Page 17 of Wolfgang

He pressed a palm hard to his forehead, trying to will his brain back into sense. “Okay, I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Mm-hmm. Yep. I had a psychotic break.”

“Did you?” Wolfe set his massive book on the bedside table, lacing his fingers over one crossed knee, like some TV psychiatrist. “And do you have a history of delusions?”

Eric shot him a savage look. “No.”

“Hallucinations?” Wolfe asked. Eric shook his head, and Wolfe clucked his tongue. “Come now, Eric. You’re a doctor. You know better.”

A strange jolt of electricity ran through Eric when Wolfe used his given name. He was always—always—Dr. Monroe in this town. If someone liked him, or tolerated him especially well, he was just Monroe. But no one called him Eric. No one except his mother, and she didn’t usually say it with any sort of fondness.

And no, Eric didn’t have any history of delusions or hallucinations, but his mind clearly wasn’t in the right place if he was focused on the man who kidnapped him using his first name all nicely.

“We don’t have much time,” Wolfe said, scooting his chair even closer. And Eric should be nervous about that, right? This guy had attacked him. Drank his blood, even, if Eric’s memory was to be believed. And yet some part of Eric—that weird, new, rumbly presence in him especially—wanted him even closer than that. That same weird part of him felt like they should be…touching, even. Like, maybe touching a whole lot.

His dick twitched at the thought.Don’t you fucking dare, he ordered it.

“Very soon,” Wolfe continued, either oblivious or uncaring of Eric’s internal dilemma, “some…friends of mine are going to be checking in on you. They might try to convince you to leave. They might perhaps tell you I’m a psychopath.”

Now Eric did laugh, a dry, humorless chuckle. He didn’t need anybody to tell him this guy was a psychopath. The evidence spoke clearly enough. “That sounds about right. Are you even a real massage therapist?”

Wolfe pursed his lips, either in displeasure or to repress a smile. “I can tell you truthfully I did not intend to turn you so…suddenly. My beast would not cooperate.”

Eric’s brain skipped right over the “beast” part of that. He’d been kidnapped by a delusional psychopath; that was fine. Well, not fine. Terrible, actually. But said psychopath was allowing potential rescuers to come visit Eric, so maybe he wasn’t completely set on this abduction being a permanent thing.

Only…the way Wolfe had phrased that. “But you did intend to…turn me? At some point?” Eric asked. He figured “turning” must be code for kidnapping. Just a regular, ordinary kidnapping. Nothing strange or paranormal going on over here, folks.

And what about the blood drinking? And the burning feeling? And this new, weird presence in your brain, the one that’s very pro-licking when it comes to said kidnapper?Eric ignored those thoughts. Those were bad, unhelpful thoughts. He was a rational person. He was adoctor, goddamn it.

Wolfe leaned forward, and it took everything in Eric to resist swaying toward him in turn. “We are bonded, you and I.”

“Because you…turned me?” Eric kept his spine stick-fucking-straight, not giving an inch to that ridiculous urge to be closer.

Wolfe gave a single sharp shake of his head. “I turned youbecausewe are bonded. Made for each other. Destined by fate.”

See? That was some stalker, kidnapper, psycho, serial killer shit. And Eric really needed to get his fight-or-flight response on board. His body was way too weirdly relaxed for the situation he was in. “Are you going to hurt me again?” he asked, hoping to jog his own brain into realizing that was an incredibly likely scenario and tobe afraid, be very afraid.

But Wolfe shook his head again. “Never. You are…precious to me.”

Of all the confusing things Eric had heard these past ten minutes, that was the most confusing of all. Eric had never been precious to anyone before. That probably proved more than anything that this man was delusional as all hell.

So why did Eric want to crawl into his lap?

Maybe…maybe if they just held hands for a second?

But Eric was saved from his own unhinged self by the distinct chime of a doorbell.

Fierce annoyance and a hint of anger crossed Wolfe’s face, quick as lightning, before they faded in an instant, his expression back to placid neutral.

There.Thatwas why Eric should be frightened, right? This guy may have seemed all calm and collected on the outside, but he clearly had hidden depths.

But Eric still couldn’t find the right emotions for it. It was like some lizard brain part of him felt safe in this guy’s presence. Despite the biting, the delusions, and the apparent kidnapping.

Which only served to prove that Eric’s brain couldn’t be trusted right now.

Wolfe rose from his chair in one smooth motion. “I need to answer that.”

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