“Yes,” DJ said. “It was how we found what we needed to contact you.”
“You broke into Lawrence’s house?”
“Yes.”
Before Kit asked his question for a third time, Rake shot one at him instead. “Do you think he might have followed us?”
“How should I know?” Kit asked. “What precautions did you take?”
“We left Brighton before it got dark,” DJ explained. “So he couldn’t have trailed us even if he’d wanted to.”
Kit nodded. “And you’ll stay here until it’s light before going back?”
“Um,” DJ said, looking at Rake. They had work in the morning, so couldn’t hang around in a hotel car park till sunrise.
“Well, we hoped you might come back with us tonight to speak to Lynette as soon as possible,” Rake said.
“Christ, you two are hopeless,” Kit said.
Rake let his irritation show. “Apologies if our plan isn’t up to your standards. It’s not every day we have to deal with vampire bullshit.”
“Hmmph. Fine. I’ll see what Lynette knows.” Kit jerked his head at the hotel. “Give me a minute to get my stuff.”
It was more like thirty seconds, and then Kit was standing right next to them again, with a rucksack now on his back. Rake flinched at his sudden reappearance. It hit himthen, how reckless they’d been. Neither of them could have faced a creature like Kit and come out on top.
“Well, let’s get a move on,” Kit said breezily as he walked towards their car. Of course, he must have been watching them pull up in the first place.
When they got back on the road, awkward silence filled the car until DJ asked, “Kit, where are you from?”
Kit didn’t answer for a few seconds. “A town outside of Glasgow,” he said finally. That explained the unfamiliar accent.
“Cool! I went to Edinburgh for a long weekend when I was younger.”
“Bully for you,” Kit said.
“I mean, not all of Scotland is the same, of course. But it’s the closest I’ve been.”
Kit clicked his tongue, but didn’t engage further.
Apparently, DJ wasn’t done. “I grew up in Worthing, but Rake and I met at uni in Brighton.”
Rake thudded his head back against the headrest. It was like the ghost of the most talkative taxi driver in the world had possessed DJ. At this rate, Kit would give them a one-star rating.
So, Kit surprised him when he spoke up again. “What about you, Rake?”
He tried to tamp down the uncomfortable feeling he got when asked about his family. “London.”
“If you’re trying to ask where he’sreallyfrom—” DJ started, but Kit cut him off.
“No! I was just making conversation. It’s… been a while.”
Rake looked in the wing mirror at Kit. He was staring out of the window, streetlights flashing against his glasses,absently nibbling on a thumbnail. Rake took pity on him. After all, he knew that a good way to establish bonds of empathy was to provide personal information that people connected to.
He’d read about it.
“All of my grandparents are from India,” he explained. “My parents’ marriage was an arranged one. I have one younger sister, who I think is at university now. My family doesn’t acknowledge my sexuality, so we haven’t talked since I left home at eighteen.”
DJ gawped at Rake from the driver’s seat. It was rare for him to speak about his family to anyone, including DJ. He hadn’t even had the chance to tell Shaun much about his background yet.
