After a silent staring contest between Zack and Blake went on for a minute, Kit grabbed their bottle of water and took a long drink. As they screwed the cap back on, they nudged Zack and Blake both. “Y’all are wrecking a beautiful afternoon and making me anxious about tonight. The world sucks. The best we can do is be kind. Let’s move on.”
“You want to just ‘move on’ from the fact that humans don’t matter?” Zack demanded.
“I don’t want to obsess over it constantly,” Kit snapped. “Is there anything wrong with taking a break and enjoying ourselves?”
Before Zack could answer, Blake piped up. “Nope. And I have the perfect idea.”
“What?” Zack said.
Blake tapped Kit in the face with her pillow, and they whacked her with theirs in return. Lifting an eyebrow, Blake raised her pillow again and made a swipe at Zack. He leaned out of the way, and then Kit was swinging theirs at him.
A pillow fight was a ludicrous idea. But it was a better way to blow off steam than going through the same mental circles he’d been making. Zack scrambled to his feet and grabbed a cushion from the couch no one was sitting on. Wielding that as a shield and his pillow as his weapon, he said, “I’ve got two siblings and ten cousins. Bring it.”
Mentioning his family, even offhanded, threatened to bring the anguish of their disownment to the surface, but Kit was swinging for his head, and there was no time to get caught in sadness. Zack pushed past the mental block and dived into the mock battle. He was with friends, and they were smiling and laughing, and he could do that too. Between the sunshine and the joy of catching them off guard and stepping around the mess they’d made with their lunch, he had no space for the dread that plagued him.
Mid-fight, he chucked his pillow at Kit’s head. They dodged, and the pillow sailed over the balcony edge. All three of them hurried to the railing to watch it tumble to the ground forty floors below.
“Do you think they’ll know where it came from?” Blake asked.
“I’m more worried it’ll hurt someone,” Zack muttered.
“It’s a pillow,” Kit replied. “How much damage could it do?”
“Has it hit? I lost track of it,” Zack said.
Blake squinted. “I can’t tell.”
Kit rested their head on top of their hands on top of the railing. “Yup. Landed in the middle of the street. Doesn’t seem to be screwing with the traffic.”
“Ah, there it is!” Blake said. “Still getting used to super vision.”
“What are we watching?” Carver asked.
All three of them jumped, though Zack was the first to spin around and face the hotel suite. Carver sauntered out onto the balcony and into the sunlight. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses, sweatpants, and a matching zip-up sweatshirt that he hadn’t zipped. In one hand, he had a glass of water while the other he kept in his pocket. Though he seemed to be going for casual indifference, Zack spotted the tension in his lips and the way he held his shoulders.
Bits of the drunken night were playing over for him. Zack had been so wrapped up in his anger he’d ignored how Carver had ordered him shots based on insightful questions about what he’d liked. He’d been cruel when Roger was taking him out of the room just because he could.
Zack stepped away from the railing and toward Carver. This next step wouldn’t be easy, but he’d been the asshole. He sucked in a deep breath. “Carver, I?—”
Carver had closed a good distance. And when he came to a stop, he threw his glass of water in Zack’s face. Kit and Blake gasped.
Cold water splashed all over his front, and Zack took his sleeve and wiped as much as he could off his face. “Yep. Deserved that. Uh, can you guys give Carver and I a minute?”
“Yup,” Kit said and grabbed as much of the trash as they could.
Blake grabbed the rest and followed Kit. She whispered, “What did I miss?”
“I’ll fill you in on what I know,” Kit replied quietly.
Will they be able to hear us through the door?Zack cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for what I said last night. I was drunk, and that’s a really bad excuse. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
Carver took another step forward so they were less than two inches apart. He took off his sunglasses and glared down at Zack. With his broad shoulders and extra three inches, Zack wasn’t sure if he was intimidated or slightly aroused by Carver’s proximity. Carver growled, “If last night had been the first time you were a jackass, I’d write it off, but something tells me that’s your true colors. Which is a fucking shame.”
“Wait, what?” Zack said.
Carver used his sunglasses to accentuate his point by poking the end into Zack’s chest as he talked. “You’ve been walking around Taliville with this chip on your shoulder, which I thought was because you’re the head pet of a powerful vamp. Then I find out that you’ve got Roger wrapped around your finger and you’re boyfriends. I’m okay with that. Vamps can get weird, so of course he’s going to tell everyone his mortal boyfriend is his head pet. Makes sense.”
“Roger said we’re boyfriends?” Zack asked. His head was spinning, and he couldn’t blame the hangover.
