Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ozen hadn’t found the time to research his reactions to Avery before his friends requested that he join them for a drink the following evening, and it wasn’t so important that he felt it needed to be addressed immediately. It felt more like a constant nagging in the back of his mind, a curiosity that he wouldn’t be able to let go of until he figured out what made Avery so special.

Maverick and Taron were waiting, along with Dorian, who ran the technology division of Spellbound in the building adjacent to the main one. Ozen was the last to arrive, which meant only one thing.

“Drinks are on you, my friend,” Taron said with a gleeful expression. Ozen nearly rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I’m aware of the rules. Don’t gloat.”

Taron’s grin never wavered, and he wiggled his eyebrows just to taunt Ozen. His bright red eyebrows. Not copper, like natural hair, but red like the primary color. They matched his hair, which was oddly spiky and short.

“Strange addition this time,” Ozen commented.

Maverick snorted and took a healthy swallow of his whiskey before agreeing. “I told him that when we got here. He refuses to see reason.”

“My niece chose it. She’s into these cartoon shows and the characters all have wild hair. I am nothing if not a doting uncle who doesn’t mind playing a guinea pig,” Taron defended himself.

“How did she blackmail you?” Dorian asked. He was the only one without a drink. The alcohol would go straight through him, which as he’d explained, wasn’t pleasant. Therefore, Dorian didn’t drink often. Vampires were some of the few supernatural species that couldn’t consume regular food. Their sustenance only came from blood. His feeder was a spoiled little man, but at least he was diligent in showing up for feedings and cared enough about his paycheck to be on time.

The waitress came to get Ozen’s drink order while Taron tried to pretend he wasn’t being forced to keep his hair that way. Taron liked to experiment and would sometimes choose odd additions just to get attention, but this was out of the norm for him. He wanted attention, not embarrassment.

“Maybe we should start inviting Brennus to these little get-togethers. That way, you won’t be so tempted to lie to us,” Maverick threatened.

“You wouldn’t,” Taron gasped.

Brennus wasn’t a bad person. However, it was impossible to lie in front of a griffin, which could make some conversations tedious. It did make him the best person to run the supernatural resources department. If there was conflict, he’d get to the bottom of it faster than anyone else.

“I might. Unless there is something you’d like to tell us,” Ozen offered.

Taron’s shoulders slumped, defeated. “Alright, fine. She found some pictures on my phone. If I don’t want the entire world, namely my mother, to find out, I had to agree to be her doll for the week. And that’s as much as I’ll tell you.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and Ozen knew the conversation would go no further. Taron was stubborn when he wanted to be. But it wouldn’t stop Ozen from asking later when they were alone. They were each other’s confidants since childhood. Some things they only shared with each other.

“Changing the subject,” Taron said petulantly before turning to face Ozen. “How is it going with Avery? You’re looking much better.”

Ozen nodded once, accepting his wine from the waitress. “It is going well. He is professional, courteous, and incredibly diligent.”

“Diligent, how?” Taron asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Ozen gave him a flat look. “I have no interest in sharing details with you. But that wasn’t what I was referring to. Our session was pushed on Friday because of the Calvin business, and Avery made sure I was fed before the weekend. He genuinely cares for my well being, which is far more than I could say for any of my other feeders. Not since Tristan.”

“Finding a good feeder is difficult. You have been unlucky lately. It’s about time you found someone decent,” Dorian said.

Ozen agreed. His luck very nearly got him killed. Or worse, made him feral. It felt worse to lose your mind to the bloodlust than to succumb to death. Ozen didn’t want to hurt people, even by accident.

“What’s this Calvin business?” Dorian asked after a moment.

Annoyance made Ozen scowl, but he explained the details to his friend anyway. It was important that Dorian knew the story in case it was a new tactic amongst feeders to get their way. Some of them gathered in groups to gossip and discuss their contracts. Ozen thought those groups were more trouble than they were worth.

Dorian bared his fangs in a hiss when Ozen described his brush with starvation. He, more than any of their other friends, understood what it was like to be reliant on another to survive.

“Is he still alive?”

“Alive and causing trouble,” Maverick answered with a growl. “He’s trying to sue Ozen for having him blacklisted.”

Just the memory of what Calvin did made Ozen’s stomach clench. He almost considered calling Avery for a quick feed. He wouldn’t. It wasn’t professional to bother him on weekends, but the weekend felt too long now that he’d had regular feedings. He hadn’t had daily feedings in years. He tried to stretch it out a few days with his other feeders, since the task had become tedious.

“How did you get out of the contract in time?” Dorian asked. “I would think he would draw it out to continue your punishment.”

“Avery,” Ozen answered. “He pointed out that the contract was voided when Calvin refused to show up to do his job. I never once fed from Calvin. It was also Avery who fed me and saved my life.”

Dorian whistled, and Taron nodded. “That’s how I responded, too. If Ozen let Avery leave without asking him to be a feeder, I would have approached him myself. You can’t buy that kind of loyalty.”

Maverick grunted his own agreement. “He is a good match. He changed the contract to make the playing field more equal. It included several fail-safes in case Avery wasn’t around to feed Ozen in time.”

“You’ve hit the jackpot, my friend,” Dorian exclaimed. “Do what you can to keep him. I’ve never met a feeder willing to even the playing field. It was always skewed in their favor.”

Ozen wasn’t going to argue. He would do his level best to keep Avery happy and in his employ. The idea of losing him… Ozen almost wanted to panic at the thought. He needed Avery. No one else fed him as well as Avery could.

When Maverick stepped outside to answer a call and Taron went to the bathroom, Ozen decided it was a good opportunity to ask Dorian about his experiences with Avery. Vampires didn’t need desire to feed, but there might be some similarities in his experiences with feeders.

“Dorian. Have you ever had a feeder who felt more… potent than the others?”

Dorian frowned, considering him. “Potent how?”

“It takes considerably less for Avery to feed me. With my other feeders, it took longer, and there had to be full penetration for me to feel satisfied.”

“And you don’t need to do this with Avery?”

Ozen shook his head. “No. He’s inexperienced, so we’ve been taking it slow. We haven’t moved to full penetration. And yet, I’m better fed than I ever have been before. I don’t understand it. Do you think his lack of experience has something to do with it?”

“Well… it doesn’t with vampires,” he replied thoughtfully. “There was once the belief that virgins were better to feed from, but that was proved to be a myth centuries ago. I’m not sure if it’s different for incubi. Have you ever fed from a virgin before?”

Over the years, those who fed him started to blur together. It was hard to pick out just one. “I’m sure it happened a time or two in my past. I can’t be certain. I never kept track.”

“Well, let's assume for the time being that you have. You weren’t as picky when you were younger, so I’m sure it’s occurred before. If you can’t remember a time where a feeder felt more potent, it’s safe to say Avery’s inexperience has nothing to do with it. What is his species? Is it something new for you?”

“He’s human,” Ozen answered. “No magic, to my knowledge, but I haven’t looked into his family line. There hasn’t been a new species for me in generations, and I’ve fed from humans before. They were nothing special.”

Dorian listened and nodded, his brow furrowed as he considered Ozen’s puzzlement.

“Are you worried it’s a spell? Something intended to harm you?”

“No,” Ozen said quickly. “I check before each session. He hasn’t been influenced in any way. Nothing jumps out at me that makes him different from any other human, so I don’t understand why being with him feels so intense.”

Dorian leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes squinted in concentration. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, either. Have you done any research?”

“Not yet. Things have been busy, and this Calvin issue only makes things worse.”

Dorian scowled at the reminder. “Well, I would do some research. It might be species specific. Either on your side or his. I’ll help, since you’re overloaded. I always liked puzzles.”

Ozen gave him a flat look. He didn’t appreciate his personal troubles being used as a source of entertainment for his friends. It’s why he hadn’t brought it up to Taron. The shapeshifter would never let it go.

Taron returned before they could discuss it any more, and Dorian didn’t seem inclined to share the conversation, which Ozen appreciated. They moved on to more neutral topics. Taron’s consideration to gender swap was given suggestions, like trying it out for a few days before making the commitment to expend that kind of magical energy. Maverick’s continued troubles with smoke damage in his home. Dorian’s mother’s demand that he settle down within the next century. It was nice to speak with his friends without the stress of work. They shared a few drinks, helped each other with troubles, and just enjoyed each other’s company.

When the night ended, Ozen was feeling relaxed. Relaxed and, unfortunately, hungry. He tried to brush it off, choosing to walk home instead of calling his driver to pick him up. The distraction only worked long enough for Ozen to figure out which direction he needed to go before his mind wandered back to his hunger.

He’d thought the effects of his two-week starvation were gone. Perhaps he’d been too hasty. Daily feedings helped considerably, but they also masked the damage. His body still needed more time to recover. At least, that was the excuse he was giving himself as he called the number Avery had given him on his first day in the office.

“Hello?”

“Avery. Are you free?”

“Free for what?” he asked. Avery sounded a little distracted, and Ozen thought perhaps it wasn’t a good time, but now that he had Avery on the phone, he was reluctant to give up on the venture.

“For a session. I thought perhaps I would be back to normal by now, but–”

“Oh!” There was a clatter on the other line, and Avery sounded more alert now that Ozen had his attention. “Absolutely, Mr. Hawksley! Sorry, I thought– Nevermind, I was distracted. Yes, I’m free. Is there somewhere you’d like to meet? I know you said your home was off limits to maintain professionalism. Is my place under that same rule?”

His eagerness made Ozen smile. Normally, if he wasn’t in the office, he preferred to rent a room at a hotel. However, curiosity burned at him and Ozen found himself saying, “Your place is fine. Send me the address.”

Avery lived far enough away that Ozen had to call his driver. While he waited, he considered the situation. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone to a feeder’s home for a session, but it wasn’t the norm for him, especially in the last few hundred years. He established his rules a long time ago to better protect himself. His only excuse for ignoring them for Avery was because he hoped to better understand Avery’s potency if he got to know him better. Perhaps his apartment held some sort of clue.