“You know what? Forget it.”
As Zack started to turn away, Roger caught him around the waist and made him return to face him. Zack was in his arms. Though the sounds and scents of the other room had begun to calm, Roger was still floating in that place between lustful need and forgoing pleasure. He longed to sink into Zack’s depths,but that wasn’t for him alone to decide. And Zack, well, he was prickling even as Roger held him close.
“I am not going to ‘forget it,’” Roger murmured. The quiet tone of his voice caused Zack to settle against him. He brushed a strand of Zack’s hair back before tracing his hand down the length of his back. “That’s the second time recently that you’ve doubted your place with me.”
“More than the second,” Zack grumbled. His gaze remained firmly on Roger’s lips. “We’ve been here a week, and you haven’t said anything about your plans.”
“Because I am still making them.”
“Roger.” Zack wriggled out of his embrace. “I’ve been watching you kiss Seamus’s ass and come home exhausted every night. You keep drinking from anyone Seamus puts in front of you, including the victims of the gray band mind control. What’s your plan? Like him to death?”
“We haven’t caught sight nor heard of what Anton is doing,” Roger replied.
“Fine. We don’t know where the big bad vampire warlock is. But what about what you plan to do as the coven leader?” Zack demanded. He motioned to himself. “Do all humans have to be pets? Is there some place at your side for me? Or will I have to keep wearing your damn collar and pretending my life doesn’t fucking matter?”
“Youmatter,” Roger growled.
“Not according to anyone but you.” Zack blinked. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, but they weren’t spilling just yet.
“To Takashi, Blake, Kit, and Carver as well,” Roger replied. “And easily a dozen others in Taliville.”
“This isn’t Taliville!” Zack shoved his hands through his hair and stalked away to the curtain-covered window. With his back to Roger, he quickly wiped his eyes.
Roger didn’t have to rely on his powers to sense Zack’s deepest desire. Since their meeting, that part of Zack remained unchanged. He longed to do the right thing. He believed in making a difference. In order for him to matter to the world, he would struggle to make it better than how he found it. Zack’s family may have narrowed their focus to destroying supernaturals, but Zack held to the foundational principle. He would fight cruel and vicious beings with every fiber of his soul.
Vincent’s video had exposed Zack to the worst side of the coven’s underbelly, but wasn’t that the nature of the beast Seamus continued to feed? Roger had witnessed pets tear each other down, mock and belittle one another, and worse—all in order to appease their vampiric masters. When Roger was young, he’d even encouraged it. Having others fight over him had been a thrill.
These nights, however, he found such bullshit distasteful. Love was better than rampant jealousy. Peace greater than any entertainment. And though he had been sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting for the moment Seamus might lose his temper, he had forgotten that those under Seamus could be just as cruel. Monstrosity wasn’t limited to vampires. Callum Wright was plain evidence of that.
Slowly, Roger neared Zack. He put his hands on his shoulders. When Zack didn’t pull away, he wrapped his arms around him and held him close. He rested his chin on Zack’s shoulder. “I would find a place for you at my side. Not as a pet, but … but there will be humans and shifters that would seek asylum from their abusive masters. They would need someone. I would be too intimidating. But you might not be.”
“You want me to shepherd the broken,” Zack said.
“I want you to find ahome. Preferably one with me in it,” Roger replied. “If you want no responsibilities, we could makethat happen. Short of giving you the throne itself, I’d give you whatever power you want.”
“Wouldn’t I have to be a vampire for some of that?”
Roger was glad he didn’t have to breathe, otherwise his lungs might have stopped. He had only shortly considered turning Zack, for the briefest flash of a moment while he was on the operating table. But Zack was a monster hunter. What would he have thought if he woke as a vampire?
Gently, Roger eased his way around to face Zack. He searched Zack’s feelings, but they were closed off behind the shield of his mind and fortified by the magic of his hunter’s tattoo. Likewise, Zack had donned a careful, blank expression.
“Is that something you want?” Roger asked.
“No.” A glint of steel hardened Zack’s eyes. “Never.”
That affirmation hadn’t been a surprise, but to hear it uttered tilted something in Roger’s soul or whatever passed for one. Zack was mortal, that was obvious, but Zack wasmortal. He would age. Eventually die. He would never be the same as he was in this moment, and though Roger had the chance to see him through decades upon decades, there would be a timewithout him.
But he could never force vampirism on another. All the times he’d made sirelings had already failed horribly, and each of them hadwantedto become an immortal. All his fledglings hated him, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to withstand the amazing man in front of him turning on him like the others had.
Roger cupped Zack’s cheek and met his gaze. “All right then. I won’t ask the question again, but if you change your mind?—”
“Iwon’t,” Zack insisted.
Of course he wouldn’t. This was Zackery Wright that Roger had in his arms, and though he may doubt what he was becoming and his function in the world, he’d always known what he wanted.
“You always have a place with me,” Roger murmured. He pressed his forehead against Zack’s and caressed his back.
“We have to get going.”
