Page 45 of Vanish Into Light

Soaked to the bone from the rain, shivering, in need of a shower – and a fifth of vodka – he nevertheless moved around the table and settled in the chair opposite Beck’s. Between them, Gavin’s chest rose and fell at regular intervals. Alive. Saved. Beck had flown him back to the house after Morgan had delivered only the most necessary of field healings.

“You’ll have to ride his bike, and you can’t do that if you’ve exhausted yourself. He’ll live until then,” Beck had reasoned, and flapped hard with his wings, lifting into the air as the first fat drops began to fall.

Beck studied him a moment, then bent his head to his task, and pushed the suture needle into skin. It made the tiniest sound, one that left Lance flinching.

Beck worked in silence for a moment, and then said, “It isn’t your fault, you know.”

Lance blinked, and realized he hadn’t done so in a while; that his vision had gone unfocused and hazy, as he watched the pale gymnastics of Beck’s fingers, black claws gleaming faintly in the candlelight. “What isn’t? The fact that I almost got one of my guys killed? Or the fact that I was about to let a fucking demon bend me over a bar?” Bitterness lay heavy in his voice – and on his tongue, and in his chest, an ugly weight that was difficult to swallow around.

Beck clucked. “Neither. And he isn’t a demon. He’s a hellspawn.”

“There’s a difference?”

“A slight one, but yes. You couldn’t help but go with him. I should have realized that before we ever entered the club.” His hands paused, and his gaze lifted, the gold of a sunset; of a polished ring. “My apologies.”

Lance couldn’t help but bristle. “Why couldn’t I help it? Maybe I just thought he was – I dunno, cute, or something.”

One corner of Beck’s mouth lifted a fraction. “Did you?”

“No.”

His gaze lingered a moment longer, then dropped again, and he resumed stitching.

“It was – he was–”

Beck’s tail lifted behind his shoulder, a silent question mark.

“He…reminded me of…you.”

Beck’s hands froze for a count of three heartbeats, and then moved again. “Hm.”

“And Rose. It was – look, okay, I don’t know what the fuck’s happening to me. I’m too old to be having a – a – an identity crisis, or a sexual crisis, orwhatever the fuck,” he snapped the last, as Beck’s tiny half-smile reappeared. “This isn’t me. Something’s happened – you did some kind of voodoo bullshit, or you’re turning me into a vampire, or – or whatever. But this?This isn’t me.”

“Of course it’s you,” Beck said, easily. “What else could it be?”

“I just told–”

“Hush,” Beck said, in that same low, soothing way he had last night, after Lance had come undone, and all but swooned in his arms. Before he’d kissed him; before he’d bitten him. The memory of it left his stomach fluttering, and his pulse kicking hard in his ears.

“First off,” Beck continued, tying off the stitches, a tidy black row of them like a crawling centipede, “I’m not a vampire. Biting you didn’t do anything to you, save make you a bit light-headed – though it was quite an educational experience for me.” He used his claws to sever the thread, and then lifted his head again, hands resting lightly on Gavin’s bare chest.

“You, my Lancelot,” he continued.

“Don’t call me–”

“Listen. Are essentially a good and decent man.”

“I thought I was,” Lance said, scoffing at his own newfound failure.

“Lance.” Beck’s tone brought him up short; halted him on the road of self-flagellation he’d started down. “Listen to me, sweetheart. I know what I’m talking about.”

Lance swallowed, and heard his throat click.

Beck nodded. “As I said: you are essentially a good and decent man. You’re honest – with your peers, if not always yourself. You don’t steal, and you don’t cheat, and you only kill out of necessity. You help those who need it. You look after your men – you’ve looked after Rose in a way that I’m not sure anyone else would have, in my absence.” Before Lance could protest, another smile touched the corners of his mouth, and he said, “Rose is my most beloved soulmate, but she isn’t easy for normal people to love.”

Lance bowed up, ready for a retort.

Beck smirked. “Down, boy. Though I appreciate the sentiment. I’m not slandering her – I’m merely acknowledging that Rose struggles in the way that I do to make meaningful human connections. Someone has towantto know her – as you clearly do.”

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