Apollo drank some water from the glass on the bedside table and noticed the bucket beside it. It was clean, but his mouth told him he had definitely been throwing up. He never threw up.
What had he taken? He didn't do conventional drugs because when he wanted them, he made better and safer ones for natural highs. Something was very, very wrong.
If his suspicions weren't already roused enough, he saw a family picture that had been taken on Midsummer pinned to a corkboard with a bunch of other photos. He was in Lachlan Ironwood's bedroom.
"This can't be happening," he whispered. He stumbled into the bathroom and found a new toothbrush waiting for him. He opened it and scrubbed his teeth.
He washed his face and realized he wasn't in his own clothes. He was wearing a faded black T-shirt and boxers. He looked inside and was relieved to see he was wearing his own underwear, at least.
He checked all of his bits and was 90 percent sure he hadn't had sex. If hedidhave sex with Lachlan and couldn't remember anything, he was going to be pissed. But Lachlan hadn't been out with him last night, so how did he end up in his bed and wearing his clothes?
Because he was weak, Apollo lifted the shirt to his nose and inhaled their now combined scents. Longing and lust drove knives into his guts.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
He had to get out of there. He had to somehow sneak out of a mansion full of hunters and get his ass into an Uber. He couldn't call his brothers. No one could know about this. He found his phone next to the bed, but it was flat. Never mind. The kitchen had a landline. He could sneak in there and use it to order a cab.
Fuck. Apollo didn't know where his clothes or shoes were, but it didn't matter. He had to get out of there. A big part of him longed to snoop through all of Lachlan's stuff, but he couldn't risk wasting the time.
Apollo was reaching for the door when it swung in and nearly hit him in the face. He stumbled backward. "What the fuck?"
"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."
