“Christ, don’t be such a bully!” Sorley snapped. “He’s been used as a vending machine for fuck knows how long by some absolute cunt and you’re scaring him even more?” He elbowed Edwin aside, fuming, and cupped the kid’s cheek in his hand, forcing his eyes up.
“What’s your name, pet?”
“James.” It came out as a croak.
“All right, James. Tell us why you came here.” He didn’t exert much thrall, just a hint in case the boy had been told to lie.
But James didn’t seem coerced as he said in a monotone, “I have a message for Sorley.” His gaze swept around the five of them questioningly.
“Of course,” Gethin interjected. “He was thralled when you fed from him, wasn’t he? He has no idea he’s met two of us before.”
Sorley nodded. “I wasn’t sure you’d recognised him.”
Gethin looked a bit shifty. “Not his looks. His scent.” He seemed slightly embarrassed, but Sorley didn’t have time to ponder it. He fixed his attention firmly on the boy.
“James, I’m Sorley. What’s your message?”
More slow blinks. Then, as if he was counting, in the same careful way he said, “He’s running out of patience. He’s been waiting for you. You know where to go.” He keened, slumping forwards. Alec caught him before he fell off the stool onto the floor.
“He is sick,” he announced, rather unnecessarily in Sorley’s opinion. “He needs iron-rich food. And liquids, I presume.” He glared at them all. “How do we feed a human to make their blood better? I do not know. I am far too careful to use one of them this way.” He sounded disgusted. Sorley spared his soft-hearted friend a warm smile. Alec might theoretically be twice as strong a vampire as Dalziel but he lacked any kind of killer instinct unless his own life or that of a close friend was threatened. He truly was a softy.
Edwin was no such thing. He clapped Alec on the back and shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about iron. Kid’s young. They bounce back. Tea and toast, then see how it looks after a shower and a kip.”
Gethin growled at Edwin. “Bacon and eggs, and toast, and orange juice and maybe a cup of tea,” he snarled. “And James is ahe,not an it. Fuck’s sake, Marsh. You really are an insensitive prick at times.”
Gethin shooed everyone except Sorley away and together they helped the boy into the kitchen. Settling him on a chair, Gethin removed the handcuffs and put the kid in the leg restraints instead, apologising, but explaining that security was his remit and he took his job very seriously. Sorley had an uncomfortable flashback to being held prisoner, chained up in the cage at Gethin’s Cardiff house, but he snapped out of it quickly when requested to pour a glass of orange juice for James.
“Good thing one of us eats food,” he remarked, then frowned when Gethin shot him an amused grin. “What?”
“One of the true blessings of the modern age is food delivery apps. Even burger places sell orange juice, milk, etcetera. I don’t think another half hour would be a major issue here, do you?” He pulled a packet of bacon from the fridge, then expertly cracked eggs into a bowl and began whisking.
“James, d’you like baked beans? Mushrooms? Tomatoes?”
The kid’s head jerked up. “Umm…”
“It’s not a trick question,” Sorley assured him, guilt still nibbling at him. “Tell Gethin what you like and he’ll cook it for you.” He pushed the glass of juice across the counter. “You look, what’s the word? Malnourished, that’s it. Drink this. You can have some more in a bit.”
James took a hesitant sip of the drink. “I’m a vegetarian. I don’t like mushrooms,” he whispered.
“But everything else?” Gethin persisted. James nodded, then brought the glass to his mouth again. The bacon went back in the fridge.
He emptied the glass slowly, his eyes drooping as if too weary to remain alert. Sorley toasted bread, then buttered and halved it, feeling very domestic to be aiding Gethin in this way. They were simple chores and he doubted he was really needed, but it felt good to do something.
James snapped back to attention when Gethin put a plate in front of him, needing little persuasion to tuck in. Sorley, feeling it could be insensitive to open a blood bag in front of the kid, made tea for him and Gethin, pulling a ‘roll with it’ face when Gethin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He made a third mug for James, adding milk even as he recoiled a little from the liquid, as if by looking at it, it could somehow make him ill. He handed the mug to James and hunted through Gethin’s box of tricks, finding a sugar packet of the kind given away in motorway service stations.
James, eating slowly but methodically, gave him an upward tilt of his lips that bordered on a smile, and stirred the sugar into his tea. “Thank you.”
Gethin took a slug of his unadulterated tea, then stared at it, looking surprised. “That’s…not awful.”
Sorley chuckled. “Your body doesn’t need it, but it makes a change.” He looked at James. “We’re going to make some assumptions here, and I’d like you to respond. Okay?” James’ eyes darted to his plate before refocusing on Sorley, who smiled at him. “You don’t have to stop eating.”
Gethin said, “Unless you’re full. In which case please do. You don’t have to clear your plate.” He chuckled. “Mind you, my kids are wolves so nobody ever left a scrap. Greedy little buggers that they were.”
James’ eyes blew wide. “I…I thought you were a vampire,” he breathed. Then he looked horrified. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”
Sorley snorted. The kid was naïve if he thought he was leaving without having his memory thoroughly wiped. “Don’t worry, no one is saying you will. But keep on Gethin’s good side. He’s a vampireanda wolf. Walking, talking big bad nightmare. Good thing he can cook, right?”
There was an electrified silence. Then James gulped. “You shouldn’t tease me. I’m not sure I can handle a wolf. Vamps are bad enough.”
