Page 13

I ggy jerked awake with a gasp, wincing at the dryness of his eyes. He could just feel the contours of his contacts. But then he tried to move, and he had a whole slew of other issues to worry about. Mainly the fact that he couldn’t.

Glancing down, Iggy cursed as he saw the thick layered ropes currently holding him to a metal chair, which appeared to be bolted to the floor. In addition to the ropes around him, some sort of mechanism was immobilizing his fingers. He couldn’t wiggle them, let alone bend them, giving him no way to even attempt to free himself.

Iggy was also in a white polo…and khakis. He looked like he’d raided Tony’s more than questionable closet.

Growling with irritation, he looked up and glanced around. The room was large, and the metal walls reminded him of a warehouse, which fit, as there were crates all around and a whole bunch piled up behind him. Across from Iggy, on the far wall, there was a large, closed metal sliding door, and to his right, sat a pair of double doors with frosted glass windows.

Where the hell was he, and what the hell had happened? Iggy bit his lip, his brow pulling as he tried to remember. While his ass still ached a bit from his fun time with Santiago, he wasn’t hurt, from what he could tell. Besides a slight headache, and his dry eyes, and the fact that he was almost positive all of his piercings were gone…and he was now wearing clothes he’d never be caught dead in, he felt fine. Yeah, scleral contacts were really not a good thing to be wearing wh ile kidnapped. But they didn’t have spells to solve photophobia like they did to change hair color, so…guess he’d suffer?—

His thoughts came to a screeching halt. “No…” he rasped, his eyes widening. His heart started to race as he remembered something he wished he hadn’t. “The Guild…”

Was Tony… No…he couldn’t think like that. He didn’t know, but until he was sure, he wasn’t going to think about it. Iggy couldn’t let himself, not when he didn’t know where the fuck he was, and who had him… The question was…what happened?

He’d been talking to Oceana. No, Iggy had been yelling at her, because he had been mad that she couldn’t get the back door open, and because she had refused to steal a fire truck with him when the bastards wouldn’t fucking do their job. Tony…everyone…had to be okay, right? Tony had survived a lot more…

Iggy tensed, looking towards the double doors when he heard the sound of footsteps. Through the frosted glass, he could just make out a set of stairs going up. Iggy barely stopped his pain-filled groan as the last person he ever wanted to see again stepped out of the stairwell.

“Maverick… It's been what…eleven-twelve years?” He eyed the man with a grimace.

With a square jaw, pronounced brow, thin lips, and a strong but crooked pointed nose, the man looked all of his forty-eight years. He had deep lines at his eyes and around his mouth that, based on what Iggy knew, were likely frown lines.

Fake tan, and short styled, bleach-blond hair that had definitely come from a bottle, the human was just as thickly muscled as the last time he’d unfortunately seen him. It also looked like Maverick was just as bad as sizing his clothing as he had been back then. While his black pants and shoes fit well enough, the white dress shirt seemed to be straining to stay on him with each movement he made.

Maverick smiled, as his gaze did a way too creepy, slow sweep over him. “Too long, that’s for sure, Ignatius.”

Not long enough , he thought when the man approached and stopped in front of him. He was only a foot away now, and way too close for comfort.

“I suppose you are wondering why I took you. ”

“You guessed it,” Iggy chimed with fake cheer.

Either the man had missed his sarcasm, or had chosen to ignore it, as he carried on unperturbed. “Truthfully, taking you was unplanned. Just the hand of God himself guiding me to you. There I was, watching the Guild burn, and who should appear but you. I’m glad that you weren’t inside, though.”

He flinched back the moment Maverick reached for him, his jaw clenching while the other human caressed his cheek. Oh, Iggy really hoped it wasn’t Maverick who had bad touched him and removed all his piercings. Because someone had! As it really was the only way to remove a dick piercing without permission. Not to mention, the whole waking up in different clothes thing. And Iggy was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing boxers…anymore—ugh.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

Of course, he did. Family was dead, yet Iggy still ended up with a creepy, religion obsessed uncle that no one fucking liked. As if his actual parents hadn’t been bad enough.

At least he could smile and sit there fantasizing about Santiago, whose dick he could still feel, while he listened to the nutjob no doubt rant about his hatred, right?

Fuck, fuckity, fuck…

Holding the blood bag to his mouth, Harlow suppressed a yawn as he sat down on the edge of the hotel bed after he’d finished removing his jacket and all of his weapons and holsters. His fangs, directly punctured into the bag, did all of the work, as there was no way in fucking hell he was drinking through a straw when it wasn’t Foxx’s blood.

A fact he was desperately trying to not think about, due to the risk of gagging. Harlow wasn’t sure if it was possible to throw up the blood he was currently ingesting, and he was not willing to find out, because he was way too fucking tired to deal with having to clean it up .

Harlow had driven them six hours towards a supposed group of Humanity’s Last Stand members, and he’d decided that since Gavin needed to double check some things, they’d get some sleep before driving the last four hours to wherever the fuck they were going in Alabama. Mainly, as he and Foxx would be in no condition to fight even if they continued.

It was May 17th, early in the AM, and they had been up since just before noon on the 15th. He was exhausted and hungry. Harlow just wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep first or eat. He was leaning towards sleep now that he was on his fourth bag of blood. Regular food was nice and all, but sleep sounded better. Though, kicking Gavin out of their room seemed like the first step to achieving that.

Harlow eyed Foxx and Gavin. The two were sitting at the small table in the room, only feet away from him, looking over a paper map that the dragon had spread out between them. Foxx’s chair was sideways beside the table.

“Why not just use our laptop, or yours? You messed with them for a reason, right? Also, why are you in our room?” Foxx asked somewhat testily, after he’d finished his third bag of blood and tossed it with the others in a trash bin marked medical waste.

He was pretty sure that the vampire not using a straw emphasized how tired the man was. Though the deep bags under his eyes, and his horrible mood, were outlining that fact well enough. His brat did not do well without sleep. Though, this was more than just lack of sleep. The vampire had been very quiet for the last six hours, worryingly so. He’d also been texting on his phone constantly.

“They are secure, yes.” Gavin laughed. “But there's nothing wrong with being a bit paranoid. And the less digital footprints we leave behind, the better. We are going old school, aren’t we?”

Tugging his fangs free of the empty bag, Harlow stood up and tossed it into the bin next to Foxx, before grunting, “Yes, now get out. We can plan tomorrow.”

“Oh, but I was thinking of running out to grab some food. Don’t you two want any?!”

He looked to Foxx. The vampire shook his head.

He smiled smugly at Gavin. “No. Go. ”

The dragon huffed. “Fine, fine. Sleep then.” The man folded up his map and stood, holding his hand out to him.

Harlow’s gaze flicked to the man’s hand and then his face, his brow raised.

“Keys?”

He rolled his eyes as he pulled his car keys out, handing them over…again. Might as well just fucking give him his extra set at this point.

Gavin smiled, but as he looked down, he laughed. Holding up Harlow’s keys, the man was looking at the boxy cat that was dangling from them. “How cute!”

“Go,” he growled threateningly.

“Going!” The dragon laughed, but the man paused as he was turning to leave, just staring at Harlow.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. A suspicion that turned out to be valid when the man rushed him, grabbing Harlow up into a hug. He growled deeply, but didn’t have a chance to do anything more, as the dragon had let go and was already fleeing out of the room before he could.

“Motherfucker…” he hissed at the closed door.

Huffing, Harlow looked back towards Foxx and found him tapping away on his phone.

Moving directly in front of the vampire, Foxx glanced up, his eyes closing briefly when Harlow ran his hands over the man’s black curls. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”

Sighing, his boyfriend set his phone down on the table. “Too much.”

“Who have you been talking to for the last six hours? It's been kind of constant.”

“Well, there was Sephira. She just wanted to offer her condolences, and said she and her coven were there for us if we needed anything. Then it was Alastair, along with Daydric, as he was worried. Then there were a few friends that you haven’t met yet. But mostly…I’ve been talking to…”

“To?”

“Tony.”

His brow rose at that. “Tony…? ”

Foxx nodded. “I donated money to help with all of the funerals. It should cover most of it. Just thought it would be wrong for the families to be shouldered with all that, even if the Guild will cover some things…”

“Ah…sometimes I forget how rich you are.”

Foxx chuckled weakly. “It really was nothing…and I’m not the only one who donated. Apparently, many of the hunters who lost their partners did as well. Along with ones who weren’t there… They will have more than enough. Tony said they’d put whatever wasn’t used into a fund for future services. As likely there will be more eventually, right? With how our job is.”

Yeah, the one thing guaranteed in their job was that the funerals would keep coming.

“Eventually, there always is,” Harlow hummed, kissing the vampire’s forehead. “I’m sure the families appreciate it.”

Picking Foxx up, the man didn’t move much as he sat him on the bed and worked his boots off.

“They’d probably prefer their loved ones back,” Foxx murmured softly. “Anyway, most of the texting was me helping Tony to make arrangements. I hadn’t realized that funeral homes had changed their hours with us becoming legal, but it seems they have. There is a lot more to do for those who didn’t have any family left. Turns out, Charity falls into that category. I feel lost helping with most of them, as I didn’t know them, but with her, I seem to know more than I thought I did. She was right, you know?”

“About what?” Harlow asked as he straightened from his crouch. Sitting next to the man, he kicked off his own boots.

“Her fiancée wouldn’t have stuck around…and she isn’t now, apparently. Charity doesn’t have anyone left, aside from a niece. That’s what she meant by the alone comment. So that’s why I’m helping Tony plan it.” The vampire sniffed, his eyes now glossy.

“What a bitch.”

“Yeah.” Foxx swallowed hard, he could tell the man was barely holding his tears back. “Tony said he’d wait until we got back to hold the funeral, but… He sent me the coroner's report. I guess…he wanted me to know he wasn’t lying…and he wasn’t. I-I don’t know—” The va mpire swallowed again when his voice cracked. “—how I missed it.”

At the first tear that broke free, Harlow pulled Foxx into his arms, resting back with him on his chest. Slowly, he began to run his hand up and down the vampire’s back. “It’s easy to miss things when they are things you don’t want to see.”

“Maybe. Either way, it could be months before we are back. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her waiting like that for so long. She can’t have an open casket anyway.”

“When are they holding it?”

“Next week.”

“We could swing by?”

Foxx shook his head, before pressing his face into Harlow’s chest. “No, I can’t. I don’t think I can face her until he’s dead.”

“Okay, then we won’t.”

“Tony said that he wasn’t good at picking things, and he figured I probably knew what she liked better than him. So that’s what I did… I picked things out for her funeral, because we did talk. More than I remembered.”

Harlow’s arms tightened around the vampire when Foxx’s voice caught. He knew the exact moment the man started to cry harder as the wetness on his shirt spread with them. “I-I mean…we just talked about stupid things. Fashion…TV shows… But I’ve known for months that her favorite flower was Tiger Lilies…specifically t-the orange ones. Because they were…bright and vibrant…as if they r-refused to be overlooked… Just…like…her.” Foxx's tears turned to sobs.

Harlow had to say, if he had to pick what emotion he'd prefer to deal with, grief was worse than fear. Sure, he was fucking lost with both, but at least with fear he had a target, and a way to possibly make Foxx feel safer. But with grief… Harlow had no clue how to make it better, and he didn’t even have the right lies anymore to try.

From what he understood, lies in grief were the only comfort. He just didn’t have them. He had a few for Elowen, but they’d never felt right when he said them, and they obviously had sounded off to her too. So, he’d just wiped them from his mind. Also, Harlow didn’t want to lie to Foxx about something like this …

He hesitated before saying the only thing he thought he could. “I’m sorry, Foxx. I’m sorry we couldn’t save her.”

It was the truth, Harlow felt… He supposed it wasn’t exactly regret, but he did feel this regretful-esk unease about what happened.

“W-why?!” Foxx sobbed. “Why do the good humans always die long before they s-should?!”

“Because the bad always live longer than they should.”

The vampire started to cry harder.

“I’m sorry, Foxx. I’m sorry I don’t have the right words to help you. I can’t…feel sadness. I wish I could at the moment, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He found himself repeating the last part, even if he didn’t know why.

Holding the man tight, apologizing for something he couldn’t change, Harlow just laid there feeling helpless and…enraged…