Page 67 of Map of Pain
Lukawasstill pulling his jeans up when Marcus emerged from the kitchen, a mug halfway to his lips. The vampire froze, amber eyes widening as he took in Luka’s state of undress and Ophelia’s presence.
“I—”Marcus began, then stopped, looking thrown for a loop.
But then Marcus set the mug down and opened his arms.“Come here.”
He stepped into Marcus’s embrace, feeling arms thatprotected their makeshift family for decades wrap around him with familiar strength. “Do you need someone to talk to?”Marcus asked softly.
Relief flooded through Luka’s chest like cool water. Yes. He needed that. The past weekshadbeen a cascade of crisis and connection, life-altering decisions made on instinct rather than consideration. His beastfound its match in Nick, but his human mind craved processing with someone who understood the complexities of caring for broken humans.
Luka nodded against Marcus’s shoulder, then pulled back to sign,«Yes. Please.»
Marcus gestured toward the comfortable seating area, his movements carrying the careful consideration of someone who navigated delicate conversations for two centuries.Opheliahadalready claimed the armchair furthest from the kitchen, blood bag abandoned on the coffee table as she pulled out her phone with the studied disinterest of a teenager.
“Privacy?”Marcus asked, glance flicking between Luka and his adoptive daughter.
Ophelia didn’t look up from her screen.“I’m not listening. I’m texting Vincent about whether Adam’s therapist counts as a medical professional for insurance purposes.”
Marcus settled onto the leather couch, leaving space for Luka to choose his distance.“Insurance?”
“Adam wants to add Vincent as his emergency contact,”Ophelia said in her flat tone.“His therapist says this indicates ‘healthy relationship development.’ Vincent is concerned this means Adam expects him to fill out paperwork and remember his blood type.”She paused, glancing up with those unsettling blank eyes.“I told him Adam’s blood type is probably ‘caffeinated.’”
Luka claimed the opposite end of the couch, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. The blood bag sat ignored on the table—he should drink it, knew his body needed the nutrition, but conversation felt more urgent than feeding.
Marcus noticed his hesitation.“Drink first, talk after. I’m not going anywhere.”
Luka nodded and reached for the blood bag, taking a tentative sip. The process felt mechanical—sterile plastic and processed nutrition that always carried a faint bitter undertone no matter how carefully itwasstored. Nothing like Nick’s blood, whichhadbeen a revelation of jasmine and vanilla, sea salt and plums somehow. This felt like eating medicine instead of sharing intimacy.
Still, his body needed it. The nutrition spread through his system, chasing away the weakness thathadbeen building for weeks.
“I haven’t heard your voice in twenty-five years,”Marcus said.“Itwasquite a surprise.”
Heseldom found a reason to use his voice around Marcus—he had never really seen the point in hurting himself when they communicated so effectively through sign. The realization felt strange, highlighting how much hecompartmentalized the pain of speech over the decades.
«Itwasimportant in the moment,»he said after setting the blood bag down.
Marcus waited quietly and patiently, the way he always did—never pushing, never demanding more than Lukawaswilling to share. Itwasone of the things thatmade their friendship endure for so long.
Ophelia’s voice cut through the silence with characteristic bluntness, “So is anyone going to explain to me why he looks like that?”
Both vampires turned toward her. Shehadn’tlookedup from her phone, but her tone carried curiosity rather than judgment.
Marcus used her question as a segue, leaning forward.“What happened, Luka? I remember Nicoletti being cruel, like all the old ones are, but people as damaged as Nick never survived long around the ancient vampires in Chicago. Theyweregenerally kept by other old ones who treated them as...”He paused, searching for diplomatic phrasing.“Display pieces. Status symbols. I never saw that level of breaking around Nicoletti before we left.”
Marcus lowered his voice, though Opheliawasclearly listening.“Caleb didn’t feel comfortable telling me what he talked about with his brother, and I’m respecting that. But from the perspective of protecting this family, I need to know how broken he is and if he’s still a threat.”
Luka forced himself to think past the rage that surfaced when he thought what may have happened, to catalog whathe observed. But clinical detachment felt impossible when describing whathadbeen done to Nick.
«The scarring covers his whole body,»Luka said, his hands shaking.«Words carved into his skin like hewasproperty. A brand with that bastard’s seal. Bite marks that show hewasfighting or restrained during feeding.»
Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
«Everything about his body tells the same story—prolonged captivity, systematic breaking.»Luka’s signs became sharper, more violent.«Two years of being treated like an object rather than a person.»
Opheliastopped pretending to text, her dark eyes fixed on Luka with unusual focus.
«His mind is fucking shattered,»Luka continued, grimacing as he did.«It’s like he has three distinct pieces of himself. The Society hunter, the thing Nicoletti made him, and buried underneath all that shit is who he really is.»
“Systematic conditioning,”Marcus said.“Like the pets the old ones kept, but more thorough.”
