“You’re worried that you can’t change them,” Takashi said.
“Of course I can’t. For better or worse, we’re killers.” Roger took a long sip of his drink. “And drinking that boy dry tonight was … I wish I felt greater shame for it. If any part of me was still mortal, I might. But that final moment is intoxicating. How do you handle it?”
“It?” Takashi relaxed against the bar.
He was putting on a front. Roger was sure of it. With a roll of his eyes, he said, “You know what I mean.”
“The draw to kill?” Takashi swished his whiskey back and forth. “Mostly, I lure racists and bigots into a place of my choosing. The internet’s made stalking them so much easier.”
“Killing those you find wicked,” Roger said.
Takashi finished his drink and then stood. “I’m doing humanity and the world a favor.”
Slowly, Roger crossed the room back over to him. He stroked Takashi’s cheek. “I remember when we met. Your mortal self clung to you. Wide-eyed. Beautiful.”
Takashi straightened. “There is nothing wrong with having a little morality.”
“There isn’t. But until you and Zack, I have been pretending mine was adaptable.” Roger pressed his forehead against Takashi. “I had to. You understand that, don’t you?”
Takashi put his hands on Roger’s shoulders and whispered, “I do.”
“I am rediscovering those lines I won’t cross, but I’m going to be shit at keeping the bastards in order if I don’t truly understand what I will and won’t allow. How will I even punish those who disobey me? I don’t want to kill them, Takashi. I don’t want any more blood on my hands than I need to have. But what else is there?” Roger sighed and moved away. He poured himself another drink. “I promised you and Zack that we would claim the coven on New Year’s, and we will. But I need the time before then to figure everything out. That way, I’m not leaping into this thing without any idea of my goals.”
“You won’t be doing this alone.”
“I know.” Roger kissed Takashi’s cheek.
Takashi stepped in close so that they were chest to chest and drew him into a gentle embrace.
“Are you all right?” Roger stroked Takashi’s back in a long, soothing movement. “I realized I haven’t asked.”
“I’ve seen far worse.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“I only need a bit of time to process what I saw.”
“Seamus and Anton can be … a lot.”
“They’re exactly the sort of creatures I thought they were, but you surprised me. I could feel the power on that stage.” Takashi moved back just enough to be able to look Roger in the eye. “You pushed through a hunter’s tattoo. I didn’t think that was possible.”
“The things aren’t impervious.”
“To the common vampire, theyare.” Takashi ran his fingers through Roger’s hair and lightly played with the end of a lock when he reached it. “You have no idea how powerful you are, do you?”
“I’ve had the benefit of studying one up close. That’s all.”
Takashi shook his head. “No, Roger. You have this untapped potential. I can see it in you, waiting to step into the spotlight. Embrace that power. We need it.”
“I will,” Roger murmured. He kissed Takashi. Then he picked up the bottle of whiskey. “Now, I intend to perfect my brooding vampire face out on the balcony. You’re welcome to join me in silent contemplation of how the last several centuries have had a pain I refused to recognize.”
“Roger—”
“I will be fine,” Roger said with a half-hearted grin. “But I think, for a change, I need to sit and mull things over. Perhaps start a journal or something.”
“You don’t have a journal,” Takashi said.
“Well, maybe I’ll go down to the gift shop and buy one or something.”
