Discovery

by Thianna Durston

  Holy hell. Was this why the scent was so intense? How many younger drakyl were there? Were they breeding them?

  A stomp just outside the door made the boy laugh. Bright red hair wisped out from underneath his hat. “I’m gettin’ it, Beta. Bossy thing, aren’t ya? Just wait ’till I tell Aaron.” There was a momentary pause before the smile left the boy’s face. “Maybe this’ll make him feel better. I hate seeing him like that.” Turning, he grabbed a large chunk of hay and left, shutting the door behind him. Jaret only partially noticed. Aaron was ill? Horrified, Jaret realized that pulling the blackout curtains on the interior of the cab hadn’t been enough. He must have been sun burnt. Kneeling back, he grabbed the flask inside his jacket and shook it lightly. Less than a third full. Would that be enough to cure him? It depended on how long he was in the sun’s rays and how bad the burn was.

  Damn this infernal sunshine, he thought as he climbed back down. He needed to get to Aaron, to help him. But he was stuck inside this barn until nightfall. Sitting down on a hay bale, he ignored the obvious question. Why did it matter to him so much? Forcing himself to stay still so he didn’t work off the blood he’d drank three days previous, he swilled his flask slowly back and forth. From his internal clock, it was barely noon. There were still at least seven hours before he could free himself from the confines of this cell. Growling softly, he, who had never truly cared about the passage of time, suddenly wished for it to speed up. Now.

  Chapter Eight

  For three days, Aaron felt progressively worse. By Monday, he could barely get out of bed. Sleep had become a nightmare as he slept fitfully during the day and at night, he just stared up at the ceiling unable to slumber. His young cousins had picked up the slack, and added to their work, they tried to outdo themselves daily with cooking. So far, he’d been plied with burnt cookies, sunken lemon cake, overdone meatloaf, and an almost raw omelet. While he appreciated the thought, most of it had gone into the trash he hid under his bed. They did not need to know he couldn’t eat any of it. The sight of it turned his stomach. Thankfully, his uncle had sent down some sort of broth that did help. He couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but it was sweet and it didn’t make him sick. Unfortunately, it didn’t make him well, either.

  Tension filled every muscle and he found himself clenching and unclenching his hands. He needed to move, to do something. But it was nighttime. The rule was that nobody went out after dark unless the need was dire. There were predators that roamed this land, especially at night. “I need to get out,” he hissed in pain. Crawling out of bed, he groaned silently at the agony that filled his entire body. His head felt so filled with cotton that it took three tries before he was able to get his feet into his pants legs and he knew there would be no way he could button a shirt. Instead, he yanked a t-shirt over his head and slipped his feet into a pair of ratty socks.

  Slowly he made his way upstairs. The old wood creaked under each footfall and where usually that would alert his uncle that someone was up, all he heard was snoring from Davis’s room at the top of the stairs. Lightheaded, he made his way to the mud room, somehow getting his boots on and out the door. His intention had been to saddle Krage. Instead, he found himself walking south, headed for open country.

  While he felt every ache, every twinge of his muscles, it still felt better to be out in the open air. He loved this land. If he had to die, he’d rather it be out here than in his fucking sick bed.

  “Aaron!”

  Startled at the word and the accent, he looked up, shocked to see Jaret running toward him. “Jaret?” he slurred, not even able to make sense of the word.

  “Drink,” Jaret hissed, opening up his flask and lifting it to his lips.

  Alcohol when he hadn’t been eating? It didn’t sound like a good idea, but the moment the sweet fluid touched his tongue, he forgot and gulped it down. His hands grasped Jaret’s wrist, keeping the flask at his lips as he greedily drank all of the rich, thick liquid down. Whimpering when there was none left, he allowed Jaret to pull it free.

  “How long has it been?” he asked, his hands grasping Aaron’s arms when his legs wobbled.

  “Since what?”

  “Since you’ve fed, damn it!”

  “Been too sick to eat. Everything makes me throw up.”

  Jaret looked at him strangely. “Let’s sit and let your body drink in what you’ve got. I’m sorry the flask was only a third full. I hadn’t replenished it since Friday.”

  Sliding to the ground, Aaron blinked as he tried to focus his eyes. “What are you doin’ here?”

  The right side of Jaret’s lips quirked, a movement Aaron really liked. “Does it sound too cliché to say I came looking for you?”

  “Really?” Slowly, warmth filled the chill he had been fighting for over a day and some of the achiness receded. “I haven’t stopped thinkin’ of you either.” Soft lips touched his in a movement that was either fast or he wasn’t tracking things well. Not that he cared. Damn, he’d missed those lips these last few days. Could a person become addicted to someone else’s mouth?

  Jaret pulled back, but half stood up before sitting right next to Aaron, one arm around his shoulders. “Can’t say I’ve ever been fixed on one person for more than one night, but I had to find you.”

  Leaning his head on Jaret’s shoulder, Aaron closed his eyes for a moment. The aches and pains were down to a dull throb. “You stop the pain,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  Yawning, Aaron shook his head. “You stop the pain. Both times I’ve been near you, the pain that I suffer from lessens.”

  Muscles tensed underneath his cheek but he couldn’t lift his head to figure out why. It was too comfortable to sit here and cuddle with the man next to him. Who knew? Maybe he’d get some decent sleep.

  “I don’t suppose you’re looking for someone to work the ranch?” The question was clear, but muted, as though spoken from a ways off or through a tunnel.

  “Yeah. Davis couldn’t find any ranch hands this summer so we’ve been doing twice the amount of work we usually do. Makes for long days.”

  “Or nights.”

  Snorting a laugh, Aaron shook his head. “Naw. Davis doesn’t allow us out at night because of all the predators. If he knew I was out now, he’d have a fit.”

  “Wait. You work during the day?” His tone sounded appalled. Which made no sense.

  “Yep. From sunup till sundown.”

  “How…Aaron! Your skin.” Jaret picked up one of his hands and turned it this way and that as though looking for something.

  Looking at the same hand, he frowned. “I can go out at night without cover. It’s only during the day when I have to be bundled up head to toe.” Wondering if he’d given that information away the other night, he surged forward. “It’s not a disease that other people can catch. I’m allergic to the sun.”

  “You—’re what?”

  “Allergic to the sun. If my skin isn’t covered, I blister really badly. Back when I was diagnosed,” he said, pulling away and waiting for the rejection that was sure to follow, “I was burnt so badly I had to be admitted to the hospital where they said my bloodwork was all crazy and that I should be quarantined. Thankfully, Uncle Davis didn’t allow that.”

  For several long minutes there was little sound except for an occasional flutter of leaves or the croak of a frog. “Allergic to the sun,” Jaret said, his voice calmer than it had been. “That’s got to be difficult.”

  “Yep. Had it for thirteen years. Gets worse daily. At first, it was just the skin problems. Now, I’m achy and chilled all the time. But like I said,” he said, trying to lighten the mood, “You take that away.”

  A huff of a laugh came from the man next to him. “I think it more likely it was the magic elixir in here that did that.” He pulled out the flask and shook it before returning it back inside his coat.

  “What is it?” Aaron asked with interest. “I could use a flask like that.”

  “Yes, you could. Next time
I fill mine up, I’ll get you a full one as well.”

  “Thanks.” He noted that Jaret hadn’t answered his question, but figured maybe it was medicine one needed a prescription for or something.

  They sat there in the cool breeze all night. Sometimes they spoke, others they just sat comfortably next to one another. Aaron had no idea how Jaret felt about his disease, but as the other man hadn’t run yet, he took that as a good sign. “So,” he said as the light in the eastern sky began to lighten. “Want to come back to the homestead? You can have breakfast with us and talk to Davis about a job. There’re plenty of rooms to pick from. Job pays wage plus room and board.” That much he knew.

  “I—let’s do it.” His change of words intrigued Aaron, but as the other man leapt to his feet and reached a hand down to help him up, he elected not to ask.

  “I gotta warn you,” he said as they walked back to his home. “It’s mostly my cousins who cook. And as much as they try, their creations are rather inedible.”

  A bark of a laugh left the man next to him. “Good to know. Might get this flask filled up sooner rather than later.”

  A hand slipped into his and as he slid his fingers between Jaret’s, he strangely felt as though he’d come home.

  Chapter Nine

  Allergic to the sun. Jaret didn’t know quite how to handle that excuse. There was no doubt Aaron was drakyl, but it was also obvious he didn’t know. If he did, surely he wouldn’t be so stupid as to go outside in the daytime.

  Sitting in the kitchen at a long table made of marble, he watched Aaron as he took bowls down from the cupboards and ingredients out of the pantry. Shit. The guy even knew how to cook human food. It had been so long since Jaret imbibed anything besides blood—or alcohol laced with blood—that he couldn’t imagine it. From the few memories he had of when he first changed, human food had made him hideously ill. Remembering Aaron’s words from earlier, “Been too sick to eat. Everything makes me throw up,” he felt sorrow for the other man. Why hadn’t the other drakyl who lived here told him what was going on? Why would they let him suffer like this for years?

  This house was definitely the lair for one who could not go out during the day. From what he’d been able to see from outside, the structure had few windows and those it had were covered in heavy material. The kitchen had no windows at all.

  The absence of sound made him look up to where Aaron was looking at him nervously. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

  “No. Just trying to make sense of everything.”

  Aaron chuckled. “Don’t hurt yourself. Nothin’ makes sense to me except the land.”

  “You love it here, then.” Jaret couldn’t imagine becoming one with one section of property. He rather enjoyed moving on, seeing new places, taking part in new adventures.

  “It’s a part of me.” His hand slowly stirred whatever he’d put together in a large bowl as he spoke. “The horses, the cattle, the thunderclouds over the mountains. Best of all is the scent of the rain before it hits. Everythin’ here is home to me. Where do you call home?”

  Wincing, he shrugged. “You know the saying home is where you hang your hat? Yep, that’s me. I’ve travelled the world and intend to travel it for the rest of my life.” Even as the words left his lips, he wondered how they sounded. By Aaron’s frown, he assumed the idea did not sound palatable. And why that should bother him, he had no clue.

  The sound of footsteps coming across a floor made him turn toward the door. “Who’s up?” he asked.

  “Probably Uncle Davis. He’s usually up first when he’s not ill.”

  “Is he allergic to the sun, too?” Jaret asked, wondering how Aaron’s uncle must explain away the fact he didn’t age. Of course, Aaron had definitely aged. He looked to be in his early thirties, which was odd for one of their kind. Jaret had taken the final step through the change when he was twenty-three, but in his time, that was the equivalent to a man in his late thirties nowadays.

  “No, just me.”

  Before they could say anything else, the door swung open and an elderly man walked in. Jaret gaped at him for a moment. This man was not drakyl. Holy shit. At well over six feet tall, Davis was a bit imposing in the doorway, even in jeans and a button-down shirt. His full head of gray hair was neatly combed and except for the eyes, he looked like a man near death. The eyes, though, as bright blue as his nephew’s, were shrewd. And focused on him.

  “Mornin’, Uncle,” Aaron said, stopping what he was doing to walk over and kiss the other man on the cheek. “I brought us a hand.” He waved toward Jaret with a smile and Davis looked between them.

  “I see.” The voice was deep, rumbling through the room.

  Standing up slowly, Jaret held out a hand, confused at the wonderful scent of human blood that poured off the man, along with the fermented scent of lemon. What the hell was going on here? “The name’s Jaret,” he said politely even as the older man’s hand encased his own. It was a human hand and could be so easily broken, but it felt strong enough as it clasped his.

  “Davis Drakyl.” Since Davis released his hand and turned toward his nephew, Jaret was able to take a few minutes to put his face back into a careful, calm mask before his shock caught their attention. Drakyl? Their last name was Drakyl? “We can definitely use the help. What can you do?” Taking a chair at the far end of the table, Davis sat down. Almost as though putting himself between Jaret and Aaron. The man knew something, though how much Jaret couldn’t tell.

  “I can ride. And I’m used to hard work. Also, I have very good eyesight.” After a pause, as the older man didn’t respond, he added, “But I insist on working at night.”

  Aaron’s head swiveled around in surprise. “That’s not gonna—”

  “Aaron,” Davis said calmly. “I tried to wake up Will to come to breakfast, but you and I both know he probably went right back to sleep. Can you go get him up?”

  Snorting a laugh, Aaron nodded. “Yeah. I’ll make sure the others are up, too. Just don’t let any of them make the pancakes or we’ll have carbon for breakfast.”

  Putting the spoon down, he turned and walked to the door and looked over his shoulder, confusion in his expression, before turning and heading out into the living room. Jaret’s gaze lingered there for a moment before returning to the other man. David leaned forward a little, looking Jaret in the eyes. “I know what you are.”

  “As I do you.”

  A slightly raised eyebrow was the man’s only physical response. “Why are you here? What made you choose this ranch to apply at?”

  “That should be obvious,” Jaret said with a hint of a growl. He wasn’t used to answering to anyone else and this human bothered him for many reasons.

  “I have a few theories, but I would like to know for certain first.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Jaret assumed he had minutes at most to get this figured out before Aaron and his cousins arrived. He could play it cool, not admit to what he was, but he always followed his instinct and it told him to lay it all out. “A few days ago I scented drakyl. I also smelled Aaron. After following the delicious scent, I met up with Aaron on Friday night.” Leaning forward, he stared the old man down. “I intend to watch him from now on. What the fuck do you mean starving him of his feed? Why haven’t you told him?” This time the growl wasn’t hinted at, but rumbled along the walls.

  Davis’s eyes widened for a moment before his entire body deflated. “I wasn’t positive,” he said quietly, as though admitting to a grievous sin, no longer looking at Jaret. “I’d never met one before, not one who became a living drakyl. With Aaron, I couldn’t be sure. People have allergies to the sun all the time now. I thought…I hoped…” Groaning he reached up and rubbed his eyes before once again meeting Jaret’s gaze. Only this time, he looked defeated. “I hoped that wasn’t what happened to him. Until I saw you this morning, I held to that excuse. I can’t do that anymore.”

  “No, you cannot. He should not be out in the daytime and he should have a steady stream of blood in
his system.” Jaret snarled. “Both times I’ve fed him blood, his aches have dulled and he’s felt better.”

  They stared at one another until the distinct sound of laughter came from the other side of the door. Jaret sat back and focused on being calm so his expression wouldn’t give him away. He had to hand it to the old man. His growl and the expression of fury that had to have been on his face would normally make a human pee their pants. Even those who had heard of his kind. Instead, Davis just watched him.

  The door opened and three teenagers fought each other to get through the door first, all of them pausing when they caught sight of Jaret.

  “Boys, meet Jaret. Aaron told him about the ranch. He’s our new ranch hand,” Davis said when they just kept staring. “Come say hello.”

  “Wow,” the one he’d seen earlier yesterday said, staring at him as the other two made it into the kitchen first. “You’re almost as pale as Aaron.”

  His lips quirked in amusement. True. He wasn’t as pale as the man who should have finished his change years ago. A constant influx of human blood made his skin appear closer to ivory, albeit, the whitest ivory one could imagine. “So I’ve been told,” he responded evenly.

  “I’m Will,” the kid continued with a wide grin, walking right up to him and holding out his hand. “We can definitely use the help.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Jaret said, shaking the outstretched hand. A moment later, two more hands were in front of him.