Chapter 6
Six
Rafe tried to push aside how much he liked seeing Philippe in the passenger seat of his BMW.
Relaxed against the leather seats with his elbow on the door, the older vampire lounged across from Rafe like they’d ridden together so many other times.
The streetlights caressed his face and gilded his hair before racing back into the night.
Despite being in a tightly confined space, Rafe found it surprisingly comfortable.
They didn’t fill the air with inane chatter.
Really, Philippe didn’t speak beyond giving Rafe the occasional direction.
But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t like this with his brothers.
One of them was always talking about something—usually it was Rafe.
If Bel was too quiet, it was not a good thing.
He was likely lost in contemplation about one of his experiments, and too often that was proving to be a bad thing for all of them.
But with Philippe, there was no need to talk. A part of him just felt happy to have him there.
That in itself was a terrifying thought.
Shoving the growing worry aside, Rafe parked the sleek black car in an opening along the residential street and turned off the engine.
Philippe wordlessly climbed out of the car, and Rafe followed with a frown.
This part of town didn’t appear to be the safest, not that it should be a problem for a vampire, even a twelve-year-old one.
The homes were of the narrow, two-story variety that were likely built at the turn of the twentieth century.
Most of them still had the old wood siding and front porches.
The front yards were small with grass that was going brown with the approach of winter.
Chain link fences appeared at uneven intervals as owners marked their territory.
Despite the relatively early hour, there was no one about.
Lights shone in windows as people went about their normal lives of dinner, cleaning, sex, and homework.
Or whatever it was that humans did now. If it didn’t occur in his bedroom or club, Rafe really didn’t care.
Though he was sure he wasn’t looking at house after house of humans cooking up scientific experiments.
Well, maybe meth. Some of these houses definitely looked like someone could be cooking meth, but that was about it when it came to science.
“Shall we?” Philippe asked.
Rafe looked over at his companion, shaking off his strange musings, to find the vampire motioning for them to proceed down the block.
Rafe shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and walked over to the sidewalk where Philippe was waiting for him. They strolled along in silence for several minutes. The wind was brisk, chilling them and sending dead leaves scraping and tumbling along the street.
“You’re not expecting to find her sitting on someone’s front step, right?” Philippe asked softly.
Rafe snorted and looked over at his companion.
“What? You don’t think it’s possible?” Rafe tensed as soon as the words left his lips.
He had been trying to keep his natural sarcasm to a minimum when he was speaking to the clan leader.
While his brothers might find it endearing—Who the fuck was he kidding?
They found it annoying, but they wouldn’t kill him over it—Philippe might not be quite as tolerant.
But Philippe rolled his eyes at him, the hint of a smile lurking on his too-lush lips.
“No, I don’t think we’re going to find her here. If it was that simple, you would have located her already,” Rafe continued.
He paused when they reached an intersection.
Glancing around, he didn’t see anything particularly interesting about any one street.
They all looked the same with their seeming unending row of homes, brown grass, and sickly trees.
On a whim, he chose a direction and continued with Philippe silently walking with him.
“But walking around her hunting grounds gives me a feel for what she saw and who she might have encountered.”
“You think this might be another vampire’s hunting grounds?” Philippe inquired.
Rafe shrugged. “It wouldn’t be my first choice.” Looking around again, his lip curled a little. “It wouldn’t even be my tenth choice, but to each his or her own. But I don’t think she was attacked for invading another’s space. It would have been enough to simply warn a fledgling away.”
“True. A warning would be enough for Piper. She doesn’t like confrontation. If she’d encountered another vampire, she would have immediately returned home.”
“Or run.”
Rafe carefully watched Philippe’s expression.
There wasn’t much change. A little tightening of the muscles around his mouth and eyes that he couldn’t quite stop, but it was enough to give Rafe the feeling Philippe not only rejected that suggestion, but he knew something he wasn’t yet sharing with Rafe.
Stopping at another corner, Rafe shoved a hand through his hair, sending the thick strands into disarray.
He wanted to snap at Philippe about his reluctance to share information.
How the hell was he supposed to succeed in locating this treasured clan member if Philippe refused to tell Rafe everything he needed to know?
“Maybe we are looking at this all wrong,” Rafe announced as he chose another direction. “Maybe this isn’t an attack on Piper, but on you.”
“What? Why attack her to hurt me?”
Rafe grinned at Philippe but there was no pleasure in it. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
Philippe glared at Rafe for a second, then directed his attention to their surroundings. “You know it is,” he murmured. The words were nearly carried away by the wind.
“Is there any reason why this person would choose Piper than say…Jullien?”
Philippe shook his head. “None other than the obvious reason that she’s an easier target. He’s only a couple dozen years younger than me. He’s stronger, harder to subdue or even kill. Piper…”
“Piper is a lost child compared to Jullien.”
Philippe’s shoulders slumped, and Rafe had to ball his hands into fists in his pockets. It was the only way to keep from reaching over and wrapping his arm around the vampire’s shoulders, pulling him in tight.
“I promised to keep her safe, Rafe,” Philippe whispered.
The walls Rafe had erected to guard against Philippe’s allure took another brutal hit. Something in his voice, something in the lines cutting deeper into his face, reminded Rafe too much of rare moments with Marcus.
His older brother had whispered those words a few times over the past several decades.
Marcus’s whole purpose and being had been directed toward keeping their mother, Julianna, and his brothers safe.
And more recently, that small group expanded to include Ethan.
Something inside of Marcus seemed to break every time one of them was hurt, even if there had been nothing he could do to stop it.
“There’s only so much that you can do,” Rafe replied as gently as possible. “That’s the nature of life. Eventually, they have to take a chance. Take responsibility for themselves. It’s not fair when they get hurt, but we have to be strong and learn from it.”
Philippe stopped and looked up at Rafe. His expression was completely unreadable, making Rafe more than a little uncomfortable. “Hard-won experience rings in your words.”
Rafe cleared his throat and started walking again, relying on the notion that Philippe would resume walking as well.
“Contrary to popular belief, my existence hasn’t been all wine and roses.
” He cocked his head to the side and smiled as a thought occurred to him.
“Or as Little Varik might say, kinky sex and food delivery apps.”
The rough chuckle from Philippe helped to release some of the heaviness from the air, and Rafe glanced over to find a wry look on the vampire’s face.
“Little Varik?”
Rafe shrugged. “It’s what I call Ethan, the lover of my brother Marcus. He’s the youngest of our little family.”
“He hasn’t been with you long, correct? How is he adjusting?”
“To being a vampire?” Rafe’s grin grew. “The usual complaining. ‘I don’t want to hunt every night. I want to stay home and screw your brother.’ ” Rafe said it in a disturbing falsetto that sounded nothing like Ethan.
“It’s like he takes pride in sharing nightmarish details about his sex life. I know far too much about Marcus now.”
Philippe’s laughter rang out through the neighborhood, and the sound saved him from feeling guilty over sharing the intimate details of his family. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wanted to trust Philippe with this information, as silly as it was.
“I was thinking about how he’s adjusting to being a part of the Varik clan, but that is still amusing.”
Rafe bit back a reminder that they weren’t a clan.
There was no point. Instead he focused on Philippe’s implied question.
Rafe’s smile shifted into something a little more feral and cold.
“Ethan might have been brought into this world at a different time, but he was born to be a Varik. He’s one of us. ”
And Rafe meant it from the very bottom of his soul.
Ethan not only loved Marcus with every ounce of his being, but Rafe knew the young man loved Rafe, Bel, and Winter as brothers.
As if they were his own flesh and blood.
That meant Ethan would risk his life for them, kill to protect them if necessary.
That was what it meant to be a Varik. To give everything for the safety and happiness of the others. Ethan understood that instinctively, which only made it that much easier for Rafe to love him as a brother.
“That’s good to hear.”