Chapter Twenty-Two
Hollen
Munro was so warm, his usually cool skin soft and heated as Hollen buried his hands into his shirt. He’d been clinging to him in dining room of the restaurant for close to a half hour, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Once he was standing on his own again, he knew he’d have to face the facts.
Someone is lying to me.
He could see it in Munro’s face when he asked if he was going to die. The word ‘yes’ must’ve been right on the tip of his tongue before George spoke up, his voice so strong and clear in his head that it seemed louder than his own. “ I won’t let you die.”
“I didn’t realize you’d taken on a lover.”
Hollen peered over Munro’s shoulder to the only other vampire who remained in the room. Everyone else had retreated to either down the hall or had trickled out of the front door once George had decided enough was enough with his posturing. The other vampire was beautiful, with long hair tied into a ponytail and blue eyes almost as pale as Munro’s.
“It wasn’t planned, Erie,” said Munro, “Just like I didn’t dare hope for the best when I sent you on your task. But I’m glad things turned out the way they did…on both counts.”
Erie. Hollen gasped, his eyes going wide. This was the one George told him about—Munro’s son who lived with wolves in the mountains.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” said Hollen, slipping out of the hug and holding his hand out for Erie. His knees wavered, but he locked them. “George told me all about you. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
Erie stared at his hand for a moment before gingerly accepting the offer. His palm was even cooler than Munro’s usually was, the pale skin stark against Hollen’s slightly golden hue.
“Pleasure.” Erie frowned, shaking Hollen’s hand before snatching it back.
Hollen forced a smile on his face, even as his knees shook. There was still a warmth in his limbs from George, but he was weak. It was terrifying to think he could slip again at any moment.
“I didn’t realize we were acquainted,” said Erie. He wiped his hand on his pants, his lips pressed into a thin line. Bits of fur, both black and white, clung to his clothes, sinking between the fabric strands.
Hollen could spot the similarities to Munro with the way Erie held himself, his neck a touch stiffer than most, along with the strange accent that Hollen hadn’t realized was there until he’d heard it on someone else’s lips. And those eyes— They were bright with something that he couldn’t quite describe.
“We aren’t.” Hollen dropped his hand to his side before leaning into Munro, who had come up behind him. He shot a look up at Munro, sheepish. “I might have pretended to know you to get the job here. George said you lived in the mountains.”
“Not quite.” Erie narrowed his eyes. “Did he tell you anything else?”
Hollen nodded, even as Munro stiffened behind him. He was treading dangerous ground with George still grumbling in his head and Munro at his back. They were two opposing forces, but they both seemed to want the same thing— him.
“George tells me a lot of things. It doesn’t mean I’m going to repeat them.” Hollen wasn’t sure how George knew the details—maybe he slipped into minds other than his own or cruised in the heart of an eagle some days. Either way, there were things about Erie that were best left unsaid, especially when his choice of lovers might turn every vampire against him.
Erie seemed to relax, dropping his shoulders and his gaze. “I should be going. My new friends will be missing me. Munro, are you prepared?”
Munro shook his head, his hair tickling Hollen’s cheeks. “That depends on Hollen.”
“What should I do, Munro?” asked Hollen. He touched the back of Munro’s hands, which were grasping his waist. He couldn’t keep working—not when he could barely stand, but he couldn’t go home either and pretend as if the last few hours hadn’t happened.
“Erie, I may need your help. Stay here—bring your new friend if you need to,” said Munro, suddenly tightening his grip on Hollen’s waist. “I’ll never ask anything of you again.”
Erie narrowed his eyes, a frown on his lips. “I’m not dragging my mates into this mess, no matter what your promises are. I came here to help you destroy a demon, and that’s as far as this goes.”
“So there is more than one,” said Munro, avoiding the true topic. He flexed his hands, pulling Hollen tighter.
“ He means soulmate ,” said George, whispering into Hollen’s ears alone. Oh. How beautiful. At least vampires did one thing very, very right. But could that mean that Munro…was his mate? It hurt his head just to think of it.
“You tasked me to leave my family behind and bring the cultures together,” said Erie, letting out a huff. “I risked my life and nearly died, but I completed my task. I owe you nothing.”
“I didn’t ask you to fuck them,” said Munro, dipping his hands lower to Hollen’s belly, his grip steady and soft.
Erie paused, his cheeks tinting pink. “I love them.”
“And I love Hollen.” Munro squeezed. “I won’t do anything to hurt him.”
Hollen couldn’t smother his gasp, his face burning as Erie’s gaze dropped to him. There was surprise there—the same surprise that was thudding through his own veins. He had guessed that Munro’s feelings ran deep, but he’d never thought love was on the table. He hadn’t even considered it for himself, too swept up in a new world and life.
Erie nodded, shifting his gaze to the side. “I can’t help you—they can’t either. They’re wolves—and not the kind that you’ve met before. There is something completely wild about them…and possessive. If someone else steps on their territory, they’ll rip them apart the same way they did me.”
Hollen bit his tongue. That sounded awful. He could picture Erie in a dark wood, bleeding from a bite to his side as he was stalked through the trunks of the trees.
“But I’ve heard some whisperings,” said Erie, locking gazes with Hollen. “The faeries say they lost a gem. Word is that it has incredible powers.”
“I have no use for jewels.” Munro shook his head. His hands were getting dangerously low, skirting the top edge of Hollen’s pants. It was possessive and staked his claim in the most obvious way. “I need magic.”
“I don’t know,” said Erie, shaking his head. “Some of the stories… It sounds like magic. I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“Can it help Hollen?” asked Munro. He stayed silent, staring at Erie as he looked away.
“No.” Erie shook his head. Lowering his gaze, he regarded Hollen. “I don’t know. I would never be able to find it.”
Hollen swallowed, trying not to flinch when Munro let out a low growl.
“Do you know how easy it would be for me to make them disappear?” Munro didn’t move a muscle. “Wolves are nothing to my power. You should remember that. I wouldn’t have to lift a finger for them to be gone, their entrails the only thing to be scraped off the pavement on a back road to nowhere.”
“You wouldn’t.” Erie took a step closer, his wary gaze still locked on Hollen. He flexed his hand, the tips of his nails unnaturally sharp. “I’ve always been your favorite. You wouldn’t touch them.”
“You underestimate my desperation.”
Hollen gulped, his gut swirling. Here they were trading death threats over him— him. Without George, he was a nobody. He didn’t have fangs or claws or wings—or even much in his life that was exciting. He could be happy with his best friends and his cat, curled up on the couch, listening to Adair in the kitchen and George in his head.
“It’s okay.” Hollen placed his hands over Munro’s. “I’ll be alright.” He turned, leaning up on his toes to kiss Munro’s chin. “You can let me go now.”
It caught Hollen off guard when Munro dipped down, sealing their lips together. There was a grip in his hair, holding him fierce as he opened his mouth in a quiet gasp. Munro was everywhere, with spice in the air and his taste on Hollen’s tongue.
“Don’t you dare,” said Munro as he pulled back. “I didn’t wade through centuries of mind-numbing dullards to finally find love, only to be denied. You ask the impossible.”
He brought their lips together again, touching one hand to Hollen’s chest. He was sure Munro could feel his heart pounding, his blood pumping through his veins as he curled his toes.
“I don’t know what this is,” said Munro, grasping Hollen’s hand and bringing it to his own chest. His chest rose and fell with each breath, denying every legend about the undead. “But I’ve felt it since the moment I met you. You make me feel real.”
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Hollen stared at his hand on Munro’s chest. Someone strong should never look so afraid.
“Try to get rid of me,” said Munro, bringing their foreheads together. “It won’t work.” He touched Hollen’s chin, slipping over his lips with his tongue. Hollen was harder than he should have been while standing in a teahouse, and luckily George seemed to take that as his cue, instantly retreating.
“I’ll try to find something—a jewel…magic—whatever I can,” said Erie.
Hollen pulled away, his cheeks flushing hot. He’d forgotten Erie was even there, his watchful eyes on them.
Erie shook his head before pressing his fingers to his forehead. “But I’m not making any promises. And after this we’re done.” His gaze was steady. “I’ll never hear from you again.”
A smile lit Munro’s face, banishing the darkness.
*****
Munro
He couldn’t part with Hollen—not yet—but he still let go, leading Hollen home and turning away at the door. The room had smelled like cookies and sweetness before the door was shut, the flimsy wood not enough to keep anything out.
When he arrived back at the teahouse, his stomach was in his throat, his gut churning sharply. The others had left, dismissed almost as soon as they had arrived, except Erie. He was bent over a thick yellowing volume, scanning the page before flipping it to the next gently.
There was no calm permeation of spices, only a quiet loneliness that had steadily been getting louder. In the hours between Hollen, a bleakness had settled in.
“I won’t be able to find this, Munro.” Erie straightened from the book. His eyes were clouded with red. As far as Munro knew, he hadn’t rested since he’d left his home, clearly on edge since he’d arrived.
Munro closed the distance between them, peering at the page. The ink was tiny and swirled, the language barely recognizable.
Erie stretched his hand across the table, rubbing his pinky finger against the back of Munro’s hand. “You and I both know what needs to happen here. I can go through these ancient books and comb the past for magic, but I won’t find it here.”
“I won’t do it.” Munro shook his head. “I can’t.”
“As much as you think you are, you’re not alone in this world.” Erie lowered his voice, the syllables soothing. “I’ll help you.”
A sob was caught in his throat, tears dangling in his eyes as he burned. He couldn’t respond. Strength had been his ally for the entirety of his life, but now he was reduced to a whimpering beast by a demon.
“Don’t help me.” Munro shook his head, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. His fingers came away wet.
“Munro.” Erie let out a long sigh, closing the book with a thud. “You don’t have a choice anymore.”