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“Where’ve you been?” I questioned. “I’ve been worried.”
He sat down, and I took a whiff of the flowers. "These are beautiful, Dorian. Thank you."
His tail wagged back and forth, and he closed his eyes and walked forward. Resting the flowers on the step, he dropped his head on my lap.
"Are you okay?" I asked while scratching his head and ears, his fur a lot softer than expected. "I figured I'd ask you all the questions now, and you can answer after you shift."
He poked my belly with his nose, and I giggled when he continued to nuzzle me. His left hind leg snapped, and I grabbed onto the steps.
“Dorian?”
He pressed his face into my chest, and I stared, unblinking and unable to move as he shifted. It was like nothing I'd ever seen. Not only could I hear, but I could feel his bones breaking and rearranging; it was beautiful yet unsettling.
When his front paws turned into hands, he held onto the step, his face buried in my lap, and I watched while his spine moved and snapped into place.
He didn't move afterward, body breathing heavily, and I combed my fingers through his hair. That was incredible, truly remarkable. To watch a man's body break and reform like that, as painful as I knew it was for werewolves, they got used to that pain after a while.
I'd seen Dorian shift before, but it was nothing like this. This was—intimate.
"I'll set you a bath, okay?" I whispered, and he finally looked up at me.
“I love you,” he said, and I went still. “You don't have to say it back, but you mean everything to me, Marian. I hope you know that.”
Where was this coming from all of a sudden? I knew of his feelings but hearing him say those words after all this time, I didn’t know what to say.
I nodded and held his cheek, and he smiled. He didn't seem bothered that I didn't say it back or say anything at all, but the words were on the tip of my tongue. Of course, I loved him, I always have, but I'd taught myself to keep my heart locked in a cage, so that now, it was hard opening that cage, even for him.
"We found Isaac's apartment," he sat up, and so did I. "He wasn't there," he added as if he knew that my follow-up question would be if Isaac was dead.
"The door was open, and from his faint scent, he hadn't slept there last night," he rubbed at his chin. "We think he might be a high-ranking vampire.”
I pulled a face. “High ranking?”
“We don’t have proof,” he explained. “But Killian couldn’t find anything on him. Only high-ranking vampires can have their history removed from existence because the majority of the time if not all, their past was in all red, if you know what I mean.”
“Isaac's record is spotless, no recorded accidents from an untamed time, nothing, not even a speeding ticket. So if he’s not a royal and certainly not an elder, he’s someone of importance somehow.”
Killian worked for the government and had connections, so if anyone could find information that was otherwise hidden, it would be him. Could it be true then, was Isaac a high-ranking vampire? What was a vampire like that doing all the way out here and alone?
“What now then?” I got up and picked up my flowers to put them in the water. “Are you guys going to call the Hunter Organization for them to take over?”
“If we do that, there’s a more likely chance Isaac will be killed,” Dorian answered and walked from the room.
Shit, I thought before following him into the hall and up the stairs.
“A high caliber vampire being untamed is like a lion loose in a zoo filled with kids. It has to be put down, but Killian also doesn’t want to draw vampire attention to Wolfcreek," Dorian got into the shower, and I sat on the closed toilet. "Isaac's the first vampire to stop here, and we don't want problems for the pack or town.”
I could understand that. I certainly didn't want things to turn into a circus.
"But will you and the pack be able to handle a high-ranking vampire and an untamed one at that?" I inquired. "I don't want anyone to get hurt, Dorian, especially you. I want Isaac to get help, and I pray he hasn’t killed anyone... wait, were there any bodies?”
"No," Dorian grumbled low, and he glanced at me through the shower glass door.
"The apartment was spotless, no blood, no bodies. Well, there was blood but in the fridge and only blood bags. It was no typical untamed home because, as expected, their homes are usually a mess."
"What does that mean about Isaac then?" I asked, and Dorian turned the shower off and stepped out.
“I don’t know,” he answered.
