Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
The bedroom lacked a doorknob. Takashi had noted that before he’d fallen asleep, but he could do nothing about it.
Otherwise, the bedroom had a lovely bed, no windows, a wardrobe and dresser, a matching desk, and a small bathroom. The subtlety didn’t elude him. Of course, Seamus would say that the lack of windows meant no fear of sunlight penetrating the space, but that also meant Takashi couldn’t escape through them. A wardrobe could store clothing as well as a closet, so there was no need for that extra space. And the bathroom didn’t have a lock because why would he need one? The space was only for him.
It was a prisoner’s cell disguised as a guest’s lodging. Takashi had seen its like before, though the lack of a doorknob was new.
Effectively locked in, he had showered, slept the best he could, and then woke. The clothes in the wardrobe fit him but weren’t any of his personal, tailored pieces. They were store-bought and a fraction too wrong for him.
Hours had passed.
How long would he be forced to remain in the room? In the mansion? What had happened to Roger and Zack? Were they being tortured while he walked back and forth? Were they waiting in some similar room and worrying over him?
Breaking walls was a noisy prospect, and there was no telling what might be hiding in the walls. Takashi paced slowly, his hunger growing, and watched the door. Seamus couldn’t hope to continue his charade if he didn’t give Takashi an opportunity to feed. Did Seamus know that Takashi knew that this was one massive lie? Had he given away too much information the night before and Seamus decided he no longer needed anything from him?
No. If that was the case, he’d be dead.
Takashi started counting his steps. Then the number climbed too high, and he stopped before it drove him into paranoia. His bloodlust was clawing at his insides. He had gone nights without feeding before, but each one had been a test of his patience.
Surely all the walls couldn’t be booby-trapped. Maybe there was even a secret exit. Older vampires loved hidden passageways.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Takashi started for it, remembered there was no handle, and called out eagerly, “Yes?”
A teenage boy swung open the door. He kept his head bowed, gaze never lifting from the floor. He had stark moonlight-white skin and wore a dark-colored vest and shorts that accentuated his angular frame. His collar was a deep red.
He smelled delicious, but Takashi kept his fangs to himself.
The boy motioned for Takashi to follow him out of the room.
Perhaps leaving the bedroom wasn’t what Takashi wanted at all. But he couldn’t remain behind. He followed the boy. They wound their way to a staircase and to the first floor. All the doors were closed, leaving Takashi with the impression of long halls with only art pieces and vases of flowers for reference. Such things could be easily moved about.
Even a labyrinth has a way out. Takashi kept track of the number of doors he passed. He was fairly certain he hadn’t been this way the previous night.
The boy led him to a sitting room with a crackling fireplace. Several bookcases lined the walls, and they were filled with hardback novels. The collection spanned the last couple of centuries and seemed to run in chronological order of publication from a cursory glance. Across the dark wood floor was a rug that smelled of deep woods and brought forth an image of moonlight. The swirling, interlocking design also spoke to its Unseelie make. The chairs were leather, with bright brass finishings outlining the seams, and a low cream-colored sofa was against the right wall.
Three humans stood in front of the sofa. They were naked except for the gray band on each of their left arms.
Anton sat in one of the leather chairs. He had pulled his platinum-blond hair into a high ponytail and dressed in jeans and a hoodie. He had on sneakers . All of which seemed painstakingly new.
The vampire had always seemed so impressively old that Takashi had assumed he’d been somewhere in his thirties when he’d been made. But as he sat reading a leather journal, he looked young. In his current outfit, he’d have fit in on a college campus without raising any suspicions.
The curiosity almost eased Takashi’s mind into a sense of calm. Then he noticed that Anton was reading Zack’s journal.
First Seamus had his notes and the journal. Now Anton’s reading it .
His attire suddenly made a sick sort of sense. Anton was dressed like Zack preferred whenever he wasn’t dressed up for an evening out.
“There we go,” Anton said with a sigh of pleasure. He lifted his head and grinned, a wicked spread of his lips that only chilled Takashi. Whatever merriment he’d found grew, and his ruby eyes sparkled with glee. “I would’ve thought you’d hide your fears better, but they are right there for the plucking. You’re easier than a piano.”
Anton had set up a little test and apparently liked the results so far.
Does immortality become so dull that everything has to be a jest with a razor’s edge? Takashi managed a small smile of his own. “I’m glad I’ve brought you some amusement, master.”
“Don’t call me that tonight. I’m trying to understand the common mortal mind.”
“Zack’s mind is anything but common,” Takashi replied, keeping his tone light despite how badly he wanted to rip Anton a new one for underestimating his boyfriend.
Anton’s smile grew. “True.”
Cautiously, Takashi stepped into the room. The rug had magic in it, but other than adding a freshening scent, it didn’t seem to hold an enchantment. He walked over to the fireplace and watched a few of its embers. The humans were close. The gray bands on their arms dulled out their emotions and kept them in a state primed for accepting orders. The bands broke the Pact of Chicago, yet they were still in use.
“Are you hungry?” Anton asked.
Reflexively, Takashi glanced toward the gray-banded humans. He hated how he hungered for their blood, but they were there. They were a kind of food.
“Not them. At least, not yet.” Anton pulled up the arm of his sweatshirt and held out his bare wrist. “I want to feel your fangs first.”
Blood was a powerful conduit. The night before, Anton had ripped through Takashi’s mental shields. Who knew what he might be capable of if they had a more direct connection?
Takashi put his hand on the mantle, adopting a neutral expression. Anton had already displayed that he had no trouble reading Takashi’s emotions, but he hoped to disguise his growing anxieties behind a mask of growing bloodlust.
He reached for that tiny core of power left within himself and extended his reach out to sense what he could of Anton.
For a creature who only seemed to do as he pleased, Anton had a fierce mental shield, but he wasn’t projecting any sort of desire. He was playing everything closer to his chest. Cracking it would take more energy than Takashi dared to expend if he wasn’t going to feed that night. Then I’ll have to rely on observation .
“Do you play these games because you’re bored or because you have more fun learning what you want to know?” Takashi asked.
Anton lowered his wrist to his lap. “Game?”
Takashi motioned at Anton’s attire. “How long have the tags been off those clothes? Or did you craft them into existence with your arcane abilities?”
Anton tensed and closed the journal. He narrowed his ruby eyes. “Perhaps you should leave the man behind the curtain alone.”
“You’re much more powerful than some charlatan leading with illusions.” Slowly, Takashi approached the other chair and sat down across from Anton. Stroking egos was a more delicate process than keeping his fangs from nicking a lover’s tender member. He relaxed into the seat and ran his gaze over Anton. “Why did you try to dress like Zack? Is this a ruse for my benefit? His? Seamus’s?”
A flicker went across Anton’s face when Takashi said Seamus. Just a fraction of a scowl.
We can’t help who we love. And he’s loved Seamus for so long. And Seamus was the definition of a manipulative bastard.
The way to survive this is to convince them I have value beyond being useful . Takashi slid to the edge of his seat and dipped his voice low. “Are you trying to understand him? Or be him?”
Anton set the journal aside and mirrored Takashi’s movement. “Why does it matter to you?”
“I won’t help you torture him,” Takashi replied. “But if you’re attempting to understand Seamus’s fascination with him, well, that I might be interested in myself.”
“I know what my lover wants of him,” Anton said with a low growl.
The laughter was gone. No hint of a jest in sight. Takashi let the slightest grin tug the corner of his lips. A false ego might push Anton into revealing his hand. “You don’t know why he wants what he wants, though, and that’s bothering you.”
“Are you arrogant enough to believe that I don’t know every inch of my lover?”
“I have traveled the world and known many of our kind. I’ve seen ancient lovers have difficulties.”
“You think I’m having relationship trouble?” Anton spat out. “We’ve been together for eight hundred and forty-nine years.”
Carefully, Takashi said, “I think that life would be far too dull if everything worked perfectly. You don’t seem one for tedium, not even with your lover.”
Anton rose from his seat and crossed over to the fireplace, taking the place where Takashi had stood. He watched the flames for a long moment without letting his psychic guard slip. The silence carried on so long that Takashi became aware of the hunger burning in his stomach again. The burn was turning into a soul-deep ache.
“He loves me,” Anton said.
“He said as much last night,” Takashi replied.
The temperature in the room dropped. One of the gray-banded humans shivered. When Anton glanced over his shoulder at Takashi, his eyes were glowing deep red. His frown had the intensity of a snapped support beam. “I do not need you to tell me what I already know.”
“But you are trying to understand Seamus, aren’t you? For some reason, he’s obsessed with Zack. He doesn’t want what he normally wants from a mortal with him, does he?”
With a blur of speed that Takashi didn’t catch, Anton went from standing beside the fire to holding Takashi by the throat. He shoved him against the chair hard enough that Takashi and the chair went backward with a clatter of sound. In his other hand, he had a burning piece of firewood, and he brought the flame close to Takashi’s eye.
“You are very clever,” Anton said with an impassively cold voice, “but invasive. Many have tried to expand the cracks between us, and we only become stronger for the effort. I love Seamus deeper than you could possibly understand, let alone feel.”
Rather than struggle, Takashi stilled, fighting with his muscles for a sense of calm. Every word was a roll of the dice, but he had to keep rolling. He had to try. “I love Roger. I am falling in love with Zack night by night. They are as different as the moon and the tide, but they are mine, and I am theirs. Do not tell me I know nothing of love.”
Takashi gripped Anton’s wrist. Touch heightened a vampire’s ability to read. He unwound his mental shields and let himself feel the terror for his loved ones that he had been resisting since Seamus stepped through the hotel door.
Slowly, Anton withdrew. He tossed the firewood back into the hearth and started for the door. He paused and said, “Drink what you want of the gray bands. Then the boy here will take you back to your room. Go anywhere else, and I will put embers in worse places than your eye.”
Then he walked away. The room wasn’t any warmer for his absence.
Takashi took a long moment, then rose. He set the chair upright. Did I win that round? Or am I completely fucked?