Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Killien
Damien is acting weird. Ever since I fed from Owen, he’s been irritated. He crawls into my bed every single night, wrapping his arms around me and resting his head on my neck. But he does so with a frown on his pretty face. It’s like he’s hot and cold.
Three weeks have passed, and nothing changes.
The air between us seems to crackle when we’re close.
I feel Damien’s pull on my soul each time his skin brushes against mine.
But sometimes, he just pushes me away. He gets angry when I talk to Owen or meet up with him, and I can’t help but think that he’s jealous.
Which only drags me further down into the abyss of feelings I shouldn’t be having.
Sneaking out to see Caleb is getting harder with each passing day, because Damien seems to want to follow me everywhere.
I can’t find a moment to unleash my fantasies and cool down.
Unless I lock myself in the bathroom and touch myself, thinking shamelessly about him—which I’ve been trying not to do.
I don’t know why, but it feels much worse than my fantasies with Caleb.
What choice do I have, anyway? If I can’t let it out with Caleb, I have to do it on my own.
If I don’t, I’m afraid I might do something to Damien.
That thought alone makes my blood run cold. I’m closer than ever to fucking up. Every time I look at him, I feel something dark and dangerous crawling up my throat. The hardest part of it all, is that I want to lose control. I crave it.
Sometimes, I think that Damien would accept it. Hell, I might even think he’s encouraging it. But it has to be my mind playing tricks on me, right?
He’d be horrified, for fuck’s sake. I’m his brother, and he has a boyfriend, anyway.
Still . . . He’s being weird with Jacob too. Damien hasn’t slept in his apartment in more than a week, and that’s a lot for how close they’ve become. Now, he seems to be avoiding his boyfriend even more than he’s avoiding me.
Part of me loves that. The evil part, I guess. The one that wants me to cut the chains that keep me from deviating from my path.
I sigh as I stare at him, curled up on the grey sofa, staring at the TV while he pulls on the loose threads of the fabric mindlessly, almost like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.
Why do we still watch the news? It’s pointless, since it’s been long enough and no one’s talking about my little murder spree anymore.
It feels like it was ages ago, somehow. I’m a completely different person now.
I stare at his pretty profile, at the way he turns one of his lip rings with his tongue, and imagine what kissing him would be like. Nothing has ever felt more enticing than him, and the longer this goes on, the more it feels just right. Like he’s exactly who I should be wanting.
The veil of human society’s morality seems to have slipped away. It no longer matters that we were raised as brothers. We’re not related in any way, other than how we were forced together by destiny. We’ve been stuck to one another since forever. I don’t even remember life without him.
Honestly, I don’t want to know what that’s like either. And, also . . . I’m starting to think that, even if we were related, I wouldn’t care. I’d still want him, love him, and burn for him all the same.
I’m really fucked-up. Like, seriously fucking fucked.
Damien turns to look at me, almost as if he can finally feel me staring at his face. His expression is dark and kind of empty. It breaks my heart, and all I want to do is dive into his mouth and throw all caution to the wind.
“What’s wrong, Killi?” he asks softly, but his voice is devoid of all emotion. It has been like that for the past days.
I shake my head. “Nothing. You just—you look kinda tired.”
Damien laughs darkly, throwing his head back against the battered headrest. “I’m tired, yeah. Tired of holding on to my sanity by a single thread.”
Fuck. Me too.
I don’t even know what he’s talking about, but I can tell he’s being honest. Whatever is going through his devilish mind must be weighing him down. Should I ask? Do I want to know?
Sometimes, I wish that his problem was feeling the same way I do. I really wish that was it, because it would be fixed in an instant. I’d cross the line if he showed a clear sign of wanting me. I might have no fucks left to give.
Before I can say anything, my phone rings and I’m startled. I stare at Owen’s name on the screen for a while, not really wanting to pick up. Damien’s eyes stay on my face as I answer the call reluctantly.
“Hi, Owen.”
“Are you avoiding me, Killien?” Owen’s voice sounds playful, and it makes my stomach turn. I actually have been avoiding him a bit. Well—more than just a bit. He’s right.
“No, why?” I lie.
Owen laughs on the other side of the line. “I miss the taste of your blood, you know?”
Shit, I miss his blood too. It’s the only thing I miss about him.
I swallow hard, feeling my mouth water. I’ve been meeting up with him once a week just because he’s become my only source of vampire blood.
I don’t think we’re compatible at all, although he keeps insisting that we give it time and tries to take it a step further each time.
But his blood makes me stronger, and I need it.
I’d rather drink from Jacob or Damien, but I know that’s off limits.
“Why don’t you come over?” Owen insists. It sounds like a purr and I hate it.
“Okay.”
Fuck. What else am I gonna do? I have to feed.
Damien rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the TV. It’s hard not to interpret his gesture as pure jealousy. It makes my heart beat faster.
“See you in half an hour,” Owen says, before hanging up.
I stare at my brother’s beautiful features while his eyes dart around the room.
From the TV, to the window next to it, to a stain on the wall, to the front door.
Anywhere but me. He does look to be raging with jealousy, what else could it be?
I need to blow off some steam before I burst. Maybe I’ll stop by Caleb’s after feeding from Owen.
“Will you drop me at Jacob’s shop?” he asks, still avoiding my eyes.
“Yeah, sure.” I nod, resisting the urge to grab his chin and force him to look at me with those deep blue eyes that have me absolutely mesmerized.
Damien pushes himself off the sofa and walks into our bedroom.
I hear him going through the closet and changing.
My mind derails into images of him taking off his clothes, his lean body glistening under the sunlight that comes through the bedroom window at this time of day.
The soft curves of his abs flexing when he bends, his dark brown curls covering his eyes.
I’m getting hard. This shit keeps happening to me all the time, and it’s becoming unbearable.
“I’ll wait for you in the car,” I say as I grab the keys of our Grand Cherokee and storm through the front door.
Fucking hell.
Damien is wearing the worst thing he could have possibly picked from his extensive wardrobe.
A pair of black jeans that he bought recently, a very particular one.
It’s silly, and pointless, but it looks great.
Both sides of the jean’s waistline are open, replaced by a few silver chains, showing off the sides of his slender body.
They look uncomfortable, especially when he sits down and the chains dig into his skin.
But damn, he looks hot in them. The motherfucker chose to pair it with a short black tank top, showing off the waist of his jeans perfectly.
He’ll have so many eyes on him, for fuck’s sake.
Jacob is probably gonna do to him all the things I can’t.
That thought alone makes my blood boil. My knuckles turn white as I squeeze the steering wheel.
I can tell I’m frowning, but it can’t be helped.
Forcing my eyes to stay on the traffic, I drive towards Jacob’s tattoo shop.
Damien seems to be absent, staring through the window.
He still looks tired, pissed, and sad as fuck.
I don’t know what to do about it anymore.
“Will you pick me up after you’re done with Owen?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
“Um . . . yes,” I hesitate. Why would he want to leave so soon? I thought he’d be staying with Jacob at least until tomorrow, since he even dressed up. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah—I just wanna go back home with you, Killi.” His blue eyes finally search for mine. When he calls me that, my heart seems to burst into flames and spread soft tickles throughout me.
I chuckle, unable to stop myself from smiling. “Me too, honestly.”
Why did I say that?
I clear my throat. “I—I have to feed, you know? But I won’t take long.”
Damien opens his mouth, as if he’s going to say something, but holds it back.
I hate it when he does that, and it’s happening way too often for my liking.
I just don’t know what the hell is going through his little devious mind.
Why did he dress up for Jacob if he doesn’t want to stay long? Why didn’t he just stay home?
Are you doing this to torture me, baby?
I immediately shake that thought away. He’s not seducing me, for fuck’s sake.
Though looking at him in that outfit definitely counts as torture.
His waist seems tiny, highlighted by the short tank top and the open sides of his jeans.
He even put on a pair of combat boots. A proper alternative outfit, the kind he used to wear to go hunting for boyfriends and sugar daddies when we were still human.
I always thought of him as a hunter of sorts, luring in whoever he wants and then sinking his teeth into them. He’s very good at that, for sure.
If only he wanted me . . .
I shake my head once more, already feeling my mind spiral out of control. A long sigh escapes my lips as I force myself to focus on the road ahead. I don’t know for how much longer I can keep it together. I feel like I’m going to collapse at any second.
As I approach the corner of Jacob’s shop, Damien places a hand on my knee. “You can leave me here, Killi,” he says. “I’ll walk half a block, and you can keep going ahead to Owen’s.”
I stare at his hand for a second and then at his face. “Okay . . .”
He looks like an angel in that outfit. Or a devil. Fuck, he just looks hot as hell. And his warm hand stays on my knee until I stop the car and he has to step out. He waves at me with a glowing smile on his lips as he closes the door.
I stare at him in awe. Absolutely entranced by his beautiful eyes, almost completely hidden behind dark brown locks of curly hair.
His pale skin glistens under the late afternoon sun.
I want to pull him back into the car, I don’t want him to go.
But he turns on his heels and walks away slowly.
Those goddamn jeans hug his ass almost indecently, and his exposed waist looks delicious as the chains cling against his skin.
Fuckfuckfuck! I’m losing my mind!
I force my eyes back to the road, away from my brother’s enticing silhouette.
The longer I stare at him, the less I want to go to Owen.
But I have to. I’m hungry. I need blood.
And I definitely will have to stop at Caleb’s after, because there’s no way I can hold back if I see Damien in that outfit again.
As I drive away, I can’t help but wonder if I can even survive the game I’m playing. It’s far too dangerous. And I can’t seem to keep myself from deviating from the path of the good older brother I’m supposed to follow.