Frostbite Page 11

  "Such an honor my son bestows upon me. We haven't seen your presence here in quite some time," she said without any inflection to indicate if it was a statement or an accusation. Until she spoke, he hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd seen his mother in person. Weeks. She hadn't called for him, and he had done his best to avoid her while he was hatching his plans, afraid that she would be able to read his intent on his face. Seeing her again carried a trace of unreality.

  "Hello, Mother." He bowed. She always liked that. When he straightened again, she stood before him. Years of practice kept him from flinching. No matter how fast he was, she would always be faster. And quieter. Age hung on her like a cloak. Her skin was a tawny brown so smooth she looked like she'd been carved from stone, the fall of her hair shadowing the scar on her cheek and neck.

  She held his chin with one hand as she peered up into his face. Her touch was soft as the air, but that was only an illusion. She could lift him off his feet without exerting herself. He dropped his gaze, submitting to her inspection as he had so many times before.

  She knew what he'd done. She must by now. From Seraphine or Enoch or only because she tended to know things no one had spoken of, even in whispers. It had been magical to him once, the way she could pull the truth from the empty air. Now he dreaded it.

  Ezra had gone over and over what he would say to her when he saw her next. All of it had gone out of his head. All he had left was the need to be enough for her—finally. If he could make her believe, he could do anything.

  "Mother, I need to speak with you," he began.

  "On that we are agreed. I've had quite the tales about you in my absence. Perhaps I should leave more often. Things become so much more exciting." She dropped her hand from his face.

  "I can explain." He made himself meet her eye. They were as dark as his even if their resemblance was weak in all other ways. Ezra was told he took after his father, but if there were any photos he might use to confirm that fact, Ezra hadn't seen them and there was no other way to do so. His father had died while Ezra was barely an infant.

  "I don't know what Seraphine told you, but I will make no excuses. I shouldn't have to. I'm twenty-four now, I don't need to be minded every hour of every day any more than Stuart or the rest do. Surely you can see that by now if you've heard as much as you say."

  "We have a very different understanding of the events of the last week then, I think."

  "I left—against your wishes—I admit that. Just as I admit that I will do so again. I'm done asking your permission." He lifted his chin. "You won't stop me."

  She smiled thinly before drifting away to the sideboard, where a selection of bottles and decanters sat clustered together like a skyline in miniature. Only some held liquor. The contents of the rest had always been a mystery. She chose a cut glass decanter filled with something of such a deep red it was almost purple.

  "The hunter is your rebellion. It strikes everyone eventually. Choosing a hunter was a nice touch though. Different. None of your siblings thought to try one of those. And it won't last with you any more than it did with them. They all came around in the end."

  "No. I was done before I ever met him." He wasn't even surprised that she knew who and what Morgan was. "This isn't about Morgan. It's about me, Mother. About what I want. I can't spend another twenty years waiting for you to trust me to myself. And I won't."

  She glanced back at him, something in his voice finally drawing her attention. "Say what it is you really mean."

  "I've said it already, you just weren't listening." A mantle of calm settled over him. "You won't stop me. If you try, the next time I leave will be the last you ever see of me."

  "You assume I would let you get that far." She regarded him over the edge of her tumbler as she took a sip. "My darling little boy." Each syllable came rimed in ice. "Twenty-four years old. You're a baby yet. You can't even begin to comprehend how young that is."

  "That's because you're older than time!"

  Her self-satisfied smile cracked.

  "I'm sorry," he blurted automatically before he realized it wasn't true. "No. I take that back. I'm not sorry at all. I'm right. You're so old you've forgotten what it even feels like to be new. You keep telling me I need to prove myself and I have. I've done everything you ever asked and more. You just don't want to be satisfied. You don't want to let me up from under your thumb. But not even you can watch me forever, every moment of every day, until the end of time. You should know by now, Mother. I always get what I want in the end."

  "Finally, a persuasive argument." She laughed. It sounded strange in the stillness of the room. Even the music had stopped, though he didn't know when. He'd been too focused on betraying no weakness. "And not unlike the one Seraphine offered for you. She was quite annoyed at being forced to your side on the matter."

  Ezra staggered under the weight of her sudden mood swing.

  "Really?"

  His shock must have shown on his face, because she laughed again. Once. Silently. "Indeed. I can't remember the last time it happened. You know how she hates admitting defeat. However, it was unnecessary. I have already made up my mind."

  She took another measured sip of her drink and Ezra's heart froze in his chest. He'd meant what he said. Every word. But she could still say no. She could still make things impossible for him if she wanted. His mind raced with all the ways she might. Morgan would be the first to go. Or she might try to bargain him away in exchange for the rest of Ezra's freedom. Ezra didn't want to consider that option at all.

  Why didn't she say anything? The longer she was silent, expression giving him nothing, the more he started to worry. His mind churned with possible solutions.

  Her eyes raked his face. She set down her glass.

  "Very well. I can see you already plotting your next escape so why don't we save ourselves that little adventure, hmm? We'll see about this freedom you so desire instead. Do as you wish"—she held up a hand as he tried to speak—"within reason. I would rather you didn't give Seraphine additional reasons to worry. And really, I don't know what you find so fascinating about the outside world. This century is a nightmare. Nor do I approve of you bringing humans into my house. There are dozens of allied clan who would have begged for your hand instead." She didn't smile, but she sounded proud.

  Ezra bit his lip to keep from beaming. Relief flooded him like tiny bubbles. "Not humans. One human. And almost all our guards are human. Another will hardly be noticed."

  Her eyes narrowed. "I am not sure I care for this new forthrightness you've acquired. I would rather you went back to agreeing with me on everything, as you used to. I liked that much more."

  "I was ten at the time. I didn't know any better."

  She sighed and poured another glass. She held it out to him. A faint smile touched her lips again. "To this sudden independence of yours. Don't make me regret it."

  "I'll do my best."

  MORGAN SAT BACK ON the chaise lounge and rubbed his eyes. He pressed so hard he saw stars.

  The conversation with his parents had gone about as well as could be expected. His father spent half of it ranting in the background about family and duty and ungrateful sons. His mother was quieter, sometimes so silent that Morgan might have thought the call had disconnected if not for his father's diatribe ebbing and flowing as he paced the room behind her. They still didn't understand. They probably never would.

  Morgan had hung up feeling even more dissatisfied. His reflection stared back at him from the blank screen of the phone. He'd made the right choice. But that didn't mean he knew what he was doing. His mother kept asking him what he planned to do with his life if not hunting and dammit, he still didn't know that part. He had nothing. No plan. No dream. He'd never needed more than that. The one thing he did have was time. Lots and lots of time.

  And possibly a vampire boyfriend. He thought that was where they were heading. Ezra was the single constant in his life and Morgan had only had him for a week. He couldn't imagine
going without now.

  Morgan's gaze caught on the bank of windows in front of him. With the sun down, the city transformed. Earlier it had been streaked with salmon pink and purpling shadows. Now it was lit like stars fallen to earth. As he watched they seemed to twinkle. Overlaying the view was a reversed image of Ezra's room. Someone stood silently behind him. Morgan rolled off the couch and stood in one fluid movement, automatically reaching for his knife.

  The figure held up both hands. "Peace. I mean you no harm." The voice carried a trace of amusement and the smile carried two exquisitely sharp fangs. "I understand you're responsible for returning my brother to the fold only a little worse for wear."

  Another vampire sibling. Just how many did Ezra have?

  "I am Vesper. Fourth eldest. Or middle eldest once upon a time. I've been demoted now. I rank with the babies again. And you can use she or they, it makes no matter to me which."

  Vesper had a friendlier look than either of the other siblings Morgan had met so far. They pressed a long elegant hand to their chest and smiled as Morgan took them in. Dark hair, long on top and shaved on one side. Dressed in an ivory blouse, open to show a slip of lightly haired chest and the thick inky lines of tattoos, and high waisted trousers, they looked every inch the vampire out of time. There was a particular air about Vesper. Morgan could see where Ezra had gotten some of his fashion sense. The resemblance was so immediate.

  "Nice to meet you. I'm—"

  "I already know that. Everyone knows. Seraphine has talked of nothing else since she returned the other day. Do have a care with her. If she's taken a sincere disliking to you, Seraphine can be quite single minded." Vesper strolled further into the room before helping themself to the couch Morgan had vacated. They stretched luxuriously across it, just like a cat, and again Morgan was reminded of Ezra.

  Morgan finally remembered the knife in his hand even though Vesper hadn't bothered to acknowledge it. He slid it back into the sheath. Manners were important, Ezra had said.

  "Sit. Let us talk until Ezra returns." They crossed one leg over the other, hands folded together, and studied him.

  Morgan suspected the request wasn't a request so much as a polite order. He perched on the nearest chair. It had delicately curved legs and such stiff upholstery that it felt like sitting on a very beautiful rock. Morgan couldn't imagine Ezra choosing the chair for himself. Morgan was willing to bet it had been someone else's doing.

  "There, that's better." Another smile appeared on Vesper's face, this one studded with fangs. "Now we can get down to business. We want to hire you."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You were a hunter, yes? Good family. Very skilled. You didn't really think we would leave our brother in your care without a little background check, did you? That's just silly." Vesper spoke so quickly that Morgan could barely keep up. He was still caught somewhere around the talk of hiring, but Vesper had already moved on without even seeming to pause for breath. Not that vampires seemed to have much attachment to breathing as a rule. "And now after everything that has happened we have an opening for one assistant slash trustworthy bodyguard, a post you're so excellently primed for with your past training, even better since Ezra has taken a liking to you. That's another point in your favor. So I've been charged with securing your services. Paid, of course." Vesper smiled brightly.

  Morgan blinked back. "Assistant slash bodyguard?" It was the only question he could form.

  "Indeed. You mind Ezra. Keep him out of trouble, keep him on target, we pay you money. It may be dangerous at times, but you should be used to that."

  "You want to pay me to follow him around." Morgan shook his head. "That's not why I'm here."

  "So have your fun with baby brother as well if you wish. I'm certainly not going to stop you. Just make sure nothing terrible befalls him at the same time and the rest is up to your discretion. Isn't that generous?"

  Morgan couldn't form a coherent response to that. Everything that came to mind consisted almost exclusively of swearing, and he wasn't ready to test Vesper's patience just yet.

  Vesper stared back. "Oh, dear. I've shocked you. Humans are so quaint." They laughed lightly. "I'm not the nursemaid. That job fell to Stuart. I don't care what Ezra does as long as he keeps it contained to a minor scandal or less. This family hasn't had a good scandal in decades. It's getting a bit boring." They rose from the couch and straightened their clothes. "Consider the offer, hmm? We'll talk again soon." And then they were gone—literally. Not until later did Morgan think to wonder if Vesper had misted or if they were just that fast. Either way, the result was the same.

  EZRA LAUNCHED HIMSELF into the room, catching Morgan around the waist and kissing him for all he was worth. It felt like they hadn't seen each other in weeks instead of only an hour or so. As Morgan kissed him back, all that tension started to drain away, running down his spine and legs and out through his toes. And when Morgan took a fistful of his hair and tugged, he could have come right there.

  "I missed you so much," Ezra breathed as his head was pulled back, neck bared. He clutched at Morgan's shoulders to steady himself.

  "How did it go?" Morgan asked before he dipped down to kiss along Ezra's throat.

  The words came out slow. His brain was too busy cataloging every inch of skin Morgan was touching. With his tongue. And teeth. The teeth were his favorite. One well-placed bite and he was moaning. Ezra walked backwards towards the bed, leading Morgan with him. "Mother agreed. I'm free. With provisions I'm sure, but free. Fucking finally. Celebrate with me." He reached between them, groping for Morgan's zipper and the prize inside.

  Morgan lifted his head. "One of your siblings was here while you were gone."

  And there went all those champagne bubbles of anticipation. Ezra dropped back against the bed with a groan. As an afterthought he reached out and yanked Morgan after him by his shirt front. If he was going to be tense, he wanted to be tense with Morgan on top of him. "Which?"

  "Vesper?"

  "Shit. What for?"

  "They tried to hire me to be your bodyguard. I said no."

  Ezra sat up. "Oh. Is that all? You should have agreed." He rolled over to straddle Morgan's hips, reaching again for his belt buckle before his hands were caught. He sighed.

  "Don't you think it's a little awkward for your family to pay me to guard you while we're dating?"

  "We're dating?" Ezra paused, eyes lighting all over again. "Really?"

  "What did you think we were doing?" Morgan sat up on his elbows until they were nearly nose to nose. He raised an eyebrow.

  "I don't know. You said you wanted me, but I didn't know how you meant."

  "You could've just asked."

  "I was trying to be agreeable and undemanding."

  Morgan laughed so hard Ezra nearly bounced off his lap. He tugged Ezra down for another kiss, this one more thorough than the last, teeth pulling at his lower lip until he squirmed. "Well you don't have to. Demand all you want."

  Ezra smiled. "All right." He ran his tongue over his lips. They felt bruised from how Morgan had been biting them. He had no complaints there. "And you take that job if you want. If not you, they'll just find someone else. I would rather have you watching my ass. With great emphasis on the watching." He placed Morgan's hands on the ass in question. Ezra shrugged out of his coat and tossed it towards the couch.

  "You really want me to?"

  "I want whatever you want. But it doesn't bother me, no. I've had secretaries and minders all my life. It might be a pleasant change to actually like one of them."

  Morgan made a thoughtful noise while his hands continued to massage the globes of Ezra's ass, fingers teasing their way towards the cleft despite the trousers hindering him. Ezra ground down against him. Head thrown back. Just a little further.

  There was a knock at the door. Morgan's head swiveled towards the sound before he looked back up at Ezra. So close yet so far away. Oh well. They had time. Ezra hopped off the bed. "Come in," he called.

  A maid
wheeled in a cart topped with several silver domed dishes and a bottle of champagne. When she had gone, Ezra turned the lock with a decisive snap and turned back to Morgan. "I believe I owe you a party," he said in a low voice.

  Morgan had followed him off the bed. He lifted one of the domes to look beneath. The first dish had an assortment of fruits and cheese. It had taken almost as long to arrange the food as it had taken to speak to Mother.

  "I didn't know what you would want to eat," Ezra said. Unsure again. He fought the urge to fidget.

  Morgan set the dome back down. A wicked grin spread across his lips. "Since you mention it... I was really thinking about eating something else first."

  The room suddenly felt too hot. Ezra's pulse quickened.

  "You were?"

  Morgan's gaze shifted to the door.

  "No one will bother us," Ezra assured him, taking a step forward. He stopped as Morgan shook his head.

  "Not like that. On your knees. You always look so good on your knees."

  Ezra dropped, hands splayed beneath him, clutching at the thick pile of the carpet to steady himself. A shiver worked its way down his spine and spread out through his body like every nerve was electrified. He looked up at Morgan, awaiting his word.

  Morgan nodded. "Yeah, that's good. Just like that."

  He kept his eyes on Morgan as he crawled closer, every breath coming through parted lips. It was a shame that the distance wasn't greater. He wanted to take his time, to keep Morgan's attention on him longer. He felt powerful and helpless under that gaze.

  When Ezra reached him, Morgan bent to wrap a hand around the end of Ezra's tie, tugging him up gently. The tie tack got in the way and Ezra yanked it out and threw it away, offering his throat to Morgan a second time. Morgan stared into his eyes, searching for something. Then he smiled. "I didn't know how much I could want something until you."

  Ezra nodded, for once unable to speak. He wanted this. He wanted Morgan. Not because he was the convenient rebellion his mother had claimed. Ezra wanted him because of the way Morgan looked at him, the way that he touched him. The way he smelled of chocolate and felt like peace. Comfort.