Page 23 of Transfiguration
“Nah. I leave the major exploitation for others, invest in safe stuff for us. Con is fine. It’s not like he’s eighty. We’ve got time. Yes, he’s aging. It’s hot. Has the tattooed ‘daddy’ vibe going for him. We can sit down and have an adult conversation. He won’t freak.”
“You don’t know that,” Sam said.
“No. But we both know Con. He loves us. He’s not really bothered by me biting you, or you biting me when we’re getting hot and heavy anymore.”
“That’s not the same as being bitten himself.”
Which Con didn’t do. From time to time, he would bleed in a cup to share with Sam, but never fangs in his skin. “That’s the good thing about being adults. We can talk about it.”
Sam rested his head on Luca’s shoulder, tracing small kisses over Luca’s neck, his hand sliding down to cup Luca’s balls. It wouldn’t take much to get revved up. “There’s a lot of noise,” Sam admitted after a while.
“Where?”
“Everywhere? In magic?” He sighed and leaned back to half use Luca as a chair. He wove his fingers through Luca’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss.
“Mmm,” Luca said into his mouth.
They kissed for a bit. It soothed something deep in Luca’s gut. But that edge of red still lingered from earlier. Fear? Anger? Was that what Sam was feeling?
Luca’s phone pinged. He broke the kiss, knowing the familiar sound meant someone was at the front desk downstairs. “That’s probably groceries arriving.”
“That was fast,” Sam said.
“Not sure there’s a lot of business in the middle of the night to distract them.” He sighed and lazily pulled himself free from Sam’s grasp, groping him a half dozen times on the way. Sam smacked his ass as Luca got to the counter and replied to the text that he’d be right down for the groceries.
“I’ll help,” Sam said. He looked around the space. “You think we should put up wards? Like Rou does?”
“Not sure we can this high up? How would that work? Might be worth asking.” Luca said, sliding his feet into his shoes, and grabbing the fold up cart they kept beside the door. Would it fit in one trip? He hoped so.
Sam followed him to the elevator and down. The building was silent. It wasn’t an all-vampire building, though there were a good number ofother. Luca couldn’t hear heartbeats or movement, Sam might, as vampire hearing was better than most other species. They arrived at the lobby, pushing the cart out of the elevator into the underground space that opened into the parking garage near the front. A whirl of red and blue lights swirled through the glass doors leading to the garage. Cop cars in the parking garage? Had something happened?
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked as they stepped up to the desk. Their order rested behind the big space; the woman at the counter giving them a strained smile. The regular duo of security was out by the police cars.
“Sorry it took me a few minutes to text you that your stuff was here,” the woman at the counter said. “It’s a strange night.” She loaded their stuff into Luca’s cart, which was a wagon that pulled out cloth sides to make it hold more.
“Is that one of Hart’s SUVs?” Sam asked, staring out at the lights, which made him squint because of the brightness. “It is.” He headed for the door.
“Sam,” Luca called, following while feeling an edge of anxiety rise. But it was one of Hart’s SUVs. In fact, it looked like the one they’d come home in earlier, though it was hard to tell, as they were mostly the same.
The security guys were talking with the police and the nearest officer put a hand up to stop them, but blinked, like he recognized Sam. “You’re that vampire witch guy from the news, right?” The cop said.
Sam focused on the SUV, which was pulled off halfway into a parking spot, like it abruptly pulled over after trying to leave, driver side door wide open, gaping, though surrounded by cops and camera flashes.
The scent of blood wafted heavy in the air, metallic but cold, cooling. He knew Sam caught it too, as his nostrils flared. It was an odd meat smell, and Luca’s stomach cramped a little with sudden hunger. That was unusual. Human blood did nothing for Luca. As a dhampir, he needed vampire blood and actual food. Maybe he hadn’t eaten enough earlier?
The officer keeping them back shouted something to the group and the ones near the open door turned, leaving the space clear to see inside for a few seconds. Luca blinked.
“Blake?” Sam asked. As one of their regular drivers, they all knew him in more than casual passing. He never complained about their flirting, was always friendly, polite, and got them safely wherever they went. Hart had once admitted that Blake had been chosen specifically for them. When Luca asked why, Hart gave him a shrug, and a vague, “You don’t annoy him.” Luca thought that meant they annoyed other drivers, though he'd never heard from anyone. They did sometimes have other drivers when Blake was off, but most of the time, it was him.
Seeing him there, still in death, blood pooling down from what appeared to be the entire center of him, eviscerated in a red mess like his heart had exploded free from his chest, was a little beyond Luca’s comprehension. He gaped and gagged, on the verge of vomiting, hunger turning to nausea and pain.
Sam dragged Luca back. The smell was overwhelming; blood, spoiling meat, and death. Sam shoved a waste basket beneath Luca’s nose a half second before Luca threw up the last dredges of food he’d eaten at Rou’s. His heart hammered in his chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a dead body. It happened from time to time in the fighting ring. He had killed no one, but other matches went wrong. He’d never really known any of them. Was that what was different? He knew Blake and had conversed with him regularly, even if they weren’t more than acquaintances.
He dry heaved for a while; Sam staying close, holding him up, and the basket. The door opened and closed.
“You’re Mueller?” A gruff male voice asked.
“I am,” Sam agreed.