Chapter 23
Maxim could tell Raven was getting tired soon after having a good amount of blood, and to make things easier, so was Jason.
“I should go back to the dorm at some point,” Jason said, flicking the now-empty shot glass of blood Clement had allowed him.
Clement sniffed. “Pah. Temporary housing. It’s barbaric.”
Jason grinned at the Lar. “Actually, it’s convenient. And I’d never have met Raven if it weren’t for the dorm, so that’s nice. Although maybe we would’ve met through the power of queer friendship. Right, Raven?”
“You’d have found me, if only to reel me in to help with your party planning.”
Jason nodded. “It’s true.”
Maxim crossed his legs. “Jason, you have such hidden skills. Party planning?”
“Honestly, I just buy booze and invite fun people. I’m a little bit like Clement, only not as grumpy.”
Clement very nearly frowned—Maxim saw that, but in the last moment, the Lar shifted the expression into a glowering stare.
“Clement is actually quite an outgoing Lar and quite calm, considering Bryan guards this home.”
Clement offered Maxim an unambiguous glare. “Is that so, master hunter? Then why present tangerines to that babe of a Lar and leave me with scraps when my outgoingness is to be commended?”
Maxim felt Raven’s rapt attention on the conversation, possibly because he was picking up on Clement’s emotions, no matter how much the Lar was attempting to hide them.
Maxim sighed and lowered his head. “Well, you are correct. You have tended to this bar so well, and never has a drinker wanted for conversation or your gentle attention. Isn’t that so, Jason?”
“Mr. Vallois, I think you’re looking to throw me under a bus, only I can’t see the bus yet and didn’t know there was one until two seconds ago.”
Maxim put a hand over his heart. “Me? Oh, Jason, I would never.” Umeboshi, who possibly was part demon, decided to weigh in with a melodramatic whine. “Even Ume hears the truth in my words.”
“Maybe he wants dinner,” Raven said.
Maxim tsked. “Oh, youth. Food is your comfort and a soft bed your only desire. I shall offer you all of that. Say, Clement, instead of a tangerine or three, would you be willing to find Jason a bed for the night? Make sure his room is aired and all that?”
Clement’s sharp features softened marginally. “I don’t shy away from a guardian’s chores.”
Jason raised a hand. “Uh, excuse me.”
“The night is dark and cold, and shadows thicken. You must stay here until the morning.” Maxim gripped Jason’s shoulder.
“Mr. Vallois, do you want me to walk the dog again in the morning? It’s no problem. I get that sunlight isn’t going to be fun for Raven for a while.”
“I’m fine, actually,” Raven said.
Maxim clapped his hands. “It’s settled, then. Jason, let Clement find you a bed, Ume can walk you in the morning, and that way everyone can get some rest.”
Jason yawned. “I’m fine with that, actually. Rave, you staying up in the penthouse? Or want to bunk down with me?”
Maxim forced himself to tip his mug of blood back once more even though there was barely a drop left. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Raven shift in his seat, then slide off it.
“The penthouse is okay.”
Jason nodded. “Cool. See you in the morning, then.”
“Indeed, and a good night to you. Raven, you are quite full?” Maxim said.
The fledge nodded. “Yeah. It’s…nice. Not too bad. The blood, I mean. It’s not too bad drinking it.”
“Ah, how good to hear.”
They took a bowl of dog food upstairs with them, and Maxim left the downstairs area of the penthouse to Raven and the dog, retreating to his office and leaving the door open so he could listen. It didn’t take Raven long to climb back into bed, and from the sounds of it, Umeboshi followed.
Perhaps he knows Raven needs protecting in his sleep right now.
Maxim waited until he was reasonably certain that they were both sleeping before sneaking downstairs and to the elevators, which opened silently thanks to Bryan’s precise hold on everything in the building.
Maxim made his way to the basement, allowing the noose he’d slipped over his emotions to loosen ever so slightly as he exited the elevator on that hidden level, then went down the stairs and through the security door.
Once he entered the hallway with the cells, he heard singing from the far end, low and not keeping with the tempo.
“Ring a ring o’ rosies,
A pocket full of posies.
Ashes, ashes,
We all fall down!”
Even now, the professor’s voice was teasing. He’d be able to hear Maxim approaching, no doubt.
Maxim had lived for a long time, and his vampire mother had taught him the easy yet useless temptation of wild anger, of furious revenge and the rage it could beget.
For centuries, Maxim hadn’t even considered that he might strike another in anger, and yet…
Hearing Raven’s tormentor sing a nursery rhyme while Raven himself was sheltering from nightmares induced a long-buried fury in Maxim’s blood.
He took his time walking toward the cell at the end of the hallway, checking on the werewolf first. Shatterproof glass allowed Maxim to see the entire cell at a glance. The werewolf was asleep now, shivering, a tray of food sitting untouched on the floor.
If he isn’t faking it, this might mean he’s been regularly compelled for a long time. Or he was drugged. Possibly a combination of the two.
The implications of that… Maxim wasn’t quite sure. It was rare, if not unheard of. Rare because not all werewolves were susceptible to compulsion, not unheard of because some were and had met the wrong vampire in their time.
Maxim pulled out his phone to text Gordon.
Doctor, while I understand your passion is for the dead, could you recommend someone who might be able to examine a living werewolf? I have one locked up, and I’d like him looked at.
It didn’t take long for Gordon to text back.
You mean the day shifter? In your basement dungeon?
The very same.
Did he have an unfortunate accident?
Would that it were so. I’d like to make sure he wasn’t drugged.
This time around, Maxim had to wait longer for the response. He could imagine what was happening on the other end, Detective Adler’s reaction at the thought of letting his mate examine this dangerous werewolf. Yet, doubtless, if Gordon wanted to do it, not even his mate was going to stop him.
Is tomorrow good for you? Not in the morning.
Oh, Gordon, sleeping in? I fully approve. Whenever you’re free and the detective is sated shall be wonderful.
How’s Raven?
Maxim, for once, didn’t know how to answer. He knew the answer, knew it intimately, but how to convey it? In this moment, with Highgate still singing his nursery rhyme at the end of the hallway, Maxim wasn’t sure how to convey it at all.
Asleep
It was the best he could do.
Behind that other cell door, the chant had changed.
“Bring a ring of pretties,
My lovely, lovely pretties,
Kisses, kisses,
You must bow down!”
It wasn’t a variant of the original Maxim was familiar with, but he could see how someone who styled himself a writer, a crafter of mysteries, would want to impress.
I am not impressed. Anger rides me, and I am not impressed.
Maxim couldn’t bring himself to move forward, couldn’t, because he feared what he might do if he went to that cell.
If he opened the door. He lives for what he can give us, not for what shallow pleasure torturing him would give anyone.
He is evidence. He is useful alive. Whatever knowledge he has might save someone.
“I see you are keeping yourself entertained,” Maxim said, his voice as flat as he could manage. “How pleasing our acoustics must be if you feel moved to song. I’ll leave you to it. May thirst find you and keep you company.”
The singing had fallen to humming, but it picked up again, louder now. It was as if Highgate was trying to chase him away with his cruel rhymes, but Maxim walked slowly.
Darkness might soothe him, Maxim thought on his way up the stairs that led to the elevator. He texted Bryan, asking him to brighten the lights in Highgate’s cell and not turn them down for the foreseeable future.
Done
Bryan’s response eased some of Maxim’s rage.