Page 4 of Surging Reef

Kazimir didn’t know what was up with Pharos. He never growled. Not even when he’d been injured on the side of the road and Kazimir had picked him up had he growled.

“What is it, boy?”

He’d let go of him when they’d reached the bottom floor again, but he was huddling behind Kazimir, growling. His teeth were visible in the dark. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

It was a lovely lighthouse, but there was something off with its energy. He wouldn’t have wanted to live here, and he could picture himself living in almost every lighthouse he entered.

What if it was the ghosts of all those people killed here during the Middle Ages who had come back to haunt it?

“We’re okay, bud.” He spoke in a whisper as he moved his phone around, aiming the flashlight in every possible direction.

He shivered. It could be because he was dripping wet and not wearing anything but a wet T-shirt and trunks.

He’d put on his shoes before he’d climbed the metal ladder up to the dock area.

There was a metal platform, a little rusty from what he could see in the light of his phone and the moon, but magical anyway.

The lantern room had been amazing. He could’ve stood there and looked out over the sea for ages, but Pharos had been restless.

Maybe he was afraid of the dark? Nah, they’d been on nightly excursions before.

He moved through a doorway and took in what looked like an old pantry. Everything inside was in good condition. He’d been to see two hundred fifty-three lighthouses, two hundred fifty-four with this, and apart from those open to tourists, they normally weren’t this well-kept.

Backing out of the room, he turned to the next doorway. Before he could enter, Pharos stepped in front of him and growled, more viciously this time.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was a little shakier than he wanted it to be. Crouching, he curled an arm around Pharos and lifted him. His muscles were tense, and the growl vibrated through him, making his tiny body tremble. He kept on growling, but his focus wasn’t on Kazimir. It was on the dark room.

Kazimir swallowed hard and swept the light over the interior, only to shriek. On the floor was a skeleton.

He stood frozen, his grip on Pharos way too hard, but he couldn’t make himself let up. Fuck no.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Why had he come here tonight? Would he be suspected of murder now?

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t back away, couldn’t move forward. His entire body was frozen. His breaths were coming too fast.

Who did you call when you found a body?

Pharos pushed at him to be let down, and Kazimir slowly lowered him to the floor. The strobe from the flashlight was shaking but never left the skeleton.

It wasn’t a skeleton. It had skin. And modern clothes. It wasn’t a ghost from the Middle Ages playing a prank on him.

Fuck.

“Eh…hello?” No reply.

“Ghost of horrors past?” Not a sound.

Kazimir blew out a breath. “What the fuck do we do, Pharos?”

Pharos kept on growling.

Hesitantly, Kazimir took a step closer. Pharos mirrored his motion, but with his head held low and his lips peeled back.

Kazimir took another step, then another.

He focused the light on the skeleton’s hand. There was fresh blood on its fingertips. Or not fresh as in bleeding, but it didn’t look to be hundreds of years old.

He leaned a little closer. Then he was slammed to the floor, the skeleton moving over him, too strong to be real. Kazimir screamed and dropped his phone, but the light slid over the skeleton’s face.

Sharp teeth.

Pharos snarled and jumped on it. The skeleton flung him away as if he were no more than an annoying fly.

“No! Don’t touch him.”

A hand grabbed Kazimir’s hair and pushed his head back uncomfortably, baring his throat.

Then there was a slicing pain.

Kazimir’s breath froze in his lungs.

What the fuck was happening? The skeleton was sucking on him. Cold seeped through him.

The skeleton was eating him.

He shuddered but didn’t move otherwise. Stunned. He should fight, but his limbs didn’t obey.

Pharos’ growls competed with his rasping breaths. If he died here, who’d look after Pharos? He’d only found his home a few weeks ago. It wasn’t fair.

He never should’ve come to Surging Reef. When he’d read people died here, he should’ve taken it seriously, not as some cool, long-ago story.

“Hey, stop.” He didn’t move, didn’t try to push the skeleton away.

If he did, he might tear his own throat out because he was pretty sure there were teeth buried in him.

Fuck, would he turn into a monster now? What did ghouls look like?

The teeth, though. He’d only seen them for a moment, but… vampire?

They weren’t real.

Cold replaced his soul as life left him.

The skeleton didn’t stop, but maybe it slowed its swallows. He wasn’t sure.

“If you kill me, you have to take care of Pharos. He deserves better than to starve to death in a lighthouse.” And Kazimir didn’t think there was any dog food here. His hands shook as he placed them on the skeleton’s shoulders.

Only the shoulders didn’t feel skeletal anymore.

The hold on his hair gentled, and Kazimir could move his head a fraction to make it more comfortable.

The skeleton was solid against him, and Kazimir wished he could look at it.

Pharos moved closer, and Kazimir moved one hand from the skeleton’s shoulder to ward him off. “Stay.”

The skeleton stilled. Kazimir wouldn’t say he tensed, but there was awareness in him.

Then he licked Kazimir’s throat, making him shiver. So weird.

He did it again and again. When he was done, he slid down a fraction and rested his forehead against Kazimir’s sternum.

“Erm…” He slid his fingers over his throat. Two bumps but nothing else—no blood, no scabs.

* * * *

Ashby breathed hard as life came back to him. He could feel the blood rushing through his body, his heart beating a little too fast.

Seconds went by, minutes, then the body underneath him let out a shuddering breath.

Ashby raised his head and looked at him. Dark hair, a nose with a little bump on the ridge and lips pressed into a thin line. Attractive despite not being classically handsome. Human.

Another growl filled the room. Ashby looked over at the source and almost laughed. It was a small dog—not the tiny being-carried-in-a-handbag kind, but small. It was limping as it circled closer, and Ashby noted the pink cast on its back leg. Fuck, he’d thrown it, hadn’t he?

He wasn’t a huge fan of dogs. He didn’t dislike them, but he’d never wanted to take on the responsibility of caring for another living being. It didn’t mean he wanted to hurt it.

“Stay.”

Ashby almost jumped when the man underneath him spoke. He hadn’t been about to move, but he didn’t mind staying. It had been a long time since he’d held anyone close.

Then he realized he was talking to the dog.

How much blood had he taken? Was the man too weak to get up? He should speak. What did you say to someone you’d attacked? Hi, my name is Ashby and I’m a bloodoholic?

He didn’t normally attack people. Seduction was a better and safer approach. The circumstances hadn’t allowed it this time around.

He cleared his throat, and the man’s eyes widened before focusing on him. He’d been focused on the dog until now.

“I’m Ashby.” He didn’t think the man knew. It would surprise him greatly if Anne had hired a human to come here.

When the man didn’t respond, Ashby changed position only to hiss. The chain was still attached to his leg, and it was still made of silver.

Maybe he was strong enough to break it now before his strength drained away again. He flew off the man and grabbed it. The way his palms burned and blistered had him snarling, but he tried to yank it. No success.

He yanked again, the metal sizzling, the scent of charred flesh attacking his nostrils, and he gagged.

“What are you doing?”

“The chain. Silver.”

There was some rustling, then light was aimed at him. The phone.

“Ugh. What the fuck is that?”

“Silver.” Ashby breathed hard, trying to make his brain work, to come up with a way to get out of the chain.

“You’re allergic to silver?”

He flashed fangs at the man who scrambled away. No! Fuck, now he was out of reach. “Sorry.”

The man snorted and crawled over to the dog. Had Ashby gone insane, or was the man wearing shoes, underwear, and a shirt? No pants. Who left their house not wearing pants?

“We’ll…eh…leave you to it.” The man swayed as he stood, a hand flying out to steady himself on the wall, then he crouched and dropped his head while panting. Fuck, Ashby had taken too much blood.

The man then held out his arm, and the dog walked closer. He hugged it to his chest and slowly stood, more or less leaning on the wall. The pink leg remained in an outstretched position. It looked ridiculous.

“Please, don’t leave me.” He hadn’t meant to sound so pathetic, but the idea of this man—insane or not—leaving him here made fear curl around him. “She’ll kill me.”

The man hesitated. “Who is she?”

“Anne, the vampire queen.”

He frowned, the light from the phone shaking slightly. “Vampire queen. You’re a vampire? Wait! What the fuck, dude! Will I be a vampire now?” He raised the hand he held the phone in to his throat and touched the place where Ashby had bitten him.

“No. It isn’t contagious.”

“And you’re sure you’re not a ghoul? This is a graveyard after all.”

Ashby stared, trying not to feel the silver eating his flesh. “Not a ghoul. I don’t think ghouls are real.”

“You don’t think they’re real? Well, I don’t think vampires are real, so where does that leave us?”

Eh…“In a lighthouse?”

The man snapped his mouth shut and nodded briskly. “I guess.”

“Please, don’t leave.”

The man shifted his weight, adjusted his hold on the dog, and sighed. “I know it might sound selfish, but I don’t feel like meeting your queen.”

“She’s not my queen. Or I guess she is, but she’s not a queen like a human queen is queen. She’s the ruler of Waterside.”

The man stared and kept on staring for an eternity. “And you’re waiting for her here? Chained to the wall.”

Ashby huffed. “She put me here. I’d love to get out.”

The man gestured toward the doorway, then he pursed his lips. “If I come near you, will you bite me again?”

Ashby smiled his best smile. “Only if you want me to.”

“No. If you so much as think about biting me, I’ll kill you. Or leave you here to…melt.” He gestured at the chain and grimaced.

“I can make it good.”

“No offense, dude, but it wasn’t exactly pleasurable.”

Ashby winced. No, he imagined not. “I could make it—”

“You want out of the chain or not?”

“Yes, I want out of the chain.”

The man nodded and left the room. Ashby almost choked on his breath. Was he leaving? “Hey!”

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