THE SCENE played out for Chaz like a movie. Chaz ran down Queen Street from Adelaide’s without waiting for Imogen to get her car. With the shortcuts he took, he beat her by at least ten minutes. He burst through Artie’s door. Tabby yelled. Chaz realized her cries had nothing to do with him, but everything to do with Sully.
“A man took him. One of the new girls says he’s the devil.”
“It’s Declan Gallagher. Get Artie. Call the police.”
Chaz bounded to the stairs, taking them two by two. His adrenaline combined with his vampire blood and made him run faster than a human. He wasn’t even out of breath by the time he reached the fourth floor. Sully’s door was ajar, his red jacket allowing for an inch of space. Chaz heard Declan’s low, sickening laugh. Chaz kicked the door open the rest of the way. Sully was on the bed, keen focus in his eyes as he kicked Declan directly in the nuts.
Chaz almost wanted to laugh. It was the oldest trick in the book, but it worked. When Declan doubled over in pain, Sully kicked his ribs. Then his neck. Chaz expected Sully to poke Declan’s eyes out with the finger maneuver that Sully had shown him in the elevator of Reggie’s building, but he didn’t. He used the bed’s height to his advantage and kicked Declan one last time. Declan tripped backward and fell into the closet mirror. It shattered, sending jagged edges all over the carpet. Declan let out a low cry of pain. Glass stuck everywhere on his skin, littering him with tiny cuts. He rose from the ground, blood pooling around his hands and knees.
“You traitor,” Declan shouted. He lifted himself up from the floor and tried to charge at Sully. “You fiend. All of you. Both of you.”
Declan spat. Blood fell to the floor. Sully grabbed his bedsheets and held it over his face, protecting his face from the spray of infected blood. Declan seemed about to run, when Sully charged him. Sully used the sheet as a barrier as he slammed Declan toward the closet. Their legs tangled, and as the sheet turned a sickly shade of crimson, Declan hit the closet floor. Only this time, it was directly over the last hunk of mirrored glass in the frame, jagged and turned upward like a sundial. Sully jumped back from the sheet as Declan cried out in pain. All remaining white sections of the sheet became crimson, then turned to black from so much blood. It outlined Declan’s lifeless body as the piece of mirror protruded from his heart.
“Like an arrow,” Chaz murmured.
Sully turned to him, his eyes alight. There was no blood on his face or hands, but sections of his shirt were speckled with it. More importantly, there were no wounds on his neck. Still, Chaz felt a tremor of fear tickle the back of his mind.
“Are you…?”
“I’m fine. He didn’t… he didn’t.” Sully burst into tears. He stared at the mess of his bed, caked in mud along with blood, and then at his untouched desk. Chaz rushed over to him, wrapping his arms around him. Sully clung back, his sobs desperate and loud.
“You’re fine, you’re fine.”
“I know. That’s why I’m crying.” Sully sobbed again, so Chaz held him closer. He pressed his head into his chest, then kissed the crown of his head. Chaz squeezed him tighter until the sobs died down and became only tremors of tears. They stepped away from the pooling blood.
“We should go. There’s so much… I don’t want….”
“I need to grab this.” Sully rubbed his hands over his face, pushing the tears away. He stepped over the blood and grabbed his books off his desk, along with a couple of photocopies. Chaz understood right away. His play. His novel. He needed these things; they were all that mattered. When Sully’s hand linked with Chaz’s, he felt like he was on that list of desired items too.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Chaz said.
“I know. I am too. I was going to write you a letter.”
“Really? About what?”
“Something long and ridiculous about translation being the art of forgiveness. It sounds a little silly now in my head.”
“I like silly. Maybe you’ll tell it to me later.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Sully glanced up at Chaz, his eyes red and watery, but there was no sorrow there. He closed the distance between their bodies for a kiss. Chaz tasted Sully’s tears and swore he could smell his fear too. But it faded away as Sully opened his mouth and let their tongues touch. He placed his hands around Chaz’s neck and held on with more emotion than any words could carry.
And Chaz held on too. Even as the commotion downstairs grew louder and sirens sounded in the distance, Chaz held on to Sully. When they pulled away, it was to step out of the room and into the hallway. Police ran up and closed off the area. People recognized Chaz, he knew they did, but they also put together what was going on in Sully’s room. Declan’s body had started to contort and shrivel.
“So, you’ll be free of charges, I suspect,” Sully said.
“And you sure can take care of yourself, Atlas,” Chaz teased.
Sully laughed, which set Chaz’s heart aflutter again. “Yeah, I can always take care of myself. All bad johns are the same. But we should share the weight.”
“Partners?”
“Partners,” Sully confirmed.
Chaz swallowed hard. Sully clasped Chaz’s hand tighter as they reached the bottom of the winding stairs. More police and more workers were there. The night stretched on ahead of them, their work not even close to done.
“I love you,” Chaz said. “I don’t ever want to leave your side.”
“So don’t,” Sully said. “Because I love you too.”