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Soren gestured to Jay. “Where are your words of affirmation?”

Gabe straightened in place, giving Soren a panicked look. When he found no sympathy there, he smiled tentatively at Jay. “Oh. Um. I think you’re great, little guy.”

Jay’s answering beaming smile was the most beautiful thing Alexei had ever seen.

twenty-two

Alexei

Thenexttwoweekspassed peacefully enough. There was no further word from the den. No more strange visitors, no more threats.

Alexei still couldn’t help feeling like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which didn’t mean that the past two weeks weren’t the happiest in Alexei’s life (not that there was much competition in that regard, at least not before arriving in Hyde Park).

They had been, most of all, a revelation in all things Jay. Or maybe an…intensification.

Because it wasn’t until Jay’s barriers relaxed that Alexei realized how many there had been, how terrified his vampire had been of judgment and rejection.

It was as if Alexei’s turning, now topped with the new assurance that Jay would be able to stay in Hyde Park as long as he wanted, had taken down the final barrier in Jay’s mind about the two of them, the last layer of insecurity about his perceived weaknesses.

Jay no longer pretended he didn’t hate being alone.

He was open about the fact that he wanted Alexei around him all the time, if possible. He was clear about exactly how much he wanted to be touched. To be held, really. He was constantly tucking himself under Alexei’s arm, or throwing himself onto Alexei’s back. When they were alone at home, he would jump onto his tiptoes, wrap his arms around Alexei’s neck, and insist on being carried around the house.

He’d been adorably shy about it the first time, but the rush of Alexei’s satisfaction through the bond quickly reassured him, and now Jay never hesitated in initiating touch of any kind. Because that was the thing Jay was clearly beginning to realize: Jay may have been codependent, but Alexei was just as bad. He reveled in Jay’s need for him, in their constant physical contact. His beast…hungered…always, for Jay.

And that led, often, to more intimate forms of touch. Faced with Alexei’s monstrous appetite for him, Jay had become more comfortable in asking for what he’d started calling “loving time,” in which he laid back and let Alexei worship his body, take him apart piece by piece while telling him all the while how perfect, how gorgeous, how good he was.

It was Alexei’s favorite fucking pastime.

Or was that watching movies, when Jay talked through every scene, his reactions loud and sincere and ridiculous? Or was it just every single moment he was allowed to stay by Jay’s side?

So now Alexei found himself at Death by Coffee, waiting on his vampire, content to be there for Jay to wave and smile at between customers, accepting Colin’s sardonic raised brows at his choice of reading material (Jane Eyre, at Jay’s insistence).

And then, as Alexei turned another page of his ridiculous book, a stocky dark-haired man walked in, stomping the snow off his boots at the door, and there it was—the other shoe.

Sergei Kalchik, formerly his father’s right-hand man, now his brother’s.

Observing the familiar form take in the café, seeing one of the exact people he’d been dreading having follow him finally there…it was surprisingly anticlimactic.

Alexei was a fucking vampire now. What the hell were any small-time mobsters actually going to be able to do to him?

He watched as Jay waved at the newcomer with his usual full enthusiasm. “Welcome to Death by Coffee!”

Sergei grunted back at him before his attention zoomed instantly in on Alexei in the corner; he must have already seen him through the window.

Alexei grinned broadly in greeting, placing his book carefully on the table, and that reaction had even the ever-stoic Sergei blinking in surprise. Meanwhile, Alexei could feel his inner beast perking up in interest at the potential for violence. The greedy thing was usually content enough, as long as they were near their mate (touching their mate, tasting their mate, fucking their mate), but it clearly wouldn’t mind reveling in a little bloodshed now and then.

Sergei pulled out the chair across from Alexei, taking a seat without a word of greeting.

“You here to kill me, Sergei?” Alexei asked, unconcerned with the answer either way.

Sergei removed his gloves, working each finger off methodically, before answering, his Russian accent subtle but achingly familiar. “You can’t think very highly of Ivan, if you think he’d send me here to off his own brother.”

An amazingly typical nonanswer. Alexei wasn’t having any of it. “Well, did he?”

Sergei paused to smirk before shaking his head. “I’m here to take you home. Ivan thinks you’ve had enough fun, Alyosha.”

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