19. Hes not my enemy.
Chapter nineteen
He's not my enemy...
Nick
N ick pulled the bathroom door shut and leaned against it, finally allowing himself to breathe. The cramped space felt safer than the room beyond, where evidence of last night lingered in rumpled sheets and the faint scent of their bodies pressed together.
He stripped off the pajama pants first, wadding them into a ball. The fabricwasstiff in places, dried remnants of whatthey’ddone together. His face burned as he stuffed them into his backpack.He’dfigure out laundry later—assuming therewasa later, assuming they survived whatever came next.
Ifooled around with a vampire. The thought hit him with the force of a physical blow. I wanted to. I made it happen.
The hunter stirred in the back of his mind, offering tactical assessments. Compromised position . Emotional attachment to target . Owen would call this textbook Stockholm syndrome .
He responded with something like wonder. It felt good. Safe. Like Iwaschoosing something for myself.
The jeans went on easily—snap closure, no fine motor skills required.
But when he looked down at the pajama shirt he still wore, his stomach dropped.
Tiny buttons marched down the front like a row of miniature enemies.
He’dhave to get it off before he could change into the long-sleeve t-shirt Lukabrought him—the left sleeve already thoughtfully knotted at the end.
He tried the first one, pinching it between thumb and remaining fingers. The smooth plastic slipped away from the fabric. Again. His stump pressed against his ribs as he tried to anchor the shirt, but without a second hand to hold it steady, the buttonhole twisted away each time.
Fucking hell. Heat crawled up his neck. Last night, Lukabuttoned the pajama shirt with gentle efficiency, making it look effortless. Now Nick couldn’t manage even one.
A memory tried to surface—Gianmarco selecting clothes each morning—
No. Nick cut the thought off savagely. Don’t. Don’t compare them.
His hand trembled against the button, but not from that memory. Last nighthadbeen different. When Luka helped with the pajamas, it didn’tfeel like ownership or control. Itfelt like kindness.
The sound of running water filtered through the bathroom door, followed by the quiet hiss of a coffee maker. Domestic sounds that felt surreal after everything. Nick imagined Luka moving around the small space, probably giving him privacy to process whatever thiswasbetween them.
Another button attempt failed spectacularly. Nick gave up on them with a frustrated exhale. The shirt hung open, but at least he wasn’t naked.He’dask Luka for help—just practical assistance, nothing more complicated than that.
Because nothing between us two is complicated.
A different perspective emerged: Maybe complicated doesn’t have to mean bad.
Nick’s chest tightened with something dangerously close to affection. WhenhadLuka stopped being“the vampire”and started being... Luka? Someone who whistled Jupiter to help him remember himself, who created blanket nests, who asked permission before every touch?
This is insane , the hunter whispered. You’re falling for your captor .
He’s not my captor, Nick shot back. He saved my life. Multiple times.
Stockholm syndrome —
Shut up. The vehemence of his own response surprised him. The hunterhadgrownso much quieter since last night, as if pleasure freely chosenhadsomehow weakened its hold on him.
The submissive remained completely silent—an absence Nick found unnerving. For months, that whisperprovided constant commentary, reminding him to please, to anticipate needs, to avoid punishment. Its silence felt like missing a heartbeat.
He studied his reflection in the cracked mirror. Same face, same scars, but something fundamentalhadshifted. His eyes looked different. Less haunted. Still tired, still wary, but with a spark of something that might have been hope.
I made a choice last night. I chose him.
The coffee maker gurgled to a stop. Nick squared his shoulders and reached for the door handle. Time to face whatever came next.
He stepped into the main room and spotted Luka by the small kitchenette area, electric toothbrush in hand, a dab of foam at the corner of his mouth. The vampire looked up as Nick emerged, jade eyes taking in his half-dressed state. No judgment in that gaze, just patient attention.
Nick’s prepared words died in his throat. Luka looked so... normal. Human. Standing there in rumpled clothes with toothpaste on his lips, he could have been anyone. A boyfriend helping out after a rough night. Someone who cared.
Boyfriend. The word sent electricity through Nick’s nervous system. He’d never had a boyfriend. Never had anyone who touched him with permission instead of ownership. Was that what Luka was? What they were building together?
Is that what this is?
“I, uh—”Nick gestured helplessly at the pajama shirt.“The buttons are...”
Luka nodded immediately, holding up one finger in a ‘wait’ gesture. He rinsed his mouth and wiped his face with a motel towel, before moving toward Nick with that careful grace that never quite looked human.
“Thank you,”Nick said, holding still as Luka’s fingers found the top button. The touchwasas gentle as ithadbeen last night, but the context felt different. Thiswasn’tseduction or comfort—just practical help.
When the last button came free, Nick stepped back.“I’ll just...”He grabbed the t-shirt from his bag and retreated toward the bathroom.“Give me a minute.”
When Nick emerged from the bathroom in the soft t-shirt, checking the knotted sleeve. Lukatied it perfectly—not too tight, positioned so it wouldn’t chafe. Such a small consideration, but it made Nick’s chest warm.
Lukawaschecking his phone, expression shifting from casual to alert. He turned the screen toward Nick: a message from Haley timestamped three hours ago.“Ready when you are. Community center 2 miles north of the hospital.”
“We slept through the day,”Nick said, glancing at the digital clock. Nearly midnight.
Luka nodded, then seemed to notice something. His hand lifted toward Nick’s face before he caught himself, green eyes questioning. He mimed smoothing down hair, his cheeks flushing pink as he waited for permission.
Nick’s breath caught. Such a simple gesture, but the care behind it, the way Luka asked instead of assuming...“Yeah. Okay.”
Luka’s fingerswerecool against his temple as they gently smoothed his sleep-mussed hair. The touchwasachingly tender, and Nick found himself leaning into it slightly before—
Even if you’re going to keep rubbing up against a vampire like a bitch in heat , the hunter cut through the moment with brutal efficiency, you’re still walking into unknown territory . Get your head in the game .
Nick jerked back, the warmth draining from his face.“We should go,”he said, voice flat.“I’ll go check the parking lot for a car we can, um, borrow.”
That part of himwasn’twrong. It just didn’t have to be such a dick about it.
Luka watched him with that patient, observant gaze that seemed to see through Nick’s deflection.?Are you okay??
The question hung between them, deceptively simple yet impossibly complex.“Yeah. Just... processing.”
Just before stepping outside, Nick glanced back at Luka only to be greeted with a small, reassuring smile.
***
The twenty-minute night drive to Peoria stretched before them like a minefield.
Nick kept his gaze fixed on passing scenery, the warmth of their motel stay dissolved into heavy silence that grew more uncomfortable with each mile.
He could feel Luka’s occasional glances, patient but questioning, and it made his skin crawl with anxiety.
What are we? The question circled his mind without answer. What happens when this is over?
His mind retreated into tactical mode as a defense mechanism, old conditioning providing welcome distraction from emotions hewasn’tready to process.
Every intersection became a potential ambush point.
Each passing car transformed into possible Society surveillance.
At least this part of himself felt familiar, reliable.
The comfortable silence of their drivehadgivenway to tension as they approached their destination. Whatever fragile intimacy theybuilt in the motel room felt distant now, overshadowed by the practical concerns of meeting unknown contacts in unfamiliar territory.
“We should approach from the north,”Nick said, breaking the silence thatstretched for twenty minutes.“Less exposure, better sight lines.”
Luka nodded, glancing at him briefly with a question Nick ignored. He caught the vampire’s hands moving—probably signing something—but Nick kept his eyes on the road.
The community center stood on the outskirts of town—a blocky concrete structure surrounded by a half-empty parking lot.
The GPS showed theywerestill three miles from downtown Peoria, in an industrial area that felt deliberately isolated.
At this hour, the emptiness felt ominous rather than peaceful.
Nick’s assessment activated automatically: two visible entrances, ground-floor windows with security bars, flat roof providing potential sniper positions.
“Something’s wrong,”Nick muttered. The parking lotwasempty except for a single van. No lights inside the building. The front door stood partially open, swaying in the breeze.
Luka slowed their “borrowed” sedan, positioning it for a quick exit.?Wait here??he asked.
“No. We go together.”
Ten yards from the entrance, the smell hit him—gasoline and copper. Blood and accelerant. Nick’s steps faltered as recognition dawned.
“Society cleanup protocol,”he whispered as a chill settled in his stomach.“The systematic elimination of any vampires who might have survived the initial assault, followed by evidence destruction and scene staging to send a message to other nests.”