What happens now?
Miles
Thehouseisquietwhen I wake. The kind of stillness that speaks of the dead of night. Everyone’s sleeping, and it feels as though the rest of the world is too, only the barest hint of life outside the house. Xavier, who was beside me when we went to sleep, is gone. No reason to worry, I know exactly where he is. Hunter had to have known what would happen, too, even when he’d smiled saccharinely and shown us “our” room.
Throwing off the sheet and blanket, I lift my clothes from the rocking chair in the corner. It’s warm tonight, so I don’t bother putting socks on, and I leave my shirt unbuttoned, hanging at my sides. Quickly putting my hair up in a ponytail, I venture out.
The spare room that Matthew is sleeping in is on the way to the kitchen, and I pause, listening. No sounds from there either. Good.
Xavier’s bag is where I left it on the couch, his laptop resting inside. Hunter is as methodical in his storage methods as he is in every other part of his life, so finding coffee items and a mug iseasy enough. It takes fewer than five minutes to be seated at the table, laptop open and coffee steaming.
The information I’m after takes a little longer. Roger has better security than I remembered. He’s learning. I hate that.
It doesn’t mean he’s good enough, or that I can’t get through. Nowhere is impenetrable. Not even our security; it’s why we constantly review it, and anything we don’t want found is simply not available tobefound.
A door opens nearby and then soft footsteps. That has to be Matthew. Him walking into the room confirms that theory. He stops when he sees me and rubs one eye. Because he’s tired or checking I’m not an illusion?
“What are you doing?” he asks, voice sleep roughened. He looks oddly endearing, standing there in the darkened doorway, wearing nothing but black boxers with bananas on them. He’s holding one hand on his stomach, the other lower, as if shy. Modesty, even after everything we did last night. How long would it take for that to disappear? Would it ever?
“Working.”
Matthew blinks. “It’s two o’clock in the morning.”
“Yes.” The dining seat I chose gives me views of the hallway leading to the bedrooms, the entrance, and the neon time on the microwave. I prefer to sit in complete darkness, where no one can spot me, and I can be the surprise in the dark that they didn’t count on. Unfortunately, using a laptop ruins my element of surprise. A necessary evil for when I have this kind of research to conduct.
“Um, I need to…” He turns around and disappears where he came from. A few minutes later he returns, his hair ruffled like he’s run a wet hand through it. “Sorry. I had to—” He cuts it short and clears his throat. “The bladder waits for no man.” He pauses. “Or woman.” Another pause. “For anyone.”
I can’t help the amused smirk. There isn’t a single thought of his that stays inside his head even if it shouldn’t see the light of day.
He sighs, filling the silence, and shuffles closer. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“I like the quiet.” The early hours of the morning have always been comforting to me. It’s a good thing I’ve always functioned well on minimum sleep.
“Too bad you weren’t born a vampire.” He cocks his head. “Made a vampire? Are vampiresborn?” He taps his hip, all shyness gone as he contemplates his strange question. Questions.
“They aren’t real.”
He gives me a small smile and then shrugs. “Probably depends on the lore. The point is that you’d be a good vampire. All night and no day. This would be your breakfast time.”
“I don’t eat breakfast.”
“The teacher in me has so many things to say to that.”
“I have no doubt.”
“You shouldn’t skip meals. Especially not with your physique.”
“My physique?”
He waves at all of me. “You know, the muscles and stuff. There’s no way you could maintain that on a lacking diet.”
Hmm. “It sounds like you’ve thought a lot about it.”
“The diet or your body?” Even from here and under the dull lighting, I can see the red spreading over his cheeks. “Don’t answer that.” He lets out another sigh, this one softer, and carefully perches himself on the chair beside me, curling one leg under himself. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that vampires only really have one diet.”
“And that’s your suggestion? Blood for breakfast?”
“Are you a vampire?”
