I passed it over. “Ahmed made it,” I confessed, “but I do know how to make tea.”
The wry twist of his lips told me he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t comment. I sat down on the edge of the bed and explained I’d woken him in case he had daytime stuff to do I didn’t know about. As soon as his flatmates were gone, I intended to rest myself and I hoped he would be able to sleep some more.
He yawned around his drink. “Nothing I can’t do on my phone, so not that I can think of. I could probably sleep some more though. I’m out of sync with the world since C-C?—”
“Stop trying to say his name,” I protested. “You have nothing to prove.”
James glared at me. “C-C-Connor.” He exhaled heavily. “He’s d-dead. Sorley told me it meant his thrall over me would no longer work. I had to try, to spit that bastard’s name out, like I’d spit out a rotten piece of food.” He gave me a weak grin. “Or mushrooms.” He sighed, and the broken quality to it made something inside me clench. “I don’t ever want to say it again though. Once is enough.”
I leaned over to kiss his head, inhaling the not unpleasant heat of slightly sweaty, sleep-rumpled man. “Finish your tea. I’m going to persuade Daz to sling his hook for the day.” His eyes widened. “I won’t hurt him.”
“Not sure I’d mind if you did.”
At the door, I whistled. His head shot up. I said, with a grin that showed my fangs, “Don’t tempt me to be bad. It makes me hard.” I grabbed my crotch for emphasis, noting the way his pupils darkened and his breathing hitched. Laughing, I followed my nose to the door of the wretched Daz and rapped hard. “Open up, sunshine. Time for naughty boys to start the day.” Without waiting for an answer, I pushed inside. I wouldn’t hurt him physically, but there were ways to scare the shit out of a guy without laying a finger on him. My smile widened.
4
JAMES
“The hell is that?It looks like an old railway carriage.” It wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened to me this week, or even today, considering my companion’s thrall-laden approach to hitchhiking all the way from Leeds in the dead of night, but it was dark, I was travel-weary, and in need of a shower and some grub. I really didn’t want a detour to see some old heap of train nostalgia, even if the courtyard we were standing in front of was kind of cute in a low-brick-walls-and-flowerbeds kind of way.
Edwin made a hmmph sound, like he wasn’t happy I was dissing the place. “That’s my home. And it is an old railway carriage. The tenants I got rid of a few years back weren’t great at even basic DIY so she’s looking a bit sad right now. Don’t worry, it’s sound inside. Come on.” He hefted my suitcase — which had wheels, thank you very much, I’m not some old-school weirdo — as if it was made of feathers, and headed down the path to a low gate and an honest-to-God white picket fence that surrounded the carriage. I took another glance around, because I’d fallen asleep in the last car and only had Edwin’s word for it I was actually in London, picked up my assortment of carrier bags, and followed him.
Inside, it was in much better shape than the exterior suggested. Edwin locked the door behind me and indicated I should drop my bags in the corner by my case. He held up a finger for me to stay put, then strode down the narrow corridor that ran the full length of the carriage. He opened a door, shoved his bag inside, then returned to me, looking thoughtful.
“You’ll need food, won’t you? I’m not very good at humans apart from booze. And, what, tea? Do youreallyall still drink tea like it’s going out of fashion?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Bad enough I now knew vampires were a reality and not the fever dreams of sexually-repressed Mormons, but it was a Bad Idea, capital letters, to annoy one. I still wasn’t sure if I’d escaped one horrific situation only to put myself in the path of another speeding train. Ha, a very apt analogy considering my new home.
I said, quietly, because Edwin has ears like a fucking bat — no, vampires don’t change into them, sadly —, “I like tea, and yeah, I could eat.”
“But do you need to?” he insisted.
I nodded. “Please. Being hungry makes me cold and sleepy. And,” I added in a moment of inspiration, “I might not be able to feed you if I don’t eat properly.”
Edwin sighed. “Baxter said I’d be shit at this. I don’t want to prove her right. What do you need?”
I blinked at him. “For tonight? I dunno, anything.”
“No, James, not just tonight. You know I sleep during the day?” I nodded again. “Well, I presume you’ll need breakfast, lunch…and an evening meal too? That’s normal human behaviour, isn’t it? How come I don’t remember this stuff? I’m younger than anyone I know except that damned wolf.” He blew out a breath I knew he didn’t need — vampires don’t need to breatheat all —and gave me a determined look. “There’ssome shops around here somewhere. I don’t use them, but we’re bound to find some food if we look, right?”
“That would work. Even garages sell snacks,” I pointed out, trying to be helpful. Now I was here, I was keen to prove myself. Last thing I wanted was to piss him off so I ended up homeless in a place I didn’t know. My shared flat back in Leeds had been a shithole, but it was familiar, as was the area. London was not.
We ended up at a small independent supermarket which seemed expensive to me, but Edwin didn’t care. He was weirdly enthusiastic about adding items to a basket, although he did pull a face at blue-topped milk. But I like that creamy shit and it’s not like I’m bursting out of my clothes right now. We walked back together, him carting all the bags although I told him I wasn’t some weakling who needed help. He ushered me through to his kitchen, the second room along from the front door, telling me to put everything where it seemed the most logical. It was then I noticed a problem.
I forced my mind away from a few packets of what looked like blood at the back of his otherwise empty fridge, hoping he wasn’t going to be mad at me. He’d been friendly enough, seeming to regard me as some kind of new pet, which I suppose I was, but my first impression of him had been that he was a bit of a dick. I wasn’t yet sure enough to know how quickly his moods might change. Hell, I still wasn’t sure what had possessed me to sign up for this shadow/blood slave lark. I assumed temporary insanity after that C-C…No, it was no good, I could barelythinkhis name, even though I knew he no longer had any power over me. I’d call him the Fucker With No Name. The vampire who conned me into going home with him then took me prisoner and hurt?—
Yeah, not going there either. The human brain has an amazing ability to block out stuff it can’t deal with. I was a past master at that. The FWNN had probably added a few years’ worth of therapy I’d never be able to afford to my alreadybulging cupboard of rattling scary shit, but whatever, putting some distance between me and my home town had seemed like a plan. And, for some weird reason, Edwin seemed to like me. After that first hour when he’d been a twat, he’d somehow been the one I felt I could trust, even more than Sorley, although I liked him a lot too. I was glad he was free of the FWNN as well.
Anyway, enough about that. The kitchen problem remained. I chewed my lip, then decided I had to tell him.
“Um, Edwin?”
He was beside me in an instant, his brow furrowed. “Problem?” Jeez, was I ever going to get used to his awesome hearing and the way he could sneak up on me?
“You don’t seem to own any plates.” I paused. “Or bowls, or anything but teaspoons in the cutlery drawer. You, uh, don’t have a kettle.”
We stared at each other for a few beats. It’s fucking creepy how still vampires stand when they’re not pretending to be human. Then he laughed, rich and warm.
