Page 19 of A Sip of Sin

Hollen slumped against the wall, relief washing over him. This wouldn’t be the first time he was late with rent. Their landlord wasn’t a friendly guy, but at least he had someone to back him up. Adair had been avoiding him, his gaze terrified if they ended up in the same room before Adair quickly ducked out with some excuse.

“Is it weird that I want to serve tea?” Hollen laughed, shaking his head. “I liked the fancy dishes, and the place smelled fantastic. Those little pastries were bite-sized, and Munro didn’t seem like that bad of a guy, minus the vampire bit.” He hadn’t got to try the food, which promised to be absolutely delicious.“Whatever happened in that room was some kind of fluke…yeah.”

George shifted in his gut, the sensation easing a touch of the guilt. “You’re insane, Hollen.”

“I know.” Hollen pushed off the wall, sticking close to it as he made his way to the back entrance. He’d already taken a breather out there earlier, and the garbage scent had been more refreshing than anything in the club. “That’s literally the reason I’m unemployable. Munro tried to protect me, though. He’s safe. I swear.”

His ears rang as he pushed the door open, stepping into the cooler air. His footsteps echoed as he wandered down the alley, a small animal skittering to the space behind the garbage bins. It reeked of more than just garbage and stray animals.

Some people were afraid of alleys, but not him. Why fear something that gave him his friend George? And getting a pretty cool cat out of the deal was just a bonus.

“Any suggestions for tomorrow?” asked Hollen, peering at the dark sky. The hoards of rain had finally passed again, a few stars peeking out between the clouds. Far away there was probably another job for him—maybe on another planet where he wouldn’t be the only one with a ghost in his head. “Do you think aliens exist?”

George grumbled. “Try worrying about the ground beneath your feet first.”

“Huh.” A wisp of cloud covered his view of the moon, his surroundings dimming until he had to squint to see his way. “I’m going to take that answer as a maybe. Some day you have to tell me how you know all this stuff.”

Shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself. It wasn’t that cold, but compared to the heat of the club, it was icy.

“I can picture what they’d look like.” He smoothed his palm over his arm as goosebumps broke over his skin. “They’d belooking up at their own stars, wondering the same thing. Alien vampires is a thought.” He’d never seen a movie with something like that before. “I wonder if they’re happy.” A tear rolled over his cheek, followed quickly by another. “They’d have their own problems and dreams…their own lovers.” He let out a shaky breath.

When was the last time someone had touched him with more than just friendly intentions or as a way to get off? Adair loved him, and they had slept together more times than he could count, but that had only been for comfort or to blow off steam. There was no worship in their kisses or adoration when Adair thrust home.

He paused at the exit of the alley, his chest tight. “I’m so tired, George. I’m not sure how much longer I can do this.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to banish the tears. There was a helplessness buried in the air, clawing at him until his limbs were nearly numb. He had a feeling he could curl up right next to the dumpster and sleep fordays.

That spark of life that he’d expected when he moved in with his best friend, the city as their playground, had been nothing but a lie.

“It’s my fault,” said George, sounding hesitant. His presence was calm, centered in Hollen’s chest where it ached the most.

“No.” Hollen shook his head. “It’smewho can’t stop talking to you. I could have kept a few of those jobs if I’d just ignored you.”That’s not all.“I’m glad you’re here.”

George was the one steady thing in his life right now—his rock. Adair had always been there for him before, but now he wasn’t even sure about where they stood. One day he could come home to an empty apartment and a scribbled note from his best friend, finally ridding himself from their desperate situation. Hollen wouldn’t blame him one bit.

Hollen wiped his eyes, forcing a smile onto his face. “You’re always here for me, George, even when no one else is. Besides, it’s not like you could justleave.”

“I could find another host,” said George softly. “You’d never hear from me again and you’re worries would be over.”

“No.” Hollen shook his head, clutching at the center of his chest where George was focused. “Don’t ever say something like that again. You aren’t going anywhere.” Hollen staggered, exhaustion weighing heavy. “You’re stuck with me, George. You better get used to it.”

The club door slammed open behind him, footsteps echoing through the darkness, so much louder before the music cut off again. Hair prickled on the back of his neck, even as George slipped away from his touch, his eyelids drooping low. He was too tired—too goddamned tired to even look up.

A familiar voice breathed behind him, slurred and thick as his heart raced and his knees gave out. “Well, isn’t it my lucky day.”

Chapter Ten

Munro

Time did twisted things. There were days that would pass sluggishly, people coming and going in a whirlwind of sound and color. Then he would blink and realize that a decade had gone by with little difference other than the clothing and his memories.

But the last few weeks had been torture. Every night he paced the floor as tea was served, his followers looking to him, sometimes fearfully, as they sipped from their polished glasses. Spices filled the air—cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger, but it made no difference to the desolation of each passing minute.

He’d tried to feed when he realized he couldn’t take the hunger and longing anymore—not tea, but blood, biting into a soft neck on a dark night. He’d almost gagged at the watery taste and the delirious look in the person’s eyes as he sent them on their way after a few unsatisfactory sips.

The blood had rolled in his stomach, threatening to burst from his throat and splatter over the dark alley. It took hours to settle, but he hadn’t been able to rest since, his body protesting the limited nutrition that flowed into him.

Instead of sleeping, he found himself often in the meeting room, staring at where the drops of Hollen’s blood had been. The room had been scrubbed after the bloodbath, Rhys no doubt leading the project to get rid of any evidence. Munro had never hated him quite so much.

The warmth of the room was back, along with the perilous chill of the table that balanced with immortality. One shout and he could summon Rhys and force him against the surface of obsidian, watching his energy and eventually his soul seep from his body to be sucked into the abyss of magic.

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