Page 22 of Map of Pain
Nick repeated the gesture.“Twin,”he said aloud, committing the sign to memory.
Luka’s face lit up at being understood, his pleasure evident in the enthusiastic thumbs-up he offered.
Nick found himself smiling in return—a small, hesitant expressionthatfelt wrong on his face.
“Where are you from?”The questions kept coming, each one easier than the last.
Luka spelled out Macedonia with his fingers.
“What’s your favorite music?”Nick surprised himself with a question so utterly non-tactical, purely personal.
Luka’s eyes brightened. He made a flowing motion with his hands, spreading his arms wide.
“Everything?”
Another nod.
The day continued this way—simple questions, simple answers, building a peaceful routine in their shared space. His defenses remained at their lowest point since capture, constant vigilance quieted to whispers.
He finished a second protein bar, savoring the last bite. For the first time in years, he felt likejust... Nick. Whoeverthatwas anymore.
The unfamiliarity of being genuine felt both thrilling and terrifying—like stepping onto thin ice, unsure if it would hold his weight but needing to cross anyway.
***
Luka’s phone buzzed aggressively, vibrating across the table with multiple notifications in rapid succession. Nick watchedthe vampire’s expression transform—relaxed to concerned to alarmed in seconds. The peaceful bubble they’d created popped.
Nick’s muscles tensed.“What is it?”
Luka read the messages, face darkening as his fingers flew across the screen. He stood abruptly and turned the phone screen toward Nick, showing a message:
Jae-Jae
Hospital admin doing surprise audit on pharmacy orders. Three people in suits asking about antibiotic prescriptions. They’re lying about who they are.
That sounds familiar…
“Can he send a picture?”Nick asked, his voice coming out raspier than it normally was.
Luka texted while Nick’s panic rose, certain he lulled himself into a false sense of security when no one came after killing Henderson.
What the hell am I doing? Caleb’s still out there, still needs me, and I’m sitting here letting myself feel comfortable. Safe. When hasthatever been real?
Never.
The phone buzzed again and Luka showed him the image of three people in professional suits, two wearing lanyards with clipboards.
“Oh, God.”Nick pointed at the familiar face as he felt a cold prickling on the back of his neck.“That’s Owen. Society fixer. He shows up when there’s human resistance.”Owen’s voice echoed in his memory—calm, reasonable, delivering corrections at the end of his fists when Nick’s performance disappointed.
Luka looked confused at Nick’s terror.
“They’re here to kill me.”
Luka’s expression hardened, his neck tilting with a wince like the motion hurt,thenhe launched into motion and started collecting gear and materials without hesitation.
“Where can we go?”
Luka typed into his phone:
