Chapter Six
T hey filled the sleeping bag with rocks and bloody clothes.
Aiden fit stones into Thomas’s chest cavity, and Shay sealed the sleeping bag with duct tape.
The Ocean Grove trailhead was as quiet as it had been two nights ago, city sounds masked by crashing waves and wind rustling through overgrown flora.
Aiden nursed a stale cigarette he’d found in the cupholder of Shay’s extremely uncool Toyota Highlander, avoiding the hallowed ground where he’d staked the knife through blood and feathers.
This place seemed cursed, still reeling in the aftermath of a ritual gone wrong.
A white, round face beamed in the center of the sky, lighting their way as Aiden took one end of the sleeping bag and Shay took the other, and they tossed the weighty sack into the sea.
Aiden flicked the cigarette. Orange sparks fell and died, following Thomas Malone—poor fucking sap—into the depths.
“Think he’ll sink?” Shay asked.
Aiden nodded. “It’s deep enough.”
“I sent the text.”
“Yeah, I saw. Now we need to get rid of his phone. ”
“Think they’ll buy it?”
“They won’t have a choice. Did your replacement ship?”
“Yeah, should be ready for pick-up tomorrow. You owe me for that, by the way. Phones aren’t cheap.”
Aiden nodded again. He listened to the water move, to the witching hour take hold.
Clubs on Hollywood Boulevard were closing tabs, night owls were dipping into 24-Hour cafés, and dancers were sitting backstage, digging damp bills out of thigh-high boots.
All the while, Aiden and Shay were on a cliffside, hoping the Pacific Ocean would swallow their shared secret.
Shay followed his gaze to the black line where sky met water. “Why’d you kiss me?”
Aiden briefly considered throwing himself off the cliff.
He shifted his jaw, ignoring the tightness growing in his chest. Of all the things he wanted to undo, that kiss made the top of his list. Being kissed back, knowing Shay felt something , cast a spotlight on all the what ifs Aiden had smothered. That kiss made him weak. Made him want.
“To distract you,” Aiden said. The lie tasted cheap.
“It worked,” Shay said, softly, accidentally. He cleared his throat and shoved his thumbs through his belt loops, swaying from heel to toe. “Are we done here?”
Aiden turned his back on the ocean. “Yeah, c’mon. Let’s go.”
KNIGHT’S BLOOD TEA SPILLAGE
Thomas Manko: hey guys, sorry to do this over text but my ex just called and she’s in a crisis. i’ve gotta head back home for a while. it might be indefinite. good luck with everything and sorry again. the last few months have been fun!
Georgia Williams: ARE YOU KIDDING
Georgia Williams: THOMAS
Georgia Williams: ANSWER YOUR PHONE
Dylan Fisher: what the fuck is up with dudes just dippin out right before a show
Georgia Williams: This is insane
Aiden Moore: I think I can fix this
Georgia Williams: you gonna drive to Canada and collect him before HoB tomorrow?
Dylan Fisher: his phone just rings and rings
Dylan Fisher: i knew he had bad vibes knnneewwwww iiittt
Aiden Moore: Meet me at Java in 15
Georgia Williams: I’m calling Jacob
Aiden Moore: okay but meet at Java in 15. yes?
Dylan Fisher: yeah see you there
Georgia sent a red-faced pissed-off emoji and a thumbs-up.
“What happens now?” Shay asked, scrolling through his new rose-gold iPhone.
Aiden heaved a sigh. “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. ”
“What’s the worst?”
“Jacob breaks a chair over your face.”
“What’s the best?”
“Georgia punches you in the dick and we call it a day.”
“Oh, awesome. I should’ve stayed home.”
“I’m almost kidding.” Aiden gave the kitchen floor another once over and knelt to inspect the grout in the hallway.
He’d scrubbed gore from the tile. Poured bleach over everything.
Scrubbed again with soap and doused ghostly stains in fizzy hydrogen peroxide.
For the first time in months, his apartment was actually clean.
“I bookmarked some websites after we got back last night, by the way. All signs point to vampire.”
Shay rolled his eyes and threw himself on the bed. Ridiculous, dramatic princess. “I’m not a fucking vampire, Aiden.”
“Okay, then you’re a zombie.”
“I’m not a zombie .”
“You’re something ,” Aiden snapped.
“It’s not like I found an instruction manual at the bottom of the fucking ocean, Aiden. My bad.”
“Look, you could be a Chupacabra?—”
Laughter shook Shay’s shoulders. He covered his face with his hands, heaving a sigh. “Maybe I’m Mothman,” he said, exasperated.
Aiden threw a shoe at him. “You consumed flesh— human flesh. You drank blood, you have top and bottom fangs, and?—”
“And, what? We don’t have a clue what happened to me, okay? I know two things. Excuse me, three things. One, I was dead. Two, I’m not dead. Three, I’d like to stay not dead.”
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure staying not dead involves not starving. Have you…” Aiden considered his next words carefully. “Are you hungry? Have you been hungry since?—”
“It’s not the same type of hungry,” Shay said, and threw the shoe back at Aiden, whacking him in the thigh. “Speaking of which, aren’t we supposed to be at Java?”
“Yeah, let’s… Let’s just go. We’ll do research when we get back. Has anyone sniffed around about Thomas yet?”
“The only shit saved on his phone was pony-fetish Reddit forums and Tinder. He didn’t have Facebook—just Insta. The last time he called his Dad was, like, I don’t know, sometime last year. Christmas, maybe?”
“Good.” Aiden tightened his belt, and flipped a hat on, bill facing backward.
He’d stomped on Thomas’s phone last night.
Smashed it under his boot, collected the pieces, boiled them for twenty minutes, and dumped them in a sewer drain two blocks away.
Gone. Disappeared. Hopefully, forgotten.
Insignificant grief nipped him again, but he watched Shay brush invisible dust from his gray Mastodon tee, and the nagging faded.
I bought you that shirt, he thought. Three years ago, at a concert in Portland.
Walking along the Willamette, drinking tall-boys wrapped in paper bags, watching the famous neon deer shine red on shadowed windows.
Aiden blinked the memory away. “I called you as soon as Thomas’s text hit the group chat.
You finally answered after going dark for two days, told me the bullshit with David killed any future with Chain, and I put an offer on the table. That’s the plan, yeah?”
“You forgot the part where we told each other to fuck off,” Shay said.
“They’ll assume that much.”
“Are you telling them Thomas came back here with you?” He lifted a tapered eyebrow, smile ticking upward.
Aiden shot him a furious glance. “Yeah. And he passed out in the hallway. The end.”
Shay hummed, swinging his car keys around his index finger. He leaned against the outdoor banister while Aiden shut and locked the door, playful judgement pushing his brows higher. His smile split into a grin. “I always knew you were hot for singers, but?—”
“I stabbed you once, I’ll stab you again.”
Shay laughed in his throat.
They drove to Koreatown and parked in the garage under the Wiltern Theater.
Knight’s Blood had played there a few times—stared at half-filled red seats, snapped selfies backdropped with elaborate deécor, signed EPs next to the ticket booth—and always stopped at the café on the corner for a cup of the best whipped coffee around.
Aiden adjusted his sunglasses and faced a still waking city.
On the sidewalk, a vendor popped open a pink umbrella, shading a vibrant fruit cart.
Juicy mangoes crowded in an ice bin and bagged pomegranate juice hung from the glass shield.
Across the street, Aiden’s favorite food truck idled along the curb, shaded by palm trees.
Shay came to a sudden halt, searching the dirty ground before he looked at Aiden. “What do we say about these?” he asked and licked his teeth.
“Dental modifications.” Aiden fanned his white tank, fending off morning heat.
“Oh. . . Okay, yeah.” He wrung his hands and shifted his gaze to the neon OPEN sign in Java’s window. “Should you go in first?”
“It’s gonna be shitty regardless, just follow me.”
Aiden took a breath. This was the serious shit.
The hey, let’s take back the person who completely screwed us shit.
The we might’ve murdered Thomas but here’s a solution shit.
Realistically, they all knew Shay Bennett could potentially make or break Knight’s Blood.
Didn’t change the past, though. Just made betrayal harder to swallow.
He shouldered through the door and walked toward the square table in the corner.
Georgia talked with her hands. She stopped mid-flick of her wrist, stunned into silence.
Dylan tipped his head and gave Shay a calm once over, as if he’d known all along what Aiden had in store.
Jacob laughed like a fucking hyena. “I should’ve known.”
“He’s all we’ve got,” Aiden said. He grabbed a chair from an unoccupied table and dragged it over, kicking it toward Shay. “Thomas skipped town; Chain Reaction fired him?—”
“Good.” Georgia seethed.
“And we need a singer,” Aiden concluded.
Dylan held his fist out to Shay. “’Sup, asshole. Long time, no see.”
“Yeah, it’s been a minute,” Shay said, and bumped his knuckles against Dylan’s fist.
“A minute?” Georgia curled her top lip back.
“Hi Georgia,” Shay mumbled. He nudged his chin toward the counter. “I’ll get a coffee while you guys talk.”
“Yeah, you do that,” she said. As soon as Shay walked away, she shot Aiden a bewildered look. “Are you kidding me? What the hell is goin’ on?”