He gives a single nod. "I can see that."
"You don't look surprised," I add, narrowing my eyes.
"It was one of the possible outcomes," he replies with maddening calm. "I knew my brother wouldn't resist the urge to follow you. So unless you left town immediately, your return was a probability."
Cold, calculated. Like I'm a chess piece moving along a predicted path. I press my lips together, irritation sparking low in my chest. I turn back to Kayden and finish bandaging his shoulder with sharper fingers than necessary.
"I'll be out of your hair tomorrow. I have a bus ticket," I announce, like it's some kind of protection spell.
Neither of them reacts.
"Who shot at you?" Asher asks instead.
"Some drugged-up dirtbags wanted to get chatty with our nymph here," Kayden answers with a smirk, casually shrugging off the remains of his torn shirt and tossing it aside like it's nothing.
Now they're both shirtless. Fantastic.
I sink onto the couch, clutching my drink a little too tightly. I try not to look, but my eyes keep betraying me, darting over without permission, cataloging details like I'm under some kind of test.
Standing side by side, I can finally take them in without high-alert adrenaline clouding my vision. The resemblance is there: strong jawlines, the same sharp lines around their eyes, dark hair almost identical in shade. But that's where it splits.
Kayden is all lean muscle and fluid menace, the type of beauty that belongs in shadows. Every part of him feels like aprovocation. He moves like he was born to be dangerous. And those eyes, deep brown, almost black, pull you in like quicksand, sharp with amusement or hunger, or both.
Asher's built differently. Broader. The weight of command clings to him, even barefoot in sweatpants. His body says discipline, push-ups at dawn, control in all things. His eyes, though, light brown, almost amber in this light, don't give anything away. They're softer in color, but not in meaning. Watching, measuring. Always calculating.
One is fire. The other is steel.
"Were they affected by your allure?" Asher asks me.
"I don't think those guys needed allure to decide to prey on a lone woman," I say, my voice flat. "They were the kind who would've harassed a lamppost if it had legs."
"Well, now they won't bother anyone," Kayden replies, a slow grin curling on his lips, his eyes darkening with that familiar edge, like he's reliving the kill and savoring it.
"Did you get rid of the bodies?" Asher asks, cool and direct.
Kayden huffs. "Yeah, between getting shot and playing knight in bloodstained armor, Ialsofound time to clean up after myself."
Asher exhales through his nose. Wordless judgment. Then he heads toward the side table to retrieve his phone.
Kayden rolls his eyes so hard it's a miracle they stay in his skull. The whole interaction is so clearly older-brother-disappointed, younger-brother-defensive that despite everything, I almost laugh. It's weirdly domestic. If you ignore the vampire part.
Asher's fingers fly over the screen, tapping out a message while asking Kayden for a few details—where it happened, how many, any witnesses. He's focused, precise. Meanwhile, Kayden lounges like he's waiting for a party to start.
They're similar and, at the same time, nothing alike.
Kayden is wild heat, always on the verge of doing something reckless or inappropriate, while Asher is the kind of man who seems to expect not only people, but entire situations, to fall in line. Control radiates from him like a field of energy.
Except when it comes to Kayden. I guess that's the one variable even a war-hardened commander can't manage.
"Maybe you should try turning off that allure of yours," Kayden drawls suddenly, swirling the scotch in his glass. "Might help you stop attracting every sleazebag from here to the coast. I get it won't stop every idiot, but if you're trying to be lowkey, maybe the walking magical sex-beacon vibe isn't the move."
I sigh and shoot him a look. "I can't control it. Not fully. It takes training and focus. Even born-nymphs older than me can't always manage it. And we're not exactly built for this." I gesture vaguely. "Walking through cities. Staying in shady motels. Hiding out in bus stations. That's not what our kind was meant for."
Kayden flashes a grin, letting his eyes do a slow sweep of me. "Nah. You were made to bounce around naked in sun-drenched meadows, right?"
I roll my eyes. "Sure. With flowers in my hair and deer at my heels."
He chuckles, but his gaze lingers. There's heat there, but curiosity too.
