CHAPTER THREE
Waiting till three to meet for coffee was a really bad idea.
Flint paced his quarters for most of the night, not able to get thoughts of his newly discovered beloved out of his mind.
He went to the dining hall and had coffee and pie at five in the morning, hoping it would focus his thoughts and ease his anxious need to be near Myles, but it was useless.
He was sitting there with his third cup of coffee when, to his surprise, Master Hadden walked into the dining hall. He looked over at Flint and came toward him.
“Mind if I sit?” He asked as if Flint would ever tell this man no.
"Of course," Flint stated immediately as he sat up straighter in his chair.
“Michael told me that you found your beloved." He began.
“Yes, sir. Myles Fisher, a human working at a men's clothing store on the east side." Flint smiled as thoughts of his beloved filled him.
He smiled warmly, and Flint was touched by his interest. “I hope it goes smoothly, but be watchful. Fate brings people together when they need each other the most.” Flint found his considerations shifting in that moment.
“I haven’t discovered anything out of the ordinary yet.” He offered.
“Be watchful.” He repeated. “My Walker appeared to be without issue, but chaos surrounded us almost from the beginning," Flint remembered, and he remembered the pain that coursed through the coven when the Master’s beloved was under threat.
“I'll be watchful." He stated that he knew the Master would not issue such a warning without cause. Master Hadden stared at him for a moment and then stood.
“Congratulations.” He said. “I look forward to meeting him.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now I’m here to get a slice of lemon cream pie. Walker has a craving, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for that gorgeous man.” He winked and then headed to the kitchen.
Flint thought about the love and devotion that was so evident between the Master and his beloved, and he longed for that bond.
Someone with the status and importance of Master Hadden had no problem going to the kitchen at three in the morning and getting his lover a treat.
He could have easily ordered someone to do it for him, but he did it himself, and the love it showed was deep and real. Flint wanted that so badly.
The warning continued to ring in his ears. He would look into Myles’ life a little closer. The Master was right; it was unusual for a couple to come together without issue. Flint had never witnessed it, and he’d watched many in the coven find their bonds.
Be watchful, he'd said, and Flint decided to check out Myles' neighborhood. It was early morning, and he had no hope of sleeping. He parked a couple of blocks south of Myles’ apartment building and got out.
It was still dark, and the morning chill was in the air.
He looked around, and he noticed a few people on the sidewalk, but no one paid him any attention.
He focused on the building's interior and felt his beloved's vibrations.
The light connection was heart-warming in a way he'd never felt before. It was a sense of belonging, security, and a growing devotion. He held it for a few minutes, gauging his beloved’s wellbeing, before stepping back and turning his attention back to the street.
Myles was asleep, though clearly restless.
Flint could feel his tension through their connection.
It wasn't anything too serious, just a slight unease that Flint would investigate during their coffee date.
Master Hadden's warning kept coming back to him, and he did not want to overlook anything that might be troubling his beloved.
Flint walked to the end of the block and then turned back, planning to head to his car parked several blocks down. To his surprise, he saw three men dressed in suits standing in front of Myles’ apartment building. All three were shifters, wolf shifters, and their intentions were in shadow.
Vampires have a sense of intent when it comes to shifters. Their motives, if blatant enough in their own minds, can be interpreted by vampires. These three were oozing criminal intent, and they weren't trying to hide the feeling.
They looked at Flint as he passed them, but did not try to engage. Flint committed their faces to memory and would look them up in the coven database. They held the impression of well-dressed thugs.
They moved on, heading up the street as Flint headed down.
Stopping in front of the apartment building might have been just happenstance, with nothing intended.
But he would still investigate and stand watch until morning.
He got into his car and moved closer to get a good view of the apartment building.
Just before dawn, he walked the block in front of the apartment building again and felt the connection with his beloved wash over him. Myles was awake, and the sensations were getting sharper and richer.
He was rushing around getting ready for something, and his previous tension had eased. Flint was looking forward to seeing him again and planned to do his best to take the relationship further, because coffee dates on their own were not going to cut it.
Myles was up early. The vision of that gorgeous, sophisticated man danced in his dreams all night long, and then sleep became impossible.
He had a fire in his gut, a sign that something special was close.
Whenever he felt that burn, something new and good had entered his life.
It was superstition, but it had never been wrong.
It was going to be difficult waiting for three o’clock, but it gave him plenty of time to decide on an outfit and to get his hair just right.
He looked in the mirror after his shower and noticed the bruise on his face looked better, actually.
He looked like he been punched in the face, but rather than getting worse, it was healing rather quickly. That was a big relief.
He still looked a little pathetic, so he tried to cover it up.
Scrounging through the vanity drawer, he found a concealer stick and, after several minutes of trying to hide the bruise, decided it looked better as is.
The concealer just amplified the problem.
Flint had seen the injury yesterday, so it wouldn't be a surprise.
Walking over to his living room window, he looked out onto the roadway.
People were moving around, cars were filling the street, and life was waking up.
He drank coffee, ate a piece of toast, and pondered the day.
It wasn't long before his phone began to ring, and the peace of the day was shattered.
It was his father starting the day out with demands and denigrations. He should have kept him blocked.
"Hello." He stated, tentatively holding the phone in front of him and staring down at it like it might bite.
“Do you have the eight hundred?” He barked.
"No." Myles left it at that; no amount of explaining helped, so he was just going to be clear and consistent. Silence hung in the air for several minutes, excruciating silence.
“Did you sell your electronics?” He shouted and then quickly added. “Is your gaming more important than your parents having a home?”
“I don’t game. I don’t have electronics apart from the phone you just called me on.” Again, he stayed calm and direct.
“Sell your car.” His tone was getting louder and more chaotic.
“I sold my car last March to pay your doctor bills. You’ve taken everything, I have nothing left to sell.” Myles abruptly closed the call, not wanting to fight this out any further. He couldn't help them; they would have to find another way.
His phone rang again immediately, but he dismissed it and tossed it onto the couch. They weren’t done, not yet; they would make a few more runs at him with increasing threats, but this time, he had nothing more to give them. He had $300 to get him through the month. He had nothing to spare.
Myles sat down in his chair and dropped his head into his hands.
Dealing with them was so overwhelming. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?
He lay back in the chair and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, and then closed his eyes.
He couldn't go on like this every month; the constant attacks and demands were wearing him out and taking everything from him.
His phone rang again, and he could see it wasn't his father this time. He saw Randy's name pop up, so he crossed the room and grabbed it. "What's up?" He asked.
“Remember those guys that came in last night and . . .” He fell off, but Myles finished the sentence for him.
“And punched me in the face.” He said.
“Yeah, those guys. If you happen to see them, just stay away. They're bad news and capable of greater harm than just a beating down." Randy sounded nervous.
“Who are they?” Myles became serious.
“Trouble, big trouble, but you don't need to be involved. Dad's dealing with them, so I just wanted to make sure that you don't do anything stupid like call them names or something." He finished.
"I got the message last night. I have no intention of engaging in any name-calling." That sounded absurd.
“Good, I wouldn’t want them to break your neck or anything like that.” He continued.
“Yeah, I’d rather they didn’t break my neck.” Myles rolled his eyes. “Are they going to show up at the shop again?”
"I don't think so, but if they do, just let me handle it." Randy wasn't this brave. Words were one thing, but actions were quite another.
“Sure.” He decided to just play along.
"Okay, have a good day, and I'll see you tomorrow." He was about to close the call when he suddenly continued. “You’re meeting that hunky guy from last night, what was his name?"
“Flint Marsh and he works security for Nikolas Hadden.” He enunciated each word, very proud of the man who was meeting him for coffee.
“Wow, I wish you luck and have a good time, I mean it.”