"Oh, good, you're awake," Lachlan said with a smile. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of juice in the other. "I didn't know what you would want more, but you need to hydrate."
"I don't need aftercare. I need to go home," Apollo replied, trying to get around him.
"We didn't have sex." Lachlan blocked his path. "Trust me, golden boy, if we did, you would definitely need the aftercare."
Apollo flushed. He was not awake enough to deal with this. "I need to go home," he repeated.
"I know, but we need to sort some things out first. What do you remember about last night?" Lachlan set the drinks on top of a dresser but didn't move from where he stood, blocking the door.
Apollo huffed, knowing he wasn't going to get out of this conversation. "I don't know. I drank and danced. There was a guy—I think he was French—and then nothing?"
"That fucking dick injected you with drugs and tried to kidnap you," Lachlan said, his voice dropping to a growl.
"Yeah, right. I think I would know if I was kidnapped," Apollo replied, panic rising.
Lachlan reached for Apollo's shirt, but he smacked at his hand. Lachlan ignored him and yanked his shirt up.
"What do you call that bruise then? It's from when the van crashed, and the seat belt caught you."
Apollo stared down at the thick stripe of red and blue on his chest. He remembered having one just like it after his mother had died. He swallowed the knot in his throat. "I don't…remember."
"The fucker roofied you," Lachlan said. His fingers caressed over Apollo's ribs. "Nothing is broken. You're just a bit banged up."
Apollo's dick twitched dangerously, and he pushed his shirt down. "If all that's true, how did I get here?"
"I followed you. I was worried you were going to get into trouble and my hunch was right. I saw the fucker putting you into a van, and I stopped him."
Apollo rubbed at his neck. His mind was a complete blank. "What happened to him?"
"He's dead."
"You killed him?"
Lachlan crossed his arms. "I wanted to, but no. He used blood magic to kill himself. Said something about Sanguis Vitae, and that you were their prize. Name ring any bells?"
"It means Blood of Life in Latin. Sounds like a shit vampire band."
Lachlan's lips twitched into a smile. "I wish. The only thing Layla has been able to dig up is that they were an alchemical society in a branch of Catherine de Medici's court in France. And they are clearly doing blood magic."
"Which is fucked up at the best of times. I'll ask Cosimo. He's the Medici expert."
Lachlan still didn't move. "Any idea why they would be after you?"
"Maybe they are after my shampoo recipe," Apollo said sarcastically with a flutter of his eyelashes.
"These guys haven't been heard from in centuries, Apollo. Suddenly, they pop up and want to kidnap you. You need to take this seriously!" Lachlan growled out between his teeth.
"I amseriouslygoing home. Now move," Apollo insisted. He yanked at the door handle, and Lachlan's hand shot out to keep it from opening.
"Let me drive you. Your clothes are in the wash, and your shoes are ruined. You vomited up all over them," he said.
Apollo covered his face with his hands and groaned. "Goddamn it. I liked those."
"You were in pretty bad shape. Let me get you home safe, okay?" Lachlan said. He looked tired, and guilt wormed its way through Apollo's guts. At least, he hoped it was guilt. He wasn't feeling great, and he needed to get to his own lab for some hangover cures.
"Okay, fine, but I'm taking the coffee," Apollo said and took the cup from the dresser. He sipped, knowing it was going to be made just the way he liked it.
"You can take whatever you like." Lachlan smiled, and he was so hot, it hurt.
