“Or your sire found out she was pregnant and compelled her to give you up. If he’d stuck around and realised she was expecting, it could have been that it wouldn’t be safe for you, or her. This was nearly twenty years ago. Two decades, Charley. In supernatural terms, the ink was barely dry on the terms of the truce. A half vamp baby could have been a target for anyone trying to tear that agreement to pieces. To cause a war,” I added for emphasis. “If no one knew you existed, you couldn’t be a threat.”
“Jeezus.” It was a barely-there exhalation, a ghost of a whisper, but of course, I heard him. I didn’t say anything, but let him come to terms with the possibilities as I saw them. After a few minutes, when the only sound in the room was the crackling of the logs in the wood burner, Charley relaxed his grip on his knees and slumped against me, burrowing his face into my jumper. I carded gentle fingers through his hair and waited some more.
“I was dumped just inside the perimeter fence of a hippy commune. Little white Babygro and a blue knitted cardigan, with my name scrawled on a scrap of paper. And a blanket.” He sounded aggrieved as he added, “They put me in a cardboard box. Like the fucking recycling.”
I bit back a smile. We hadn’t always been rich. Sturdy boxes had served as cribs for several of my recent ancestors, but then again, I’d never been abandoned and adopted, so I reckoned Charley was entitled to feel pissed about it. I kissed the top of his head. “So, Charley is your given name, not one you had foisted on you later? Whoever your mum was, it sounds like she cared. She named you, and wanted to be sure you were found.” That sounded to me as if Charley’s father was ignorant of his offspring. Frankly it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch if Charley had been snuffed out shortly after birth, his sire having promised to remove the baby to a safe place and then, whoops, slight squeeze of a supernaturally strong hand and end of problem. Because Charleywas— or could be — a problem. God only knew what his talents might be, and whether he was in full control of them. He’d had nobody to guide him, no one that knew half his DNA was that of a race of highly-strung, volatile blood-suckers and had brought him up accordingly. But, I had to allow, some vampires were more principled than others, in a way humans would understand, rather than their own moral code, so the jury was out on whether Charley’s sire was good vamp or bad. Did it even matter? I wondered.
I decided it did matter. If we could have avoided bringing Charley to the attention of the Council, I’d have been happier, because somewhere right now, folks were going to be asking a lot of questions. But I’d had to be honest in order to secure the safe house, or honest enough that alarm bells would be ringing, and rightly so; we had to keep all supes safe from humans who would hurt us. From the start, I’d known subconsciously that Charley wasn’t human, even if vamp hybrid hadn’t been top of my list. I didn’t think he was a threat to anyone except maybe himself, but whether the Council members felt differently wasn’t something I could predict. Just because it had taken me a while to piece together his identity didn’t mean squat. Gethin had got there within seconds.
I tightened my grip on the soft brown strands in my hand. Tugged a little. Enjoyed the silent gasp that my fingers elicited. Leaning over, I sucked at a patch of soft skin behind Charley’s ear. “Want to go to bed and I’ll help you forget for a while?”
“Will you suck my cock?”
I didn’t bother hiding the smile in my voice this time. “Seeing as you asked so nicely, I’m sure I could.” Pulling him with me, I asked, “How do you feel about restraints?”
He half stumbled, then stopped and faced me, his irises the barest azure rim around massive pupils. “You wanna tie me up and suck me?” I nodded. He groaned. “And use your fingers on me, like, inside me?” He sounded hopeful. I inclined my head again. This time he shuddered, but I knew it was with excitement, not trepidation. “Be rough with me, please, Luc.” It came out like a prayer.
He really was fucking perfect.
* * *
FacingCharley over the kitchen table, both of us nursing coffees, I asked him what I should have done much sooner. “This murder you’re wanted for. Can you give me some details? I should know what we’re up against.”
His expression tightened, and he stared at the table for a long minute.
“Have you heard of the Red Wyverns?” He addressed the wood grain, and I noticed how the fist not wrapped around his coffee mug clenched and unclenched.
I responded with a soft whistle. Damn, this wasn’t good. The Red Wyverns were a notorious motorcycle club on the outskirts of Tratton St Mary. “I’ve heard of them,” I said carefully. “What do they have to do with your…predicament, exactly?”
The blue of Charley’s pretty eyes was clouded as he raised his gaze to mine. “I work for them, part time. Hung out at some of their bars. Chip, the bloke who died? He was one of their lot. I didn’t mind Chip. He wasn’t a total arsehole like half of them are.”
My mind was blown. Pretty goth boy Charley Entwhistle might have been half vampire and tough as nails, but he practically had twink written all over him in neon glitter. The local biker clubs weren’t renowned for their LGBT+ inclusion, and the Wyverns were no exception. What the hell was he doing anywhere near them?
Absently, I made myself a fresh coffee. I waved the pot at Charley, but his mouth twisted and he shook his head. I didn’t push it; he was eating and drinking a bit more normally, and he no longer looked as if a stiff breeze would blow him over.
Leaning against the counter, I tried again. “Where did you work? Not behind one of their bars, I’m guessing.” They wouldn’t put a kid looking like actual jailbait behind the bar, surely?
“I used to clean at the Ragged Lion. And at The Dive.” Charley scoffed. “They wouldn’t want me out front. I can do the leather and the scowl, but I like my eyeliner too, and I don’t exactly scream biker, do I?” He scoffed again. “Plenty of the members like getting their dicks sucked, and they’re not too fussy who does it, but they’d never admit that. I’d have been beaten to a pulp for being openly gay.” He sighed. “Had a night shift at a warehouse too. I was finally pulling in some decent money and this blows up in my face.”
“What happened to this Chip? How did he die?”
Charley shrugged. “He was stabbed, round the back of the Ragged Lion. Precise details weren’t very forthcoming, and I didn’t exactly stick around to ask when I found out the security footage wasn’t going to exonerate me the way it should have. All I know is that the knife that killed him apparently had my prints on it. That’s not particularly surprising. I’d have got my prints on it to clean it. What I don’t know is if it wasonlymy prints, because that doesn’t look good. But I was at The Dive the night Chip died. IknowI was. Anyway, that’s when I met you, running from Ledge and the rest of them.” He sank his head into his hands. “God, I’m a piece of shit. Chip was more than just someone I got on okay with. He came out to me the week before he died. I let him fuck me. I should be more upset he’s dead, right?”
It wasn’t my place to condemn or condone his reactions to anything, but he apparently wanted my opinion. I racked my brains for the appropriate something to say.
“My parents threw me out for not being straight. My dad tried to beat the shit out of me. But I’m a lot stronger than he realised, because he always underestimated me, and when we fought, I half killed him. Then I cleared out, taking only what I could stuff into a couple of holdalls, and leaving my mother to deal with the mess. Literal mess,” I clarified. “He jumped me in the woods behind our house, and I left him there. He was too fucked up to shift. I don’t regret it for a second. I was too busy fighting for my life, then getting the hell out of town to waste emotions on regret. Sounds like you haven’t had time to mourn this Chip because you’ve been too busy staying hidden. Not that I’m saying you have to mourn him. Just ’cause he was gay doesn’t mean he had to be your soul mate.”
Charley looked at me, wide-eyed. “You nearly killed your father? Fuck, areyouin danger? Wanted by the cops?”
I shook my head. “Doesn’t work like that with wolves. We keep the police out of our internal affairs if at all possible. I beat him fair and square. My physical strength took him out.” I swallowed, that afternoon coming back to me. “I didn’t want to kill him. I was furious, but I’ve got no ambitions to take over any pack responsibilities. Stopping him from killing me was what mattered.”
“Yeah, I get that. So how come you’re rich and everything? Doesn’t that go down the family line?” A faint pink washed his cheeks and he hastily added, “I was joking about the sugar baby, you know that, right? I’ll try and pay you back for everything. Might take me ages, but—”
“It’s okay, Charley. I knew it was a joke.” I put our empty mugs in the dishwasher. “We should get some fresh air while it’s cloudy out. You coming?”
He nodded, looking surprised at the change of subject, but I was happy to continue answering him after we changed into sturdy walking boots, and pulled waterproof jackets over our tops. There was a soft mist coating the landscape, but it wasn’t a bad day for getting outside. I locked the back door securely, and we headed away from the property and into the wilderness.
“My great-grandfather started the business. He had two sons and a daughter, Grandpa obviously being one of them. He left everything to my grandfather when Grandpa’s brother was killed. And Grandpa only had one child, my mum. Wolves tend to be pretty sexist, so I got named as his successor.”
