Chapter Seventeen
Hollen
He leaned heavily against the counter, his fingertips slipping against the surface as sweat oozed from him. He’d been flashing hot and cold all night, his ears pounding in the worst moments, and his heart beating fast every time he carried something that was more than a few pounds.
Pure adrenalin was the only thing keeping him going, snapping him awake every time he nearly fell or when he accidentally poured hot water over his wrist instead of inside the pot.
“ Go home ,” said George, his calm voice slipping between his thoughts. Hollen grasped onto it, struggling to hold onto the tray in his hands. His fingers were almost numb, the tips more sensitive than should have been possible.
“So you can hit on my best friend?” Hollen shook his head, forcing a huff through his lips. “You know I have to stay the whole night if I’m going to be able to pay rent this month. I’ve used up all my favors, and I’m not going to ask another one of Munro.”
He was already behind, and the landlord would be knocking in a few days if he didn’t cough up the money. A note had already been slipped under his door, which he’d managed to crumple up before Adair saw it.
“You okay?” asked Sean as Hollen grasped another plate, balancing the fancy tray with sheer willpower. His hand trembled, the glasses on it jingling as he shook. Each set had a different design, more often flowers and roses than anything sinful.
Hollen took a deep breath, blinking away the cloudiness in his vision. “I’m fine.”
One moment he was on his feet, food in hand, and the next he was on his knees, glass tinkling as it shattered over the kitchen floor. He couldn’t feel his arms or his legs, only a distant tingling in his fingers as his vision wavered.
Sean was at his side, his voice muffled by the noise in his ears. When Hollen let out a whooshing breath, his lungs ached, screaming for air. He dragged in a breath as deep as he could, but it did nothing.
“Did the boss do this to you?” asked Sean, wrapping his arm around Hollen’s shoulders as he struggled to stay upright. Heat flushed over his skin, aided by the vents that always seemed to be cranked to their highest. His collar was too tight, clothes clinging to his skin.
Sean lowered his voice, leaning in close and grasping Hollen as he nearly keeled over. “I can help you get away. I know people.”
Hollen shook his head, his vision blinking at the movement. “No, he didn’t. He’s— I don’t know what’s going on.” He took in a shuddering breath as bile burned in his throat. “I have to finish my shift. I need the money.”
Sean let out a huff. “Buddy, you can’t stand.”
He leaned against Sean, pressing his palms to the cold floor. His knuckles burned bright, the flush traveling over his skin.
He flinched as Munro rounded the corner, his hair in disarray in the way it had been since Rhys had shown up. His eyes went wide as he spotted them before he hustled over, kneeling in front of Hollen.
“What did you do?” asked Munro, his glare aimed straight at Sean.
Hollen blinked, Munro’s words swimming through the molasses in his ears.
“Me?” Sean stiffened, his arm going tight. “I’m not the one who bit and fucked him so hard he can hardly walk straight. Did you fuck with his head, too? I thought you said he was in the clear.”
Hollen’s ears buzzed, the conversation going in and out as Munro raised his voice. Hollen reached for him, but his fingers barely twitched, locked to the coolness of the floor.
In a blur of color, Munro stormed away, shouting as he moved to the dining room. There was an influx of sound, dishes crashing, and an echo of voices slowly getting softer.
“Finally, he does the right thing for once,” said Sean, hissing under his breath as Hollen leaned heavily into his chest.
“Sorry.” Hollen closed his eyes, trying to muster up any whiff of strength. “I can finish my shift. Just give me a second.” His tongue was slow, swimming through the same syrup that was in his bones. He was so, so hot.
Sean rubbed his shoulder, the touch soothing. “He’s kicking everyone out and shutting us down for the night, buddy.”
There was something in his chest for the first time Hollen could remember, sinking its fingers deep and churning his belly. Fear— so real that it shocked his heart.
He hadn’t believed George—not really—but the proof was in his shaking limbs and fluttering breath. He could have died. Hell, he might still if he let himself fall into the summoning slumber.
Munro was dangerous.
He blinked, trying to clear the shadows in his peripheral as Munro kneeled before them. His eyes were cold, the flush to his lips more pronounced than ever. That hunger in his looks was still there. Maybe it always would be that threat and promise that eventually would win him over.
If they were ever entwined again, so intimately that they couldn’t tell limb from limb, Hollen would give in. He knew it in his heart that he would tilt his head back, offering his neck and hoping for that bite of pain that would bring so much pleasure. Even now he ached for it, like an addict solely focused on a fix instead of their rumbling belly.
“Get away.” Hollen’s words were barely a whisper but both men froze, Sean going tense against him. Hollen breathed through the ache in his chest and his pounding heart. “Munro, it’s not safe.”
It will pass. I’ll feel better soon.
He tried to swallow but his mouth had forgotten how to work, saliva gathering at the edges of his numb lips. George stirring in his chest was the only thing keeping him awake, his presence warm and utterly complete.
I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you. His consciousness was slipping away, each strand of it snapping until there was nothing except a thin fiber.
“George, can you get me home? T—take me somewhere safe?”
“He’s delusional,” said Munro, that edge to him cutting Hollen deep. How many times had he heard something so similar from others who looked at him with concern or fear? Munro should understand. He was the only one to really get him.
“Give the guy a break.” Sean grabbed him when he started to slip sideways. “He’s barely conscious.” His hug smothered Hollen in bread and spices when what he really needed was fresh air.
George stirred, spreading from his chest to his limbs and pushing the numbness away to the very tips. “ Yes .”
It was the strength amongst Hollen’s weakening limbs, the fibers straining harder until his eyelids slipped all the way shut.
“ Trust me, Hollen. I’ll keep you safe .” The voice was so deep inside that it was everywhere, even mixed with the desperation of his own thoughts.
As Hollen receded to the last thread, George surged ahead. Sometimes it felt like that when he was on the edge of his dreams, but George had never been so much before. It was that security blanket that he needed so dearly, and the only thing that could protect him from the threat he longed for.
Hollen jerked as a cool hand touched his cheek, opening his eyes at the sudden shock that strengthened him. Munro stared at him with his forehead furrowed, a frown twisting his lips. It took everything in Hollen to turn his head away and not lean in. Tearing away his gaze made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t sure would heal.
Munro had protected him from Rhys and the others that night, but George was right. They were on different levels of the same food chain.
“I can’t stay here, Munro.” Hollen closed his eyes, leaning heavily against Sean as his vision swam. “It’s not safe.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” said Munro, the deepness of his voice breathtaking. Sean was shaking—or maybe it was Hollen trembling in his hold.
Hollen tilted his head back, trying to keep from looking. “You want to bite me.”
It wasn’t a question. Munro had been staring at his wrist since he’d arrived, his gaze flickering to his neck throughout the night, especially after Rhys had been sent away. Every time Hollen brushed against the marks that were barely tiny pink raised bumps, he wanted to tilt his head and feel those teeth pressed somewhere more intimate and dangerous.
If he moved with Munro biting him, would it kill him? His teeth had been so sharp—sharp enough to dent bone and slice through muscle.
“I won’t.” This time Munro did growl. Sean shifted, but he was too slow to get away before Munro placed a chilled hand on Hollen’s shoulder. “I’m a vampire, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to my nature. I’m not a beast.”
“ He’s lying ,” said George, hissing in Hollen’s ears. “ He’s a murderer—a monster. He’s killed more people than you could imagine. Empires have fallen at his feet .”
Hollen shook his head, trying to chase the voice away. None of that made sense. He didn’t know who to believe. His heart snapped in two.
Hollen struggled to open his eyes, finding Munro in the dimming light. “If you bite me again, it will kill me. Now, a month from now or in a year—it won’t matter.” At this rate, that’ll be this week.
“Oh.” Munro rocked back on his heels, dropping his hand to his side. He narrowed his eyes, the look on his face heartbreaking. “I don’t need to bite you to love you.”
Love? Hollen trembled under the force of the word. He felt the connection, too, running deep and thick and binding him to Munro, even though he should have run away at first sight. He hadn’t realized it might be love because he’d never felt anything like it.
“Can you take me home, Chef?” asked Hollen, his voice trembling as his eyes burned. He couldn’t look at Munro right now—not with his heart sliced into little bits with the offering of a life he could never have. Munro was a vampire, and Hollen was always going to be part of the menu.
“Hollen—”
“I got ya, buddy,” said Sean, cutting Munro off. “Let’s get you home. Boss, I’ll be back in a few. Hold down the fort for me, will ya? And make sure all those vamps leave.” He gestured toward the dining room.
The world tilted as Sean stood, half-dragging Hollen to his feet. Sweat clung to every bit of him, all the blood from his body rushing straight toward his toes.
“Fuck, you’re heavy for a small guy.”
Hollen tried to help, but his feet slipped over the floor uselessly, buckling under his own weight. Sean strained, letting out a soft laugh under his breath.
George cleared his throat, drawing Hollen’s attention. “Allow me.”
Energy zapped through his limbs, a yelp pushing through Hollen’s lips. A moment later he was standing on his own, Sean looking at him with wide eyes and Munro with confusion etched into his features.
Every nerve buzzed, the kitchen highlighted with bright reds and oranges as a final tremble traveled down his leg.
“I should be good.” Hollen held out his hands, staring at them. He couldn’t exactly feel them in the way he normally could. It was almost like an echo—like touching someone else’s hand and imagining what they were feeling. When he clenched his fist, his fingers reacted a moment too late, curling before his eyes until his fingertips were pressed into his palm.
Sean let out a soft whistle. “Let’s get you home, kid.”
Hollen waved his hand. His gut was churning uncomfortably, but he was steady, the fuzziness mostly receded. “I don’t want to be a bother. I can find my way home now that I’ve got my second wind.”
Sean gave him a skeptical look as Hollen avoided Munro’s gaze. If he looked now, he would just end up lingering a few beats too long. The idea of Munro’s bed sounded so good right now.
“Are you going to be okay?” Sean dropped his hand, cleaning the breadcrumbs from his knees. “It’s really no bother to take you home. I’ve got my truck parked out front, and Munro will make sure all but the crew are cleared out.”
“I’m good.” Better than good. Other than some weird tingling, he could probably run home and still have enough energy to make Adair a batch of cookies. Adair could struggle through them when he accidentally mixed up the sugar and salt, which was something he did way too frequently.
His hand trembled, the tips of his fingers strained dark against the paleness of the rest. Without looking back, he headed outside, sidestepping Munro’s outstretched hand. Get out. Get out!
“You know, for almost being dead according to you, now I feel great,” said Hollen, picking up his pace as soon as he hit the street and ducking into the alley that took him the short way home. It also would avoid any strange looks that he would probably get from his very white uniform and the rapidly spreading stain on his fingers. His knuckles were already getting darker, his nails the color of liquid ink.
“ I’m pervading ninety percent of your body right now ,” said George. Hollen yelped when his hand rose seemingly of its own accord, his finger poking him in the cheek. “ Think of yourself like a puppet being dragged along by willing strings .”
How terrifying. “I don’t think puppets live very nice lives.” He jumped over a puddle that was shining in the moonlight, clearing several feet beyond what he’d meant to. The slap of his landing echoed against the walls, the beat lasting so much longer than it should have.
“I was terrified of Pinocchio when I was a kid.” Hollen slowed his pace, touching his nose just in case. “I didn’t lie for a whole year because I thought my nose would get bigger.”
George chuckled, inkiness seeping up to his elbows and matching the dark shadows of the alley. They clung to nearly everywhere except the brighter spots illuminated by the moon. “ Possession—even of adorable puppets—can be a terrifying thing, I’m sure .”
The click of a footstep sounded behind him, and before Hollen could turn, his breath was suddenly pushed through his lungs, his back hitting the nearest wall with the pressure of cool iron around his throat. He was momentarily stunned as his head knocked against the brick, the peek of the night sky through the tops of the buildings swimming before him.
“Hey, sweet rabbit. On your way home?”
Rhys’ voice sent a shock of utter terror straight through him. The vampire towered over him, all broad shoulders and piercing eyes. The T-shirt and scrappy track pants did nothing to take away from the sheer intimidation that trickled down his spine.
“Rabbit?” Hollen coughed under the pressure against his throat, scratching at Rhys’ hands as he tightened his grip.
“Yes.” Rhys leaned in, dragging his lips over Hollen’s ear as he pinned him harder to the wall. “It’s the name Munro has called me for centuries. I thought it would be fitting for you—a lost little rabbit running through wonderland, just like I was.”
His gut throbbed, something akin to jealousy running hot. Munro wasn’t his, but their intimacy was something that couldn’t have been faked.
When he kicked out, Rhys only chuckled, nuzzling his nose closer to Hollen’s throat. With his hand wrapped around it, it wasn’t just a threat. “What? Did you think you had a chance? Fodder like you never last. Even the sweetest strawberries are easy to get sick of after time. And you are no sweet thing.”
Each word was like a slap, the pressure going tighter on Hollen’s neck until his breath was trapped in his throat.
“ Let me take care of this bastard ,” said George, the fire of him almost painful as it flickered beneath Hollen’s skin. The darkness covered his arms, but Rhys didn’t seem to notice. “ Give me the word. Let me take complete control .”
“Don’t kill him.” It was almost impossible to get the words out, most of them silent syllables perched on his tongue.
Rhys threw his head back in a laugh, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. It was a full moon, the energy of it prickling over his skin. The darkness of his arms seemed to glow in it, soaking power from the rays alone.
“I would never kill Munro. We’re soulmates. The end of the earth is the only way we will ever be parted, and even then, we will be entwined together awaiting the next beginning.” Rhys dug his nails in, the points threatening to break skin.
Hollen didn’t give in so much as fade away, his vision narrowing to a tunnel of light down a long, dark tube. Fire filled his veins, roaring until there was an inferno burning over his flesh. Pale skin faded to dark ash, dust and gloom tumbling from his flesh.
Rhys let out a scream, the noise enough to piece straight through his ears. The vampire stumbled back, drawing his hand to his chest as it glowed red. Flames licked over his skin, the smoky ash twisting into the air with a thick, putrid scent.
Rhys stumbled, clutching his hand tight as he went to his knees, the skin burning brighter until only charred black remained. When he looked up, his eyes were narrowed with fury and pain.
“I’m going to destroy you.” Rhys surged to his feet, striking out at Hollen with his undamaged hand as daggered claws sprouted from his fingertips.
Hollen moved without even knowing it, George taking control faster than he could see and shifting him to the side. The chuckle that came from Hollen’s throat was startling and deep, rivaling Munro’s in his most passionate moments. Pure elation surged through him with the freedom of all but the narrowing tunnel of sight.
Rhys slammed against the wall where Hollen had been, falling to his knees and crying out when his charred hand struck the solid brick. Tears of thick blood rolled down his cheeks, strands of hair sticking to it until it streaked across his face.
He crouched, terror settling in his gaze. “What in the hell are you?”
Hollen tilted his head to the sky, letting out a laugh that echoed across the alley and out to the street. His stride was languid as he snapped his gaze on Rhys, reveling in the fearful whimper.
“That’s a secret,” said George, his voice echoing in the alley in the same way it would in Hollen’s head. “Would you like to hear it?” He laughed again, dark and low as Rhys simply stared.
“George! I told you not to kill him.” Hollen yelled it as loud as he could down the tunnel, but the words never escaped his mouth. George seemed to hear him, though, letting out a soft sigh that cut off his laugh.
“The kid wants me to go easy on you, but I have a feeling you won’t be stopped with a measly warning.” George grinned, lunging and wrapping a hand around Rhys’s throat before lifting him clean off the ground. He pinned him to the opposite wall in the same way Rhys had pinned Hollen, only George was dwarfed in size.
“I can make your neck match your hand,” said George, squeezing so hard that Hollen could feel the echo of Rhys’ pulse bulge beneath his fingertips. “But I have a feeling that might just kill you. I wouldn’t want to stomp on such a moral high ground. So instead, I’ll just take a souvenir.”
Faster than Hollen could think, George was prying Rhys’ mouth open, grabbing each fang before pulling it from his gums in a torrent of blood. The dark laugh hit the air as he tore the last one free before stepping back from Rhys and letting him fall to the ground.
Rhys twitched, reaching for Hollen as blood poured from his mouth, pooling on the blackened asphalt. His nails were still sharp, the points sharp enough to pierce flesh, but he barely twitched in his movements, obviously too weak to stand.
George took a step, pressing the toe of his shoe into the back of Rhys’ hand. “Test me, little vampire. Please do. Any excuse for a bit of fun is fine by me.”
“George, please take us home,” said Hollen, his voice still mute in his own head. He was getting quieter, muffled by the pounding of George’s presence. “Adair will be worried.”
George paused, tilting his head. “He has a point.” His breath steamed as he exhaled, made of smoke instead of air. “We’ll be off. Stay out of trouble, little vampire.”
When he reached the end of the alley, he paused, looking over his shoulder. Rhys was choking in his own blood, his eyes burning with pure rage. “And if you don’t—? Well…you know where to find me.”