“I’m so sorry about him,” she said between giggles. “He’s so inappropriate, but the good news is, he won’t ever lie to you.” Her gaze softened. “He’s also got excellent taste in men.”
“Occasionally,” Sorley conceded with a smirk. “Although it’s a bit embarrassing to admit to being a furry.”
“Oh! Will you not?” Gethin choked out. “You really are a horrible man.”
“But with a fantastic arse and a very talented mouth, both of which no doubt more than make up for my rare deficits.” Sorley got to his feet. “We’ll leave you now, sweetie. But please don’t go out of the house without company, i.e. me and/or Gethin, and get a phone ordered. Or I’ll do it for you?” He phrased the last part as a question.
Melody sighed. “Will you do it please? If I look at my computer, there’s bound to be at least one pages-long epistle from my agent about my ‘silly embargo’ on summer gigs.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got everything I need. No matter how many zeroes Chad adds to the offer, I’m hardly going to accept, am I?” She laughed. “‘Melody Mason’s upcoming July dates. Concert times are between eleven p.m. and two a.m..’ Yeah, no. You’d think they’d be pleased they’re still making money hand over fist out of me. For heaven’s sake, they think I’m nearly sixty. Show me any sixty year old that wants a year-round touring schedule and I’ll show you a liar, or someone who spent their formative years hugging needles and in need of a pension top-up.” She shook Gethin’s hand vigorously, and hugged Sorley, then narrowed her eyes at him. “Just so you know, a joke’s fine between us, but insulting an entire communityandmaking a speciesist crack at the same time isn’t for general company. One of these days, your mouth will get you into real trouble. And if you offend a wolf, you might even lose one of your precious fangs to an angry fist. Think on that, my friend.”
Sorley looked annoyed, but he eventually conceded that Melody was right, and he should do better. Gethin didn’t think much of the chances of it happening, but at least the bloodsucker had principled friends.
Gethin and Sorley waited until they heard her lock and bolts engage, then Gethin’s stomach rumbled. Sorley chuckled. “I hope you’ve got some food in the fridge because you’re out of luck at this time of night. This is a small village; no all night superstores here.”
“I figured as much.” He grinned toothily. “I’m sure my furry self could take off and hunt down a few rabbits if we’re out of bacon, so don’t worry about me.”
Sorley gave a gusty sigh as he let them back into his own place. “Don’t get me wrong, the smell of it cooking nowadays is rather strange and not something that tempts me, but I do remember the idea of bacon. And I sort of miss it. The concept, I mean.” He huffed softly and rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically serious as his gaze pingponged around the hallway. “Uh, I…sorry about earlier. Melody might have mentioned before I’m a gobshite. I don’t seem to know when to stop.”
Gethin grunted. “You didn’t technically say anything untrue. Except while the furry comment was kind of funny, it’s also not.” He pushed, not unkindly, past Sorley and down to the kitchen, pulling out drawers to check what cooking equipment the vampire had. “Seriously, did you just buy the first kitchen starter pack from IKEA that jumped into your basket when you moved in? This stuff practically has ‘student’ stamped all over it. Half of it still has the price stickers attached.” He guessed it was for display purposes and had never been used. He knew he shouldn’t attach any significance to the fact he was here, in Sorley’s house, cooking food with purchases the vampire had made, possibly, for a mythical visitor he deemed worthy of knowing his secrets. He was the vampire’s minder for all intents and purposes, and unlikely ever to be more.Which isn’t something you want, is it, daft lad. Don’t confuse good fucking for anything it’s not. Especially when you’re different species. He’s a good-looking immortal smartypants with an itch to scratch, that’s all.
Sorley watched him cook, quiet for once, a glass of wine in his hand as Gethin sliced bread, buttered it, slung rashers under the grill, dug out a sachet of ketchup from the cool bag, slathered it over the bread. He continued watching as Gethin made quick work of his meal.
“That’s better, I needed that.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood to clear up. Rinsing the plate off, he stuck it in the dishwasher, then grabbed the last banana. “I’m too used to your nocturnal hours now. I feel cooped up inside. Can we go out somewhere?”
15
GETHIN
It was quiet now,the last of the pubs having expelled their patrons onto the pavements for the winding stagger back to their homes or hotels. The only signs of life were the occasional dog walker on the flat sands, and the ever-present rustle of less domesticated wildlife scuttling about in the dropped chip wrappers that collected in dark corners.
He followed Sorley, who seemed to have a destination in mind. The vampire halted on an expanse of path edged with a railing-topped wall that overlooked the sea. The wind was cool, laced with salt and mud, the tang of fish in the air reminding Gethin he’d not eaten much that day. Hanging out with a vampire was playing havoc with his digestive system and his sleep patterns. He’d visit a supermarket in the morning and stock up.
For now though, he was content to inhale the breeze and to take in his fill of the surrounding landscape. What he’d seen of inland Yorkshire towns so far hadn’t overly impressed him, but this place was gorgeous. Perhaps it scored points simply by being by the sea.
Sorley gazed across the wide expanse of watery darkness. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It’s not bad.” He hesitated, then went for it. “So, Melody. How did you meet her?”
Sorley’s lips stretched in a lazy grin. “I paid for a VIP ticket to one of her shows.” His grin widened. “That’s right, Hughes, you’re not the only fanboy of our talented goddess’s vocal chords. I was absolutely gone on her. She’s the full package, aye? The voice, the looks, her husky drawl, and those doe eyes that make you think you’re the only person in a room of ten thousand.” He gave a self-deriding snort. “If I’d been a teenage boy, I’d have stuck posters of her on my bedroom wall à la Madonna or Lady Gaga.”
“Was she human then?”
“Oh aye, this was 1990, the year she was turned.”
Something in his tone made Gethin turn to look directly at him. “You turned her, didn’t you, or were somehow responsible for it?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Surely even thirty odd years ago there’d been a code of conduct about consent with regard to turning.
Sorley seemed to suddenly stand taller, and a wave of pride rolled off of him. “I did. I know it was lucky timing, but yes, Melody’s mine. And she tells me all the time how grateful she is that I spent the money on a VIP ticket, or I’d never have known, and neither would she.” His voice cracked. “Until it was too late. And that would have been a fucking tragedy.”
“Can you tell me?”
“Sure. But only because I know you’ll keep your gob shut. She had cancer. Leukemia. Except she didn’t know. She put all her tiredness and other symptoms down to being constantly in the recording studio or on the road, and a shitty diet.” He swallowed. “Her manager was a real piece of work. Treated her like a commodity and not a human being.”
“But how did you know, that she was sick?”
“Gethin, she wasdying. I could smell the sickness coming off her when she shook my hand and posed for a photo with me. I didn’t know what to do. I was so sure she’d assume I was a crank. We didn’t get any alone time with her, obviously.”
“Spit it out, man!”
“There was an after party of sorts. All pretty tame, but it gave me time to swipe a notebook and write a long note to her. I literally begged her not to dismiss me as a crank, or to tell anyone in her management team — I could sense their disinterest in her as a person from across the room — but to meet me somewhere public, or at the very least call me. I stuffed the note into her hands and walked away.” The tension he’d been holding in his shoulders softened. “She called me the next day. She was puzzled because intense weirdo fans usually try to get closer, not put distance between them and their idols.”
