Page 18 of Bound in Blood (Vampires of Boston #1)

Chapter

Twelve

LOGAN

T he next night, Logan insisted upon going back to work.

There’d been no sign of whatever vampire caused the attack near his apartment, not even after hours of searching. Logan was restless and needed something to distract his mind.

He hadn’t ever thought about how much he’d needed a routine until the dust had begun to settle on this whole ‘rogue vampire’ thing.

In the past week, he’d died, come back to life as a vampire, became soulmates with not just one but two men, drank blood, moved into the nicest house he’d ever seen in his life, and gotten tangled up in a murder mystery.

Making a couple of Long Islands for drunk college kids sounded like heaven.

He’d called the bar to ask if he still even had a job, but Alexei had apparently already taken care of that for him.

When Alexei had noticed Logan hadn’t shown up for work, he’d compelled Vik, the owner of the bar and Logan’s boss, into giving Alexei Logan’s home address.

Once he’d made sure Logan was okay, he’d made up a story about Logan coming down with some mystery illness.

When Logan called the bar, Vik was just glad to hear that Logan was feeling better, and told him to come back in whenever he was ready.

Logan was more than ready.

He was standing in his room (his actual room, not Mateo’s), stripped down to his underwear, rifling through his two suitcases for his work clothes.

Marco sat on the bed behind him, jaw set tight, arms crossed, looking like he was bracing himself for a battle he knew he was going to lose.

Logan knew Marco wanted to argue until he agreed to stay home, but Logan wasn’t going to budge.

He’d finally found his pants and began the hunt for his work shirt when Mateo entered his room, leaning against the door frame, eyes raking hungrily over Logan’s body like he wasn’t in the middle of staging an intervention. “I still think this is a terrible idea.”

Logan snatched the black tee from the very bottom of his suitcase, doing his best to shake out the wrinkles. “Noted.”

“He’s right, Logan,” Marco said, his voice almost pleading. “You don’t have to do this. We have more than enough money to?—”

Logan paused, halfway through struggling into his shirt.

All these new powers and he still couldn’t figure out which hole was for his head.

He took a deep breath as he finally got his arm into the correct sleeve, reminding himself that they weren’t trying to control him.

They just didn’t understand how bad he needed some sense of normalcy.

“I know. If it were about money, I’d tell you.” Logan pulled his head through the top of his shirt, adjusting the tee until the gold The Pyre logo was displayed unwrinkled against his chest. “I like my job. And I figured, I can see if anyone’s talking about the bodies from yesterday.”

Marco’s frown deepened, but Mateo hummed in approval. “Using your job as an excuse to spy? I can respect that.”

Marco shot him a glare, looking like he was one wrong word from setting his brother on fire. “Don’t encourage him. He’s going to go out trying to play hero and end up becoming a martyr.”

Logan sighed, rolling his eyes as he stepped into his work pants. “I’m not saying I don’t understand your hesitation, but I need this. I can’t just sit around waiting to be fed like a pet dog.”

“You’re not a dog, tesoro, you’re not yappy enough.” Mateo laughed. “You’re like… Marco, what’s he like?”

“Don’t pull me into this,” Marco groaned, pausing a moment before adding, “Ginger cat.”

Logan stopped forcing his belt through the stupid loops of his jeans for long enough to glare at the both of them. “Should I be offended?”

Marco shrugged, entirely unbothered. “Independent, stubborn, pretends not to want attention but secretly loves it.”

Mateo snorted. “Yeah. That tracks.”

Logan scowled, tightening his belt a little too aggressively. “You two are the actual fucking worst.”

Mateo grinned, stepping closer until he was well within what Logan would consider his ‘personal space,’ readjusting the collar of Logan’s shirt.

“You know, you could stay home. Just for tonight…” He walked two fingers up Logan’s chest, brushing over his throat, before tilting Logan’s chin up to meet his eyes.

His voice dipped low, intimate, teasing, “Pick up where we were so rudely interrupted yesterday?”

Logan swallowed hard, heat pooling low in his gut.

He was so hyper-aware of the way Mateo’s fingers traced the curve of his throat, the heat in his gaze that promised so much more than just teasing.

It was easy—too easy—to imagine staying.

To picture Mateo pushing him back onto his bed, Marco pressing him down, really taking their time with him.

He’d barely gotten a taste of Marco last night, and he was desperate for more.

God, he was so sure they’d make it worth his while.

Mateo, the absolute bastard, sensed Logan’s hesitation.

His lips curved into something wicked as he leaned in, gripping Logan’s belt loops, pressing Logan’s body up against his own.

“We could keep you occupied all night, tesoro, ” he purred, breath hot against Logan’s ear, “Make you forget all about that stupid job.”

But Logan wasn’t stupid, and he knew exactly what Mateo was doing.

He huffed, swatting Mateo’s hand away. “Nice try, but I’m still going.” His voice came out much rougher than he intended. He’d be half-hard the entire drive there, but he was still going.

Mateo pouted dramatically, stepping back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

Marco pinched the bridge of his nose like he was getting a migraine, even though Logan was pretty sure that wasn’t physically possible. “If you’re insisting upon going, we need to set some ground rules.”

Logan groaned. “Great. Here we go.”

Marco looked at him with an expression torn between exasperation and concern. “I know. We don’t want to control your whole life, Logan, but you haven’t really been around humans since you turned, and if you expose yourself, you could potentially expose us all.”

“Think of all the freaky science experiments the government would do on you if they found out you can’t die,” Mateo added unhelpfully, “Or if you drained someone and got sent to jail? You get grouchy if we’re more than a room away from you. Could you imagine prison?”

“Fine, fine. Point proven. Though that’s not really my fault so much as the mate-bond,” Logan mumbled.

“Mm, sure. Anyway…” Mateo held up a finger, “Rule One: Marco, Alexei or I will be within a mile of the bar at any given time during your shift. We won’t be creepy and hang out in the corner or whatever, but we’re close enough that if you need us, you can text or call.”

“Rule Two,” Marco said, as Mateo held up a second finger, “If you feel the slightest bit off—hungry, dizzy, anything—you call one of us. No exceptions.”

Logan huffed. “Yes, Mother.”

Mateo smirked, sticking out his thumb, “Rule Three: Try your best not to show off any new superhuman abilities. Make sure if you’re lifting anything, you’re pretending to struggle, make a customer repeat themselves a time or two if the music is too loud, etc.

, etc. Everyone should believe you’re the weak little human you were less than a week ago. ”

Logan rolled his eyes, but nodded. As far as rules went, these weren’t too bad. “Yeah, yeah. Noted.”

“Just keep alert and try not to do anything stupid. If you do happen to hear any gossip about the bodies, let us know, okay?” Mateo stepped back into Logan’s space, kissing his forehead before Logan had a chance to protest.

He sighed, acting offended at the gesture, but he couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at his lips.

He could see it—the genuine worry in Marco’s eyes.

The way Mateo tried to act like everything was fine but kept shifting on his feet like he was holding himself back from outright forbidding Logan from leaving.

But honestly? It was kind of… nice.

Nobody had ever worried about Logan before, not really.

Sure, his boss gave Logan shit when he felt like he’d been working too hard, and a few of the regulars would tip him extra when they noticed him picking up extra shifts toward the end of the month, but this was different. Or at least it felt different to Logan.

“No stupid shit. I promise,” Logan agreed finally.

Marco studied him for a moment before nodding.

“Good. We’ll hold you to that.” He stood from his spot on Logan’s bed, crossing the room to Logan and kissing him on the forehead just as his brother had done a minute ago.

“There. Now it’s even,” he murmured softly, pressing his forehead to Logan’s for just a second.

His hand skimmed Logan’s waist, like he was ready to hold him there.

Then, just as quickly, he pulled back, expression unreadable.

Logan blinked up at him, only caught slightly off guard, almost convinced not to even bother with work.

It would be almost too easy to let them take care of him for all eternity, wouldn’t it?

Instead, he rolled his eyes to cover how flustered a couple of forehead kisses had made him.

“I’m going to be late if y’all don’t stop. ”

Mateo shook his head. “Then leave before we try harder to convince you to change your mind.” He gave Logan a once-over, eyes pointedly stopping on the bulge in Logan’s jeans, “I’m not sure it would be that difficult.”

“I’m leaving ,” Logan announced, marching out into the hallway, “Try not to miss me too much.”

Marco muttered something under his breath in Italian, and Mateo just shook his head, grinning, “Hard to miss you when we’ll be stalking you all night.”

Logan flipped him off without looking back before descending the stairs, taking a deep breath, and stepping outside.

Here goes nothing.