Page 24 of Tested
Chapter Seven
Trajan
Scrolling through my playlists, I find a Handel opera featuring Orlinksi, a young countertenor who is both too beautiful and too talented to be human. They say he is, though I have to think there’s fey blood somewhere in his family tree.
After spending most of the night working with Smith, Connor’s out the door as soon as I rise. He said something about talking an adolescent nymph out of her neighbor’s pool. David has gone for a run, so I have Jacques’ huge house all to myself. There’s business I could be attending to, but instead I lounge on the big sofa facing the windows. Looking out over the city to the ocean’s swath of velvet black, I use the remote to turn the volume up as high as it will go.
Truth be told, I’m feeling useless. I’m a vampire, damnit, yet I’ve been following after my two lovers like some kind of undead cheering squad. I’m not hungry. I have all my needs met. So what is it I want?
I want to deserve someone as young and beautiful as David Collins and I want to trust Connor the way I used to.
That’s the real rub, right there. The lack of trust.
He says he’s going to interview a suspect and I wonder if he’ll come back, or if I’ll be called to view his falsely lifeless body at the city morgue. Tonight, when he got called out, I came close to inserting myself into a situation where I had no business, simply because I couldn’t bear to see him leave.
I tap my thumb against the smooth leather seat. I need to move past this or I’ll ruin everything.
“What the hell is this?”
David’s voice breaks the spell of my thoughts.
“Can you turn it down just a little? Jesus.”
I turn the stereo down and he grins at me. “Sorry.”
“I mean, I’m sure it’s the good stuff, but maybe we don’t need quite so much of it.”
Sighing, I pat the seat next to me. “Come watch the ocean and talk to me.”
He plops next to me, massaging his neck with one hand. He’s warm and slightly damp, and when I scoot him around and take over the massage, his head drops forward as if someone has cut a puppet’s string.
“Our next house needs to be on flatter ground.”
“Mmhmm.”
David exhales. “Although it is nice to be able to go running without a wet suit. At this time of year, it’s pouring rain in Seattle.”
He’s keeping track of the weather back home. “You miss it.”
“Some.” He stiffens and I dig with my thumbs into the thick bands of muscle running up the back of his neck. His answering groan tells me I hit the spot.
“We could visit.”
He’s silent for a beat. “At some point I’ll need to clean out my apartment and pack up the rest of my clothes.”
I spread my hands to focus on his shoulders. “Maybe after Connor’s not ass deep in murder.”
“Yeah.” He stretches under my touch. “I wonder if they’re making any progress.”
“Me too.” I don’t share the rest of my uncertainty because it’s pointless. Just because I don’t trust Connor doesn’t mean David shouldn’t. “We could run over to the club, if you want. I need to talk with the manager.” It’s a conversation that could happen by text, but I don’t want to deal with hours of unoccupied time. I’ll spend too much of it wondering what Connor’s really up to.
David catches my hands and pulls me closer. I rest my chin on his shoulder, and we sit quiet. “What?” I ask. His mind has gone somewhere else, and I wish I could follow.
“Nothing.” He squeezes my fingers. “Let me grab a shower and we can go.”
He hops up from the couch and has hit the stairs before I can respond. I follow him more slowly and while he showers, I do my best to dress like the owner of a fairly successful sex club. I even break out an Armani jacket, which was a good call. David’s shiny green trousers, ruffled yellow blouse that started life in a woman’s closet, and bright white kicks could have stepped off a high-fashion runway.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” I murmur, and he flashes me a megawatt smile.
