Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
YORICK
When I wake this time, the pain isn’t as severe. It’s strange to be in pain for this long. As a vampire, pain is an instant thing that almost immediately disappears. I haven’t felt like this since I was a human all those years ago.
I stare at the ceiling for a good while, assuming it’s daylight out since I don’t hear anyone roaming about the house. When I look down at my arms, I can no longer see the tendons, though the flesh hasn’t fully sealed up yet. But my chest where the blade went through burns more than anything.
I tentatively lift my hand and check my chest, but it looks better than the last time I saw it.
“Stop fussing with it. Why are you fussing with it?”
My eyes snap over to Atticus, who is leaning against the doorway staring at me. I hadn’t even realized he was here until he spoke up. “I wasn’t fussing with it.”
“I saw you jab your finger into it.”
“By accident,” I assure him.
He looks skeptical about that before walking over to my bed and gazing down at me.
I ask, “Where’s Gustov?”
“Johnny took him back to Casimir.”
“Hmm… Were you concerned about me?”
“Yes. Concerned that if you died I would suddenly have an influx of money since I wouldn’t have to keep supporting you.”
“You were worried about me.”
“Go to sleep. I like you best when you’re quiet and asleep,” he says before he leaves without another word. My eyes trail after him, and even after he’s long gone, I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his footsteps until they become too distant for me to hear.
I try to go back to sleep, but I feel like I’ve slept for days… which I might have.
Slowly, I push myself out of bed and make my way toward the door. I lean against the doorframe, exhausted and aching as I realize that I have only two options:
Go back to bed.
Or wander through that door.
I push off the doorframe and use the wall to make my way down the hall.
It’s awfully convenient they put me in a room so close to that door.
When I reach it, I twist the handle and find that it causes pain to shoot up my arm, but compared to yesterday, it’s better.
I step into the room and slowly grab a decorative pillow that’s sitting on a chair near the door.
I carry it with me while I carefully make my way over to the bed and look down at the sleeping man on it.
When his eyes and mouth are shut, he’s ridiculously handsome.
It’s the second he turns those narrowed eyes onto me and words start tumbling out of his mouth that I’m filled with irritation.
But right now, he looks so peaceful as I place the pillow over his head and push down.
“I’m a fucking vampire, you can’t suffocate me,” Atticus growls.
“It sounded so fun, though. I wanted to watch you flail and beg me.”
He grabs the pillow in one hand and my wrist in the other, making me grimace and remember that I really am quite hurt.
The pillow is flung across the room, and I’m surprised that I’m not as well.
I don’t know if he notices my wince, but he immediately loosens his grip and instead flips my hand over so he can examine my wounded arm.
His eyes snap up to mine in the darkness of the room. “If you wanted to kill me, why didn’t you sabotage the window?” he asks.
“That’d be too much work. You should pamper me. I’m hurt because of you. Pamper me. This bed is much larger than mine. I want this bed. Leave so I can have it.”
He scowls. “I will not leave my bed.”
“This bed will make me heal better and faster, so you should vacate it. Actually, why don’t you sleep in the chair? That way you’ll be at my beck and call. I want a bell to ring every time I need something. ‘Ring, ring, Atticus, my dearest, won’t you wash my feet?’”
“I should have dropped you off at your home and sent Johnny to check whether you were alive in a few years.”
“A few years? Does that mean I’m free to go? If so, then I will take my glorious leave. You can watch my beautiful backside as I do.”
“You’re going nowhere,” he growls, and it’s not a teasing growl, it’s an, “If you leave, I’m going to drag you back.”
How unfair when I’ve been such a good boy. I’ve only tried to sabotage him a small handful of times.
I move around to the other side of the bed and climb in.
“What’s your plan this time? Stab me?”
“I only want to snuggle.”
“Oh, bullshit. You act like I don’t know you.”
“I really hurt and I want someone to comfort me,” I say as I reach for him like I truly think he’s just going to roll into my arms or spoon me.
He’s staring at me like he’s allowed a serpent into his bed. I give him a grin and his eyes narrow even more.
“You are the most untrustworthy person I’ve ever met.”
“That’s impressive,” I say with a smile. “I almost feel like you’re flirting with me.”
Atticus laughs far too hard at that. He laughs until my glare pierces him, and then he gives me a look of pure amusement. “Go to sleep. I like you best when you’re sleeping and silent.”
“I feel absolutely rejuvenated just being in your presence. I’ve never felt like having a chat more than I do right now. I kind of want to have a slumber party at this point. We can talk about people we have crushes on and our future ambitions. It’s going to be so much fun.”
“You’re not going to irritate me into leaving this room.”
“How sure are you of that?” I ask. “I am a very determined man.”
“Positive.”
“This one time, back when I was human, I pissed in your shoes.”
“And this is supposed to surprise me? Disgust me? I’m used to your antics.”
I grin at him. “I just… Atticus, I can’t get enough of being around you.
Thank you for saving my life, even though it was one hundred percent your fault that those two assholes tracked me down and put me in that state.
I almost feel like you should be apologizing to me.
That would be fun. Do you think you’ve ever apologized to me? ”
“Yes. I apologized for turning you because I regret it every day.”
“You think about me every day? That makes my heart pitter-patter.”
“You want the bed all to yourself?”
“I do.”
“Fine. You can have it. There. Now we’re even.” Atticus throws back the covers and gets out.
“Definitely even. Being mauled and poisoned is definitely the same as giving up one’s bed,” I say as I watch him leave the room.
I listen while he heads up the stairs to the third floor. For about half an hour, I lie on the silk sheets, pleased with myself. I haven’t heard him move in well over twenty minutes, so I gingerly push out of bed and listen to see if I can hear either of the men.
Neither of them stir, so I move over to the desk and carefully slide the drawer open. I grab a set of keys and slip them into my pocket.
My hand stills on a letter and I slowly lift it as I see Morpheus’s name. The language isn’t one I can read, and I don’t have my phone to take a photo of it. Is Atticus in contact with Morpheus?
How odd. It’s been so long since I’ve heard from him…
I leave the drawer open and head to the door. Quietly, I step out. I wouldn’t be surprised if Atticus was well aware that I’m awake and moving about. But I don’t think he’ll find any reason for concern until he hears the rumble of his precious luxury car that he doesn’t even let Johnny drive.
What a shame that it’s too sunny out for him to chase after me. The car’s specially tinted windows will protect me from the sun, though I won’t be able to get out of the vehicle until I reach home. But by the time I get there, the sun will have gone down.
I climb into the car before the garage door goes up, and I back out into the second layer of protection he has so a simple garage door malfunction wouldn’t kill us.
I drive out the exit and fly down the driveway.
When I look back at the house, I see Atticus standing in the window and have to assume he’s infuriated.
Well, that’s what he gets for saving me only to tell me that.
The tires squeal when the car takes off, and I drive off into the sunlight protected only by a sheet of glass.
Honestly, it’s truly reckless. If the car were to get into an accident or the glass shattered, I’d have few options of where to go. But at this moment, I don’t care. Anything is better than being in that house where I was due to repay a favor once given to me.
Not yet…
I don’t want to do it yet.
My jaw tightens as my body aches, and I question if I can even stay awake long enough to get this car home.
I wake up when someone touches me.
“Yorick, hey, Yorick! Casimir, something is seriously wrong with him.”
Slowly, I open my eyes and look up at Julian’s concerned face.
“Where am I?” I whisper, pushing myself up and looking around. I discover that I’m still in Atticus’s car which I apparently drove into the side of my garage.
“Well, it was nice knowing you. I’m dead,” I say as I lie down, prepared for this car to be my coffin.
“The car has a minor dent,” Casimir says. “Stop being so dramatic.”
“Minor or major, it doesn’t matter. Death is coming for me. It could be a minuscule scratch, and death would be all that awaits me.”
“Why aren’t you healing? Isn’t that more pressing than the car?” Julian asks.
“I was poisoned. I’m fine. The car, however… will be my death. Just kill me now so he doesn’t have the satisfaction of ending my life.”
“Gladly,” Casimir says.
Julian smacks him back and helps me to my feet. “You look awful. Come on. Do you want to rest at home or do you want to come to our place?”
I perk up at the invite. “Yours is so much comfier. I will, for sure, heal faster there.”
“Casimir, help me get him in our car.”
I make sure to take the keys to Atticus’s car, in the hope that he doesn’t have a spare set which would allow him to take it home.
It’s the little things in life.
“What’s going on?” Casimir asks while Julian helps me into the back seat where Gustov is waiting, all cleaned up, and I remember that Atticus told me that Johnny had returned him to Casimir.
“Nothing.”
Casimir stares at me like I’m standing here with my head removed from my body.
“You can talk to us,” Julian says.
I shrug. “Some people wanted Atticus’s attention. When he refused to give it to them, they poisoned me, which allowed them to hurt me. Then they told Atticus to come get me, which he did… not because he cares about me, but because he wanted them to know that they can’t fuck with him.”
Julian shakes his head. “I’m sure it was because he cares about you. We both know that while he would never admit it out loud, he does care about you.”
“Ha. You should quit your rambling.”
“I’m not rambling! Why did you drive all the way here in this state?” Julian asks.
“Because being around Atticus makes my body hurt,” I say. “Don’t let him know I’m staying with you. Don’t let him know anything.”
I doze while they drive, and when we arrive, Julian must decide that I look miserable because he has Casimir carry me into the house.
It’s rather pleasant being in the man’s strong arms, and I do my best to feel like a prince as he does so.
Casimir looks like he’d rather dump me in a pile of his precious dog’s shit but does as he’s told.
I can feel his fingers twitch when he comes across a cardboard box he’s probably considering dropping me in.
“Do you want to sit on the couch or bed?” Julian asks me.
“Couch.”
“He really doesn’t need to be pampered like this,” Casimir says, clearly not enjoying this as much as I am.
Ignoring Casimir, Julian asks, “Do you need more blood?”
“No. I think if I drink any more, I might just pop. It’s the poison, not a lack of blood,” I assure him.
Once I’m on the couch, Julian tucks blankets around me and gets me a pillow. Then he sits next to me and finds a show for me to watch. Gustov even lies on my lap, and Casimir glowers at us while I pretend I don’t notice him, pleased as can be.
Julian looks over at me. “I need to run out. But Casimir will be here to care for you.”
I scowl at that. He’ll likely toss me to Atticus for my very own bloodletting, all because I lightly damaged his precious car.
Julian gets ready and then heads off, leaving me sitting on the couch.
“Are you going to say what’s really going on now that Julian is gone?” Casimir asks.
“I told you everything I know. I might have missed some of it, being unconscious and all.”
He’s watching me closely. “I heard some vampires have shown up dead.”
I stare back at him. “I see you know as well. How funny. I’m going to sleep.”
“No, I don’t know all of it. I only know the smallest bit.”
“I see,” I say before closing my eyes and deciding I will do my best to ignore him.