Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Andrew
I lunge forward and catch Noah just as he topples out of his chair. From the way his heartbeat and breathing were settling, I was pretty sure he was either going into a deep meditative state—which isn’t impossible but seemed unlikely so quickly—or falling asleep.
Looks like option number two won.
“Huh? What?” He blinks up at me, then jerks himself out of my hands so hard, his chair slides back on its castors. “What the fuck?”
I go back to my chair and calmly seat myself. “You fell asleep.”
For a second it looks like he’s going to argue with me, but then he huffs. “Fucking meditation. I can’t believe I fell asleep sitting up.”
Part of me wishes I’d let him tumble out of his chair—and used my phone to record it. That’s the part that wants revenge for the “accident” earlier. The responsible part of me that our people’s leaders look to for advice and protection is glad I did the right thing.
That’s my boring side. Such a buzzkill. Eats vegetables and washes the dishes right away instead of leaving them to soak.
“Do you want to try again?” I suggest. “This time I’ll focus more on visualization and less on breathing.
” He really needs this, I think. Noah is so self-contained and prickly that it’s easy to forget he’s been through major trauma.
Plus, he’s only just twenty years old. Sure, he’s an adult who’s shown more maturity and self-possession than most people gain in a lifetime, but he’s still had to deal with a lot in his short life.
Which is why I will definitely be investigating the incident I witnessed this afternoon. If anyone is bullying Noah—or bullying anyone, period—it’s going to stop.
And that has nothing to do with the fact that our very short kiss had the same effect on me as a bolt of lightning.
Noah’s settled in a relaxed pose again, although his posture is just a tiny bit tense, as usual. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s do this.” He slams his eyes closed.
I bite back a smile and begin taking him through one of my favorite visualization exercises.
Sam was really surprised when he found out how huge a part of daily vampire life meditation is, but it’s always made sense to me.
We stretch and exercise and care for our physical bodies, and it’s important to do the same for our minds—especially since we traditionally use mental abilities to survive.
I watch Noah visibly relax throughout the meditation, and by the time I’m done, twenty minutes later, he’s much more comfortable in his body.
It’s worth the dry throat from talking. Leaving him to come back to reality at his own pace, I quietly go get myself some water—and grab another bottle for him, although thinking about it, he’s already had two bottles and probably needs to piss.
Sure enough, when he opens his eyes and blinks at me, he says, “I really need the bathroom,” in a surprised voice.
“There’s one down the hall, remember? Easy getting up…
Do you want me to come with you?” That earns me a fulminating glare and obviously clears some of the fog in his brain.
He leaves while I congratulate myself on being such a good meditation guide that he didn’t even notice he had to use the bathroom until I was done.
I finish my water and have started rearranging the conference table and chairs by the time he gets back.
“Do you need help— Why am I even asking?” he mutters, going to where I’ve left his water on the credenza.
“Almost done, but thanks,” I say cheerfully. “How are you feeling?”
He takes a slug of water and seems to be thinking about it.
“Good. Relaxed.” That note of surprise is back in his voice.
“Great. Do you have any guided meditation recordings or…?” I trail off as he shakes his head.
“Okay. There’s a few apps that are really good.
If you’re going to be using mental abilities, you need to look after your mental health.
Since you should be practicing with charisma daily, it’d be a good idea to start the day with a short meditation and then end it the same way.
Just fifteen or twenty minutes when you wake up and before you go to sleep. ”
He looks less than impressed by the idea, but this is important, so I inject a note of steel when I add, “It’s nonnegotiable.
I won’t teach you any more if you’re not doing all your homework.
You wouldn’t go for a run without stretching before and after.
This is the same.” I know he likes to run; David says he’s often in the office gym, using the treadmill, and has run with him a few times on nearby tracks.
“Fine.” He’s not happy about it, but he pulls out his phone and hands it over. “Which apps?”
His phone is a surprisingly basic model, and it takes me a second to work out how to use it.
I find the apps and tap to download, then grab his hand when the phone requests a code.
His skin is warm, and the flex of muscle in my grip is absurdly arousing.
I can’t remember the last time I held someone’s hand, even platonically like this.
Maybe I am getting old.
I hand his phone back and paste on the smirk that seems to irritate him the most. “Ready? Go get your stuff. Sam and the others will be waiting.” I glance out the conference room window.
It’s fully dark outside, and I’m sure the office will be nearly deserted.
I may have gotten a little carried away with this experiment.
I’ll have to keep a closer eye on the clock next time.
As we leave the conference room, he says, “You don’t need to wait for me. I know the way to Sam and Gideon’s place.”
I laugh in his face. “Nice try. If I turn up there without you, Sam will hurt me.”
He shrugs. “So?”
See? The others all fuss over him like he’s breakable, and sure, he needs some time and space to recover from his PTSD, but he’s not exactly the sweet young man they all think.
“Sam would be sad,” I try. “Even if you don’t ditch the party, if I turn up without you, he’ll worry that you’re not going to come.
You don’t want to make Sam worry, do you?
” It’s more a taunt than anything else. I think he feels a bit guilty about the fact that Sam frets over him while he really doesn’t care that much about Sam’s feelings.
Or at least that’s what he’s convinced himself.
He sets his jaw and stays silent, but when we get to the intersection where I need to go right to reach the elevator and he needs to go left, he says, “Fine, but hurry up.” There’s an implied threat that if I’m not fast enough, he’s leaving without me.
I don’t bother to answer, just make for the stairs… at vampire speed. I’ll be back before he gets back from his desk, even if he runs. Foolish human, challenging me. Doesn’t he know yet that I’m a mighty vampire and he’s a puny human?
Yeouch. When did I start sounding like a cartoon supervillain?
Regardless, I’ve grabbed my stuff and am leaning against the wall by the elevator on Noah’s floor, looking all casual and bored, when he races into view. He comes to a skidding halt when he sees me, and I smile at him.
“Ready? I’m glad you didn’t rush. Although, really, given how short your lifespan is, you probably shouldn’t dawdle quite so much.”
He ignores me and jabs the elevator call button.
Sam and Gideon’s place is close to the office—just a fifteen or so minute walk.
Noah doesn’t say a single word to me the whole way.
Not saying I don’t deserve it, but given everything we’ve been through this afternoon—bleeding wounds, blood kiss, maiming, charisma, and anything I’ve forgotten—he could at least talk to me.
By the time we reach their doorstep, I’ve decided it’s funny. I wonder how long he can keep it up? And what should I do to make him crack?
He reaches for the doorbell, and I laugh. “Really? Do you want to make Sam cry?” I grab the doorknob and twist. Sure enough, the door opens. “It’s a party, Noah. They’re expecting us.”
He scowls but follows me in, watching as I close the door behind us. “It’s not safe to leave it unlocked,” he mutters.
Is he really still so ignorant?
“David’s warded this place from top to bottom.
Gideon had him bring some friends and do the kind of heavy-duty wards used to protect royalty and sacred cultural treasures.
Nobody can get into this building unless they’ve been coded into the wards and have no kind of ill intent toward Sam or Gideon.
And when they activate the privacy wards, nobody can get in except them. That really bugs Alistair.”
Noah just stands there, blinking.
“What really bugs me?” the voice of my favorite nemesis says, and I look over my shoulder to where Alistair is standing in the doorway to the living room.
“The privacy wards,” I tell him, and he scowls.
“It’s a travesty! Gideon is deliberately trying to keep me out! Everyone knows shifters are supposed to wander wherever they want—no lock can keep us out. It’s our destiny to come and go from all places as friends—”
“Wards,” Noah whispers, and somehow the sound cuts through Alistair’s ridiculous tirade about shifters’ destiny to enter homes uninvited. Hellhounds are so hard to get used to.
When I turn back to Noah, he’s pale and wide-eyed.
“What?” I ask sharply, taking two steps forward and grabbing his arm. “What’s wrong?”
He stares at me blankly for a second, then shakes his head. “Nothing. Sorry. Just… I didn’t know about wards. I-I wish I had.” Pulling away from me, he turns to look at the front door. “So they’re… just there? Invisible? How do they work?”
“Dark sorcery,” Alistair mutters dourly, and thankfully, the drama of it all seems to bring Noah back to himself, because he bursts out laughing.
“You should talk to David,” I tell him, smiling. “He’ll be able to explain exactly how they work. I’ve never bothered to learn the details myself.”
Noah tsks. “That’s dangerous. You literally just walked through them, and you don’t know how they work?”