Chapter 9
Nine
Something was ringing.
An alarm?
No. Too early.
Ethan scrubbed his hand across his eyes and rolled over in the bed. He blinked at the clock that showed in angry red numbers that it was after three in the morning. As his brain crept toward full consciousness, he realized that his phone was ringing.
Snatching it off the charger, Ethan sat up, glanced at the screen to confirm that it was Marcus calling him, and answered it.
“Marcus?” Ethan said, his voice rough and gravelly with sleep.
“I need you to run an errand as quickly as possible,” Marcus replied. “Do you have a pen and paper handy?”
“Umm…just a sec.” Throwing off the covers, Ethan jumped out of the bed, the phone still pressed to his ear as he tripped over a pair of shoes as he crossed the room.
He could hear muffled shouts in the background and pounding on wood…
maybe footsteps. It was all hard to make out, but there was no missing the desperate urgency in Marcus’s voice.
He crossed to the living room, flipping on lights as he moved through the rooms. He winced and blinked, his eyes complaining about the brightness. On the coffee table, he found an old receipt and a pen. He scribbled across it quickly to make sure it worked and sighed with relief. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“I need gauze, pads, medical tape—”
“Whiskey. Get some fucking whiskey!” shouted a new angry voice.
“Whiskey and peroxide,” Marcus continued.
“She broke my bow. My bow! She broke my bow!” cried another male voice Ethan didn’t recognize.
“I know, Bel. We’re going to get you a new bow for your cello. I promise.” The first angry voice had soothed the other person with such gentleness and care that it nearly broke Ethan’s heart. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but someone was seriously hurt.
“Marcus, are you okay?” Ethan demanded.
“I’m fine. Get everything on the list and get to my house in thirty minutes,” Marcus snapped and then hung up the phone.
Ethan dropped his phone on the list and ran to his bedroom. He flipped on the light and started grabbing clothes. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was even picking up clean clothes or not. Didn’t matter. Someone was hurt. Probably one of Marcus’s brothers.
But if they were vampires, why would they need all those medical supplies? Vampires were supposed to heal quickly. This didn’t make any damn sense.
A week had passed since their interrupted meal and Ethan’s visit from both Carl and Marcus.
He was avoiding Carl as much as possible as he tried to figure out the best way to tell the man that he wasn’t going to do his dirty work anymore.
He also hadn’t found a good way to come clean to Marcus about why he’d taken the job in the first place.
The problem was that if he told Marcus, he’d definitely lose his job as well as any chance of discovering the truth about who killed his family.
Fuck, it was all a mess, but at least he had something more pressing to worry about than his own problems.
With his heart pounding, he snatched up the list and his phone from the table on his way out the door.
He rode the elevator down to the garage where Janice had stashed Marcus’s Mini Cooper in a parking spot for him.
Since starting the job two weeks ago, he’d used the car only once to run and get supplies for packing up Marcus’s house.
The rest of the stuff he ordered and had delivered directly to the town house.
He sped to the nearest all-night superstore, praying that the cops weren’t looking as he drove well above the speed limit.
Finding the medical supplies wasn’t difficult.
He grabbed everything Marcus listed and a few items he might not have thought of.
Ethan had no idea what was wrong, but he wanted them to be prepared for anything since it was obvious that they weren’t going to the hospital.
The store didn’t have much selection in the way of whiskey, but he managed to locate a large, cheap bottle.
If Marcus’s brothers were anything like him, they wouldn’t care for the taste, but Ethan knew that they didn’t want the alcohol for the taste.
They were looking to numb. A trick Ethan had succumbed to more than once on the anniversary of his family’s murder.
On his way through the store, Ethan ran across a section that carried musical instruments and other equipment.
He glanced at his phone to see that he still had a few minutes before he needed to race to Marcus’s town house.
Walking briskly down the aisle, he looked over the various instruments, strings, tuning devices, rosin, pics, and reeds until he finally came to a small area displaying bows.
There was only one marked for a cello and Ethan snatched it up.
He knew that if this was Marcus’s brother, the man likely had something fancy, but this might help ease his pain until he could get something he was more accustomed to using.
He rushed out of the store, putting everything on the corporate credit card Janice had given him on his second day of work.
When she’d said he’d need it for planning the move and running random errands for Marcus, he never thought he’d be using the card to pay for medical gauze, whiskey, and a cello bow.
Parking outside the town house with only two minutes to spare, Ethan rushed to the back door and used his key to let himself in.
The door led straight into the kitchen. He flipped on the light and his heart stopped to see blood smeared across the black-and-white checkerboard floor.
More was smeared across the center island as if someone had slid a blood-covered hand across it, using it for support as they moved through the room.
Swallowing the rising fear and all-too-familiar memories of that horrible night, Ethan forced himself to continue through the kitchen toward the heart of the house. It didn’t take him long to hear raised voices. He followed the noise.
At first, it seemed like none of the lights were on in the house, but he finally spotted light spilling across the hall floor from the library.
He picked up his pace, rushing toward the room, but his feet halted at the threshold.
A tall, slender man was stretched out on the leather couch, his shirt soaked with blood.
There were long scratches across his face, and his dark hair was matted with what looked to be sweat and blood.
His skin looked too pale under the yellow light of the lamps.
Another man kneeled at his side, his hands pressing against his chest as he spoke softly to the injured man. From behind, Ethan thought that the kneeling man might be Rafe. Marcus hovered nearby, rubbing his hand through the man’s hair. More blood was smeared across his face and coated his hands.
“Marcus,” Ethan croaked. His hands shook. He’d not seen that much blood in years. Not since that night. His entire body seemed to lock up. Air refused to enter his lungs beyond a few tiny sips.
“Ethan.” There was no missing the relief in Marcus’s tone. The sound helped to snap Ethan’s gaze from the wounded figure on the couch to watch Marcus rush to his side.
“What happened?” Ethan whispered. It was as loud as he could get his voice as he forced the words out.
“Thank you for getting this,” Marcus said, ignoring his question. “A bow?”
Ethan looked at how Marcus lightly ran his fingers up the bow in a caress that brought tears to Ethan’s eyes.
“I thought it might help,” Ethan mumbled.
“It will.”
“She tried to take my heart!” the man on the couch screamed. “She wanted to rip my heart out. She was trying to kill me!”
Ethan lurched back a step in horror, watching as Rafe shifted one hand to run over his forehead. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he murmured over and over again.
“Go home, Ethan.” Ethan’s eyes snapped over to Marcus, stunned by the cold, hard quality of his voice. Just a moment ago, there had been such kindness and warmth. “I’ll call you tomorrow if your services are needed.”
Before Ethan could say anything else, the door to the library was slammed in his face. He was officially dismissed.
And yet, Ethan couldn’t leave. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but it was clear that one of Marcus’s brothers had been brutally attacked and injured. The man on the couch had said “she.” Had that woman Meryl attacked Marcus’s brother? Was that what Marcus was trying to protect him from?
Backing up, Ethan walked a short distance from the library and sat down on the floor, his back pressed against the wall. The hardwood almost immediately bit into his ass, but he didn’t want to move. Not until he was sure that Marcus’s brother was okay, and Marcus didn’t need him any longer.
He had to wait only a couple of minutes before Ethan heard raised voices through the door. This time, it was Marcus shouting.
“Go, Rafe! You know Winter needs your help, especially if she realizes what she did.”
“Bel needs me too!” someone shouted in response.
There was such pain in that voice. Ethan thought it was likely Rafe, but there was such a heavy weight of fear and worry in his tone.
It was surprising to think this was the same man who sent his brothers a naked picture of himself in bed with two other people.
But despite his hedonistic tendencies, he clearly cared for his brother.
“I’ve got Bel. Winter needs you,” Marcus countered.
There was another voice. Softer than the others. Ethan couldn’t make out the words through the door, but he guessed it was Bel urging Rafe to leave, because only a few seconds later, the library door was jerked open and the man stormed out.
He stopped sharply when he spotted Ethan.
From his impressive height, he glared down at Ethan, his blood-covered hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Rafe was a stunningly handsome man in his perfectly tailored slacks and button-down shirt.
Blood splashed across him didn’t detract from his beauty but added a dangerous edge to him that had Ethan’s heart speeding up.
“You’re the assistant,” Rafe stated and Ethan nodded. “Marcus told you to leave. Why are you still here?”
“I’m staying until I’m sure he doesn’t need anything else.”
Emotions that Ethan couldn’t quite put a name to flitted across Rafe’s face for a second before everything was simply washed away to reveal a blank slate. “You brought him the bow,” Rafe murmured softly.
Ethan could only nod again. It had seemed like such a silly thing to pause for when it was clear that someone was seriously injured.
But there had been something in the voice shouting about the broken bow that threatened to shatter Ethan’s heart.
He’d been sure that the broken bow was more important to the person than potentially bleeding out.
“Thank you. It helped.” Rafe gave a little wave of his hand as he started for the rear of the house. “Stick around,” he called over his shoulder. “Bel might need another donor.”
A chill skittered through Ethan and he wrapped his arms around his bent legs. Ethan knew Rafe meant a blood donor. It was clear that Bel had lost a lot of blood. He’d need to have it replaced. Would Bel kill him if he fed off him?
Would Marcus let his brother kill him?
If that was how vampires fed, then Ethan felt pretty damn sure that Marcus wouldn’t hesitate to choose the life of his brother over the life of some guy who worked for him. It didn’t matter if they were starting to become friends. Family came first, and Marcus very clearly loved his family.
Rafe’s words kept replaying in his head. Another donor.
How many people had Bel fed from before he reached Marcus’s town house?
Was there a long trail of bodies across the city leading back to Marcus’s?
That was a lovely image.
And yet, he was still sitting there, waiting for some word or reassurance from Marcus. Why? Because Marcus paid well? Because he treated Ethan with kindness and respect? Because Marcus was some hot guy with the most adorable smile?
Or was it that Marcus was his only real chance at finding out the truth about what happened to his family?
Ethan groaned against his legs. There was a good chance that it was a combination of all those reasons, and that didn’t make him feel too great about himself.
He waited another half hour, but there were no more shouts or cries of pain from the library.
Shoving against the wall and floor, Ethan slowly hoisted himself to his feet.
His body protested the movement. The hardwood floor had been incredibly uncomfortable, but walking suddenly felt worse.
He shuffled toward the kitchen and dug through the cabinets and closets until he finally located the cleaning supplies.
There was no going back to sleep anytime soon, and he wasn’t leaving.
Might as well do something useful, starting with getting rid of all this damn blood on every surface.
And if he was lucky, the physical labor would help him clear his head and maybe find some answer as to why the hell he was so determined to stick close to Marcus when it was obvious the man was the center of violence and danger. Two things Ethan didn’t need in his life.