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Aaron was in quite the tizzy.
He’d battered through the front door of our penthouse with such savage force, I’d had to check the hinges were still properly attached.
While I was checking the door, he threw his shirt off and started pacing back and forth in the living room, hands on hips and face all a fluster. He was snarling and grumbling and spitting out considerably more curse words than I’d ever heard from him before. “Fucking vamp! Crazy, bloodsucking bastard!”
His Olympian physique was glistening in sweat. And I had to admit to being a tad envious of all the muscle. Fae weren’t inclined to bulkiness, no matter how hard we suffered at the gym. We made up for it in other ways though.
“Damn, I’m fucking hot.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand.
“You certainly are, luvvie.” I nodded at his chiseled torso and licked my lips, trying to inject a little levity into the drama.
He huffed. “Don’t, I’m being serious. My bear is raging. I can feel him clawing at my insides, trying to get out.”
That jangled my nerves. I had no desire to deal with that colossal, unpredictable grizzly, nor for him to rage rampant in our penthouse. There might be nothing left of it, or me, if he did. Keeping a calm manner, I spoke softly, saying, “Well, just breathe, old chap. Breathe deeply, focus, let’s try to calm him down.”
I walked to the kitchen, the whole floor plan was open, so we didn’t lose eye contact, and I reached for the medicine cabinet. Well, booze cupboard, as some might have called it. “How about a drink, to soothe the nerves?”
Aaron nodded. “Just one. The last thing we need is him getting drunk.”
“Agreed.” I perused the packed cupboard, and its two dozen bottles of all shades and shapes. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten what your poison is.” I picked out a bottle of particularly expensive single malt Scotch for myself. Aaron drank so rarely, and was usually such a sober and sensible chap, I couldn’t remember what he liked.
“Whatever you’re having, it doesn’t matter.” He strode to the southern wall, which was floor-to-ceiling glass. He stood staring out pensively over the Kings’ Hills and the glittering lights of New Lincoln.
“Scotch it is then.” I tinkled some ice cubes into two crystal tumblers, squeaked the bottle’s cork free and poured a generous measure into each glass.
I walked across and handed one to him. “Here, it’s strong, so best to sip—”
He guzzled it in two clinks of ice against crystal and gasped in satisfaction. “Thanks.” He handed it straight back to me and resumed his pacing of the living room’s length.
I clunked his empty glass on the counter and tipped a mouthful of my own whiskey. The spirit’s smoky vapors wisped, pleasing my nose, as the liquid did the same in my stomach, filling it with a warm, reassuring glow.
I hoped the alcohol was having the same sedative effect on Aaron’s grizzly.
“Any better?” I asked.
Aaron sighed. “A bit, yeah. Thanks. He’s still pretty wound up though.”
I gestured to the couch. “For goodness’ sake, at least have a seat. All that pacing back and forth can’t be helping. At the very least, you’ll wear a hole in the rug.”
Nodding, he sat, but in far from a relaxed fashion, perching on the edge, brushing his palm across his head repeatedly, messing up his already disheveled hair. He sighed and exhaled strongly and far too quickly, again in succession, almost like an animal panting.
I stood across from him, hoping talking things out calmly might avert a potential catastrophe.
“Okay, so, just breathe, in and out again, but focus on slowing it down.”
He looked at me and tried to match my next long inhale. And long exhale. We repeated the exercise a few more times and at least he wasn’t panting anymore.
“Now, you were saying something about a vampire?”
“Yeah, yeah. He’s a coven leader. I’ve seen him around campus.”
“I see. And what exactly happened?”
“Okay, we were at the game and—”
“Game?”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “The football game.Americanfootball.”
