Wounded Soul

by Annabelle Jacobs

  Jesse hoped it worked. The last coven leader had stepped down amicably, but it wasn’t always that way. Jesse had only seen a full coven revolt once since he’d been turned—too green to the life to be involved or offer an opinion—and it had been violent and bloody. Coven members had died at the hands of each other. No matter how much Peter pissed him off sometimes, he didn’t want that.

  “What about the VLCD visit?” he asked, wanting to change the topic before his mind ventured to places he’d rather it didn’t. “Do you need any help with that?”

  Raph grinned, the seriousness from before gone in an instant. “Funny you should ask . . .”

  “I hate you, Jesse,” Lys whispered from beside him, and the gleam in Raph’s eye made him wish he’d held his tongue.

  “That blood you brought in last night, or this morning should I say, needs to be logged and the invoices filed.”

  “Okay.” That didn’t sound all that bad.

  “And I’d also like you both to check the paper work for the last six months, since their last visit. All the blood we’ve had needs to be properly accounted for. I don’t want to give them any cause for further investigation.”

  Jesse groaned. Six months of paperwork? That was gonna suck. “Fine,” he muttered.

  “I know it’s not the best job in the world, but I need people I can trust to do a thorough job.” Jesse felt slightly appeased. “The VLCD are just waiting for us to slip up, and I need this inspection to go off without a hitch.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “THAT’S IT FOR the blood you brought in last night.” Lys closed the door on the fridge-freezer and pulled herself up onto one of the tables, swinging her legs underneath. “So,” she began, and Jesse knew what was coming next. “When are you seeing Ian again?”

  “Lys.” He gave her a sharp look, then glanced towards the open door.

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid. Everyone’s either gone out or hiding away in their very soundproofed rooms. Except Raph, and he’s in his office. With the door shut.” She waved a hand at him. “Listen for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  Not that he didn’t trust her senses, but just to satisfy his own mind, Jesse closed his eyes and listened to the rest of the house. The murmurs and creaks of the old building were the only sounds that met his ears, along with what sounded like . . . “I think we might have mice.”

  Lys laughed. “Yeah, I agree.”

  Not that they’d find any food in these cupboards.

  But she was right regarding the rest of their coven. Jesse wondered where Peter had gone and who with. Was he already trying to sway coven members to his way of thinking? He shuddered at the thought.

  “Have you called him yet?” Lys persisted.

  “Who says I’m going to?”

  “Oh, come on,” she leant back on her hands, staring at him. “When was the last time you told me about someone you had sex with.”

  “I think told is a bit of a stretch,” he muttered dryly. “More like you smelt him on me and badgered me until I gave in.”

  She huffed and started to tick things off on her fingers. “Firstly, you made no effort to hide his scent. You could’ve gone back to the flat and showered, but no, you liked it on you.”

  “I’d also been running late to meet you.”

  “Because you didn’t want to leave his bed.”

  Okay, that part was true. Lying next to Ian’s solid, warm body and listening to the hypnotic rhythmic beat of his heart had been hard to walk away from. He gave a non-committal grunt instead.

  “Secondly, usually when I quiz you about your sex life, you either ignore me, change the subject, or say it was okay, nothing special.” She poked him with the toe of her shoe. “So tell me, what’s so special about this one?”

  Jesse put the invoices down on the worktop, picking at the edges to avoid facing Lys.

  He hadn’t realised it at first. Hadn’t seen the similarities that were staring him in the face, but walking back from Raph’s office, it had suddenly hit him. “He reminds me of Callum.”

  Callum Stewart.

  My best friend and secret lover.

  Silence.

  For a minute Jesse wondered if she’d forgotten what he’d told her so many years ago. But then she slid down from the table and walked over to put her arms around him, her head against his chest. “Oh, Jesse.”

  They stayed like that for a while. Neither of them saying anything.

  Jesse didn’t want to, and Lys was probably holding back because she knew he wouldn’t like what she had to say.

  Finally she drew back far enough to look him in the eye. “You know what I’m going to tell you, right?”

  “Yes.” Jesse looked away. “You’re going to say it’s too dangerous and that I should stop it now before it goes any further. That I should forget I ever met him.”

  “Well, I was gonna suggest you fuck him one last time, then call it a day, but your way works too.”

  “Lys—”

  “No, Jesse.” She covered his mouth with her hand. “I know how you felt about Callum. I remember the pain you still held with you after you turned. Do you really want to dredge all that up again?”

  “It’s not like that, though.” He struggled to put it into words. “Yes, Ian reminds me of Callum, but he’s not a carbon copy. Certain things are similar enough that I have to remind myself it’s not him, but then they’re different in a lot of ways too. Honestly, I know it’s not him. You don’t have to worry.”

  Lys appeared totally unconvinced. “Tell me what he looks like?”

  “About my height, dark hair—short but kind of messy on top.”

  “Tousled?” She grinned and Jesse rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, whatever. Anyway, he’s got blue eyes. Um . . .”

  “Strong jawline, slim, with broad shoulders?”

  “Yes.” Jesse cracked his neck from side to side. “That could describe plenty of guys though.” He sounded defensive to his own ears.

  “It could. And Callum would be one of them.”

  “Fine. That might have attracted me to him in the first place, but that’s where the similarities end. They’re nothing alike in personality. Ian’s out and proud, confident in a way Callum could only dream about.”

  “Because you weren’t allowed to be that way,” she said softly.

  “No. We weren’t.” Jesse closed his eyes for a second, Callum’s face easy to recall, and he let himself remember for just a moment. “But that was almost sixty-four years ago. We change, and we move on.”

  “I still think you need to be careful. Getting involved with humans can turn messy.”

  “It’s been one night. We’re not involved.” Jesse wanted out of this conversation already. Touched as he was by Lys’s concern, he didn’t need or want her advice on this.

  Maybe something in his tone warned her off, because she raised her hands. “Fine. I’ll trust that you know what you’re doing and won’t mention it again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just don’t make me regret it.”

  Jesse barely refrained from another eye-roll. “I’ll do my best.”

  Lys checked the time on her phone and grimaced. “Shit. I need to be at work soon.” She glanced at the fridge, then back at Jesse. “We’re done here for now, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah,” Jesse waved her towards the door. “You go get ready. We can start on the other paperwork tomorrow or the day after.”

  “Oh joy.” She gave him a wave and headed through the door.

  Finally alone, Jesse tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and let the memories of last night flood his brain. He’d meant what he said. On the surface Ian did bear a remarkable likeness to Callum, but other than that, they were like chalk and cheese. Some of that may be due to the world they lived in, but the fact remained, when he’d been with Ian, he hadn’t once thought about Callum. Only later, after he’d been in his room and seen the photo did
his subconscious put two and two together.

  But it was just sex—hot and incredible—but nothing more. He could do the detachment needed for this type of thing, despite what Lys thought. A repeat performance with Ian wasn’t going to make him careless, or worse, make him fall in love with a human.

  Pulling out his phone, he typed out a quick message to Ian.

  Hey, it’s Jesse, from last night. Fancy meeting up Friday or Saturday night?

  Hopefully that sounded casual yet interested. He didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, but he did want to see him again. The reply came a few minutes later.

  Sounds good. How about Friday 10pm, same bar as last time.

  Jesse smirked at the screen. Surely meeting that late meant they’d be going somewhere after?

  Great. See you then. His message sent and he leant back against the counter with a smile.

  Roll on Friday.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Will you be okay getting to work tonight?” Ian held his phone between his ear and shoulder as he dished up his tea.

  “Yeah, should be fine. It’s not like it’s a full moon or anything.” Cate laughed, sounding distracted, and Ian wondered if she’d managed to convince herself he and Blake were talking bollocks.

  “Pretty sure it’s werewolves you have to watch out for on a full moon.”

  “What?”

  Now he had her attention. “Werewolves change on a full moon.”

  “Are those real too? Fucking hell, Ian, I—”

  “Stop. Werewolves aren’t real, no.” At least he didn’t think so.

  She huffed down the phone. “Then why the hell bring them up?”

  “Because—look, never mind. I just called to check you’re all right getting into work and to say that I’ll be there about half nine-ish.”

  She sighed, and he heard her turn the shower on. “You don’t have to come that early, you know. I’m not doing a full shift tonight, but I still won’t finish till gone twelve.”

  “It’s fine.” He paused, knowing the reaction he was going to get after this next bit. “I’m meeting Jesse there.”

  “Ooohhh. I see.” Her voice sounded far away suddenly, as though she’d put him on speaker. “Second date, eh? Must be serious.”

  “Fuck off.”

  She laughed, and Ian rolled his eyes.

  “I wouldn’t call it a date, so don’t get all excited. It’s more a repeat performance of last weekend.” Ian wasn’t stupid. If Jesse wanted to date him, he’d have suggested something other than meeting at Cate’s pub at ten o’clock on a Friday night. No, this was for sex, pure and simple. And that suited Ian just fine for now.

  “Whatever. I’m not judging.”

  “Good.”

  “Look, I need to shower and get ready for work. I’ll see you later.”

  They said their goodbyes and Ian ended the call.

  Taking his dinner into the living room, he settled down on the sofa and flicked on the TV. Date or not, the thought of seeing Jesse again made his pulse quicken and his stomach flutter.

  Would he bring Jesse back to his flat again?

  The answer to that was an emphatic yes. He glanced around the room, noting a few things that should probably be tidied away before he had guests. Not that Jesse would be looking around his flat and checking for cleanliness. Not if Ian was doing things right, he wouldn’t anyway.

  AT 9.40PM, THE PUB was full when Ian arrived, but not heaving. He could still walk over to the bar without knocking into someone every few steps. Cate was in the middle of serving a group of about six lads, so Ian took a stool at the end of the bar and waited. A quick glance around didn’t reveal Jesse anywhere, and it struck Ian they hadn’t arranged where specifically to meet. There were two bars and a small upstairs bit.

  He sent Jesse a quick message. I’m here. Sat at the back bar, near the toilets.

  Cate finished uncapping the last bottle, took their money, and made her way over to him. “Hey.” She grinned and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Hey.” He returned her smile. “You okay?”

  Leaning closer to him over the bar, she lowered her voice. “Yeah. I am now. I spent most of the first hour looking around the pub and wondering if any of them were in here, you know?”

  “I can imagine.” He’d been doing much the same on his walk over here. Couldn’t help jumping at every small sound.

  “Now it’s busy though, I don’t have time to think let alone stop and have a look around at everyone. Talking of which.” Her gaze flicked to her left as a new group approached the bar. “What can I get you?”

  “Bottle of Heineken, please.”

  She got him his beer, glancing over his shoulder as she set it on the bar. “Lover boy not here yet?”

  “No.” Ian took a quick sip before setting the bottle back down, the liquid cool on his tongue. “I said about ten.”

  Cate took his ten-pound note and gave him change. “You don’t have to walk me to my car you know.” She sighed. “I’m probably just overreacting like usual.” She left to serve the group before Ian could respond.

  Ian watched her chat and smile as she handed drinks to the four blokes at the bar, while another barman worked the other end. He didn’t think she was overreacting at all. Despite his initial excitement, finding out that vampires existed was fucking terrifying. But they’d been living amongst them for years, hundreds of years for all he knew. If the general public hadn’t spotted them by now, then neither he nor Cate probably would either. And they were in no more or less danger today than they’d been yesterday.

  Like Blake said, the best thing they could do was to carry on as normal.

  But that was easier said than done.

  “Hey.” Ian beckoned her over when she’d finished serving. “I’m gonna hang out here with Jesse until the end of your shift, then we’ll both walk you to your car. Okay?”

  “Thank you.” She flashed a bright smile at him. Her gaze wandered for a second before returning to Ian, her smile morphing into a smirk. “You’re pretty confident that he’ll be going home with you later then?”

  “Yeah.” Ian shrugged a shoulder, trying not to show how the thought of taking Jesse home affected him. “If he plays his cards right.”

  A soft laugh sounded behind him. “And what does that entail?”

  Ian jumped, spilling some of his beer. “Fuck.” Turning round, he came face-to-face with an amused-looking Jesse. “Hey.” Bright blue eyes bored into his, crinkling at the corners as Jesse’s smile grew.

  “So . . .” Leaning an elbow on the bar, he trailed a finger along the inside of Ian’s wrist. “What do I have to do to get in your good books?”

  Ian glanced down at the lone finger burning a trail over his skin. That simple touch alone set his pulse racing. “I think you’ll manage without any help from me.” Their eyes met again, and Ian was lost, caught up in the intensity of Jesse’s gaze. It suggested a world-weariness that belied his age. So much so, the question bubbled to the surface. “How old are you exactly?” It hadn’t come up the weekend before, and Ian hadn’t bothered asking. Jesse looked younger than him, but that didn’t mean much these days. If he had to hazard a guess, he’d put him in his twenties.

  A flash of something—Ian couldn’t place it—flashed in Jesse’s eyes before he smiled. “Old enough.”

  “Well thank God for that, but come on, indulge me. I’m curious now.” Ian gave him a slow once over. Black skinny jeans, boots, heather-grey T-shirt, and a leather jacket. Jesse knew how to dress, how to look good without it seeming like he’d tried too hard. Effortlessly hot. Not for the first time Ian wondered how he’d got so lucky last weekend, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Biting his lip, Jesse stared back at him, considering. “Twenty-five.”

  Older than Ian had pegged him for going on looks alone, but he had an experience about him that made him seem older. Maybe he’d had a shit start in life— that’d age you easily enough.


  “What about you?” Jesse asked, taking the glass of whisky Cate handed to him. “Thanks.” He smiled at her, then turned to face Ian again. “Fair’s fair.”

  “I’m thirty-one,” Ian offered, wondering if that mattered at all. Six years was nothing in his book, but some people got hung up on ages. “Not too old for you?”

  A laugh burst out of Jesse, and he shook his head. “Not at all.” He drained his glass in one go and took a step closer, leaning in so his mouth brushed Ian’s ear. Ian shivered, eyes falling closed. “That’s enough small talk. Let’s dance.” Not waiting for Ian’s response, Jesse set his empty glass on the bar and headed to the semi-crowded dance floor, sliding seamlessly in amongst the other dancers.

  The wicked smile he shot Ian promised all kinds of dirty things, and Ian swallowed thickly. “Fuck me.”

  Cate’s laughter had him glancing over his shoulder. “You’ve got your hands full there.”

  “With any luck.”

  She gestured back to the dance floor with a nod. “Better get out there. You’re not the only one eyeing him up.”

  Knocking back his beer, Ian strode across the room, his eyes never leaving Jesse. The way he moved to the music—like it played only for him—made Ian want to stop and just watch him. Dancing wasn’t really Ian’s thing; he normally needed more than a couple of beers to lose his self-consciousness and let himself go. But as he walked over, there were already a couple of lads dancing closer than Ian liked, their eyes raking over Jesse in obvious appreciation.

  Ian shot them a fuck-off glare, not that either of them looked away long enough to notice. Figuring he needed to make it more obvious that Jesse was taken—at least for tonight anyway—Ian stalked up to him, slid his hands around Jesse’s waist, and pulled him back into his chest. The minute their bodies touched, everything else faded into the background, and all Ian’s focus narrowed to Jesse. The way he smelled—citrusy and spicy—the feel of rough denim under his hands where Ian gripped his jean-clad hips, and the way Jesse pushed back against him—each grind and roll making his fingers dig in that little bit more.