3. Sam

Chapter three

Sam

He's on his knees before me, but there's still something so self-assured about his expression. Dark eyes never waver as magic buzzes into my hands—and he can feel it. I know he can, but he doesn't move to pull any into himself.

It crashes through me, a tidal wave of power, and I don't know where I end and it begins, but that doesn't matter.

My parents are dead because of him.

I'm not going to kill him. I want to, but my mother taught me how to bind, how to weave a net around another's power, knot it so tight he'll never be able to hurt anyone again.

Only…

Only he does reach for it. Only it's all too much. Only there's a sound behind me, a surge of someone else's power, and he panics, and I panic, and the magic pours into him, a veritable flood that turns scorching as it burns and burns and burn—

I wake with a start, a cry sticking in my throat. My head is thumping, tongue fuzzy, and the room spins when I groan and roll over.

That's when I notice I'm definitely not in my bed, though I appear to be, thankfully, alone.

I squeeze my eyes tight before I force them open. It doesn't help. I'm still shaking, and the room is pitch black. I force myself to sit up, fumbling around until I switch on a lamp that's sitting on the bedside table.

Nope. I don't recognise this room, and my heart—already racing—speeds up when I see the window is shuttered closed from the outside. Magic swirls around me, sensing my panic and pushing at my skin. I am…

Ah. I feel a familiar energy, a vampire energy, and let out a sigh, sinking back into the bed again.

Adam. The night before comes back to me all at once, though it does nothing to shake the cold feeling of the nightmare I just awoke from. Still, my cheeks heat at the thought that Adam is sleeping out in the living room like he promised, when he could've slept in here.

I wouldn't have complained. Hell, last night I'd probably have tried for more.

I shake my head, catching sight of a full glass of water on the bedside table nearest to the door. Painkillers sit next to it and something about the two objects makes me swallow hard. I didn't bring them in here, which means Adam left them, and I don't remember him doing that, which means I was asleep, and my magic didn't wake me, which means…

"Fuck," I mutter and shuffle across the bed. I fumble two of the painkillers out, taking them with a greedy drink before I drain the entire glass, and wait for the initial discomfort of my thumping head to subside.

I don't like that my nightmares are back, but there's not much to be done about them. They've been lurking ever since I realised who Nora probably was, but I've only really been experiencing them since her capture—though not that first night, thank the gods. I think I was too wiped out to dream at all.

There's no point in dwelling on them. It's not as if I don't know why they're happening. Fear. Guilt.

I think instead of the day before. Kieran told me Drew was coming, so I went to let Pris know and then to see Ophelia and Dante, to give Kieran and Drew space in the flat.

That's not all of it, of course. I'd been the one to suggest we get a few drinks, and when they'd decided to call it a night, I'd been the one to go to Bite , alone. I'd been dancing with some hot, rough-around-the-edges wolf, and Adam arrived.

We danced.

We kissed .

I press my fingers to my lips as if I'll somehow still be able to feel the phantom touch of him this morning. I wasn't too drunk last night, but the memory is fuzzy, and part of me is furious at myself for that. Our first kiss, and I can't fully recall it.

Without the drinks, though, I know I'd never have crossed that line.

Enough. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and go home. I'll meet Drew, and Adam and I will go back to whatever we were before.

I use the attached bathroom, grateful for the new toothbrush obviously set out for me, then dress quickly, wrinkling my nose at the fact that I'm putting on clothes I wore out last night. The corset is fiddly, my fingers clumsy as I deal with the last of my hangover, but when I check my reflection, I at least look somewhat presentable.

Sucks having to do a walk of shame without even having the fun that should precede it.

Moving out into the living room, I see it's not pitch black in here. The shutters are down—I'm willing to bet they cover the entire building when the sun starts to rise—but Adam's left a light on next to the sofa.

I pause when I reach him. He's fast asleep, face lax and peaceful, and I take a moment just to look my fill.

When I saw him dancing with Kieran the night we met, something drew me to him. I bite the inside of my cheek. Was that how Tristan managed to get past us all? I can't dwell on it. Besides, how was I supposed to resist? He's not smiling now, but my chest warms anyway as I trace the scattering of freckles over his nose and the soft curve of his cheek.

I want to kiss him again. Want to wake him with kisses, move my hands over him like I have every right to touch. I think he'd let me take charge, let me take care of him the way I so desperately want to, but I can't see how it would end well.

There's no chance I can tell him who I am. What I've done. I know Lucien is older and likely has a chequered past, but that's Kieran's problem, not mine. Adam is young, for a vampire, and I get the feeling he's just as good as I think he is.

I'm not. My heart clenches at how vulnerable he is, sleeping out here with me only a closed door away. He shouldn't trust me like this. Those shutters are secured, but not against magic, and it would be all too easy for me to force them open, to let the sun in and—

I bend down and brush my lips over his forehead before I can follow that thought to its inevitable, terrible conclusion. His skin is cool to the touch, and he doesn't move.

So much for him going to bed when I leave.

I don't wake him, instead leaving the flat and the building behind. When I'm halfway back to mine, I send him a text; maybe that will rouse him enough to move him off the too-short sofa and into his admittedly very comfortable bed.

Thanks for last night. All of it.

The walk clears my head, a biting morning wind chasing away the final remnants of my hangover. I get more than a few looks for what I'm wearing, but they're all more knowing than judgemental, and I can't blame anyone for that.

It's just before eleven when I make it back to our building. I let myself in and pause outside the door to our flat, listening for a moment. Kieran's and my sleeping schedules are fucked to all hell after the past few weeks, but that doesn't mean his brother won't be pottering around already, and as much as I didn't want to meet him when I was two sheets to the wind last night, I can't see how this would be a better first impression.

I can't hear anything. Maybe they're both still asleep? If so, one of them will be in the living room—probably Kieran—but I think I can sneak past.

Reaching for the magic flowing around me, I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips as it settles over my form. It's not like I've ever stopped using magic, not completely. I don't think I could. It's just that things like the wards don't stretch me all that much. I've been hiding my true self for so long that I've not been trying.

I pull a face. And that came back to bite us all in the arse, didn't it?

I unlock the door almost silently, holding my breath despite my magical shield as I step inside. The curtains are drawn, but light creeps in around the edges, and I make out the outline of a large man lying on the sofa.

That has to be him. Drew.

I close the door and lock it before I carefully remove my boots, placing them by the haphazard pile of Kieran's and my shoes. Padding across the living room, I pause next to the sofa, letting my eyes roam over Drew.

Kieran's a big guy—which isn't saying much, since just about everyone is bigger than me—but Drew is something else entirely. I smile as I imagine the argument he and Kieran probably had last night about Drew taking the sofa. He looks like he might tip off it if he moves at all.

They look alike, though. They share the same high cheekbones and square jaw, but Drew's lips are a little fuller, his brow smooth as he snores lightly. His lashes are long and dark, resting against his skin but not fully hiding the dark smudges under his eyes.

I wonder what colour his eyes are. Does he wear the same perpetually concerned frown that Kieran does?

Hopefully not. Drew moves slightly, the duvet covering him slipping down to reveal his chest. He's wearing a T-shirt, but I can still see the way the fabric stretches over his shoulders and pecs, and heat pools in my belly.

Fuck. Something distracts me, though, the magic at my fingertips twisting around to reach out for Drew's. Wolf. I glance at Kieran's bedroom door. He has to know we'll work it out. It's not like it takes a genius. I've never felt the pull of a wolf from Kieran, but I know humans don't heal the way he does, don't poison vampires the way he has.

I shake my head. All this does is confirm what I already thought I knew. I stalk away from the sofa, crossing into my room. Between Adam last night and Drew right now, I need to get my head on straight.

I snatch up some clothes and walk into the bathroom, still using magic to shield myself and the noise I make while I'm in there. I don't want to wake Drew, not with how tired I imagine he is, and I need the time, the space.

The shower helps in that it washes the club off me, but my thoughts still spin as I dress and rub most of the water out of my hair. I swipe condensation off the mirror and study myself for a moment. Without the makeup I was wearing last night, I look younger, and despite the sleep I got, my hazel eyes are dull and tired. I slap on moisturiser, resolving to go through an actual skincare routine later tonight, then throw my dirty clothes into the wash basket before I open the door, a cloud of steam billowing out into the living room behind me.

When I see Drew is sitting up, the curtains partially open behind him, I jerk to a stop, pulling the towel away from my head. Damp strands of dark blond hair fall in my eyes, and I push them back in irritation.

Drew's eyes are wide and run over me like my presence surprises him. He's even prettier awake, and his eyes are so dark they seem black.

Did Kieran not tell him about me? Or was he expecting something else?

"Hey," I say when I realise I've been standing there gawking for far too long. "I don't know if Kieran told you about me. I'm Sam."

Drew sits up straighter. When he pushes the duvet aside and stands, I see he's only wearing boxers with his tight T-shirt, and I force my eyes up. That means I see the softness of his belly and the way his muscles shift as he moves, which doesn't really help.

Fuck, but he's tall, too. I swallow hard, tipping my head back as Drew approaches and sticks out his hand.

How polite.

I want to climb him like a tree.

I shake his hand, subtly moving the towel I'm holding in the other, so it drapes over the front of my hips.

"I'm Drew."

His handshake belies his size; it's terribly gentle, as though he's afraid he might break me. He'll learn I'm tougher than that. I smile in return, though it's little more than a twist of my lips. "Well, I'm glad. I'd have been worried if you said you were someone else."

Drew takes a step back when he lets go, shooting a worried look between me and the door to Kieran's room. "Kieran told you about me?"

"He told me you were coming." Trusting that I've got things under control, I rub the towel over my hair again, temporarily hiding Drew from view. "I should let you get cleaned up."

"I didn't hear you come in."

I blink at the non sequitur and move the towel, looking up at him. "What?"

Drew flushes, a pretty pink flooding his cheeks as he drops his eyes. I swallow hard, cock stirring in my shorts again. Well, shit.

"Sorry, I just didn't expect—I thought I would hear you come in."

I tilt my head to one side. Sudden anger flares inside me, but it's all aimed at Kieran. He should've told me. Then panic wouldn't be filling Drew's gaze, like he's already let too much slip.

It's not his fault his brother's keeping a secret.

"I'm quiet on my feet," I say with a shrug, keeping my voice even. Drew's shoulders loosen slightly. "And I didn't want to disturb you after I was out all night. It's a lot, coming to London for the first time. Must've been a big day yesterday."

"Yeah," Drew says. Relief soaks his voice and I smile again. Has Kieran told Drew I can do magic? "Yeah, I guess that was it."

The door to Kieran's room opens and he steps out mid-yawn, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He blinks blearily at the two of us and I snort a laugh.

"Drew, Sam. Sam, Drew," he mutters, waving a hand as he walks past us and towards the kitchen.

I sling the towel around my shoulders and follow, pausing at the other side of the counter.

Behind me, Drew makes a choked sound, and I can't help my grin.

Oh, I'm not the only one looking.

Kieran looks at him sharply, then rolls his eyes. "Which ones today?"

I laugh and turn so Kieran can see how now, a rat? written across the arse of my shorts. He lets out a long-suffering sigh and I turn back to him with a shrug.

"And here you are complaining when I take your hoodies! I can't win with you."

Kieran huffs before he clatters around the kitchen, grabbing three mugs and flicking the kettle on.

"That's a thought," he says. "Watch out for your clothes, Drew. If Sam gets cold, he'll nick them."

I look back, only to see that Drew is bright red and looking anywhere but at me. I bite my lip to keep in the laugh that threatens to bubble up.

"So how was last night?" Kieran says as he starts making us tea.

My good mood doesn't entirely vanish, but it's definitely dampened.

"Fine."

Kieran snorts. "You didn't come home."

"Like I said, it was fine ."

I'm not getting into it. It's one thing that I kissed Adam, what with Adam being Lucien's turn and Lucien being Kieran's… I don't know. Boyfriend, I guess, though it feels like more than that.

I have no doubt that Kieran will know I stayed over at Adam's soon. It's not really an issue—even if something had happened between us, it's not like it's Kieran's business.

It's just… All of it. I kissed Adam, even if Kieran doesn't know it. Kieran might be human, but his brother certainly isn't, and that means I think Kieran isn't either and has been hiding it from us. Plus, I can't stop thinking about how fucking pretty Drew is, even though it's so clear he's running from something, I could scream.

I really need to take a good, hard look at myself.

Maybe tomorrow.

"Hmm, I bet," Kieran says. He passes me my tea with the smug look of someone who's now getting laid regularly, though maybe that one's just my imagination.

"Dickhead," I mutter into my cup.

Kieran laughs. He pushes another mug into Drew's hands, then breezes past him to throw himself onto the sofa.

Drew looks between the two of us, big doe eyes still wide.

I groan in the safety of my head. What am I going to do about this?