He lay for some time, until his senses started to reach out through the house.
He could hear Luke snoring and eventually Preston grumbling and shoving at him to stop.
He could hear Nell and Deanna in the kitchen with clinking glasses, having a late-night drink.
He could hear Siobhan watching TV, decompressing after getting back from finishing her patrol.
The rest of the house was quiet—aside from the murmur of voices Ethan had been avoiding, because they were coming from next door.
“I’m only asking for an honest answer,” Bari said.
“Fine. Yes, I want him,” Bash replied, causing Ethan’s heart to stutter, “but I have an obligation.”
“We can figure something out.”
“What? I’m out of options. But if you think of something, let me know. I really am glad you’re here.”
“And I have no intention of leaving anytime soon.”
“Good. I may need you to lock me in my room to make sure I behave.” Bash sighed, and Ethan heard a flop like he’d thrown himself back on Bari’s bed. “For now, it’s best if I stay away from him.”
The hope Ethan had felt sunk like it always did. He listened for a while longer to idle chitchat between brothers before Bash retired to his own room, though Ethan could have sworn Bash paused in the hallway, debating whether to turn toward Ethan’s door instead.
That night Ethan dreamed again, but though he longed to see his sire’s face, he still could not. All he heard was a voice that only his subconscious remembered in the morning.
“Wait. Be patient, my boy. Until your desires are all that remain.”
DAYS PASSED with nothing to show for it, and soon, Bash realized it had been a week since Halloween night. Strange—when he’d waited so many years for this one.
Siobhan was having a hard time picking up on Leo’s trail. There were a few signs of potential other strangers in the city, but nothing they followed led to anywhere but dead ends. The only option was to lure Leo in with the promise of seeing Ethan to confirm if he was his sire.
“It can’t be him,” Ethan kept saying. He had countless missed calls and urgent text messages from his uncle, asking to see him again, to let him know where he was. The only reply Ethan had given, which he’d shown Bash before sending, was:
If you’re on my side, then why did you run?
Leo hadn’t answered that one yet, but even silence wasn’t enough for Ethan to admit defeat.
Bash felt for him, but it wasn’t healthy that despite the evidence, Ethan had doubled down in his beliefs that his sire had to be someone else.
Jay was still in town, patient but edgy. Maximus must be whispering in his ear to drop the whole thing and leave, abandon the idea of a marriage, but still, Jay stayed, merely giving sorrowful nods when Bash said they still had nothing.
Everyone else was working to pull their weight, looking for the sire, for Leo, whether they were the same man or not, but he was fast and undetectable and always got away.
It was also a help and a hindrance that the pack had taken such a liking to Ethan, because all of them wanted to make him happy. And Bari was no help, since to him, the only answer to Ethan’s happiness was for Bash to give in to him, damn the consequences. He would have locked the door behind Bash and left him to Ethan’s whims if he had his way, assuming they were meant to be simply because….
Because….
Because that’s what it felt like, but fairy tales asked too high a price.
So Bash stayed away. Or he had, until the other members of the circle got worried that each successive day that passed left Ethan more irritable and reclusive, until finally, he had shut himself away in his room, refusing to even go to the tattoo parlor for his shift.
“Ethan?” Bash knocked on his door.
No answer.
“Ethan,” Bash said with more authority.
Still nothing.
“I’m coming in,” Bash declared loudly and entered to find the lights all off and a lump in Ethan’s bed. “This better not be a ruse and I’m talking to a pile of clothes.”
“I’m here,” Ethan grumbled distantly, like he was sick, which was impossible for a vampire. “I want to be alone, okay?”
“You have been alone for hours, according to Luke. Do you think I will continue to appease you about your uncle if you stop making any effort to prove his innocence?”
“You haven’t found any deaths,” Ethan said, a weak, disembodied voice from under the covers.
“The danger remains whether Leo is your sire or not, so why not end this and confirm the truth? Let us set the trap and you won’t have to wonder anymore.” Bash sat on the edge of the bed, unsure if he was speaking to Ethan’s front or his back since he could barely see a tuft of red hair.
“You have my phone. You don’t need my permission to set the trap.”
“No, I don’t, but I would prefer to be on the same page and for you to be there when it happens. Listen.” Bash reached to shake him, the covers falling away enough for him to see that he was indeed talking to Ethan’s back. “Look at me.”
“I… can’t.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Bash sighed, tugging Ethan’s shoulder to get him to roll over. “I know this is difficult for you—”
“You don’t understand!” Ethan wrenched away to stay where he was.
“If you wish to be part of this pack, then I am your Alpha. Now—” Bash used all of his strength to throw Ethan onto his back. “—why—” But he stopped, because it was clear in an instant why Ethan hadn’t wanted anyone to see him.
He hadn’t said anything, simply suffered in silence, until his eyes shone with power—not yellow like they should be, but amber, nearly red, because it had been a week since Halloween, a week since Ethan last fed.
And he was hungry.
Chapter 18
BEFORE ETHAN could surge up to escape the bed, Bash’s hands clamped down on his shoulders. “You fool. You’re nearly feral, can’t you see that?” he hissed, with equal anger and worry in his expression.
“Let go,” Ethan said, struggling to shake him off and roll back onto his side, but Bash held fast. “I—”
“You need to feed. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I-I… I don’t know.” He didn’t want to look at Bash while he was like this. “I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t?” Fury raged in Bash’s eyes, only for him to scan down Ethan’s face and soften. His hands loosened too. “Because you didn’t want to? Or because you felt compelled?”
The answer stuck in Ethan’s throat.
“Don’t you see what he’s doing to you?” Bash said, finally releasing Ethan but remaining close. “He’s making you desperate, forcing the outcomes he wants because you won’t act. We have to stop him. You have to accept—”
“I know.” Ethan choked on a sob as he said it.
“And you need to feed,” Bash said more calmly. “If I hadn’t found you, what if it had been Luke or Bari or any of the others, hours from now or tomorrow morning when you were feral? Don’t you realize what could have happened?”
Ethan might have killed someone. He knew it was foolish to have kept his hunger to himself, but part of him had thought maybe it would be better if he just faded away. Another part… might have been under his sire’s spell.
“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, turning from Bash as he lay there feeling vulnerable and empty. “I don’t… I-I didn’t….”
“It doesn’t matter,” Bash said, leaning closer, hand resting on Ethan’s cheek to coax him to meet his eyes again. “I told you I’d take care of you. When you’re hungry, tell me. That’s all you need to do. The rest of us should have been more vigilant of the passing time, but despite everything, I think the pack forgets what you are. For now, you’ll feed from me.”
“I can’t.” Ethan recoiled. “I don’t want what happened last time to happen again. I mean, I do, but that’s the problem. I don’t want to force you into any
thing.”
“Then control yourself.”
“I don’t know how.”
Dropping his hand back to his side, Bash spoke plainly. “Last time you were feral. This time you’re close, but not there yet. You’ll be able to feel when you start to enthrall me, you’ll see it in the rune, you just need to pull back. If I start to get… frisky, you’ll know you’re using too much. Pull back enough and it will still be pleasant for me, not painful, and over without any issue.”
“But my sire….” Ethan spoke toward his pillow. “If he’s pushing this, how do I fight him? You said it was impossible.”
“Nearly impossible. If your will is stronger, you can beat him.” Bash reached for Ethan once more but nudged at his shoulders to lift him into a sitting position instead of holding them down, bringing their faces inches apart and forcing Ethan to meet his eyes. “You need to feed. That’s all that matters. You can do this.”
“Okay…,” Ethan said, acquiescing because he was so hungry, and he didn’t want to hurt someone, least of all Bash, just because he was scared.
Only a little thrall, he thought, looking at his hand first to gauge the reaction of the rune. Almost instantly, it started to glow, but he pulled back until it was a dim luminescence.
“I want you to feel good,” Ethan said, lifting his eyes to Bash hesitantly. “I don’t want it to hurt.”
“It won’t,” Bash said, hazily but still in control.
Whatever compulsion Ethan had felt before to keep his hunger a secret was gone now. The smell of Bash being so close was intoxicating, even more than usual knowing what awaited him.
Keeping the hand with the rune lifted, Ethan leaned toward Bash’s neck. He barely remembered doing this the first time, but instinct parted his lips and led him to the correct veins, rather than an artery that would cause more damage. His fangs had already lengthened, mouth salivating at the mixture of smell and remembered taste.
When he pierced Bash’s skin, the first rush of warm, heady elixir made him want to forget about holding back, but Bash’s whimper and the weight of his hand resting on Ethan’s waist grounded him. Wrapping his arms around Bash’s body to hold him close, Ethan kept his eyes open, always on the rune he had raised behind Bash’s back.
It pulsed with light only faintly.
Ethan drank, savoring the rich flavor and trying to be cognizant of how much he was taking, counting on Bash to know when to tell him to stop if he went too far.
But in the back of Ethan’s mind, through the rush of blood hitting his tongue, a voice other than his own called to him.
Yes. This. Now. He is what you desire. Claim him and you claim everything you could ever hope to have. All of Centrus City will be at your feet. Nothing and no one can ever harm you or move against you again. Together—with me—they will fall to their knees and worship you.
Yes, Ethan echoed, because he wanted that. Not devotion exactly, but the assurance of a future he could control. He’d been alone for so long, ignored, shunned, forgotten by all but his uncle. Now he was free, and already almost everyone he’d met was drawn to him. He wanted more of that. He wanted Bash at his side and a kingdom to rule over.
“Ethan…,” Bash gasped, snapping him back to startling reality, “you’re not… pulling back enough.”
After swallowing another rewarding gulp, Ethan licked the wound with a languid swirl of his tongue. He’d closed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to, but when he opened them again, he could see the brighter glow of the rune, and it was harder this time to make it dim.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, licking another swipe at Bash’s wound. “I know you don’t want me, not really, and I’m taking advantage.” His other hand had strayed down Bash’s back and slid up his shirt to feel skin.
Bash shuddered at his touch. “Enthralled or not, I want you, but we can’t. You know that. We shouldn’t.”
He didn’t sound certain, more like he wanted Ethan to convince him otherwise.
Sated of bloodlust but still ravenous in other ways, Ethan willed the rune to dwindle completely. It wasn’t blood he wanted now, but whatever came next needed to be pure consent.
“I know which hunger is strongest in me,” Ethan said, pulling back so Bash could see his eyes—gold, not amber anymore—as he licked his lips of remaining blood. “Do you?”
Bash seemed dazed from the feeding, flushed, panting, or maybe that was all desire, as he watched the trail of Ethan’s tongue. “I don’t…,” he said, but his expression said the opposite, until he shook his head like he had no idea why he was fighting. “I don’t care.”
Surging forward, Bash captured Ethan’s lips as if chasing his own taste. The blood was gone, absorbed almost instantly to make Ethan feel stronger, invincible, and what remained as they connected tasted even better.
Their hands went for each other as urgently as Bash’s initial lunge, twisting at fabric and moving closer to connect flush. It was attraction, like Bari had said, compatibility, and a spark so hot it could have started a forest fire. It had to be fate, and if not fate, if what had placed them together was an unseen force with malice behind it, Ethan didn’t care either; he just wanted to keep Bash and enjoy this for as long as he could.
When Bash paused for breath—breath Ethan no longer needed—Ethan took the opportunity to tear his shirt over his head, but Bash pulled him back in before Ethan could remove Bash’s shirt next. Ethan’s hands found harbor beneath the fabric anyway, blazing up Bash’s skin until they barely had to break apart for him to yank the offending article away.
Bash had him, one arm around his shoulders, the other at his waist to lift him and throw him down on the mattress, spreading him out so he could climb on top. Sitting on Ethan’s hips, Bash traced nimble fingers down Ethan’s chest as if trying to map the divots.
“There we are,” Bash said, thumbs dragging across the peek of yellow lightning bolts at Ethan’s hips, most of the design disappearing down into his sweats. They were mirror image tattoos, one at each groove of his V. “Lightning hips, is it?” Bash tugged the waistband lower to reveal the full picture.
“I may have been a little drunk.”
Bash chuckled, stroking next at the tattoos on Ethan’s forearms that he already knew. “Any other hidden art?”
“You’ll have to look,” Ethan said coyly.
A grin curled at Bash’s lips, but then faltered as indecision shimmered in his eyes. Ethan looked to the rune, but it wasn’t glowing. He didn’t want it to glow, even if Bash pulled away. So he waited for Bash to make the call.
Shifting his eyes to Ethan’s hand in kind, Bash’s hesitancy seemed to fade as he reached to lace their fingers together like a sign of trust, covering where the rune would show. “We shouldn’t, but I don’t care, not when I have you like this. You’re not controlling me. You won’t. Maybe the only way we beat your sire is by claiming this for ourselves.”
The promise of that, of being able to have this, was all Ethan needed to hear.
He pulled Bash down by the neck, kissing him feverishly. They kicked away their pants and underwear, the clash of their skin bringing back flashes of the first time that still seemed like a dream to Ethan. No longer hungry, he was clearheaded and eager to remember every detail.
Each kiss shot fire from Ethan’s lips down through his chest, making him clutch at Bash harder as he felt the animal side of him stir. The occasional edge of claws or fangs proved Bash was the same, enough to make Ethan long that much more for what they brought out in each other.
Bash’s hands didn’t prick with claws, however, when one trailed down Ethan’s body to reach between them. They writhed together like they had on Halloween, but Ethan wanted more than elegant fingers and messy friction. He spread his legs and raised his hips, encouraging Bash to touch him lower.
The lack of supplies would have bothered Ethan when he was human, but he soon discovered that the wetness already present was enough for Bash to open him up easily, eliciting moans of pleasure from Ethan
without any discomfort. Ethan had never felt so close to the edge just from having someone stretch him, but then he’d never been like this with Bash, whose hands were so beautiful, Ethan wanted to draw them.
He also wanted more and rocked his hips against Bash’s fingers to show his impatience.
“You might be the death of me,” Bash said, lifting one of Ethan’s legs to align himself.
It’s already been the death of me, Ethan thought a little hysterically, but he didn’t care about what he’d lost when he was with Bash, beginning a new life where he was more himself than he’d ever been when he was human.
Feeling Bash finally breach inside him, stretching him full, made Ethan clutch at the sheets and snap his fangs together in his passion. Feverish rutting in the basement had been good, but this was better.
They rocked, and while Ethan twisted his fingers for purchase, Bash held his leg up with one hand and traced the other along the lightning bolts again. Their rhythm began to build and build, so smoothly that Ethan knew he wouldn’t last long, but he still wanted more.
“Wait,” Ethan huffed. “Pull out. I want you deeper.”
Bash raised an eyebrow but complied with a faint smirk. Ethan flipped over, pressing his face to the mattress to let Bash take hold of his hips from behind. Rather than reconnect them immediately, Bash smoothed a hand across Ethan’s shoulder blade.
“And here I was thinking the next one would be lower.” Bash squeezed Ethan’s ass. “The lines seem… ah.” He chuckled, coming to the obvious conclusion of Ethan’s final tattoo—at least obvious to any trained geek. “Avengers assemble?”
An answering chuckle came out a whine as Bash pressed back in. The tattoo was made of simple black lines, but the design depicted each of the Avengers in some way, like a star for Captain America, a reactor for Iron Man, an arrow for Hawkeye, and so on. It was Ethan’s first tattoo from when he turned eighteen, long before prison.
By the Red Moonlight Page 17
