The vampire froze, one foot hovering over the ground. Then, he shook his head, throwing his helmet and keys on the couch, before he went to the locked mini fridge near the normal, stainless steel one.
Rhyden punched in the code and withdrew a glass bottle, filled with thick red blood, pouring it carelessly into a wine glass. Blood nearly sloshed over the sides.
After a few healthy sips, his bright red eyes found Cyrus tangled with Rin on the bed. "That’s none of your goddamned business, incubus. Even if it were, I wouldn’t tell you. And trust me, she doesn’t care who I fuck—or don’t."
"She might say she doesn’t, but I know her. She’d be sad. She’s already so sad." Cyrus felt her soft breaths from her slightly parted lips against his wrist.
They’d removed the IV after she’d been able to get some soup down the day before. Slowly but surely, she was healing.
Deep, cold winter snuck up on them. And with it came Christmas. The holiday wasn’t celebrated on Sibeth, but his dollwas from Earth this time around. He wondered if she grew up wearing cute little mittens and those hats with puffs dangling from the end. He imagined it and smiled. They were going to leave for Lunar City after Christmas. Maybe he could get her a little present to make her days brighter while she was stuck here.
"What made you even think that?" Rhyden’s voice ripped Cyrus from his musings.
"The buttons on your shirt are done all wrong," Cyrus replied lowly.
Rhyden cursed and glanced down. "If you’re so insistent on knowing, I was out getting us some fucking answers. Doing my job. I didn’t want to come back covered in blood. I figure that would make you more mad than if I staggered back just-fucked. Can never win with you incubi."
"Maybe you do need to get fucked, but it certainly won’t be with Vesperin." Cyrus smirked, disentangling from her.
He moved to the vampire. The base was quiet. Auren called to reap, and Lucien at the hospital. The doctor had to keep up appearances—he’d shared that Sabine and Talor were supposedly off-planet again. Good, because Cyrus wanted to hunt them down and string them up into pretty little pieces. Nowthatwould be a good present.
Cyrus rested his palms on the countertop. "I’m surprised she stooped so low as to let you inside her, even for a con."
Rhyden slammed his empty glass down. In a flash, he rounded the counter and wrapped his hand around Cyrus’s throat in warning.
Cyrus was starved. He opened up his senses, sipping at the vampire’s rage, until it unfurled an answering emotion inside him. Anger always tasted like overripe strawberries.
"We already talked about this, incubus. If you ever breathe a word of what she did to me—to anyone—I’ll gut you. Soulbond or not, I don’t give a shit."
"Your secret’s safe with me. I’ll keep quiet, but I won’t stop her from telling the others how she bested you." Cyrus echoed Auren’s earlier words from a few days ago. The Soul Searcher was smart. He was shocked that Auren hadn’t figured it out already.
That day, Cyrus had fed on the light emotions he found while walking the streets, hood over his head and hands stuffed deep in his pockets; he still had to hide his identity.
The well of mercuriality found in humans filled him so completely he didn’t even miss the release of sex, nearly dizzy as he’d stumbled back to the base.
As he’d unlocked the door, all the lightness inside him had drained at the sight of Rhyden Valkar, nude and tied to the bed. The vampire’s rage had been so potent, Cyrus hadn’t even had to open himself up to it.
Rhyden hadn’t uttered a word, not even begged Cyrus to untie him. But he had anyway, smiling while he loosened the knots, then dangling the rope over the vampire’s face with a laugh. Rhyden had forced him to swear silence, and Cyrus agreed—his thoughts had been elsewhere, on his little doll, imagining her tying someone up and having her way with them. He wondered if she’d tie him up.
But all the lust inside him was replaced by worry as Rhyden shared that she was gone.
They’d just been preparing to leave when there’d been a soft ping from the sensors placed in the vacant parking garage—motion had been detected.
Rhyden had been strapping a gun to a hidden harness beneath his leather jacket. Cyrus had been the one to open the door.
Only to find Vesperin’s broken body left on the cold, grey ground.
Kiton Blackfall, the one who had done that to her.
Cyrus wanted to kill him.
Rin stared listlesslyat the plastic tree Cyrus placed near the couches. His red hair flopped over his forehead as he bent and plugged the cord into an outlet. Soft white light began to glow on the little tree, shimmering like Stars.
He stood and gestured dramatically. "Ta-da! Happy Christmas, doll."
"It’smerryChristmas," Rin corrected faintly.
She’d been on bed rest since she’d woken, nearly a week ago. Even awake, she felt bruised inside, as if a piece of her was forever changed by what had happened.
