Page 55 of Mitchell
Seryn kneeled on a wood slat. The edge of the board dug into his skin. Mitchell didn't think he was very old. The story was told through Seryn's eyes so all Mitchell could see of him were his legs. They were small, like a boy's limbs. Maybe he was ten years old. He could have been a little older, but Mitchell didn't think by much. It was hard to think of the child as the same man he held in his arms.
The boy's hand shook as he held the blade of a knife between his index finger and thumb. A man stood in front of him. He sneered at Seryn, but his eyes were dead. Mitchell had seen his kind before. People like him were cruel just because they could be. There wasn't any other ulterior motive, not even money. "Do it right this time, you little freak?"
The boy sent the knife sailing. It hit a target just off center. It was a great throw, but Mitchell didn't need to see anymore to know it wouldn't have been good enough for the evil man.
"You can stop, sweetheart." Mitchell hadn't realized how tight his hold on Seryn had become until Seryn stopped the vision and nearly climbed up Mitchell's body as if he were a baby monkey in need of some comfort. Mitchell lifted him the rest of the way. "Shh, I've got you."
Mitchell didn't see the bite coming, although he should have expected it. The bite pinched at first, but then it felt amazing.
Mitchell's cock hardened to the point of painful because his pants were too restrictive. His blood heated, but all he really wanted was to make sure Seryn had what he needed. "Daddy will take care of you."
Mitchell headed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Hurts.Did Seryn know he thought that aloud? He hadn't stopped drinking.
Mitchell leaned against the hallway wall, not knowing where to go. "What hurts, baby?"
My chest.
"Where's the bedroom?"
End of the hall. But I want to show you the bikes.Bikes as in plural? Wow, Seryn had a lot of money. More money than Mitchell had probably ever had in his whole life. Mitchell had been the wrong type of criminal. Instead of a thief, he should have been a contract killer. It was much more lucrative. Or maybe it was just that Seryn was brilliant at everything he did. It wouldn't surprise Mitchell if Seryn was a financial genius too.Please, Daddy.
Mitchell took the stairs. When he came into the living room, Todd sat on the couch, flipping channels on the television. Evan stood at the wall of glass doors, gazing outside with his back to the room. They glanced at Mitchell and Seryn when they came into the room.
Todd sucked in a breath. "Is he…?"
"Yeah," Mitchell confirmed.
"Is he what?" Evan asked, but he turned back to the view outside the window.
"Drinking Mitchell's blood," Todd answered. He stopped at a documentary that appeared to be about extraterrestrial sightings.
Evan's gaze snapped to them again. "What?"
"He's a vampire, Evan. It's like a love thing with them." Todd rolled his eyes.
"Huh." Evan sighed. "I think I'll find the east wing on my own, if that's okay."
"It's fine." Mitchell felt safe answering for Seryn, since he still latched on, even though he wasn't drinking. The physical connection seemed to comfort him, even if it was a connection involving teeth. What was weirder was it didn't hurt, not even a little. Maybe that was something Seryn did to save Mitchell from the pain. Or maybe it was just that Mitchell had been taking a punch for so long, he was used to pain. He'd fought in the underground rings for extra money way before he started stealing other people's stuff for a living. And then there was his stint as an enslaved fighter.
Todd smiled at Mitchell. "Thank you for letting me stay here. Feels like I won some sort of prize."
Yeah, Mitchell knew the feeling. "It's not my house, kid. It's Seryn's. You can thank him later."
Mitchell wasn't sure where the garage was or if Seryn had more than one. He could have a whole separate building for his bike collection. But he wanted to get away from the negative energy Todd and Evan gave off, so he just picked a direction and went with it.
He ended up in the kitchen. It was a chef's wet dream. "Can you cook, baby?"
I can heat soup in the microwave.Seryn stopped biting him and licked across the wound. Mitchell wondered if there was something in his vampire saliva that healed the wound faster.
Seryn laid his head on Mitchell's shoulder.
Is your kitchen completely lost on you then?
Seryn chuckled. "Yeah."
"I'll make sure you have something more to eat than just soup. It won't be a hardship to cook in a kitchen like this."
