I discovered James passed out cold on the sofa. His bowl of indeterminate gloop was mostly empty, the fork fallen to the carpet. I extracted the bowl from his grasp and placed both in the sink for later. Then, I scooped him up and carried him through to his bedroom, laying him on the bed and tucking his ancient quilt over him. He still didn’t stir, apart from resisting my attempt to remove the hood of his hoodie — I worried he would suffocate under so many layers. Poor guy was probably worn out from the kidnapping and abuse he’d suffered at the hands of one of our own, a piece of filth who until his removal from the planet fewer than twenty-four hours previously had been known as Connor Cormack. Cormack, the weaselly piece of excrement, had not only kidnapped James, but had half drained him of bloodand,worst of all, forced himself on him sexually. A lot. It didn’t bear thinking about. I had taken way more pleasurethan I should have in staking the fucker, although I’d mostly done it to save Sorley the job.
James was a plucky little sod. I’d been a bit mean to him when we first met, but I’ve never had much patience and I mistook him for a wimp. Turned out he was a lot more ballsy than I’d initially thought, with a core of fire that thankfully Cormack hadn’t fully extinguished.
I poked around the flat. I found and flattened a couple of cardboard boxes, then took a cheap throw that had been covering a dubious stain on the couch, and arranged them all behind and over the blinds at James’ bedroom window. I’d wedge the door closed while we slept, and remind him to check before opening it if he needed to piss. I didn’t really want to rest in a place with so many risky ways to get burned, but I wanted to get home quickly, plus James had a right to pack his stuff and tidy up any loose ends.
Satisfied I wasn’t in imminent danger from any wayward sunbeams, I sat and used my phone while he slept, checking in with my sister-in-blood and fellow Londoner, Baxter. A barrage of texts illustrated her delight at being released from babysitting duties on the Yorkshire coast. She’d been stuck keeping a close eye on Sorley’s bestie, another vamp called Melody Mason, who’d been one of the UK’s most prolific singer-songwriters, until she’d all but disappeared from public life after her vampire rebirth in 1990.
Baxter had been pining for the city in Melody’s not-at-all-miserable country home, but she’d be home soon. She really wasn’t suited to rural life, although truthfully, neither was I. London was in our blood.
Noise from one of the other bedrooms prompted my goodbye to Baxter. I listened to the sounds of at least two people waking up and beginning their daily routine. I pulled on my clothes and went to investigate.
A tall, brown-skinned man was making tea in the kitchen. He was wearing a cheap suit which did little to detract from his good looks. At my appearance, he did a double take, then gave me a curt nod and held out a mug.
“Cuppa?”
I shook my head. “No, thanks. D’you think James would like one?”
He eyed me thoughtfully, then dropped a teabag in the mug. “Probably. He runs on tea.” He gestured behind him. “You, uh, don’t know anything about this, do you? It wasn’t like this when I went to bed last night.”
I shrugged. “Sorry about dumping the bowl. James fell asleep and I didn’t want to leave him alone.”
“The bowl? Don’t give it a thought. I meant thekitchen.It doesn’t look like this even before we have an inspection.”
“Oh, right.” I feigned ignorance with another shrug. “I’m just here with James. He’s leaving town.”
He gave me a proper up and down then. Finally, he nodded. “Leaving with you, I presume?”
“Yes, with me.”
He sloshed milk into the mug, stirred, fished the teabag out. Added a spoon of sugar and pushed the mug towards me. “I did wonder where he’d been recently. Always thought he might like cock. Be good to him, all right?”
“I will guard him with my life,” I assured him. He gulped at that, so maybe I’d overdone it, but after a moment he smiled and said, “Ahmed,” and held out his hand.
“Ed.” I don’t use my real name too often as it’s uncommon and tends to stick in people’s minds.
Kudos to Ahmed, he didn’t flinch at my cold grasp. “I’ll let Manny know we’ll be needing a new tenant,” he murmured. “When is James going?”
“Tonight.”
“What?” It wasn’t quite a screech, but his expression told me finances were probably top of his concerns.
I sighed. “I’ll cover any outstanding rent for the month, so calm your tits.” I glanced in the direction of the door to the rest of the place. “Might be an idea to attack the bathroom before advertising for a new roommate. It’s?—”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure we do.” He scrubbed at the back of his neck and flushed, an incredibly attractive look over his dark cheekbones, so I decided not to push.
“Are you all going to be out all day?” I asked him next.
He smirked, no doubt assuming I had horizontal plans for James. “Me and Manny, definitely. We’ve both got work. Daz? Who knows?”
“I met Daz,” I informed him. “Somehow this doesn’t surprise me.”
Ahmed shot me a look of understanding. “My turn in the bathroom now,” he said. “Nice to meet you, man.”
Manny, a shade darker than Daz’s spotty pallor, was cautiously friendly and had a cute accent I thought might be Spanish. He’d been warned about me in a brief exchange of words in the hallway he had no way of knowing I’d overheard. He offered me toast, which I refused, then nodded amiably when I excused myself, having almost forgotten about the mug of tea in my hands.
I shook James carefully, giving him space as he woke up. He grunted, then peeked out from the nest he’d made under the blankets, smoothing down his wild mop of hair before he emerged completely. He noticed the drink and his eyes lit up.
“You made me a tea?” His slight monotone was thick with sleep as he struggled to sit up.
