Still scared,his beast observed.But less.Getting stronger.
Luka watched Nick down three cups of coffee in rapid succession before reaching for a fourth. Each time, he added an absurd amount of sugar—six packets emptied into the mug with methodical precision.
Likes sweet things,his beast noted with satisfaction.Remember this.
The kitchen held comfortable quiet—coffee brewing, ceramic clinking, Nick’s contentment warming the air around them. Despite obvious exhaustion, Nick hadn’t retreated to any of the bedrooms Lukashowed him earlier. Instead, he remained at the kitchen table, maintaining clear sightlines to both exits while keeping Luka in view.
Getting stronger, but still careful. Good.
Luka caught himself staring at Nick’s lips for the third time in as many minutes, remembering their softness, the way they’d trembledslightlybefore pressing against his own. The memory made longing twist in his throat.
Want to kiss him again,his beast whispered.Want to taste that sweetnessproperly.
He asked us to pretend it didn’t happen.
Doesn’t mean it didn’t matter to him.Just means he needs control over when it happens again.
The distinction mattered, though Luka wasn’t sure why.
“So when are we going to find these neutral hunters in Peoria?”Nick’s question broke the silence.
Luka picked up his notebook, considering his response. Possessiveness flared—they didn’t want Nick to leave yet. This felt unfinished, precious in its fragility.
He wrote:‘We can leave whenever. Only about 30 minute drive.’
As he slid the notepad across the table, he caught something flickering across Nick’s features—a brief flash of what might have been disappointment before his expression returned to careful neutrality.
Interesting. Nick didn’t want to leave either.
Stay,his beast urged.More time.He’s healing here.
Luka pulled the notepad back, instinct guiding his pen: ‘We can spend another day here if you need more rest. The antibiotics need time to work. We’re way out in Secor. Society unlikely to find us.’
Nick’s shoulders relaxed as he read the addition, his scent shifting toward warmth.“Maybe that’s smart,”he said, fingers tracing the rim of his coffee mug.“Just to make sure they cleared out of the area.”
Luka nodded, keeping his expression flat despite quiet satisfaction blooming in his chest. Contentment hummed through him.He wants to stay with us.
More time. The thought should have triggered anxiety about Ophelia’s three-day deadline, about the growing risk of discovery. Instead, Luka felt only relief. Whatever was growing between them needed space to breathe, to develop at Nick’s pace rather than external pressure.
They sat in comfortable silence before Nick stirred.“If something else happens, we need a way for you to warn me. Like a signal in case you’re far.”
Practical hunter thinking, but also trust—Nick planning for their continued partnership. Luka considered for a moment, then pursed his lips and whistled a single, clear note that hung in the air between them.
Nick tilted his head, expression contemplative.“That’s good. B-flat natural.”His eyebrows raised, as if surprised by his own knowledge.“We can have that mean “heads up or get down depending on context”.”
Luka nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting. The danger signal felt right—simple, distinctive, carrying meaning between them.
He reached for his pen:‘Do you think they’ll keep coming for you?’
Nick read the note and paused, taking a long sip of coffee. The sweetness seemed to fortify him, his scent holding steady despite the difficult topic.
“Yes, they will,”he answered.“I’m surprised they didn’t come for me sooner after what happened with Henderson.”
Luka nodded, writing again:‘I knew about the warehouse events. Not the full extent.’He hesitated, then added with gentle invitation:‘Share?’
Nick paused, darkness flickering across his eyes. The concrete scent strengthenedslightly, but Nick was staying present even while discussing tactical matters.
“I was doing what the Society trained me to do,”he saidflatly.“Find vampires and kill them. Use any leverage possible.”His fingers tightened around the mug.“I hadn’t prepared myself for that leverage being my own brother.”