A low rumbling growl filled the space around him, so clear that for a second Seb thought it had come from the phone. When another followed hot on its heels, accompanied by another scrape of what he assumed were claws across his front door, Seb turned around slowly.
“Seb?” Jared hissed, low and urgent.
“Yeah,” he whispered back, well aware that whoever was outside was probably listening.
“We’re on our way.”
Thank God. Normally, Seb would have told him not to bother, that he was fine. He had a fair idea of who was out there. Well, notwhoexactly, but it would be the same ones who always did it. Normally he ignored it; nothing ever came of it, but for some reason this time felt different. Whether it was the alcohol flooding his body or the fact that it was two in the morning and the street was otherwise deathly quiet, Seb didn’t know. But he was willing to admit he was really fucking scared.
He kept his gaze fixed on the front door, unable to look away. The small semicircle of glass in the top had never seemed more frightening. When a shadow fell across it, Seb gasped, stumbled backwards, and lost his footing on the stairs. With his coordination already compromised from the beer, he reached for the banister but missed by a mile. At least the alcohol numbed the pain as he tumbled forward and fell in a heap at the bottom, phone still clutched in his other hand.
Now a lot closer to the door, he ignored everywhere that hurt, and with his heart pounding hard against his ribcage, looked up at the glass and listened. One, two, three seconds passed, and nothing.Fuck.
He waited another few seconds before forcing himself upright with a wince.Ow.
Seb had his phone held face down on the carpet, and when he brought it to his ear, Jared’s shouting filled the air.
“Seb!Sebastian!Fucking hell, he’s not answering. We—”
“Don’t ever call me that if you expect an answer.” Leaning his head back against the wall, Seb focused on Jared’s sigh of relief and not the throbbing in various parts of his body. That could wait.
“Thank fuck.” Jared sighed again and Seb closed his eyes and pictured his best friend running a hand over his face and pacing. Unless they were in the car already. “You okay? Are they gone?”
Ignoring the first question, Seb chanced another look at the door. Still nothing, and it felt like whoever had been out there was gone. “Yeah, I think so.”
“And are you okay?” Jared repeated.
“Fell down the stairs.”
“Shit.”
Nathan snarled in the background, but that was kind of comforting when it was on Seb’s behalf. He smiled at the thought, then abruptly shivered as the cold from the wall seeped through his shirt. It was only September, for fuck’s sake. Now the adrenaline had started to fade, everything else came into sharp relief: the hard floor, the cool hallway, and the aftereffects of too many beers. He felt like shit and in no way wanted to move, but he couldn’t stay at the bottom of the stairs all night.
Despite all that, it was far too easy to keep his eyes closed and drift away.
I’ll move in a minute.
“Seb?” Jared’s annoying tinny voice snapped him out of his doze.
“Hmm?” Blinking away sleep, Seb put the phone closer to his ear. “Sorry.”
“Look, we’re almost at yours. I’ve got my spare key, so you don’t have to come down.”
Seb laughed, but couldn’t be arsed to explain that he hadn’t actually managed to get back upstairs. “Yeah, okay.”
It must have been longer, but it felt like only a minute later when Jared opened the door and kneeled next to him.
“Jesus, Seb.” Jared smoothed the hair away from his forehead, and Seb leaned into his hand.
“Ow,” he mumbled when Jared touched a sore spot.
“That’s a nasty bump you’ve got there.” Jared touched it again, much softer this time, but Seb still frowned and tried to bat his hand away, which only made his wrist hurt, and he quickly stopped.
With another muttered curse, Jared stood. “I’m calling Tim.”
Oh, the hot doctor. Shame he’s a shifter.He waved the hand that didn’t hurt in Jared’s direction. “No need. ’M fine.”
Jared snorted. “Of course you are.”
