Page 30 of His Eternal Temptation

LANE

Rowan’s screams shook Lane far beyond the jarring wake-up call, and the unaffected, blank manner he adopted in the morning only cracked Lane’s confidence further.

What was he hiding?

Keeping his fears from Lane wasn’t a shocking development. They hardly knew each other, and the understanding they’d reached last night was far from friendship. Miles away from confidants. Lane was still the last person Rowan would look to for any kind of support.

Lane wished otherwise. He’d like the chance to be what Rowan needed. But maybe he was taking hope too far.

As the morning wore on, Rowan acted as if nothing had happened. He didn’t have any private words with anyone, unless he’d been texting his heart out and finding support in secret. Somehow, Lane doubted it. He was probably working, running his empire from his phone.

Even if Lane couldn’t be the one to help Rowan, someone should. Keeping all that inside wasn’t good for anyone.

Eventually, the texting stopped. Lane had been making a show of reading on the couch and looked up. Rowan was seated behind his desk, staring unmoving at his phone. Lane wanted to tell him it was okay to relax, that he didn’t have to pretend for Lane’s sake.

“You’re staring,” Rowan grumbled without turning his head.

Lane refused to look away. “I’m thinking.”

Rowan ran his tongue over his top teeth, lingering on a retracted fang. “That was a hint. Stop looking my direction.”

“I’m looking out the window behind you. Not at you,” Lane lied.

“Right. Sure you are.” Rowan stood abruptly. “I need a drink.” He strode over to the small bar next to Lane and grabbed a glass, hesitated, then grabbed another. “Would you like a bourbon?”

The courtesy didn’t fit Rowan’s pissy mood, and Lane was kind of touched. Rowan never would have offered yesterday. “It’s a little early for me, but I’ll take another coffee.”

Rowan huffed and poured himself a measure of brown liquid from one of the decanters. “I’m not making coffee.” Without turning around, he swallowed the drink in one gulp.

Lane’s spine stiffened. Vampires had a higher alcohol tolerance than humans and witches, but they weren’t immune to intoxication.

Did Rowan often chase his feelings away with fancy liquor? Lane wouldn’t have thought so, but what did he know?

“The window is over there, yet you’re still staring.”

Lane didn’t budge. “I’m wondering if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Thirsty, like I said.” Rowan stooped and opened a cabinet, revealing a hidden mini fridge stocked with blood bags. “If the smell makes you sick, I suggest waiting in the hall.”

Lane stayed where he was. “I’ll be fine. Drinking blood doesn’t bother me. What happened yesterday was different.”

Too many alarm bells were going off in Lane’s head for anything to distract him, even memories of the poor vampire in the van. Rowan was fighting hard to maintain his usual indifference, and the problem couldn’t be thirst alone, not after the way he’d screamed last night.

Rowan poured blood into his glass, filling it nearly to the brim, and carried it to his desk, where he drank it more slowly than the bourbon. Lane couldn’t help noticing he lacked his usual grace.

The office door flew open. “Vampire on a rampage across the street,” Felix said in a rush. A second later, he was gone.

“Damnation.” Rowan was on his feet. “We need to go.”

Lane followed him out the door at a run, all other concerns pushed to the back burner. “Has your coven discovered anything about the feral from yesterday?”

“No, they haven’t. Fuck.” Rowan paused at the entrance to the stairs. “We’re about to walk into a bloody mess. Will it be too much to handle?”

“I—I don’t know.” There was no point lying. “You drinking from a glass is one thing. An attack…” Carnage like the headless vampire. Maybe worse. People being torn apart before his eyes. Lane swallowed. “I still want to help in any way I can.”

Rowan nodded and took off down the stairs, Lane beside him. “I appreciate your willingness. Just know your limits. Warn me if you aren’t okay, so I’m not caught off guard. We have to stick close together.” He shot a glance at Lane. “I don’t want to have to worry about you.” It could have sounded like a dig, but didn’t.

“I won’t hold back,” Lane promised.