“Nice deer soup, Bryce,” Detective Pierce said between vigorouschews of fresh baguette. “You ever make it with some actual meat in it?”
“Tastes just fine to me,” Hunter retorted through a strained grin, finally turning his scrutinizing gaze elsewhere. “And it’s venison soup, not deer, dear brother,” he said, patting his brother’s hand.
The detective shrugged. “You say it’s not deer, but it’s dear to me. Bryce made it specially, deer or no deer”—he patted Hunter’s hand—“my dear, dear Hunter.”
Hunter’s eye twitched like he was restraining an eye roll as he slowly withdrew his hand. Weird. I thought twins were supposed to be super close. These two acted like they were one wrong word from throwing punches, their smiles as stiff as their hulking shoulders. But anything that took the focus of me was great right now.
“The broth’s a delicate appetizer to get your tastebuds kickstarted.” Bryce sipped chilled chardonnay from his glass, cradling the crystal in his sleek leather glove. “There are meat dishes coming. I hope you brought your appetite.”
“Oh, consider it brought, fire lord.” The detective picked his bowl up in both hands. After he’d knocked it back, he said, “And joking aside, the soup has a real nice flavor. From the first spoonful, I thought, ‘Deer goodness!’”
Hunter clunked down his beer bottle. “Okay, I think the deer puns have been done enough.” His gaze snapped back to Serenity just in time to see her steady my shaking hand in an innocent attempt to keep the “healing” broth on my spoon. “Serenity, I think the kid’s fine. Probably nothing more serious than too much Bloodweiser on an empty stomach.”
Serenity shook her head at Hunter. “I don’t think so. Seb’s been getting worse.” She made sure I got my food to my mouth and brushed back my hair in an absentminded gesture that surged tingles and hunger throughout my deprived system. Despite feeling rough as a coffin nail, her caring dug deep into me.
But she might get me mauled. Now even Detective Pierce—made all the more intimidating by his state of undress, sitting in his underwear for the sake of his bandages—was throwing me subtle hostile looks, his hand tightening around his beer. My well-honed senses also picked up the thunderous pulse reddening Hunter’s ears and the soft huff he released through his nose.
“All this is lovely, Bryce, it really is,” Serenity said, having finally pulled her hand away from me. She smiled at him, and seemed to want to reach out a hand for him too but stopped herself. “You could be a famous chef, I swear. Thank you so much, really. And thanks for that new phone your security team gave me today.”
“Of course.” A look passed between them like he wanted to say a lot more, then he glanced at Dagger and me like reminding himself of all the company. Tinkling his spoon on the plate’s saucer, Mr. Harding stood and gestured to the couches and armchairs in the loft’s central area. “Seb, you look shattered,” he said, tone filled with genuine sympathy. “You’ve been pushing yourself far too hard at the office. Maybe you should relax on a more comfortable surface, take it easy. If you like, I can make you an extra rare steak?”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that, Mr. Harding. You’ve already cooked such a feast. I—”
“But it’s not the feast you need, right? It’s okay, I get it. I’ve spent my whole life trying to outfox my genes, to get them to change, to obey. It doesn’t work, believe me. And remember, call me, Bryce, please. We’re not at Midas now.”
“Yeah, well, if he’s gonna have to shovel blood in his face, maybe he should call it an early night. The Bloodweiser is bad enough,” the detective said, his face stony. “I was hoping I could enjoy all this without anything turning my stomach.”
His brother tutted at him, and said through a rigid grin, “You buy any of the food, Dagger? You prepare it? Cook it?” He cocked a brow. “No? Then it’s not your call.”
Eyes calculating, Hunter slid his phone from his jeans pocket. “And anyway, if Serenity’s invited him as a guest, then he should be given a guest’s respect. You don’t look so good though, kid. You want me to have a doc come?”
The mental barrier I’d cloaked around my thoughts, trying to keep Serenity unaware of them, was draining my vital force and my body began to shiver. I felt like I was wearing a sweater made of ice packs. “Tha—thanks, Mr. Pierce. So kind of you. I think that would be a waste of time and money though. I—I know what the problem is, and no doctor can…”
Reeling, I staggered to my feet. Serenity wasn’t strong enough to steady my weight, and I began to slowly sink, my face heading for the hardwood. Hunter hurried around the table and caught me in his tree trunk arms. “I gotcha, kid. Come on, you’re lying down. No arguments.”
“I’ll be fine, really…” The loft’s shining décor swirled and faded to darkness.
I woke up lying flat on a leather couch with a soft pillow propped under my neck. Serenity knelt on the floor beside me, clutching my hand with one of hers. “Thank goodness,” she sighed and reached up to brush the hair back from my forehead.
“I’ve sent my chauffeur off to the nearest blood bank,” Bryce said, hovering behind her. “He’ll be back soon.”
“It won’t make any difference…” My voice was weak, but they both heard.
She shook her head in protest, and he squinted. “Won’t make any difference? You’ve been working round the clock—I wish all my new employees took things as seriously—but you’ve been neglecting your species’ vital needs.”
The blood bags might steady my nerves, but it was like trying to treat an axe wound with a band aid.
Serenity rubbed my cheek. “And we need you in tip-top shape for putting the Temple in its place.”
God, how I yearned for her.
I mumbled an apology as I looked round the room. Hunter was near the kitchen, his face was full of confusion and, surprisingly, sympathy. Dagger’s face was full of shrimp as he ate more dinner.
The detective spoke through chews as he walked closer, peering into my eyes. “What’s really going on here? This ain’t my first time round the block, kiddo. You been playing vamp mind tricks on her?” He knelt by Serenity to look into her eyes as if he might find her pupils glazed over in a trance.
I tried to sit up on the couch but failed. I croaked a reply. “What are you talking about?”
He stood back up and fuck me, he was a towering lump of tattooed muscle. The scowl on his face was making me nervous.
