“I saw the account numbers they’re transferring everything to,” he said.
“From Fitz’s computer? How?”
Ed didn’t answer but held out a piece of paper with several numbers on it. “Which one is yours?”
Sam inched forward, struggling to get his pulse back under control. “That one.”
“Which means one of these others belongs to whoever sent them after me.”
“Could it be another vampire?”
“No. We don’t play games with each other like that.”
“Do you have enemies?” Sam asked.
“None breathing,” Ed said absently. When he looked up, he seemed to come back to himself, but his expression was hard to read. “We’ll discuss next steps later, but the Cramers will pay, and so will whoever hired them.
“Go find yourself that hotel room. Tomorrow, come at your normal time. If you don’t show,” he said sternly, “I’ll come looking. Please don’t make me do that.”
“You can be out in the sun?” Sam couldn’t help asking.
“It’s uncomfortable, and I don’t like the glare, but that wouldn’t stop me—”
“I’ll be there! I was only curious.”
Ed looked away with a sigh, stuffing the piece of paper back in his pocket. Sam wasn’t sure what to say or do or anything else to expect, but after a few beats, Ed said, “I suppose you fancied yourself Hades until tonight.”
The soft tone startled Sam as much as Ed’s arrival and occasional chilling coldness. He sounded sad now, and that made Sam consider the question carefully.
“I still do,” he said, and when Ed’s eyes flashed to his, he willed himself to not start trembling. “Weren’t you listening to the last line so far? Persephone is the one to watch out for.”
A small smile twitched at Ed’s lips, and for a moment, Sam wondered if he was going to ask him to finish the tale, but he simply nodded—and leaped from the window.
Sam stared, startled yet again but also curious. He moved forward to peer outside.
Nothing. No sign of Ed.
But no bats either. He’d at least had to check.
Because Ed was a vampire. And now, Sam only worked for him.
Chapter 3
SAM THOUGHT yesterday had been rough, arriving for his workday knowing the entire time that he was about to betray a man he genuinely liked. Crazy to think that had only been twenty-four hours ago.
Now he was heading into work for his vampire master so they could plan out several murders.
At least the Cramers hadn’t lied; that morning, there had been so many fresh zeroes in the joint bank account Sam shared with his friends that they’d be able to survive for a long time. Once his debt to Ed was paid.
“I’m here!” Sam called as he entered the house—fifteen minutes early. The foyer smelled of lavender, with no remaining traces of ammonia at all.
From the blood.
He shuddered. He told himself he had nothing to fear as long as he followed Ed’s orders. He’d been so concerned with pleasing him this first day, but maybe being early explained Ed’s absence.
The silence in reply to his arrival drew his attention to the living room. The patio doors were shut with the curtains drawn like always. Sam approached them slowly, visions of last night assaulting his senses like flickers of apparitions—Ed’s eyes and fangs as the man’s throat lay torn open, drops of blood trailing on the carpet, the way Ed had held the man afterward and lapped at the remaining dribbles….
But the carpet was clean now, Sam had made sure of that himself, and when he peeked behind the curtains, Ed had obviously disposed of the body and hosed off the remaining blood into the drains, because the patio looked empty and spotless.
“Dammit!” A distant voice made him jump.
“Ed?” Sam returned to the foyer.
“Up here!” Ed called. “Just one more minute!”
Now Sam was curious and ascended the stairs, following Ed’s voice to the bedroom. He found him grumbling to himself in front of his dresser mirror, fumbling unsuccessfully with his bow tie.
“Urg! This is impossible today!” Ed huffed, roughly tugging the ends loose.
Sam chuckled, and Ed’s eyes snapped to him so furiously that dread coursed through him like before. Only for it to crumble, because Ed crumbled, turning fidgety in familiar embarrassment.
“I-I-I was just—”
“Going to all that trouble for me?”
“I like looking presentable for myself too!”
Sam chuckled again, reminded of why he’d been so charmed by Ed in the beginning. “Come here.” He strode into the room and reached up to finish doing the bow tie himself.
His fingers were good for more than lifting wallets and the occasional sleight of hand, and he finished the job almost as quickly as he’d undone Ed’s tie the other day.
“There. Or you could go without,” Sam teased, but the intense way Ed stared at him made him shrink back uncertainly. “N-not that you… have to listen to me.”
“I like listening to you.” Ed followed him, as if he hadn’t meant to make him worry. “You’re so much better at some things. And you’re right,” he said with finality, undoing the bow tie once more. “Maybe you can help me look for some updates to my wardrobe.”
“Sure,” Sam said, taking a breath to steady his pulse. He felt so foolish, caught between two ways to act around Ed and completely unsure which was right.
“Did you sleep well?” Ed asked, pulling the tie out from around his collar and setting it on the dresser.
“At the Marriot?” Sam chose his words carefully. “Well enough.”
That cold stillness settled over Ed as he turned to face Sam.
Shit.
“I know you’re lying. I waited and followed you to the Hilton.”
Shit.
“I-I was going to admit the truth even if you didn’t call me on it, I just—”
“I understand. You need to know what you can get away with, and you want to protect your friends. They seemed nice, like they really care about you.”
“Please….” A tremor shivered up from the base of Sam’s spine.
“I’m not threatening them.”
“Yes, you are.”
Ed paused and glanced away with a pinch of sorrow. “Yes, I am. I don’t want to, but I need to know I can trust you.”
“I get it. No more lies.”
“Thank you. I do believe you’re trustworthy, Sam. After all, you’re here. That’s why I’d like you to do what you can to trace the other account numbers.” Ed took out the piece of paper from last night and handed it to Sam.
“I can do that,” Sam said. Or rather, Gerry could.
“But first, shall we get back to those investment ideas?”
“Oh. Uhh….”
“Since we didn’t get to finish everything yesterday. We ended early so we could get ready for our… I mean….” Ed shut his eyes, as if pained to remember their “date” that never happened. “If you don’t mind still helping me with things like that?”
“I don’t mind,” Sam said quickly.
“We have all day to discuss other things.”
Like murder, Sam filled in.
“Shall we go into the office?”
Sam could do this. This was easy. And even though relaxing around Ed proved difficult, once they were in their customary seats—Sam in his roller chair, Ed in his straight-back—mulling over investment portfolios almost felt normal.
Until Sam knocked a pen from the desk.
“I’ll get it,” Ed said just as Sam leaned down too, and suddenly, he was lunging for Sam’s throat!
Sam kicked at the carpet to send the roller chair flying back a foot.
Ed startled, looking confused, because he hadn’t been lunging at anything. He frowned and finished claiming the pen to set it back on the desk.
“S-sorry,” Sam stammered.
“It’s all different now, isn’t it?” Ed said sadly.
“Just hard to
forget I saw you eat someone last night.” Sam cringed, wishing he hadn’t said it like that.
“I never would have hurt you,” Ed affirmed. “I won’t hurt you. Or your friends—”
“Unless I give you a reason,” Sam said.
Ed sighed, and with it cracked the remaining coldness until there was only sorrow left. “Then forget all that.”
“What?”
“I can’t do this. I can’t bear to have you look at me like….” He winced and clenched his eyes closed as if to stay tears. “Just go. You don’t owe me anything, and you never have to see me again.” He stood abruptly and tried to turn for the door, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his wrist.
“Wait. There’s something bigger going on here. I want to understand it too.”
“No, you don’t. You’re just afraid of me.”
“You’d let me walk out the door?”
“I shouldn’t.” Ed’s eyes drifted back slowly, but he didn’t try to pull from Sam’s grip. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t bear to see you hurting, and I have your picture when I want to remember you.”
All those weeks Sam thought he’d been reading Ed so easily, and he’d been proven wrong, but he swore there was no con in Ed’s eyes now, the way they’d conned each other for so long.
He let his hand fall from Ed’s wrist. “I’ll stay.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because I work for you.” Sam mustered a smile. “And I’m too wrapped up in this to walk away without seeing it to the end. I owe you that. But no more threats. I won’t betray you, but my friends—”
“I swear.” Ed nodded, reclaiming his chair.
“And no more games. You don’t need to play a role for me.”
“What do you mean?” Ed looked at him innocently, endearingly, something he easily could have let fall away now, but that was just it.
“This is the real you too, isn’t it?” Sam said softly.
“Who else would I be?”
Sam took a breath, watching carefully for Ed’s reactions as he slid the roller chair closer. “And so… Hades took Persephone across the river Styx.”
Ed’s eyes widened—honest and interested, just as Sam had hoped.
“She had lied a little. She was afraid. Of the future. Of the unknown. But not of him. Her darkness could be greater than all the Underworld she saw around her, because what was more violent and terrifying than a summer storm that brought the floods and great lightning down from Zeus himself?
“The spring brought life and beauty, the summer warmth, but it all ended in death, one way or another. Hades was merely the guardian of it all, not the cause.
“Persephone wondered just how many dead she’d laid at Hades’ feet.”
The deep longing in Ed’s expression tempered the fear that kept finding its way into Sam’s stomach.
“Hades knew all that,” Sam continued. “As they’d talked on their way down from Mount Olympus, he’d realized who she was—daughter of Demeter, goddess of natural life and the rebirth and return to death of spring fading into summer and giving way to autumn.
“Hades was afraid too, but not of her. He feared he’d love her and lose her as fleetingly as when a storm passed.”
They’d started to gravitate closer while Sam talked, whatever doubts he might have had pushed aside as he reached for Ed’s cheek.
“Don’t.” Ed drew back. “Don’t play a role for me either. If you think you need to, to protect yourself, you don’t—”
“Eddie,” Sam said, daring to grasp his face anyway, because he did need to know what he could get away with—and what he wanted. If Ed could be willing to let him go, maybe whatever this was between them was worth going after, even if Ed was far more dangerous than any god. “Humor me.”
And then he kissed him.
SAM KISSED him.
And oh, his lips and mouth were so much better than the man from last night.
Ed had longed to feel the pliant press of Sam’s mouth, the slow tilt of his head, the subtle slip of tongue between his teeth, and the gentle prodding to push the kiss deeper.
He shouldn’t let it go deeper. He shouldn’t let them kiss at all. It would only make him want more, when he knew how risky this was, even just to steal a simple taste.
“Wait,” Ed gasped, unsure where to put his hands as Sam held him captive with that palm on his cheek, “we can’t.”
“Why not?” Sam panted back, twisting his fingers in Ed’s shirt. “You want this. I know that part wasn’t a lie. I see you now, Eddie. All of you. I get it. And I still want you too. I’m sorry I lied and used you like that.”
“I’m sorry too.” Ed melted at the sweet words. “I wish you hadn’t seen—”
Sam captured his words with another kiss, then another, each reconnection growing more frantic. Ed had to stop it, but all he could think about with each new plunge of Sam’s tongue was tearing his shirt open, climbing into his lap like he had with that unworthy man last night, and rutting until he felt something real.
Their knees knocked together, and Ed spread his apart, letting Sam get closer. Sam’s hand dragged down Ed’s stomach, reached the waistband of his slacks, and paused only a moment before continuing down between Ed’s legs and squeezing.
“Sam,” Ed moaned, dizzy from having the smell of Sam all around him, stronger with their arousal. “A-aren’t you… still afraid?”
Sam pulled back to gaze into Ed’s eyes as if looking for a reason to be afraid, but didn’t seem to find any. “I don’t care,” he said and kissed Ed again.
Ed tried to tamp down the urge to seek out the rush of blood he could hear in Sam’s veins, tried to pull away, but Sam kept following him, kept rubbing between his legs with the same deft fingers that could tie a bow tie so effortlessly and just as easily make it disappear.
Clawing forward to grip Sam’s thighs, Ed couldn’t stop kissing him back, but between licks and nips and harried breaths, he tried talking sense. “S-sometimes, if I get too excited, I….”
“It’s okay,” Sam said, continuing with firm, rhythmic strokes, “let it happen.”
“N-no, I mean, I… I-I….”
Ed’s eyes sharpened, fangs lengthening, as he pulled back with a hungry growl and lunged for Sam’s throat.
“Fuck!” Sam cried, kicking away with the roller chair, only this time, it caught on the carpet, sending him toppling backward, the wheels spinning as they nearly struck Ed in the face.
Which finally snapped him to his senses.
“Sam!” he cried, leaping to his aid, but when he tried to reach down, Sam frantically scrambled away from him on his elbows. “I’m sorry!” Ed held up his hands, forcing his face to shift human. “I’m sorry.”
They were both breathing hard, the terror on Sam’s face unmistakable and the passion of the moment ruined. It took a minute, but eventually Sam raised a shaky hand and let Ed help him to his feet.
“That happens, huh?”
“I’m so sorry. I won’t hurt you. I won’t hurt your friends. I promise—”
“I believe you, or I never would have kissed you. Maybe you just need practice.” Sam offered a weak smile, reaching for Ed’s face again.
“Sam….” Ed placed his hand over his, touched that he was still willing to try.
“We’ll go slower.”
“I don’t know if—”
A knock at the door made them both jump, and Sam snatched his hand back again.
“S-sorry,” he stammered, clearly more afraid than he wanted to admit.
“No, I’m the one who—”
Another knock cut Ed off with an anguished scowl.
“I’ll get it,” Sam said, casting Ed a yearning glance, “but I am not running away.”
WHY WASN’T Sam running away? He definitely hadn’t imagined the lunge that time, but he couldn’t deny how he felt.
He was drawn to Ed, had been from day one, but especially now, realizing that Ed was equal parts monster and blushing, swooning, stu
ttering mess. Kissing him felt right, if a little cold like his hands, but more invigorating than off-putting, and certainly heated enough once they started pawing at each other.
Because Sam wasn’t being forced to stay; he’d chosen to.
Mim and Gerry would think he’d lost his mind.
“Daniel.” Sam exhaled as he opened the door, heart still pounding in his ears. “Hey. You know, now isn’t the best—”
“Sorry, Sam,” Daniel broke in, no neighborly smile this morning. He was dressed for work, the usual three-piece suit with his badge and gun very apparent, and he carried a thick file folder. “But even if Mr. Simons isn’t in right now, I’m going to have to wait for him. I’m surprised to see you here on a Saturday.”
“He… convinced me to stay on longer,” Sam said, since the best lies were the truth. “We needed to work out some new arrangements. What’s going on?”
“I’d prefer to explain that to him. I need to ask him a few questions. Are you okay?” Daniel frowned as he looked Sam over.
Sam was breathing hard. At least the scare had minimized any other telling signs of what had been going on. “Yeah, I just ran down from upstairs to answer the door. What do you need to ask Ed about?”
“Well….” Daniel obviously didn’t want to tell him, which meant it was police business.
Oh no.
“It’s all right, Sam,” Ed called from inside. “Let him in.”
Not once in the three weeks Sam had known Ed had he seen anyone cross that threshold other than them—and the man Ed killed last night.
“Mr. Simons,” Daniel said with an attempt at a smile, still far too serious. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Sam quickly closed the door as Ed came forward to shake Daniel’s hand, like two disparate worlds colliding.
“My apologies it took so long,” Ed said, smiling cordially. “I’ve been far too busy since I moved in, and keeping Sam busy too.”
“I understand. Ooof, must be cold in here,” Daniel said with a shiver.
That was just Ed.
“Smells lovely, though.”
“Thank you. Would you like something to drink, and we can sit in the kitchen? Or would you prefer the living room?”
Their Dark Reflections Page 7
