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God, he loved this⁠—

What? No. No, no, no. Luke straightened, his heart threatening to hammer right out of his chest. He hadn’t meant to think that. Not at all. It was too soon. Too soon and too…ridiculous.

And it was definitely time to go.

He cleared his throat and stepped away from Syrus. “I’ll be back when I’m back.”

He took Colby’s hand and fled.

24

SYRUS

There was nothing inherently wrong with these vampire women. Not really.

True, to Syrus they smelled of old blood and faint rot barely masked by the scent of different flowers, but they weren’t entirely offensive in their natures. They’d brought Luke sustenance and rightly praised Colby for being a perfect specimen, and Syrus couldn’t justly begrudge them either of those things.

But begrudge them he did.

Because these women had arrived, and Luke had immediately taken the opportunity to flee without Syrus, claiming the distance he so clearly desired.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Distance at this juncture of the mating dance left them both unsettled, and moreover, Syrus didn’t understand why Luke needed it.

It all raised too many questions.

How long would Luke be gone? Where would he go while he pondered Syrus’s fate? Syrus didn’t like not knowing. There was a pull at his center, an inner insistence that a core piece was missing. And he had no sense of how much time it would take Luke to adjust to their new reality. Syrus didn’t want it to take any time. Patience had its place, perhaps, but Syrus tired of it.

Maybe Syrus hadn’t explained things adequately—and no wonder, when mortals were so touchy about pesky things like details and terminology—but surely Luke could sense the rightness of the draw between them. He might not be attuned to his instincts the same way Syrus was, but they were there, hiding under those surface-level concerns of “normal” and “sane” and “morally sound.”

Sybil cleared her throat, the sharpness of her gaze suggesting it wasn’t her first attempt to gain Syrus’s attention. But was it any wonder his focus had wandered? She and her mate, Daphne, had been alarmingly thorough in their investigation. They clearly didn’t share Riley’s lack of concern for the marine section of the former institute.

“And you saw nothing more of his home?” Sybil pressed when she’d refocused him. “No sign of technology other than the laptop?”

Syrus glared at her. They’d already been over this. They’d been over everything. “Why haven’t you gone yourselves before now, if it’s so important to you?”

The two women exchanged a glance. Sybil took a sip of the tea she’d helped herself to after Luke had left. Syrus hadn’t even known Luke had tea. He’d only ever seen his human drink coffee. “It was decided to leave the lower-level employees to their own devices, give them a certain illusion of safety, then monitor them from a distance, see if any of them were contacted or relocated to another facility, in case it could lead us to other locations.” Sybil waited for Syrus to nod his understanding. “But now that you’ve been to his home regardless, we want to know the details.”

“And I’ve given them to you,” Syrus told them, his impatience clear.

“You have.” Daphne eyed him with a discerning gaze that was at odds with her surface-level sweetness. “He unsettled you, didn’t he?”

Syrus hummed noncommittally.

One mortal man was no threat in the grand scheme of things, but the balance of assessing potential danger and not alienating Luke further—that was the tricky part. Unsettling was perhaps one word for it.

“How long are you giving him to leave?” Sybil asked.

“I would prefer he not linger for more than a few days.” Syrus would actually prefer to throw the man bodily into the ocean, then watch as sharks tore him limb from limb, but that wasn’t an option at the moment.

The women exchanged yet another silent glance. “The weekend, then,” Daphne said brightly when they were done with their wordless communication. “If he’s still there, we’ll pay a visit.”

They were in essence offering assistance, and assistance unasked for. Syrus narrowed his eyes at the pair. “Why?”

Daphne leaned forward, the picture of earnestness. “This is our home. Not for forever, maybe, but for now. We raised our son in these woods, and he found his mate in its center. We’ll protect the inhabitants, even those who’ve arrived more…recently.”

“And we know how to be discreet,” Sybil added pointedly, suggesting she believed Syrus did not.

Fair enough. Syrus had never been one for camouflage when the alternative was to dazzle.