Page 3

Coming to Hyde Park was the best thing Jay had ever done.

His only wish was that it could last.

Jay’s apartment was quiet after the bustle of the café at closing time. Much, much quieter than he would have liked. Which was silly because Jay loved quiet. Really, he did. Or at least…sometimes he did. When he was reading, or when he was drawing. He loved a good, old-fashioned peaceful afternoon.

But it was more what the quiet meant , ever since he’d left the den.

Solitude.

Jay rubbed at his belly as he hung up his coat.

A familiar itchy sensation was building under his skin, settling in the pit of his stomach.

It was still subtle enough to bear, but he’d definitely need to feed in a few days.

He made a note in his head to make arrangements as he fussed with the couch cushions, trying to get them just right.

The little one-bedroom had come already furnished, which Jay was grateful for, because he didn’t really know how to decorate a place by himself. Vee had always chosen their home furnishings. She had impeccable taste, according to her.

She wouldn’t have liked this place at all—not one bit—but Jay did.

He liked the soft beige couch, with its fluffy cushions, and the scratched little coffee table in front of it.

He liked the big TV—garish, she would have called it—he could watch his favorite shows on.

He liked the little kitchen he no longer attempted to cook in.

He’d even been adding a few things here and there—mostly a multitude of cozy blankets he’d found at different shops around town. And also a big, ornate chest for his art supplies. That was the one ostentatious thing he’d allowed himself.

We’re not ostentatious people, Johann. We’re above all that. Don’t let me catch you flaunting our wealth.

Oh Lord. Jay rubbed at his forehead, resisting the urge to knock at it with his palm.

Vee’s voice in his head was super strong today.

It just wouldn’t quit. He wished it were possible to shake it out—like, physically shake his head until the old admonishments stopped coming—but that had never worked before.

So instead he sang softly to himself as he puttered around, straightening the various blankets, trying to fill his head with music rather than harsh words.

Then for a while he just…stood still.

For a very long while, actually. Jay wasn’t sure exactly how long he was standing there in the living room, but when he blinked back to awareness, it was fully dark outside.

Oops. Sometimes Jay lost time like that, when he was alone. A bad habit left over from Vee’s old punishments.

He took a seat on the couch and cleared his throat, trying out some words. “I don’t like being alone,” he declared, his voice ringing in the silent apartment.

There, he’d admitted it. He’d voiced it out loud.

At least…he didn’t like it as much as he’d thought he would, when he’d left the den.

Sure, there were lots of good parts to his new independence—working at the café, family dinner nights at Danny and Roman’s house.

Jay had even gotten to take a trip to Tucson and rescue a scared woman from a feral vampire and take her to the hospital, where the police asked him lots of questions and Soren had to eventually come in and compel everyone to forget Jay’s face.

That had been exciting, right?

But Jay didn’t like the long hours at night when he was all by himself, just him and Vee’s harsh voice in his head.

He used to hang out at the hospital some nights, just to have a place to be. But eventually Danny’s friend Chloe had asked about his sick family member and Jay had to lie to her about it, and then he’d never gone back after that.

Jay sat stiffly on the couch, trying to figure out what to do next.

He supposed he could call Soren or Danny.

But he tried not to be too much of a bother.

They had their mates to keep them company.

And, despite what some people may think, Jay wasn’t stupid.

He knew Soren hadn’t really meant his invitation last spring, when he’d told Jay he could come to Hyde Park.

Soren hadn’t really expected Jay to show up at his doorstep.

But Jay had seen a chance—one last chance—and he’d taken it.

And everyone had been so lovely to him, really. Danny called him “sweetie” all the time and had taught him how to drive. Sometimes Jay and Soren got together for classic movie nights. It wasn’t their fault Jay didn’t have anyone else.

Someone just for him.

In Jay’s old life, at the end of the day, when all his chores had been done, Vee would often sit with him while he amused himself.

As long as he was neat and quiet and polite and she didn’t have anything better to do, she’d stay with him and keep him company as he etched out his drawings or read the latest novel.

Jay missed that.

“Stop being such a baby,” he told himself, rising from the couch and kneeling in front of his chest (his treasure chest, he liked to call it in his head). “It’s been over ten years.”

He just wished he was better at being alone. He wished he was braver. Bolder. Like Soren. Jay’s old friend had left the toxic den of vampires they’d both been raised in, and he’d had a full, exciting life before finding his mate. Soren hadn’t minded being alone, had he?

But then neither had Jay, when he’d first come to Hyde Park.

The novelty of it all—the humans all around, his very first job out of the house, friends to spend time with—had kept him happy and occupied.

But lately a familiar melancholy had started creeping and crawling its way back in. An uninvited guest.

But oh well. Jay forced a smile—even if there was no one else there to see it, it didn’t hurt to put on a happy face—and chose an activity. No crying over eternal solitude, right?

He’d draw tonight, he decided. Charcoal.

He wasn’t in the mood for bright colors.

And he’d watch one of his favorite shows, Gilmore Girls .

He’d seen it before, more than once, but that was okay.

He liked how fast they talked and and all the references they made—he would look them up after each episode and always find something new to watch or read to pass the time.

All Jay had was time.

So much time.

Except…as he set up his supplies, as if summoned by his moment of weakness, Jay’s phone dinged.

Have you tired of your experiment yet?

Jay sighed softly, scowling down at his phone. How did he always know like that? Jay debated ignoring it, but he didn’t want to deal with the consequences.

Not yet! Four months left.

Jay left it at that and tucked his phone under the couch cushion, deciding out of sight was out of mind, and laid out his art supplies.

He already knew what he was going to draw. He couldn’t help it. A familiar face, etched permanently into his mind from centuries of companionship. A beautiful older woman, with cold eyes and a stern jaw.

Veronique. Vee.

Three episodes in and Jay heard his phone buzz through the cushions. He reached for it before he could stop himself, laughing in delight when he saw the message was from Danny.

Book club Saturday. You still in?

Of course Jay was still in! He’d even gotten to choose the book this month.

He’d gone for one of his old favorites: Jane Eyre .

It was dark and broody and mysterious, so it felt appropriate for winter.

And he was pretty sure no one would make fun of it the same way they would one of his Highlander romances—the ones with the big, shirtless men on the covers he liked to keep secret on his phone.

Just like that, Jay felt his melancholy lift.

He had friends here, people who wanted him around. And come Friday, he was going to open at the café for the first time. He’d learn new skills and provide humans with the caffeine they needed to start their days.

Everything was just fine.

And he had four more months of it.