Chapter 2
JAMES
“Is this all you’ve got?” Edwin Marsh, over six elegant feet of blond, blue-eyed hotness, stood in the middle of my shabby bedroom in the grotty flat I shared with three other blokes, his hands on his hips and his gaze taking in every damn piece of crap I owned.
He was trying hard not to look shocked, but he wasn’t doing a very convincing job of it.
To be honest, I didn’t blame him. The place was a dump, with ill-fitting window frames and black mould crawling up the walls, but it was cheap. My luck so far hadn’t stretched to an income that would offer me a way out.
Except now, it seemed, I had been given a chance.
For some reason best known to smarter people than me — I’d never been brainy and it seemed I wasn’t a shining example of good sense now either — I was taking that chance and holding onto it with both hands.
And probably my teeth. Somehow, I knew this kind of luck was never going to come my way a second time.
Was I wise to pack up and move on? Debatable.
Was I sensible to be leaving town with Edwin? Very much not.
Was I still determined to follow through? You fucking bet I was.
I extricated my suitcase from the depths of the hallway cupboard and, after checking there was nothing gruesome or sticky attached to it, dumped it on the bed and began stuffing my clothes inside.
I’d bought myself a few bits and pieces over the past five years, but I still had very little to show for my twenty-three years when the bedroom was emptied.
I also ransacked the kitchen and bathroom for anything that belonged to me.
Fuck leaving any of it behind. One of the others would sell it if they couldn’t use it; sod that.
I had to resort to shoving some items in carrier bags, but again, Edwin didn’t comment, although fuck knows how.
I was the product of years of foster care and indifferent children’s homes, without a steady job, currently wearing jeans I’d bought from the market, and trainers that had so little grip left on the soles, I’d probably go arse over tit the next time it rained.
Edwin, or Eddie as his friends seemed to call him, was model material in a pair of tailored trousers that looked as if they cost more than my entire wardrobe, a collarless linen shirt with some kind of pale shiny threads woven into it, and leather brogues that could double as mirrors.
I didn’t want to think how much his jacket had cost. Some kind of fancy waxed shit, the kind you see the Royal Family walking about in.
Right now it was slung over the end of my bed, looking as out of place as Edwin himself did.
His pale skin glowed with unnatural good health, his cheekbones were symmetrical, and his blue eyes were clear and bright.
Oh, and because it’s probably relevant, he’s a vampire.
I, however, a human, was the skinny side of slim, my light reddish hair was overlong, somehow thick and limp, and in dire need of something doing to it.
Although, fuck it, I kept it long for reasons, and right now it was low on my list of priorities to sort out.
My blue eyes were no doubt insipid and weary-looking.
Add in my very average mind and my hearing loss on top of that, and I was such a catch.
Okay, I’m being a bit harsh. In the right light and with a bit of luck, I wasn’t a total moose, but the past week or so had beaten any hint of good looks and health out of me.
It only added to my confusion that Edwin, whose London accent showcased a sarcastic mouth and what appeared to me to be a wickedly smart brain, had chosen me to accompany him.
I’d managed so far to keep a roof over my head and to keep myself fed, but I knew I wasn’t destined to change the world.
I was unrelentingly mediocre. We seemed mismatched, at best.
Edwin gestured to the pile of bags in one corner. “We can’t leave tonight. Not enough time before daybreak to get anywhere. May I use your shower? Then we can sleep the day away and get on the road as soon as night falls.”
I blinked at him. “I don’t have a car.”
His fangs showed as he grinned at me. “Me neither, but there are ways. So, this shower…?”
I showed him to the bathroom, wincing as I handed him a clean but threadbare towel I dragged from the case.
I cringed at the thought of someone as shiny and put together as Edwin using our grotty bathroom, but he didn’t seem bothered.
A few minutes later, as I debated my meagre food choices — instant noodles it was then — he sauntered through to the kitchen wearing only the towel and a pair of socks.
I suddenly wondered if I felt hungry for something entirely different.
Just as quickly, I questioned where the hell that thought had come from. Just, no. Not now, and given the likelihood of Edwin being able to pull literally anyone he fancied, highly unlikely even if future me decided I wanted more.
The front door creaked as Daz came in, the unwelcome scents of cigarette smoke and weed clinging to him as per. He blundered into the kitchen and slammed to a stop at the sight of Edwin.
“Who the fuck are you?” He pushed past me and leaned over to swipe the cereal packet from the counter, shoving his fist into the box without washing his hands — which had been God only knew where. “Stick the kettle on, Wilson.”
“It’s on,” I replied dully. Just a few more hours and I won’t ever have to see you again.
Edwin leaned back against the unit, which made the towel clinging to his hips shift precariously. He raised his eyebrows at Daz.
“I’m with James. Who are you?”
“Live here, don’t I? What d’ya mean, you’re with him?” He eyed Edwin, then me. “You a poofter now then? Punching above and then some, Jamie.”
I winced at the uninvited use of a nickname. Edwin was on him in a flash, one hand clenched in Daz’s T-shirt, almost lifting him off the floor as his eyes glinted dangerously.
“I beg your fucking pardon?”
Daz dropped the cereal box and flakes scattered everywhere. His gaze darted left and right, but Manny and Ahmed were both asleep, so they weren’t coming to his rescue. He swallowed, but didn’t say anything.
Edwin nodded. “Yeah, I thought as much. You’re a common bully.
” He relaxed his hold on Daz a fraction.
“Firstly, you’re going to apologise to James for being so damn rude.
His name isn’t Jamie either, so you will be respectful.
Secondly, he’s fucking gorgeous, and shit hot in bed, so I don’t know what part of punching above his weight you could possibly mean.
” I had to bite back a gasp at his blatant lies, but holy hell, they made my chest feel tight and hot in a really good way.
Edwin continued. “Thirdly, this kitchen is a mess. James is going to take his snack and relax while I watch you clean it until it shines. You got me?”
Daz shot him a filthy look. “Oh aye, you and whose army says I’ve gotta listen to you?”
It’s a good job I suspected what was coming next or I might have pissed my pants. I’m not sure Daz didn’t. Edwin snarled, not a sound I’ve ever heard coming from a human, then he bared his fangs at Daz, ferocious and deadly. “I say. You. Will. Clean. Every. Inch. Of. This. Kitchen. Starting now!”
Daz shot into reverse, tears pooling in his bloodshot eyes as he gibbered his acquiescence.
Edwin drew me towards him and gently kissed the top of my head.
“Take your food and watch a film or something,” he said, careful as always to face me so I could hear him clearly.
“This…” He indicated Daz with a disdainful wave of his hand.
“Daz,” I said helpfully.
“This Daz person will be busy for a while. I’ll keep him company in case he slacks off.”
“Won’t you get cold?” I eyed the towel, then couldn’t help feasting my gaze on all his toned nakedness.
He shook his head. “Vampire, remember, love? I don’t get cold.” On his knees with a dustpan and brush, Daz whimpered. I couldn’t find it in me to have an ounce of sympathy. I took my noodles and went to sit on the sofa, wondering again why Edwin had lied to Daz.