Riley
Snob. Rude-ass snob.
“Are you always this childish?”
“Cautious,” Wolfe countered. He set his glass down, tapping neat, blunt fingernails on the dining room table. “I knew you’d be trouble.”
He looked around the table helplessly. “How would they even know about me?”
Mama Daphne spoke up, her tone gentle as could be. “There’s one human witness who wasn’t ever compelled to secrecy.”
Immediately, Riley knew who she was referring to. His eyes burned. “My mo— My, um, human mom?”
It had taken almost a full year for Riley to tell Mama Sybil and Mama Daphne what had happened between him and his mother—the bite and the terror and the anger—but eventually he’d let them know, afraid if he’d kept it to himself any longer the aching wound inside of him would fester.
And he’d been young, and still so scared, and he’d wanted a little comfort.
Like Seth, they’d reassured him that he hadn’t been at fault, that his mother couldn’t have been expected to know how to manage his transformation. But the memory was still painful, and now it had come back to haunt him in a whole new way.
“It’s possible she told the authorities about what happened on your return.” Mama Daphne placed her hand over his, squeezing gently. “It would have been in an effort to find you, darling. No doubt she regretted very deeply driving you away.”
Riley swallowed hard, willing his eyes to stay dry. He wouldn’t cry in front of Wolfe. He wouldn’t.
He wished Seth were here. If Seth were with them, there would be something delicious on the table to go with Wolfe’s snobby wine, and he’d be right there, on Riley’s other side, giving him strength without even trying. He wouldn’t put up with any of Wolfe’s little digs either.
Tomorrow, Riley reminded himself and his voice both. We’ll see him tomorrow.
“What are we supposed to do, then?” Riley asked. “Knock on their door and ask if they’re planning to do any evil research on innocent vampire children, current or former?”
Wolfe shrugged one shoulder. “If needs must. In the meantime, a bit of casual reconnaissance.” He narrowed his eyes at Riley as he toyed with the stem of his wineglass. “You’re aware that if you’d turned your mate already, we’d have one more ally in the area.”
Riley stiffened. He knew he was being baited—they had an entire den in Colorado at their disposal, if Wolfe really needed it—but he couldn’t help his reaction. “Seth doesn’t need to be a vampire to be an ally.”
“To be a useful one, surely.”
A low growl left Riley’s throat, and Eric spoke up quickly. “Hey, Riles, have you gotten any comics from Colin recently? I’d love to see them.”
Wolfe tutted, sliding a look at his mate that was so hotly possessive it made Riley want to gag. “Tenderhearted,” Wolfe murmured fondly.
Eric shrugged, although there was a new flush on his cheeks. “Colin’s art is cool, and he hardly ever shares.”
It was blatant misdirection, and Eric wasn’t even pretending to be subtle. But it was also an olive branch to get Riley out of the room, so he took it. He nodded to Eric, and they left the table and went upstairs to Riley’s room.
“Your mate’s a pain in the ass,” Riley told him as soon as they were inside.
“Yeah,” Eric agreed easily. “But he wants us all to be safe.”
“He wants you and him to be safe,” Riley corrected before heading over to his bookcase and pulling out Colin’s latest comic.
“For him and me to be safe, everyone has to be. So it works out.” Eric grinned down at the cover of the comic Riley had handed him, which had a fictionalized and much cooler version of vampire Riley on it, all black eyes and bulging black veins.
One day—whenever he finally decided to release them to the public—Colin was going to be famous for those things.
Riley collapsed back onto his bed, holding himself up with his elbows. He let Eric rifle through the first few pages before he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why’d you forgive him so easily? I’ve heard the story of how you were turned.”
If Eric was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. He didn’t even glance up from the comic. “Because I needed him.”
Riley thought of Seth, bright and charming and open with everyone. He thought of Seth’s full life, how he’d already made a place for himself inside their insular little town within a month. He sighed. “I don’t think Seth needs me.”
Eric made a vague, noncommittal noise. “You might be surprised. I was a successful doctor and reputed man-whore. No one would have thought I needed someone like Wolfe. But I did.” He ran a finger over the panels of the comic with a distant look in his eye. “I really, really did.”
“And he needed you back?” Riley asked. He knew it was true—he saw the way Wolfe looked at Eric, the rare and out-of-character affection he gave his mate—but it was still hard to fathom Wolfe really needing somebody.
Eric laughed. He had a good laugh, actually, bright and hearty. He was a little less blandly handsome when he laughed. Riley could almost see the appeal.
“Oh yeah,” Eric said on the end of a chuckle. “He’d be full psycho without me.” He finally tore his attention from the comic to give Riley a look. “Want can be a kind of need, you know, if it’s strong enough. You don’t have to be saving him from misery for him to love you.”
Riley shrugged and rolled onto his belly, resting his chin on folded arms. He wasn’t sure about that, really. Being a vampire’s mate came with a lot of baggage—it was kind of lose-lose in a lot of ways, wasn’t it? Saving someone from abject misery would at least be a concession prize.
Technically, Riley had his driver’s license.
They hadn’t compelled anyone to give it to him either.
He’d passed the written and the practical, even though he’d been terrified to sit in an enclosed car with a human that long.
He’d been afraid he was going to cut the test short by draining his instructor.
But he hadn’t, and now he could legally drive and everything.
He still preferred to go by foot.
Going by foot meant going through the forest, deeper than where the road could reach. And the forest meant familiarity. It was soothing.
And Riley needed a bit of soothing.
Eric and Wolfe were apparently staying at the house in the non-Seth guest bedroom because, to quote Wolfe, “This tragic display of coastal decline possesses no hotels of any caliber.”
There had been more discussion of the mysterious institute last night, but all of it had been speculative and pretty pointless, in Riley’s opinion. It had all had major “this meeting could have been an email” energy.
Seth had taught Riley that one.
Seth, who hadn’t answered Riley’s text. Was he annoyed that Riley hadn’t come back right away? That would actually be kind of gratifying. Annoyance would imply he’d wanted Riley to return quickly—that maybe Seth had missed him, even if it was only for the night.
Riley had certainly missed Seth. He could even almost smell Seth’s sweet orange scent out here in the woods, taunting Riley with the night they’d lost to Wolfe and his paranoia.
So maybe Seth was frustrated with Riley for flaking, or maybe he just wasn’t a big texter. Riley knew Seth made phone calls to the people back home, but overall, he wasn’t on his phone as much as some modern humans seemed to be.
But that was fine. Riley knew where to find him. That was the benefit of his boyfriend owning his own business.
It was past opening, so Riley wasn’t going to get alone time with Seth in the kitchen.
Which meant he wasn’t going to get to live out the new fantasy he had of pushing Seth back against those chrome counters and dropping to his knees, maybe even managing to get Seth’s cock all the way inside his mouth this time.
Maybe all the way to the back of his throat.
Mmm.
But it was too late for that, so Riley would be a good boy and sit at his table with his book while Seth spread sunshine to all his customers indiscriminately.
Riley had his backpack with some spare clothes too, so he wouldn’t be booted out right away either.
No doubt Wolfe would be a pest and call Riley back at some point, but Riley would take all the time he could get before then.
Riley skipped the bakery’s back door—Seth kept it locked when he was up front—and headed around to the main street. He frowned as he approached. There weren’t any lights on inside.
It was dark. Closed.
But it wasn’t a Monday. And Seth was never late opening the bakery. Never ever.
Riley glared at the other figure lurking beside the front door. “Where is he?”
Violet didn’t even flinch at the dark growl in his voice.
She remained leaning against the wall in her black peacoat, arms crossed.
“He didn’t show up this morning. I thought maybe he’d been taken hostage again.
” She gave Riley a cool once-over. “But if you’re looking for him too, I guess that theory is out. ”
Riley didn’t know how she knew where Seth had gone the last time the bakery had been unexpectedly closed, and he didn’t fucking care. He turned on his heel. “His house, then.”
“I checked there when he didn’t show,” Violet called from behind him, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to face her and saw for the first time the furrow of concern on her brow. “I thought maybe he’d gotten sick for real. His car was there, but he didn’t answer, and I was loud. Really loud.”
Riley would check, of course. He wouldn’t trust some random teenager’s word, new employee or not. But a creeping sensation of dread was already building, crawling along his spine.
If Violet was to be believed, then Seth was missing.
Missing while some devious institution had everyone’s hackles up. Missing at the same time Wolfe had shown up at Riley’s door, bitching about abnormal vampires and unwanted attention. Missing right when Riley had come to depend on him, and on the future they might have.
Seth was Riley’s. Fate had said so, and Riley had accepted that decision without a drop of hesitation. But fate could also be cruel, Riley knew. Tricky.
Riley had heard enough stories to know that the path to becoming mates wasn’t always a smooth one.
People got hurt. Seth could get hurt.
And if he got hurt—if he got so much as a scratch on his lovely skin—it would be because of Riley. Because he wasn’t smart enough, strong enough, whole enough to protect Seth the way he deserved.
Riley didn’t feel the change coming on. He didn’t lose himself to it either. He didn’t retreat for even a second to that vague, nothing place at the back of his mind.
No. For the first time in his life, Riley could feel the voice at the front of his mind with him. Not pushing him back. Not taking over. Standing beside him, ready to do whatever needed to be done.
Find. Our. Mate, it growled.
Yes, Riley agreed.
He was only vaguely aware of Violet in the background, her low, awed chuckle. “Holy fucking shit,” she whispered. “This is so much better than serial killers.”