Wounded Soul

by Annabelle Jacobs

  Instead Raph leant back on his hands, seemingly unaffected by Peter’s attitude, but Jesse recognised the signs. They’d been friends before Raph became coven leader, and he’d seen what could happened when Raph got that look in his eye.

  Not wanting to get in the middle of it, he carried on unloading the blood. But kept them both in sight, not wanting to miss anything either.

  “Our agreement with the VLCD prevents us from being killed just for existing.” Raph tapped his fingernails on the table, the sound loud in the suddenly quiet room. “I, for one, rather enjoy not having a target on my back. And not having to be on guard all the fucking time in case someone decides to kill us all while we sleep.” He stood, and Jesse saw Peter tense out of the corner of his eye. “There will always be some that know about us. Always. No matter how secretive we try to be. The VLCD doesn’t just protect the humans from being fed on.” He advanced on Peter until they were almost touching. “It protects us from would-be hunters. How can you not see that as a good thing?”

  “At what cost though?” Peter hissed the words. “Forced to feed on microwaved blood. Tagged like animals.” He pulled his sleeve back, jabbing a finger at the ID bracelet he wore. “With these fucking things monitoring our every move?” He towered over Raph by a good four inches, but their coven leader was one of the strongest vampires Jesse had come across. With jet black hair, pale skin, and high cheekbones, his angelic features masked a monster inside if you forced him to unleash it.

  “Weren’t you tired of all the killing?” Raph asked softly. “Didn’t you feel any guilt as you watched the life drain out of their eyes just so you could feed?”

  Peter remained silent. And that was the crux of it right there. Jesse had seen him feed on humans, too many times to count.

  Peter enjoyed it.

  “You know,” Raph went on, still in that same soft tone. “If you object so much to the way our coven is run, there are plenty of covens out there who don’t have agreements with the VLCD.”

  In other words, if you don’t like it, leave.

  Jesse stopped what he was doing and stared, gaze flicking between the two of them. As far as he was aware, this was the first time Raph had suggested Peter find an alternative coven. For all his bitching about the way they did things these days, Jesse didn’t think Peter wanted to leave. He had too many friends here, and besides, some of the other covens had reputations that made Jesse sick to his stomach. Even Peter, with all his bravado and lust for blood, would be almost lamb-like in comparison. Jesse watched the emotions flicker across Peter’s face.

  No . . . what he wants is this coven how it used to be, preferably with a new leader.

  The thought of Peter in charge sent a shudder through him.

  As the silence ventured into uncomfortable territory, Peter ran a hand through his blond hair. “Sorry, Raph.” He even managed to look apologetic. Jesse was impressed. “I’m tired and hungry and not thinking clearly. I’ve no wish to leave the coven, and I apologise for questioning coven rules.” He gave a slight bow of his head as a sign of respect, and Jesse wondered if he might mean it this time. Perhaps the thought of having to leave was enough of a kick up the arse to get him to behave?

  Jesse hoped so.

  “Apology accepted.” Raph smiled, then turned to Jesse. “Keep an eye out for Lys. Let me know immediately if there’s a problem.”

  “Of course.” Jesse watched him walk out of the door, then finished putting the rest of the blood in the freezer.

  “You want one?” he asked, turning to face Peter and opening the fridge at the same time.

  Peter’s expression was hard to read, but he nodded, so Jesse grabbed two packs of blood and took them over to the microwave.

  Artificially warmed blood didn’t have the same delicious edge to it as blood straight from the source, but Jesse would take it any day if it meant he didn’t have to kill anyone. Raph’s words had hit home, with Jesse anyway. He had been tired of all the killing, sick of the guilt that plagued him each time he fed. He wasn’t alone in feeling that way, and the majority of their coven had been relieved when an agreement was reached with the VLCD.

  He glanced at his wrist while he waited for the microwave to finish, eyeing the tracking bracelet. Some rules were harder to accept than others, but it was a compromise Jesse would willingly make. The microwave dinged and Jesse turned to get two cups out of the cabinet behind him.

  They drank in silence, Peter seeming to stare at nothing in particular, and Jesse watching the ever-lightening sky. Pulling his phone out, he frowned at the time. 4.42am. Hopefully Lys had left by now. Sunrise would be in a little over an hour. Plenty of time to get home, barring any problems with the roads, but unease crept into his belly and would stay there until she walked through the door.

  Lys was his family. She reminded him a lot of the sister he’d lost years ago, before he became a vampire, and the thought of anything happening to her was unbearable.

  “Are you seeing him again?” Peter’s voice broke through the silence.

  Jesse had almost forgotten he was still there.

  “Who?” he asked, not looking away from the window.

  “The human you fucked tonight.”

  That got his attention. His head snapped around and he narrowed his eyes at Peter. “What business is it of yours?”

  Peter smirked, his confrontation with Raph seemingly forgotten as his confidence apparently returned. “I’m looking out for our coven. Wouldn’t want you to be taking any unnecessary risks, not when you can get all the sex you want without leaving the house.” He widened his stance, pushing his hips forward slightly, and despite his best efforts not to, Jesse couldn’t help but glance down at his crotch.

  He looked away quickly, but Peter’s huff of laughter told him he’d noticed.

  Fuck.

  Standing, Jesse placed his empty mug in the sink and walked over to the window, putting some distance between them. “I might see him again, I haven’t decided.” I’m definitely seeing him again. “I know how to be discreet,” he added. “I would never jeopardise our coven by revealing myself.” Jesse wasn’t one of the ones they needed to worry about in that respect, and Peter knew it.

  “I don’t understand why you have to go looking for release when you can get what you need right here?” Peter’s voice had turned soft, seductive.

  After all these years together, Jesse was immune. “You mean with you?”

  “If you want.”

  Jesse rolled his eyes and shook his head. Not fucking likely.

  The slight breeze was all the warning he got before Peter was practically plastered to his back.

  Jesse flinched, meeting Peter’s reflection in the glass. “I thought you’d have learnt to take no for an answer by now.”

  “Why would I do that?” Peter shrugged and put his hands on Jesse’s hips, pressing closer, his hard-on unmistakeable. “When I’m usually strong enough to take what I want anyway.”

  Such a fucking wanker.

  “Not this time.” Lightning quick, Jesse grabbed one of Peter’s hands, spun around, and slammed him face first into the glass, tugging his arm up painfully high behind his back. Leaning in close like Peter had, he whispered, “If you try that again, I’m going to report you to Raph. If I hear that you’ve done it to anyone else—and that includes humans—I’m gonna report you to Raph. You know how he feels about abusers.”

  Raph’s childhood wasn’t something he ever talked about, but his meal of choice after being turned was enough to fill in the blanks—mainly people convicted of sex offences, domestic violence, and child abuse. Didn’t take a genius to work things out. Jesse wasn’t surprised when Peter started to rapidly back track.

  “What? I haven’t abused you. If anyone’s doing the abusing right now, it’s—”

  Jesse slammed him into the glass again and pulled his arm up until the bone snapped. Peter’s cry of pain was quickly followed by a string of curses.

  “Fucking hell, Jesse, what’
s your problem?” Peter hissed as Jesse let him go. He rubbed his arm as it healed and turned to glare at Jesse, fangs fully out. Thoroughly pissed off then.

  “You. You’re my problem.” Jesse rolled his shoulders, trying to calm down. A full-on fight wasn’t what he needed right then, but sometimes Peter pushed his buttons too fucking hard. “I’m sick and tired of having to tell you no. Take the fucking hint already.”

  “You used to be such fun, Jesse. I remember a time when no meant try harder, Peter.”

  “Only in your head.”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed, still absently rubbing at his now-healed arm. “It’s serious with the human?”

  “What? No!” Why did there have to be someone else involved? Why couldn’t he just accept that Jesse didn’t want him. “This is nothing to do with anyone else. I’m not getting involved with you again. So just stop. Please.”

  Peter stared at him for a good long while, and Jesse hoped he was actually taking him seriously for once. But then he smirked, and Jesse growled with frustration.

  “We have a lifetime ahead of us.” Peter dared take a step closer, and Jesse clenched his fists. “I’m not asking you to marry me.” Laughing, he then licked his fangs, gaze raking over Jess’s body. “Just blow jobs and fucking.” He darted close enough to palm Jesse’s crotch but was back over by the door before Jesse could react.

  Jesse snarled, his own fangs dropping down.

  “Oh fine,” Peter drawled, enjoying himself now he was out of reach. “I can throw in some rimming. I know how much you like that.” He made an obscene gesture with his tongue.

  For a second Jesse was tempted to rush across the room and wipe that smug smile off his face. Permanently. He wondered if the punishment for killing a coven member would be worth it.

  Tempting.

  Oh so tempting.

  But Lys would kill him for letting Peter get to him again, and he wasn’t prepared to incite her wrath. Instead he turned back to the window and ignored him.

  Peter hated to be ignored. “I don’t mind waiting, Jesse.” His voice had an edge to it despite the softness, and it was Jesse’s turn to smirk.

  “Good. Because you’ll be waiting a long fucking time.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Always had to have the last word.

  Irritated as he was, Jesse bit his tongue to avoid replying and keeping him engaged. Less than a minute later, he was rewarded with a huff and then a swish of air as Peter left to find someone else to harass.

  Leaning against the cool glass, Jesse stared outside, eyes straining to see the tell-tale flash of headlights. “Come on, Lys,” he muttered, pulling his phone out to check the time again. 5.40am.

  Fuck. Where are you?

  If his heart still beat, it’d be racing by now. As it was, panic gripped him, tightening his chest.

  She was cutting it far too fine.

  Glancing at his phone again, he debated calling her. She wouldn’t answer while driving—not worth the risk of attracting police attention—but fuck it. He called her anyway.

  She answered after the first ring. “I’m almost home.”

  “Thank fuck.” He peeled his fingers from the window sill, wincing at the indentations he’d left there. “I was worried.”

  “Mhmm.” She huffed. “Obviously not that worried if you’re only calling me now.”

  Headlights came into view and Jesse smiled into the phone. “I had to deal with some unpleasant business first.”

  Laughter met his words. “Let me guess . . . Peter?”

  “What gave it away?” He rested his head against the glass, watching her speed past the house to the parking area.

  “It’s always fucking Peter.” He heard her turn off the engine. “Put me some blood to warm, and I’ll let you tell me all about it.”

  “Hurry,” he whispered, noting the sky already getting lighter but smiling into the phone.

  Bitching to Lys was just what he needed.

  Maybe they could talk about Ian too. Memories of a warm solid body filled his head, and he closed his eyes.

  There was something about him . . .

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ian woke to the incessant buzzing of his front door.

  Groaning, he pulled his pillow over his face and let out a sigh. Who the fuck was outside his flat at—he checked his phone—10.30 on a Sunday morning? And fine, maybe it was later than he’d first thought, but still. The two texts on his screen gave him a fair idea.

  Unlocking his phone, he typed back an answer to Cate.

  Well I wasn’t but obv I’m awake now. And no, he left last night. And ffs use your bloody key!

  Thankfully the buzzing stopped and Ian heard his door unlock. He didn’t bother getting out of bed though; she’d seen him in worse states, and he was comfy and warm.

  “Hey, you lazy bastard,” Cate called as she walked through to his bedroom. Leaning on the door frame, she scanned the room, smirk appearing as she noted the way his clothes were strewn over the floor. “Good night, then?”

  “It was all right.” Ian shrugged, but his smile gave him away. At Cate’s raised eyebrow, he rolled his eyes and added, “Yeah, it was good.”

  “Seeing him again?” Perching on the side of the bed next to him, she waited for him to sit up, then handed him one of the Starbucks coffees she’d been carrying.

  “Thank you.” Ian popped off the lid and inhaled. “What have I done to deserve breakfast in bed?” He eyed the paper bag she held in her other hand. “That’s assuming something in there’s for me?” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, which of course she ignored, laughing.

  “Like that’s ever worked on me.” Cate opened the bag and handed him a still-warm croissant. “And Blake texted me this morning, said he had news. Said to meet here at eleven. Thought I’d come over earlier and check you were alone.” She frowned. “Didn’t he text you too?”

  “I don’t know, maybe.” Ian reached for his phone, feeling a little weird about Blake coming over. The thought of seeing him still caused his stomach to flutter, but his bed still smelt of Jesse, and that made him kind of uncomfortable.

  “What’s wrong with your face?” Cate reached over and poked his cheek as Ian found Blake’s text.

  “Nothing.” He held up his phone. “Found it.” It said virtually the same as what Cate had told him.

  They ate in silence for a moment, but he felt Cate’s gaze on him.

  Eventually she set her croissant on top of the bag. “Um, Ian . . .”

  He looked up to find her grimacing slightly. “What?”

  “I may have told Blake that you took someone home last night.” She waited, watching for his reaction. “That’s okay, right?”

  Swallowing his mouthful, Ian closed his eyes for a moment, trying to sort out how he felt. Weird still seem to be the best descriptor. “What did he say?”

  Her expression softened, and Ian braced himself. “He said, ‘Good for him. ’Bout time he got some action.’ He sounded really happy for you,” she added, as though that was a good thing.

  Ian blew out a breath and sat there for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. He hadn’t expected Blake to be wracked with jealousy or anything, but . . . Fuck that, he’d thought he might at least be a little jealous. The fact that he wasn’t the least bit bothered hammered home how he really didn’t see Ian like that. At all.

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” he said when Cate was starting to look anxious. “I’m not bothered that you told him.” He ate the rest of his breakfast in two bites and reached for his coffee.

  “You sure?” She threw the empty bag in the bin and turned to look at him. “Because you kinda look a bit pissed off.” She waved a finger at his face.

  Was he frowning? Maybe. “Fine. I thought he might’ve been a bit jealous of me taking someone home. I should’ve known better.”

  She reached out and gave his knee a squeeze, then grinned at him. “You really fucking should. I love him, but he’s an insensitive arsehole sometimes and
you deserve better.”

  He shook his head at her but found himself smiling at her bluntness. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

  She shrugged. “He already knows.”

  Ian didn’t know if she was referring to Blake being an arsehole or Ian deserving better. He was saved from asking by the door buzzing again. “Go let him in, would you?” Normally Blake would just use his key, like he had for the front of the building. Apparently the thought of Ian having someone there had given him pause.

  Cate stood and looked down at him. “Okay, but you might want to get up and put some clothes on. Unless you want me to bring him back in here?”

  He glanced down at the rumpled sheets and the crumpled tissues on the floor near the bin—which Cate hadn’t spotted, thank God. “No. Go wait in the lounge, I’ll be there in a sec.”

  She shut the door behind her, and Ian rubbed a hand over his eyes.

  Of course he didn’t get to laze in bed and enjoy the post-sex ache of well-used muscles. Of course!

  Voices in the hallway spurred him into action.

  Five minutes later he was dressed and had cleaned his teeth. That was as much as he could be arsed to do.

  With a deep breath, he opened his bedroom door and headed to the lounge.

  Hopefully no one would bring up last night.

  As soon as he entered the room, Blake turned and grinned at him. “I hear you got lucky last night?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Cate said he was hot too.”

  Ian smirked, feeling a little smug. “Yeah, he was.” He was almost tempted to show Blake Jesse’s picture, but he refrained.

  To Ian’s surprise, things didn’t feel as awkward as he’d expected. Blake took the piss exactly as he normally would, and Ian found himself relaxing into their easy banter.

  He pointed a finger at Blake. “Pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who pulled last night.”

  “Meh. We swapped blowjobs in his car. I didn’t take him home or anything.”