“You let a psychopath live in your house.”
“Technically, you aren’t diagnosed. Though, I’m pretty positive psychopath isn’t an official diagnosis.”
“Not sure. But no, I haven’t been tested for anything. Which really is due to no one wanting to spend the money on it when I was growing up. But I have enough tendencies that it’s not really necessary to confirm shit. Plus, I’m pretty sure the government wouldn’t let me keep working as a hunter if I did test for whatever it is.”
“I do not have a death wish!” Foxx snapped.
“If you say so.”
“I don’t!” the vampire cried, seeming to be winding himself up.
“I’m not saying you do.”
“You are thinking it,” he accused.
Oh, Harlow was thinking something. More that the man had a fascination with danger rather than a death wish. Most did when it came to this job. “I’m not, I promise.”
“I do not have a death wish. I just want to go on adventures and have fun, and not be bored. Like, I may find violence sexy and a turn on, but I do not want to die!” Foxx’s face turned bright red after the words came out. And he quickly tried to take them back. “I mean…scratch all that last part…but like, no death wish…hah. The ‘violence sexy’ thing was a misspeak. I find violence fascinating, that is all. That is all I find it. Not sexy. Not a turn on. It is just interesting to watch.”
Harlow burst into laughter. It appeared that when Foxx got flustered, he tended to blurt out his secrets.
“Stop laughing!” the vampire whined. “It was a misspeak, okay!”
“Sure, sure,” he snickered.
“It was!”
Foxx stared out of the window at the sun, which was quickly blocked by the awning Harlow parked them under. They had arrived at the hotel. It had been a long ass trip. And he was tired. And embarrassed because his dumbass continuously blurted shit out that he shouldn’t anytime he got overly flustered.
“I’ll go check us in,” Harlow grumbled as he jumped out.
Foxx nodded and waved him on. Not that the man had even seen the wave, since he'd already walked away.
He yawned as he stared blankly. His sleep seemed to be getting more and more messed up. Harlow had tried to get him to nap, but…he didn’t feel right sleeping while Harlow was stuck driving. Though it would seem that the human may have preferred him asleep…oh well.
Foxx could at least confirm that Harlow didn’t hate him now. He still didn’t like talking as much as Foxx did. But the man also hadn’t told him to shut up this time. So that was an improvement from the last case. And he had learned some new information about Harlow. Not much, but he now knew he had no blood family, and one person in his life that he considered his found family. It was progress—a win in his book.
Harlow returned soon enough with their keycards and a package in hand. He was guessing the package was their earpieces and mics. Foxx grabbed his suitcase and looped his bags over the handle before picking up the blood cooler and following the human into the hotel. He must have zoned out as he ended up bumping right into Harlow’s back when he stopped.
Harlow glanced back at him with a brow raised, but Foxx just shrugged. Using a card key, the human opened their hotel room. Foxx followed him inside and set his stuff by the second bed, as the other man took the first.
He sat down on his bed with a sigh and wondered if they’d have to set off right away. Foxx…didn’t function well without sleep. At least, not without pumping himself full of blood. He guessed he’d have to do that often now.
“Charity called to tell me it would be hours still before they’ll have the information ready for us. Apparently, they are waiting on a few warrants.” Harlow pointed to the bed and commanded, “Sleep.”
Normally, Foxx didn’t like having orders barked at him like he was a dog, but he was so tired. “I’m only listening because I’m tired,” Foxx said with a sniff.
Kicking his shoes off, he hopped off the bed, yanked the covers down, and slid in. Snuggling into the covers, sleep quickly took him.
* * *
Harlow sat theredouble checking his guns before slipping them into their holsters. He usually had weapons on him at all times. Typically, during his down time, he stuck to one gun and some randomly placed knives, along with his short sword that was hidden on his back. More than that just seemed like overkill.
He eyed Foxx’s back. The curve of his hips and thick ass were very noticeable while he was lying down. Forcing his eyes away from the vampire’s ass, he eyed the back of Foxx’s head. The man was softly snoring. Should he bother to wake him?
Harlow didn’t really need the help. But he’d probably get bitched at if he left him behind…by multiple people. Ah, his job used to be so easy.
Foxx snuffled and then suddenly sat up, creepily, staring blankly for a few moments before slowly turning to look at him. The vampire blinked in confusion. “Is it time to go?” he asked with a yawn, voice soft with sleep.
