Chapter Twenty-Three
Hollen
Adair touched his cheek, his hand a gentle caress in a tumultuous dream. The landscape of sand and golden tapestries slowly retreated until he blinked his eyes open, staring at the ceiling above.
“You okay, baby? You fell asleep on the couch.” Adair touched him again, his nerves prickling as he retreated. A chill was left in his wake, streaking across Hollen’s face.
“Am I…okay?” Hollen rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His limbs were heavy with sleep and something more, his stomach twisting from hunger. The air smelled of peppers and something fresh, the taste of it on his tongue where there had been salt and sand a moment ago. “I don’t know.”
Adair’s face darkened with concern as he placed the back of his hand over Hollen’s forehead. “You’re not warm. If anything, you feel a little cool. Did you need a blanket?”
Hollen shook his head. If Adair put a blanket on him, the weight would surely squash him. His clothes were heavy, made of iron instead of light fabric. Even breathing was difficult.
“You’ve been working too hard.” Adair bit his lip. “Night shifts are always hard on you, but this one seems worse. The next time I see your boss, I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”
“Don’t.” It was barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this right now.” Hollen closed his eyes, the dreams beckoning him again. It had been so peaceful there with the warmth of the sun on his tanned skin and his lips aching from kissing someone. He had a feeling it wasn’t Munro in his dreams but someone else. A flash of blond hair and brown eyes shifted over his vision. They seemed so familiar.
“Hollen.”
Hollen shifted at the sound of his name, slowly blinking his eyes open again. The lines on Adair’s face had deepened, concern etched into him.
“What’s going on?”
Hollen let out a huff. It was impossible to explain. He could feel himself in his own skin, the fractured slivers lying next to George and shrinking by the day. “George.”
George shifted, whispering beneath his skin. “ Sleep .”
Adair touched his face again, frantically moving his fingers. “What do you mean? Hollen? Hollen?”
*****
George
“He’s asleep,” said George, his voice echoing through Hollen’s lips as Hollen slipped away to the back of his mind, the dreamscape George had built for him more peaceful than any of his waking days. “He’s been working hard, and he’s exhausted. Please let him sleep.”
Adair leaned back, worrying his lip as George sat up before slipping his feet off the edge of the couch.
“Don’t fret.” George reached for Adair, grasping his hand with a light touch. “He’s just feeling a little under the weather. Give him a couple of hours, and he’ll be as good as new.” He swallowed at the lie, forcing himself to hold Adair’s gaze.
“I’m worried.” Adair drew his hand to his chest. “He’s worked strange shifts before and been at places where he’s out all hours of the night, but nothing like this has ever happened. It’s like he’s fading away.”
George shook his head. “I won’t let that happen.”
“But…” Adair slid next to him on the couch, shifting on the uncomfortable cushion. Of all the modern amenities, couches had to be one of the best and worst. In theory, they were wonderful things, with cushions piled high and a place to rest his weary feet. But ones like this, with groaning frames and bursting springs, were worse than a bench made of stone.
George pushed himself up. His back ached from sleeping on the surface, muscles twinging before energy rippled beneath his skin to heal him. Hollen faded a little more along with the ache, drawing deeper into sleep. “Hollen is very important to me. Trust me to keep him safe.”
Adair ducked his head. “I do— I mean, I don’t really think I have a choice. You don’t seem like a bad guy, but I really want to be with my friend. I barely see him anymore. I just want to sit with him and snuggle on the couch, watching crappy television like we used to. Can I at least talk to him?”
George shook his head. “He’s deep asleep right now. I could hurt him just by trying to wake him.” His stomach tightened as he looked from Adair’s eyes to the curve of his lips. He really was one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen. When sitting quietly, he was all softness and gentle pleasure, the warm glow of his skin echoing the sun. It was nothing to the moments when George had really seen him move, though.
“I could watch with you instead?” George smoothed his fingers over Adair’s hand, bringing it close. His skin was so warm, the tan a contrast to the swirling tattoos. He could picture the natural gold of his own skin from centuries before matching Adair’s, perfectly sun-kissed and flawless.
“I usually sleep when you and Hollen spend time together.” George squeezed his hand. “Up until recently, at least.” He cleared his throat, shifting on the couch. “I saw you dance the other day. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
Adair’s cheeks colored, his lips quirking. “It was just a dance.”
George shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. You were the music. I didn’t know someone could move that way—their body more fluid than man. I’ve seen…illusions like that, but nothing so real and perfect.”
Adair shifted uncomfortably. “Now you’re really sounding like Hollen. I swear he’s my one-man cheering squad. It’s nothing…really. I mean, I’m not even that good.”
George shook his head, reaching to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind Adair’s ear. Adair shivered at the touch, something heated in his gaze. “I can’t believe that someone so beautiful could be so blind.”
“I’m not.” Adair swallowed, his throat bobbing. “Please.”
“Please what?” asked George, skimming his knuckles along Adair’s shoulder, higher and higher until he touched the pulse at Adair’s throat. “Whatever you ask, I won’t deny you.”
Adair sucked in a breath as George moved his hand, placing his fingers around Adair’s throat. He was so vulnerable and sweet, but with one move he could squeeze the life out of him. And yet, he lightly traced the golden skin of Adair’s neck, relishing in the pure life of him.
“What do you want?” whispered George, leaning in close until he could smell the tremor of Adair’s limbs. Nervousness and fear swirled between them, but George wasn’t certain if it was Adair’s or his own.
“We shouldn’t. This feels so strange.” Adair caught his gaze, the glimmer drawing him in. “Hollen is my best friend.”
Guilt twinged in his gut so strongly that George had to drag his gaze away, his heart pounding. He had almost kissed Adair—something he promised himself would never happen again after his true mate had been torn from him.
Adair touched him, a warm pressure against his cheek. “That doesn’t mean we can’t.”
Before George could react, Adair was kissing him, a light brush of his lips and the soft wetness of him. He sucked in a breath through his nose at the sheer shock of it that crept up his spine with dazzling urgency. A hushed moan seeped through his lips before he grasped the back of Adair’s neck, drawing him closer.
The sensation was so familiar yet startlingly different to his nearly forgotten memories of lazy kisses and more with a lover who had meant everything to him. For one, Adair was taller than him by enough that he had to crane his neck, his spine aching from the angle.
There was also the realization that he had no idea what he was doing. Adair didn’t seem to mind, taking his time before sweeping his tongue against him, asking permission rather than taking it. George stiffened as he gave in, his eyes open and locked on Adair’s closed ones.
I don’t deserve this. The guilt in his core thickened to a dark disease.
He turned his head to the side, breaking the kiss with a gasp. Adair didn’t try to follow, opening his eyes and regarding George with hesitance in his gaze.
“I’m sorry if that was too much,” said Adair, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip. “Was it weird?”
George shook his head, the lump growing in his throat as his stomach threatened to betray him. He hadn’t been sick in a thousand years, but the deepest betrayal was apparently the thing that was going to tip the scale.
I don’t have a choice. He couldn’t do this—not to Hollen or Adair…or that bastard vampire who was the true meaning of foul.
“I-I have to see Munro.” George cleared his throat. “Hollen’s boss. I think he’ll be able to help us. Hollen is…” He trailed off. He could scarcely feel the dear boy, nestled in that small space he’d created next to the nexus of his heart. “He’s more weary than I expected.”
Adair jerked to his feet, panic cross his features. “Will he be okay?”
George nodded, his movements stuttered. “I promise.”
He moved to stand, but Adair reached out to grasp his shoulder. “I can’t let you do this alone. I’m coming with you.”