Chapter 1 #2
Noah says something through gritted teeth that not even my hellhound hearing can make out, but given the murderous expression on his face, that’s probably just as well.
I’m sure it would hurt my feelings, and then he’d regret it later and have to deal with the crushing pile of guilt as well as everything else he’s got on his plate.
I finish up my workout and watch quietly as Noah strains through the last of his.
It’s hard for me to tell, because I’ve never been good at judging human strength capabilities, but he seems to be doing really well.
Since the last time I was here, he's definitely made progress.
Part of that is probably because Andrew is constantly shoving nutrient-rich protein bars in his hand.
Speaking of Andrew…
Right on cue, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
The team has talked at great length about our oldest member’s inability to stop fretting over Noah—it’s out of character for the ordinarily laissez-faire eight-hundred-year-old vampire.
On the other hand, when you’ve waited nearly nine centuries to fall in love and then your love is almost killed doing something that’s supposed to be impossible, it stands to reason that you might become a little paranoid.
I pull out my phone and read the text.
Andrew:
How’s it going? Is he nearly finished? Does he need me to come and help him with his shower?
I roll my eyes.
We still haven’t finished that conversation about why you were KEEPING SECRETS from me, your beloved secondary best friend.
Again with this crap? Just tell me how Noah is. Should I come down there?
It’s shocking how you managed to keep your feelings for Noah HIDDEN from us all for so long, especially me, your beloved secondary best friend.
I’m coming down there.
Noah’s fine. He’s swearing like he invented the words and nearly done. Now let’s talk about how deception is a terrible thing for a secondary best friendship.
Does he need me to come and help him with his shower?
And what even is a secondary best friendship?
Do you remember what happened last time you insisted on coming to help with his shower? I’m not asking him in case he decides to turn that wrath on me. If he needs help, he’ll say so.
How can you deny our secondary best friendship like this? You wound me. It’s like a knife right through my heart.
I’m not denying anything—yet. I just don’t know what it is. Did you make it up or is it some weird hellhound thing?
MAKE IT UP??? Make up only the second most powerful type of friendship there is? Oh, if only I wielded that kind of power!
Okay, it’s been fun, but if Noah doesn’t need me, I actually do have work to do. Stay biped while he’s in the shower in case he falls or something—DO NOT let me hear about you chasing your tail or licking your balls while my boyfriend needs help.
You’re just jealous you can’t lick your balls.
“Is that Andrew?”
I look up at Noah. He’s standing in front of me, sweaty and mussed, while his physio is putting away the equipment they used.
“Yep.” I turn the phone around to show him. “Don’t worry, he’s not coming down unless you ask him to.”
Noah shakes his head. “I love him, but sometimes I want to smother him with a pillow the way he’s smothering me with concern.”
I smile. “Aww. You should have that printed on one of those fancy wall stickers and put it on the wall in your bedroom. You could have the outline of a heart around it with the heading True Love.”
He rolls his eyes and huffs, but there’s a tiny hint of a smile on his mouth. “I’m going to shower.”
I fall in step beside him, slowing my usual pace to match his slightly shaky one. “Me too. Although your vampire Daddy says I’m not allowed to shift and lick my balls in the locker room in case you need me to—”
He stops so sharply that I take two more steps before I even realize and turn back. There’s a look of horror on his face that has me scanning for the threat.
Nothing.
“What?” I ask, and he sputters.
“I… what… I don’t even know where to start! Wait, yes, I do—don’t you ever call Andrew that again. My vampire Daddy ? What the fuck have you been snorting?”
“Oh, come on! What else should I call it? He’s a much older—much much older—man who insists on taking care of you. And he’s a vampire. It fits perfectly.”
His glare is terrifying, even though I can see the slight tremor racing through his exhausted muscles. I prudently take a step back. He hasn’t been using the magic during his recovery, since nobody’s sure if it would hinder him, but I’m fully aware he’s capable of throwing fireballs if he wants to.
“He insists on taking care of me because I almost died , you nutjob, and I still barely have the strength to get through the day.” His expression changes suddenly, and he sighs.
“Maybe I shouldn’t smother him after all,” he concedes.
“You’re still an asshole, though. Do you really lick your own balls? And in a public place?”
Snorting, I offer him an arm to lean on as we continue to the locker room.
It’s not far—the staff gym attached to CSG is small—but he’s pushed himself pretty hard this morning and probably needs to sit down for a bit.
“You only wish you could lick your own balls. All you people who can’t do it seem to talk about it an awful lot.
And, dude, when I’m in canid form, they’re right out there for everyone to see anyway—what does it matter if I’m licking them or not? ”
He just shakes his head, seemingly lost for words. It’s so true, though. Other species talk about hellhounds licking balls all the time . We don’t ever bring it up—we just do it. Even the cursed cats—felid shifters—get all weird about it, and they’re capable of doing it themselves.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a felid licking their balls, though. They’ve gotta, right? I mean… why would anyone waste that ability? Maybe they’re just squeamish about doing it in public.
In the locker room, I make Noah sit on a bench while I get his towel and body wash, turn on the water in one of the shower stalls, and then find the shower stool Andrew insisted on bringing in.
I know Noah hates using it, but I stick it in the stall anyway—it’s his call if he wants to ignore it, but at least I know I’ve done the right thing. I think he’ll use it today, though.
I go back to get him, and as he hauls himself to his feet, I ask quietly, “Do you want some help? Or I can call Andrew?”
His smile is tired. “Spot me walking over, if you don’t mind,” he says. “I’ll be okay in there. I might take a break before going back upstairs.”
Super. Fucking. Badass.
Anyone who says humans are a lesser species has no idea what they’re talking about.
Andrew pounces on us the second we reach the doorway to our shared office. Noah refused to use the wheelchair that Andrew brings everywhere “just in case,” so our journey from the gym has been slow, and he’s leaning on me a little.
Which has Andrew thinking the worst.
“I’m fine,” Noah snaps irritably, swatting him away as though he were a fly. I really enjoy watching that. Especially because Andrew swoops right back in, just like a fly would. Hmm… vampire fly?
With quite a bit of fussing and fidgeting, they get Noah settled in his desk chair. I can tell Andrew wants to suggest going home for a nap, but the set of Noah’s jaw obviously deters him, and he goes back to his desk to pretend to work while he actually watches Noah obsessively.
It’s sweet.
But Noah’s going to snap and go on a killing spree, I can tell, so I do my part to save Andrew’s life by going over and planting myself on the edge of his desk.
His gaze immediately shoots to me, then back to Noah, then, more slowly, back to me. Then down to where my ass is perched on top of his to-do list.
“Did you need something?” he asks dryly.
“We never finished our chat about our secondary best friendship,” I declare with a smile, wriggling my ass a bit just to hear the paper crinkle.
He laughs. “You are such a shit-stirrer,” he says amiably, leaning back in his chair and turning slightly so he can keep one eye on Noah while he’s talking to me. “Okay, tell me about our secondary best friendship.”
“Well,” I begin, “obviously Sam’s my bestest BFF and nobody can ever take him away from me. Gideon tried but failed.”
“Say what?” Sam raises his head from where he’s staring at his screen. “Gideon and I are in a committed relationship. What are you even talking about?”
“Ah, but we’re still bestest besties. Forever. That’s a lot of years, Sam. Not even Gideon could sunder the bond between us.”
Sam sighs and returns his attention to what he was working on.
“But you,” I turn back to Andrew, “you’re my secondary best friend.
Our bond is also forever, even though it’s much newer.
The friendship we have is different from what I have with Sam.
He feeds me and tells me how pretty I am.
You do the Macarena with me and know all the choreography to ‘Baby, One More Time.’”
“Britney is a pop icon,” he agrees. Noah and Sam both groan, although I happen to know that Sam likes to sing “Oops I Did It Again” while he’s cleaning.
“Right? So you’re my secondary best friend.”
“Wait,” Noah says, sounding reluctantly curious. “Andrew’s your secondary best friend, and oh my god, I can’t believe I just said those words, but are you his? Or are you his primary best friend?”
“Bestest bestie,” I correct, because the terminology is important. “No, it doesn’t work that way. It has to be a completely reciprocal relationship level, or people can get jealous and schisms form. Entire nations have gone to war because of that.”
“Sure they have.” He looks at Andrew. “So who’s your best friend?”
“You,” Andrew says promptly, and we all laugh.
“No,” Noah says. “I mean, yes, but I’m your boyfriend best friend. It’s a completely different level of relationship. Fuck me, they’ve sucked me into the vortex of their idiocy.”
“There’s no escape, either,” Sam commiserates. “Once you’re in, that’s it. They have you for life .”
“At least my life won’t last as long as yours,” Noah mutters. “Freedom is only half a century or so away.”
From the way Andrew tenses, I figure this would be the best time to get the conversation back on track.
“Yeah, Andrew, who’s your bestest BFF?” I ask, drawing the words out because they sound so much better that way.
“I always walk in on the weirdest conversations,” David says from the doorway. “Do you guys time it or something? Wait until you hear me coming? Or is this just how you are all the time when I’m not around?”
“David,” Andrew says quickly. “If we’re judging by people who will always feed me, then definitely David is my best friend.”
David stops dead in his tracks halfway to his desk. “What did you just say? Why is this news to me?”
“He also needs to tell you that you’re pretty,” I remind Andrew.
We all look at David.
“I don’t even know what’s happening here,” he says.
“You need to tell Andrew he’s pretty,” I instruct, “to seal the bond of your bestest best friendship.”
“I still don’t know what’s happening here.” He shakes his head, goes to his desk, and puts down his laptop.
The rest of us wait.
“Don’t you think I’m pretty, David?” Andrew asks with a wicked gleam in his eye and a plaintive note in his voice.
“This isn’t going to stop until I admit defeat, is it?” David asks Noah.
He shakes his head. “Really sorry you got dragged in, though.”
David sighs. “Andrew, you’re pretty.”
I cheer. Andrew shoves me off his desk. Luckily, I am a hellhound, the epitome of grace and quick reflexes, and I land on my feet rather than sprawled across the floor.
“Percy’s ready for you,” David says before I can turn on the kicked puppy act and make Andrew grovel.
I look at my watch. “Shit.” Fortunately, I’m not actually late, but still… I shake a finger at Andrew as I grab my phone and a notepad from my desk. “We will be having words later. You do not treat your secondary best friend like that.”
As I leave, I hear David saying, “Do I really want to know?”
“It’s Alistair,” Sam replies. “Spare yourself.”
They all love me so much.