Page 62 of Wolfgang

Wolfe’s expression stayed mild as ever as he drawled, “Just so you know, darling…if this child attempts to harm you in any way, I’ll rip its head off.”

For the briefest, most insane moment, Eric almost said, “I love you too,” in response.

Because that was what Wolfe’s statementwas, wasn’t it? A declaration of love in the only languages he seemed to know: violence and obsession. And Eric hadn’t been lying before, in the bath—he could feel it, this new soft, fuzzy edge to Wolfe’s familiar possessiveness.

But Eric couldn’t just go blurting it out when Wolfe hadn’treallysaid it. Hell, judging from what he’d said of his childhood, maybe the guy wouldn’t even recognize the emotion for what it was.

Except what the fuck was Eric going on about?

Because whetherWolfesaid it wasn’t the important part; the important part was thatEriccouldn’t say it. Because he couldn’t possibly love someone he’d known for barely a week, someone who’d drained his goddamn blood and kidnapped him and hadn’t even ever apologized for it.

Mate, insisted that weird voice that seemed to pop up sometimes now.

Thank you, that’s very fucking helpful, Eric replied with full sarcasm in his own head.

He turned to Wolfe, catching his gaze fully. There was something Eric had to say that was more important than any emotional declarations. “So, uh, I know from the bond and all your sly, sneaky looks and your general past behavior that you probably want to do it anyway: kill this kid, I mean. You’re going to do what you want and maybe ask forgiveness afterward?”

There was a flash of genuine surprise through the bond, one reflected in the barest widening of Wolfe’s eyes. Oh yeah, Eric totally had him pegged. “And I guess you could do that,” he continued. “I probably even would. Forgive you, that is. Eventually. I seem willing to forgive a whole lot where you’re concerned. But if you care about me, as something more than just a possession, then please.” He grabbed at Wolfe’s sleeve, tugging gently. “Please, just don’t. I know it’s inconvenient. I know you don’t want that exposure, but…please.”

Wolfe stared at him impassively, admitting nothing. “Why do you care so much about this nameless urchin, pet?”

Eric shrugged. “I just do? I may not be the most considerate person in the world, but I don’t want some innocent kid dead just because he’s a nuisance.”

“Some presumably innocent, alreadyundeadkid, pet.” Wolfe let out a put-upon sigh. “I feel manipulated.”

Eric scoffed. “This is what relationshipsare. This is what people do. They compromise for each other.”

“I see.” Wolfe gave Eric a hard look. “And how do you compromise for me?”

Eric pressed a hard palm to his forehead, not sure whether to laugh or scream. “Are you kidding me with that question right now?”

There was a long, tense moment before Wolfe gave the barest perceptible nod in response. It wasn’t much, but Eric was certain Wolfe was thinking his words over, if only because of the little pulse of frustration flitting across the bond.

Eric caved and pulled him in for a goodbye kiss anyway, delighting in another jolt of shock from Wolfe. He was always so surprised when Eric initiated affection. And oh God, Eric was going to be initiating all sorts of things now, wasn’t he? Who knew being fucked was like the greatest thing ever?

When they separated, Wolfe was smirking. “Now, darling, how are you going to concentrate on catching our little imp with these kinds of lustful thoughts dancing around that brain of yours?”

Eric’s face went hot. “Shut up. You need to go now.”

“I’m giving you two hours,” Wolfe said, smoothing out his lapels. “Before I fetch you, return you to our home, and endeavor to find out what new, desperate noises we can ply out of you. Let the other riffraff worry about the child.”

With that, he stalked off, clearly still irritated over Eric’s attempt at an intervention, although he hid it well enough on the surface. Would he listen to what Eric had asked? Was he capable of curbing his more selfish instincts to keep Eric happy?

It seemed like a large gamble.

Eric registered somewhere in the back of his brain that it didn’t hurt anymore when Wolfe left his side. His absence now only created a sort of subdued longing, from both Eric and his beast, rather than the mindless frenzy of the early days.

But Eric wasn’t alone long before a familiar lanky form, dressed once again all in black, ambled over to where Eric was standing by the benches.

The Tucson vampire. Jamie. The one who could apparently see visions of the…future? The present? Eric wasn’t quite sure how it all worked, but either way, weren’t vampires weird enough already? Did there really have to be actual mind magic in the world to top it all off?

Jamie nodded in greeting as he slid into place next to Eric. “Playground,” he said around the toothpick he was gnawing on. “Smart thinking.”

“I thought the group was gonna let me look alone.”

Jamie snorted. “Please. As if Danny isn’t already casing the blood bank and the hospital. Jay put the word out with his coworkers about a runaway. Soren’s trying his bloodhound thing—apparently he thinks he can find the kid through a ‘lack of scent,’ whatever that means. Bunch of bleeding hearts, for a group of bloodsuckers.”

Bleeding hearts. Exactly what Wolfe had accused him of being. It was the first time Eric had ever received that particular feedback about himself.

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