Anton had set up a little test and apparently liked the results so far.
Does immortality become so dull that everything has to be a jest with a razor’s edge?Takashi managed a small smile of his own. “I’m glad I’ve brought you some amusement, master.”
“Don’t call me that tonight. I’m trying to understand the common mortal mind.”
“Zack’s mind is anything but common,” Takashi replied, keeping his tone light despite how badly he wanted to rip Anton a new one for underestimating his boyfriend.
Anton’s smile grew. “True.”
Cautiously, Takashi stepped into the room. The rug had magic in it, but other than adding a freshening scent, it didn’t seem to hold an enchantment. He walked over to the fireplace and watched a few of its embers. The humans were close. The gray bands on their arms dulled out their emotions and kept them in a state primed for accepting orders. The bands broke the Pact of Chicago, yet they were still in use.
“Are you hungry?” Anton asked.
Reflexively, Takashi glanced toward the gray-banded humans. He hated how he hungered for their blood, but they were there. They were a kind of food.
“Not them. At least, not yet.” Anton pulled up the arm of his sweatshirt and held out his bare wrist. “I want to feel your fangs first.”
Blood was a powerful conduit. The night before, Anton had ripped through Takashi’s mental shields. Who knew what he might be capable of if they had a more direct connection?
Takashi put his hand on the mantle, adopting a neutral expression. Anton had already displayed that he had no trouble reading Takashi’s emotions, but he hoped to disguise his growing anxieties behind a mask of growing bloodlust.
He reached for that tiny core of power left within himself and extended his reach out to sense what he could of Anton.
For a creature who only seemed to do as he pleased, Anton had a fierce mental shield, but he wasn’t projecting any sort of desire. He was playing everything closer to his chest. Cracking it would take more energy than Takashi dared to expend if he wasn’t going to feed that night.Then I’ll have to rely on observation.
“Do you play these games because you’re bored or because you have more fun learning what you want to know?” Takashi asked.
Anton lowered his wrist to his lap. “Game?”
Takashi motioned at Anton’s attire. “How long have the tags been off those clothes? Or did you craft them into existence with your arcane abilities?”
Anton tensed and closed the journal. He narrowed his ruby eyes. “Perhaps you should leave the man behind the curtain alone.”
“You’re much more powerful than some charlatan leading with illusions.” Slowly, Takashi approached the other chair and sat down across from Anton. Stroking egos was a more delicate process than keeping his fangs from nicking a lover’s tender member. He relaxed into the seat and ran his gaze over Anton. “Why did you try to dress like Zack? Is this a ruse for my benefit? His? Seamus’s?”
Aflickerwent across Anton’s face when Takashi said Seamus. Just a fraction of a scowl.
We can’t help who we love. And he’s loved Seamus for so long.And Seamus was the definition of a manipulative bastard.
The way to survive this is to convince them I have value beyond being useful. Takashi slid to the edge of his seat and dipped his voice low. “Are you trying to understand him? Or be him?”
Anton set the journal aside and mirrored Takashi’s movement. “Why does it matter to you?”
“I won’t help you torture him,” Takashi replied. “But if you’re attempting to understand Seamus’s fascination with him, well, that I might be interested in myself.”
“I know what my lover wants of him,” Anton said with a low growl.
The laughter was gone. No hint of a jest in sight. Takashi let the slightest grin tug the corner of his lips. A false ego might push Anton into revealing his hand. “You don’t knowwhyhe wants what he wants, though, and that’s bothering you.”
“Are you arrogant enough to believe that I don’t know every inch of my lover?”
“I have traveled the world and known many of our kind. I’ve seen ancient lovers have difficulties.”
“You think I’m having relationship trouble?” Anton spat out. “We’ve been together for eight hundred and forty-nine years.”
Carefully, Takashi said, “I think that life would be far too dull if everything worked perfectly. You don’t seem one for tedium, not even with your lover.”
Anton rose from his seat and crossed over to the fireplace, taking the place where Takashi had stood. He watched the flames for a long moment without letting his psychic guard slip. The silence carried on so long that Takashi became aware of the hunger burning in his stomach again. The burn was turning into a soul-deep ache.
