Chapter 50
EDWIN
His place smelled of herbs and washing-up liquid. Trace, still as his true self, was poring over what looked like an accounts book. James was flicking through his phone. Both gave me their full attention as I stepped into the living room.
I rubbed the back of my neck, hating that once again I was apologising.
I really wasn’t used to explaining myself, and I was beginning to realise I wasn’t very humble, or overly sensitive either.
A dose of humility wouldn’t go amiss when Trace had laid out his past sins in black and white for us, his expression as he did so making it painfully clear he’d rather have been spared the agony.
And yet, we’d needed to know. James had asked outright, and I would have if he hadn’t beaten me to it.
I suspected Trace needed to offload it as well.
That kind of secret became a burden if held onto for too long.
For now, I attempted a smile. “Was the casserole good?”
James nodded. “Trace isn’t convinced by Quorn, but he bought some specially ’cause he knows I like the texture. He left the mushrooms out too, at great personal expense to his own tastebuds.”
“Mushrooms,” I mused. “I used to like those. Been a while, of course.” I gestured at the sofa. “All right if I sit down?”
“Edwin, it’s your home, you idiot,” Trace said with a hint of sharpness in his tone, but he flipped the book shut and came over to sit on the other end, where I could see his eyes were warm. “You don’t have to ask to come in here, ever.”
“Unless there’s a note on the door or something.
” We both looked at James. He shrugged. “I’m just saying.
Sometimes one of us is going to need a timeout.
With three of us, it will get heated or someone will need some space.
Trace never looks at his phone if he can help it, so old school works fine. ”
“Oh, of course! You don’t hate technology. You’re Fae; it hates you.” Well that cleared something else up.
Trace grinned. “Pretty much. Some days it’s fine.
Other days, I’m barely able to boot up my laptop.
Hence why I keep my accounts in paper files.
” He tucked his legs up under him in a way that seemed impossible considering their length, and inhaled, then let go a drawn-out breath.
“I know we seemed okay, y’know, earlier, but I’m still not sure of where we are right now.
James convinced me that you aren’t about to break up with me. Was he right?”
I gaped at him. “You thought I was going to break up with you? Trace, no. I said I needed some time, which I did. What you said, it shook me up a bit.” I raked my fingers through my hair, then met his gaze again.
“I love you, you bloody idiot. James is totally right.” I sighed and flung my head against the back of the sofa.
A sudden thought occurred to me. “No wonder Isher got the go-ahead to transform this place. Volik was in on it all along.” I eyed him. “Or was it Neele?”
“Neele sanctioned it. She felt embarrassed, I think. It was her sister that called for such a heavy sentence. It was a way to show me she hadn’t forgotten me.”
“That’s something, I suppose. So you’re related to Neele, not Volik?” I’d told myself I should learn more about Trace, and what better way than to ask after his family.
He winced. “I am, but seeing as I’m probably still persona non grata across the divide, perhaps we can look at my family tree some other time?” He didn’t sound cross, more weary. I could take a hint.
“Fair enough. I should probably explain why I did a runner last night.”
“Be helpful, aye,” James said pointedly.
Ouch. He’d not been kidding when he’d said it had only been confidence holding him back when we first met.
I could deal with snark from him any time though.
It warmed my heart to witness him blossoming daily into the man he’d evidently been before Cormack had stolen so much from him.
I acknowledged him, then faced Trace, raising my voice a little so James could hear clearly.
“It’s quite simple. The bloke I was with back before it all went wrong,” — Christ, what a euphemism for the utter devastation caused by a world war followed by a pandemic — “he was badly injured by an exploding shell.” I had to say this quickly.
“Fragments went everywhere. He lost an eye and half the left side of his face.” I could feel a choked sob clotting my throat.
“Your confession really shocked me. It could have been Bertie you dismissed so callously. I know you’ve changed and you’re not that man any more, but it gutted me to think it could have ever been him. You know?”
Trace looked utterly stricken. “Oh, Eddie.” His eyes watered and he opened his arms. We shuffled across the couch cushions to collide in the middle, and my sob broke free as he enclosed me in a hug, pulling me to his chest.
“It never mattered to me what Bertie looked like. He was still my darling Bertie, and…and…” I had to get a grip of myself, “…when you tried to fix James’ hearing…
” Another gulp. “…Bertie lost his hearing on his left side as part of his injuries. I was so bloody angry with you for daring to think James wasn’t perfect just as he was.
As he is. But I still wanted you so much.
And then…and then to learn you used to be the exact opposite of who I’ve been my whole life…
It’s all been a bit much.” My emotions in tatters, I slumped against him and forced myself to breathe slowly.
Fuck that nonsense about vampires not needing to breathe; going through the motions still worked well as a means of calming the mind as it ever had on my human body.
Trace held me even tighter. I could feel his arms trembling and I could tell he was crying from the occasional feather-light drip of a tear on the top of my head.
I could hear James’ racing heartbeat clattering over the thrum of Trace’s pulse, but I had nothing right now to offer either of them in terms of comfort.
Eventually, the dry, broken heaving that passed for crying with my kind abated and I sat up, knuckling my eye sockets which burned without the ability to actually shed tears. “Ahh, fuck. Sorry about that.”
“You have nothing to apologise for, Edwin. Nothing.” Trace scrubbed at his own eyes.
“I am so ashamed of the person I used to be. I promise you.” He took my face in his hands and inhaled a ragged gulp.
“You have always been a much better person than I. No,” he interrupted when I opened my mouth to argue, “I don’t mean whatever deeds you may have done.
I mean the fact you don’t judge and have apparently never judged someone by their physical attributes or lack of them.
If you genuinely care for someone, they are always whole to you. That is worthy of admiration.”
“I’m not blind to it. I do see disability.
It’s just not how I’d ever judge a person, you know?
” I felt it was essential for James to hear that.
I dropped my gaze to Trace’s shirt buttons, unable to bear the intensity of his molten honey eyes on me.
I wasn’t even sure he was entirely right seeing as I mostly hung out with other vampires, and even the most bedraggled human got a supernatural makeover when they were turned — the mysterious force behind our transformations presumably realising a certain something in the looks department went a long way to negating the need for too much thrall — but it was certainly true the only tears I’d shed for Bertie were ones of compassion for his suffering.
He’d still been the man I’d given my heart to, no matter his battered and scarred appearance.
It simply hadn’t mattered to me. He was him, no matter what ‘defects’ he had.
It was the same with James. His not-great hearing was merely something about him, like his pale blue eyes, his smattering of freckles, and his familiar Yorkshire gruffness when he spoke.
I shot James a quick look out of the side of my vision. He was almost vampire still, hanging on every word between Trace and me. I refocused on Trace.
“I don’t think I’m anything special. I just, well, I grew up in a poor neighbourhood.
Nobody had much, and this was years before the National Health Service, mind.
We looked after our own. If someone got sick, we did our best. We all knew the boy with the callipers or the pretty girl down the road with the curly hair who was learning impaired, and we kept an eye on them.
Not that we had a label for their issues, but it just was. I suppose it shaped me.”
“Nah, that’s crap.” James rose and came to stand near us, behind the sofa.
“I’m not saying you didn’t have some good folk around when you grew up, but…
people are mean. They teach their kids to be mean.
Kids can be fucking cruel. Not all of them, obviously, but you’re basically a decent bloke, Eddie. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“What he said.” Trace eyed me without blinking, then reached over to tuck a lock of my hair into place. “That’s better,” he said softly. “More you.” He pressed a kiss to my startled mouth, then beckoned James lower so he could offer him the same.
“You can forgive me then?” His tone was wary, as if he couldn’t quite believe I’d come back, let alone was willing to put the past behind me.
I sighed. “Course I do. It was a lifetime ago. If we’d all been there at the time, I might well have given you a thumping to teach you a lesson, then we’d have moved on.
Let’s do the same now, without the thumping.
You’re not that man any more. What you said shocked me, but it was more about me and Bertie than it ever was about you.
” I gestured for James to come around the sofa and pulled him down into the tight space between Trace and me.
“We need to think of something nice to do, as a threesome.”
James snorted. I raised my eyebrows at him. “Do tell.”
“Like it’s ever been an issue before, thinking about something to do. Your cock does most of your thinkin— Oh,” he broke off. “You actually meant something that doesn’t involve naked bodies, tissues, and lube, didn’t you?”
I groaned, feigning hurt. “I did, I’ll have you know. I don’t have a purely one-track mind.”
“Just mostly,” Trace quipped. The tension he’d been holding dropped from his shoulders and he smiled at me, something warm and hopeful. “I’ve been thinking. How about a trip somewhere?”
I wriggled backwards a bit so James had room to breathe. “Like where?”
“Well…Yorkshire perhaps? I think James might like to seek out his mother. Or, if he’s not ready for that, then how about the coast somewhere? We deserve a little holiday. It’s been quite some summer.”
“James?” I could hear his pulse pounding.
“How about both? Perhaps look up my mum, but have a seaside trip booked for after, in case it’s not a happy reunion. If we can afford it. I’m sorry, I don’t have enough savings to contribute much.”
“Baby,” I fixed him with a stern glare, “paying for things is my job. Your blood on tap has made me the happiest man alive, even before we became lovers. You could sit there and look pretty all day and I’d still be getting the bargain of the millennium.”
Trace chuckled. “That’ll be the day, when our James becomes a gentlemen of leisure. He’s a grafter, this one. And we love you for it, sweetheart.”
James went pink. “Shut up, fuck’s sake. Sappy pair.” He squirmed on my lap though, so I knew he was pleased.
I tweaked his ear. “Let’s get you a haircut first though, please?” His hands shot up defensively. “I can thrall any barber into ignoring your ears. And I’m not suggesting a short back and sides. Just a good trim and a thin out. You’re beginning to resemble Shaggy from Scooby Doo.”
Trace snorted. James gave me his narrowed-eyes look. “Dude, that’s just mean.”
I shrugged, unrepentant. “He’s a fun character, but you’re way hotter. I want to see your pretty face next time you fuck me into the mattress. Please,” I added, batting my lashes like the flirt I was.
“Fine! I give in. But good luck finding a barber open after sunset.” He smirked and got to his feet.
“Now we’ve sorted out we’re all okay again, I want to get off.
Can we all get naked?” He held up a hand.
“Actually, no. I’ll keep my clothes on. You two can see who can get me off without touching my cock. Winner gets the next fuck. Game?”
I have no shame in admitting I used my vampire strength to hold Trace back from reaching the bedroom first. It was going to be a long, sticky night and I couldn’t wait.