Page 44 of Isaiah and Jameson
Damian blinked. “Now don’t be rude. That’s just tacky.”
“What did you give me?” Made vampires were far more susceptible to poisons and drugs, their metabolisms slower than born vamps. Jameson swayed, his vision blurring.
“Are you sleepy, baby?” The damn vamp came closer.
“No.” He stumbled back, his damn towel slipping. This was what he got for underestimating someone.
“Easy. Easy baby.” Strong hands eased him back on the loveseat.
“Not your baby.” The words came out slurred, and he searched for Isaiah with his mind.
“Shh…He’s asleep. You need a real man.”
“No. Don’t fucking touch me.” Touch came outtoushh. Goddammit, he was supposed to be protecting his mate.
“You’ll like it. I prom—” The words cut off as a line of red appeared on Damian’s throat, the blood seeping out.
Suddenly Isaiah’s face was there, sprayed with crimson, eyes glowing in the darkness. “Call his mother and tell her he’s outside. If she doesn’t get him by morning? Let him burn.”
“Yes, sir.” Diego’s voice echoed weirdly in his head but it was Isaiah he saw.
“Sorry…”
“I’ll put him to bed. He’ll sleep it off.” Isaiah reached down and lifted Jameson like he weighed nothing. “Lock the house down. No one is welcome until I say.”
“Mate…” Jameson tried to talk, but nothing wanted to come out.
“I have you. I’ll put you to bed, and you’ll be safe.” Isaiah held him gently, carefully, like he was precious.
“With…” His tongue was numb.With you.
“Shh…I’m sorry. I thought I heard you calling for me.”
He was laid out onto his bed, the covers carefully drawn around him.
You did. Please. Stay.He tried to grab Isaiah’s hand. God, he felt like a human with the fucking plague.
“You’re safe. I swear. I have you.” Isaiah’s touch was like a balm.
Oh, better. He closed his eyes, the world narrowing to a pencil eraser sized point of light.Love.
Sleep. You’re safe. Home.
Thank you.That was all he could manage before the drug took him. He would sleep it off. He had no choice.
* * *
Isaiah lockedhimself in his rooms, washed, and went to his library. There he could hide and read and forget that he’d almost killed his lover.
Gods.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
He was becoming… well. What he feared, really. An animal.
He hadn’t even thought when he saw Damian, had felt the pure panic in his lover’s mind. He’d attacked. He hadn’t hesitated.
No, he’d just slashed. What if he had turned that on Jameson too?
He needed to recuse himself, stay as far away from Jameson as possible. Hide. Repent. Control was the born vampire’s only hope. Otherwise they were just killers.
He had his day, his memory. His party.
Now it was over.
He would have to call Harve and thank him. Maybe ask his opinion on how to let Jameson go easily. Gently.
That was it. Harve would help. He’d call.
Later.
