Page 19 of Bullets and Blood (Hunting Hearts #1)

Chapter Sixteen

Nix wondered how long he’d have if he tapped his bank account. He’d gotten desperate enough to consider it twice but had backed out at the last moment. After spending a few days travelling around the towns in the southwest, today felt like a good day to test his luck.

“This is your grand plan?” Lance looked up at the shop’s sign.

“Yep. It’s the best I can come up with. But if you have a better one, I’m happy to change.”

Lance was silent for several moments. His grip on Nix’s hand tightened, then eased. He shook his head. “I don’t know how it will play out.”

“There are only two ways; they leave you here to follow, or they call you back.”

“And both ways, I fail.”

Nix studied Lance’s profile. The set of his lips and jaw.

He wasn’t going to tell him to shoot him now and turn him in.

He liked living. He didn’t like running.

The last few days of doing not much at all had been a reminder of what was missing in his life.

That he wanted Lance Orlan to fill that spot was a rather fatal error. His heart never made good choices.

“You could always join me.” Maybe if he had a partner, skulking around the bush and feasting on possums and snakes wouldn’t be so bad.

But Lance would get old long before him.

There’d come a point when Lance would look at Nix and hate his youthful face and body. Then they’d probably kill each other.

He swallowed the bitter rock that formed in his throat. This was a short-term thing. It wasn’t even supposed to be a thing.

Nix pushed open the camping store door and grabbed a trolley. He knew what he needed to make this look real. And if things went wrong, he’d have what he needed to vanish. The idea of crawling into the dark almost made him turn around and leave.

“They’ll come after me,” Lance said.

“And we’ll take them down together.” He tossed things into the trolley. Sleeping bag, tent, stove, water bottles.

“How do you even know what to get.” Lance picked up a first aid kit, and Nix took it off him and put it in the trolley.

“I took expedition at school much to my mother’s disgust—all the sun and being outdoors.

” He’d liked it then. It had been fun to camp with his friends and pretend that they were having to survive.

It was not fun when actually fighting to survive.

He’d gotten soft over the last four weeks.

He’d put down roots expecting to be allowed to grow.

He sighed and picked up a knitted beanie.

“Did you live to annoy your mother?”

“Sometimes.” Nix smiled. He’d wanted to make it very clear that he was living his life his way. “Not that she minded.”

Lance lowered his voice. “But she was the matriarch.”

“She was my mother first. Bedtime stories and grazed knees. Until I was about ten, I didn’t even realize our family was different.

When I was about fourteen, my friends got into horror movies.

It was then I understood what I’d been told.

That people would hate us. I promised myself I’d never be blooded.

That I’d stay human.” That had worked out really well for him.

“You had a normal childhood?”

“What? Did you think I hatched with a gun in my hand?”

Lance shook his head.

“Did you not?” Nix stopped and turned around to face Lance.

“My mother was busy. All children were raised by a family member. My cousins and I all grew up together, but our mothers were distant figures. She’d come by and talk to me about my report card and to assess me, then leave.”

“That’s…” On one hand, it would’ve prepared Nix better for the life he did have instead of teasing him with things that could never be his. On the other, at least he’d had a family who gave a damn. Lance was still trying to prove he was worthy.

“Messed up? Yeah.” It wasn’t bitterness in his eyes. “Your life was so perfect.”

Nix closed the gap. “You can have it. All of it. If I could tear this poisoned blood from my veins and give it to you, I would. One of us should be happy.” And it sure as hell wouldn’t be him.

He’d almost forgotten what that word meant.

Lance had made him remember, and he loved him and hated him for that.

“Do you need all of this if you aren’t actually going to be outdoors?”

Nix lifted an eyebrow. “But the rest of your family doesn’t know that. This has to look real. I know that you are on my tail?—”

“And you are making one last desperate roll.”

“Yeah. Because disappearing into the national parks makes more sense than making a truce and sleeping with my enemy.” Nix took the scarf out of Lance’s hand and dropped it in the trolley. He looped a purple one about his neck instead. “There is something we need to discuss.”

“What?”

“If you go back, you’ll be questioned.”

Lance nodded. “My aunt will ensorcell me to get the truth.”

“Yeah. I can muddy your memory, so you’ll forget me.” It was the only way he could protect Lance.

“You’ve done it before?”

“Just once.” It had nearly killed him to lose the man he’d been with for a year, but there was nothing else he could do.

“So my options are run or forget.”

“Or shoot me.” That was still an option. All he’d wanted was time and maybe make it hard for Lance to hurt him…that he cared what happened to Lance after was a rather uncomfortable thorn in his side.

“I should’ve said no.”

“You shouldn’t have left your number.”

“Now you know why I have no fangs.” Lance’s lips turned down.

Nix stole a kiss. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you need fangs.”

“You’re just saying that so I don’t shoot you.”

He grinned. “I think I’m done. You want that scarf?”

“Yeah. Are you actually going to pay for it? That must be over three grand worth of gear.”

As much as he wanted to know how fast the response would be, a small part of him fully expected an Orlan-run tactical team to descend on the store before he’d finished punching in his pin.

“Are you worried I’ll run before our truce is over?” Nix grabbed the ends of the scarf, pulled him closer, and ignored the cough from the sales assistant who was watching them rather too intently.

“I wish you would.” Lance’s lips moved against his. “Then I could chase you forever.”

That was almost the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to Nix.

He smiled and pressed closer. Lance slid a hand around his waist and held him.

He didn’t want the truce to ever end. They were both fools, living on borrowed time.

But borrowed time was some of the best time. It was the repayments that sucked.