Heat burned a line across his exposed skin.
Ben startled awake instantly. He knew he was in trouble, even before he saw the dim light filtering through the drawn curtains. No ordinary light. Sunlight. Death.
Ben grabbed the blankets lying around him, tugging them over his body as his heart raced.
How did this happen? I never take chances! Other vampires might play chicken against dawn’s slow approach, but Ben was always back in the crypt well before daylight. Along with the fangs, the blood lust, and the lingering sensation of something missing, being a vampire brought with it an ever-present awareness of the coming sun. Ben’s body should have screamed at him, every sense straining with the awareness that dawn―and a horrible second death―approached. Instead, he felt nothing beyond the adrenaline of his near escape.
Ben dug deeper beneath the blankets. Something is seriously wrong―
He collided with something warm. It shifted, murmuring a sleepy protest.
Ben froze. That was a body. A warm, living body―
A rough hand reached out to wrap around him, pressing him against the almost indecently hot body lying beneath the blankets. Naked, Ben realized. And most definitely male.
Most definitely aroused male.
“Not a morning person?”
The words were slurred, but Ben was confident he understood them. His heart switched gears, accelerating in a different way. “Says the guy who sounds more asleep than awake.”
Nate chuckled, shifting to press a sleepy kiss to Ben’s neck. His movement dislodged the blankets covering Ben, leaving him exposed to the light, but Ben didn’t try to hide.
I’m alive. The sun couldn’t hurt him now. Alive.
Ben turned his head to catch the next kiss fully on his lips. Nate’s mouth was just as hot as he remembered, searing like the sun but infinitely kinder.
Nate seemed happy to share a tender moment, too sleepy or too content to pursue needs beyond the reassurance of Ben’s presence. When Nate broke the kiss to burrow back into the pillow at Ben’s neck, Ben left his eyes open. He followed the curve of the sheets over Nate’s body to the sliver of sunlight coming through the curtain that made his dark hair shine. Everything about Nate was warm, from his healthy tan to the heat of the arm around Ben’s waist.
Their first night together, he’d watched Nate sleep, but he’d retired to the crypt before Nate woke, leaving Nate to be unceremoniously bundled into a taxi. That should have been it. A simple tryst Nate didn’t remember and Ben didn’t regret. And here they were. Him, a vampire, lying in sunlight next to a man who looked human but remained a mystery.
Ben shifted so he could study Nate’s sleeping expression. Nate made a vague sound of protest but relaxed as he realized Ben wasn’t going anywhere.
This shouldn’t be possible. Ben frowned, reaching out to stroke his fingers through Nate’s hair. I shouldn’t be awake at all. And Nate…
Ben looked quickly away, but the memory came too fast to avoid. Nate, paler than he should ever be, lying still in the dirt, his blood mingled with the dead leaves and his throat―
Ben’s fingers stilled to a halt. Nate shouldn’t be alive.
ARX had a clear procedure for encountering an unknown supernatural being. Ben sat up, mentally running through the checklist. First, assess the immediacy of the threat.
Ben bit his lip. Unless the threat is never getting out of bed again, I’m safe. Nate clung to the pillow with the dedication of a poor swimmer to a flotation device. He didn’t bat an eyelid, even as Ben shifted and the crack of light fell directly on him.
That’s dedication. Ben studied the rise and fall of Nate’s chest and the slight flutter of his eyelashes until, with a guilty start, he remembered step two―gathering all available information.
What do I actually know about Nate? Apart from the fact that he is incredibly distracting, even when half-asleep? Ben considered his companion.
When they’d first met, Nate displayed the sleek, self-satisfied confidence of a well-fed tomcat, too smug to know he should be ashamed of himself. Given his job as an escort, it made sense. Nate was polished, confident, and annoyingly, gloriously sexual. Ben had disliked him purely on principle. He could never have imagined that Nate concealed a thoroughly selfless heart, or that he would risk his neck―literally―for Ben’s right to feel.
Now that Ben looked closely, he could see traces of the intense strain of the last week. There were exhausted shadows beneath Nate’s eyes, bruises on his arm from their narrow escape in the cemetery. Holding his breath, Ben leaned forward to get a closer look at Nate’s neck.
Where there should have been an ugly gash, there wasn’t even a scar.
Not even a werewolf heals like this. Nate made a plaintive grumble, and Ben settled back, thinking hard. A skilled magic user might have been able to pull it off, but there was no way they could do it without leaving their magical traces all over Nate. The only thing Ben detected was a warm, gooey feeling that he suspected had its origin less in Nate’s magical state and more in Ben’s proximity to him. Which leaves what Nate told me. He healed himself.
Ben had four years of the best supernatural education under his belt―just enough to know how inadequate his knowledge was. First, the middle ages had hunted the supernatural into hiding, while the church, the greatest authority on unlawful magic, guarded what knowledge they had to prevent it falling into the wrong hands. With the Renaissance had come rationality, the lessening of the church’s grip on knowledge and a lack of belief in magical beings the supernatural were quick to exploit, fading almost entirely from sight. The lore that remained was piecemeal at best, focused more on killing the supernatural than studying it.
Not undead. Not a witch. Well―probably not a witch. Nate had potential but lacked the knowledge. He’d also walked through wards aimed against anything of magical or demonic origin… No matter how you look at it, Nate shouldn’t be possible. Ben tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin. Maybe I’m looking at this from the wrong perspective―
“Like what you see?” Nate tilted his head back, watching Ben through half-lidded eyes. His smirk was lazy.
Ben started. “Um―”
Nate chuckled. “That’s not a difficult question. You’re here, after all.”
Here. Ben’s mouth quirked. Accompanying an unknown supernatural being and his equally unknown brother to an unspecified location without telling anyone of his plans was not ARX procedure―unless they were talking procedure that resulted in Ben’s instant dismissal. Perhaps it’s a good thing I quit when I did. ARX wouldn’t know whether to fire me―or investigate me as a supernatural threat. “Where is here?”
“You don’t remember the drive?” Nate relaxed, leaning back against the headboard.
“I remember a drive.” Ben stayed sitting. “That’s about it.” He looked around the room. He remembered peeling off his clothes as he fell onto the bed, but nothing else.
His location was a mystery, but his surroundings were definitely prosaic. The morning light gave the wooden walls and floor a pleasant warmth. An old-fashioned wardrobe with a mirror built into the door stood against the wall. On its far side was a table with a sewing machine and a basket of fabric scraps at its base. The bookshelf above it sagged beneath the weight of its paperback burden, and an armchair was positioned in front of the drawn curtains. The sunlight fell across the floor in a direct line. “Are we in your mother’s bedroom?”
“Spare room.” Nate’s fingers rested on Ben’s waist, playing with the sheet fabric. “Doubles as Ma’s sewing room.”
That explained the sewing machine and the quilt covering the bed, which was old, probably a family heirloom, with a solid carved headboard and footer. The mattress was just as old. It sagged in the middle, inviting Ben to roll against Nate. Tempting, but a sound from outside caught Ben’s attention. “Are we near the ocean?”
“What?”
“I can hear waves.”
Nate snorted. “Look out the window.”
How late in the day is it? Without the vampire’s internal alarm, Ben felt lost. He slid out from under the quilt, discovering that the only thing he wore was his briefs. “Am I going to alarm your neighbors?”
“Nearest house is a five-minute walk.” Nate shifted so he lay on his side, supported by the pillow as he watched Ben. “You’re fine.”
The emphasis he put on that made Ben feel warm in a way that had nothing to do with the sunlight, warming the wooden floor beneath his feet. To counter his confusion, he lifted a hand, drawing back the curtain fully.
All he saw was green. The fresh green of the grass stretching all the way to the fence and the glossy dark green of the bushes there. Beyond that, willows, their long branches dragging on the ground. A breeze lifted them, and Ben heard the sound he’d mistaken for the sea. Beyond the willows, extending all the way up into hills, was a varied collection of deep greens. “Forest?”
“National reserve,” Nate explained. “Borders the farm. You’re allowed to gather fallen wood and hunt if you’ve got a license, but nothing else. Not without permission. We can go hiking later if you’re interested.”
Ben looked out the window again. If he looked away from the hills, following the line of the willows, he could see more trees, these spaced regularly, with the bright green of new leaves.
“It’s quiet, compared to New Camden. Nothing ever happens out here.” The bed shifted as Nate sat up. “I wasn’t kidding about the place being small.”
There was a large building, the faded red paint worn away in patches to reveal weathered board, and fences, but no other buildings in sight. Only trees.
“Ben?”
“You could murder someone out here, and no one would ever know.”
“What the hell?”
Ben flushed, turning back to the bed. “Sorry. Was that weird?”
“Just a little.” Nate patted the bed next to him. “But considering that you used to be a vampire, I’ll give you a pass. This time.”
Ben took the invitation, curling up against Nate’s side. It wasn’t cold exactly, but separation gave the rush of warmth to their reunion. “I’m not used to so much…country.”
“You know we don’t actually marry our cousins out here, right?” Nate settled his arm around Ben’s shoulder automatically. “Or fuck goats or dismember people with an ax or whatever else you city people think we do to pass the time.”
“It’s the quiet,” Ben said. “Growing up in the city, you could always hear your neighbors, even if you couldn’t see them.” He settled his head on Nate’s shoulder. “This… I don’t know how to take this.”
Nate laughed. “You can take down any number of revenants without batting an eye, but peace and quiet have you beat? That’s… I don’t know what to say, Ben.”
After a moment, Ben smiled. “When you put it like that…” He settled his arms around Nate’s torso, enjoying the solidness of his body. This was real. “I have to get used to the idea that I’m not a vampire―not even an ARX employee anymore. From now on… I’m ordinary.”
Nate nodded. “You’re going to need new business cards. ‘Ben Hawick, Totally Normal Human’.”
“Jerk.” Ben elbowed him. “What are you going to put on yours? Nathan…” He didn’t even know Nate’s last name. What is wrong with me? That should have been one of my first questions…
“You sound like our principal. No one calls me Nathan. Not since high school.”
He’d attended high school, then. There would be records―
Ben caught himself.
Nate’s not a case! He’s… Ben sought through the various options. Boyfriend? Even given the tumultuous circumstances of their first meeting, it was too soon for that. But someone who defied death and necromancers for you went beyond friend… Complicated, Ben decided at last. Nate was complicated.
“It’s too early in the morning to look so serious.” Nate settled back, looking up at Ben through half-closed eyes. His lashes were long, almost ridiculously delicate. “What’s up?”
Seeing Nate like this felt intensely personal. His hair wasn’t styled, and he needed a shave. So different from the highly polished appearance he displayed at the club.
Ben ran his fingers through Nate’s hair, brushing it straight before deciding that he liked it better spiking in odd directions. Nate had slept with many people, after all, but how many had he woken up with? This―
This was special.
“I forgot.” He explored the rough stubble of Nate’s chin with his fingertips. “The sunlight. When I woke up and felt it, I thought I was dead.”
“Shit!” Nate sat up. “You― I didn’t even think about it. Are you okay?”
The transformation from sleepy to alert was sudden. Ben couldn’t regret it, not with the blankets pooled around Nate’s waist, the sunlight playing over his bare skin.
“I’m fine. I’m alive.” The words still gave him a thrill. Alive. Human. “We met the dawn together, remember?”
Nate let out a deep breath. “Yeah, we did. Scared the crap out of me then, too. I thought―” Instead of finishing his sentence, he reached out, pulling Ben into a sitting hug.
Ben smiled apologetically against Nate’s neck. “It’s going to take getting used to. You don’t lose a year of fear overnight.”
Nate’s arms tightened around him. “You’re fine now, Ben. You’re safe here.”
Safe. Ben’s mouth twitched. The word felt like a foreign concept when it was applied to him. The definition of a vampire was unsafe, after all.
“Ben?”
Had he been silent too long? “Is it bad that being alive is scarier to me than being dead?”
Wrong thing to say. Nate kicked himself free of the sheets and climbed out of bed. He threw the curtains open, flooding the bed with sunlight.
Ben threw a hand up reflexively, even though he knew the sun couldn’t hurt him. “It’s so bright.”
“But it doesn’t hurt, right?” Nate held out his hand. “Come here.”
Ben’s mind screamed that he was burning. Or was that just the blush as Ben realized they stood in front of the window, entirely exposed? “Your family―”
Nate guided Ben to where he wanted him, back from the window, entirely in the light. “Still asleep.”
Ben got an unrestricted view of the body he’d been pressed against. There was something powerful in the way Nate’s body worked, muscle and confidence combining in a way that made Ben’s heart beat faster just by proximity.
Nate knelt between Ben’s legs, any submissiveness in the gesture immediately counteracted by the assurance with which Nate placed his hands on Ben’s thighs, urging them farther apart. “How’s it feel, Ben?”
It took him far too long to realize Nate was talking about the sunlight. “Good. Warm. Like being touched by you.” Ben’s hands gravitated towards Nate’s hair. “Only, you’re better―” He gasped.
The warmth of Nate’s hands on the tender exposed skin of his inner thigh was nothing to the warmth of his lips, pressed against Ben’s stomach. “Shut your eyes. Imagine yourself entirely surrounded by sunlight.” His hazel eyes sought Ben’s, glowing with an earnestness that was ridiculously endearing.
Ben felt it as a surge of warmth within his chest, not dissimilar to the blood pumping through his cock. He swallowed back unexpected emotion. “Sunlight?”
“Maybe the problem is that you don’t have any positive associations with sunlight.” Nate planted another chaste kiss to Ben’s hip. “I think we need to fix that.”
“I don’t think it works that way.” But Ben didn’t tell Nate to stop. He shut his eyes and steadied himself. Nate’s mouth had traveled to the soft hair at Ben’s navel, brushing over highly sensitive skin. No arguing with that mouth. Or his tongue… Ben heard himself gasp in appreciation. Color rushed into his cheeks. He’d never believed he was capable of making a sound like that, but Nate showed him things about himself he had never suspected.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Entirely surrounded by warmth and light.” Nate punctuated each statement with a burning kiss. “This is where you belong now, Ben. In the light.”
“That was terrible, Nate. God. I don’t know why I put up with you.” The sunlight felt good on his bare shoulder blades, just as the smooth wooden boards did beneath his feet. “Okay. I’ll admit. I could get used to this.” Ben stroked his fingers through Nate’s hair, down to the base of his skull, tipping Nate’s face up to meet his as he bent down. “But it’s not the sunlight I’m imagining surrounding me.” Keeping his eyes closed made the maneuver difficult. Ben hoped Nate would get the hint and kiss him.
Nate did. He stood as he kissed back, tongue slipping against Ben’s even as they readjusted their balance. It wasn’t graceful, but being unable to see gave it something else. Not uncertainty, not exactly―Ben trusted Nate not to let him stumble. But the unknown was a definite enticing factor, especially as Nate stepped back.
“Don’t open your eyes.”
“What are you doing?”
“Relax, okay?”
Ben heard a zip being undone. The bag Nate had brought with him.
“I got this.” There was another sound, a soft plastic pop.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“That would be telling, wouldn’t it?” Nate’s reply was frustratingly unhurried. “Concentrate on thinking sunlight.”
Ben heard Nate kneel in front of him and braced himself for the return of his searing touch. Instead, he was left to wait, hands grasping only air. “Nate.”
No reply.
“Maybe I’m not going to be afraid of sunlight after this.” Ben listened for any sound that might give away Nate’s location, or any shift in the air surrounding him that might reveal Nate’s movements. “But replacing fear with frustration isn’t going to help me any.” He gasped as warm breath ghosted over his cock.
“I don’t know. I can think of definite advantages to you getting aroused in the sunlight.”
Ben reached out, finding Nate’s shoulders with his hands. “Are you just going to tease― Oh, fuck.”
Nate had taken the head of Ben’s cock into his mouth and sucked at it, surrounding it with warmth.
Ben was unable to stop himself pressing forward, seeking more of that heat. “You’re so hot, I― God, Nate.”
Impossibly, Nate’s mouth had got tighter around him. Had he swallowed? Fuck but that was hot. Ben bit his lip to hold back his disappointment as Nate pulled away. “You like that?”
Ben could picture the lazy smirk as Nate said that. He felt his cheeks heat. “You know I do.” He could feel his pulse beat in his erect cock, demanding more of Nate’s attention.
Nate’s hand wrapped around his base, pumping him lightly as his other hand toyed with Ben’s balls. “Talk to me, Ben. Tell me what I do to you.”
“I hope you’re don’t expect anything coherent because― Oh fuck. That. I like that.” Ben’s fingers sought out Nate’s hair, tangling in it with the surety of a boat returning to harbor. “Do that.”
Nate’s reply was a low chuckle, muffled as he took Ben’s other ball in his mouth. He was slow on purpose, taking his time.
Not going to act until he gets what he wants. “Your mouth. I just want it. You―you feel so hot.” It felt like there were two voices within him, one that was holding up a mirror to catch his words and throw them back at him, letting him know just how inexperienced and needy and embarrassing he sounded. “Seriously, forget the sun. You’re all the light I need. Especially when you do that thing with your tongue― Oh god, yeah, Nate. Just like that.” And the other part of him, the part that felt stronger with every word, confident enough in himself to push forward as Nate’s tongue traveled deliberately up the underside of his cock.
“This thing?”
Ben hummed agreement, shifting one hand to tighten in the hair at the base of Nate’s skull. “Mm,” he said, keeping his voice deceptively mild. “I also like the thing where I fuck your mouth.”
The words were still strange to say, and as he waited for Nate’s reaction, Ben wondered if he’d gone too far. They were new, and he was still learning how to use them. With his eyes shut, he couldn’t gauge Nate’s reaction, and Ben held his breath, listening for any indication that he’d assumed too much.
He shouldn’t have worried. Nate made a desperate sound that made Ben as awed as it made him needy, and then Nate’s mouth was around him, taking him in almost to Ben’s groin.
“Yeah…like that.” Ben’s control wavered, and he pushed forward.
Nate squeezed his thigh. It didn’t feel like stop. It felt like come on. Ben carefully rocked forward.
Nate met him. He worked over Ben’s length for what seemed like an eternity of glorious heat, before pulling off to alternate with sucking at Ben’s head as he pumped him.
“I don’t know if it’s the morning or not being able to see you, but everything you do… It just feels more. I― Oh fuck. I just want more―”
Nate casually thumbed the sensitive ridge at Ben’s cock head. “You want to come in my throat?” he asked with an innocence that was entirely put on but didn’t prevent Ben from jolting eagerly into his touch. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
“You’re a jerk. And also, yes.” Ben gripped Nate’s shoulders tighter than absolutely necessary, steadying himself as he felt Nate reposition, one hand at Ben’s base, the other urging his legs apart. He had a moment to catch his breath as Nate lined himself up, and then all hope of self-control was gone as Nate swallowed him whole.
“Yeah, you’re going to make me come. I’m going to―” Ben thrust into Nate’s mouth with abandon. Not pausing as he felt a slick finger press against his crack. That explains the plastic sound from earlier, the part of his mind that still worked supplied helpfully. “Oh god―” Nate’s finger pressed inside, seeking that one spot. He should say something. Warn him. “I’m close―” But Nate had found the spot, and it was all Ben could do to stay on his feet. Sunlight seemed to grow within him, the light building behind his eyelids until all his senses were consumed with the rush of sensation.
When he remembered that he could open his eyes, it was to see Nate gently laving the head of Ben’s penis before letting it slide from his mouth. He met Ben’s gaze and grinned up at him, mouth way too pleased with itself, as he shifted to sit on the rug. “You like that?”
Ben let himself be pulled down to straddle Nate’s waist. “I lo―” Ben swallowed back a spike of fear. “Like your mouth,” he said hastily, leaning into the kiss Nate pressed against his neck. His heart beat hard. What is wrong with me? It's just a word! There's no need to be afraid of it!
“Nate―” Ben reached for Nate’s erection, hoping to lose his unwanted visceral reaction in a more pleasurable one but found Nate’s hand already there. Even the feel of Nate’s rough fingers beneath his own felt good, and Ben wondered if Nate felt the same thrill of contact as he moaned, free hand coming to a halt on Ben’s back as his hips jerked.
If Nate’s mouth felt good wrapped around him, wringing from him phrases Ben never thought he’d hear himself say, then it felt equally good to hear those same words from Nate. “Fuck, yeah, Ben. I want―” Even his come felt good, putting the sun to shame with its heat as it hit Ben’s chest.
Finally they were still, Nate leaning back against the foot of the bed, eyes half-closed, fingers idly caressing Ben’s hips as Ben leaned against him. “Feeling better?”
It took Ben a moment to think back and catch Nate’s meaning. “Actually, yeah. I am.” He wrapped his arms around Nate. “You know you can’t give me a blowjob every time I have a bad morning, right? It’s impractical.”
Nate gathered him close. “I can try. Though, um…”
“Um?” Ben raised an eyebrow. Nate had just initiated sex in front of an open window, and now he was embarrassed?
Nate squirmed. “When we talked at your apartment, we hadn’t decided what we are to each other. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but last night, when Ma asked, I told her you’re a friend.”
Ben nodded. “That makes sense.” Nate was complicated on many levels.
Nate ran a hand through his hair. “Can we keep things casual in front of my family? Ma is… I only just told her I’m bisexual.”
“Are you blushing?” Ben poked his cheek. “You are.” Unashamedly sexual Nate could blush. The discovery was weirdly endearing.
“Stop that.” Nate swatted his fingers away. “You don’t mind, right? I mean―I figure give her time to get to know you, and then break the news. If there’s news to break.”
Ben nodded slowly. “Right.” This wasn’t that weird, surely. He couldn’t expect Nate to act the way he did at the club in front of his family, after all.
The grin Nate gave him silenced Ben’s lingering doubt. “Thanks, Ben.” He squeezed his hand, helping him to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s introduce you to the folks.”
✩✩✩
“I hope you like toast, Ben, because that’s all I have in the house.” Ma put the plate down in front of him. Golden-brown toast, a dollop of butter melting on it. Before Ben could muster an ‘It’s fine,’ she’d turned back to the coffeemaker on the bench. She was a small woman, almost ridiculously tiny next to Nate and Ethan, but there was something of her sons in the set of her jaw. “And we’re out of cream, too.”
“I usually take my coffee black,” Ben assured her.
Nate squeezed his hand under the table. “Ma’s just annoyed she can’t go full country hospitality on you. She took one look at you last night and decided you needed fattening up.” His smile was amused.
Ma set Nate’s plate of toast down on the kitchen table with a bang. “And whose fault is that? A sixteen-hour drive and it doesn’t occur to you I might like to know I have a guest! Look at the state of this kitchen!”
“The kitchen looks great,” Nate said promptly. “Like it always does. You really know how to make the place feel welcoming.”
It wasn’t an empty platitude. The kitchen was small, crowded with the everyday clutter of the family living in it, but that only added to its welcome. The wooden walls were warm, even if the pictures that hung on them were faded, and the furniture solid despite showing the passage of time. The kitchen table was large and bulky, reminiscent of a time when families were bigger, and the chairs had an irregularity to them that suggested they’d been handmade. The blue-and-white floral design of the curtains had faded, and the bench and cupboards had lost their shine, but it was scrupulously clean.
A bowl of deep-purple flowers (African violets, Ben learned later), sat on the table. A row of herbs lined the windowsill over the sink, while ivy waved in the breeze beyond the kitchen window. A trio of spider ferns, possibly relatives of the one Nate had brought home with him, occupied the top of the fridge.
Ma flitted around the kitchen like a bee in a garden, never settling for long in any one place. She paused with one hand on the coffeepot, the other on her hip, to give Nate a severe look. “If it’s so welcoming, why do we never see you? No visits―not even a phone call to let your mother know you weren’t being murdered!”
Ben flinched, snatching his hand back from his slice of toast. Nate had been murdered.
Ma noticed. “Eat up,” she told Ben. “Don’t mind me. Nate should know better―”
“Here we go.” Nate settled back in his chair.
Ma immediately bristled. “Here we go indeed! A city in a state of emergency―a new murder every time you turn on the news!―And you not even answering your phone so that we know you’re all right!”
“I told you! My phone’s broken―”
“Didn’t stop you calling when you had something you wanted to ask.” Ma banged a cupboard open with energy. “Or from using a payphone! But no―a necromancer on the loose and nothing to let me know you weren’t in trouble!”
Ben stared at Nate. He has to have told his family he was one of the necromancer’s victims. That wasn’t something you could hide!
“I didn’t want you to worry.” Nate adopted a soothing tone. “The place I worked at closed, and I was out a place to stay. I ended up crashing with a friend and―well, I knew you’d be anxious.”
“Anxious is right!” Ma placed a cup of coffee in front of Ben. “Here I am not knowing whether you’re alive or dead―”
He hasn’t told her. Ben swallowed. Nate radiated honesty like a teenager radiated AXE body spray. Ben could not have believed him capable of hiding something of the magnitude of his own death, but the evidence was unfolding before his eyes. And if he can hide that…what else is he hiding?
“I’m fine,” Nate assured Ma. “And I’m home now. Nothing to worry about.”
Ben frowned at Nate. If Ma had any idea of what we’d escaped from―
Across the table, Ethan rolled his eyes.
Seeing his thoughts mirrored on Ethan’s face disconcerted Ben. Nate’s twin had not spoken once, applying himself methodically to the toast and coffee set in front of him. Although physically the brothers were identical, Ethan’s indifference was a marked contrast to Nate’s easy display of emotion. Ben had no idea what Ethan thought or felt about his presence at the family table. That grimace was the most emotion Ben had seen on him to date.
Is this an ongoing argument? Ben only half listened to Nate assuring Ma that he could be trusted to take care of himself, struggling to reconcile the Nate he thought he knew with a Nate who routinely deceived the people closest to him.
“Easy for you to say.” Ma’s scolding was undercut by the fact that she stroked Nate’s hair as she gave him his coffee. “You’re not the one who was worried sick. And I don’t know what you’re smirking about, Ethan. The only reason I knew you’d gone to New Camden was because Dan saw you topping up the truck at the gas station and asked where you were off to. Nothing wrong with your phone.”
Ethan hastily reached for his coffee.
Ben bit back a smile. Ethan was an enigma, but knowing he reacted like a guilty child to his mother’s scolding made him less intimidating. “So, Ethan,” he said quickly, before Ma could regain her steam. “Nate tells me you take care of the farm all by yourself. That must be a lot of work.”
Ethan grunted, putting down his coffee and picking up his toast.
Ben paused. At least he responded. Which was more than Ethan had done their previous encounters. Ben cast a look at Nate and received a thumbs-up in response. This is…good? Ben took a deep breath. “I’m really interested how you knew about flying rowans. Usually, that sort of knowledge is limited to witches or―”
“There’s no talk of magic in this household,” Ma said in tones that didn’t brook any discussion. “Or witchcraft.”
Ethan smirked.
Ben looked down at the untouched toast in front of him. He felt stung, more upset than he should by the abrupt interaction. It was only a question!
Nate’s hand found his under the table and squeezed it. “You never told me what you decided to do with the pruning, Ethan. Did you get help?” The gesture should have been reassuring, but instead Ben was uncomfortably aware just how out of place he was in the farmhouse.
Ethan snorted at Nate’s question. “Don’t need it.”
“You realize being independent doesn’t mean you have to do everything yourself, right?” Nate nudged his brother with his elbow.
Ethan looked at him. “You’re here now.”
“What a good idea,” Ma said briskly, wiping down the bench with a cloth. “Nate, you can help your brother in the orchard once you finish breakfast. He can show you all the progress he’s made.”
Nate put down his coffee. “Ben―”
“Ben will want a shower and a fresh change of clothes." Ma wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll take care of him.”
And that settled that.
✩✩✩
The bathroom was down the same hall as the spare bedroom. Ma smoothed out the rugs covering the floor as they went. “Mind your feet. It’s an old house, the boards have shifted over time.”
“It’s beautiful,” Ben said. “It’s been in your family for a long time, hasn’t it?”
Ma gave him a pleased smile. “Mitch was the third of his line to live here. Ethan and Nate are the fourth.” She paused a moment. “We don’t get many visitors out here, so our manners are a little rusty.”
Apology for Ethan? Or warning? Before Ben could decipher Ma’s statement, they reached the bathroom.
“You don’t have anything to change into?” Ma took a towel from the hot water cupboard.
“We left New Camden in a hurry.” Ben winced. Ma would not like that! “There wasn’t a chance to shop.”
“Shop?” Ma looked back, her hand on the bathroom door.
“I―found myself out a place to stay unexpectedly.” True, if leaving a lot unsaid. “I left everything behind.”
“The necromancer?”
Ben bit his lip. “I’d rather not talk about it.” That was definitely true. “It’s still very recent.”
Ma’s hand rested on his shoulder gently. “I’ll find you something of the boys for the time being,” she said. “But first, let’s get you that shower.”
Ben nodded thanks, feeling more than his usual awkwardness in comparison to Ma’s brisk efficiency.
She led the way into the bathroom. “Leave your clothes outside the door, and I’ll get them into the wash straight away. We can’t offer you a bath because…” She shrugged. “Look at it.”
Ben smirked. Definitely Nate’s family. There were three ferns in pots at the end of the bath and what looked like egg cartons filled with dirt took up the majority of the tub. “What are those?”
“Seedlings.” Ma picked up a carton so Ben could see the tiny green shoot with two round leaves. “A frost right now would kill them. Here they’re protected until Ethan can plant them outside.”
“Are they flowers?” They didn’t look like any plant Ben knew, but plants Ben knew was not a large category.
“Radishes. A heritage variety. Ethan gets them out of a catalog.”
Ben understood ‘radishes’ and nothing else. As he tried to parse the sentence, Ma turned on the water inside the shower. “There you go. Help yourself to anything you need.”
“Thanks.” Ben stepped forward. As he did, he caught a movement in the clear glass above the bathroom sink, a pale face with sunken eyes and limp, dank hair. Revenant!
Ben jumped back. His foot caught on the edge of the hallway rug, and he landed flat on his ass in the hall.
“Are you all right?” Ma bustled forward before he could warn her. “What happened?”
He stared at her. There was no sign of the monster, nothing―but the bathroom mirror above the sink.
Ben swallowed.
“Ben?”
“I’m fine.” Carefully, Ben lifted himself up off the ground, ignoring the protest of his aching muscles. “I wasn’t expecting the mirror there. The sudden movement gave me a fright.”
Ma didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile, her lips pressed thinly together. “You take it easy,” she said and left him to the shower.
Ben heard the bathroom door close behind her with a sense of relief. He leaned over the bathroom sink, listening to the water hitting the shower sides until his heart rate had calmed. Wonderful. Nate’s brother doesn’t like me and his mother thinks I’m weird. Bracing himself, Ben raised his face to the mirror.
No wonder I jumped. This doesn’t look like me at all. Ben had seen his reflection since regaining his humanity, but it was uncomfortable to look at, not matching his mental image of himself at all. His cheeks were thin, and he was so pale he opened his mouth to make sure there weren’t any fangs. But it was the hair that bothered him most. Ben looked like a refugee from a history book. “All I need is a stupid hat, and I’m a dead-ringer for Richard the third.” I told Hunter and Godfrey to let me know when I needed a haircut.
Ben bit his lip. Neither member of his vampire family was up to date with modern fashion. Hunter might still consider Richard III a fashion icon. “That’s behind me now.” Ben turned away from the mirror. “No more vampires. No more vampire haircuts.”
He was alive.