“Do not say his name if you would have any strength left!” Weryn glowered.
He was tempted to go to the boy and grasp his chin, force him to look up into his eyes and beg for forgiveness. But the boy seemed unimpressed by him. In fact, the boychallengedhim. Moreover, heshamedhim.
“Youwould attackme?” The boy lifted an eyebrow at him.
“You speak Ashyr’s name as your own,” he pointed out, feeling foolish at having to explain himself. And why was he explaining himself?
“The Weryn I know would never attack aboy. That’s how you see me, don’t you?” The boy studied his face.
“You are a young man, I suppose, in human terms. But a boy all the same. You look… soft.”
That had not been the word he had intended to say. It had a note of longing to it. Almost as if it attracted him.
“Soft?” The boy laughed bitterly. “Yet that has not been my life this time around. My looks were always a blessing and a burden on the streets. They drew too much attention. The wrong kind.”
“Who…” He stopped. He’d been about to ask who had dared to look without permission or desire. But what did he care about that? Pretty boys like this were always in danger. “You should have found someone strong to protect you.”
Another bitter laugh. “I didn’t need someone to protect me. I could protect myself.”
“You have muscles and a lean fighter’s form, but against a truly powerful person you would be taken,” Weryn grunted.
“Many have thought so,” the boy answered. “If they saw me like this, they might be right.”
“You are ill now. None will want you,” Weryn said. “None of the humans in any case.”
The boy looked up at him. “So I’m safe now because I’m ill? What an interesting idea!”
“From humans. But others could see your value. How you could bloom again,” Weryn answered.
“Oh, bloom again.” The boy lowered his head and looked up at Weryn through dark, thick lashes. “So aVampirecould see value in me.”
“Not when you call yourself Ashyr reborn,” Weryn brought the conversation back to the important point. “How you have convinced these others is beyond me.”
“Is it my current weakness that makes you think I am not Ashyr reborn? Or that you don’t believe Ashyr is coming back? Or something else?” Those keen tawny eyes studied him.
He didn’t know why. It wasn’t a feeling even. It was just…
“Ashyr is gone,” he found himself saying.
“I was,” the boy agreed. “But not really. Not truly gone. Just… waiting.”
“Waiting?” Weryn glared at him.
“I would say I was waiting for you, but you’ve been here over two hundred years–”
“I have been around for far longer than that!” he snapped.
“Not this time around. But that’s not why I was delayed, I think.” The boy looked thoughtful.
“You are not Ashyr,” another growl.
A look of despair washed over that beautiful face. “You really believe that.”
“He wants to,” the pretty blond Vampire said.
“He wants to think I’m gone?” the boy asked.
“Yes, yes, he does,” the blond Vampire answered.
