2. Adam

Chapter two

Adam

I arrive at Lucien's flat not long after the sun goes down.

I've been staying in our district since the attack because it's marginally closer to Sam and Kieran's place. It doesn't mean I've seen Lucien much. He's spent almost every minute with Kieran, and after what happened with Tristan, I get it, but I also feel like I'm missing something.

I knock with a barely audible sigh. Maybe it's time for me to grow up a little. We spent a lot of time together when he was stuck at the clan house after Nathan's attack. We're closer than most sires and turns of our ages, so perhaps I should just spread my wings. Leave.

A soft huff of laughter escapes me before I can stop it. I feel like I'm sixteen all over again, getting ready to leave school, leave home, start my adult life.

Yeah, like that ended well.

Lucien opens the door. The smile he gives me is genuine, making his green eyes crinkle at the corners. The bond between us—the one that marks us as sire and turn—is almost silent even this close, and over the next few years, I'm sure I'll stop being able to feel it at all.

It will never be truly gone, though, until one of us is. Somehow, that thought is a comfort.

"Come in," he says, and there's an edge of nervous excitement to the way he moves that has my eyebrows lifting.

"What's going on?" I kick my shoes off by the door and, once we're in the living room, I throw myself into one of the armchairs. Lucien shoots me a mildly irritated look at the way I sprawl over his furniture, but his expression softens when I only grin in reply. "Aren't you seeing Kieran tonight?"

Elle will be around if I want company. If Lucien doesn't go, they'll both be busy. She's been more than willing to indulge his time with Kieran, but I know there are vampires waiting to speak to Lucien again, and she's been fielding their enquiries for long enough.

"No," Lucien says. "Kieran's brother has arrived."

I sit up a little straighter. I can't deny my fascination with Kieran's brother, even though we've never met. For all I know of Kieran, he could have sprung fully formed from the earth, so the idea of meeting his family is exciting.

"Wait. Why aren't you going over?"

Lucien takes his own seat, primly crossing one leg over the other. "Kieran wants a night to settle him in."

I search Lucien's expression for any signs of discomfort with the situation but come up empty. He smiles like he knows just what I'm doing. He probably does. "I am surprised he only wants one night," he says at last. "As far as I am aware, it has been a long time since they last saw each other."

"Yeah." I tap my fingers on the arm of the chair, then tip my head back to stare up at the ceiling. "What d'you think he's like?"

Will he be serious like Kieran was when we first met? As protective, maybe. That I can imagine.

"I do not know," Lucien replies. "Truthfully, I have not asked. I did not wish to push Kieran when he was clearly worried. Whatever it is that has brought his brother here, I doubt it is good news."

I hum my agreement. We'll find out soon enough. I should get to meet him at some point, right? I might have only been to the flat once since the day after the attack, but the wards haven't changed, so Kieran must be fine having me around.

Sam told me, anyway, when he raised his wards again later that night, that me, Elle, and Lucien can come and go as we please.

"What are your plans for the evening?" Lucien asks.

I flounder for an answer. Staying here to spend time with Lucien would be nice, but he and Elle will have a lot to get on with, and I don't really want to get roped into that.

Besides, Tristan died over a week ago, and for all that everyone's worried there might be someone else pulling the strings, nothing unusual has happened since. I feel like things are beginning to settle.

Sam's face floats up in my mind and my stomach twists. I need to get him out of my head. It's not his fault he's taking up space, but maybe I can find someone else to scratch that itch.

Messing around with him is a terrible idea. I know that. He's clearly way more powerful than he's been letting on and, besides, I'm not going to do anything that might affect the happiness Lucien has found.

"Gonna just… head out," I say, getting to my feet and jerking my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the front door. "You don't need me for anything, right?"

Lucien laughs. The sound warms my chest.

There'd been a time when I thought we'd never hear him laugh again.

What I owe Kieran for that… It's a debt that's not mine to pay, maybe, but I'll try all the same.

"I do not, but Elle might," Lucien says. His eyes glitter. "You should go before she gets here."

I don't need telling twice. "Okay, bye!"

Lucien's next laugh follows me down the hallway and I slip out of his flat and the building quickly. Once I'm on the dark street, I wonder where I might go. Human clubs are fine but not what I'm looking for tonight.

A handful of clubs for supernaturals exist around the city, but I don't fancy any of the vampire-heavy ones of those, either. Being Lucien's turn—especially after everything that's happened recently—makes me recognisable.

I want…

I pull out my phone and order a taxi to take me to Bite . Sure, werewolves run it, and sure, the last time I was there, we all got into a fight with Tristan and then were dragged into a back room, but that's all water under the bridge. I hope so, anyway. It'd suck to get all that way and then have them not let me in.

When I arrive, the queue is short; the club hasn't been open for long. I join it and ignore the clearly sceptical look the wolf at the door gives me when I hand over my ID. I don't recognise him, but my eyes linger appreciatively on his shoulders before they trace over his broad chest.

"Fucking hell," he mutters. "You're not here to cause shit tonight, are you?"

"Hmmm?" I drag my eyes up to his and he raises an eyebrow. "No, of course not."

He's not quite what I'm looking for tonight, but by the quick once-over he gives me, he's not entirely out of the question.

"I promise I'll be good," I say, batting my lashes dramatically.

His chest puffs up, nostrils flaring as he scents me. I can smell him in turn, that spicy undertone all werewolves have, and my mouth waters.

Okay, maybe he could be a good choice for tonight. Not quite an anonymous fuck, but one I still probably wouldn't have to deal with after.

"Don't cause any trouble," he says and steps aside to let me in.

I grumble but make my way into the club, wondering why he gave up so quickly.

The moment the bass reverberates through my bones, I toss the thought aside.

This is what I need. The club isn't too busy yet, but there are enough people inside that I have to weave between small groups as I head over to the bar. Bite doesn't serve the spiked blood some of the vampire clubs are known for, but they have a plain bottle in the fridge, even if the wolf behind the bar wrinkles his nose when I ask for it.

Does he dislike vampires or just the smell of blood? Not my problem. I pay and take my glass, offering the wolf a smile he returns.

Maybe it's just the smell he doesn't like.

I move away from the bar and over to one of the tall tables that line this side of the dance floor. They're usually a place to chat and relax, but tonight they offer a perfect vantage point to scope out my choices. The longer I'm here, the more I think hooking up with someone might be a good idea.

After all, I helped with all that stuff with Tristan, too. Why shouldn't I get to blow off a little steam?

Once I've finished my drink, I wade onto the dance floor, which is now pretty packed. A cute human grinds up on me for a couple of songs before I drift over to a wolf whose possessive hands on my hips tell me he'd hold me down and fuck me just how I need it.

I'm about a second away from asking if he wants to get out of here before I pick up a scent that has me wrinkling my nose.

Magic.

Not just magic.

Sam's magic.

"Let's get out of here," my wolf says, and the way he presses his face against my throat has me tipping my head back with a whine.

I already know I'll say no. If Sam's here, I want to see him. I have to see him. My horniness is still riding me hard, but it's taking a backseat to this new desire.

"Not tonight, handsome," I reply.

The wolf makes an affronted sound, but I'm already slipping away, heading back towards the tables to get a better view. Music thumps in my ears, the smell of bodies and booze mixing with the undertone of Sam's magic that I can't get out of my nose.

It only takes me a second to spot him.

Sam's on the dance floor, hips swaying in the tightest pair of silver shorts I've ever seen on him. Fuck, I think I'm actually drooling as I realise he's wearing a matching silver corset, the silky shirt underneath unfastened so it spills over his bare chest.

The lights catch his tattoo and I swallow hard. The hunger I had for anyone is gone, a need to get my hands on Sam firmly replacing it, and I don't know if I want to fuck him until he screams or beg for him to bend me over, but I don't care.

Someone else moves into view, disrupting the tunnel vision I have. He's some wolf, not one I've spoken to tonight, and he wraps his arm around Sam's waist, pulling Sam back against him.

I freeze. I wait for Sam to stop, to tell him to leave, but he smiles instead, eyes a little too bright to be sober, and turns into the wolf's embrace.

Well, fuck.

I shake my head. I've missed my chance. It's probably for the best. I can't go over there. I can't—

Except I'm already walking. Before I know it, I'm on the dance floor, making my way through the crowd again, and as Sam tips his head back, grinding against the wolf behind him, I reach them.

The wolf catches my approach and growls, eyes flashing in the dim light.

Sam's reaction is the exact opposite. His face splits in a huge grin and he twists out of the wolf's arms, throwing his own around my shoulders. "Adam!" He sways on his feet. I grab his hips to keep him upright. "What're you doing here?"

Same thing as you, I don't say. Am I jealous? Maybe. I'm old enough to admit that. But I'm a little worried, too, by the way the wolf is watching us both, and I keep my hands on Sam gentle.

The wolf huffs and turns, disappearing into the crowd.

Sam blinks owlishly after him. His full lips purse into a pout and this close, I can see the sparkle of highlighter on his high cheekbones, the way it brings out the green in his hazel eyes. "Where's he goin'?" he asks.

"Probably to prey on someone else," I say, then wince. That's not fair.

Sam snorts. "We were just dancing." He looks up at me. "I wasn't gonna take him anywhere."

"It's… It's okay if you were," I say, suddenly feeling out of sorts. He doesn't need my permission. Still, Sam only grins, and yes, he's slightly drunk, but there's an uncanny perceptiveness to his expression.

"Do you want to go home?" I ask. My head's spinning, and I have no excuse for it.

"Nah." Sam leans in closer, stretching up onto his tiptoes so we're almost eye to eye. His septum piercing flashes silver in the club lights. "I came here to dance. Dance with me?"

"I—"

"You don't have to." He shrugs, but I see the disappointment in his eyes.

I tighten my grip on him. The song changes and we move together, the beat vibrating through us. Sam turns, pressing his back to my chest, and I wrap an arm around his waist, keeping him close. He doesn't seem to mind. He lets out a breath when my palm lands on his stomach—I'm surprised he can feel it through the corset at all—then laughs and grinds back against my hips.

I hiss out a curse. It's difficult to resist the urge to push back, to grind against him in turn. I can't have him. I know better.

Sam spins and looks up at me again. His eyes are big and bright, and they linger on my lips for a moment too long.

"Why'd you come over here?"

"I—What?"

"You saw me. Why'd you come over?"

"I wanted to say hello."

"Liar," Sam replies. He goes onto his tiptoes again and I plant my hand on his lower back to keep him steady. His face is flushed, sweat pricking his hairline and sending his artfully tousled blond hair awry.

"Sam…"

"Tell me not to."

I just have to say no.

The word sticks in my throat.

Sam takes it for the permission it is. He surges up and our mouths brush together. At first, it's clumsy, but then I tighten my grip, pulling him closer, and he grunts against my lips. Sam licks into my mouth needily, almost frantic with it, and I respond in kind, pulling back only to suck on his lower lip. He tastes like lightning and smoke and something I want to chase, want to own…

Sam groans, rolling his hips against mine, and I tear my mouth away as reality crashes down on me. What am I thinking? Sam's drunk and I—

He watches me with eyes gone dark, expression unreadable but for the hunger lurking there. I shake my head.

"I should take you home."

"Yeah. Okay."

Sam entwines his fingers in mine, and I tell myself I need to hold on tight so I don't lose him in the press of bodies around us. We don't speak again until we leave Bite and have walked some way down the street. We can get the bus from here, but I don't know if he wants to grab a taxi, and when I look back at him, he's chewing on his lower lip, a contemplative expression on his face.

"What is it?"

"I don't want to go home." His fingers tighten around mine for the briefest of seconds before he tugs his hand free. He fishes his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, and I'm genuinely surprised to see it fit. "I can call someone. Don't worry about it."

"No, I—Why don't you want to go home?" Has something happened? Sure, I've not known him or Kieran for long, but they seem close.

Sam pulls a face. "Drew's there now, I guess. I dunno. I didn't see him before I left. And now I'm…"

Drunk , he doesn't say, and I don't react either way. Not that I can say much. It's why I stopped kissing him.

That and the fact I know taking things further would be a terrible idea.

Still, the words are out of my mouth before I can think twice about them. "You could come back to mine."

Sam stares at me, and I hear his heart pick up. It runs fast anyway; at least, compared to Kieran's, who's the only other human I've really spent time around lately.

"What?"

"If you want, I mean. I have a flat in Lucien's district. You could go back in the morning."

I don't add that he'll be safer with me. Or, at least, I'll feel better if he is. He has to know, though. Has to be able to read it from my face.

Sam looks at me, then back at his phone. He presses the button on the side and the screen goes dark.

"Sounds like a plan," he says. "Wouldn't want to wake them up, anyway."

I fumble my phone out of my pocket and order a taxi. Sam sticks close to my side—though we don't touch—the entire ride back, and I can see him beginning to wear out. The big yawn he lets out as we reach the building is a dead giveaway.

He follows me out of the taxi and into the building's lobby, where the vampire on desk duty looks between the two of us curiously. I put a hand on Sam's lower back and steer him towards the lift as I try to ignore the heat creeping up my face. I'm old enough that I don't need to feel embarrassed.

Not that I do. Not that I should.

I press the button for my floor and Sam huffs out a laugh next to me. "You doing okay there?" he asks, voice dripping with amusement.

"Yeah, what? Why?"

"Oh, I just figured…" Sam shoots me a devastating grin. "That vampire definitely thinks we're gonna fuck, right?"

I choke on air and Sam laughs when I cough. The lift reaches my floor, and the doors open. Heat still prickles the back of my neck and though Sam isn't laughing as we walk down the hall, I see his grin out of the corner of my eye.

Who am I kidding? We both know I want to. But I'm not about to do anything if Sam's not stone-cold sober.

Sam follows me into the flat, standing by the door as I flick on the light and kick off my shoes. When I turn to look at him again, he's chewing his lower lip.

"Adam, maybe I should…"

"You wanna go home?"

"No, but…"

"What is it?"

He lets out a heavy sigh. "I shouldn't—We're not—"

"Don't worry about any of that." I walk down the hall and into the kitchen, not surprised when Sam doesn't follow. I get him a glass of water and when I join him in the hall again, he's removed his boots, at least. He's even shorter without them, and I want to gather him up and press him against me, but I resist the urge, instead pushing the glass into his hands.

"Look, you need to sleep, right?" I say. "It's not like you'll disturb me. You can take my bed and I'll settle in on the sofa."

His eyes go wide at that. "Adam, I can't—"

"You can and you will." I cross my arms over my chest. "Besides, I'll probably wake up when you leave and drag myself into the bedroom."

He takes a sip of water, and I can see his resolve weakening. "You're sure?"

God, but he's pretty when he looks up at me like that. I've never seen him unsure before, and it hits me like a punch in the gut, different to the want I've recently been feeling around him. As much as I like Sam's ability to be in charge and boss people —mostly me—around, I like that I might be able to help him, to take care of him in some small way.

"I'm sure," I say and mean it.

He searches my face for a moment. I don't know what he's looking for, but he seems to find it.

"Thanks. I'll stay."