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  The way that metaphor got out of control is, in itself, a metaphor for how Adrian’s life is going right now.

  He has to get his head back in the game. Now is not the time for letting his trash lizard brain get the better of him and demanding sex. Now is not the time for deciding he’s interested in finding out why Xavier isn’t big on interspecies dating.

  All these distractions are just making everything crazy and mixed up, confusing Adrian right when he needs to be thinking clearly.

  Okay. So. First important question that Adrian needs to consider: why doesn’t Xavier want to have humans in his life? He might be a vampire, but he’s also incredibly hot and great at sex, so there’s no reason he’d have any problem getting a few pet… a few interested humans, if that’s something he wanted.

  And if he doesn’t want p… humans, why is he still keeping Adrian here, instead of killing him or letting him go?

  No answers present themselves, and thinking too long about the questions just makes Adrian’s head hurt.

  Next, he tries killing time with yet another long, long shower. He has to put the same set of clothes back on when he’s finished, because he doesn’t have any others, but he feels a lot better anyway.

  He’s always been someone who wants to look on the bright side whenever possible, and the bright side of being held prisoner by a reanimated corpse who thirsts for his blood is that at least it’s a rich corpse, and that means he gets to take as many hot showers as he likes. This would suck ten thousand times more if they were out in a shack in the woods or something.

  Adrian sighs. Back to the only other activity at his disposal, then. Pacing again.

  Revealing all that stuff about his past was a mistake. Adrian knows that. He tries not to even think about it, much less talk about it. Telling Xavier can’t lead to anything good, and it’s stirred up things in Adrian’s head that he likes to leave untouched.

  His most vivid memory of those years — being afraid doesn’t count as a single memory, because he was afraid all the time — is from when he was fourteen. It had been going on long enough by then that he’d started getting used to the routine. He’d gone to the same address as always, feeling a little sick and giddy as he’d knocked on the door.

  He’d hated it, but… but it felt good. That meant he liked it, right?

  He’d always hated the way she talked to him, fawning over him like he was younger than his real age. He was small for fourteen, sure, but that didn’t mean he was some dumb kid, you know? But she always acted like he was.

  Even now, Adrian can remember standing there on the doorstep, sick and excited and scared, fidgeting because he hated staying still. His pulse pounding in his wrists and elbows and neck. Those were the places she liked best.

  He barely makes it to the bathroom sink before he throws up. Adrian runs the faucet and rinses his mouth out, washing all the mess down the drain, feeling empty and filthy.

  He’s got to get out of here. No matter how messed up his head has gotten, he’s got to remember the truth of what vampires are like, what they do to people.

  He has to stay focused and get away. Vampires get sick of humans. He needs to escape before that happens again. He was glad of it, when it happened with her. But when it happens with Xavier, what’s going to happen to Adrian?

  15

  XAVIER

  Emelie has always taken her patronage of the arts quite seriously. Xavier thinks that’s likely what drew her and Winter into one another’s orbits; the two share a mutual love of the beautiful things that humans can create when they put their minds to it.

  So this is very far from being the first gallery opening night that Xavier’s accompanied her to. Her entourage has grown somewhat over the years, though — the limousine she’s currently riding in also holds Xavier, and Winter and Lennon, and one of her bodyguards: a soft-spoken, ruthless vampire named Nova whom Xavier has known long enough to trust as the head of Emelie’s security. Two other bodyguards are in a second car, following behind.

  “Thank goodness for an excuse for all of us to get out,” Emelie says now, lounging as contentedly as a cat in her couture slip dress and small diamond earrings. “I love being all visible and Queenly at public events with open bars, because they all have this great nineties vampire vibe that I don’t get to indulge in all that often. Which is totally lame, because the nineties are supposed to have that nostalgia-cool, right? I really was a teenager in the nineties, so I should get so many chances to do stuff I consider cool! It stands to reason! But these days my whole life is boardroom negotiations and private parties.” She sighs sorrowfully.

  “How terrible for you. I can’t even imagine your suffering,” Xavier says dryly. His Queen pokes her tongue out at him.

  For all his sarcasm, in truth Xavier is glad of the break as well. It’ll be a chance for him to remind himself how much larger the world is than it’s felt these past few nights.

  A chance to get Adrian out of his head.

  “Think they’ll let me DJ if I promise to keep it muted and tasteful?” Lennon wonders aloud. Winter snorts.

  “Since when have you been capable of muted and tasteful?”

  Emelie grins. “He’s got you there, Len.”

  Inside is color and life, people talking and laughing as they wander through the space decorated with the artist’s newest sculptural works. The DJ performing is suitably muted and tasteful.

  Emelie and Winter immediately make a beeline for the artist, interrogating the young woman with a quick-fire barrage of questions which she seems to take in stride. The scene makes Xavier smile — it takes a certain kind of personality to thrive under Emelie’s attentions, but those who do excel in their fields.

  Although he knows there are actual bodyguards, present specifically in order to guard Emelie from any meddling Katerina might decide to undertake, Xavier can’t stop himself from being on-edge. He keeps checking around the room, scanning for trouble.

  “Chill out. Everything’s going to be fine,” Lennon assures him. “Has anyone told you that you’re kind of uptight?”

  “It may have come up in passing occasionally,” Xavier replies, deadpan.

  “You need to get laid. That’ll solve everything.”

  Xavier can’t stop the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I assure you, that’s definitely not the issue.”

  Lennon gives a loud bark of amusement at that, but before he can say anything else in response Xavier spots a familiar figure on the other side of the room.

  “Stay here,” he orders Lennon, moving over towards where Davis is chatting up one of the humans examining the artworks.

  He puts on his most jovial expression as he approaches the pair. “Davis! I didn’t know you’d be here! Why, it’s been ages. How have you been!”

  The human steps back, clearly feeling excluded from the moment. Which makes sense, since Xavier’s doing his best to actively exclude them.

  “I’ll just go, uh, get another drink,” they say, walking away.

  Davis gives Xavier an annoyed sneer. “You need to learn to keep out of business that isn’t yours.”

  The punch he throws catches Xavier off-guard, as do the cries of shock and surprise from those around them, but he regains the upper hand quickly. Davis still isn’t accustomed to only having one arm, and it throws off his center of gravity, giving Xavier the advantage.

  The fight’s over almost before it begins, Xavier pinning Davis to the floor with a knee in his back.

  Nova approaches. “Let’s get him outside.”

  Xavier hauls Davis to his feet and they frog-march him out of the gallery together, shoving him onto the sidewalk.

  He flips them off. “Have a nice evening, shitheads.”

  “A pleasure as always, Davis,” Xavier replies before turning to Nova. “Thank you for—”

  But Nova’s already racing back inside, darting through the confused and panicked crowd towards the center of commotion. Xavier’s blood runs cold, and he fo
llows at top speed, not caring in that moment what the humans around might make of it.

  One of the other bodyguards is dead, throat slit deep enough that it’s more like decapitation than anything else. The third guard, still alive, is shouting into a phone earpiece.

  The worst of Xavier’s panic loosens its grip around his heart when he sees Emelie, spattered with her guard’s blood but unharmed, Winter a half-step behind her as she shields him from potential threats.

  “They took Lennon,” she tells Xavier, fury deepening her voice to almost a growl. “We need to start a search immediately. I’ll—”

  He cuts her off. “You’ll get in the car and get to safety.”

  “Like hell I will!” she snarls.

  “Nova and the others will start the search. You need to change your clothes, and to get Winter to safety.”

  “Fuck you, Xavier! I’m your fucking Queen, you don’t get to—”

  “Em.” He puts his hands on her shoulders. “Come on. We need to go. You can’t stay here.”

  She lets out a broken sob. “He was right here. He was right here and then…”

  “I know,” he says. “Come on, let’s go begin coordinating a search.”

  The next few hours are a chaotic whirl of search parties and shakedowns, of Emelie’s extensive network hunting through the city. But Katerina and her group have all gone to ground; nobody’s seen any sight of them, or of Lennon.

  Xavier is extremely aware that there’s almost no chance that Lennon will survive this abduction. It’s only a matter of how cruelly they intend to kill him, and how long they’ll leave Emelie to wonder about his fate.

  As dawn approaches, Xavier hands off his duties to those he trusts to continue into the morning, and finds himself walking to a local 24-hour grocery store.

  He buys a selection of overpriced, slightly wilted vegetables and an array of other foods, and returns to his own apartment.

  Before unlocking the bedroom, he goes to his own closet and retrieves another set of clothing, bringing it with him as he goes to let Adrian out.

  Xavier’s mood lifts slightly as soon as he sees the young man. After having to witness hours of Emelie’s shocking grief, some irrational part of Xavier felt sure that Adrian would be gone too, inexplicably snatched away by the same monsters in the night who’ve taken Lennon.

  He lets Adrian’s usual idle chatter wash over him like a soothing wave, easing some of the worst of how he feels.

  “Hey, uh, this is totally not my place to say or whatever, but are you okay? You seem kinda ragged.”

  Xavier doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t want to let the horrors of the evening defile this small and fragile moment of stolen peace. Instead, he asks Adrian a question of his own.

  “Are you happy? In your life, I mean. Not in this present… captivity. Can anyone be happy, after their lives have touched the underworld?”

  Adrian puts down his knife and fork, chewing lightly on his bottom lip as he considers. “I was stable, I think. Not quite happy. Not yet. But maybe getting there.

  “I like helping out at the animal shelter, especially with cats that aren’t quite kittens anymore, you know? When they’re all feet and too-long legs, and they’re so full of energy all the time? I liked that. That made me happy.”

  Xavier nods. It’s an honest answer. A hopeful answer. He wishes he believed it more than he does.

  In the long moment of quiet, Adrian clears his throat. “How did you become a vampire? Did you want it, or was it forced?”

  “I wanted it,” Xavier assures him. “Or, at least, I didn’t want to be a part of the human race anymore. I thought that vampires were at least honest about being monsters. It was two years after the war. The Second World War, I mean. Nineteen forty-seven.”

  He wonders if Adrian will notice that his answer is much more the ‘why’ and the ‘when’ of his turning than it is the ‘how,’ but the answer seems to satisfy either way.

  16

  ADRIAN

  “It doesn’t seem like you’re all that happy,” Adrian can’t stop himself from remarking. “Did becoming a vampire help? Are you happier now than you were before?”

  Xavier doesn’t answer right away. Adrian doesn’t mind that. It’s a complicated question. Most people wouldn’t have an instant answer, if they were asked if they were happy. He envies the ones who know immediately that they are, and pities the ones who know that they’re not, but suspects both kinds would be in a small minority. Most people are somewhere in the middle.

  “I had a relatively happy childhood, I suppose,” Xavier offers eventually. “Poor, but everyone I knew was poor, so it made little difference. It was the war that changed everything. I lost most of my friends from back home, and because I was the one who survived I had to be the one to go home and break it to wives and parents and lovers.”

  Then, to Adrian’s surprise, Xavier draws in a shuddering sigh. Adrian’s never heard him make such a vulnerable sound, not even during sex.

  “A faction who doesn’t respect this city’s Queen took one of her humans tonight.”

  “Emelie, right? That’s the Queen? You said her name when that guy tried to grab me.”

  “Yes. One of hers. It has been… a very difficult night.”

  Adrian can’t help but feel so sorry for Xavier. There’s genuine sadness and loss in his voice and expression, the slump of his posture.

  Adrian doesn’t have many people — any people, maybe, if he’s being honest with himself — in his life that he’d say he was truly close to. It’s just safer that way. No manipulation or betrayal.

  And Xavier looking so devastated just proves that Adrian was right to think that way, doesn’t it? Even the good stuff hurts you in the end. Caring about anybody means some day you’re gonna sit alone and feel like shit.

  Adrian reaches out, touching Xavier’s hand, hoping that something as simple as that can be at least a little bit of a comfort. The feeling of his skin reminds Adrian of the things they did the last time they touched, and that makes his heart do a little somersault.

  Maybe that’s how he can offer comfort while Xavier feels like this. It might not be much, but distraction is better than nothing.

  So Adrian kisses him, pressing his lips insistently against Xavier’s until Xavier opens for him.

  After that, Adrian doesn’t have to insist any longer, because he’s being devoured.

  Almost before he knows it he’s in Xavier’s arms, wrapping his legs around Xavier’s waist as he’s carried back through to his room.

  “You’re gonna have to give me run of the apartment again eventually, if only so I can do laundry,” Adrian remarks as Xavier’s mouth sucks a wicked hickey against his collarbone. “Otherwise these sheets are gonna get too gross for us to ignore, even with how big this bed is.”

  The lube’s still here from last time, so there’s no pause to go get it before Adrian’s kicking his pants off and then kissing Xavier again, urging him to get naked too.

  This is probably all pretty slutty of Adrian, but it’s not like Xavier’s got some kind of moral high ground here for judging him for want to get to the fucking as quickly as possible.

  This was supposed to be about letting Xavier forget, not about Adrian’s pleasure, but he’s so greedy for it, heart slamming in his ribcage as he thrusts himself down onto Xavier’s strong, unrelenting fingers, desperate for them to be replaced with his cock.

  When Xavier does push inside a few minutes later, Adrian lets out a long moan as he lets his body envelope the wonderful perfect hardness, drawing him in deep greedily.

  Xavier hoists one of Adrian’s lets up onto his shoulder as he thrusts in even deeper, so deep Adrian feels like he’s going to be split open. It seems like they both needed this as much as each other, needed a chance to lose themselves in pleasure as a way to stop thinking about everything else.

  Adrian lets out another long urgent moan, unable to stop himself.

  “Fuck me, please, fuck me,” he babb
les, even though Xavier’s already buried inside him.

  Xavier doesn’t tease him for it, just shushes him softly and presses a kiss to the calf hiked onto his shoulder. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he promises, rocking in deep enough that Adrian wails from it. He’s filled up, impaled, pinned so perfectly that his always-racing, always-runaway thoughts white out into static and silence.

  At least we’ve got this, Adrian thinks when his brain comes back online from its temporary crash. Maybe neither of us will ever be happy the way other people are. But at least we’ve got this, here and now.

  17

  XAVIER

  Telling Adrian about his human life was the first time Xavier has spoken about any of that in decades. He’s told Emelie, of course, but until she became a vampire nothing very shocking or devastating had ever happened in her life, so her ability to understand had been different from that possessed by Adrian.

  It wasn’t that she lacked sympathy over what he’d gone through, just that she had no compass by which to navigate the stormy waters of deep human sorrow. It was a place she’d never visited when she was alive, and now could only watch from the shore.

  But Adrian had been in those dark waves too. Different to Xavier’s, maybe, but similar enough that the young man had understood, at least a little.

  This is the lightest Xavier’s felt in a long time, even with the heavy heart he still carries about Lennon’s fate.

  Xavier has a renewed appreciation for what a brave, stubborn person Adrian has turned out to be. He’s built — or begun to build, at the very least — a life out of the wreckage left by what happened to him. That’s more than Xavier was capable of doing after the war. It’s quite incredible.

  If Xavier was looking for a human, which he most certainly isn’t, he would want someone like Adrian.