Page 40 of Map of Pain
He reached across the table, covering Nick’s hand with his own. The contact was brief, gentle—a moment of connection without demand. Nick didn’t pull away or flinch. His scent warmed, and for just a moment, something like wonder flickered across his features.
When Luka withdrew his hand, the warmth lingered between them. Nick’s eyes met his, and in that shared gaze, Luka saw recognition—not of what they were, but of what they might become.
If they had enough time.
If Nick chose it.
If the world let them.
Luka nodded, content to sit in the quiet kitchen, the shared silence nolongerstrained but peaceful. Whatever came next, this moment was theirs. He would hold itcarefully like the precious thing it was.
Chapter sixteen
I like hearing him laugh...
Nick
The headlights of passing cars created rhythmic patterns across the dashboard as Nick stared out the passenger window. The highway stretched before them like a black ribbon unfurling into pre-dawn darkness. Four AM—later than planned.
His fingers traced the backpack zipper absently, feeling the outline of medical supplies, clean clothes, and food inside. He found himself moving slower than necessary while packing, checking and rechecking items that didn’t need checking. Creating excuses to linger in the farmhouse kitchen.
The delayhadbeen deliberate.I chose that.The recognition felt strange, worth examining. Whenwasthe last time he chose to prolong something pleasant rather than escape it? The part of him that felt increasingly realwanted those extra moments. Wanted to memorize the way morning light filtered through dusty windows, the comfortable weight of Luka’s presence nearby.
Something about the farmhousefelt right in a way that terrified and comforted him simultaneously. The worn floorboards, the mismatched furniture, even the faint smell of dust and abandonmenthadsomehow becomehomein less than two days. The thought should have triggered warnings about attachment and vulnerability.
Instead, Nick found himself missing it already.
He glanced at Luka, whose hands rested at precisely ten and two on the steering wheel. Dashboard lights cast soft shadows across his profile, illuminating the careful attention he paid to the road. Even driving, Luka maintained that quality of presence thatbecame so familiar—alert without tension, watchful without fear.
The silence comfortable rather than strained. Occasionally, Luka would point toward something—a road sign, an unusual car, the time-honored midwestern tradition of pointing out a cow in a field—but mostly they existed in companionable quiet that Nickhadnever experienced with another person. No pressure to fill space with words, no hidden expectations lurking beneath surface calm.
I chose this too.The sleeping arrangement before they left. Nick’s mind returned to that moment, analyzing his own decision-making process with something approaching wonder.
He’dpositioned himself in the living room initially, telling himself itwastactical to monitor Luka’s movements and keep watch on the front door. But when exhaustion began dragging his eyelids down, he settled on the floor in the exact same spot. He wrapped himself in the same blanket, arranged his body in the same defensive curl.
And waited.
The hunter catalogued vulnerabilities and escape routes. But it still felt distant, muffled, like hearing an argument through thickwalls. He remained in control, making a conscious choice to seek comfort rather than endure isolation.
When Luka tentatively lowered himself to the floor nearby, Nick didn’t move away. He didn’t flinch when the vampire opened his arms in silent invitation. Instead,he’dchosento move closer. Chosen to press his head against Luka’s chest, absorbing the steady rhythm of unnecessary breathing. Chosen to let Luka’s coolness soothe the infection’s lingering heat.
He’dfallen asleep almost immediately, his body going slack with a trust that now, conscious and alert, left him breathless with its implications.
How did I feel safe enough to sleep that deeply?The question circled his mind without the desperate edge it would have carried weeks ago. Now it felt like genuine curiosity about his own transformation rather than panic at his perceived weakness.
The submissive voice that provided self-recriminating answers remained silent, fading like an echo in an empty room. Its absence felt like shedding weight he didn’t realize hehadbeen carrying.
Nick’s gaze drifted to the side mirror, scanning automatically. Empty road. The movementwashabit rather than fear, his training operating on autopilot while his mind focused elsewhere. He checked the rearview mirror, then back to the side mirror. The rhythm felt familiar, comforting in its predictability.
But underneath the tactical awareness, something elsewashappening. Something that made his chest warm with each glance at Luka’s profile.
Attraction.The word surfaced without shame or panic, just quiet recognition. Not the mechanical arousal Gianmarcohadconditionedor the clinical detachment the Societyhaddemanded. This felt... personal.His.A response generated by his own desire rather than external manipulation.
The realization should have terrified him. Instead, it felt like discovering a room in his own house he forgotexisted.
Nick’s thoughts drifted to the kiss. Heasked Luka to pretend it didn’t happen, and the vampire respected that boundary. No pressure, no subtle manipulation, no attempts to leverage Nick’s moment of vulnerability. Just acceptance.
I wanted it to happen. I made it happen.
