Page 6 of The Vampire's Werewolf Bodyguard

Cody

Cody stares at his own hands like they’re a threat. He could snap at any moment, nails sharpening into claws, reason crumbling into feral instinct. Less than an hour on the job, and he’s already lost control with his hands around his principal’s wrists.

Stopping a vampire from tearing out his throat? Fine. Involuntary shifting? Not fine. Especially because Simon hadn’t been a threat at all. He’d been weak as a human in Cody’s grasp.

The guest room smells of faded gardenia detergent. Dust. The scent of death dissipates quickly; Simon doesn’t spend time in this room.

Cody should call Tobias and quit. Assignment, career, everything. Vampires have slaughtered werewolves for thousands of years. Werewolves have returned the violent favor. How the fuck is Cody supposed to protect Simon with his wolf constantly snarling under the surface?

Except it wasn’t anger that drove Cody’s partial shift tonight. It was concern.

Cody jolts himself out of depressing hand contemplation. Time to familiarize himself with his temporary territory. Movement helps control his wolf, enough for Cody to think.

He’s never seen a vampire faint before.

Not that Cody’s spent much time with vampires. But they definitely don’t faint, and Simon’s reaction was telling. Alarmed, defensive. Like he was scared of Cody. Trying to hide his weaknesses. Cody understands that. He doesn’t like it, because a secretive charge will make this job even harder. But he understands it.

In the dusty, ordinary bathroom, Cody catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, wrinkled shirt, bad decisions. That’s the face of a fucking idiot—because Simon’s defensive secrecy makes Cody want to stay.

That poison fucked Simon up bad. Maybe it’ll wear off in a few days. Maybe it won’t. Until then, Simon needs protection, and there’s nobody else to take that job. If Simon knew another vampire who could do it, they would be here instead. Hunters and witches are out of the question when the assailant was human.

Cody might be a loner, but his pack instinct is still too strong to abandon someone in need.

So instead of calling to quit, Cody texts Tobias: About to inspect the system, will report any issues. Heads up, Simon hated me on sight. This is going to be a hell of a job .

Tobias replies almost immediately: Understood, I’ve got your back. Luckily, he’s not the client.

Warning his boss about a difficult principal is normal. Tobias’s reassurance is normal too. Cody’s thumb hovers over the screen. Then he shoves his phone in his pocket without sending anything else. Too fucking cowardly to ask how his own cover-up is going.

Tobias is handling that. Cody has to focus on his own job, even if he’d rather throw himself on the dusty bed and sleep for a week.

His tour of the downstairs is quick. No surprises.

Well, the bottles of blood in the fridge are a surprise, but they shouldn’t have been. This is a vampire’s lair, after all. Standing in the cold white light, Cody smells the faintest trace of blood. A subtly strange element softens the scent. Must be the weird herbs the bottlers use to preserve the blood while keeping it palatable.

Fuck. What would his old pack think of him working for a vampire? Working for a human company is already bad enough.

Cody closes the fridge. He’ll need to arrange a grocery delivery for tomorrow, unless he wants to hunt rabbits in the woods.

***

Seven p.m.

Cody is on his second mug of coffee when a door closes downstairs. Which means the opening wasn’t loud enough for Cody’s werewolf senses to catch from the kitchen—good to know.

Sipping his coffee, Cody leans against the counter. His view of the main hallway is clear, but Simon could still avoid him by staying below ground.

Surprisingly, Simon pauses in the kitchen doorway a few minutes later. “Where did you get that?”

“The coffee?” Cody asks. He’d found the mug in the cupboards, along with a twenty-year-old coffee maker still in its box. Lots of mugs and glasses, very few plates. Simon clearly drinks his meals.

Simon points at the sink, where a pan is soaking. “I smell eggs, too.”

“I had groceries delivered,” Cody says. “I brought the perishables and coffee in this morning, but there’s another batch I’ll need to bring in tonight.”

Waking up to meet the first delivery hadn’t exactly helped Cody’s exhaustion. Adjusting to nocturnal hours is rough. But he wanted to get a few weeks’ worth of groceries in at once. The fewer deliveries, the fewer strangers on the property. And he doesn’t intend to start a predictable schedule.

He made a point to avoid any food with garlic.

“I suppose you need to eat,” Simon remarks, neutral. “Did they come in?”

Oh. That concern makes more sense than any interest in Cody’s breakfast. “The drivers dropped everything off at the gate. I can show you the camera footage later, if you like.”

“No need,” Simon says, and maybe Cody is imagining the air of relief. The vampire clearly doesn’t want strangers in his lair .

Which is smart but unfortunately includes Cody. He needs to work a little extra to get on Simon’s good side, to make this job go more smoothly.

Simon doesn’t look like a vampire tonight. The soft blue sweater brings out his eyes in a disconcertingly pretty way. He could be any wealthy young man in need of hired protection. No sign of his true age, whatever that is.

At least the subtle bump of a hip holster is a reminder that he’s dangerous.

Cody, meanwhile, is in a simple t-shirt and jeans. He tends to run hot, and the house is comfortable. He would boil alive in a sweater right now.

“Do you need to… drink breakfast?” Cody asks. All his scripts for ‘reassuring small talk with principals’ are useless here. “I want to install the alarm on your phone, but it can wait if you’re hungry. I mean, thirsty.”

Apparently, his small talk game is good enough—a faint smile curves Simon’s lips. “We don’t drink every day. You can install your little alarm now.”

He sets his phone down on the table, taps until the screen brightens, then steps back. Cody has plenty of space to take it, no touching involved. Simon remains nearby, though, motionless and watchful.

Cody swipes through, trying not to be too curious about everything else on Simon’s phone. Everything looks weirdly normal—music, social media, puzzle games. Having a specific Vampire Social App in the app store would violate secrecy laws.

“I apologize for my temper last night,” Simon says, sudden and quiet.

Cody freezes briefly. “No need.”

Simon leans against the back of a chair, seeming to relax. “I was rude on purpose several times. Trust me, I’m old enough to know better.”

“How old are you?” Cody asks, then grins. “Or is that rude to ask?”

“Four hundred fifty, give or take.” Simon points at the phone. “I need all those little apps to keep up with the culture. And to make Kimiko cringe when I say she ‘ate that.’”

Horror shivers down Cody’s spine. “I don’t know Kimiko, but she’s right. Please don’t.”

“How old are you?” Simon asks.

Cody’s already getting to the point where he has to think about his exact age. How much harder is it to remember after the first couple hundred years? “Twenty-eight.”

“An infant,” Simon remarks, and damn. He looks cute with a smile.

Vampire, Cody reminds himself. Ruthless bloodsucking monster.

Plus, Cody’s here on a job. Watching for threats, not cute vampire smiles. He puts the phone on the table. No touching. “Press this button once to alert me for anything non-urgent. Press it twice for anything urgent—that will alert both me and Atwood. When in doubt, press twice. We’d rather overreact than under-react.”

Simon retrieves the phone. “What would be non-urgent?”

“You can’t remember the security password, you’re mad I left dishes in the sink, you spilled milk—uh, blood on the floor, whatever.” Cody gestures to the fridge. “I won’t mop it up for you, but you can still call. I’ll do my best not to bother you, and you get to bother me whenever. That’s how the job works.”

Simon is quiet. That cold vampire stillness again, when he looks all of four hundred fifty years old. Give or take. Then he comes alive with small movements. “You should bring your groceries in before the raccoons find them. I can get the garage door—it’s a more direct route to the kitchen.” Simon taps his phone, and rumbling starts from the ground floor. “Isn’t technology magical?”

“Appreciate it,” Cody says. “Stay downstairs, away from windows, while I’m out. Okay?”

“Understood,” Simon says cooperatively.

Cody flips through the camera feeds on his work phone. Nothing is amiss, so he takes off via the garage. Clearly a sign of a paranormal monster: Simon’s two-car garage holds two cars. No piles of boxes and junk.

This time of year, full dark fell hours ago. Small lights outline the driveway and front gate, helping Cody’s keen eyes. He scents for any intruders as he jogs towards the gate. No humans, no raccoons. Everything looked fine on the camera feeds, but being alert is part of the job.

Tonight is going better than expected. Simon is easier to deal with compared to the night before, and Cody has to sympathize with his previous prickliness. Cody hadn’t exactly reacted well to this assignment, but he’d had a couple days to get over his initial refusal. Losing control on the full moon is a great distraction.

Simon only learned about the werewolf moving into his house when said werewolf was already on his doorstep. Because vampires are assholes to each other too, apparently, and his shitty sire didn’t warn him.

When Cody returns with groceries in tow, Simon is still in the kitchen. He holds a bag of coffee, peering at the label.

“Can you still eat things recreationally?” Cody asks, because Simon seems not to mind questions.

Simon sets the coffee down. “Some do, but I find it unpleasant. I like smelling food, though.”

Cody starts transferring groceries into the empty pantry. Turning his back on a vampire feels wrong, and he shoves down his bristling instincts. “Any favorites?”

“Fresh fruit,” Simon answers, his voice still safely across the room. “Fresh bread. Coffee.”

“I’ll add more fruit to the next delivery,” Cody says, though hopefully this job will end before the first batch runs out. “Did you have any plans for today? I mean, tonight?”

He turns around to find the kitchen empty. Cody’s principal is missing, and alarm jolts him more awake than the coffee.

Seconds later, a mechanical growl clarifies everything—the unmistakable sound of a car starting in the garage.

Simon is sneaking out.