Chapter 7 #2
“Thank you,” Rafe murmured as Philippe reached for the towel to dry him.
Philippe chuckled, though the sound came out somewhat shaky. “I feel like I should be thanking you.”
“I’m sure you have your pick of sexy creatures begging to visit your bed each night,” Rafe teased, and Philippe kept his mouth shut.
He’d had his share of partners over the years, but they had grown few and far between in the last couple of decades.
Rafe was the first to truly tempt him in more years than he wanted to consider.
Wrapping the washcloth in the towel, he set them aside and helped Rafe into his shirt. It was a shame to cover up that beauty, but it was easier for Philippe to complete a coherent thought if Rafe was fully dressed.
Philippe stepped back and looked up at Rafe. “Your color is better now. Shall we send a picture to your brother to reassure him that you’re still in one piece?”
Rafe’s grin was laced with surprise, but he nodded as he pulled out his phone. “Do you mind?”
Philippe accepted the unlocked phone and pulled up the camera app while Rafe grabbed his nearly empty glass.
He posed, partially leaning on the bar with the glass in hand.
There was a wicked smirk on his lips that just seemed to embody his overall attitude.
Philippe snapped a couple of pictures and handed the phone to Rafe, allowing him to text his brother the critical proof of his good health.
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Rafe to send him a copy as well.
But he was letting his mind get muddy when it came to Rafe. It was best if they focused on why he was working with Rafe in the first place. Of course, that meant having a somewhat uncomfortable conversation.
“Earlier, you brought up an interesting point. Piper has no one I know of in her life that would specifically attack her,” Philippe said as he walked around the bar and into the living room.
“So now we have the dilemma of who was shooting at us and who took your little lamb. Right now, I’m inclined to say they are one and the same person.”
Philippe looked up to find that Rafe had followed him. His movements were easier, smoother than they had been. The wounds were mostly healed, and he was nearly back to being his usual devilish self. Half the furniture in the room separated them, and Philippe wasn’t sure if it was enough.
Clearing his throat, Philippe shoved his hands into his pockets.
“It could be an enemy of mine or the clan to commit both acts, but I’ll admit that I’m not sure as to who that could be.
The Arsenaults keep a low profile. We don’t attract the attention of others.
I’m not sure who would wish me or mine harm. ”
“Why does it feel like you have another suggestion in mind but don’t want to share it?”
Philippe glanced up at Rafe to find him smiling, and some of the tension in his shoulders eased.
“What if the shooter was not an enemy of the Arsenaults?” Philippe said cautiously.
Rafe lifted one eyebrow at him, but his smile didn’t waver. “The shooter was an enemy of the Variks.” Rafe paused and gave a small nod of his head. “I was the only one hit. It could be just an unlucky coincidence that you were with me.”
“Jullien did mention that you had trouble with that one human group?”
Rafe lost his smile. “The Humans Protecting Humans League,” he muttered under his breath.
There weren’t many humans who knew or believed in vampires, but the Humans Protecting Humans League saw themselves as the guardians of humanity.
Philippe had managed to steer clear of them over the decades, but the Variks hadn’t been so lucky.
Particularly when it was revealed that the Black Wolf clan had manipulated and used the League as its own squad of hit men.
“Maybe we were wrong. Maybe there wasn’t a vampire hunting us tonight. It could have been someone from the League. Humans are far more prone to using guns than vampires.”
“True,” Rafe murmured. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped out something quickly. “I’m texting Winter about the League. He keeps a close eye on these things. He might know if we’re still a target or even if they’re active in Hartford.”
Philippe watched Rafe’s expression as he sent a message to his brother. He was willing to guess that Winter or one of his other brothers had something to say, because his frown deepened, and his brow furrowed. He typed some more before sighing as he tucked his phone away.
“It’ll likely take a night or two to get more information,” Rafe said as he returned his gaze to Philippe.
The silence stretched between them, and for the first time it felt uncomfortable. The night was still young and they could go out again, search more of Piper’s hunting grounds, but after Rafe’s injury, Philippe was reluctant to do so. But he also didn’t want to leave.
If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to cross the living room and pin Rafe to the wall with his own body.
To continue what had happened in that dark hallway at the club.
But Philippe didn’t move. He kept the furniture between them as he stood on the opposite side of the room.
Less than an hour ago, Rafe had been bleeding and in pain.
If the attacker hadn’t been a Varik enemy, then Rafe had been shot because of danger that Philippe had brought into his life.
Self-doubt, longing, and nervous anxiety mixed in his gut to create a toxic potion that was sent pumping through his blood. He didn’t want to leave but felt guilty for lingering.
“Let it go, Philippe,” Rafe murmured. There seemed to be a twinkle of poorly concealed laughter in his sharp blue eyes.
Philippe opened his mouth, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say.
To take the blame yet again? To profess ignorance as to what he was referring to?
It didn’t matter. The words were instantly stopped by the soft ding announcing the arrival of the elevator.
They stood, silently staring at each other until a shaky voice called into the penthouse.
“Rafe? Are…are you there?”
Rafe ripped his eyes from Philippe, his expression becoming a mask of worry. “Gideon?”
They both turned toward the hallway to see a slender young man with sandy blond hair and a pale face lined with pain. He was leaning heavily against the wall as he hobbled into the room.
Rafe swore softly as he rushed to the newcomer and swept him into his arms. “Gideon, you haven’t fed again. Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“You’ve been so busy recently. Not coming to the club. I…I didn’t want to bother you.” Gideon’s words were muffled as he turned his face into Rafe’s chest. “Lola said you’d be there tonight, but I missed you.”
“How did you get here? Where is Lola?”
“Called a car. Didn’t want to bother her.”
Rafe sighed, and Philippe could see him tighten his arms carefully around the vampire before sitting down in one of the plush leather chairs. Getting the young one settled in his lap, Rafe quickly unfastened the top couple of buttons of his shirt. “You need to feed.”
“But…” Gideon didn’t continue, but his eyes drifted over toward Philippe.
“I’m going to step out on your balcony. I don’t think I’ve appreciated this incredible view yet,” Philippe volunteered, already heading toward the doors. Rafe gave a small nod, turning his attention to Gideon in his arms.
Opening the door, Philippe stepped outside and breathed in the rush of crisp, fresh air as it hit his face. His mind was swirling in so many different directions, leaving him struggling to sort through all the new and unexpected information.
The most disturbing was the flash of jealousy he’d felt at seeing the young vampire cradled in Rafe’s arms. But that vanished almost as quickly as it had formed. It took only one good look at Rafe’s demeanor to see that his concern for the vampire was not sexual, but paternal.
But Gideon wasn’t Rafe’s fledgling. All the information he had on the Variks indicated Ethan was the first fledgling any of the Varik brothers had made. Regardless, it was clear that Gideon was special to Rafe, even if Rafe didn’t make him.
And vampires generally didn’t feed from other vampires. Fledglings did occasionally in their first years if their maker was particularly generous. It was a way of getting a little extra boost of power. Sometimes it was just a way of getting through if a vampire couldn’t safely feed from a human.
Well, there was also the fun of biting during sex.
And then Gideon had come in limping. It wouldn’t have been safe for him to feed on his own.
He’d traveled from Blush to Rafe’s penthouse just to feed from Rafe?
Turning, Philippe chanced a look into the penthouse and his heart gave a little skip to see Rafe sitting in the chair with his eyes closed.
Gideon was tucked tightly against him, his face pressed to Rafe’s neck as he drank down his blood.
Rafe’s fingers threaded through Gideon’s hair in a gentle, soothing caress.
The entire image was so tender and intimate, Philippe found himself turning away, feeling as if he was intruding.
“Thank you, Rafe,” Gideon said, his happy voice carrying through the open door. “I’m feeling so much better now.”
Rafe hummed softly, sounding a little tired but okay. “Shall we test it?”
Philippe turned to the open doorway in time to see Gideon deftly climb to his feet, moving with perfect grace and ease. Rafe rose and crossed the room to a table holding an open black case. When he lifted the violin to his shoulder, Philippe’s heart skipped for a new reason. Rafe was going to play.
As Rafe placed the bow against the strings, Gideon grinned broadly before hurrying over to an empty space between the bar and the furniture. He took up his position, one long, slender arm raised in the air and Philippe realized Gideon had been a ballet dancer as a human.