Lys to think he was on board with that plan.

  “It would,” she said, then laughed at the shocked look on his face. “But easiest isn’t always best. Relax. Nothing’s going to happen to you while me and Jesse are here.” But how long would that be for?

  He didn’t ask and Lys didn’t say anything else.

  No matter how optimistic Ian tried to be, when Jesse was gone, his distraction went with him and he was forced to admit he couldn’t see any of this ending well.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jesse stalked down the corridors, then stopped dead halfway down the stairs.

  You absolute wanker, Jesse.

  He’d been with Ian all last night and all day today; everyone would smell it on him. After glancing around, he took a sniff of his arm, trying to see how obvious it was.

  “Really, Jesse. I thought you’d started to read more.” Peter appeared on the landing below, casting a withering look in Jesse’s direction.