Chapter 21
L iving with Amos was even better than Tessa had hoped it would be. Now that he’d been unleashed, he fucked like a wild animal. He started a wicked game in which he’d creep up on her and nip her—just enough to impart a little venom—and then hold her as a swift little orgasm rocked through her. In retaliation, Tessa started an equally wicked game in which she’d wait until he was on a video call for work, and then stand naked in the doorway, just out of sight of the camera. Both games generally ended in sex.
In the first two weeks of living together, they’d broken an antique lamp, torn curtains straight off the rod, punched a hole in the living room wall, cracked two stair banisters, knocked one of the legs off the settee, and shattered a cut-crystal vase—all during their hunting games. The most devastating of these was when Amos discovered the sapphire-blue Council dress in the back of the closet. Tessa had put it on, since he’d never gotten a chance to ravish her in it, and in the course of their subsequent struggle-fuck, her stiletto heel had ended up embedded in the bedroom wall, one of the bedposts had been cracked in half, two of the towel bars had been ripped off the bathroom wall, the bedroom doorknob had been snapped clean off, and Tessa’s blue dress had been shredded practically to confetti.
Despite his savage approach to lovemaking, Amos was incredibly fastidious. More fastidious than Tessa had quite gleaned before living with him. He wasn’t a nag about it, but she couldn’t help but notice the way he carefully repositioned things that she’d moved out of their original place—a lamp that got nudged over when she’d left a stack of books on the end table, a candle that she’d lit and moved from the bookshelf to the coffee table, a spare bedroom door she’d shut that apparently Amos preferred ajar.
He would even rearrange things that were nominally hers. Even after claiming her, he still had fresh flowers delivered weekly. When she’d turned one of the arrangements so that her favorite part—the sunflowers—could be seen better, she later walked in on Amos rotating it back the way it’d been. He froze as if he’d been caught stealing from her purse.
“Aren’t those mine? ” she’d asked, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Of course they are,” Amos said hurriedly. “They just… look better this way.” His expression was somehow both defiant and ashamed, and it had broken Tessa’s composure. She laughed, shaking her head at him. But as soon as he left the room, she’d rotated the flowers back to how she liked them.
It wasn’t long after Tessa had moved in with Amos that the thrall followed.
“Well, your admirer has finally moved into the neighborhood,” Amos said grimly.
“Is he here right now?” Tessa asked, a flutter of fear in her chest despite her sympathy for the thrall.
“Yes. Standing next to the garage. I could probably corner him at the end of the alley if I can get him to run in that direction. It’s a dead-end surrounded by three-story brick walls.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“Listen, he’s scared of you. But he likes me. You’ll have a much better chance of catching him if I can talk to him. And there’s no way he can hurt me if you’re with me.”
Amos considered that. After a long moment, he sighed. “You stay right by my side the entire time.”
With Tessa riding Amos piggyback, they set out after the thrall. Just as Amos predicted, they were able to corner him at the end of the alley. The walls were too high for the thrall to climb, and he wasn’t fast enough to get past Amos.
He huddled against the bricks, eyes darting nervously from Amos to Tessa to the open space behind them. Every time his gaze landed on Tessa, his expression turned imploring, as if she could help him.
“Hey,” Tessa said softly. “Don’t be afraid. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Amos took a cautious step closer and the thrall panicked, scrabbling against the bricks in a futile effort to climb the wall. He dropped back down to the pavement, breathing hard, eyes darting wildly.
“It’s okay,” Tessa soothed. “Catch your breath. You must be so tired.”
The thrall’s gaze went to her face, despair contorting his grimy features .
“We just want to help you. Will you come with us?”
The thrall’s gaze returned to Amos, face rigid with fear.
“Don’t worry about him,” Tessa said. “He won’t hurt you. He’s a big softie. And he knows people who can help you.”
The thrall shrunk back, pressing himself against the bricks as if he could simply sink through them.
Deciding to take a different tack, Tessa asked, “How long have you been on your own?”
The question seemed to catch the thrall off guard. He blinked at her.
“It’s been several months, at least, hasn’t it?”
Warily, the thrall nodded.
“I thought so. We met each other in April, I think. You were on the sidewalk, close to where I work.”
After a nervous pause, gaze darting to Amos and back to Tessa, he nodded again.
“Are you the one who’s been leaving gifts for me?”
Another nod.
“Will you tell me your name?”
He stared at her.
“My name’s Tessa,” she persisted. “What’s yours?”
She let the silence stretch out, waiting patiently. At last, the thrall opened his mouth as if to answer, but only produced a hoarse gasp.
“It’s alright,” Tessa said quickly. “Don’t try to speak if it hurts. Would you let me take a look at your throat? I’m a nurse.”
“ Tessa ,” Amos growled.
The thrall flinched at Amos’s growl, scrabbling against the bricks again, wearing himself out faster this time.
“You’re alright,” Tessa soothed. “It’s okay. Just take a breather.” She waited until his breathing more or less evened out. “We won’t touch you or hurt you, but if you’ll just follow us, we can lead you somewhere safe.”
The thrall’s gaze darted all around the alley before coming back to Tessa. Thin chest heaving, he panted something that almost sounded like a word.
“I’m sorry, I missed that,” Tessa said gently.
He spoke again, a faint rasp of sound, but once again, it meant nothing to Tessa’s ears. She shook her head apologetically.
He took a breath. “ Phillipe ,” he managed to whisper.
“Oh! That’s your name? Phillipe? That’s a beautiful—whoa!”
The thrall—Phillipe—made a sudden dash to Tessa’s left. It was so fast, she could hardly track him. Amos moved faster, but Tessa was in the way. The thrall bounded onto the dumpster behind Tessa and up onto the second-story roof above it.
Amos leapt up after him, but he stopped at the edge of the roof, unwilling to let Tessa out of his sight. With a sigh, he jumped back down. “He’s gone.”
“God, he’s in such bad shape,” Tessa said when they were back in the house. “He needs help.”
“He’s getting to the end of his rope,” Amos said grimly. “I’d guess he has a couple weeks at most before he wastes away entirely.”
“What happens then?”
“Death, basically. A vampire—or a thrall—can go for a long time without feeding. It’s a miserable existence, but it’s survivable. But not forever. If the thrall— ”
“Phillipe.”
“If Phillipe hasn’t fed since Markov died, then he’s close to the end.”
Tessa’s heart sank. “We have to help him.”
Amos was silent.