CHAPTER TEN || JEREMY
I followed ten feet behind Thierry as he stormed down Rookwood’s deserted main street.
It dawned on me in stages why he’d left the manager’s office so abruptly.
He’d lied. His reaction had nothing to do with me.
Which meant the violence had rattled him.
In my defense, it was a tough pill to swallow—the idea that any vampire, much less Thierry, could give a single, solitary shit about a stranger he’d never met. It was just this side of ludicrous.
But he clearly did, didn’t he? That’s why he’d bolted. And then he’d gone on the attack, the way a cornered animal lashes out, the second I had boxed him in.
Other pieces clicked into place: first, his simmering anger toward me. And then there was the murderous gleam in his eyes when he’d brought up James…
It couldn’t have been just worry for James.
And if it was… did that mean they were—what? Friends ?
I didn’t like it. Vampires didn’t have friends. They had victims.
“Thierry, stop,” I called after him, once we’d nearly reached the far end of the street without seeing a single living soul. “Can we talk about this?”
He didn’t look back. Didn’t slow down.
I hesitated, grinding my teeth at the thought of showing weakness. But maybe a little vulnerability would put us on even footing.
So, with effort, I added, “Please?”
He stopped immediately, shooting me a sharp, narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder. The seething rage on his face wasn’t exactly inviting.
“I was raised to believe vampires were blood-drinking monsters who didn’t care about anything but blood and sex. My father taught me that. His father taught him.”
“Who says I’m not?” Thierry’s voice was cold. “You don’t know me at all.”
“I won’t hurt James,” I said, watching him closely for a reaction. “You have my word on that.”
It landed. Some of that fury flickered, and for just an instant I could’ve sworn I saw relief in his eyes.
Which meant, yes—he was worried about the human.
“You like him,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. “James, I mean.”
He pursed his lips, but the anger didn’t fade. “It’s hardly a schoolyard crush. James is useful—he keeps the king’s progeny happy and out of my hair.”
“Thierry, come on.”
“I’m done explaining myself to you.”
“You never started.”
“Bully for me, then.” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve anything from me.”
Ian had taught me that the best way through a fight I was mostly responsible for was to own my crap and make amends. Ian was far more patient than Thierry, but still—this mess wasn’t the vampire’s fault.
“Look, I know I’m a dick, okay?”
Thierry paused, lips twitching as if I’d almost startled him into a smile. Then his gaze swept over me, assessing. “Go on.”
“You hate me. I didn’t understand why. But it’s because of what I tried to do to James. Isn’t it?”
He arched a brow, silent, eyes glittering dangerously as they bored into me as if he were trying to peel me apart piece by piece to see what made me tick.
“And you probably should,” I added. “If James is actually your”—I forced the word out, still halfway sure it was impossible—“friend.”
“Just because you’re doing the bare minimum—and badly , I might add—doesn’t mean I have to forgive you.”
“I don’t want you to,” I said quickly. After all, I had left my pack for a reason. My emotions—and my decisions—couldn’t be trusted. “You shouldn’t.”
His brows drew together, his expression thawing a fraction. “You mean that. Your heartbeat’s as steady as a metronome.”
“You can really hear it when someone’s lying?”
He sighed, more of the heat draining away. “Tell me, Jeremy—what do you want, if it’s not my forgiveness?”
I faltered. I honestly didn’t know.
“Good Lord.” Thierry shook his head, rolling his eyes heavenward. “Seems I was wrong in my previous assessments. Toe rags have far more depth than you. You’re about as nuanced as a pet rock.”
I tried not to take offense. Fair enough that he’d think something along those lines.
“Were those really a thing?”
“There were many delightful things about the nineteen-seventies,” Thierry said, still frowning. “Those weren’t one of them.”
Grateful for the subject change, I asked, “What was it like?”
“Excuse me?”
“The seventies. Living through them.”
“You’ll have to do better than that if you want me to stop hating you,” Thierry said, but the coldness had gone from his voice. His eyes didn’t look quite so dangerous, either. He added, “Admitting you’re an asshole and then changing the subject to distract me isn’t enough.”
I took a deep breath. My wolf was all for this strange shift in conversation, even if the rest of me wasn’t sure showing this much vulnerability was wise. But he was right. Admitting I was a jerk only went so far.
“I’m sorry.”
He studied me, perhaps listening for the truth in my heartbeat.
When I didn’t elaborate, his scowl deepened. “You’re sorry for what?”
“All of it,” I said simply. Because it was true.
“Very well. I still don’t like you,” Thierry said after a long moment had elapsed between us.
Though he sounded more grudging than anything else.
“And yet, I can be gracious. Therefore, I’ll do my best to keep the hostilities between us to a minimum.
That is, if you’ll agree to do the same.
” He swept me with a disdainful look. “And for the record, I have no interest in getting to know you better.”
“Likewise,” I shot back immediately.
Thierry paused, no doubt listening to my heart again.
Then he scowled and turned away from me. He immediately began walking, leading us through the desolate, abandoned town. And I was pretty sure we both knew it was the first time I had ever lied to him.
* * *
I didn’t see a single car on the road. No one on the sidewalks, either.
A handful of businesses lined each side of the street, all dark and locked.
Most had signs in their windows saying some variation of Closed until further notice, sorry.
Others looked like they’d been shut in a hurry, the owners never returning.
I wasn’t sure what Thierry was looking for until he stopped in front of Rookwood Pharmacy. A large patch of red stained the pavement—dried to a deep rust, but the metallic scent still lingered. Blood. And no accompanying body.
Exactly like the dream we’d shared.
An abandoned town. This town, down to every last detail. All of it drowned in a sea of blood that swept over everything. And in the middle of it all, a black-haired man with cold eyes.
“We should split up,” Thierry said, frowning down at the stain.
I glared at the back of his head. “No way in hell.”
He turned, annoyed. “We’ll cover more ground. You can go traipsing off into the woods and determine if this is the work of bleeds—”
“It’s not.”
His mouth snapped shut, his expression startled.
“This wasn’t a mindless monster. Even an intelligent one would’ve left the bodies.”
“Yes,” Thierry said reluctantly.
“A vampire did this,” I said flatly. “Didn’t it?”
He sighed. “Perhaps you aren’t as slow as you look.”
“That only gets funnier every time you say it.”
His electric-blue eyes narrowed. “Would you like to see me when I’m not a barrel of laughs? It could get quite messy.”
I cocked my head, considering him. “Maybe I don’t mind messy.”
It was meant as a challenge, but instead it came out as a genuine statement of truth. His eyes widened slightly, the color draining from his face. As if I’d startled him. I had startled myself, too.
“So,” I said, changing tack. “This is the work of a vampire.”
“Vampires,” he corrected. “If I had to guess, a brazen newborn working with an older one.”
“And they’re killing the townsfolk.”
“It’s safe to use the past tense,” Thierry said, his gaze sweeping the street. “And yes, something like that.”
“Don’t you folks have rules against this sort of thing?”
He arched a brow. “Us folks?”
“Vampires.”
“We’re not a monolith, Jeremy.”
I snorted. “Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. Stop being prickly and answer the question.”
“Please don’t mistake the fact I haven’t torn your throat out for anything other than sheer practicality.”
His words should have chilled me. He was faster, stronger, and I couldn’t take him in human form. But my wolf knew better—and so did I. The mate bond, even if Thierry wasn’t consciously aware of it yet, wouldn’t let us harm each other.
However… he felt fear.
I became aware of it abruptly. I didn’t feel his emotions like they were my own or anything like that. Instead, I just knew. Bone-deep. There was something here Thierry was terribly afraid of.
And he knew exactly what it was, even if I didn’t.
I thought of the black-haired man in our dream—cold-eyed, a predator watching prey. Was he the one Thierry feared? Was that the real reason Thierry wanted us to split up? Was he afraid this vampire was still in Rookwood?
“Well, well,” Thierry murmured, lips curving in a thin, mirthless smile. “If I knew threats to your life would shut you up, I’d have tried it sooner.”
Before I could do something stupid, like confront him about the emotions I had just sensed, he yawned.
In fact, he’d yawned three times in the past fifteen minutes. The sun was taking its toll on him. I could feel that, too.
“We should keep moving,” I said.
Without waiting for him, I crossed the street to the deeper shade beneath the awnings.
“We’ve determined this wasn’t bleeds,” Thierry said, following. “You ought to leave. You can tell Nathaniel—”
“That I abandoned you?” I snorted. “Yeah, that’ll go over great for the pack.”
He sighed, long and beleaguered.
At the far edge of town sat a single-story motel, unimaginatively named The Rookwood Motel.
It was one of those older L-shaped places with a front desk on one end that doubled as a live-in apartment.
There was access to the rooms directly from the parking lot.
How it stayed in business in a town this size was anyone’s guess.
Thierry frowned at it. A few cars sat in the lot, but there was no sign of movement.