Life After Humanity

by Gillian St. Kevern

  Nate lay down on the floor to try to grab the dog. “I can’t reach him. Guess he’s staying there.”

  “He is not!” Aki stamped his foot.

  “He’ll come out once we leave and then you can shut the door.” Nate got onto his knees. “If anything, this is a compliment. The dog chose your bed to hide under, right? He obviously likes you.”

  Aki shot him a withering look. “Fuck off on your date already.”

  Nate pressed the button for the elevator and wiped his palms on his jeans. “Sorry about that. Look, I promise we won’t keep the dog any longer than it takes to track down his owner.”

  “It’s cool. Just as long as you keep it out of sight of any other residents. I don’t want more people deciding to pet sit.”

  Nate shot Ben a glance as they stepped inside the elevator. “You’re not angry about this?”

  “More amused than anything else.” Ben hesitated. His fingers seemed to reach for Nate’s of their own accord. “Let’s just say that I always pictured you as a dog person.”

  “You’ve thought about me and pets?”

  Ben nodded. Better than divulging how strongly Nate’s hurt reminded him of a begging dog. “In passing. Don’t worry. Our date doesn’t involve stopping by a pet store.”

  Nate’s fingers twitched as if he wanted to take Ben’s, but instead, he hit the button for the ground floor. “Where are we going for our date?” The question sounded stiff, oddly formal.

  Ben shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “I figured Ikea was as a good a place as anywhere else.” He gave Nate a quick look, noticing he’d changed his clothes since that morning. His hair was messed up, thanks to his escapade with the dog, but had a sleek look, suggesting that he’d had a shower not that long ago. Made an effort.

  “The housewares store?”

  “Is there any other Ikea?” Ben nudged Nate. “I was hoping you could help me choose some new furnishings for my apartment.”

  “You’re taking me furniture shopping? I don’t know if you’re allowed to make fun of my lack of romantic ideas for dates.” Nate nudged back.

  “We can go somewhere else. I just figured that they’ve got a cafe, and maybe you could give me some pointers—I mean, you and Aki have made your place look really good.”

  “You think so?” Nate ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve been pretty lucky with our friends. Beatrice is really artistic, you know, being a photographer, and Mandy’s hobby is sewing.”

  “But one of you had to come up with the color scheme.”

  “We both did,” Nate said. “And you don’t want to know how long it took us to agree on something. But Aki’s right—the color brings everything together.”

  Ben nodded. “That’s what I need. My apartment—” He hesitated. “It needs personality. I haven’t managed to make it feel comfortable, and well, I thought you’d be able to help.”

  “I don’t know.” Nate tugged his collar. “I mean I’ll try, but I’m no expert or anything.”

  “Believe me. An interior decorator is the last thing on my shopping list.” They reached the lobby and the elevator doors opened. Nate hit the hold-door button as Ben stepped through. “I could hire someone to make it look good. But I want someone who can make it look real.”

  “Huh.” Nate walked a step behind Ben, obviously considering what he was saying. “Something less showroom, more a place where people actually live?”

  “That’s right.” Ben waited on the steps for Nate to catch up.

  Nate smirked. “That’s easy. Borrow Aki for a day. At the end of it, your apartment will look as if there’s an entire football team living in it.”

  “Pass.” Ben had glimpsed the mess in Aki’s room when Nate had tried to get the dog out from under the bed. “I mean if you don’t want to—”

  “I never said that.” Nate held out a hand. “Let me see your list?”

  Ben’s hand was into the pocket of his jacket before he realized what Nate’s question implied. “How did you know I made a list?”

  Nate grinned at him. “You really need me to answer that?”

  Ben shook his head, smoothing out the paper and handing it to Nate. “I guess not.”

  He watched Nate scan the page as they walked down the street. He’d relaxed, losing his earlier stiffness. Ben felt something in his chest give way to warmth. This is right. Him. Me. Neither of us thinking—just being.

  “This is quite a list.” Nate looked up, catching Ben’s eye. His eyes sparkled. “I’ve worked out your plan.”

  Ben’s mouth quirked. “Really.”

  Nate handed the paper back. “Yeah. You dragged me along, not for my interior decorating skills, but to carry all your purchases home at the end of this.”

  Ben laughed. “You offering? Thanks, Nate. It’s appreciated.”

  “Hey! I didn’t say that.”

  Ben shot him a playful grin. “I’ll make it up to you.” He let his gaze linger over Nate’s torso, following the sculpted line of his chest down before flicking his gaze up to Nate’s eyes. “Somehow.”

  From the sudden interest in Nate’s expression, his mind had gone exactly where Ben was intending. “What do you have in mind? Because I’m warning you—when Ikea says they’re happy to let customers test out the beds, they’re not talking about more than lying on them.”

  Ben smiled. The knowledge that he had Nate’s full attention made him powerful. He trailed a finger down Nate’s arm, letting his touch linger, and stepping back just as Nate leaned in. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

  He turned, walking the remaining distance to the corner, scanning for a passing taxi. He was conscious that Nate jogged to keep up. Ben felt a surge of joy. Have I been overthinking? Nate stood close enough that Ben could feel the heat of his body. He didn’t need to touch him to feel the extra sensory awareness he felt whenever they made love. Human is easier than I thought. A cab turned down the street. “Taxi!” Ben raised a hand.

  The driver didn’t even glance in their direction. He continued to cruise down the street.

  “Wow. Rude.” Nate waved. “Taxi!”

  The man reacted immediately, pulling over. “You want to try signaling a little sooner next time,” he scolded, turning to watch Nate scramble into the backseat. “If there had been a car behind me, I wouldn’t have been able to stop.”

  “But—”

  Ben elbowed Nate as he drew his seat belt on. “Let it go.” He squeezed Nate’s hand. “We’re on a date, after all. Tell him where we want to go.” As Nate frowned, Ben thought of an excuse. “You’re the people person.”

  Nate obviously wasn’t buying it, but he turned to give instructions to the driver.

  Ben breathed out, settling his hands on his lap. I’d almost forgotten. He was Class Six—Restricted. To normal people he was invisible.

  He reached for Nate’s hand. At least Nate can see me. The thought of the Final Register filled him with dread. No. Ordinary date. Ben swallowed. I’m not letting this spoil our time together.

  Chapter Eight

  “OKAY. THIS IS cool.” Ben came to a stop before a painting. “What do you think?”

  Nate halted to consider the painting. It was some kind of modern art statement. A woodcut that didn’t quite line up. The color looked like it was sloppily applied with a sponge by a graduate arts student who had half-assed every other assignment and felt that making an effort now would ruin his vibe. But despite that, it still had something. The detail of the lines of the pier, stretching out in mathematical precision over the blurred, indistinct shape of the water, and the dark shadows of the building behind—a boathouse maybe—wasn’t obscured by the slapdash nature of the color. Or maybe the sloppiness was what made it? “The Lady in the Lake.” Nate peered at the painting. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “I don’t think it’s a literal title.” Ben leaned back against Nate as he considered it. “The Lady in the Lake’s part of the Arthurian mythos. You know—she gave Arthur Excalibur.”


  Ben’s body was warm where it rested against Nate. He readjusted his posture and felt Ben relax against him. His close-cut hair tickled Nate’s neck. It was really hard to think of something intelligent to say. Nate made a valiant effort. “So, kind of a modern take on the old legend?”

  Ben nodded, ticking Nate’s neck further. “I guess so. Do you like it?”

  Nate considered it. He liked paintings that looked like what they were meant to be. But this… You had to admit that the artist knew what a lake in the woods looked like. Morning mist hung above the water, making the shapes of the trees beyond vague. “Now that I stop and look at it, yeah. It’s the sort of painting you give a second look.”

  Ben made a sound of acknowledgement, not taking his eyes off it. “Above the bookshelf in the dining room?”

  Nate pictured the painting hanging on Ben’s wall. “I think it would look good there—but it’s not my dining room. It’s yours.”

  Ben nodded. He straightened up to peer at the label beside the painting. “The artist isn’t listed. That’s odd.”

  Nate hung back a step. “Ask a shop assistant?”

  “Good idea.” Ben sized up the shop and strode down an aisle.

  Nate followed slowly. He was out of his league, and he knew it. Nothing said ‘different worlds’ like a painting that cost Nate’s entire month’s pretax earnings with the cut that Century took. But Ben had barely glanced at the price.

  I know he’s rich. Nate hunched his shoulders. But this is way out of my comfort zone. Just one more difference to add to the growing list of things they couldn’t agree on—

  Nate looked up—and stared.

  In his search for a shop assistant, Ben had wandered into bathroom fittings. He’d glanced around and then suddenly flinched. While Nate watched, he took a step backward, bumping into a sink. Ben jumped, his arm catching on a display fern.

  “I got it!” Nate snatched the fern out of midair. He replaced it on the countertop. “There. No harm done.” He turned to Ben. “Are you all right?”

  Ben let out a slow breath. He smiled, placing his hand on Nate’s arm. “Thanks to your reflexes.” His mouth twitched ruefully. “Were you coming to my rescue—or the plant’s?”

  But Nate wasn’t going to let himself be teased. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Don’t try that. I know you too well. This entire day, you’ve been acting, well—off.”

  “Is it bad that I want to spend time with a friend?”

  Nate glanced around. There was still no sign of any staff member, which for now was a good thing. “Please, Ben? I know something’s not right. You were silent practically the entire taxi ride. And now that we’re here…” He hesitated. There had scarcely been a moment when Ben didn’t have his hands on some part of Nate—but how to bring that up without making Ben sound clingy? “You’ve been more—physical than usual.”

  Ben forced a smile. “Making up for lost time. And isn’t physical what you do on dates?”

  Nate hesitated. I don’t want to fuck this up. Inexplicable or not, it had been far, far too long since he and Ben had spent time together that wasn’t fraught with tension. Just enjoy it—

  No. Nate’s eyes fell on the dark shadows around Ben’s eyes. I have to know. “I’m definitely not complaining. But I can’t help but think there’s something else going on here. You don’t jump at nothing.”

  “Just my imagination.” Ben tugged him. “Let’s go back. I think we passed an assistant in the bedding department.”

  Nate looked around. His gaze fell on a wall of mirrors, and he felt Ben’s fingers tighten on his wrists. “That’s it, isn’t it? The mirrors.”

  “Vampire instinct takes a while to forget,” Ben said quickly. “I got a fright. I wasn’t expecting them.”

  “That’s all?”

  Ben nodded. “What more are you expecting?”

  Nate looked around. There was a middle-aged couple slowly browsing their way toward them. He took Ben’s hand, leading him out of bathroom fittings, into the sample living room. He nudged Ben to sit on the sofa, taking the seat beside him. “The last time we talked about us, you told me that we couldn’t have any contact while you were working on your humanity application. You’re still working on it, but now you’re acting like we never had that conversation. I have to know. Is this you—or the vampire?”

  Ben tensed. He didn’t reply.

  Nate squeezed his hand in apology. “What happened at Century? I have to know, Ben.”

  “I—don’t know.” Ben stared down at the charcoal-gray carpet sample beneath their feet. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It shouldn’t be possible, right? To be a vampire but still have a heartbeat?”

  Ben snorted. “If we’re talking about what is possible, then I shouldn’t have a pulse at all. The encounter with Sandy should have finished me. This—this is just one more unlikely coincidence. And I’m starting to think that I’m not just incredibly lucky, but that something has gone incredibly wrong.”

  With every word, his grip tightened on Nate’s arm.

  “Hey.” Nate placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Let’s talk this through. When you say incredibly wrong, you just mean that this hasn’t happened before, right?”

  “Right.”

  “But as far as you know, no vampire ever switched back to human before either. So this might be totally normal. We just don’t know.”

  Ben lifted his head to look at Nate. His brow furrowed. “That’s—a point. But I don’t see how it helps us.”

  “Maybe instead of concentrating on what you think should be happening, we can focus on what is.” Nate stroked Ben’s back. “Talk me through what happened. When did you first notice…?”

  “The vampire? Not until you’d knocked the werewolf out. That’s when I realized I had fangs. I think they showed up before then and I was just unaware—there was no way I could have dodged the werewolf’s leap without vampire reflexes.” Ben’s voice sounded less strained, more natural as he applied himself to the problem. “And there are thoughts that I put down to old habit that could have been the vampire…in fact, was the vampire.” He relaxed his death grip on Nate’s arm. “Blood.”

  “Blood?” Nate was startled. He looked up to make sure they were still alone.

  Ben nodded. “Someone knocked me down in the panic to evacuate. When I got up, I tasted blood. I had cut my mouth. That and the danger are probably what triggered the revival of the vampire.”

  “Meaning it could happen again?”

  Ben tensed. “It’s not happening again. I’m not going back, Nate.”

  Nate took a deep breath. “It’s happened twice. I don’t think you can be sure of that.” He hurried onward, hating himself more with every word. “It’s worth experimenting to see if you can make it happen on purpose. Then you can make sure—”

  “It’s not happening again.” Ben didn’t need to raise his voice to make a statement final.

  “But if you know you can prevent it—”

  “You don’t understand, Nate. It can’t happen again.” Ben was never healthy-looking on a good day, but he seemed to have lost what little color he had. “Convincing everyone I’m normal is the only chance I have.”

  “Only chance?” Nate echoed. I don’t like the sound of that.

  Ben nodded. He let go of Nate’s arm to pull the slate-gray sofa cushion onto his lap. “The Registry’s investigating my case. They’re keeping a really close eye on me.”

  Nate’s eyes widened. “You mean the werewolf at the park yesterday. That wasn’t Wisner keeping tabs on us—”

  Ben nodded. “He was keeping surveillance on me. I can’t let them know about this—and I especially can’t let Department Seven know. If anyone gets even the slightest idea that I’ve retained some form of vampiric power, the first thing they’re going to do is get ARX in to investigate—”

  “And there’s no way that Saltaire is going to let you go after that,”
Nate finished. “Fuck.”

  “It’s the end of everything.” Ben took a deep breath. He addressed his next words to Nate’s chest. “I’ve got no right to ask you to keep my secrets—”

  “Hey.” Nate felt his heart contract with sympathy. He gently put his fingers beneath Ben’s chin, raising his eyes to meet Nate’s gaze. “You keep my secret. And Ethan’s—and you don’t even like Ethan. You don’t have to take me shopping to get me to help you.”

  Ben’s cheeks flushed. “You—this isn’t some attempt to bribe you! That—honestly never occurred to me. I just—well, given how coldly I’ve treated you, I felt bad about putting an even greater burden on you.”

  “The thing about burdens is they’re meant to be shared.” Nate pulled Ben toward him. “Try me.”

  Ben looked as though he wanted very much to pull away, but with a sigh, he shut his eyes, leaning against Nate. His fingers gripped Nate’s T-shirt as if he wanted to be very certain that Nate wasn’t going anywhere. “My appointment yesterday was with a psychiatrist. The Registry wants to make sure I’m—normal.”

  Nate bit his lip. There were many things he could say to that, but he wasn’t sure that Ben would take any of them well. He was such an intensely private person that the experience of baring his thoughts to a stranger would be tough no matter why he did it.

  “He was—good at his stuff. He made me see that I’ve been making excuses. Putting off living because I was afraid.”

  “Afraid?” Nate stroked the spiky hair at the base of Ben’s skull. “He knows you stood up to a demon, right?”

  He felt Ben smile against the bare skin of his neck. “He was right. Everyone I love died. Including you.”

  Nate’s fingers stilled. “I got better!”

  “Even knowing you—survived—I can’t forget. I thought that with the vampire gone, I could move on. I wouldn’t have to worry about endangering the people I care about. But now—”

  “You’re trying to deny the vampire—just like you tried to deny that you had feelings for me?” Nate settled back so that he could study Ben’s expression.

  Ben straightened, nodding his head. His cheeks had a guilty flush. “Well—”