Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
Simon's pocket felt like it held burning coal.
The prescription bottle pressed against his ribs with each step, a constant reminder of the dose he'd skipped that morning.
Thirty-six hours now since his last pills.
Long enough that the edges of things seemed sharper.
Colors more vivid. The city's nighttime assault of neon and streetlights didn't hurt yet, but it would soon.
Worth it, though. If they found the pack that turned Charlie…
If things went sideways, he needed every advantage.
Charlie walked beside him, drowning in Simon's hoodie. The sleeves hung past his fingertips, and he kept pushing them up, only for them to slide down again. He looked like a kid wearing his older brother's clothes.
He looked vulnerable.
Simon's jaw tightened. That was the problem, wasn't it? Charlie looked nothing like the monsters Simon hunted. Even now, knowing what he was, watching those fangs descend earlier, Simon kept cataloging all the ways Charlie failed at being a vampire.
All the ways he was making Simon fail at being a hunter.
Reuben would have Simon's head for this. Not just for lying—though that was bad enough—but for the doubt creeping through his thoughts like poison. Simon had built his life on one simple truth: vampires were monsters that needed eliminating.
All of them.
His mother's blood on their apartment floor had taught him that.
So why was Charlie still living his undead life?
Because Simon did not yet know everything there was to know about him.
Oblivious to Simon's thoughts, Charlie kept trudging along. "Is it always this loud?" the small vampire's voice barely carried over the Friday night chaos spilling from the bars they passed.
"It's Friday night in the city. What did you expect?"
"I don't know. I guess I never noticed before." Charlie winced as someone slammed a car door nearby. "Everything's just... more."
Enhanced senses. Simon knew that particular burden well.
The pills dulled it usually, kept the overwhelming input at manageable levels.
But now, with the suppressants wearing off, he could feel his awareness expanding.
Every conversation on the street came through crystal clear.
Every heartbeat in their vicinity registered like a drum.
Including Charlie's.
It was faster than it should be. Anxious.
Good. He should be anxious walking around with a hunter. Though, disturbingly, Simon didn't think he was the source of Charlie's anxiety. If anything, the vampire drifted closer to him the more anxious he got.
As if he expected Simon to protect him.
A ridiculous notion.
Except, of course, that Simon had already protected this kid's pathetic existence by hiding his whereabouts from his mentor.
Simon shoved the thought aside as they turned onto Maple Street and the dive bar sprawl hit them full force. Five bars in three blocks, each trying to be grungier than the last. Rosie's sat in the middle like the drunk uncle of the family, unapologetically seedy and proud of it.
"I haven't been back here since..." Charlie stopped walking.
Since he was turned. Simon could see it in the way Charlie's shoulders hunched, the way his hands disappeared completely into the hoodie sleeves.
"You don't have to go in," Simon said, surprising himself. "I can question people myself."
Charlie looked up at him, and even with the hood shadowing his face, Simon caught the glint of determination.
"No. I need to know why he did it. Why me." Charlie squared his shoulders as best he could while drowning in borrowed clothes. "I need to know if I was just random bad luck or if there was a reason."
Simon supposed that was fair.
He'd often asked himself a very similar question.
But now was not the time to ponder his fate. He approached the door to the bar. "You ready?"
Charlie nodded, pushing the hood back slightly. His brown eyes caught the neon from Rosie's sign, making them glow amber for a moment. "Let's go find some vampires."
The casual way he said it, like he wasn't one himself, like they were partners in this…
Simon shook his head.
Would this vampire ever cease to make him wonder?
"What?" Charlie asked, noticing Simon's gaze.
"Nothing." Simon headed into the bar.
Inside, Rosie's was exactly as Simon expected—sticky floors, music too loud, lighting too dim, and a crowd that ranged from college kids slumming it to regulars who'd been drinking here since before Charlie was born.
The smell hit overwhelmingly hard: spilled beer, fried food, sweat, and underneath it all, blood.
Hundreds of hearts pumping alcohol-thinned blood through vulnerable veins.
Charlie made a small sound beside him.
"You good?"
"There's so many," Charlie whispered, and Simon knew he didn't mean people. He meant heartbeats. Meals. Temptations.
Simon wasn't going to let him feed. "Stay close."
They pushed through the crowd toward the bar. Simon kept Charlie slightly ahead of him, one hand hovering near the vampire's lower back. Not touching, but ready to grab him if he bolted. Or attacked. Though watching Charlie apologize his way through the crowd made the latter seem unlikely.
"Sorry, excuse me, sorry, could I just—sorry!"
At the bar, Simon ordered a beer he wouldn't drink and watched Charlie try to figure out what to do with his hands. He kept pulling the sleeves down, pushing them up, tugging the hood forward, pushing it back. Fidgeting like a teenager at his first house party.
"Relax," Simon said. "You're drawing attention."
"I don't know how to stand. Do I lean? Do I put my hands in the pockets? There's too many people and they all smell like—" Charlie cut himself off, color rising in his cheeks.
Like food. They all smelled like food to him.
Simon was about to respond when a woman appeared at Charlie's side. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with her blonde hair in that deliberately messy style and her dress too short for the season. Her friends giggled behind her, clearly responsible for whatever dare had sent her Charlie's way.
"Oh my god, you're adorable," she announced, sliding between Charlie and the bar. "Like a sad puppy in a hoodie."
Charlie went rigid. "I—what?"
She reached up and tugged at the hood's edge. "Are you hiding? That's so cute. Are you shy?"
"No, I'm just… personal space?" Charlie tried to step back but hit the person behind him. "Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Don't apologize!" The woman pressed closer, her hand finding Charlie's arm. "Confidence is sexy. Although the whole nervous thing is kind of working for you."
Simon watched Charlie's eyes go wide with panic. The vampire's gaze darted to the woman's neck, then away, then back to Simon with a clear plea for help.
"My friends think you're cute too." She gestured behind her, where three women were watching and laughing. "But I saw you first, so..."
"That's very... flattering?" Charlie's voice cracked. "But um…"
She leaned in, getting closer to his face. Her neck stretched right past Charlie's mouth. Simon saw the exact moment Charlie stopped breathing entirely, his whole body locking up like someone had flipped his off switch.
"You smell really good," she said. "Like... leather and something else..."
That was Simon's hoodie she was smelling. His scent on Charlie.
"I have a medical condition," Charlie blurted out, trying to lean away. "It's highly contagious. You should probably—"
"Is it the kind where you can't kiss anyone?" She smiled, clearly thinking this was flirting. "Because that would be tragic."
Her fingers walked up Charlie's arm to his shoulder. Charlie's fangs—Simon could see it happening—started descending despite Charlie's visible effort to stop them. His mouth clamped shut so fast Simon heard his teeth click.
"Mmmph," Charlie managed through closed lips.
"What was that?" She leaned closer.
Charlie's eyes found Simon's again, desperate now. His whole face screamed 'help me' while trying to smile with his mouth firmly closed. The effect was demented.
Still with his mouth closed, he tried to speak. "I cad't—I deed to—"
"Are you okay?" She actually looked concerned now. "You're breathing weird."
That was because Charlie wasn't breathing at all.
Simon moved.
"There you are, babe." He slid an arm around Charlie's waist, pulling him firmly against his side. "I've been looking everywhere."
The woman blinked, looking between them. Charlie made another strangled sound.
"Oh." Her face fell. "Oh, you're—"
"Very taken," Simon said, his tone pleasant but final. "Have a good night."
She retreated to her friends, who immediately surrounded her with consolation and shots. Simon kept his arm around Charlie, who was vibrating like a tuning fork against his side.
"Breathe," Simon ordered quietly.
Charlie sucked in air like he'd been drowning. "Her neck was right there. Right there. She smelled like vodka and I could hear her pulse and…"
"But you didn't bite her."
"I wanted to. God, I wanted to." Charlie's voice was shaky. "Is that what it's always going to be like? Will I always be struggling with this need?"
"Yes."
The simple answer seemed to steady Charlie more than platitudes would have. He sagged slightly into Simon's hold, and Simon realized he still had his arm around the vampire's waist. He should let go. He was going to let go.
He didn't let go.
"Thank you," Charlie mumbled into Simon's shoulder. "For the rescue."
"You looked like you were about to either bite her or have a panic attack."
"Both. Definitely both." Charlie pulled back slightly, looking up at him. The hood had fallen back completely now, exposing Charlie's too-innocent features. "The boyfriend thing was quick thinking."
"It was efficient." But Simon still didn't remove his arm. Charlie fit against his side too easily, and with his senses heightened from the skipped pills, Simon was hyperaware of every point of contact. The way Charlie unconsciously leaned into him. The rapid flutter of his not-quite-alive heart.
This was a mistake. All of it.
"We should move," Simon said, but before he could act on it, a voice cut through the bar noise.
"Well, well. Simon Hale."