Chapter 29 #2
He winked at Nicholas, earning himself a smile. Beneath the brutish exterior, Hamza was actually kind of charming.
The air grew thick, and so did the vein running down the center of Gabriel’s forehead.
“No need to pop a vessel, brother. It’s just wings and jokes.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes, the atmosphere dissipating as he led the way inside.
“By the way,” Hamza whispered loud enough for Gabriel to hear. “I prefer the name Nicholas.”
“Think we can get through this night without violence, brother?”
“We can certainly try,” Hamza shot back.
Nicholas chuckled, and Gabriel’s shoulders loosened at the sound. He vanished into the kitchen, the shake of his head clearly for his trouble-making brother.
He and Hamza set the table while Gabriel put the finishing touches on the food. They worked on arranging the plates, glasses, and rolling the silverware in silence, but Nicholas could feel Hamza’s curious gaze on him.
“So, how’s the acclimating process been?”
Nicholas answered truthfully. “Not easy.”
Hamza nodded as if he understood.
“Maybe because it wasn’t what you wanted.”
Gabriel moved about the kitchen, showing no signs that he’d heard his brother.
“Yeah, maybe. But there’s nothing I can do about it now.”
“Being isolated here can’t possibly help. Have you been out yet?”
“No,” he admitted, and Hamza shot a glare into the kitchen.
“It’s not his fault,” Nicholas said, even though he knew the opposite was true.
“Isn’t it?”
“I just mean that he’s asked if I wanted to get out. I said no every time.”
Partly because he didn’t want to be confined in a car with him, but also because he’d been nervous to be around other people.
“I don’t blame you,” Hamza said under his breath. “He probably wanted to take you to the mall.”
Nicholas grinned, securing the cloth napkin around the last of the utensils.
“Have you thought about your future? About what you’re going to do once you get back out there?” He nudged his chin toward the open glass wall and the world beyond the secluded house.
Nicholas had thought about it, but every thought ended in disaster.
“It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, it’s okay.”
It felt good to talk to someone about this, someone other than the person who’d put him in this situation.
“I’ll need to get a job at some point. I have a bit of savings, but it won’t last forever.”
“What are you good at?”
“Not much.” Nicholas shrugged. “I’ve spent all my life in the church.”
He touched his bare neck again.
“I did some admin stuff at St. Michael’s, which helped me land a couple clerical jobs while in school. Nothing that required skills beyond using a stapler.”
“Do you have enough savings to hold you over while you figure it out? Buy you time to get used to things out there before having to dive into the workforce?”
Hamza moved around the table, laying out placemats.
“Yeah, and I suppose I don’t really need food. I could cut more corners. Cancel my membership at the fencing club.”
“Does fencing make you happy?”
“I guess so. Maybe.”
Hamza stopped to look at him.
“Zayn liked the sword,” Nicholas explained, which left him unsure if he actually loved the sport he’d been playing since he was a kid.
“He was good with a sword,” Hamza clarified. “There’s a difference.”
Nicholas hadn’t thought of it that way.
“Besides, most of us loved swordplay. Learning to wield one was like a rite of passage. We love blood and sex too. You don’t plan on giving those up too, do you?”
Sex…
Much of his thinking had been short-sighted and one-sided. Did Gabriel plan on giving up sex? Would he search for comfort once Nicholas had left?
Nicholas dug a clawed hand into his thigh, redirecting his pain there.
“Nicholas,” Hamza called. “You okay?”
“Ah, yeah.”
He shot a glance into the kitchen, unable to look away from Gabriel’s concerned expression.
“Does fencing make you happy?”
Only when Gabriel turned away could Nicholas answer.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “It does.”
“So there you go.”
He made it sound so simple.
They worked in sync, Hamza laying out the service and salad plates while Nicholas came up behind him with the soup bowls. Nicholas normally used the same fork and plate during the course of a meal. He didn’t understand why they needed multiples of everything, including glassware.
“Leave it to my brother to make us sweat for our food. You would think he wasn’t born a savage.”
Nicholas remembered how tense Hamza had been the first time they’d met, how hostile his and Gabriel’s relationship appeared.
A lot of that tension and hostility still lingered, disguised as ribbing, and came mostly from Hamza’s side.
But there was a hint of fondness beneath the masked criticism of his brother.
They continued to make conversation. Underneath the intimidating exterior, Hamza was easy to talk to.
He managed to sound casual, not nosey, supportive, not superior—as if he had a lot to learn too.
Nicholas supposed he did. As far as they knew—whether hybrid or not—massasu dimae were born, not turned.
“I’ll take tomorrow off. We can go for a drive. Just ride around, get some fresh air, and get a sense of how it’ll feel to reintegrate into society. Maybe visit some familiar places. I can’t imagine how it would feel to just walk out of here on your own after everything.”
Nicholas had planned to do exactly that. It sounded like a terrible idea now. To be fair, it sounded like a terrible one then, but he’d been willing to brave it. Still would, if he had to.
“You’d do that for me?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Well, we don’t even know each other. Not enough for you to miss a day of work.”
“We’re family now, Nicholas, and family looks out for one another. Forever’s a long time. Just because you’re not spending it with Gabriel, doesn’t mean you have to live it alone.”
Gabriel must have mentioned that they weren’t on good terms, and he must have organized this dinner to show Nicholas he had someone to turn to. Someone other than him.
He sensed Gabriel watching him and met his gaze. Had he done this to score points with Nicholas?
They stared at each other for an eternity as Nicholas tried to read his mind, decipher his motives, and Gabriel didn’t shy away from the scrutiny.
It both annoyed and relieved Nicholas to conclude that Gabriel’s intentions were unselfish, to admit that he wasn’t the kind of man who’d manipulate Nicholas in this sort of way. Regardless of all the wrongs he’d done, Gabriel was honorable. He was good.
Gabriel’s gaze softened, and Nicholas averted his, hating how his eyes seemed to see too much of him, how they reached deep for the tiny bits Nicholas wanted to keep for himself.
“Well?” Hamza nudged. “Do we have a date? A date that will eat my brother alive, tear him to pieces, and make him sick with jealousy?”
Caught off guard, Nicholas sputtered for a response, then fell into uncontrollable laughter.
He stopped abruptly, looking over at Gabriel again.
There was no jealousy in his expression, no anger toward his brother.
Just a hopefulness, a tender smile. Nicholas didn’t have it in him to scowl, to pretend his mood wasn’t lightened.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He sounded like his old self for a moment, gentle and shy. Gratitude filled some of the gaps that his sadness and anger had left unoccupied.
They helped Gabriel bring the platters of food to the table, and Nicholas was beginning to wonder about Marcus when he heard the pitter-patter of paws followed by obnoxious barking. He’d reached the foyer by the time Marcus let himself in, Maxim, Zeke, and Kai charging right for him.
Nicholas dropped to his knees, accepting their exuberant affection. They were growing so fast now, still lean, but tall, hardly puppies anymore. Zeke’s gait would never be perfect, but he didn’t let that stop him.
They visited almost daily now, but Nicholas stared at Marcus in surprise when he set down their duffel bag of things.
“I’ll drop their beds off later. Figured they’d probably be sleeping with you anyway.”
Nicholas was afraid, unsure if he was ready to take them on full time. What if he hurt them? What if he only thought his hunger was under better control?
“You’re ready,” Gabriel said from somewhere behind him. Maxim darted that way, releasing a gusty sigh when Gabriel rubbed behind his cropped ears.
“I don’t know.” Nicholas watched them. “What if I’m not?”
“What if you are?” Hamza said, biting into a wing.
He looked between the three vampires staring at him with such faith, and he began to have a little of his own. He wouldn’t hurt them. He was strong enough now.
“Okay.”
He hugged Zeke and Kai to him, then watched as they ran over to Gabriel for some attention.
They loved him, almost as much as they adored Nicholas.
Some days, he swore Maxim loved Gabriel more.
He’d be taking them from him, taking them from their home to live in his tiny apartment. Was he doing what was best for them?
He’d worry about that later because it was time to eat, and he suddenly couldn’t wait to be seated around the table with everyone.
The dogs spread out near his chair, and Gabriel reached across the table to pour him a tall glass of blood before filling his own and passing the pitcher to Hamza.
They ate and drank, talking about the most normal, mundane things until they were stuffed with food and had emptied four pitchers between the three of them. Marcus came with his own supply.
“So,” Hamza started, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Has Gabriel told you about all the times I bested him with a sword?”
Nicholas leaned forward with interest, but Gabriel spoke before he could get a word out.
“Lies,” he said in a bored tone, as though they’d had this debate before. “Hamza couldn’t best me if I were hooded and hogtied.”
The two brothers argued good-naturedly, exchanging their versions of events. Gabriel had to have set a world record for eye rolls and huffs of disbelief.