Vern cleared his throat, and with his eyes never leaving Harlow, the man made a wide berth around them to get to the downed human.
The woman tsked, shaking her head as she watched her partner carry the man past them, again making another wide berth. “Sorry about that. But it was good seeing you, Harlow. Maybe we can sit down and have a meal when the world is less on fire.”
The smile that slipped onto his face was more genuine than it had been since she showed up. “Sounds good, Elowen. I’d liked to catch up. Just drop me a call, my number’s the same.”
“I’ll do that. That cutie beside you is welcome to come as well.” She turned to leave, but paused and turned back, a smile on her face as she said, “You know, I always had a feeling you were into men. I even made a bet with Gabe about it.” The smile dimmed a little, sadness creeping in. “Fucker owes me twenty… Though, I guess if I want it, I’d have to dig him up.”
“A waste of sweat, if you ask me. The bastard would definitely find a way to dig himself deeper to get away from you.”
She let out a surprised bark of laughter. “That he would. That he would… See you, Harlow.” Elowen spun around and left.
Harlow maintained the fake smile until the car was out of sight, and then he slowly turned towards the person who’d been staring at him silently through the tail end of the conversation.
“Need something?” he asked Foxx with a raised brow.
The vampire crossed his arms, his eyes trailing over him. “What was that?”
Harlow smirked. “Congrats, Foxx. You just got to witness me faking being normal.”
“I'm not going to lie, it was kind of creepy. Next question, why did you fake being normal?”
“Simple. Because back then, she made a big ass meal for anyone who went on a hunt with her and her partner. After just one taste, making sure she liked me became a necessity.”
Foxx snorted. “Faking it for food. I thought you said you didn’t do many joint hunts.”
“Damn right, I did. Best fucking brisket I’ve ever had. And we didn’t, which is why the liking part was important. Because while she would grudgingly feed anyone after a hunt, she and her partner would invite those they liked over anytime they happened to be in the same area.”
“Ah, and no one ratted you out?”
Harlow chuckled. “I got some stares, but those nutjobs had their own shit to worry about.”
“Think she’ll feed us after this? She did say she wanted to eat with us.”
“Ah…I don’t know. Her partner and husband, Gabe…who we mentioned earlier, died in a hunt gone wrong, right before paranormals were exposed. She stepped back from hunting at the time, and I honestly haven’t seen much of her since then. This may actually be the first time in years. I didn’t even know she was hunting again.”
Foxx’s nose wrinkled. “Didn’t think to visit her after her loss?”
He had, it was just… “I did…a few times. But the thing about faking being normal is that you have to know how to express those emotions to be able to fake them. After too many close calls, I figured it would be better if I stopped before I hurt the woman. Better I hurt her by not showing up then hurt her by revealing I didn’t actually care or understand. Because as much as I respected both of them as hunters, I felt little at his death, beside possibly anger at the person who caused it. Not exactly an emotion she needed at that time.”
Even though he’d always faked part of himself around them…he had been closer to Gabe and Elowen than the Youngs.
When Harlow had found out about Gabe’s death…he had thought that maybe he would feel something. But he hadn’t. And as he watched Elowen cry, without even a twinge of any sort of emotion triggering, it had slid home in his head just how little he felt for those around him. And with no clue what to say, or how to even fake the emotions that would help, Harlow quickly realized that he couldn’t keep going over.
While he hadn’t just cut her off, Harlowhadgradually pulled away. Fast enough that he got out before she noticed just how off he was, but slow enough that he at least hoped she hadn’t felt the loss. There were luckily still plenty of people able to help her. Like Tony.
“Someone caused it?”
“Part of the blame is on Jake Dunt, but the real person at fault was…Maverick,” he ground out.
“So, was this before or after you shot him in the back?”
Harlow smirked at the memory. “Before. It may have been what pissed me off enough to shoot him. I will say, that year, she happened to send me a nice ass Chr—” He cut off on realizing that was not a word he should say.
“What?” Foxx asked, a smile on his face.
“Nothing!”
The vampire laughed. “No, what? What did you get?”
