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There was an unasked question in Dante’s words. Carver pressed his lips together into a flat line. What could he say, what story was believable, that Carver could say? He hadn’t known how vampires saw the relationship between a sire and the innocent human they turned.

Dante undid the first three buttons of his shirt. He’d already ditched the jacket when they arrived earlier. Crooking his finger, Dante beckoned Carver closer. “Scent me. Tell me what you smell.”

Leaning forward until his nose was pressed against Dante’s sternum, Carver took a deep breath. He went to pull away but Dante’s hand cupped the back of Carver’s head, keeping him there.

“Take your time,” Dante ordered. “Close your eyes. There are layers to the scents. You should be able to separate the layers.”

“I don’t know how,” Carver confessed.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Dante replied patiently. “Give me a scent that you recognize.”

Carver kept his eyes closed and nose pressed hard against Dante’s skin. Breathing in slowly through his nose, Carver tried to separate the different scents. He remembered the dark chocolate and rum from earlier. It was still there, just fainter than some others. “Dark chocolate and rum,” he whispered.

As Dante chuckled, his body vibrated. “That’s a good description.”

“What is it?” Carver asked.

“Lust,” Dante responded silkily.

“Oh.” Carver swallowed. That tracked.

“What else?”

As he spoke, there was a spike of one scent. “Leather,” Carver said.

“You are very good at naming scents with something you know.”

“But what would it mean?” Carver questioned.

Dante rubbed his fingers against the back of Carver’s head. “Pride.”

Damn! That was…nice. Carver pulled back to peer up at Dante. “You’re proud of me?”

Smiling, Dante nodded. “I am.”

Something strange simmered inside his gut. Carver pulled away and dunked his head under the water and shield of bubbles. Not only was he embarrassed but Carver didn’t know what to think about Dante. This night had taken the strangest turn.

When he broke the surface of the water, Dante wiped the bubbles from Carver’s face while chuckling. “You are adorable.”

“Am not,” Carver mumbled. He was finding it difficult to look at Dante.

Dante

Opening the sliding glass door, Dante ushered Carver forward.

He’d embarrassed the boy during his bath by saying he was proud of Carver. Not the reaction that Dante expected. There was an innocence about Carver that was in direct contradiction to the scent that Dante kept picking up.

If he’d had to explain it to the boy, Dante would say that Carver’s base layer spiked like bitter almonds. Deceit. Dante knew the scent well.

Not only was Carver hiding something from Dante, but the boy was outright deceiving him. Dante just couldn’t figure out why. The spike of bitter almonds came when it appeared that Carver was lost in thought.

Dante should be concerned.

Scents didn’t lie. People, humans or vampire, did.

If he was smart, Dante would call for Nicholas and have Carver taken away until they could figure out what was going on. Dante prided himself in being smart and running his clan with an iron fist. And yet Dante watched Carver step onto the balcony and did not call for reinforcements.

Something inside Dante was telling him to trust his instincts.