For a split second, Rahil seemed to stop existing, so frozen in place that Mercer worried even his heart wasn’t beating, but then, quietly, he said, “I’d like that.”
“Good. Because I don’t have the energy to see you home.” Mercer stretched to the counter for his phone, managing not to dislodge Rahil only because his lover clung to him like a parasite. He settled back down, and drowsily found the lights app. He flicked the remaining few off. The darkness that settled was so complete that it felt like slipping out of consciousness. His perception of the world contorted into the feeling of Rahil’s skin on his and the vague sense of a dreamscape somewhere to the left of him.
Rahil’s voice echoed, distant, through the darkness. “Merc?”
“Mhmm.”
“There’s still that thing you should know,” Merc thought he said.
Something he should know? There was a vague tickle in the back of his half-asleep mind, but he felt like he knew everything in that moment—hadfelteverything, certainly. “Hmm.”
“This is important,” Rahil said.
Ah, yes. Of course.
There was one last, important thing to be said.
“I love you, too, Rahil,” Mercer whispered. He pressed his lips to the side of Rahil’s head, and if Rahil had anything else to say, Mercer didn’t catch it.
He was already sliding thoroughly into sleep.
Bright light rimmed the high window shutters, casting bold lines on the shed’s varnished wood. Dust motes floated between the streams, drifting with the same careless frivolity as Mercer’s sleepy thoughts. He drew his fingers up and down Rahil’s back, soft and slow. Despite the sloppy, sideways position they’d ended up in, the pressure of Rahil’s elbow making Mercer’s side numb, he’d never felt so utterly content—well, perhaps not never. But not for a good long time.
Rahil groaned and shifted, nuzzling against Mercer’s neck. Mercer stilled as he felt the press of fangs. “Baby?”
Rahil only groaned again. It was such an unconscious sound, yet so obviously trusting, that it made Mercer’s heart warm.
He stretched his neck a little longer. “You can feed, if you’d like.”
“Mhmm,” Rahil replied, and Mercer thought for a moment that he was still too deep asleep to understand, but then he tipped his head enough to nip at Mercer’s neck.
The venom was muted compared to last night, but the pleasure of knowing Rahil was waking to this comfort made up for it, the gentle glide of Rahil’s tongue over the punctured skin so soothing that Mercer found himself drifting back into a half-dream.
He startled awake at a knock on the shed door.
Adrenaline pounded through his body, ridding his mind of the last traces of sleep as he instinctively shoved himself into a sitting position, dislodging Rahil in the process. Mercer could feel blood still dripping down the side of his neck, but the second set of rapping on the shed door had the potential to be infinitely more dangerous than a simple pair of pinpricks. After an awkward moment of flopping off the cot and tangling in the blanket, Rahil seemed to come to the same conclusion.
Mercer was already standing, hopping into his boxers and pants, which were still conveniently paired from being removed together last night. He didn’t bother with the shirt. Instead, he reached for the pointiest of his nearby tools. For once he couldn’t hear the echo of that knock ten years ago, too engaged in the very entirely probable threat of the onenow.
The knock repeated, a little louder. “Mercer, are you here? I hope I’m not intruding.”
The war drum in Mercer’s ribcage stuttered. That was—
“Dr. Hilker?” Mercer cracked the shed door. With the panic still coursing through his body, he was half-expecting to find William Douglas holding the scientist at knifepoint, but it was truly just Anthony, tired circles under his eyes and his hair in a sloppy bun. His undercut looked overgrown. “Good—good morning.”
“Am I early?” Anthony asked, lifting a brow. “Your email last night said nine-forty-five and it’s nearly ten now.”
Oh goddamn, was it already—
Fuck.
Mercer shook his head. “No, no, I just lost track of time. Why don’t you…” He glanced behind him, hoping to gauge Rahil’s feelings on the situation, but Anthony seemed to take it as permission to enter, shoving the shed door open another six inches to slip past Mercer. He stilled as his gaze landed on Rahil. His brow tightened.
At least Rahil was now mostly back in his clothes, some of his shirt buttons even finished. He held the third from the bottom as he stared right back at Anthony.
“Rahil, was it?” Anthony asked.
“Yes, um,” Rahil said, swallowing instead of acknowledging Anthony’s name in return.
