Chapter Sixteen
Munro
Munro licked his lips as he reached for the empty space on the bed next to him. Hollen’s scent still lingered, along with a few dark hairs, but there was more than that. An imagined wound in his own chest had twisted deep as soon as he’d realized he was alone, heat fading to a syrupy thickness.
The messy scrawled note did little to stem the wound, the half-drained pen failing to capture the essence of its wielder. It wasn’t often he found himself alone when he pleasured his lover into unconsciousness. It was even rarer that he followed suit.
Despite his absence, Hollen lingered in every bit of his senses. It was in the way his tongue tingled every time he swallowed and the warmth of his belly still brimming as he rested with his eyes closed, listening to the sounds around him and hoping for the sounds of soft breaths to return.
His mind was calm and better rested than he’d been in a century, hunger nothing but a confusing memory. His blood— hell.
I have to taste him again. He’d only taken a few sips—a quarter cup at the most, each drop a pleasure on his palate to overwhelming degrees. The depth of it was fuller than any wine, a bouquet of the best flowers dim compared to the pure and untainted scent of it. He knew without asking that there was nothing else like it in the world.
There was so much left he could indulge in, savoring one drop at a time like sucking from a tiny paper cut. He could bite into Hollen a thousand more times, torturing him with desire until he whimpered and came on his cock, his head thrown back in sweet ecstasy.
The possibilities were endless…unless they weren’t.
The note he left said he’d had a wonderful time and that he’d be back for work that night. But there was still the empty bed, the most telling of any signal he’d ever received.
The teahouse was the last stop of his thoughts. He would close it down for the night if Hollen promised to join him again, arching his neck back so Munro would have the best angle. His whole body throbbed at the thought of it.
Munro threw the covers back, heading for the closet as he rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes. Sex still lingered in the air, with a bit of dried cum clinging to the hairs on his chest and belly. He’d made sure to clean Hollen fully, but at the time, he’d thought of little for himself except sating his pure hunger.
He smoothed a hand over the patchy skin, flaking the biggest bits away. Anyone would know—vampire or other—exactly what he’d done in the confines of his room. If they knew what was best for themselves, they would realize that Hollen was off the market , permanently.
He let out a groan as he pulled a dress shirt on before tugging up a fresh pair of slacks and buckling them. Dragging his fingers through his hair a few times, he shook off the last bit of clinging sleepiness. He rarely needed to sleep anymore, but when he did, it was a bone-deep rest that he sometimes worried he would never wake up from. There were a few times he hadn’t, years passing before he roused. The days following were always some of the worst of his life.
Scrambling to catch up in a society that no longer existed while starving and half-mad with hunger never made it easy to fit back in. Rhys had helped him along before, taking his hand and guiding him through the fresh nightlife that seemed to flood the streets more with time. The fear of the dark was quickly waning, every crack between the hours filled with liveliness.
Munro shook his head, heading to the throne room. He paused for only a moment, running his fingers over one of the sharpest stag antlers. It was an intimidating piece, but perhaps a tad outdated. Maybe it was the fear he’d seen in Hollen’s eyes the first time he’d spotted it that now colored it in an off light.
The teahouse was bright as he exited the hall, moving toward the kitchen. Sean was already there, the smell of fresh baked bread strong as he sliced the loaves he’d prepared the evening before. The smell was almost permanent, the yeast and sugars clinging to the ambiance of the place perfectly. Munro wouldn’t have had it any other way.
The dishes had all been cleaned and put away, mostly by the other staff, who hadn’t said a word when Hollen had disappeared. He didn’t pay them to speak or for their ideas—only their presence. It would have been such a loss if he’d treated Hollen the same way, but Munro hadn’t seen the use in it when Hollen was only supposed to last a single night. So much has changed.
Sean let out a cat-call whistle as Munro walked into the kitchen, dropping his knife and grinning. He was handsome, even with the smudge of flour on his cheek and the pile of crumbs at his feet. Strong arms were what Munro had been drawn to at first, along with a winning recommendation. There had been a time when he’d thought about pursuing Sean, but that had wilted quickly.
Crossing his arms, Sean looked Munro up and down, his grin stretching wider. “Now there’s a man who has had the lay of his life.” Sean nodded. “Never thought I’d say this, but I like the guy. I think you should keep him around.”
Me too. He wouldn’t say it aloud. Sean was the type of man who couldn’t keep any information to himself unless it truly mattered, and he was of the special breed of people who were immune to any mind tricks. If he hadn’t come from a vampire home himself, Munro never would have trusted him.
“Tell me the menu,” said Munro, glancing from the bread to the display that Sean was building. Where the previous night had all been about strawberries, tonight seemed to be bread. There were four different-colored pieces on the tray so far, from deep chocolate to a light tan, all toasted and topped with different spreads.
“Straight to business as usual.” Sean dusted the crumbs from his hands before grabbing a small plate next to the display. When it was finished, it would go in the front window, offering passers-by a small glimpse of the unique menu for the night.
Sometimes a person would stroll by on a wrong turn home, stepping inside when it caught their eye. They would have a quick bite, but they would never linger, and Munro always made sure they had no desire to return.
It was ironic really that most of his clientele were vampires, there to wet their appetites and stir up war. They received nothing but pleasure from Sean’s hard work and connections and influence from being in an establishment as desirable as Munro’s.
Munro reached for the first small square. The bread base was dark—almost black—with a red spread on top that was so close to the color of blood that Munro was surprised to smell tomatoes and not the coppery tang when he brought it to his nose. He took a bite, flavors and textures bursting over his tongue. He let it linger until the toast finally started to dissolve before he finally swallowed it down.
“It’s delicious.” Munro nodded, reaching for the next and repeating the process. Sean nodded along, looking more relieved with each bite Munro tried.
“I went out on a limb tonight with the theme,” said Sean, tossing Munro’s empty plate into the sink before he returned to cutting his bread into thin slices.
“It’s good that you do. It keeps you interesting.” Munro looked away. The food was good, but it had washed some of Hollen’s taste from his mouth. A steady drip of Hollen flowing straight into his mouth was probably the only thing that would settle his obsessive craving.
“Let me know when Hollen arrives,” said Munro, heading to the dining room. The first staff would be two hours at least before they arrived to set the plates and put fresh linens on the tables. By then, Sean would be going along at full steam, finished dishes piling high and ready for fresh palates.
The air shifted as the front door swung open, the small bell above letting out a chime that was barely audible. It was just scarcely dark and too early for any of his patrons to arrive, despite their immunity to the sun. They wouldn’t burst into flames, but it was easy to get dehydrated when your liquid diet was a few sips per week.
Munro straightened as Hollen stepped through the door, a fresh uniform on beneath his open jacket. The jacket had to be a size too big for the way it hung from him, falling to mid-thigh. It was completely unexpected in the late spring heat.
Excitement burst in his belly, zinging as fireflies that had warmth instantly spreading through his limbs. A grin touched Munro’s lips before he paused.
Hollen had seemed tired the night before, but now he looked exhausted. The dark lines under his eyes had deepened, his eyes bloodshot and lids drooping. Even the way he walked was a slow shuffle, compared to the perky step of their first encounter.
It was the pallor of his skin that really struck Munro. He was so pale that he nearly matched the white of his uniform, the majority of his color coming from his smattering of freckles. Corpses had better outlooks than Hollen as he blinked slowly, seeming to notice Munro standing there for the first time. I swear, it was only a few sips.
“Hollen.” Munro rushed to his side, grasping his shoulder as Hollen swayed. “Are you okay? Who did this to you? Was it…” He trailed off. It was very possible that Rhys had tracked Hollen to his home and had drained him close to death. Their connection had been complete for so many years, and Rhys had forever been the jealous type.
But it was hard to think so ill of Rhys. He was still a reasonable man who was completely devoted to him.
“Hi.” A tiny flush appeared on Hollen’s cheeks before he looked around the dining room. “What are you talking about? I’m fine. A little sore, maybe.” Sean cursed from the direction of the kitchen, and Hollen let out a soft laugh, rising to his toes and placing a swift kiss on Munro’s cheek. “I missed you. Is that weird?”
The spot on his cheek tingled, the dampness of Hollen’s kiss seeping its claws in. I ached for you every moment you were gone. “No.” Munro lowered his voice, tucking a strand of Hollen’s hair behind his ear. “But you don’t have to work if you’re still tired. I know I put you through the wringer when I promised you rest.”
Hollen winced as he smoothed a hand over his own ass. “Don’t I know it. I’m fine, though. Just a bit tired.”
If ‘just a bit tired’ was equivalent to ‘about to keel over’ then Munro could’ve believed him. Munro frowned, slipping his arm around Hollen’s waist and supporting him as he swayed. His heartbeat was still strong, pulsing sweetly on that vein that stood out. Everything else about him was limp, from his hair to his eyelids.
“Let me take you downstairs. You can rest for a bit longer.” Munro bit back everything else he wanted to stay. If you’d just stayed, you’d be fine right now.
“Nuh-uh.” Hollen shook his head, pressing his hand to Munro’s chest. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but I don’t want any handouts, even if they are from you. I can work, and I’m pulling a full shift this time.”
Sliding free, Hollen headed to the kitchen, greeting Sean as he entered. When Munro followed a few steps behind, Sean gave him a harsh glare.
“What the hell is this?” Sean’s humor from earlier had drained to nothing. “Did you almost drain the poor guy dry?” asked Sean, abandoning his bread to go to Hollen’s side. “You look terrible. Can I get you a drink, something to eat? An iron supplement?”
Hollen chuckled, shaking his head. He weaved a bit when he did, grasping the nearest counter and leaning into it. “I’m fine, really.” He smiled as he looked at Munro, a flush spreading over his cheeks. “I guess Munro filled you in.”
“Un-huh.” Sean didn’t seem to be listening, instead grasping Hollen by the shoulders and leading him to the stool on the side of the kitchen.
Hollen let out a harsh sigh as he took a seat, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “The boss was a genuine gentleman and only took a little sip. I just had a bit of a reaction to it.”
A reaction? Munro kneeled next to the chair, grasping Hollen’s wrist. The bites were still there and looked completely normal for being so fresh, the small pink dots shiny with healing skin. There was no swelling or redness that would spell anything worse.
“A bit?” Sean grabbed a glass from above the cupboards—one of the few that had never seen tea. He filled it, handing it to Hollen while giving Munro another dark look. “Does Benadryl help with something like that?”
Munro’s gut sank, guilt seeping into every pore that had been filled with elation. He had caused this. Maybe it was the reason Hollen had snuck away—too drained to say anything but too afraid to stay.
“George said I’ll be fine,” said Hollen before taking a long swig out of the glass. The water trembled within as he shook, a quivering breath passing through his lips.
Pure rage flared under Munro’s skin, and he had to drop Hollen’s wrist before he squeezed too tight. Hollen could ask him anything—anything in the world—but he still had no idea who George was or why he had such a closeness with Hollen. He could be waiting in the reeds to snatch him away the moment Munro’s heart opened. There was a chance he could already be working toward it.
If he heard that name one more time, he was going to snap. Was it Hollen’s lover? A family member? Or perhaps someone who he’d met online. Whatever claim he had on Hollen, Munro was going to strip him of it.
“Oh.” Sean nodded, gaze flickering over Munro, his scowl softening. “I guess you can trust him?”
Hollen nodded before setting the glass on the counter. He heaved himself up, offering Munro a hand. There was a touch of color to his cheeks now, but the darkness still remained. “With my life.”
That’s it. “I want to meet him.” Munro struggled to keep the growl from his voice as he cupped Hollen’s wrist, stroking the vulnerable underside. So I can kill him.
“Oh.” Hollen looked from Sean and back to him. “I think you already did? Kind of. He’s not like someone I can call on command. He does his own thing for the most part. Sometimes he just tags along.”
Sean chuckled, turning back to his bread that he was quickly assembling into the night’s dish. “You make him sound like a dog.”
“Oh, don’t tell him that,” said Hollen, his eyes going wide. “He would kill me.”
All the more reason to kill him first. Munro licked his lips. George’s blood would be sweet, but not nearly as sweet as Hollen’s. The satisfaction of draining him would be next to none.
“I should get to work.” Hollen grabbed for a few kettles and filling them with water. “What tea are we doing tonight, Chef?”
“For you—blue tea. Everyone else is getting the green tea blend.”
“’Kay.” Hollen started bustling about, as if he’d been in the kitchen for months. “Is the lady coming tonight?” He glanced to the vacant spot where one of Munro’s workers had stood the night before. She’d done her job well, barely resisting any of his influence.
Seconds on the clock ticked by, getting close enough to opening that she should have started her trek here.
Munro closed his eyes, reaching for her. She should have been on her first bus by now. He’d written it into her very brain when he’d gazed into her eyes during the interview. A few months here and she would be able to finally move out of the city and start a new life with her young son in a small villa she’d found in the country. The only thing she’d be missing by that time was the memory of tea. She would have gained a few scars on her wrists and neck in exchange for the extra Munro made sure to tip.
The place where she’d occupied in the small uninteresting portion of his mind was utterly blank. She wasn’t lost or missing—just gone. He stretched further, putting a hand over his eyes to block the light from the kitchen. He found her apartment with ease, the walls blank and the linens missing.
“She won’t be coming in,” said Munro, opening his eyes. “I’ll see if we can get any extra help for this evening.” It would probably only take a few trips down back alleys to find a candidate who needed a decent paycheck, and he kept extra uniforms for a reason.
“We can handle it,” said Hollen, his hand trembling as he stacked the first few teacups onto the expensive trays. “As long as you greet everyone, then I’ll focus on the tea and getting the trays ready. As long as we have wait staff, we should be good.”
Munro nodded, his gaze lingering on Hollen, even as he reached for the others. One was pushing through the door now, their uniform already crisp as they washed their hands and started straightening the place settings Munro had set out. The others weren’t far behind, filling the teahouse with their silence.
Munro looked up, his gaze locked at the entrance beyond the dining room as the first few of his kind stepped through the door. They moved to a table without word or direction. When they saw him hovering at the door, they gave a bow, one dipping much lower than the other.
He gave them a curt nod, freezing as the door swung wide again. His stomach flipped, but not in the same way it had for Hollen.
Leaving the kitchen behind, he stormed to the door, his hands shaking by the time he reached Rhys. Hollen’s soft voice as he spoke with Sean pushed him on faster, until he blocked Rhys from taking another step.
Rhys had lost his usual attire of half-naked, standing in a T-shirt and track pants that had a small rip in the knee. His eyes were bright as he peered around the room, barely sparing Munro a second glance with his fangs and claws on display.
It was the most aggressive Munro had seen him in a long time.
“I told you not to return,” said Munro, keeping his voice level and shifting so he was between Rhys and Hollen. There was still the murmur of his voice from the kitchen. Hopefully, Hollen wouldn’t find any excuse to pop his head out here.
The two vampires who had just sat down looked their way, leaning closer to their table as their green tea arrived. Fresh spices filled the air, but they didn’t reach for their cups. A bit of gossip went a long way in their world of monotony.
Rhys held up his hands, his gaze now locked on Munro. “I only came to apologize, Covi.” There was blood on his breath—a cloying scent that was all too familiar. Munro knew that scent and exactly who it belonged to.
He glanced toward the kitchen where Hollen was working on the other side of the wall, taking over her role so seamlessly that her empty apartment had not alarmed Munro in the slightest until now.
“I don’t think you did,” said Munro, taking a step back. The back of his shirt clung to him as the hairs on his arms raised on end. “Leave.”
The room shifted, and Munro clenched his hands into fists, stiffening as Rhys looked over his shoulder. A smile stretched over his lips as Hollen’s scent grew thicker, mixed with the deepness of tea as he carried some to another table, which would soon be occupied.
“I see I wasn’t the only one who was having fun.” Rhys let out a low laugh, licking at his exposed fangs. “It looks like you only left him enough to stay alive. He must’ve been delicious.” He stepped closer to Munro, heat radiating from him. Munro could see his excitement through his loose clothes, power radiating from him.
“I will end you.” Munro raised his voice, his fury boiling over.
The dining room went silent, Hollen freezing with teacups in his hands.
Rhys only laughed. “After centuries together, you’re going to choose a pathetic blood bag over me? I’ve been a friend to you—a lover. I saved your life more times than I can count—”
“And yet, every moment means nothing.” Munro’s chest ached as he said it, his eyes burning. It was so painfully true, smacking the air with a crack of pure voltage. “I never should have brought you into my life. You took every monstrous part of me and twisted it to your desires.”
Rhys withdrew as if he’d been slapped. He narrowed his eyes, curling his lips back over his teeth. “You’re going to regret this. I can’t believe you’re doing this to me after all I’ve done.”
“I’m sure I will,” said Munro.
Rhys let out a growl, casting one last glance at Hollen before he spun on his heels. “Get out of my way!” He pushed the newest patrons aside as they stepped through the door, warm air following him into the night.