Which made sense because Roger’s mission for the night was to make a smooth transition back into the coven. He needed Seamus to like him. Zack couldn’t fault him for doing what needed to be done.
But every minute in Seamus’s presence only deepened the sense of wrongness Zack felt about him. Taking in the room around him wasn’t the easiest since he couldn’t risk accidentally making eye contact with a vampire, but he’d snuck glances. The vampires had laughed and smiled, only some of them didn’t have any glee to it. Candide had excused herself after a few minutes, claiming she had a business to run. White-collareddonors hung out near the walls, but most escaped from the room if no one called on them after ten minutes. Others alternated in.
No onestayedunless Seamus was holding court with them.
Roger was the center of that attention, with some of it splashing on Takashi. Seamus treated them to two additional donors apiece because he kept insisting that they try Candide’s newest blood. And the more Seamus fawned over Roger, the more Marcus glared at them.
Eventually, Roger nudged Zack and made to stand up. “I’m glad to be back in your company, Seamus, but dawn is coming.”
“I suppose I should let you go,” Seamus murmured sadly. “Promise you’ll be at my Halloween party.”
“At Devil’s Cove?” Roger asked.
“As always.”
“We’ll be there,” Roger replied.
The relief that he, Kit, Carver, and Takashi were on their feet and their group was about to leave dropped into a cold flip-flop in Zack’s stomach. Devil’s Cove was Seamus’s private club, where only the vampires he liked were allowed. The second floor of Chateau de Vampire was rumored to be the less extreme version of that club.
“The theme this year is deities,” Seamus said.
“How wonderful,” Roger said smoothly. “I can’t wait to attend.”
Just as Roger was about to finally stand, Seamus grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. Zack took an instinctive step forward, but Takashi caught him around the waist.
Sharing Roger wasn’t supposed to meanSeamus. But this wasn’t sharing, not really. This was another test.The tests will never be over.
The kiss was over in an instant. Seamus slid his gaze past Roger and met Zack’s.
And Zack didn’t look away. He should. He could feel the heat in his glare, and he was aiming it at Seamus.
“Your pet hunter certainly has spirit,” Seamus murmured in Roger’s ear, but Zack was close enough to hear. The chatter in the room was nearly nothing. With a downright evil grin, he continued. “Remind him what happens to disobedient vermin. I’d hate for you to lose such a pretty one so soon.”
“Yes, master,” Roger whispered. When he turned, his lighthearted demeanor shifted to a stern frown. He grabbed Zack by the arm and began to drag him from the room.
But Zack caught Seamus’s expression. The bastard was damn near laughing.He doesn’t think we’re a threat. He doesn’t give a shit about us.
By the time they reached the limo, Zack was ready to lay into Roger about the rough treatment.
Then he saw the terror peeking through the cracks of Roger’s stern mask. The others must have picked up on it as well because the five of them silently climbed into the limo. Where the ride out had been anxious but joyful, the ride back to the hotel was deathly quiet. Breaking the silence felt sacrilegious, so Zack tucked himself against a window and watched the city creep back into view.
Zack had always pictured the streets of Chicago having bumper-to-bumper traffic no matter the hour. However, the streets were practically empty, and it took half the time to drive back than it had to make their way out.
Immediately, Zack went to the master bedroom while Kit and Carver split off to the bedroom they were sharing. Zack figured that Roger would be on his heels, but he headed for the balcony while Takashi took a seat on the couch and took out his phone.
Dawn was over an hour away. Zack couldn’t blame Roger for wanting space, so instead of following him, he took off his collar, dropped it on the dresser, and then continued into theirbathroom to wash off his makeup. He changed into a flannel pajama set and took his journal out from its hiding place under the bed. After writing his entry for the night, he added more data to his notebook.
There was a hint of gray in the sky. Roger wouldn’t burn in sunlight—at least he wouldn’t right away. Zack had seen him survive a few sparse minutes in daylight when he’d been thirty years starved of blood. And sometimes Roger stayed up a little past dawn while Zack went to sleep well before that.
But the bees and slithering worms that had crowded Zack’s stomach while they were in Seamus’s presence hadn’t left.
Zack padded out to the living room. Takashi had a battered copy of an older HT Moss book in his hands. The author was the same one who wrote Zack’s favorite book series,From the Grave.
Zack folded his arms over his chest, holding himself, and made his way across the room to look out the sliding glass door. Well, he tried. The light inside made it hard to see past the glass into the darkness. The gray hadn’t really lightened the sky enough.
After a moment, Takashi put a bookmark in the novel and set it aside. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Zack said with a frown as he glanced Takashi’s way. Then, the night played back for him. “Oh. That. That’s not your fault.”
