Chapter 7 Riley
RILEY
Riley found his moms on the covered porch at the back of the house, curled up together on the couch, looking at something on one of their phones.
“He thinks I’m too young!” Riley called out as soon as he’d burst through the door.
He knew that, once again, he sounded like nothing more than a frustrated child, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to vent, and there was no one else to vent to.
His moms had already been supporting him in his quest for Seth’s…friendship. Mostly they’d taken over the practical matters, which all centered around not letting Riley get too hungry.
They’d stocked up on blood bags from neighboring cities—Pine Bluff’s urgent care was too small to pilfer from too often, and the town didn’t have a hospital of its own—and they’d been reminding Riley to go hunting more often than usual.
Most vampires, once they’d adjusted to the change, needed to feed only about once a week.
They didn’t need to take all that much blood either—their kind didn’t have to kill to feed.
But even though Riley was more or less fully grown now, he still usually had to feed two or three times a week.
It was a vast improvement from when he’d been a growing kid and had needed to feed every day, sometimes more than once a day.
The only thing that had stopped Riley from creating a national blood supply shortage during his childhood was that he, unlike most vampires, could feed from animals. And elk were plentiful in these parts.
But now Riley’s moms had been stuffing him full of blood in the hopes that it would help him remain calm around his future mate.
After the events of today, Riley couldn’t say for sure if they’d been successful.
He could still feel the press of Seth’s soft lips against his own like a phantom touch.
Could still hear the echo of Seth’s quiet, gasping moan when Riley had ground down against him.
Could still smell the scent of orange cake growing sweeter and richer around him until Riley could practically taste it on his tongue.
“He likes me,” Riley said in a much calmer voice as he approached the couch, speaking to himself more than his moms now. “I know he does. But he thinks I’m too young to act on it.”
And maybe immediately running to his moms about it was proving the point, but Riley didn’t exactly have anyone else to talk to.
Mama Daphne clapped her hands, like Riley had said something wonderful. “Oh, he’s a gentleman! Well, that’s lovely.”
“It’s frustrating,” Riley countered, rubbing a hand over his mouth in an effort to wipe away the phantom touch and stop dwelling on that perfect fucking kiss.
Instead of offering reassurance, Mama Sybil gave Riley a devious sort of smile, holding up her phone. “Cheer up, sweetheart. We have a surprise for you.”
Riley reached for the phone without looking. “Is it Jay?” he asked hopefully.
Jay was the nicest of his mothers’ vampire associates and the most likely to listen willingly to Riley wax poetic about beautiful bakers and their delicious scents. Plus, Jay had always claimed his stoic, mobster mate smelled like vanilla cupcakes, so…common ground.
Mama Sybil cocked a brow. “Even better.”
Riley looked down at the phone and scowled at what he found. “Hello, Wolfe,” he greeted grudgingly.
The face staring back at him remained impassive, with its thin lips and perfectly coiffed hair. Riley could only see from the neck up, but he already knew its owner was wearing a ridiculously garish suit to top it all off.
“If it isn’t young Riley,” Wolfe drawled, amusement lacing his tone. “Covered in dirt. And…is that purple eye shadow?”
Riley was only covered in dirt because the voice inside him had been furious they’d left their mate back at his home instead of throwing him over their shoulder and retreating to their lair with him forevermore. Hunting little innocent woodland creatures had helped calm the asshole down.
Riley made a face at his moms—Really, you’re going to make me talk to him?—but they only smiled beatifically back at him.
Ugh. Wolfgang.
He was a vampire Riley’s moms had turned years and years ago, at the psychopath’s own request. He was a cold, unfeeling asshole except when it came to his human mate, Eric, who was actually pretty decent as far as middle-aged dudes went.
Eric was also the one who’d caught Riley when he’d been a scared child running from his vampire maker, terrified of getting captured again and equally afraid to get close to any humans.
And then it had been Wolfe who’d brought Riley’s moms in to adopt him, and together they’d all given Riley a fighting chance at survival.
So Riley should probably be grateful to Wolfe for saving his life or whatever, but it was hard to overcome the instinctual annoyance, especially since Riley’s moms liked to tease that they were brothers.
They were not brothers.
“Your mothers have been apprising me of the situation,” Wolfe told him.
Riley’s scowl only deepened. If his moms were contacting Wolfe for backup, that meant they were worried Riley was going to lose control.
“If you do drain him dry,” Wolfe continued, his tone almost conversational now, “make sure you’re somewhere private. Secure.”
Riley flung himself onto the couch on the opposite corner from his moms, giving Wolfe his harshest glare. “I’m not going to drain him. Just because you lost control when you found your mate doesn’t mean I’m going to do the same.”
“I didn’t lose control,” Wolfe countered coolly. “Eric simply happens to be immensely irresistible.”
Um, no, he wasn’t. Eric was just a normal, decent-looking dude. Plus, he was like, forty or something.
“Where is Eric?” Riley asked, narrowing his eyes. “I’d rather be talking to him.”
Wolfe pursed his lips. “Otherwise occupied.” He cocked his head, his gaze darting every which way like he was trying to read something on Riley’s face.
Riley went carefully blank, refusing to give anything away. Wolfe would have to make do with admiring Riley’s awesome makeover.
“You’ve been given a gift from fate,” Wolfe said after a long moment. “A person of your own, someone to covet and care for. Is your human correct in his assessment? Are you too young to manage it?”
Riley resisted the urge to crack the phone in his hands, but it was a close call. “I’m not.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
Riley had reached his limit. He hung up the call, tossing the phone onto the couch cushion. If his moms really wanted to talk to this jerk, they could call him back after Riley left.
When he looked over to the women in question, both their faces were the picture of concerned sympathy. Riley let out a sigh and closed his eyes before thunking his head against the back of the couch. “He wants to be friends. Seth does.”
“Well, those are great strides,” Mama Daphne said, and Riley could picture her encouraging smile. “Only a few weeks ago, you were strangers.”
Riley wrinkled his nose. It didn’t feel like great strides. It felt like a roadblock.
“How old is he, anyway?” Mama Sybil asked.
“Twenty-six.”
“Psh,” she scoffed. “A pittance of an age difference. He’ll be over it in no time.”
“I thought he was younger, anyway,” Mama Daphne said brightly. “He doesn’t look a day over twenty-two.”
Riley whipped his head off the couch in an instant, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes in accusation. “When did you see him?”
“Hm?” Mama Daphne gave him her most innocent look, waving a hand in the air. “Oh, just driving through town, I believe. In passing. So brief.”
She and Mama Sybil exchanged a look. Mama Sybil patted Riley’s hand. “All will be well, darling. We’ll make sure of it, won’t we?”
Riley only wished he felt more encouraged. But the phone call with Wolfe was more revealing than any empty words his mothers could give him.
No one had any faith in Riley, did they? And Riley couldn’t even say he blamed them.
He didn’t have much faith in himself these days.
Riley climbed the pull-down steps to the attic, eager to take refuge in his hideout that wasn’t really a hideout at all.
He had his own bedroom, of course—the house was big enough for him to have two, if he really wanted—but this was where he went when he needed his moms to know he preferred to be alone.
He and Mama Daphne had cleaned and decorated the space not long after they’d first arrived, when his moms had realized Riley had a tendency to run and hide when he was feeling overwhelmed.
He’d been going through a growth spurt at the time, and he’d eaten all the blood bags in the house, as well as all the members of the local rat community.
He’d been ashamed, and he’d hidden alone in the bare, filthy attic until Mama Daphne had come for him.
It wasn’t filthy or bare anymore, not after Mama Daphne had finished with it.
There were strings of fairy lights hanging from the angled ceiling, which was just tall enough to walk underneath without hunching.
And by the little square window that looked out onto the forest below, there was a cozy armchair, a basket of blankets, and two small bookcases full of favorite books.
Riley didn’t feel quite the same shame that had once driven him here either.
He was old enough now to know it had all been beyond his control, even if sometimes that was hard to remember.
He’d been young and hungry—so, so hungry—and the fact that he hadn’t killed any humans yet was honestly a miracle.
Mostly that miracle had been achieved by avoidance.
Riley hadn’t been allowed to leave the woods surrounding the property until he’d turned eighteen.
The closest he’d come to a mishap was when he’d been out hunting elk and stumbled upon a young woman lost in the woods.
It had taken everything in him to leave without feeding, even knowing he wouldn’t have been able to stop in time to save her from himself.