Gethin swallowed. Something else he’d not considered. He acknowledged Edwin’s words with a jerk of his chin. “Noted, thanks. I’ll see you back downstairs in a bit?”
Edwin nodded. “I’ll be there. I’ll stick around afterwards in case you look like you’re going to be trouble.” He paused. “Somehow I don’t think you will be though.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later,Gethin found Dalziel in his office.
“You are ready?” Gethin nodded. Dalziel got to his feet. “I have a room prepared. Let me send a quick text and we will go.” He gave Gethin a studied look. “Your heartbeat is very steady. You aren’t nervous at all, are you? I’m only going to ask this once more, or I could run the risk of insulting your intelligence, but are you absolutely certain you want to do this now? You’ve done your research, but we are moving quickly.”
Gethin felt his pulse jump at the question, but he ran a hand over his newly-trimmed facial hair as he replied, “Sorley is mine. Staying with him forever is something I can’t pass up the chance to do.” He inhaled, then breathed out slowly, before meeting Dalziel’s eyes steadily. “I wouldn’t change my mind if you made me wait a year,tenyears, but Sorley needs a grand gesture. He’s desperately insecure, for all his brilliant mind and sarcastic mouth. He’s also scathing about bonds and mates. I think he wants to believe but he’s not quite there. I’m doing this for me, but also for him.” With just the tiniest crack in his tone, he added, “I’m bricking it really, but I have a very good poker face.”
Dalziel’s eyebrows shot up. “And you can exert your will over your physical tells? That’s impressive. I do wonder what kind of vampire you will be. An interesting one, no doubt.” He paused. “I hear and acknowledge your reasoning behind doing this now.” He checked his phone and nodded decisively. “Everyone has responded. Let us go.”
The room was like all of those Gethin had seen on the ground floor, heavily curtained, with antique lamps and rich furnishings creating a cosy ambience. This had been some kind of reading room, perhaps, or whatever activities seventeenth or eighteenth century nobility amused themselves with. Gethin had no idea. It was a smallish room with several high-backed armchairs and a chaise longue, all arranged around a pretty fireplace.
Dalziel indicated the chaise longue. “For your optimal comfort,” he said, no hint of sarcasm apparent in his tone.
The door opened. Alec and Sorley appeared, closely followed by a practically bouncing Charley.
“Hey, Gethin,” Charley said, his sapphire eyes glittering excitedly. “Dad thought I could help Sorley and feed at the same time. Y’know, seeing as I’m quite partial to wolfy things and you don’t smell gross to me even though you’re kinda old. I guess that’s ’cause of Luc, what with him being a shifter like you, and—”
“Charley!” Somehow Dalziel managed to shout without raising his voice.
Charley gulped and swallowed. “Sorry,” he said in a much more subdued tone. “But it’s exciting. I feel, like, properly useful for once.” He bit his lip as he glanced at Gethin from under his sooty lashes. “Didn’t mean to be offensive.”
Gethin’s lips twitched. Charley was impossible to dislike, even with his runaway mouth. “I won’t lie. ‘Kinda old’ feels like an insult, but you’re such a dot of a thing yourself, I can’t muster up much offence. I’m honoured you want to help out. Seems like we’ve got a nice balance of favours going for us.”
Charley blinked at him for a second, before Gethin saw the lights come on. “Oh! Back in Cardiff, right? When you sorted out my money for me.” He shuddered. “God, that wassoembarrassing though. I felt likesucha teenager.”
Gethin tried hard but couldn’t fight off his smile. The kid was too precious. Dalziel, his own smile wide and fond, merely murmured, “Of course, because now you’re an old man of nineteen and eleven months.” To Gethin he said, “I do apologise for my rambunctious offspring, but he really doesn’t have the aversion to shifters that seem to be inbuilt with most of us. I can remove him if you prefer.”
“He’s fine. More than fine,” he amended hastily as he felt Charley’s mood droop. “The more, the merrier, yeah?”
Sorley growled. “Not exactly,” he sniffed, pushing between Charley and Dalziel to stand so close to Gethin he could almost feel him vibrating. “It’s only because I haven’t fed from you before that Alec suggested your blood might make me a bit high. Having someone else here willing to help means, well…” He floundered, and grabbed at Gethin’s arms, tugging until there wasn’t a breath between them. His face pressed against Gethin’s shoulder, Sorley continued, “Are you really sure?”
Gethin held Sorley tightly. “Absolutely sure,” he assured him with a deep, hard kiss. “Now, let me sit down, because I have it on good authority that I might get a touch wobbly.” Now he checked in with his body, his knees felt decidedly uncertain. He sank to the chaise, pulling Sorley with him, and inhaled and exhaled a few times. When he looked up, it was to see Edwin had also arrived, and was watching him with an apprehensive expression. He forced a smile he didn’t quite feel.
“Shall we get on with this? We’ve got bad guys to catch, and I can’t do it from here.” He squeezed Sorley’s hand in his, lowering his voice — although why he bothered with a room full of vampires he didn’t know — and faced him, his eyes steady on Sorley’s as he said,
“I, Gethin Hughes, love you, Sorley Hetheridge-Parker, with everything I have and am. Until the last beat of my shifter heart, and after that from the first heartbeat of my new life until the end of time.” He paused. “And beyond.”
Without waiting for a reply, because he didn’t want to put Sorley in an awkward position, he choked out to Dalziel, “Let’s do this.”
34
SORLEY
Sorley couldn’t have formedwords if his undead life depended on it. Physically unable to weep and not needing to breathe, he nonetheless felt as if his lungs would burst and his eyes were prickling under the weight of unshed tears. He slithered off the chaise longue and landed in an ungainly way at Gethin’s feet, causing Alec to drop down next to him with a look of concern.
“Are you well, my friend? Do we need to wait?” His eyes widened. “Dear God, please do not tell me you are experiencing a relapse from your indisposition caused by our rogue assailant?” He shuddered so dramatically, Sorley nearly giggled. He shook his head violently, still not trusting himself to speak.
“Bloody hell, you two are so damn theatrical,” Edwin scoffed. “Alec, move your arse out of the way. Sorley’s fine. He’s reeling from being told he’s worthy of love, the dolt.” He hauled Sorley to his feet and cursed. “Jesus, the state of you. You’re actually proper shocked, aren’t you? Bloody fool. You could see from the moon the wolf’s in it for the long haul.” He gestured behind him. “Someone fetch our fainting goat a chair, for fuck’s sake. Gethin, get comfortable, mate. This will take a while.” He shoved Sorley none too gently into the chair that materialised behind him, and stepped back.
Dalziel urged Gethin to put his feet up and roll up the sleeves of his jersey top. He urged Sorley to move his chair alongside the chaise instead of at right angles, then positioned Charley on Gethin’s other side.
“You will feel sleepy as the blood loss begins to affect you,” his soft Scots accent drawled, cutting off any residual amusement Sorley felt about his friends and their teasing. “That’s normal, don’t fight it. I will be watching you carefully and listening to your heartbeat. When I deem it the right moment, you will need to drink my blood for the change to work. You will be drowsy, possibly even confused. Listen only to my voice and you will be fine.”
Gethin nodded, his jaw tense. Sorley glanced up at Dalziel. “I didn’t get a pretty speech.”
