Seth
Friends with an almost absurd degree of sexual attraction, yes, but friends nonetheless.
That was what he was telling himself, at least, but the strength of his argument might have been sabotaged a little by the way he was cuddled so cozily into Riley’s chest on this massive armchair, slipping orange meltaways into Riley’s waiting mouth.
Riley didn’t answer, only finished chewing and swallowing his last cookie in a way that seemed decidedly pointed.
But Riley didn’t laugh.
“My moms told you,” Riley said instead, his tone almost petulant.
“They hinted. I figured it out.” Seth straightened his spine a little more.
“You’re not the first supernatural of my acquaintance, you know.
” Seth didn’t mention he hadn’t known his other acquaintances were supernatural until today.
There was no reason to reveal all his cards at once. “And how old are you really?”
Riley frowned at him. “Nineteen.”
Seth scoffed. “Riley.”
“What?”
“Don’t make me say it. It’s embarrassing.”
Riley’s frown deepened. “Say what?”
Oh God. Seth was gonna have to do it. Riley was forcing his hand. Seth steeled himself. “Riley. How long have you been nineteen?”
Riley looked no less confused, but he shrugged. “Like a few months? My birthday’s the end of October.”
Right. Well. Seth ignored the new warmth in his face. So Riley was still too young—that wasn’t the point of this conversation. “Were you born a vampire, then?”
“No. That’s not a thing.”
Seth gazed at him expectantly. Riley sighed, taking the empty Tupperware out of Seth’s hand and placing it on the attic floor. He tucked Seth closer to his chest, denying Seth his hard-won view of Riley’s face. “It’s a whole story. Are you sure you want to hear?”
Seth rolled his eyes. “Oh, well, if it’s a whole story,” he drawled. “Jesus, Riley, of course I want to hear.”
Riley ignored his sass. Instead, he tucked his chin over the top of Seth’s head, as if maybe he needed the extra comfort. “I was turned when I was a kid.”
Seth’s breath caught. Riley had been changed into a vampire when he was still a child? Seth couldn’t imagine. He really couldn’t. “Your…moms?” he asked.
“No,” Riley told him fiercely. “No. They would never. It was some drifter vampire, trying to give his estranged wife the so-called gift of a child. I wasn’t the first he took, but I was the most…successful.”
“What do you mean?” Seth asked, forcing the words through the new lump in his throat.
“It isn’t done, turning kids,” Riley explained.
“It just doesn’t…work well. We get too hungry and rampage, have to be put down to keep the secrecy.
Or we won’t feed right and starve, which usually also ends in a rampage.
And there’s, like, a presence, when you’re turned.
The vampire part waking up or something.
And from what I know, you’re usually pretty entwined.
But me and my voice, we’re…separate. We’re all wrong. Abnormal.”
Seth thought of the presence he’d seen, looking into Riley’s black eyes. The Not-Riley of it all. He hadn’t been sure if he’d been correct in categorizing it as some separate entity, but apparently he’d been spot-on.
His chest ached. Poor Riley.
“I ran from him, the vampire who turned me,” Riley told him.
“Twice. The first time… Well, he got me back eventually, and then the second time, other vampires found me. They took me in before I could hurt anyone and fed me blood bags, called two vampire women they knew who wanted kids of their own. My moms adopted me, and we moved here, where there are lots of elk and not too many people. I can feed on animals and humans. Most vampires can’t. My moms kept me full. Kept me safe.”
Riley told Seth more then. About being stuck here in this house, in these woods, for the remainder of his childhood, afraid to so much as spot a human.
About growth spurts where he’d felt like a monster, so hungry he was afraid he’d eat the world.
About his first trips into town this past year, the thrill and the fear and the hope that he might be able to act somewhat normal.
There was so much to take in, so much to feel. The life Riley had lived. Taken from his family. Taken from his humanity.
“So you actually wanted to eat me that first night,” Seth eventually joked, because everything else felt too big to say out loud. “Like I was some sort of…strawberry tart.”
“Orange cake,” Riley corrected.
He really seemed to have a thing for orange.
“I met your vampire,” Seth told him. “Just now.”
“I know.” Riley didn’t sound happy about it.
“Were you there? Watching from inside?”
“Not really. That’s part of what’s wrong with me, I guess.
When I change…it takes over. Sometimes I have flashes of awareness.
Sometimes I can’t remember at all. It’s not supposed to be that way.
” Riley’s voice roughened. “And it’s not fair, because I can hear it when I’m me.
It’s always here. I’ve spent my whole life since the day I turned trying to live with it, its hunger and its rage.
It’s not the sort of presence that should be in a child’s mind.
It—it changed me. Ruined me. I don’t know who I am without it anymore, and sometimes I hate that so much it burns me up from the inside out. ”
There was so much anger in his words. A deep, unrelenting bitterness. And it broke Seth’s heart because he didn’t think Riley was a bitter person by nature.
But maybe no one was. Maybe people simply reached the limit of what they could tolerate from what life gave them. Maybe Riley had reached his limit a long time ago.
“I don’t know who you are without it either,” Seth said softly. Carefully. “But I know who you are now. And I like that person a lot.”
The words felt insufficient, but there were…things happening inside Seth, and he didn’t know how to say anything better. His fondness for Riley and their magnetic attraction and this new way of seeing him were all melting together into something dangerous.
Seth was in awe of Riley’s strength. His endurance.
No matter what Riley thought about himself being monstrous, the fact that he was still so much a person after everything that had happened to him—the kind of person that sat in Seth’s bakery and told him bits of stories to make him laugh, who stared like a kid with a crush and flirted terribly and spoke so carefully…
It was a testament to Riley’s humanity, to the boy inside him he’d maintained against all odds. Seth wished Riley could see it that way.
Riley held Seth tighter. “God, Seth, I—” He let out a harsh breath. “Thank you for saying that.”
Seth had to ask, no matter how painful the answer. “When you find your, um, mate, do you think that would help you and your…voice? Aren’t mates supposed to, like, ground you?”
It was strange, the way Riley went so very still beneath Seth. There was a long pause before he spoke. Seth wished he could see his face.
“Someone told you about mates?”
“Yes.”
“Did they tell you it’s not just finding a mate?” Riley asked, an odd note to his voice. Maybe this was a touchy subject for vampires. Maybe Seth should have kept his mouth shut. “They have to be turned for the bond to take place.”
“Oh.” Seth let out an awkward laugh. “No, they didn’t. Still…shouldn’t you be looking for them, maybe?” Oops. So much for keeping his mouth shut. “Or…is that not how it works?”
Riley was silent for a long time, his soft puffs of breath rustling Seth’s curls.
“Seth,” he said eventually, his tone so even it was unreadable.
“Yes?”
“I’ve found my mate already.”
“Oh.” Seth didn’t know how to catalog the ache that stabbed in his chest. Maybe it was sympathy heartburn for all the cookies Riley had eaten. “In—in town? Who?”
He waited, but Riley didn’t answer except to let out a strange, huffing laugh.
Then he released his hold on Seth, his hands drifting to rest gently on Seth’s hips.
He leaned back, allowing Seth to meet his gaze.
And there was a…look there, in those dark eyes.
Like Seth was being dense. Like Seth was…
Oh. Oh.
Seth fought the strange urge to break into hysterical laughter. He wasn’t— No. No, no, no. He swallowed. Coughed. Swallowed again. “But how—how do you know?”
“I know.”
The way Riley said it was so definite. Like there was no room for argument or doubt.
But there had to be room for doubt because Seth doubted. Seth doubted very, very much.
Jesus. His palms had gone sweaty in an instant. When had the attic gotten so sweltering? They should put a fan in here. Two fans. Twenty fans.
Seth scrambled to his feet, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants as he backed away from the armchair. “Well, I should get going,” he said brightly. Possibly too brightly. His tone might have been bordering on unhinged. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay. And I have. And that’s great. So I’ll just—”
“Seth.”
Seth grabbed his tote bag off the floor, almost falling on his face before he righted himself. “I go to bed really early every night, you know. And it’s already dark out. I’m miserable without sleep. You have no idea. Why would you? We’ve never slept together.”
Riley was starting to rise from the chair, each movement abnormally slow and exaggerated, like Seth was some wild animal he was trying not to startle. But Seth had already made his way to the ladder, and before Riley could take a step, he was scurrying down it faster than was probably wise.
He knew this wasn’t his best moment, even as it was happening. Panicked retreat was never a good look. But Seth’s brain was rioting. Rioting.
It was just…too much. He’d just found out vampires existed, for fuck’s sake. And now he was destined to be one? To be mated to one? According to some hot nineteen-year-old semirecluse?
Too much. Too. Much.