Page 92

Dane

I t was becoming abundantly clear over the next few days that either Dane and Fox had forgotten quite a bit about how humans best cared for themselves, or their new human roommate was particularly bad at it.

Four days in their house and he didn’t seem to have the normal functions down: he rarely ate anything that could be considered a regular meal, he seemed to drink more caffeine than water, and—as far as they could tell—he hardly slept any more than they did.

“He’s worse than we were living on the streets,” Fox commented at one point, after they watched him stalk, bleary-eyed, down the stairs, grab some cold coffee drink from the fridge, and slink back up at three in the morning.

“Well, he’s still alive,” Dane countered. “So that’s not quite true.”

He also seemed to be avoiding them, which was…irritating, for both Dane and his devil. Colin spent most of his time in his room, and he and Fox spent their time like a couple of assholes, listening to his movements with their enhanced hearing.

If they went out, they’d occasionally find him in the living room upon their return, hunched over a comic book or one of his drawings (which he never let them look at), but if they tried to engage, he would retreat back up the stairs with a scathing look.

His only consistency, other than his avoidance, was leaving every day at lunch to meet his father, an outing they’d now been told four separate times they weren’t allowed to attend.

(Dane had to give his brother credit for continuing to ask. The guy was not easily brushed off.)

Dane found it all a bit concerning. What if Colin had been lying? What if the incident with the bite had bothered him? Never mind that Colin didn’t seem the type to spare someone’s feelings with a white lie.

And if it had Dane feeling concerned, it clearly had Fox feeling fucking murderous. Dane found him glaring up in the direction of Colin’s room regularly, as if the force of his stare would be enough to levitate Colin down to them.

Dane could relate, really. His inner devil was…

restless. It didn’t care that they were relative strangers.

It liked when Colin was close—close enough to scent, to touch, to crowd with their bodies.

It liked his smell and his voice and his surprisingly pretty face.

It was itching under Dane’s skin with this forced distance.

And Fox’s pissy mood wasn’t helping any.

“Hey,” Dane said softly, pushing the porch swing with his feet as they watched the late-night crowd walk by.

There weren’t any coeds at the moment, not in the middle of summer—just the locals tough enough not to be scared away by the heat.

“Why don’t you go patrol around? See if you can catch any strange scents. ”

Fox, slouched down on the other side of the swing, shot him an irritated look. “What for?”

See? Pissy.

Dane ignored it. “You know what for. Jamie said that creep who turns kids was maybe coming around. We’ve been ignoring it.” They’d been distracted by their blue-haired guest, was the unspoken part.

Fox cocked a brow. “You want me to go alone?”

“Well, I should stay here, right? In case…” Dane trailed off, unsure how to finish that statement. In case Colin actually came out of his room, suddenly fiending to have them by his side? It was a stupid fucking thought. The human had been avoiding them for days.

Never mind that Fox and Dane always patrolled together. Never mind that there was usually never anywhere Dane wanted to be more than by his brother’s side. No place that felt safer.

But when he looked over, Fox’s expression wasn’t judgmental or even pissy anymore. It was knowing. He was smiling softly, as if pleased by Dane’s stupidity. “Yeah. You’re right. You should stay. In case.”

And there it was, the unspoken bit. That they were both in agreement on this…shift. They’d always been protective of their chosen city, mindful to fend off any troublemaking or feral vampires that could cause trouble. But now they had something else to mind, to protect.

It was unsettling. They’d just met the fucking kid.

But Fox didn’t give Dane any more time to overthink it. He leaned over, squeezing Dane’s shoulder in a firm grip, and then walked off into the night, just like that.

Dane lingered on the porch for a minute, pondering this new fascination they both had.

Was it just the novelty of it all? It wasn’t often—hardly ever, really—that they came across humans who knew what they were.

And even if they did, Dane couldn’t imagine any of them acting like Colin had.

Inviting himself into their space, fearlessly bossing them around or ignoring them completely when it pleased him.

So…simple fascination? It didn’t have to mean anything. Didn’t have to mean they were hoping for anything more.

That would be idiotic.

So why didn’t it feel simple? Why was everything surrounding the human so strange and twitchy and overwhelming?

Eventually Dane heaved a sigh and made his way inside. He stopped inside the front door, listening carefully. He could hear rustling sounds coming from upstairs, like Colin was trying to settle in his bed. Which would make sense—it was close to two in the morning.

Dane sticking around had probably been for nothing.

He went to the living room and settled on the couch. With Fox gone, Dane could put on one of his classics without feeling foolish. What did he want tonight? Not a pure romance; that felt too…tender…at the moment. Maybe something with a bit of mystery.

Just when he was making his selection, he heard the telltale sound of footsteps on the stairs.

He turned to see Colin on the steps, wearing loose shorts and a thin T-shirt, his faded blue hair still parted neatly but sticking up slightly in the back, like he’d been lying on it.

He looked tired, almost fragile, the dark circles under his eyes contrasting with his pale face.

He was still so fucking pretty.

Colin toyed with his bracelets while Dane stared. “What are you doing?” he asked, sounding uncharacteristically shy.

His voice came out slightly raspy, and Dane shifted, his cock threatening to harden. Because Colin had sounded just like that after Dane had fed off him, after Colin had chased his release against Fox’s stomach, after all his whimpering and mewling and mindless little lustful noises.

Dane cleared his throat, adjusting his shorts. “Starting a movie.”

He waited for Colin to move on, to wander into the kitchen and grab whatever inadequate snack he intended to make do with and flee back up the stairs.

But Colin stepped closer instead. Into the living room. Into Dane’s space. “Can I join?”

It took everything in Dane to keep his shrug casual, to keep the shit-eating grin he felt on the inside from showing on his face. His devil stretched and shifted inside him. “I don’t know. You ever seen The Big Sleep ?”

Apparently Colin didn’t watch movies any more normally than he attended to his basic needs.

Instead of sitting comfortably on the couch with Dane, he was cross-legged on the floor in front of it, sketching at the coffee table.

Dane could clearly see the mussed back of his head now, shoved up in an exaggerated pale-blue cowlick.

It was ridiculously endearing. Dane wanted to run his fingers through it, smooth it out.

He’d probably get slapped if he tried.

Still, he slouched down as far into the couch as he could, placing himself closer to Colin’s level.

The human smelled so good, so fresh. Too often the humans who walked past their little downtown residence reeked of floral perfumes or hair-raising body sprays.

With Colin, Dane could make out the sharp, minty smell of whatever shampoo he used, but the rest was all him.

Colin was quiet for the beginning of the movie, splitting his attention between his sketch pad and the TV screen. Dane couldn’t see exactly what he was drawing, but he was using charcoal, the little stick smudging black on the ends of his fingers.

Eventually, Colin spoke softly. “This movie’s pretty incomprehensible, huh?”

Dane startled. “What? No, it’s not. You’re just not paying attention.”

“Lotta toxic masculinity with this Philip Marlowe character.”

Dane wasn’t sure if Colin was trying to bait him on purpose, but he couldn’t exactly argue the point. “I like the leads together. Their chemistry. It’s classic. Bogie and Bacall.” Did that sound as idiotic out loud as it did in his head?

But Colin nodded, his head tilted down toward his paper. “You like the vibes, I get it.”

Dane wanted to bite at that exposed neck, that silky skin. He wouldn’t even use his fangs. He swallowed hard. “Yeah. I like the vibes.”

He took a chance, leaning closer to try to sneak a peek over Colin’s shoulder. It was kind of like having a temperamental cat in the house. He didn’t want to make any sudden moves or loud noises, afraid it would retreat. “What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to sound as casual as he could.

“Humphrey Bogart as a vampire.”

Dane had to see it. He sat up straight, peering over Colin’s head. Yep, that was Humphrey Bogart as a vampire, complete with fangs and all-black eyes. But Colin had…enhanced it? “You’ve put black veins all around the eyes,” he pointed out. “It’s creepy as hell.”

“Had to make it look a little cooler.”

Well, that was an unexpected source for feelings of inadequacy. “Regular vampires aren’t cool enough for you?” Dane asked.

“I just mean, like, aesthetically.” Colin finally turned to look at him, taking in the no doubt offended look on Dane’s face, and he laughed. He actually laughed .