He’d gotten out of Glenwood Penitentiary early because of good behavior and Leo’s connections. Ethan had been sentenced to five years, figured he’d have to do at least two, then somehow got out in six months. He knew Leo was responsible more than Ethan having kept his head down or managing to get assigned to a fairly kind if large and menacing cellmate.
After that, how could Ethan go home, knowing his uncle had done so much for him, when all Ethan had done was throw that away, chasing dreams focused solely on his parents, and then falsifying evidence to put away a supposedly guilty party?
Ethan knew the man was guilty, but did that make it right? He used to believe that a single man put away for a crime he didn’t commit was worse than any villain getting away with murder. It was easy to think that way until he was in the middle of it.
Now he was a vampire, with the threat of killing someone himself someday looming in the shadows.
How had he gone from having a great job interview to under-the-influence sex with a werewolf and sudden vampirism?
That thought drew Ethan’s attention back to the puddle of blood. The smell was strong, as if it was right next to him even though it was across the room. He could also smell the scent of sex Deanna had noticed—very potently.
If this was a normal night and Bash just some tantalizing catch Ethan had picked up at a bar, even if it had been a one-night stand, it would have been amazing. Bash was gorgeous and sexy and smelled like everything Ethan had ever craved. If that’s how things had gone down, it also could have been a great meet-cute—not that Ethan had any friends to share one with.
People tended to avoid him, and Uncle Leo had always been distrusting of others, which had made Ethan distrusting too. Even if he had a great one-night stand or meet-cute to talk about, there was no one to tell.
Instead Ethan was stuck with eternal night, an empty cell with a splatter of blood, and a werewolf jailer. Not to mention that Ethan’s portfolio, the real one he kept on him, not the copy he’d given Siobhan, wasn’t here. He must have lost it in the alley.
Pressing his back to the wall, Ethan slid to the floor and tried with every part of him not to cry.
Chapter 4
DEANNA STOOD complaining to Luke and Preston when Bash reached the main floor.
“Please tell me you at least told them the important parts of the situation?” Bash said.
“That you’re off your rocker?” Deanna shot back. “Yes.”
“We got it,” Preston intervened before Bash could let out a long-suffering sigh. “The fanger is tied to a bigger plot and we can’t kill him.”
“I hadn’t mentioned yet that you also fucked him,” Deanna spat—because of course she did.
“What?” Preston yelped.
“Ew!” Luke added.
Rising to his full height, Bash stalked forward, giving no quarter or pause before he flashed his eyes at them in warning. “As your Alpha, I expect more discretion with the rest of the circle. We’ll tell them about Ethan—and he’s Ethan, not a fanger—and about his sire and my prophecy, but the rest is need-to-know, which means they do not need to know.”
Deanna huffed, but Preston and Luke both nodded.
“He will remain in the cellar unless accompanied by me. We do not need Mr. Russell or his Second finding out about this. If Ethan proves trustworthy, he may be more useful than just a tool against his sire’s plot, but we need to play this carefully.”
“What if he breaks out at night?” Luke asked with a shiver.
“I will be staying with him to make sure that isn’t a problem.”
“Excuse me?” Deanna jumped back to confrontational. “That must have been one amazing fuck, or maybe you’re still enthralled.”
Bash couldn’t blame her for her ire. She was always on edge after one of his prophecies, being his closest friend and practically family. Besides, shifters were taught from birth to doubt the loyalties of everyone they met until proven otherwise, and vampires shouldn’t even be given that.
Ethan was different, though. Everything about this was different. Bash couldn’t explain it, but he knew he was following the right path to guarantee the city’s safety over its doom.
“I am completely in my right mind,” he said to Deanna, relaxing his stance but speaking plainly, “which is why I am not going to leave him to his own devices.”
“You’re just going to have a vampire roommate in the middle of marriage negotiations?”
“Would you rather I give him his own room up here, let him run wild so other city’s packs can say I’m even more unhinged than they already think?”
“Because you’re taking in a vampire whose master wants to overthrow you!” Deanna erupted. “Vampires are dangerous and out of control, and this one is going to end up biting you like any other.”
“He has bitten me.” Bash didn’t try to hide the marks that he could feel Preston and Luke staring at. “And I’m still here. We need to know why Ethan is so powerful. If we simply kill him and this other vampire can make more like him, we’ll be right back where we started. And there is something else about him.”
“Obviously,” Deanna huffed again, “considering you fucked him on the basement floor.”
“You what?” Siobhan bellowed, announcing her presence with a boom as she entered. She must have zipped through cleaning the alley, but Deanna hadn’t failed to pass on Bash’s other request—there were two portfolios in Siobhan’s hands, which eased the fact that another circle member knew he slept with Ethan.
Wait, two?
“Why two?” Bash asked, ignoring Siobhan’s question.
She scowled but answered, “Copy Lambert gave me and an original I found in the alley.”
Bash snatched the original from Siobhan’s hands more forcefully than intended, but the idea that there may be something in this version that he hadn’t seen before was too appealing. The drawings that had caught Bash’s attention before were almost as entrancing as the man himself and might reveal more of this mystery.
“Good job,” Bash said. “I’ll explain more as we work. For now, everyone is going to help me get the basement livable. We’re not monsters, and we’re not going to treat Ethan like one either, not unless he gives us a reason. But no one other than me enters that wine cellar. You’re simply helping me bring down amenities.”
“You’re acting like you got a new pet,” Deanna said.
“The carrot, Deanna, not the stick, if we want him to trust us and be useful. That’s what this prophecy is telling me. You’ll see, but I need you to trust me.” Bash meant those words for all of them, but he focused on Deanna as he said it.
Having a reputation for always being right about his hunches was one of his strongest assets, ensuring loyalties where another Alpha might have faltered. Luke and Preston didn’t voice dissensions, skeptical as they may have been about having a vampire under their roof. Siobhan didn’t speak out either.
Deanna seemed as though she might argue more, but Bash saw the flicker of indecision in her eyes that showed how worried she truly was. “Fine. Guess we better find a stray bed to drag down there and supplies to clean up that blood.”
She spun on her heels, and Luke and Preston scrambled to follow her. Bash held the true portfolio to his chest, only to nearly stumble when Siobhan pushed the copied version into his arms as well.
“Another prophecy?” she said before following Deanna too. “I hate Halloween.”
BASH WAS serious; he didn’t want any of the others going into the cellar and meeting Ethan until he’d finished vetting him and felt 100 percent certain about his belief in him. He was almost certain, but almost wasn’t good enough.
So, while the others helped him bring down everything he’d requested for Ethan’s room, he alone cleaned the blood, brought in the bed, and set up the other items he thought Ethan might want.
A small desk and tools for drawing. Books for the shelves, but no internet, which meant he also confiscated Ethan’s phone. That made Ethan stiff
en and sigh, but the joy on his face when Bash handed him his portfolios made up for it, spreading a rare warmth through Bash’s chest at the sight.
Ethan still stared in incredulity when Bash finished making the bed. “You really think I’m so dangerous that I have to sleep down here?”
“All vampires are dangerous. I’m going to keep an eye on you until I can be sure you’re in control, which means I will be staying with you.”
Ethan clutched his portfolios to him the same way Bash had, like they were grounding even when he couldn’t see the pictures.
Bash had looked through the original, but only one drawing was new compared to the copy. It was more surreal than Ethan’s other works, like an impressionist painting, yet Bash would swear he could see something recognizable in the dark swirls of black and red and gold.
Like a figure with yellow eyes.
“You’re sleeping down here too?” Ethan said. “In the same bed?”
“If you’re worried about your innocence,” Bash smirked, “you can relax. I have no intention of having a repeat performance from earlier. I’ll simply sleep beside you to ensure you don’t do anything stupid.”
Ethan relaxed, though Bash could see a touch of disappointment at the edges of his expression. Bash felt it too, because there was an indescribable pull toward Ethan that he’d never experienced with anyone else. It worried him that it might be because of the thrall or Ethan’s sire’s plans, but it didn’t feel the same, not exactly.
Under Ethan’s control, Bash had felt like he was floating, dreamlike, clearly under the influence and unnaturally giddy. Now it was things he would normally desire in a man that caught his attention. The lovely length of his neck and legs. The sparkle in his eyes and sweetness to his mouth. The slender body with subtle but powerful muscle beneath his skin.
Bash would have wanted Ethan physically regardless of extenuating circumstances, but he was also drawn to the art and the spirit in the depth beyond Ethan’s face and figure.
“How long do I have to live like this?” Ethan asked.
“Only until I know you can be trusted.”
“I can’t believe this is my homecoming.” Ethan slouched into the chair at the desk and set his portfolios atop it, not as though he wanted to fight Bash, but coming to terms with his situation. “I grew up here, before Uncle Leo moved us to Glenwood. I just want to help people, but everything I do makes things worse.”
“You didn’t choose to be a vampire. It was forced upon you. That makes this your sire’s fault, not yours.”
It wasn’t late by normal standards, maybe for a human, but not on Halloween. Still, Bash felt fatigued and saw the same exhaustion in Ethan. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Focus on your goals, not what you can’t change. If you really mean what you say, that you want to help people, then you can be of help right here.”
“How?” Ethan blinked at him. “No offense, but it sounds like you’re some kind of… crime boss.”
“More or less.” Bash chuckled. “But not even that is black-and-white. I have an obligation to my people just like any city’s… mayor, let’s say. Think of me as an Alpha like that. In fact, the actual mayor of Centrus City and I are comrades in arms as such to keep this city running. He’s human and not nearly as crooked as most. You can help a lot of people by helping me make sure this sire of yours doesn’t find a way to get what he wants.”
Ethan appeared to mull that over, likely bursting with more questions, but he didn’t voice them yet. “Okay.”
“In the meantime, if you want that job at the tattoo parlor, it’s yours. It’s more than just the art; we use that place for information. It’ll give us an opportunity to introduce you to the shifters of this city under controlled circumstances. You’d be of use there, especially if you have designs on becoming a PI eventually.”
A sparkle of hope lit up Ethan’s eyes, making him look entirely human. Not that he looked like a vampire without his eyes changed or his fangs out, but the vampires Bash had met in the past always had this sense about them that gave them away even before he smelled them, like a creeping darkness overpowering their best efforts to blend in.
Ethan was filled with light.
“You think I could still have that?” Ethan asked.
“We’ll see, won’t we? Now, while you no longer need as much sleep, you do still need it. Rest, let your body adjust. I’ll have some errands to run in the morning, but if you play nice, you won’t have to stay down here for long. I assume you have an apartment in town or hotel you’ve been staying at?”
“Hotel, yeah. I was going to look for apartments after I got a job.”
“Aren’t you lucky, then, that you’ll no longer need to pay rent? If there’s time tomorrow, we can go there to clean out your things. Until then, you’re welcome to use my clothes.” Bash gestured to the duffel he’d packed with essentials—sleep pants, shirts, jeans, underwear.
Bash wasted no time rising from the bed to undress and put his own sleep clothes on. Ethan had very recently fed, but it still amused Bash to see the blood rush to his cheeks, painting him scarlet.
They’d slept together, and Ethan had seen Bash naked when he showed him his various forms, but still, he politely turned his head while digging through the duffel for his own change of clothes.
A short while later, Bash couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder to see Ethan only half dressed, bare-chested and inhaling the scent of one of Bash’s long-sleeved navy shirts like it was vampire catnip. His eyes even fluttered, and Bash had to smirk, especially when Ethan noticed him watching and hurried to put the shirt on.
The light was by the door, but they could both see well in the dark, even pitch-black like it was when Bash snuffed the light out. He heard Ethan about to protest, since he hadn’t gotten into bed yet, but once he looked around and realized how easily he could find his way, he held his tongue.
They crawled under the covers, and Bash wondered if he was out of his mind.
“Why do you trust me?” Ethan asked, as if to press the issue. “If all you’ve ever known was that vampires are awful, why give me the benefit of the doubt?”
“I’m still being cautious,” Bash reminded him, though being in bed with a vampire might say otherwise.
“Any other situation, though, you would have killed a vampire like me.”
“True. Years ago, I had a prophecy warning me of an important Halloween night when I’d have to make a decision. I think that was tonight. Killing or sparing you will lead to the ruin or salvation of this city.”
Ethan was quiet for a while. “How do you know which is which?” he asked eventually, the same question Bash’s pack had pushed the whole time they were dragging things into the basement. “How do you know sparing me was the right decision?”
“I don’t. It’s just a feeling. But my feelings are never wrong.”
The bed creaked as Ethan shifted onto his side to face Bash, and Bash turned his head to look at him. He was lovely in the dark, ivory face and bright green eyes looking back at Bash with curious confidence. “Me too. I mean, before now, one of the reasons I was always so good at being a CSI was that even if I had a crazy hunch no one else believed, once the evidence came through, I was always right. Always. The only time there wasn’t enough evidence was with the Decker case.”
“Your child killer,” Bash concluded. “That’s why you falsified evidence, because you believed you had to be right this time too.”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you’re a Seer. There are ways we can check that.”
“I don’t think so.” Ethan smiled softly and glanced down at the sheets. “Nothing like what happened with you has ever happened to me. It’s just feelings, just hunches, and maybe a weird dream or two that inspires my drawings.”
“Oh?” Bash was the same, though he didn’t create art from it. The ideas stayed in his mind from his eidetic memory like a perfect picture. Maybe, like him, there was Seer blood in Ethan’s family. “Whatever the answ
ers, while I don’t believe fate chooses for us, I do believe it exists. There is purpose behind our meeting and something worth saving in you.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked up with a shimmer of yellow—overcome with emotion he couldn’t control, yet that didn’t worry Bash, because he felt a stir of emotion too.
Maybe he was insane, but he didn’t think he was wrong about Ethan any more than he’d been wrong about anything else.
“Thank you again,” Ethan said in all seriousness, “for, um… not killing me.”
“I still might, you realize,” Bash said, since he didn’t believe in sugarcoating the truth.
Ethan nodded without protest and rolled onto his back again. They lay there, side by side, until Ethan suddenly snorted.
“Something funny?”
“Uh… you know Princess Bride? I was thinking of that Dread Pirate Roberts part. ‘Good night. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’” He giggled like he couldn’t think of any better response to tonight’s absurdity.
Bash laughed too. Ethan was something all right. Something special. “I promise, as long as I never find reason otherwise, it will never come to that.”
Chapter 5
ETHAN WAS not the easy sleeper type. His mind worked too frantically and all the time. His parents used to say it was like he had to go into each individual room in his mind, shutting off all the lights one by one before he could sleep, instead of some people who could conk out by throwing a master switch.
That was Bash, apparently, because he was out in moments after they stopped talking. What surprised Ethan was that it didn’t take much longer for him to drift off too.
IT WAS cold tonight, he thought, pulling his jacket tighter around him. He didn’t recognize the streets he was walking, but he knew he was still in Centrus.
He turned a corner, down a dark, empty street, and felt as if every shadow was about to snatch him up and eat him.
By the Red Moonlight Page 4