Page 85 of Hot Blooded

“Is that comfortable enough?” Amos asked him, indicating the sweater and jeans. In acclimating Phillipe to the modern conventions he’d never had the chance to learn as one of Markov’s mistreated and neglected thralls, it turned out that clothing was one of the most disorienting changes for him. The close, stiff fit of denim jeans and the body-contoured tailoring of modern men’s shirts made him feel claustrophobic in his own skin. Most of the time, he opted to wear sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

But tonight, they were taking another big step in Phillipe’s recovery—they were going out. And that required a certain degree of polish.

“Doesn’t he clean up so well?” Tessa asked happily, surveying the young vampire with obvious pride.

Phillipe preened under Tessa’s approval, smoothing his hair almost shyly. He was a stunningly beautiful man, with raven hair, cobalt blue eyes, and a facial structure that had to have been carved by the hands of an angel. He’d probably been in his mid-twenties when he was turned. He had a full beard and chest hair, and decent muscle mass, but there was still a youthful prettiness to his features that suggested a man who’d only just stepped into full adulthood.

Amos wasn’t even remotely threatened by Tessa’s affection for Phillipe. That was largely because he trusted her without question. But he was also spared having to worry that Phillipe might misinterpret her affection because, despite fixating on Tessa while he was still a thrall, his fondness for her was entirely platonic.

As time passed, Amos could feel his bond to Phillipe growing, solidifying. For a man who had never had a single paternal inclination in his entire life, he was quickly becoming extremely protective of his unplanned progeny. And while the bond wasn’t as strong on Phillipe’s end—Etta had warned him that would be the case—Amos could sense Phillipe’s growing comfort and ease with him. Despite Phillipe’s affection for Tessa, Amos was the only one who could soothe him through the overstimulation that came with adjusting to the enhanced sensory acuity of a vampire.

In the early days of Amos’s own turning, Etta had often held him in a vice-like embrace while she talked him through the overstimulated panic attacks brought on by the noise of traffic, the glare of city lights, crowds of people, and so many other panicky moments. For Phillipe, it was much the same, except now the cars were faster and louder, the city lights were brighter and more numerous, and the people were even more densely packed.

“Are you ready to see Etta and Fran?” Amos asked both of them.

Tessa straightened. “Is it time to leave already? Hang on, I need a minute to change and touch up my face.” She darted out of the room, hurrying down the stairs to the bedroom.

Alone with Amos, Phillipe fell silent again, staring at his embroidery project. Embroidery was one of the many crafts Tessa had attempted and then tired of in her efforts to find an artistic hobby. But after watching her butchered attempts, Phillipe had taken her abandoned supplies and proven to be adept at it. The precision, the focus, the methodical movements all seemed to help calm and steady him.

“Are you ready?” Amos asked gently. “It’s alright if you’re not. We can do this another time.” Their plans tonight would be Phillipe’s first time in a crowded social environment with both humans and vampires for a prolonged amount of time.

“I’m ready,” Phillipe answered quietly, keeping his gaze fixed on the embroidery hoop.

The restaurant they’d chosen was a vampire-owned venue that, while social, was fairly subdued. The lighting was low, the noise tolerable. The restaurant also served mortal patrons—oblivious to the existence of vampires—which necessitated the vampires behave discreetly. There was a special menu of blood cocktails that wasn’t shown to ordinary humans, which were served in dark glassware that kept the contents hidden.

It was an ideal place to take Phillipe. As they stepped into the vestibule, the noise of the street dropped away. They approached the hostess’s station where a human woman with a silvery claim mark on her lower lip waited. Her gaze landed on the mark on Tessa’s neck with knowing recognition, and she greeted them warmly.

Beyond the entry, the hum of dozens of disconnected conversations filled the space. Candlelight danced in colored crystal votives on each table. The sounds of clattering ceramic and intermittent pounding came from the kitchen, visible through a large pass-through window behind the long, mirror-paneled bar.

Phillipe stiffened, inhaling sharply, hands curling into white-knuckled fists. Obviously overstimulated. Amos put a hand on the back of Phillipe’s neck, squeezing firmly, redirecting the younger vampire’s focus. He relaxed under Amos’s control.

“Could we have an out-of-the-way table?” Tessa asked the hostess. “Somewhere quiet?”

The hostess gave Phillipe a sympathetic smile. “Of course. This way.”

She set them up at a corner table, away from the bar and slightly screened by a large potted plant. Amos ordered a blood cocktail for Phillipe, who was busy staring fixedly at the other tables in the restaurant.

A few minutes later, Etta and Fran arrived. Etta greeted Phillipe with a noisy kiss on the cheek. “My beautiful grandson!” she cooed.

Amos rolled his eyes. Fran and Tessa grinned. Phillipe ducked his head bashfully.

Drinks arrived, and the conversation turned to community gossip. After presenting Tessa to the Council for approval, Amos hadn’t attended another Council event, except for a private meeting with a few Councilors to let them know about Phillipe while sparing him the overwhelming experience of a fully-attended Council hearing. But Etta worked for the Council, and always knew the latest goings-on.

Phillipe was quiet, just watching and listening. He didn’t look overwhelmed, but he didn’t look relaxed either.

Tessa leaned over, laying a hand on Phillipe’s arm. “Alright?” she asked.

He nodded, but he turned his hand over, taking hold of Tessa’s. She held on, offering him comfort in the intimidating new environment. Amos put his arm around Tessa’s shoulders, thanking her without words for her kindness, offering his own warmth and strength to her.

“…and Everett said they have confirmation that the wolves that attacked you at Montrose Beach are from the pack in northern Wisconsin,” Etta was saying. “I’m still sussing out the details, but I get the sense that the Council thinks the attack was a retaliation.”

Amos frowned. “Retaliation for what?”

Etta shrugged, her expression grave. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. Instead of figuring out how to prevent future attacks, the Council only seems concerned about keeping the news hushed up.”

Amos shook his head, brow furrowed. “They made me testify publicly about the attack at the state park. Why is the second attack a secret?”

“No, Councilor Juneja made you testify. Quite a few Councilors were pissed that she sprang that without a proper vote.”

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