2. Justin
Justin
T he front door was in splinters. That was the first thing Justin noticed, and it made his breath catch in his throat. His Aunt Lavinia was a badass, she always had been, so if something broke down her door, she wouldn’t run.
He rushed into the house, skipping up the front stairs, to find a living room laid waste. The floor was littered with broken tchotchkes and slashed pillows, some of which were stained with blood. Panic bloomed in Justin’s chest, threatening to overwhelm him. What had they done to her?
“Hello, weak little vampire. My coven master wants something from you.” The vampire was so much bigger than him, muscular and intimidating, sporting a military-style haircut.
“Where’s my aunt?” Justin asked, gathering his courage.
Pain burst in his face as the vampire’s claw sliced his cheek. He couldn’t fight this. He couldn’t ? —
“Justin! It’s time to go!”
Oscar’s bright tenor voice was followed by a loud knocking on his apartment’s front door. Justin winced at the sound, despite being grateful he interrupted the awful memory. It had been Oscar that Rick’s coven master had wanted in the end, and Justin had done horrible things to save his aunt.
No. That was all over. Oscar had forgiven him.
“One sec!”
He turned back to the vanity mirror and continued to fuss with his unruly blonde curls.
Even in death, his hair was still so perturbing.
He loved his curls, but he envied the straight, floppy hair of Oscar’s mate, Trent.
All Trent did was step out of the shower and run a comb through it once. Justin’s hair required taming .
He stepped back, checking the whole picture.
In baggy black pants and a tight beige top, Justin had found a good balance of sexy twink and self-assured professional.
His features were soft, and his fair skin held a kiss of sun.
He’d fed the evening before, so his undead pallor was at its lowest effect.
He smiled at his reflection.
“Hi, I’m Justin. This is my first day.”
Ugh. It was so affected. He was trying, but his confidence was shaky. He’d never had a job before. But he had to do something , to contribute in some way. Trent and Master Freddie had saved him. They’d gotten him out from under the thumb of the evil vampire coven. He needed to pay them back.
“My coven master knows you’re in love with the long-haired vampire. Oscar.”
Justin froze at the monster’s words. Rick. The hulking vampire was named Rick.
“It’s not true ? —”
Another blow rained down on Justin’s head.
“If you lie, you lose the right to speak, weakling.” Rick sneered, his square jaw radiating menace. “Oscar belongs to my coven master. Lead him to us. If you don’t, you’ll never see your aunt or Oscar again.”
No. It was over. Rick was dead. Rick’s master was dead. Oscar and Trent had both forgiven him. Before everything had happened, Justin had been the cheerful one, the one who believed everything would be okay. He had just started to feel like, maybe, he could find that part of himself again.
The Grosvenor Coven was Justin’s home now. He needed a job to be a productive member of it. How hard could it be to sit at the front desk and handle the room reservations at the Manhattan Lyric Opera? Sure, he wasn’t very smart. But there probably wouldn’t be any algebra involved, right?
He turned to the side, admiring his profile. His ass did look amazing in these pants. That was one point in his favor. Time to go.
Justin ran down the concrete stairs of the utilitarian stairwell. A converted luxury high-rise, the covenhouse was the nicest he’d ever seen, and the largest. Each vampire had their own apartment, and a whole floor had been converted into a large, shared area with a communal kitchen.
Freddie was a fair coven master. He cared about his vampires, and Justin was grateful. In his experience, Freddie was the exception to the rule.
Oscar and Trent stood waiting a few steps from the doorway.
They were quite a pair. Oscar was tall and toned, with shoulder-length brown hair and a twinkle in his eyes.
Trent was shorter, sporting floppy blonde hair and a linebacker’s build.
Trent tossed his backpack over his shoulder when he saw Justin.
“Ready?” Trent asked with a smile .
Justin nodded, but his throat went suddenly dry. Why was he so nervous? It was just a silly job.
“Of course he’s not ready. Look at the poor thing—he’s a mess.”
Justin turned to see Anthony, a dashing brown-haired vampire of Italian descent wearing a perfectly tailored suit. Anthony was the coven master’s mate. He ran the day-to-day of the covenhouse. He also had his fingers in everyone’s business.
Anthony sat on one of the antique couches in the large communal area.
It matched the look of the nearby chaise lounge and of the upholstered chairs and framed portraits in the room.
Justin had a vague sense Freddie had imported his nineteenth-century British tastes when he took over the building.
He didn’t mind it, although it clashed with the glass, concrete, and steel of the modern high-rise.
“I’m not a mess!” Justin said, smiling. “Just a little nervous. Thanks for getting me the job.”
Anthony had sung many times at the Manhattan Lyric, and he’d pulled some strings for Justin. In many ways, it was an ideal situation. The opera house was only a few blocks away, and Trent and Oscar were already attending the young artist’s program there.
Concern passed over Anthony’s face. “You don’t have to work if you don’t want to. The coven doesn’t need rent money. We can find stuff here if you need something to do.”
Justin dismissed Anthony's words with a wave. “Gotta earn my keep. And there’s nothing for me to do here. I’m not a fighter. I’ve worked security before, and I’m bad at it.”
Anthony stood and walked toward Justin, determination in his eyes. “We are not your old coven. You don’t have to prove that you’re worth our investment. We already think you are. So why not?—”
“Anthony, you’re the coven master’s mate. You run the covenhouse, and you also teach voice full time. And you’re a professional singer. I can manage thirty-five hours a week, manning a desk and doing paperwork. Plus, I get to meet new people!”
Justin smiled. Although he was anxious about starting the job, he did legitimately like making new friends.
The common area of the covenhouse was fairly empty, given the early hour, but in the far corner, Alan and Pip, two British vampire brothers in black leather jackets, sat on the floor playing cards on the red and black Victorian rug.
Or they had been. Now they were staring at Justin and Anthony with eyes that said Do you really think you can get Anthony to stop fussing over you?
The answer was probably not. It was Anthony’s literal job to worry about the vampires of the Grosvenor coven.
“Honestly, you’re giving Justin a gift,” Trent called out, leaning against the door frame.
“What does that mean?” Anthony asked. Justin wondered the same thing. What was Trent getting at?
“He gets to work in the same building as his crush, Maestro Zaslavsky.” Trent’s voice pulsed with teasing laughter.
“He’s not my crush! I just think he’s kinda sexy.” Justin shrugged. He wasn’t lying. The man was very attractive. “Besides, I’ve only seen him once, at the gala last year, and we weren’t even introduced.”
“Well, now’s your chance!” Trent said with a wink.
Trent wasn’t wrong. Besides, Justin had spent the last five or more years very isolated. Having a job was going to be good for him.
Anthony sighed, stepping forward and taking Justin’s hands in his own.
“Okay. But you tell me if there are any problems, alright? Especially if any of those New Jersey witches show up. We still don’t know what their deal is.”
Justin nodded, and Anthony came in for a hug. The vampire wasn’t tall, but he was taller than Justin, and his embrace was strong and surprisingly warm for one of the undead.
“I will. I promise.”
Oscar and Trent were disgustingly cute during the trip over to the opera house, holding hands and leaning against one another as they walked.
Justin couldn’t blame them. They’d been mated for less than a year and were still cementing the bond between them. That didn’t mean all the PDA was pleasant for him, though.
Not that they didn’t deserve to be happy. Justin was thankful his betrayal was water under the bridge. They understood the situation. Eventually. And he was over his crush on Oscar now, but that didn’t mean seeing them being so adorable was fun.
Oh well. A mate wasn’t in his future. He didn’t deserve one, after the mistakes he’d made.
Most of the time, he didn’t want that anyway.
He wanted a simple life—to have a job and be part of a coven and hang out and play board games with the other vampires.
Maybe hook up with a sexy guy occasionally.
That’s all he could hope for, even if it was a little lonely.
When they reached the plaza where the Manhattan Lyric Opera was located, Justin stared past the fountain and up at the large building. He’d been there several times before but always at night, when the chandeliers shone through the massive windows, giving the whole place a soft, elegant feel.
In the light of day, the place loomed with an intimidating pretentiousness. The arched windows were eyes crowned by raised eyebrows, staring down at him with disdain. The sculptures of Greek gods were all giving him significant attitude.
Oscar and Trent had walked ahead as Justin took the opera house in, but now Oscar ran back to him. “Are you okay?”
Justin didn’t say anything. This was only a job. He didn’t have to be good at it, only charming enough they didn’t fire him on day one. He could do that.
Oscar pressed his lips together, concern shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to?—”
“I’m great.” Justin forced a smile and winked. “After the shit we’ve been through? What’s a little paperwork?”
Oscar nodded. “Do you want to go in?”
“Of course!” Justin strode forward, locking arms with Oscar and heading toward Trent and the front entrance. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Cranky musicians? Anal retentive pianists? No problem. I got this.”