“A package,” another voice said. One of the servants, Roger believed. “I didn’t want to disturb your master with it.”
“Good call. I’ve got it from here,” Zack replied.
Simply hearing Zack’s voice eased the fear raking deeper grooves into Roger’s mind. As much as Dmitri wanted Seamus and Anton dead, as much as Nell was providing support, and as friendly as Josefina had been, Zack was the one who trulychoseto be at Roger’s side. There was no wondering if he might’ve betrayed him decades ago.
Roger trusted him, and that was a rare beauty he hadn’t felt …if I’m being honest, in my entire life. Not like this.Knowing Zack was on his way back to their room, Roger opened his eyes and picked up the notebooks strewn across the bed. He organized them on the desk where Zack had left them.
Everything else in the room was in its place. Their queen-sized bed was made, the connecting bathroom clean. There was no window, so there were no curtains to push aside to reveal the night. As they were leaving for Chicago the night after next, the bulk of their possessions were in the newly obtained luggage Roger had purchased.
Nearly all their possessions were new. Roger had woken with only a single outfit and little in his wallet. Through a generous loan from Nell, Roger would make his reentry into vampire society in a style appropriate to his position in the GLC. Zack had brought a week’s worth of clothes and a few things he considered essential from his mortal home, but none of what he had was what someone of his status could show in public.
Roger doubted there was anything in Zack’s wardrobe at his parents’ house that would have suited his station, but he would never know for certain. Zack’s parents had disowned him after he stood with Roger and against Callum. Even sneaking in wasout of the question—Zack believed that his family had “followed protocol” and changed the locks on their home.
Sensing Zack was nearing the room, Roger lounged on the bed, putting on an air of casual waiting. He didn’t want Zack to glimpse the panic clinging to the edges of his thoughts.
A moment later, Zack came through the door with a package under his arm.
Zackery Wright was a young man a week shy of twenty. An element of his youthfulness had melted away into an adult’s firmness. His gray eyes always had a quality of steel to them, and he was prone to frowning when he thought no one was looking his way. He had a lithe frame, shoulders only a touch broader than his waist. Though he wasn’t sculpted, he was muscular.
Over the last few weeks, his skin had paled since he was living more nocturnally. His light brown hair was cut to a popular fashion and had a few blond highlights. He had on a thin layer of makeup that was common among pets. A little foundation evened out his skin tone, a little blush made his mortality apparent, and a trace of eyeliner brought attention to his steely gaze. He wore jeans and a polo that were tailored to his body.
As soon as he shut the door behind him, he was reaching behind to unclasp the black collar on his neck. A small round metal disk hung from it. Etched into it was a kraken in the style of Roger’s vampire crest, and it marked Zack as belonging to him. Even if other vampires didn’t know Roger’s kraken, they would know that Zack was claimed. In Taliville, he might have been safe enough without it while interacting with the vampires and other supernaturals, but in Chicago, the collar would protect him.
Provided anyone still respects me enough to keep their hands off my “property.”Roger smothered his newest fear and smiled at Zack. “You look dashing tonight.”
“I look like an expensive-ass doll,” Zack complained.
His attitude was more sour than usual, but this wasn’t the first time he’d come back to their room with a grumble in his voice. Roger had never demanded the twenty-four-hour submission some masters wanted from their pets, and Zack would have never gone for it. However, his pets usually showed alittlemore deference than Zack did.
Then again, Roger was realizing he didn’t miss the way some of his pets would treat him like an immortal masterpiece. Zack was clever and compassionate, and more than Roger had dared hoped to discover when he’d first entreated him to stop fighting him, but he never ignored Roger’s flaws.
Because when they first met, Zack had been trying to kill him. He’d come to Taliville after reading an email detailing where a vampire could be found. Zack had followed through on the clues, discovered Roger’s coffin, and broken into it. He’d hesitated before driving a stake through Roger’s heart, and that momentary gap in judgment had given Roger the chance to bite him. Roger had been moving on instinct. He would have killed Zack if Zack hadn’t thought on his feet and used the tools at his disposal.
And Roger had seen an opportunity in Zack that he hadn’t had on his own. Zack had an enchanted silver dagger. Since Seamus was a vampire over a thousand years old, killing him could be tricky. Simply driving a wooden stake through his heart might not be enough. Though the stories were few, Roger had heard of vampires of great power surviving the apparent destruction of their bodies only to resurface again. Silver burned vampires, and Zack’s family had spent generations working out the runes they carved into each blade. Zack’s dagger would be key in taking down Seamus for good, Roger was sure of it.
At the very least, having a trained, brilliant hunter at his back had to up his chances of survival.
Before the end of their first night, Roger realized that he liked Zack, and as the weeks wore on, that like was only growing into something more each time he laid eyes on him.
But Zack’s appearance as his pet was only a costume, one that he was quick to toss to the side anytime they were alone. He practically threw the black leather collar onto the desk. When he glanced Roger’s way, he narrowed his eyes. Tension built in him, the kind that meant he was running through the data of what he saw and coming to conclusions.
That kind of scrutiny was a bit intense. Roger asked, “What’s wrong?”
At the same time, Zack said, “You okay?”
How does he always see through me?Roger dropped his gaze and examined his fingernails for a fleck of dirt. Finding none, he sighed and looked up again. Zack remained pensive. Avoiding him would only be exhausting, so Roger sighed and said, “I took a few bad twists down memory lane. I only need to clear my head. What’s causing your mood?”
“I spent the afternoon with Reed making content for the Fang app.” Zack ran his hand through his short hair, messing with the styling of it. “No one told me I’d have to be a social media influencer when I signed up.”
“To be fair, I didn’t know social media existed when I asked you to join me,” Roger replied.
Zack gave a noncommittal snort. “Yeah, well, if my family didn’t hate me before, they will once they see what I’m up to.”
“I thought the point of the Fang app was that only supernaturals used it.”
Zack shrugged, his disbelief clear in his gesture. “If I’d been a little less obsessed with the Hunters’ Information Network and physical books, I might have bothered to find a way in. And if I could have that thought, then someone else probably has.”
“That doesn’t mean your parents will see it,” Roger said. Part of him longed to ask what the problem would be if they did, but he knew. Zack’s family considered pets to be traitors to humanity. If the videos showed Zack enjoying his new life—which they would have to in order to maintain Roger’s image as a great master—then his parents wouldn’t approve.
