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With a heavy sigh, Ethan flopped down in the middle of the couch and rubbed his hands over his face. When he lowered his hands, he inwardly cringed at the way Carl was closely watching him.
The man looked to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties with salt-and-pepper scruff on his chin and jawline. More gray was creeping into his dark hair while lines were digging deep furrows in his narrow face. His dark eyes reminded him of a rodent’s, quick and sharp, as they took in every movement. He’d never felt easy around Carl.
When Carl approached him, it had been reassuring that he finally had someone who understood what Ethan had seen so many years ago. There had been no gunshots. No animals tearing at people’s throats. There had only been dark voices and a blood-covered woman with fangs. He had talked about getting justice for the dead, and Ethan had been in.
But Carl kept wanting to be this father figure to him, and Ethan wasn’t buying it. He’d survived foster homes and boys’ group homes. There had been some bad places and some okay places along the way. The key was that he’d learned to get by on his own. He didn’t need some pseudo-father coming in when Ethan knew deep down that Carl only wanted him to help take down the vamps. Any vamps.
He had said it more than once. The only good vamp was a staked one.
“You have to remember, Ethan, that vampires are crafty. They want to seduce us and mind-fuck us. They want you to trust them so that you let your guard down,” Carl continued.
“Yeah, but what if all that stuff we’ve seen in movies and books is bullshit? I mean, some of the people in the group think vamps can’t walk around while the sun is up. I’m telling you, on my first day I had a meeting with Varik at ten a.m. We had food together today. Real, actual food. I watched him eat it.”
“Are you sure? How do you know it wasn’t an illusion? It could have been a trick.”
Ethan barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. That was Carl’s answer to everything Ethan said that contradicted what he believed. It was a mind-fuck. A hallucination. An illusion.
He was starting to regret a lot of shit when it came to Carl, starting with agreeing to even let him come over to his apartment. It felt like a serious betrayal of Marcus…not like working for the man wasn’t a massive betrayal as well. But Carl had called to check on him as he got home, catching him when he was feeling weak and his mind was all fucked up.
Since the first day on the job, he’d been getting calls from Carl demanding to know if he’d seen Marcus’s fangs or where he slept during the day or if there were extra coffins in the basement. As more time passed, Carl was starting to seem like a crazed zealot. Probably more dangerous than Marcus could ever be.
But if he left Carl and the League, where did that leave Ethan? He wanted justice for his parents and sisters, but not at the cost of hurting innocent people.
And right now, there was zero proof that Marcus had anything to do with the death of his family.
Marcus’s mother…maybe.
What would his own mother say? She was a sweet, compassionate woman. She’d want Ethan to be happy and to move on with his life. To do something positive and bring joy to other people. Not wallow in pain and blood for a memory.
And damn it, did he really have any proof that Marcus was a vampire? Had Marcus done anything to threaten or scare him? His family might be a little crazy and Marcus was a touch eccentric, but that didn’t make him a bloodsucker. Just…interesting.
A loud knocking on the front door stopped Ethan’s heart for a breath. He jerked his head up and stared in the direction of the noise. Marcus and Janice were the only other people who knew where he lived. And that did not sound like a Janice knock.
Holy shit. Marcus was at his front door and Carl, the crazy vampire hunter, was sitting in his living room.
Jumping to his feet, Ethan pointed at Carl. “Don’t move a muscle. He can’t see you here,” he hissed.
“Is that…” Carl whispered, his voice drifting off as if he was afraid Marcus could hear him through the door. Ethan nodded and Carl practically vibrated in his seat. He had to get Marcus away from the apartment. He didn’t trust Carl to keep his butt in the chair.
Ethan jogged through the apartment and paused only long enough to peer through the peephole to confirm that it was Marcus on the other side. His boss had been particularly concerned about a potential threat from Meryl, but Ethan was doubtful that she’d be able to locate him so quickly.
