Page 18 of To Fall for a Dragon

“We can go through to get to my apartment. Fast or slow.” Hakko hesitated before asking. Rushing Poe into making a decision would ruin everything Hakko had built. The museum was a line in the sand for Poe.

The spirits had calmed from Caden’s visit, but he wasn’t sure if that would benefit Poe or not.

“I don’t know. I mean, it seems warmer, but sometimes…” The words trailed off, and Poe grew silent. He never stopped gazing at the main hall, and his knuckles were white. “I was a gravedigger here.”

Hakko straightened and zeroed in on the nervous Poe. He had never offered personal information on his own. “That’s a fine job. Something every town needs.”

Poe arched an eyebrow at him. Hakko wasn’t going to back down from this. Putting the dead to rest was a worthy occupation. Only sympathetic and kind people did that.

“Being a gravedigger meant slurs and snubs, Hakko. I touched dead bodies. It was considered dirty. I was a pariah.”

Hakko guided Poe through the narrow staff-only hallways. As much as he ached to show off his beloved collections to Poe, this story sounded painful, and Hakko needed every bit of comfort to give to Poe. That meant soft blankets, cozy couches, and warm blood-enhanced hot chocolate. “I know I just said I’d let you choose between the outside and the museum, but I can’t. I have to fix this now.”

Poe shuffled in front of Hakko, cringing as he walked through the museum. He was paler than normal, and bloodstained sweat dotted his brow. Hakko had to lock his arms at his sides so he wouldn’t pick Poe up and carry him. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m used to it. Happened all the time while I was… alive.”

“Oh, you so aren’t used to it. Otherwise, you’d own being a vampire,” Hakko said crossly as he opened the door to his den. He ushered Poe through the door, and the tension visibly melted from Poe’s shoulders. “Seriously, Poe, you’ve been hiding for too long. Things have changed. You are a good person.”

“Fuck you, Hakko,” Poe snarled. He stormed to the living room and sat on Hakko’s couch, his arms crossed petulantly. The fiercest pout graced his face, and Hakko ducked his head to hide his smile. Truths hurt, and Poe had to realize that. He was vulnerable to the machinations of his sire and the mayor, and trapped in his hermit ways. Hakko needed him to step up now because he didn’t have the patience for a two-hundred-year courtship.

“I would, but you’re not ready for that,” Hakko muttered. Blowing out irritation and misplaced arousal, he busied his hands and made them a proper hot chocolate. He nicked open the healing wound and dribbled a few drops of his blood in Poe’s mug.

“What did you say?” Poe called out, obviously paranoid and listening for everything. Hakko cleared his face of all irritation as he brought the two mugs over to the coffee table. Poe glowered as Hakko settled in his seat. “Seriously, what did you say? Something about me not being ready?”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll figure it out eventually. Anyway, you were a gravedigger?” Hakko returned the conversation to Poe’s past. The wound needed to be lanced for Poe to find peace.

Poe squirmed on the couch, plucking at the soft tassels of Hakko’s wool blanket. He took a long pull from his hot chocolate before resting on the couch. “I fell into it, I guess. They needed someone who was handy but had no connections to town. My family was gone, and I had no future, no one to offer me a hand. The alderman decided I was strong enough to dig. So, I buried the bodies of all the dead inmates.”

“Don’t dismiss that,” Hakko pleaded. “Giving people a final resting place is an admirable task. The trees in the cemetery are very protective of you. They wouldn’t be if you were a terrible man.”

“Until my secret was discovered, and I was turned into a pariah. My job might have been honourable to some people, but not my proclivities,” Poe said bitterly. “It was at my lowest point that Sawyer found me and turned me into this.”

Hakko snarled at Poe’s words. Poe curled into himself and refused to meet Hakko’s gaze. “You are not a bad person, Poe. You’re good, so good. You must realize that.”

“It just sometimes doesn’t feel like I am, you know?” Poe’s honest words were heartbreaking in their simplicity. “He didn’t target anyone else. He was in and out of town like the wind.”

“You’re a gravedigger. You worked at night when no one else was around. You have no reason to believe he chose you because you’re a pariah,” Hakko insisted. Poe’s dismissal of his worth was likely due to when he was changed. The time period was fraught with danger for anyone attracted to someone of their own sex. His position, while noble, was also suspect. The poor guy hadn't had a chance.

“He left me alone in the cemetery to bleed out.” Poe's eyes were closed, and his refusal to acknowledge Hakko’s continuous support rankled. It was frustrating and exhausting, but Hakko was willing to do whatever Poe needed, no matter how long Poe withheld himself from Hakko.

“That’s on him, not you. You are—wait. You bled out in the cemetery?” Hakko leaned forward in his recliner and steepled his fingers together under his chin. The gears rolled in his head as possibilities and chances danced just out of reach. Could it be that it was Poe who had woken the land?

“That’s where I came to, so I guess? I crawled my way to the mausoleum and died there.”

“Were you magical at all when you were alive? Did you have premonitions or were super sensitive to other creatures? Did any of the letters you wrote cross dimensions?” Hakko asked. The threads were being straightened out and tied together finally. No wonder the fuckers were trying to steal his building, his land, and his Poe. Poe had cast a spell on the land when he died his human death.

Poe scratched his head. He shifted in his seat, straightening as he worked out what Hakko was saying. “This was two hundred years ago. I had one thing on my mind back then. Possibly two.”

Hakko had to wonder if Poe being a hermit also accounted for his limited understanding of a vampire. “This makes sense though, Poe. You can talk to trees and have them protect you. Your lack of bloodlust outside of Granite is shocking. Elijah and Sawyer’s desperate need to have you on their side and their desire for my land are the same twisted desire.” Hakko moved to sit beside Poe on the couch and held the cool hand. Dimly, he thought Poe needed more sustenance, but he wasn’t going to fight about that, not right now. Not when the truth was being aired.

The hand Hakko held twitched before the fingers relaxed and curled in Hakko’s hand. Subtle movements as Poe stroked Hakko’s palm sent waves of sparks along Hakko’s back before lighting his brain and erection in one shocking go. “That’s too much, Hakko. Why the fuck would… I’m not that special. I was an off-the-cuff mark. He’s said that.”

“That might be true, but it’s not how it ended up. You did something so unique and unexpected, and now you’re home,” Hakko whispered. “I realize you don’t think so. I accept that you hate this town with everything you are. But you astound me with your strength and fortitude. You gave yourself for the land.”

Silence reigned as Poe mulled over Hakko’s words. At least he hoped Poe was doing that. Poe’s eyes never left the floor as he locked their fingers together. Hours seemed to pass as they sat on the couch. Hakko kept as still as possible, hoping Poe would push beyond his own boundaries and rest against him.

“You’re building my mistake up in your head. I wasn’t a good person. I hated my job. I thought the inmates, er, the residents, deserved being here, and when they died…”

“You stayed though. And if I know you, you probably talked to the bodies as you lowered them into their graves. You gave them peace. Your words were the last kind sentences they heard before burial.” Hakko unlocked Poe’s fingers and brought them to his lips. He touched the tense fingers lightly, and they relaxed a tiny bit. He pressed Poe’s hand to his cheek.

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