“Fuck, Eddie, I… I…!”
Sam was there, right there without Ed having to touch his cock again, merely thrusting and sucking Sam’s finger like he might eat it whole.
Ed was close too, but there was still one thing he wanted, and as much as a part of him screamed, “No! Stop!” it was his nature and too easy to nudge that finger from his mouth, knock Sam’s arms aside too, and swoop down while still fucking Sam to get at his neck.
He shouldn’t need it, he didn’t need it, but he still sank his fangs deep into the curve of Sam’s throat for a rush of warm blood to flood his tongue.
ED’S FANGS sank into Sam’s throat, and at first, it was so unexpected, Sam didn’t feel it, only the continued, unrivaled bliss of Ed slamming into his prostate with a force and skill no other lover could match.
But then Sam did feel it—the fangs, the blood draining from him, the pain.
“Ed—”
Ed latched on tighter, sucking harder, hips still madly pumping. Sam couldn’t speak, couldn’t fight at first, too stunned to do more than gasp.
Then, just when he was ready to thrash and try to throw Ed off him, the pain faded. Ed’s bite was warm and sharp and dizzying at once, but it didn’t hurt. It was almost… nice. And as Sam surrendered to it, still right on the brink, the combined pleasure of Ed’s arms around him, his fangs, his cock, finally let him come.
He felt Ed come inside him soon after but was unable to verbalize how amazing it had been because he slipped quickly into a deep… sleep.
“Sam!”
Sam startled awake like he did only after the deadest of slumbers—or after passing out when Mim got too many tequila shots in him.
For a moment he didn’t remember where he was or anything that had happened, until he took in the bedroom and slowly recalled his night with Ed.
They’d had sex.
It had been incomparably hot.
Then Ed had bitten him.
Which only made it hotter.
“Thank God,” Ed’s voice came again, right there at his bedside.
He wasn’t in it, though. He wasn’t naked anymore either. He was dressed, and the room was brighter, because there was sunshine trying to steal in through the curtains.
“Here, please. You need to eat something.” Ed pushed a glass of water and a plate with a very greasy and delicious-looking grilled cheese on top of it.
Sam hadn’t realized how starved he was until the smell hit him. He sat up to accept the food, but almost lay right back down when the room spun. He was so hungry. And dizzy. And still really tired. So, before he spoke or gave any word of thanks, he tore into the sandwich.
“Shit,” he gasped, after swallowing a large bite and downing a gulp of water. “Guess this is what donating blood feels like.” He tried to chuckle, but Ed did not look amused.
He remained crouched by the bedside, as if refusing to get closer. He looked like he was sitting vigil at Sam’s funeral instead of offering a much-needed breakfast.
“Hey,” Sam said, speaking around his chewing, “I hope I didn’t taste that bad to give you such a sour face.”
“Don’t joke,” Ed bit out, sharp and angry, and then immediately looked sorry. “There is nothing to joke about, Sam. I nearly killed you.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam set the plate on the mattress. “I call this a win. I was ready to celebrate.”
“How can you say that? It must have been so painful, so frightening when I attacked. It was only after I came that I realized….”
Sam moved across the bed and set the water glass on the nightstand so he could take Ed’s face in his hands. “Eddie, look at me. Yeah, the worst happened, but you still stopped yourself. Don’t you see that? I’m fine. And it didn’t hurt.”
Ed opened his eyes to gawk at him skeptically.
“Okay, it hurt a little, but only at first. Maybe because you didn’t want to hurt me, after the initial sting, it started to feel… good. Honestly, I think it helped me finish.” It was then that Sam realized he didn’t feel sticky anywhere, which meant Ed had cleaned him and tucked him into bed, worrying over him all night until he woke up. “I’m just sorry I fell asleep right after so I couldn’t tell you how amazing it was.”
With a small, miserable smile, Ed reached up to place his hand over Sam’s. “You’re sweet. I can say without embellishment that it was amazing for me too, better than anything I’ve ever experienced in all my years—until I ruined it.
“We can’t keep doing this, Sam. I know you thought it would be okay, that I just needed to ease in and adjust, but look what happened. I can’t risk it happening again.”
“What are you saying?” Sam knew the grip he had on Ed’s cheek and the back of his neck was becoming too desperate and cloying. “We’ll figure things out. I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me—”
“But I did. And it’s too risky to try again.” Ed attempted to pull away, but Sam held fast.
“Don’t do this. There’s an obvious fix, you already know it, and you’d never have to be afraid again.” Sam spoke before he’d fully thought about what he was suggesting. They’d danced around it, but he’d never actually asked, and Ed hadn’t offered.
“It’s not that simple,” Ed said.
“Why not? If you want me. If I’m willing. And I am willing. I could be like you—”
“No.” Ed shook his head, the somber expression he wore tearing at Sam’s chest, but not nearly as badly as when Ed pried Sam’s hands off, using his superior strength to pull away and stand. “This is why I don’t make friends. Why I don’t take lovers or get close to anyone. Ever.
“I never thought someone could see me at my worst, at my most brutal, and still look at me the way you do, but the reality is you’ve only known me for a couple of months. You’re young. You can’t ask for forever when you haven’t even lived one lifetime.”
“Says who?” Sam spat, sitting up farther and feeling the room tilt around him. “You weren’t that much older than me when you were changed.”
“I wasn’t given a choice. My maker never meant to me what you do.”
“And no one’s ever meant to me what you do! Go ahead and think I’m just some dumb kid who doesn’t get it, but does that mean my feelings don’t matter? Do you think you’re not worth someone wanting to be with you forever?”
Ed looked away, shame and anguish washing over his face and making his answer clear.
“Well, I do,” Sam said, dropping his feet over the side of the bed, naked still and not caring, because he needed Ed to come back to him. “I’ve tried not to think about it, okay? To just enjoy what we have, but you’re right. Our time together has been the blink of an eye, less for you, I’m sure. That doesn’t change how I feel or how much I’d….” He laughed as the phrase came to him. “How much I’d gladly stay in the Underworld if you’d give me the same choice Hades gave Persephone.”
Ed’s eyes flew back to him. “Sam….”
“You’re afraid you’ll hurt me again, or that if you make me like you, I’ll regret it. And I’m telling you right now that neither of those things is going to happen.” He reached for Ed’s face again, satisfied that Ed didn’t try to escape, and pulled him down for a promising kiss.
“I love you, Eddie,” Sam whispered.
A gasp shuddered from Ed’s lips, like he’d never believed he would hear Sam say that.
So Sam said it again—”I love you”—and leaned up once more.
The chime of the doorbell stopped Sam a hair’s breadth from Ed’s lips, and he laughed without humor.
Every time.
Ed pulled away to cross the room and peer out the curtains down to the driveway. “It’s Daniel and Black. Your bike’s back at the hotel. We could ignore them—”
“We can’t.” Sam tossed the covers aside to get up. He didn’t see his clothes from last night, so he went to the dresser to grab something, impressed that he only teetered a little.
“What are you doing?” Ed race
d to his side with a burst of speed, his hands suddenly at Sam’s waist and elbow to aid him. “Get back to bed.”
“I’m fine. We don’t know what they want. You need me to go down there with you, make sure Black isn’t about to try something we can’t predict. Just help me get dressed, and I’ll finish the sandwich on our way downstairs.”
The doorbell rang again, signaling their impatience. While Ed still scowled, he helped Sam as quickly as he could so they could answer the call. Sandwich devoured and plate set aside, they arrived in the foyer just as the bell rang a third time.
“Sorry about that.” Sam answered the door so Ed could stay in the shadows. “We were still in bed. Everything okay, Detectives?” He smiled genuinely at Daniel and boldly back at Black, whose cold eyes betrayed his fury.
It was nice seeing him mad.
“Cut yourself shaving, Sam?” Daniel asked with a friendly chuckle.
Sam’s hand went to his neck. He hadn’t thought about the bite marks, but Ed had bandaged the wound. “Perils of going through antiques, I guess. Sometimes you catch yourself on sharp edges. What can I do for you two on a Saturday morning?”
“May we come in, Mr. Coleman?” Black pressed.
“Of course. Ed!” Sam called as he opened the door wider. “It’s our detective friends again.”
Ed, despite how he might actually be feeling, came in as the perfect host. “Hello again. Does this have anything to do with the news and that bar Sam frequents? We heard there was a body found after I picked him up from the hotel last night.”
They should have discussed alibis, but that was as good an explanation as any for why Sam was there without his bike. Lacking footage of Ed getting Sam in his car was better than conflicting footage somewhere else.
“Don’t worry, neither of you is under any suspicion,” Daniel assured them, while Black’s eyes glowed with fierceness around his fake smile. “Logan at the bar confirmed that Sam left well before the murder could have taken place, but we still need to question everyone who was there last night. Anything you can tell us, Sam, about suspicious characters?”
Sam let himself snicker. “It’s not the most reputable of places, but the food’s good and cheap, and my friend is dating one of the waitresses, so you know how it is. I can’t say I noticed anything out of the ordinary. Honestly, the weirdest thing would be Lara, and only because she’s only been there a few weeks.” A wicked pleasure coursed through him at being able to say all that and not have any of it be a lie.
“Right, we spoke with her. Of course, we can’t tell you anything about an ongoing investigation or who might be suspects, but your friend is dating her? Gerry Ziggler?”
Lara must have given them the name, which could mean she was covering her tracks but could also be concerning. “That’s him. I’m afraid I don’t know Lara very well, though, to offer any insight.”
“Logan mentioned Gerry and another friend of yours, Mim? They both work at the mall? We’ll likely check in with them later too. I had a feeling you might be here, but can you give me another address to find you all?”
So much for moving hotels.
“Sure,” Sam said, and gave the name and room number. “We actually moved last night to have a better rate on long-term stay, since we’re all between places right now, and so Gerry could be closer to Lara. Crazy that all this is happening.”
“And you weren’t with Mr. Coleman until you picked him up after dinner?” Black asked Ed.
“No,” Ed said simply.
There wasn’t much else to say. It was still all circumstantial and coincidental that death kept happening around Sam and Ed, but Sam wasn’t a fool to think that Black calling him Coleman every chance he got wasn’t without purpose.
“Hey, Daniel, I need to come clean about something,” Sam said resolutely. “Ed knows now, and I don’t want to lie to you anymore. My name isn’t really Coleman.”
Daniel looked sincerely shocked—Ed too that Sam was admitting this now, though he did a good job of hiding it—while Black kept a cool, neutral expression.
“I lied to Ed when I applied for this job because I have a record. My real name is Sam Goldman.”
“That’s fraud,” Daniel said in disappointment. “A name might not seem like a big deal, but if you lied about a degree or your criminal record, the state penal code—”
“I know. I swear I only did it to secure this job, and the only person affected was Ed.”
“And I have no intention of pressing charges,” Ed said. “He’s been nothing but stalwart, and this is a private position, after all.”
“Yes, it’s obvious you enjoy all sorts of private positions,” Black said, earning a scowl from Daniel, though there wasn’t much to defend since Sam had already admitted he’d slept there last night.
“There won’t be any sexual harassment suits either,” Sam replied snidely.
“Look”—Daniel tried to mediate—“this isn’t exactly a situation where you’d get slapped with a fine, but I’m glad you told me. I may have done a background check on ‘Sam Coleman’ after we met. I’m a husband and father after all, besides a detective. And I get it, you didn’t think you could get a second chance if Ed knew your background. It’s a good thing you were upfront about this now, or it could have looked really bad if we found out another way.”
“My thinking exactly.” Sam nodded at Daniel, and then looked right at Black. “I don’t want my mistakes to reflect badly on Ed.”
“Don’t worry,” Daniel said, “I don’t see how this could possibly be related to the murders. I will have to run another background check on you, though.”
“I’m sure you’ll shake your head at my juvi record.” Sam hadn’t been caught or charged with any of his recent crimes.
“Just misdemeanors, I assume, no assault?”
“Never any violent crimes, I promise.” Which was technically true, even if now Sam was an accessory.
“I wouldn’t have thought so, but I had to ask. No offense, but neither of you really seems the violent type. We should get going—” Daniel’s phone started to ring. “Shoot. It’s the precinct. If you have any other questions, Hal, go ahead. I’ll just take this. Thanks again, you two.”
Once Daniel was out the door, all pretense dropped.
“Lara’s fingerprints are in the system,” Black said, “under multiple names, but no one is going to find that out. Nice try.”
The grilled cheese had helped Sam’s dizziness, but seeing Black squirm helped even more. “You let her do all your dirty work, huh? She must be pretty disposable.”
Black’s eyes burned with how much he was trying to hide his reaction. “This changes nothing. It’s time for you to decide who you want this newest murder to point to, because it won’t be her.
“Finish the Cramers. Today. And no more frame jobs. When it’s over, message me.” He took out his phone and purposely clicked Send on a ready message that made the phone in Sam’s pocket vibrate. “I’ll tell you where to meet. Then we end this, and I’ll tell you everything I want. Have a nice day, gentlemen,” he finished and turned on his heels to slam the door.
They had him.
“He’s scared.” Sam turned to Ed. “But I can’t risk him being too scared. Can I ask my friends to come here? It’ll make things easier convincing Gerry to help us, and I’d feel better having them close.”
“Of course. But Sam….” Ed’s voice was soft, drawing Sam’s eyes up from his phone as he took it out to send a text, ignoring the message from Black that simply said, Tonight. “I know all this takes precedence, but we still need to discuss—”
“No, we don’t,” Sam said with a frown, broaching no argument, because he knew exactly what Ed wanted to talk about. “There is no discussion. It’s just a question. Do you love me or not? That’s all that matters.” He looked back at his phone to finish the text, mostly to still his anxiety, unsure how Ed would respond.
Ed was silent, but there was an answering text from Mim immediately.
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If you’re finally going to be honest with us, we’re already on our way.
Sam wished she hadn’t worded it like that, because there was never going to be a time when he could tell them everything.
Ed still hadn’t spoken, so Sam had to look up, but when he did, Ed’s head turned, and his eyes went wide.
“Ed—”
“Shh,” Ed shushed Sam harshly, craning his ear toward the living room. “Their car’s almost down the driveway, but I can hear—” He cut off abruptly, moving lightning fast to guard Sam behind him.
Sam realized several things at once.
They hadn’t heard the patio doors because they’d been too focused on Daniel and Black.
There were two people in Ed’s home, and neither of them was a detective.
The Cramers both had guns.
“At last we meet, Mr. Simons,” Brock said as he crested the corner from the living room, followed by his wife, both prim and pressed yet somehow haggard-looking. “So glad you could send those detectives away so easily, because we need to have this chat in private.”
Chapter 10
BROCK AND Celia hadn’t seen Ed’s inhuman flash to Sam’s side, but Sam could feel the tension in Ed as he shielded him from the menacing aim of their guns.
Ed wanted to tear them apart, but he shouldn’t, he couldn’t, not when they hadn’t planned for this and cops had literally just left the driveway.
“Don’t,” Sam whispered. “We can use this.”
Stepping up beside Ed and seeing the stiffness in him ratchet higher, Sam knew he had to be the one to speak.
“We can have whatever chat you want, but you don’t need those.” He nodded at the guns.
They would hardly faze Ed, but he’d admitted that enough blood loss could still kill him, and Sam didn’t want to learn what it felt like to get shot.
“Oh, I think we do,” Celia said, keeping her gun on Ed while Brock stayed focused on Sam, “considering all our friends are dead, and this all started with you.”
They were squared off across the foyer, Sam and Ed near the main doors and the Cramers poised at the living room entrance.
Their Dark Reflections Page 18
