Eternal Syn

IMMORTAL ASSASSINS

BOOK ONE

MIA MONROE

Copyright © 2023 by Miia Monroe

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover Design by: Wicked By Design

Photography by: CJC Photography

Model: Jered

Editing by: Kate Wood

Proofread by: Charity VanHuss

Content Warnings

This book features a team of vampire assassins who take out really bad people. There are brief discussions of events that happen off page that include:

Physical/domestic abuse

Sexual abuse

Stalking

Death of a parent/ brief mention of parental suicide

On page violence includes vampires being vampires and mafia guys doing mafia things.

The relationship between MCs is low angst and the book has an HEA.

Prologue

Florence, Italy 1503

Walking through the crowded home, I make my way to the veranda for a bit of air. It is an honor to have been invited to the masquerade ball at the Medici palace, one my father’s stature in the community provides, however, the masks are more claustrophobic than I had realized. I find it somewhat disconcerting to be unable to recognize faces upon sight.

The cool air of autumn eases my discomfort immediately. I lift my mask, inhaling the breeze as I lean over the railing, gazing out at the elaborate gardens. It isn’t long before my thoughts drift to the dark place they always go to at events like this. What is the point? Obtaining wealth simply to show it off? Father says power is everything. Perhaps he is right, but with power comes danger. The Medici family would know that more than most.

A figure appears beside me, drawing my attention away from my musings. He is taller than me, which is saying something at my imposing height—an unusual trait for an Italian. His hair is hard to describe, somewhere between blond and brown. Dressed in a pristine outfit in all white, the gold buttons catching the flickering lights around us, he looks like a dream. Piercing gray eyes, so vibrant they seem to glow, peer out at me from behind the white mask that hides his features.

“Hello, good sir,” the man says, an Irish accent obvious. “Lovely evening, is it not?”

“Yes, as lovely as your Latin.”

The man chuckles. “Better than my Italian, I’m afraid.”

“What brings you to Florence?”

“Adventure,” the man replies, gazing out over the garden. “I needed a change of scenery. The art movement here fascinates me.” He returns his gaze to me. “Are you from Florence?”

“Yes. Tell me more about adventure? I know of none.”

“No?” He tilts his head. “Why is that?”

“I am but a prisoner without a cage, kept under control by my father’s good name and my mother’s piety. Have you no parents?”

“Not anymore.” He inhales the air, both of us taking a glass of wine from a passing servant. “I could show you adventure.”

“How?”

He smiles before sipping his wine. His lips are plump and heart shaped, very pink in tone. I’ve never seen lips like his. Something stirs in me. A menacing whisper I have spent many years resisting and burying deep inside me.

“You would have to trust me.”

I scoff. “How could I? I do not even know your name.”

“Yves.”

“A French name for an Irishman?”

Yves chuckles. “Whimsical, no?” He bows slightly. “Pleasure to meet you, fair Alessio.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How do you know my name?”

“Because I have watched you.” He walks behind me, leaning so close I can feel his breath on my neck. “I cannot keep my eyes off you.”

My body stiffens from his proximity. “I…I don’t understand.”

“No? You think only women yearn to be your beloved?”

My stomach flutters. “I…I am not that type of man.”

“No, you are not.” Yves leans on the other side of me. “But is that because of your father’s good name and your mother’s piety?”

I open my mouth to deny him, but no words come.

“Is it because you fear the locals finding out?” He lifts his mask and the sight draws a gasp from me. He is beautiful. Like marble carved by an artist’s gifted hands. “Or are you simply afraid to admit what lies deep within you?”

“How…” I snap my mouth shut. “I do not know of what you speak, sir.”

“But you do, beautiful Alessio. How do I know? I can hear your thoughts when you traipse the piazza. See the way your gaze lingers on the artists’ models and the way yearning pours from you when male beauty is around. I see more than you see yourself.”

I slam my drink down, fumbling with the empty glass as a servant appears with another tray. I take another one, but Yves removes the glass from my hand.

“Come with me, Alessio. Let me show you all that you are missing.”

“I…I am soon to be betrothed. Next month.”

“But not yet.”

“My absence will be noted.”

Very discreetly, Yves’s pinky finger brushes against mine where it rests on the railing. “You are not ready. I will come again.” He leans in, kissing both my cheeks. My eyes close, and when I open them again, he is gone. I search the home, but it is as though he never existed. Did I imagine his presence?

For weeks, I look over my shoulder, constantly seeking the handsome stranger. One night, weeks later, I step out into the garden after dinner for some air. I can no longer stand the pompous discussion of business with my father’s associates. I know I should pay attention. Someday I’ll be expected to take over, but I cannot force myself to care.

Frustration builds within me. My entire future was decided when I was still in my mother’s womb. What my profession would be, who I would marry, where I would live. What I wouldn’t give for the adventure offered by the mysterious Yves.

“I knew you would come around.”

I gasp when he appears behind me. “How did you get into our garden?”

“I have my ways.” He walks slowly around the bench, sitting beside me and pulling my hand into his. I glance nervously at my home. “Caro, Alessio. I am offering you a chance to carve your own destiny. Every day is an adventure of your own making.”

My brow creases. “It’s impossible.”

“It isn’t.” He cups my chin in a strong but gentle hand. “I can give you everything you desire. In exchange, you will give me companionship.”

“Leave my family?”

“Leave all of this. Join me. Travel the world.” His hand moves to my neck, and I swallow hard in anticipation of what he might do next. “I can take care of you, Alessio. Better than your family. Better than any future wife. With me, you can have anything you want.”

“How?”

“I will show you. All you have to do is accept my gift.”

“How do I accept?”

“I will never do to you what was done to me. You must understand that this life you know will be out of your reach. It is for their own good. I will be your family now. Do you understand?”

I look back at my family home thinking of my distant father, my devout mother, the sisters I already miss as they’ve been married off. The pretty but pious daughter of my father’s associate I am to marry. Would I be missed? Could I give them up for an adventure with this man I don’t even know?

“Of course,” Yves says, “you could go back inside. Accept the path already laid out for you. A pretty wife, restrained in her desire, save for children. A spot in your father’s firm. A front row at church every Sunday. Respect from your neighbors.” He smiles. “As long as they never find out your true nature.”

His words sting. I would deny him, but they ring true.

“Would we live in Ireland?”

“No. We will live wherever we choose. I would like to see the world. Wouldn’t you?”

I nod.

“What is your decision, Alessio?”

I lift my eyes to his as my body rages with unknown emotions. I have never felt so drawn to another human. I must know why. “I choose you.”

Yves smiles. “I will come again tomorrow night. Spend the day saying goodbye to your old life.”

“No. I want to do it now. Shall I pack a bag?”

His eyes soften. “Anything you wish to keep. If you are sure, meet me in Piazza della Signoria at midnight. We will go from there.”

I nod. “I will be there.”

“Listen to me. You may not tell your family about me or that you plan to leave. It is best. They will mourn you, but I assure you my way is most kind to them.”

“I believe you.”

Yves leans close and kisses my cheek. “I will see you soon.”

I watch him walk away, seemingly disappearing between the rose bushes. Adrenaline runs through my veins, but I feel no regret for my decision.

I return to the house to find everyone in the same arrangement as when I left. My mother sits in a corner chair near the fire reading her Bible, while the men sit at the table talking of business. No one acknowledges me as I pass.

Perhaps they won’t mourn me after all.

I pace my room for the remaining hour, gazing every so often at the small trunk packed with a few meaningful things — a gold ring worn by my grandfather, in a box since it is too small for my fingers, a handkerchief knitted by my youngest sister when she first learned, a book of poems my tutor gave me, and the bit of money I had stashed away.

When the clock nears midnight, I creep quietly through the house, careful not to make a sound. I hurry through the dark streets, my identity hidden from casual viewers by the cloak surrounding me.

I reach the piazza and spot him near Palazzo Vecchio, dressed in a deep purple cloak and black clothing. He turns in my direction as I approach, a smile spreading across his face. The piazza is empty except for a few drunkards lurking in the shadows. All the respectable citizens of Florence are tucked away in their homes.

“Hello, Alessio.”

“Hello, Yves.”

“You have not changed your mind.”

“I am here, yes?”

“Yes.”

He steps forward, and upon reaching me, slides his hand across my neck to rest behind it. “I am delighted.”

Like the night at the ball, his eyes seem to glow, even in the dim light of the piazza. He opens his mouth, revealing sharp canine teeth I hadn’t noticed before.

“Tonight, I will make you mine in all the ways two men can unite.”

A shiver runs down my back as I realize what I have stepped into. “Are you the devil?”

Yves laughs. “Far from it. I am simply a man seeking companionship and beauty. Do you fear me now?”

I shake my head. “No. I think I should, though.”

“I will not harm you. Only please you. Give me your scarf.”

I untie the cream silk and hand it to him.

“Now, my beautiful prince of Florence, let us begin.”

He lowers his head, and I gasp as sharp teeth pierce my skin. As my life drains away, I watch my bloodied scarf fall to the ground, my initials embroidered on it so that no one will mistake its owner.

“You are safe,” Yves whispers as I fall slack in his arms. “You will always be safe with me.”

My eyes flutter closed as his words offer strange comfort.

What I didn’t know then but would soon learn, was that my life was far from over.

It had only just begun.

Chapter One

SYN (ALESSIO)

Current Day

Ienter the office of my boss and closest friend. “Target DM has been sighted at a bar near Banks and Fifth.”

Yves looks up from the computer. “Perfect. Do you want me to go with you?”

“This is hardly worth your time. I can take Thorn. We’ll be in and out in thirty minutes or less.”

“Good.” Yves smiles. “We’ll get the bonus payment for handling it in less than twenty-four hours.”

“The idiot doesn’t seem to be aware anyone wants him dead.”

“Our good fortune. I’ll look forward to hearing from you when it’s finished.”

I exit his office and walk down the hall to the lounge where the rest of my brothers are hanging around. “Thorn.”

He turns around, grinning. “Yes?”

“Want to help me take someone out?”

He jumps up. “Do I ever say no to that?”

I chuckle. “Not so far.”

The buckles on his combat boots jangle as he approaches me. We’re both dressed in black, as we typically are. It helps us blend in at night, not to mention most of the locals in the urban wasteland known as New Onyx wear black as well.

I grab my trench coat while Thorn shrugs on a leather jacket. Neither of us really need to block the cold, but it’s another tactic we use to blend in. Keeping the mortals blissfully unaware of the vampires right under their noses is half the fun.

The other half is the job. Veil Protection Service is a discreet murder-for-hire firm, sought out by the city’s wealthiest and sometimes deadliest citizens. They don’t know we’re vampires either. All they know is that whoever they need taken out is handled and never heard from again. Not an ounce of evidence remains thanks to magic from our resident witch, Vivienne. They don’t care how we do it, and we have an endless supply of blood for our coven.

We have a few rules. No kids, no women—unless the client can prove they deserve to be taken out—and no one whose absence would cause too much concern. Kill the president? Not so much. The best part is there is always work for us.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Thorn asks, bumping my arm with his as we pass through darkened alleys.

“About this job. Yves is a damn genius, isn’t he?”

Thorn chuckles. “Sure the fuck is. It helps that this city is swarming with criminals.”

“Could you imagine if we weren’t here?”

“It would be bad.”

Yves. My maker, for many years my lover, and now my best friend. I can’t imagine how life would have turned out without his gift.

I nod as we turn onto Fifth Avenue. The journey that would take mortals no less than thirty minutes from our office took us about three. We both fall silent as we creep down the alleyway, our hearing tuned to the bastard who got off on charges of stalking women. Is our client part of the city government or a stalking victim? Only Yves knows. We all decided the details are best left behind the scenes. We do know why they are targeted, which typically helps us build appropriate levels of rage. Murderers, abusers, rapists, pedophiles—all fair game for us. Sadly, a lot of what we do is to take care of what the justice system couldn’t.

Our attention is pulled behind us at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. A man dressed all in black, including a cover over most of his face, advances on us in what he must think is an aggressive manner. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a knife.

“I’m gonna need all your money and jewelry, rich boys,” the man grunts, waving the knife at us.

I raise my eyebrow while Thorn simply chuckles.

“I don’t think so. Run along now before you get hurt.”

The man scoffs at me. “Hand it over.”

“You’re in way over your head with us,” Thorn says, his voice deepening as his fangs descend. “If you want to live, I suggest you leave.”

“You’re threatening me?” The man shifts back and forth on his feet, checking over his shoulder. “I’ll kill you both unless you hand over those watches.”

Glancing at Thorn, I roll my eyes. “Mortals never understand.”

“Shall we teach him a lesson?”

“We absolutely should.”

“Wha—”

Before the offensive man can finish his sentence, his feet are in the air and his back pressed up against the brick wall behind him. Thorn holds him up by his neck. The shock on the would-be thief’s face is comical.

“I warned you.” I smile, taking a moment to roll up my sleeves to deal with the asshole before our real target arrives. “Thorn, would you prepare our guest, please?”

“What the fuck is going on? Put me down!” The man kicks his legs, trying to shove away from Thorn’s vise-like grip.

“You had your chance to run,” Thorn says, tearing the man’s shirt open to expose his neck. He sniffs at the man. “Acceptable.”

I step forward, lifting my hand so the man can see my long nails. His eyes grow wide. “You really should be more careful. Sadly, this is a lesson you will not live to share.”

The man’s mouth drops open. “What is this? What are you?”

“I’m a vampire. Obviously.”

Those are my last words before I sink my teeth into the man’s neck, tearing at his flesh until his blood spills down my throat. Pure exhilaration flows through me. The man’s fear enhances his taste, adding layers to his essence. His screams are music to my ears.

I motion for Thorn to join me, only pulling back briefly. “Please feed, my friend.”

The man claws at my shoulders, but I feel his strength draining as easily as his blood. Thorn bites into his neck on the opposite side, his eyes meeting mine as we feed.

Once the man’s body slumps against us and the river of blood becomes nothing more than a trickle, Thorn releases him, letting his body fall to the ground. I wipe the blood from my chin, gazing at Thorn while he does the same.

After a moment, his eyes meet mine. “I’ll take care of this. Do you want to peek into the restaurant for the target?”

“Yes.”

I walk farther down the alley, keeping an eye out for the man. The call we got earlier from one of our contacts letting us know he was here was only a short time ago. I stop at a bar’s back door when I see the black Lamborghini parked nearby. Perfect.

I lean against the car, nudging it enough to make the alarm go off. The back door of the bar flies open, and the vile little man turns off the alarm with his key fob, focusing on me in the dark.

“Get the fuck off my car,” he growls.

“Darrell Matthews?”

“Fuck off,” he answers. “I already dealt with you assholes last month. The payment’s been made.”

I chuckle. “I’m not here for your car. I’m here for you.”

“What?”

“Fourteen women in three years.” I straighten, taking a step towards him. He’s much shorter than me, which isn’t unusual, but I’d say he’s barely five-five. With a pudgy stomach, balding head, and outdated clothes, he must look ridiculous getting into such a sleek car. We’re told he’s a cyber security expert. “But you were acquitted on a technicality.”

“What’s this about? You need some money? One of those lying bitches trying to blackmail me?”

“Money won’t get you out of this. Not this time.”

I step under the lit bulb of the bar, holding my hand up to reveal my nails and delighting when Darrell gasps from their sharpness. “Did you do it? Did you terrorize those poor women then pay off some jurors?”

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” He pulls a gun from the inside of his jacket. “You need to get the fuck out of here.”

Darrell gasps as Thorn grips his arm from behind.

“I don’t think you answered the question, Darrell. Did you stalk those women?” I ask.

He swallows hard, his eyes shifting left and right, looking for help. “I-I don’t gotta tell you nothing.”

“Well, if you’re a god-fearing man, like most of you pieces of shit tend to be, you might want to say your prayers.”

His mouth drops. “I never hurt no one. I didn’t touch ’em.”

“Do you really think that matters?” I ask as Thorn does the honor of tearing the man’s shirt. “Do you think those women could sleep? Go out at night? Take a shower in peace?”

“I…I…”

“I heard you got into their apartments,” Thorn says. “Hid cameras. You sick fuck.”

Darrell starts shaking. “I couldn’t help it.”

“That’s okay, Darrell,” I say, this time showing my fangs. “We’ll make sure you won’t do it again.”

I lunge at the man, tearing into his neck, grinning at having a second feeding so soon after the first. After only a few seconds, I step back, letting Thorn have his fun as he tears into the man’s belly. Since I ripped out his throat, he can’t scream, so I just watch for a moment before taking his key fob from his shaking hand. We’ll get rid of the car, and he’ll simply go missing.

The back door of the bar swings open, and a man steps outside with two trash bags in his hand. He doesn’t even look in our direction as he turns the other way to put the bags in the dumpster. Thorn looks up sharply, narrowing his eyes. I nod, walking with purpose to the young man, wiping the blood from my chin.

When I reach him, I grab his arm as he walks up the steps again. He turns around, gazing at me with a blank expression, and my jaw drops. He is…beautiful. Big brown eyes stare back at me, full of youth and sensuality. His full lips part as the tip of his tongue darts out to soothe their dryness. I’d look at the rest of him but I can’t tear my eyes away from his face. He drags a hand through wavy dark brown hair that reaches just below his shoulders.

“I didn’t see anything,” he says, his voice soft and sweet, the way I imagine an angel sounds.

“What?”

The man shrugs. “Whatever you’re doing, I didn’t see it.”

“Oh.” I shake my head. “You’re sure?”

“A lot of shit happens back here, man. I just want to do my job, get paid, and go home. Can I go back inside now?”

“What is your name?”

He looks uncomfortable. “I’d rather not tell you. Like I said, you don’t exist to me.”

“I won’t harm you. Please, tell me your name and I will go.” I send a subtle wave of compulsion through him.

“Bowie.”

“Bowie,” I repeat, releasing his arm.

He slips inside without looking back. I find myself still staring at the closed door when Thorn appears beside me.

“You let him go?”

I nod, turning to my friend. “He can be trusted. I felt his intention. He is used to things happening out here.”

“That’s between you and Yves. You ready to go?”

“Yes.” I toss him the key fob. “You can drive.”

As we slide into the car, I stare at the building, desperate for another glimpse of the stunning young man. I have to see him again.

I have to make him mine.

Chapter Two

SYN

Back at home, I take a few minutes to wash up before reporting to Yves. I find him in the same place he was when I left, sitting at his desk staring at his computer screen.

“Yves.”

He looks up, his expression softening. “Done?”

“Yeah. It was easy.” I sit in the magenta leather chair across from Yves’s antique desk. I remember when we ransacked the burning palace in Paris, saving what we could, and hiding things away in an underground bunker we’d created.

Once we decided to settle in the Americas a few decades ago, Yves knew he was ready to put down roots and bring his treasures out of storage. Smiling, I run my hand over the wood as memories gently float past.

“An update though.”

Yves nods.

“There was a witness. I let him go after an interaction. I sensed his compliance.”

Yves’s eyes widen momentarily. “I trust your judgment, but I must say I’m surprised. You are not known for your benevolence.”

Chuckling, I lean back. “Perhaps I was swayed by his incredible beauty and palpable apathy.”

“Apathy?”

“Apparently, he’s used to bad things happening in the alley. He barely reacted to me at all. In fact, he told me I don’t exist to him.”

“Interesting. You say he’s beautiful.”

Knowing I can let my guard down here, I nod, exhaling slowly. “Yves, I have not seen a more beautiful man.”

“I will try not to be offended,” he replies with a smirk.

“That should tell you something.”

“Do you plan to pursue him?”

“No. I don’t fuck mortals anymore. You know this.”

“I know you say that, but maybe you just haven’t had a reason to until now.”

“I don’t exist to him.” The words replay in my mind in his soft, unaffected voice. “But…maybe I’ll pop in a few times, just to make sure he’s committed to not talking.”

Yves laughs at that. “Excellent plan. It wouldn’t hurt you to indulge a little. You don’t have to marry him to have him warm your sheets.”

“I know nothing about him. He could be the straightest man on the planet.”

“How sad for him if that’s true.” He tilts his head. “My bed is always open.”

The offer is sly, delivered with no heat, but I know the underlying meaning. Yves and I are passionate lovers, some might even say tumultuous, but we’ve learned that we make far better friends. Still, desire constantly simmers between us.

“A tempting reminder.”

Yves holds my gaze for a moment before pulling his away. “Marcello would roll in his grave.”

“Marcello was only worthy of you in his death.”

“I wish I had listened to you sooner.”

“No. You would have resented me.”

Marcello. Yves’s untamed lover for nearly a century. He hated me with all his soul, jealous of a thing that had ended hundreds of years before he even met Yves, but he must have sensed the lingering desire between us. His death freed all of us from his envious bonds.

“Maybe. Water under the bridge, as they say.”

“Yeah. Someday you’ll find—”

Yves lifts his hand to stop me. “Don’t say it.” His smile is tight and doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know you mean well, but if it hasn’t happened yet with as long as I’ve been alive …”

“You know what Eros says. We have to believe.”

“Eros is a dreamer. I prefer Thorn’s perspective on life. Live it fully and in the present. Nothing else matters.”

I nod. “You’re right. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will.”

I stand and walk around to his side of the desk, squeezing his shoulder. He puts his hand over mine, lifting his face to smile at me. Rage builds within me. Marcello’s ghost still haunts my friend, leaving him unable to try again.

This life we have and the family we’ve built all exist because of Yves’s need for love and companionship, but the romantic kind continues to elude him. If I could bring Marcello back from the dead, I would, just to kill him again for destroying Yves.

“My friend, it’s not that serious,” Yves says, clearly picking up on my emotions. “He taught me a lesson I needed.”

I nod, choosing to bite my tongue. “I’m gonna go shower. I can still smell the alley on me.”

I leave Yves, marching down the hall to my place to wash away the night’s activities, but I can’t shake the memory of my brief interaction with Bowie. Will I show up in his life again? I doubt I can stop myself.

The next evening, while walking through downtown, my trench coat billowing around me, I get a distinct whiff of something so intriguing that it pulls me in the direction it’s coming from. Almost blindly, I follow it, my nose in the air as I take it all in.

It gets stronger the closer I get, until it’s nearly intoxicating. When I look up to see where my feet have stopped, I’m in front of a bar—the same one I was at last night. Bowie is in there. That has to be the scent.

I push open the creaky wood door that has seen far better days, immediately hit with the stink of stale beer and old wooden furniture, but then it hits me again. A scent as vibrant and pleasing as a summer day in a bed of flowers. Though I wouldn’t actually describe it as floral. No. It’s more like the embodiment of summer.

My eyes adjust to the dim lighting and I glance around the space. A decent number of people fill the seats, but the mood of the place is somber, as if everyone here has nowhere else to go. No one waiting for them. A few men look up at me, narrowing their eyes at the sight. I suppose I stick out in this neighborhood, with my obvious wealth and pedigree—two things I’ve managed to retain over the centuries. Hopefully no one gets any bright ideas to attempt to rob me again.

I step farther inside, drawn by that scent. Then the kitchen doors open, and he walks out, carrying a tray of burgers and fries that smell more like grease than anything else. Bowie. The most beautiful man in existence.

He doesn’t seem to notice me, focused solely on delivering food to the rowdy customers near the pool tables in the back corner. I lean against a wall, watching him offer the faintest of smiles—one I’m sure isn’t authentic—as he places the food down and responds to their drunken inquiries. A woman in the group reaches behind him and pinches his ass, cackling obnoxiously as Bowie flinches. My blood boils but I resist the urge to leap in and defend him.

One of the males in the group shoves several fries in his mouth and waves the empty beer pitcher at Bowie as if he doesn’t deserve the respect of being spoken to properly. My curiosity grows. How did such a gorgeous creature end up in a dive bar on the wrong side of town? Not that looks solve all your problems, but they can certainly help.

As Bowie leaves the group and returns to the bar, I approach, finding an empty stool. His scent hits me hard, like walking smack into a wall.

“What’ll you have?” Bowie asks, looking at me without really seeing me.

There’s a detachment to him, a lingering sadness enveloping him, that even his angelic voice and stunning face can’t push away. He also doesn’t seem to remember me.

“What’s on tap?”

“Domestic,” he answers. “You look like you drink liquor, not beer.”

“Accurate. What do you have?”

“Your basics. I can make a decent gin and tonic.”

“I’ll take it.”

He nods, tucking a lock of his wavy dark hair behind his ear as he begins the task. “What are you doing in here?” he asks. “You lost or something?”

“Or something.”

He puts the drink in front of me, eyes focused on something behind me. I feel more than see the tension seeping through him, so I twist in my chair to see what or who is causing it.

An older man stands near the door, talking to a customer. His boisterous laughter reaches my ears, and when I turn toward Bowie again, he’s busy wiping the counter down, almost frantic in his movement. The man moves through the room, loudly greeting people by name before stopping at the bar, sizing me up with narrowed eyes. Up close, I notice his paunchy stomach, yellowed teeth, thinning hair, and the distinct aroma of stale cigarettes. How charming.

“Bowie,” he yells, even though Bowie is right in front of him.

“Yes, sir?”

Bowie’s nerves are palpable around this man, and I want to know why.

“Table six says you haven’t been around to check on them. That true?”

The younger man freezes, gripping the dirty cloth in his hand. “I can do it now.”

“Is it true?” the older man asks, grabbing Bowie’s wrist and squeezing.

“Uh, yeah, probably. I got a little busy for a while.”

When the other man hears Bowie’s confession, he sneers, leaning close to Bowie. “What have I told you about that shit?” When he twists his hand into Bowie’s hair and tugs his head back slightly, I’ve had enough.

“Get your hands off him.”

The man turns his head to me, scowling while Bowie shakes his head nervously.

“Mind your fucking business or get the hell out of my bar.”

“What is your name?”

The man pulls his head back like he doesn’t understand the question. “What’s it to you?”

“Tell me your name and I’ll kindly mind my fucking business.”

He studies me for a moment, still clutching a scared Bowie, before muttering, “Stan Patrovis.”

“Thank you, Stan.” I stand up, pulling my wallet from my pocket and opening it up. “How much for the drink, Bowie?”

Bowie’s brow crinkles with confusion but he answers me. “Ten dollars.”

“And how much, Stan Patrovis, for you to take your disgusting hands off him?”

“Fuck you, man,” Stan says.

“No, thank you. Answer the question.” I send a slight wave of compulsion through him. Just enough to keep him aware of what’s happening.

“A hundred,” he blurts out.

“Fine.” I put a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. “That’s for you, Stan. Now let go and be nice.”

Stan does it, staring at me in confusion as he steps away from Bowie.

“And this is for you.” I hand another hundred to Bowie. “For your trouble tonight.” I meet Stan’s eyes. “I’ll check and make sure no one takes this from you unfairly.”

“Uh…thanks, man,” Bowie says softly.

“My pleasure. You did such a nice job taking care of everyone here. I can tell the customers really appreciate you.”

Stan nods, obviously taking in the suggestion as planned.

“Good night.” I bow my head and slip outside. Walking to the back of the bar, I scale the wall easily, and wait. Stan will have to come out at some point, and when he does, he’s going to learn a lesson about how to treat people and where to keep his hands.

Hours pass while I watch customers come and go before the back door opens and Bowie steps out, carrying bags of trash just as he was last night. His scent breaks through the stink of the alley, renewing my strange interest in the man.

He doesn’t look like he can be older than his midtwenties, but I could be wrong about that. He tosses the bags in the dumpster and walks up the back stairs, stopping to lean on the railing for a moment. Bowie is taking deep breaths as if steeling himself for something unpleasant, and the action disrupts something inside me.

I’m tempted to jump down again, but that would be strange behavior to a mortal. After another few seconds, Bowie opens the door and steps inside again. I do my best to listen, but I don’t hear anything until the door opens again a few minutes later and Stan steps outside. My target.

Stan, oblivious to my presence, takes a few steps into the alley toward a silver sedan. When he unlocks it with a key fob, I jump down from my spot, landing softly and without so much as disturbing the air, making it easy for me to ambush him from behind.

“Hello, Stan.”

The man swings around, his arm pulled back and hand fisted. “You again,” he says, dropping his arm. “The fuck do you want?”

“So glad you asked.” I step forward, reaching between his legs and squeezing his balls.

He gasps, then winces. I allow my fangs to drop completely, my eyes glowing.

“Listen to me, Stan, and listen well. You will never lay another hand on Bowie. You will not raise your voice or blame him for customer bad behavior. In fact, tomorrow you’re going to give him a raise.”

“I ain’t gonna do shit. You can’t tell me how to run my own business. What, you got a hard-on for Bowie or something?”

“I didn’t think you’d be compliant.” Exhaling, I send a wave of compulsion over him, but not the kind that feels good or dreamy. The kind that feels invasive and uncomfortable.

Stan flinches, trying to move, but since I’ve got his balls in my grip, he can’t go far. “What do you want from me, man?”

“I’ve been clear about what I want. Bowie. Leave him alone. Do not yell, do not blame, and pay him better.”

I feel his resistance, so I twist the balls until he whimpers. “Okay, okay. Fine.”

“Repeat it.”

“I-I…” He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes closed for a second. “I won’t ever touch Bowie again.”

“And?”

“I, um, I won’t yell at him.” He blows out a beer-drenched breath. “And I won’t blame him for customers being shitty.”

“And?”

“I’ll increase his pay.”

“By enough to make a difference.”

“Yes.”

I lean close to Stan, forcing him to look at me. He focuses on my fangs before lifting his horror-filled eyes to mine.

“Let me be extremely clear, Stan Patrovis. If you so much as disrupt a hair on his head, you will see me again, and it will not be pleasant. I’m going to give you a chance to make it right, because Bowie obviously needs this job for some reason.” I allow my eyes to glow bright. “But if you fuck up, mine will be the last face you ever see. Do you understand?”

“Y-y-yes.”

“Good.” I release his balls and straighten his shirt, waving away the compulsion as I leap out of his sight. He won’t remember the interaction, only the lesson.

It takes him a few seconds to orient himself again, but then he slips inside his car and drives off. Only a few minutes pass before the door opens again and Bowie comes out, pausing to lock the door behind him.

He steps down into the alley, looking both ways before sliding his hands into the front pockets of his ratty jeans and walking away from me.

Quietly, I follow from the rooftops, hidden by the darkness around us, keeping pace with him. He passes homeless people, sex workers, and drug dealers, ignoring it all as if he’s completely lost in his own world. Then he turns down one of the worst streets of all, looking around again before climbing the stairs in front of a dilapidated old house. He jerks the door, pushing it inward before disappearing inside.

I jump down from my perch high above and cross the street, lurking in the shadows to peer inside the house. I see him in what used to be the living room leaning against a wall, his arms resting on his bent legs. Even in the darkness, I can see how tired he is. How hopeless.

He jumps as a rat skitters across the wood floor, then relaxes again, falling to his side and curling into a fetal position to sleep.

No. Oh no. This beautiful man doesn’t have a home? He sleeps in an abandoned house without a blanket or even a cushion? This is not acceptable, but what can I do? Bust in and carry him to my home? Somehow, I don’t think he would come willingly.

Bowie flinches again, lifting his head to peer into the darkness, but it was just the sound of the house creaking. He can hardly get the rest he needs in conditions like this. What led him to this? Where are his family or friends?

I plant myself on the front steps. Pulling out my phone, I send a

message to our group chat.

ME: Camping out tonight.

YVES: Where?

ME: Fifth and James. I have something of interest I need to watch overnight.

THORN: Sounds like a piece of ass to me.

My eyes narrow, but I refuse to be goaded by him over an unsure situation. Perhaps Bowie will become a fling, but somehow I don’t think so. Something is drawing me to him, and I plan to find out what.

ME: Fuck off, Thorn.

THORN: You say that, but you love me.

YVES: Do you need support?

ME: Nope. All good.

YVES: Okay. Midnight and Eros are taking care of a target in the area if you sense them.

ME: Thanks for the heads-up. Night.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I glance over my shoulder at the house. At least nobody will bother him tonight.

They’d have to get through me first.

Chapter Three

BOWIE

Light filters through the dirty windows of the house I’m squatting in, slowly waking me up. My body aches from sleeping on hard wood floors all night, but once I get moving, I should be okay.

Pulling myself up, I glance around the space, trying to remember what it used to be like so many years ago. Not many people could live here after what happened, but I’m just weird enough to find comfort in the memories.

Someday, I’ll have enough money to buy it back from the city and fix it up again. Make my mama proud. I reach into my front pocket, brushing my fingers over the tips I made last night, including the crisp hundred-dollar bill from the strange man who came to my rescue.

Thank fuck for that guy though. Stan was in one of his moods, and anything I said could have pushed him into another one of his tantrums. I’ve done good the past few months, just agreeing to shit to avoid his fists. Shaking my head, I drag a hand through my tangled hair. If my mama could see how her own brother treats me, she’d roll in her grave.

Stan is fucked up though. He has been ever since shit went down. He’s an asshole, but at least he’s given me a job. A shitty one, but with my history, it’s better than nothing.

My stomach growls loudly, urging me to my feet to go out and find breakfast. With the extra money I got last night, I think I’ll actually go to a proper restaurant and eat a meal big enough to last the day. At least until dinner, when I’ll get my free cheeseburger at work.

I walk to the bathroom, wiping dust off the mirror with my hand. There’s no electricity or water in the house but at least I can check that I look okay. Later, I’ll go see Stan’s wife Nelly for a quick washup and a load of laundry. I don’t know what I’d do without Nelly.

After peering through the front window to make sure no cops are cruising by, I slip out the front door again. I never worry about other squatters breaking in. The house is too notorious even among the poor and drug addicted, but a cop could make me leave.

I head down the steps, sliding my hands into my pockets, and bracing against the chill in the air. It’ll be summer soon, but it’s still pretty cold in the mornings. Sometimes I think about leaving New Onyx, starting over somewhere people don’t know me or my family, but I can’t seem to make it happen. It feels like leaving my mama, even though she’s not physically here anymore.

I walk several blocks, my body warming up from the exercise, until I reach my favorite place: Santos, a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant with the best breakfast tacos. Everyone tells Santos he should move into the ritzy area downtown where he could get a lot more business, but he refuses. I’m kind of glad.

The bell over the door jingles as I step inside, and Juanita waves at me from behind the chipped linoleum counter. “Mijo! It’s been so long since you’ve come in.”

“Hi, Juanita. Yeah. Made some good cash last night. Figured I’d treat myself.”

Juanita frowns. “What have I told you about that, mijo? We will always feed you. You don’t need to go hungry.”

“I know.” I slide onto one of the bar stools. Juanita and Santos treat me like their own kid sometimes. I know they will always give me food if I need it, but I can’t take advantage like that. “I’m doing alright though.”

She nods with a smile. “Coffee and breakfast tacos, extra salsa?”

I chuckle. “You know me well.”

She disappears into the back to make breakfast while I glance around the space. It’s filled with other working people like me and a few homeless folks sipping coffee in a warm place for the morning.

The door opens, drawing my eyes in that direction, and there he is again. The man from last night. He steps inside and sits down at a table near the window. After a moment, he pulls his phone from his pocket, clearly texting someone.

Why would a guy who looks like that be hanging out in this neighborhood? Is he lost? I don’t know a lot about designers and stuff, but I know quality when I see it, and he’s covered in it. Not to mention he dropped two hundred dollars last night in a dive bar without even flinching.

The door opens again a minute later and another man dressed in a black leather jacket, black jeans, and combat boots enters. He looks around for a second, spots the other guy, and joins him. They speak quietly, expressions tense, and an unsettling feeling washes over me. Bad guys. Of course. Probably the mob. It’s no secret New Onyx is full of organized crime groups.

My mama would shit if she knew I took blood money, but she never expected I’d be in this situation either. A guy’s gotta eat.

I turn my attention away, focusing on the coffee Juanita puts in front of me before she approaches their table. The first man smiles warmly at her, speaking softly, while the other guy’s smile is big and wild.

Juanita returns to the counter, pouring two cups of coffee. My curiosity is too strong to ignore their presence, so I take a chance and ask, “Do you know what those guys are doing here?”

“Having coffee, mijo. They come once or twice a month.”

“Oh. They’ve been here before?”

“Yes. Very nice. Polite. Tip well.”

“Do you think…” I lean in close to whisper, “Are they mob guys?”

Juanita shrugs. “No business of mine. They don’t cause trouble, so their money is good here.”

“Fair.”

She delivers coffee and when I turn to watch her, I find the man from last night already gazing at me. He nods politely. I offer a slight wave.

When Juanita returns, she pops in back and comes back quickly with my tacos. The aroma of refried beans, melted cheese, scrambled eggs, and chorizo makes my mouth water. I douse the first one in homemade salsa and dig in.

While I eat, Juanita refills my coffee, chats with the other customers, and checks in on the two mysterious men. Once I finish my second taco, patting my very full belly and dreaming of a soft bed where I could nap until I have to go to work, I feel a presence beside me. I turn to see my mystery man.

“Hello, Bowie,” he says.

“Uh, hi.”

“We sort of met last night.”

“I remember. You stuck up for me with Stan.”

His jaw twitches. “Yes. Is he always that rough with you?”

I half shrug. “He’s got some problems. Drinking and stuff. Some family tragedy shit. He’s my uncle.”

The man’s brow furrows. “Your uncle?”

“I know. It seems fucked up, but…” I swallow the humiliation down. “It’s a job.”

“I see. I assume he allowed you to keep your tip?”

“Uh, yeah. He didn’t talk to me the rest of the night. Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“He always has something to say, but he didn’t talk about you or the tip again.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, so um, thanks. The money will come in handy.”

He studies me, searching my eyes like he has questions he doesn’t ask. “My name is Syn.”

“Sin? Like, ‘the wages of sin is death?’”

“If you must, but it’s spelled with a Y.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you Syn.”

His lips reflect the slightest hint of a smile. “You too, Bowie.”

“Uh, so can I ask what you’re doing in a shitty neighborhood like this?”

“The area has its charms.”

“If you say so.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here, and I know you don’t.”

Syn chuckles. “I don’t. I just have some business in the area from time to time.”

Yeah. Definitely a criminal.

He tilts his head, still searching my eyes with his intense blue ones.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. See you around, Bowie.”

“Okay.”

He walks away, returning to the other man, who was watching our interaction. Syn’s attention feels…weird. Almost overbearing, but also oddly nice. Maybe because very few people pay attention to me, except in ways I wish they wouldn’t.

The two men finish their coffee and leave before I do, and I wish I could follow them just to see what they’re doing, but that’s fucking weird, so I finish my coffee and fantasize about the day my life changes. It’s going to. I know it will.

I fucking deserve it.

Chapter Four

SYN

“Gotta hand it to you, Syn,” Thorn says. “You weren’t exaggerating. He’s gorgeous.”

I nod, glancing over my shoulder at the restaurant as we walk away. “He is. Far too pretty and delicate to be living such a rough life, but what can I do? Kidnap him?”

Thorn shrugs. “Why not?”

“Except for the obvious consent issues, I doubt he would enjoy imprisonment even if it was a vast improvement on his current situation.”

“That’s your problem, man. You’re too proper when we live in a wasteland of misery.”

I roll my eyes. “We should hardly complain about our lives.”

“Not our lives. That’s my point. You could give him more than he’s even imagined. Wouldn’t you like something pretty to warm your bed for once?”

His question tugs at a forgotten part of me. “Perhaps, but not by force.”

“Suit yourself, Master of Emotions.”

I nudge him with my elbow as we laugh. “Thanks for coming with me. I thought it would be a little too strange for me to be lurking alone.”

“Anytime.”

We walk down the dingy sidewalk, dropping money in buckets as we pass and doing our best to block out the terribly harsh smells of the city. For a vampire, every scent is heightened, making it difficult to ignore the perfume of urine, garbage, and body odor that permeates this part of New Onyx.

“It’s weird seeing it in the daytime, isn’t it?” Thorn asks. “Sadder.”

“Yes. Tragedy hides in the dark, but the sun exposes it.”

“It’s fucked up.”

“And the prettiest flower I’ve ever seen blooms within it.”

Thorn glances at me. “I love when you get all Renaissance artist on me.”

I chuckle, saying nothing in reply.

“Build him a garden, Syn. His very own where he takes center stage. Then you won’t have to abduct him. He’ll come willingly.”

“Maybe. Though elaborate seduction is what Eros does. Not me. I fuck up against a wall and walk away. Somehow that doesn’t seem good enough for Bowie.”

“Hmm. Maybe Yves is rubbing off on you finally.”

“Let’s not go that far. I don’t fall in love ten times a week.”

Thorn laughs. “Sweet man. So much love to give.”

I nod, recalling a flash of our decade together before I realized I could never be what he truly needed. “His heart is big. It’s sad to watch him hold back so much now.”

“Yeah. At least he brought us all together.”

“I agree. How different our lives would have turned out without Yves.”

Thorn shudders, shaking his shoulder. “Ugh. Don’t even want to think about it.” We walk on in silence for a few moments. “Do you think it feels good to fall in love?”

“No idea. Yves and Eros seem to like it.”

“It seems so repressive to me. Like, why choose one person when there are billions out there?”

Chuckling, I reply, “Exactly. Although to hear Eros tell it, some people make you want to give it all up for them.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it. Look what happened to Midnight.”

I scrunch my face. “Yeah. That wasn’t good. Revealing yourself to a mortal comes with many risks.”

“For real.”

We arrive at a corner where the bad side of town ends, marked by an abandoned parking lot. I look back over my shoulder in a useless attempt to spot Bowie again, before we use our super speed walking to get home again.

A few hours later, while I’m lounging in my favorite reading chair, my phone buzzes with a text.

YVES: Can you pick up a job tonight? Thorn and Eros are already out. Midnight and Raphael are on their way to one. This should be a quick one.

ME: Of course. Where and what?

YVES: Instructions incoming.

The next text has a name and location. I nod as I read it. We’ve talked about this target for a few weeks now. He stole a great deal of money and jewelry from his boss and was given the opportunity to return it with amnesty, but decided to hide out instead.

Word has it he’s in a dive hotel on the outskirts of town as you head toward Boston. Perfect. No one blinks an eye over there.

ME: Taking someone out for theft?

YVES: New development. He assaulted the client’s daughter and son two nights ago by crashing his car into theirs. Daughter had surgery, son broke his legs. Client says this was the last straw.

ME: Oh fuck. Yeah, that’s not cool.

YVES: No. Leave the body. Make it look legit. Client has a solid alibi until midnight.

ME: Got it.

I was expecting this. Normally, we stay out of knowing who the client is, but in this case, it’s unavoidable. The boss in question is a very prominent businessman, known coast to coast and probably abroad at this point. Allegedly, he’s a commercial real estate developer, but it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s got some darker dealings going on. Thing is, he’s got to avoid any connection to trouble since he’s been seen with some of New Onyx’s high-profile criminals in the past. It’s the perfect job for us.

A glance at my watch shows I have about two hours to get this done before midnight. I head to my bedroom to change into my work clothes. Always the same—black pants, black t-shirt, trench coat, and boots. I like to blend in with the darkness, seeming like nothing more than a shadow to onlookers. I keep my long black hair down instead of knotting it up like I often do.

By the time I arrive at the hotel, I’m primed for action. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to tear this one apart and get out some of my pent-up energy. Maybe someone else will fuck around tonight and I’ll have the chance to sink my teeth into something worthwhile.

My bloodlust isn’t as bad as Thorn’s, but it’s a strong second. A few kills a week is enough to keep my beast contained, but the more delicate jobs like this one leave me wanting.

Heading into the alley, I check my surroundings before scaling the building and peeking in windows. I know what the man looks like, and find him easily on the fifth floor. His window is partially open, letting the skunky scent of the weed he’s smoking drift through it. He’s resting on the bed, his legs crossed at the ankle and one arm behind his head on the pillow as he watches porn.

I slide the window open and step inside the dark room. He’s so stoned he’s not even aware of me yet. Even better for the autopsy report. Too bad Thorn didn’t get this job. He loves when the blood is tinged with drugs. Me, not so much.

“Jimmy Baca?”

Jimmy looks up sharply, his glazed eyes trying to focus on me, and when he does, he scrambles off the bed, making a run for the door. “Shit.”

Chuckling, I cross the room in the blink of an eye, grab the back of his shirt, and throw him back on the bed. “You’ve done some bad shit, Jimmy.” I take the burning joint still between his fingers and set it down on a makeshift ashtray made of a soda lid from a restaurant. “They gave you a chance to make it right, and what did you do? Hit his kids with your car?”

“Fuck you,” he slurs. “His son was gonna shoot me.”

I lift an eyebrow. “The son of a prominent businessman was going to shoot you in public? Try again, Jimmy.”

He sways a second, his shifty eyes darting around the room. “I couldn’t let him find out about Charissa.”

“Who is Charissa?”

“The daughter, man.” Jimmy scratches his fingers through greasy hair. “She told me she was pregnant, man. Boss would’ve killed me for that. I had to get away. He doesn’t need this shit like I do.”

“So you tried to kill a pregnant woman with your car? Bad move.” I lean in. “And running away from your responsibilities is a stupid idea. You know he’d find you.”

Jimmy shifts panicked eyes around the room, looking for an escape, but frozen by fear at the same time. Even if I were mortal, it would hardly be a fair fight. I must be twice his size. He couldn’t take me if he tried.

“Now, Jimmy, just relax and it won’t hurt.”

“Wha-what are you gonna do to me?”

“Your antics nearly killed his kids. You already know the answer to your question, don’t you?” The heavy scent of his fear, mixed with the weed still in the air, draws my beast to the surface. I exhale with relief as my fangs extend and my nails grow. It feels like the best orgasm when I don’t have to hold back anymore.

“What the fuck, man,” Jimmy whispers, scooting back on the bed.

“Give me a reason not to kill you. Why did you steal from your boss?”

Jimmy’s face is a mask of fear but something smug settles over his expression. “’Cause he’s a rich prick and he’s stupid. His daughter is a spoiled bitch, and I can’t stand that family. I stole it ’cause I could. I fucked his daughter because I knew he’d hate it.”

“Unfortunately, those aren’t good reasons.” I grab his wrist, and using my rather long thumb nail, I slash deeply.

Jimmy gasps, staring in shock at his gushing wrist. I take care of the other one just as easily.

“See? It doesn’t even hurt if you don’t resist.”

He stares at his wrists, unmoving, his face showing disbelief at what’s happening as blood spills onto his lap. “The fuck, man?”

“My apologies, Jimmy. It’s nothing personal. At least not on my end.”

I walk to the bathroom, looking through drawers filthy with the grime of previous guests until I find exactly what I’d hoped for. A rusty blade stuck down with dried shaving cream. Perfect.

I carry it back to the bedroom, run it through a bit of the blood on his wrist, and then lay it next to him. He’s already lost so much blood, he’s just lying back, eyes heavy.

“Where is the money, Jimmy?”

“Under the bed,” he whispers.

Bending down, I find the ratty gym bag and pull it out. Inside are stacks of cash and a pouch of diamonds. I imagine he’s spent or sold some of what he stole.

“Can you do something for me?” Jimmy asks.

“What’s that?”

“Tell the boss he’s a piece of shit and his daughter sucks in bed.”

“I’ll pass it along.”

“One more thing. Tell him he didn’t win. He thinks he did, but you just did me a favor. I’d rather go to hell than work another day for that dick.”

I bow my head slightly. “Goodbye, Jimmy.”

“Fuck—” He tries to whisper more words, but ends up coughing as his eyes flutter closed.

I slip out the same way I came in, jumping down to the darkened alley below me. I could scale the buildings and get home a lot quicker, but I have a stop to make.

I have to see Bowie again.

Chapter Five

BOWIE

The door opens as I’m wiping down the bar. I was hoping no one else would come in after the rush we had about an hour ago, but no such luck. My mood shifts when I see who it is though.

Syn.

He walks toward the bar with purpose, his booted footsteps heavy on the old wood floors, and long hair flowing behind him like he’s some kind of dark superhero.

“Hello, Bowie,” he says. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something about his tone that feels friendly and warm.

“Hey, Syn. What can I get you?”

His eyes roam over my face for a few seconds, making me squirm under his attention. “The drink you made last time.”

“Gin and Tonic. Got it.”

As I pour his drink, he turns his intense gaze around the bar. “Is Stan here?”

“No, thank fuck. He had to do something for Nelly. His wife.”

“He’s married.” It’s a statement.

“Yeah. No idea how Nelly deals with him. She’s really nice.” I put a lime on the side of the glass and slide it in front of him. “She does a lot for me.”

“Like?” Syn asks, lifting the glass and taking a sip.

I cringe, wishing I hadn’t said anything. I don’t need this stranger knowing my business.

“Uh, just in general, you know.”

Syn nods, but something in his eyes tells me he knows I’m hiding something.

“Did you have business here again?” I ask.

“Not far from here.”

“What do you do?”

Syn only smirks as he sets his glass down. “Private investigations.”

I nod. Yeah, it checks that he would be in a shitty neighborhood. “Must be interesting work.”

“Most definitely. What time do you get off?”

“Uh, I’m closing tonight so, like, another hour, I guess. It’s slow now so I can do all my closing duties ahead of time.”

“I’ll wait then.”

I pull my head back slightly. “Why would you wait for me to get off?”

“I’ll walk you home.”

His delivery is so matter-of-fact, it confuses me. Why would I let some dude I don’t really know walk me home?

“Are you investigating me?”

He raises an eyebrow. “No. Why would I be?”

“I don’t know. Why do you want to walk me home?”

“It’s not a safe area.”

“Appreciate your concern, man, but I’m used to it. Everyone around here knows me. I’ll be fine.”

Something flashes across his face that sends a shiver through me. It’s gone before I can analyze it too much, but it was definitely there.

“Very well, Bowie,” Syn says, reaching into his pocket and putting another hundred-dollar bill on the counter. “See you around.”

“I, um, I can’t take that again. It’s too much money,” I whisper.

“You have something against money?”

I chuckle. “No, but I’m not sure why you give me so much.”

“When something good happens, Bowie, you should just accept it. Maybe I feel you deserve it. You work hard. Why not?”

“And, um, you don’t want anything from me in return?”

“You’ve already provided a service. What else could I ask for?”

Apparently, he’s not aware of the slimy dudes who hang out here and hit on me all night, offering me money to get special treatment. They paw at me, grab my body, talk to me like I’m their property. It’s annoying, but I need their money. Then Syn just throws money at me but doesn’t want a thing. Weird.

He slams his drink down before standing. “Stay safe, Bowie.”

“I will. Um, thanks for the tip.”

He slightly bows his head at me before disappearing into the night again. I’m more than a little confused after our interaction, but maybe I should just accept something good happening for a change, like he said.

An hour and a half later, I sneak into the house again, my belly full from the burrito I grabbed from a dude on the corner, ready to go to sleep. My body is sore from the long nights and hard floors I sleep on, but at least I have shelter.

I didn’t tell Syn the whole truth. I’m only safe-ish tucking myself away inside this house. Sleeping in the park or on the street is a good way to get assaulted. Fuck knows I’ve been there, done that.

I move to the corner of the room I often sleep in, back safely against a wall and facing a window so no surprise attacks occur. Sometimes, like tonight, the weight of my difficult existence gets to me. It’s been twelve years of struggling, of barely making it, and I’m fucking tired.

A tear slides down my cheek and I angrily brush it away. Crying won’t solve shit. Memories of my mama float through my mind—her pretty smile and how she always cuddled me. Even Dad was cool until he got mixed up in bad business. Sometimes the pain of missing them hurts so much I feel numb.

Someday, I’ll find a way out of this shithole and make something of myself. I’ll make my mama proud if it’s the last thing I do.

Just as I settle down for another long night, scraping on the roof gets my attention. I sit up, listening closely, but it’s gone. Must have been an animal. I close my eyes, silently praying to nothing for a peaceful night’s sleep. Surely, I’ve at least earned that by now.

The next night, I try to keep a low profile. Stan is in a fucking mood, stomping through the place slamming drawers and cussing under his breath. It’s times like this he’s likely to go off the handle and I’ll end up with a black eye. Better me than Nelly though.

A customer at the bar, a guy named Steve who comes in two or three times a week, does the totally wrong thing and calls Stan out.

“Who pissed in your beer today, man?” Steve says.

Stan swings around to face the bar, the scowl on his face deepening. “Mind your fucking business, Steve.”

“Maybe you should mind yours,” Steve claps back. “Your bullshit is bad for business.”

Stan stomps over, lifts Steve’s beer glass and slams it on the heavy wood bar, shattering it and splashing beer on Steve. The customer jumps up, narrowing his eyes.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind, man.”

“Get the fuck out of my bar,” Stan growls.

“Gladly.”

Steve glances at me with an apologetic look before lifting his middle finger at Stan and walking out. The rest of the customers stare at the scene, and a couple of them get up to leave as well. Stan ignores it all, throwing a rag at me.

“Clean up that mess.”

I grit my teeth, on the verge of telling him to clean it up himself, but I bite back the words, knowing it’s not worth it.

He finally seems to find the paper he was looking for, pulling it from under the shelf by the register and muttering to himself as he heads back to his office. Once he’s gone, my racing heart settles a bit. I really don’t know how much more of this I can take.

Not even twenty minutes later, the front door opens and three very intimidating men step inside, glancing around the dark space. I try to look busy, rinsing a few glasses and hoping like hell they have the wrong place and will leave.

No such luck though, as they approach the bar. One guy—tall, bald, and covered in tattoos from his scalp down as far as I can tell—steps forward.

“Looking for Stan Patrovis.”

“Uh, he’s in the back. I’ll go get him.”

The man nods, staring at me with hard eyes. I hurry into the kitchen and to the back where Stan’s tiny office is. I find him snorting a substance and then leaning back in his chair, his forehead sweaty and his face blotchy.

“Stan.”

“Go away,” he growls without looking up at me.

“Some men are here to see you.”

That gets his attention as he bolts upright. “What men?”

“Didn’t get a name. They look like bad dudes.”

“Fuck.” He looks panicked as his eyes shift around his office. “Tell them I’ll be right up.”

“Okay.”

I step out of his office, but linger just long enough to see Stan pull a small gun out of his desk and shove it in the waistband of his pants. A gun? Fucking great.

I hurry back to the front, braced for some shit to go down. The three men sit at the bar now, looking bored.

“Stan is on his way up,” I say.

The bald man nods at me.

“Can I get you guys something to drink?”

“No,” the man answers while the other two keep their eyes on the front door.

Stan appears a minute later, nervous and sweating. “Can I help you?” he asks.

The bald man looks up and nods. “We need to have a little chat, Stan. I think we’d both prefer it if it was in a private place.”

Stan nods as his face turns even paler than usual. “I have an office. Follow me.”

The three men stand, the bald one nodding at me as they walk off. I have no idea what’s going on, but I know for sure it isn’t good. It’s gotta be one of Stan’s fucked-up business ventures again. My blood boils as the realization hits me. He didn’t learn shit from his past mistakes. Damn him.

Fifteen minutes later, the men leave without saying a word. I don’t want to check on Stan, but the curiosity is too much. I find him in his office, holding a paper towel to his face.

“Stan?”

“Go away,” he says, not looking up.

“Do you need help?”

“I said go away, Bowie.”

“Fine.” I’m about to leave, but his voice stops me.

“Wait.”

When I turn around again, he lowers the paper towel. He has a busted lip and an eye quickly swelling, rimmed with red-and-purple bruising.

“I can’t go home like this. If Nelly asks, I’m working late.”

“Where are you gonna go?”

“Don’t fucking worry about it.”

I bristle, crossing my arms over my chest. “You know what, Stan? You can treat me like shit, that’s fine, but Nelly deserves better.”

He lunges from his desk and is around it so fast, I can barely process it. His hand wraps around the collar of my shirt, his stale breath on my face.

“Don’t talk about my wife. You mind your fucking business.”

Glaring, I pull my shirt from his grasp. “Fine. Ruin your life again. I don’t give a fuck.”

I turn to leave and Stan slaps the back of my head. I don’t even bother to react. That’s what he wants.

Stan leaves thirty minutes later. Where he’s going, no one knows but him. Now Nelly has to worry about him. She’s not stupid enough to think he’ll work at the bar all night. Knowing him, he’s probably cheating on the only woman who could put up with him for more than one night. Fucking loser.

After I close up the bar, I walk back to the old house, my thoughts heavy. I have to get out of this life before Stan does something that gets all of us hurt. Again. I need an escape plan.

And I need it now.

Chapter Six

SYN

Sitting on top of the house Bowie sleeps in has become a regular part of my night. For some reason, I can’t stay away from him. He’s obviously capable of caring for himself, but tell that to my protective urges.

It’s been a week since I met him. Seven nights of creeping on the man to ensure he’s safe. I don’t even have a reason to assume he’s not, other than the shitty neighborhood and shady boss slash uncle.

But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit my interest runs far deeper than his safety. He’s beautiful in a way most people aren’t. As if it comes from some otherworldly source. I want to card my fingers through his silky hair, feel the softness of his skin on my fingertips, taste his Cupid’s bow lips. I want to see what he looks like splayed out on my bed beneath me, whimpering my name as I take him apart piece by piece. I want to fucking own him.

I lie back on the roof, gazing up at the moon pushing its way through the clouds. The air smells like impending snow, but it’s too late in the season for that. Typically anyway. Bowie must be cold sleeping in that abandoned house. I wish I knew what led him to these circumstances. He is far too beautiful to live this way. Thorn’s suggestion to kidnap him is starting to sound reasonable.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see Midnight’s name on the screen.

MIDNIGHT: Hey. Can you meet me at Mayes and Tenth? My target showed up with an entourage.

ME: Sure thing.

I don’t want to leave Bowie, but my brothers come first. I’d never leave one hanging. Jumping down from the roof, I land softly, then take off through the overgrown yard in back, darting between old houses and apartment buildings, moving too quickly for mortal eyes to detect, until I arrive at the destination.

I find Midnight lurking in an alley beside a notorious drug house. He gives me a nod when he sees me.

“Hey,” he says. “He was supposed to be alone but maybe someone tipped him off. There must be ten heavily armed dudes in there.”

“Got it. What’s your plan?”

“I was thinking you bust in as a distraction. Then while they all focus on you, I’ll swoop in and take out the target.”

“I can do that.”

Loud rock music blares from the house seconds later, then a black car pulls up in front and two more men and a bunch of women get out and head into the house.

“Shit,” Midnight says. “More witnesses.”

“What are the other guys up to?”

“Everyone is working except Yves.”

“Let’s call him in.”

“I hate doing that, but you’re right. This is not the setup we planned on.”

Midnight steps away as he dials Yves and they have a talk. I pace the alley, listening closely to what’s happening inside the house. They obviously put the music on as a diversion, but that won’t stop a vampire.

The target is talking to a man about a drop-off and a rat. Maybe that’s the reason he has so many people with him. I happen to know from our briefing with Yves that this dude is bad news. He preys on children in disadvantaged areas, and when he’s got them hooked and they can’t pay, he traffics them. There are two things my coven and I won’t stand for: abusing women and kids, and hurting animals.

Midnight returns to my side, nudging my arm with his. “Yves is on his way.”

“Nice. I was listening in. They’re talking about a shipment and concerns that they have a rat in their organization.”

Midnight chuckles, dragging his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “They wish it was a rat. They made an enemy of the wrong guy.”

“Sure did. Sometimes blackmail backfires.”

“Exactly.”

As usual, we don’t know who the client is, but we do know that our target has some incriminating information on the client. Too bad for the target that the client is more ruthless than he is.

Yves appears minutes later, dressed in all black, his golden brown hair striking against all the darkness.

“I’ll go in with Syn,” Yves says. “You focus on the target.”

Midnight nods, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s kill some bad guys.”

Midnight scales the house so he can jump through the back window easily while Yves and I head straight to the front door.

“It’s been a minute since we fought together,” Yves says, smiling.

“Good to be by your side again.”

With a wink, he kicks the door open, surprising the men surrounded by women. Immediately, they stand, drawing their guns, but Yves and I are fast, slamming through them with ease.

I bend down in front of a woman cowering on the floor. “Get the other women and run.”

“You’re not gonna kill us?”

“No, but you didn’t see shit here tonight.”

She nods, grabbing her jacket and motioning for the other women. As they run from the house, a gun is fired and the bullet hits my shoulder.

I growl, swinging around on the man who just shot me. With wide eyes, he watches me close in on him, too shocked to try to run. I grab him by his collar, and with my fangs on full display, I rip his throat out, swallowing a few gulps of blood before tossing his corpse to the floor.

When I turn around, Yves has one of the men pressed against a wall, draining him. Another man lies on the floor, desperately scrambling to pull his gun, but I’m on him in seconds, sinking my teeth into his neck.

The men are no match for the two of us, in spite of their punches, kicks, and even weapons. We tear through the men until none are left alive. Yves and I take off to the back room to check on Midnight.

We find him sitting on the desk, surrounded by three dead bodies, the target included. He’s covered in blood and drinking from the target’s wrist. His glowing blue eyes shift to us when he sees us, and the rage settles. He drops the wrist and smiles, bloody fangs on display.

“Finished?” he asks.

“All done up front,” Yves answers. “Do you have the supplies?”

Midnight points his foot to the gym bag on the floor. “Yep. But first…”

Sliding off the desk, he walks to the filing cabinet against the far wall. He opens it, flicking through files until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Bingo. Got a confession before I ripped his throat out.” He hands it to Yves. “The client’s photos.”

Yves opens the folder, and I get a glimpse of our client tangled in bed with three men. That’s not the shocking part though. The man is the CEO of the biggest bank in the US. He’s known for his so-called conservative values and family focus. If this got out, he would have been ruined, without a doubt.

“Did he do drugs?” I ask.

Yves shakes his head. “No. He got tangled up with the target at a party in Vegas. Target just saw an opportunity. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t work out.”

“It never does.”

Yves nods and we walk out of the house while Midnight covers our tracks. This house is going up in flames. It’s actually a positive to this neighborhood that the notorious drug house is no more.

As the flames grow, we watch for a few minutes, knowing the police won’t be on their way anytime soon. Midnight grins at his work. His violent side borders on unhinged, but that’s what makes him so good at what he does.

“Time to go,” Yves says as a few people start looking out their windows at the fire.

The three of us slip into the night, never to be associated with the events. The police won’t investigate anyway. We just helped them out, taking a piece of shit off the streets for good.

Damn, I love my job.

We arrive back at our residence, a sleek high-rise building where the coven and I occupy two floors of individual units, with another floor for entertaining space. Yves refers to it as the House of Orpheus.

A quick elevator ride drops us at the twentieth floor, leading into the common area—a marble-covered foyer with doors on both sides leading to individual units.

“After that, I feel like burning off some steam at Lair,” Midnight says. “You coming, Syn?”

“Nah. I’m not into it tonight.”

The Lair is our vampire lounge, a place where we can come together and be ourselves without fear of mortals finding out we exist among them.

“You going back to spy on your new obsession?” Midnight teases.

Yves looks away but I notice the smirk on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, so I’m kind of interested in a mortal. He lives in a shitty neighborhood. I just want to make sure he’s safe.”

“I told you to kidnap him,” Thorn says, entering the room and handing me a glass of wine. “It’d be a lot easier.”

“I don’t want to kidnap him,” I reply, peeling my trench off.

“Whatev,” Thorn says. “I’ll go with you, Midnight. I could use some ass tonight.”

“Sweet.”

The two vampires retreat down the hall and outside. Yves lingers, leaning against the door that leads into his home.

“Do you need to talk, Syn?”

“No.” I force a smile to my lips. “I’m good.”

The door to Yves’s apartment opens and Vivienne steps out, smiling when she sees us. She’s a vibrant redhead, fully aware of what we are, and a powerful witch. She helps us with some of our needs, and in return she gets regular blood deposits she uses for spells.

“What are you doing here so late?” Yves asks.

“I couldn’t sleep so I came over to finish your home office setup.” She pats his shoulder. “My guy, you need an assistant.”

Yves rolls his eyes. “Are we on that again?”

“Yes. Your system is out of date and I don’t have the time or knowledge to update it. You have a huge backlog of client files. You need someone who can manage this for you.”

“She’s right, Yves.”

He looks at me with a frown. “You know how I feel about mortals in our business affairs.”

“I know someone who would be perfect,” Vivienne says. “She’s attended a few of my spell-casting classes. She’s smart and sweet, but tough enough. At least meet her.”

Surprisingly, Yves gives Viv a curt nod. “Fine. I will meet her.”

Vivienne smiles, tossing her red waves over her shoulder. “Sweet. I’ll arrange it. Night, vamps.”

“Goodnight,” we both say, watching her slip into the elevators.

“Do you truly think I need this help?” Yves asks.

“Yeah, I do. Our business is only growing the more aware of our services people become. You yourself have talked about expanding outside of New Onyx. You don’t need to be the guy answering phones and taking payments. If we get someone in here we can trust, that frees you up. Just imagine what you can do with the extra time.”

He blows out a slow breath. “You make valid points. I will entertain this idea.”

“Good. You know Viv has our backs. She wouldn’t bring someone here who couldn’t handle it.”

“Yes, you’re right.” He offers a slight smile. “I can always count on your rational mind.”

“I do my best. It’s my rational side that keeps me from following Thorn’s kidnapping plot.”

Yves chuckles. “Thank the gods that man is immortal, or he’d be dead ten times over by now with his antics.”

I laugh too. “Gotta love him though.”

“A thousand percent.” Stepping forward, he rests his hand on my shoulder. “I’m here if you need to talk though.”

“I know.”

Yves’s gaze lingers as he searches my eyes. The pull I always feel towards him is still there—weaker as the years go on, but present. I could easily follow him inside, climb into his bed, and revel in the way our bodies move together, but I won’t. The aftermath of it is too much for both of us.

“Goodnight, Syn,” Yves says, stepping back. “Rest well.”

“You too, Yves.”

I watch him enter his unit and close the door before walking further down the hall to mine at the end. Inside, I set my keys down and hang my trench on the rack by the door before stepping deeper into the space.

We let Viv help us decorate based on how she saw our personalities. I got black walls, leather furniture, brass accents, and lots of interesting art pieces and sculptures. It’s modern and sleek while somehow managing to be warm. I smile as I drag my hand across the back of my leather sofa. Viv knows me well.

I walk through the apartment, my boots on the wood floors the only sound as I make my way to the bedroom. This room is my sanctuary. Luxurious linens, a large bed, moody lighting, and a view of New Onyx to die for. If I could die at all.

I peel off my clothes, draping them over a velvet armchair in front of the windows, until I’m naked. Once I slip between my silk sheets, the cool material sliding easily across my skin, I close my eyes, conjuring Bowie’s sweet face.

It’s a travesty that such beauty lives among the worst of the city. He deserves a life of luxury. I’d give him anything his heart desires.

Yes. I’m going to rescue him from that life one way or another.

If it’s the last thing I do.

Chapter Seven

BOWIE

After another long shift at the bar, I lock the back door and walk down the alley, my hands shoved in my hoodie. It’s raining and cold, which fucking sucks. I can’t sleep in wet clothes, so I decide to head to the laundromat that’s open all night. If I can get my hoodie dry, I can at least keep warm.

As I walk past homeless people asking for money, sex workers offering their time, and more than a few junkies, my thoughts turn heavy, the bitterness I struggle with daily threatening to take over. This isn’t at all what my life was supposed to be like. I was supposed to go to college and get my computer programming degree. I could’ve been doing good by now, with my own place and money in the bank. But my dad had to go and fuck up everything.

I turn a corner and look over my shoulder, overcome by the distinct feeling that I’m being watched. With rain pouring down, it’s hard to see, but a quick glance settles my nerves. I’m alone.

Making it to the laundromat, I slip inside and head to the bank of dryers, digging in my pocket for a few quarters. While my hoodie dries, I lean against a counter, trying to push away the dark thoughts that sometimes won’t let me go. But I’m not giving in to any of the shit I did before to make them go away. I learned the hard way that it’s only temporary. All the alcohol and fighting in the world won’t fix what’s wrong with me.

Thirty minutes later, my hoodie is dry. I tuck it under my t-shirt in an attempt to keep it that way while I walk the three blocks back to my house. I chuckle internally at that thought. My house. Yeah, right.

Outside, I walk as quickly as possible, but just as I get to the corner across from the house, I spot a group of drug dealers known for causing trouble around here. I slip into an alley, avoiding them for a minute while I collect my thoughts. The only route to the house is through them. Maybe if I just keep my head down and walk with purpose, they’ll leave me alone. Fuck. That’s all I got.

With a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and walk with as much confidence as I can, keeping my eyes on my feet and hoping like all hell they have other plans than fucking with me tonight.

“Hey,” one of them says as I pass, killing my hopes of getting by undetected.

I try to keep walking, thinking maybe with the rain they’ll think I didn’t hear them, too afraid to check behind me, but then my feet go out from under me and I’m falling face first in the front yard of the house as one of them shoves me.

I lie there, motionless, willing them to leave, but no such luck. I’m lifted from the ground and spun around, two of them holding me up while the other glares at me.

“I was talking to you,” he says in a thick New Onyx accent—nasal, harsh, and tough-sounding.

I say nothing, because what the fuck do I say?

“Give me what’s in your pockets.”

My heart sinks. I didn’t make much tonight, but I still had some left over from the big tip Syn gave me. Before I can react, his fist slams into my jaw, sending waves of pain through my head.

I feel a hand in the front pocket of my jeans. “Got the cash, boss.”

“Don’t you fucking talk, man?” the “boss” asks me, holding my gaze. When I don’t reply, he yells, “Answer me!”

“What do you want? You got my money. Just leave me alone.”

“Leave you alone?” he says, chuckling. “How about you don’t tell me what to do?”

He punches me in the stomach then, and as the three of them proceed to beat me, I realize I should’ve just stayed silent. Maybe they’ll kill me.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. It couldn’t be much worse than living.

As the men continue to pummel me, kicking my ribs, punching my face, and slamming me against the ground, I close my eyes, unable to fight back anymore, knowing my hold on this life is slipping away…

But something shifts.

The beating stops, and I open my hazy eyes to see a figure in black, a cape-like coat blowing in the night, eyes glowing like a dark guardian angel. Even without seeing clearly, I know exactly who it is.

Syn.

Syn came to save me.

Then the world around me goes black.

Searing pain sucks the breath from me as I shift and open my eyes. “Fuck.”

“Don’t move too much.”

The voice is deep and menacing, yet somehow soothing.

“Syn?”

“Yes, it’s me. Here. Drink some water.”

I force my eyes completely open, focusing on the man as he helps me sit up and presses a bottle of cool water to my lips. There’s a bitter taste in my mouth as well as a touch of coppery blood. It takes another second for me to realize I’m not lying on the ground or the hard floors of my abandoned house.

“Where am I?”

“My home,” Syn answers.

“You…” I squeeze my eyes. Pain radiates everywhere, from my head to my feet. “You saved me.”

“I wish I had been there sooner. You’ll be okay though.”

I nod, then grip my forehead. “Fuck. My head is pounding.”

“I have some pain meds for you.” He reaches over to a nightstand and hands me two pills I recognize as over-the-counter pain relief. I swallow them down and drink more water.

“Thank you.”

He only nods, watching me with an intense expression.

“What…what happened after I passed out?”

“You don’t need to worry about those guys again. I handled it.” He takes the bottle of water from me and helps me lie down again. “Stay here and rest. You need to recover. You’re safe here.”

“I can go home.” The intense frown that forms on his face makes it clear he knows I don’t have one. Searching his eyes and finding no secrets, I shift in bed, causing more pain. This man might be a criminal, and somehow, he always seems to pop up when I need help. “Have you been following me?”

Syn’s expression doesn’t change at all. “No.”

Is it possible to completely believe someone yet know they aren’t telling you the whole truth?

“I don’t want to be in your way.”

“You’re not. I brought you here to heal and rest. Are you hungry?”

I focus on my hunger for a second. “Not really.”

Slowly, the realization sinks in that under these incredibly soft sheets, I’m almost naked.

“Uh, what happened to my clothes?”

“I removed them and had them taken to be washed. You were covered in mud and…”

“Blood.” I nod, even though Syn doesn’t confirm it. “They were gonna kill me.”

He nods, lips tight.

I lower my head, running my hand over my tender ribs. “I didn’t do anything. I was just trying to get home.”

“People like that do not need a reason for the terrible things they do.” He reaches a hand out to me, brushing a lock of hair from my face. The gesture is tender, warm, and comforting, but not like a parent. No. Definitely like a lover. “I assure you those men will not be a problem anymore.”

“Did you…” The question slips away. Do I really want to know what he did to them? “Um, you said I’m safe here?”

“Absolutely. Nothing bad can get to you here.”

Even him? I’m tempted to ask. Is he a criminal? Does it matter as long as he’s nice to me?

“Rest,” Syn says. “There’s an attached bathroom and fresh towels inside. I’ll have your clothes returned once they’re done. Later, I’ll have lunch brought in.”

“Thanks, Syn. I don’t know what…” My voice breaks with emotion. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“My pleasure, Bowie. Is there anyone you need to call to let them know your whereabouts?”

I shake my head. “No. The bar’s closed today.”

He smiles, just slightly, his eyes roaming across my face, and in them, I see something unfamiliar. Could he actually care about me? I’m a stranger. He could’ve dumped me off at a hospital or a shelter. He could’ve left me in the grass. But he brought me to his house.

“I’m right down the hall if you need anything.” He stands, his massive frame towering over me and making me feel small. Protected.

“Okay.”

He looks back at me once before closing the door, and then he’s gone. I exhale, wincing from the pain of it. I manage to get up and hobble to the bathroom. All my limbs work, so that’s a plus. After relieving my bladder, I force myself to look at my reflection, gasping when I see the damage.

There’s a gash on my left cheek and black-and-purple bruises cover most of my face, circling my eyes and the cut above my eyebrow. As my gaze moves down, I see that my chest and torso are nothing but red-and-purple bruises.

Syn obviously cleaned me up a little before putting me in bed. It feels a little weird that a stranger saw me almost naked and cared for me in that way, but I’m nothing but thankful. I would’ve died otherwise.

An unopened toothbrush sits on the counter, along with towels and a fresh bar of soap. Eagerly, I open the package and brush my teeth, on the brink of tears at how good it feels to have new toiletries. The beat-up toothbrush I’ve been using for way too long feels like a distant memory now.

After rinsing my mouth, I turn around and finally take in my surroundings. The bathroom is incredible. Large and spacious, with a huge soaking tub in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, massive walk-in shower, and luxury everywhere, from the marble floors to the brass fixtures. It’s like a super fancy hotel. At least from what I’ve heard.

If I could run into the shower without massive pain, I would. I make my way to it, knowing the hot water will feel amazing. I barely remember what it’s like to live in a house with running water and electricity and a clean bed to sleep on. Ah, the little things. Sure, using the shower at Stan and Nelly’s is a blessing, even if it is a dank, moldy bathroom, but this? This is luxury.

Standing under the showerhead, my face turned up, is like standing in summer rain. I can almost feel my pain washing away. I scrub my body with the floral-scented soap, wincing through it but too excited to be clean to let it slow me down. There’s pineapple-scented shampoo and conditioner, and I can almost taste the sweet fruit from the smell.

I stand in the shower long enough that the water starts to cool, so I reluctantly step out, feeling slightly guilty that I used so much water. If I was at Stan’s, he’d scream at me and tell me if his water bill went up, he’d take it from my wages. Something tells me Syn doesn’t care about his water bill. Not in a home like this.

Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I shuffle back to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as I take in the room. It’s very moody, with charcoal-gray walls and black furniture. It’s decorated like a magazine—all modern furniture and art everywhere. If this is his guest bedroom, I wonder what the rest of the house looks like.

The door opens and a woman steps inside, making me gasp and clutch the towel around my waist.

“Sorry to startle you,” she says. “I’m Viv. Brought you some medicine.” She walks over to me and sets it on the nightstand. She’s a tiny thing, petite, but with her mane of wavy red hair I’m guessing she’s anything but meek. “It doesn’t taste good, but it’ll help you feel better.”

“What is it?”

“Home remedy.”

I eye the bottle with slight suspicion. Can I trust her?

She must sense my concern because she dips her finger into the bottle and then sucks the liquid off. “It’s safe. I’m an herbalist employed by the House of Orpheus.”

“House of Orpheus?”

She smiles kindly. “Syn will tell you more later, I’m sure.”

I nod, glancing at the jar again. “Okay. I’ll drink it.” Viv hands me the bottle. I sniff it, crinkling my nose at the bitter scent, before drinking it down like a shot. I nearly gag at the foul taste of it. “Damn.”

Viv chuckles. “I know. Sorry. It’s gross, but it’ll help you heal much faster.”

“Thanks, I think.”

Her smile is nice, comforting. Like the way Nelly looks at me when Stan isn’t around. Like a mother, even though this woman can’t be too much older than me, if at all.

“Get some more rest. I’ll check on you in a couple of hours.”

“Okay.”

She leaves the room, closing the door behind her. I don’t want to put my dirty underwear back on, so I toss the towel to the foot of the bed and slip between the silky sheets again, the tug of sleep quickly pulling at me.

Whatever Viv gave me is taking effect, warming my chest like whiskey, and sure enough, the pain in my ribs subsides a little. I close my eyes, burrowing into the bedding, and give in to sleep, feeling safe and warm for the first time in a very long time.

Chapter Eight

SYN

“Patient is resting and medicated,” Viv says, stepping into the living room where I’m sitting by the fireplace.

“Thanks for the help.”

“Not a prob.” She plops down in the armchair across from me, draping one leg over the arm of it. “He’s a cutie pie. Without the bruises, I bet he’s a stunner.”

“You have no idea.”

Viv grins, shifting in her chair to lean toward me. “Are you gonna keep him?”

“I am going to do my best. I know nothing about him. He may not even be open to men.”

“You could fix that.”

“I would never.”

“I know. You vampires have some serious morals for being cold-blooded killers.”

I chuckle at that.

“What did you do to the losers who attacked Bowie?” she asks.

“Feasted. Beat them senseless, then dragged them to the alley and handed them over to Midnight and Thorn to do the rest.”

“Oof. Thorn had a field day, I bet.”

“That’s why I called him.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t kill them.”

The memory of seeing my sweet Bowie lying limp on the ground flashes through my mind, igniting the rage I felt. My fangs drop in response.

“I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them to desire death after what they did to Bowie. I made sure their pain lasted.”

“Thank the gods you showed up when you did.”

“Yes.”

The one night I wasn’t following him he was hurt. It won’t happen again.

“Thank you again for your assistance.”

“My cue to leave.” She pops up. “My friend is coming by later to interview with Yves.”

“I’m aware. I’ll be there to meet her as well.”

Vivienne leaves, and as I finish my tea, my gaze shifts to the hallway leading to Bowie. Before long, I find myself returning to him.

As expected, he’s sleeping soundly, so I do what I’ve been doing since he got here and settle into the armchair by the window where I can watch him. The only sound he makes is his soft breathing. Every so often he stirs, but only to bury himself deeper into the bedding. My bedding.

After watching him struggle through his days and sleep in a cold house at night for more than a week, it feels good knowing that I can provide this for him. I just wonder what he’ll be like when he wakes.

A few hours go by and Bowie still sleeps. My phone buzzes, alerting me to the arrival of Viv’s friend. I can hardly tear myself away from the stunning man in bed, but I must. He’s safe here.

Forcing myself up, I gaze at Bowie once more before taking the short walk to Yves’s place. The others are gathered already, and all eyes are on me.

“What?” I ask.

“What, he asks.” Thorn snorts.

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t have a mortal in your home?” Eros asks, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I thought mortals were beneath you.”

“He’s not in my home in the sense of a lover.”

Midnight scoffs at that. “Try again, Syn.”

Amused, I answer, “I owe no explanation to any of you.”

“We tease because we care,” Raphael explains. “You must like the boy.”

“He’s not a boy. He’s a man, and I find him…intriguing. Is that enough to satisfy you heathens?”

“Not even close,” Thorn says, smirking. “But we’ll accept it for now.”

“How gracious.”

We banter in this way and always have, but there is no malice between us. I would give my immortal life for any of these men, as they would for me.

Yves opens the double doors to his home office and gestures to us to enter. Inside, sitting in a leather chair in front of Yves’s desk is a woman who looks like she could kill a weak man with a glare. A wild mane of jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a shock of red lipstick create a flawless face, her expression curious and friendly. Intricate tattoos cover the majority of her arms. She’s wearing a tight black dress that emphasizes the bounty of curves that is her figure, and if any man in this room dated women, she’d have a full calendar. Assuming she deemed us worthy of her. I doubt she would.

“Brothers,” Yves begins. “Please meet Viper.”

“Viper,” Thorn says, grinning. “Fitting.”

Viper smiles in return. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I meant it as one.”

“Please introduce yourselves,” Yves instructs.

“I’ll start,” Thorn says. “I’m Thorn.”

Viper chuckles. “Nice.”

Eros is next, introducing himself as he tucks a curl behind his ear. Viper nods in acknowledgment.

“I’m Raphael.”

“Midnight.”

Then Viper’s gaze moves to me.

“Syn.”

Her eyebrow rises. “Interesting.”

Yves gazes at the woman as if trying to learn her secrets, but I have a feeling Viper keeps her cards close to the vest.

“Are you a witch?” Eros asks.

“I dabble,” Viper answers. “I can’t do anything near what Viv can. My skills are more of the tactical variety.”

“What do you mean?” Midnight asks.

“I’ve spent the last ten years working as an executive assistant, managing calendars, schedules, handling confidential transactions, and basically making life easier for anyone I work with. I can’t create a potion or spell, but I can organize any mess you throw at me.”

“We don’t need those other things,” I say. “We have Viv for that. Why do you want to work with us?”

Her serene smile finally slips. “I’m looking for an environment where my skills are appreciated more than my…” She pauses, blue eyes roaming over all of us. “My appearance. Vivienne tells me that here I would be treated with respect and not chased around a desk or have insinuations made about how to advance my career.”

“Ah,” Yves says. “The male species has treated you poorly.”

She offers a curt nod. “I’m either treated like a showpiece or a servant. All I want is respect, a fair working environment, and the ability to do what I do best. Vivienne thought I could find that here.”

“Because?” Thorn asks, perched on the edge of Yves’s desk. “We’re men.”

Viper nods. “Yes, but as I understand it, you’re not romantically interested in women, and you treat Viv well.”

“Yeah, no one’s gonna pinch your ass around here,” Midnight says. “To be fair, we wouldn’t even if we were straight.”

“No,” Yves says. “We are a lot of things, but misogynistic isn’t one of them.”

She exhales, visibly relaxing. “I have references you can call. I’m also happy to provide a sample of my work if you want to give me a small project. For a consultation fee, of course.”

I like her. She can hold her own.

Yves’s eyes move up to me and I nod, already satisfied with Viper. For one, Viv wouldn’t send someone untrustworthy to us, and the woman is clearly smart. As Yves silently checks in with all of us, he turns back to Viper.

“The job is undefined,” Yves explains. “There is no list of duties or expectations. We would look to you to create the structure. You’ll need to sign a non-disclosure agreement based on the type of work we do.”

“Which is?” Viper asks.

“You don’t know?”

She shakes her head. “Vivienne told me you would disclose it if I got far enough.”

I smile. Viv always has our back. This is the real test. If she panics, we’ll have to compel her to forget.

Yves leans across his desk, his eyes just on the verge of glowing. “We are hired assassins.”

Viper’s face shows surprise, but she quickly neutralizes it. “Assassins?”

“The rich, powerful, and yes, sometimes corrupt hire us to do their dirty business. We take care of it and protect their names. We are paid extremely well for what we do, but with it comes a delicate aspect. Our clients must be protected at all costs. You will be privy to that information. How do you feel now knowing you would work for murderers?”

Her cheeks flush, creating a glow across her otherwise pale skin. We can all hear her increasing pulse, the rush of blood through her veins, the tinge of fear mixed with excitement overwhelming her floral perfume.

After swallowing slowly, she smiles. “The nature of your work doesn’t really concern me.”

Excellent answer, but Yves searches her eyes to ensure she’s being honest. He seems satisfied as he leans back in his chair.

“You would be paid well. If you are in need of housing or transportation, we can accommodate. Most of your work will take place here and in the common area.”

Viper nods, a subtle smile on her lips.

Yves continues. “If you agree to the terms, we’d like to offer you the position.”

She bounces in the chair, uncrossing her legs. “Really?”

“Yes. Do you accept?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great.” Yves stands, offering his hand, which Viper takes. “Viv will begin your training. She’s most familiar with what our needs are.”

“Oh. Vivienne will train me?”

“Is that a problem?” Yves asks.

“Not at all.” Her cheeks flush again, and if I’m not mistaken, the scent wafting off her is desire. “That sounds great.”

“Welcome to the House of Orpheus,” Yves says.

The rest of us shake Viper’s hand and welcome her. The others escort her out, and after she leaves, I start after them, but Yves stops me.

“Is your mortal doing well?”

“His name is Bowie, and yes. Viv helped. He’s sleeping now.”

“Good.”

“I have an unusual request. Could I be off rotation until Bowie is well?”

Yves smiles. “Not once have you ever asked for this.”

“I feel responsible for his safety.”

Yves tilts his head slightly. “That is your only interest in him?”

I laugh softly. “Busted. You know me well.”

“I do. I would like to see this man who has enchanted you. He must be a god or a sorcerer.”

I sense the hint of jealousy in his tone. “He is still a stranger to me. My interest is purely physical.”

“Amusing that you believe that. He sleeps in your home?”

“Would you have left him in the mud? Tucked him away in a cold, abandoned house? I don’t think you would have.”

“We aren’t talking about me.” He puts his hand on my arm. “Don’t take my comments as criticism. I’m merely curious. You know as well as I do that this is out of the ordinary for you.”

I nod, holding his gaze. “I am just as curious as you are.”

Yves smiles as his hand slides down my arm. “Just be smart. We know firsthand the perils that come along with loving mortals.”

“I don’t love him. I don’t even know his last name.”

“Then what is his allure for you?”

“He is beautiful, Yves.” The tugging in my chest refuses to stay silent. “And not just that. He’s wounded. Like a harmless animal. The world has been unkind to him, yet he pushes on. He fights back even when he’s outnumbered. I find his spirit intriguing.”

Yves nods, searching my eyes. “I hope he is worthy of your attention. Very few are.” He steps forward until he’s close enough to press his forehead to mine. “I only want what makes you happiest. You know that.”

I brush my fingers across his smooth cheek. “Yes, I do.”

He steps back, erasing the years of shared history from his expression. “Return to your treasure.”

I leave the apartment, pausing in the hallway to regain my composure. Yves does not love me, not romantically. I know this. We have chemistry, yes, and when his loneliness is at its peak, he confuses passion for emotions. Neither of us will ever give in. He’ll never taste my kiss again—we both know that, but my former lover is a jealous one. Something I will have to contend with should Bowie somehow stay in my life.

I enter my unit, walking down the hall to where Bowie sleeps. He’s still peacefully tucked in, bringing a smile to my face. I bet it’s been a long time since he’s been able to rest like this. A sense of pride washes over me, knowing I have given him this. I can take care of him.

Could I ever love him? Only the gods know that.

Chapter Nine

BOWIE

Islowly open my eyes, orienting myself after the most incredible nap ever. I needed the rest more than I realized. Then I remember where I am. Syn’s house.

I stretch, just enjoying the feeling of the sheets, before I finally sit up. The room is dark thanks to heavy curtains, but I see a glimpse of daylight where the panels meet. A shadow in the corner startles me, and then I realize what it is. Syn is sitting in a chair by the window, still watching me. Is he seriously watching me sleep?

“Uh, hey.”

“How do you feel?” Syn asks.

“Uh, the pain is mostly gone. That stuff Viv gave me really works.”

He nods, his stoic expression only slightly lifting. “Good. You must be hungry by now?”

As if on cue, my stomach rumbles and Syn actually chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so,” I answer.

“What do you like to eat?”

“Whatever you have is fine.”

“I’d rather you give me some ideas.”

Nodding, I drag my hand through my tangled hair. “I’d love a pizza. Extra cheese and ham.”

“Perfect. If you’d like to get dressed, I’ll be waiting in the dining room.”

“Uh, thanks, but um, I hate to ask but is there any way I could get my underwear washed too?”

“They have been. I saw them on the floor. They are on the bench with your other things.”

“Oh cool. Thanks.”

Standing, he nods, walking slowly and turning to me as he reaches the door. He doesn’t say anything, but I see the questions all over his face. I guess since he saved my life, I can at least answer some of them.

Once he’s gone, I climb out of bed and grab my clothes from the bench at the foot of the bed. I get dressed, walk into the bathroom, and run some water through my hair to tame it. The bruises on my face are still pretty fierce but fading rapidly. Whatever Viv has in that little bottle needs to be on the market. She’d be a very rich woman.

I leave my shoes behind and instead walk through the house with bare feet. The floors are cool and look like stone until I enter the main area, where they change to wood. On the walls is artwork that should probably be in a museum. Sculptures too. Passing the living room, I pause, taking it all in.

Are you fucking kidding me? All I see are floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline and luxury everywhere. It’s the only word I can use. Who lives like this? Syn has to be important. Either that, or he’s a very dangerous man. Regular people don’t have places like this.

As I continue down the hall, I find him in what he called the dining room, but I would call a restaurant. It’s not the size, but the niceness of it. In the center of the room is a massive wood table with intricately carved legs. I think it has bats carved into the wood. There’s a centerpiece in the middle of the table with at least twenty candles. Above us is a crystal chandelier that looks like it should be in a palace or some shit.

Syn is standing at the back of the room over a piece of furniture with bottles of alcohol and glasses on it. When he twists around, he smiles, his eyes relaxed as they roam over me. I’m starting to think he might be into men. Into me. And I don’t really know how to feel about that.

“I have water for you, but would you care for a glass of wine?” Syn asks.

“Um, I’ve never really had it. I’m more of a beer guy.”

“I can have some brought in for you.”

“Oh no. I’ll try the wine. I just meant I don’t know if I’ll like it.”

“Of course.” He turns around to pour me a glass.

“Uh, are we eating in here?”

Syn faces me again. “No. I thought we’d be more comfortable in the living room. If that’s alright.”

“Yeah. This is, uh, nice. It’s not as modern as the living room.”

Syn chuckles. “No. It’s an heirloom. I keep it for large dinners with my brothers.”

“Ah. Cool. How many brothers do you have?”

“Five for now.”

I scrunch my face in confusion. “For now?”

“Oh.” He chuckles again. “We are found family, Bowie. Chosen, if you will.”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

“And then we have Vivienne, whom you met earlier. A surrogate sister of sorts, and we just hired an assistant. Viper. Hopefully she’ll stay with us for a very long time.”

I nod, taking the glass of wine he offers. I sniff the deep red liquid. It smells a lot better than the ones I’ve poured at the bar, so I take a tentative sip, startled by the explosion of flavor on my tongue. It’s sweeter than I expected, but it has a unique taste, like the ripest cherries.

“Good?” Syn asks.

“Yeah. I like it.”

He smiles, almost like he feels proud.

“Come. The pizza will be here soon.”

I follow him back down the hall and to the living room, which is too damn nice to eat pizza in. No way am I sitting on that couch with greasy food in my hand. Syn sinks into the couch, crossing one leg over the other, an arm across the back of it, his wine glass in the other. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees, and the casual appearance is both welcoming and strange.

“Did I thank you for saving me?”

Syn nods. “Several times.”

I sit farther down the sofa, taking a sip of my wine before I continue. “You, um, you seem to show up at the right time.”

“I’ve been canvassing that neighborhood for a few months. I’m always aware of trouble.”

“Can I ask why? I mean, I know you sort of told me what you do, but…” I stop myself, shaking my head. “It’s none of my business.”

“I don’t want to hide things from you, Bowie, but you may not like my answers.”

Clutching my glass, I bite my bottom lip for a second. “I just need to know if I’m safe. With you, I mean.”

“You have never been safer.”

I nod, believing him. I’ve got a pretty dead-on bullshit meter, and there’s nothing unsettling about the man beside me. “Okay. I can handle that.”

“While I obviously don’t know all of your history, I know without a doubt that you have been through some things. Things I imagine you couldn’t control and didn’t deserve.”

My throat clogs with emotion listening to his words, but all I can do is nod.

“That is why I want to help. I have difficulty standing by and doing nothing when I could step in.”

“What do you mean?”

Syn sets his wine glass on the marble coffee table, his long black hair falling forward around his face as he leans closer to me. “Stay here with me, Bowie.”

His reply startles me, and I sit back slightly. “What? Stay here? I…” I huff a breath in pure surprise.

“Yes, here. You’re safe here. Warm. Please allow me to do this for you.”

“What do you want in return?”

His forehead creases. “Nothing.”

I scoff at that, standing and putting space between us. “Oh come on, Syn. I’m not stupid, you know. I’ve been around. People always want something.” I turn away from the windows to face him. “Do you expect me to fuck you?”

Now Syn is standing, approaching so quickly I barely saw him move. “Listen to me, Bowie. I understand you may have been in situations like this, but I am not the type of man you’re used to. I can promise you that. I would never take anything from you that you did not give willingly and out of choice rather than obligation.”

I cross my arms, still unsure. He sounds legit, but who just takes in strangers?

I jut my chin out in false confidence. “I’m not a charity case. Do you, um, do you want me to pay you back?”

Syn shakes his head, his face full of disappointment. “Bowie. It hurts my heart that you don’t recognize kindness.”

Huh. Maybe I don’t. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen it.”

He nods, gently leading me back to the couch by the elbow. “What I want is your safety. I want to know you’re sleeping somewhere safe and warm. I want to take one of your worries away.”

“Okay, but why? I mean, kindness, okay, but why me?”

Syn pulls my wrist until I sit down beside him. There’s no space between us as our knees touch, and Syn gazes into my eyes. Finally looking at him this close up, I have to admit he’s…well, he’s gorgeous.

Brown eyes the color of honey, long jet-black hair, and a short, groomed beard covering a sharp jaw. He doesn’t have a single scar or blemish on his face.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to say,” Syn starts. “But you asked for honesty, and I can’t deny you. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Bowie?”

“B-beautiful? No one’s ever called me that.”

A smile teases his lips as he holds my gaze. “I’m tempted to call you perfect, but I fear you would reject the sentiment. That night I first saw you, you captured my attention. I know nothing about you. I don’t even know what your romantic preferences are, but I know that anything you need, if I can provide it, I will.”

“Um…” I have no idea what to say.

“So why you, you ask?” He huffs a laugh. “Because you are worthy of my attention. You don’t have to give me anything in return. You owe me nothing.” He takes my hand in his, squeezing gently. “But you would make me very happy if you simply accepted my devotion.”

Blinking rapidly, I try to process what he’s saying. “You wouldn’t want me if you knew…everything.”

“You underestimate me. People have failed you. So many people broke your trust. I never will, Bowie. Never. You don’t even have to believe me. You can simply find out.”

“I’d be a dumbass to walk away from this, but I don’t feel like I can chill until I clear one more question up.”

“Ask anything.”

“Are you, um, I mean…” Now that I’m asking it, I’m losing the balls to say it.

“Am I gay? Yes. Am I attracted to you? Also yes. Will I do anything against your wishes? Absolutely not. I told you you are safe here, and I mean it.”

I nod, realizing he picked up on what I was thinking.

“Does it bother you?” Syn asks.

“No.” I clear my throat. “I should tell you though—”

I’m interrupted by a buzz at the door. Syn lifts a finger to motion me to wait, and walks across the space, disappearing down the hall. As he speaks to whoever is at the door, his voice vibrates through the space, and my stomach flips as I try to turn the chaos in my mind into words.

Syn returns a minute later carrying two pizza boxes. He sets them down on the coffee table, smiling as he heads deeper into the house. The smell of melted cheese and grease hitting my nose makes the hunger I’ve been feeling turn into a beast I better feed.

When Syn comes back, he has paper towels and plates. “Here we go.” He opens the top box and hands me a plate.

I load mine up with three slices, biting into the first piece and chewing for a moment with my eyes closed. Damn, this is good pizza.

“Where did you get this?” I ask. “It’s so good.”

Syn smiles. “A place I know downtown. I’m glad you like it. It’s Thorn’s favorite.”

“Thorn?”

“My brother.”

“Ah. The guy I saw you with?”

“Yes.” He puts a slice on his plate. “You were saying?”

“Oh.” I grab my water glass and drink half of it before taking another bite of my pizza. After swallowing, I take a deep breath. “Um, so I don’t really know, like, who or what I’m into. Dating wise, I mean.”

Syn cocks his head slightly. “What does that mean?”

“It means I, um, haven’t dated much. Or, like, at all. Um…” I shake my head, focusing on a piece of ham that I pick off my slice and pop in my mouth, chewing slowly. “I’ve never said any of this out loud.”

“Take your time.”

After a few seconds to chill out, I nod and look up. “I’ve been through some shit, which you picked up on. Since I was seventeen, I’ve been in survival mode. Before that, I was busy helping my family. I’m twenty-nine now, and um, I don’t have any romantic experience.”

“Oh,” Syn says softly.

“Sometimes I see a woman, and I think, wow, she’s pretty, but like, I don’t want to do anything with her, you know?”

Syn nods, watching me with that intense gaze of his.

“And other times, I’ve seen guys and thought they were hot or attractive. So I think I might be more attracted to men than women, but I don’t really know. I’ve never done anything with anyone.”

I’m expecting pity, maybe even disgust in his eyes, but that’s not what I see at all. He almost looks…happy.

“Not…not even a kiss?” Syn asks.

“Right. Um, being on the streets, you know, sometimes people want stuff from you, especially if they give you something first. Physical stuff.” I shrug. “I guess I just got lucky no one ever forced me.”

“Bowie,” Syn whispers. “Thank you for telling me. I won’t pretend that I know what you’ve been through, but our paths crossed for a reason. You have to believe that.”

I nod. “Kind of starting to.”

He scoots closer to me, and the action doesn’t bother me. In fact, I like it. “Is it okay if I touch you? Not sexually. Just touch.”

“Yeah.”

He tucks my hair behind my ear, gazing into my eyes, and as I study his face, warmth floods my body, like being wrapped in a thick blanket. I lean into his touch, pressing my cheek to his palm as I blow out a shaky breath.

“I haven’t been touched in a long time. Not nicely, I mean.”

Syn smiles as he caresses my cheek. “I told you earlier, Bowie, you are beautiful. Stunning. I never want to take my eyes off you, but you should know my interest in you extends beyond your physical appeal. There’s just something about you that draws me closer. Your spirit calls to mine.”

As I search the depth of his eyes, my body reacts to his touch, tingling nicely, but when my cock actually takes notice, my breath hitches. I don’t remember the last time I felt actual physical attraction.

“But I want to be clear about something,” Syn continues, while I try to make sense of what’s happening to me. “I want you, desperately. I want to worship your flesh and drown in your essence.”

“Wh-what?”

“I want you so much I would do anything to keep you. I want to be the first man who kisses you, the first to make love to you. I want to be the only man you ever give yourself to.”

My mouth falls open, leaving me speechless.

“But I will wait for you to come to me. If I wait a thousand years, that’s fine. The ball is in your court, Bowie. In the meantime, I insist you stay here. Heal your body and your spirit. I will respect you.”

“Are you even real? Did I die? Am I imagining all this?”

“No, Bowie, you did not die. I am real.”

Tentatively, I lift my hand and touch his cheek with trembling fingers. His eyelids flutter and he inhales, his nostrils flaring slightly. When he opens his eyes, they seem brighter than they were seconds ago. He closes his lips, swallowing hard. The knowledge that a simple touch from me can affect him so much is pretty wild.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just stay. That is thanks enough.” He moves back slightly. “Please keep eating. You need your strength.”

“Yeah.”

I take another bite of my pizza, my mind a storm of emotions. I learned something major about myself tonight. I still don’t know what my sexuality is, but I know for sure I’m attracted to the mysterious man sitting next to me. Now what the fuck do I do with that?

He’s intense, that’s for sure. Maybe even too much, but just being wanted is such a new experience for me, I’m not sure what it’s supposed to look like. The thought of him kissing me makes my tummy flip in a good way.

All these years I wondered if I even felt attraction, but I can say for sure that I do. I just needed to get away from the stress of life to see it.

When I shift my eyes to Syn, he’s watching me eat. He smiles as he lifts his wine glass and takes a sip. He’s barely eaten any pizza, and I’d bet he wasn’t hungry. He just got this for me. With a deep breath, I smile at him, then dig into another slice, knowing that at least for now, I’m warm, fed, and dry.

Thanks to Syn, I’m safe.

Chapter Ten

SYN

Seeing Bowie eat, his body visibly relaxing in my presence, is my new addiction. His heart beats at a languid pace as he devours the first pizza.

His eyes flick to me every few minutes, as if he’s checking that I’m still here and none of this is a dream. If he allows it, this will be his new life. I will spend every moment of mine caring for him. Knowing that no other person, man or woman, has ever touched him romantically threatens to draw my fangs from their hiding place so I can invite him to accept my dark gift.

But I won’t rush him. He’s been traumatized by life, and the last thing he needs is an overzealous vampire. No. I will practice patience. He needs to know he’s safe here with me, and he is. As unaccustomed to waiting as I am, Bowie is worth my wait. I am positive of it.

The doorbell rings and I roll my eyes, already knowing who’s behind it. Bowie looks over his shoulder, licking a bit of pizza sauce from his upper lip and stirring my lust once more with the simple gesture.

“It’s my family,” I explain. “I imagine they want to meet you. Is that alright?”

Bowie nods. “Yeah. Sure.”

I bow my head, then stand and head down the hall. At least they did me the courtesy of knocking. Usually, they just barge in.

I open the door, and sure enough, my brothers crowd the doorway. Thorn and Midnight are first to push their way in, followed by Eros and Raphael. Yves is the last to enter, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment as the others race down the hall like excited puppies.

“I kept them away as long as I could,” Yves says.

“I appreciate that. He’s eating now.”

“And he’s well?”

“Getting better. Viv hooked us up with one of her healing potions.”

“Excellent.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

Yves grins. “Oh, absolutely. I must see the beauty who has captured the beast.”

Chuckling, I put my hand on his shoulder, leading him to the living room where we find our brothers perched in various locations to gawk at the poor mortal. Bowie looks at me with wide eyes, but I sense no fear.

“Give him some space, you piranhas.”

Thorn chuckles, moving from his space next to Bowie, while Midnight has already opened the second box to steal a slice.

“We were just getting to know him,” Thorn says, winking at me.

“Or smothering him.”

Bowie takes a sip of his wine, then holds the stem of his glass between his knees as he gazes around at everyone.

“Did you get everyone’s names?” I ask.

“Uh, I think so.” He looks around, pointing at each brother as he recites their names, “Thorn, Midnight, Raphael, and Eros.”

“Damn, you’re good,” Eros says, grinning.

“Well, your names are pretty unique,” Bowie says.

“I’m Yves,” my brother says, introducing himself.

“Bowie.”

“Okay, you’ve met him,” I announce. “He needs to rest.”

“Party pooper.” Thorn pops his bottom lip.

“Right?” Midnight chimes in, mumbling through his mouthful of food. “Damn. This pizza is so good.”

“It’s the best I’ve had,” Bowie says, softly, but with a big smile on his face.

Bowie’s expression seems to mesmerize my brothers, as they all gaze at him like they’ve never seen a mortal before. Perhaps they see what I do in Bowie, and if I didn’t trust my brothers the way I do, I would force them away from him.

“What?” Bowie asks. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

“Nope,” Midnight answers, grinning.

“That’s enough, guys,” Yves says, coming to my rescue. “Bowie needs rest.”

“You’re staying though, right?” Eros asks.

Bowie glances at me before nodding. “Yeah, I’m staying.”

“Nice,” Raphael says. “Finally some new blood around here.”

I cough, glaring at him.

“What?” Raphael says as Thorn grabs his arm. “It’s an expression,” he says from down the hallway on his way out.

My other brothers follow him, all silently congratulating me as they leave. Yves leans in to hug me, whispering, “I am happy for you. He is very beautiful. I like his energy.”

“Thank you.”

Yves nods and leaves as well. I sit next to Bowie on the couch.

“Sorry about that. They’re curious. I’ve never had someone here with me.”

Bowie’s eyes go wide. “Never?”

I shake my head. “I’m notoriously private and picky about the energy I allow in my home.”

He nods, searching my face. “Good. Some people really fuck things up.”

“Definitely.”

“And, um, thanks,” he continues. “I feel kind of special.”

“You are.”

His cheeks bloom pink as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “Your brothers seem fun. Lots of personality. Except Yves. He seems serious. More like you.”

I take my wine glass from the coffee table and lean back. “He is. He takes a lot of responsibility for us since he brought us together. Made us what we are.”

“That’s so cool though. He made his own family.”

“Yes. I have the most in common with him, but I’m capable of letting loose when I want to.”

“And he’s not?”

“He is, but he chooses not to.”

Bowie nods, picking at the crust on his plate. “I kind of get that. I’ve never been like other guys my age. I couldn’t.”

“You can now if you want to.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know how.”

“Maybe you’ll learn.”

“Yeah.” He grins. “So I’m guessing Thorn and Midnight are the wild ones?”

I chuckle. “Accurate. Thorn is the hedonist among us. He lives every second of his existence to the absolute fullest. Midnight is slightly more cautious. He’s our thinker. He’s prone to turning inward and spending chunks of time alone.”

“And Eros?”

“The lover. He’s a walking poetry book.”

Bowie laughs. “Raphael?”

“As his name suggests, he is the artist. He is capable of both rose-colored glasses and mayhem. He is the one we send for our most gruesome jobs. He is an enigma.”

“Wow. That leaves Yves. The serious one.”

“We call him the visionary. He designed this life we lead. He envisioned the family we would be. He saw more in us than we could see in ourselves. He holds us together through the ups and downs. We owe him our undying loyalty, and he has it.”

Bowie sets his plate on the coffee table, gazing down at his feet for a moment before shifting his gaze to me. “I bet that feels good. Loyalty. Knowing someone has your back.”

“You’re going to find out. I’m barely more than a stranger to you now, but I can be so much more. You can be part of this too.”

Bowie stands abruptly, walking across the room and stopping in front of the windows. He drags his hand through his hair as he gazes outside, and although everything in me wants to rush to his side and demand to know what I said wrong, I force myself to stay put and give him space.

After a minute, he turns slightly toward me. “I don’t get it. I know you said you like my face and my energy, but I could be a total asshole. I could be a thief. I could be a really bad dude and you just let me into your life. Aren’t you at least slightly guarded?”

“No, Bowie, I am not.”

“Why? It’s not normal.”

“I’m not normal.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, then actually laughs. “Fine. You’re obviously not normal. Your name is Syn. There’s a story there.”

I blink, saying nothing.

“Not gonna tell me?”

“You’ve had a lot of new information thrown at you today. We have plenty of time to learn about each other.”

He shrugs, dropping his arms. “Fair enough.” When Bowie returns to the couch, he pauses, then sits down next to me. “I need to go get the rest of my stuff at the house.”

I frown. “I didn’t see anything.”

“It’s under a floorboard. It’s not much, but it’s mine.”

“I’ll retrieve it. Which room?”

“There’s a bedroom in the back of the house. Purple walls. It’s under the floor in the closet.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.” His voice cracks slightly, and without thinking I pull him into my arms.

He tenses briefly, then, like a deflated balloon, sinks against me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His hair smells like my shampoo, but underneath it is a most intriguing scent that I can’t quite name.

Bowie burrows his face into my chest like a wounded child in need of comfort, and as I hold him, some part of me awakens. I must protect him. I can sense the rage spreading through my veins, threatening to bring my beast to the surface, but I can’t let him see that. Not yet.

I pull him away gently, gazing into his eyes. He looks confused and a bit awestruck.

“Are you alright, Bowie?”

He nods, blowing out a breath. “Yeah. I, um…whew. It’s been a long time since anyone has hugged me.”

I narrow my eyes, barely containing the desire to hunt down and destroy everyone who ever hurt this man. I want to ask about his parents and what happened when he was seventeen, but I will let him choose what and when he’s ready to disclose.

“Rest,” I whisper. “I’ll be back soon.”

Bowie nods. “Cool. Um, do you have a TV?”

“A TV? No. I can get one though.”

“Nah. It’s okay. I’ll probably fall asleep again.”

He smiles as he stands slowly, gazing at me before turning and walking down the hall. I watch him go, overcome with emotions I have only heard about from others. Desire, yes, but this is more than that. The tightness in my chest extends far beyond simple lust. I want him on a level that is brand new for him. As my mouth literally waters and my fangs throb, my need for Bowie becomes strikingly clear.

I want to make him mine.

While Bowie sleeps, I head to Yves’s for an update on things. I feel a little checked out with my focus on Bowie. In the common area, Thorn and Midnight are doing shots of hard liquor, which makes me snort considering the amount of alcohol it takes for us to even feel buzzed would kill a mortal.

“I assume one of you lost a bet?” I ask, walking up behind them.

Thorn nods, his brow creased as he swipes his mouth with his forearm. “Midnight thinks I’m losing my edge.”

Eros, sitting quietly in an armchair with a book of poetry, rolls his eyes. “They’ve been doing this for over an hour.”

“A complete waste of good alcohol,” Raphael says. “You can’t appreciate it the way you’re gulping it down.”

Thorn mocks our brother, mouthing his words as he pulls a joint out of his jacket pocket—another habit that has little effect on vampires.

“You have fun your way. I’ll have fun my way,” Thorn says, lighting it.

“At least he’s past his heroin stage,” I add with a smirk.

Midnight snorts a laugh as he slams his empty shot glass down. “Could’ve killed an elephant with the amount he was taking.”

Thorn drags his hand through his light brown hair. “Why should mortals have all the fun?”

“Are they having fun?” Eros asks. “I doubt addiction is a great time.”

“Yes, but it started out as fun,” Thorn says. “And it remains fun if you’re a vampire.”

Midnight holds up a shot glass for me. “Want one?”

“Not tonight. Have fun.”

I wander away, leaving my brothers to enjoy their off time. Since everyone is here, I assume there aren’t any major jobs to fulfill tonight. That’s a rare occasion.

Entering Yves’s home, I head straight to his home office, knowing without a doubt that I’ll find him there. Sure enough, he’s leaning over a large book, dragging his finger over the pages, his brow creased.

“Yves.”

“Come in,” he says without looking up. Of course he knew I was here. You can’t sneak up on a vampire.

I enter the office and sit in a leather chair across from him. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” He glances up, leaning back in his chair. “I’m turning this over to Viper and Vivienne tomorrow. It’s our ledger book. They plan to digitize it.”

“Aw. You’re stepping into the twenty-first century.”

“Reluctantly. You can’t hack a book, but you can a computer.”

“A valid concern. Have you discussed it with Viper?”

He nods. “Yes. She assures me it will be encrypted. Unhackable, she says.”

“And you trust her?”

“I trust Vivienne. If Viper isn’t right for the job, she’ll tell me.”

“Agreed.”

“What brings you here? I’m surprised you can leave the man in your home.”

Grinning, I nod. “He went back to bed. I wanted to check in and see how things are. I see the guys are all here.”

“Yes. A rare night in. We have a few projects I expect to kick in next week. Which brings me to you. When it’s time for you to work again, how will you explain it to your treasure?”

“One day at a time.” Dragging a hand through my hair, a sense of loyalty comes over me. “I told him what we do.”

Yves raises an eyebrow. “And?”

“He took it calmly. Obviously, I left out our true nature. I’ll cross that bridge if it’s ever necessary.”

Yves nods, studying my face. “You told him we were killers and he reacted calmly?”

“Yeah. He’s had a rough life. I think it takes a lot to shock him.”

“I see. What are your intentions with him?”

My stomach surprisingly flutters, and I meet my brother’s gaze head on. If I can’t confide in Yves, who can I talk to?

“I am almost frightened by the intensity of my reaction to him.”

Yves’s eyes widen briefly. “What do you mean?”

“Even the night we met, something about him captured my attention. I think about him constantly. Now he’s in my home, scenting my sheets.” I shake my head as my fangs throb. “It’s all I can do not to bite.”

“And you have not had sex yet?”

“No. Not even a kiss. It’s like I’ve found something so precious and rare that if I could, I would ball him up and carry him in my pocket to keep him with me at all times.”

“Now, that is interesting.”

“There’s more. My body physically reacts to his closeness. My stomach flutters, my heartbeat quickens. My beast dares to show himself without invitation. It’s almost like I’m going mad, but I’m fully aware of my descent.”

Yves’s expression morphs to one of concern. “Oh.”

“What?”

“It’s probably nothing.”

“But?”

“There’s a myth among our kind, and until this moment, I had my doubts as to whether any of it was true.”

I sit up, leaning closer. “Go on.”

Yves stands, walking across his office to a tall armoire. He opens the double doors, reaching to the back of a shelf and producing a scroll. It’s old and worn around the edges. A piece of leather keeps it closed.

“This,” Yves says. “It’s a fairy tale. Or at least I thought so. Inside, it tells the story of a man who wandered the earth in search of his place. He battled monsters and gods, tumultuous seas, and treacherous deserts until he came upon a demon who offered him a choice.”

“I know this story. It is about your maker?”

Yves nods. “The demon gave the man a riddle. If he got it right, he could step into paradise, but if he got it wrong, he would be cursed with the desire for blood.”

“And he got it wrong.”

“Yes. Becoming the first vampire to exist.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“There’s more to the story I never shared because, as I said, I thought it was pure myth.” He unrolls the scroll carefully, pointing to the bottom of the page. “Here, it talks about the man finally finding his purpose when he met his mate.”

“Mate?”

Yves nods. “A fated mate. A person designated for you by fate itself.”

His words tumble around my head as I search for something that makes sense. “A fated mate? Like those of the wolf shifters we hear about?”

“Exactly. As mortals, we are not guaranteed a fated mate because our lives are too short. Our existence too fragile.”

“But when we became immortal?”

“Apparently, we are then worthy of a mate.”

“Even though our origin is a curse?”

Yves laughs softly. “Intended to curse, but what a gift it is in the right hands. Don’t you agree?”

I nod, recalling how it ended for Yves’s maker. “Yes. Of course. Are you saying then, that I have…That Bowie is…”

Yves nods, his eyes warm with affection. “Your description matches. According to this document, when one meets their fated mate, they are consumed by their existence. All else in their life takes a backseat. For our kind, an overwhelming desire to protect and to feed are the main indicators.”

I am stunned. I sit back in the chair, processing Yves’s words. After a moment, I ask, “Why didn’t you share this with us sooner?”

“Again, I thought it was folly. Myth. Something to give those of us with eternal life something to look forward to, but I thought it was cruel to believe in a myth. In my many years, I have never heard of one of our kind having one. I tried to make it true with Marcello.” He shakes his head. “But I was forcing it.” He lifts the glass of wine on his desk and sips it. “I buried it after that. I never wanted any of you to feel that kind of disappointment.”

I reach across the desk and squeeze his hand. “You were protecting us.”

“It is my duty and honor.”

Exhaling slowly, I sit back again. “If it’s true, if Bowie is meant to be with me, what do I do next?”

“Ah. That’s where my knowledge runs dry. I will have to do research. For now, I would follow your instincts.”

“Even if my instincts tell me to hoard him away?”

“Perhaps that is your purpose in his life, Syn. You said he has had a hard life.” He smiles. “You can give him a soft one.”

My throat clogs with emotion at the mere idea that I could serve a higher purpose in Bowie’s life. “Thank you, Yves.”

He nods. “If it is true, and I believe it could be, then let me be the first to tell you how happy I am it is you. Who deserves it more?”

“You do. I have never even sought love. I have never pined for it. Never even fantasized about it. Why should fate choose me?”

“You’re looking at it all wrong, Syn. What if fate chose Bowie? What if, after all Bowie has been through, fate pushed him into your arms so that he could finally know what love and safety feels like? It’s a nice thought, isn’t it?”

“Very.”

“Go to him, Syn. Let him see who you are at your core. Everything is fine here.”

I nod, standing. “Thank you, Yves.”

He stands too, walking around his desk to pull me into an embrace. There is no desire coming from him, no sadness, just happiness and the encouragement I need right now.

I walk back to my unit in a daze, heading straight to my bedroom where Bowie sleeps. I sit in the armchair, soothed by his soft breaths, allowing myself to envision a future where I climb in next to him and claim his body, his heart, and his blood.

I can hardly wait.

Chapter Eleven

BOWIE

This time when I open my eyes, I’m not at all surprised to see Syn sitting in the armchair by the window, reading a book. As soon I stir, he lifts his gaze to me.

“Good morning,” he says softly.

“Morning. I slept through the night again?”

“You did.”

“Guess I was more tired than I thought.”

Syn nods, setting his book down and keeping his gaze trained on me. “You must be hungry.”

Rubbing my empty belly, I nod. “I could definitely eat.”

“What would you like?”

Shrugging, I sit up and swing my legs out until my feet hit the floor. “I’m not picky. I’ll eat whatever you got. Even leftover pizza.”

Syn stands, still gazing at me like he’s found some rare object he didn’t know existed. It’s different from how he looked at me before. There’s more…curiosity, I guess, in his eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of purchasing a few items for you. The clothes are on the bench.”

“You bought me clothes?”

He nods, still searching my eyes. “Just a few things so you’d be comfortable while you healed.”

I lean to the side to spy the pile of clothes on the bench. There’s a jacket and shoes too. I don’t really know how to feel about this. I’m not some kind of kept man, but I really did need new stuff.

“Um, thanks.”

Syn clears his throat. “My pleasure.” He gestures to a dresser. My beat-up backpack sits on the floor, standing out against the luxury of the room. “I had one of my brothers retrieve your items from the house, as well.”

“I don’t really know what to say, Syn.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Okay.”

Once he’s gone, I slide out of bed and look through the new clothes. He bought t-shirts, a few sweaters, jeans, sweatpants, underwear, socks, a jacket, a pair of sneakers, and a pair of boots like the ones I’ve seen him wear.

I don’t know much about what stuff costs, but I know quality when I feel it. Even the t-shirt material is thick and super soft. I’m damn near giddy. Not since I was a kid has anyone bought me clothes. I get by with a few thrifted pieces a year when I can swing it, so this feels like Christmas Day. At least, like the holidays I had as a kid, before everything went to shit.

As I head to the bathroom, guilt washes over me. Why is Syn being so nice when he says he doesn’t expect anything in return? That can’t be true. No one just gives you stuff. My own uncle makes me work for a meal, for fuck’s sake.

I turn on the shower to warm it while I brush my teeth, my thoughts bouncing around my head. Should I put my guard up? Or should I get on my knees and figure out how to pleasure a man? Should I refuse the gift?

I spit out the toothpaste, studying my reflection. Unbelievably, the bruises are almost gone, the cuts healed over. I look almost like myself again.

Stepping into the shower, I close my eyes as the hot water hits my skin. With my hands on the tiled wall, I stand under the stream, my hair falling forward, my thoughts chaotic. Now, for the first time in twelve years, I wish I had someone I could go to. But if my parents were here, I wouldn’t be in this situation anyway.

Even with my belly rumbling from hunger, I take my time in the shower, enjoying it while it lasts. Sure, Syn said I can stay, but does he mean it? Will he still say that after weeks of giving me things when I have nothing to give in return?

An unwanted memory slams into my thoughts, pushing out everything else. It was the night I learned how hard being on the streets could be.

“That burger good?” the man sitting next to me asks.

Nodding, I shovel another bite in my face, too hungry to care about manners, and mumble a, “Thank you.”

The man, sneering at me, reaches out to pet my hair, sending a shiver of apprehension down my spine.

“I got a nice clean bed you can sleep in too, pretty boy.”

I look at him at that point, stuffing fries in my mouth. “That’s okay.”

“I insist.” He’s not smiling, but his teeth are showing, almost like an animal trying to appear nice before it attacks. “You know, if you stick with me, you can eat like this every night. You can have a safe, dry place to sleep. Showers, clean clothes. All of it.”

The offer is enticing, but something in his delivery doesn’t feel right. “Is it a job?”

The man nods, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, it’s a job.”

“What do I gotta do?”

“Eat up,” he says. “I’ll show you when you’re done.”

I nod, pushing away the warning signals in my brain. I need work. I need food. Maybe whatever he wants isn’t that bad.

I was wrong. What he wanted was to be my pimp. When I told him no…

“You stupid fuck,” the man snarls. “You don’t get something for nothing out here.” He pushes me against the wall, rubbing his hand over my cock that refuses to get hard, thank fuck.

I push him off, but he’s at least twice my size. When he unzips his pants and twists his hand in my hair, my instincts kick in. He’s going to force me.

Everything that happens next is a blur. By the time I hear the sirens, it’s too late. I stare at my bloodied fists and the limp body on the ground, noticing the people watching me.

A hand on my shoulder and a whispered, “Run” fails to break me out of my shock.

The memory drags me to my knees, and tears I’ve held in for too long stream down my cheeks, hidden by the hot water pummeling me. I wish it could burn away the memories, wash away the bad things that happened. Make me new again.

“Bowie?”

Syn’s voice reaches me, and I squeeze my eyes shut to make the tears stop.

“I’m okay,” I call out.

“I’m here if you need me.”

The door closes again and I sob. Why is this man who doesn’t know me so kind? Can I believe him? Can I trust him not to turn on me and become a monster like so many others have?

The water starts to cool, and I pull myself up, turning it off and stepping out. Crying actually helped. I feel a little lighter. I dry off, wrapping a towel around my waist, and open the bathroom door. Syn is sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed, facing the bathroom, his face filled with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I lean on the doorframe. “I heard everything you told me yesterday, and um, I mostly believe you, but…” I blow out a breath. I feel like an asshole questioning his kindness.

“But you’ve been lied to,” Syn says. “Exploited. You need reassurance.”

“Yeah. I feel like a dick even bringing it up.”

“Please don’t feel that way. It makes sense. I might be more worried if you weren’t a little cynical.” He smiles. “Why don’t you get dressed and come down? Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Thanks.”

Syn leaves, and I’d swear the temperature of the room changed with him. It’s much cooler in here than it was before my shower. Maybe it just feels that way because of how hot the bathroom is.

I choose a black t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans before walking downstairs to join Syn. He’s in the kitchen, pulling something out of the oven, and the whole room smells nice and homey.

“You can cook?” I ask.

He twists around, nodding. “A few things. I hope you like baked omelets.”

“I love eggs.”

His face lights up. “Good.” He sets the dish down on the stove. “Coffee?”

“Please. Just black is fine.”

“Is that how you prefer it?”

I chuckle. “I like it super sweet and almost white with cream.”

“Super sweet and almost white, coming right up.”

I watch him pour two cups, leaving his black and mixing cream and sugar into mine. He scoots the mug forward before turning his back to dish up breakfast. When he turns around again, he sets a plate in front of me with a huge fluffy omelet, a toasted English muffin, and some cut up fruit on it.

“Wow. Thank you.”

He sits next to me at the island with just a bowl of fruit. “I ate earlier,” he explains.

I dig into my omelet, closing my eyes as it nearly melts on my tongue. “So good.”

Syn smiles, sipping his coffee.

After eating for a few minutes, I turn my eyes to him. “How did you know I was going through something when I was in the shower?”

“I’m sensitive to energy. Have been for a long time. I sensed a shift in yours.”

“Huh. That’s kind of cool.”

“It can be. Do you want to talk about anything?”

I take a gulp of coffee to get my thoughts straight. “Something happened. It was bad.”

I blow out a breath, wondering if I can actually get the words out of my mouth. What if he throws me out after he knows?

When my gaze meets his, all I see is openness and encouragement, so I press on.

“I’d only been out on my own for three years at the time. I was still figuring out a lot of stuff. I had a lot of anger issues that I didn’t know what to do with. It was eating me up inside, so I had a really hard time keeping a job or a place to stay. People were scared of me.”

“Scared of you?”

“Yeah, seems weird now, right? But I was humbled. Before that, I would just kind of snap and rage would pour out of me, and I couldn’t stop it. I would yell and break things. I got kicked out of shelters and fired a lot.”

Syn watches me, his brow furrowed but his expression otherwise neutral.

“I was so desperate to just end my suffering. You know?”

Syn nods.

“This man…he had been lurking around the neighborhood for a couple of weeks. Seemed to take an interest in me, but I dodged him a lot. One night, it was pouring rain and I was so hungry.” My voice cracks as I blow out a raggedy breath.

Syn’s expression hardens, but I know he’s not upset with me. He’s upset about the story.

“The guy showed up at the right time. Or fuck, maybe it was the wrong time. I don’t know. He offered me a meal, and even though my gut told me not to accept it, I was too weak. I said yes.”

I look away from Syn to focus on my plate or I won’t be able to continue. I pop a grape into my mouth, giving myself a few seconds to chill before I start bawling again.

“I was eating and he explained he could give me a place to sleep, meals, safety. I was cold and wet and I thought maybe I could do what he wanted, at least for a while.”

I don’t dare look at Syn, but I swear I heard him growl.

“After I ate, he told me the job was, you know, selling my body. Maybe I was stupid or naive, but I just knew that wasn’t something I could do. I never judged anyone who did what they had to do to get by, but I’m just not built like that. I told him…fuck.”

“We can stop if you need to.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I need to get it out.”

Syn nods. “I’m listening. Go as slow as you need to.”

I push on. “I told him no, but he didn’t like that. He tried to force me, and I knew he was gonna hurt me if I didn’t fight back. All that rage I carried with me, it just exploded out of me, Syn. It was like something took over me, and by the time I realized what was happening, I’d beaten him almost to death.”

I chance a look at Syn, knowing if he looks disgusted, I have to be ready to go, but all I see in his eyes is understanding and acceptance.

“I was too shocked at what I’d done to run,” I continue. “There were so many witnesses, and even though a lot of them said they didn’t see me do it, it was obvious. I was covered in his blood. I was arrested for felony assault and theft even though I didn’t take anything. The dude said I attacked him to mug him, and they believed him.” I scoff. “They believed him ’cause he’s some business guy and I’m just a piece of shit.”

“Don’t ever say that again.” Syn’s tone is dark, deeper than normal.

I look at him with wide eyes. “Sorry.”

“No. You don’t have to be sorry either, Bowie. That man took advantage and the system failed you. All you did was defend yourself.”

“They didn’t see it that way. I served four years in prison. Got out for good behavior. It sucked, but it was good for me. I learned how to manage my rage. I was a lamb in a lion’s den in prison. I knew better than to fuck around there. I had time to think instead of just surviving. I had all these plans when I got out, but…” I shake my head. “People don’t give felons a chance. So Stan hired me. I’m sure Nelly made him do it.”

I focus on my coffee, not ready to unload the rest of my history yet. Syn waits quietly for me to continue.

“Nelly helps me as much as she can. She’s a good person with a shit husband. She brings me food sometimes, or cookies she’s baked. She lets me shower at their place. So that’s my life, Syn. I’m just a dude trying to survive.”

“You are more than that.”

Something is off about Syn. He’s speaking with his lips tight and his jaw tense.

“What is the man’s name?”

“What?”

“His name, Bowie. The man who caused this. What is it?”

“Why?”

“I want to know.” His expression softens a little. “I want you to tell me.”

Swallowing hard, I nod. “Rick Swanson.”

“Thank you.” Syn leans closer to me. “Also, thank you for telling me and trusting me with your history. It helps me understand you.”

“I felt like I owe you that, at least. Sometimes I get weird. Quiet. Angry for no reason.”

“You are safe to feel however you need to feel.”

I nod, piercing a piece of pineapple with my fork. “Do you ever just want to scream and tear something apart just to deal with all the anger and pain?” I shake my head. “Or course you don’t. You’re not angry.”

“I get angry too, Bowie. My anger can be…explosive. My job gives me an outlet to channel that rage. We all need space to feel.”

Nodding, I find myself almost in a trance as I gaze into his warm eyes. Why does he make me feel so calm and safe? Literally no one I’ve met since I lost my parents made me feel like this.

“Yeah, so like I said, I mostly believe you but part of me is scared to.”

“I told you the first night that you don’t have to believe me. You can find out. See for yourself. I am a lot of things, Bowie. Some of them are not good or nice. I don’t seek to hide that part of myself from you. But one thing I am not is an abuser.”

“I know. Like, on some level deep inside me, I know that. I think if you wanted to hurt me you would have already. If you wanted me to work on the streets or be involved in something else, I’d see clues by now. People aren’t very good at hiding their true motives.”

“No, they are not.”

“Yeah, so I’m gonna try to be cool.”

“You don’t need to be cool, Bowie. Just be yourself. I want nothing more from you than that.”

Sliding off my chair, I let my feet guide me until I’m standing in front of Syn. He looks confused for a second, standing up straight as he sets his mug down. Without words, I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my forehead to his chest.

When he returns my embrace, I exhale, my eyes filling with unexpected tears. Being held by him is so damn good. It’s like medicine for all the broken parts of me. He nuzzles my hair with his lips, and I hold him just a little tighter, inhaling his scent. It’s so unique, like an autumn day maybe—cozy and inviting.

After I don’t know how long, I pull back enough to meet his gaze. The brightness of his eyes makes my breath hitch. They almost seem to glow sometimes, but I’m sure it’s just the way the sunlight is hitting them right now.

Syn brushes a thumb across my cheek, his gaze both comforting and hungry. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him. We’re so close right now, it would take nothing to close the gap between us. Are his lips as soft as they look? Would I like kissing him? Would I be any good at it?

“You’re thinking so hard I can hear your thoughts.”

I huff a soft laugh. “I haven’t been held in a long time. I think I’m noticing how much I like it.”

“It’s no hardship for me. I prefer your closeness over your distance.”

Swallowing hard, I try to push past my insecurity and just kiss the man, but I seem stuck.

“No need to force anything,” Syn says, like he can read my thoughts for real. “I’ll be here as long as you need me to be. There is no pressure.”

Instead of babbling a list of things holding me back, I bury my face in his chest again. He’s muscular but in a lean way, all hard edges, but somehow still soft.

His fingers run through my hair, gently avoiding tangles, and I wonder how such a strong man is capable of such tenderness.

“I need to go meet with my brothers for a bit,” he says, his tone regretful. “Do you work today?”

Stepping back, I nod. “Supposed to, yeah. Not until three.”

Syn’s jaw tenses again, ticking as he nods. “I’ll escort you.”

“I appreciate it, but I can manage on my own.”

“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you need to.”

He cups my chin, tilting my face up. My heart speeds up. Is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to?

“When was the last time you had a protector, Bowie? The last time you knew someone was waiting for you to come home safely?”

I open my mouth to answer, but no words come out.

“You were a child the last time. You’re a man now. A stunning, unbelievably strong man. You can take care of yourself, but right now, you have a protector. You have someone waiting for you to come home safely. I don’t have the ability to step away from you. Please allow me to care about you in my way.”

I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep from crying at his feet. I don’t know how to accept kindness, but fuck, I’m gonna try to learn.

Chapter Twelve

SYN

Leaving Bowie is one of the hardest things I’ve done, but I have a mission to complete now.

Rick Swanson.

Fucker is gonna die today.

Entering the common area, I glance around. It’s empty except for Eros sitting quietly in his favorite armchair, crocheting. The activity keeps his thoughts and impulses at bay. He glances up and nods at me, gesturing to the couch where a passed-out Thorn is.

I nudge Thorn’s leg with my foot and he grunts. “What?”

“Late night?” I tease.

He peels his eyes open, glaring at me. “Aren’t they all?”

“No,” Eros and I reply at the same time.

“You’d think after centuries of debauchery, you’d be tired of it by now,” Eros notes.

“Did Dionysus tire of debauchery? Bacchus? Caligula?” Thorn lifts his head, a smirk on his face. “The Marquis de Sade?”

“Yes, please use the Marquis as your moral guidepost,” Eros deadpans.

I chuckle. “You are the only vampire in existence who indulges enough to feel it the next day.”

Thorn drags a hand through his hair and pulls himself upright. “What is existence for if not to feel it fully?”

I bow my head slightly. “I cannot argue. I do need your assistance though. Are you up for a side project?”

That perks him right up. “Are murder and mayhem involved?”

“Definitely.”

“Just need a few minutes to change.”

“I’ll be with Yves.”

As Thorn takes off to his unit, Eros grins. “Who needs bloody marys for hangover relief when murder exists?”

“Right?”

I head into Yves’s place, looking for Viper or Viv. I need an address. I find both women in Yves’s office, huddled over the computer on his desk.

“Is that a new laptop?” I ask.

Viper glances up and smiles. “It sure is. His was archaic. I’m surprised it still worked.”

“We are archaic and we still work.” I wink. “I need a favor, ladies. I’m looking for a man named Rick Swanson. He lives in or around New Onyx. I know little about him except he is a businessman of some sort and was involved in an assault situation years ago.”

“On it,” Viper says, already clacking at the keyboard.

“Morning.”

I turn to see Yves. “Hey.”

“What’s going on?”

“I asked for an address.” Stepping closer to my friend, I lean in so the women can’t hear me. “Bowie named his abuser. I plan to deliver justice that the system did not.”

“Aw. What a joy it must be to be able to help him in such a tangible way.”

“It is. I have a name to direct my rage over how he’s been treated.”

“One less loser the world won’t miss.”

“Exactly.”

“Got it,” Viper says. “Richard Swanson. Lives in a posh suburb north of the city. He was the victim of assault and a failed mugging attempt. There’s an article on it.”

I walk around the desk and gaze down at the screen. As I read the details of the incident, I know without a doubt this is the man.

“Thank you, Viper.”

“No problem. Sent the address to your phone.”

Just as she says it, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Though Viper looks like someone who would cut your throat and not blink, she smiles sweetly, clearly proud of her work. Vivienne, who’s been silent, simply stares at the woman in awe.

Thorn bursts in the room, dressed in black from head to toe, his long hair tied back in a bun.

“I’m ready.”

“So am I.”

We exit Yves’s place, and I look back at my front door as if expecting Bowie to be there. I didn’t tell him what I was up to, just that I had something to take care of. I’ll tell him once the task is completed.

I press the elevator button for the garage.

“Oh, we’re driving?” Thorn asks.

“He lives outside the city center. In Clearbrook.”

“What did he do?”

“He took advantage of Bowie then played the victim. Bowie ended up serving time because of it.”

A wicked grin spreads across Thorn’s face. “A revenge killing. I like it.”

“Yes.” The door opens and we step on, quietly riding to the lower level. I choose the silver Porsche instead of my preferred Bugatti. The red car draws too much attention. Within minutes, we are speeding north toward Clearbrook.

Apparently Rick Swanson sold his business a few years ago and spends most of his time at home. I hope that’s where I find him today.

“Daytime killing,” Thorn says, rubbing his hands together. “We don’t get to do that much.”

“No, that’s why I asked you to come. No one cleans up a scene like you do.”

Thorn laughs, almost maniacally, as he leans back in his seat. “I love the challenge of it. There’s nothing better than a horrific murder scene without a single clue. Not a hair, not a fingerprint. Nothing but blood, sweet blood.”

Yep. Always bring Thorn when you can.

Thirty minutes later, we pull up in front of a semi-nice upper-middle-class home. The yard is nicely groomed, and there’s even a fence around it. How very idyllic for a monster.

Exiting the car, I glance around, finding an empty neighborhood before I knock on the door. A moment later, a woman answers. She eyes us with a tired, uninterested look, and I can see the beauty she used to be behind the lines etching her face. Someone stole this woman’s joy, and I have an idea who it could have been.

“I’m looking for Richard Swanson. Is he home?”

The woman scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s never home. If you’re another bill collector,” she says, her tone clearly disgusted, “he doesn’t have any money, but you can find him over on Terrace street. He rents an office there. For what, I have no idea.”

“Are you his wife?” Thorn asks.

“Legally, yeah. He spends more time with his whores than me though.”

I see he’s turned over a new leaf over the years. “Terrace street, you say?”

“Unit 115B. Has a sign out front. You won’t miss it.”

“Thanks for your time.” I send a wave of compulsion over her so she forgets our questions. “Sorry to bother you.”

She blinks slowly but nods. “Not a bother. Have a good day.”

After she closes the door, Thorn bumps my arm with his. “I think we’re doing her a favor too.”

“Absolutely. Hope he has life insurance.”

Back in the car, Thorn fiddles with the stereo until it connects to his phone, from which he then proceeds to blare rap music. So much for staying low key.

Thorn shouts out the words to his favorite song, bringing a smile to my face. It is literally impossible not to crack a smile around Thorn.

“There it is,” he says, pointing to his left. “Swanson Consultation Services.”

“Excellent.” I pull into a parallel space right in front of the storefront, cracking my neck back and forth before stepping from the car.

Thorn joins me, knowing without words what his role will be. He comes in behind me. Rage starts to boil inside me again when I allow the memory of Bowie’s broken expression, the shame he still carries, the strained hope that he can really trust me, while he told me his story. My fangs threaten to drop, but I resist. Timing is everything.

I open the door and step inside. It’s a small and dingy space. Clearly a cheap attempt at looking like a legitimate business. A bell jingles as we pass and a door at the back of the room opens. A disheveled man peers out, frowning when he sees us.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his voice gruff.

“Depends,” I answer. “Are you Rick Swanson?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I would answer him if I were you,” Thorn says, grinning.

“Just a second.”

The man I assume is Rick slips back into the room. I hear voices and shuffling around, so without waiting, I invite myself to join him. Inside the dimly lit office is a desk and a beat-up couch. On the couch sits a naked man, and I use that term lightly. I notice the video recorder on the desk. Rick is quickly pulling his pants back on.

“Get the fuck out,” Rick yells.

“How old are you?” I ask the man on the couch.

“Um…” he says, glancing nervously at Rick.

“Don’t answer him,” Rick says. “What the fuck do you guys want?”

“I want you to answer me,” I reply. “Are you Rick Swanson?”

“Yeah. So?”

“The same Rick Swanson who got his ass beat in downtown New Onyx by a man you tried to assault?”

Rick narrows his eyes, and I take him in. Balding, paunchy stomach, ruddy complexion. “The little fuck who tried to mug me, you mean?”

I glance at Thorn who nods, stepping forward to the man on the couch. “How old are you?”

The man, now locked on Thorn’s powerful gaze, answers easily. “Sixteen.”

Boy. Not man.

“You sick fuck,” I growl.

“I didn’t do nothing to him,” Rick says, still defiant in his tone and stance. “H-he said he was eighteen.”

“So much better,” I growl.

“I didn’t touch him,” Rick insists.

“Yet,” Thorn says.

“Did he offer you food? A warm bed?” I ask the boy.

He nods, clutching the clothes Thorn hands him.

“Come on, kid,” Thorn says, helping the boy stand. “You don’t need to see what’s about to happen.”

The boy nods, quickly dressing. He allows Thorn to lead him from the room, only looking back nervously once.

“Now we’re alone, Rick Swanson.”

He moves behind the desk. “Get out.”

“Or what? You’ll call the police? I doubt that.”

“I didn’t do nothing wrong. He came willingly.”

“He is a child. He is vulnerable. But that’s your thing, right? You prey on defenseless people. Or at least those you think are defenseless.” I take a measured step closer. “You thought Bowie was, but he showed you. Nearly killed you.”

His tough-guy demeanor slips as beads of sweat dot his forehead.

“And instead of doing the right thing, you pressed charges. You used your position to walk away from the mess you created.”

His brow creases, the scent of his fear wafting off him.

Thorn returns a moment later, locking the door behind him. Rick swallows hard, his pulse kicking up.

“I got a little money I can give you,” he mutters.

I scoff. “Do I look like I need your money?”

Rick panics, opening a drawer and pulling out a gun. Neither Thorn nor I move as we watch him fumble with the gun.

“I’ll shoot you.”

Thorn sighs loudly. “This is boring me, Syn. Can we kill him now?”

“Not yet, my friend. First, I need you to tell me something, Rick. How many boys have you harmed? How many have you turned to sex work? Molested? Assaulted? How many?”

“I don’t gotta tell you shit.”

Narrowing my eyes, I move so quickly he doesn’t see it happen. On the other side of the desk, I lean in. “Tell me.”

Flustered, he pulls the trigger of his gun, but he’s so shaky, he misses. I take the gun and squeeze it in my hand until it’s nothing but a ball of crumpled metal. Rick is clearly shocked.

“That’s your head next,” Thorn says, chuckling. “Answer the fucking question.”

“I…I don’t know,” he says, clearly afraid now. “I don’t count ’em.”

“Five? Twenty? A hundred? Give me a fucking number, Rick.”

“Maybe, um, maybe like, twenty or twenty-five.”

I nod. “And you prefer them young and pretty, yes? Like the boy who just left?”

His face turns red as he nods. “Yeah.”

“But you have a wife, Rick. Do you have kids?”

“No. She’s got a kid. He’s in college.”

“Did you ever hurt him, Rick?” I ask, glaring at him now. “Did you?”

He’s shaking now as he nods, unable to avoid my gaze.

“Motherfucker,” Thorn whispers. “Now, Syn?”

Cracking my neck again, I step back for a moment, simply to give my rage room to bloom. “Bowie told me what you did to him, Rick. How you ruined his life. Let him go to prison.” I twist to face him again. “Just so you could get off and make money off someone else’s back.”

“Today is payback, you sick piece of shit,” Thorn says, nearly giddy with the promise of violence.

Rick does what anyone in his situation would and makes a run for the door. I laugh, moving swiftly to block his exit before I toss him across the room. As he slumps to the floor, he tries to get back on his feet.

Thorn sits on the couch, crossing his legs with a menacing grin on his face. “I do love watching you work, Syn. So elegant and smooth.”

“What?” Rick asks, alarmed at Thorn’s casual demeanor.

“Look at me, Rick,” I say, lowering my voice. “This is the last face you will ever see.”

With that, I release my fangs and my nails and descend on Rick, ripping his throat open before he can finish his scream. His death will be painful and last as long as possible. I funnel my frustration and helplessness over not being able to help Bowie sooner into it. I channel the rage I feel at pathetic men like this who take advantage of vulnerable people and kids. I release all the anger I feel at a society that allows people like him to live free while Bowie and others like him carry the burden of abuse.

Blood and guts and flesh fly around me as I tear him apart, piece by piece until all that’s left is a shell of what he was. Still, he’s not dead. Dying? Oh yes.

Shallow breaths and a faint heartbeat are all that’s left of his life. I could end his misery, but I have no mercy for people like Rick Swanson. I only left his face intact so that he’ll be identified and all his victims will know they are safe now.

Drenched in blood and gore, my rage finally satiated, I sit on the floor beside his body, waiting for his last breath. When it comes, a sense of relief and pride comes over me.

Thorn stands, clapping slowly. “Impressive. One of your best.”

I laugh, pulling myself up as the haze of destruction finally clears. “I made your task difficult.”

“I know. Is it my birthday?”

“Early Christmas.”

Thorn slaps my shoulder. “Clean yourself up. I’ll take care of this.”

I find a door in the corner of the room that thankfully leads to a tiny bathroom. I wash the blood from my face and hands, pulling a chunk of flesh from my teeth. Now the only thing I want is to see Bowie again.

When I come out, Thorn is nearly finished with any sign that the attack was anything other than a gruesome murder conducted by a mortal. He’s an expert at removing teeth marks and any signs of our supernatural ability. With our super senses, we can detect a single strand of hair left behind.

He stands up after draping the body behind the desk. “Knife-life precision, my friend.”

“I’ve learned well over the years.”

From his pocket, he pulls out a tiny vial. “Viv said a few drops of this would give us an hour of glamour.”

“Perfect.”

The glamour will hide the blood on our clothes from sight. We each take a tiny sip, waiting a minute for it to take hold. Sure enough, we could walk into a church without drawing a second glance.

“That Viv is a talented woman.”

“She sure is,” Thorn agrees. “I gave the boy some money and a dose of compulsion.”

“Excellent.”

Back home, I thank Thorn again before heading straight to my apartment. Bowie is asleep on the couch. He looks so innocent and peaceful, and my chest fills with pride once again that I’m providing this safety for him.

I kneel down, unable to prevent myself from leaning in to smell his hair. I nuzzle my nose against his skin, inhaling a scent better than any blood. His soft breathing warms my face as I stare at the slow, rhythmic pulse of the vein in his neck.

My cock immediately twitches and swells, my body filling with desire to wrap this man in my arms, carry him to my bed, and show him what it means to be cherished. By the gods, I want to taste him on my tongue. I want to kiss every dot of skin, tangling my fingers in his silky hair as I enter his body and own him the way no one ever has or will again as long as I walk the earth.

Is he my fated mate? Will I, after so many years alone, finally understand what love is and why it’s good? Can I love him the way he deserves?

As I drag my fingers down his arm, savoring the smooth flesh, a new emotion washes over me, tugging at my chest—one I’ve not yet experienced and can’t quite name. What it’s called doesn’t matter. I know what it means.

I will never let Bowie go.

Chapter Thirteen

BOWIE

By the time I wake from my nap, the remaining aches I felt are gone, and I stretch my arms out. Sitting up slowly, I’m surprised when I don’t see Syn. Only a second later though, he enters the living room carrying two mugs.

Smiling, he sets one down on the coffee table. “I thought you might like some coffee when you woke up, even though it’s mid-afternoon.”

“How did you know I was waking up?”

“Energy, remember?”

He’s freshly showered, I assume, since his long hair hangs in damp waves around his face. He sits in an armchair across from me and sips his own coffee.

I lift my mug, inhaling the rich scent before taking a sip. “Ooh, so good.”

Syn watches me, a pleased expression on his face. “How do you feel?”

“Great.”

“Good. Your bruises are gone.”

I touch my cheek. “Really? What is that stuff Viv gave me? Magic or something?”

Syn only chuckles, but I notice he doesn’t really answer. “You have to work tonight?”

I nod, the lightness of my mood fading quickly. “Yeah.”

“You can’t call out?”

I scoff. “No way. Stan would lose his shit. God forbid he work in his own bar.”

Syn’s expression hardens but he nods. “I have news for you.”

“Okay.” I sip my coffee, aware of the flutter in my stomach. Because he’s close? Because his expression is oddly dark and mysterious right now?

“I hope you receive this information well,” he continues, making me curious. “I paid a visit to Rick Swanson today.”

My eyes open wide. “Um…what?”

“Rick Swanson. The man who hurt you.”

“How did you…” I shake my head, trying to make it make sense.

“A little research is all it took. I told you what I do for work. I told you that my deeds are not always good, but if I can right the wrongs of injustice, I will.”

“What did you do, Syn?”

He sips his coffee, calmly holding my gaze over his mug. “I murdered him.”

My jaw drops. “You…” My words trail away as I let that sink in. “He’s dead?”

“Oh, he is very, very dead.” Syn sets his cup down on the end table and moves like a flower petal on a breeze, so soft and quick I barely notice the movement until he’s sitting beside me. “I am so glad you told me about him. We found him in the process of hurting another young boy.”

That news makes me flinch. “What was he doing?”

Syn shakes his head. “I can only imagine his intentions, but he had a camera and a naked minor in his office. We showed up just in time.”

My stomach turns. “Fuck.”

“It enrages me, Bowie, that people like him cause so much damage without consequence. Today, I did karma’s job.”

“You…you, um, you killed him?”

“Violently.”

I stand abruptly as it finally sinks in. Rick Swanson ruined an already difficult life and made it that much harder for me to survive. He walked away unscathed while I did time. I’ve lived in fear of running into him again, afraid of what I would do if I had the chance, and now he’s gone. Syn fixed it.

“I hope you’re not afraid of me,” Syn says. “I would never hurt you. I would never allow anyone to hurt you.”

Turning to face him, I nod. “I know. I’m not afraid of you, Syn. I’m…” I drag a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. Shocked, I guess, but like, in a good way. No one cares about me. Not since my folks…” I squeeze my eyes shut and blow out a breath. “Thank you.”

I sit down next to him again.

“You seriously just gave me so much peace.”

Syn’s expression softens. “That was the goal.” He reaches for my hand and I let him take it, my breath catching at how the slight touch makes me feel all twisty inside. “I want you to know something, Bowie.”

I nod, gazing into his eyes.

“If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they will have to deal with me. That includes your uncle.”

I flinch when he says that. “You can’t hurt Stan. He’s a dick, yeah, but Nelly wouldn’t be okay. There’s no money, and he won’t let her work. She’d have to struggle.”

Syn tilts his head slightly, lifting his hand to stroke my hair. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, and I end up pressing my forehead to his shoulder.

“I would not cause Nelly suffering. Don’t worry, Bowie. Just know that I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

Scooting closer, I wrap my arms around his waist, craving more connection, more touch. Syn holds me close, pulling me until I’m almost on his lap, his hands rubbing soft circles up and down my back. It’s so comforting, my eyes sting from the tears threatening to fall. I can’t remember the last time I received a gentle touch, but it was probably from my mom.

After a moment, I pull back and just look at the man in front of me. He holds my gaze, his eyes intense and striking in their color. Before I can overthink it, I lean in and press my lips to his.

Syn doesn’t react at first, and I worry that I fucked up, but before I can pull back, Syn wraps his arms around me again and returns my kiss, his warm tongue playing with the seam of my closed lips.

I open my mouth slightly as insecurity grips me, but Syn takes charge, absorbing me into his kiss so deeply, I have no room to doubt myself.

As he explores my mouth, I yield to him, noting how nice this feels. Tingles run through me, my skin prickling with goosebumps, my stomach doing backflips as Syn tangles his fingers in my hair, pulling me even closer.

Without holding myself back, I climb into his lap completely, straddling him until our chests are pressed together and the ridge of his erection presses into my thigh. I gasp, and Syn deepens the kiss even more, until I practically melt in his arms.

I reach up, dragging my fingers through his still damp hair, and he moans. It sounds as good as it feels vibrating through me. The longer we kiss, the more it affects me. My own dick swells and thickens in my underwear, a reaction I’m not used to.

For years I wondered if I even had a sex drive. In prison I would hear the guys talking about jerking off in the shower or engaging in sex with each other, but I never even felt the urge. But right now, writhing on Syn’s lap, I know for sure that I have a sex drive and it’s got Syn’s name written all over it.

He moves from my mouth to my neck, but his kisses are gentle and sweet. What a contrast. The man just told me he violently murdered a predator, but with me, he’s as gentle as a kitten. Something tells me he’s holding back for my benefit. What would he be like if he let loose?

Syn’s arms come around my back and hold me to him again, so I bury my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the fresh scent of soap mixed with something else. Earthy, sensual, the way I imagine fancy red wine smells. He continues rubbing my back as I cling to him like a monkey.

The alarm on my phone breaks my reverie. I don’t know how much time has passed with me in his arms, but it’s not long enough. Reluctantly, I sit back a little.

“You set the bar for kisses pretty damn high.”

Syn smiles softly, his eyes roaming over my face. “What a gift. Thank you for allowing it.”

“I wanted it, Syn. I want…” The words fall away.

“We have time,” he says, gently reassuring me. “No rush. No pressure. I’m honestly happy just to have you in my arms.”

“You mean that, don’t you?”

“I will never lie to you, Bowie.”

“I believe you. Uh, I have to get ready for work.”

Syn frowns, but nods, letting me slide off his lap. I immediately look down, biting my bottom lip when I see the bulge in his jeans. Dude, same.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“No, I’m okay.”

“I’ll go with you and I’ll be there to pick you up.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re not close to your old neighborhood. I insist. Besides, I want to.”

“Cool. Okay.”

I head down the hall for a quick shower and a change of clothes. Once I’m finished, I find Syn in the living room, now with a trench coat and boots on. Damn, he’s hot. And he likes me. He kissed me! Gah, It’s like I’m a whole new person with emotions and desires. I’ve been numb for so long.

Once we’re in the car though, that feeling fades the closer we get to the bar. I’m not looking forward to seeing my uncle. I never am. I’m so tempted to hide out at Syn’s, but then what? I can’t just mooch off the guy forever. I need to earn my place in life. I just have no idea how to level up.

Syn’s hand moves over mine, squeezing gently, almost as if he can hear my inner turmoil. Maybe I’m giving off bad vibes that he can sense.

We pull up in front of the bar and my stomach turns just looking at what was normal for me two days ago. Yeah, this bar is a dive.

“We can turn around,” Syn says softly. “I can take you away from this.”

“I know.” I blow out a slow breath. “But I need to do this.”

He nods, his jaw tense. “What time will you be done?”

“We close at midnight. Takes me about thirty minutes after that.”

“Okay.” He brushes his fingers under my chin. “I respect you a great deal, Bowie. Your sense of loyalty, even to those undeserving, is admirable.”

“It’s for Nelly. Not Stan.”

“I understand.” Leaning in, Syn presses a kiss to my cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.” I step out of his fancy car, standing on the sidewalk for a second, torn between two worlds. One life is full of suffering and trauma. The other is a fresh start with a man who wants me. A man I know I can trust. Even if he is a killer.

Syn waits for me to unlock the door and enter the bar before he drives off. Inside, the lights are still off and the chairs on the tables. I get busy setting up, wondering why it’s so quiet. Stan is usually in the back by now, but I don’t think he’s here.

After I get the front set up, I go in back, pausing outside Stan’s office as I hear rustling inside. The lights are still off. What if someone broke in? Looking around, I reach out and grab a knife off the counter, holding it up as I sneak closer to Stan’s office.

From where I stand, I can peer inside without opening the door more. I relax when I see Stan bent over a desk, but when I see what he’s doing, I tense up again.

On his desk are bags of what look like some kind of powdery substance. Drugs, maybe? There’s an open duffle bag with cash in it, and I watch as Stan stuffs some of the bags into the duffle bag and then pushes it into a hole in the wall before shoving a filing cabinet in front of it.

I step away from the door, put the knife away, and flick on the kitchen lights so he knows I’m here. He comes out, his face red, his demeanor shifty.

“Hey.”

Stan grunts in reply. “I’m going out.”

I shrug while I grab a bucket from under the sink to fill up with soapy water.

“Uh, if anyone comes in asking for me, tell them I’m out of town until Monday.”

I turn to look at him. “Are you out of town until Monday?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid.”

He twists around to go back into his office, and I spot the handgun tucked into the back of his pants. Shaking my head, I narrow my eyes at him when he comes out again, carrying another small bag.

“Did you get into trouble again?”

Stan gives me a hard look. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I don’t? Tell that to my dead parents.”

Stan’s face reddens even more. “Fuck you, Bowie. I didn’t do nothing to them.”

Biting my tongue, I squeeze the edge of the stainless-steel counter. It’s all I can do not to kick his fucking ass. He needs it bad. Gah, with one word I could sic Syn on him, but I can’t leave Nelly hanging like that, even though she’d probably be better off without him.

“Just do as you’re told,” Stan says, smacking the back of my head as he passes me. “Nick is cooking tonight.”

I nod, seething as he walks out. At least I don’t have to deal with his attitude all night. I walk up front to clean the tables, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is off. If Stan is up to his old tricks again, Nelly could be in trouble. I’m not letting what happened to my parents happen to her too, but what can I do? If I tell Syn, he might do something crazy.

Maybe that’s exactly what I need to do.

Chapter Fourteen

SYN

Thorn lands softly beside me, sitting down and nudging me with his elbow. “You know you look ridiculous lurking in the dark to stalk your crush.”

“I don’t give a fuck what I look like as long as Bowie is safe.”

Thorn studies my face for a second. “You’ve fallen for him already?”

Shaking my head, I try to find the words to describe how I feel. “It’s not that simple.”

Seconds later, Midnight joins the two of us. We’re perched on the roof of a building across the alleyway from the bar where Bowie works.

“Are we having a party?” Midnight asks, sitting slightly between and behind me and Thorn.

“A very boring one,” Thorn answers.

“I didn’t invite either of you to join me, so feel free to leave.”

“We’re stalking Syn’s man,” Thorn says.

“Ooh, cool. I love stalking.”

“I’m so glad you two find this amusing, but Bowie could be in real danger. His uncle is a loose cannon, and I don’t need to tell either of you what kind of neighborhood this is.”

“His uncle?” Midnight asks.

“Owns the bar,” I explain. “I don’t know the full story yet, but there’s some kind of backstory that keeps Bowie here. He’s concerned for his aunt too.”

“Concerned how?” Thorn asks.

“Nelly relies on Stan, the uncle, financially because he won’t let her work.”

“So he’s a controlling piece of shit?” Midnight asks.

“Pretty much, yeah. I almost took him out the first time I met him, and then Bowie dropped their relationship on me, so I backed off. I haven’t decided if I’m going to stay away yet.”

“Is he in there now?” Midnight asks.

“Yeah. His car is out back.”

Just then the back door of the bar opens and Stan comes out, glancing around the alley nervously before hurrying to his car. He’s clutching a duffle bag to his chest.

“Is that him?” Midnight asks.

“Yep.”

“I’ll follow him. See what he’s up to.”

“I appreciate that.”

Midnight shrugs. “Gives me something to do. Quiet night.”

With that, he takes off, jumping from one building to another until he drops out of sight.

“Did you have a job tonight?” I ask Thorn.

“Yeah. Wicked easy one. We finally got the green light on that pedo we were told about two months ago. The one who lawyered up and got off on a technicality.”

“Ah yeah?”

“Yep. Our client found out he was back at it. Wait till the world wakes up tomorrow to find out the rich little sicko swallowed a bottle of opioids. You should have smelled the fear pouring off him as I made him write his own suicide note. Delicious.”

“You didn’t taste him though?”

“Nah. You know I don’t drink from people like that. I don’t want that energy stuck on me.”

“Don’t blame you.”

Thorn has always been more sensitive to the lingering memories and energies of our victims. That’s why he indulges so much. He can pick up on substances more than the rest of us too.

“But it was fun waking him up every time he passed out,” Thorn continues. “I wanted him to feel himself dying. I wanted him to suffer.”

I pat my friend’s back. “He deserved it.”

“Yeah. I wish we could just wipe them all out. Fuck trials and bullshit. Putting victims through it all over again.”

“I wonder if there is a sense of closure knowing their abuser is dead versus allowing the justice system to dole out its punishments.”

“I pick dead. They never get enough time. Never.”

“I agree.”

“Anyway.” Thorn grins. “Tell me more about Bowie. Why are you so into him? I mean, besides the obvious.”

“And what is the obvious?”

“He’s hot.”

An unintended growl rumbles out of me and Thorn chuckles.

“Settle down, Syn. You know I wouldn’t even look at him for too long, but I’d have to be a blind man not to notice his looks.”

“I didn’t mean to react that way. It was instinct.” Rubbing my forehead, I glance at Thorn. “Yves has a theory. A life-altering one.”

Thorn’s expression perks up. “Ooh. Tell me.”

“His theory is that Bowie could be my fated mate.”

Thorn’s face goes blank for a second until his eyes widen and his mouth drops open. “No way.” He slaps my arm. “Dude. A fated mate?”

I nod, trying to hold back the swirl of hope threatening to burst from my chest. “Can you imagine? A lover fate chose just for you?”

“Whoa. That is major. Kind of explains a lot, right?”

“Right. It is almost painful to be away from him. We kissed earlier and…” I exhale at the memory. “It was so much more than just an ordinary kiss. Sure, I felt it in my body, but it was deeper. I felt it in my soul, Thorn.”

His face softens as he smiles. “I’m so happy for you. Other than Yves, oh and Eros, I think you deserve it the most.”

I chuckle. “It is odd that fate would pick me first, but Yves had a thought about that too. What if fate chose Bowie? He deserves love and safety and affection. I’m just the lucky bastard who gets to give it to him.”

“Win-win though, right?”

“Right.”

I stare ahead as three customers leave the bar.

“But something bothers you?” Thorn asks.

“He doesn’t know what I am. He knows what I do, what we all do, but he doesn’t know what we are. I can’t stop thinking about what happened with Midnight when he revealed himself to a mortal.”

“That was completely different, Syn. They weren’t that close, and it was a shock how it happened. You told Bowie we’re killers?”

“Yeah.”

“And he was fine with that?”

I nod. “He was, yeah.”

“That’s a damn good start. My advice, for what it’s worth, would be to take it slowly. Make sure the bond is real, and if he really is your fated mate, he’ll accept what you are. That’s kind of how it works, I’ve heard.”

“Since when are you the one with reasonable advice?”

Thorn laughs. “Don’t tell the others. You’ll ruin my reputation.” He puts his arm around my shoulders. “I am happy for you though. You have a bigger heart than you let on.”

“Don’t tell the others.”

We laugh at that.

Thorn stands, brushing off his leather pants. “I’m off. I need an after-dinner snack.”

He salutes me as he leaps from the building to the ground before walking quickly into the night.

My attention shifts back to the bar. At least I know Stan isn’t in there harassing Bowie.

Several hours pass as I watch the activity in this part of the city. I’ve watched it go from a nice, clean neighborhood that was safe and filled with families and family-owned businesses, to a drug-infested and crime-ridden area. Drug addicts and their dealers occupy the sidewalks, sex workers linger at the corners in front of boarded up storefronts. Houses that were once new and idyllic are abandoned or rundown now.

And my Bowie lives here. Well, he used to live here. Whether he’s my fated mate or not, he’s not going back to squatting in an abandoned house. Not on my watch. No fucking way.

A few minutes later, Midnight climbs the building, plopping down beside me again.

“I don’t think you’re gonna like this,” he says.

“What?”

“That dude, Stan, he’s in over his head. I followed him.”

“And?”

“He’s doing business with Dimitri Santino”

My eyes widen. “What? No.”

Midnight nods. “I saw him, Syn. He delivered a bag, but he must’ve fucked up somehow, because he got roughed up pretty good.”

“Fuck. This is not good. Santino has no problem taking out family to make a point.”

“Right. I don’t know how some small-time hustler with a shitty bar gets on Santino’s radar, but here we are.”

“Bowie made a comment about his uncle’s business dealings being shady, but this is next level. I imagine Stan doesn’t even know what he’s dealing with.”

“And you know the pattern with Santino and his gang. Three strikes and you’re out. I’d say Stan just got one strike based on what I saw.”

Fear grips my chest, not only for Bowie, but for Nelly. Dimitri and his goons have no problem killing women. They are ruthless and feared even by other organized crime families.

“Fucking Mafia,” I murmur.

“The most powerful and dangerous in the US,” Midnight adds.

“As if I wasn’t already insane with the need to protect Bowie. Now I know my fear isn’t unfounded.”

Midnight grips my shoulder. “We could handle Dimitri if we had to. You know that. We’ve just never had to deal with them.”

I nod, exhaling slowly. “Right. You’re right. I just need to figure out how to handle this, because if Stan fucks up…I don’t even want to imagine it.”

“You’re not alone, Syn. You have us. We won’t let anything happen to Bowie or his aunt.”

As my thoughts swirl, I nod. I’ll figure it out, and together with my brothers, we’ll keep Bowie and Nelly safe. We have to.

I don’t think I could ever be happy again if something happened to him.

Chapter Fifteen

BOWIE

It’s a slow night, which is both good and bad. I don’t have to deal with too many customers tonight, but the time drags. I have to admit, I’m thinking a lot about Syn and that kiss. I wonder if he’ll give me another one.

I kick the back door open with my foot to carry out the two bags of trash in my hands, quickly overcome by the feeling of being watched. Pausing on the steps, I glance around the darkened alleyway. Normally, I don’t even pay attention to what’s going on out here. There’s always something: a drug deal, sex, violence. None of my business. But tonight, as goosebumps pop up on my arms, I can’t ignore the feeling. I hurry up and drop the bags in the dumpster, anxious to get back inside.

“Bowie.”

I startle but relax when Syn steps out from the shadows.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “I still have an hour.”

“I was in the area. Figured I’d just hang out.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lift an eyebrow. “Just in the area?”

He chuckles, actually looking a little sheepish. “Fine. I was keeping an eye on things. I don’t like this area.”

“Who does?” I pull open the door. “Come in. Have a shitty drink.”

Syn nods, following me inside and through the kitchen. His expression is tight as his eyes dart around the place. He can be so intense sometimes.

In the main part of the bar, he sits down, still casing the place. I make him a gin and tonic, remembering his preference from our first meeting.

“Is Stan here?” he asks.

“Nope. He left a while ago.” I set the drink in front of him, bouncing around the idea of sharing what I saw earlier. “Um, can I tell you something kind of wild and you stay cool about it?”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, nothing like that. Just something I saw, but I don’t want you to run out and do anything about it.”

The corners of his mouth turn up slightly. “I will try to stay cool, but if you are in any kind of danger, don’t count on it.”

“I’m not. I’m a little worried about Nelly though.” I lean on the counter, balanced on my folded arms. “Stan was acting shifty. More than usual.”

Syn nods, lifting his glass to take a sip.

“I saw him with some bags that looked like, I don’t know, maybe crack or coke. He had a lot of cash and a gun. I don’t know what he’s up to, but it isn’t good.”

Syn narrows his eyes. “He had that stuff here?”

I nod. “Yeah. He said if anyone came in looking for him, to tell them he was out of town until Monday. He wouldn’t tell me if that was true or not.”

“Is there more?”

“Yeah. He shoved a bag in the wall behind his filing case.”

“Where? In his office?”

“Yeah.”

Syn is up and out of his seat before I even blink, moving through the bar so quickly I have to jog to catch up.

“What if he comes back, Syn?”

“I’m not even remotely worried about Stan.”

Nick glances at Syn and me as we traipse through the kitchen, and as Syn glares, I give Nick what I hope is a reassuring smile. Syn bursts into the office, looking around the small, dingy space, zeroing in on the filing cabinet.

He pushes it out of the way easily, revealing the hole. As he bends down to retrieve the bag, I peer out the door to make sure Stan isn’t coming.

“Fuck,” Syn says.

I turn around to see the contents of the bag. Definitely drugs. Lots of cash.

“Is he dealing?” I ask.

“Or stealing,” Syn answers. “Either way, not good. I’ve never known a reasonable cartel leader.”

“How do you know it’s that?”

“Look at the amounts. This isn’t small-time hustler stuff.”

I nod, biting my bottom lip. “Listen, Syn, I don’t care what happens to Stan. He can burn in hell as far as I’m concerned, but I told you how dependent Nelly is on his income. Even if it is paltry.”

Syn puts his hands on my shoulder. “And you need to understand that nothing will happen to you or Nelly as long as I’m in your life, and I plan to be here for a very long time.” His brow creases. “I need to tell you something, Bowie.”

Before he can continue, Nick rings the bell to get my attention.

“Customer. I gotta take care of it. We can talk later.”

Syn nods. “I’ll put this away.”

I hurry to the front and close out the tab for two guys, then grab a couple more drinks for one of the other tables. Syn hasn’t reappeared, but as the door opens and I get a sudden rush of customers, I have to focus on taking care of them.

Once last call is over and customers are emptying out, I peek in the back to see what Syn is up to. I find him talking to Nick, the silent but efficient cook. Nick is staring at Syn as if he’s in some kind of trance, but then Syn waves his hand in the air and Nick blinks, a slightly dazed look on his face.

“Hey, Bow,” Nick says before turning around to clean his workstation.

“Hey.” I look at Syn. “Everything good?”

“Very. Are you ready to leave?”

“Gotta close up.”

“I’ll wait with you.”

Syn follows me and sits at the bar again, casually looking at his phone while he waits. A sudden and pressing realization hits me. I need to tell Syn what went down with my folks and Stan. I fucking hate talking about it, but Syn needs to know what kind of dudes Stan fucks with.

After I lock the doors, Syn leads me to his car, parked just down the street. He opens my door for me, and I slide in, still filled with anxiety about broaching the subject.

“Your energy has shifted,” Syn says after joining me in the car. “Did something upset you?”

“Not exactly, no.” I pick at a cuticle. “Uh, I want to tell you something, but I need to sort of pump myself up for it. I haven’t talked about it in a long time. Maybe ever.”

Syn takes my hand in his, the gentleness of his touch both reassuring and grounding. “Is it related to Stan?”

I nod, blinking away the sting of tears. “You should know.”

“Do you want to go home first, or should we talk here?”

“Home is good.” I brush the tears off my cheeks. “Your home.”

Syn’s eyes soften. “It’s your home too. I meant what I said. You’re under no obligation to provide romantic or physical attention to me to stay there.”

“I know. This is all just a lot.”

He nods. “Home.”

As he drives us out of the shitty neighborhood and across town to the much nicer one, I give in to the memory of the trauma from one really bad night years ago. The prison therapist told me that feeling it would help contain my rage, but man does it suck.

When Syn pulls into the underground garage of his building, my panic kicks up even more, my nervous system doing its best to defend against the onslaught of emotion flooding my system. Syn, obviously aware of my racing thoughts, handles me gently, holding my hand as he leads me inside the building.

The elevator ride to his apartment is silent, but his strong presence beside me is comforting. The doors open to the common area, which is thankfully empty. By the time my butt hits the sofa in Syn’s apartment, I’m shaking with the knowledge that I’m going to talk about the most painful moment of my life. Worse than prison. Worse than homelessness. Worse than anything.

“Do you need a drink? A cup of tea?” Syn asks, concern etched on his features.

I shake my head. “No. I think I’d just rather get it out.”

“I’m listening.”

It takes me another minute or two to find the courage to start speaking, but I have a feeling once I do, it’s all going to tumble out, broken heart and all, for Syn to see.

“It started when I was probably around fourteen or fifteen,” I begin, focusing on anything but the kindness in Syn’s eyes. I want to climb into his lap and beg him to kiss away all the pain, but I know that’s not how it works.

“My dad got laid off from the job he’d had for twenty years. The factory closed up shop and moved to Philly, but they laid off a lot of employees. Only took management with them.”

I scoot back against the cushions, staring down at my lap as I speak.

“He struggled to find a good job again. He was just a blue-collar dude trying to take care of his family, you know? I knew it was an issue. I could feel the stress growing between my folks. I tried to hide it from my younger sister as much as I could.”

Syn touches my leg gently, as if to remind me he’s still close, but I know that. His closeness is giving me the strength to get through this.

“Then Stan started hanging around more. My folks were inviting him over for dinner and they would have talks we kids weren’t allowed to hear. Stan and my mom always had a strained relationship. He’s always been the kind of guy looking for the next get-rich-quick scheme, and I guess when I was younger, he had gotten them into some financial issues too. But my dad was getting desperate.”

I force my eyes up to find Syn watching me with gentle concern on his face. He nods to encourage me.

“I didn’t know at the time that they’d agreed to join Stan in this deal he was working on. An investment opportunity he called it, for some real estate flipping. Dad went out and got his license and handed over everything he had in savings to Stan. Of course, they should have known the deal was a bad one. The supposed investor skipped town and took all of Stan’s and my dad’s money with him. We had nothing left. Nothing. That was my dad’s last-ditch effort to get back on his feet and it failed. Stan failed us.”

My stomach turns queasy as I draw my knees up to my chest, rocking slowly as visions of that night flash through my mind.

“Do you need to take a break?” Syn asks.

I shake my head. “I have to keep going.”

Syn nods, still stroking my hand. It’s a good reminder that these are just memories. The horror of it is over.

“Dad panicked,” I continue. “We were in danger of losing everything. The house, our cars, everything. Then one night, I guess he just snapped. I woke up to the sound of gunshots, and by the time I got out of bed and ran to see what was happening, he had already shot my mom and sister. He killed them.”

A deep, painful sob barrels out of me, taking my breath away for a second, until I push through it enough to keep going. Rocking back and forth, the memories rush back. The smell of gunpowder, the shock of what was happening.

“I tried to get the gun from him, but he was determined to end everything that night. The last thing I remember is being shoved against a wall and the pain of a bullet piercing my skin. My dad shot me.”

“All the gods,” Syn whispers.

“As I lost consciousness, I saw him turn the gun on himself. I watched my dad blow his own brains out, then I blacked out. I thought I was dead.” Shaking my head, I wipe my tear-stained cheeks.

“Bowie…”

“I woke up in a hospital bed. My mom and dad were dead. My sister held on for three days but then she died from her injuries. I was the only survivor.”

“I have no words,” Syn murmurs.

“And then I found out from Nelly that Stan was missing. He turned up two weeks later, as if nothing had happened. He didn’t tell me he was sorry. Didn’t offer any help. Nothing.” I shrug. “It didn’t matter anyway. I didn’t want anything to do with him, and he knew it. I wanted to kill him, and the only thing that has stopped me all these years was finding out what prison was like. He wasn’t worth more prison time.”

“He wasn’t there for you?”

I scoff. “Not even kind of. Nelly insisted I be allowed to come in and shower sometimes. She gave me food, and when he wasn’t home, I could hang out with her. She’s a good person, and I have no idea why she stays with Stan.”

“What changed? You work for him now.”

“After prison, I couldn’t find anyone who would hire me. Nelly basically intervened and demanded Stan give me a job. I think he said yes out of guilt, even though he continues to defend himself and insist he had nothing to do with my dad just up and deciding to murder his family one day.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Syn says, darkly.

My stomach flutters, not with fear, but something much more primal.

“I was afraid to tell you because I don’t know what Nelly would do if something happened to Stan.”

“But you decided to tell me.”

“Because of what we found today. He’s doing something real bad this time. I’m scared someone is going to get hurt. I’m afraid for Nelly.”

Syn exhales, nodding. “I think it’s time I tell you what we learned about Stan tonight.”

“I have a feeling it’s just as bad as I think it is.”

Syn brushes his fingers across my cheek. “It’s very bad, but remember, you’re safe with me and I’ll figure out how to keep Nelly safe too. I promise you.”

I’ve had a lot of promises made to me over the years, almost all of them broken, but something about the way he’s looking at me right now settles my emotions and calms my heartbeat. I believe him. I don’t know why he wants me like he does, but maybe it’s just my turn to have a little happiness. Maybe I have a chance to turn things around.

Syn twists his neck back and forth before fixing his intense gaze on me. I know whatever he’s about to tell me is going to be bad, but I’m clinging to his promise.

Please, don’t let him break it.

Chapter Sixteen

SYN

I’m going to twist Stan’s head right off his fucking neck.

Watching Bowie relive the pain of what happened to his family was beyond difficult, and holding back my fangs is nearly impossible.

“We found out Stan is dealing with the mafia. Two families possibly.”

Bowie’s mouth falls open. “Shit.”

“Yes. The extent of his involvement isn’t clear, but he’s in trouble.”

Bowie’s face goes pale and he looks as if he could be sick.

“How can I help you right now, Bowie?”

He lifts his face to me, his eyes full of hurt and vulnerability. “Can you hold me? I really like it.”

I open my arms and he clambers onto my lap, wrapping his long legs around me and laying his head on my shoulder. His closeness soothes the potion of anger and rage deep within me, but draws the attention of my beast in a different way.

Bowie smells so good. Sweet. As he nuzzles my neck with his soft lips, I slip my hands under his shirt, delighting in the warmth of his flesh. He presses into me even more, until our bodies are nearly combined as one.

My desire for him grows the more he clings to me, and though I can’t think of anything more I’d like to do but bite into him, he needs comfort now. Closing my eyes, I attempt to placate my lust by inhaling his scent and dragging my fingers up and down his back.

After a moment, Bowie pulls back, fixing his big, sad eyes on my face. He doesn’t speak at first, merely searching my face, but when his plush lips part, tempting me to swallow his words, he lifts his hand and strokes my cheek.

I wait for his next move, giving him space to do what he wants. In the blink of an eye, he falls forward, pressing his lips to mine. As I open up to him, it unleashes something within him and he hungrily returns the kiss. His kiss is far from tentative this time. No. It’s passionate, almost desperate.

Bowie claws at my shoulders, attempting to wrap himself around me as much as physically possible, grinding his erection against mine. He moans softly, nipping at my bottom lip. Sliding my hands to his ass, I squeeze through his jeans, desperate to touch him naked.

“Syn,” Bowie whispers against my lips. “Take me to bed. Please.”

The beast in me pushes forward, my fangs throbbing for release, as I hold him tightly to me. “You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want this. So much.”

I grip his chin, holding his gaze. “Are you certain?”

He nods, unblinking. “Positive. Please, Syn.”

I stand, scooping him into my arms, buoyed by his need for me. “Do you understand that anything you want from me I will give you?”

He nods, smiling just slightly. “I’m learning that.”

“Do you understand why?”

His expression falters. “Not really, but I’m trying to just accept it.”

That won’t do. It’s my new official purpose in life to show Bowie how worthy he is. Instead of words he has to choose to believe, I’ll let my actions speak for me. He won’t be able to ignore those.

Carrying him down the hall to my bedroom, my mind races with all the things I have yet to reveal to him. My nature, the fact that we may be fated mates, what it takes to become a vampire mate. So many things he may or may not accept, but I can’t let those thoughts worry me. Tonight is about two men expressing their feelings and desires through physical touch.

I set Bowie down on the bed, but as I try to back up, he clings to my shirt, pulling me between his legs until our lips crash together again. He clings to me like an octopus, attacking my mouth with feverish passion, as if he literally cannot stop himself.

Tugging on his clothes, I manage to get his shirt over his head before pulling my own off. Apparently, my bare chest does something for Bowie, who grinds his hips into me, seeking the delicious tension that only two hard cocks create.

With one hand, I yank his jeans open and reach inside his underwear, grasping a handful of hot flesh. He arches his back, moaning as his nails dig into my forearms. As I squeeze his cock in my hand, Bowie moans, tugging his jeans off as best he can while keeping our lips connected.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” I murmur, nipping at his neck. “I want to worship every inch of your flesh, climb inside your body and live there.”

“No slow,” he whimpers, bucking his hips into my touch. “Want you so much.”

Closing in on his delicious mouth again, I sink into his kiss, managing to get my jeans off so that we’re both completely naked and pressed together. I force my hands from his body to his silky hair, tangling my fingers in it as I kiss him as deeply as possible.

He’s so pliable in my arms, so trusting, having no idea at all about the beast I’m hiding inside me. By the time I reveal myself, he’ll know he is safe with me.

“Please, Syn,” Bowie whimpers.

Hooking my arm under his knee, I pull it up so our cocks meet, and grind against him, my precum easing the friction between us. The heat combined with his natural scent wafting up between us is heady, like the strongest drug.

I’m torn between dragging my tongue over every inch of him and making him mine in the truest of senses. As I’m reminded of his previously untouched nature, I opt for a pleasurable but less invasive lovemaking session.

Grinding my cock into his, I reach behind him and squeeze his lovely ass, kneading the flesh apart as I tickle his entrance with my index finger. Bowie nearly falls apart from my touch, gasping and gazing up at me with wide eyes.

“I won’t hurt you,” I whisper.

“I know,” he says, lighting me up.

I never knew having someone’s trust could be such an aphrodisiac, but now that I do, I’m positive it’s going to be my new addiction.

“Syn,” Bowie moans, arching his back and opening his legs wider.

I burrow my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling and fighting off the urge to bite as my mouth waters with yearning. I could, of course, take a small taste and use compulsion to erase the memory, but I will never take advantage of him. No. When and if I do taste his essence, it will be with his full awareness and consent.

Even with that in mind, I can’t stop myself from sucking his neck over his throbbing vein. Bowie digs his fingers into my shoulders, completely yielding to me. I suck hard enough to get a hint of the metallic coppery taste of his blood, knowing I’ll leave a mark on his flesh, and the very thought of it sends me soaring as cum pulses through me, spilling between us.

“Oh god.” Bowie moans, joining me in my release as he rubs against me, hot, thick liquid sticking our bodies together. “Syn!”

“I got you, sweetheart. Let yourself go. I won’t let you fall.”

His body shakes against mine as his orgasm goes on and on. Bowie’s face is a mask of awe, and as tears stream down his cheeks, I brush his hair from his face.

“I have never seen anything more beautiful than this.”

Breathing hard, Bowie eventually trades his tears for laughter, shaking his head gently as he rubs his eyes. “I can’t believe I thought I wasn’t into sex.”

Dotting his face with kisses, I laugh softly. “You were too busy to seek carnal pleasure, but that’s over now.”

His smile fades as he searches my eyes. “Is it?”

I nod, lifting his hand to my lips to press a kiss against his palm. “I am yours, Bowie, and you are mine. You will never suffer with me by your side.”

“You’d kill someone if they hurt me, wouldn’t you?”

“Without hesitation.”

“Um, why again? Because I’m pretty?”

“No, Bowie, not because you’re pretty. Because you’re everything. Your soul is what mine has been searching for without me even knowing it. Your presence soothes me, and now that I know you, I would never let harm come to you. Even if you didn’t want me, I would still protect you.” I rub my thumb over the tender spot on his neck that is quickly turning red and purple. “I have marked you.”

He touches the spot too, a smile growing on his lips. “I think I like wearing your mark. It feels incredible that a man like you would want me.”

“I more than want you, Bowie. I…” I stop myself before I blurt things out. He needs time to accept our relationship and deal with getting his life stable. “Please just believe me.”

“I do.” Cupping my cheek, he smiles. “Sometimes your eyes are so intense they look like they’re glowing. I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s clean up real quick and then get you into bed.” I grin. “For sleep this time.”

“Sounds good.” He hops out of bed, gazing down at his cum-stained torso. His smile grows as he drags his hand through it. “I’ve had real sex. You were worth the wait.”

“So were you, Bowie.”

As he heads to the bathroom, I hang back a second, rubbing my forehead. I have to find a way to disclose what I am, and soon. It’s not fair to woo his heart without him having full knowledge.

I just have to believe he’ll accept me. If he’s truly my fated mate, he’ll understand. That’s how it works, right?

Chapter Seventeen

BOWIE

When I wake up, the sun is streaming in through the drapes, but Syn isn’t here. I was kind of getting used to him watching over me as I slept, so it’s kind of a bummer he isn’t here.

I force myself out of bed and grab a pair of sweatpants to put on, then head to the kitchen for coffee. The house is completely silent. I find a note by the coffee machine.

Bowie,

I’ll be back shortly. Quick meeting with Yves. Make yourself at home and feel free to come to the common area if you wish.

All my love,

Syn.

All my love? There’s no way he means that literally, but just imagining that he could makes my stomach do flips. No one has loved me in a long time. I know my mom and my sister did. In some ways, I believe my dad did what he did out of love. He didn’t want us to suffer. Nelly is fond of me, but I don’t think it’s love. Not the kind I need.

But could Syn love me? That would be so badass. A guy like him, who’s strong and powerful, who’s able to protect me and comfort me when I need it, who cares about my wellbeing and happiness? Well, that’s a game changer.

After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I take the time alone to explore a little more. I’ve limited myself to the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen mostly. It didn’t feel right to go anywhere else without him knowing, but he said in the note I could make myself at home, and curiosity is a thing, so I wander down the hall to see what other rooms he has.

Next to the powder room is a closed door. It’s adjacent to the primary bedroom, and I assume it’s a second bedroom, but then why did Syn put me up in his room if he had an extra one?

Tentatively, I open the door to find what I would describe as a study or even a library. By the window is an oversized desk made of wood. The legs are enormous and intricate, with fleur-de-lis carved into the top of each one. It looks very old.

On one of the walls there are rows of bookcases from the ceiling to the floor, lined with more books than I’ve ever seen in one space outside of a traditional library. I step closer, my gaze roaming the titles and spines. Some of them look very old, and I wonder if he’s a collector.

After spending time looking through the books, I twist around to the other wall. On it are dozens of photographs and even a few paintings. As I get closer, I notice the resemblance to Syn in almost all of them.

There are several in black and white, the man who looks like Syn dressed in various styles over the centuries. The larger painting at the top shows a regal man dressed in gold and purple clothing, like something straight out of the Renaissance. The man looks so much like Syn, I find myself transfixed, studying every detail of the painting, looking for differences, but there are none.

Are all these look-a-like men ancestors? Does his gene pool run strong through his family? It’s like having a twin in every photo. The more modern ones look like they came from the sixties, and then I notice the others. Yves, Thorn, Eros, Raphael, and Midnight.

They’re standing in front of the Sands Hotel sign wearing suits and smiling. I notice a note scrawled at the bottom of the photo, “House of Orpheus, 1962.” That was…over sixty years ago. They look as young and vibrant in the picture as they do now, but that’s impossible. Shaking my head, I step back from the photo, sipping my cooling coffee as my mind tries to make sense of what I’m seeing.

There’s a smaller photo in black and white that draws my attention to it. In it, two men that appear to be Syn and Yves stand around another smaller man with long dark hair. Behind the trio is a huge ship with the words RMS Titanic on it. Leaning down, I squint at the photo, looking for signs of how it was made. Is it a backdrop? A tourist money grab? It would have to be. Obviously, Yves and Syn were not present for the one and only tour of the Titanic. That was more than a hundred years ago.

The rest of the pictures show the guys in different places and outfits, like a time travel trip through the decades. It must be some kind of weird hobby. Recreating themselves in historical times and places? Is that a thing people do?

I leave the study confused and mildly suspicious, but of what, I’m not sure. I’d be more inclined to think he has mad Photoshop skills or even cloned himself than to believe these pictures were somehow authentic. It’s literally impossible.

After finishing my coffee, I head back to the main bedroom to change into real clothes, now fueled with curiosity to check out the common area. I run a brush through my hair and throw on some sneakers before exiting Syn’s apartment.

In the large sitting room, I see Eros sitting at a table by the fireplace, bent over what looks like a notebook. The other guy, Raphael, is curled up in an armchair and appears to be sketching something. Both men look up as I enter.

“Uh, hi, guys,” I say.

“Hello,” Eros says, putting his pen down. “Are you looking for Syn?”

“Not really. He said he was meeting with Yves, so I was just kind of walking around. I didn’t mean to bother you guys.”

“Not a bother,” Raphael says, smiling. “Please sit with us.”

Studying both their faces, I plop down on the couch. They look exactly like the men in the pictures, so it had to be them. I just don’t know how.

“Are you feeling better?” Eros asks.

“Much. Whatever Vivienne gave me worked like magic.”

The men exchange glances but simply smile at me. They continue looking at me without speaking—awkward —so I search for something to say.

“Syn tells me you guys are all chosen family. How long have you known each other?”

They exchange glances again before Eros answers, “So very long.”

“I hardly remember my life before them,” Raphael adds.

Are they being kind of sketch, or am I being paranoid? I nod, and offer a slight smile. “Um, so what are you guys doing?”

“I’m writing poetry,” Eros answers.

“I’m sketching,” Raphael says.

“Creative guys.”

They both nod. I glance around, looking for an opportunity to excuse myself without making it weird, but before I can, Syn, Yves, Thorn, and Midnight enter the room.

Syn frowns when he sees me, but then softens his expression. “I’m afraid I have some disturbing news, Bowie.”

“What?”

“The bar burned down early this morning. Midnight saw it on his way back from a job.”

Midnight nods with a somber expression. “The fire department was there already, but I did see a stretcher that looked like it had a body underneath it.”

My chest tightens. “Stan?”

“We don’t know,” Syn answers. “Can you call him or Nelly maybe?”

Rubbing my forehead, I nod. “Yeah. My phone is in the apartment.” I stand to head back to Syn’s place, noticing quickly that everyone is following me.

When I find my phone on the nightstand in the bedroom, I’ve already missed several calls from Nelly. My heartbeat quickens as I press the button to call her back.

“Bowie,” she answers. “Oh, god. You’re okay.”

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“Stan’s place had a fire last night. They think it was electrical, but they found remains, Bowie. Remains. I have to go to the morgue to see if I can identify anything they found, but they told me it’s a few bones and some belongings.”

“Shit.”

“Do you think Stan was sleeping there?” she asks. “Maybe working late or something?”

I squeeze my eyes closed. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll go with you.”

“Oh, would you? That would help so much.”

“Of course. I’ll come over now. Give me like, thirty minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

I end the call and hold the phone in my lap in dazed silence. Stan is dead. What was he doing there? Maybe the bad guys torched the place. Fuck.

“How is Nelly?” Syn asks, and when I look up, all the brothers plus Vivienne and another woman are crowded in the room by the door.

“She seems calm, but she’s probably in shock. She has to go down to identify the body. I said I’d go with her.”

“Of course,” Syn says. “I’ll take you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.” He smiles. “I want to.”

Dragging a hand through my hair, I nod, on autopilot as I grab different clothes and head into the bathroom. A moment later, Syn slips in and I walk straight into his arms, pressing my face to his chest.

“What’s Nelly gonna do if Stan is dead? What am I gonna do without a job?”

Syn kisses the top of my head as he rubs my back. “We’ll take care of her. She’s family now.”

Tilting my head back, I search his eyes. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“I told you, Bowie. You’re mine now and I’m yours. That includes everything and everyone important to you. You never have to worry or do things alone. I’m here now.”

Exhaling slowly, I smile as fear and worry seem to slip away with his comforting words. I’m going to believe him. I’m going to trust the universe that after all the shit I’ve been through, I finally get a break.

“I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

“Thanks.”

I watch Syn leave then return to the task of getting dressed. Somehow, this will all work out.

I’m choosing to believe it, because the alternative is an option I can’t accept.

Chapter Eighteen

SYN

“You’re gonna tell him, right?” Thorn asks, leaning against the wall outside our units.

“Of course I am. I need to get him through this interaction with his aunt first. Make sure he knows she’s okay.”

“Sooner is better than later, huh,” Viv says, grinning at me as she twists a lock of her thick red hair. “He needs to know. The more he’s around us…” She shrugs.

Viper watches us with curious eyes as we speak in our veiled way.

Pointedly looking at Viv, I reply, “I am not the only one among us with secrets.”

She sticks her tongue out at me before grabbing Viper’s wrist and leading her back inside Yves’s unit.

“While I’m not one to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong,” Yves begins. “I have to agree with the others on this. You’ve decided to keep him. He needs to know about us. It isn’t fair for all of us to guard our nature.”

Exhaling slowly, I nod. “You’re right, and I apologize. It’s selfish of me.”

“Nah,” Thorn says, now puffing on a cigarette. “It’s just new.”

Yves pinches the bridge of his nose. “No tobacco inside, Thorn. You agreed.”

“Oops.” He grins with a wink. “Forgot.” We watch as he squeezes the lit end with his thumb and index finger to extinguish it.

“I thought you gave that up, anyway,” I note.

“I did, but I got it from this cool indigenous dude who grows his own shit. Makes a killing on it because it’s so pure and has no added chemicals. I was supporting a small business owner and you know how I feel about the short stick indigenous people got in America.”

“And while we appreciate your philanthropy, I must insist the tobacco stays outdoors,” Yves says. “The scent lingers too long.”

Thorn salutes Yves and shuffles off to his unit.

“Gotta love the guy,” I say and Yves chuckles.

“To the depths of my blackened soul, I do.” With his hand on my shoulder, his expression shifts to one of concern. “Do you want one of us to assist?”

“No, it’s fine. I just want to make sure Bowie knows he’s supported and that it extends to his aunt. Maybe his loser uncle decided to burn it down to get the insurance money and then he couldn’t get out in time or something.”

“Possibly, yes. Let me know if you need us for anything.”

“I will.”

A moment later my front door opens and Bowie steps out, looking both nervous and determined. He’s wearing a hoodie, and I’m reminded of the nights I followed him home from the bar. He looked so sad then, and I knew I had to do something to see his smile.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

The drive across town to Nelly’s house is a quiet one. Bowie gazes outside the whole ride, but keeps his hand on my thigh, as if touching me is a comfort to him. Gods, I hope it is.

We pull up in front of a modest pale yellow house with overgrown grass in the front yard. It’s farther away from the area where Bowie lived than I thought, which sort of explains why he didn’t hang out here more often.

With a deep exhale, Bowie opens his door and climbs out of the car. I follow him up the cracked driveway to the front step, and Bowie rings the doorbell. The door opens and a woman smiles.

“Bowie!” The two hug until the woman stands back, her tired eyes shifting to me with curiosity in them. “Hello.”

“Uh, Nelly, this is Syn. My, uh, my…”

“His friend,” I offer, extending my hand. “I’m sorry for your loss. I came to support Bowie while he supports you.”

Nelly’s expression softens. “Oh, that’s so nice. Let me grab my handbag.”

She turns away from the door for a moment, and I watch her, listening carefully. She’s alone in the house for sure, and her energy is very calm for a woman who just lost her husband. Perhaps she’s not sad about that at all.

When she returns, she smiles and closes the door behind her. She’s several inches shorter than Bowie, probably around five-three or so, and a curvy woman with black hair that is doing its best to turn gray. She’s got it swept back in a messy ponytail and is wearing a green sweatshirt and some faded jeans. While she’s not particularly striking visually, there’s something soothing and welcoming about her demeanor. Her kindness is her beauty.

“The body is at New Onyx General,” Nelly says as she fastens her seat belt in the back.

“Do you have any other details about what happened?” Bowie asks.

“No. Just that a restaurant a few doors down saw the smoke and called emergency services, but it had already been burning for a while by then. The fire was difficult to put out, and by the time they did, all that was left was a charred body.”

She delivers the information so plainly, I’m left wondering if she’s in shock like Bowie suggested, or more detached from her husband than Bowie knew.

I set about driving while Bowie and Nelly catch up.

“Where have you been lately?” Nelly asks.

“Staying with Syn,” he answers. “I, um…Well, I was attacked. Beat up pretty badly.”

“No, Bowie,” Nelly says. “Were you seriously hurt?”

“Kind of, but I healed well. Syn showed up in the nick of time before it got worse. He works in the area sometimes.”

I notice Nelly’s eyes shifting to mine through the rearview mirror. I’m not sensing any kind of suspicion from her, which is good.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” Nelly says. “You know I worried about you lurking in that house. Bad vibes.”

“I know.”

“But you’re safe now?” she asks.

“Yeah.” Bowie nods. “Syn’s place is in a nice area. He’s letting me stay for a while.”

“More than letting you,” I add. “I want you to stay.”

A sweet burst of heat rises from Bowie as he smiles shyly.

“He’s really nice, Nel,” Bowie whispers, unaware I can hear him.

“You deserve that,” his aunt replies.

I couldn’t agree more.

Minutes later, I pull into the lot of the city’s largest hospital and find a space to park. We exit the car, Bowie holding on to Nelly’s hand on one side and mine on the other. Words cannot express the warm feeling the gesture gives me.

Inside, we hang back while Nelly explains her presence to the woman at the check-in desk. A minute later, she turns to us.

“Someone will come escort us.”

I nod, glancing around. This isn’t the part of the hospital where there are sick or injured people. It’s the main hub and woefully lacking the security needed for this part of the city.

A few minutes go by before a man in a police uniform comes up. He glances at the three of us suspiciously before approaching Nelly.

“Annette Petrovis?”

“That’s me. This is my nephew and his friend.”

The officer nods. “Come with me, please.”

He leads us down a long hallway to a row of elevators that we take down to the morgue. I’ve been in morgues far too many times in my life, either to rescue a fellow vampire before their secret is revealed, or to remove evidence.

After opening a door, the officer gestures for us to enter. Inside is a metal table with what appears to be a body covered in a sheet.

“I must warn you,” the officer begins, “the body is badly burned, but we found some effects nearby that could help you identify the remains.”

Nelly nods as Bowie moves closer to her for support. The officer lifts the sheet, and what’s revealed beneath it immediately strikes me as off. The remains aren’t complete, with numerous body parts missing. The jaw is missing from the skull, which means someone knew teeth can identify a person. Someone had to go out of their way to remove it. Jaw bones don’t just fall off during a fire.

Beside the remains is a charred watch, a crumpled jacket, and part of a key fob. Nelly’s eyes roam over the scene, but her face remains emotionless.

“That’s his watch,” she says softly.

Bowie nods. “He kept that jacket on the back of his chair most of the time.”

“At the bar?” the officer clarifies.

“Yeah. I worked with him.”

“How did this happen?” Nelly asks.

“Best we can tell, it was electrical. We’re still investigating, but there didn’t appear to be signs of foul play.”

“Why couldn’t he get out?” she asks.

“Part of what we’re investigating. We did find several empty alcohol bottles on the scene. Is it possible he passed out drunk?”

Nelly huffs, nodding as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Yes. He drank a lot.” Shaking her head, she continues, “Dammit, Stan.”

“Is it possible Stan lit the fire himself?” the officer asks, his eyes narrowed and tone suspicious. “Any financial troubles or enemies that you know of?”

Nelly tears her eyes away from the burned mess and fixes her gaze on the officer. “Yes. We’ve had financial problems for years, and as for enemies, probably. Stan messed around with dangerous people all the time. I’ve tried so many times to get him to move away. Sell the bar and start over.” She slumps with grief, clinging to Bowie. “Anything is possible.”

The officer’s face softens. “Thank you, ma’am. I know this is difficult. If you think of anything else, just give us a call.”

“I will.”

“Oh, before you go, is there an insurance policy on the bar?”

Nelly shrugs. “I have no idea. He wouldn’t tell me stuff like that. I can look in his home office when I get home.”

The officer hands Nelly his card and lets us go. We leave the hospital in silence, but I for one am quite sure that pile of burned human was not Stan at all.

“What do you want to do, Nel?” Bowie asks once we’re settled in the car. “I can come home with you and help you get settled again. I can go through his things.”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine, Bowie. I can handle it.”

“You are more than welcome to come with us as well,” I offer. “If you need a break.”

Bowie practically melts as he gazes at me, but Nelly only smiles.

“That’s very kind, but really, I’m okay. The only thing bothering me is…” She pauses, glancing out the window for a moment before releasing a slow breath. “Is it weird that I don’t think that body was Stan?”

I exhale with some relief. I wasn’t the only one not buying what I saw.

“No, it’s not,” Bowie says. “The whole time I felt like something was off. Like, why were parts of the body gone?”

“Exactly,” Nelly says. “And yeah, he’s a drunk, but he doesn’t pass out like that.”

“No,” Bowie agrees. “You think he did it on purpose?”

“Either that, or someone wanted us to think he died in a fire instead of whatever they really did to him.”

“He was acting pretty weird the last time I saw him,” Bowie says. “Shifty. He told me if anyone asked for him, he was out of town until Monday.”

Nelly rubs her forehead. “He told me he was going to a vendor show in Boston. He lied, didn’t he?”

“Probably,” Bowie answers. “Are you sure you want to be at home alone? What if someone is looking for him and they come to the house?”

“Bowie makes a good point,” I say. “We have a guest apartment in my building you are more than welcome to.”

“I don’t want to impose,” she says.

“You’re not.” I shift in my seat to face her. “Listen, Nelly, I know you don’t know me, but Bowie is very important to me, and by extension, so are you. Neither of us will rest easy if you aren’t with us. My building is very safe.”

Nelly searches my face for a moment before replying, “Are you sure it’s not a problem?”

“Yes. My brothers and I own the building.”

“I promise it’s safe there,” Bowie adds. “Like, really safe.”

“Well, um, okay then. Maybe that would be best.”

Bowie’s face lights up. “Great.”

“Can we go by the house so I can get some things?”

“Of course,” I answer.

I put the car in gear, and as I pull out of the parking space, Bowie squeezes my forearm, his smile bright enough to power New Onyx. I’ve made the joy of my life happy, and that is sweeter than any blood.

Chapter Nineteen

BOWIE

“Are you sure this isn’t weird?” Nelly asks while I’m helping her pack up a few things. “Syn seems nice enough, but he doesn’t even know me.”

“He didn’t know me either when he rescued me. I’m sure it’s for the best. He’ll keep you safe.”

“What does he do?”

I scrunch my face, dodging her question by turning my back and focusing on folding a sweater.

“Bowie?”

“He does, like, private investigating type of stuff.”

“Oh.”

“That’s why I trust him. He knows how shady people work, but I’ve met his brothers and they’re really nice. They all welcomed me, and Syn took care of me while I was healing from my attack.”

She nods, stuffing some shirts in her bag. “I trust you.”

“Good. I would never let anyone hurt you. Not even Stan.”

“I know. He had a lot of problems, but he wasn’t cruel to me.”

Yeah, he saved it all for me. “Good to know.”

After packing up the last of her toiletries, we walk into the living room. Syn is sitting on the couch, digging through a manila folder.

“Find anything?” Nelly asks.

She gave him permission to take a look in Stan’s home office, and he did it remarkably fast.

Syn nods. “There is an insurance policy on the bar, this house, and Stan’s life.” He hands Nelly a folder. “Quite a bit.”

Nelly opens the folder and glances through a few documents. “I’m the beneficiary of everything.”

“Yes,” Syn says. “Note the date.”

Nelly gasps softly. “He just increased the policy amounts last month.”

“Yep.” Syn gazes up at my aunt. “Do you have an alibi, Nelly?”

“An alibi? Why would I need one?”

“Your husband’s bar just went up in flames and he is presumed dead barely a month after he increased his insurance policy. The police will always look to the spouse first.”

She sighs. “Right. Okay, yeah, I do. I was next door with the ladies, playing bunco.”

“Excellent,” Syn says, offering a slight smile. “Ready to go?”

“You didn’t find anything else interesting?” I ask.

“Lots of business ideas, the usual get-rich-quick type of stuff, but nothing too intriguing.”

“Every week, he had a new idea,” Nelly explains. “The only semi-successful thing he ever did was the bar.”

“And it wasn’t exactly overrun with business,” I add.

“Right. Do you think I should take the gun?”

“Yes,” Syn answers.

Nelly crosses to the dining room, where she moves a picture out of the way to reveal a small safe in the wall. She opens it then steps back.

“It’s empty. He must have taken it.”

“Let’s just go,” I say, taking her arm. “I don’t like the vibes I’m feeling.”

We climb into Syn’s car, and I notice the farther we get from Nelly and Stan’s home, the calmer I feel. Something is definitely off, and at this point, I wouldn’t put anything past Stan.

When we finally get to Syn’s building, I can see the wonder on Nelly’s face. We aren’t fancy people. We don’t stay in places that look like this. Even though it isn’t mine, I’m kind of proud I can give Nelly a nice experience for once. After all she’s done for me, she deserves it.

Syn leads us to the building, up in the elevator, and then into the common area. It’s quiet and empty.

“The guest unit is at the end,” Syn explains. “It hasn’t been used in a while, but I asked my brothers to have housekeeping come in and freshen it up a bit.”

“That’s very kind,” Nelly says. “Thank you.”

She can barely walk as her head swivels around the luxurious space. She leans closer to me, wrapping her hands around my arm.

“This is nice, Bowie.”

“Wait until you see the inside.”

“He makes this kind of money doing PI work?”

“He and his brothers work together.” I hate lying, but I can’t exactly tell my aunt that my new…uh…whatever he is to me, is a contract killer.

“Here we go,” Syn says, pushing the door open for me and Nelly to go through.

As I pass him, he smiles warmly, sending shivers down my spine as I recall the way he makes me feel when we touch.

Nelly gasps, glancing around the space like a kid in a toy factory. “Oh my. This is incredible.”

The apartment isn’t like Syn’s at all. It’s much more neutral, with cream leather sofas and light walls, but with the marble floors and high-end finishes, it definitely still feels luxurious.

Syn leans in and whispers against my ear, “I’ll leave you to help her settle in. I’ll be in the common area.” He brushes a kiss to my cheek and leaves.

Once he’s gone, Nelly spins around like a princess. “Bowie. Is this real?”

Laughing softly, I nod. “Far as I can tell. Finally something good is happening.”

Her expression softens. “You deserve it, Bow. You’ve been through far too much. Now is your time.”

“I hope so. Syn insists I can stay as long as I want, and it’s so tempting to take him up on it. How could I go back to squatting after staying here?”

Nelly takes my hand and leads me to the sofa, where we sit down. “If I could make any wish in the world, it would be to undo that terrible night. It changed all of us, but what it took from you is heartbreaking.”

I think over her words for a second. “I’m not sure I would undo it. I mean, yeah, it’s been hard as fuck, and I miss my family a lot, but who knows if it would be better now if all of that hadn’t happened? Sometimes you just gotta let life do its thing.”

“Wise beyond your years,” she says. “Thank you for this. You always look out for me.”

“You do the same for me.”

“I wanted to do more, but Stan—”

“I know, Nel. I think I’m a reminder of how bad things can get for him. He sees my dad when he looks at me. Or maybe he even sees my mom. I try to believe that’s why he’s so hard on me and not that he doesn’t care at all.”

She shrugs. “I wish I knew. I’m not allowed to bring that up.”

I squeeze her hand gently. “Well, regardless of what happened to Stan, no one can get to you here. You are super safe.”

“Do you think he’s dead, Bow?”

Not wanting to lie again, I shake my head. “No. I think he’s hiding out. Maybe he did it to get the money from the insurance, or maybe just to save his life…but no. I don’t think he’s dead.”

“Me neither. It’s insurance fraud if he tries to claim, right?”

“Yeah. We’ll figure things out. For now, settle in and try to get some rest.”

“I will.”

After goodbyes, I leave the unit and make my way to the common area where I find Syn, Thorn, and Yves, along with two women. I recognize one as Viv, the woman with the miracle medicine. Everyone stops speaking as I enter the space. Syn walks over to me, pulling me into his arms and kissing the top of my head.

“How is Nelly?”

“She’s good. Getting settled in.”

“Wonderful. I was updating everyone who is home right now on today’s events.”

“Viper and I can go to the store and get her some groceries,” Viv offers. “Does she have a special diet?”

“Nah. Just normal stuff.”

The dark-haired woman with a wild mane of hair, tattoos covering most of her skin, piercing eyes, and a big smile, offers her hand. “Viper. Assistant to the House of Orpheus.”

House of Orpheus. That was on the photos I saw. “Bowie. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Thanks for doing that,” Syn says, waving to the women as they leave.

When I turn around again, Yves is staring at me. Syn clears his throat and Yves blinks, then smiles.

“Your aunt is welcome to stay as long as she likes,” Yves says.

“Thanks. That’s really nice.”

“A decision Syn can make on his own, of course, but I wanted you to know the rest of us are in complete agreement,” Yves continues.

“Appreciate it.”

Thorn, the wild-eyed one, sways gently with a slightly maniacal grin on his face. I want to ask him why he’s looking at me like that, but something tells me maybe I don’t want to know.

“We’ll be in my unit if anyone needs me,” Syn says, gripping my shoulder and leading me away. “Pay no attention to Thorn,” he says after we’re out of hearing distance. “He’s just excitable.”

“About what?”

Syn glances down at me, exhaling softly before opening the door to his place and gesturing for me to enter. Once we’re inside and seated in the living room, Syn wraps an arm around me, and I automatically curl into him. His closeness calms my mind and relaxes my body. And damn, he smells so good.

“Thorn is excited by your presence in my life,” Syn says softly, nuzzling his lips into my hair. “I’ve been alone a very long time, Bowie, with no desire to change that until you stepped into my world.”

Listening to his kind of unbelievable words, I burrow into his chest, pressing my ear to his chest over his heart. His heartbeat is soft, so faint I can barely hear it.

“As soon as I saw your face, I was hooked,” Syn continues. “You didn’t give a fuck about me.” He laughs softly. “It didn’t matter though.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. I was too busy keeping my head above water. I care now.”

“I know.”

I pull back enough to see his face, but what I see isn’t what I was expecting. He looks uncomfortable, his expression tight, lips pursed.

“What’s wrong?”

Syn shakes his head, forcing a smile. “Nothing,” he mumbles.

I narrow my eyes. “Come on, Syn. I know something’s up.”

He closes his eyes, his brow furrowed as he blows out a slow breath. When he opens his eyes, his expression relaxes.

“Sometimes,” he says, “all I want to do is throw you down and ravage your flesh.”

My cheeks warm as my cock stirs with interest. “Oh.”

“I desire you, Bowie, with an intensity that takes my breath away. If I could, I would spend all our days in bed, worshipping every inch of your beautiful body.”

Just when I’m expecting a kiss, Syn stands abruptly, rubbing his forehead as he walks swiftly to the windows. I hop up and join him, confused by his behavior.

“You think I don’t want that?” When he doesn’t answer, I put my hand on his back. “I want you too, Syn.”

He shakes his head. “It isn’t that.”

“Then what is it? You can tell me anything.”

He swings around, pulling me towards him so quickly I barely realize what’s happened until my face is pressed against his chest. Syn’s fingers tangle in my hair, and as he gently tugs my head back, I lift my eyes to find his piercing gaze.

But there’s something different about it. Something dangerous.

My throat tightens and my skin tingles, my body torn between desire for this intense man and natural fear that I’m in the arms of a predator.

“Do not fear me, Bowie,” he says as if reading my mind. “I will not hurt you.”

“I know. You just look…different. Wild.”

Syn exhales slowly. “My nature is…untamed. It makes me a good assassin, but a challenging lover.”

“Do you…want to hurt me?”

“No.” He shakes his head, his face softening. “Never. You are precious, Bowie. A treasure in this cold, dark world.”

“Then what are you holding back? Do you want to be rough with me or something?”

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “But only for pleasure. I fear it would be more mine than yours, and I refuse to be a selfish lover with you.”

“But I want to please you. I want to make you happy, Syn.”

“Your existence makes me happy. I need nothing else.” He places his hands on either side of my face, gazing into my eyes. “This isn’t casual for me, Bowie. I want to keep you forever. I need you to believe that everything I do is for your happiness and safety. Everything. You are the sun to my earth.”

My eyes sting with tears as I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m still trying to understand why.” I squeeze my eyes shut to clear them. “Why, after so much loss and pain…How?”

“You deserve love and devotion. You deserve kindness. You deserve a tender touch.”

Finally, I understand why he’s holding back. He thinks being aggressive with me sexually is bad because of my background. I get it now.

Without words, I sink to my knees, lifting my gaze to his face as I unzip his jeans.

“What are you doing, Bowie?”

I don’t answer him. I’m on a mission. I have no idea how to suck a dick, but I’m about to get some hands-on experience in the task.

Under his jeans is nothing but hot, hard flesh. As I tug the material back, his cock springs forward, almost touching my lips. Fuck. It’s way bigger up close. Can I even do this?

“You don’t have to,” Syn whispers.

“I know. I want to.” And I do. My mouth waters and my stomach flutters in anticipation. “I really want to.”

My hand moves to his flat, muscled stomach, the soft hair there tickling my fingers. The scent of his bare skin is intoxicating, like some kind of dark flower I didn’t know existed, sensual and sweet at the same time.

Syn uses a finger to lift my chin. “If you want to do this, take your time. I am patient.”

“You’re really big.”

He nods. “Yes. Do you want guidance?”

“Yeah. That would be good.”

His eyes heat, and I’d swear on my life they’re somehow glowing. Maybe it’s the way the late afternoon light hits them. That’s the only thing that kind of makes sense.

“Start by licking the base and move to the tip,” Syn says.

My tummy flutters as I stick my tongue out and get my first taste of dick. I don’t know what I expected to taste, but it wasn’t this. Sweet, soft skin practically melts on my tongue, and as Syn moans softly, the sound vibrates through me.

I do it again, and apparently, all I needed to unleash my dick-loving persona was the first tiny push, because suddenly I can’t get enough.

I suck on the tip, lapping at his slit, releasing a steady stream of sticky-sweet fluid. Jesus fucking Christ, this man is made of sugar. With my hands on his thighs and his back pressed against the windows, I do my best to relax my throat and swallow as much of his length as possible, which, spoiler alert, isn’t much. That doesn’t stop me from trying though.

Syn tangles his fingers in my hair, slowly pumping his hips, his face a mask of bliss as he watches his cock slide in and out of my mouth.

“Perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect. Look at those lips. By the gods, you are beautiful, Bowie.”

His words spur me on. I’m sure it’s not the best blow job he’s ever had with my sloppy rhythm and constant gagging, but I’m happier than a kid on Halloween. I love the feel of his cock on my tongue, the way his length stabs the back of my throat, the heat of his body, the bursts of sweetness.

All this time, I thought I was somehow broken. Even in prison, I didn’t feel sexual urges, but damn, nothing was wrong with me except my circumstances. I fucking love dick.

Syn’s expression darkens as his grip in my hair tightens. “I’m going to come.”

“Okay.” I suck even harder, and as he tries to pull away, I scoot closer, keeping him in my mouth.

“It’s a lot, Bowie.”

I nod, unwilling to break away, even to speak. I can feel him swelling, thickening in my mouth, stretching my lips to their limit. I imagine what it would feel like to have all of this cock inside me. My own dick twitches in my pants, pressing painfully against the zipper of my jeans, desperate to get out.

Syn moans my name, long and slow, as he slumps forward, curled over me. His cock pulses in my mouth, filling it seconds later with thick, creamy cum.

Oh my fucking god. There’s so much, but Jesus, it’s delicious. Sweet like candy, with just a hint of salt. I lean back on my heels, my mouth open to allow every drop to splash against my tongue. I swallow load after load, some of it dribbling down my chin, and when he’s finally emptied out, I can barely catch my breath as he scoops me off the floor.

Swinging around, he presses my back to the windows and tugs my jeans down with one hand. In seconds, he swallows my cock completely. I cry out, digging my fingers into his shoulders as pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever felt rips through me.

Somehow, he manages to hold my entire weight up with one hand, my legs draped over his shoulders as he sucks my soul out through my cock. I’m trembling from the sensations coursing through me right now. His mouth is cooler than I expected, but fuck can he suck a dick.

“You’re gonna come for me, Bowie,” he says, nibbling my balls with his teeth. “I cannot tell you how desperately I need to taste you.”

“Oh fuck,” is all I can manage to say as he lowers me.

Then a new, sharper feeling racks my body, slightly painful, but in a good way, like working out a sore muscle. I can’t tell where it’s coming from as the pain radiates through me but slips away gently, leaving only an incredible sense of euphoria in its place.

Then his mouth is on my cock again, his fingers digging into my ass as he moves my hips so I’m basically fucking his throat. It only takes a few seconds before wild tension builds in my stomach. It’s so intense I need to release it, so I let my instincts take over, clawing at my lover’s shoulders as I rock my hips back and forth, desperately seeking an end to this incredible torture.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper. “Holy fuck, Syn. Ohhh, fuck.”

And then, like a bomb, an explosion somewhere deep within me happens, and my orgasm barrels through me like water from a broken dam. I scream Syn’s name, my body shivering and racked with wave after wave of pleasure.

The feeling is like nothing I’ve ever experienced or could even have imagined. It’s so intense, tears flood my eyes, and I have no choice but to give in and sob in Syn’s arms.

He pulls me down and wraps his arms around me, carrying me somewhere. I’m vaguely aware of the cool bedsheets on my heated skin, and Syn removing the rest of my clothes before wrapping his nude body around mine.

“You are an angel, Bowie,” Syn whispers, kissing my neck. “An angel in my world of evil. A wonder sent to light the darkness of my soul. Oh, my darling, I am your eternal servant. What a gift.”

I can’t respond to his poetic words. All I can do is burrow into him, settled and safe in his strong arms. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this good. This happy. This fucking safe.

“Sleep now, my darling. I will be here when you wake. I will be here forever.”

I give in, exhausted by what just occurred, but knowing without a doubt that Syn is telling me the truth. I can trust him.

Maybe, I can love him. Maybe I already do.

Chapter Twenty

SYN

Ibit him. I fucking bit him.

Thank the gods he didn’t question it. I knew it was only a matter of time before my beast took over. I could have hurt him. I could have turned him.

In a flash I’m out the door and into Yves’s apartment. I find him sitting in his living room, a cup of tea in his hand and a book on his lap. He looks up with concern.

“What happened, Syn?”

“I bit Bowie.”

His face softens. “Is he hurt?”

“No. It was…” I wave my hand around. “Un piccolo assaggio. A little taste. I couldn’t fight it off. Before I knew it, I had sunk my teeth into his flesh.”

“How did he react?”

I plop down beside him on the couch. “He didn’t really. Maybe he was distracted by pleasure.”

Now Yves smiles. “Did you make love to him?”

“Not fully. Not yet, but we have shared bodies.” Leaning back, I rub my forehead. “Am I an asshole for not telling him what I am and what we are to each other?”

“An asshole? No.” He sets his book on the coffee table. “I doubt any of us would handle it differently except maybe Eros.”

I chuckle at that image. “Eros would propose on day one.”

“Yes.” Yves rubs my arm. “I am so happy for you, my friend. Don’t fear your feelings for him.”

“How do I tell him, Yves? How do I look that beautiful man in the face and tell him…” I can’t even bring myself to say the words. “What if I frighten him? What if he finds me disgusting? What if he reacts like Midnight’s love did?”

“Midnight will be the first to admit his reveal was impulsive. He didn’t take the time to get to know the man first or to truly understand his position on things. Bowie has already shown you he is different. He didn’t react negatively to finding out you’re an assassin.”

“That’s not the same as being a creature of the night who drinks human blood to survive. He’s used to murder and violence. He’s not used to me.”

“You underestimate him, Syn. I felt his energy and he is remarkably unhardened by the life he’s led up to now. He is longing for a home and a family. He sees that in you. Don’t you feel it too?”

Exhaling, I nod as his words swirl around my chest. “I was afraid I was blinded by my desire for him.”

“No. If there were any malice in his heart, we would have sensed by now. We’re objective to some extent.” He laughs softly. “Even Midnight found no cause for concern, and you know he’s looking for it.”

“And Raphael? What did he say?”

“Our skeptical artist agrees with us.” Yves takes my hand in his. “You have locked your heart away from the world for too long. I have seen glimpses of how vast and comforting it can be when your guard is down. It is what made it so hard to let you leave my bed.”

I nod, pushing down the pang of guilt I always feel for not being able to give my heart to the man who gave me so much.

“But it was selfish of me to covet what you could not give. Look at you now.” Yves smiles. “Freely pouring yourself into Bowie. Doesn’t that tell you everything you need to know? You love him, Syn. Tell him. Show him. I have no doubt he will accept you and love you in return.”

“What if…” I shake my head. “What if I don’t know what love is?”

“Ask him to show you. And if neither of you know, create it together. Every love is different. Yours and Bowie’s will be what you make it.”

“How do you do it, Yves? How does your heart remain so open and loving when you’ve had such deep loss?”

He shrugs. “Eternity is a very long time, my friend. I have simply decided that I will always try to love first. I believe it makes my existence tolerable. Someday, I will have what you have found. I know I will.”

“You deserve it above all of us.”

“I deserve it when fate decides I do.” He pats my shoulder. “Go to him.”

I throw my arms around Yves. “Thank you.”

As I pull back, I see the sadness in his eyes he tries to hide. I hope fate is as kind to him, and soon, as it has been to me.

When I enter my apartment, I’m immediately hit with the luxurious scent of my mate. His taste still lingers on my tongue, his needy whimpers play in my ears. As if carried by wind to the bedroom, I strip my clothes off and climb back into bed, wrapping my body around his warm one.

He stirs, murmuring my name as I nuzzle his hair. I know in the depths of my soul that this man is my future, my eternity. All I have to do is find the guts to tell him.

I bolt upright as a bone-chilling shiver moves up my spine. I must have drifted off to sleep, but that bliss is over. Something evil is near.

“What’s wrong?” Bowie asks with a sleepy voice.

“I don’t know. Stay here.”

“Okay.”

Climbing out of bed, I grab my jeans and jump into them before walking down the hall shirtless and barefoot. The apartment is quiet, as expected. I’d love to see the mortal who could break in here, but that doesn’t erase the negative energy flowing around me.

When I open my front door, my brothers are emerging from theirs, all of us alert. Thorn is the first to rush to the end of the hallway where the floor-to-ceiling windows are. He shakes his head.

“Nothing.”

“I’ll go to the roof,” Eros announces.

“I’ll hit the basement,” Raphael offers.

“I’m going to check on Nelly,” I say, already moving towards her unit as everyone else disperses to search the building.

I knock, but she doesn’t answer. Given the hour, I imagine she’s asleep. I don’t want to enter unannounced—she is a lady, after all—but anxiety makes me strongly consider doing it anyway.

“Syn!”

I twist around to see Yves waving at me. I run in his direction, my eyes focusing on the small black mass outside the front windows. No one else would be able to see from this angle, but we can.

“Stan.” It’s only a guess at this point.

Before Yves can say a word, I’m downstairs and out the door, ready to attack. But it’s not Stan. It’s some big-ass tank of man, covered from his scalp down in tattoos across any visible skin. Unfortunately, I’m all too familiar with who this is.

“Benny Bullet. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Benny, one of the mob’s most violent enforcers, narrows his eyes. “Did I say you could address me by name?” His thick tough-guy accent grates my nerves. “Who the fuck are you?”

“This is my home. What do you want?”

“Your home, huh?”

He steps closer, but keeps his dark, beady eyes on the building. “I’m looking for somebody. Name is Stan. Heard you got his family locked up inside. Maybe they know where he is.”

How does this guy know that? “Go fuck yourself.”

Benny chuckles, cracking his knuckles, which I’m sure is intimidating to most people, but I’m not most people. “Why don’t you get your pussy face outta mine and let me do what I gotta do.”

“Pussy face? That’s the best you can do? Come on, Benny. Your reputation precedes you. You want to talk to someone inside, you gotta get through me first.”

“I ain’t got no problem with that.”

He charges me, but I simply lift off my feet and flip behind him. He turns around, confusion all over his face, until he runs at me again. Since the sun will be up soon and the last thing any of us need is a public murder, I grab Benny by his thick neck and drag him inside the building while he chokes, kicking his legs and clutching at my hand.

I drop him in the foyer, my brothers joining us.

“What do we have here?” Thorn asks, his eyes already lighting up.

“Benny here thinks we have Stan’s family inside and that we should let him talk to them. What do you guys think?”

Thorn chuckles. “Yeah, no. How about we teach Benny a lesson in manners?”

“Is he gonna sleep with the fishes?” Midnight asks with a grin.

“And let all that delicious blood go to waste?” Eros asks with his deceptively innocent face.

“The fuck you talking about, man?” Benny asks, just now realizing he’s in over his head.

“I don’t know, Eros,” I say, slowly circling Benny as he lies on the floor. “Do we really want to drink blood from this piece of shit?”

“Excellent point,” Eros says. “Maybe we just let him bleed. Send him back to his superiors so they know they better stay the fuck away from us and everyone we care about.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Thorn says. “Can I go first?”

“Syn should do the honors,” Yves says.

By this point, Benny reeks of fear. He tries to scoot back, his massive body barely moving at all. “Wh-what the fuck are you guys?”

“Vampires,” Midnight answers easily. “You’ve heard about us, haven’t you, Benny?”

He shakes his head, sweat dripping down his bald head. “Vampires aren’t real.”

With that, I exhale, releasing my fangs and nails. “You sure about that, Benny?”

And then I attack, tearing at his flesh and delighting in his tortured scream. I could easily kill him, but what fun would that be? I step back, gesturing for my brothers to join in, while Yves and I watch.

Blood drips off my chin onto my chest, the taste of it bitter and metallic, especially after compared to the sweet elixir flowing through Bowie’s veins.

“Don’t kill him, boys,” I call out. “We need to deliver a message.”

Thorn lifts his face, his wild grin covered in blood and flesh. “We’re avoiding all the sensitive parts. Can I deliver him? Please, Syn?”

“Fine with me.”

I watch for a few more minutes, until the mob enforcer is a whimpering mess lying in a pool of blood. We have to clean up quickly before anyone else wakes and enters the building.

Thorn and Midnight lift the massive man easily, and as Thorn tosses the body over his shoulder, they take off into the early morning.

“We’ll take care of this,” Raphael says, gesturing to the mess on the floor. “You go check on our guests.”

“Thank you.”

Yves and I hurry upstairs, and I stop in Yves’s apartment to wash my face before checking Nelly’s unit is still secure and then returning to my own place.

I find Bowie awake, sitting on the sofa, pale and shaking.

“Bowie? What’s wrong?”

He turns his face to me, and as I take in the spooked expression, wide eyes, pinched brow, I fear I already know the answer.

“What were you doing, Syn? I saw…” He shakes his head. “Am I dreaming?”

I could use compulsion right now. Make him think he is indeed dreaming, but what would that solve in the long run? Fuck. This is not at all how I wanted him to discover what we are.

“Tell me the truth,” Bowie says, as if he can sense my fear of doing exactly that. “You were…” He exhales. “You were biting him, weren’t you?”

I nod, crossing the room to stand by the windows in case he needs space. “Bowie…”

He looks so small sitting there in just his jeans, his eyes wounded, his face scared. He’s afraid of me, and fuck, that’s the last thing I ever wanted.

“This is not what I intended at all. I’m so sorry you saw it. I was trying to figure out how to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

“How to tell me what, Syn?”

“Uh…” I guess there’s only one way to say it. “Bowie, I’m a vampire.”

Chapter Twenty-One

BOWIE

Did he just say…? No. I didn’t hear that correctly.

“What did you say?”

“I said I’m a vampire. All my brothers are.”

“Vampire. Right.” Is he crazy, or am I? “Um, for the record, vampires don’t exist.”

“That’s what the public believes,” Syn says. “That’s what we want them to believe. It’s safer for all of us that way.” His delivery makes it clear he believes what he’s saying.

Figures I would finally fall for someone and they’re batshit crazy. “Okay, cool. Um…I’m gonna go check on Nelly.”

“I really think we should talk.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re a vampire. Got it.”

“You think I’m insane.”

“Or something.”

“How can I prove it to you? Do you want to see my fangs?”

I press my lips together, torn between self-preservation and the desire to stay close to him. “Okay.”

Syn twists his neck back and forth, releasing a long breath, and as he opens his mouth, his canine teeth grow long and sharp right before my eyes. He holds his hands out and his nails extend into long white talons. His skin turns pale and his eyes glow like amber. Holy fuck. I wasn’t imagining the eye thing. My mouth drops open as I struggle to find words.

“My original name is Alessio di Firenze. I was born in Florence, Italy in 1471.”

“Fourteen…” I gasp for a breath. “What?”

“I was thirty-two the night I was reborn. Yves is my maker.”

“Ma-maker?”

“He made me a vampire, Bowie.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and drag a hand through my hair. Syn keeps his distance, sitting in an armchair across from me.

“I knew that my inherent nature caused me to love men, but I was from a fine family, destined to follow my father’s footsteps and marry a girl chosen for me. My life was all planned out with no input from me at all. No one asked me what I wanted. No one even considered it. What could I want for? I had everything, or so they thought.”

I listen to his every word, enthralled by the story he tells.

“Yves approached me at a ball. He was so beautiful. He still is, of course, but he offered me a life of my own choosing. A life where I could love as I wished. He offered me a gift.”

“A gift?”

Syn nods. “Eternal life. He chose me to join his family. I had no idea what I was doing, but I was seduced by the freedom. So I said yes. I followed him into the night and gave my blood and my soul to Yves.”

My chest tightens with something that feels a lot like jealousy. “You loved him?”

Syn nods. “Not in the way you’re thinking. I loved his soul, his spirit, his elegant view of what life could be. I love him still, but as a brother of sorts.”

“I hate myself for asking this, but I have to know. Were you lovers?”

Syn flinches but nods. “Yes, but please remember this was centuries ago. I have not shared his bed since the sixteenth century.”

“Sixteenth century. You know this sounds insane, right?”

“Yes, but I would not lie to you. Omit, yes. I didn’t know how to tell you, and I was afraid of your reaction. I still am. I’ve never revealed myself to a mortal, but you are important to me, Bowie. You have no idea how much.”

I take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. “Okay, but you can go outside in the daytime. I’ve seen you. You eat. You don’t sleep in a coffin.”

“Those are myths made up for entertainment based on very old folklore. I am not much different from you in most ways. I can eat, yes, but it doesn’t do much for me. I sleep in a bed, but I don’t require more than an hour or two of rest. As for the sun, prolonged exposure is uncomfortable, like a sunburn for mortals. I do prefer the night.”

My head spins with this information, but I can’t deny what I saw in the lobby—Syn tearing at the flesh of a man, his brothers jumping in to assist. I’d hoped I was having a nightmare, but knew I wasn’t.

“You drink blood?”

“To live, yes.”

“Human blood?”

He nods, his face stoic. “Yes.”

“You kill people?”

“You already know that.”

“No, I mean to eat.”

He shrugs. “It’s a mix. I don’t often enjoy feeding from all our targets, but it is convenient in a pinch. I do not have to kill to feed. I know the limits that are safe for mortals.”

“So, what? It’s like donating blood?”

“Something like that, yes.” As he frowns, I know there’s more. “I have to apologize, Bowie. Earlier, my desire for you took over, and I lost control of my beast. I bit you.”

Instinctively, my hand moves to the spot on my neck that throbs in response to his admission. That’s what I felt earlier. The sharp sting of pain that left me feeling better than anything in the world.

“You drank my blood?”

“I am ashamed.” He slides off the chair onto his knees. “Please forgive me. I did not intend to do that without your consent. I just…gods, I desire you to the point of my undoing.”

“It…it didn’t hurt. It felt kind of good.”

A flicker of heat passes over his features. “It is incredible when it is wanted.”

“So, you want to do that to me? I mean, with me? Bite me?”

His jaw twitches. “All the gods, yes.”

“But it wouldn’t hurt?”

“I cannot hurt you. I have waited hundreds of years for you.”

“What does that mean, Syn?”

He moves so quickly, I don’t even realize it until he’s kneeling right in front of me, his hands on my knees. “I think this is enough discovery for one day. You should let it sink in. To stay with me is to be part of my world. A world that is violent and bloody in many ways, but filled with love and beauty and devotion. I will give you anything your heart desires, my darling Bowie. Anything.”

“I hear you, but if there’s more, I want to know. I want to know why you think you want me so much when I have nothing—”

“Do not say that. Don’t say you have nothing to offer me, because your existence is all I want. I don’t need material possessions or money or anything else, Bow. I have all that. What I don’t have is you. Until now, that is. If you want to leave me, I can’t say I will easily let you go.”

I tilt my head. The dark intensity of his delivery should scare me, but instead it settles something inside me. I feel safe with him. Safer than I have in a very long time. I feel wanted. I know he cares about me. Maybe that’s enough to figure out the rest of it.

“Tell me the rest of it, Syn. Tell me why you’re so devoted to me.”

“Bowie, please. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Syn.” I lean in, cupping his gorgeous face in my hands. “You just told me you’re a vampire and I’m still here. You can tell me. I’m ready for it.”

Syn looks conflicted but he nods. “There is something among many supernatural beings called fated mates.”

“Fated mates?”

“Yes. Essentially, it’s the idea that fate or the universe or whatever higher power you believe in chose someone perfectly suited for you in every way. You may attempt to love others, but nothing will feel right until your soul finds its match.”

“Like a soulmate?”

“Much deeper than that. We are not complete until we find our mate. I honestly thought it was a myth like crucifixes and garlic, but now I believe it’s true. Meeting you convinced me.”

“What?”

“I have never been in love, Bowie. Not in all the years I’ve walked this earth. There were so many men I should have loved, but I couldn’t unlock that part of me. Not until you stepped into my life.”

“What are you saying, Syn?”

He takes my hands in his, a hopeful smile on his face. “Bowie, I believe you’re my fated mate.”

My mouth drops open.

“And finally, this dark and dusty unused muscle I call a heart is open. Unlocked by you. I know now that I am capable of love. I was just waiting for you.”

“What?”

“I love you, Bowie. I will love you for the rest of my eternal life. I am your devoted and you are my beloved. Say yes, and I will give you the world.”

Oof. I was definitely not ready.

Chapter Twenty-Two

SYN

Bowie hasn’t said anything since I confessed my love, and as much as I believe in our connection, true fear swirls in my chest that he will reject me. What will I do then? Lock him in my room? Hunt his scent through the streets of New Onyx, slowly driving both of us insane? Ask my brothers to end my eternal walk? Regardless of the method, his departure will only lead to my demise.

I’m still on my knees between his legs, listening to the rhythmic flow of his breath and the soft pulsing of blood through his veins, and inhaling the scent of him. I don’t detect fear or revulsion, but that doesn’t give me any comfort. Still, I refuse to speak.

Finally, he blows out a slow breath. “Okay, um, let’s start with you being a vampire. How does that affect me if I’m with you?”

“It doesn’t. You’ve seen how I live my life.”

“What about, um, when you need blood?”

“I can get it the same way I always do.”

His brow crinkles as his teeth find his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong, Bowie?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. It just seems weird to me that you would be out there sucking on some random’s neck for food.”

A niggle of hope spreads through me. “You wouldn’t like that?”

“I don’t think so. Can you feed from me?”

His question catches the breath in my throat. “Gods, Bowie. I would love nothing more, but I don’t want to put that pressure on you.”

He nods, still nibbling on his bottom lip until I reach up and tug it free.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Bowie.”

“Everything. Part of me is like, ‘vampires aren’t real,’ but I saw what I saw, and yesterday I was wandering around your place and I found all these pictures. They didn’t make sense at first. Everyone in the pictures looked like you and your brothers, but it couldn’t be possible to be at the launch of the Titanic or be in Vegas in the sixties and look the same. I thought it was some kind of trick Photoshop job or something. They were real, weren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s easy for you to kill for your job because of…” He clears his throat. “Because you’re a vampire.”

“Yes. We can be discreet, nearly invisible. We work quickly. We don’t leave fingerprints, and we can move without detection. That’s why we’re in such high demand. Our murders are never solved.”

Bowie nods, finally lifting his pretty brown eyes to meet my gaze. “So if you fed from me only, what would that look like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would it be daily? Would you always bite my neck? How would I feel after? Things like that.”

I nod. “Not daily unless I’m being greedy. Two or three times a week is sufficient to keep me at peak strength. I can bite anywhere there’s a good vein, but with you…” I take a moment to swallow down my growing desire. “I would choose the most intimate spots.”

His cheeks bloom pink as he nods, listening with wide eyes.

“Afterward, you would feel relaxed and calm. During it, after the initial sting, you would feel waves of euphoria. It can be pleasant when it is consensual.”

“Um, okay. Can you move away from me for a minute please?”

My heart falls to the floor. “You do not want me close?”

“Not right now. I have more questions and you’re distracting me being so close. I want to attack your face and kiss you until my lips hurt, but I need to get these thoughts out.”

Smiling and relieved, I nod. “Yes, of course.”

I stand, moving quickly to the armchair across from him. Bowie shakes his body and blows out a breath.

“Okay, um, you said your world is bloody and violent. How does that affect me?”

“Only to the degree you want it to. Obviously, blood will be part of our lives. You can know everything about what I do when I’m not with you or I can shield you from it. That is your choice.”

He nods again, but I can almost hear his thoughts swirling.

“What does my life look like?” he asks. “I don’t feel right just living off of you, but jobs aren’t easy for me. That’s why I put up with Stan and the bar. I want to be useful and earn my own way, but I don’t know how.”

The question prickles my skin like tiny knives. The idea of Bowie leaving me to go out into the world without my protection is untenable. Absolutely not.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

“Do what?” Bowie asks.

“Be away from me. Be…vulnerable. Unprotected. No.”

Based on the shocked look on his face I’m guessing that was the wrong response.

“You want me to be some kept man in your fancy tower?”

“I want you to be safe. For me to do what I do, you have to be safe.”

“I don’t know, Syn. It feels wrong. Like I’m just taking advantage of you.”

“You cannot take advantage of what is freely given.” I close my eyes for a second to push back my beast, channeling Yves and his rational mind. “Okay. What would you do if you had no limitations?”

“You’ll think it’s dumb.”

“I could never think that of anything that comes from your beautiful mind.”

He scratches the top of his head before dropping his hands in his lap. “Maybe I could go to school, you know? Learn something useful.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“A long time ago, before everything went to shit, I thought I would go to college. I was interested in lots of stuff. Computers. Drawing. Even history. I haven’t thought about anything like that in a long time.”

My beast urges me to comfort him, but I force myself to stay seated.

“In prison they offered some classes. I took a computer one, and it was fun. The instructor said I had a natural mind for it. It all just made sense to me in a world that rarely does.”

“Is that something you want to focus on?”

He’s quiet for a second but when he looks up his eyes are glossy from tears. “I don’t fucking know, Syn. I haven’t had choices in a long time.”

“My darling…”

He shakes his head, wiping away tears. “I’m not sad. I’m overwhelmed. It feels like I stepped into some kind of dreamworld and I’m so fucking scared I’m gonna wake up and none of it will be real. I’ll be huddled in my shitty house, and you’ll have never existed.”

“I’m not a dream, Bowie. For many, I’m a nightmare. I am very real though, and I adore you. I will spend every moment of this very long life giving you back everything that was taken from you. I will make your life right again. I will even the odds. I will turn this fucking planet on its axis if it will make you smile. You are my reason now, Bowie. Everything I do will be in your honor.”

He stares at me in disbelief, tears streaming down his pretty face, but slowly his expression shifts, and I can see the actual moment when he decides to believe me and accept this.

“I think I need time to decide what to do with my life professionally.”

“You have all that you need.”

Bowie wipes his face again. “One more question.”

“Of course.”

“What does it mean that I’m your fated mate? I don’t mean the definition. I mean what happens now? I’m gonna get old and die someday, but you won’t.”

Shit. I thought I might have more time to explain this part. “Um…”

“Don’t shield me. Don’t protect me. Tell me what I need to know.”

“Alright, Bowie. I’ll tell you everything.”

He nods, pulling his legs under him and leaning on a throw pillow.

“At some point, you would need to accept me as your mate. That is a big decision. It requires you to accept my eternal gift.”

His face goes blank. “Become a vampire?”

I nod. “Yes. I would be your maker, and you would join me for all of eternity.”

“I would never die?”

“Never die. Never get sick. Never hurt. We can experience some pain, but it is fleeting. Our bodies heal remarkably fast. I could break my leg and by morning it would be healed.”

“So you never get hurt doing your work?”

“Not really, no. I’ve been shot and stabbed, but again, it heals.”

“The stake through the heart thing. Is that a myth?”

“No, but there are different kinds of vampires. I’m part of the Legacy Six, which means my brothers and I are direct descendants of the first ever vampire through Yves. A stake through the heart is a temporary injury. We can only die through three methods: fire, decapitation, and poisoned blood. Other vampires can also be killed by those methods, but a stake works, as does the holy water of a true believer, for their energy is equal to poison.”

“Whoa. If someone throws holy water on you?”

“It does nothing.”

“But on a different kind of vampire?”

“Death.”

“Wow.”

“Yves is the most powerful among our coven. His blood can heal any of us from our ailments. He can tap into our thoughts if he chooses to. He is stronger, faster, and more deadly than all of us, but his time on earth has softened his edges.”

“He doesn’t kill?”

“On occasion, to satisfy his beast, but he is happiest when he embraces his humanity.”

“How does he feed?”

“We have our methods. There’s a club called The Lair. It’s a vampire haven of sorts. We come together there and we can just be ourselves. Many of the vampires around the East Coast will bring offerings of blood for the bank so there is always a supply. We have learned the importance of having stores of blood in case of hard times.”

“Like what?”

“War, disease, inquisitions.”

“Damn. That makes sense.”

“Yves is also quite skilled in the art of seduction. He can get a mortal to offer their neck in less than five minutes.”

“They don’t freak out?”

“Vampires have a skill called compulsion. We can make people forget. For the record, I have never used it on you.”

He gasps. “You used it on Stan once.”

Smiling, I nod. “Yes. The night I first came into the bar. I influenced his thoughts.”

Bowie nods, grinning. “That was cool. I wondered what came over Stan. It was you.”

“I wanted only your safety. He gave me bad vibes.”

“Yeah. He is bad vibes.” Bowie leans back, gazing up at the ceiling.

I remain quiet while he sorts through his thoughts.

“What’s it like?” he asks, turning his gaze to me. “Becoming a vampire.”

“Dramatic. I would drain your body of nearly all its blood.”

Bowie flinches but nods.

“Then replace it with mine.”

“How?”

I clear my throat, trying to focus on answering him and not the beast threatening to show him firsthand.

“As your mortal body slowly slips away, I would feed you my blood. It would flow into your veins, restoring your organs, pumping your heart. Your mortal soul would fight to survive, but it would lose, overpowered by a much stronger force. Your body would transform at that point. Any illness or injury would heal. You would become your most perfect self, and our bond would be unbreakable because we would be connected by shared blood.”

Bowie simply gazes at me, his full lips parted, his breath leaving his mouth in hushed puffs. “Does it hurt?”

“No and yes. The worst part of it happens when you are barely conscious, but you would feel it. If done for the right reasons, your fear and pain succumb to such glorious and profound pleasure, like nothing your mind can even conceive of right now.”

“Is that how you felt when Yves turned you?”

I nod. “I felt freedom too. Freedom from the restrictions and expectations of an unevolved society. There are no limits in this eternal life, Bowie. There is nothing we cannot do.”

“What if…” Bowie pauses, twisting his hands in his lap. “What if you get tired of me? Then what?”

“Eventually you will understand that your mortal concept of love and commitment is but a whisper compared to immortal love. The bond between mates doesn’t fatigue or wear off. My love will be as new a thousand years from now as it is today. I do understand that you need time to let your feelings for me bloom, but I have no doubt they will.”

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“Gods, yes.”

Bowie crosses the room, wrapping his body around mine as he curls up on my lap. He presses his face to my neck, his fingers playing with my hair.

After a few silent moments, he says softly, “I feel so safe with you. I haven’t felt safe in a long time, Syn. I don’t want to lose this.”

“You cannot lose me. Ever.”

“I believe you,” he whispers, and I feel the wetness of his tears on my skin. “I believe all of it. In a way, it makes sense that you’re not a regular man.”

“Nor is my devotion. The night I first saw your face, that was it for me, Bowie. I watched you night and day, helpless to make it better.”

He pulls back. “You watched me?”

I nod. “Yes. I couldn’t help myself. I wish I had been watching the night you were attacked, but I was working. I felt you though. I felt your need for me. I left Thorn to rush to your aid.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I had this feeling I was being watched, but it wasn’t bad.”

“I know it seems crazy, and it is a little, but I couldn’t stay away once I knew you existed. So many nights I wanted to swoop inside that house and take you to my home. It made me sick to see such beauty trapped by the ugliness around it.”

Bowie brushes his fingers across my cheek. “You’re the beautiful one, Syn. In spite of everything, you only saw the good in me. The part of me that is maybe just a little bit worthy of you.”

I start to object, to tell him he is more than worthy, but he puts his fingers over my lips to stop me.

“I want to be yours forever. I want to let my guard down and accept that for once, life is working out for me. Maybe all the bad shit that happened is finally over and I get to have something good. I get to have you. I’ll do everything I can to make you as happy as you make me. I promise.”

My breath catches in my throat. “What are you saying, Bowie?”

Trembling slightly, he smiles. “I accept your eternal gift, Syn. Make me yours.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

BOWIE

Did I really just commit to becoming a vampire?

I wait for fear or panic to set in, but they don’t come. Just a feeling of warmth and peace.

“You know what’s weird?” I ask while Syn just stares at me. “When I was a kid, my mom used to cuddle us. No matter how big we got, she wanted hugs and hand holding and cuddles on movie night.” I clear my throat to keep from crying. “After she died, I couldn’t stand anyone touching me. Not even a casual touch.”

Syn’s expression is so caring that my stomach flutters.

“But when you touch me…” I blow out a breath. “It feels so good. Right. It’s healing and intoxicating and everything. It’s not at all parental.” I laugh.

“Good.” Syn smiles.

“But it’s like it’s making up for all the times I needed someone to hold me and no one could. It’s like finding a part of me I thought I’d lost. It’s addictive.”

“Not touching you in some way is physically difficult for me. I would stuff you in my pocket if I could so I never had to be away from you.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “If you were a regular man, that would sound very weird and possessive. I mean, it is weird and possessive, but coming from you, it’s cool. Does that mean I have some kind of undiscovered vampire kink?”

He laughs at that. “I hope the only kink you have is for me.”

“It is. Your brothers are striking, I know why now, but they don’t capture my attention the way you do. The way you always have.”

“Even the night in the alley when you said you didn’t even see me?”

I laugh, shrugging. “I really didn’t. I was so used to minding my own business. You have to if you want to stay out of trouble.”

“I understand that.”

“But I definitely noticed you when you came in. You didn’t fit in. You were too slick and rich looking.”

“I only blend in when I choose to.”

Leaning back on the couch, I search my mind for any more pressing questions. “You really want me to be yours forever?”

“Oh yes. I want it more than anything else the world could ever provide.”

Syn’s fangs slide down as he’s speaking, his tone deepening like the bass being turned up on a song.

“I want you, Bowie, with every ounce of my soul. I promise to protect you with my own life. I will give you anything and everything your heart desires and then some. You will never be lonely or scared or cold or hungry again. This is your home now. My family is yours. Accept my gift, and I will be eternally yours.”

“Now?”

“That is your decision. You are in charge, Bowie. I bend to your will. The only man on the planet who can command me. You bring me to my knees, and I happily kneel before you.”

“Oof. You’re intense.”

“I am. I have ‘no chill’ as Thorn says.”

I laugh at that, feeling some of the nerves in my chest loosen. “One more thing.”

“Anything.”

“Will you, um, will you make love to me properly afterward?”

Syn’s eyes close as he blows out a breath. His skin pales again, and I look at his hands as his nails grow long and sharp. When he opens his eyes, they glow bright.

“It would be my honor.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “What first?”

Syn rises, his tall, imposing body seeming even bigger than usual. “We should have a drink and relax a bit. You’re too tense with expectation to enjoy it.”

“A drink sounds good.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Syn leaves the room and I fall back on the couch. I can’t believe I’m about to become a vampire, but for some reason, I’m calm. It should be weird or scary, but it’s not. It’s like some part of me knows I was destined for this. Fated for Syn. How fucking cool is that?

No one can ever hurt me again after this. I won’t have to be afraid walking down the street. I won’t have to suffer. I laugh softly. He loves me. Someone other than my parents and sister loves me. What a feeling. I think I could climb a mountain right now on pure happiness. I still don’t know how fate or whatever thought I deserved a guy like Syn, but I won’t question it. I just want to be the man he thinks I am. I want to make him as happy as he makes me. I want to love him back.

Syn returns a few minutes later with a bright smile on his face, his vampire features still on display. He hands me a glass of red wine and sits next to me.

“Forgive my delay. I called Yves to ask him to ensure we aren’t disturbed. He’s going to check on Nelly as well.”

I nod, sipping my wine. “Did you tell him why?”

“Yes. I’ve never turned another person before, so I wanted a rundown of what to expect, timing, et cetera, so there were no mistakes.”

“How does he feel about it?”

“I want you to know that no one else’s opinions matter at all, but he is elated for me. He is so excited to welcome you into our family.”

“He, um, he doesn’t have feelings for you anymore?”

“Not the kind you’re thinking of. There will always be fondness in his heart for me. He chose me for a reason, but he would never be anything other than happy and supportive of my mate.” Syn’s smile is so beautiful, my heart flutters. “You are my priority now. Please understand that.”

“I do.”

“Good.” He takes a drink of his wine. “We can change anything about the apartment to make it yours too. Anything.”

“I wouldn’t change anything. It’s really nice.”

“Well, we’ll go shopping so you can have your own things. Just enough to get you settled so you don’t feel like a kept man.” He winks and I laugh.

“Thanks.”

“Of course. Tell me something I don’t know about you. Anything at all.”

I think over his question for a second while taking a drink of wine. “I used to draw as a kid. I really liked it. I would just imagine worlds and animals and people that didn’t really exist and draw them. My art teacher at school said I was gifted, and my parents gave me art supplies for every birthday. Christmas too. I miss it.”

“Do you have any of it left?”

I shake my head. “After what happened, the city cleared the house out. I don’t even know what they did with it all. Stan said they probably auctioned stuff and threw out the rest.”

Syn’s energy shifts noticeably, and if a mood was visible, his would be black. “Stan failed you. He should have been there to help. He should have been a man.”

“Yeah, Stan has never been a stand-up guy. Is it wrong that I hope he’s dead?”

“No. He’s not though. I can sense it.”

“Me too. It’s like he’s too much of an asshole to just die. Nelly would be better off too.”

“Stan will be taken care of one way or another. Either by his own poor choices or by me. He will pay for what he did to you with his own life. You can trust me on that. Nelly will be taken care of.”

A shiver runs down my back, and I realize it’s not fear or disgust. It’s a hundred percent lust. Syn reaches over and threads his fingers through my hair.

“Beautiful Bowie. I feel your desire for me, and it is sweeter than any emotion already in existence. It is new and wild and sensual. I do not take for granted what you are about to give me.”

“I know.” I slam my wine down. “I am sort of worried about one thing. It’s kind of weird, but maybe I should bring it up.”

“Yes, please.”

“I told you about the incident that sent me to prison.”

“Yes.”

“I was told by the prison therapist that managing my anger is always going to be a problem for me. I can be triggered pretty easily. I’ve learned to tamp it down to survive, but I’m kind of wondering if changing me will bring that out again.”

Syn nods, concern in his eyes. “I can’t answer that except to say that whoever you are at your core self is what remains after your change. It’s hard to say whether the anger will remain, but if it does, it can be managed easily.”

“How?”

He smiles, taking my hand. “I’m an assassin, Bowie. Vampires are inherently violent. Perhaps a holdover from the past when brutality was required to eat and survive. We use our work as an outlet. At times, we’ve done our own neighborhood cleanup by taking out predators, child abusers, and other scum. It can be managed.”

I nod as that sinks in. “Right. Okay.”

“Don’t be afraid of it, Bowie. Your anger is justified after all the people who failed you. If it lingers, I will help you.”

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“You won’t. My beloved, you can put down your sword. Your fight to survive is over. Let down your guard and heal your wounds, knowing you are safe in my arms.”

My eyes well with tears again. “It might take me some time to realize it.”

“We have all we need.”

I nod, blowing out a breath, holding on to the belief that I am really safe now. I can trust Syn.

“I’m ready.”

Syn smiles, setting his wineglass on the coffee table. As he moves nearer, I tense up in anticipation, but all he does is slide his hand to the back of my neck, stroking gently. His eyes glow, but there’s so much more in them. I can almost see his feelings for me. I believe him.

He leans in, pressing his lips to mine, and I react like a starving man, climbing onto his lap and opening my mouth to him. Syn slides his hands under my shirt, massaging my back as he kisses me deep enough to forget all the bad things in the past.

He lays me down, pressing my body into the sofa with the weight of his, and it feels amazing. It feels like protection and warmth and love.

“I am your everything,” he whispers on my lips. “And you are mine. What we are about to share is deeper than anything your mortal mind can comprehend. It is deeper than even a mother’s love. It is undying.”

I shudder, digging my nails into his shoulders and desperately rubbing my erection against his. “Please, Syn. Give it to me. I want your gift.”

He tilts my head back, dotting my skin with soft, sweet kisses, and just as I relax fully into his embrace, his teeth pierce my flesh.

I gasp as the stinging pain spreads through me, but as his grip tightens, the sting fades and a light, airy feeling takes over. It’s like I drank the whole bottle of wine instead of just a glass. Gripping his shoulders with my head thrown back, I listen to the sound of him drinking from me, and something about it makes my dick even harder. I’m providing this for him. Something he needs to survive.

But the more he drinks, the weaker I become. My toes and fingers go numb first, but the tingling spreads quickly through me until I can no longer feel my body. Only his weight pressing against me reminds me that I’m here.

My eyes flutter as I twist my fingers in his soft hair, the low moaning from him the only sound I can hear now. I fall slack, unable to hold myself up anymore. All my thoughts, doubts, and fears drift away, and I’m only aware of now.

This.

Becoming his.

I try to speak, to thank him for this experience, but words don’t come. I give in to the force pulling me under, knowing on some level that I’m dying, but believing every word Syn told me. I’ll be back. Changed. Stronger. Perfect. Deserving of him.

“By the gods,” Syn whispers, his voice faint and distant. “You are so beautiful.”

That’s the last thing I hear before the world around me falls silent.

I wake with a gasp, clutching the wrist to my mouth and drinking hungrily. My awareness is hazy, driven only by a need to sate this gnawing hunger in my gut.

I peel my eyes open, focusing slowly on Syn, who watches me with glowing eyes. Then it all comes back to me in a rush. I’m drinking his blood. I’m a vampire.

“Not yet,” Syn whispers. “One more transformation to get through.”

Did I speak aloud? I don’t think I did, but nothing feels normal. It’s as if I’m floating.

Syn pulls his wrist away, but I whimper for it. Before I can complain though, searing pain rips through my chest, causing me to double over.

“Ugh.”

Syn strokes my hair. “The hard part will be over soon. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Unable to speak from the intensity of pain racking my body, I wonder if this is what a heart attack feels like. The pressure is so intense, like my chest wants to burst open and let my insides out. It moves to my stomach, twisting around in painful cramps before spreading through every part of me.

The pain is like being stabbed over and over again, and all I can do is flail and cry out in pain. I can feel Syn though. His larger-than-life presence looms over me.

Then, almost as soon as it begins, it fades from a storm to a mere sprinkle. I gasp for breath as tears stream from my closed eyes. Before, I was in a tank of water, but now everything is amplified. I can hear Syn’s soft breaths. Hear my own heart beating. The sound of sloshing liquid hits me and I realize I can hear the blood in my veins. Or his. I’m not sure.

As my eyes open, I squint from the brightness even though the room seems dim. I focus on Syn, watching me intently.

“Hello,” he whispers, but it honestly sounds like a scream.

“Why is everything…” I cough as my voice breaks. Shaking my head, I try again. “Loud. So loud.”

He smiles, nodding. “Your senses are amplified, but you will adjust quickly.”

“I’m…I’m hungry.”

“Yes, your hunger is insatiable right now. I will bring you something. Stay here.”

I nod, agreeing simply because I don’t even think my legs work. Syn returns quickly, carrying a carafe of deep red liquid. I can smell it and my mouth waters, my gums throb, and then, oh my fucking hell, my canine teeth drop, elongating.

Syn looks like a proud father. “I thought your beauty was perfection before, but you should see yourself now. You are absolutely stunning.”

I grab the carafe from his hand and guzzle it down without answering him. The liquid is sweeter than I expected but with a bitter aftertaste, kind of like fancy wine but much thicker. The more I drink though, the more the grumbling in my stomach calms down. I finish the pitcher and hand it to Syn, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“That was blood, right?”

“Yes. How do you feel now?”

I glance around the room, noticing how vibrant and sharp everything appears. My eyesight, which wasn’t bad to begin with, is definitely better now.

“I feel…strong. Rested.” I drag my tongue across the fangs. “Different.”

“Yes.”

I turn my head sharply to focus on Syn, and as I do, my desire for him bubbles up like a volcano. “And I desperately need to feel you inside of me. Now.”

“Are you sure you don’t want—”

“Now, Syn. I need you.”

Syn nods, his eyes glowing even brighter as he stands and scoops me into his arms. “There is nothing I want more than to show my adoration for you in this way.”

His poetry soothes my horny beast only a little bit, but all I can think about is finally feeling him enter me and own me completely. Eternally.

Holy fuck, I’m a vampire now.

Chapter Twenty-Four

BOWIE

Syn lays me down in the bed gently, like I’m still as fragile as I was. It might take both of us time to process the changes in me, but it’s okay with me if he treats me like I might break. It feels so good that someone cares about me.

As I lie beneath him, gazing up at his face, he pulls off the pants he’s wearing. He was already shirtless and barefoot. Damn, he’s hot. It still blows my mind that I’m so powerfully attracted to another person.

Syn sweeps his hair off his shoulders and drops it behind his back, twisting his neck back and forth before kicking off his briefs. I smile as I take in his naked body. The ripples in his abs seem to catch the minimal light in the room, glimmering like he’s covered in oil. Oof. Now there’s an idea.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Syn asks, staying rooted in his spot.

“Don’t you already know?”

“I prefer to hear your words.”

“I’m thinking about how gorgeous you are, and that somehow I get to touch you.”

Syn chuckles, sliding his hand down his torso before gripping his length. “That feeling is mutual. May I remove your clothes?”

I nod, my body shaking with anticipation. “Yes.”

Syn steps between my legs, his hard length bouncing between us as he strips my pajama pants off. I was already naked underneath them, so as soon as they’re off, I’m completely exposed to him. I lift my head to look at my own body, noticing how all the blemishes are gone.

I gasp, dragging my hand over the spot on my torso where the scar was. The scar caused by my dad’s bullet. “It’s gone.”

“What?” Syn asks.

“The scar where I was shot. All the scars from all the fights and bullies. Gone.”

He smiles gently. “Yes. It happens.”

Exhaling a breath, I nod. “So cool. Now I don’t have to remember that night every time my fingers brush over the spot.”

“I’m happy for that.”

“Me too.”

Syn closes the space between us, pressing his body to mine as he claims my lips in a heated kiss. It’s like there’s a pot of water boiling under the surface in both of us, ready to spill over. I wrap my arms and legs around him, scooting down until his cock is rubbing against mine.

The sensation of his skin and mine connected everywhere our bodies touch is a new kind of stimulation. It’s almost unbearable, like an itch you can’t reach, and it makes me writhe wildly against him, clawing at his flesh, trying to get somehow closer.

“Patience,” Syn whispers against my lips.

“No. I waited my whole adult life to feel this way. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Syn pulls away from the kiss, cupping my face between his large hands. “I want your first time to be amazing. Not rushed.”

I push his hands away and cup his face instead. “Syn. Listen to me. I’m going to crawl out of my own skin if you don’t fix this. Make it better.”

His brow creases. “Fix what? What’s wrong?”

I bounce beneath him in frustration. “I don’t know,” I whine. “I just know you’re the only man who can make it go away. It’s like my insides are trying to break free.”

His face relaxes, and he nods. “Ah. I understand.” He presses kisses from my forehead, down my nose, and ends at my mouth. “I will take care of you, my beloved.”

With that, he disappears between my legs, but instead of sucking my dick, he throws my legs up and tongues my hole. I gasp, clawing the bedding, overwhelmed by the unexpected but incredible invasion.

Syn eats my hole like it’s his last meal, dragging his sharp teeth over my tender flesh, jabbing my entrance with his remarkably strong tongue, digging his nails into the flesh of my thighs. I’m overcome by an intense need to beg him to mark me. To leave bruises, scratches, and marks everywhere he touches me.

I open my lips to demand his aggression, but I don’t need to speak. Syn must know what I need intuitively because he sinks his teeth into my thigh, drawing blood and sending waves of pleasure rattling through me.

“Fuck,” I whisper, burying my fingers in his hair while he returns his attention to my hole.

All I can do is whimper and grind against his mouth as he licks, sucks, bites, and stretches my hole with his fingers, his mouth, and that incredible tongue of his.

I throw my head back, trying to get off on his tongue, but he chuckles, sending the vibration through me as he rises. Syn gazes down at me, his fangs out, eyes glowing, and even though my eyes are glazed over with passion, his beauty leaves me reeling. All that beautiful man is mine now. Whoa.

Syn stands fully, stroking his thick, veiny cock. It drips with precum he uses to slick his length, and my mouth waters.

“Want some,” I murmur.

With a sexy smirk on his lips, he uses his thumb to gather some precum and then offers it to me. I suck rabidly, my eyes fluttering from the sweet taste. I arch my back when he enters me with two slick fingers, stretching me and moving them in a circle to loosen me up even more.

“You won’t feel pain,” he whispers. “But you will feel pressure, a bit of a sting. Your immortal body is much more capable of handling me.” When he blows out a breath and swallows hard, I realize he’s just as affected by all of this as I am. “It is a true honor to be yours, Bowie.”

He removes his fingers, and I flinch, but just a second later, I feel the head of his thick cock pushing slowly into me. Closing my eyes, I focus on the feeling of my body stretching to accept him, his heady scent of blood and wine swirling between us, the unusual warmth of his skin.

Every inch he gives me pushes me closer to calming the itch deep within me. It’s like his dick is medicine I need to live, and I feel my body literally reacting to his, like a life-saving vaccine pulsing through my veins.

“Oh god,” I cry out.

“Am I hurting you?” Syn asks frantically as he stills.

“No. I can’t believe what it feels like, Syn. It’s so…” I shake my head, trying to search my head for words. “Good. Fuck, that’s lame. It’s better than good. It’s like…fuck.”

Syn grips my chin, slamming his mouth into mine. I suck his tongue, then his bottom lip, hard enough that the taste of his blood explodes on my tongue. It’s too much but somehow not enough. This feeling is making me crazy.

“Please,” I whimper. “Please Syn. Don’t hold back.”

Pressing his face to my neck, he pumps his hips, slowly at first but building in intensity until he’s slamming into me. My insides wrap around him like a blanket, clenching through every thrust. When he hits a spot deep inside me, I cry out.

“Do it again,” I demand.

Syn does as I ask, relentlessly slamming into that spot again and again until I’m actually not sure if I’ll survive this. His breath in my ear sounds like strong winds, his beating heart like a drum solo in a rock band.

The vein in his neck throbs, and without even thinking about it, I sink my teeth into it. My mouth is flooded with his taste again, and that’s all it takes, combined with his fucking assault, to push me over the edge of sanity.

I fall silently, unable to scream, as I swallow gulps of his thick blood. I barely have coherent thoughts at this point, but I know somehow that this part was necessary. I needed every part of him inside every part of me to be complete.

Syn slides out of me, moving down my body and biting into my thigh again. I can hear the blood leaving my body, feeding my lover, and it fills me with a sense of purpose and so much…fuck. Love. So much fucking love. That has to be what this too-big feeling is. There’s no other explanation.

Finally away from the fight to survive, I was able to be who I really am. Without me knowing it, Syn made me fall in love with him.

I want to tell him. I have to, but the words don’t come as he slams into me again. With just a few thrusts, he tenses, and I force my eyes open to watch him give in to his own orgasm. Every vein in his neck and chest stands out from strain, his muscles are taut, and his eyes glowing and fixed on my face.

“I love you, Bowie,” Syn whispers. “With every ounce of me. What a gift,” he whispers. “A gift,” he says again before falling forward into my arms.

I hold him close, kissing the top of his head as he rests it on my chest. Our bodies are sticky with cum and blood and it’s the best kind of messy a person can be.

I want to tell him how I feel. He needs to know what he’s done to me. For me. But when I open my mouth to speak, I can’t find my voice. I’m wrecked.

“Shh,” Syn whispers. “There’s time for everything.”

How the fuck does he do that? I’m too exhausted to ask, so I simply let go of my thoughts and drift to a place where only Syn and I exist, floating on a soft wave of love and happiness.

Finally, after everything, I’m at peace.

Chapter Twenty-Five

SYN

Lying in bed with Bowie clinging to me is my new definition of paradise. His skin is even softer than it was, his breaths soothing. The night I first became aware of his existence, I never could have guessed only a few weeks later all this would happen, but what a joyful gift.

As he sleeps, I hear the final changes his body makes on its way to full transformation. Changes he’d be unaware of because of how subtle they are, but I can sense them happening. When he wakes again, he’ll be a new man in the most literal sense.

I spend my time alone imagining all the things we can do together now. All the ways I can truly care for him and give him the life he was denied. A home and all the material things his heart desires, yes, but more than that, I can give him stability, a family, love. Like me and my brothers, he has found his way to the good life.

The sun finally rises, alerting me to the fact that this silent reprieve will end soon. I promised Yves I would bring Bowie over once he was awake and rested. After all, he’s officially joining our coven. I need to introduce him to The Lair and help him adjust to the ways in which his body now works. Maybe help him figure out what he wants to pursue professionally.

That thought sours my mood. I can’t even imagine letting him go somewhere I’m not. Not now. Yes, he’s far less fragile than he was, but he’s still mine to protect. I need to keep him with me. There’s no other option. At least not while Stan is still on the loose.

Eventually, Bowie stirs, murmuring my name as he burrows his face into my chest.

“No,” he moans.

“No what, my beloved?”

“I don’t want it to be morning yet.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Hungry, but I’m okay. I just want to stay in bed next to you.”

I pull back enough to gaze down at his pretty face. “We have eternity together. I made a promise I have to keep.”

“What?”

“Yves would like to have a chat.”

His brow crinkles. “Why? Did I do something wrong already?”

Chuckling, I kiss his forehead. “No, my darling. It’s just an official welcome to our coven.”

“Oh.” He nods. “Right. I’m part of your coven now.”

“You’re my family now. You have brothers and even two crazy sisters.”

He smiles, tracing his finger around my nipple. “Are Viv and Viper vampires?”

“No. Vivienne is a powerful witch. Viper is just a lovely woman who works for us.”

“A witch?”

I nod. “Yes. Vivienne is part of us but has chosen not to turn, although the offer remains on the table. She loves being a witch and none of us know what effect it would have on her magic.”

“You mean like…real magic, don’t you? That stuff she gave me…”

I nod. “Yes. Witchcraft is real but limited to a select few. Their numbers died to near extinction during the many persecutions from religious institutions over the centuries. There are a few generational witches who have survived and continue to flourish, their numbers growing every time a child is born.”

“Wow. That’s so cool. You have to be born a witch.”

“To execute the level of magic that Viv has, yes. There are other more ordinary witches who can affect energy but are not as strong and powerful as Vivienne’s type.”

“I’d still be healing if it wasn’t for her.”

“Likely, yes.”

“I owe her an even bigger thanks.”

“She does it happily. She helps us with a lot of things. She provides glamour potions so we can slip by mortal eyes even while covered in blood and guts. We don’t require her healing ability, but over the years, she has helped us stay up to date with culture and society and given us spells and potions to help us blend in, like altering our digestion to tolerate more food. Things like that.”

“So cool.”

“She is. We all hope she decides to join us one day, but if not, perhaps her future children will.”

“What does Viper think of you all?”

“She doesn’t know. Once she has spent sufficient time with us and we’ve developed the unbreakable trust required to reveal ourselves, we will.”

He rubs his hand on my chest over my heart. “Is that what we have? Unbreakable trust?”

“And so much more.”

His mood lifts and his smile brightens. “I’m so happy. I don’t remember the last time I said that. I don’t remember feeling it. I was probably still a kid.”

“My happiness can only come through yours, so please know, you are a priority for me. We can do anything you want, Bowie. We can redecorate, buy you a car, or—”

He presses his fingers to my lips. “I don’t know how to drive. Besides, I don’t need anything except you. I’ve survived this long on nothing.”

“You’re not just surviving anymore, Bowie. Now, you’re living. Truly embracing life and all its most glorious moments. Please allow me to shower you in my affection and devotion.”

He nods, searching my eyes. “You don’t have to spend money on me.”

“I know, but I desperately want to. It just sits in a vault doing nothing. Now I have a purpose for it. And I can teach you to drive.”

He laughs softly. “Okay, Syn. I won’t fight you. I don’t want to. I’m tired of fighting.”

The knot in my chest releases. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” I nuzzle my nose to his cheek. “I should have shared something last night, but it slipped my mind in my excitement.”

“What?”

“We didn’t use a condom for sex. I know you were new to it, but I thought you should know that our immortal bodies cannot contract or transmit any human diseases or infections. You are safe with me.”

Bowie laughs. “Didn’t even think of it. I guess I knew I was safe in all the ways that matter, but thanks for telling me. You’re such a good person, Syn.”

His compliment takes me aback. “Oh no, my beautiful Bowie. I’m not at all a good person, but I will be for you. I will summon any good bits inside of me and lay them before you.”

Bowie brushes his fingers across my cheek. “We must have different definitions of good. You’re kind and caring. You’re protective and nurturing. You’re exactly what I always needed.”

Smiling, I press a kiss to his soft lips. As long as he is happy, so am I.

An hour later we’re up, dressed, and on our way to check on Nelly. Just as we’re about to knock on her door, Bowie tenses.

“Will she be able to tell from looking at me?”

“No. Only if you were aroused and your beast was on the surface.”

He nods, blowing out a breath. “Okay, good. I mean, I might tell her eventually, but she’s been through a lot.”

“Yes. We must always use caution when deciding to tell a mortal, even if we are close to them. They don’t always handle it well.”

“I bet.” He knocks on the door, smiling when Nelly opens it. “Hey.”

She smiles, looking far less tired than when we picked her up. “Come in.”

The two of us enter. It smells like coffee.

“You look great, Nel. Did you sleep well?”

She smiles even brighter. “That bed is phenomenal, and it’s so quiet here.” Her eyes shift to mine. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” I answer, bowing my head slightly. “You can stay as long as you like.”

“I appreciate that. Has anyone heard anything about Stan?”

Bowie looks at me with questions in his eyes.

“Someone came here last night looking for him,” I begin. “Someone dangerous. They believe he’s alive so he could be.”

She exhales, wringing her hands together. “So he is in trouble. Like, bad trouble this time.”

“It was a member of organized crime who showed. We handled it, of course, but we should be on alert. They knew you and Bowie were here, which makes me think either we’re being followed, or Stan let something slip. Maybe Stan is even the one following us.”

Nelly nods but smiles her concern away. I have a feeling she hides her feelings a lot. “Want some coffee?”

“No, thanks,” Bowie answers. “We’re heading over to say hi to Yves and the guys. You’re good though, right?”

“Yes, very.”

After sliding my arm around Bowie’s waist, I say, “There’s a notebook on the island in the kitchen. Add anything special you’d like for groceries. It will all be delivered later.”

“Oh. I can give you some money.”

I click my teeth. “You are our guest. We are more than happy to provide essentials. Please relax and accept our hospitality.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Bowie hugs his aunt and we leave. During the short walk to Yves, I sense emotion pouring from Bowie. I turn to face him, placing my hands on his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He smiles, shaking his head. “I’ve just never seen her so happy and relaxed. She tries, you know. Tries to always have a smile for me, but just now, I felt so different around her. It’s like her energy is softer. Peaceful. It was tense before.”

“I noticed the same thing. It angers me, honestly. She likely had to diminish herself to please Stan.”

“We all did. Even my dad.”

“He will pay for what he did, Bowie. I promise you.”

“I know.”

We continue our walk to Yves’s place. I open the door, pausing as the sound of everyone’s voices hits us. Bowie flinches.

“Are they screaming?”

“No, darling. You’re just sensitive. I promise, in a few days or less, your senses will normalize. You’ll always be sensitive, but you’ll adjust to what it feels like soon.”

“Whew, okay.”

I take his hand, leading him to the sitting room where the voices are coming from. Everyone stops as we enter, and as I gaze around the room, we’re met by warm and welcoming smiles. Except for Thorn. He looks like a child who just received a pony for his birthday.

In a flash, he’s out of his seat and scooping Bowie off his feet in a bear hug. Bowie shrieks, laughing, his eyes wide but happy.

“A little brother,” Thorn says. “Only several hundred years in the making. Welcome to our family, Bowie.”

“Thanks,” Bowie says shyly, his cheeks turning just the slightest shade of pink. It makes me happy he’s still able to blush. Adorable.

I must be beaming like an idiot since my brothers are looking at me like they don’t recognize me. I don’t care. I’ve never been happier.

Eros stands next, approaching Bowie with far more decorum than our wild brother. “Eros, if you remember.”

“I do,” Bowie says.

“I am so happy for you and Syn. Welcome.”

“Thank you.”

Midnight saunters over, checking Bowie out from head to toe, until I growl and bare my fangs. Midnight chuckles, patting my chest.

“Settle down, boy. No one is threatening your territory.” He turns to Bowie. “Midnight. Don’t fuck this up, huh? Syn waited a long time for you.”

I growl again, but Bowie nods earnestly. “I waited for him too.”

Raphael, the most cynical among us, steps forward next. “I’m Raphael.”

“I remember.”

“I won’t always show it, but I am happy to have you here with us.”

“Thanks.”

“Gods forbid Raphael drop the brooding artist vibe for a few minutes,” Thorn says, chuckling.

Raphael only scowls at him before taking his seat again. Vivienne and Viper enter the room, summoned by Yves.

Vivienne wraps her arms around Bowie pressing his face into her ample bosom and kissing his cheek.

“Welcome to our beautiful chaos.”

“Thanks, Vivienne. And for your help in getting me better.”

“Of course.”

Viper is next, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. She’s less familiar with all of us, so she offers a more professional handshake. Bowie takes her hand and smiles.

“Viper. Nice to formally meet you, Bowie.”

“You too.”

Finally, Yves stands. “Will you two join me in the study please?”

I place my hand on Bowie’s lower back to lead him out of the room while my brothers look on with ridiculous smiles. I’m not complaining though. They’re happy for me.

In the study, Yves closes the door and gestures for us to sit down. I sense Bowie’s mood shift to nervous energy. In fairness, Yves does give off stern-dad vibes. Only some of us know what a kitten he is underneath the stoic facade.

“Let me officially welcome you to the House of Orpheus Coven,” Yves says, taking a carafe of blood from his cabinet. “We’ll start with a simple honorary toast.”

Bowie nods, fidgeting in his seat. His leg bounces wildly, and I wish I could take it all away, but he needs to learn that Yves is a friend.

Yves pours the blood into three small glasses, a mixture of all of us within the liquid. It holds no actual ability to bond us, it’s only ceremonial, but it is important to Yves. We haven’t used it since Marcello. I’m sure Yves is thinking the same thing right now.

“I thought I’d share a few things about us,” Yves begins, handing first Bowie and then me, a glass. “I’m sure Syn has told you the relevant facts, but as our leader, I want to also tell you some things.”

“Sure. Okay.”

“First, this coven comes before all else, Bowie. Before any mortal or interest outside of our family. While it is a transition, you must consciously make this choice. When the cards are down, we are who you rely on. Your mortal friends and family will eventually slip away. You must distance yourself at some point in order to avoid detection. Do you understand?”

Bowie glances at me, swallowing hard, before nodding. “Yes.”

“Good. It’s easier now than it ever has been. Viper will eventually be trained on the Council’s identity program. It’s a sophisticated process that creates all the needed history, credit, and identification when it comes time to change.”

“That’s why you’re not Alessio anymore?” he asks me.

“Right.”

Yves nods. “I won’t overwhelm you with tons of information right now. You have time to learn, and we still have the issue of resolving your uncle’s situation.”

“Yeah,” Bowie says, swirling his glass as he stares into it. “This smells really good.”

I rub his upper back. “It tastes even better.”

Yves stands, holding his glass up. “I shouldn’t make you wait any longer. The bloodlust is strong in the newly turned.”

I stand too, but gesture for Bowie to stay seated while Yves and I lift our glasses.

“Bowie…” Yves tilts his head. “Your last name?”

“Reed.”

“Bowie Reed,” Yves starts again. “As the leader of the House of Orpheus, I hereby welcome you to our ranks. You are officially one of us, with all the protection and prestige our name provides. You are my brother now and for all of eternity.”

He drinks and I follow suit, motioning for Bowie to do the same. He guzzles his glass empty, dragging his finger on the inside and sucking off the remnants. When he looks up, his eyes slightly glazed, he clears his throat.

“Uh, sorry. That was rude.”

Yves chuckles. “Apology not needed. It’s good that your appetite is strong. It means your transition went perfectly.” His eyes settle on mine. “Congratulations, Syn, on finding your fated mate. May the gods continue to be generous with their favor.”

“Thank you, brother.”

We leave Yves’s place, getting caught in the common area before we can slip back to my apartment. Thorn bounces over, a maniacal grin firmly in place.

“I propose a hunt tonight. We can break Bowie into the old ways and show him what it was like.”

I frown. “I’m not sure if that’s too much too soon.”

“What do you mean by ‘hunt?’” Bowie asks.

Thorn grins like he’s already won the debate. “We’ll go out and stalk victims for blood.”

“Oh. Just like what it sounds like.”

“You don’t have to, Bowie.”

“Yeah, but I should, right? I’m, um, a vampire now.”

“That’s right,” Thorn says, practically purring. “We don’t do it much anymore, but every now and then we go on a random cleanup spree of the city. No innocent victims these days. Just assholes. Sinner blood tastes as good as a saint.” He looks over at me. “We have to keep his strength up, Syn. He’s a newbie.”

“Bowie is able to make this decision on his own.”

“Whoa, did that hurt to say?” Midnight teases from his position draped over a chair.

Bowie grins, leaning into me. “I think it sounds…kind of cool.”

“If you wish to go, we will.”

“Ten o’clock,” Thorn says, already walking away. “Meet here.”

I blow out a breath. Thorn is right, actually. This is a good way for Bowie to understand what he is and satisfy his bloodlust, and if there is any pent-up rage inside him, he can express it safely this way.

Tonight, we hunt.

Chapter Twenty-Six

BOWIE

The official welcome was nice, but I feel so weird inside. Like there’s a parasite or something swimming through my organs. It’s not painful, but it is noticeable.

“Is something wrong?” Syn asks.

“No. I just feel sort of weird.”

He nods. “Yes. That’s normal for a little while.”

I plop down on the couch once we’re inside the apartment. “My appetite is intense. Like…for everything. I want to eat. I want to fuck.” I gasp as those words leave my lips. “Um. Wow.”

Syn chuckles, sitting down next to me and pulling me onto his lap. “Also normal. I can’t promise your appetites will change. Thorn is the hedonist, remember. He has an appetite for excess and extravagance that has never died down. It takes a lot to give a vampire a thrill, and Thorn is endlessly pursuing one.”

“I don’t want a thrill. I just want to be touched and filled by you.” I clear my throat as my own voice sounds foreign to me. “I swear someone else is speaking through me.”

“Your beast,” Syn says softly, rubbing his hands down my back and over my ass. “He grows stronger and more powerful with each passing minute. Eventually, he will take over. Over time, you will learn how to please and tame him.” Syn lifts my hands and presses soft kisses on my palms. “Thorn’s idea for a hunt is a good one. Your beast will be happy.”

“It’s part of me though, right? Not separate.”

“Not separate but…” He pauses, thinking. “It’s like when your subconscious mind takes over. Like in a dream. It’s always part of you, but sometimes it’s in charge.”

“That makes sense.” I drag my hands down his chest. “So can we fuck?”

Syn chuckles. “Silly question, my love. If it were up to me, you would live nude in my bed, and I would cater to your every need and desire. Anytime you want me, I am yours to take.”

My cock immediately goes from half hard to solid stone. “I hope you talk like that to me forever.”

“I can assure you I will.”

Syn goes from speaking to kissing in a split second, but I’m becoming used to his super speed now. As soon as our lips touch, I practically melt into him and that strange, urgent feeling inside me begins to subside.

I’m already pulling his shirt over his head, desperate for my skin to touch his again, and he helps me, both of us somehow maintaining our hungry kisses while discarding our clothes.

I settle even more as my flesh and his seem to merge and our cocks grind together, but there’s still an urgency pushing for more. I gasp as the thick head of his cock finds my hole, already slick from his natural lube, and hold my breath as he enters me roughly before blowing it out.

With my nails digging into his shoulders, I ride him towards total bliss, the delicious tension between too much and not enough rippling over me with each thrust. Syn grips the back of my neck, holding my gaze as he pounds into me, and the look in his eyes erases any lingering fear or doubt about the future. This is my future. Syn.

When his lips part his sharp teeth appear, and the sight stirs something feral in me once again. I grab his arm, biting into his wrist, and he smiles while I feed. I prefer his neck, but I couldn’t bear to take my eyes off his face.

“You have made my life whole, sweet Bowie.”

Tearing my mouth from his skin, I murmur, “you gave me a life.”

He pulls my mouth to his, kissing me in spite of the blood dripping down my chin, before throwing me back on the couch and railing me like a man on a mission. The building orgasm is only dulled by the intense warmth spreading in my chest that I know now is love. So much love.

I come with a shout of Syn’s name, my nails dragging down his arms as a fountain of cum flows from my cock. Syn falls forward, burying his face in my neck and leaving heated kisses in his wake.

My eyes grow heavy, but I resist, knowing we have more to do tonight.

“You can rest,” Syn whispers, kissing my forehead. “We have time.”

A contented smile plays on my lips as I give in, scooting close to the man who has become my everything.

By the time we meet Thorn and the others in the common area, all of us decked out in black from head to toe, the adrenaline in me, or maybe my beast, is fired up and ready to do this. What this is doesn’t really matter. As long as it’s something to burn off energy, it works for me.

Thorn is bouncing on his toes like a kid tweaking on sugar, but the other vampires are pretty chill, standing around brooding in black. I wonder if you develop the ability to brood over time or if they were all like this before they turned.

When Yves’s door opens and he steps out dressed in black leather pants, a black turtleneck, and a trench coat, the others fall speechless, so I’m guessing this is unusual.

Yves grins, adjusting black gloves. “It’s his first time. I thought I should be present.”

“Hmm.” Midnight narrows his eyes. “Or maybe your beast needs a little exercise?”

Yves ignores the jab and walks toward the elevator bank. When he presses the Up button, I frown, gazing up at Syn for an explanation. Syn only smiles in reply, so I assume this is some kind of surprise for me.

We enter the elevator, all of us silent, but I can sense the excited energy flowing between the brothers. It hits me how weird this is. A few weeks ago I didn’t even know Syn existed, much less vampires. Now I am one. Life is wild.

When the doors ding and open, we step out as a group. Syn holds my hand, glancing over at me with the smile still on his face. It’s kind of cool that my presence makes him so happy. Thorn hops up on the ledge of the rooftop, facing us with a crazy smile on his face. Then he simply falls backward.

Gasping, I rush to the edge, watching him fall to the ground, but he crouches just before he hits, landing softly on his feet.

He spreads his arm out. “Coming?”

Midnight takes a running leap off the building, his jacket billowing around him like wings as he falls. Eros and Raphael are far more chill, as they step off without fanfare. Yves smiles before stepping off himself.

“I can do that too?” I ask Syn as he hovers behind me.

“Yes. Follow what Thorn did. Crouch just before you land. It’s a little easier on the body until you get used to it.”

“Okay. You’re jumping with me, right?”

“Of course.”

Nodding, I stare over the edge at the brothers waiting for us. Willingly jumping off a building? Blowing out a breath, I step up on the ledge, followed by Syn. He takes my hand.

“We can count if you want?” he offers.

Shaking my head, I remind myself that I’m not a regular guy anymore. This isn’t going to hurt, and Syn is here if it does. “I’m ready.”

“Then step off. I will follow.”

The lights of New Onyx twinkle in the distance, almost like they’re encouraging me. Okay. I got this. With a final exhale, I step over the edge, and then I’m falling, clinging to Syn’s hand like a lifeline.

Soon enough though, the exhilaration of it hits me. This is fucking badass. Only seconds later, I remember to crouch just in time for my feet to touch the ground. It was nothing more than jumping in place. The vampires clap for me while I stare up at the building I just jumped off.

“How do you feel?” Midnight asks.

“Like a superhero.”

Thorn laughs. “In some ways you are. We fight bad guys.”

“We are not heroes,” Eros says. “But we serve a purpose in the grand scheme of things.”

“We’re anti-heroes,” Thorn says, cracking his knuckles. “The kind you don’t know you need.”

“Works for me,” I answer.

“Let’s get going,” Yves says, heading through the grass towards a wooded area.

We all follow, and it only takes me a few seconds to realize how much faster I’m capable of walking. It’s like running without exertion. Badass.

On the other side of the wooded area is a quiet road. Across from that, a tall black fence separates the sketchier side of town from the nice parts. It’s still far from where I used to live, but I realize quickly that’s where we’re going as we head east. It makes sense if the goal is to target dirtbags. We’ll find plenty of them there.

Syn continues to hold my hand, and the gesture is very calming. It’s like something deep inside me just knows I’ll figure out everything as we go, and Syn will be there to fill the gaps.

He squeezes my hand as if he can hear me, and now his whole thing about detecting energy makes a lot more sense.

There’s an apartment complex just ahead of us. It’s known for being pretty dangerous and strangers are never welcome. Even the cops don’t come around this complex.

Thorn rubs his hands together like a movie villain, all shiny, sharp teeth and gleaming eyes. “Drug dens are the best. No one pays attention to anything, so we don’t have to expend energy on compulsion.”

“But you did bring the glamour, right?” Yves asks.

“Yep.” Thorn pats his coat pocket. “What’s the plan? Stick together or spread out?”

“I propose we do one together,” Raphael says. “So Bowie gets the full effect.”

“I’d like that,” Syn says, gazing down at me with pride in his eyes. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, I squeeze his hand. “Yes.”

We cross another street and I imagine that from the outside looking in, we’re an intimidating bunch of men.

“Use your nose, Bowie,” Syn says to me. “Tune in to your senses. Sound, scent. They will guide you.”

Nodding, I inhale, expecting the typical scents of a grungy downtown—rotting trash, urine, body odor—but that’s not what I get. Instead, I’m assaulted by the metallic, iron-rich scent of blood. But there’s something else.

“It smells kind of sweet.”

“Drugs,” Thorn says. “Opioids specifically. Unfortunately for mortals, the epidemic makes them tasty treats.”

“But we’re looking for dealers,” Syn says. “Exploiters, traffickers, criminals, and gang members.”

“Being in a gang makes you bad?” I ask.

“It depends. I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but when you encounter someone, whatever energy pours off them when faced with us gives us information. We can tell the difference between someone lost in the system and a piece of shit.”

“Like me. You knew I wasn’t bad.”

“Yes. Just lost.”

The group of us slip between buildings, passing silently by the inhabitants of this project system. The more we walk, the more scents and sounds swirl around me, leading me like a bloodhound to my target. Slowly, I realize I’m in front of the others.

Stopping abruptly in front of a building, I gaze up, sniffing the air. “Something in here.” My stomach twists as my chest tightens and my gums throb. “Oh fuck. I want it.”

Yves chuckles. “I almost miss the intensity of fresh bloodlust. You are going to enjoy this very much, Bowie.”

I nod, keeping my eyes trained on the building. “He’s in there.” My fangs push through my gums, making my breath hitch. Then my nails extend. “How do we find him?”

“Focus, my love,” Syn whispers, standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. “Focus and it will lead you to him.”

Swallowing hard, I concentrate on the sensations flowing through me until a hazy image fills my mind. “Oh. He’s not alone.”

“They never are,” Midnight murmurs.

Another image. “Fuck. It’s not good. Someone with them is very scared.”

“We should go soon then,” Raphael says.

I nod, still trying to focus on the location. “Tenth floor.” I smile, relieved. “I’m sure of it.”

“Good job,” Syn says. “It is the tenth floor. Let’s pay them a visit, hmm?”

“Yes.” I start to walk toward what I think is the front of the building, but Syn takes my hand, shaking his head.

“I know a shortcut.”

And then my feet leave the ground as Syn launches us toward the building. Instinctively, I put my hands and feet in front of me, sticking to the building like I’m freaking Spiderman.

“Whoa.”

“Now just climb,” Syn says as the other vampires scale the building.

This is so fucking cool that I barely remember why we’re doing it until I’m hit with the strong scent of blood again. The closer we get, the faster I climb, until I’m at the window of the apartment I’m seeking. Inside are four men sitting on a couch. In the middle of the floor is a man whose hands and ankles are bound with ropes. He’s obviously scared and crying. That must have been what I was feeling.

“Oh fuck,” Thorn says. “Our little boy wonder just brought us straight to Malek Dane.”

I gasp. I know exactly who Malek Dane is. Only the most notorious gang member in the city. He leads the group known as the New Onyx Malice—a name given to them by the media they’ve never bothered to correct. They’re known for their ruthless violence and unrelenting bullying of any target they have a bone to pick with. The last time Nelly warned me about them, they were credited with over twenty deaths and five suspected arsons.

“Should we leave?” I ask.

“Hell no,” Thorn says. “I’ve been waiting to have this fucker cross my path. We’ll actually be heroes for taking this loser out.”

“Plan of attack?” Yves asks. “I propose we let Bowie take the first bite from Malek. Then the rest of us can join in.”

“I’ll take care of the victim,” Midnight offers.

“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” I ask.

“Nope. Gonna get him to safety and make him forget.”

“Take a moment, Bowie,” Syn says. “Focus on how Malek and this scene makes you feel. How vulnerable their victim is. Remember all the times you felt that way. Let your anger and frustration and sadness flow through you. Direct it towards Malek.”

“It’s the best therapy,” Thorn says.

I do exactly as Syn says, remembering all the times I walked home in fear, my time in prison avoiding the worst criminals, the frustration of being alone, and the sadness of losing my family the way I did.

Like being hit with an unexpected ocean wave, the wind is knocked out of me, my body reacting viscerally to the emotions swirling through me.

“Let me in there,” I manage.

Syn slides the window in the bedroom open and motions for me to enter. I climb inside, quickly followed by the others, and then we simply walk straight into the living room. The man on the floor gasps, his eyes wide as Midnight steps forward and scoops the man into his arms.

“What the fuck!” Malek yells, jumping to his feet.

“Focus on launching yourself at him,” Syn whispers. “Straight for his neck. I’ll be right here.”

Nodding, I channel all the rage and emotion inside me at the man while chaos descends around me. For once, there’s not an ounce of fear in me, and as if some magical wind swirls around me, my body pushes forward, my nails dig into Malek’s shoulders, and as he screams, I sink my fangs into his thick neck.

My mouth floods with his blood while he tries in vain to pull me off of him. He must be twice my size, but he’s no match for my strength. In a frenzy, I tear at his skin with my nails while sating my hunger with his blood.

I hear a gunshot and then Raphael muttering, “You, motherfucker,” before the sound of more screams and tearing flesh reaches me.

Malek weakens and I shove him to his knees, remembering in a moment of clarity how much Thorn wanted to get this guy. I look up, searching the room for Thorn, who stands next to Syn.

“Want some?” I ask.

Thorn grins. “Sure do.”

“What the fuck is this?” Malek yells, still trying to struggle away from me. Eros and Yves attack the last man standing, pulling him to the ground as they tear at his skin.

Thorn grips Malek’s hair, tugging his head back harshly. “This is your execution, Malek Dane. Today, you pay for your multitude of sins. We are the justice you deserve.”

Malek manages to get a hand free and plunges a knife straight into Thorn’s throat. Thorn doesn’t even flinch, only narrows his eyes and pulls the knife from his skin.

“Tsk, tsk, Malek,” Thorn says, his voice deep and dangerous. He opens his mouth to reveal his fangs, and Malek actually cowers into me. “Now you’ve made me mad.”

With that, he attacks Malek, tearing his throat out like a wild animal. Malek, eyes wide, looks at me with questions he can no longer speak.

“We’re vampires,” I say, grinning. “Didn’t know we existed, right? Well, we do. You’re a bad dude, Malek. Guys like you prey on the weak. You hurt the innocent. Not anymore though. The streets are gonna be a little safer tonight.”

I lift his arm and bite into the vein at his wrist, drinking before offering it to Syn. My lover grins, kneeling down to take some too. Once Malek is well on his way to death, I glance around the room at the pile of dead bodies, the pools of blood, and the satiated vampires chatting softly like we just finished a normal dinner.

Midnight slips inside seconds later, his demeanor different than it was before. Raphael holds up a whimpering, half-dead man.

“Saved you some.”

“Thank you,” Midnight says, joining his brothers in the feast.

Now that my belly is full and my rage has subsided, all I want to do is wrap myself in Syn’s arms. So I do. I crawl into his lap, my head on his shoulder, and he rubs my back.

“Ready to go home?”

“Please.”

“Go ahead,” I hear Yves say. “We’ll finish up here.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, hoping he can hear me. “It was so awesome.”

Syn chuckles as he leaps out the window to the ground. “You did so well, my beloved. How do you feel?”

“Amazing, but tired.”

“It was a big night. Let’s get you home and rested.”

I nod, happily clinging to the man who saved my life in more ways than one.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

SYN

Ispend the rest of the evening watching Bowie sleep. He was too tired to shower, so I left him as is, the blood of his victim still staining his face. He looks beautiful like this. His release of rage was truly breathtaking. I am a lucky man.

Just as the sun begins to rise, I force myself away from my love to prepare coffee. He loves it and I always want it to be ready for him when he wakes.

While it brews, I gaze outside, scanning the area for more trouble but sensing nothing. Where is Stan? We have to find him. Until we do, no one rests.

A soft knock at the front door pulls my attention away from my wandering thoughts. I already know it’s one of my brothers before I get there, but when I open the door, I’m surprised to see Midnight. Usually it’s Thorn coming home in the wee hours of the morning and wanting to tell someone about his night of debauchery.

“Come in.”

Midnight nods, his energy more tense than usual as he passes me.

“Is something wrong?”

Midnight swings around, eyes wild. “Not wrong. Just weird. I need to talk it out.”

“I’m listening.”

We walk to my living room, both of us sitting on the couch. I wait for Midnight to speak. His energy is all over the place as he wrings his hands and taps his foot on the floor. Finally, he blows out a breath.

“I feel weird, man,” he says.

“Weird, how?”

“I can’t stop thinking about the victim we rescued tonight. Once I got him out of there, I took him somewhere safe so he could get his clothes on. He’s this tiny little thing, right?”

I nod.

“But once he was dressed, he took off running. Obviously, I went after him, and when I caught him, he went wild, kicking and punching me to get loose. Little man has a ton of fight in him.”

“Do you know how he ended up with Malek?”

“He didn’t say much. Only that he fucked up a deal.” Midnight drags a hand through his long brown tresses. “But there’s no way he’s a dealer. You saw him.”

“Yeah. What happened after that?”

Midnight’s expression tightens as he shakes his head. “I had him pressed against the wall, holding back his fury, and I don’t know what came over me, Syn, but all I wanted to do was kiss him. And then I wanted to take him somewhere safe. Lock him in my apartment or something. It was weird as fuck.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“No. I forced myself not to follow him when I let him go. He did thank us for showing up when we did and getting him out of there.” He rubs his forehead, leaning back. “I can’t explain it, but it’s like he got inside me. I can still smell him. Still see his face as he tried to kick me. Still hear his voice. Is this what you felt when you met Bowie?”

“No. It was different from that. It was more like…intense curiosity. But then again, Bowie isn’t like the man you’re talking about. Do you know his name?”

“Gideon,” Midnight says it with reverence. “He gave me that much, but then he said he didn’t need anyone, he’d be fine, and he begged me not to follow him.”

“And you let him leave?”

“I had to. The whole interaction was so weird. I told him my name and where he could usually find me if he ever wanted to.”

“And?”

“And I fucking want him to find me. I want to see him again and understand how he’s making me feel weird. You know how I feel about mortals.”

“I do.”

“But you told Bowie, and he handled it fine?”

I tilt my head back and forth with a chuckle. “Fine-ish. It was still a shock, but he didn’t react…like before.” We never say Midnight’s former lover’s name. Not to him, at least. “But we had spent some unusual time together, and he discovered it on his own, really. I simply had to confirm what he saw.”

“What do you mean?”

“He saw us attack Benny. I either had to use compulsion or tell the truth. I chose truth because if he couldn’t accept what I am, then what was the point?”

Midnight nods, but his eyes are distant. “I don’t know if I could do it again.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze gently. “I know you’re afraid because of what happened, but that was one individual. I truly believe that when the right person enters your life, you’ll know it, and you’ll feel safe enough to reveal yourself.”

He twists his fingers together, looking at the floor for a moment before lifting his eyes to me. “You believe in the fated mates thing?”

“I do now, yes. Before Bowie, no one could have convinced me it was real. Not even Yves.”

Midnight nods, smirking. “Yeah, I know.”

“But the way Bowie makes me feel is like nothing else. I would give my life for him. For centuries all that mattered to me was our coven. Now I have something else to care about. Something beyond fulfilling. He chose my gift, Midnight.”

Midnight nods, releasing his grip and blowing out a breath. “So I shouldn’t freak out about Gideon. If he’s meant to be more than a passing interaction, I’ll find out, right?”

“I believe so.”

“Thanks, Syn. If you could keep this between us, I’d appreciate it.”

“You know I will.”

He smiles, rising from the couch. “I’m really happy for you. You’ve been the rock for so long. It’s nice to see you smile.”

“Thank you. All of you accepting him means a lot to me.”

“He’s got a good vibe. I can see why you fell. Pretty impressive shit tonight too.”

Chuckling, I nod. “Yes. It wore him out.”

“That’s good. I barely remember being a bloodling. Do you?”

“It’s vague. Sometimes I recall things because of something Bowie does.”

“The appetite for all things,” he says, laughing. “Guess your bed is finally getting a workout.”

I push Midnight toward the door. “Never mind what happens in my bed.”

Still laughing, he steps into the foyer. “Seriously, man, thanks for talking me down.”

“Anytime.”

After Midnight leaves, I make my way back to the bedroom to check on Bowie. He’s lying face down, his features hidden by blankets and pillows. I lean against the door jamb, simply gazing at the beauty in my sheets.

No longer able to resist, I strip down and climb back into bed with him, holding him close to me. He murmurs as he burrows his face against my chest. I stroke his back, all too aware of the growing desire between my legs. After so many years of denying myself the pleasure of another, I have to say Bowie was more than worth the sacrifice.

“Syn,” he whispers.

“Yes, my beloved?”

“Hungry.”

“Hmm, yes. Do you want to feed from me?”

He tilts his head up, gazing at me with a sleepy smile. “Yes.”

I tap the vein in my neck. “All yours.”

Bowie slides up my body, yawning as his fangs drop. His eyes begin to glow a pretty shade of brown, like amber caught in the morning light. With his finger, he rubs the vein before diving in. The sensation of my blood leaving my body to nourish my lover defies any description my brain can conjure. All I know is that I could spend forever simply holding him like I am now.

As he drinks, his hand moves up and down my chest to the back of my neck, where he plays with my hair a little before sliding it back down until he wraps his delicate fingers around my erection.

Sexual desire and bloodlust are often mixed together for many vampires, but my heart tells me that Bowie’s desire for me is beyond a simple physical need. At least that’s what I choose to believe.

He pulls off, licking the spot where he fed, then attacks my mouth, the taste of me still on his tongue. His kiss is deep and wild as he lets passion flow through him unrestrained.

As I deepen the kiss, I slide my hand to his supple ass, squeezing firmly until he squirms in my grasp. He rubs his dick against mine, moaning softly before whispering, “Want you.”

“Take what you need, my love.”

Bowie breaks the kiss, gazing at me with hooded eyes, his face slightly flushed. Without words, he straddles me, grips the base of my cock, and guides it to his hole. I watch his face react to my entry, his eyelids fluttering, pretty lips parted. Thank the gods for my body’s natural lube so that I’m always ready for him.

Bowie exhales slowly, as he begins to rock back and forth, sliding my length almost all the way out before impaling himself again.

When he first told me he was untouched, I wondered if he would be a tentative, shy lover, and perhaps he would have been if we had made love before he turned. But he is far from that now. Bowie knows what he wants and he’s going to get it.

His hands move into his hair, lifting it and letting it fall in time with his lithe body sliding up and down my length. I grip his hips, drowning in the softness of his skin and the beauty of his face. His body holds mine hostage, squeezing around each and every thrust.

“So good,” Bowie whispers, opening his eyes to gaze down at me. “I love…”

My chest tightens with the need to hear the rest. Does he love me? Can he?

“Your cock,” he continues.

I nod, biting back the desire to declare once more how much I adore him. I need to give him the space to develop his emotions for me. No matter how long it takes, I know we’ll get there. He’s my mate, after all.

I sit up, gripping the back of his neck and sinking my fangs into his flesh. He digs his nails into my shoulder blades, throwing his head back to allow me full access. Gods, his blood is sweet, and I’m instantly drunk on him.

After allowing me to feed for a few minutes, our bodies enveloped in lust and bliss and blood, Bowie leans back, resting his hands on my thighs as he bounces on my cock. I take the opportunity to wrap my hand around his erection, pumping him in time to the movements of his hips. He cries out seconds later, a fountain of delicious cum shooting from his cock.

I squeeze my eyes closed as my own orgasm hits me, even stronger than the last one. My body, racked with aftershocks, trembles in Bowie’s sweet grasp as he falls forward and presses his chest to mine.

His neck still leaks a few droplets of blood, so I scoop them up and lick my fingers clean before pressing my spit-slicked finger over the openings to close them.

Bowie’s skin is sticky and warm, which for a vampire is a sign of exertion. “That was beautiful,” I whisper.

“You’re beautiful,” Bowie says, kissing my neck. “It still feels like a dream or a fairy tale.” He lifts his head enough to meet my gaze. “Not that long ago, it was all so dark and hopeless. Then you stepped out of the shadows and changed everything.”

“You don’t regret anything, do you?”

“No.” He smiles. “I’m really happy, Syn. I want to tell you all the things circling around my head, but I can’t make sense of them yet.”

“There’s no rush, love. We have literally forever.”

“You deserve it though.”

“No.” I brush his hair from his face. “I already have what I deserve, and that’s you in my arms. The feelings will come. I can wait.”

“I have…a lot of feelings.”

Gazing into his pretty eyes, I can see his affection for me. That’s enough for now. “Just as long as you stay and you’re happy, then I’m good.”

“I’m staying and I’m happy.”

I lean up to kiss his nose. “As beautiful as you look covered in blood and cum, we should shower and figure out our next step to deal with Stan.”

His smile fades. “Yeah. The sooner the better, really.”

“I agree.”

Bowie climbs out of bed, both of us flinching as my softening cock slides out of him. The loss is noticeable, and I vow to myself right now that as soon as this situation is resolved, I’m spending a week in bed with my love.

As he bounces into the bathroom, motioning for me to join him, my chest is light. What a feeling knowing I never have to be alone again. Never have to pine for something I didn’t think was real. Bowie is here now. He’s real. And I will spend the rest of my eternal life worshipping at the altar of his body.

He’s so damn worth it.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

BOWIE

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I realize it’s the first time I’ve actually looked at myself since turning. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. I look so…normal. Unchanged, except for a few scars I used to have. My eyes are still brown. Kind of a letdown.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Syn asks as he turns to face me.

“Why do I look so regular?”

Syn frowns. “There is nothing regular about you.”

“You know what I mean. I look the same.”

“Hmm, are you sure?” He wraps his arms around me, nuzzling my neck, his beard scratchy on my skin. As his hands run down my torso, my body reacts to his touch. “You haven’t seen yourself aroused yet, beloved. Then you will see your change.”

Closing my eyes, I lean back into his touch. “Why do your hands on me feel like medicine?”

“You were touch deprived, my sweet Bowie. Never again though.”

Syn’s cock rubs against my ass, reminding me of the slight ache between my legs, and a flutter of butterflies take flight in my belly.

“Look in the mirror,” he says.

I force my eyes back to my reflection, gasping as a dim glow fills my eyes. The brown that was dark and muddy is more like amber or honey now, reflecting light. My skin goes pale right before my eyes, and as my gums throb, I open my mouth to watch my fangs descend.

“Holy fuck.”

“See?” Syn says. “Nothing regular about you.” He rests his chin on my shoulder, his own honey eyes glowing bright. “You are the very definition of beauty. No flower or art piece or even the vast stars in the sky can rival you.” His hand rubs the spot over my heart. “I am truly honored that you have given me your heart and soul. If you would allow it, I would build you a pedestal and sit you on it where you would always be safe.”

I laugh softly. “If I was on a pedestal, you couldn’t touch me. Neither of us would like that.”

“Good point.” He kisses my neck. “Come. Let’s get clean.”

We step into the shower together and under the hot stream of water. I lean against Syn as he methodically washes every part of me. His hands roaming over every part of me feel so good, I close my eyes to revel in the sensation.

For the first time since I was a kid, someone is taking care of me. Syn makes sure I’m safe and happy. He actually fucking cares if I’m comfortable. My eyes sting with unshed tears, and I twist around to press my forehead to Syn’s chest.

“What’s wrong?”

Pulling back slightly, I gaze up at his handsome face. “Nothing. For once, nothing is wrong.”

An hour later, Syn and I are sitting in the common area, surrounded by all the brothers. Midnight is staring at me like he’s trying to figure something out, but he looks away every time I look in his direction.

Thorn is bouncing on his feet like an excited puppy while Syn explains his plans for later today.

“I think between all of us we can cover a lot of ground,” Syn finishes. “We need to figure out where Stan is and who he’s involved with before more trouble shows up.”

Thorn cracks his knuckles. “Hell yes.”

Syn gives his brother a hard look. “Retrieve, not kill.”

“I know,” Thorn says, rolling his eyes.

His energy cracks me up.

“When are we taking Bowie to The Lair?” Eros asks.

“Once shit calms down with Stan,” Syn answers. “I can’t relax until that threat is eliminated.”

Eros nods, gazing at me with curious eyes. “You’ll like it there. It’s a playground for bloodlings.”

“Bloodlings?”

“New vampires,” Yves says with a slight smile.

“Oh. When am I considered not new anymore?”

They all laugh as Syn grips my hand. “Fifty years.”

“Fifty years?” I repeat in shock. “That’s a long time.”

“Not in vampire years,” Raphael says in his usual bored tone. I wonder what his deal is.

“It takes a while for all your abilities to develop,” Yves explains. “And even longer for you to learn how to control and manipulate them.”

“Anyone younger than two hundred is still a baby to me,” Midnight says. “Not in a bad way, but in an unpredictable way. Lucky for you, your maker is nearby and will make sure to navigate you through it all.”

“Your only concern right now is feeding,” Yves says. “The rest will come in time.”

I gaze up at Syn, who smiles at me like he found a priceless jewel. Damn. I have no idea how I got lucky enough to get this man, but I’m not questioning it. No way.

“Syn?” Yves says. “A moment please.”

The two men step to the side while the other brothers descend on me, throwing questions at me left and right about how I feel, what’s the biggest change, do I like it here so far. I start with the easiest question first.

“I love it here. Obviously, almost anything is better than squatting in an abandoned house, but this feels like…” Can I say this to them?

“Like what?” Thorn asks.

“Home, I guess.” I shrug, hoping they don’t laugh me out of here. “Syn feels like home.”

Eros lets out a dreamy sigh. “True love. I must write about it.”

“Write?” I ask.

“Poetry,” Midnight answers.

“Oh, right.”

“So you’ll stay?” Thorn asks.

“Yeah. Wherever Syn is, I want to be too.”

“So you love him?” Raphael asks, almost like a challenge.

I struggle to figure out how to answer that, but the feeling blooming in my chest is so big it threatens to bubble out of me. Oh god. There’s my answer.

“I think those kinds of things are private. I mean, unless Syn wants to tell you stuff.”

Midnight smiles and Thorn yips. Seriously, this guy.

Raphael nods, his expression softening, and Eros is already scribbling in the notebook he always seems to have.

Syn returns to my side. “We should go—”

“Bowie!”

Nelly’s voice echoes through the common area, and all of us rush in that direction. Nelly is crying, holding her cell phone.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, rushing to her side.

She clings to me, crying on my shoulder as I rub her back and hold Syn’s gaze.

“Can you tell us what’s wrong, Nelly?” Syn asks, but she’s still sobbing. He approaches us, lifting her head gently and staring into her eyes. “Tell us what happened.”

She nods, her eyes slightly glazed over. “They have Stan,” she says. “They’re going to kill him if he doesn’t give them the money.”

“Who is ‘them?’” I ask.

“They said Santino,” Nelly says.

“Fuckkkk,” Thorn whispers.

“Who is that?” Nelly asks.

“Fuck. Even I know who that is,” I answer.

“The most notorious organized crime family in New Onyx,” Yves answers, his face hard. “If they have Stan…” His eyes shift to Syn, who looks like he saw a ghost.

“I’m not sure we can do anything,” Syn says to Nelly. “We avoid dealing with the Mafia because it’s never one and done with them.”

Nelly slumps in my arms. “The Mafia? God, he really fucked up this time.”

“He did,” Thorn says, his voice softening. “These guys aren’t known for being reasonable. Even if they get the money…” He scrunches his face and drags his finger across his neck. “Lights out.”

“But they did call first,” Raphael says. “That’s unusual. Normally, they would just torture and kill him.”

“Excellent point,” Yves says. “There must be something more than money going on.”

“Did they give you any directions?” Syn asks.

She nods, wiping the tears from her face. “They said they’re giving him until midnight. Every minute after that, they’re going to cut off a body part.” She’s shaking as she speaks. “They cut off his toe while I had to listen to him scream.”

“How much money is it?” Yves asks.

“Two million.” Nelly shakes her head. “They said that included interest. What could he have needed that kind of money for?”

“Maybe we just let him die,” Raphael says. “No offense,” he says to Nelly. “But we don’t fuck with Santino.”

“There’s more,” Nelly says, sniffling. “They said, um…” She squeezes her eyes closed, blowing out a breath. “First they would come for me. Then they would come for Bowie. Someone’s gonna pay and they don’t give a fuck who it is.”

Okay that’s not good. Syn’s eyes widen before he slams his fist into the wall so hard, he breaks through it. With his teeth clenched, he focuses on Nelly, who flinches in my arms.

“What location did they provide?”

“The old bank building off route one when you’re leaving town.”

Syn turns to Yves. “I understand if you all want to avoid this one, but I can’t.”

Yves scoffs. “As if we would let you do this alone.”

“But there are consequences with this group. We know this.”

“It doesn’t matter. If one of us is in danger, we all are.” Yves looks at me as he says this.

I have to fight back emotion realizing they’re going to put themselves in a bad position to protect me and Nelly.

“It’s their bad, really,” Thorn says. “They picked a fight with a coven of vampires. They’ll find out why that was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, well we need to make a point, or we’ll end up fighting off their revenge attacks for who knows how long,” Raphael says. “It’s not a bad thing to take out some of these guys though.”

“Not a bad idea at all,” Midnight says.

I look down at Nelly and we all realize at that moment why she looks pale and confused. Thorn said “coven of vampires.”

“Um, Nelly…” I begin.

“We call ourselves vampires because we work at night,” Syn says easily, but I can feel the wave of energy flowing off of him to Nelly. She nods, eyes glazed again. That must be the compulsion thing. I wonder when I’ll learn to do that.

Syn snaps his fingers and Nelly blinks hard, leaning into me. “I’m really scared,” she says.

“You don’t need to be,” Syn says. “We’ll have Vivienne stay with you. You’re safe with her.”

“How?” I whisper.

“I’ll tell you in a moment.”

We lead Nelly to Yves’s unit, where Viper is working inside, typing away on a computer. She looks up and smiles, but the expression fades when she notices Nelly’s tear-streaked face.

“What’s going on?”

“We have to work,” Yves says. “Unexpectedly. Can you call Vivienne and have her come here please?”

“On it,” Viper answers, already picking up her cell phone.

We sit Nelly down on the sofa and offer to get her water so Syn and I can walk off. Once we’re out of earshot, Syn grips my arm, pressing me against the wall.

“Vivienne can ward the unit so Nelly and anyone else inside is safe,” he explains. “I want you to stay with her.”

I pull my head back. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”

“Bowie. This is serious. The Mafia—”

“I’m well aware of what the Mafia is and what it does. I’ve been dodging them for years. I’m not some fragile kid, Syn. I’m a vampire now, and even if I wasn’t, I would go. All of this is happening to you because of me.”

“All of this is happening because of Stan.”

“Your involvement is because of me.”

“And because of you, I need you to stay here.”

“Nope.” I cross my arms over my chest, putting space between us. “This is my fight too.”

“All the gods, you are stubborn.”

I scoff. “Takes one to know one.”

“What?”

“You’re stubborn too.”

He rubs his forehead. “If something happened to you, it would destroy me.”

“What can happen to me, Syn?”

I can tell by the resignation on his face that I’m wearing him down.

“Pretend the roles were reversed. Would you stay back and wait, or would you demand to fight?”

Syn exhales slowly, his eyes narrowed. “How you have me wrapped around your finger, I’ll never understand, but here we are.”

Smiling, I drop my arms and press close to him, chest to chest. “You gave me this gift for a reason, Syn. So we could be together, but also, you knew I would be safer. You knew no one else could ever hurt me. Santino and his crew might be difficult to deal with, but they aren’t vampires. I’m not scared.”

Syn pulls me into his arms, holding me close. “Bowie…”

“I know.” I pull back enough to meet his gaze. “We’ve got this. All of us together. Look what we did last night. I don’t care what happens to Stan, but we need to make a point. They can’t threaten us and get away with it.”

Syn cocks his head, studying my face. “You are changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think you would have been this bold as a mortal?”

“Ah,” I say as his words sink in. “I would’ve been scared.”

“Your immortal soul now overrides your mortal fears. It usually takes longer, but perhaps having so much at stake personally pushed up your timeline.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Very good. Let’s get Nelly’s water then make a plan of attack.”

I smile. “So you’re letting me go?”

“As if I have a choice.”

Rising on my toes, I kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Just promise you won’t do anything crazy or impulsive.”

“Promise. That’s Thorn’s job.”

We both laugh.

When we return to Yves’s living room, Vivienne is there, whispering quietly with Yves. She nods, glancing at Nelly before meeting my gaze and smiling. I immediately feel calmer. There’s just something about her vibe that feels good.

Vivienne, Viper, and Nelly all leave to return to Nelly’s unit. I watch my aunt leave, knowing she’s worried but hoping she understands that she’s safe here. At least she doesn’t do impulsive shit like Stan does.

As the rest of us gather in the study, Yves stands behind his desk. “I have ideas on how to handle this, but I want to see what Syn or Bowie think first.”

I’m surprised, but I nod. “Um, I think I’ll follow your lead. I usually avoid trouble, not run straight for it. I don’t have a brain for strategy yet.”

“I think you sell yourself short,” Yves says, smiling slightly.

“So do I,” Syn says, rubbing my back. “Think about it for a moment.”

Exhaling, I drag my fingers through my hair, trying to listen to that voice inside me that my mom always insisted was there. For years it’s been a lying sack of shit though, so can I trust it now?

I fidget a little, shifting my weight from foot to foot. And then it comes to me.

“Okay, so these guys probably have a lot of security.”

Yves nods. “Yes.”

“But they’re expecting regular dudes.”

“Right,” Syn says.

“So, um…” I close my eyes, smiling as a vision comes to me. “We surprise them. I’ll walk in to drop off the money, but they’ll know I’m not alone, so they’ll be on guard.”

Syn nods, leaning against Yves’s desk.

“So we attack from all sides,” I continue. “We take them all out, and rescue Stan, I guess.”

Thorn chuckles. “You guess? Not a fan of your uncle?”

“No. I’m only considering that for Nelly’s sake. I don’t even know why she loves him. Maybe she sees something the rest of us can’t.”

“So we do what we can,” Yves says. “One more thing to consider though.”

“Yes?” Syn asks.

“Benny Bullet doesn’t work for Santino. He works for Aprile. Which means…”

“Rival families,” Midnight whispers. “Stan is involved with more than one crime family.”

“Fucking great,” I mutter. “This guy.” Rage bubbles up in me again as I think about my dead family. All because Stan fucked up.

“What’s wrong?” Syn asks, gripping my shoulder.

When I open my eyes, Thorn murmurs, “Whoa.”

I already know why he’s reacting that way. I can feel my fangs pushing through my gums, my nails growing, my eyesight sharpening. “I want to fucking kill Stan. All he’s ever done is ruin people’s lives. Now Nelly is in danger. I won’t let him do to her what he did to my family.”

Syn is in my face, holding my cheeks in his hands. “He won’t. I promise you this.”

“Uh, can we ask what happened?” Eros asks.

“It’s private,” Syn says.

“No, it’s okay. They should know.” I rub my forehead. “Stan has a history of making bad business deals. I think this is the worst, but he’s done it before. He talked my parents into investing in some scheme, and he lost everything. All of it. My dad was too ashamed. He gave Stan every dime he had.” The sadness I usually feel when I think of that night is replaced by something dark and sharp. “My dad murdered my family. He shot me too. Then he shot himself.”

Everyone is silent.

“I’m so sorry, Bowie,” Midnight says. “That is tragic.”

“Yeah. I used to wonder why I didn’t die too. I thought for years that’s what was supposed to happen and that’s why my life sucked so much. I wasn’t supposed to be here anymore.” I gaze down for a minute before composing myself. “Now I believe I was saved that night so I could be here, right now, ready to deal with Stan once and for all. He’s got a lot of karma coming his way and none of it’s good.”

“We’ve got your back, Bowie,” Thorn says.

“I know.” I force a slight smile. “All that matters to me is that Nelly is safe. I don’t care what happens to Stan, but if he’s alive, I want to be the one to talk to him. He’s gonna agree to clean up his life, or…” I meet Syn’s concerned gaze. “Or I make it a living nightmare. Payback and all that.”

Syn grabs me and kisses me so hard it takes my breath away. His erection rubs against mine, our fangs and tongues dancing carefully together.

When he pulls back, his eyes glow. “You are so amazing.”

Straightening my shoulders, I gaze back at the vampires all smiling. “I guess we have a plan then?”

“We do,” Yves says. “Until the sun sets, I’m going to reach out to some of my contacts to see what I can find out about the Aprile family’s involvement.”

Syn and I leave, deciding to stop at his place before going to check on Nelly. I need to make sure my beast is under control before I face her.

Once inside, Syn slams me against the wall, attacking my mouth again. “Fuck, you turn me on so much. I need you.”

Smiling, I tangle my fingers in his hair. “Then take me, vampire. Show me how you want me.”

Eyes gleaming, he grins, his bright white fangs on display. “Remember you said that.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

SYN

Ishould be focused on what we have to do tonight, but how can I think about death when I’m holding life in my arms?

Bowie clings to me, attacking my mouth while we both pull at our clothes to get naked. We’re still up against the wall, and my desire is too intense to think about moving locations. All I want is his skin against mine.

“Syn,” Bowie pants, his fangs scraping the skin on my neck. “Need.”

I get his pants down, then slide my hands under his knees to hoist him up. He grips my shoulders, eyes glowing as he ruts against me.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Fill me up, Syn. Need you inside me.”

Gripping my cock, I squeeze the tip to slick my hand before searching for his sweet hole, all while drowning in a kiss I can feel in my toes. Our tongues tangle, our fangs clank, our nails claw. His tight rim catches the head of my cock, and with a deep, guttural moan, I push my way inside his body, bottoming out in one thrust.

Instead of a slow build up, I slam into him, spurred on by his needy whimpers and moans. My hand moves to this throat, squeezing gently. Bowie gasps, touching my cheek delicately.

“What?” I ask.

“Your beast,” he whispers. “He’s taking over.”

As soon as I hear his words, I notice the shift inside me, sharp and abrupt. It spreads through me like warm water, but it’s not pleasant at all. My stomach knots and my legs shake and then a sound tears from my throat that rattles the windows.

Bowie wraps his arms around my neck, nodding and smiling. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Focus on me.”

My eyelids flutter, my body moving of its own accord as I thrust into my lover. His touch soothes the beast losing his mind inside me. His nails dig into my chest, his fangs gleaming. The scent that swirls around him is heady and delicious and my stomach clenches again. I don’t understand what is happening to me. All I know is I have to stay connected to Bowie.

A strange new sensation passes down my spine, and as if controlled by some unseen being, I sink my fangs into the side of Bowie’s neck, but not where the vein is. In the meaty part leading to his shoulder.

He cries out, throwing his head back and twisting his fingers in my hair as cum shoots from his cock between us. The desire to taste it, the intense hunger, is overwhelming. I suck the skin still in my mouth as my own orgasm barrels through me, shooting deep inside Bowie.

His body clenches around my cock, and between the flesh in my mouth and being buried in his body, it has a soothing effect on the beast inside me. We both slide to the floor, but as I pull out, I climb between his legs and lick his torso clean.

Bowie wraps his arms around me, pressing my face to his chest. I listen to the soft beat of his heart, the comforting swoosh of blood in his veins, our shared scent heavy and thick between us.

“Something happened,” Bowie whispers. “Right?”

“I think so, yes.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know. I think maybe it had something to do with us being mates.”

“It felt like your beast claimed me.” He rubs his hand over my chest. “I know you’re one and the same, but it felt different. Like a different part of you came to the surface.”

I turn my head to focus on him, noticing the bite mark on his neck. Somehow, he’s even more beautiful right now than he normally is.

“I cannot hold back the flood of emotions building inside me. Bowie. I…” The words fall short. How do I express the storm swirling inside me? How do I let him out in the world when I just want to lock us both away? How do I—

“Hey,” he says, his soft voice cutting through my chaotic thoughts. His fingers brush across my cheek. “I’m still here.”

“I know. I’ve already professed my undying love, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I don’t know what other words to use or actions to take to express this incredibly overwhelming emotion inside me.”

“Just tell me you love me again.”

“I love you.”

Bowie smiles as he nuzzles our noses together. “You don’t have to use words, Syn. Your actions show me. I’ve experienced romantic love for the first time because of you.”

I kiss his palm, desperate to hear his feelings for me.

“I’m scared,” he whispers. “Scared to give words to what’s in my chest. Terrified that if I try, it will all go away. I want to stop being scared, and every day, I feel a little braver. Thanks to you.”

He may not have the words, but as his hand kneads my chest like a kitten and his eyes glow softly, I know he feels what I do. The knowledge calms the chaos inside me.

“Take all the time you need, beloved. I will be here when you’re ready. I will be here for eternity.”

“I know.” His expression brightens. “It’s so cool.”

I pull us off the floor, scooping Bowie up in my arms as he laughs. I carry him to the bathroom for our second shower of the day.

“No shower.” He pouts. “We’re just gonna get dirty again later.”

“Then what do you want to do until it’s time to go?”

“Can you just cuddle me?”

“Absolutely.”

Chapter Thirty

BOWIE

Dressed in black and brimming with rage, I step out into the darkness with Syn and his brothers by my side. We pass silently on foot through residential neighborhoods, then downtown, then finally, into the north side of the city where Santino’s family operates. The speed we move at still blows my mind.

Stopping in an alleyway, Yves briefs us on what he learned.

“Stan is way in over his head,” Yves says, his face stern. “Apparently, he’s been playing both families against each other, offering them information about the other for a price.”

“Dude,” Thorn says. “Not the smartest apple in the toolshed.”

“I don’t think that’s how that saying goes,” Eros says.

“It came to a head,” Yves continues. “Giovanni Aprile sent Benny Bullets to collect, only to find out that Stan was in hiding. It was a race to see who found him first. Santino won.”

“How did they find out that Bowie and Nelly were with me?” Syn asks.

“Watching the bar and Stan’s house,” Yves answers. “They got the Benny message loud and clear though. We should only expect to see Santino’s family tonight.”

“He’s a Mafia mole?” I ask. “Are you shitting me?”

“I wish I was,” Yves answers. “If he’s even still alive, he won’t be for long.”

“But what’s our plan with Santino?” Raphael asks.

“My contact tells me he has a daughter. She’s six. We get to her and—”

“No,” I interrupt. “We’re not traumatizing a little girl who has nothing to do with this.”

“You’re telling me what to do?” Yves asks, his tone cold.

Syn steps between us as Yves moves forward. I duck around Syn, ready to face off with Yves if I have to.

“How dare you,” Yves says.

“You’ve clearly forgotten what it’s like to live with trauma, but I haven’t. I’m not letting you use her as bait.”

“Now wait just a second here,” Yves starts, until Syn grabs his shirt.

“No, Syn. Me and Yves need to work this out.”

All the brothers, including Yves, stare at me like I’ve turned green.

“No disrespect meant, Yves, but I’ve been through some shit because of decisions my parents made. Don’t make that little girl live with that. I won’t back down on this.”

Yves glares at me, his eyes glowing bright gray. “Fine then. What do you propose we do?”

His question panics me for a second. I didn’t have a backup plan, but then an idea comes to me. “Use me as bait.”

“Fuck no,” Syn says.

“We talked about me going in earlier. I’m a vampire now, but they don’t know that. Send me in as payment for Stan. I’m young and they think I’m weak. I’ll bring the money in and act like we’re paying his debt.”

“And then?” Yves asks, still incredulous.

“And then we do vampire shit.”

“They’ll have guns and men everywhere,” Midnight says.

“And?” I ask. “I think it’s a good plan. They won’t suspect anything. They’ll pat me down and find I’m unarmed. You guys do your creeping through the windows shit, and we attack. We take the money back, take Stan if we can, eliminate anyone else.”

Yves rubs his forehead. “We can’t just execute the head of a Mafia family. All hell will break loose in the city.”

“Uh, guys,” Raphael says. We all turn to him. “Uh, so…Santino has a brother. His name is Giacomo.”

“Your point?” Yves asks.

“They’re really close. Giacomo is always with him. Mostly.”

“Do I want to know how you know this information?” Yves asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Nope,” Raphael answers. “Let’s just say I didn’t know who it was at the time.”

“Fucking Mafia dudes,” Eros says, tutting his teeth. “Nice.”

“I didn’t know, okay? Anyway, grab Giacomo and demand what we want. Tear up a few soldiers. That’s my suggestion.”

“It’s as good a plan as any.” Yves turns to me. “Does it meet your criteria?”

Syn growls at his brother, and guilt hits the pit of my stomach that I’m the cause of their anger.

“It’s fine,” I mumble.

“You’re not going in there alone,” Syn says, glaring at everyone. “No fucking way.”

Huffing a breath, I roll my eyes. “We’ve been over this, Syn. I have to. They can’t hurt me. Not really. If we’re going to spend eternity together, you have to stop treating me like a fragile flower. You made me strong. You made me capable of doing this. Now let me do it.”

Yves puts his hand on Syn’s shoulder. “He’s right, Syn.”

Syn slams his fist into the dumpster next to him, denting the metal. “If anything happens to you…”

“I’ll be fine. They don’t know how to fight me.”

Midnight hands me the satchel full of money. How much, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. They’re not getting money or Nelly.

I press a kiss to Syn’s lips, not backing away until I feel him relax into me. “I’m coming back just fine,” I whisper. “Trust me.”

“I do.”

Smiling, I nod, then turn to look at the building across the street. Here goes nothing.

Running into the darkness, I slip inside the lobby of the old, abandoned office building. The elevator stopped working long ago, but you couldn’t pay me to get on that rickety thing even if it did function.

I hurry up the steps, taking two at a time until I reach the third floor. The only floor with light. I hear muffled voices through the crumbling stone walls, following the sound until another, more sinister noise reaches me.

It’s Stan. I listen closely. He’s hurt. His voice is weak and pained, and as he groans, I hear the cracking sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Peering around a corner, I see shadows. “You only got about an hour left before your wife dies, Stan.” The thick, cold voice feels like a bucket of ice water being thrown in my face, but my beast overpowers that sensation, taking hold of me.

As my fangs drop and my nails elongate, the desire to kill grips my chest.

Kill, maim, destroy, feed.

I brace myself against the wall for a second as these new instincts take over and ripple through me.

Once I calm down, I step into the room silently, the men surrounding Stan unaware. My uncle is bound to a chair, bloodied, his face swollen almost beyond recognition. His bare feet reveal two missing toes on his left foot, dried and crusty blood sticking to his dirty skin. The stench of fear and pain reaches me, causing me to gag.

As one of the men nearest to Stan punches him in the face again, a strange urge to protect takes over me. Stan deserves to be punched, but not by that guy. By me.

“Hi, guys,” I say casually, causing the three huge men to swing around to face me.

“How the fuck did you get in here?” one asks.

“The door was open. I thought you were expecting me.”

“Bowie?” Stan whispers, trying to lift this head and see me through swollen eyes.

“Wait, you’re the nephew?” a guy asks.

“Yeah.” I try to act afraid. That’s what they’d be expecting. “You wanted us to bring money.”

The man chuckles. “And you came up with two mil?”

“I found his stash,” I lie.

“Ah, Stan, you told us you spent the money. Another lie?” He kicks Stan’s leg, causing my uncle to groan in pain. “Hand it over, kid.”

“No.” I clutch the bag. “I’m giving it to Santino or no one.”

The three men look at each other and laugh. “The kid thinks he’s calling the shots.”

One of the guys, quieter and muscles everywhere, steps closer, touching a lock of my hair. “You know what, Gino, he’s pretty. We could put him to work.”

“After we sample the goods,” the other man says, while Gino, I guess, looks on.

“That’s a good point,” Gino says. “We could always use another whore.”

The words make me flinch, but only so I can keep control of my beast. I listen for the sounds of the guys joining me, but there’s nothing yet. Any minute now would be good.

“Where is Santino?” I ask, pushing on.

“Who wants to know?” The voice comes from behind me and I twist around to see the man himself. Everyone knows what Dimitri Santino looks like. His face is always in the papers, and if you ever see him in person, it’s best to make yourself disappear.

He’s not a big man, but he has an imposing presence just the same. I’d be shitting my pants right now if I hadn’t accepted Syn’s gift.

“Who are you?” Santino asks.

“Bowie. Stan’s nephew.”

“Ah, the elusive nephew. We’ve been wondering where you were.”

“I’m here.” I hold out the satchel. “With your money.”

Santino gestures with his head for one of his goons to grab the bag from me. The man opens it, rifling through the cash, then he looks up at Santino.

“There’s no way there’s two mil in here.”

Santino shakes his head, stepping closer to me. He cups my chin to tilt my head up even though I’m taller than he is. His touch makes my skin crawl and my gums throb. I want to rip his fucking arm off.

“How much did you bring?” Santino asks.

“I don’t know. I just grabbed what was there.”

“And you thought that would save your uncle’s life?”

“I don’t give a fuck about that. I just want you to leave Nelly alone.”

“Yeah? And if I don’t? What are you gonna do, pretty boy?”

“We was thinking we could use him on the streets, boss,” Gino says. “He’s got a good look.”

Santino studies my face, unaware of what he’s really looking at. It’s guys like him that ruin lives, make the streets unsafe, and tear innocent kids away from their families.

“Get your hands off of me.”

Santino pulls his head back, chuckling darkly. “How about I do whatever the fuck I want?” He tugs on his belt buckle, and my stomach turns. “I bet you won’t have much to say with my dick in your mouth.”

A soft shuffling sound hits my ears, and the scent of my love, of Syn, reaches my nose. He’s here.

I grab Santino’s wrist and twist it until it cracks. He screams, pulling away from me, and just as his men rush to grab me, the door is ripped from its hinges and Syn and his brothers appear. They rush the other men while I jump on Santino and sink my fangs into his neck.

He shrieks again, pushing at me to get off of him as I tackle him to the floor. I remember what Yves said—we can’t just execute a Mafia head—so, reluctantly, I pull off him but keep him pinned to the floor.

“What the fuck, man!” Santino rubs the spot where I bit him. “You’re gonna be so fucking sorry.”

“No, you listen to me, Santino.” I don’t know what this feeling rising in me is, but it pushes me to act as if I’m on autopilot, independent of my own thoughts. “Stan is a piece of shit and he fucked you over. He deserves whatever you give him, but his wife and his nephew are off fucking limits. Do you understand me?”

The Mafia boss studies my face, his brow furrowed. “I…no…you can’t tell me…” His words trail off.

Around me, body parts fly and blood splashes. The sounds of men dying and vampires drinking fill the room while Stan screams to be let free.

“Stan was a bad business deal, and he paid the price, but there is no money and you’re gonna let it go. You got me?”

Santino’s eyes glaze over, his breathing shallow as his brow smooths out. “Stan…” he whispers. “What?”

That’s when I realize what’s happening. Compulsion. I need to focus.

“Dimitri, look at me.” The man focuses on my eyes. “You’re gonna let me and everyone else leave, and you’re gonna forget all about Nelly Patrovis and Bowie Reed. Stan’s debt is settled. You’re gonna let him go.”

Dimitri nods, repeating my words in a whisper.

“When we leave, you’re not gonna know what even happened. All you’re gonna remember is that you’re done with Stan. No more revenge. No more collection. Got it?”

“No more,” he whispers.

“You broke your wrist falling out of bed.”

He glances at his swollen wrist. “I fell out of bed.”

“Your men, random attack. No suspects.”

“Random,” he repeats, still nodding.

“Now, close your eyes and don’t open them again until it’s silent.”

“Yeah.”

I climb off Santino, turning to face the chaos. Everyone except Syn is hovering over a body torn wide open, feeding. Even Yves. What a sight that is. Syn is kneeling beside Stan, untying him, but he looks barely alive.

I hurry over to them. “Stan.”

He only mumbles, not even able to lift his head. Syn shakes his head at me. I wait for some sort of sadness to hit me, but nothing does. Stan got himself into this situation.

“I think I used compulsion on Santino.”

Syn glances across the room where the man is still lying on the floor, eyes closed.

“Good job. Your instincts took over.”

“I felt it happening. Pretty cool.”

He nods, laying Stan carefully on the floor before pulling me into his arms. “Do you need to feed before we leave?”

“I only want to feed from you. At least for now.”

“That definitely works for me.”

Syn leans in, kissing me deeply. For a moment, it’s easy to block out the rest of the world and lose myself in the way this man heals all my wounds.

But the kiss is broken by the sound of a gunshot. We turn in time to see Midnight tackle a man to the ground, and Stan gripping his stomach as he slumps to the floor at my feet. It takes me a minute to process what just happened.

I fall to my knees next to Stan. He blinks slowly, focusing on me. “Tell…tell Nelly…” He coughs and blood trickles from his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

I nod. “I’ll tell her.”

“Bow…” He squeezes his eyes shut, hissing with pain. “Bow. Your dad…I fucked up.”

My chest tightens. In twelve years, he’s never even mentioned the incident.

“I treated you so bad. So…so much guilt.” He coughs again, his eyelids fluttering. “I’m…sorr…y.” His breath rattles in his chest, and then it’s over. He’s dead, staring lifeless at the ceiling.

When I look up, Midnight is sitting on the man he took down. “Stan jumped in front of the bullet intended for you,” he says. “Dude tried to be a hero in the end.”

I scoff. Too little, too late.

Glancing around at the pile of dead bodies and pools of blood, I let the feelings I’ve tried to hold back for so long flow out of me. My body shakes with unshed tears for the family I lost, for the pain I endured, for what could have been with Stan and Nelly if Stan wasn’t such a loser.

Syn is by my side in a flash, trying to hold me, but I push him away gently. “I need to walk out on my own. Equal to you and your brothers.”

He nods in understanding. “Let’s go then.”

We walk back in silence, none of us acknowledging the night’s events until we reach the common area. Yves puts his hand on my shoulder.

“You were amazing tonight, and I apologize for questioning you.”

I shake my head. “No. I appreciate the way you’ve accepted me. All of this is so new. I feel so many things.”

“Yes, you will for a while,” Yves says. “Your beast is staking his territory, learning your limits, creating new ones. You were very brave tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“He needs to rest now,” Syn says.

I shake my head. “I have to tell Nelly.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“Yes, please.”

Syn leads me down the hall to Nelly’s apartment. I knock softly and when Vivienne opens the door, her jaw drops.

“Oh boy. Does anyone need healing?” she asks.

“We’re okay,” Syn says. “Bowie needs to talk to his aunt.”

“She’s on the couch.”

I walk past them and into the living room. When Nelly sees me, she jumps up and throws her arms around me.

“Oh, Bowie. Are you okay?”

I nod, hugging her back. “Yeah. Let’s sit.” Holding her hands in mine, I try to find the words. “Um, well, first of all, you’re safe and so am I. There won’t be any more threats.”

“Okay.” Her expression is anxious as she waits for more.

“Um, we found Stan. He was in a bad way.”

“Where is he?”

“He didn’t make it, Nel.”

Her face goes blank. “What?”

“He jumped in front of a bullet meant for me.”

She stares, wide-eyed for a second, until a single tear rolls down her face. “He’s dead?”

I nod, squeezing her hands. “I’m so sorry. We tried to get him out. He told me to tell you he was sorry.”

“But did he say he was sorry to you?”

“He did, Nel. He did.”

She sobs then, falling into my arms. I rub her back as she cries it out.

“I knew he was,” she says, sniffling. “I tried for so long to get him to tell you. It was guilt eating him up.” She sits up, gazing at me with red eyes. “He told me he just needed one more big deal to go through, then he would make things right with you. He would buy you a house and anything else you needed.”

“He said that?”

“All the time.”

“I didn’t want a house. I wanted him to give a shit.”

“I know. He was just too stubborn to face you. Too hard-headed to see that you didn’t need money. You needed family.”

“I have one now. So do you.”

“We barely know these people, Bowie. Sure, they’ve been generous but…”

I know I can’t tell her the truth about me, and it tears me up. “Do you remember what you told me that one time I asked you what you saw in Stan?”

She nods, wiping her cheeks. “I told you I just knew he was the one for me. I could see past the imperfections to the person inside.”

“Yeah. That’s how I feel with Syn. That’s how he feels with me. He doesn’t see some homeless guy with no future and a tragic past. He sees me, Nel. He sees my heart. He sees my potential. He’s giving me a future.”

She nods as her eyes well with tears. “You found your someone?”

“I did. His brothers accept me as family, and that includes you. You’re not alone, Nelly.”

“I know.” She rubs my hand. “I’m happy for you, Bow. You deserve happiness more than anyone I know.”

“Thanks. Get some rest. We can figure out everything else tomorrow.”

After a hug, she goes to her bedroom and we step out with Vivienne and Viper in tow. She goes off to check in with Yves and the others, and now that no one is watching, I turn and practically climb Syn.

He hoists me up into his arms, carrying me silently to the bedroom. Tonight is the end of a nightmare and the beginning of a fresh start. I have a future now. One that includes love like I never knew existed.

We lie in bed together, still clothed, and Syn offers his neck to me. “You need to restore your energy.”

“What about you?” I ask.

“Oh, sweet Bowie, I have everything I need.”

Before I feed, the feelings that have been brewing inside me for weeks finally spill out. “I love you, Syn. I’ve never really known what it was or how it felt, but I do now. Thank you for everything, but mostly, for loving me too.”

Syn’s eyes soften as he gazes at me, lifting my hands and pressing soft kisses on my knuckles.

“My sweet, Bowie, I waited a a lifetime to love you, and it was worth every empty minute. You have me, now and for always. Until time ends.”

“It doesn’t seem long enough.”

“I promise we’ll fill every moment with love.”

“Eternal love? Sounds good to me.”

As my love wraps his arms around me, I smile, nuzzling his neck. This man is mine. My eternal Syn.

What a beautiful life it will be.

Epilogue

One Year Later~Bowie

“That’s the guy, Bow,” Thorn whispers as we sit perched on the rooftop of a crumbling hotel. “The target.”

“Take your time,” Syn says, rubbing my shoulder. “He’s not going anywhere.”

I gaze down at the man cowering in the doorway of the hotel, nervously checking his phone every three seconds and startling at every noise he hears. We’ve been following him for two hours, waiting for him to arrive at the final destination.

It’s only my third time out since I joined the other assassins a few months ago. I had some other business to take care of first. We fixed up the old house for Nelly, and Yves used his financial prowess to get her set up with investments for the money Stan’s insurance left behind. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her, taking classes and starting her own crochet business. Now I can focus on my new life.

“Remember,” Syn says, nuzzling my cheek. Yeah, that’s not distracting. “He’s a bad dude.”

“I know.”

The target is a violent drug dealer who’s been acting paranoid and unhinged for the past three months. He’s a target now, because of his recent murderous streak, killing homeless people and sex workers for no reason. His own boss has been unwilling to deal with it, so we were hired by an anonymous source that Thorn is pretty sure is part of the city government. It seems our drug dealer friend might know more than some people are comfortable with.

We get the signal from Midnight across the parking lot. Raphael set up a meeting with the drug dealer to get him where we wanted him. When he steps out of the shadows, looking equally as terrifying as the target, the two men have a brief exchange then slip inside the hotel. That’s my cue.

Standing, I shake out my arms, then wink at Syn before leaping from one building to the other. He and Thorn join me seconds later, both of them mere observers. This is my job.

I open the fire escape door, flinching as the steel scrapes loudly against the ground, then I step inside, hurrying down the stairs to the third floor. The stench of urine and body odor is strong enough to turn a vampire’s stomach, but I push on in spite of it.

When I reach room 310, I exhale, glancing over my shoulder at Syn and Thorn.

“Ready?” Syn asks.

“Ready.”

I kick the door open, bursting in to surprise the target. Raphael lifts his hands but then steps back, chuckling while the target looks at us with startled eyes. He immediately reaches for his gun, firing a shot that grazes my arm as I lunge at him, tackling him to the floor.

The sharp but brief sting in my arm stirs the raging beast within me, my fangs dropping in response. The target’s expression turns to horror as he tries to scoot backward, only to run straight into Midnight and Thorn.

He screams, but the sound is cut short when I sink my teeth into his throat, ripping his vocal cords apart. All the lessons Syn gave me rush back. I focus on the pain I carried with me for so many years, the frustration of being powerless, the rage at the unfairness of life, the sadness of losing my family, all of it, and let it rise to the surface. Unfortunately, the drug dealer doesn’t stand a chance.

After a frenzy of tearing into flesh and gorging myself on the satisfaction that there’s one less asshole in the world tonight, I sit back on my heels, gazing down at the bloodied mess that used to be a person.

“Nice,” Thorn says, grinning. “You’re like a rabid animal.”

Syn growls at his brother, his eyes glowing.

“Chill, bro. It was a compliment.”

Syn, still grumbling, lifts me up and carries me to the tiny bathroom. I stand over the sink as he runs the water and delicately cleans the blood spatters from my face.

“You were incredible,” he whispers before kissing my forehead.

Dragging my hands down his chest, I grin. “Are you turned on?

“Always, around you.” He smiles. “How do you feel now?”

“Good. It’s so amazing, Syn. Just knowing that no one else has to suffer because of that guy.”

“Yes, there is quite a bit of satisfaction to what we do.” He kisses my hand. “Let’s go. Thorn and Midnight will clean up and report to Yves.”

“Okay.”

He pauses before we leave the bathroom, searching my eyes. “You’re sure you’re happy?”

“I’m way beyond happy.”

A few hours later, after a shower, more lovemaking, and another shower, Syn and I head to the common area. Everyone is here, and we walk up just in time to hear Thorn telling the group how tonight went.

“He’s a beast,” Thorn says, just as I appear. He smiles at me. “I’m impressed.”

“Years of repressed anger do that to a guy,” I say, sitting on Syn’s lap as he pulls me down.

I wrap my arms around his neck, nestling into his body, a contented buzz thrumming through my body. A year ago, my life was nothing but pain and misery, until this mysterious stranger showed up and rescued me.

I kiss his cheek, the stubble there tingling my lips. “Thank you.”

Syn turns his face to mine. “For?”

“Everything, but mostly the gift. Wait. No. Mostly the love. Then the gift.”

“You have both for the rest of time, my beloved. This is just the beginning of our love story.”

“I know.”

The sounds of laughter and affection permeate the room, filling me with such warmth it’s hard to remember what life was like before Syn. I have a family now. I belong with them. With him. This will never end. This feeling, this love, it’s forever. This man is everything.

My eternal Syn.

I hope you enjoyed reading Bowie and Syn’s story as much as I did writing it. If you enjoyed it, please leave a review on Amazon to help other readers find it too. Review Eternal Syn.

Also be sure to preorder book two and find out who captures Midnight’s heart. Get Forever Midnight here.

About Mia

Mia is a USA Today Bestselling author of queer paranormal and contemporary romance. She's obsessed with vampires, mermaids, and tattoos, all of which make regular appearances in her books. She's fluent in sarcasm, addicted to caffeine, and easily amused by memes. She may or may not be a witch.

Her books are low to mid-angst, high heat, and celebrate the many ways people of all types can fall in love- even the paranormal kind. After all, love is love.

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In February, my newest serial starts, titled Unmasked. Here’s the blurb:

Would winning his heart replace the bitterness in mine?

High school was hell. Relocated to an obscure town and forced to integrate with kids who hated me on sight was a special kind of hell. My peers spent their waking hours tormenting me. My accent, my weight, my lack of social skills, and looks only a mother could love, made me a perpetual target.

Fed up with what life had handed me, I took matters into my own hands. My transformation was epic, dare I say, supernatural. I returned to that town armed with perfect looks, a fat bank account, and enough charm to steal world secrets, but my heart hadn’t changed at all, and it was hungry for revenge. I craved the destruction of my enemies more than the blood I now needed to survive. 

And then Eli returned. The one person who stood up for me in high school, my savior, and the reason I continued to get out of bed every day. I loved him with the ardent focus of a teenager, and once I saw his face again, I knew that love hadn’t died out at all.

Suddenly revenge took a backseat to wooing Eli. Now I could be the man he deserved on his arm, but Eli saw the real me, the person I still was deep inside. Could he want me if he knew what I had become? Would he love me if he saw me Unmasked?

C/W: Really mean bullies in the past tense, including physical violence and homophobic slurs. Lots of current day bloodiness and murder. He is a vampire, after all.

Check me out on Patreon today.

Also by Mia Monroe

Dying for more Mia Monroe? Check out my full catalogue on Amazon below!

Covens of Eaton Falls: The Complete Series

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Writing with KM Neuhold as Mika Nix

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California Crush Series:

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Friendship and Desire: Low angst, high heat, friends becoming lovers. readerlinks.com/l/2235237

Love in LA: Doting Daddies and their sweet boys finding love in Los Angeles. readerlinks.com/l/2235256

Tattoos and Temptation: Featuring low angst, steamy tales complete with decadent desserts, hot Miami nights, and boys with ink. readerlinks.com/l/2235255

There’s an adults-only coloring book too!

Written in the Stars: Featuring low angst, found family, space nerd love set in a Boston Planetarium. readerlinks.com/l/2235254

Other Books and Series

The Jerk Next Door: Enemies (kind of) to lovers, bi awakening, low angst, high heat

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I’m on Audible too! Check out the current offerings, with many more to come.

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