Page 36 of Bound in Blood
Vik hummed, finishing up the last glass before setting it on the drying rack and grabbing a towel for his hands. He didn’t respond to Logan’s quip, like he was trying his best to word whatever he had to say carefully. “Not much to know. News said three bodies, all found in some back alley a few blocks from here. No signs of a struggle, and they weren’t related to each other. Cops suggested some sort of drug thing.”
He said it with this measured, even tone that made the hairs on Logan’s arms prickle.
Logan tilted his head. “I’ve never heard of a drug that drains all the blood from someone’s body, have you?”
Vik exhaled through his nose, a short, humorless breath that barely qualified as a laugh. He leaned against the bar as he dried his hands, eyes flicking up to Logan. “Yeah, well. Cops aren’t always known for being highly intelligent.”
Logan forced a smirk, hoping it looked a little more natural than it felt. “Guess not. Kinda weird, though. Three unrelated people. Same spot, same night. You’d think someone would’ve seen something.”
Vik’s gaze flicked over him again, slow and deliberate. His fingers tapped against the counter, a steady rhythm. “Yeah, you’d think.”
The unease in Logan’s gut twisted tighter, but he forced himself to stay relaxed, leaning on the broom handle in what he was sure looked like a casual stance. Pretty casual, anyway.
“Lucky I wasn’t home,” Logan added, trying for a nonchalant tone, but probably sounding so incredibly chalant, “I was staying with some friends while I was sick. Would’ve sucked to have to deal with the police so close all night.”
Vik’s fingers stilled, his body seeming to… relax. Only slightly. In a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it type of way. Like Logan had said the right thing without meaning to. The silence stretched for a moment, and Logan didn’t dare move. It was like Vik was picking apart every single word Logan had said. Vik had been weird all night, maybe he would tell Logan why.
“Lucky,” Vik said finally, and Logan deflated a little. He’d almost run out of chores he could do before going home, and he still wasn’t sure what was going on with his boss. It made him uneasy. There was absolutely no way Vik knew what Logan was. He smelled as human as everyone else in the bar had.
Logan sighed, dumping the contents of the dustpan into the trash before tying off the bag. “I’m going to take this out if you’llstart counting the drawer, then I can mop, and we can get out of here.”
Vik nodded without saying a word, his eyes holding Logan’s for just a beat too long before he turned to the cash register, unlocking it with his key. His fingers started tapping that pattern again on the countertop, and Logan turned away, pulling the trash bag out of the can and throwing it over his shoulder with a pretend struggle.
The alleyway was quiet when he stepped outside, the traffic and faint sounds of foot traffic a little sharper than they had been before, but still quite muted. The cold night air bit at his skin, and though he noticed it, he didn’t feel the cold of it, just the sensation. Like a phantom pain, he supposed. He found himself a bit grateful that he’d been turned before the weather had gotten too bad, he’d heard nasty things about Boston winter.
He made his way toward the dumpster, completely distracted by his weird boss. Vik had always been up front with him about most things, it was why they got along so well. Logan had been able to confide in him. Vik, like Logan, had come out to his parents and it hadn’t gone so well. Vik, like Logan, had fled from his home. Vik was exactly who Logan wanted to be in ten years, though maybe with less tattoos. Not that they didn’t look cool on Vik, Logan was just afraid of needles. Would tattoos heal instantly on vampires? If he wanted one now, would it stick? He’d have to ask Marco and Mateo about that.
Logan was still distracted by his own thoughts as he reached the dumpster, chucking the bag over with a little more force than he was used to. It landed with a loudthud, but before he could turn back toward the bar, a noise directly behind him made him freeze.
A scrape of footsteps against pavement, a sharp inhale, then a knife against Logan’s throat. Logan subtly breathed in.Human, of course. Not Vik. Desperately in need of a bath. Poor guy had picked the wrong bartender to rob.
“Wallet,” the stranger barked, voice rough like he’d been smoking a pack a day since he was twelve. “Now.”
Logan sighed. “Dude, you cannot be serious.”
The man hesitated, grip slackening on the knife before tightening a little tighter, pressing further into Logan’s throat. It wasn’t even sharp enough to cut his skin. What an idiot. “I said?—”
“No, I heard you,” Logan cut him off. “I just… bro, I’m a bartender and it’s a Tuesday night. Are you really about to risk your life over like twenty bucks in ones?” Logan hadn’t received his card tips yet… not that it mattered, because this man wouldn’t be getting a dime.
“Just shut up and give me the fucking?—”
Logan moved.
Faster than he should have, definitely faster than he’d meant to.
His hand was on the other man’s wrist before he had time to react, yanking the knife away from his own throat, then twisting until he heard the distinct snap of bone breaking. The man shrieked as he released the knife. It had barely hit the pavement before Logan had him up against the dumpster, slamming him into it so hard he was sure there’d be a man-sized dent.
“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone,” Logan sighed, the man a whimpering, sniffling mess under his grip. His blood was pumping so fast, it almost enticed Logan to taste, but he remembered the fact that this man smelled like unwashed ass, so he refrained.
“I—I’m sorry!” the man gasped between tears, struggling against Logan’s grip but getting nowhere.
Logan exhaled through his nose, trying his best to calm down. He was already really regretting not pretending to beafraid. Now this guy was a witness. He wasn’t sure how to compel the information out of him, nobody had taught him. Could you compel someone to forget something?Fuck.Logan had to try, didn’t he?
“Look,” Logan said, keeping his voice low, even, and as calm as he could. “I get it. Times are tough. But what you’re going to do is leave this alley and forget you saw anything, okay? You’re going to go to a hospital, get your wrist looked at, and then try to make an honest living.”
He held eye contact with the man, watching his face go from terrified to blank as he took in Logan’s instructions. Was it that easy? Really? Just… want someone to do something, and they do it?
“O-Okay,” the man said, and Logan dropped him gently back to his feet. He scrambled past Logan, clutching his wrist as he ran.
