Chapter 8 Tobias
TOBIAS
Ifollow Rowen down the stairs, my arms folded and fingers playing with the hems of my long sleeves.
The noise coming from below is warm and inviting, easing the knot in my stomach.
At least I know what to expect this time, having been down here once already.
When we exit the hall and turn the corner to where the living room meets the kitchen and dining room, I am not as overwhelmed as I expected.
Two women occupy the kitchen—one with long dark hair and another with shorter hair that is partially tucked under a red bandana. Across from them at the bar is a man reading from a book while drinking from a mug. Two men are at the dining table. I recognize Sage, but I don’t know the other one.
The rest are in the living room, relaxing on sofas next to a large Christmas tree. My breath catches when I see the bright lights and beautiful hand-painted ornaments. Evidence of a home full of love and warmth.
I’ve felt that warmth ever since I arrived.
As they notice me, a few people walk over, eager to meet me. Rowen introduces each one. “This is my mother, Jasmine, and my sister, Ivy. That’s Taren and her mate, Neal. The little one in her arms is Aster.”
The little boy ducks his face against his mother’s chest, clearly unsure of me.
“Hi.” My voice sounds too soft, so I clear my throat and try again. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.”
Jasmine gives me a smile that could thaw a frozen river. “We’re glad you’re here, Tobias.”
Glad I’m here? I don’t know what to do with that. So I nod awkwardly, trying to keep my hands from fidgeting.
She tilts her head. “Would you like some tea to settle your nerves?”
My laugh comes out thin. “I’m too full from the stew.” Then, not wanting to appear rude, I add quickly, “Maybe later?”
She cups my shoulder and returns to the kitchen.
Taren’s amber eyes rarely leave me, teeth scraping over her lower lip. I wish she’d follow Jasmine. I don’t like the way she’s studying me.
Rowen nudges me toward the table. “You know Sage already, but this is Grant, our second in command. He’s the boss when Forest isn’t around. Which, honestly, isn’t that often.”
Everyone chuckles.
Grant nods at me with kind blue eyes. His presence is firm and no-nonsense, yet somehow reassuring. On the table in front of them are several boxes of high-tech security cameras and instruction manuals.
“Doing okay, Tobias?” Sage asks.
I struggle to find my voice, so I just nod, tugging at my sleeves again.
Another woman appears from the hall, pausing when she sees me. She’s much older than the others, with graying blond hair and a warm smile. “You must be the other human crashing the pack’s party.”
I swallow thickly, guilt pressing down.
The woman laughs. “Sorry, that was a poorly timed joke. I’m Evelyn.” She holds her hand out to me, but when I reach out to shake it, the woman surprises me by pulling me in for a long, tight hug. The affection is so unexpected I freeze. She rubs my back. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.”
When she finally walks away, Rowen explains, “Evelyn is Evan’s mother. She’s a hugger. She hugs everyone.”
I do a quick tally in my head. Only one left, if I ignore the vampire. “Where’s the alpha?” I ask.
Rowen tips his head in a follow-me gesture.
Behind the wall with the fireplace, a long hall leads to four separate rooms. Rowen knocks on the first door, which is already open. “Forest?”
The man at the desk looks up, and something in me cowers. Definitely an alpha’s presence. “Ah, Tobias, I’m guessing. Come in.”
I glance at Rowen, but he nudges me forward.
“How are you doing?”
I bite my lip. “I-I don’t know,” I say, going for blunt honesty. “Overwhelmed. Tired.”
His eyes soften as he smiles. “Yes, I suppose so. I hope you’re getting rest. Red says you’re healing remarkably well, all things considered.”
I tug at my sleeves again, trying to cover the thick scars around each wrist. I don’t know what to say, so I just nod again.
“I know it can be a shock to wake up here and not know us, but I want to assure you, we are your allies. You can trust us,” Forest says softly.
So everyone keeps telling me.
“You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need.
The only thing I ask is if you know anything at all about the coven, that you tell us as soon as possible.
We’re trying to track them down, and after the mess at the nightclub, I’m afraid we might never find them.
” He waits expectantly, as if I might spill some secrets right there, but everything I know I’ve already told them. At least, everything I can remember.
“I’ll try,” I say. “It’s… kind of a blur, though.”
His lips press together, and when he folds his arms on the desk, I notice his left arm has a slight permanent kink to it. “How long did you spend with them?”
I look around, hoping for some clue about what date it is. “What day is it? Like, month, I mean.”
“It’s November 27th,” he says.
My stomach tightens, and I grip the back of a leather chair in front of me. November 27th? Fuck. I knew it was close to Christmas, but knowing the exact date is like a punch to the gut. It makes it real.
My vision blurs, my knees shake, and I struggle to stay standing.
Rowen steadies me with an arm around my back. “You okay?”
No. No, I’m not okay. If today is November 27th, that means I was in the club… I was tied to that stage, forced to dance, forced to… feed those monsters for three and a half months. Three long months where I thought I’d never escape.
“Toby?” Rowen’s soft voice reaches me.
I focus on his face, using it as an anchor to pull me out of the shock. Shakily, I straighten and look at the alpha again, hoping he hasn’t completely written me off.
“Thr—” I clear my throat and try again. “Three and a half months.”
I hear a soft gasp from Rowen, but keep my gaze on the alpha. He’s the one who granted me permission to stay. I don’t want to do anything to change that.
Forest seems just as stunned as I feel. “I’m… I’m so sorry to hear that,” he says quietly. “I expected a few days. Not months.”
“So did I,” I blurt, tears brimming in my vision. Fuck, how stupid was I to get myself into that mess. I never should’ve gone to them to begin with.
The men exchange a look, and Forest sinks into his chair again. “When you’re ready, Tobias, I’d like to hear how you ended up there. It might help us understand something. See their motive. I’d also like to know about that mark on your shoulder.”
I slam my eyes shut. The damn mark. They keep asking about it. I hate it. I hate the man who put it there.
When I say nothing, Rowen pulls me back toward the hall. It isn’t until we’re back in the living room that I realize I haven’t seen the vampire anywhere. I look around again, searching for his dark hair, but he isn’t here.
“I’m getting a drink. Would you like one?” Rowen asks.
I shake my head.
He disappears into the kitchen. I shuffle my feet, looking around and feeling very, very out of place. Who am I to invade these people’s home? How can they be okay with me being here—especially with the danger I bring to their doorstep?
The room hums with quiet conversation, but my mind is too busy to listen to any of it.
I stand in front of the fireplace, admiring the row of hand-carved figurines.
There must be nearly three dozen of them, all shapes and sizes.
Trees, wolves, a deer, and even a tiny raccoon.
The little fox hiding behind a log catches my eye.
It looks as scared and out of place as I feel.
“It’s Christmas Palooza around here,” Rowen says, returning to me. He’s holding a glass of milk, looking clearly unhappy about the fact that his home has been invaded by snowmen and tinsel.
“Did someone make these?”
“My dad, actually.”
“They’re beautiful.” I crack a smile. “I love Christmas. Or, I did anyway. I was kind of a workaholic before… well, before things changed.”
Last year, before I became sick, I spent the holiday at my friend Logan’s, but before that, for five years, I was too busy to enjoy the holidays.
“Doing what?” he asks.
I hesitate, shifting uncomfortably. It always hurts to think about my past. “I owned a photography business. I took family photos and things like that.”
I touch the garland, heart aching. Where is Logan now? Or Kennedy? My entire circle of people who supposedly cared about me. They all vanished the moment it happened.
A child’s laughter makes us turn. Aster is chasing Ivy with a foam bat, and she’s doing her best to dodge his swings.
As they run by the table, Aster whacks Sage in the arm and, to my surprise, the beefy, stoic man melts against the table, playing dead.
Aster giggles hysterically, whacking Grant next.
Grant slumps in his seat, arms splayed. Clearly, this isn’t their first go-around with the little boy.
I grin. “How old is he?”
“A little over three. He keeps us on our toes.”
“I can tell. He’s adorable.”
The front door opens, and Evan walks through quickly followed by Jericho. I take a step back before I even realize what I’m doing. Run. Vampire.
But Evan’s words echo in my head, louder than my fear and clearer than anything else.
He hates what he is, Tobias.
He’s a good man.
He never would’ve left you with those assholes if he could’ve helped you.
Can I trust that?
When he sees me, Jericho pauses halfway through closing the door. His shoulders lower slightly, eyes darting down and away. And I realize Evan is right. Jericho is ashamed of what he is.
My muscles still scream for me to run, to get as far away from him as I can, but I choose not to. I stay—leaning into Rowen maybe and shaking like a leaf, but I’m still here.
Baby steps, right?
Rowen bumps me a little. “You okay?”
I don’t answer him. I honestly don’t know.
“I found it,” Jericho says, placing something on the table. “I told you. It’s unrelated.”
Taren rushes over, snagging the paper with wide eyes. After scanning it, her shoulders slump. “Dammit.”
Rowen walks over. “What is it?”
“Just a receipt from the club. Taren thought the logo might have something to do with…” Jericho pauses, looking at me.
A few more heads turn, as if someone had turned a bright light on me.
Taren sighs. “I thought their logo might have something to do with Tobias’ mark,” she says plainly. “But their website is gone. They removed all evidence of the club from the internet. So I couldn’t be sure without seeing it.”
My heart skitters. My mark?
Jericho shakes his head. “I told you. Foxx bought the club from someone else. They’re unrelated.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
I walk toward a stack of books on the floor by the window, noting a few sketches spread out across the table. My heart thuds wildly, blood draining from my face. Two of them look similar to the brand on my shoulder. “What is this?”
Taren presses a hand to her chest. “We’ve been trying to understand your mark.”
Fear slices through me. Are they using me to get to the coven? Is that all this is?
My fingers tighten around my arm, right over the place where the mark burns faintly beneath the fabric. “You’re studying me?” I snap.
“We just want to know what it’s about,” Taren says. “So we know if it’s dangerous or—”
I yank my shirt down over my shoulder. “This? You want to know about this?” Taren’s eyes go wide, but I continue.
“You want to know how two months ago, Rip drugged me and painted this on my shoulder with his blood? How Orem used his magic to seal it? Is that what you want to know? He burned it into me. He told me—Orem told me it will never go away. That I, for as long as I am alive, belong to him.”
“To who?” Grant asks.
“Rip. I’m his.”
“His… what, exactly?”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know. He never explained it or gave me a choice in the matter. Just said it made me his. From then on, only Rip drank from me. He treated me like I was his… pet. Or servant. Whatever. But I never left that stage except to pee or shower.”
For a long moment, everyone is silent, their expressions grim and deeply alarmed.
“He created it with blood?” Taren asks, sounding horrified.
I pull my shirt up, avoiding everyone’s gaze now. “Yes.”
Her small hand clenches into a fist. “Does it hurt you? Or have control over you?”
“No. It hasn’t done a damn thing except burn all the time.”
Taren nods once, her voice low. “Thank you, Tobias. This helps. I’m… really sorry. If I find anything, I’ll tell you, okay? I promise.”
“We’re going to find a way to remove the mark,” Grant explains. “Assuming that’s what you want.”
I exhale deeply. “I never wanted it to begin with!”
My eyes snap to Jericho as something else Evan said comes back to me. He never wanted this.
I hate that I have something in common with a vampire. It actually makes me understand him.
The air feels thick now. Colder. Folding my arms over my chest, I walk away. I consider going back upstairs, but honestly, I’m sick of that room and I don’t want to be alone anymore. I need to be around people. Even if they hate me now.
I slump at the end of the couch closest to the Christmas tree and stare at the lights, having absolutely no idea how I’m going to get out of this.