He used to spend his time reading or gaming or watching television. Nowadays, he hardly had the energy to feed, let alonedo anything else. Nothing held his interest. The most exciting thing to happen to him in forever was getting chased by a werewolf, and petting it when it chose not to bite his head off.
Kit put his hand to his face where the werewolf had licked him. Maybe the werewolf was out there now, howling at the moon. Part of him wanted to run outside and check, but he didn’t do it. Best to remain inside—keep the meeting to a one-off.
If he stayed alone, then nobody could ever hurt him again.
FOUR
Quin
It had beena while since Quin needed to chain himself up to change. But he’d taken the precaution of doing so over the last couple of nights, lest his beast lead him back into town.
It wanted to chase the vampire again—to seek him out and make him theirs.
His beast was a possessive creature, apparently.
Quin couldn’t remember his beast feeling this way about Lark. Sure, he’d followed him around like a pup and sought him out when in a group, but Lark had never made him feral with desire.
Before now, Quin hadn’t come across a vampire. None lived close to the packs’ territories. He’d only recognised the vampireasa vampire thanks to his fangs and talons. Otherwise, Quin might have assumed that the vampire was just a particularly pretty little human, who smelt better than anything Quin had ever smelt before.
But maybe all werewolves found themselves attracted to the scent of vampires.
Regardless, Quin had been forced to keep his beast in check. Nothing a few heavy-duty chains from the harbour couldn’t fix.He’d also bought extra cuts of meat as a distraction. The full rack of ribs and tomahawk steak made a dent in his bank balance, but he’d simply pick up a couple more freelance jobs before the next full moon to supplement his income.
Quin looked at his phone again, swiping through apps with no new notifications before triple-checking the weather app. He’d pottered around the house after a deliberate and necessary lie-in, waiting for the sun to go down. Although he hadn’t wanted his beast to chase after the vampire, now that he was back to his usual self, he could go searching.
Another hour before sundown would arrive. He knew the vampire resided in Anstruther, close to Quin’s own place. Other than that, he’d have to follow his nose. The village wouldn’t be big enough for the vampire to hide from Quin for long.
Not that he wasstalkingthe vampire. He was simply seeking with good intentions.
He hadn’t even learned the vampire’s name. It felt rude in his head to refer to him asthe little vampire, even if he was so small that Quin could fit him in his pocket.
He made a mental note not to say that to the vampire’s face, however. It might make it harder for Quin to convince the vampire they should be friends.
Because Quin hadn’t moved across the UK to wallow. Well, notonlyto wallow. He needed to make pals other than Mabel. His doggie companion was great, but he occasionally enjoyed communicating in more than barks.
Quin rubbed a hand through his hair, remembering how the vampire’s nails had dug satisfyingly into his scalp when he’d touched him. Quin missed the easy touches he would get with his pack. Werewolves were tactile beings, and it’d been wonderful to be the one being given attention for once.
It took him little time to catch the vampire’s sweetly spiced scent. There was something so singular about it that, evenamongst the competing smells across the village, Quin picked it out. He followed it to a general area—a short side street with identical, white-painted houses—and only then did he consider his next step. His nose could sniff out the vampire’s exact address, but knocking on the door would cross a line. As it was, he skirted close to it already.
So, he waited at the end of the street, chilling on a wall and scrolling on his phone in a bid to look nonchalant.
Luck won out. Not long after sundown, one of the front doors opened, and he spotted a familiar head of blond curls bobbing behind a car and onto the road. The vampire looked even smaller now that Quin was on two legs and not four.
Quin stood up as the vampire walked down the middle of the road. The vampire stopped dead, his gaze locked onto Quin.
Quin waved, and the vampire tilted his head instead of responding.
“Hello,” Quin called, risking a step forward.
The vampire narrowed his eyes.
“Yes, I’m talking to you.”
The vampire slunk closer. His nostrils flared, and his eyes widened, making them appear impossibly large. “Werewolf,” he whispered. If Quin hadn’t been a supernatural creature, there was no way that he would have heard him.
“I’m Quin. It’s nice to meet you properly.” Quin took another tentative step, holding out his hand for a handshake, the gesture automatic even though he was still far from touching distance.
The vampire still appeared shell-shocked at his appearance.
