ã€ŠTwice Shyã€‹


 False Promises

    A hand lightly made its way up Jack''s shoulder. It was a gentle caress that he might have enjoyed if he hadn''t been at the bar to get drunk and forget about his poor excuse for a life. He downed the rest of his drink and glanced around the bar as he fiddled with one of the drawstrings of his oversized black hoodie.

    Nothing had been updated since the seventies, back when the bar had opened and called to a young and hip crowd. The original disco ball still hung in a corner, missing nearly half its mirrors. What had once been a dance floor was now peppered with round metal tables and heavy wooden chairs.

    The scruffy lawyer guy that liked to sit in the corner next to the jukebox had his head bent, but his eyes were on Jack''s current admirer. Jack was pretty sure he had the guy''s card somewhere from the last time he''d been harassed. He was thankful that he hadn''t had to rely on such services yet.

    "Closing out, Elster?"

    Jack looked up at the bartender. A mostly empty bottle of vodka had appeared as well, so he had his extra shot for the road waiting for him.

    "Yeah, I''m gonna call it a night," Jack said as he fumbled around for his wallet. He frowned when he came up empty. His wallet slid across the counter and into his vision. The plan had been to get so plastered he didn''t need to worry about upcoming paroles and what that would bring. He could vaguely recall asking to be cut off when he couldn''t afford any more.

    He opened his wallet and stared at his debit card. Was there money in his checking? Should he stick with cash? When was rent due again? Did he pay it recently? He should stick with cash until he was certain. Cash was untraceable.

    Turning his wallet to glance at what he had, he was surprised to find a fresh hundred. Remembering his ex-something''s parole was right around the corner must have hit him harder than he thought if he''d planned ahead this much.

    Too bad Mister Handsy Asshole chose that night to visit Jack''s favorite bar. Sure, it was in what passed for a red light district in the small coastal town of Portswain, but Roger the bartender was great and knew when not to be nosy, and the regulars kept to themselves.

    The location also meant decent prices. That, and the business that took place in the back rooms covered most of the incoming finances. It was an open secret that Jack happily ignored and never witnessed first hand, so he wasn''t obligated to tell any law enforcement he was acquainted with.

    He handed over the hundred and frowned when he received a fifty in return. Tonight was a top shelf night, so why was he getting off so cheap?

    Roger leaned over with the receipt and lowly said, "Your friend is paying for the drink he fucked up."

    Jack glanced at said "friend" and then down to the hand that landed on his knee and began slowly edging upward. He''d been roofied before, but it was nice to have someone looking out for him this time around.

    Another inch higher on his leg, and the thought was lost. He blinked in confusion at the hand resting on his thigh. He followed it up and, by some miracle, managed not to flinch away from one of the prettiest sets of blue eyes he''d ever seen. No wonder he gave Mister Handsy an initial chance.

    He quickly shifted his stare to Handsy''s right ear. "Sorry, I got work in the morning," he lied. "I''m already risking getting chewed out by my roommate. Cops make the worst roommates. They nitpick everything," he whined as he stood. The bar moved with him, and he kept a firm grip on the counter.

    Roger must have added more than just a drugged drink to Handsy''s tab, and Jack''s stomach was about to let him know what a good idea his little drinking binge was. He swallowed back the nausea and grabbed up the bottle of vodka from the bar.

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    "Stay off Shetland in the morning and Yarrow in the evening," he said to Roger. He got a small nod and turned to leave before Handsy grabbed him by the wrist.

    "Hey, we ain''t through here."

    Jack froze and glared at the hand on his wrist, almost losing his balance. Normally, the threat of a cop for a roommate was enough to make people back off. Maybe this guy was able to see right through the lie. He could always just call Sam up and ask for a ride with flashy lights.

    And draw even more attention. And be lectured on his bad life choices.

    A quick glance around the bar, and most heads were still down or pointed away in low conversation. No one besides the lawyer was outright staring. What Jack had always assumed was a depressed gym rat was standing at the other end of the bar, pointedly examining the bottles lining the wall.

    And now everyone was worried about him. It was flattering and insulting at the same time.

    "You can''t just fucking lead me on like that, you fucking slut," Handsy said in a low growl.

    Jack nearly laughed at the insult. Sure, he could get a little flirty with enough drinks in him to counteract the anxiety of talking to strangers and people in general, but he''d never moved past a little kiss before chickening out at the reminder that not everyone was like him.

    "Hey," Roger''s voice drew their attention, and he held up Handsy''s credit card and license. "You want these back? You let him go. Take the back way, Elster. He won''t be following."

    Jack nodded and moved away as Handsy argued with Roger. He kept his eyes down, not needing the reminder that everyone was watching. He went through the door marked "Employees Only" and moved through a narrow and dimly lit hallway. He did his best to ignore the sounds coming from behind one of the doors. Either someone was watching porn way too loudly or one of the girls from the corners was putting on one hell of a show.

    He took a sip from his comped bottle and eyed the peeling paint as he headed to the exit. He was pretty sure it was once a pastel green, but years of neglect and cigarette smoke had turned it into something he''d seen a cat throw up. His stomach lurched at the thought, and he hurried forward, hugging the wall for support.

    He didn''t need to leave his own vomit behind and draw the attention of the bar owner. Pimps and gang members were never good news.

    He should find a different bar.

    He burst through the back exit and breathed in deeply. Someone nearby had nice cologne.

    The door bounced off the brick wall of the building before slamming shut behind him, making him flinch. Neither the sudden jolt nor the cool September air did anything to sober him up.

    He haphazardly staggered past a dumpster, narrowly avoiding ramming into its sharp corner. A soft breeze brought with it the smell of the alley. At first, there was that pleasant hint of cologne and then the full and foul stench of the dumpster.

    There was no more fighting against the nausea.

    Jack gripped the side of the dumpster as he bent over and lost almost everything his stomach had to offer. He coughed and spat between wheezes as he stared blearily at the ground. He should have eaten something more than a handful of cheap fries.

    "God, what the fucking fuck, man?" he muttered to himself as he caught sight of a bit of vomit on his shirt. "Now I gotta clean this stupid fucking asshole shirt." He straightened as best he could as he lamented the front of his shirt. At least he missed his hoodie, and the stain would be a good deterrent for harassment on his way home.

    He reached up and ran his fingers over the end of his chin length hair. He breathed a short sigh of relief. Dry and clean enough.

    Jack steadied himself on the dumpster and sighed heavily. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out a couple leaning against the wall further down the alley. He could feel eyes on him. He was ruining someone else''s night. He felt like shit in so many different ways. He should have stayed sober. There would have been no accidentally leading people on, no throwing up in the alley, and no fucking up a hooker''s paycheck.

    "Last time I get drunk. Handsy asshole," Jack muttered before shoving himself forward to stumble toward the main street. Even if Mister Handsy Asshole had put a stop to his night, he only had himself to blame for his sorry state.

    He paused at the mouth of the alley. There was a weight in his right hand, and he looked down to find what was left of his bottle of vodka. There was just enough left to remove the lingering taste of vomit. He could lie about drinking less later.

    He gulped down the rest of the bottle and concentrated on remaining upright for his short walk home.

 Police Report

    Jack glanced around the library, making sure he wouldn''t be bothered in his corner tucked away in the stacks. He readjusted the angle of his laptop and clicked on the waiting connect button in the center of his screen. After a short pause, a window popped up, showing another desktop. He maximized the window and leaned forward, resting on his elbows.

    He watched as the cursor clicked through various police reports and photos. A couple mugshots and their accompanying reports quickly went by. He stiffened as a photo of his favorite bar popped up, followed by photos of the owner lying on the floor in a pool of blood. There were cuts running along every inch of exposed skin.

    He quickly read over the coroner''s report and description of the crime scene when they popped up. Apparently, Jay Cook had died from blood loss, but most of the cuts and stabs had been made after he had died. Jack rubbed at his wrists as he read over the rest of the report, detailing the knives used. All of which were from Cook''s personal collection.

    He licked his lips and reached for his phone. He tapped an icon of a pig and waited. The cursor paused in its exploration, leaving Jack''s screen full of deep, ragged cuts. He managed to pull his eyes away to stare at his keyboard.

    "Fairchild."

    "I¡­ Sam, can you go to a different picture?" Jack whispered.

    "Who¡­ Jack?! How many times do I have to¡ª"

    "Please? Just change it." He sighed in relief as his screen switched to a photo of a kitten in a bow. "Thanks."

    "Why are you spying on me, Jack?" Sam asked.

    "I''m bored," Jack said. "But that''s not why I called. I uh¡­ I think I was at The Charred Flamingo around the time Cook died."

    "You¡ª Did you see anything? Hear anything?"

    "I-I¡­ I remember going and¡­ I left through the back door. I think. If you found vomit, it''s probably mine, ''cuz there was some on my shirt in the morning and none on my floor."

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    "Jack¡­"

    "It was a bad night," he said quietly. "Just tell me the police report''s right, and it''s gang related."

    Sam was silent for a moment. "Officially, yes. But unofficially, everything''s too convenient. Too clean for this to be one of their fights. Hell, we have a witness, but it''s¡­" He broke off with a heavy sigh. "We know some sort of message is being sent. Just don''t know who it''s addressed to. However, I can say it''s not connected to Farragut."

    Jack nodded as he swallowed. "Okay."

    "Jack. Promise me you''ll stay home tonight. No bars. If you insist on self-medicating, then do it at home."

    "Yeah. I can do that."

    "The guest room is always available."

    "No. I''m good," Jack said as he tugged his shirtsleeve up and down his wrist.

    "Do yourself a favor, and stop hacking my computer. It''s not helping you."

    "But if I do that, then you won''t have an excuse to arrest me later," Jack said, a desperate tremor leaking into his voice. "I don''t do anything. I just watch."

    "Jack, just tell me that you won''t do it again."

    "I won''t do it again."

    "Good. Now get some rest," Sam said, his voice quiet and reassuring. "You sound exhausted."

    "Sure."

    "I have to go over this report, so find something else to entertain yourself with, okay?"

    "Okay."

    "Thank you. Oh, and Candy wants you to stop making her draw Swords and Towers. Although, she''s got a good feeling about the King of Pentacles, or something," Sam said.

    Jack''s screen changed back to the police report, and he was thankful that it was just a witness testimony. He disconnected from Sam''s computer. "Tell her to just remove them from the deck and stop spying on me."

    "Who''s spying?"

    Jack huffed a small laugh. "Point taken. I''ll go do something else." He pulled up a puzzle adventure game as they said their goodbyes. Maybe he could get himself to relax with some friendly pixels solving puzzles.

    A few hours in, he was regretting that he chose a darker genre to play.

 Encounter

    Night was swiftly falling, and Jack was in need of an outlet and wifi. He wished there were 24-hour libraries, but quickly disregarded the thought as his imagination supplied him with a cast of questionable weirdos who wouldn''t respect his personal space.

    He made his way to his favorite internet caf¨¦, planning on staying until they closed. In the window, he caught his reflection. And his haggard appearance. He swallowed and avoided his eyes as he looked past to see if he had a chance at a table.

    He was in luck; it was a goth crowd night. He entered the caf¨¦ and made his way to a table in the corner, giving a small wave to the woman behind the register. He set up shop at the tiny table, thankful that the goth kids tended to stick together and didn''t take over every flat surface available.

    The barista came by and dropped off a drink in front of him. "Made special, just for you," she said with a wink. "No charge."

    Jack grinned up at his favorite barista and plugged in his laptop. "Thanks, Missy."

    She eyed the laptop as it loaded. "You''ve never been caught, right?" she asked.

    "I have no idea what you mean," he replied innocently. Why was everyone on his ass about his hobbies lately?

    "Of course you don''t," she said with a smirk. "Now answer the question. Unless you''re edgy over looking at porn, then it''s totally not my problem."

    "Er, no. Just sharing a desktop view. That I shouldn''t be seeing. But I''ve only really been caught once," he admitted with a grimace. Sam calling him out didn''t count. She must have caught a glimpse of his not-so-legal desktop sharing. It was nice that she tried to give him an out, but edging toward the truth was better than the thought that rumors would spread about his potential browsing habits. "And that was on purpose, so it doesn''t count. I''m completely, mostly, above board now."

    Missy shook her head and left Jack to his devices.

    Jack tried to give his laptop his undivided attention, but it wasn''t easy as he had the distinct feeling of being watched. He thought better to ignore it. It never ended well when he confronted people staring at him. He did, however, catalogue his clothing choices for the day, wondering if he managed to stand out.

    Scuffed black Chucks, faded jeans, a plain forest green shirt, and a black hoodie two sizes too big for him. No, he was perfectly boring aside from the pair of small heart-shaped rainbow earrings, but even those were covered by his hair reaching just past his ears. Maybe he stood out because he wasn''t part of the goth brigade. Or because he was sitting alone. Did he look like some loser working on a screenplay?

    He frowned at his laptop. It didn''t matter. He was fine. He looked normal, and a loser working on a screenplay was normal. His scripts just happened to be more aligned with programming. He steadied his breathing and made an attempt to concentrate on said scripts. He was already behind on the coding he''d written that morning before getting thrown off by the police report. He needed to get over himself and stay focused.

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    He startled as the other chair at his table was pulled back and someone sat down. He glanced up and blinked owlishly at the man who sat across from him. Pale skin stood out in stark contrast next to black, lightly curled hair. He could feel his cheeks heating up and quickly ducked his head. He was too sober to deal with handsome men being so close to him.

    "Good evening," greeted the man.

    Jack swallowed and nodded. He could feel a blush forming. There was an accent there, and it hit all the right notes. "Um, hi?"

    "Is this seat taken?"

    "Not really?" He looked up and gave the man an uneasy smile. He almost regretted it. Pretty hazel eyes greeted him. He quickly shifted his gaze to the man''s nose, and he could just make out some faded freckles. He dropped his eyes and stared at his keyboard. Despite the pull in his gut to keep the man talking, everything else about the situation screamed Stranger Danger.

    "May I inquire as to what you''re doing?" the handsome stranger asked. His accent had a lovely Irish lilt to it that had Jack''s stomach squirming.

    "Nothing important," Jack said as he pulled his laptop closer. "Nothing interesting." Much like himself. And if anyone were to be interested in him when he was in a squirrelly mood and looking worse for the wear, it was a giant red flag.

    The man leaned in, and Jack''s eyes darted up. This time, he couldn''t bring himself to look away. The man smiled at him. It was a charming smile that held promises of comfort. Jack could use a little of that in his life. The cologne the man wore was somewhat familiar, but he couldn''t place it. It smelled nice, and he wanted to get closer to get a better whiff.

    "You''d be surprised at what interests me," the man said silkily.

    Jack licked his lips. Something was wearing at his barriers, telling him to give up his will. Everything would be okay. He didn''t actually have anything to hide. A browser extension for flagging local gruesome news stories was hardly worth the effort of lying. And if this mystery man had any sort of interest in computers or literature, then Jack would have someone to share his project with.

    "Just a¡­"

    An instinct embedded deep within his memory stopped his hopeful thoughts.

    The man was too close for comfort, and then there was the look in his eyes that said he had ulterior motives. "I have to go now," Jack said as he looked away. He quickly unplugged and closed his laptop. His heart beat too fast, and he shook as he quickly tucked his laptop in his bag.

    He needed to get away. He couldn''t move fast enough. At least he wasn''t being stopped. That was better than being yelled at for freaking out. He glanced at the man as he stood and only saw confusion and worry. He forced an apologetic smile as he edged away. "Sorry."

    When Jack finally made it back to his studio apartment, he quickly checked that all the windows were locked and had their backup sticks securely in place. If anyone wanted to break in, they''d have to break a window.

    He rubbed his arms as he looked from window to window. Everything was where it was supposed to be. His pile of computer parts was as he''d left it. His bed, a cheap mattress shoved in a corner, was covered in a couple blankets and discarded clothing from that morning. Even the empty liquor bottles still sat on his counter, arranged by color. His CD cases were exactly where he left them: carefully arranged along the floorboards, some at angles, but each in their own specific spot.

    He shouldn''t be this paranoid. No one was out to get him. That guy wasn''t out to get him. Jack was okay. He was safe.

    Before he could convince himself otherwise, he grabbed a chair and wedged it under the door handle. He tightened the window blinds before grabbing a couple beers and hurrying to his bed.

    Maybe he could get a good buzz going and get some sleep before the nightmares kicked in.

 Walk in the Park

    It was a beautiful Sunday morning. The birds were chirping happily in the large trees throughout the park, the church bells were ringing, and all seemed right in Portswain.

    Jack sat on a park bench between Tara and Candace just off the edge of a small lake. Despite feeling even more like an unwilling gremlin dragged into the sunlight, it was one of the few times he felt secure. The only thing missing was Sam. He liked it better when murderers just kept to themselves and didn''t do anything weird. It meant more time with his makeshift family.

    He had already scarfed down his bagel and coffee and no longer had anything to distract him from his thoughts. If he pulled out his phone, he would be too tempted to call up Sam and beg for reassurance that he made the right decision the night before. That his caution was justified.

    "Jack? You seem down," said Candace, giving him a light nudge with her shoulder. "More than usual. Are you okay?"

    Jack nodded and flicked a bread crumb at one of the squirrels that were gathering at Candace''s feet, hitting it squarely on the nose. "Just annoyed."

    "So who pissed you off?" Tara asked, munching on her muffin.

    "Myself." Jack crossed his arms and slouched. He frowned as a brown hand holding a raisin came into his line of vision. He took the raisin and contemplated eating it or chucking it at a squirrel. "I kinda met this guy last night and¡ª"

    "Is he cute?" Candace asked.

    Her question was too eager and bright, and it only reminded him of how he could have what he wanted. "I guess, but that''s not¡ª"

    "What''s his name?"

    "I don''t¡ª"

    "Did you get his number?"

    "No! I left before¡ª"

    Tara slapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, I''d hate me, too, if I ran out on some hot guy," she said with a teasing grin. "Here, call me next time, and I''ll be your emotional support wingman."

    "That wasn''t the problem," he insisted. "It was the way he was looking at me like I was a slab of meat for sale."

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    Candace laughed and shook her head. "If I weren''t married, I''d look at you like a slab of meat. Although, I think a better wardrobe would help."

    "Thanks. I think," he said uncertainly. He couldn''t tell if Candace was being sincere or not. She was tall with perfectly curled, long blonde hair and matching blue eyes. Next to her, he looked like a little rain cloud trying and failing to block out her persistent sunshine. He really should make an effort with at least his clothing, but that would only attract attention.

    "It''s alright to be shy, Jack," Candace said and patted Jack''s arm reassuringly.

    "I''m not shy," he protested. He glared at the squirrels. "I just gotta warm up to people." He thought he was doing well. He had other friends. Or at least baristas who knew him by name and sometimes comped him a drink. That counted for something, right? He had met Missy''s little brother and helped the kid build a computer, so it definitely counted as friendship. That, or he was useful enough to justify being nice to. How many other people kept him around just because he was useful?

    Only good for one thing and maybe a couple other perks. He zoned back into the conversation when Tara bumped her shoulder against his.

    "Then it''s alright to be frigid," Tara said and smiled brightly at the dirty glare she got in return.

    "We can go shopping," Candace offered. "New clothes always make me feel better. It might boost your confidence if you wore something that didn''t bury you."

    Jack rolled his eyes and stood, scaring off a few of the squirrels. Half his clothes came from Candace and her attempts to clean him up. He didn''t need to add to the collection. "I just remembered I left my oven on," he said and stalked off in the general direction of his home. "Think I''ll stick my head in it."

    "It helps if you actually own one," Tara called out as Candace smacked her arm.

    Jack followed the main path through the park. Sunlight sparkled through the dense foliage, illuminating the winding pathway with bright dapples. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie and glared at the ground as he walked. Why couldn''t he just meet someone in controlled circumstances?

    But the caf¨¦ was controlled. Well-lit. Well-populated. Just coffee. And the goth kids would probably have the awkward kinda-gay guy''s back if it came down to it. The perfect location for a first date with no commitment. But so were many other places. It didn''t take much to drug someone. Better safe than sorry. Better to be alone.

    His steps stuttered as his thoughts jumbled into each other, his train of thought being lost along the way. He was pretty sure he was running from something, but all he could think of was the pair of friends he left with a handful of squirrels. He looked over his shoulder and sighed at the empty path. He needed to get home and get his head screwed on relatively straight. He clenched his eyes shut and walked a little faster.

    And right into a firm body.

 Not a Walk in the Park

    Jack cried out in surprise as hands lightly grasped his upper arms to steady him, and he blindly lashed out. He fell to the ground and scrambled back.

    "Are you alright?"

    Jack gasped for air as he tried to understand the words that were spoken. He heard the tone as they were repeated. Quiet and concerned. He looked up and cringed upon seeing the man from the night before. "I-I''m fine," he said as the man knelt in front of him.

    The man looked him over with a frown.

    "Really. I''m good," Jack insisted. The man''s frown deepened, and he could only guess at the conclusions he had jumped to. "Sorry. I''m not a druggie." He winced and shook his head. It was probably better if the guy thought he was high. He should have leaned into it instead.

    "It''s quite alright. I suppose neither of us were paying much attention," the man said as he straightened. He offered his hand to Jack.

    Jack almost reached out to accept the help up, but clutched his hand back and stood. He rubbed his hands along his thighs and avoided the man''s stare.

    "I''m sorry if I came on too strong last night. I''m Kieran."

    Jack blinked several times before glancing up to meet Kieran''s eyes. A sense of comfort enveloped him. It would be polite to give his name in return.

    "Jack," he replied. He quickly looked away and no longer felt the need to divulge information.

    "Well, Jack, may I buy you a coffee?"

    "Er¡­" A chill ran up Jack''s spine. His thoughts were bouncing against each other, and none of them matched up. Kieran''s voice was calming, but set off every alarm bell.

    Coffee should be okay. That was how normal people met up and got to know each other. He was already talking with Kieran in a fairly empty park. A coffee shop would be a step up.

    His eyes darted back up, and he caught Kieran''s smile. It was friendly enough. He dragged his gaze up further and was pulled in by soft hazel eyes. In the sunlight, he could see specks of green. He wouldn''t say he felt safe, far from it, but maybe he could potentially trust Kieran.

    It was getting hard to think straight, but did that really matter? If something bad happened, then there were people nearby. Enough to hear him scream, at least. If he screamed. But could he? Why would he want to scream? Something wasn''t right, and the cotton candy that wrapped around his anxiety melted in the cold shower of a hand on his shoulder.

    He breathed in sharply and pulled away, eyes darting about for something to focus on besides Kieran. "I uh¡­ I have to go."

    "Are you sure you''re alright?" Kieran asked.

    There was a heavy tone of confusion in Kieran''s voice, and Jack shrugged guiltily. "As alright as I can be," he said quietly. "It''s not you. It''s me."

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    Kieran raised a brow and stepped back. "I see¡­ Next time, perhaps?"

    Jack caught himself mid-nod. "Maybe. I don''t get out much."

    "''Out'' as in nature or bars and caf¨¦s?" Kieran asked, his amusement clear.

    How many places had this guy seen Jack haunting? Why else would he mention bars? Was he being persistent because Jack had led him on while in a drunken stupor? "If we met in a bar, and I led you on, I''m sorry. I''m a flirty drunk, and¡­ I don''t mean to be. I''m sorry."

    A hearty laugh drew Jack''s attention back to Kieran. He could feel his own smile forming, and he rubbed at his arm.

    "Oh, if I had judged you by first impressions, I''d be keeping my distance," Kieran said. He looked over Jack with a critical eye. "You''re a lovely looking thing, but, I assure you, vomiting in a back alley is not attractive."

    Jack wilted and hugged his arms tight. That was his life in a nutshell: grab someone''s attention and then give them a reason to leave. "Then why talk to me?"

    "There''s something about you," Kieran said, tilting his head to the side.

    Jack frowned as his mind properly caught up to Kieran''s words. He caught a whiff of Kieran''s cologne and was finally able to place it. "W-was¡­ Did this happen at The Charred Flamingo?" There was a heavy pause, and Jack looked up and barely caught the frown that flitted across Kieran''s features.

    "I believe so," Kieran said. He shook his head and sighed. "I must admit, I''m rather glad I didn''t go in. I suppose I should thank you for your little mishap turning me away from that particular location."

    Jack forced a smile and shrugged. "Yeah, I''m good at turning people away," he said as he met Kieran''s eyes. Just when he thought the caf¨¦ was a bad first impression, he had to go and one up himself. But Kieran hadn''t ditched him yet, so he''d somehow managed to salvage it.

    "I would gladly work on that with you," Kieran said. "Let me take you to lunch."

    "That sounds nice," Jack replied as some of his anxiety unclenched. He deserved a nice lunch with a charming man. He thought Kieran had asked him to suggest somewhere, and he was certain he had answered with something outside his normal budget, but¡­

    "And after, dessert."

    Jack nodded along. Dessert would be nice. Maybe cheesecake. He loved cheesecake. A lightness ran through him as Kieran laughed softly.

    "Yes, I''ll take good care of you, sweet thing."

    A hand lightly touched the small of Jack''s back, and he was torn. He felt wonderful. Bright. Happy. He hadn''t felt this great since before¡­

    "No, I¡­" Jack quickly shook his head and moved out of Kieran''s reach just as a flash of confusion ran through him. The itch of fear settled heavily on his shoulders. Better safe than sorry. Better free than locked up like some neglected pet.

    He''d always wanted a pet, but the upkeep was more than he could probably handle. He swallowed at the sudden turn his thoughts had taken, unable to trace back to what had made him pull away from Kieran. "S-sorry. I¡­changed my mind?"

    He hugged himself as he watched Kieran frown. "I''m messed up, okay?" he said with a desperate edge. He''d just turned down an unfairly gorgeous man, and he couldn''t grasp why. He had to settle on preemptively protecting himself from heartache, and it partly made sense.

    Kieran slowly nodded and gestured to the path. "Perhaps I''ll catch you in a better mood some other time?"

    A short laugh escaped Jack. "Doubt it," he bit out as he hurried past Kieran. He looked over his shoulder to find Kieran watching him. He couldn''t make out Kieran''s expression, but at least he was staying put. That was a good sign, right?

    He looked ahead and sped up. There was plenty of time to hate himself and regret not going to lunch later.

 Shopping for Fairies

    Dark circles under his eyes, a raw lip from chewing on it, unkempt hair despite the newer haircut¡­

    Jack pulled his eyes away from his reflection. He didn''t get it. Maybe on some base level he was attractive enough. He used to have no trouble getting a date. Getting them to stick around was another story, but at least he could initiate and maintain a normal conversation. But now¡­ Now, it was obvious he wasn''t right in the head. His skittishness didn''t help matters, either.

    He used to be able to cover up his anxiety and depression with a carefree smile. Now, it was all laid out for the world to see, and he just didn''t have the energy to fake it anymore. He chewed at a hangnail as he thought about how Kieran had managed to coax a smile from him. He stopped chewing when he tasted blood and dropped his hand.

    No, there had to be something else that Kieran was interested in. Maybe word got out again. Missy and her brother wouldn''t have said anything, though. Helping that kid build his first computer and getting him out of his shell had put Jack squarely in Missy''s "this is mine" pile. Outside of hacking into the police station to peruse their digital files, he hadn''t done so much as offer a cracked program. His new alias had zero reputation and just made skins and templates for websites. Just enough to survive.

    He gazed back at the mirror. Maybe he looked desperate enough to be a quick and easy lay. One well-placed compliment, and he''d happily lube himself up? He grimaced at his reflection. Did wanting companionship give off the same vibe as wanting to get laid? Who could he ask without sounding weird? Without sounding more broken?

    Tara knew about his preferences since high school and never judged him, but she just didn''t get it. He was thankful that she didn''t feel uncomfortable about it and would freely tease him over his lack of sexual desire.

    He turned away from his mirror and went to his dresser to find something clean to wear. Or, at least, clean enough. He pulled on a dark grey long sleeved shirt and found his jeans from the day before at the foot of his mattress. He just needed to get out, get Candace a birthday present, then hole up in the library for a while. No one needed to be impressed.

    For a brief moment, he contemplated getting his own internet or bumming off his upstairs neighbor''s still unlocked wifi. He shook the thought from his head. It wasn''t worth the risk. It was bad enough his name was on his apartment''s lease.

    He paused as he looped his laptop bag over his head. He was forgetting something. Windows were locked. CD cases and bottles were arranged. He looked over every surface until his eyes landed on his keys laying on the counter. He grabbed them and was on his way.

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    ---

    Jack poked about the shelves of the small metaphysical store. He still wasn''t sure if he found the overpowering scent of incense calming or obnoxious. He moved on from the display of candles and incense to see if there were any books that Candace might enjoy.

    The door chimed as Jack flipped through a book on tarot. Maybe he should just get her a gift card. He wanted to get her something nice, something that showed he paid attention, but there was too much to choose from. Too many books, too many candles, too many pendulums, and too many smells clashing together and making it hard to breathe.

    He put the book back on the shelf and clutched his hands around his bag''s strap. He needed to leave. But if he left, then he''d have to come back. Even if he''d been in the store with Candace enough for the cashier to recognize him, it would be too awkward.

    He could always shove some cash in a card. Would that be considered thoughtless? He liked free money. Sometimes. The guilt and indebtedness, he could do without.

    He began chewing on a hangnail as he stared miserably at the bookshelf.

    A figurine of a green fairy was thrust in front of him, and he jumped back with a strangled gasp. He looked from the fairy to the person holding it and relaxed under Tara''s smile.

    "You forgot, too?" he asked.

    Tara scoffed and shook her head. "I''m here for sage. I already got her the blue one of these ugly things," she said as she turned the fairy over. "You should get her this one. She''s been staring at them everytime we come in."

    "Maybe she thinks they''re ugly, too?" Jack said, examining the fairy. It was porcelain and painted to look like a vintage figurine. He didn''t see the appeal, but if Candace liked it, then he''d gladly get it for her.

    "Candy, sorry. Cadence actually cooed when she first saw them."

    Jack raised his eyes to Tara, saw her frown, and looked back at the fairy. "I''m not calling her ''Cadence.'' Anyway, if she hasn''t already gotten them, then¡­ How much?" he asked.

    Tara smiled and patted Jack''s shoulder. "Twenty-five bucks. Like I said, she''s been staring at them. Very pointedly."

    A small smile slipped from Jack, and he took the fairy from Tara. "This makes things a lot easier," he said gratefully.

    Jack bought the fairy and a matching card. He''d be free from his patchouli and sandalwood prison soon. He watched as the cashier wrapped it up in bubble wrap then looked at Tara. "Can you take it home with you? I don''t trust myself not to break it."

    Tara nodded and held open her tote bag for Jack to place the wrapped up fairy inside. "I''ll even be nice and wrap¡­ Woah. Hottie alert," she said, her eyes glued to the shop''s window.

    Jack looked over as he heard the cashier murmur an agreement. His breath caught at the sight of Kieran looking at the window display.

 Delightfully Awkward

    Jack watched as Kieran perused the knickknacks on display in the window. Kieran looked so handsome and sharp in his white button up shirt, black slacks, and an honest-to-god vest. Jack could go out there and have a chat. Normal people did that. Plus, there were others around. He''d be safe.

    But he''d already embarrassed himself with vomit and clumsiness. The last thing he needed was embarrassment over his lack of enthusiasm over a potential sexual partner. Someone who looked the way Kieran did was definitely getting laid on the regular. Jack could only imagine how awkward and insulting turning down the prospect of sex would be.

    The option of talking with Kieran was quickly nixed.

    Was it too late to hide? There was a waist high display case between him and the window with a collection of amethyst and quartz sitting atop it. He dropped down and poked Tara''s leg.

    Tara pulled her gaze away and looked down at Jack. Her lips pulled back as her brows furrowed. "The fuck are you doing?"

    "That''s the guy from the other night. Just tell me when he leaves," Jack whispered in reply. "I can''t¡­" He trailed off with a heavy sigh, shaking his head.

    The cashier leaned over and gave him a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, pal, but he''s coming in."

    A soft whine escaped Jack when the door chimed. He hugged his knees to his chest as he listened to the cashier greet Kieran. How could she be so casual? Why was it so easy for everyone else?

    Tara''s leg pressed against his side, and he glanced up to find her poking around the amethyst. He leaned more into her and pressed his sleeves against his mouth as he breathed deeply, only catching bits of the conversation going on above him.

    "Is something wrong?" Kieran asked.

    "I''m fine!" Jack shouted. He clenched his eyes shut and buried his head in his knees. He should have kept his mouth shut. If he were lucky, a sinkhole would swallow up the store. He flinched as a hand touched his head. Long nails lightly scratched at his scalp, and he relaxed into Tara''s touch.

    Tara glared up at Kieran. "You wanna tell me why he''s so freaked out about you?"

    Jack stiffened and raised his head. He grabbed at Tara''s hand and lightly tugged. "It''s not him, it''s me," he insisted. "I''m sorry."

    "There''s no reason for you to be sorry," Kieran said as he came around the corner and kept his distance. "Do you need me to leave?"

    Jack quickly glanced over at Kieran then back to his knees. So much for avoiding embarrassment. He shook his head. "This¡­this isn''t part of my routine," he quietly admitted.

    "You don''t owe him an explanation," Tara said as she got down and wrapped an arm around Jack''s shoulders.

    Kieran nodded as he looked away. "She''s right, you know."

    Jack curled further into himself. Why did Kieran have to be so understanding? Why couldn''t he just be the creepy Stranger Danger his instincts insisted he was?

    "I''ll return some other time," Kieran said to the cashier.

    Jack jolted and twisted to face Kieran. He was ruining someone else''s day. "You don''t gotta leave. I swear it''s not you."

    "But I''m not helping, am I?"

    Jack ducked his head and stared at the floor.

    Kieran sighed and looked away. He moved back to the door, and it chimed as he left.

    Tara lightly squeezed Jack''s shoulder. "You gonna be¡ª"

    "Damnit!" Jack forced himself to stand and waved off Tara''s concern. "I gotta fix this."

    "You don''t gotta fix nothin''."

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    "He''s been nice to me so far, and I''ve been nothing but shitty." He kept fucking things up, and the selfish part of him wanted to keep Kieran''s interest. He wanted to keep that understanding tone that had been directed at him. He wanted comfort. He didn''t like that he''d have to work for it.

    He should just give up and sit in the corner since he was so useless. Sit back and wait until¡ª

    He flinched when Tara squeezed his shoulder. He was going to do something. He looked at Tara, taking in her concerned frown.

    "You do you, but call me when you get home," Tara said as she lightly patted his shoulder. "I''ll be keeping an eye on you from the window."

    Jack left the store and looked up and down the sidewalk, looking for any clue as to what he''d been planning to do. He found Kieran half a block away, looking in another shop window. He clutched his bag strap tightly and started towards Kieran. He was going to fix things. He could do this. He could get as close to starting over as possible. He faltered when Kieran looked over.

    He tried to ignore the butterflies squirming about in his stomach when Kieran offered him a smile. His mind blanked when he came to a stop a couple feet away. How could he start a conversation? He couldn''t exactly say "hello," and Kieran''s expectant smile said the ball was firmly in Jack''s court. "Kieran, right?"

    "You remember."

    "Yeah, well¡­ It''s pretty. Nice. It''s pretty nice." Not a horrible start. Nothing that should keep him awake at night, mulling over random words for hours. He hoped not. He shouldn''t have said "pretty." "Not that you''re¡­ I mean, yeah. Good name."

    "If you''re worried about my feelings, don''t be. I''ve had plenty of time to grow a thick skin," Kieran said in amusement.

    Jack shook his head and stared at Kieran''s brightly polished shoes. "I''m not worried about that. I worry about stupid shit. Like how I keep looking like an asshole. I''m not. Usually."

    Kieran laughed. "Oh, you are far from coming off as an asshole. Delightfully awkward, perhaps."

    Jack glanced up and looked away. That was what his life had become. He was nothing more than an awkward joke.

    "It''s not an insult. I find it charming."

    "It''s not charming. You''re charming. I mean¡­ Well, okay. You are. To the point of it being suspicious," Jack said before he could stop himself. He winced and shoved his hands into his pockets. He may as well dig the rest of his grave. "Why would someone like you be interested in someone like me? You''re way outta my league."

    "I''ll admit, my attraction to you is rooted in selfishness on my part," Kieran said with a careless shrug.

    "I''m not easy, and I''m not desperate." Jack took a step back.

    Kieran waved off Jack''s concerns. "Nothing like that. I like to take care of others."

    That was a confusing response. Jack didn''t think he looked too much like a charity case, but then he remembered looking in the mirror. "You''re a sugar daddy?"

    Kieran covered his mouth as he laughed softly. "Oh, my¡­ I suppose from some angle I am."

    "I don''t like owing people things," Jack said. He hoped Kieran would take the hint. Sex in exchange for dinner and a movie was not going to be a possibility.

    "I wasn''t aware dating was a business transaction," Kieran countered.

    Jack snorted as a small bit of him unwound. "You''d be surprised." He shifted his weight as he looked around for an excuse to leave without it being too obvious. He did good, but he''d like to quit while he was ahead.

    There was also a niggling feeling at the back of his head that he needed to leave before someone saw him with someone else. He glanced over at his reflection in the shop window, overlaid on a dress form showing off a poodle skirt. He blinked slowly as he took in Kieran''s reflection as well. There were several reasons for him to leave, but he could only think of the one that said he didn''t want to fuck up his progress.

    Kieran eyed Jack for a moment then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He selected a business card and held it out. "Here. My card. No obligation. No commitment. Just a chance."

    Jack stared at the card and slowly reached out to take it. "Er¡­ I''ll think about it," he said as he took the card. "I guess I''ll let you get back to window shopping?"

    Kieran tipped his head. "I hope to hear from you."

    "Yeah¡­ Bye." Jack turned and managed to walk about ten steps, turning the card over in his hands.

    Kieran O''Byrne

    Antiques - Art - Appraisals

    He ran his fingers over the raised emblem of a raven. He stopped and sighed. All reason safely locked away, he turned back and jogged up to Kieran.

    "Forget something?"

    "Just this." Ignoring the blaring sirens, he bounced to his toes and kissed the side of Kieran''s mouth. "Thanks," he said, blushing brightly as he dropped back down. Was that too forward? Too hopeful?

    "For what?" Kieran asked, dumbfounded.

    "For still trying when everyone else just gives up," he replied, clenching and unclenching his fist. He gave Kieran a quick smile. He had to flee before his face suffered third degree burns. "I''m going now. For real. Bye again."

 A Phone Call

    Jack paced back and forth in front of his mattress. He had spent the entire morning debating on whether or not to call Kieran and had decided on trying to find out as much information as he could before calling.

    What his search produced had left him swimming in disappointment. There were plenty of old addresses and a few articles reviewing the quality and atmosphere of Kieran''s antique shops. Surface level, there was plenty. A tidy paper trail all laid out for him to find. Most of it was listed on the store''s website, and he''d been able to easily confirm the information within quick and legal means.

    A pair of dead parents each had their own obituary with lovely little sentiments written by Kieran. Schools, cities, and venues existed. A degree and graduation date matched up with a list of alumni for the university.

    Other than that, there was nothing. It wasn''t necessarily a bad sign, but he couldn''t find anything relevant outside the antique store. The closest thing he found to an arrest record was a police blotter for vandalism to one of the store''s old locations. If anything, there should have been more reports. Once Jack started comparing the addresses with crime maps, he found that Kieran''s store skirted the edges of relatively bad neighborhoods.

    He shouldn''t feel like he was supposed to find some major skeletons hiding in Kieran''s closet. He shouldn''t be disappointed that he couldn''t find an excuse to avoid any form of relationship.

    He stopped pacing and pulled his phone from his back pocket. His entire day had been wasted at the library, trying to find something on Kieran''s character, and now it was early evening. He dialed the first few numbers then stopped.

    "Get a grip," he said to himself. "It''s just a phone call. Not like he''d be at work right now anyway." Unless the number was for a cellphone. He checked the number again.

    The store''s website was so old school, that it had to be a landline. The contact hours were specific, so even if it was a cell number, Kieran probably wouldn''t answer. Candace didn''t answer her own work phone outside of her normal hours. It was a reassuring thought that gave him the confidence he needed. He could leave a message and worry about a return call in the morning.

    He nodded with determination and turned his phone on once more. He dialed the number and held his breath. It was with a lurch of his stomach that he realized he should have written down and rehearsed what his message was going to be.

    The tone rang twice before the other end picked up.

    "Kieran O''Byrne," answered Kieran.

    Jack froze on his end. Did this guy turn up the accent when answering his phone?

    "Hello?"

    "H-hi," he croaked. He closed his eyes and cursed himself. It was just a stupid Irish accent. It wasn''t charming. It wasn''t special.

    "Yes, hi. May I ask who''s calling? You sound familiar."

    "Er¡­ It''s, uh, Jack. Elster. I¡­I''m calling," he replied, cringing as the words left his mouth. Why the hell did he say his surname? "I mean¡­ You asked me to?"

    "Oh, yes! Jack. What a delight it is to hear your voice," said Kieran.

    Jack sat on his mattress and mumbled "Can''t be that great."

    "Sorry, I didn''t hear that," Kieran replied.

    "You''re just making that up," Jack said glumly. How could anyone be "delighted" to hear another''s voice? Especially his boring Midwestern nothing of an accent with a haphazard smattering of learned pronunciation from living in the North East for too long. It sounded like a cheap pickup line. He knew it was a cheap pickup line.

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    He kind of liked it.

    "Nonsense. You have a wonderful voice, and I will always be filled with joy whenever I hear it," Kieran replied.

    Jack let out a laugh and looked out the window. Dark clouds were gathering. He hoped it wasn''t an omen. He rolled his eyes at what was clearly Candace''s influence. The weather report had called for drizzle later that night, not dark omens about his decisions.

    "You''re just trying to butter me up," he said, turning away from the window.

    "Yes, but I can''t help it if it''s true. I could listen to you babble incessantly about nothing all day."

    "Next, you''ll be saying that you could get off from me reading the phonebook." Jack lightly tugged at his hair then stopped the moment he began twirling it between his fingers. He glared accusingly at his hand.

    "It''s worth a try, if you''re game," Kieran replied. "I have an extensive collection of some rather boring books if you''d like to come over and read them."

    "C-come over?" The image of sitting curled up on a couch and reading books with Kieran wore at Jack''s defenses. It was a tempting thought.

    "Why not? I have nothing planned for tonight. We could perhaps go out and take in a movie," Kieran suggested. "And end with some light reading."

    "But, uh¡­ I''ve already made plans." Plans to stare at the ceiling and flinch at every unfamiliar sound. Besides, he had an idea of what "light reading" really meant.

    "You needn''t lie. You wouldn''t have called if you had plans," Kieran said. His voice was light and teasing, not accusing.

    Jack had been hopeful for setting up a date, but he hadn''t considered that it would be an outcome to his phone call. Not immediately, and certainly not for that night.

    "I could meet you at your place."

    "No! That''s alright. I can meet you somewhere else," Jack said. If he was going to do anything with Kieran, it would be in a well-lit, public area, surrounded by witnesses.

    "Very well." Kieran made a thoughtful hum. "I need to close up shop, so you can meet me here. There are plenty of restaurants within walking distance. The address is printed on my card. I''m assuming you still have it?"

    "Er, yeah. I think I know where you''re at," Jack replied. He knew exactly where the store was. "I could be there in about fifteen minutes or so."

    "So this means you''re coming?"

    "Yeah. I guess."

    "I look forward to seeing you."

    "Yeah, um¡­ Bye."

    Jack hung up the phone and dropped it on the bed. He wondered what was up with him. He''d just agreed to meet a man he barely knew for a date. But that was normal. Strangers met up all the time without incident. With his luck, it would end in disaster, and he''d get to go home and wallow in his self pity.

    With a heavy sigh, he stood up. He might as well get it all over and done with. He grabbed up his laptop bag and made sure it held his lipstick taser and pepper spray before darting out the door, flipping the lock on his way out.

    Jack was halfway down the block when it began to drizzle. By the time he reached the street corner, it was pouring. He jogged back to his apartment, uncertain of how he felt about his excuse for flaking out. He reached into his pocket and came up empty. He looked in his laptop bag, hoping he''d tossed his keys in by accident.

    The inside of the bag was dry, but void of keys. And his phone.

    Ice filled his stomach, and his hands went numb as he stared helplessly at his door. This wasn''t part of his routine. He should have double-checked everything before leaving. He hated being thrown off.

    Biting his lip, he went over his options.

    He could always ask the landlord to let him in, but he was pretty sure he was behind on his rent and couldn''t remember if Sam had sent him a bill for paying it for him. If he had any quarters, he could use a payphone and call up Sam to find out or get his spare key. If they hadn''t been ripped out last year. The businesses close by that knew him were all closed by now, so that wouldn''t work.

    It looked like Kieran was his closest and least awkward option. It would also serve as a shining display of what a future between them would look like.

    He pulled his hood back up and headed out once more. It was times like this that Jack wished he''d invested in an umbrella or proper coat.

 A Drowned Rat Appears

    Jack ducked under the awning in front of the antiques shop. He looked through one of the large windows and grimaced at the display of creepy dolls and old children''s toys. A dark haired porcelain doll in a pale blue dress stared back at him. She wore a handwritten note in an elegant script about her neck, tied off with a red ribbon.

    Guaranteed not haunted.

    Either Kieran had a sense of humor, or this was a recurring issue.

    Just past the dolls and toys, Jack could make out stacked boxes and empty display cases. He hoped he wasn''t throwing off Kieran''s move-in schedule.

    A bright flash illuminated the brick building, and a loud crack of thunder swiftly followed, startling Jack. He attempted to wipe his hand on his soaked pants before pulling the door open.

    A soft chime from the bells that hung on the corner echoed through the shop. Jack cautiously stepped inside, glad of the warmth that surrounded him.

    He checked the inside of his bag; it was still dry and the best investment he''d made in years. He set his bag down, pulled off his hoodie, and pushed his wet hair back, only to have half of it fall back in his face. He looked around in awe at the display cases that carried foreign objects. Everything was so clean and organized. Even the unpacked boxes were clearly labeled.

    He felt out of place in the store and wondered if it was too late to turn back. The computer store he frequented across the street still had the back lights on. They might be willing to help him out.

    "There you are!" Kieran walked out from behind one of the taller display cabinets. "I was beginning to think you''d changed your mind. I''m glad to see I was wrong," he said as he weaved his way around the old furniture and boxes that littered the room.

    Jack glanced back at the door in uncertainty. "Can I use your phone?" he asked, pushing his hair back again.

    "Any particular reason?"

    "I locked myself out of my apartment," he quietly replied.

    Kieran raised a brow and smiled. "Oh? I''ve done that before. Sometimes on purpose."

    "Look! It''s not like that! I didn''t do it on purpose. I just left my key and phone. My friend has my spare, so can I call him?"

    Kieran reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He unlocked it and handed it to Jack. "There you are."

    "Thanks." Jack dialed Sam''s number and waited. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure if it was due to being soaked or Kieran watching him.

    "Fairchild."

    Jack sagged at the sound of Sam''s tired voice. "Are you busy?" he asked. The chirp of a siren came over the phone. "Never mind."

    "Yeah¡­ I''m gonna be tied up here until at least 2 AM."

    "Oh. Um¡­ I''m locked out of my apartment. Candy doesn''t happen to have the spare key, does she?" There was something else he needed to ask, but the question eluded him.

    "I don''t trust her with it. Besides, she''s off seancing and decided to join the forgotten phone club. She kidnapped Tara, so if it''s an emergency, they''re about an hour out of town."

    "Shit. That was tonight. Right." There went his backup of crashing on Tara''s couch. The universe was conspiring against him. He should have ignored the weather report and paid better attention to the clouds.

    "Where are you?"

    Jack hesitated in his answer.

    "Well, wherever you are, if you can safely stay the night, or at least until I''m free, then do so. I don''t want you wandering the streets. This¡­ Just stay put. Unless you want me to see about sending someone by."

    "I can take care of myself," Jack grumbled.

    "Oh, yes," Sam said flatly. "Get drunk then beat up. That''s a terrific health plan. Where can I sign up?"

    "Hold on." Jack turned to Kieran with a hopeful smile. "Would you be willing to give me a ride?"

    "I''m afraid my car is in the shop," Kieran said with a grimace. "It was a long drive to get here, and now there''s a sound I''m not familiar with. I can offer to call you a cab?"

    "No, that''s¡­" Jack''s chest tightened at the thought of owing someone. Being under someone''s thumb. Something small being held over his head and more being added to the pile with each day, never being able to dig his way out¡­

    He blinked at the floor and frowned as Sam''s voice drifted over the phone. He needed to stay put and out of danger. "Can I, uh, stay here until around two in the morning?" Jack''s face heated up as Kieran smiled. "That''s when my friend gets off," he quickly added.

    "You can stay as long as you like," Kieran offered.

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    Somehow, Jack knew Kieran would say something like that. It wasn''t ideal, but he had a witness on the line in case something happened. "I''ll call back around two then," he said to Sam.

    "Should I call this number if I don''t hear from you?"

    "I should be okay. But if you don''t hear from me by ten in the morning, then I was last seen by Kieran O''Byrne at his antique place. Either he did it or one of the dolls. Bye." Jack handed the phone back to Kieran. "Looks like I''m stuck here."

    "So I heard. Planning on being murdered?"

    He winced and shrugged. "I guess that was kinda tasteless. Sorry."

    "At least you feel comfortable enough to joke," Kieran said as he leaned back on an empty display case. "Are you certain you don''t want to call a cab?"

    "I''m kinda broke and don''t feel like being a charity case." At least, without being able to check his accounts, Jack had to assume he was broke. Half of him said he was fine, but the other, louder half insisted he was barely able to make ends meet. Always late on rent, and yet he had yet to be evicted. His eyes shifted to the side as confusion settled over him.

    "Understandable."

    "Sorry I ruined our uh¡­date. Thing." Jack stared at the floor, watching as droplets of water fell from his hair. A small puddle was forming around him. He should offer to clean it up and stop flooding Kieran''s nice floor.

    "Would you like to dry off?"

    "Oh, uh¡­ Sorry." He gestured to the windows. "It''s raining outside."

    Kieran laughed softly and gestured to the back of the store. "I noticed. It''s put a bit of a damper on my plans. Come, follow me. My flat is just above the store."

    "That''s convenient."

    "Yes, it''s just one bill for the whole building. Saves on expenses in the long run," Kieran replied as he led the way to a backroom lined with boxes and framed paintings. Beside a large grandfather clock was a set of narrow stairs, leading up into darkness. He flicked on the light switch and started up the steps.

    They climbed the stairs to the second floor in near silence, Jack''s shoes squelching with each step. The dim light only made the narrow stairwell more ominous, and Jack''s eyes darted along the walls as his imagination came up with various deaths for him in what he would forever think of as the murder stairs.

    Once at the top landing, Kieran held the door open for Jack, and Jack slowly entered the apartment, half expecting something that was a step up from his own. He tried to keep the surprise off his face.

    It was an open layout for the living room and kitchen with a couple walls of exposed brick. Sleek wood and leather furniture that matched the decor was spread across the large space. A large television hung on the wall opposite the couch. The kitchen had matching appliances and a cute breakfast bar separating it from the rest of the open layout. Large windows faced the street below, framed by curtains tied back with tassels.

    Jack swallowed down his sense of longing as it was replaced with dread.

    He didn''t want to play Pretty Woman with Kieran. In his daydreams, he could easily play the part. But here, faced with the actual possibility of trading sex for an upgraded lifestyle? And what if Kieran wanted something else? Something worse? He''d take his crummy mattress and lack of an oven any day.

    His thoughts looped back into each other as he frowned at one of the windows. He was having trouble thinking straight. What was Kieran expecting from him? Spread legs? A bared wrist?

    Thunder cracked, rattling the windows, and Jack flinched. His train of thought was lost, and he was left wondering why his fists were clenched so tightly.

    "I''m certain you''d like a nice, warm shower," Kieran said as he placed a hand on Jack''s shoulder and guided him through a hall toward the bathroom. "I can loan you some dry clothes."

    "Thanks, but I¡ª"

    "I insist. You''ll feel much better. I''ll find you something to change into. Take as long as you want." He gave Jack a light push and continued down the hall.

    Jack cautiously stepped over the threshold and into the most expensive looking bathroom he''d ever been in. It was straight out of a designer magazine. He wanted to be pampered, but he never imagined anything like this. It was too much. He counted as he breathed slowly and took in the room''s details.

    Burgundy accents on white, metalwork in a golden tone, and brightly polished porcelain. There was a pedestal sink below an ornate, oval mirror, a cast iron tub with lion''s feet, and a glass shower. Even the toilet was a pristine white with a rich burgundy seat cover that matched the bathmats laying on the hardwood floor. The shower door was frosted with a clear section in the design of a rose. He peeked into the large shower and frowned at the extra knobs.

    Everything was shiny and new, and the dated aesthetic worked. He was pretty sure the building didn''t come with all this work already done. Not at the price it had been bought for. But, if there was enough money involved, then everything could have been renovated within the two months of Kieran''s purchase of the property and when he opened up shop. He felt a pang of guilt at being constantly suspicious of Kieran when he was the one snooping around.

    Jack looked at himself in the mirror, and his spirits sank further. He was completely out of place. His imagination didn''t make enough money for him to even dream about such a rich environment.

    He turned to lock the door, only to find it didn''t have one. Was that to code? Did bathrooms require locks? Was this a murder bathroom? He sighed in dismay and looked back at the shower. The longer he stared, the more tempting it became.

    He decided to give Kieran the benefit of the doubt. If he died, at least he''d die warm and in the lap of luxury. Definitely a step up from last time.

    He breathed slowly as he took in his surroundings with a frown. He''d just been thinking of something. He shook his head as he peeled off his wet clothing and stuck them in the tub to drain. His whole night had been thrown off, and he was running the risk of showing Kieran what a crazy loser he was. He hoped a warm shower would recenter him.

    He opened the shower door and reached for the largest knob, going for water. He paused, staring at his arm and the thick and thin lines of scars that covered it. If he ever needed to scare Kieran off, all he had to do was roll up his sleeves. He frowned at a long scar that ran from just above his elbow and diagonally toward his wrist. It was old, but he had no memory of where it came from.

    He ran a finger along it, shivering at the thought of the awkward angle he would have held the knife to cause it. It was one of the larger scars, but he couldn''t remember seeing it the last time he saw his bare arm.

    He glanced back at the bathroom door, listening for any evidence of Kieran''s return. It would be awful if Kieran happened to walk in on him, naked and covered in gruesome scars. He heard nothing and swallowed as he turned his attention back to the shower and fiddled with the knobs until he figured them out and adjusted the water temperature.

    For the next fifteen minutes of his life, Jack was in Heaven.

 Questionable Morals

    Reluctantly, Jack turned off the water and stepped out onto the plush bathmat in front of the shower. He grabbed a towel, ready to wrap it around himself and quickly grab the promised clothes from the hallway. He froze as his eyes fell on the clothing sitting on the toilet seat. He looked from the toilet to the shower. There was a slim chance that Kieran hadn''t seen him. Very slim.

    His wet clothes were also missing from the bathtub. Maybe Kieran had just come in, dropped off the new clothes and grabbed the old ones without peeking? Jack snorted and rolled his eyes at his hopeful thoughts. Wishful thinking when he knew he''d do the exact same. At least Kieran hadn''t tried to join him.

    But who would want to join a scarred up freak? He''d managed to scare Kieran off before anything even happened. He didn''t even get the chance to fuck up a date all on his own. Even if it was for the best, the thought hurt more than he was expecting.

    He finished drying off and lifted up the black silk pajamas. The night just kept ticking off every piece of his perfect fairytale fantasy. He shook his head, reminding himself how most fairy tales had dark origins. And there was no way he''d come out of a morality tale alive.

    A few minutes later, Jack left the bathroom and stood in the hall. The sounds of a washer chugging along came from behind a closed door. His stomach churned with anxiety over the thoughtfulness. Maybe his scars hadn''t scared Kieran off. That, or Kieran hadn''t peeked.

    He shuffled into the living room, carrying his bag with him. This time around, he had time to take in the scenery of the hall. Paintings hung on the cr¨¨me colored walls. Not just prints, but real paintings of European squares and countrysides in gilded frames. It was much too rich for the likes of him. He probably devalued everything just by breathing.

    Jack stopped just short of the end of the couch and set his bag down. He looked up and caught Kieran''s smile. "They uh¡­ They''re a little big," he said as tugged at the collar of the pajamas. The sleeves covered his hands, and he had the legs rolled up to his ankles. He wasn''t even that short, but he felt like a kid. Or some waif waiting to be seduced by a lecherous rake.

    "But it makes you look simply adorable." Kieran poured a glass of wine and set it on the glass coffee table. He motioned the empty cushion next to him. "Why don''t you have a seat?"

    Jack blushed and silently complied. Kieran wasn''t acting any differently. More evidence that Kieran hadn''t sneaked a peek or noticed Jack''s scars. He stared at the glass of red wine that sat before him. "Um, thank you," he said quietly. "For letting me stay here and everything."

    "Think nothing of it," Kieran replied. He edged closer to Jack and lightly traced a line down Jack''s arm with his finger. "Though I do have one question."

    Jack bit his lip and shifted uncomfortably. "Y-yeah?" He leaned minutely away from Kieran''s touch. His bag was tucked up beside the couch. He should be able to get to it in time if Kieran was angling for sex in return for his kindness and wouldn''t take "no" for an answer.

    "How did you acquire the scars on your back?"

    Jack stiffened and paled. That confirmed his fears. "T-that''s¡­ Where did you get this table?" Jack asked in a lame attempt to deter Kieran.

    "You wouldn''t believe me," Kieran said dismissively. "Now, how''s about you tell me where you got those scars."

    "It''s not important," Jack insisted. What was worse? The fact that he could barely remember where they came from or that Kieran hadn''t been scared off?

    Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose. "I must argue that I find it rather important. They certainly weren''t self-inflicted," he said with an edge of annoyance.

    Anger boiled in Jack''s chest, and he threw a glare at Kieran. "It''s not¡­" he trailed off as he met Kieran''s eyes. Why was he avoiding the question? It had been in the local paper. Almost everyone knew. People who remembered or recognized him felt sorry for him. Not angry. But he didn''t want Kieran to feel sorry for him.

    "Where, Jack?" Kieran asked, voice firm.

    "Just outside Portswain," Jack replied.

    "Oh, joy. I do so love this game," Kieran muttered.

    Jack frowned. Kieran had games? Games were better than memories. "I like games."

    Kieran smiled kindly at Jack. "I''m not certain I have anything that would interest you. How did you get those scars?"

    "A knife." Something shifted in Kieran''s eyes. Jack couldn''t let it turn to pity. He wasn''t weak. He''d gotten himself out. He was fine. "It''s okay. It''s not a big deal," he slurred.

    "I believe we have conflicting views on that. Who used a knife on you?"

    Jack shook his head and moved away from Kieran. He pressed himself against the end of the couch. If he didn''t say it, he wouldn''t have to face it. Wouldn''t have to think about it. Why was he even thinking about it right now? He wasn''t supposed to think about it. He wasn''t supposed to let his thoughts linger on blood and who was responsible. Not when half the time, he held the knife in his own hand.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The world was too foggy, but there was an underlying comfort. He didn''t need to worry, and at that moment, he didn''t want to.

    Kieran reached out to Jack, but ceased when Jack let out a soft whimper. "Then why?" he asked. "Why did they do this to you?"

    "Punishment."

    Kieran''s jaw tightened, and he leaned away. "For?"

    "Didn''t do what I was told. Wasn''t a good¡­" Jack slowly shook his head. "I''m not a pet," he insisted. Over everything else, he needed that out there.

    "Shh, my sweet. You''re safe," said Kieran, his voice soft and reassuring. He drummed his fingers on the back of the couch. "What were you told to do?"

    "Hack into bank accounts and¡­" Jack frowned as his thoughts escaped him. What else did he do? There had to be something. There was a reason he kept his head low now. Anything to avoid being noticed again.

    "There''s something else you''re not telling me," Kieran said.

    Jack nodded. "I don''t remember." Just on the edge of all the comfort and calm fluff was a worrying panic wanting to take hold. The same panic he felt when he couldn''t recall his parents'' names even though he''d been to their graves enough times. Why couldn''t he remember? He gratefully relaxed under Kieran''s voice and sank further into the fluff surrounding his thoughts.

    "I see. And where is the person who did this to you?"

    "Prison."

    Kieran narrowed his eyes.

    A sharp stab of anger ran through Jack. He didn''t deserve what had happened to him. And if the asshole who hurt him ever found himself free, then he''d pay dearly for hurting such a bright flame. He wanted to agree with the foreign thoughts. To believe and trust that he''d be safe.

    "My sweet siren," Kieran said as he brushed a stray hair from Jack''s cheek. "I see you found the clothing I left in the hall for you."

    "They''re a little big," Jack slurred as the fog in his mind slowly lifted. He blinked a few times and looked around. "I''m sorry," he said when his gaze met Kieran''s. "I musta zoned out."

    "Not a problem," Kieran assured him as he stroked Jack''s cheek. "Just admiring the view."

    Jack was torn between leaning into the touch and avoiding it. He bit his lip and moved his head away from Kieran''s hand. "So, uh, what time is it?" he asked.

    "Just after ten. A few more hours to go."

    "Oh. Uh¡­" There had to be something to help pass the time that wouldn''t focus all the attention on himself. Maybe a game. "Have any board games?"

    "I used to own Trivial Pursuit, but I lost that in a move. Anything else I have would be downstairs and rather fragile."

    "Uh¡­" Jack glanced at the entertainment center that dominated the wall in front of the couch. "Any good movies?"

    "That all depends on what genre you prefer."

    "I''m pretty easy to please." Anything was better than nothing at the moment. He could shoot down anything overly romantic or soft core. No need to encourage the already comforting caresses he was receiving, but he didn''t want to discourage them, either.

    "In that case, I don''t have any movies. I do, however, have all the streaming services," Kieran said and handed Jack the remote control. "Please don''t ask for specifics. I only know that I pay for them."

    Jack flipped through his options, glad for something to take his mind off Kieran''s close presence. So far, there hadn''t been much more than the soft, lingering touches to his arm and cheek, and he craved more. But innocent cuddling often led to expecting more. Expectations that he couldn''t bring himself to fulfill.

    He needed to find something that had no chance of having any sort of a romantic scene. Preferably something old that wouldn''t have Kieran judging him and his bad taste in movies. He stumbled across a collection of mysteries and chose one at random, uncertain if he''d already seen it.

    "I wouldn''t have guessed you liked mysteries," Kieran said.

    "My dad loved them," Jack replied as he dropped the remote beside him. He leaned back and frowned before glancing at Kieran. "Sorry. What was the question?"

    Kieran''s smile held a hint of sadness. "Never you mind," he said softly.

    It was during a detective''s exposition dump that Jack began to drift in and out of sleep. The vivid dreams that chose to plague him varied from mystery solving grannies to haunted dolls stalking Kieran''s bathroom.

    He turned to kick the doll, but found a pale man in its place. Slicked back dirty blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and a wide and bloody grin. There was something not right about his teeth.

    Jack startled awake with a sharp gasp. In front of him, the TV settled on the image of a man with a slit throat. He leaned back, letting out a surprised cry.

    "Jack?"

    Jack pulled his eyes away from the screen and looked to the small hallway, half expecting a doll to come strolling out with a knife. He breathed in shakily as Kieran rounded the corner.

    "Are you alright?"

    He nodded and looked away. "I''m fine. Just a dream," he said. He did his best not to cringe away as Kieran joined him on the couch.

    "It''s just after midnight. You could try your friend," Kieran offered.

    "No, I¡­ I''m fine. This is my normal," Jack said in quiet admission. He picked up his mostly forgotten wine glass and downed the contents. "It''ll probably happen a couple more times."

    "Is there anything that helps?" asked Kieran.

    Jack sighed heavily and shook his head. "I usually just booze it up if I think it''s gonna happen. I''m sorry. I can try to stay up until Sam''s ready."

    "I''d rather not have you deplete my wine rack, so might I offer a different distraction?"

    "Sex doesn''t help. I don''t want sex," Jack said in a rush, his heart beating quickly.

    Kieran laughed softly and took Jack''s hand in his. "No, my sweet siren, something else," he said and began lightly caressing the back of Jack''s hand and knuckles. "Just focus on this and know that you are not alone. No one will harm you for as long as I''m near."

    Jack swallowed and breathed shallowly as his eyes traced up Kieran''s arm. He wanted to believe Kieran. To trust him. To take comfort in his gentle touch. He gripped the hand holding his own and tucked his feet under him before leaning against Kieran.

    He slowly relaxed as the light caresses continued along his hand and arm, thankful that Kieran never pulled the sleeve back. He wasn''t ready to show the physical proof of just how broken and messed up he was.

 Not Dead Yet

    The world was warm and cozy as Jack awoke. The arms wrapped around him were unfamiliar, and it took him a moment to realize what was going on. He lifted his head off Kieran''s chest and stared at his relaxed features. He was used to waking up confused, but the position was new. He ran over the events of the night before.

    He remembered the bathroom, showering, a couple movies, and cuddling against Kieran. Something else was there. He concentrated on the memory, trying to piece it together into something coherent. But, like a dream, the harder he focused on it, the less of it remained. All that was left was a sense that Kieran would take care of him.

    Definitely a dream.

    He looked over the back of the couch. He could just make out the time on the microwave in the kitchen. It was five in the morning. Sam would probably be available. He turned to look where Kieran''s phone rested on the coffee table.

    He could easily call Sam with or without Kieran''s help. Or, he could go back to sleep and selfishly pretend things were going right for once.

    He sighed and rested his head back on Kieran''s chest and smiled to himself. Mister Stranger Danger wasn''t so bad; he was kind and considerate. Depending on what Kieran was interested in, Jack could get used to this. So what if the guy gave off a distinctly creepy vibe? It was probably from all the antiques that surrounded him. As Candace would say, their collective energies rubbed off on him, making him seem older than he actually was.

    Jack closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

    ---

    The next time Jack woke up, it was to his hair being softly stroked. He pressed further into Kieran''s chest.

    "Time to wake up, sweet thing," Kieran said and kissed the top of Jack''s head.

    "''m not that sweet," Jack mumbled.

    "Oh, I think you are, my sweet siren."

    Jack frowned and pushed himself up. His stomach dropped at the sight of a damp patch on Kieran''s shirt where his mouth had been. "Don''t think I''m much of a sweet anything," he mumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He waited for the disgust and harsh words. It was always better to take it than argue or justify it. Less pain, less¡­

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Kieran sat up and stretched. "You think too little of yourself."

    "Yeah, I''ll get right on that." Jack looked up and quickly regretted it. He''d been on the receiving end of disappointment enough times to recognize it. This time, however, he didn''t want to be a disappointment. Not when it also held a bit of worry.

    But he didn''t want to bail just yet. He wanted to work on whatever this fragile thing between them was. Even if Kieran said his reasons for pursuing Jack were selfish, that was basic human nature. A pretty face, companionship, a good time¡­ Jack wanted it all, but with stipulations that had most dismissing him the moment they found out.

    He looked away and ran his fingers along the sleeve of his borrowed pajamas. "I should probably call Sam. Let him know I''m not dead or something."

    Kieran retrieved his cell phone from the coffee table and held it out to Jack. "Of course. Call your friend and let him know I have yet to chain you up in my basement."

    Jack stiffened, his hand freezing partway to reach for the phone. He flinched as Kieran gently touched his shoulder.

    "I''m sorry. I suppose that was in poor taste."

    "No, I¡­ I mean, I started it. It''s a me thing. Please don''t make a big deal out of it," he said as he grabbed the phone. It was just a joke. A joke he would make himself.

    "As if it never happened. I''ll get your clothes."

    Jack nodded and dialed Sam''s number as Kieran left.

    "Fairchild."

    "Hey, uh¡­ I''m still alive. No fishing me out of a river for you." He winced and hoped Kieran wasn''t in range to hear. He should stop acting like a hypocritical asshole.

    "Eight in the morning. I believe this is a new record."

    "Yeah, you''re hilarious." He looked up as Kieran returned. He smiled gratefully as his clothing was set on the couch''s armrest. "Anyway, I''m ready for a pick up if you''re able."

    "I have some time. Where are you?"

    "520 North Mariners. That brick building across the street from Rick''s Electronics. The storefront finally matches the creepy vibe." His eyes darted to Kieran. He didn''t look offended over the description, judging by the small smile. "So, yeah. I''ll be here. There. Out front."

    "I''ll unlock the store," Kieran said as he passed, lightly stroking Jack''s shoulder. "It''s drizzling."

    "Oh. He''s gonna have the store open, so come on in?"

 Pet Policy

    As Kieran set about unpacking and sorting a box of rings and necklaces, Jack poked around the display cases. He needed a distraction from Kieran and the store''s security system. Why bother having something with remote access when you lived in the building? Especially when the web access wasn''t exactly secure. He understood getting the cheapest thing out there for insurance purposes. Really, he did. He even tried to keep his mouth shut.

    He managed five minutes before complaining about the company Kieran chose.

    "I''m sure it''s fine," Kieran said, looking up at a camera mounted in the corner. He shot Jack a grin. "I changed the password last night. Rather hopeful on my part, but we shall see how it all ends."

    Jack grimaced, not wanting to start the morning off with an argument. He distracted himself by continuing to peruse the display cases.

    There were things from all over the world and across time. Urns with real ashes, rusty and restored daggers and swords, books that would probably fall apart if he looked at them too hard¡­

    He picked up a large wooden mask with a long and wonky nose. Lines were carved across its face, and its eyes and mouth were wide and vacant. Its mouth had spaces carved out for teeth, of which a few still remained. They were yellowed and eerily human. He''d never wanted anything to put on his wall before, but he needed this mask. He peeked at the price tag and grimaced. He really shouldn''t have picked it up. He carefully set it back where he found it.

    He looked through the storefront window as a distinctly cop-shaped car pulled up. The black paint job did nothing to hide the lines of the standard issue unmarked car.

    He watched as Sam got out and gave the building a once over. Taking in Sam''s rumpled suit, Jack guessed the poor guy must have crashed on the couch or at his desk. Even Sam''s normally tamed light brown hair was in disarray, small spikes poking out from hands running through it too many times.

    Jack slumped glumly behind the display cabinet. How come everyone else got to look like their bedhead was on purpose while he got obnoxious cowlicks?

    He needed to head out there before Kieran caught a glimpse of someone who actually had their life together.

    "It looks like your friend''s here," Kieran said as he came up beside Jack.

    Jack nodded. So much for that idea.

    Sam entered the shop, eyes roaming across every surface. He caught sight of Jack and gave him a brief smile before heading over. "I see you haven''t been sacrificed to any dolls."

    "Yet," Jack replied. He shot a glance at Kieran, who still wore a polite smile. "Sorry."

    "I''ve heard it all," Kirean said and turned his attention to Sam. "You must Sam. Pleasure to meet you," he said and held out his hand. "I''m Kieran."

    Sam shook Kieran''s hand, and a frown briefly danced across his features before being replaced by a friendly smile. "I hope Jack hasn''t been giving you too much trouble."

    "Only when it concerns the masks and spears," Kieran said as he narrowed his eyes at Jack''s hand closing in on a dagger. "I hate to say this, but I do have a ''no pets'' policy."

    Jack frowned and glanced up. It was true that he''d been picking up every pointy object that didn''t look like it would break if he touched it. The call-out didn''t bother him so much as the pet comment. He didn''t like the term "pet," but he liked the teasing tone that accompanied it.

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    "He''s not my pet," Sam said with a laugh. "My wife made the mistake of feeding a stray, and now we can''t seem to get rid of him."

    "I am standing right here, you know," Jack said, picking up a dagger and shaking it at Sam.

    "Don''t worry, you''re not forgotten," Kieran said and leaned down to peck Jack on the cheek. He took advantage of Jack''s surprise to relieve him of the dagger.

    Jack blushed and shifted uncomfortably under Sam''s confused gaze. "We should get going," he said as he stooped down to grab his laptop bag. He edged around Kieran and headed for the door.

    "Right. It was nice to meet you," Sam said and followed Jack out, almost running into him as Jack turned around.

    "Yeah, uh, bye! I''ll call, or uh, you can call if you want, or¡­ Yeah. Bye."

    Kieran waved as Jack awkwardly decided which way was out.

    Once in the car and moving, Jack turned to Sam with an air of expectancy. "So?"

    "So what?"

    "So what do you think of him?" he pressed.

    "From what? Two sentences? I think he has a holier-than-thou vibe, but so do a lot of people," Sam replied.

    "Besides that. Did he seem nice? Is he going to turn around and murder me in my sleep and shrink my head then sell it?" Jack asked, miming an invisible ball shrinking in his hands.

    "I highly doubt that," Sam said. "He likes you, if that''s what you''re asking."

    "That''s not what I''m asking. It''s obvious he likes me for some reason. Does he strike you as genuine? Not out to just screw me and ditch me in the gutter."

    Sam glanced at Jack out of the corner of his eye. "You watch too many of those cop dramas," he said.

    "You live a cop drama. C''mon. Anything. Something." Jack gave him a pleading pout.

    "He seems a bit off, but he seems nice enough. The way he was watching you was borderline predatory, but more like how my cat eyes the catnip jar," Sam said with a smile. He stared out the windshield with a thoughtful look before looking back at Jack. "I''m happy for you, but I want you to be careful. If he''s like my cat, catnip turns him lovey-dovey. If he''s like Candy''s, then you''ll end up with a possessive asshole."

    "So him being laid back and wanting belly rubs is a good sign?" Jack asked with a smirk.

    "I did not need that image in my head. Look, I''m not sure. He looks and acts perfectly normal, but there''s something else that I just can''t put my finger on. Nothing¡­ Nothing like some of the creeps I''ve arrested. Just off. Like a couple of Candy''s regulars. The ones she gets confused over. Normal, never in trouble, but something else is going on." Sam snapped his fingers as he pulled up to a stop sign. "Oh! Exactly like Museum Snake Guy"

    "So I''m potentially like a feeder mouse being tossed into a snake''s cage?" Jack offered. It wasn''t a particularly comforting thought, but it felt like it for the situation more than he''d care to admit.

    "Exactly. Be careful of the couch," Sam said half jokingly.

    "I''ll stay away from his couch from now on."

    "Somehow, I think you''re missing the point."

    "I know what you mean," Jack assured him. "Whatever''s wrong, it''s probably in plain view. And when it snaps its jaws on me, I''ll feel stupid for not noticing." He leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh. Giving up would be the easy option.

    "I would prefer that didn''t happen. For now, give him a chance. Just keep an eye open, your phone on you, and please consider bailing at the first red flag."

    "Yeah, but what if I think everything''s a red flag?" Jack asked in a quiet voice, hunching over.

    Sam sighed and shook his head. "Run it by Candy or myself if you''re not sure." He held up a hand when Jack took a deep breath. "Just deal with the tarot reading. It''s just looking at the situation from different angles. It can help. Pancakes okay with you?"

    Jack looked back at Sam with a raised brow. "You''re feeding me?"

    "I haven''t eaten since¡­ Probably lunch."

    Jack nodded and looked back out the window. "So what about that murder you''re investigating?"

    Sam gripped the steering wheel tighter. "It''s already in the paper and posted across local news sites," he grumbled. "Back seat."

    Jack found the partially crumpled newspaper on the seat behind him and grabbed it.

 The Wrong Memories

    The small 50s diner Jack and Sam ended up in was familiar and mostly empty, letting Jack eat without feeling self-conscious over his every move. He even got to enjoy the whipped cream on his pancakes without feeling like he was being judged over a childish preference.

    "So let me get this straight, he drowned?" Jack asked as he skimmed over the article in the local paper again.

    "Right," Sam said between mouthfuls.

    "After they lopped off his arms and legs?" Jack absently chewed on the straw in his drink. Considering how much information the newspaper had, someone''s job was at risk. He hoped it wasn''t anyone he liked.

    Sam nodded.

    "That''s pretty fucked. Any idea who did it?"

    "It has a certain style to it," he admitted, "but it''s just not the same. I have my own suspicions, though."

    "Oh?" Jack looked up, curiosity piqued. Now that he put more thought into it, there was something familiar about the threat of lopped off limbs. He prepared himself for the worse. "Who?"

    "Just a thought," Sam replied dismissively, "and I''d rather not trouble you with it since I''m probably wrong. So do yourself a favor, and stay out of my computer. I only told you about the case because it''s plastered everywhere, and I wanted to reassure you."

    "A news story''s not gonna give me nightmares," Jack said, slumping back against his seat. He frowned and stared at the remains of his pancakes as the image of a bloodied stump flashed across his mind. He could still hear the screaming, but who was screaming and pleading? He breathed in shakily. "Maybe I should stay the night with you guys."

    "I''ll have Candy make sure the guest room''s cleared out."

    "I thought it was ''Cadence'' now," he said with a wobbly grin.

    Sam gave Jack a withering glare and drank his coffee.

    ---

    Jack packed up his toiletries and a change of clothes while Sam waited by the door. He surreptitiously checked that all his detritus was exactly where he''d left it. Nothing out of place. Not even the candy wrapper sitting on the window sill had been moved.

    "Would you like an oven for Christmas?" Sam asked, critically eyeing the empty spot between the kitchen cabinets.

    Jack rolled his eyes and pointed at the countertop stove. "I don''t need one. Besides, those things are heavy, and what am I gonna do if I ever move? Just have an extra oven?"

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "Sell it to the next tenant?"

    "Then save everyone the trouble, and just give me the money." He gave his apartment another once over, running down his mental checklist. Laptop, phone, keys, taser, pepper spray, clothes, toothbrush¡­ "Wallet."

    "By the coffee pot," Sam replied.

    Jack grabbed his wallet and shoved it in his bag. "I think that''s everything."

    Sam pushed off the wall and yawned. "You want me to drop you off at the library, or do you wanna head over now?"

    "Library. I''ll catch a bus to your place."

    "Don''t¡ª"

    "I''m not gonna spy on you."

    "I''ll believe it when I see it."

    ---

    Happily set up in his usual corner in the library, Jack pulled up various news feeds on last night''s murder. One news site declared it the work of someone named Delaney. Jack leaned back as he tried to remember why the name sounded so familiar.

    He didn''t have to look far; the top hits for his initial search were of several news articles and arrest records. It was mostly white collar crime with a lot of circumstantial evidence for everything else. Delaney was out on parole for good behavior and had managed to keep his nose clean for the year he''d been out.

    Jack clicked through the articles until he came across a photograph of Delaney standing next to a gorgeous blond man. He froze as he stared at the photo. Delaney knew Farragut.

    He tugged on his sleeves and looked around the library. No one else was hanging about in the research stacks. He was alone. He was fine. He was safe. He should hurry up and head over to Sam''s house.

    Jack''s thoughts ran wild as his eyes fell back on the photo. Delaney had to be an official suspect. Sam had said there was a certain style to the murder.

    Farragut liked amputation well enough, but¡­ Jack frowned and stared at his keyboard. That wasn''t right. Farragut never killed anyone. Not that Jack could remember. He''d even testified that Farragut was innocent on that front. Beating and cutting someone up under orders wasn''t the same as murder. But his gut reaction to the questions asked were the complete opposite of the words that fell from his mouth.

    His heart beat faster as he tried to remember more from his time with Farragut. Something besides hungry smiles and whispered promises of keeping him. He had seen things. He knew it. He was certain of it. The images were just on the edge of his memories, slipping into a fog.

    He pulled his left sleeve up and twisted his wrist, eyeing the scar that circled it. A flash of a knife slowly dragging over his skin and the threat of losing his hand hit him, and he screwed his eyes shut at the venomous words spoken in a serene voice.

    That wasn''t right. He''d tried to off himself as a means of escape. Farragut¡­ Michael had been so concerned about all the blood. Had kissed Jack''s wrist and¡­

    Jack rubbed at his wrist as the memory of holding the knife in his right hand solidified over the one of Farragut gleefully licking at Jack''s wrist.

    He needed to get away from his thoughts and the wrongness he felt. He needed a distraction. He slammed his laptop shut and decided to head over to Sam''s house early. He''d deal with the extended tarot reading. Anything to stop feeling like he was crazy.

 Tarot and Starfish

    Jack sat in uncomfortable silence across the kitchen table from Candace as she slowly flipped over each tarot card in succession. Death made an appearance, and he distracted himself by studying the small changes that had been made to the kitchen since the last time he''d seen it.

    Someone had decided that seafoam green was a good choice for the walls, and that it apparently needed starfish and seahorses stenciled as a border along the ceiling in a navy blue. He was afraid to find out what would greet him in the bathroom. The same familiar white appliances sat nestled between white cabinets with pale blue doors. He narrowed his eyes at the starfish-shaped knobs.

    Candace had added to her collection of window sill herbs, and the small potted plants had broken their quarantine to spill out onto the surrounding surface around the window and sink. Lace curtains framed the window, letting in the fading light of the sunset, and he chose not to focus on the lace''s nautical pattern.

    Candace''s black cat stared at him from within the kitchen sink, judging him.

    "Overall, not a bad spread," said Candace, drawing Jack''s attention. "For you."

    "So it''s still bad."

    "Not necessarily. If I knew more about what''s going on, I''d be able to give you more insight," she said as she set her stack of cards to the side. "Big changes, some secrets, potential f¡ª"

    "So you think he''s hiding something."

    Candace sighed and leveled Jack with an even stare until he lowered his gaze to the tarot spread. "You''re both hiding something."

    Jack slouched further into his chair. He knew what he was hiding from Kieran. But what sort of skeletons were mucking about in Kieran''s closet? Rationality caught up to his churning thoughts and stomach. "Everyone has secrets on some level."

    "These are pretty big secrets, Jack," Candace said, tapping the Seven of Swords. She pointed at the Hermit then Death. "Revelations will lead to big changes and decisions. Not bad, but big."

    He reminded himself that he confessed his lack of sexual attraction and desires to Candace in a drunken haze about a year ago. And how reluctant he was to tell others. It still did little to calm his nerves. "So I shouldn''t string him along."

    "Soothing your loneliness isn''t stringing him along. Has he made any moves?"

    Jack shrugged. "Not really. Kinda? I just¡­ I don''t know what to do! He''s all about light touches and smiling and¡­ And he didn''t push for more even though everything was set up for that, and I''m just confused!" he confessed, laying out his frustrations.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    "Do you like what you''re getting so far?"

    "Of course I like it! I fucking love it, but that makes it worse! It''s gonna get ripped away. I just know it."

    "Well, the Nine of Cups says differently."

    "A fucking piece of cardstock isn''t gonna tell the future. I already know how this goes." Jack slumped back in his chair, crossing his arms as he glared at one of the starfish-shaped knobs on a cabinet. "He''s gonna start wanting more, and I won''t deliver. Or he''s gonna turn out to actually be a creep-creep and not just spooky-creepy."

    Candace sighed and looked down at the tarot spread. She ran her finger along the Ace of Cups. "You''re just sensitive to the supernatural. Maybe he''s a practitioner. It could be that he dabbles in seances. You always get edgy after I''ve had a seance."

    In Jack''s opinion, anyone would be edgy around a table littered with animal skulls and half-melted candles. He held his tongue and kept his thoughts to himself. "Maybe he''s cursed. Maybe I''m cursed."

    "You''re not cursed. Not exactly. But I wouldn''t go so far as to say you''d be able to live a normal life," she said airily as she twisted her hair between her fingers. She slowly started bringing the lock of hair toward her mouth but dropped it with a bright smile under Jack''s hard stare.

    "I''m sorry. What?"

    Candace ducked her head and gathered up her cards. "Your readings always come up weird," she admitted. "Like you''re a magnet or something. You, uh, attract things. Like a siren calling out to sailors."

    "A siren," Jack repeated. No, it was just a coincidence. Even Tara got the magnet explanation for her ability to rake in assholes. Candace had just managed to remember a more mystical word to use. "And instead of everyone else crashing into the rocks, I''m the one drowning. Nice."

    Candace pressed her lips together as she absently shuffled her cards. "This could be good for you. A chance to see that not everyone has completely bad intentions."

    "It''s not gonna last, so why should I even bother?" He narrowed his eyes at a white candle sitting in the middle of the table. "What do you mean by completely bad?"

    Candace floundered for a moment, almost dropping her cards. "Well, uh¡­ I mean, I think he''s after something, but not anything obvious," she said with a shrug. "Not bad, not good. Not sex, so you''re in the clear there."

    Jack rolled his eyes. "Somehow, I doubt that. Just cuz he hasn''t tossed a condom at my head, doesn''t mean he isn''t interested."

    She stood and moved to stand beside Jack, pulling him into a hug. "You won''t know if you don''t try. Just give him a chance. He might surprise you."

    "I don''t like surprises," Jack grumbled. "Fine. I''ll give it a go, but I''m running every little thing he does past you."

    "Deal," she replied, kissing the top of Jack''s head. "We can start right now. I just got some new oracle stones that I can''t wait to break in!"

    Jack groaned and let his head fall to the table.

 Stampede

    The guestroom was home to a large cat tree in one corner and a fairly new chair that acted as a scratching post in another. Jack sat in the middle of the bed, tacking away at his laptop. He sighed as a pair of cats tore into the room, across his legs, and held their standoff on the cat tree.

    He picked up a jingly ball from the toy pile beside him and tossed it out the door. The cats chased after it, leaving behind the sounds of plastic and claws clambering over wooden floors. As rambunctious as the pair of fiends got at night, it was a welcome distraction from his thoughts.

    He couldn''t stop thinking about the tarot reading and advice. Secrets, decisions, and changes. Proceed with caution. He wasn''t ready for that. Even if tarot was a load of bullshit served up with pretty pictures, Candace had a way of spinning things to make it seem reasonable.

    He should end things with Kieran while he was ahead. Let the whole ordeal be a wistful memory he could look back on with fondness. Maybe he could squeeze in one proper date first. Kieran would catch on to the anxious paranoia, decide Jack wasn''t worth it, and call it quits himself. Save Jack the trouble.

    Or he could just not do anything. Kieran seemed to have decided Jack was in charge of where the potential relationship was going, and Jack was a shitty navigator. He already made the first phone call, wasn''t that enough? Maybe he would luck out, and Kieran would call him up.

    "Yeah, right," Jack muttered, hitting the keys a little harder than necessary. He lifted his hands from the keyboard as a micro stampede rounded the corner and ended up under the bed. He lowered his hands when it sounded like the box spring was the place to be.

    A knock on the doorjamb drew his attention, and he smiled at Sam. "They''re fine."

    Sam shook his head and held up a small stack of envelopes. "This week''s mail," he said, tossing them at Jack''s knee.

    Jack reached over and shuffled through the pile. Bills and junk. And a flier to Rick''s Electronics. With a coupon. He held up the flier and scrutinized it. In his hand was the perfect excuse to drop in on Kieran. "Do I need any computer parts?"

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    "Do you?" Sam asked through a yawn, scratching at his stubble.

    "I could always use more memory."

    "Couldn''t we all."

    Jack tapped the cardstock against the side of his laptop. "Would it be too soon to just kinda¡­drop in? If I''m in the area anyway."

    "Too soon is setting up shop in front of the police station the day after you called in a burglary," Sam dryly replied. "I think you''re fine. You''re in the area and figured you''d make up for getting rained out."

    "More like making up for locking myself out like an idiot and being an inconvenience."

    "You''re not an inconvenience, Jack."

    "What do you know? Your perception''s skewed," Jack spat out. "Anything that isn''t a midnight murder is fine with you."

    Sam eyed Jack for a moment. "If you manage to get yourself out of this mood by tomorrow afternoon, I''d suggest using your excuse and dropping in. I''ll leave a twenty on the kitchen table. Offer him a coffee."

    Jack slouched and glared at his lap. "I don''t need your money to fund my lack of a dating life."

    "Think of it as payment for distracting Candy," Sam replied with a small grin. "She''s completely engrossed with untangling your future. I might get a full night''s sleep."

    "Is she at least making me breakfast?" Jack asked, reluctantly looking at Sam. He didn''t think he could handle another reading without some form of non-monetary incentive. Maybe he could sneak out the window.

    "Waffles, I think. Her mom sent her a waffle iron that makes stars."

    "Occult waffles? Really?"

    "It makes her happy. Besides, I think it''s a leftover Christmas thing."

    ---

    Jack stared at his promised star-shaped waffles. They would have looked cute had it not been for the sigils drawn in syrup. He was irritated over the fact that he recognized that a couple of them were related to protection. He didn''t need protecting. He wasn''t a child. He was pushing thirty.

    He nodded sulkily when offered a can of whipped cream.

    On the plus side, he had yet to see Candace''s deck of tarot cards or any suspicious pouches of stones. He reached for his fork and sighed when he noticed that the twenty Sam left him had managed to travel even closer to his plate. He grabbed the money and shoved it in his pocket, sending a pointed glare to Candace. He immediately withered under her smug grin.

 Blossom

    Jack kept an eye on the brick building across the street as he walked to the corner. He could easily head over there and say hi. He had the excuse of being in the neighborhood. He even had his bag from the computer shop, proving he had other reasons to be there. It wouldn''t be seen as weird or needy. He had already planned on doing it.

    He quickly glanced in both directions before darting across the street. If he made it to the corner and waited for the light to change, he''d have enough time to change his mind and talk himself out of the visit. Enough time to listen to the voice in his head telling him dating was off limits.

    Jack slowly walked up to the entrance, his heart beating fast and his stomach somersaulting. He took a deep breath before pushing on the door. Once inside, his nerves calmed. He caught the familiar scent of burnt sage and wondered if Candace was right that he was just picking up on some witchy vibe.

    He ventured further inside, hoping to catch sight of Kieran. He didn''t have it in him to call out and attract the attention of any potential customers.

    "Hey, there, cutie!"

    Jack jumped and spun to face the female voice, clutching his shopping bag to his chest. A young woman grinned at him from behind a display case of necklaces and bracelets. His eyes fixated on the large silk flower pinning the brim of her hat to the crown. He quickly took in the rest of her clothing, confirming his suspicions on the hat. A dark blue vest over a white shirt, chunky earrings partially hidden by straight, light brown hair¡­ He''d stumbled upon a real life Blossom reject. Too bad she looked too young to understand the reference.

    "I''m just¡­looking," Jack said, his cheeks heating up.

    "For something in particular? Or someone?" she asked, leaning forward.

    "Uh, no. I''m fine. Thanks." He took a step back, and tried to look around without being too obvious.

    "C''mon, Jack. Hang out for a while."

    "No, I¡ª How do you know my name?" He clutched his bag tighter as his heart rate kicked up.

    "Hm? Oh! Kieran mentioned you. I''m Lindsey."

    Jack quickly met Lindsey''s eyes. She seemed sincere enough. At least she wasn''t prompting him to shake her hand. And it was a good sign that Kieran had mentioned him to someone else, right? Unless it was something about him being a walking disaster.

    "I guess you can just tell him I was in."

    "No way! He should be right back. Pop a squat. I''m sure there''s a chair around here you''re allowed to breathe on. I dunno. I don''t use them, I just live here."

    "You live here?" His stomach dropped. Was she a girlfriend? She looked to be barely past her teens. Then again, he didn''t know what Kieran was into. A friend maybe? Cousin?

    "Work, live. Same thing," Lindsey replied with a dismissive wave. "Retail''s retail."

    The sound of a key attempting to unlock a door drew their attention. After a moment of silence, the door opened to reveal Kieran.

    Jack stared at the floor to avoid seeing the irate frown Kieran wore. He really shouldn''t have come unannounced.

    "Kindly explain to me why the door is unlocked, you stupid g¡ª" Kieran froze as he stepped in, and Jack slowly raised his eyes to meet the shocked stare. Kieran coughed and looked away uncomfortably. "Forgive me, Lindsey. You''re not a stupid girl. Jack. This is a surprise."

    Jack raised his shopping bag, making sure the logo faced Kieran. "I was in the area. I''m sorry."

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    "No need for you to apologize," Kieran said as he drew closer. "It''s a pleasant surprise."

    "I did good," Lindsey said, her voice dripping with smugness.

    "You did something," Kieran replied in a tired tone. "You can''t even use the register."

    "I can use the register. I just can''t take cash. I have this touching thing. Big time germaphobe," she said to Jack before returning her attention to Kieran. "We should have a card only register. They even have those card readers that''ll take phones! I have nothing to do all day when I''m done with research. I have all the prices memorized. I''m that bored."

    Kieran sighed and glanced at Jack. "We can talk later," he said pointedly.

    The situation was proving too awkward for Jack. He was sure "talk" translated to "continue to have this ongoing argument in private." And the longer he stuck around, the more likely it was that he''d be used as some sort of ammo in that argument. "Maybe you guys should hash this out now. I''ll just head home," he said.

    Sam was wrong. He was an inconvenience. He moved to get past Kieran, but a light touch on his shoulder had him flinching and freezing in place. He winced and gave Kieran an apologetic shrug.

    Kieran smiled reassuringly when Jack''s eyes darted up and away. "Don''t mind Lindsey. She''s an accidental hire," he explained. "I acquired her from someone who neglected to warn me of what I was getting into. I would pass her along, but she''s proven useful at research and willing to learn the trade."

    Lindsey nodded along. "I can even tell if something''s haunted!" she said with pride.

    Jack frowned at the admission, but quickly wiped the look from his face. He wasn''t here to judge people on their belief in ghosts. Not when he had one skeptical foot in the door, thanks to Candace. He still thought it was a load of bull, though. "So you''re the one burning sage?" he asked, hoping it came off as conversational and not judgemental.

    "No, Kieran was the one running around with burning weeds and a bell. I''m kinda allergic to sage, so I''d be a pretty bad exorcist."

    "A silver bell works best," Kieran added.

    Weirdo. Jack fiddled with the handles of his shopping bag. He hadn''t thought he was going to ruin the relationship in this way, but it seemed his life wanted to throw him through a few loops just for the hell of it. He may as well be upfront, but polite.

    "That''s, uh¡­ I guess, whatever makes you feel comfortable?" he said. "Uh, with that whole sage thing. I''m not judging. My friends smudge my apartment when they think I''m being really down. It''s more the act of them caring enough to try something that raises my spirits than it actually working."

    He caught Lindsey''s amused smile, and internally cringed. Great, now she thought he was the idiot for not being a believer. He prepared himself for the same look from Kieran. What he found instead appeared to be along the lines of how Sam looked when Candace bragged about getting out of another speeding ticket. Fond, but worried over the potential outcome. It was a strange feeling being on the receiving end of that look.

    "I mean, believe what you want," he said quickly. "I just haven''t seen anything myself, so¡­ Yeah."

    Lindsey gave Jack a lopsided grin. She waved at Kieran and pointed to the backroom. "I''m about to crash, so I''m gonna take a nap."

    "Very well." Kieran nodded and turned his full attention to Jack. "Would you like to get lunch?"

    "That''s not what you just got back from?" Jack asked, his chest tightening.

    Kieran frowned and looked away in annoyance. "Unfortunately, no. I had business at the bank, and lunch slipped my mind."

    "I can buy my own?" Jack offered. He thought his voice wavered, but he couldn''t be sure. He hoped it didn''t. He didn''t need to be any more obvious that he was out of his depth.

    "I do believe I can afford it," Kieran said with a sardonic smile.

    Jack had been planning on coffee and its lack of commitment. He should be thrilled at getting upgraded to a proper date. He wrestled with his conflicting thoughts.

    He wanted to be pampered and treated to some of the nicer things in life, but he didn''t want to get used to it. And as nice and generous as Kieran was, he still had the air of being a creepy asshole about him. Maybe Jack would get lucky and Kieran would slip up, justifying an easy break. Or he''d turn out to be Mr. Perfect, making Jack the overly paranoid asshole.

    Big choices. New experiences. Change. Not necessarily good or bad. Just different. But it was still change and not part of his routine. There was also a tiny voice that told him dating was off the table.

    He hated that voice and the feeling he wasn''t allowed to live his life for himself. Right on the tip of his tongue were the words to deny the invitation. He''d been pushing it. He needed to leave before something happened. "I¡­"

    He defiantly swallowed down the knee jerk reaction to keep Kieran at a distance. The hopeful smile he received when he looked up at Kieran gave him the extra push he needed. "Okay."

 Dive Bar

    Two drinks in and Jack was able to get over his initial surprise of the dive bar Kieran brought him to and begin to relax. Once his eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, he found it meticulously clean with matching booths, tables, and chairs. A far cry from the last dive bar he''d been in. The clientele ranged from rugged construction workers gathered in a booth to a scraggly twenty-something taking pictures of his food to a high end business woman silently crying into her beer at the bar.

    It was also with those two drinks and his current buzz that Jack could open his mouth without feeling immediate regret. And he was still hung up on finding out that Kieran saged the antique shop.

    "Okay, seriously. How can you just believe in ghosts? There''s no proof," he said as he investigated his burger for any surprise ingredients. He peeled off a pickle before replacing the bun.

    Kieran raised his eyes from his own food and smiled. "I''ve seen some things that make me more inclined to believe that some people¡­linger."

    "I don''t think I''d wanna stick around or even have another go," Jack said with a slight frown.

    "Not even to have new experiences? To witness the progression humans make?"

    "Well, I mean¡­" Jack stared at his plate as he thought about the recent advances in technology. "I guess that''d be kinda cool. I remember the switch from VHS to DVD. And going from dial-up to high speed internet. Yeah, I guess I can see sticking around to find out what''s next. But the haunting thing? Like scaring people just to be a jerk? That''s not my speed. Just let people live their lives."

    "I think that''s more of a misunderstanding, my sweet," Kieran said with a slight smile.

    Jack squirmed at the endearment. It came off as more personal than honey or sweetheart. Was he supposed to come up with one, too? Stranger Danger seemed like a nice option. Maybe he could get away with Spooky? Spooky Pooky? He should just stick with normal names and avoid getting overly attached. Maybe Kiki.

    "Talk to a lot of ghosts on your ouija board?" he asked as he dipped a fry in mustard. He was going to have to remember this place.

    "Not exactly," Kieran replied, laughing softly. "It''s been my experience that people tend to cast judgement first before opening a line of communication. Humans are rarely welcoming to those they perceive as different."

    "Can''t see that happening to you. You got your looks, your cute accent¡­" Jack waved his hand at Kieran, hoping to distract from his burning cheeks. "I''m not flirting. It''s just true. People like that. They don''t like, uh, different. Take the schizo that comes into the library. Harmless, but super off-putting. Especially when he wanders into the stacks. Scared the shit outta me the first few times it happened."

    "True, having your differences not be as noticeable is an advantage." Kieran sighed, leaning back. "Being up front or waiting¡­ It''s never an easy decision, is it? I''ve had a few falling outs over how different I am. Sometimes it''s simply easier to not say anything at all and hope for the best. Although, that can end poorly as well."

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    Jack glanced up then away from Kieran''s sad stare. Was Kieran about to divulge something? Or was he just fishing? "Like coming out of the closet kinda stuff? Or weird kinky stuff?"

    "I''ve experimented, but no. Nothing like that. Not recently. I suppose it would align with coming out of the closet."

    "Oh. That sucks," Jack said. Was it just him, or did Kieran''s smile widen? "Makes dating kinda hard, huh?" He should say something about his own preferences, but he was having a good time.

    "It has more to do with upbringing and lineage. Although, my lack of concern over my partner''s gender has sometimes made others wary," Kieran admitted.

    "Oh, that whole, uh, ''must be greedy'' assumption, huh? I kinda get a not-exactly-similar reaction, but uh¡­"

    The jukebox switched tracks, and Jack frowned in confusion as classic rock was replaced by something played on a pianoforte. He looked over to find the woman from the bar leaning on the jukebox, silently sobbing and stroking the polished wood.

    "Okay, then."

    "Just ignore her," Kieran said quietly into his drink.

    Jack turned back around and poked at his fries. "I''ve seen worse. Been worse. It''s just the weird taste in music. Maybe she got dumped by some opera singer," he said with a shrug. He reached for his drink, but Kieran''s hand held the glass in place. "I''m not drunk, I''m buzzed."

    "And as lovely and open as you''re being, I''d prefer you to pace yourself and simply maintain the buzz."

    Jack shifted his gaze from Kieran''s ear to his eyes. No judgement, just a patient smile. "I guess that''s a good compromise," he said before taking a steadying breath.

    Hands slammed on the table, and Jack jumped, grabbing his fork and holding it defensively in front of himself. He stared up at the woman from the bar and leaned away as she stared him down.

    "Benoit," Kieran said evenly, drawing her attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

    "He reminds me of Harold," she said before focusing her sharp gaze back on Jack. "You remind me of Harold. My late husband. Committed to each other until death do us part. He died. I thought he loved me, but he died. And now we''ve parted. Never to see each other again."

    "This is not the place, nor the company, to mourn your husband."

    "Oh, shut up. What would you know? I got your message. Everyone got your message. And now I see you here with this pretty little thing. Interesting choice. Settling in properly, are you?" She leaned closer to Jack and lowered her voice. "You should run, child. Run as far as you can and never look back. You can do so much better than the likes of him. Just a little cologne would be enough to put the monsters off your scent. Whatever he''s said, you don''t need him."

    "Colette." Kieran''s voice came sharper, and Jack shrank further into his seat.

    "Tch. Snappish, are we? Very well, I''m leaving. But if I find you''ve snuffed this flame, I will descend upon you like the eagle on Prometheus. Every day will be agony, and you will regret your life."

    "I left another message for our collective just this morning. Perhaps you''ll find it more pleasing to your tastes," said Kieran.

    Benoit gave Jack a fleeting glance before pushing off the table. "That was you. An odd choice, but¡­ Interesting."

    Jack shook as he made himself set his fork back on the table, thankful that Kieran''s attention was solely focused on the woman''s back as she left the bar.

    "Uh¡­ Okay. I''ve never been that far gone," he said with a forced smile. "Friend of yours? Jilted lover?"

    "We run in the same circles."

    "Antiques?"

    "Exactly."

    There was something about the amusement lacing Kieran''s voice that had Jack wishing he knew what the real answer was. Was one of them actually a fence? Was he potentially dating a criminal? Again? "Right."

 Library Time

    Jack led the way to the library, not quite sure if he was enjoying his extended time with Kieran. It wasn''t like he was miserable, but he''d been hoping to have his library time to himself. He wouldn''t be showing Kieran his nice little corner tucked away in the stacks, that was for sure.

    He slowed his pace as they drew closer to the library''s parking lot. For as small as the 70s styled building was, it loomed with the promise of having to endure even more quality time with another person. Just when Jack thought he''d be able to do the whole dating thing, the reality of his quirks came to bite him on the ass.

    He barely flinched when Kieran touched his shoulder, and he felt a small sense of pride. He looked up and smiled. "So this is it. It''s not a big branch, but they have a good selection, and the librarian can hunt down anything in ILL."

    "I''ll be sure to have a look later," said Kieran. "Lunch was lovely, my sweet, but I must be getting back before Lindsey gets it in her head to make herself useful."

    "Oh?" There was too much relief in his voice. "That''s too bad." Jack shrank as Kieran''s smile took on a knowing smirk. "I had fun. I mean it. I''m just¡­"

    "A tired introvert?"

    "Exactly. Sorry."

    "Nothing to be sorry for." Kieran leaned down and kissed Jack lightly. "Feel free to call me or drop in anytime. My schedule is flexible."

    "Yeah, I''ll¡­ do that," Jack said with little conviction. "I guess you can call or text me? I usually screen my calls and kinda don''t always answer anyways, so text might be better?"

    "Perhaps I''ll text you tonight. You can reply whenever you''re ready."

    "Okay. Great," he said, doing his best to sound thankful. Judging by the raised brow Kieran sported, he''d failed miserably. He didn''t like his personality being fully on display. He liked it even less that Kieran seemingly understood and was being accommodating. "I''ll¡­ Yeah. Bye?"

    "I''ll see you later."

    Jack hurried into the library and made a beeline to his corner, nodding at the head librarian along the way. He did a quick sweep of the stacks then pulled out his phone and tapped the pig icon.

    Stolen story; please report.

    "Fairchild."

    "Hey, do you have anything on either Kieran or some lady named Colette Benoit being a fence?" he asked as he pulled out his laptop and cord. It wasn''t self-sabotage if his new boyfriend was a wanted man.

    "A fence? What brought this on?" asked Sam.

    "Just the way he said they both deal in antiques?" Now that Jack said it out loud, he could see how he probably sounded paranoid. At least Sam was used to it and only called him out when he bordered on irrational. "And she doesn''t like Kieran."

    "Benoit¡­ Caucasian, black hair, blue eyes, five-seven, one hundred¡ª"

    "Yeah, yeah. Really pretty." Jack''s stomach flipped over the fact that Sam immediately recalled Colette Benoit.

    "She''s the main reason the security for the women''s shelter on Fountain is so tight. I think they named the roof garden after her. She mostly deals in estate sales and auctions. Could be a competition thing."

    Maybe not a fence, but potentially something much worse. He''d feel a lot better if he knew he''d dodged a bullet. "She said I could do better than Kieran. And then she threatened him. That''s not a good sign, is it? Not if she''s backing a shelter."

    "I''m still leaning towards competition. Probably not too happy your boyfriend set up shop here. Especially if he knows his stuff and knows what to grab from estate sales for cheap and flip for at least double the amount. Besides, she''s pretty vocal if someone she doesn''t like shows up. We¡­" Sam broke off with a heavy sigh before continuing with a softer tone. "Yeah, she was the first complaint we got against Farragut."

    "Oh." Jack took a steadying breath. It was just a name, and it was in the past. "So she hasn''t¡­ Kieran''s clean in her books?"

    "No phone calls from concerned citizens."

    "Okay. Good."

    Jack had to admit it made sense. More sense than a pair of competing criminals. Benoit wasn''t at all pleased about whatever "message" Kieran had left. And "everyone" had to be their little antiquing community. Just how cutthroat and territorial did those people get? A small laugh escaped him at the thought of a little old man in a sweater vest wielding a large sword.

    "What''s that giggle for?"

    "Just thinking about people wearing tweed and having turf wars."

    "You''d be surprised."

    Jack perked up at the implications. "Are there mugshots?"

    "In the archives, and I''m not digging them out for you. Submit a formal request like a normal person. And good luck finding what you''re looking for without a name or date range."

    "Maybe Kieran can hook me up."

    "You never know."

    Jack settled back in his seat, feeling a little better about his dating prospects. "What''s a good pet name that isn''t Mister Spooky Stranger Danger?"

    "Practically anything."

 Suspiciously Good

    Slowly opening the door to his apartment, Jack ran a critical eye along every surface. Everything was in its place. He stepped inside and locked the door, double-checking before he turned the deadbolt.

    It was the end of a pretty decent day. Aside from that Benoit lady, everything had gone well. He got to enjoy a proper date, walk off an afternoon buzz with a handsome man, and then be left alone afterward. Perfect.

    Too perfect.

    He dropped onto his mattress and groaned in frustration as he slumped over. Kieran was too understanding. Too considerate. Jack loved it and hated it.

    There had to be something else lurking under the surface. Some disastrous flaw. Something that would let Jack cut ties without feeling like he was afraid of commitment. Or getting caught.

    As soon as the thought was there, it was gone. He was left with the feeling that he needed to find a way out of his shiny new relationship.

    His phone pinged, and he fished it out of his back pocket. He pulled up the text and stared at the message. Kieran had texted him. Kieran texted like he was writing a letter. Jack told himself it wasn''t charming.

    My Sweet Jack,

    I deeply enjoyed spending time with you today. I do hope you will be rested and willing to meet up tomorrow night. We can either go out or spend a quiet night in.

    If you would like to hold off for a few days, then I completely understand. The choice is yours, my sweet.

    -Kieran

    Could he get away with me 2 lol c u l8r? He should probably put some effort into it. After a few minutes of crafting and deleting his reply, he sent the message along, proud of himself for not dropping too many letters.

    yeah, tomorrow works

    will let u kno if change mind

    6 ok?

    He stared at his phone as a light wave of nausea settled over him. He had plenty of time to either hype himself up or chicken out. Or hype himself up to chicken out. He should have asked for an extra day. Maybe he could lie and say something came up, but what if he got caught in his lie?

    "Shit, shit, shit¡­"

    He grimaced when he received Kieran''s response.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I look forward to seeing you.

    He ignored the text and called Tara.

    "Wazzup?"

    "Is it bad to see someone three days in a row?"

    The silence on the other end was broken up by the sounds of an action flick and a deliberately slow crunch. "Yeah, I''m doing pretty good. And you?"

    "Freaking out, in case you didn''t notice!"

    "Fine, what was it? You saw your hot boyfriend three days in a row? Not really a bad thing. He''s pretty yummy. He has my seal of approval. Send him my way if you break up."

    "Yeah, whatever. Is this normal?" He needed answers from someone who actually dated and had a decent track record with keeping partners around for almost a year. Or a couple months. Maybe he should have relied on Sam and Candace instead.

    "For some people. I once stayed with a guy for a week right after we met."

    "Sharing a hotel room in Vegas isn''t the same thing!"

    "Look, Jack, it''s not as bad as you''re making it out to be," Tara replied with a sigh. "It''s not as bad as you want it to be."

    "I don''t wa¡ª"

    "Are you looking for a reason to bail?"

    Jack glared at his lap in silence. That was the problem with being friends with someone most of your life. They knew what you were about and all your bad habits.

    "There ya'' go. You''re hyper analyzing everything, looking for an excuse to cut and run. I get it, man. It''s a new relationship, and it''s scary. If you want me to tag along in the background, I will."

    "No. I just don''t wanna seem desperate and give him the wrong idea," he said, hoping it sounded like a legitimate reason. It was part of his concern, but was quickly being overshadowed by his worries that Kieran was too accommodating.

    "Then put it off for a few days. I''ve rescheduled dates at the last minute because my nails weren''t dry. It''ll be a good test. If he freaks out, then he ain''t worth it. And the moment he calls you a bitch or whore or something, you ditch his ass. Then call me. Me ''n'' my cousin''ll show him what''s what if he doesn''t leave you alone."

    "Yeah, I''ll try that."

    "So other than that, how is he treating you?"

    "Suspiciously good," he admitted. He sank further into his mattress as Tara''s silence stretched on.

    "Yeah. Definitely reschedule," she eventually replied. "Do it for a day later, then reschedule again with two days between."

    "That''s really shifty, Tara."

    "Then don''t," Tara said with an exasperated sigh. "But if you need an excuse to bail on tomorrow night, we can go see a movie."

    "I''ll think about it."

    "Shoot me a text whenever. I''m working tomorrow, but I''ll keep my phone on me. Oh, and I need a reliable tournament partner for Pixie Battles. So be ready to support me at twelve everyday this week."

    "Sure," he glumly replied. He had no idea that Tara would get hooked on the stupid game he''d picked out. But if it meant there was a hidden way for him to touch base everyday, then he''d deal with it.

    "Now that that dilemma''s out of the way, get any good gigs?"

    "Missy knows the owner of that new bakery on Main and sent her my way." Jack happily threw himself into explaining his plans for the website, grateful for the distraction from his spiraling thoughts.

 Burnt Out

    It was just before noon when Jack managed to drag himself out of bed. By one, he was holed up in his corner in the library stacks. He needed to get to work on the website for Missy''s baker friend, and he felt like shit. For once, it wasn''t because he was hungover. By some miracle, he''d been too worked up by Kieran''s text and his commitment to meet up to do anything more than drink half a beer and stare at the ceiling.

    Once properly set up, Jack pulled up a local news station''s website and looked through the headlines, hoping to get himself distracted enough to get into a decent headspace for working. He paused as he came across a reported fire in a richer neighborhood the morning before. Schadenfreude took over, and he clicked the link.

    He didn''t recognize any names as he skimmed through the article. Just some accountant found dead in his burnt out house.

    He paused at a before and after photo of the house. There was something familiar about the front gate. The longer he stared at it, the less familiar it felt. He must have seen it in passing or a similar one in front of another house.

    Curiosity got the best of him, and he pulled up a street view of the address. He clicked around, checking out the other side of the street, and his heart stopped. In the middle of the screen was a ritzy Cape Cod-style house. It had an ornate wrought iron gate, and a pair of stone lions guarding the front door. On Halloween, the lions would be dressed up in costumes and adorned with large googly eyes.

    He shook as he panned to the next house, already knowing there would be a large fountain on the front lawn. The next house had perfectly trimmed rose bushes and an ugly garden gnome with sunglasses. The sign the gnome held was too small to read, but Jack knew it said "I''m with stupid" and pointed to the house with the fountain.

    He knew that street. He knew those buildings. He''d seen them so many times. Why couldn''t he remember the street name or how to get there? He had memories of everything else on the street but the burnt out house. How was that even possible?

    The squeaking wheel of a book cart pulled his attention away, and he quickly ducked his head as he got his breathing under control. He stared at his keyboard as his heart slowed back to a normal pace. Frowning at the keys, he ran his fingers over them. Why was he panicking?

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    He looked up, preparing himself for the worst, but just saw an image of some pretentious house with an overly groomed lawn. He recognized the street, but couldn''t recall why he''d been looking it up. He closed the tab and gave the news article a quick once over. He could vaguely recall reading it.

    He came to the conclusion that one of the houses on that street had burned down. How sad for the poor rich people. He closed his browser and stretched before starting his work on the bakery website.

    As he worked, he couldn''t help but feel like he was forgetting something. He had his keys and phone sitting reassuringly next to him. He checked his texts and email, but nothing stood out. He hoped it wasn''t something important.

    Jack glanced at his phone again. He still had time to bail on his date. He bit his lip as he grabbed his phone and shot Kieran a text.

    sry gotta bail

    working on website n wanna finish

    He set his phone aside and tried to focus on the doodle the baker had drawn up. What sort of reply would Kieran send? Would he catch Jack in his lie? It wasn''t a lie. Not exactly. He would be working on the website for more than a week, and he would like to get that day''s work done. It wasn''t a flimsy excuse if he was actually working.

    His phone buzzed with the promise of an incoming text, and he wished he''d done this in the bathroom. He''d rather be busy throwing up than find out how Kieran dealt with disappointment.

    He managed to ignore his phone for about half an hour before giving in and checking the reply. He told himself enough time had passed, and checking his phone had nothing to do with the fact that he couldn''t type out a simple hyperlink.

    The joys of monetary obligation. I completely understand, my sweet. Would Sunday be better?

    No cussing, no derogatory language. Just an offer to reschedule to an even later date than what Jack had been planning. There wasn''t a second text, asking for an answer. Even Tara would send him random punctuation if she thought he was taking too long.

    suns k 6 still good 4me

    He read over their small conversation. He was a text gremlin, incapable of stringing two coherent sentences together. He sighed and added Kieran as an official contact. After typing out Kieran''s name, he decided against it and put "Kiki" instead. He then deleted their current conversation as paranoia slowly crept over his spine.

 Spooked

    Sunday rolled around, and Jack met up with Sam and Candace at the park just after ten in the morning. Scattered clouds drifted across the sky, making the sunshine a bit more bearable.

    "I have a date with Kieran tonight," Jack blurted when he reached them.

    "Are we shopping for a new outfit?" asked Candace, her smile brightening at the prospect.

    "No. What I''m wearing right now''s fine." He looked down at himself then back to Sam and Candace. His clothes were the cleanest they''d ever been. He had stayed in the apartment building''s laundry room the night before to make sure they got done without any other residents interfering.

    His shirt was on the large side, and the sleeves covered his hands. Anxiety had filled his night, and his nails were a nibbled mess. Most of his fingers sported bandaids to keep him from gnawing off the rest of his hangnails and cuticles.

    He pulled his hoodie''s zipper up and down as he glared at the ground. He was a mess, but he was clean mess. That should be all that mattered. He looked up uncertainly. "It''s fine. Right?"

    Sam patted Candace''s shoulder as he shook his head at her. "It''s fine, Jack."

    "But if you ever wanna go shopping, I know some great boutiques," Candace added as she looped her arm through Jack''s and headed closer to the nearby lake.

    "And some great boutiques know my credit card number," Sam muttered, following the pair.

    "One time. And I paid you back," Candace happily replied.

    "And, for some reason, these great boutiques have my email."

    "Birthday ideas, my darling beloved!"

    Jack relaxed in Candace''s hold as they walked around the small lake. He let her voice settle over him as she complained about one of her clients never taking her advice. Between her and the soft sounds of the lake lapping at the shore, he could almost ignore the sense of impending doom that lingered about him.

    About halfway around the lake, Tara joined them and took Jack''s other arm. She waved her phone at him, showing off a movie ticket.

    "If you''re in a good mood, we''re seeing Haunting on Bell Street 5 in forty-five minutes," Tara said as she tugged on Jack''s arm. "You guys are invited, but I only bought me ''n'' Jack tickets."

    "There''s a fifth?" Jack asked, unable to mask his lack of enthusiasm. He wasn''t much into horror flicks, but the Bell Street series was campy enough that they didn''t spark nightmares. Usually. And if he did end up plagued by nightmares, he wouldn''t be bothering Kieran with them that night.

    "And greenlit for a sixth!" Tara said in delight.

    Candace looked up at Sam with a small grimace. "I think we''ll skip that."

    ---

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Jack made it to the antique shop just in time to hear church bells in the distance. He pushed open the door and marveled at the progress that had been made. Almost all of the boxes were gone, and the display cases were neatly arranged, creating short aisles throughout the space. Despite the collection of worn down teddy bears sitting next to the register, the place felt cozy and welcoming.

    Just behind the register, his tribal mask hung on the wall and had found itself a few friends. Its hypnotic lack of eyes drew him in, and its creepily realistic teeth begged to gnaw on his soul. He needed that mask. Would it be too weird to take a couple pictures of it?

    "Kieran''ll be down in a sec, I''m sure," Lindsey said from behind Jack.

    "Jesus, fuck! Don''t do that!" Jack banged into the register counter in his attempt to get away from the sudden and cheerful greeting, knocking over a couple bears. He ducked his head and glared at the floor as his cheeks burned with embarrassment. He wished he hadn''t left his laptop bag at his apartment. He''d look less weird grabbing the strap instead of his sleeves.

    He needed something to distract him from his embarrassment, and cleaning up would have to do. He bent down and grabbed up the fallen bears, hoping they weren''t fragile. At least none of the overly creepy ones ended up on the floor. He lost his grip on one when he saw how much it was going for.

    He breathed shakily as a pair of shoes came into view. Soft leather and much too big for Lindsey. He swallowed back an apology and clenched his first, hugging it to his chest. Unable to move, he watched as Kieran picked up the two hundred dollar teddy bear. He blinked and breathed a little easier as Kieran tossed it carelessly onto the counter.

    He glanced up and wilted further under Kieran''s soft smile. "Sorry," he croaked out.

    Kieran shook his head and gently took the other bears from Jack''s arm. "They''re just old Steiffs," he explained as he stood. "They can handle being dropped and thrown about. Anything truly fragile is under lock and key."

    Jack nodded jerkily, still feeling like he could have broken something. He stood and glanced at Lindsey as she poked around the display cases. She wore her dark vest and flower-pinned hat. Was it the same shirt, too? Maybe it was her favorite outfit, or he just happened to catch her wearing the same clothes as when they first met. Not that he could really blame her. He would love it if he had only one outfit to choose from. He turned his attention back to Kieran.

    Kieran looked sharp in his black shirt with red stitching and buttons, and it only made Jack more self conscious of his own clothing choices. He needed to schedule that shopping trip with Candace for a week or so out. That might give him enough time to prepare. But Kieran, ever the attentive and observant jerk, would notice the change in fashion.

    "Just give me a moment to lock up. Is there anywhere you would like to go?" asked Kieran. He picked his way past the display cases to the door and looked over his shoulder.

    "I, uh, didn''t really think about it. No movies. I got dragged to one earlier."

    "Are there any restaurants that you''ve had your eye on? Perhaps The Vault?"

    Jack pulled his gaze away from the floor to stare at Kieran''s back. He''d had The Vault in mind for a long time. It was a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that wasn''t cheap. He could vaguely recall mentioning it to Kieran once, but not the specifics. He heard they had really good cheesecake. "Maybe some other time? There''s a nice pizza joint over on Federal. They have pasta and stuff."

    "If it''s a money issue, don''t worry about it. It''s my treat."

    Was he that obvious? Or did he look too poor to exist? "It was your treat last time," Jack argued.

    "What can I say? I like taking care of others."

    "But I¡­ I''m not dressed right," Jack said, raising his arms slightly and dropping them.

    "Nonsense. But if you''re truly worried about it, I''ll loan you a coat."

    Wearing one of Kieran''s coats would be nice. It would be big enough that Jack would still feel hidden from the world and get to pretend to be posh at the same time.

    "You won''t look out of place," Kieran promised. "No one will pay you any mind."

    Jack breathed in slowly as his stomach churned. "Okay."

 The Vault

    The Mariner Building''s corner stone proudly declared its date of construction in 1892. It had long since been converted from a bank into a set of shops on the first floor and office space on the second and third floors. Beneath its heavy architecture lay The Vault. The defunct street access elevator had been converted into a chic set of neon-lined stairs with an old bank vault door at the base.

    The two block walk in the brisk night air did little to entice Jack into looking forward to the warmth of being inside. Fortunately, The Vault was not as ritzy as he''d been expecting. It still looked pricey and intimidating with its vintage bank-themed d¨¦cor. Then again, Jack''s idea of pricey was more than a little skewed.

    Inside, the tables and bar were crowded with chattering groups. Jack''s heart sank when he caught sight of a couple college kids dressed worse than him. He could have kept his hoodie. He would have been shivering but comfortable.

    He pressed himself against Kieran and tightly gripped his arm, breathing through the creeping panic of the crowd seemingly pressing in. He let go after slowly exhaling. He could do this. Dating was normal. Being seen in public with someone else was normal. He was allowed to date people. No one owned him.

    "Hello! Welcome to The Vault. How many?" greeted the hostess, her expression tired, but cheerful.

    "I''ve a reservation for two under O''Byrne. Possibly O''Brien." Kieran''s smile was friendly, but there was a tinge of annoyance laced through his voice.

    Jack looked up as Kieran''s accent thickened and caught the tight smile. He was lucky that he had an easy name. He was pretty sure his middle name was the exception, but, without checking his ID, he couldn''t be sure. At least he knew when his birthday was. He watched as the waitress scanned her list, doing his best to ignore the pang of uncertainty.

    The hostess looked up with a light blush and grabbed a handful of menus. "Looks like you spoke to Kelsey. Right this way!"

    Curiosity got the best of him, and Jack quickly glanced around to make sure he was being ignored and stole a peek at the reservation list as they passed by. A pair of hearts caught his eye before he could skim the times.

    O''Sexy voice - you''ll know who! ????

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    For a brief moment, he felt lighter. Then the realization hit him that he was going to be the center of that night''s gossip for the staff. What was a handsome foreigner doing with a mangy stray like him? He should have taken Candace up on her offer to go shopping, being called out on the new wardrobe be damned.

    Too late now.

    His apprehension grew as they moved further into the restaurant. He trailed a step behind Kieran, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. Maybe if people thought they were just there as friends, it wouldn''t be so bad. Maybe if he wasn''t so paranoid that he thought everyone they passed was staring at him, then his whole life wouldn''t be so bad.

    He glared at Kieran''s back as he wished he could get some medication for his issues. Five different prescriptions, and the same result every single time. The fog and missing time got worse. He''d take being paranoid and anxious over not remembering Tara''s name.

    They reached their table, and Jack reluctantly pulled off his loaned coat and set it over the seat back. Tugging at his sleeves, he sat down and missed most of the night''s specials. He grabbed up the drink menu and compared all the vodka-based cocktails being offered. His eyes kept drifting to the historical facts about the building that corresponded with the drink names.

    "So. Reservations," Jack said when he thought the hostess was out of range. "I don''t remember you calling anyone."

    "I took a chance," Kieran said with an easy shrug. "Thought I''d surprise you. It''s also easier to cancel a reservation than to schedule one at the last minute."

    "Okay. Makes sense."

    "We can go somewhere else if you''re uncomfortable," Kieran quietly offered.

    "W-what? No! I''m fine," Jack insisted, taking in the other occupied tables. The restaurant was fairly crowded, and they were nowhere near the front. "It''ll be worse if we leave. Just¡­ Just lemme get something in me, and I''ll be set." He looked at Kieran, and his stomach sank at the disappointed frown. "Please? There''s a lot of people, and I feel like they''re staring. I know they''re not," he added before Kieran could argue. "It''s irrational. I know it is, but that doesn''t change it."

    Kieran sighed and nodded as he waved his hand at the menu Jack held. "If it will make you feel better."

    Jack bit his lip and glared at the menu and its black and white photos of gangsters with tommy guns. He shouldn''t have said anything. Now he was being judged for his very slight drinking problem. At least he wasn''t on the receiving end of Kieran''s side eye of the rambunctious group of college students a couple tables over. He hoped they stayed too drunk to notice.

    Starting with a vodka martini sounded like a good idea. If only he could figure out what ridiculous name the restaurant had given it.

 Supposedly

    Skimming through the dessert menu on Kieran''s insistence, Jack lingered on the description of the cheesecake. He really shouldn''t, but Kieran could be pretty persuasive. And so could the pictures.

    When the cheesecake arrived, it was even better than he could have imagined. He took in the pristine slice covered in a raspberry and chocolate drizzle and topped with raspberries, strawberry slices, and small chocolates shaped like flowers. They looked nearly identical to the flower that adorned Lindsey''s hat.

    "How many outfits does Lindsey have?" Jack asked. He gingerly pulled a chocolate free and popped it in his mouth. "And please tell me they''re all Blossom-themed."

    "Blossom?" asked Kieran. He gave Jack a confused frown. "I don''t believe she has much of a floral theme beyond the one on her hat."

    "No, I mean the 90s show."

    Kieran smiled, his confusion shifting to amusement. "I see. Then yes, her clothing choices have a very specific aesthetic."

    "That''s great," Jack said with a laugh. "I wish I could get away with wearing the same shit everyday and not come off as weird. I mean, I guess I kinda do, but y''know? Just all the same."

    "If the clothing were tailored, then I doubt anyone would notice. They would be too enraptured with your appearance to notice your wardrobe consists of only three pieces."

    Jack poked at his cheesecake with his fork. He wanted to preen under the compliment, but it only served to remind him of the frayed edges of his shirtsleeves. Why didn''t he grab a different shirt? On the plus side, he remembered to ditch the bandaids.

    He set his fork down and settled on fidgeting with his napkin. "Unfortunately, I can''t sew."

    "I have a tailor."

    Jack frowned at his napkin as he folded it and ran his fingers over the crease. Of course Kieran had a tailor. Why not? "No. Don''t offer that. That costs money."

    "Most things do," Kieran dryly replied.

    Jack ignored him in favor of taking a gulp of his drink. "So is that why you look so hot? Tailored clothes?"

    "I''m sure my genetics enter into it as well. My¡­ cousin had many suitors before she disappointed the family by eloping with the stableboy. But I''m glad you think I''m pleasing to look at. Hopefully, you won''t get bored of the view," Kieran said, his tone growing bitter.

    Jack chewed on his lower lip then reached over the table to pat Kieran''s hand. "No way. You are so pretty. And I could listen to that voice all day," he said, proud of himself for being reassuring.

    "Perhaps I''ll recite you some poetry if you ever get angry with me." Kieran turned his hand and lightly grasped Jack''s fingers.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    "That''d be awesome. Better than that angry sex thing people go on about. Like, why would you fuck someone you''re pissed at? That doesn''t sound healthy."

    "Supposedly, it''s more passionate," Kieran said lowly, running his thumb over Jack''s knuckles.

    Jack snorted and rolled his eyes. "Supposedly, that''s inviting violence into the mix. No, thanks."

    "So you prefer gentle and romantic, I take it? Candles and soft music?" There was a relieved edge to Kieran''s voice, and he lifted Jack''s hand to lips.

    Hyper awareness of his knuckles being lightly kissed kicked Jack in the stomach. He couldn''t remove his hand without being obvious, and he didn''t want to risk escalating their intimacy further than it had already gone. He could see this scenario ending up in someone''s bed, and the thought strangled him. Was gnawing his arm off an option? "Er¡­ Something like that. The, uh, lighter the better?"

    He busied himself with his drink. His buzz was turning to more than a little tipsy. Scratch that. He was half gone, judging by how the room didn''t move the same speed as his head. He should probably stop. One more wouldn''t hurt. He could even use the excuse of being too drunk to do more that night. Besides, how often did he get to indulge in top shelf liquor?

    "I believe I can arrange something light and loving," Kieran said softly. "You would be the center of my world."

    Jack downed the rest of his drink and broke off in a coughing fit. He coughed into his napkin, fighting to keep his coughs shallow and quiet. He got his hand back, but at the cost of his dignity. "Just so''s you know," he wheezed, blinking through tears, "I have a taser."

    "I do hope you don''t introduce it during sex," Kieran said, pushing a glass of water across the table.

    "Never have," Jack replied, amused at his own honesty. "But I have used it as a deterrent. Does that count? Heck, the sound alone is usually enough to make people back off. It''s loud. I dropped it the first couple times I tried it out ''cuz of that."

    "Well, I hope you never have to use it on me."

    "Me, too," Jack said as he leaned his head on his hand. He let his eyes run over Kieran''s shoulders and arms. He had a deep craving for a tight hug. "Don''t wanna be proven right. Wrong. Whatever. Stranger Danger stuff."

    "Stranger Danger?" Kieran repeated, laughing as he shook his head.

    "Forget I said anything. I say things. Stupid things." Jack cleared his throat and sipped his water. "You''re too nice. It''s weird."

    "I think you''re simply unused to patience and attentiveness."

    "I got friends," he said defensively. He leaned back, crossing his arms. "I know people that like me. You''re just weirdly nice. I mean, I like it. Nice, hot boyfriend? What''s not to like? Sorry I look like trash."

    "Even the most atrocious wrapping paper can hide the loveliest of gifts," Kieran said, gesturing to Jack with his wine glass.

    Jack squinted at Kieran''s smile. Something tugged at his memory. "Oh, God. He''s right. You do look at me like catnip!"

    Kieran''s smile turned stiff, and he glanced to the side. He tapped the side of his glass as he returned his gaze to Jack. "Catnip?"

    "I need to stop drinking before I bring up the belly rubs."

    "Well, now I''m only more intrigued," Kieran said as he leaned forward.

    "I''m gonna sober up before I say anything stupider. Like how you''re not getting lucky tonight."

    "You believe boundaries are stupid?"

    "Shutting up," Jack insisted, blushing in drunken embarrassment as he shoved a chunk of cheesecake onto his mouth. He did his best to not be charmed by Kieran''s fond smile.

 Creeper

    "No, no, no. I have to check things first."

    Jack''s fingers wrapped around the doorjamb, and he stuck his head into his apartment. Everything looked fine. He stepped around his CD cases, noting their positions. "Yeah¡­ So far, so good. Okay. Don''t touch things. I''ll know."

    "I was under the impression ovens were a standard fixture in American apartments," Kieran said after a moment.

    Jack''s shoulders slumped as he rolled his eyes. He slowly turned his head to see Kieran giving the empty space in his kitchen a critical stare. "Not this one. At least my bathroom''s got a lock," he spat. Why did everyone fixate on his missing oven? If he wanted to bake, Sam and Candace owned a perfectly good oven and baking sheets.

    "I''ve lived alone for most of my life, so I fail to see the point," Kieran said with an easy shrug.

    "Yeah, makes perving on people easier, I guess." Jack frowned at his line of wine bottles. Each was in its designated spot. He looked over and barely caught the calculating stare Kieran sent his way. He was being judged for something, he was sure of it. They were talking about locks. "Yeah¡­ Locks aren''t reliable. I have a chair for my door."

    Kieran gestured to one of the windows. "And sticks for the windows. Clever."

    "They work," Jack bit out defensively. Too defensive. He needed to keep his mouth shut. He should have just kissed Kieran goodnight at the door and left it at that.

    "Would you be opposed to me buying you a bedframe?" Kieran asked, his judging gaze falling upon the mattress in the corner.

    "Don''t you dare. Don''t you fucking dare buy me anything that costs money." It was bad enough that Jack was being treated to lunch and dinner. He didn''t need furniture being added to the mix. Furniture had commitment written all over it.

    Kieran raised a brow and crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall. "I see. Do you accept donations?"

    "Sam ain''t allowed to buy me shit, so you ain''t allowed to buy me shit." Jack didn''t mention how Sam would sometimes pay his rent without saying anything. Which would have been nice to know when he thought he''d been behind on his rent and was forced to shack up with Kieran. Even though the outcome had been a positive experience.

    Sometimes, there were gift cards waiting for him at the local grocery. He paid everything back when he remembered. He wasn''t destitute. He just forgot to do things. There was a reason he had a note glued to his debit card reminding him to transfer funds.

    "Very well. Might I offer my bed as an alternative?" Kieran asked, pushing off the wall.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Jack shook his head and looked away. It was the perfect opening. Too bad he didn''t want to ruin his night with a breakup. He needed an excuse and quick. Something vague and believable. He may as well go with vague honesty.

    "We''re too fresh, and you''re too creepy for that question," he said, continuing his theme for the night of putting his foot in his mouth.

    "Creepy."

    "I didn''t mean that like it sounded. You have a vibe." Jack ran his hands over his hair and clutched the back of his neck. He meant to stick with vague and kind of honest, not blunt. He stared at a tuft of hair that curled against Kieran''s left temple. "I''m sorry. I''m an asshole."

    "You''re not an asshole, my sweet. You''re merely sensitive to the world around you," Kieran replied as he drew closer.

    "I''m sensitive to the fact that you hate my apartment," Jack said. He had plenty of issues with his apartment, too, but it was his apartment.

    Kieran shrugged. "It''s not what I''ve grown used to, but I have been in a low enough point in life to have experienced worse."

    "Yeah, right. I looked you up. You''ve had a decent life from what I could find." The moment the words left his mouth, Jack regretted them. Who was acting like the creepy stalker?

    "Oh? And what did you find?"

    Jack avoided Kieran''s eyes in favor of his shoes. Kieran didn''t sound offended. If anything, he sounded curious. Did normal people do background checks on potential dates? Tara talked about wanting to do it, but had yet to ask him to look into anyone. "Uh¡­ Not much. Just a kinda standard background check. I''m a little on the paranoid side, in case you didn''t notice."

    "I had noticed that, yes. Do you want me to stay the night? Would that help you relax or make it worse?"

    "You don''t have to. I don''t wanna subject you to," Jack waved his hand at his floor, "this any longer than absolutely necessary."

    "It''s no bother, my sweet."

    Jack glanced at his mattress and the sheets piled on top. He was torn between wanting company and wanting to be left alone. But having company stay the night would require fresher sheets. "I should probably do laundry first."

    Kieran smiled and shook his head. "I wouldn''t have you worry about that. I''ll head home."

    "I''m not kicking you out, exactly. I¡­" Jack sighed. "I do like you."

    "I like you, too," Kieran said, cupping Jack''s cheek. "Very much." He leaned down and kissed Jack.

    Jack stiffened for a brief moment then relaxed. He could do this. Kissing was fine. Kissing was great. He blinked in confusion as Kieran pulled away.

    "You''ll let me know when you''re ready for more." Kieran ran his thumb across Jack''s lower lip. "Sleep well, my sweet siren."

    Jack''s heart skipped a beat. Whether it was from elation or trepidation, he couldn''t be sure. Not trusting his voice, he nodded.

    He locked up once Kieran was out the door, and he retreated to his crummy mattress. Was Kieran slumming it? Seeking out a cheap thrill with what appeared to be a desperate loser? Lure him in with fancy food, then collect on what was supposedly owed? Too bad Jack had no intention of putting out.

    He spent the rest of the night rehearsing his coming out speech in his head. None of the potential outcomes were in his favor. Tomorrow, there would be a pretty good chance he''d be single again.

 Ransom Wear

    The soft chime of a bell followed by silence greeted Jack when he entered the antique shop. He hugged his excuse for being there to his chest. He would return the coat, get his hoodie back, confess to leading Kieran on, and get dumped. Quick and easy. Hell, he''d even have time to grab a bite before hiding away in the library stacks and putting the finishing touches on the bakery website.

    "Welco¡ª Jack!" Kieran smiled as he approached, setting a small stack of books next to register.

    Jack raised the coat. "I''m here to pay the ransom on my hoodie."

    "You can keep it, if you''d like," said Kieran. "It looks good on you."

    "I looked up the brand, so that''s a hard no," Jack said, shaking his head and holding the coat further away.

    "Very well." Kieran took it and kissed Jack''s cheek. "I''ll be right back."

    Jack winced as Kieran turned and moved to the back of the store. He was failing at giving his confession. What was worse, he only had his bag''s strap to fidget with as he waited for Kieran to return.

    He tugged his left sleeve back and ran a finger over the scar circling his wrist. He should mention his scars, too. If they were still together by summer, then there would be questions. And he could only make so many excuses for avoiding short sleeves.

    Too bad he didn''t have the standard parallel lines of most cutters. Then he could just say he was in recovery. He frowned at his wrist. He never thought of himself as the type to slice up his own skin. He couldn''t recall ever having the urge. He didn''t even understand the thought process behind it. He didn''t like pain. He didn''t need proof that he was alive. He certainly didn''t want the attention.

    His breaths became shaky as his heart beat faster. Something wasn''t right. He remembered cutting into himself, but his memory flickered between a switchblade and a box cutter on a scar going across his forearm.

    Footsteps echoed from the back of the store, and Jack quickly pulled his sleeve back over his wrist. He hugged himself then dropped his arms just as Kieran rounded the corner.

    "And now your street urchin look is complete," Kieran said teasingly, handing over the hoodie.

    Jack clutched it and caught its lack of scent. Of course Kieran washed it. Thoughtful bastard. "Oh, uh¡­ Something else, too. Can we talk?"

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    "Isn''t that what we''re doing?"

    Jack''s shoulders hunched under Kieran''s amusement. "In private?"

    Kieran''s eyes roamed over the store then settled back on Jack with a raised brow.

    "I mean, what if someone comes in?" Belatedly, Jack realized how paranoid he sounded. He shook his head and scratched at his thigh. "Sorry. I''ll come back later. I didn''t really think this through."

    "I can watch the store!" Lindsey said excitedly from beside Jack.

    Jack stepped away, tripping over his own feet in an effort to escape. He stumbled into Kieran and cringed into himself. "Fuck! Where do you hide?!"

    Lindsey slowly waved a hand in front of herself, her eyes unfocused. "Beyond the veil, and behind the curtain."

    Kieran squeezed Jack''s shoulder before letting go and glaring down at Lindsey. "The answer is still no."

    "You really think anyone''s gonna come in for the ten minutes it takes to have a private conversation with your boyfriend?" Lindsey said in an indignant huff. "I can handle it!"

    "It''s gonna be pretty quick," Jack admitted uncomfortably. "Maybe quicker, depending on reaction."

    Kieran looked between Jack and Lindsey then to the storefront window and the empty street outside. He sighed and shook his head in resignation. "Very well. Knock if it''s more than you can handle."

    "You got it, boss!" Lindsey saluted and purposefully strode to stand behind the register. She was the very picture of happiness, crowned with a flower-pinned hat.

    Jack wished he had her smooth and adaptable attitude. Quelling the dread creeping over his spine, he followed Kieran to the back of the store. The trek up the murder stairs seemed to take forever, and Jack''s confidence degraded with each step.

    The moment Jack crossed the threshold into the apartment, the building wave of nausea crashed over him. He dropped his bag on the floor and hurried to the side hall, hugging his hoodie tightly against his stomach. "I¡­ I''m gonna use your bathroom first. Bye."

    Jack closed the bathroom door behind himself and frowned at the lack of a lock. At least there was a door. He was hidden and able to collect himself. He sighed and faced the toilet, only to get a flash of borrowed pajamas sitting atop the seat. That''s not where he left them when he''d spent the night, and Kieran had originally left them in the hall for him. Right?

    He swallowed back his insistent nausea at the conflicting memories. He had a good thing going. As much as he was all for letting it be ruined, he didn''t want it ruined by letting on that he might be crazy.

    Maybe he had just grabbed the clothing and set it on the toilet seat before getting into them. That would make sense. He breathed easier as his stomach settled.

    At the sink, he splashed cold water on his face in a futile attempt to refresh his confidence. Why was he worrying over ruining a relationship with his craziness when he was about to run it with his non-existent libido? He pushed off the sink and dried off his face, not feeling any better.

    "You can do this," he told his reflection as he pulled on his hoodie and tugged the sleeves over his hands. His reflection stared back with insecure doubt. With a miserable sigh, he faced the door and his inevitable breakup.

 Confessions

    Jack found Kieran waiting patiently on the couch. He sat down on the opposite end and wrung his sleeves together. He only had to open his mouth, say he was asexual, and get dumped. His scars would never get the chance to be an issue. Easy enough. "So, I uh¡­"

    He stared at his lap as his mouth went dry, wishing Kieran would fill the silence. After a few false starts, he stood up and began pacing. "I¡­ I thought this was gonna be easy, sorry," he said quietly as he settled against the wall. He glanced up and away when he heard Kieran stand and move closer. "I''m¡­ Look. I like you. A lot. Really a lot. You''re great. And I''m fucked up in a lot of ways."

    "Take a deep breath, sweet thing," Kieran said as he came to stand in front of Jack. He brushed aside some of the hair covering Jack''s face. "You''re doing well. Whatever it is, I won''t judge you."

    Jack choked out a small and bitter laugh. "You say that now, but¡­ No, this is¡­ I guess not big-big, but for some people it''s a pretty big deal breaker. Most people, actually. I-I¡­ I don''t wanna lose this," he said, gesturing between them.

    "Here." Kieran gently kissed Jack''s forehead. "It''ll be alright. It can wait."

    "Yeah, but it shouldn''t."

    Kieran pressed his forehead to Jack''s and smiled. "You''re under no obligation. Whatever it is, it can wait until you''re comfortable."

    Jack swallowed and nodded. "Maybe next time," he said quietly. He sighed, and a small piece of him unwound as Kieran placed another kiss on his forehead and stroked his hair. He really didn''t wanna lose this.

    "I would love to have a small taste of you, my sweet siren," Kieran whispered into Jack''s hair.

    "Uh¡­"

    Kieran lightly pecked Jack''s lips. "Nothing more, I promise," he said, his lips brushing against Jack''s.

    Jack''s heart raced. Was Kieran only after a deeper kiss? He could do that. Anything else, and he could easily lift his knee and hope for the best.

    "Sure?" he whispered.

    He met Kieran''s eyes, and a wave of relaxation swept over him before he was kissed. It was more than he was expecting.

    Deep. Thorough. Hungry.

    His head was gently tilted as Kieran''s tongue ran against his own, and it wasn''t awful. It wasn''t too wet, and Kieran''s hands didn''t wander. If this was as far as things went, then everything might actually work out.

    He was allowed to be delusional for five minutes. He earned it.

    The kiss turned lighter, and Kieran nipped his way along Jack''s jaw. Sweet promises of being pampered whispered through the air, soothing Jack''s constant worries.

    Jack tensed as Kieran''s attention settled on his neck. Everything was still fine. He was okay. Nothing heavy. Nothing he wasn''t ready for. Just a small taste.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    He was unable to tell where the softly reassuring whispers were coming from. They sounded like Kieran, but were felt more than heard. A relaxing murmur sifting through the cotton clouds filling his thoughts.

    Just as he began to relax again, a tongue ran along the length of his neck. There was a half-felt kiss pressed beside the quickly numbing area. Numbness was never good. Not when he hadn''t earned it.

    With a swift drop in his stomach, he could no longer feel Kieran''s lips on his neck. Too little. Too much. Not right. Not again. Not¡ª

    Jack pushed Kieran away with everything he had. He gasped as the room sharpened, and he focused on Kieran''s shocked stare.

    "I-I¡­ I''m¡­ No. Y''know what? I''m ace. There. I said it. You can leave now. Or I can leave. I mean, I''m gonna go." He clutched his sleeves as he kept an eye on Kieran. His taser and pepper spray were on the other side of the room in his bag, and he had no hope of getting to them in time.

    Kieran''s eyes darted back and forth minutely, his frown deepening. "I''m afraid you''ve lost me, or I misheard," he said slowly.

    "Ace. Asexual. Not interested in fucking you. It''s not you, it''s definitely me. Okay?" Jack said desperately, shrinking further against the wall and gripping his arms as tight as he could.

    "I see. I must admit, this is not what I was expecting." Kieran''s confusion became more apparent as he looked away, biting his lip.

    "Look, I''m not gonna let you fuck me. Ever," Jack said. He hated having to spell it out for someone, and Kieran''s reaction was only making his embarrassment worse. "This has been fun, but we''re not gonna work out in the long run."

    Kieran eyed Jack and eventually gave him a small smile. "Then it''s a good thing I''m not looking for a sexual partner."

    "You''re not," Jack said, letting every bit of his doubt show. "Judging by the way you were going at my neck, I''m having a hard time believing you."

    "That is¡­ I''m not opposed to a higher level of intimacy, so if you ever change your mind, I''d be willing," Kieran said as he shifted uncomfortably.

    "Yeah, right," Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "People say that at first, then they realize I literally will not put out."

    Kieran sighed and looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I have far more experience bottoming, as it were."

    "That''s not really¡ª"

    "I have a blood flow issue," he quickly added.

    Jack dropped his arms and stared at Kieran as he lost his conversational footing. That was right up there with his own confession. He would have taken the chance to mention his scars if it wouldn''t come off as trying to one up Kieran. "Oh. Er. Now I feel like an asshole."

    "Don''t. This is one of the easier conversations I''ve had about it," Kieran said, his smile returning.

    Jack scratched at his neck and paused at the numbness. It was just the shock of having someone lick at his neck like a dog and finding out Kieran apparently couldn''t get it up. And feeling like shit that he saw it as a good thing. He was a shallow asshole being presented with his idea of the perfect boyfriend on a silver platter.

    "Would you like me to take you home?" Kieran asked, disrupting Jack''s thoughts.

    "I don''t know," Jack quietly admitted as he rubbed at his arm. "I wanna go. I wanna stay. I just¡­ I dunno."

    "Do you want to be alone?"

    Jack nodded and stared at the floor. He''d survived what was usually a deal breaker argument. He didn''t know what to do with himself, but having a witness around while he figured himself out wasn''t high on his list.

    "You can stay up here for as long as you need," Kieran said. He slowly approached Jack. Cautiously, he lightly stroked Jack''s hair. "If you change your mind, I''ll take you home."

    Jack nodded. "Yeah. That works. Thanks."

    "Of course, my sweet."

 Eavesdropper

    Jack sat in the middle of Kieran''s couch, lost in thought with his head in his hands. On the plus side, he was out, and Kieran was still interested in dating him. On the not-so plus side, Jack still didn''t know what Kieran was after. He refused to believe that Kieran was into him for his screwy personality. Why date someone who''s anxiety and paranoia was a detriment to themselves? It didn''t make sense.

    He pulled out his phone and frowned at the time. It was just after seven. Kieran should have closed up shop an hour ago. He was grateful for the time and space, but his stomach squirmed at the thought that he was inconveniencing Kieran even more.

    Jack hugged himself as he unsteadily got off the couch and headed to the door. He looped his bag over his head and took a deep breath before pulling the door open. Silently, he made his way down the stairs and paused in the storage room at the sound of irritated voices.

    "¡ªanother broken heart in your wake," said a woman.

    Jack edged toward the open doorway as he tried to place the familiar voice and accent.

    "I believe you have me confused with Lorenzo," Kieran cooly replied.

    "Well, you certainly learned it somewhere."

    "And you''re the best of us all. Of course," Kieran said, his voice laced with sarcasm and false cheer. "How lovely it must be for you to have come out unscathed."

    "Being proactive and honest has its merits."

    Jack nibbled at his cuticles as he recognized the woman''s voice as Colette Benoit. He settled against the doorjamb, checking that neither himself nor his shadow were visible.

    Eavesdropping was a bad habit, but when he knew so little about his creepy boyfriend, he''d take any information he could get. Especially if that information came from someone who wasn''t a fan of Kieran.

    "Might I ask how Harold reacted to your honesty?"

    Benoit''s surprised laugh echoed through the store. "You can''t honestly expect me to believe you''re serious."

    Jack held his breath as he waited for Kieran''s answer. His chest tightened at the prolonged silence. Of course there was something else Kieran wasn''t telling him. He hoped it was something small. Maybe Kieran and Benoit used to do porn together. Something embarrassing but meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

    Benoit''s laugh turned menacing. "Oh, that is rich! Poor little moth. I hope you burn," she said lowly.

    "You''re free to leave."

    "And ignore your presence? Unlikely. But to answer your question, Harold was a poet, undamaged by the wraiths in the night," she said in a light and airy tone. "He truly loved me. So entirely different situations, and I''m disinclined to give you advice."

    Jack strained to hear Kieran''s response. He leaned further into the doorway and shivered as a soft breeze brushed against his ear.

    "Feeling better?" Lindsey whispered from beside him.

    "God, fucking fuck! Fuck!" Jack lost his balance and barely caught himself on the doorjamb, narrowly avoiding colliding with a display case. He glared up at Lindsey. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed.

    "Sorry." Lindsey''s grin did nothing to make her look the least bit sorry.

    "Jack?"

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Jack winced and slowly left the safety of the doorway. "Yeah¡­ Hi," he said, lifting and dropping an arm. "I''m doing better, I guess."

    Kieran looked between Jack and Benoit. He sighed and made his way to Jack. "Here, I''ll take you home."

    Jack nodded as Kieran touched his shoulder. "Sure." He let Kieran guide him to the store''s alley entrance and glanced at Benoit as they passed. Her attentive glare was focused on Kieran.

    "I trust you can show yourself out?" asked Kieran, not bothering to meet her gaze.

    "More successfully than you," Benoit replied with a sniff. "Keep your head down, or it will roll. I will make an example of you."

    Kieran''s hold on Jack''s shoulder tightened. "Noted."

    Once in the alley, Jack reached up and touched the hand on his shoulder. "So¡­that''s some rivalry?" he asked.

    Kieran looked at Jack with a confused frown before smiling. "Ah. Yes. I suppose."

    Dread pooled in the pit of Jack''s stomach. Sam was wrong. There was no threat of competition between two business owners. There was no rivalry. Something else was going on, and he¡­ Did he really want to look into it? Did he want to get involved?

    When he realized he was being led to a shiny black Mustang and not just being escorted home, temptation for being treated to the finer things in life loomed over him and settled firmly on his shoulders.

    The act of being treated usually left him confused and uncomfortable, but he still craved it. And Kieran was more than willing to deliver. Everything was too perfect.

    He needed to make a decision. An informed decision.

    ---

    Jack waited a few minutes in his apartment after Kieran''s car had turned the corner before heading out, only feeling a small amount of guilt over it. He told himself he wasn''t being nosy; he was being vigilant. He had his own safety and well-being to look out for. It wasn''t stalker behavior. He was taking preventative measures.

    He adjusted the angle of his laptop as a noisy pair of teens passed his small table in the corner of the internet caf¨¦. He''d already gotten enough side-eying from Missy for the short time he''d been there. He wasn''t doing anything particularly illegal. Looking people up wasn''t illegal or weird. But the legal routes were proving frustrating.

    He tapped his fingers on the table as he stared at his search results. Benoit had been born and raised in a small town in northern Montana, which made no sense for her light European accent that Jack couldn''t quite place. Unless she was faking it to come off as more sophisticated.

    But there were other things. A family business. Dead parents. No other relations. The only decent paper trail he found was Benoit''s degrees and certificates. She''d attended colleges and universities all over the world, majoring in history and literature.

    It was too convenient. Too similar to Kieran''s past. Something had to be going on. Especially since there was no record of a marriage certificate, and no sign of Benoit''s late husband, Harold. For the first time in years, he was tempted to tap into his old contacts and see if anyone could hook him up with more information. Maybe see if someone remembered a couple weirdo Europeans wiping out their past and starting fresh.

    But why would they need a fresh start? What was Jack getting himself into? And was it really bad enough to justify digging further? To dredge up those old contacts that could potentially tattle on him?

    He froze at the sound of a sharp laugh and blinked at his search results. The weirdness of it all could always be something like witness protection, which could potentially paint an even bigger target in his own back.

    He sighed heavily and picked up his drink. He blinked in surprise when he found his mug empty. That was his sign to call it quits for the night. Or, at least, quits as far as cyber stalking went. It was just after ten, and there was more than enough time for him to drop his laptop off at his apartment and head to the bar for a couple drinks. He had some extra cash, and he deserved a relaxing treat.

    As he closed his laptop, he remembered that his go-to bar had been shut down. No more Charred Flamingo for him. No more Roger watering his drinks down after being there for two hours. No more trading that week''s speed traps for mostly empty bottles of booze.

    He almost reopened his laptop to see if he could track down Roger. He didn''t want to have to go through the trouble of finding a bar with a good layout and regulars who kept to themselves. It had taken him seven months to get comfortable enough to get more than lightly buzzed. He had his own chair.

    Bitterness overtook him as he shoved his laptop into his bag. He breathed shakily and blinked away the gathering tears. A normal person would move on and find a new bar to frequent. A normal person would not be a regular with their own chair and getting free booze from the bartender.

    Maybe the liquor store would have a good special going on.

 The Aftermath of Texting

    Painful sunshine forced its way through the blinds, and the scent of a stale pillowcase was becoming too much to bear. Jack pushed himself up, wincing at the pounding headache that only got worse with the movement. One drink to unwind turned into three, which turned into the whole bottle to just not care.

    He pulled out his phone and frowned at the conversation sitting open. Ice filled his veins as he recalled texting Kieran in his drunken stupor. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Kieran had the patience of a saint, and it only served to make Jack more suspicious.

    heeey kiki

    kikikikiki

    Kiki? Either you''re feeling better or you''ve messaged me by mistake.

    even better

    vodka was cheepcheep

    wuts that nose mask thing?

    Could you be more specific?

    $$$ big wood?

    its got a long nose

    real $$$$$

    Possibly an African tribal mask of some sort. I''m not able to send pictures at the moment, but I may be able to narrow it down if you remember where you saw it. Do you recall if it had any other materials besides wood? Perhaps some other defining features?

    u rite lots

    brwn behind reg

    wants 2 eat my soul has teeth?

    Real or false teeth?

    they look real

    mask w dentures lol

    A Ziba mask. I believe it was carved in the late nineteenth century.

    dosnt look 80 r 90s 2me

    Late 1800s, my sweet.

    ya u gotta subtract! i kne that

    Might I ask what brought on this sudden interest?

    its cool i liek it u got cool stuf

    Jack would have felt relieved that his drunk texting was just him obsessing over the weird mask, but then insecure and drunken him had to go and obsess over his coming out. Next time, he was going to be locking up his phone. This was embarrassing.

    sry i dnt wanna sleep w u

    ur hot, its me, not u

    Yes, I came to that conclusion when you told me.

    wut u want from me?

    not sex, so wut?

    i can make u website

    look nicr n wut u got it sux

    unlike me lol

    thats mean sry

    I''m finding companionship to be a desirable thing at this point in my life.

    Jack frowned at the timestamp. Kieran had taken longer to reply than what his relatively short answer should have called for. And considering how quickly Kieran responded with his longer texts, the five minutes between Jack''s last message and Kieran''s eventual answer had him wondering what the truth might be.

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    wutev sap i sleep

    Sleep well, my sweet siren. ??

    Part of him wanted to apologize. The other part wanted to ignore everything and pretend it never happened. He thought for a moment before tapping out a quick apology.

    sry 4 drunk texting

    ur not a sap ur nice

    That should do. Nice, simple, and ignoring everything else. He growled in annoyance when his phone pinged with a reply. Kieran was wonderfully, horribly, attentive.

    Think nothing of it, my sweet. You had a trying day and needed to relax.

    Is this the mask you were enquiring about?

    Jack saved the image and sent it on to Sam with a request for a printout. If he couldn''t have the actual mask, then at least he''d have something to put on his wall or fridge.

    thx hungover 2day n hangn w candy 2mrw

    mayb cu fri?

    I would love to get together on Friday. I''ll pick you up at 7:00.

    Now that he was somewhat committed to their date, he wanted to bail. He deleted the conversation and glared at the empty screen. His phone rang and displayed the image of a pig.

    "Elster," he greeted, forcing a bit of gruffness into his voice.

    "What the hell did you just send me?" Sam demanded over the wind in the background.

    "A picture of a mask. Cool, huh?"

    "This thing might actually give me nightmares. It looks like¡­" Sam''s voice trailed off as the wind picked up.

    "Like?" Jack prompted. Apprehension gripped his lungs, and his breaths became short and shallow.

    "A case," Sam replied in resignation. "Please don''t look into it. It''s gruesome."

    "Right¡­" Jack swallowed and forced a deep breath. People died, and corpses decayed. Most likely, it was just some transient who got stuck out in the elements.

    "Hey. Where''s a good bar? Since some asshole decided shutting down my go-to bar was a good idea," he said pointedly. He didn''t blame Sam. Not exactly.

    "I didn''t shut down your bar," Sam said, his voice raised against the wind in the background.

    "I walked by it the other day. That police tape sure looks like you guys did it."

    "You actually want to go back there?"

    "I mean¡­" Jack sighed as he slowly moved to lay his head at the foot of his bed, away from the stale pillowcase. Did he want to go to a bar where the owner had been brutally murdered? If he avoided every single place where someone died, he''d have nowhere to go.

    "I dunno," he said. He closed his eyes and listened to the muffled voices on Sam''s end that drifted in and out with the wind. "I was used to it. I knew the regulars."

    "I''m thinking you should avoid going out for a while," Sam said in a slow and careful tone.

    "Why? What happened? Why am I banned from bars?" Jack asked. He braced himself to hear about barflies being hunted down. He''d feel a lot better about being forced away if Sam was hanging out at a crime scene involving another bar.

    "Aside from picking up a couple blackout drunks with no alcohol or drugs in their system? Nothing with bars."

    "Weird. New drug just dropped?" It sounded like something that would be right up Jack''s alley. Maybe he could get in on it while it was cheap.

    "I hope not. But if it is something new, it seems fairly harmless. People were right as rain a couple hours after being picked up."

    "If it''s the same effects as drinking without the hangover, I would not mind being hooked up," Jack said, pouring in every bit of hopeful hinting he could.

    "Yeah, right," Sam replied with a laughing huff. "Either way, I want you off the streets at night. If you forget and get stuck at the library or something, then call me. I''ll get you home."

    Jack rolled onto his back and glared at the ceiling. "All because of some new drug? I don''t need a babysitter."

    "This isn''t about the drunks," Sam said in a tired tone.

    "Then why can''t I go out? Things stay open past sundown. I can''t change my life because you¡ª"

    "Jack. It looks like Farragut is pulling strings to implicate another man and guarantee his parole," Sam said, his voice harsh and clipped. "Your testimony was so full of holes and contradictions, we''re lucky everything you said wasn''t thrown out."

    Jack turned onto his side and curled up. "I wasn''t that bad."

    "Remind me how long you spent at Hillsbrook."

    "Eight months," he quietly replied.

    "Stay off the streets."

    "Okay. What if I''m with Tara? Or, uh, Kieran?"

    "Don''t push it, Jack."

    "Instead of me sabotaging date night, it''s you. That''s new," Jack said, hoping to change the subject and forget the reminder of being institutionalized.

    "I take it that means things are going good with the boyfriend?"

    "I guess? We had an interesting conversation, and things are working in my favor. I''m still waiting for the other shoe to drop." Waiting or hoping, he wasn''t sure. But the sooner it happened, the sooner Jack could relax to some degree and fret about something else.

    "I know it''s a strange concept, but good things do happen," Sam said kindly. The wind rose along with shouts requesting a tarp.

    "Fine. Hey, where are you?"

    "The beach."

    "Real beach or tide pool beach?"

    "Morris Bay. Couple news crews are here, so I''m sure you''ll hear all about it tonight," Sam said bitterly.

    "Who''s got the better view? Wix or Wax?" Jack hoped it was WAHX. His antenna caught the signal better.

    "If Joe did his job right, neither. Gruesome, Jack. Don''t spy."

    "But if it''s¡ª"

    "Rent for the guest room is the litter box. All three."

 Coin Collecting

    Jack followed Candace through the makeshift aisles of the large auction house. There was everything from elegant furniture to goofy taxidermy. He hadn''t been expecting to see any price tags, but the section Candace currently guided him through was lowered with them. Whenever he picked something up and set it back down, she insisted the prices were up for debate and he should just ignore them.

    It was after Candace caught sight of an overfilled bookshelf, he was able to break away and poke around on his own. He browsed along a wall that served the purpose of a  makeshift art gallery.

    He wondered if any of it would interest Kieran as he skimmed over paintings of horses before coming across a collection of old maps. He took a picture of one set in a gilded frame and sent it to Kieran.

    $20 worth anything?

    Dependent on a variety of factors that I cannot confirm via this picture, it''s worth anywhere from kindling to $300.

    Jack moved to the next one and did the same.

    this 1? $50 it got monsters

    monsters cost extra lol

    It''s potentially worth more. Where are you?

    bradlye state sale thing

    candy drag me here

    u coming?

    Ms. Benoit is running that particular venue, so I''m afraid I''m not invited.

    i got cc can get u stuff

    pay back b4 bill tho if u get lots

    It''s kind of you to offer, but I must decline.

    She''ll know.

    Jack rolled his eyes as he slowly made his way to the next aisle. He offered, so that had to count for something. It gave him at least one little tick in the thoughtful column. He resigned himself to not sending more pictures to Kieran. If he was banned from coming, then Jack didn''t want to rub salt in that particular wound.

    He looked over to where Candace still stood and sighed at the growing stacks of books beside her. She appeared to be sorting out her rejects and maybes. The feeling of being a human shopping cart was beginning to manifest. Why else would she bring him?

    He pulled his eyes away as the intrusive thought burrowed its way deeper. She was just bringing him in for round one to get him out of his apartment, and she had said as much. His job was to keep her under budget until Sam was able to take over. Did that count as being used?

    Even if it did, Candace was his friend, and she always did her best to return favors. Although, much to Jack''s dismay, it sometimes came in the form of a free reading. A small smile formed, and the thoughts of being useless by his friends vanished with a disorienting clarity.

    Confusion swept over Jack as his eyes focused on a table full of trinkets and jewelry. He quickly glanced around. The aisle was empty, so it didn''t look like his little zone out session had bothered anyone else. He let out a relieved sigh, uncertain of what he''d been thinking.

    Candace had given him a $50 budget as a thank you for keeping her company, so finding something small and way cheaper would have to satisfy her. He looked over the collection rings and coins, hoping for something easy. In a little plastic box by a booklet of old pennies was a brass coin bearing the image of a shamrock.

    It wouldn''t be considered spying on Kieran''s behalf if it was a gift. Something small and a bit of a playful jab at Kieran''s heritage that he wouldn''t have to keep at his apartment. It was perfect. He was about to pick it up for a closer look when someone spoke up from beside him.

    "It''s a worthless reproduction. The real thing can go for thousands."

    Jack snatched his hand back and pressed his nails into his palm as he breathed in slowly. He looked over and was grateful that Benoit''s eyes were on the coin.

    "Uh¡­ I''m here with my friend. She brought me along," he said, motioning to the table Candace had taken over with her stacks of books. The one in her hand hovered between two piles. Unlike him, she looked like she belonged. He hoped Benoit wouldn''t get angry at him or suspect him of snooping on Kieran''s behalf - even though he''d just offered.

    Benoit pulled her eyes away from the coin to look at Candace with a scrutinizing stare. "Yes. A frequent patron and a good choice for a friend."

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    "Thanks? I guess."

    "She has a talent for fortune telling. Tell me, Mr. Elster, has she performed a reading for you?"

    "Y-wait. How do you know my name?" He hoped Candace had mentioned him in passing. It would be easier to deal with. But why would Candace bring up his surname?

    "I read the local paper, and I''m particularly good with faces." She ran her eyes over him then looked away as he breathed in deeply. "Had I known, I would have reached out the moment the trials were over."

    Jack looked away and rubbed his wrist, frowning. Known what? That he was still in town? That he felt like he couldn''t leave and had panic attacks if the subject of visiting even the next town over came up? What did she know?

    There was something there. Something he didn''t want anyone finding out ever again. Something he found out by accident, and¡ª

    "A gunmoney crown, featuring a likeness of James II," Benoit said, regaining Jack''s attention. She picked up the box holding the coin and turned it in her hand. "1690. It''s Irish. Or, at least, the one it''s based on is."

    They were talking about a coin. The stupid little shamrock coin. She had mentioned knowing something. Jack licked his lips, leaping to education as the goal for their conversation. "That''s good to know?"

    "What does your friend think of your other friend?" she asked, distaste coloring her tone.

    "I''m sorry, what?" He hoped she wasn''t about to drag him into whatever feud she and Kieran had going on.

    "What is Ms. Fairchild''s opinion of Mr. O''Byrne?"

    "Better than yours," Jack said with an uncomfortable laugh.

    "If she''s given you a reading that has not denounced that bog-jumper as untrustworthy filth who will cut your heart from your chest and toss it to the sea, then¡ª"

    A sharp laugh escaped, and Jack covered his mouth. "Bog-jumper?"

    Benoit''s expression soured, and she glared at the coin she held. "Forgive me. I shouldn''t use such terminology. I believe ''jerk'' should still get my point across without insulting his upbringing and countrymen."

    "Asshole''s a good one."

    "He is, isn''t he?" she said with a small grin.

    Jack shrugged and rubbed at his shoulder. "Not that I''ve noticed. That''s been me, mostly."

    "You''re protecting yourself with what assets you have at your disposal."

    "I think a taser would be more effective," he said with a half-smile. Benoit wasn''t so bad when she wasn''t looming over him in drunken righteousness. She had a peculiar vibe to her, similar to Kieran''s. It had to be the antiques.

    "One would hope," she murmured in agreement. "Although, I do believe something vanilla or citrus based would be fairly effective."

    Jack glanced up at her face and the contemplative look she wore before letting his eyes fall back to the coin. "Uh¡­ Lysol?" he offered. He had to be missing something. Were they talking about the same thing? He wasn''t even sure what he thought they were talking about.

    Benoit covered her mouth as she laughed. "Oh, yes. Spray it up his nose."

    "Colette!" Candace joined the pair, carrying a small stack of books. "You look amazing."

    "Thank you, Candace. Your spirit shines like a beacon of hope for these weathered sails." Benoit smiled serenely at Candace.

    "Oh, you." Candace waved her hand dismissively before gesturing to Jack. "I see you''ve met Jack. Jack, Colette is the one who found my current tarot deck."

    "Oh, boy." Jack did his best to look happy for Candace. The roll of her eyes told him he failed. He refused to believe her new deck had anything to do with her newfound accuracy. It gave her the confidence to go with her gut reaction, not actual insight.

    "They found you on their own. I was merely a vessel for their transport," said Benoit.

    Glancing between the two women, Jack felt another tiny bit of his scepticism chip away. He quickly patched it back together with the firm reminder that anyone could be a New Age weirdo. Benoit, as put together and sophisticated as she appeared, was apparently no exception.

    Candace juggled her books and held one out to Benoit. "What do you think I can get away with?"

    Benoit gingerly took the book and leafed through its pages. "Offer twenty and settle for forty," she said, handing it back to Candace.

    "Thank you! Jack, I''m heading to look at the taxidermy next. You want any of those cute mice in hats?" Candace asked as she rearranged her books. "Doesn''t go against your budget."

    Jack forced a smile and shook his head. "Only if one''s dressed up like the devil."

    "I''ll keep my eye open! It was good seeing you, Colette."

    "And you," Benoit replied. "I may be tempted to schedule a reading in the near future."

    Candace''s smile faltered. "Okay. After last time? Are you sure?"

    "Your insight was much needed and is proving useful. Even if I''m not fond of it."

    Candace shifted her weight and nodded uneasily. "If you say so. Okay. I''ll do my best," she promised.

    Benoit watched in amusement as Candace left. "Here," she said, handing the coin to Jack.

    Jack looked from the coin to Benoit in confusion. He reluctantly held out his hand and accepted the coin, not wanting to appear impolite. "No, thanks. I''m good. I don''t think I can afford it, anyway."

    "It''s taken care of." She made a decisive wave with her hand.

    "What? No!"

    "I will admit that if you give this to O''Byrne, then it may turn him maudlin for a while," she said as her smile turned malicious.

    "Right. Then I really shouldn''t take it." He made an attempt to hand the coin back to her, but she held out a business card.

    "My card. Send pictures of his morose pout. I''ll find you something special if he manages to summon a soul and actually cry. Though I doubt he''s capable."

    Jack gave in and took the card. He could always put the coin back where he''d found it. On the back of the business card, a small note had been written.

    Lot 275-B sold to Jack Elster, paid in full - CB

    His shoulders slumped as he realized he''d been tricked. "Thanks. I guess."

    "And if you ever need help or have any questions, do not hesitate to call."

 Liking People

    Early Friday evening saw Jack entering the antique store thirty minutes before closing. He slunk up to the counter, wilting as Kieran looked up from the book he was reading and gave him an amused smile. He should have known Sam''s suggested curfew would be more trouble than it was worth.

    Kieran set his book down and stood as Jack approached. "Couldn''t wait?"

    "I''m not eager. I''m antsy and anxious," Jack replied, rolling his eyes. He swallowed when he noticed an older man and woman looking through a case full of rings. He leaned over the counter and whispered, "Sam''s made me promise to stay off the streets at night."

    "I do believe we had arranged for me to pick you up," Kieran whispered back, teasing mirth shining in his eyes.

    Jack shrugged and stared at the book sitting in front of Kieran. "Couldn''t stay at home. I''m feeling¡­ I dunno. More paranoid than usual. Sam''s got me on edge. There''s weird stuff popping up, I guess," he said, not mentioning the part where he did himself no favors by going through Sam''s current case files.

    "Nothing too horrid, I hope. No unsightly murders? Unexplained break-ins?" asked Kieran. "I do hope there''s not an arsonist on the loose. I read there was a fire recently."

    If Jack didn''t know better, and he probably didn''t, he would say that Kieran was fishing. He shrugged it off as a business owner''s concern over the neighborhood. "He''s not being specific. So uh¡­ Whatcha reading?"

    Kieran smirked and turned the slim book over and held it out to Jack. "Carmilla. A lesbian vampire, so she had two traits working against her having any semblance of a happy ending. It seems to be a running theme."

    His smile slipped into a frown as he looked past Jack. "Lindsey," he warned in a terse tone.

    Jack turned to find Lindsey making a show of examining a high backed chair. She smiled at him before turning her gaze to the couple shopping.

    "Very well," Kieran relented.

    Jack watched, fascinated, as Lindsey greeted the customers with sincere enthusiasm. He wondered what it was like to easily chat with strangers and apparently enjoy it. "Was she gonna jump me again?" he asked, pulling his attention back to Kieran.

    "No, she''s had her eye set on them since the moment they came in," Kieran replied with a sigh. "She does well with speaking with customers, but she''s¡­ unable to do much else."

    "Yeah, that whole germaphobe thing. That''s gotta suck. Why''s she work here?" Jack asked, waving his hand to the room at large. "I mean, not that it''s dirty or anything, but everything''s¡­ old?"

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    "She appeared on my doorstep," Kieran replied with some amusement. "I didn''t know what I was getting into when I acquired her from her previous residency."

    Jack resumed watching Lindsey happily converse with the couple. "At least she''s good with customers."

    Kieran nodded and picked up his book. "She likes people."

    "Gross. Er. Nothing against her. That''s an admirable trait." Jack turned to face Kieran and, for once, didn''t feel the need to shrink away at the amusement directed at him. "I like that she likes people. I wish I could like people. Like that. People are nice. Sometimes."

    "I have an idea for tonight. We could order in," Kieran offered. "You''ll avoid the general public, and I''ll help keep you off the streets."

    Takeout was usually cheap, or at least within Jack''s budget, so he shouldn''t feel the sharp stab of being indebted. He might even be able to pay for the both of them. He was pretty sure he had funds in his checking account and that his credit card was paid down. "Sure. Chinese? Pizza?"

    "I''m considering ordering from Le Poulet Noir," Kieran said distractedly as he placed the book he''d been reading in the display case by the register.

    "Le¡­ That ritzy French place?" Jack asked, his voice breaking. He''d fallen into another trap. Somehow. What was it with weirdo Europeans giving him things? It was nice being on the receiving end of generosity; he just needed to learn to accept it without guilt. Without dread.

    "Yes. They have a decent amount of positive reviews."

    "Yeah¡­ I didn''t know they did takeout."

    "Most restaurants have succumbed to the march of time and the necessity to keep up. Even the most prestigious will bend for the right name or price."

    "Sure. That''s not what''s going on, right? The right price?"

    "Oh, heavens, no. It''s listed on their website," Kieran said with a laugh. He leaned over the counter and lowered his voice. "Which, if I''m to guess, looks much better than mine." His smile was light and teasing.

    Jack''s stomach dropped. "You remember that. Great. I was kinda drunk."

    Kieran nodded and straightened as the older couple approached the register. "Lindsey designed it."

    "That explains the Geocities vibe," Jack said under his breath.

    "Hey! I was on ten webrings," Lindsey said from behind Jack. "I know how to make a functioning website."

    Jack sidled away from the register, and Lindsey followed. "Functioning is a low bar. I can send you some tutorials."

    Lindsey scoffed and tossed her hair. "It works. There''s a form. People have used it! We''ve sold things through it. Don''t diss my website."

    "I''m not¡­" Jack broke off with a sigh. "Sorry. I just think you guys''d do better with a more¡­ modern setup."

    He slouched and shuffled a step back as Lindsey''s eyes narrowed. He shivered as the temperature seemed to drop. "Sorry," he said quietly.

    "Whatever. I''m heading out. Enjoy date night," Lindsey said as she waved her hand dismissively. She headed to the back storeroom, then paused before moving to the backroom that exited to the alleyway. "It''s a new moon, and I''m working with a theory that it ups my range."

    Jack frowned. "What range?" he mumbled as she disappeared through the doorway.

 A Small Gift

    Dinner had been delicious, charming, romantic¡­

    Jack did his best not to glare at the dishes he had offered to clean. Every time he told himself he wasn''t going to get deeper in the relationship, become more attached to Kieran, he turned right around and let the opposite happen.

    He rinsed off the plate he was working on. The night had turned domestic, and he found himself yearning for something he couldn''t have. He might''ve lucked out with the ace thing, but no one wanted to be with a nutjob in the long run. Especially not someone whose plates had gold running along the outer edge.

    One hurdle down, and he was already too exhausted to do more than gaze wistfully at the finish line.

    He had yet to give Kieran the gunmoney coin. It was probably just as well. Giving an old Irish coin to someone because they were Irish was a stupid idea. He may as well have grabbed a box of Lucky Charms.

    "Would you like help?"

    Jack gasped and lost his grip on the plate. He felt it shatter at his feet and could only hear his own ragged breathing. Damage control. Distraction. Something. Anything.

    Anything to avoid the incoming punishment and pain.

    A light pressure on his shoulders guided him back a few steps. "I should clean that up," he whispered.

    "It''s my fault. I''ve got it," Kieran said. He bent down to retrieve the broken pieces.

    Jack shook his head and wrapped his arms tightly around his stomach. This was worse than the teddy bears. "I dropped it. I''m sorry! I-I zoned out, and I¡­ I''m sorry."

    "It happens," Kieran said reassuringly. "It''s an incomplete set. If anything, you''ve evened out the plates to match the bowls."

    Too understanding. Too accommodating. It wasn''t right.

    "Oh, my sweet siren," Kieran said softly. He set the broken pieces on the counter and stood in front of Jack. He stroked Jack''s cheek and pulled him into a hug.

    "It''s just a plate. The set broke during shipping, and I put in an insurance claim," he said as he threaded his fingers through Jack''s hair. "I''ve already sold off the soup tureen and tea cups as replacement pieces. There''s not as much call for the plates and bowls, so I kept them for myself."

    Jack nodded as Kieran spoke. He felt marginally better, and he was grateful that Kieran''s explanation gave a reason for the lack of annoyance.

    Kieran pulled away and tucked a bit of Jack''s hair behind his ear. "No harm done."

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    Jack breathed in shakily, his eyes glued to Kieran''s chest. It wasn''t as bad as he was making it out to be. It wasn''t as bad as he wanted it to be. He lowered his eyes and picked at his cuticles, stripping away little bits of skin. He flinched when Kieran gently took his hands.

    "I''m gonna go sit down. Or something," he said.

    Kieran gave Jack''s hands a light squeeze before he went back to cleaning up the remnants of the plate.

    Jack felt Kieran''s eyes follow him as he slowly made his way to the couch. He self-consciously curled up in the corner and stared at his bag sitting on top of the coffee table. Now was as good a time as ever to give Kieran the coin.

    He pulled his bag closer and rummaged around until he found the small box containing the coin. He grimaced at his shoddy wrapping done with a discarded newspaper.

    The couch shifted beside him, and he turned to face Kieran. He held out the box. "I, uh¡­ kinda got you something. Sorta," he said as his eyes darted up to meet Kieran''s gaze.

    Kieran smiled brightly, his delight contagious. His movements were slow and careful as he unwrapped the gift. He froze before pulling the clear box that held the coin free from the paper. "This is¡­"

    "It''s just a cheap reproduction," Jack said quickly.

    "I must argue that it''s a rather good reproduction," Kieran said as he held up the coin and turned it. "1690¡­ A wonderful year full of life and joy. Wherever did you find it?"

    "Uh¡­ Someplace?" Jack tugged at his sleeve and looked away.

    "The Bradley Estate," Kieran said with a knowing smile. "I recall reading about a small coin collection up for auction."

    "That Benoit lady made me take it when she caught me staring," Jack admitted mulishly. "It has a clover, and I know that''s not all there is to Ireland."

    "We also have potatoes and sheep," Kieran said teasingly.

    "And bogs, I guess?" Jack watched as Kieran turned and examined the coin closely. Benoit was right, Kieran was beginning to get a particularly miserable look in his eye. "It''s probably cursed. I''ve cursed you. I''m sorry."

    "I''m already cursed, my sweet," Kieran said, his voice quiet and pained.

    Wrong tactic. Jack forced a smile and scooted closer to Kieran. "With an awesome life? Good looks? Travel? Your own business? Yeah. Nice curse. Where do I sign up?"

    Kieran shook his head and smiled. "My door is always open to you. Even when it''s locked, apparently," he said, raising a brow at Jack.

    "Sorry."

    "Oh, I''m angry with neither you nor Lindsey," he said. "I''d rather she let you in when I''m not available. Certainly better than having you linger on the street."

    "Especially with my damned curfew," Jack muttered, bitter over the reminder.

    "Will you be staying the night, or would you like me to take you home?"

    "Home. No. Wait." Jack stared at his lap. He was enjoying his time with Kieran, and wouldn''t mind seeing what staying the night on purpose would be like. It had nothing to do with going through Sam''s computer and finding a couple crime scene photos that decided to permanently burn themselves into his mind. "I''ll just stay here tonight. Your couch is nice."

    "I''d offer my bed, but I don''t believe you trust me." Kieran''s smile gave no sign of being offended.

    "Er¡­ I don''t not trust you, exactly. You''ve seen my mattress. Your couch is an upgrade."

    "I''ll get you a blanket. But I must warn you," Kieran said, leaning over to place a soft kiss on Jack''s cheek, "it''s a nice blanket."

 Tragically Romantic

    While Kieran collected sheets and a blanket, Jack used his brief stint of privacy to call up Sam.

    "Fairchild."

    "In case you feel the need to swing by my place to babysit me, I''m not there, and I''m not dead in a ditch," Jack said. He glanced up in time to catch Kieran emerging from the hall, a small pile of blue and white bed linens in his arms.

    "Staying the night with the boyfriend?" Sam asked.

    "Not like that!" Jack hissed. He grabbed the pillow from the top of Kieran''s arms, hoping to distract from his burning cheeks. "I''m couch surfing. Luxury couch surfing."

    "No litter boxes, I take it?" Sam''s tone was loud and clear with its knowing smile.

    "I didn''t spy on you."

    "Oh? For some reason, my cursor decided to take a tour through some highly sensitive folders when I normally go to lunch. Which, if I recall, are password protected."

    "Uh¡­ You should maybe¡­ update that?" It wasn''t his fault people had a habit of choosing sentimental passwords. Jack hugged the pillow tighter and failed miserably at giving an innocent grin to Kieran. He thanked his paranoia for setting his call volume as low as he could get away with.

    "Ooh, the boyfriend''s right there, huh? Does he know what you get up to in your spare time?"

    "Not¡­ exactly." Was he about to be blackmailed? He hoped it didn''t involve a summer full of weeding.

    "Or that you have this habit of self-sabotage?"

    "What? I do not! I mean¡­ Not on purpose. I''m better at not¡­ Not as much anymore."

    "Right," Sam said, drawing out his doubt.

    "Yeah? Well, me and my boyfriend? We''re gonna cuddle and watch bad cop dramas and talk about how realistic they are, and you''re not invited!"

    Sam laughed and relayed Jack''s plans to Candace, and her own laughter soon followed. "Have fun."

    "I will!" Jack hung up and glared at the pig on his phone. He needed to find a less cheerful icon.

    "Cop dramas?" Kieran asked as he sat on the couch and angled himself invitingly against the corner. His smile came off as forced as he continued. "Anything in particular?"

    "Does Police Academy count? I can''t handle gritty right now." Jack eyed the conspicuously empty spot beside Kieran. His longing for comfort won out, and he tossed the pillow on top of the sheets sitting at the other end of the couch. Tugging on his sleeves, he tucked himself up against Kieran and settled in.

    A light, cheerful, and wonderfully dated movie was just what Jack needed to get his mind off things. Happily curled up in Kieran''s arms, he could zone out and ignore the pressures of the world, both real and imagined.

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    Kieran''s hands wandered along Jack''s arms and hair. He bent his head and breathed in deeply as he kissed Jack just behind the ear. He brought his hand up and gently followed a path from Jack''s collar to the base of his ear and back.

    Jack laughed nervously and shied away from the fingers caressing the length of his neck. He shrugged his shoulder to rub away the lingering sensation. "What''s with the neck fetish?"

    "I don''t believe it qualifies as a neck fetish," Kieran murmured. "I''m just partial to the area. Sensitive, intimate, vulnerable, a sign of trust¡­" He kissed the shell of Jack''s ear.

    "God, you''re like a fucking vampire," Jack said with a soft laugh.

    "Oh, yes. Exactly! I find them tragically romantic."

    "Emphasis on the tragedy. Whatever. It wasn''t bad." Jack shrugged and laid his head on Kieran''s shoulder. "Before. When I freaked out. It was too close to¡­" His brows furrowed as he lost track of his thoughts. "Too close to the next step."

    It sounded right, but he felt like the real meaning had been lost.

    "Yes, I understand that now. Perhaps we can work our way up, so you''ll feel more comfortable?" Kieran offered as he leaned back and tilted his head. "I know words are just that, but my attentions would not lead to¡­" He looked away as he trailed off.

    "Rape," Jack said firmly as he sat up. "The word you''re looking for? Rape. Don''t you pretty it up."

    "Quite. I''d be more apt to try a sip of your blood than force myself on you," Kieran said, one side of his lips turning up.

    "And I thought I had the monopoly on saying weird shit." Jack crossed his arms and shook his head with a sigh. "Sorry. This kinda ruins the mood, doesn''t it?"

    "Nothing that can''t be rectified, my sweet." Kieran tilted Jack''s chin and kissed him, lightly sucking at Jack''s lips.

    Jack froze then relaxed, opening his mouth to Kieran. He was prepared to be on the receiving end of a deep and enthusiastic kiss, but Kieran had already moved on, kissing the side of Jack''s mouth then the angle of his jaw before pulling away completely.

    "Better?" Kieran asked, his voice soft and low.

    "Yeah. That was nice. Good. You''re a good kisser. I think. I don''t get out much."

    "So I''ve been led to believe."

    Jack licked his lips as his heart sped up, his stomach rolling with anxiety. "I¡­ I don''t mind getting out with you. Dating. Going places. This," he said. The words were out, and he hadn''t tripped over them too badly.

    Kieran leaned in for another brief kiss. "I would love to keep you around, my sweet."

    Panic raced up Jack''s spine and gripped his throat. He clenched his hand, digging his nails deep into his palm. "K-keep?"

    Kieran sat back and eyed Jack with an air of concern. "I may have phrased that poorly. I enjoy your company and would welcome it for as long as you''re willing," he said, taking Jack''s fist into his hands and lightly rubbing his fingertips over Jack''s knuckles.

    Jack slowly unfurled his fingers and gave a shallow and jerky nod. "Right. Sorry, I just¡­ took that wrong?"

    "Nothing to be sorry for, sweet thing," Kieran said and kissed Jack''s fingers. "I''ll let you get some sleep. Goodnight and sleep well, my sweet siren."

    "Yeah, same to you. Don''t let the bed bugs bite or the rabbits steal you."

    Kieran''s brows furrowed in confusion. "I''m not familiar with the second phrase."

    "Me neither. I don''t know why I said that. Ignore me. I''m tired," Jack said, forcing a yawn. "G''night."

    The moment Kieran turned the corner, Jack released his hold, and his breaths came in shallow bursts. What did rabbits have to do with bedbugs? There was something important. Important to him.

    As he drifted to sleep, he could recall a woman''s voice speaking quietly to him at night.

    You''re so cute, I sure hope the rabbits don''t mistake you for one of their own and steal you away during the night, my little Jackalope.

 Shear Damage

    Jack''s dreams were filled with gaping mouths without tongues and bloated eyes bursting from their sockets. He''d woken several times throughout the night and eventually resorted to turning on the TV. He set the volume to a low murmur and attempted to fall asleep to Julia Child''s directions on cooking a chicken.

    His eyes kept flicking to the hall, expecting to see Kieran round the corner at any moment. Part of him wanted some midnight comfort, but dreaded the thought of it and the questions that would be sure to follow.

    He jarred awake as another vivid nightmare hit him. Sitting up, he rubbed at his eyes as he looked around. Thin sunlight streamed in through the windows, lending the open room an air of welcoming eeriness.

    The soft sound of bare feet on the floor drew Jack''s attention to the hallway. His eyes widened, and his breath caught at the sight of Kieran.

    The loose pants hanging from his hips was all Kieran wore, and his hair was damp and disheveled, fresh from a shower. "Good morning, my sweet," he said as he reached the edge of the couch.

    "Yeah, pretty morning." Jack cleared his throat and looked away, grabbing his phone to have something to busy himself with. "Good morning."

    "Or would you prefer¡­ Top o'' the mornin'' to ya''."

    "Oh, my god," Jack mumbled, fumbling with his phone. He glanced up to find Kieran smiling mischievously at him. "Is that your, uh, real accent? I mean, not to be offensive or anything. That''s just more Lucky Charms than I was expecting, but it does go more that way sometimes. Not judging. Just kinda noticed. Maybe. I dunno. I''m not great with accents."

    Kieran shrugged. "It changes as I move around, but a certain level of sophistication is expected in my line of work. Don''t want to come off as a pub-crawling farmer, do I?"

    "Guess not."

    "How did you sleep?" asked Kieran.

    "Good enough." Jack looked away and forced his breaths to come slow and steady as he tapped through the login screen of his obligatory phone game. The tips of his ears burned as the silence drew on.

    Kieran knew. At least he wasn''t saying anything. But was that better or worse?

    Jack braced himself and looked up, only to find Kieran missing. A cabinet closed in the kitchen, and he turned to find Kieran setting a small grinder and french press on the counter.

    He rested his arms on the back of the couch and got more comfortable. His eyes roamed over Kieran''s bare chest. The man was unfairly pretty. Competent, charming, not in it for the sex¡­ There had to be a catch.

    Kieran turned and reached up to grab a pair of mugs from another cabinet, and Jack''s eyes tracked down from broad shoulders to a large scar marring the skin of Kieran''s lower right back.

    Jack sat up to get a better look. It wasn''t just one scar, it was a pair: two long gashes, each about two inches.

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    "Something wrong?" asked Kieran.

    "Nothing. I''m good. You''re good," Jack replied, dropping back down and losing his view of the scars. He lightly scratched his fingernails across the back of his left hand. "That''s a¡­ big scar?"

    Kieran reached back to touch the scar and measured it with his thumb and forefinger. "It is a long one, yes," he said as he scrutinized his fingers. "From my younger years. There was a disagreement."

    "Big enough to get shivved in a parking lot?" Jack said incredulously. With such a dismissive tone, there had to be a good story behind the scar. If he could get a date range and general location, then maybe he could track down some police reports. Maybe some medical records if he could swing it.

    Sam''s voice echoed its mantra of "no spying."

    "I suppose." Kieran came out from behind the kitchen counter and approached the back of the couch, stopping in front of Jack.

    "You''re just making me more curious," Jack whined in frustration. Most likely, it was something stupid. Like falling off a bike or poor knife safety in a kitchen.

    "Perhaps, one day, I''ll tell you all about how I almost lost a sheep shearing competition," Kieran said as he leaned down.

    Bewildered, Jack leaned back and gave Kieran another once over. Kieran did not look the part of some sheep-toting farmhand. "You can shear a sheep?"

    "I can shear a sheep in under two minutes," Kieran whispered before swooping in and kissing the side of Jack''s neck.

    "That''s¡­ What?" Jack watched, mouth agape, as Kieran sauntered back into the kitchen to finish making coffee. "I think I''m supposed to be impressed? Why''d you quit?"

    Kieran''s soft smile turned melancholic. "I moved on from that phase in my life."

    Being on a farm made a little more sense for the lack of background. And having sheep shearing competitions fit the bill for middle of nowhere Ireland. Jack couldn''t imagine what it would have been like growing up in a small village, much less on a farm. Kieran must have taken his education and run the moment he got the chance.

    Jack slouched as more questions were raised. "I guess that''d be a fun hobby in rural Ireland," he said, scratching his head.

    Kieran paused as he poured the coffee, and a small frown formed. His eyes searched the mug in his hand before he looked up with a lopsided smile. "Not a hobby, exactly. I think it would be more akin to your 4-H Club. You learn to care for animals, grow your own food, and stay out of your parents'' hair for a while."

    "I got sent to summer camp. Once," Jack said, grinning. "Nature didn''t agree with me. Got stung, bit, scratched up, and thrown in the lake."

    "I''m told such things build character."

    Jack snorted and rolled his eyes. "My dad said the same thing."

    His chest tightened in uncertainty. A looming fog told him his dad never cared. That was why his dad left. If death was considered leaving.

    Jack''s fingers dug into the back of the couch as conflicting memories warred with each other. Images of shared laughter and shooting off fireworks were bright and solid against a backdrop of apathy and disregard.

    He could remember his dad telling him his experience at camp built character with loving understanding, but he had the same memory painted with cold indifference. Which one was real?

    A light, circling pressure on his hand drew Jack back into the present, and he blinked up at Kieran''s concerned face. He swallowed and quickly looked away.

    "I''m fine. Sorry. Just¡­ memory. Stuff. Things."

    Kieran nodded and kissed the top of Jack''s head. "How do you take your coffee?"

    Jack closed his eyes and sighed in relief. "Anywhere from black to coffee-flavored milk," he replied.

 Shadow

    After leaving Kieran''s, Jack''s afternoon was spent in the library and filled with videos on sheep shearing. He couldn''t see immaculately put together Kieran getting down and dirty with a wooly beast and a pair of blade shears. Although, he wouldn''t mind seeing Kieran trussed up in some historical clothing.

    Was there a market in the antiques world for historical costumes? And if so, how willing would Kieran be to model such costumes? With how suspiciously accommodating Kieran was, Jack was sure he would be more than happy to entertain the proposal.

    It was a quarter past six when Jack remembered to check how much time he''d wasted. He glared at the clock on his phone; he was running out of daylight for his curfew.

    He texted his complaints to Sam and packed up. All he got in return were a handful of smiling emojis, which came off as gloating. He genuinely loved the guy, but he could deal without the looming presence of a self-appointed babysitter. Another ping and a handful of clocks and watches told him Sam was going to be busy for a while. Unless the translation was supposed to be "Tick-tock, dumbass."

    His walk home was uneventful, but a chilly reminder that he needed to get a proper coat. He wrote himself a reminder on his phone. The selfish part of him wished he''d kept Kieran''s coat.

    As Jack trudged up the stairs of his apartment, his nose scrunched up at the smell of cigarette smoke. The scent set him on edge with its familiarity, but he couldn''t place why. He tried to shrug it off as one of his neighbors switching brands.

    Slowly, he unlocked and opened his door and froze. One of his CD cases was out of alignment. He swallowed thickly as his eyes darted over the surfaces he could see from the doorway. His line of bottles was slightly off, and his stack of junk mail wasn''t as he''d left it. There was also the tip of an unfamiliar shadow spilling across his floor.

    He kept his grip tight on the door handle, ready to pull it shut at the first sign of movement. He opened the door a little wider as he turned his face to his bag, rummaging around as he kept his eyes on the shadow. "Where is¡­ Ah, shit. God fucking damnit."

    He huffed and stepped back into the hallway, pulling the door shut and locking it. He stomped angrily down the stairs as he pulled out his phone and tapped on the pig. His breath hitched when he heard a door open and the top of the stairs creak behind him. He resisted the urge to look.

    "Fairchild. Leave a detailed message."

    Jack''s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He waited a beat after the tone before speaking, doing his best to keep the tremor from his voice.

    "Hey, did I leave my charger there?" he said as he exited the apartment building. He paused on the stoop as he weighed his options. He looked up the street in the direction of Kieran''s shop. It was close and relatively safe.

    "Damn. Maybe I left it at Kieran''s. Shit. I probably did. Thanks anyway. Catch you tomorrow!"

    He hung up and called Kieran next. He glanced at an angled storefront window as he passed by and almost froze when he recognized the man walking a few paces behind him.

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    "Hello, Jack. Is¡ª"

    "Hey! I think I left my charger at your place."

    "I don''t believe¡ª"

    "Great. I''m on my way. I''ll be about ten minutes." Ten minutes was too long. He needed an excuse to go faster. Anything, no matter how stupid.

    "I see. The door will be unlocked. Would you like me to meet you?"

    "Really? I''m great with cats! Don''t spook it. I''ll jog the rest of the way! I''ll be right there!"

    "I do hope you won''t be hanging up."

    "Ha, no way. It''s a free cat! See you in a sec. Bye!"

    Jack clutched his phone tightly as he began running, hoping it didn''t come off as panicked. Almost getting hit by a car on the way might not have worked in his favor.

    He reached the antique store and was grateful to see Kieran holding the door open for him.

    "Lock it," he whispered harshly as he hurried inside. Even with the loud click of the deadbolt being set, Jack couldn''t get himself to calm down.

    "What''s happening? What''s wrong?" Kieran asked. His voice was calm even as he sent a worried glance out the window.

    "Someone''s following me," Jack replied, hugging himself tightly. He shook as he gasped for breath. "He was in my apartment, and he''s after me."

    Kieran looked from the empty street to Jack and back. "Are you certain?"

    "He went through my mail! One of my CD cases was almost a foot out of place! Of course I''m fucking certain! Maintenance leaves a god damned fucking note right where I can see it if they touch my shit! They fucking know better!" Jack shouted as he gestured wildly. He wasn''t crazy, he was cautious.

    "The guy following me was sent! I saw him! I saw his reflection. He''s gonna bring me back to¡­to¡­" He was losing track of his thoughts. He needed Kieran to understand before he completely lost it. A desperate whine escaped his throat as the fog threatened to take everything away. "I can''t go back! I can''t go back to that! Please don''t let him get me!"

    "My sweet, I need you to concentrate," Kieran said as he threw a glance at the window. "Who sent him to get you?"

    Jack''s voice left him as he began to answer. Just a moment ago, he''d been certain of who would be after him. Was someone after him? Who would want anything to do with him? He wasn''t worth the trouble.

    "Who what? I don''t know! Someone''s¡­ I''m¡­ I''m paranoid. I''m sorry. I don''t¡­" Jack shook as he stared at the floor in confusion. He was certain he''d seen the man following him, but he couldn''t recall any features. He must have seen someone walking down the same block as him and let his imagination carry him away.

    "No, don''t apologize. I believe you, but can you describe who is following you?" Kieran asked, his voice soothing and quiet.

    Jack glanced up and swallowed under Kieran''s intense stare. "I don''t¡­ M-maybe? He looks like¡­a guy. I don''t remember. I''m sorry. I sound crazy."

    He frowned as he went over what happened when he opened his apartment door. Things out of place, no note, a shadow that shouldn''t be there¡­ And on his way to Kieran''s, he''d seen a man following him. But the moment he tried to remember a face, a build, clothing, anything, everything slipped and became muddy. He shook his head and shrugged. "I shouldn''t have come," he whispered.

    Jack was ready for pity or an argument, already tightly hugging himself and breathing raggedly from both his run and settling panic. This was all the proof Kieran needed that he should be committed. He shivered as a chill ran up his spine and Kieran shifted his gaze from Jack to the back wall.

    "We''ll go upstairs," Kieran said as he quickly strode to Jack and placed a guiding hand on Jack''s shoulder.

    "What? Why? I''m just para¡ª"

    Glass exploded inward in a deafening crash.

 Knife

    Jack gasped as Kieran pushed him back, and he stared at the ruined window display in shock. A large trash can rocked back and forth on its side and was kicked out of the way as a large man came through the window.

    "I¡­ I know that guy," Jack whispered. "He works for¡­" He trailed off as the memories escaped him. He could have sworn he knew who the man was a moment ago. It was like forgetting a word that he''d used before. It was right there. He knew the feel of it, but he could no longer form the word or really define it. He was shaken from his thoughts and stumbled as Kieran shoved him behind a display case.

    The man raised his arm, pointing a gun at Kieran. "You got something that don''t belong to you, buddy."

    Kieran''s lip curled in disgust. "And what would that be?"

    Jack cried out when the gun fired. Kieran stumbled back and crashed into a display case, clutching the side of his neck.

    "K-Kieran?"

    "Run. Back door," he rasped. "Keys¡ª"

    Jack flinched back as another shot rang out, and blood bloomed from the center of Kieran''s chest. He scrambled back and fell as the gunman stepped over Kieran''s lifeless body. He struggled to stand and moved to get another case between them. Anything to buy a little more time. He hit a wall and edged along it.

    "C''mon, Sparky. Don''t make this more difficult. Don''t like working that hard for payday, y''know."

    Ice enveloped Jack''s right hand, and he quickly glanced down. Just beside him, a case of knives and daggers sat wide open, offering a variety of weapons to choose from. He grabbed what he hoped was the sharpest dagger and held it in front of himself as he edged along the case. "Leave me alone! The cops know I''m here!"

    The man laughed as he advanced on Jack. "As if that''s gonna matter," he said as he holstered his gun. He leaned back as Jack made a swipe at him. "Shoulda spent your free time learning to fight, kiddo!"

    Jack pressed himself back against the case, its edge digging into his lower back. He swallowed and reached back with his left hand and found the handle of a knife just as the man grabbed his right wrist and squeezed. He clenched his eyes shut and struck out blindly.

    The hand holding his wrist loosened. A strangled gurgling made him look up to see the damage he''d caused, torn between the thought of being successful and causing harm to another living creature.

    The man''s hand was pressed tightly against his throat, but it did nothing to stop the swift flow of blood. He fell forward, and Jack skittered out of the way, his heels slipping in the growing pool of blood.

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    He fell to the floor and dragged himself further away. His back hit the side of an old loveseat, and he pressed himself against it, hugging his knees to his chest as he gasped for breath.

    "Jack! You okay?"

    He looked up, expecting to console a distraught Lindsey. His eyes widened as a shadow solidified into something resembling her familiar appearance.

    He was met with blood. So much blood, he could barely make out Lindsey''s face. Part of her skull was missing, and a long gash ran from her left shoulder to her right hip.

    He could see her ribs.

    She knelt before him, raising her hands as she spoke softly. "No, no, no. It''s okay. I''m okay, and you''re okay. This is the best I can do right now, Jack. I''m so sorry! Trust me, I can''t hurt you. I don''t even wanna hurt you."

    Jack shook his head, leaning as far as he could from her. Fingers were missing from her left hand, and she had a bone protruding from her right forearm. "What happened to your hand? Oh, god, your face! Your head! How are you alive?!"

    "I''m not alive. Haven''t been for a while. I''m sorry," she said. "I don''t feel anything, so it''s okay."

    "It''s not okay! It''s not okay!" Jack screamed. He tucked his head between his knees and covered his head with his arms. "Fuck! Nothing''s okay! I can see your ribs! Your guts! No, no, no, no! I''m crazy! I''m still fucking crazy! Just let me be crazy! This isn''t¡­ This isn''t real."

    "Jack? Jack, my sweet, please look at me."

    Looking up at the sound of Kieran''s voice, relief flooded him that he could no longer see Lindsey. He had to be hallucinating. Kieran had just been knocked out, and the stress was getting to him. He cringed away as Kieran knelt before him.

    "He shot you!" Jack reached out to touch Kieran''s bloody neck, but quickly snatched his hand back. Blood covered the front of Kieran''s shirt. Was he still hallucinating, or was something else going on? Kieran shouldn''t be able to move around so easily with a chest wound.

    "Yes, he did. But he didn''t get you, and that''s what matters," Kieran said, his voice soft and reassuring. "Jack, please look at me. Look at me, Jack. My sweet, sweet siren. It''s alright."

    Jack pulled his eyes away from Kieran''s neck. He wanted to make light of the situation and tease Kieran for the thicker accent, but he became trapped in Kieran''s gaze. The world fell away and didn''t need to make sense anymore. He threw himself into the feeling, grateful for the sliver of sanity it offered. Things would work out. Kieran would take care of him, but was Kieran okay?

    And even if everything worked out in the end, that wouldn''t help Lindsey. She was a ghost. No, she was alive. She was fine. He''d seen her yesterday. She hadn''t been at the store when he arrived today. She missed out on him venting about the maintenance worker that kicked one of his CD cases. They called him to apologize when he was halfway to Kieran''s.

    He couldn''t recall if he''d gotten an annoyed or amused vibe from Kieran. He did get a glass of wine, though. And a couch to crash on. He kinda liked Kieran''s couch. It was more comfortable than an old mattress sitting on the floor. He should really get back to sleep.

    Everything would be okay when he woke up.

 Shattered

    The wonderful smell of bacon greeted Jack as he awoke. If dumping his complaints on Kieran always resulted in bacon for breakfast, then he might have to start thinking about ditching his lease and moving in.

    He pushed himself onto his elbows and poked his head over the back of the couch. He watched as Kieran moved around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients. "Do you need help?" he asked, hoping the only help needed was to relieve Kieran of any excess bacon.

    Looking up from his work, Kieran smiled and shook his head. "I''m capable of handling breakfast."

    "Suit yourself," Jack mumbled, dropping back into the comfort of the couch. He rummaged around for his phone before finding it sitting on the coffee table. He frowned at the missed call. With how light he slept, he found it hard to believe he''d sleep through his obnoxious ringtone. He bit back a yawn and called Sam.

    "Fairchild."

    "Caller ID. It exists."

    "No time," Sam readily replied. "Heard maintenance spooked you last night."

    "What¡­" Jack pulled himself up again as he remembered leaving his weird message with Sam. He had jumped the gun with his paranoia. "Oh, yeah. Sorry."

    "Don''t apologize," Sam replied, the smile in his voice shifted to worry. "With everything that''s going on right now, I''d rather you be safe than sorry. Hell, you got me spooked when you didn''t answer your phone."

    "Shit. Sorry. I kinda crashed when I got here."

    "Kieran said as much when I called him. Tell your boyfriend that he should answer your phone if I call you."

    "Yeah¡­ I''ll let him know," Jack said without conviction.

    "He sent proof of life after I called him. You''re not cute when you''re asleep."

    "Thanks."

    "Oh, and he was wondering about the pig that took over your phone''s screen."

    Sam''s voice was innocent enough, but Jack still felt a little defensive. "It''s not an insult. Exactly."

    "Like the shirt you showed Candy?"

    "She showed it to you?" he moaned as he slouched down. He just thought the shirt was funny. He should have known Candace would pass it on to Sam.

    "Not exactly. She bought it and wore it to the station. She also got one for the captain''s wife. Apparently, it''s very comfortable."

    Jack stared ahead as he processed what Sam said. He could easily imagine Candace wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with ACAB I should know, I married one! in a room full of cops. "That''s amazing!" he said through a fit of laughter.

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    "Yeah. It''s given the captain an idea of who to keep an eye on." Sam sighed in resignation. "Sensitivity and bias training begins next month."

    "Well, I''m always happy to help weed out assholes with guns."

    "It''s obligatory," Sam added with a bitter note.

    "Yeah? Well," Jack trailed off as Kieran set a plate of bacon and eggs on the coffee table. "Well, I''m having pig for breakfast."

    "Enjoy."

    "Oh, I will," he promised. He set his phone aside and moved to sit on the edge of the couch. "So you can cook. Is there anything you can''t do?"

    "Deal with the intricacies of the internet." Kieran leaned down and kissed Jack''s cheek. "I''ll leave you to breakfast."

    "You''re not eating?" Jack asked, looking up from the tempting plate of food.

    "I ate while I cooked," Kieran replied. His expression turned apologetic. "Something came up in the shop, and I didn''t wish to wake you."

    "I''m not lazy or anything. You coulda woke me up."

    "You were sleeping soundly," Kieran said, stroking Jack''s hair.

    "Thanks." Jack''s attention went back to the plate as thoughts over just what he was grateful for bumped against each other. He felt like he should be thanking Kieran for the ability to sleep through the night.

    "I''ll see you downstairs when you''re done. No need to clean up after yourself."

    There might not have been a need, but Jack was going to clean up anyway. Maybe the whole domesticity of staying over was good for his mental health.

    ---

    A piece of plywood covered the storefront window, and shards of broken glass littered the raised floor of the display. Kieran stood beside the raised floor, sweeping the smaller bits of debris toward the edge and into a waiting trash can.

    Jack frowned at the surrounding area. Besides the obvious damage, something else seemed off.

    "What happened? It wasn''t like this last night." At least, he didn''t think so. The sight tugged at his mind like d¨¦j¨¤ vu. Maybe he heard glass shattering in the night, but was too out of it to really care.

    "A brick, apparently." Kieran paused and looked around at the other broken displays. "I''m missing a few things, but nothing insurance can''t handle. You needn''t worry."

    "Shit. I come dumping my problems on you, and now this." Jack looked from the window display to the floor. It looked like a rug was missing. What sort of whacko would steal a rug? It made the floor look even cleaner than Jack remembered. "Sam could probably hook you up if you need a police report real quick."

    "Thank you, but it''s already been taken care of. Someone nearby reported a gunshot, and the police paid a visit not too long after," Kieran said with a bit of annoyance.

    "You should send over the footage. They might have someone on file or something."

    "They suggested as much. I told them I''d look into it tonight. For now, though, I should work on cleaning up the rest of this mess," Kieran said, gesturing to the destroyed window display.

    "I can help," Jack offered.

    "Thank you, but having a mindless task would greatly improve my mood."

    "But¡­" He trailed off, not wanting to voice that he felt like it was his fault.

    Kieran sighed heavily and stopped sweeping. "Please, Jack. I don''t wish you to risk cutting yourself, and I''d rather do this alone."

    "Okay." Jack shrank into himself and hid his hands in his sleeves. He was being pushy and annoying and trying Kieran''s patience. He needed to keep his mouth shut. People liked him better when he was quiet.

    "Would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow night?" Kieran asked.

    "Yeah." Jack met Kieran''s eyes and relaxed. No sign of irritation. "That''d be kinda nice. More than kinda, I mean."

 Password

    The cursor blinked steadily in the password field. Jack tapped his fingers along the table next to his laptop as he stared at the login screen to Kieran''s camera system. Kieran didn''t exactly seem technologically literate, if his refusal to accommodate Lindsey was anything to go by.

    Jack tried the defaults of "admin" and "password" first, followed by a couple variations most companies used. He then got to playing around with a few standards for businesses with names and addresses since the system was so bare bones, he wouldn''t run out of chances. He took it as a personal offense that Kieran didn''t care more about his business''s security.

    Sentimentality was going to be his next batch of passwords. He lightly ran his fingertips over the keyboard as a thought struck him. Kieran had mentioned recently changing the password and hoping he wasn''t jinxing things.

    He typed out "JackElster." Before he could dwell on it more, he tabbed over and logged in, hoping he''d be wrong. Or right. It was a flattering thought.

    A simple interface and a collection of camera angles greeted him. Next time he saw Kieran, he''d suggest not using a business email for his login. This was stupidly easy.

    He would also need to find a way to suggest a different password.

    He enlarged the camera currently occupied by Kieran and clicked on the little speaker icon, hoping the cameras had mics. He smiled as Kieran''s voice filtered through his headphones.

    "¡ªand you''re out for half the day," said Kieran, his annoyance clear. He shook his head and turned to walk out of the camera''s view. A flicker of static jittered across the image, working its way from one side to where Kieran went. "The answer is still no. You have my gratitude, but it is simply not worth the risk. Now if you''ll excuse me, I''ve the rest of this fiasco to take care of."

    Even irritated, Kieran''s voice was like honey to Jack''s ears. He wondered who had earned Kieran''s ire.

    Jack turned his attention to tracking down the footage of the previous night. He figured he''d start at midnight, expecting to have to go forward, but the window display was already a mess. He moved to set the time back another hour, but his hands had a different idea.

    The approximate time of his phone call to Kieran ticked by in the corner, and he had to admit that he was curious if Kieran acted annoyed behind his back. He sat back, ready to be disappointed.

    He flipped through the cameras, quickly finding Kieran standing in the open doorway.

    "Any sign of him?" Kieran asked, bringing his phone to ear and frowning. "He''s still running." He breathed a heavy sigh and stepped back, holding the door open further.

    Jack came barreling in not a minute later.

    He watched himself in confusion, getting conflicting flashes. The scene he was watching wasn''t right. He hadn''t been panicked. He''d been annoyed that his setup had been disrupted by maintenance, and he''d come to complain to Kieran.

    But maintenance rarely came over, and they always left a note on his counter when they did show up. Always a note in plain sight. Never a phone call.

    He froze up at the sound of glass breaking, dread slowly building. Kieran was going to die. Kieran was dead. But he had spoken to Kieran just a few hours ago.

    On the screen, Kieran pushed Jack behind a large display case.

    Jack''s heart beat erratically as he watched Kieran sneer at the man. Even knowing what came next didn''t prepare him for the loud gunshot and the image of Kieran stumbling and crashing into the glass of the case.

    Jack covered his mouth with his hands and flinched as the second shot rang out and Kieran slumped over, lifeless. He zoomed in on Kieran, ignoring the large figure that crossed the frame. The glitchy static appeared over Kieran and slipped off to where Jack and the gunman were.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    He half-listened as he heard himself scream. He would have the knife by now. His own ordeal would be over, but Kieran was still dead on the floor. He kept a close eye on the pixels surrounding Kieran, but there was no movement aside from the residual artifacts of the recorded image.

    He swallowed as he heard his screams turn frantic, the memory of Lindsey''s bloodied face and mauled torso becoming crystal clear. Lindsey was dead. Lindsey had been dead since the moment he met her. And Kieran¡­

    Kieran was struggling to sit up, clutching at the bloody mess his neck had become and looking disoriented.

    Everything was becoming clearer, and Jack shook as the false memories gave way to reality. If it could even be called that.

    Ghosts were real. Kieran was¡­

    What was Kieran?

    He switched camera angles and turned up the volume as Kieran talked him down.

    "Look at me, Jack. My sweet, sweet siren. It''s alright. Everything is fine. It will all work out. I understand this is so much for you. You can let it go," Kieran said in a steady voice that held an edge of forced calm.

    "No one is after you, I''ll make sure of it. I''m working on it, I swear. No more hiding in the shadows. No more uncertainty and fear. I''ll protect you," he promised. "Now, listen very carefully."

    Whatever was going on, Jack''s past self was absolutely out of it as he nodded along.

    "Sure, but are you okay?" Jack slurred, wobbling unsteadily.

    "I''m fine, sweet thing," Kieran said as he lovingly stroked Jack''s hair.

    "Lindsey''s a ghost."

    "Lindsey is alive and well." Kieran glared over his shoulder at the staticy glitch before turning his full attention back to Jack. "Lindsey is fine. The last time you saw her was yesterday. You came here tonight to vent about the maintenance worker at your apartment who inadvertently kicked part of your makeshift security system. They called you on your way here to apologize for the inconvenience."

    Kieran lifted Jack''s hand to his lips. "Having any sort of intruder in your space must be stressful. I offered you a glass of wine to help you relax, and you fell asleep on my couch. Now, then, my sweet, go to sleep, and all will be well when you awaken."

    Jack''s jaw went slack as he watched himself fall forward into Kieran''s waiting arms and was carefully picked up.

    Kieran paused to glare at the static. "Oh, do shut up, you stupid ghost. If he didn''t like you, I''d put you back on eBay where you belong," he threatened before heading to the back of the store.

    Jack stared at the empty screen in silence. Eventually, Kieran reappeared and dragged the dead man onto a nearby rug, already ruined with Kieran''s blood.

    "I have a lovely urn awaiting you," Kieran said. "But, for now, I''ll introduce you to my freezer."

    Jack slowly closed his laptop and stared ahead. He was just trying to help. That was all he wanted to do. Just a small thank you for putting up with him. He hadn''t meant to stumble onto¡­

    No. None of this was his fault. He may have led the brute of a gunman to Kieran, but he never asked to be brainwashed or hypnotized or whatever it was Kieran had done to him.

    His chest tightened at the thought. How many times had it happened already? Was that the only reason they were dating?

    Maybe the relationship was still salvageable. If it was just once to get him to calm down¡­

    Who was he kidding? Of course Kieran messed with him more than once. Had any of it been real?

    He pulled out his phone and added an alarm for later that night, labeling it "review audio recordings and footage folder." He popped open his laptop and saved the relevant slice of footage from Kieran''s security cameras.

    He could be on Kieran''s doorstep in about twenty to thirty minutes. He might be out of breath and look a fool, but he couldn''t let anyone else get away with fucking around with his head again.

    He frowned as he stood then dropped back onto his chair. Why would he think that? Again. Again what? Kieran messed with his head. Who else was there?

    He covered his mouth and pulled his knees to his chest. Who else had fucked with his memories?

    There was no one he could talk to. No one would believe him. There was no proof. He''d be locked up with no one to come get him. No one cared enough to find him.

    He glared at his knees as his spiraling thoughts ground to a halt.

    That wasn''t right. Tara had plastered the town and internet with his photograph when he first went missing. She visited him when he was committed and was there when he got out. Sam and Candace had all but adopted him. And there was someone who would believe him. And if he were lucky, Kieran actually liked him and might help. If only out of guilt at getting caught.

 Empty Threat

    Jack stood on the corner and swallowed as his eyes ran over the plywood covering the storefront. He could do this. He could yell at Kieran and sort himself out. He had his alarm set, and his phone was ready to record their conversation.

    He marched up to the door and pushed, but it was locked. He knocked and made an effort to look normal and nonchalant. After a moment of silence and seeing no movement from inside, he banged his fist against the wood. "Lemme in! Or I''ll find a real brick, and your head''ll match the fucking window!"

    He stepped back when the door unlocked and slowly opened, revealing an empty entry. The already cool temperature dipped further.

    "L-Lindsey?"

    The bells on the door chimed softly in response, and the hair on the back of Jack''s neck stood up.

    He swallowed thickly and asked, "Is Kieran here?"

    The door opened wider, and Jack took another step back. "Never¡­ never mind. I''ll come back later. I''ll call. I shoulda called. Sorry." He turned away and froze as cold raced up his arm.

    "Wait! Please! I''m sorry!" Lindsey begged. Her voice had a soft echo and wavered on the edge of hearing.

    He turned back to the door to find a shadow lingering just behind a corner. "You''re dead."

    "I''m sorry," Lindsey said quietly. "I can''t look normal until tomorrow, and I don''t think you wanna see me looking like¡­ like that."

    Jack quickly shook his head. He''d gladly live the rest of his life never seeing Lindsey''s mauled remains again. "Where''s Kieran?"

    "Upstairs. Getting things¡­ ready."

    Jack nodded. He could guess what sort of things Kieran was getting up to. "I need to talk to him."

    "Do you hate me?"

    His eyes widened, and he tugged on his bag strap. Being scared of someone and hating them were entirely different things as far as he was concerned. "W-why would I hate you?"

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    "I lied. I scared you."

    Jack ducked his head. "I¡­ I don''t know. I''m sorry."

    Silence stretched between them as Jack fidgeted on the sidewalk. Lindsey had never been outright mean to him. Sure, she teased him by popping up out of nowhere, but nothing that could really be seen as malicious. He glanced up at the dark shadow. She looked solid enough when he met her, but now he wondered if he would have been able to walk through her.

    "He''s upstairs."

    The air changed, and Jack felt alone. He carefully entered the shop and looked around, his eyes darting about. There was no sign of the ghostly shadow. He breathed shakily as he closed the door. He quickly locked it, hoping no one had followed him this time.

    He reached into his bag and set his phone to record audio. He then grabbed his lipstick taser. It didn''t give him the security and confidence he''d been hoping for.

    Flinching at every sound, he made his way to the back room and the stairwell. This was a stupid idea, and he was going to get himself killed. The murder stairs were going to earn their name, and his body would be crammed into some urn and sold as decoration. He hoped it was a nice urn.

    He reached the top step and hesitated. A power tool was running on the other side, and his mind happily offered him a dozen bloody options for what was going on. He kept his eyes down and opened the door.

    The sounds of sawing cut off, and Jack cringed as the anger powering him shriveled up. He should have thought this through. Should have come up with more of a plan.

    "Jack. Why are you here?"

    There was shock, but no anger. Then again, would a soulless murderer show anger? Would Jack get some sort of warning?

    "If I look up, am I gonna see blood?" His legs were losing feeling, and he didn''t think he''d be able to press the button on his taser. There was the sound of the power tool being set down and plastic shifting. He struggled to breathe as he listened to Kieran''s approach. The moment he saw Kieran''s shoes with flecks of blood, his legs gave out.

    He kept his eyes on the floor and violently shook his head when Kieran tried to lift his chin. "No! No more! Stay the fuck outta my head!"

    "Then might I convince you to join me in another room? I should think being away from the smell might help."

    And with that, Jack''s next breath was filled with nothing but the stench of blood, death, and industrial cleaners. His stomach turned at the thought that he knew that scent intimately, but couldn''t remember why. His vision blurred with tears, and he nodded jerkily.

    "Can you stand?"

    He shook his head and flinched away as Kieran touched his arm.

    "I''m going to help you up. You''re safe, Jack. I swear. I would never hurt you."

    Jack choked on a bitter laugh. He still wanted to believe Kieran. He wanted everything to work out.

    Against his better judgment, he dropped his taser and clutched at Kieran''s arm.

 Special Blood

    Kieran''s bedroom was large and filled with sleek, dark cherry furniture that must have broken someone''s back to get in there. The foot of the bed faced a window looking out onto the street below. The wall behind the bed was painted in a cool red, and the air held the lingering scent of sandalwood.

    In the midst of it all sat Jack. He''d been vaguely aware of being half-carried through the short hallway and set down on the edge of Kieran''s bed. Kieran sat on the floor at his feet, hands resting on Jack''s knees. He was torn between pushing Kieran away and pulling him closer to take whatever comfort he could get.

    "Can I get you anything?" asked Kieran.

    Jack turned his head away, refusing to meet Kieran''s eyes. "Lindsey''s a ghost, and you''re not dead. What are you?"

    "A vampire."

    He''d been expecting a little resistance or flat out denial, not an admission to something that shouldn''t be possible. An argument and fighting for a proper answer would at least give him a foothold on any emotion other than confusion. "God, what the fuck?! I''ve seen you in broad daylight!"

    "Our weaknesses tend to be overexaggerated," Kieran said as he soothingly circled his thumbs on the inner sides of Jack''s knees.

    "No shit! Fuck! Blood flow issue. That neck fetish." Jack dropped back on the bed and covered his face with his arms. "God, you practically spelled out that you were a vampire since the beginning! I fucking sat on the couch!"

    "I''m sorry, my sweet, but you''re not making sense. What''s wrong with the couch?"

    He propped himself onto his elbows and glared at Kieran. "You! You''re the couch! I''m the rat, and you''re the couch-snake."

    "I see."

    "Blood flow issue." Jack sat up and covered the sides of his neck with his hands. "You were gonna bite me! Your spit numbed my neck! No wonder you put up with me, I''m cheap food," he said, finishing in a sulky tone. Of course that was the reason Kieran was interested in him. It made more sense than Kieran actually being into him as a person and his near inability to function as a human being.

    Maybe that was the point.

    "No, my sweet, you''re not," Kieran said, angling his head to meet Jack''s eyes. He looked away as Jack made a point of not looking at him.

    "Then why me? Why not someone else? Someone¡­ Someone into that! Some weirdo goth or something."

    Kieran absently ran a hand up and down Jack''s thigh. "Your blood calls to us. Like a siren. It''s¡­ special."

    "So you only like me ''cuz my blood is like crack for you guys," Jack spat out, knocking Kieran''s hand away. "Figures."

    Placing his hands in his lap, Kieran bowed his head and nodded. "Initially," he admitted. "And then I got to know you."

    "Yeah, right. People don''t date me for me. They get to know me and decide I''m not worth it."

    "I think you''re worth it."

    "Bullshit. You just want my blood. You had to fuck with my head."

    Kieran didn''t look up. "Yes," he said quietly. "That might not have been my wisest choice."

    "What, you couldn''t trust me to make my own decisions?" Jack swallowed against the disappointment of his botched meet-cutes having been tainted. "You had to hedge your bets?"

    "At first, yes. But I¡­ I had given up, but you¡­ I had to take a different route to get you to warm up, and I got to know you better." Kieran breathed in unsteadily. "I''ve grown attached and find myself remembering why I avoid forming such attachments."

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "Because they find out and get pissed off?"

    "Because they always leave," Kieran whispered.

    Jack dug his nails into his arms to keep himself from reaching out to Kieran. He didn''t owe comfort to the man who hurt him. "How many times? How many times have you fucked with my head?"

    Kieran let out a slow breath. "Five, I believe. I''ve only been truly successful twice. You''re wary of letting go and relaxing."

    "No shit! It''s happened before! Like I''m gonna just roll over and let you¡­ It¡­ It''s¡­" Jack frowned as he lost his train of thought. They were talking about why he never relaxed. "I don''t trust people."

    Kieran narrowed his eyes at Jack. "You''ve been enthralled before."

    "The hell are you talking about?"

    "We first met at the internet caf¨¦. When was the first time you were enthralled?"

    "Ten years ago, on Michael''s couch." Just as the words left his mouth, he was left with a sense that he''d forgotten something. He looked around in confusion and ran his hands over the bedspread.

    Couch. Something about a couch.

    "We''re not on your couch," he whispered. Nothing felt right. Where was he? "W-where¡­"

    "You''re on my bed, my sweet."

    "I don''t¡ª" Something wasn''t clicking. "How did I get here?" he asked in a whisper.

    His mind was a skipping record; the moment he made progress, he was right at the beginning. It was like being on the witness stand all over again and trying to not come off as insane. A lot of good that did him. His breaths were ragged as he fisted his hands in the bedspread.

    "You''re safe, my sweet. Nothing will happen." Kieran licked his lips and breathed in deeply. "Do you remember why you came here?"

    Jack''s brows furrowed as he stared down at Kieran. Why was he here? He could remember being angry. Completely pissed off to the point where he''d gladly cause a scene, embarrassment be damned. "To yell at you."

    "Why?"

    He remembered seeing the plywood covering the window as he left that morning, offering to hook Kieran up with a fast tracked police report, and then grabbing the footage himself.

    The footage.

    "The security tape. You wiped my memory!"

    "I did," Kieran said, looking away. He shook his head and sighed. "I made a poor decision and should have trusted you more. For that, I apologize."

    "You''re a vampire," Jack said through gritted teeth.

    "Yes."

    Jack swallowed as Kieran stared up at him expectantly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

    "You have to work it out for yourself, my sweet. I can''t reverse my own thrall, much less another''s," Kieran said softly in a pained voice.

    Jack''s chest tightened. Someone else had messed him up long before he ever met Kieran. "My blood''s like crack," he said slowly. He wasn''t sure how he knew it, but it was true.

    He licked his lips as he could barely recall being slapped and yelled at for going out with Tara on her twenty-first birthday. His fake ID had fooled everyone.

    "Unless I''ve been drinking. Then it''s sour. But you''re happy enough to sit back and offer me a drink."

    "Your comfort comes first. I can wait."

    "Yeah, it''s not like you''ve got a time limit or anything," Jack said with a forced laugh.

    "Very true." Kieran gave Jack a sad smile. "What else do you remember?"

    Jack stared at his knees as he desperately tried to remember bits of his life. He could usually ignore the missing chunks. No one really lingered on their younger years, but there was a difference between not thinking about it and not being able to remember. Normal people didn''t forget their own middle name. Much less their mother''s name.

    He held his hand between them and relaxed minutely when Kieran took it. "I can''t remember my mom''s name," he whispered hoarsely as his eyes filled with tears. "I know it''s there. I remember when I¡­when I visit and can see it, but I can''t remember it. I can''t keep it, and I never think to write it down," he said between sobs.

    Kieran sighed and rested his forehead on Jack''s knee. "You''ll remember some day, my sweet. I''ll help you. If you''ll let me."

    Jack tightened his hold on Kieran''s hand. "I killed a guy."

    "In self-defense."

    "Lindsey''s dead."

    "Yes."

    "Am I friends with a ghost?"

    "If you want to be. She likes you," Kieran said, smiling softly.

    Jack let go of Kieran''s hand and hugged himself. "And I was dating a vampire."

    Kieran''s breath hitched. He swallowed and nodded. "You were."

    "Can we take a break?" Jack asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Kieran nodded and lightly squeezed Jack''s knee. "If you wish."

 Ghosts Arent...

    Normally, the overcast sky would be lifting Jack''s spirits. Soft lighting, turning leaves, and hot coffee. He had even indulged himself with a pumpkin spice latte to add to the mood, but it wasn''t working how he wanted.

    Another reason to be mad at Kieran.

    Distraught, confused, and stuck in a loop of anger and paranoia, he couldn''t lock onto any given emotion long enough to make any worthwhile decisions. He would seek out advice, but none of his friends had experience with literal vampires.

    He had crashed on Tara''s couch, thankful that she didn''t ask questions. Hang out and ignore the problem worked well for them when either needed it. If he wanted a level of prodding, he''d go to Sam or Candace, but he wasn''t ready for that just yet.

    He slouched further into the bench beside Tara. Lake-time was supposed to be relaxing with the possibility of light teasing. He couldn''t relax with the fact that vampires were real hanging over him. Did that mean magic was real? Was he literally cursed?

    "I need four more glitter bombs," said Tara, nudging Jack with her shoulder. "You''re finally past level fifty, right? Get on your phone and join my expedition."

    Jack pulled out his phone and stared at his lock screen. Other people had pictures that mattered to them for their lock screens and backgrounds; he still had his phone''s defaults. Would it mean something if he set Dracula as his lock screen?

    "I broke up with Kieran," he said quietly.

    "Oh." Tara looked at Jack for a moment then back at her phone. "Something happen?"

    He shook his head and shrugged. "We''re taking a break while I sort myself out," he replied. It was true enough.

    Tara turned her phone off and wrapped an arm around Jack''s shoulders. "Do you need me to kick his ass? I can hide some dead fish around his building."

    "No, I just¡­" He leaned into her and let out a heavy sigh. "I dunno. It''s weird."

    "So is it an actual break or a breakup?" She leaned her head against Jack''s and swayed them slightly.

    "I don''t know yet. I might talk to someone else before I make my decision. Maybe Candy, but uh¡­"

    "Yeah¡­ She''s usually dead on, but you''ve been giving her trouble lately."

    Jack rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Not you, too. The sage and crystals are bad enough."

    "Hey! Girl unhaunted my house. I''m convinced."

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "Ghosts aren''t¡­" He huffed and glared at the lake. Ghosts were very real and apparently wanted to be friends with him. He kinda wanted to be friends, too. "Whatever. Maybe you shoulda tried talking to it first?"

    "Don''t need no ouija board to know that wasn''t G-ma," Tara said lowly.

    "Fair enough." He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Level fifty, right? You''re in luck, I hit that yesterday."

    Tara squeezed Jack tightly before letting go.

    ---

    Jack had just entered the library stacks when Sam''s newly assigned grumpy pig lit up his phone. With how everything was going, it was probably more bad news.

    He contemplated letting it go to voicemail, but gave in. He may as well get it over with. Especially if it ended up being about Kieran.

    "Please don''t make me cry."

    "What? No. It''s good news," Sam replied. The sound of steady typing filled the background. "Farragut''s dead."

    Jack dropped his hand and stared ahead for a moment. Sam sounded anything but happy. It had to be a joke. Or maybe he misheard. "You''re shitting me."

    "Kinda wish I was," Sam admitted. He sighed, and his typing became more forceful. "His cellmate stabbed him six times last night."

    "Wow. That''s¡­" Jack glanced around his corner in the library. No ominous flickering from the fluorescent lighting. He should be happy. So why did he feel nothing but dread? There was something about Farragut that he needed to remember. But if the guy was dead, did it really matter?

    Ghosts were real, he reminded himself. Maybe he was about to be haunted. He should get some sage. Lindsey might know of some anti-spook hacks. He wondered if her "range" included the back alley.

    "Yeah, and we just got the proof we needed to deny his parole. I guess it worked out in the end, but I woulda liked to''ve seen that damn smirk wiped off his face."

    Jack nodded along. He felt off. He needed to leave town, but that would require leaving. Packing. Going somewhere unfamiliar. Starting a new life. He could probably deal with that, but if he left, then¡­ Someone would die. And it would be his fault.

    Panic swept over him, and he swallowed down the worst of it. He needed to get off the phone. Hide. Delete everything.

    "Well, at least he''s dead. I''m gonna get back to this," he said.

    Weighted silence filled Sam''s end of the line. "Guestroom''s yours. No litter box."

    "Maybe," Jack said, voice cracking.

    He hung up and sank to the floor beneath the table, hugging his knees tightly to his chest. He sobbed quietly, gasping with shaky breaths.

    Hopelessness overwhelmed him. He was trapped. No one could help him. No one would believe him. If he ever left town, Tara would die.

    It would be just like when he planned to go to college. He''d lost so much already by trying to leave. He couldn''t risk the repercussions again. He''d been pushing it by seeing Kieran. For not doing enough to push him away and selfishly wanting something for himself.

    But Kieran could survive a fatal gunshot. He could probably stand up to another¡ª

    Jack wiped at his eyes as his thoughts abruptly cut off. His panic slowly eased, and he frowned in uncertainty of what had triggered it.

    He was just stressed from his breakup. Stressed and lonely.

    That''s all it was.

    He picked up his phone and went about deleting all his notes, messages, and call history. He then deleted any evidence of his creeping on Kieran from his laptop.

 Swords

    Jack slowly approached the small storefront nestled between a pair of vintage clothing shops, dragging his feet. He kicked at a small pile of leaves gathering beneath one of the maple trees lining the sidewalk. It would have made for a romantic walk.

    He stared forlornly at the neon sign in the shape of a palm with an eye in its center. That was new. A cinderblock held the door open, and a sign sat in the window, advertising a $20 small tarot spread. "Fortune, wellbeing, and advice," promised the purposefully worn down wooden sign that swayed in the light breeze.

    One deep breath to quell the anxiety, and he stepped inside.

    He caught the soft ping as he crossed the threshold into the darkened entryway. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low light provided by electric candles lining the shelves. He could make out a pair of empty spots, just the right size for a pair of ugly fairy figurines.

    And a reminder of his obligation of attending a party in a few days.

    "Come in."

    Candace''s voice floated out from behind a set of heavy curtains, and Jack slowly let out the breath he''d been holding. He slunk over and pushed aside a velvet curtain.

    Candace sat in a comfortable wingback chair behind a small circular table covered with layered squares of fabrics. A single, fat candle burned brightly in its center. More dark fabrics hung from the walls along with posters of tarot cards and sigils.

    Letting the curtain fall back into place, Jack stood in awkward silence, eyeing the empty armchair sitting across from Candace. It had a ship and lighthouse embroidered on the fabric, and he was certain he''d seen it at the Bradley Estate sale. His initial thought was that Sam put his foot down against adding it to the nautical-themed kitchen, but a few strands of loose thread on a bottom corner told a different story. He wondered which beclawed hellion was the culprit.

    "Good day. Enter and be¡ª Oh!" Candace''s voice switched from mystical to cheerful. "Hey, Jack. Are you here for a lunchtime shopping extravaganza? Caterwaul is having a flash sale," she said, ending with an enticing note. She played with some of the tassels hanging from her dark blue shawl as she stared at Jack with a hopeful smile.

    "Maybe if they have a coat," he relented.

    "I think I remember seeing a nice peacoat in your size. And a size or two up."

    Big and warm. And probably expensive. "Tempting. But uh¡­ I''m here for a uh¡­ Advice. Reading. Small reading. Mostly advice. I broke up with Kieran. Or we''re on a break. I''m deciding." He turned his gaze to the floor, taking in the scuffed up wood and fraying rugs. "I dunno what to do."

    "Oh, no. Here, sit down," Candace said, waving to the empty chair. She picked up her stacked cards and began shuffling them. "Let''s start off with something small and generalized."

    Jack gripped the edge of the small table as he sat down and leaned forward. "And please don''t tell Sam I''m here," he begged in a low voice.

    "It''s tarot, not a drug deal," she said, laughing and shaking her head.

    "Close enough," he mumbled as he sat up. He watched as Candace set out the cards across the table and began to flip them. His eyes flicked up with each card, paying careful attention to Candace''s expression. A drawing of a handful of swords and a deeper frown.

    This was not going to be good.

    "Alright, so¡­" Candace grimaced as she turned over the final card, revealing another set of swords.

    Jack knew nothing about placement nor meaning, but he knew that swords were bad. And there were a decent amount sitting in front of Candace. "I''m gonna die, aren''t I?"

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "No¡­ But I really don''t like this. You''re almost always represented by the Nine of Swords for other people. I don''t like how it''s popping up in your own spread with the Eight of Swords." She looked up from the spread in worry. "Jack, what is going on?"

    "Stuff," he said dismissively. "I just¡­ need answers. About Kieran."

    Candace tapped her nails along the cards, nudging them. "If this spread had anything to do with him, I''d say leave town and change your name."

    "You''re joking, right?"

    "But I don''t think it''s him," she said without looking up, shaking her finger at Jack. "He usually shows up as Pentacles when I look into you. Mostly as the King of Pentacles. Both upright and reversed, but that''s something else we can talk about later."

    She looked up and caught Jack''s distraught stare. "Um¡­"

    "But you''re not sure."

    He was going to die, and Kieran was going to kill him. Or lock him up in the basement. Did Kieran even have a basement? Maybe the attic. Or a chicken coop on the roof. At least the food would be good.

    "Sorry." Candace shrugged and went back to poking at the cards with one hand and tugging on her hair with the other. "I guess I was just hopeful that you found someone nice. I don''t wanna ruin it for you. Especially if I''m wrong," she said quietly.

    "Believe me, he ruined it himself." Jack leaned back in his chair with a huff, crossing his arms tightly and glaring at the candle. "Y''know that secret? Pretty fucking big. Changes the whole relationship kinda big. Changes a lot of things kinda big."

    Candace gathered up her cards and began a new spread. She flipped each one over and nodded at the end. She looked up and gave Jack a reassuring smile.

    "It looks like you''re happier now that you know? And then there''s the Ace of Swords and the reversed Devil. Knowledge leads to control over your situation," she said, switching to her official psychic voice.

    "Maybe? It''s better than not knowing. I think." It was weird knowing that vampires and ghosts were real, and it finally made sense why Kieran pursued him. Initially, at least. He was still uncertain if Kieran was being honest about growing attached. He wanted to believe it.

    "There''s something else I''m forgetting, but it''s better that I know. I¡­ I know it''s better," he said as the creeping sensation of needing to remember something lingered about him. "And I guess since that knowledge is another of those stupid Sword cards, it''s not a good thing."

    He ran through his new mantra: mad at Kieran, security tapes, mind fuckery. There was something else, but at least it was getting easier for him to remember why he was pissed at Kieran. He should start keeping a notebook.

    He quickly disregarded the idea. Someone might find it.

    "Swords aren''t inherently bad," Candace said as she collected the cards. "There''s a lot of intelligence and ambition, which can be used for good or selfish reasons, which can lead to conflict and manipulation. Here, let''s look at recent interactions."

    Her frown grew deeper with each flip of a card. "God fucking¡ª Excuse me. Sorry."

    Jack leaned his elbows on the table and stared miserably at the spread. "Just tell me."

    "You''ve been given false hope by someone close to you," she muttered mulishly. Her shoulders hunched in guilt as she pulled a chunk of her hair forward and began chewing on the ends.

    "You gotta be shitting me."

    "It could be something as small as me mentioning the flash sale. They could be out of that coat," she hurried to say. "Or¡­ or it could be me thinking that these readings don''t involve Kieran."

    She guiltily met Jack''s eyes. "Our guestroom is always available. You know that, right? If you ever need to avoid anywhere or anyone, then just come on over and hang out. You''re always welcome to hang out in the back room here, too. My internet''s not the fastest, but it works."

    "Yeah. Thanks." Jack folded his arms on the table and rested his chin atop them. "Sam offered the guestroom, too."

    "There ya'' go. Wanna come home with me tonight?"

    "Yeah. I''ll go look at that coat in the meantime." He stood and pulled his gaze away from the cards and his doomed future. He didn''t want to believe in fortune telling cards and stones, but ghosts and vampires were real.

    But it was still a stack of printed cardstock mass produced in some random factory halfway across the world. Candace had a deck with cats on it. Ouija boards were sold in toy stores.

    Candace wasn''t psychic; she was a therapist with a moon and stars paint job.

    "Oh, and uh¡­ There''s a speed trap on Herring from four to seven this week," he said as he watched her pick up her cards. Funny how her cards never told her what streets to avoid.

    Candace looked up and narrowed her eyes. "I knew he was coordinating with Harrison. We''ll take North Landing."

 Malware

    Jack lightly scratched at TC''s ears as the orange tabby happily chewed on his hoodie''s drawstring. He''d been doing his best to ignore the glare coming from on top of the cat tree.

    He glanced at the doorway before pulling up an image of a skeleton that was supposed to have been a vampire. It should be tempting enough to get Kieran to click on the link to the fake article Jack had set up.

    Would it be seen as an olive branch? He didn''t want to run the risk of Kieran seeing it as an excuse to pursue him again. Well, part of him did. But on his own terms.

    His heart pounded as he licked his lips. The last time he weaseled himself into someone''s computer was with Sam. He''d been lucky that he hadn''t been arrested the moment he''d been found out. Somehow, Sam''s patience with him had yet to run out.

    He sent off his email and waited a minute, gnawing away at his pinky''s cuticle. Blood hit his tongue, and he sucked at it for a moment before deciding it tasted normal.

    He examined his fingers, internally cringing at the self-inflicted damage of uneven nails, ragged cuticles, and ripped up hangnails. If Kieran wanted free blood, then he could have easily "kissed" Jack''s fingers better.

    But then his fingers would be in someone''s mouth, getting sucked on. Not the worst sensation, but certainly not his favorite.

    He leaned back and glanced up at Adhafera. She had the same judgmental stare Kieran would send to particularly annoying teenagers. At least, like the cat, Kieran kept silent about his opinions.

    He pulled up his email. No reply. Obviously, Kieran wasn''t as glued to his phone as Jack was.

    He closed his eyes and sighed. He shot off a text, giving in to his impatience.

    sent u email

    I shall read it in a moment. Might I prepare myself by asking if it is in regards to your decision?

    not decide just dumb

    A few minutes passed before Kieran replied. Jack buried his face into TC''s fur and breathed in deeply before reading it.

    I hope this levity is an indication of an improvement to your mood. To answer your question: No. That man was not one of ours.

    He could just imagine the judgy and terse tone spilling from Kieran''s lips. Those pretty lips that gave sweet kisses. And a little too interested in his neck.

    Judgy, creepy, thoughtful, pretty farmboy.

    He dropped his phone and stared up at the glaring black mass perched atop the cat tree, wishing the cat could give him a solid answer.

    Or he could make it Kieran''s decision. If his neck wasn''t up for grabs, then Mr. Stranger Danger Vampire most likely wouldn''t be interested anymore. And if he was, then¡­ Then Jack had his ideal boyfriend.

    But there was still the mind fuckery.

    "Why''s this gotta be so hard?" he asked the cat in his lap.

    TC tugged harder on the pull string.

    "Yeah. Go for it. Why not?"

    He grabbed his phone back up and called Kieran. A serious conversation didn''t deserve his texting habits.

    "Good evening, Jack," Kieran answered, his tone overly cautious.

    Jack. Not "my sweet" or "sweet thing." Then again, since it was a reference to his blood, he shouldn''t feel so attached to the pet name.

    "So¡­ We can try dating again," Jack said. He lightly pressed TC''s ears down as he held his breath.

    "I would like that," Kieran softly replied.

    "But uh¡­ No biting. That''s¡­ I''m off the table."

    Kieran''s slow and careful breathing could be heard over the line. "I see."

    "Yeah. I didn''t think you''d be interested anymore." Jack rubbed his elbow. That answered his question. He was truly single once more.

    "That''s not necessarily true. I do like you as a person." Kieran''s voice was full of sincerity. "There''s more to you than your blood."

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    "But you still want that, too," Jack insisted. Not as free and single as he thought.

    "I would be lying if I said I did not."

    He gently banged his head against the wall. Breaking up was hard. Negotiating staying together was hard.

    "I just wanna go on normal dates and not have to worry about being coerced with mind control shit," he said quietly, almost a whine.

    "I haven''t felt a need to do that for a while. I honestly thought I was helping. For some of it."

    "Honestly? Honesty would be helping! Fuck. I dunno. I''m lonely, and you''re familiar enough and available. I''m not¡­" Jack huffed and poked at TC''s paws. "Those aren''t good reasons to start dating again."

    "If it sways your opinion, I did enjoy my time with you," Kieran said. He breathed in deeply and slowly let the breath out a moment later. "Although, to distance you with the honesty you crave¡­ I know about your scars."

    Jack snatched his hand away from the cat as claws pricked his skin. His chest was tight, and he felt the need to vomit. "You¡­ I¡­ God fucking¡­ I don''t know how I feel about this."

    "I understand."

    "I gotta¡­ I don''t¡­" He didn''t know what to think. When did Kieran find out? Why did it never come up in conversation? Maybe it did, and he couldn''t remember. "I can''t talk to you right now."

    "Very well. I''ll wait to hear from you," Kieran said, his voice barely above a whisper.

    "Yeah, don''t hold your breath," Jack snapped before hanging up.

    When would Kieran have seen anything? Was it his back or arms? He''d only ever stripped down in Kieran''s bathroom.

    A bathroom with no lock on the door.

    Kieran had seen him in the shower. He should be more concerned about the revelation than he was. No, what bothered him was that Kieran felt the need to wipe the memory clean. Pristine, clean, and worry-free.

    He could see how Kieran thought he was helping. He wanted to stay mad, not empathize with Kieran''s poor decision making skills that were on par with his own.

    If Kieran was a walking, talking anti-anxiety med, then Jack would have been all about getting knocked out on his ass. If he''d known what he was getting into, and Kieran didn''t try anything weird, then he''d be scheduling nights to essentially get high via vampire. If it was anything like being drunk¡­

    He breathed in sharply, remembering the drunks Sam had mentioned. He also, regretfully, remembered asking to be hooked up. Apparently, he found a dealer. And it was right in his price range.

    Was it Kieran or some other vampire that spent the night out on the town? How many of those blood suckers were roaming about?

    how many vamps live here?

    Less than ten at present.

    Was that a lot? Did they all know each other? They had to.

    Or was Kieran lying?

    "Fuck!"

    TC scrambled off the bed and out the room, closely followed by a streak of black.

    The soft sound of footsteps came from the hallway, and Sam poked his head into the room. "You okay in there?"

    "No! He knows about¡­ He¡­" Jack raised his arms and dropped them. He bent over and gestured over his shoulder to his back. "He knows. He found out. He saw them."

    "How?" Sam leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms.

    "When I took a shower at his place that first night. When he grabbed my clothes from the bathroom."

    "Is that why you broke up?"

    Jack shook his head. "We''re taking a break."

    "Do you feel threatened enough to do something about it?" Sam asked patiently.

    "That''s not¡­ It''s not like you think. I swear it''s not. I-it''s complicated. Really weird and complicated. I''m part of the problem," Jack insisted. "Don''t¡­ Just trust me on this. I''m fine with the knowing. I just don''t like how I found out about the knowing. Or not knowing."

    He groaned in frustration. How was he supposed to beat around a vampire-shaped bush? "That doesn''t make any sense, but it''s¡­ Swords. Those fucking sword cards. They''re all fucked up even when they''re good. I wanna stay with him for all the wrong reasons. I found something out, and I''m so tempted to just¡­ I¡­ I dunno."

    "You''re not obligated to date everyone that shows interest in you. A relationship is a two way street. You both have to make the effort. And him creeping on you ain''t it," Sam said gently.

    "Like how I don''t creep on people? Besides, what do I do if it feels like he''s the one making all the effort?" Jack asked as he tugged on his sleeves.

    "I thought it was weird, and I was kinda right, and then it turns out he does like me for whatever reason. He''s like, ''yeah, I liked you because of this reason at first, but now I like you for all the reasons,'' and I''m just here being all ¡­ me. Creepin'' on his hot farmboy ass with malware."

    He glanced up and away from Sam''s neutral stare. "I haven''t checked if I''m in his computer or phone yet. I figured I''d check his search history for weird stuff then go from there."

    Sam sighed and stared at the ceiling for a moment before speaking. "Look, you are likable. You''re like my mom''s neurotic dog. Good looking dog, smart, but annoying as all get out and kind of a self-destructive idiot who gets into things she shouldn''t. And then you start missing her quirks when she''s not there."

    "So I am annoying."

    "Like everyone, you have your moments. Even Candy has her moments."

    "Careful, she''ll hear you," Jack said, trying to smile.

    "She knows," Sam said with a careless shrug. "I don''t bring reports to bed, and she doesn''t bring any cards."

    "That whole two way street thing." It made sense to Jack, but how could he compromise with a vampire?

    Sam scratched at his stubble. "She moved to the floor, and I sit on the dresser."

    Jack stared incredulously.

    "It''s only bad if we fall asleep."

    "Right¡­"

    Someone was missing the point, and Jack wasn''t sure which of them it was.

 Reminders

    Litter box duty may have been avoided, but Jack could have done without waking up to the full weight of Candace''s cat sitting on his bladder.

    The black demon known as Adhafera complained loudly as Jack rolled out of the bed. He tossed the blanket over her, and she vigorously attacked the walls of her new tomb.

    As he made his way to the bathroom, he caught a whiff of bacon and felt the full force of his conflicting emotions. Was he going to end up being one of those people who were reminded of their ex over the stupidest things? He had enough issues already; he didn''t need Kieran''s lack of presence in his life hitting him over the head every time he walked down the cereal aisle.

    He stood in front of the bathroom door and glared down the hallway towards the kitchen. Maybe mooching off someone else''s bacon would help fade the memory of Kieran cooking breakfast for him.

    It would cost him the luxury of going back to bed, but he''d be up, fed, and able to grab a free ride to his neighborhood. He''d have more than enough time to do a hardcore dive into Kieran''s past.

    He wasn''t looking forward to digging through a ton of census records, trying to find out if Kieran kept playing his own grandson every few decades. Maybe vampires coordinated with each other.

    Whatever the case, he deserved a caffeinated treat.

    ---

    It wasn''t until Jack stepped into the internet caf¨¦ that he recalled the first time he met Kieran. He stood in the entry and stared at the table nestled in the corner.

    The first time he met Kieran. The first time he tried to flee. The first time Kieran tried to enthrall Jack.

    He should turn around and leave. There was another coffee shop two blocks over; it wouldn''t be too far out of his way. If only no one had looked up when he entered, then he could have escaped unnoticed. He hunched his shoulders and got in line.

    He needed to make a list of places he should avoid. It wouldn''t be long, just annoying. No more Rick''s Electronics. No more internet caf¨¦ after his morning fix. At least Kieran hadn''t joined him inside the library.

    Jack yawned into his sleeve as he stepped up to the counter.

    "Wow! You''re here early," Missy greeted.

    He kept his sleeve over his mouth as he met Missy''s eyes. "I could say the same for you," he shot back. His chest tightened in the brief moment before Missy''s smile brightened.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    "John''s out sick," she replied. "With a post-concert hangover, but management doesn''t need to know that."

    Was he supposed to know who John was? Or even care?

    "That sucks. For you. Him. Both. I''m just grabbing a drink on the way to the library," he said. He was aiming for casual, but Missy''s smile led him to believe he failed.

    "We''ve got a cookies ''n'' cream mocha on special."

    "Uh¡­ Maybe just a regular white mocha?"

    Missy leaned over the counter and lowered her voice. "That''s what it is. With cookie crumbles on top. Boss bought a box and dropped it. Wrote it off as a store purchase."

    "Oh. Okay. That works." Jack wondered what sort of write off existed for a blood soaked rug. Blood from a guy he killed.

    He was a murderer. Someone was going to find out. He should have told Sam the moment he remembered instead of going to Kieran.

    "You doin'' okay?" Missy asked, disturbing Jack''s spiral. "You seem off."

    Jack stared at the counter between them as he fumbled for his wallet. Of course Missy would notice something was up with him. He couldn''t tell her the truth, but he couldn''t bring himself to lie, either.

    "I met a guy, and I''m at a fork in the road," he said. He pulled out his debit card, but couldn''t remember if he''d transferred funds recently. He frowned as he tucked the card back and settled on paying in cash.

    "Bad habits? Secret lover?"

    "Not exactly. Weird stuff. Not bad, just more of a ¡­ okay then. Y''know? My whole world view is different, and I just feel like I need to know more," Jack said. Did blood sucking count as a bad habit?

    "Well, if he has any siblings that you know of, you can try them," Missy said as she finished ringing up Jack''s order. "Janet''s brother gave me a less than stellar review on her when I met him. But that gave me prior warning that she never learned how to clean. And drinks milk straight from the carton," she says, finishing with a tight smile.

    "A sibling." Jack sighed as he stepped aside for the next customer. "That''s not gonna¡­ Wait. That might work. Thanks!"

    "Glad to help!"

    ---

    Large gates blocked the driveway leading up to a pristinely kept French country-style house.

    Jack hoped the offer to call extended to visiting. Calling first would have been a good idea, but had he ever been inclined to act on those? If he had thought about it, he would still be huddled in a corner, too freaked out to even pick up his phone. He pressed the call button next to the gate and waited.

    He looked back at the street. It wasn''t too late to change his mind. But if someone was watching from their window, then it could look like he was casing the place. Had someone already called the cops on him? Did he look suspicious enough for that?

    The speaker crackled to life, and Jack flinched away.

    "The little flame. Have you come to ask for a stake?" Benoit asked in amusement.

    Jack glanced up at the camera staring down at him and shifted. "Er, no. Thank you. I wanted to ask some questions." And she had just answered one.

    "Do come in."

    "Said the spider to the fly," he said under his breath as the gates buzzed loudly and slowly opened.

 The Tea

    Jack had been led to a cozy living room and now sat in a comfy armchair next to a fireplace and a side table with a candelabra. Although, given the abundance of books and lack of television, it might have fallen under the category of drawing room or parlor. The fact that an actual servant had shown him the way led him to believe the room deserved a classy name.

    Jack watched in anxious silence as another servant brought in a tray and set about serving tea. Did the people working for Benoit know about her? Were they vampires as well? Were they enthralled and working for her against their will? What made him so special that it didn''t seem to work well on him?

    "That will be all, Hilda. Please see that we are not disturbed," said Benoit, smiling as she took the other chair beside the fireplace. She lifted her teacup and breathed in. "They don''t train them like they used to. I''ve found treating your employees with respect and proper compensation will earn you fierce loyalty that lasts for many years."

    "That''s ¡­ nice?"

    "What is it you would like to discuss?"

    Jack stared at the tea set sitting on the low table between them. "I¡­ I know. About Kieran. And, I guess, you," he said, quickly glancing up and away. Her raised brows and wide eyes had Jack thinking that Benoit thought she was being subtle.

    "He confessed? Surprising!" Benoit''s smile was pleased as she leaned forward.

    Jack floundered for a moment, lost in his own shock. "Er, I found out."

    She sighed and shook her head, dropping her smile. "Less surprising. May I ask how?"

    "Probably in the worst way possible. Other than waking up with teeth in my neck, so a step above that? Even though that almost happened, so¡­ Yeah." He coughed and picked up his teacup and ran his finger along its rim. "He, uh, got shot a couple times."

    "Serves him right."

    "No lie there," he muttered. "So, uh¡­ That''s part of why I''m here. You don''t like Kieran. Why? Are you guys related or something? Sibling rivalry?"

    "Related in that we share the same sire. My distaste for him lies in the fact that he hurt my darling Augustin." She sipped her tea before continuing in response to Jack''s blank stare. "I have no children of my own, but I''d like to think of Augustin as mine."

    "Oh." Jack tapped what remained of his nails against porcelain. "Hurt like ¡­ bad breakup? Or hurt like lies and stuff? Physical stuff? Other, uh, stuff? That I''m not sure if he was lying about, now that I think about it."

    "He broke my Augustin''s heart."

    "Um¡­ Okay." So Kieran was a love ''em and leave ''em type.

    Benoit sighed and set her cup down. "He''s not evil, but I question his motives and judgment. Morals are hard enough for men as it is. Throw in an eternity of boredom and they fray even more," she said with a graceful wave of her fingers.

    "Yeah¡­" Now that his mind had gone there, Jack was hung up on Kieran''s honesty about his so-called blood flow issue. He braced himself for a small round of awkwardness. "Uh, this is gonna sound weird, but he left me under the impression that vampires can''t, uh, get it up. Or something."

    Benoit blinked several times before her shoulders began to shake, and laughter overtook her. She leaned over the side of her chair as she gasped for air between fits of laughter.

    Jack hunched his shoulders and sank further into the chair. He could always push over the candles sitting next to him and use it as a means of escape. Maybe toss a couple books into the fire. Although, Benoit would probably survive and come after him. Or she would haunt him just to help him relive every poorly thought out sentence that left his mouth.

    Benoit waved her hands at her face as she sat back up, blinking at the ceiling. "Oh, my. You are an absolute treat! Yes, yes. Blood flow can be tricky at times. We can''t produce our own; we can only convert. I''m certain he could perform after a decent meal."

    "Good to know," Jack said through gritted teeth. He stared at the golden liquid in his teacup, doing his best to believe that his face was so warm due to his proximity to the fireplace. Where was a natural disaster when he needed it?

    "Oh? Not excited about the prospect?" Her eyes narrowed. "I see. Please forgive my teasing."

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Jack''s head shot up at Benoit''s somber tone. His thoughts went straight to the women''s shelter she helped finance. "What? No! I''m not traumatized or anything." He wilted under her raised brow. "Okay, I am. But not with sex. At least, I don''t think I am¡­" He didn''t feel lost or confused, so he hoped he was right. "No, I''m just ¡­ not into sex?"

    He was going to have to be one of those weirdos who wore buttons. The rainbow earrings were bad enough, but those were a gift. He was obligated to wear those. But if he did get a button, then he would have to explain the damn thing, and explaining his sexuality to complete strangers didn''t align with his idea of a fun time.

    "Ah, one of those," Benoit said with a slow nod. "Lovers of the mind rather than the body."

    "Uh, sure. Why not?" He needed to get off the subject of himself and lack of libido.

    "So¡­"

    "I cannot make up your mind for you, dear flame."

    Jack was at the point where he wished someone would make a decision for him. Or at least give him a black and white answer. "You keep calling me that. Kieran said I smell good. Do I look different, too?"

    "No. Only your scent differentiates you. You have no choice but to stand out and call to us. Much like a beacon in the dark."

    "Or a ¡­ siren?"

    "Beware the rocky shore. Yes. His name for you?"

    "Yeah. A, uh¡­ Well, his sweet siren." That annoying pang of wanting was back.

    "Disgustingly romantic and prophetic of his own demise. Slap him if it bothers you. He may yet be trainable."

    "Right. Um¡­ Thanks?" Was she giving him permission to date Kieran? It sounded like it.

    "He''ll treat you right while he''s interested. He, at least, abides by the rules."

    "And that includes mind fucking?"

    "Nudging, yes."

    "Nudging. Right." When Kieran''s brand of nudging didn''t work, he switched to another form of nudging. But how invested was Kieran? "So I should be prepared for it to end whenever?" Jack chewed on a hangnail. "I think I can handle that."

    Benoit ran her eyes over Jack, deep in thought. "To forcefully enthrall beyond relaxation can be cause for punishment," she said, her tone light and conversational. "If you believe he''s crossed a boundary, you need only let me know, and I''ll take care of it."

    Jack gulped down his tea and shook his head. "I can''t remember much, but I think I''m kinda-sorta immune-ish? I freak out."

    "Then he''s not pushing hard enough. You wouldn''t be able to free yourself, even with your anxiety to help fight it."

    "Don''t sound so disappointed," he muttered into his cup. He winced as Benoit''s smile widened, her eyes glittering in the firelight.

    They fell into silence, and Jack stared into his empty cup. Had Kieran forcefully enthralled him that night with the gunman? If he concentrated on it, he could make out his concern for Kieran and Lindsey and how he wanted everything to go back to normal. Kieran had just offered him an easy way out. And he gladly took it then broke it.

    No, not his fault. Kieran should have just held his hand, changed shirts, and called the cops. And then Jack would have had to lie to the cops and Sam. Slicing a guy''s throat, even inadvertently, would be on his mind constantly instead of when he was actively thinking about that night.

    He sighed heavily and set his teacup back on the tray, shaking his head when Benoit offered more tea. "I think I''d be happier not remembering, but I like knowing. I just wish I could not think about it. That¡­ I killed a guy. With a knife. He shot Kieran, and then¡­ Knife. Dead. People bleed a lot, and it''s kinda gross. Really gross. I don''t wanna die."

    Benoit looked away and nodded slowly. "Death is never simple, and killing is much too easy," she said quietly.

    "Not knowing and not remembering''s easier, and I went and fucked it up," Jack said, his panic pushing the words out. "I thought I was helping. By being nosy. And he did that, too, and that just makes it more confusing, and I don''t know what to think. I kinda did a standard background check on you, too. When you yelled at Kieran. I thought you guys might be fences or something. Montana''s a weird choice. I want a reset button."

    "Unfortunately, doing something so drastic would only push you further into madness." Benoit stared at the fire, lost in thought. She turned her attention back to Jack with a soft smile. "I must admit my curiosity. How did O''Byrne react to the gunmoney crown?" she asked.

    Jack blinked a few times before meeting Benoit''s gaze. The coin was stupid and only slightly embarrassing. The corner of his mouth came up as grateful relief unwound the churning in his stomach. "I made it sound like Ireland is just about clovers or shamrocks or whatever. You were kinda right. No tears, just kinda sad, but not sad-sad. Uh¡­ Missing people you like kinda sad? So, uh¡­ I guess no tears makes him a soulless bastard?"

    "Oh, he''s not a true bastard. He has a pedigree. He''s rather proud of it, too," she said, rolling her eyes.

    "I don''t understand?"

    "He never changes his name. Humans are willfully ignorant, so he''s gotten away with it."

    "Or he''s sentimental." Either way, Jack knew exactly what his new search parameters were going to entail.

    Benoit shook her head and let out a soft, disgusted sound. "Willfully ignorant."

    Jack pressed his lips into a thin line and looked away with a huff. He was coming to the conclusion that all vampires were charming assholes. It had to be part of the initiation.

 Pop Goes the Taser

    Even though the bus stop was under a mile away from Benoit''s neighborhood, she had insisted on calling Jack a cab. He should have been more suspicious of her small smile as he tried to talk his way out of it and shuffled out the door.

    The cab had been waiting for him, and there was no shaking the stuffy butler that prepaid for his ride. At least he didn''t have to worry about what was expected for a tip, and, considering the stack of bills that exchanged hands, it wouldn''t be a good example of what was the norm.

    The cab ride to the library was spent in awkward silence. He barely managed to resist covering his face with his sleeves or rolling down the window to escape the heavy scent of patchouli. Only the thought of drawing attention to himself kept his hands busy with opening and closing the same app on his phone.

    He felt queasy as thoughts of what the cabbie must be thinking ran through his head. He hoped he didn''t come off as some sort of prostitute or deranged relative. Telling himself that the cabbie didn''t care, wouldn''t remember him, and had most likely seen worse and weirder did nothing to ease his fears.

    He clutched his phone tighter when the library came into view and the cab slowed. He quietly thanked the cabbie for the ride and did his best not to outright flee. Finally in fresh air, he couldn''t tell if his rising need to vomit was from the car ride or his impending decision. He meandered around the library property as his stomach calmed.

    Settling against a tree beside a fading garden, he glared up the road in the direction of Kieran''s shop.

    He couldn''t recall a time when he''d been so messed up over a guy. How much of it was him missing Kieran, and how much of it was Kieran''s influence? If Benoit was to be trusted, then he actually missed the guy. If only that made him feel better.

    Did he even like Kieran beyond his own selfish shallowness? Kieran was nice to look at and listen to. He had money and could cook breakfast. What else?

    Kieran held Jack and distracted him until he fell asleep. Cleaned Jack''s clothes when he didn''t have to. Gave real explanations for why Jack shouldn''t worry or panic.

    Small, thoughtful things that Jack found sweet and charming. And weird and awkward because he wasn''t used to it.

    Everyone was right. His situation wasn''t as bad as he wanted it to be. He wanted a quick and easy excuse to cut ties and feel no regret. He didn''t want to feel like he was giving up. Kieran being a vampire didn''t strike him as a deal breaker, which only made him more confused.

    He could even get past the mind fuckery. He figured it evened out with him doing his best to spy and pry, which he had no intention of stopping now that he had more of a past to dig through.

    If he concentrated and didn''t get distracted, he could recall bits and pieces of that conversation from his first night at Kieran''s apartment. He wanted to hang onto his anger, but he only ended up getting mad at himself for doing the same thing on a technological front. Spying, lying, eavesdropping¡­ They were two peas in a pod.

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    And then there was the question of just how old Kieran was. If Benoit''s coin was any indication, Kieran was somewhere over three hundred. Did a large age gap count if he was an adult dating an immortal? Would he be dumped when he got his first grey hair? Or would Kieran want to keep his delicious snack house around and turn Jack into a vampire? Wouldn''t that change his blood and make it all pointless?

    Blood.

    Everything was about blood. He''d been lucky that he hadn''t gotten any blood on his hands when he''d slit the gunman''s throat. He couldn''t remember if any had splattered on him, and he should be thankful for that. He never noticed any suspicious stains on his clothes, but he wouldn''t put it past Kieran to scrub them clean along with his memory.

    Why did he have to remember slitting a guy''s throat? The slight look of panic and surprise. The gurgling death rattle. Blood on the floor. Blood on his shoes.

    Blood on Kieran''s neck and front.

    Incorporeal blood on Lindsey.

    He shuddered and pushed off the tree. He needed to get his mind off Lindsey and what could have happened to her. His morbid curiosity was already coming up with potential dates and newspapers to peruse.

    His state of mind reached the point where the library looked inviting, and he made his way inside. He sent a half-hearted wave to the head librarian, ducking his head to avoid her welcoming smile. He gave the patrons in the immediate area a quick once over; a couple regulars and a biker were poking through the new releases. They probably didn''t know or even care that vampires and ghosts were real.

    He headed to the stacks, taking solace that it looked like it was going to be a slow and quiet day. He didn''t think he''d be able to deal with any excitement on top of his conflicting feelings. He was determined to start looking at the positives of his situation. Focussing on the pros should make him feel better. Or worse.

    Jack sank into his chair with a sigh, taking comfort in the familiarity of his isolated corner. Strangely enough, things were working out. He had a potential boyfriend on the back burner who wasn''t interested sex. Oh, no. Kieran wanted his blood. And how messed up was it that Jack was considering it?

    It would make a pretty easy birthday or Christmas present. He could slap a bow on his neck and call it a day. Drizzle his neck with honey or something. What went with blood? Margarita salt?

    Why the hell was he even contemplating offering up his neck as a present? Kieran hadn''t earned any sort of reward with his behavior.

    If anything, Kieran earned the right to be the recipient of Jack''s spite. He''d make Kieran sweat it out for at least a week or two. Maybe he''d make a couple trips to Rick''s Electronics. Possibly after a wardrobe upgrade.

    He was not being petty. He was doing Candace a favor. She''d been trying to clean him up for years, and her renewed persistence happened to coincide with his need to make a good impression.

    Jack leaned down and opened his laptop bag, only to freeze as a shadow fell over him. He swallowed and blinked at the pair of black Vans that came into view. Not the local schizophrenic. Did the library have a new hire?

    Something in his gut told him to scramble under the table and run.

    He struggled for breath as he slowly sat up, wrapping his fingers around his taser. Before he could sit up fully, a hand clamped over his mouth as an arm wrapped around him from behind. He screamed against the hand and struggled as he recognized the beautiful features of Michael Farragut.

    "Hey, Sparky. I hear you didn''t wait for me."

    He was certain he''d jabbed his taser into the arm that held him. He heard the electric popping before an oppressive fog clouded his mind.

 Buckets o Fun

    Something wasn''t right.

    Jack''s mattress was firmer than normal, and his sheets smelled fresh from the package. He couldn''t remember the last time he bought sheets and didn''t rely on hand-me-downs from Tara updating her d¨¦cor.

    Groggily, he pushed himself upright and frowned at the unfamiliar bedding beneath him. Little dinosaurs grinned up at him. He raised his eyes to the bare concrete wall in front of him. This did not bode well.

    The sound of fabric shifting came from the other side of the small room, and Jack slowly breathed in before confirming his fears. In the opposite corner, Farragut sat on an old metal folding chair, scrolling through Jack''s phone. He looked amazing for someone who''d been stabbed to death.

    He looked just like Jack remembered him, including the jeans and short sleeved button down. Farragut was clean-cut with just enough of a rough edge to pique Jack''s curiosity and interest. It was an unwelcome reminder that Jack liked eye candy that came with too many red flags to count.

    "Finally awake," said Farragut, not bothering to look up. "Good. You wanna tell me why you delete your texts?"

    Jack''s arms locked up, and his breath caught in his throat. If he concentrated, he could remember the feeling of fingers lightly stroking his hair and an amused voice coaxing him to follow. He swallowed down his fear and sat back on his heels as he faced Farragut with a look of confusion.

    "People might read them," he replied. For once, he felt justified in his delusional paranoia.

    Farragut eyed him for a minute before turning his attention back to the phone. "Uh-huh. Who''s your new boyfriend?"

    "W-we broke up," Jack said quietly, looking away and fidgeting with his sleeves. He''d never been more grateful to be able to tell the truth. "He wanted ¡­ stuff."

    Farragut rolled his eyes with an exaggerated groan. "You seriously need to get over those hangups, Sparky. One good nut''ll fix you right up."

    "My hand works just fine." It was hazy and full of holes, but Jack could recall awkwardly explaining his lack of sex drive to Farragut. And Farragut''s delight over his offer of an open relationship. He never expected the realization of what was going through Farragut''s head to hurt so much. "And what do you care? You were never really into me. I don''t even think you''re gay."

    "Oh, I''m into you. Just not the way you''re thinking."

    Jack glared at his lap and wished he''d asked Kieran if there was any way to avoid being enthralled. Maybe if he just stayed focused and alert? Was that even possible?

    "Don''t be disappointed, babe. I came back for you. Just like I promised."

    He curled into the corner and hugged himself, wincing at the soreness coming from his left wrist. He tugged his sleeve up and found a freshly healing cut. He gasped when Farragut grabbed his face and forced him to look up.

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    "You know I don''t like it when you cut yourself, right?" Farragut said with exaggerated concern.

    That''s right¡­ Jack had a problem. Always looking for an escape, attention ¡­ something.

    "But that''s okay. I''ll always be here to kiss it better."

    He might have wanted attention, but not the sort Farragut was offering. "I don''t want¡­"

    "Yes, you do."

    He couldn''t lie, but he didn''t want to make Farragut upset. He didn''t want to make it worse. "I like kisses."

    "There ya'' go."

    Jack blinked and stared at the wall, barely aware as Farragut left the room, slamming the door behind him. What had he just been doing? His wrist hurt. He pulled back his sleeve and frowned at the cut. He''d cut himself¡­

    No. He might be fucked in the head, but he''d never tried to take his own life or cut into himself. Besides, the scars littering his arms weren''t like the parallel lines and thin scratches he''d seen on others.

    His short conversation with Farragut was nothing but a fog. His memories sharpened as he recalled meeting Farragut''s eyes and following from there. If he concentrated, he could remember. It wasn''t much, and it wasn''t exactly helpful after the fact, but at least he didn''t have to live with the lost time.

    At least, not while he was conscious. Without a window, he had no way of guessing how long he''d been out. Was it night? The next day? How long until someone noticed he was missing? How long did he have to wait for Tara to start hunting him down?

    He stood and silently crept up to the door. Holding his breath, he tried the handle.

    Locked. Of course.

    He sighed and took a closer look at what he hoped was a temporary prison. A single, bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling, its pull string just out of Jack''s reach. Stains and old anchors embedded in the walls marked where shelving used to be. An outlet sat a foot away from the door. If worse came to worst, he might be able to dig out a spring from the mattress and shove it in the outlet.

    The mattress in the corner had a fitted sheet and a light blue blanket. In the opposite corner, the folding chair that Farragut had been occupying sat beside a large plastic bucket that once held white paint. He had no hope of filling it up enough to cause trouble for whoever was responsible for cleaning it up.

    Maybe he could piss on the handle. But, knowing his luck, he''d be the one to take care of it. At least there was a lid.

    He resigned himself to hanging out on the mattress and wallowing in his self pity for a while. He tried to look on the bright side. He still had his clothes, but his shoes and random receipts had been confiscated. Farragut would find out that Jack was a loser with three books on African art checked out and an addiction to coffee and booze.

    He let his head fall back against the wall. Even if he wanted to stay sober and alert during his stay, he was going to miss the option to self-medicate. There was no way Farragut would let him get so much as a sip.

    He breathed in sharply.

    No alcohol because it made his blood taste sour. Hazy, mixed-up memories¡­

    Farragut was a vampire.

    His chest tightened as the thought wavered and shifted.

    "No! He''s a god damned blood sucker. It''s his fault I''m so fucked up," he mumbled, clutching at his head. "He''s the one that cut me. I never did it. It was never me. It''s all him. Window, footage, vampire. Alcohol, cutting, vampire. I''m not crazy, I''m just crack."

    He wrapped his arms around his legs and glared at a particularly happy stegosaurus.

    "I''m just vampire crack," he repeated against the fluid images of holding a blade in his hand.

    Would he have to live the rest of his life reminding himself that he wasn''t as crazy as he thought he was?

 Poltergeist

    Again, a lonely bed. The prospect of having a warm and loving body to curl around had been lost once more. Not for the first time, and most likely not for the last.

    Kieran would have preferred to stay in his empty bed all day and avoid opening up shop, but doing such would only degrade his mood further. He could easily imagine his youngest sister commanding him to stop wallowing over whatever pretty face had turned him down.

    Too eager, too giving, too persistent, too much.

    Too vampiric could now be added to the list.

    At least his light teasing has been well received.  Discovering Jack squirmed when he loosened up his hold on his accent was a delight, and he would gladly spout off more obnoxious phrases just to see how else Jack would react. If they saw each other again.

    He dragged himself out of bed and set about joining the land of the living for at least a few hours. His breath came as puffs of fog as he left his room and was greeted with his very own arctic blast. He thanked whatever hellish deity that had given him the foresight to ward his bedroom against opinionated spectors.

    Lindsey was being as much of a poltergeist as she could manage, wearing herself out just to be a vindictive menace. His cupboards were open with every last dish and spice strewn across his kitchen and living room. He paused to admire a pyramid of glasses before dismantling it. As much as the vandalism was a reminder of how he''d failed, it was a welcome distraction.

    The barest hint of a shadow lurked beside the television, radiating displeasure.

    Kieran finished cleaning up after Lindsey and got ready for a day filled with restless unknowing. He kept telling himself he made the right decision in coming clean with Jack. Earning back Jack''s trust would be a difficult task, and he wasn''t sure if he was up to it.

    Packing up and leaving behind any reminders of what could have been was always easier. But Jack''s tempting scent of coppery sweetness had him holding onto the hope that he still had a chance. Maybe not a chance at getting a taste of Jack''s blood, not anymore, but a chance at providing comfort and affection and receiving it in return.

    Perhaps Jack would prove clumsy and slip up with a knife, and Kieran would be right there to kiss it better. Just a nice little excuse for a taste followed up with sweet caresses and kisses.

    Lindsey made her presence unavoidable as Kieran made his way downstairs. Her form was sprawled out at the bottom of the steps, striking a morbid and impossible pose of broken and bloody limbs. She gurgled on her own blood, rolling her eyes and twitching as blood slowly seeped from her head wound.

    "I''ve seen worse," Kieran said as he stepped through her stomach. He breathed through the tingling numbness of his foot as he headed past her.

    "Of course you have. You own a mirror," Lindsey said with a petulant sneer, sitting up and frowning at her spilling intestines. She poked at them before fading into a shadow and following him.

    Kieran went about his routine of turning on lights and unlocking the door, ignoring the freezing shadow nipping at his heels. He settled behind the counter, prepared for what would most likely be a day full of inquisitive customers. He would much prefer to spend the day alone, running over his mistakes.

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    The bells on the door chimed, and Kieran seethed internally. Either he needed to replace the damned things or rip them out entirely. They were much too welcoming and cheerful for his current mood. He put on a well-practiced smile and faced his latest customer.

    He straightened his back and tilted his chin slightly up as Detective Fairchild swiftly approached him. It would seem Jack had reached his decision and deemed it necessary to send a mediary. His smile turned frosty, despite wanting to remain in Fairchild''s good graces.

    "Detective Fairchild," he greeted with a nod.

    "O''Byrne," Fairchild coldly returned.

    By some miracle, the detective got his name right.

    "I''ll cut right to the chase. When was the last time you saw Jack?"

    Dread gripped Kieran''s heart. He thought he had more time to hunt down Jack''s past tormentors. Apparently, he''d been sorely mistaken. "Sunday. I last spoke with him on Tuesday night," he hesitantly replied. "Detective¡­ Might I ask what this is in reference to?"

    "Would you mind if I searched the premises?" Fairchild asked, his calm demeanor barely masking seething rage.

    Kieran forced back the knee jerk reaction that he was being targeted for being Irish. Wrong place. Wrong time. Here and now, he was mostly seen as a charming oddity.

    "I would mind, but if it will set your mind at ease, then please," he said, gesturing to the back of the store. A soft chill brushed against his shoulders, and he resisted shrugging off Lindsey''s curiosity.

    "Anything I should be made aware of?" Fairchild looked from the storage room door to Kieran.

    Besides the bloody ghost?

    Kieran tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "If Jack has fallen victim to foul play, then I may be tempted to do something that will end in my arrest."

    "Right," Fairchild scoffed.

    "I am at fault for an error in communication, Detective Fairchild, not whatever you''re resistin'' accusin'' me of," Kieran ground out. He swallowed and looked away, breathing deeply.

    He needed to remain calm. This wasn''t the start of a pub brawl. He couldn''t help Jack from inside a police station.

    "Why should I believe anything you say?" Fairchild snapped, leaning over the counter, jabbing a finger at Kieran''s chest. "He''s been through enough without some lying asshole fucking with him."

    In that moment, Kieran saw himself in the detective, defending his sister''s honor and chasing off an undeserving suitor. And how he''d taken her words the wrong way on more than one occasion. To fight it would only paint him further in guilt.

    He could always send Detective Fairchild on his way with a dull memory of finding nothing. Which would be the same as letting him search the property. It would be a waste of time and energy, and another story to keep track of.

    "As I said: help yourself," he said in quiet acceptance.

    Kieran waited until he heard Fairchild head up the stairs in the back before dropping onto his chair and burying his head in his hands.

    Jack was missing. He could enthrall Fairchild and get as much information as he could, but it would be at the risk of pushing Jack further away if he were to find out. And Jack would find out, the clever siren.

    "Did something happen to you, or did you leave ''cause o'' me?" he murmured.

    Kieran startled at the soft sound of a business card dropping onto the counter. He warily met Fairchild''s eyes.

    "If you hear from him, or remember anything he might''ve said about going somewhere, call me."

    Kieran nodded as he collected himself. "O'' course," he replied. He clenched his jaw and looked away. "Of course," he repeated.

 Doing Lines

    Being locked in a room with no windows had a way of messing with Jack''s ability to keep track of time. Farragut popping in at random to grab a bite and wipe the offending memory clean wasn''t helping, either.

    Jack had been able to use the chair in the corner to reach the light''s pull string, but, after being plagued by several vivid nightmares of being sucked dry and awakening disoriented and terrified, he opted to keep the light on.

    A soft shuffling drifted through the door, and Jack breathed in deeply. Just how much blood could a person lose? Even if Farragut was treating him more like a lollipop than a soda, there had to be a limit.

    The door unlocked and Farragut entered the small room. He looked at where the chair sat under the light and smirked at Jack. "Scared of the dark, huh?"

    "Sure."

    "Whatever. Shirt off," he said, holding out his hand.

    Jack clutched at his sleeves and hunched further into himself. "What''s wrong with my shirt?"

    "C''mon, Sparky. Ain''t you hot? You don''t need to be shy around me," Farragut said as he dragged the chair over and sat backwards. "I''ve seen your scars. Helped patch you up a few times. Remember?"

    Jack bit back a retort that Farragut had caused them. He slowly nodded as memories of Farragut lovingly kissing his back and arms over fresh bandages came forward. Soft whispers, begging him to behave and stop cutting into himself.

    He closed his eyes and pulled off his shirt. Reluctantly, he handed it over. He did his best not to shake as he wrapped his arms around himself, put off by how solid the false memories were. Lurking just behind the images of Farragut''s sweet and concerned smiles were hungry and malicious grins, firmly replacing the old memories.

    He didn''t want to remember.

    Farragut reached over and lightly stroked Jack''s hair. "There. That''s better. I''m doing my best to keep you safe. See, my boss wants me to just kill you. But I said you''d be good this time around. You''re gonna behave, right?" he asked, his voice quiet and pleading.

    Jack nodded. He was beginning to doubt that Farragut ever worked for anyone else, relying on his acting skills and mind-fucking everyone around him to push the story that there was some mysterious ring leader in the background. But Jack didn''t believe the sob stories anymore, and Farragut''s mental hold wasn''t ironclad.

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    Even in the past, the brainwashing wasn''t enough. Bits of Jack and his need to escape still slipped through and managed to write a relatively harmless yet persistent virus to attach to his phishing emails and websites. He could do it again.

    "Unfortunately," Farragut said as he stood, pulling Jack away from his plans, "your old job doesn''t exist anymore. But, hey! Now, you get to lounge around all day. A nice little vacation without the worries of technology."

    Jack''s chest tightened as reality hit him. If he didn''t have access to a computer¡­ Maybe his phone? As if Farragut would let him. Thankfully, that would work in his favor. He was prepared this time.

    By now, Tara should have sent him at least one stamina pack. If he didn''t respond with a flower crown, then she would immediately be on guard. He found that out the hard way when she''d shown up at his apartment during a morning drinking spree. He never made that mistake again.

    Now, he waited until sunset to really get blitzed.

    "Can I get a deck of cards?" Jack asked.

    He flinched as the door slammed shut. He figured his phone had been tossed out, or Farragut had it somewhere off site. Either way, Tara would notice he didn''t log in and respond appropriately within their game. He hoped it would be enough to get more than just Sam looking for him.

    And that he''d look into tracking down a dead guy.

    Jack sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his knees. He was going to have to rely on someone finding him.

    He ran his eyes over his arms. They weren''t looking good. New cuts lined his skin where Farragut had gotten his fix. It brought a whole new meaning to "doing lines," and Jack wanted to laugh.

    He rested his head on his arms, grimacing at the feel of raised scars and scabs hitting his cheek. He hated being reminded of them. He hated people knowing about them and judging him for something out of his control. Even more out of his control than he''d originally thought.

    He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead against a long and ragged scab.

    Kieran knew about them. He knew about them and hadn''t said a word. Hadn''t behaved any differently.

    Except when Jack came out about being ace. No wonder Kieran had looked so confused. It wasn''t the confession he''d been expecting.

    Jack laughed bitterly as he raised his head to stare up at the ceiling. The damned bastard knew, but was waiting for Jack to come clean on his own. Stupid, thoughtful asshole.

    But that only brought up the thought that Kieran was patient and accepting because he wanted Jack''s blood. Did that count as one of Sam''s compromises? Or was Kieran just weaseling his way into Jack''s neck?

    Did it even matter anymore?

 Desperate Times...

    Kieran stood in Benoit''s foyer, taking in his surroundings under the watchful eye of the butler. He recognized a few trinkets lining the walls and shelving. A wooden crucifix with a familiar stain adorned the wall to his left. A golden chain with a pair of needle-like fangs hung from it like a trophy. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

    He turned his gaze to the butler, hoping his thoughts weren''t on display, and was met with a frown of disapproval. He wouldn''t be surprised if Benoit paraded the man around specifically to stare in judgment at guests she disliked. Somehow, she managed to keep people around, despite the fact she was headstrong with a flair for being pugnacious. That might have been part of her charm. It was one thing to witness her moods, but another to be on the receiving end.

    "I''ve no more advice for you, you wretch," Benoit said with a sneer as she came around the corner. Immaculately put together, the only thing lacking from her menacing aura was a matching Victorian gown.

    She probably still had the black and yellow one that gave the impression of an angry hornet stashed away, waiting for a special occasion.

    Kieran sighed and bit back a retort. He needed help, not a fight. His life was a running theme of keeping his thoughts to himself. When he did voice a differing opinion or stood up for himself, it rarely ended in his favor. He''d long since learned to back off and roll with the punches to get closer to what he wanted.

    It had worked a treat with Jack, much to his surprise. A lovely reward for giving up.

    "I am here about Jack, but not for advice," he said. He hoped Benoit''s list of contacts would be worth the visit.

    "Yes, yes. He came to speak with me about our delightful affliction. A bright spot in an otherwise dull day," she said, waving her butler off. She smiled innocently, and her tone turned saccharine. "I hope he returns. Perhaps I can introduce him to my poor Augustin. They can commiserate about you being an unfortunate blight upon this world."

    The cold reminder of his past lover gripped his lungs, and he swallowed. Where would his life be if he''d kept his mouth shut and kept playing along? Would he be as concerned with Jack''s well-being? Would he have even tried to pursue Jack? Seduce Jack as a gift for Augustin? He certainly wouldn''t have been as inclined to get attached if his loneliness had been buffered by Augustin''s presence.

    "He came to see you?" Kieran asked, shifting his attention from his past hurts to the fresher one of Jack placing more trust in Benoit. In Jack''s eyes, she must have been something of a neutral party.

    The thought did little to ease his pain.

    "Looking for a second opinion on you, yes," she replied. She ran her eyes over Kieran and looked away with a delicate sniff. "Be grateful. I was mostly neutral. Although, I must wonder what you''ve done now to scare him off. He seemed inclined to give you another chance."

    So he hadn''t ruined their relationship beyond repair. Hope bloomed warmly in Kieran''s chest, despite the dire reason for darkening Benoit''s doorstep. "He''s gone missing."

    "Avoiding you is not missing," she said with a dismissive roll of her eyes.

    "A detective with the police questioned me as to his whereabouts," Kieran said through gritted teeth.

    Benoit narrowed her eyes at Kieran and stepped forward, invading his space. "I let your claim on territory go," she hissed. "I let the fire within my territory go. They were terrible men and a malignant tumor within this community."

    Kieran stood his ground as he stared down at Benoit.

    "You have a worrisome knack for not getting caught, so I let it be. But if your little crusade¡ª"

    "A man broke into my shop, killed me, and made an attempt to take Jack," Kieran said quickly, bracing for the sharp impact of a hand. If Benoit wished to slap him for interrupting, then so be it. It wouldn''t be the first time, and he highly doubted it would be the last. He took a steadying breath as his eyes flicked from Benoit''s raised hand to her frown. She nodded for him to continue, and he licked his lips.

    "I''ve left no trail. That man was not sent in retaliation. He was solely after Jack. Somethin'' else is goin'' on, and I was in his way," he explained, subtly leaning away from Benoit.

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    Lowering her hand, Benoit turned from Kieran and shook her head in dismay. "I called a cab around two o''clock on Wednesday. He took it to the library¡ªthe Morris Bay branch. There is a chance he changed destinations during the ride, but I''m certain the poor dear didn''t know that was an option."

    The tightness in his chest unwound, and Kieran sighed. "Thank you. I''ll start there."

    "I''ll pursue my own inquiries. I fear I may have fallen behind on keeping track of others while being focused on you. I only hope this is an outlier," she said. She pursed her lips and faced Kieran. "Either way, I''ve a Swiss switchback you may be interested in. You can do the dirty work."

    Even when stating a fault of her own, it still came off as a criticism of Kieran. He wouldn''t be surprised if Benoit was his mother''s reincarnation. It would certainly explain why he put up with her needling.

    "I''ll call you when I know more," he said before letting himself out.

    ---

    "Drop dead gorgeous" was the description the librarian had given Kieran. A blue-eyed blond man somewhere in his twenties and a tall, balding man in his forties with tattoos stretching up his neck were the pair that accompanied Jack out of the library.

    "They didn''t look anything like his normal friends," the librarian slurred through her daze, only slightly slumped over in her office chair. "They didn''t¡­didn''t feel right. But he didn''t look put off by them. Nothing like how he gets when poor Freddy''s off his meds."

    "Do you have security cameras?" asked Kieran, lightly tapping his fingers along the desk between them. He glanced at the computer and hoped he wouldn''t have to track down a security guard as well. The less people he had to enthrall, the better his chances of earning Jack''s forgiveness. Although, rescuing his sweet siren might help keep the balance.

    "Most are for show," the librarian lamented. "The one by the main entrance works. That''s how they left."

    "I would love to see the footage from that day. It will help me locate my friend. I only wish to confirm whether or not these men are truly familiar to him. He''s been manipulated before, you see."

    "Yeah¡­ I remember the trial. Poor thing got sent to Hillsbrook right after. Probably the only reason he''s tolerant of Freddy and doesn''t give him judgmental looks," she said, her words becoming clipped as she frowned.

    Hillsbrook was the lunatic asylum on the outer edge of Portswain. He guessed he wasn''t supposed to know about Jack''s stay there. If it ever had the chance of being brought up, he would do his best to avoid calling it a lunatic asylum. He would need a refresher on current and acceptable terminology.

    Kieran focussed his attention back on the librarian and smiled as he leaned closer. "The footage. Do you have access to it?"

    "Let me just pull it up. He wasn''t here long." She pulled up the library''s monitoring system and skimmed along until she located the right day and time. "Here we are," she said, angling the monitor.

    They watched as Jack was led outside by a young man who had a firm arm around Jack''s shoulders, looking as pleased as anything. The tattooed man followed closely behind, carrying Jack''s laptop bag; he had a tired look about him with slow and heavy blinks to match his dragging feet.

    The librarian hummed as she slowly shook her head. She rewound the footage and paused it. "They look close. Maybe he has a new boyfriend? That poor kid deserves someone nice."

    "He''s hardly a child," Kieran muttered, his eyes glued to the man with an arm around Jack. He looked like one of the men that had been mentioned in the articles Kieran had come across as he tried to learn more about Jack.

    Michael Farragut, who was supposed to be in prison for being a lackey with too much blood on his hands. And hadn''t Jack mentioned a Michael as being his first encounter with being enthralled?

    "Younger''n me," said the librarian, squinting up at Kieran. "Younger''n my youngest. Don''t worry, kiddo. You''ll understand when you''re older." She reached over and patted Kieran''s hand.

    He already understood. Even when his youngest sister was on her deathbed, she was still his baby sister. Being frozen in time left him feeling uneasy when his thoughts lingered on it.

    "You''re absolutely right. I must be going now. Thank you for your help," he said as he stood. The librarian made to stand, but he held up his hand and motioned for her to stay. "I''m sure you''ve plenty of paperwork that needs to be seen to."

    "Always is," she mumbled with a tired sigh.

    "You should remain here and finish it."

    "Maybe order some more books?" she asked, a hopeful tinge to her voice.

    Kieran''s smile widened, and he nodded. "A lovely idea."

    "Jack sent an email the other day, requesting obscure vampire books," she said with a soft laugh. "He was fine with ILL, but I think I''ll get some in for the library. Just for him." She tacked away at her computer with a smile, humming to herself.

    Kieran quietly left the librarian to ride out her enthrallment in peace, his thoughts lingering on Jack''s request. He was stuck between apprehensive and amused. He chose to take it as a good sign.

    He prayed he would find Jack before Farragut could do any irreversible damage. A vampire who ran his thralls into the ground and toward an early grave was never good news for the rest of them.

    His only hope was that Farragut was as messy as he was arrogant.

 Teeth

    Something was in his wrist.

    Through the stifling cloud, Jack became aware of fingers pressing into his skin, manicured nails digging in. He kept his eyes on the floor. He could wait it out. Wait for the timer to go off. He didn''t want to see the not-right teeth. To think of Kieran with needle-like things protruding from his mouth.

    The chipper beep of a stopwatch echoed off the concrete walls, and Farragut drew back with a disappointed growl. He silenced the alarm and leaned back in to give Jack''s wrist one last swipe with his tongue.

    "Mmm¡­ Y''know, Sparky? If I was gay, I''d fuck you like this. Make you like it, too," he said lowly, running his thumb along the seeping blood. "Maybe I''ll grab you a hooker next time I''m out. Any preferences?"

    "I''m fine."

    "Yeah, waste of time and effort. Then again, I can grab two. One to prep, and one to fuck while she sucks you off. Bet you''d taste fucking great after," he said, leaning in close and breathing in deeply.

    Nausea settled in Jack''s throat. He didn''t want anyone''s mouth anywhere near his dick. Especially some poor random girl being forced into a fucked up threesome. "I''m fine. Really."

    "Slipping¡­ Sorry ''bout that," Farragut said as he gripped Jack''s chin. He smiled as he caught Jack''s eyes and spoke softly. "You know what''d be great? A blowjob. You want a blowjob. Now, what do you want?"

    Not a blowjob. Jack didn''t enjoy it the last time he tried. It was weird.

    But he had to answer the question. Not answering was always worse. What did he want? "I¡­ I wanna go home."

    "You are home," Farragut said slowly, his smile starting to drop. "Home is with me. Remember?"

    Jack swallowed and almost nodded. No, home was with his mom. His mom was dead. He didn''t have a home, but he didn''t dare argue. "I miss my mom."

    "God damned fucking tangents." Farragut sighed in frustration and cupped Jack''s face with both hands. "You don''t have a mom, Sparky. You''re happy here. You like it when I''m happy. And I''d be real happy if you got off."

    Jack swallowed as he quickly jumped to the easiest misinterpretation. Something he could actually deliver on. "You want me off the bed?"

    "I want you to lie back, take your pants off, grab your dick, and jerk yourself off. Got it?"

    Jack blinked slowly as he took stock of his body. There was no misinterpreting that command and the clear irritation behind it. Maybe he could have pulled it off ten years ago when he still thought something was wrong with him, but seeing Farragut''s pretty blue eyes only set him on edge now. "But I''m not in the mood."

    "You are now. You''re feeling really horny, babe." Farragut looked away briefly. He forced a smile and lightly stroked Jack''s hair. "You wanna put on a little show for me or something. ''Cuz you like me. You wanna impress me."

    "I''m sorry. I''m not¡­ I don''t feel horny." And no amount of any sort of persuasion would help. Maybe if Kieran read some poetry, but that would run the risk of sending Jack onto a fit of  giggles. He doubted Farragut would fetch Kieran just to recite Shakespeare.

    "Fuck! I can get you to do everything else, why won''t this work?" Farragut pushed away from Jack and stalked to the door and back. He clenched his fist as he glared down at Jack. "You fucking¡­ What is wrong with you?!"

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    Jack needed to make Farragut happy. But how could he do that if he was too broken? "I''m sorry. I''m not faking it. I don''t¡­ I know how to make brownies," he offered. "Would that help?"

    Jack watched in confusion as Farragut left in disgust. His mind slowly cleared, and he shook as he curled up in the corner, hugging his knees tightly as tears gathered and fell. Farragut wanted a better high, and Jack had no way of delivering. Not willingly, and he didn''t want to linger on thoughts of anything being forced on him.

    He snorted out a short laugh between sobs. If only everyone knew about vampires, then he could say he had proof that he wasn''t confused or faking his sexuality.

    It wasn''t much of a good side to his situation.

    ---

    Kieran tongued one of the tiny slits his fangs retracted into as he contemplated the naked corpse resting in a shallow pool of water and blood in the bathtub. As much as he would like to get a second-hand high, he resisted grabbing a taste of the deceased drug addict. He wrapped the corpse''s fingers around the bloody blade he held before letting it drop into the tub.

    So many names had initially led him in circles, never able to pin down who was in charge of whom. Now? Now he had a solid lead.

    Making the connection that Farragut was a fellow vampire made everything fall into place. No longer was there a mysterious ring leader. Kieran finally had a proper name to track down, and it came with plenty of conspirators and complications.

    He stood and removed his gloves as he moved into the living room. He pulled out his phone and called Benoit.

    She answered before the first ring finished.

    "I''m hoping you''ve followed a trail that leads to the same conclusion as mine," she said in annoyance.

    "I''m led to believe a Michael Farragut is one of us, and he has recently found his freedom," Kieran replied. He looked around the small and grimy apartment, not too different from Jack''s. This one, however, had a few more pieces of furniture and far less electronic detritus piled in the corners. He was certain he''d seen a cockroach as well.

    "Yes. His sire placed a price upon his head as of this morning."

    "For what reason?" he asked, suspicion seeping into his thoughts with how Benoit''s voice became prideful.

    "He has little control and has drained more than one of her favorite donors. Sarah is deeply regretful of her mistake. To the point of sweeping him under the rug as if he never existed," Benoit said, her tone turning livid. "We had a talk, and she felt it prudent to take some responsibility. Even if it is only to acknowledge him and disown him within the same breath. I cleaned up after Lorenzo, I don''t wish to do so for others."

    "An overfeeder," Kieran murmured. He headed to the door, carefully picking his way around bits of trash. "And now he has Jack."

    "Most likely. It''s not yet public, but he died in prison, and his body has gone missing. I''ve dropped a hint that they should question the coroner more closely."

    He paused as he pulled on a fresh glove. "Is that wise?" The sooner the police questioned the coroner, the sooner they''d be in the apartment he stood in. He had less time than he''d hoped for cleaning up any inconvenient memories the neighbors might have.

    "With young Mr. Elster''s testimony on file? They''ve seen a thrall being questioned before," she said, dismissing Kieran''s worries. "They''ll claim it''s drugs or trauma or some such."

    It wasn''t a particularly reassuring thought, but knowing that he could get away with shoddy enthrallment gave him more time to work. Unfortunately, it still left the issue of the police and their collective incompetency. "And you''re going to rely on the police to find Jack? To hunt down a vampire? To face a vampire whose sire wants his head?"

    "And you would prefer to have Jack turn up mostly unharmed? No sign of his kidnappers?" she shot back.

    "If it meant he would be unharmed? Yes," he said, unable to grasp why Benoit would leave such a task to humans, much less those associated with the police. "But I have no delusions he''ll come from this unscathed."

    Benoit sighed heavily. "Very well. Do what you must. The others are in agreement."

    Kieran closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. "So they might try to coax him once he''s free to roam again?"

    "It''s better we all know who and what he is," she replied. Her voice was calm and soothing as she spoke. "When all eyes are upon you, you''re more apt to be honest."

    "Me, specifically?"

    She quietly laughed. "I would love to say ''yes,'' but no. I may not like you, but I can trust you."

    It was quite possibly the nicest thing Benoit had ever said to Kieran.

    "Even if it''s to make a poor decision."

 A Stabbing Pain

    The door banged open, startling Jack. He cringed into his corner, keeping a wary eye on Farragut.

    "On your stomach," Farragut said, swiftly crossing the room.

    "I-I didn''t do anything," Jack insisted. He looked away and breathed shakily. There was no way Farragut could have found out about his arrangement with Tara.

    "You did something. Set some shit up. It''s gotta be you; there ain''t no other explanation. Ain''t no other reason Joey would off himself unless he was stuck," Farragut growled as he knelt beside Jack. "Boss-man ain''t happy about it," he whispered, his eyes roaming over Jack''s shaking form.

    Jack swallowed and stared at his knees. He let out a strangled groan as Farragut grabbed him by the hair on the nape of his neck and forced his head up.

    "Look at me."

    Jack tried to shake his head.

    "Look at me, or I''ll be paying a visit to that black bitch you call a friend."

    Jack trembled as he forced his eyes open and looked at Farragut. His fear drained, and he took his worry-free moment to admire Farragut''s beauty.

    So, so pretty. Shame about the attached personality.

    "Get on your stomach."

    Jack complied. He lay with his head on his arms, blinking lazily at the wall. The mattress reminded him of his own. Cheap. Not particularly comfortable. On the floor in a corner.

    He should get a bedframe. Kieran offered to get him one. They could go shopping. Find something nice, but not too nice. Maybe he should just get some cinder blocks and plywood.

    The mattress shifted with added weight, and he frowned as Farragut settled onto his lower back. His heart beat wildly in his chest as apprehension grew for what came next.

    A line of pressure ran from one shoulder to the other, quickly followed by sharp pain. He whimpered as a finger swiped along the fresh cut, pressing in.

    "This is what happens when you don''t behave, babe. You know I don''t like to hurt you," Farragut said, leaning down. "Here, I''ll kiss it better."

    Jack hated Farragut''s kisses. He blinked at the wall. He was still foggy, but he was completely aware of the tongue running along his back and the delighted moans bouncing off the concrete walls.

    If he tried, would he be able to buck Farragut off and escape?

    He licked his lips and slowly moved his arms. He blinked away the cloying fog, finding it to be like fighting sleep. He resisted shaking his head and slowly took a deep breath. With everything he had, he pushed up and rolled over.

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    Farragut yelped in surprise as he was thrown to the floor.

    Jack ran to the door and struggled to open it, panic seeping into his bones. He pulled open the door and rushed out.

    Bouncing off a large body, despair strangled all coherent thought.

    Hands grabbed him by his upper arms and pushed him back into the room. He landed heavily on the floor. Frozen in fear, he stared at the scuffed up work boots that blocked the doorway and his escape.

    He should have known better. He should have stayed put and endured his punishment. It was familiar, and he knew he''d get through it.

    Pulled up by his hair, he screamed and clawed frantically at the hand that held him. White hot pain seared into the meat of his shoulder.

    A strong arm wrapped around his chest, and lips pressed against the shell of his ear in a mockery of affection.

    "Baby, if you keep struggling, I''m gonna have to start cutting pieces off. Don''t need those pretty hands this time around, do you?" Farragut whispered.

    Jack panted as he desperately tried to remain still. His body spasmed, and he swallowed as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. "I''m sorry," he said hoarsely. "I''m sorry. It hurts. I didn''t mean to. I''m sorry, Michael. Please make it stop."

    "I''ll stop hurting you when you stop hurting me."

    "I didn''t mean to hurt you. I-I waited. I stayed put." It wasn''t like he had much of a choice.

    "You''ve been hanging out with that cop," Farragut said with a growl, shaking Jack. "Got yourself a real nice boyfriend, too. Doesn''t look like waiting to me, Sparky."

    "We broke up. He wanted more, and I didn''t. It wasn''t¡­ I couldn''t¡­couldn''t¡­" Jack trailed off, fighting against the remnants of Farragut''s thrall.

    "Couldn''t let him fuck you?"

    He nodded, latching onto the excuse.

    "You wanna apologize?"

    Jack swallowed and closed his eyes. He just had to last long enough to be found. He had to believe he would be found. Sam had to be close with how angry Farragut was.

    He could survive this.

    Jack nodded.

    "Get yourself off," Farragut whispered into Jack''s ear.

    Jack''s heart sank. "I can''t. Not like this. I''m sorry. I would. I would, I swear. I can''t. I''m sorry. Michael, please. I mean it. I''m sorry."

    "Don''t worry. We''re gonna try something else."

    "S-some¡ª"

    Fingers were in his mouth and out before he had the chance to process it. Farragut''s hand clamped over his mouth, and he was horribly aware of the small pill resting on his tongue. Terror settled in his gut.

    "Swallow."

    It took a bit, but he finally managed to swallow down the pill.

    "There we go. See? You did such a good job. I''m so proud of you," Farragut said as he moved into Jack''s line of sight. He gently petted Jack''s hair as he smiled.

    A small sliver of bliss fought against Jack''s overwhelming uncertainty and fear. His crippling fear won out.

    Farragut pulled Jack closer and swiped his tongue along the wound on Jack''s shoulder. He sharply pulled away with a sneer. He reached into his coat and took out a pair of butterfly bandages and tossed them onto Jack''s lap.

    "I''ll see you in an hour," he said as he stood and strode to the door. He pointed at the guard. "You. Make sure he doesn''t throw that shit up."

    Jack zoned back in and scrambled away from the looming man, clutching at his bleeding shoulder. He huddled on the mattress as he attempted to apply the butterfly bandages. He probably needed stitches.

 A Nice Trip

    Everything was amazing. Even the guard who had left after Jack tried to strike up a conversation was amazing and deserved a hug. Especially when he reopened the door and tossed a water bottle at Jack''s head. It was the thought that counted, not the aim. Besides, the smiling dinosaurs were good enough for a one-sided conversation. And they were so colorful, too, which made up for the lack of huggability.

    He rubbed at his forearms as he lightly  bounced around the small room, taking in all the interesting details as he hummed along to his quickening heartbeat. Why did he ever hate his arms? His arms felt great. The texture of raised skin along his scars left him a giddy mess.

    His fingers could feel things. The air, the sheets, the wall¡­ The concrete wall wasn''t as nice as the sheets, but it still had a rough smoothness to it that had Jack enjoying the feeling of his fingers and nails dancing across the cracks and subtle bumps.

    Jack was pulled away from his exploration of the wall, and he leaned into the arms holding him. He rubbed his face along the smooth fabric covering the chest he was being held against and moaned softly as he hugged back. The way his stubble caught on the fabric was worth not being able to shave. Was this why cats rubbed their faces on everything? He caressed the shirt with his lips.

    "Feeling better, Sparky?"

    Jack nodded. "This is so nice. I''m, like, so happy. I want all my friends happy like this!"

    "I bet." Farragut buried his nose in Jack''s hair and breathed in deeply. "You''re gonna taste so fucking good."

    Jack sighed happily as something cool and smooth slowly ran up and down his arm. If only they were out in public, he could sneak off and find someone even better to cuddle with. "Do you have any music? We should go dancing."

    "Thinking I''m gonna be too blissed out to dance, babe."

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    Jack hummed in disappointment as Farragut pulled away and gripped his arm. "I miss going out and dancing. Not worrying if the guy I met is gonna end up locking me up in his basement." He squirmed and whined in protest as pain pierced the crook of his elbow.

    "I don''t want you getting kidnapped, either. Gotta keep you safe and protected," Farragut said quietly, raising Jack''s arm. "Nice ''n'' safe, and all mine to keep to myself. No sharing, no rules, no¡­"

    Jack groaned and let his head drop back. He didn''t like the pain, but the tongue and sucking sensation were different and bordering on amazing. It was like a deep and heavy kiss just for his arm. He could do without the wetness, though.

    One hard push, and he was flat on the floor. He blinked at Farragut, hurt that he lost his cuddle buddy.

    Farragut stood leaning against the wall, coughing and spitting.

    Jack''s blood was slowly making its way down his arm to his wrist. Curiously, he lifted his wrist and took an experimental lick. Tasted like blood to him. He didn''t get the appeal.

    He pulled himself back onto the mattress to enjoy the feel of rolling across it. He hummed to himself, happily ignoring Farragut''s complaints. Apparently, drug induced highs didn''t spice up his blood right.

    He didn''t know what Farragut was talking about; he felt great. His blood felt great. His hair was a little greasy, but even that felt wonderful to run his fingers through.

    "Enjoy it while it lasts," Farragut hissed before storming out of the room.

    Jack giggled to himself as the slamming of the door echoed around him. Farragut didn''t know what he was missing out on. Going to a rave was now on his to-do list. If Farragut didn''t want to take him dancing, then maybe he could get Kieran to do so.

    Stuffy, judgy Kieran, surrounded by sweating bodies and disco lights. It would be worth the laugh, at the very least.

    Jack sighed as he sat up, turning his gaze to the toothy grin of a T-Rex. He should probably be worried. He was pretty sure coming down from a high left most people feeling like shit. But the world was so bright and happy and full of interesting textures and colors. Why worry about what the future might bring?

    Why worry about stupid vampires?

 A Good Lad

    The western edge of Portswain was home to the railyard and a variety of unimaginative square buildings that had changed purposes from stores to office spaces to pawn shops and back. Old signage sat behind banners advertising leases and loans. A small strip mall had been converted into an auto dealership with a smattering of well-used cars.

    With a disgusted sigh, Kieran looked over the area then let his gaze settle on the scraggly man beside him. "Which building?" he asked. He knew it was pointless to hope for something small for a quick and easy rescue, but he wouldn''t say no to a turn in luck.

    "Blue roof, three floors. Fifty bucks to watch the back door. Make sure no one comes sneaking in or out." The man frowned and patted his coat pocket. "He paid me fifty. I already spent it. On something¡­"

    Kieran gave the man a pitying glance. The man didn''t bother to question the implanted thought. It let him appreciate Jack''s cleverness at working his way past a thrall¡ªeven if it was mostly due to Jack''s paranoia and anxiety. Would Jack appreciate being told his mental illness was what kept him relatively protected? Most likely not.

    "That will be all, thank you. You can¡­go about your day," he said, waving the man off.

    The man nodded and shuffled toward a liquor store, muttering to himself along the way.

    Kieran walked along the street until he caught sight of the building with a faded blue roof. A sign detailing the cost per square foot stretched across boarded up windows on the first floor. Apparently, no one had felt the need to update the sign with a new bank representative, as the one who tragically perished in a fire was still listed.

    He continued past the building until he reached the corner and turned, hoping for an alley. A dead tree marked the outlet, and he stole a glance as he kept his casual pace.

    The tattooed man from the library footage stood by a metal door marked for receiving, swaying slightly as he stared ahead. A broken bench and a couple abandoned shopping carts were all that occupied the small parking lot the man was seemingly watching.

    Kieran continued to the end of the block, weighing his options.

    He could steal Farragut''s thrall, but the guard at the door looked to be so deeply under that it would prove highly difficult with no promise of worthy results. Storming the building would also be a less than stellar idea. With no clue as to how many more Farragut was working with, it would be near-suicide to attempt with how large the building was.

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    He pulled out his phone and stared at the dark screen. He needed advice, but he was far from thrilled at becoming more indebted to Benoit. He sighed heavily and called her.

    "Yes?"

    "I''ve found our rogue vampire," he said as he headed across the street. He eyed the tracks that led to the nearby railyard. A chain link fence topped with razor wire did little to prevent the growing collection of graffiti spanning a concrete wall on the opposite side of the tracks.

    "Dead already?" Benoit said in delighted surprise. "You work fast. We should hire you out."

    "Unfortunately, no. A thrall is standing guard, and the others I''ve tracked down have no knowledge of the interior."

    "A pity." She clicked her tongue several times. "Very well. We''ll call the police. They can take it from here."

    An incredulous wheeze escaped Kieran. "I''d rather not," he hissed. "You can''t tr¡ª"

    "They can be an effective distraction."

    Kieran breathed through the anger that Benoit''s calm voice and rationality elicited. "I can''t enthrall an entire squad of policemen," he said glumly.

    "Not on your own. Hilda and Beauregard can maintain a small group guarding an entrance without issue."

    "It is a large building," Kieran reluctantly admitted. "But without knowing where he''s keeping Jack¡­" He broke off with a sigh. "I don''t know what to do. This is a far cry from staking a claim on hunting grounds."

    "Question the thrall. That''s what you''ve been doing, non?"

    "This one is¡ª"

    "I don''t care how deep he is. I''ve seen you steal Lorenzo''s thralls out of spite," she snapped. "It was your favorite pastime before I put a stop to it, so don''t you dare say you can''t."

    Kieran stiffened and swallowed. He didn''t need reminding of how easily hurt he was. This time, at least, he would be lashing out on someone else''s behalf.

    "Now go get this one. Text me your location, or I''ll have Beau describe a dark haired Irishman instead of a blond miscreant."

    Kieran leaned against the chain link fence and glared down the street. A small clutch of vampires could easily hide nearby and dissuade any patrolling officers from remembering them. "Yes, ma''am."

    "There''s a good lad."

    Definitely his mother''s reincarnation.

 Rescue

    The world sucked.

    Everything was awful, and Jack wished he could go back to the drug-induced blissful serenity of the day before. If it was a new day. He had more than a few more cuts, so either Farragut was particularly peckish, or time was passing.

    His high had not only given him a reprieve, but it opened his mind to the fact that he let his anxiety control his life. Even before Farragut, he wasn''t into change or going to new places. He had hated moving to Portswain. Before Farragut, he could suck it up and deal with it. Fake his way through an oncoming attack to get some privacy. Now, there was the pervasive thought that something was out to get him.

    It was, and it got him despite his paranoid precautions.

    Farragut burst into the room, and Jack pressed himself as far into the corner as possible, wincing at the stings that raced across his back.

    "We''re leaving, Sparky."

    Farragut was more disheveled than Jack had ever seen him. Did the cops finally track him down? A spark of hope lit up his defiance. "I''m staying."

    "Now listen close, you little shit, you''re coming with me, and you''re gonna like it. I''m not losing the best smoothie I''ve ever tasted again," Farragut hissed as he grabbed the chair and threw it against the wall beside Jack. "Got it?"

    "I don''t¡ª"

    "You''re not getting a choice! You wanna keep your legs? I''ll gladly toss you in a backpack and lug you around. Or maybe you''d rather have a lobotomy. Get up."

    Jack shook as he stood. Aside from fleeting thoughts, he''d never been one to truly contemplate suicide. As Farragut grabbed the sides of his face and forced him to meet wild eyes, it was looking like a valid option.

    But would he ever get the chance?

    He sucked at every bit of saliva he could gather and spat at Farragut.

    "You little fucking¡­"

    Jack cried out as Farragut''s grip tightened, and he pulled away. The tip of a blade emerged from Farragut''s stomach, poking between the buttons of his shirt. Jack stumbled back, covering his mouth and swallowing as bile threatened to surface. He fell onto the mattress and banged against the upturned leg of the chair, his eyes caught on the protruding blade and streaming blood.

    Farragut hunched over, revealing Kieran.

    "You''ve broken too many of our rules," Kieran said, pushing the blade in another inch. His frown deepened as he briefly glanced down at the handle of the sword he held. "This is going to be a bit of a hassle when I remove your head."

    Farragut made an attempt to kick back at Kieran, but was neatly dodged. "Who the fuck are you?" he growled, making a swipe with his hand.

    Instead of answering, Kieran pulled the sword partway out then angled it higher, thrusting back in with a grunt. Farragut let out a strangled cry and sagged lifelessly to the floor between Kieran and Jack.

    "Detective Fairchild is on the east side of the building. The way is clear, my sweet. Just go down the hall and turn left."

    Jack swallowed thickly, unable to pull his eyes away from Farragut. How long did vampires stay dead? "I should probably stay put. Or keep a look out, s-so you can get away?"

    "That''s very brave of you, but no," Kieran said softly as he knelt in front of Jack. He slowly reached out and gently cupped Jack''s cheek. "You needn''t bear witness to this particular nightmare."

    "But I¡­ I need him dead. I need to see him stay dead," Jack begged, his eyes still glued to Farragut, looking for any sign of movement.

    "Stand in the hall. I''ll make this as quick as possible."

    "Not too quick, I hope," Jack petulantly bit out.

    Kieran smiled sadly and stood, holding out his hand to Jack. "I''m working with borrowed time, and your friend doesn''t know I''m here."

    Jack swallowed and nodded as he took Kieran''s hand. He stared at their hands for a moment before noticing his naked forearm. He quickly let go and wrapped his arms against his stomach. "He''ll be dead-dead?"

    "Decapitation and cremation usually does the trick." Kieran stepped back, keeping himself between Jack and Farragut.

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    "But¡­ I mean¡­ Don''t the cops need the body?" Jack finally pulled his eyes away and stared at the tuft of hair that curled at Kieran''s left temple.

    A soft crinkling came from the doorway, and Jack''s eyes darted over. He never thought he''d be relieved to see Benoit, much less be surrounded by vampires, but here he was.

    She even brought food. And a space heater. He made a soft, confused groan and looked from the large bag of potato chips to Benoit''s charming smile.

    "Unfortunately, some space heaters are rather finicky. My Harold almost burned the house down with one. They tip over, and¡­" Benoit sighed and shrugged. "There goes my Persian rug. A beautifully destructive end to a work of art. Come, dear flame, time is running out."

    "What¡­ Why¡­" None of this made sense. Was he being rescued, or had he been given some other drug? Had he been enthralled in some other way? The thought set his stomach on edge.

    "Jack. I''m starting."

    Kieran''s voice was a welcome warmth, and Jack had to believe it was real. He didn''t feel out of it. He cared about his surroundings and getting out. It had to be real. He needed it to be real.

    He let his head drop and softly padded out of the room and stood in the hallway. The door shut behind him, but he could still hear Kieran and Benoit moving around. He shook and clamped his hands over his ears just as he heard Benoit criticizing Kieran''s technique.

    He stared down the hallway. He should just go. Meet up with Sam and leave this hellish nightmare behind. Even if he got lost, someone would find him. He could find a quiet, well-lit corner and hunker down.

    He yelped when a hand touched his shoulder. He spun and raised his hands, ready to claw at his attacker. He softly gasped as his eyes landed on Kieran, and he tucked his arms back against his stomach. He could hear Benoit''s humming coming from within the room, and wished he''d kept his hands over his ears.

    "Do you still wish to see?"

    Jack dropped his eyes to the floor. After a long, deep breath, he nodded. He let Kieran guide him to the threshold and swallowed thickly before slowly tracking his eyes across the floor to a pair of familiar shoes. He glanced away repeatedly as he followed the line of Farragut''s body.

    His breath caught at the sight of the abrupt and bloody end of Farragut''s neck. The skin and flesh on the neck were a torn and mangled mess. Barely a foot away lay Farragut''s head, staring lifelessly ahead. There wasn''t as much blood as he thought there should be.

    He stepped back and flinched away when he ran into Kieran.

    "Will you be alright?" Kieran asked, his voice low and soothing.

    Jack shook his head and shrugged. He sagged against Kieran as he was pulled into a tight hug. He swallowed as his breath hitched, too aware of Kieran''s hands touching his skin.

    "You should go," said Kieran. "I can''t come with you, my sweet, but I will see you after."

    Jack nodded and reluctantly pulled away. He glanced over and watched for a moment as Benoit sprinkled the potato chips on and around Farragut''s body. She looked over and gave him a sad smile then returned to her work, still humming.

    He wrapped his arms around himself and made his way out of the room. He stood in the hallway as he gathered his wits and willed away the numbness and nausea creeping over him. The hall seemed too big and too small at the same time.

    He swallowed and looked up at Kieran. He just had to hold on until he found Sam. "What do I tell them?" he asked.

    "He came for you, you resisted, and he tripped as he pulled you along."

    It was a stupidly simple story. Who would believe it? "That''s kinda weak."

    "The less involved your story, the more believable," Kieran said as he lightly stroked Jack''s hair.

    Jack shied away from the touch. "Right. He tripped, I ran. Or¡­ Or you could just¡­pop it right in there," he said, motioning to his head.

    "You''ve been through enough of that."

    Benoit came out from behind Kieran, wearing a disgusted sneer. "And to have been subjected to enthrallment by such indelicate filth. It''s a wonder you''re not locked up, little flame."

    Too late for that. But her words did bring up a good point. "Like¡­like Renfield? In Dracula? That''s a thing? That''s why¡ª" Jack cut himself off, his breaths sharp and shallow.

    "Some stories have their basis in fact," Kieran replied. "Now, go. Please."

    "Yeah. Going."

    Jack stumbled as he started down the hall, banging into the wall. He stifled a groan as pain ripped through his shoulder. Gingerly, he regained his balance and used the wall for support as he slowly made his way to where Kieran said Sam would be. Or the general area. Down the hall and somewhere. At the end of the hall, he looked between his two choices. He could see sunlight peeking through a window on the left, so that was as good of a sign as any.

    He reached the end of the second hall and could hear loud voices. He swallowed and shakily raised his arms, struggling with his left. He was almost there. He could keep it together a little longer. Besides, he''d been arrested before, and these cops probably didn''t care what sort of mess his arms were in. He dropped them with a choked sob and stumbled back against the wall. He sank down and hid his arms between his legs and chest, listening to the voices as they drew closer.

    Soon, there was shouting. The hall filled with people and noise, and Jack curled into himself tighter, cringing away from the overwhelming cacophony.

    The hall quieted as he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He gasped for breath as he raised his eyes to see Sam kneeling before him.

    "You back with us?" Sam quietly asked.

    Jack swallowed and shook his head, tucking it back between his knees. The touch on his shoulder turned to a light squeeze.

    "Do you know where Farragut is?"

    He pulled an arm free and waved it in the direction he had come. He groaned pitifully at the sudden silence that filled the hall and hid his arm again. Heavy boots quickly made off down the hallway.

    "We''re gonna find him, Jack."

    "He was supposed to be dead," Jack sobbed. "I was supposed to be getting my life together."

    Sam pulled Jack into a tight hug. "I know."

 The Fifth

    The reassuring weight of TC and Adhafera on Jack''s lap kept bringing him to tears. He was safe and free from the manipulations of vampires. It was real. He wasn''t dreaming. He wiped at his eyes, wincing at the soreness in his shoulder.

    He lightly ran a finger over the edges of the bandage covering his shoulder, rubbing the fabric of his shirt across it. He missed his oversized hoodie. As much as he wanted to get another, it wouldn''t be the same.

    His laptop had been found and returned to him, along with his phone. He looked down at where his laptop sat beside him, and slowly breathed through the sense of panic. He was grateful to have his stuff back, but he still wanted to get replacements.

    A new, untainted start. A start that was going to require decisions he didn''t want to make.

    He reached past his laptop and picked up the journal resting beside it. He opened up to where a cheap ballpoint pen held his place and read over what he''d written, swallowing back the need to break down.

    He couldn''t remember writing about the sheets with happy dinosaurs. He''d even gone so far as to draw one, and he could vaguely recall the blue stegosaurus.

    He had added transcribing his journal pages into his routine, and he was frightened by just how much information he wasn''t retaining. Even his recent stay with Farragut was slippery. The one solid memory he was able to hold onto was that of Farragut''s head sitting on the floor next to a lifeless body.

    It was gruesome, it gave him nightmares, and it was reassuring with how invasively it stuck in his mind.

    He closed the journal and ran his thumb over the upper corner, relaxing under the soft sound of quickly flipping pages. He was getting better at remembering the times Kieran had fucked with his head, but anything relating to Farragut was a much harder battle.

    And here he thought he was doing pretty well, remembering bits and pieces all on his own. Too bad most of it didn''t stick. He could remember more from the week that Farragut had him than he could from his first stint at being a vampire''s personal wine rack, so he had to be making progress.

    A soft knock on the door, and Jack looked up, apprehensive of a conversation he wasn''t ready for.

    "C''mon in," he said.

    Sam pushed the door open and leaned against the doorjamb. "How ya'' doin''?" he asked.

    "Shitty. My, uh, memory issues are worse than I thought," Jack replied, holding up his journal. He set it on top of Adhafera''s side, earning a small mewl of complaint.

    "Is it getting worse?"

    "No. Just same ol'' same old." He watched as his journal rose and fell with Adhafera''s breaths. "I think. I paid my rent."

    "You can quit your lease, if it''d be easier. You can rent the guestroom," Sam offered.

    Jack shook his head. He already felt bad for staying with Sam and Candace. "I feel better having a place of my own. Even if it''s not great, it''s mine. I can¡­" His brows furrowed as uncertainty poured through him. Could he afford to have a shitty little apartment he was going to do his best to avoid for a while? He couldn''t recall feeling worried when he paid the bill. On time and ahead by a week.

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    No, his worries surrounded the fact that Farragut knew where he lived and frequented. He closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. Farragut was dead. Apparently, potato chips made a decent accelerant with the added benefit of not being obvious. He had yet to look at any of the files from the coroner, but he wouldn''t be surprised if decapitation hadn''t been mentioned.

    "I''m good," he said with a shrug. "I just need some things to stick before I get out of your hair. I''m out. I''m good. You found me."

    "We got lucky." Sam pushed off the door frame and sat on the foot of the bed. "I came down kinda hard on your boyfriend," he said. His tone was apologetic, and his smile was anything but. "You''re right about the Lucky Charms thing," he teasingly added.

    "He''s not my boyfriend. Right now. I dunno. I need a break-break from¡­people. Maybe I should date someone else first? Like, get some sorta sense of a normal dating thing? Dynamic. Not that he''s not normal. He''s kinda normal. Normal enough. Since I have access to his computer, I looked up his browser history, and I don''t know what I was expecting. It was normal. Directions, reviews, history stuff. Dull. He likes ritzy restaurants."

    He crossed his arms and looked away from Sam''s disapproving stare. "I guess I wanted to find something¡­spookier? Illicit? I want an excuse that''s not just¡­ He¡­ I don''t wanna say I owe him, ''cuz that''s a shitty reason to date someone. I''m torn. That''s all. He says he likes me for reasons, but I dunno if I like him for any reasons outside the aesthetic. I mean, it feels like I like him ''cuz he matches the curtains or something. Like I bought a book just because the cover looks cool, but I have no intention of ever reading it. I just want it on my shelf to stare at."

    "Books aren''t for everyone. I''m not into mysticism, but the writing was compelling, and the advertising campaign was relentless," Sam said with a smirk.

    "Er¡­ Right. Books. Reading. I can read. I''m not illiterate. I just prefer to read alone?" He shrank under Sam''s amusement. And then a brow was raised, waiting for him to continue digging his hole. "Are we talking about the same thing?"

    "Candy trusts you not to be a homewrecker and act on your cute crush because I''m clueless, and you''re harmless."

    "It''s not a crush. It''s envy over being a functioning adult," he said, much too defensively for it to be true. Maybe deflecting would work better. "Which, y''know, raises some flags when someone''s first few impressions of me is as a total disaster, and he''s still interested? And I''m not supposed to question his motives? He''s handsome and creepy, and I''ve done that before, and it ended up¡­" He raised and dropped his arms. "But he''s more spooky-creepy, not creepy-creepy. He''s nice and thoughtful, but lotsa people are, so I don''t know if it counts."

    Jack looked up at Sam as the weighted silence drew on. He didn''t like the calculating stare that bore into him. He was a wreck that had no ability to lie at the moment, and Sam looked determined.

    "Jack, tell me O''Byrne has no involvement with Farragut."

    "W-what?"

    "We got a tip on your location, and I think it came from him," Sam flatly replied.

    "I uh¡­"

    "You said you owe him."

    "Well¡­ Yeah, but¡­ I plead the fifth? Is that the right one?" Jack attempted a smile and tugged on his sleeves.

    Sam ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Fuck. Damnit, Jack."

    Jack stared at his lap. The weight of the two cats seemed to grow heavier, pinning him in place with no escape.

    Sighing as he looked back at Jack, Sam brought his hand over his mouth then dropped it onto his lap. "Is it anything incriminating?"

    "Nothing that doesn''t sound crazy, and I don''t wanna be committed again. But I probably should be," Jack admitted.

    "Candy says I should leave it. Should I listen to her?"

    Sam''s question was spoken quietly, but still startled Jack. "Yeah. She knows her shit. That knowledge sword was right."

    "Right."

    "It''s still fucking cardstock printed in China," he insisted.

 So... Goodbye

    can we meet somplac public?

    Of course, my sweet. Anywhere and anytime you would like.

    2moro outside bailys sammich shop

    noon

    I will see you tomorrow.

    ---

    The sandwich shop was packed with a line leading out the door. People picked their way through the crowded doorway as they left, heading back to whichever surrounding office building they had come from.

    Jack had taken the long route, approaching from the opposite direction of his apartment. The moment he caught sight of Kieran standing nearby and staring expectantly down the street, he felt a pang of guilt over his paranoia. He quickly stamped the feeling down. He was justified in his actions.

    "Hey. I''m here," he called out. He pulled the zipper to his borrowed coat up and down as Kieran startled and turned. It didn''t have the same feel as his old hoodie. Yet another reminder of how he couldn''t get his old life back. Not that he really wanted it, but he was used to it. "Sorry for being late."

    "It''s perfectly al¡ª You''re wearing cologne," said Kieran. His tone was polite, but his face scrunched up in distaste.

    Jack grimaced and looked away. Of course that was the first thing to cross Kieran''s mind. "Yeah, I can''t stand it, either. It''s Sam''s. I kinda borrowed it, and he looked at me weird. I''m gonna find something else."

    "To cover your scent. I understand. There are other methods."

    He perked up, hoping it was something easy and noninvasive to his sense of smell. "Oh, yeah?"

    "It''s much harder to discern your scent when you''re¡­ What would be a good term?" Kieran looked away with a thoughtful expression before giving Jack a toothy grin. "Oh, yes. Shitfaced. But I would fear for your liver."

    "You''re hilarious." Jack needed to focus. He wasn''t supposed to be won over by Kieran. He rubbed at his forearms, riding through the sting of freshly picked scabs. And doing his best to ignore the reminder that he wasn''t doing anything to prevent adding to his collection of scars.

    Which Kieran knew about because he fucked with people''s heads with no remorse.

    "So I heard you tipped off the cops. How did you get that tip?"

    "I can be fairly persuasive," Kieran said easily.

    "Uh-huh."

    "I was the first suspect on Detective Fairchild''s list. After he stopped by, I began my own line of inquiries," Kieran explained. He paused as he took in Jack''s peeved expression then continued with a more careful tone. "Unlike your friend, I have a way to ensure I''m not being lied to. I thought it necessary to utilize it."

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    "Right. Guess I can''t fault you for that¡­ Uh¡­ Did you persuade him to stop interrogating you?"

    "He left of his own volition." Kieran''s jaw tightened, and he shifted his weight.

    Jack dropped his gaze. He wished he could pull off embarrassment like that. Smooth, barely affected. It wasn''t fair that he became an overcompensating mess. "Yeah. Um¡­ You know that email I sent you linking to that skeleton article?"

    "Yes? How is this relevant?"

    There was no going back. Kieran had to have already connected the dots that Jack had gained access to the shop''s security cameras. Except the password hadn''t been changed, and that did no favors for Jack''s mental state. But cameras were entirely different from Kieran''s personal computer.

    "I''m a shitty person, too." Jack held his breath as Kieran''s eyes narrowed in confusion. "There was a, uh, self-installing program embedded in the website. I have access to your computer. I was gonna spy on you for a little bit, but Farragut got me. And then I just, uh, checked to see¡­stuff. Your browser history is, well, boring. Really boring."

    "From a website? It''s that simple?" Kieran asked, dumbfounded. His eyes flitted back and forth as he licked his lips.

    "Kinda, yeah."

    "I see. That is disturbing."

    "So''s a bathroom without a lock," Jack muttered. He cleared his throat when Kieran''s gaze focused back on him. "People usually use the tactic to snag credit card numbers and passwords and stuff. Y''know, spoof a familiar website. Pretty low effort. I use it to sneak in and watch people''s screens instead of TV. Sorry. I can uninstall it for you. Won''t even dig myself in even further like I did with Sam."

    "Oh, no. Do what you need to feel more secure," Kieran said with a small smile. "I hardly use the damned thing. This is simply another excuse for me to remain stuck in my ways."

    Accepting. Too accepting. Farragut was proof of the sort of lengths a vampire would go to for a taste of Jack''s blood. How patient they could be. As much as he wanted to give Kieran a chance, he couldn''t trust any vampire''s motives. Not anymore.

    "Yeah. So. The main reason I wanted to meet up. I don''t¡­" His breath hitched, and he swallowed, fighting the urge to burst into tears. "I don''t think this is gonna work out. I mean, I''m grateful you came to get me. So¡­ So fucking grateful, but I don''t think I can do this."

    Kieran let out a slow sigh and nodded. "Very well. My door is always open to you," he offered.

    "Yeah, well, my neck''s not open to you," Jack snapped, anger and embarrassment coursing through his veins. Of course the moment his scent wasn''t shoved up Kieran''s nose, the jerk lost interest.

    "That''s not what I''m after."

    "Of course it''s not. You have all the time in the world to be patient. I don''t buy it," he said. He thrust his hands into unfamiliar pockets, and his chest tightened as he ground his teeth, blinking to clear his vision. "We''re through. I''m done. I''ll be civil if I see you, but we''re through. I''m not doing vampires anymore. It''s too¡­ Just no."

    "I understand."

    Jack glanced up, expecting to see hurt, anger, annoyance¡­ Something. All he saw was mild acceptance.

    It hurt more than Jack thought it would. No fight. No attempt to keep him there. Not even an offer for lunch to buy more time to win him back.

    Covering up his scent did wonders in the temptation department.

    A loud bark of laughter pulled him out of the isolated world of his breakup, and he struggled to breathe as he briefly locked eyes with a stranger. He chose a public setting for his safety, but failed to remember that it included other people. He chewed on his lip and quickly glanced up at Kieran, eyes wide as panic slowly crept up his spine, clinging to every muscle in his body.

    "Jack?"

    He shook his head and took a step back. "I''m fine. I''m gonna walk this off. Alone."

    "Do take care of yourself," Kieran said, his voice soft and concerned. "You have my number. Even¡­ Even as a friend if you find you need one."

    Jack nodded sharply. He pulled his hands free of his pockets in favor of gripping his sleeves. "Okay. So¡­ Goodbye."

 Spiritus Thomas

    Blood seeped into the hardwood floor of Thomas''s apartment. He stared down at his corpse with a sense of detached interest. The dark blood clashed with his bright red hair. He really needed to lay off the drugs and stick to good ol'' fashioned booze. Or stop flaunting the fact that he didn''t want for money.

    Too late now. One way or another, he kept getting into trouble.

    The man who shot him ran through him and out the door, everything small and of value neatly packed into a pillow case. Everything that wasn''t squirreled away in the walls, at least.

    Thomas wandered over to the window and sighed to himself as his murderer jumped into a car driven by a young woman he recognized. Picking up random girls who were a bit too interested in him was proving bad for his health.

    If he knew where his sire was, he''d pay him a visit while he was still incorporeal. Push over some books, flicker some lights. A good little haunting to spice things up in that dull little life.

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    He would have to settle for the next best thing. He was fairly certain Renaud was still a town or two away. And after her Special Little Boy had unceremoniously dropped in last week, she deserved a broken vase more than his own sire. The threats he had received from her when she had stopped by to give a courtesy warning of her new territory around twenty years ago to everyone in a hundred-mile radius also needed a proper response.

    Thomas glanced back at his body and hoped no one had called 911. He wanted enough time to track down and properly haunt Renaud before ending up in a morgue.

    He turned his attention eastward and concentrated. Dizziness overtook him as a cloying tug in his core pulled at his being. His surroundings wavered and solidified into a busy intersection.

    Stone and brick buildings loomed overhead, strings of garland and lights wrapped around streetlamps and trees. Storefronts were decorated with Christmas trees and snowmen. Cars lazily drove along, hunting for an open space as people scurried across the street between them.

    Regret for not looking at a map or even something resembling an address creeped over Thomas. Haunting was supposed to be fun and easy.

 Unfair

    It wasn''t fair.

    Kieran was a stuck up, secretive ass, Jack was a coward, and Lindsey was bored out of her mind.

    She had already exhausted herself on Black Friday, happily conversing with customers and reveling in the interaction. She had loved every moment of it, but had she known what Small Business Saturday was, she would have waited.

    Kieran had insisted that not running any specials would keep people disinterested, but he''d been proven wrong within the first hour of opening.

    A lull came, and Lindsey manifested as a shadow beneath the register counter. She poked at Kieran''s leg repeatedly, ignoring the swift kick to what should have been her hip.

    "Can you move me to the back?" she asked.

    "Why?"

    "It looks like the salon behind us finally opened. I wanna watch haircuts."

    "I thought you were keeping an eye on shoplifters," said Kieran. He looked over the surrounding glass cases, many now covered in fingerprints.

    "I already spooked one." Spooking was about all she could do in her current state. Whispers, cold spots, and light tugging. She couldn''t go full out and pop up beside her victims until she had a good rest. "And as if you actually care. That ugly ring from this morning''ll cover half the shit in here."

    Kieran shifted in his chair and leaned back. "I''m enjoying my few moments of sitting down."

    "I''ll leave the cupboards alone for a week."

    "Only the cupboards?" Kieran bent down to glare at the cold shadow resting on his feet.

    "I''ll shut up at night," Lindsey added reluctantly.

    Kieran reached through Lindsey''s head and picked up a small box sitting on a shelf beneath the register. He quickly checked the foot traffic in front of the shop before heading to the backroom.

    Lindsey followed and watched, barely keeping her excitement to herself, as Kieran opened the box and pulled out her grandmother''s locket. "The north corner should work," she said, moving through the boxes lining the back wall.

    Kieran nodded and eyed the corner. He settled on hanging the gold locket from the broken wing of a cuckoo clock. "Don''t have too much fun," he warned before heading back into the shop, closing the door behind him.

    Lindsey passed through the brick wall and into the alley, happily heading for the new salon. So far, she''d only been able to poke around the storage room and examine all the boxes of hair products. It had gone from a crowded mess to an organized collection of everything she never knew she needed for her spectral hair.

    Stepping into the salon, she marveled at the line of white sinks beside her. Low conversations filled the air, and she already had her eye on a particularly animated woman near the front. She moved through the counter, taking in the messy state of a few stations.

    Divorce and dog vomit hadn''t been what Lindsey was expecting for her chosen entertainment, but she was all set to learn more about how sickly dogs were better companions than men. And at this point in her afterlife, she couldn''t agree more. She perched on the edge of the counter, steering clear of the hairdresser''s reach and looked around at the posters of outlandish haircuts.

    Her eyes fell upon a familiar young man standing by the register. The pretty blonde woman beside Jack paid the cashier as he fidgeted and stared at a plant sitting beside the register.

    Lindsey hopped down and hurried over to take in Jack''s new appearance. His face was no longer hidden by his grunge-wannabe hair, and his clothing was fitted and new. Slim jeans, a dark green turtleneck, and a black peacoat. The first thought she had was that Kieran would love it.

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    If Jack ever grew a pair and showed up again. Or if Kieran would get off his ass and make an effort at winning Jack back.

    She followed the pair out of the salon, eagerly eavesdropping, and hoping they would make their way to Kieran''s shop. She would love for Jack to parade himself right in front of the store and rub his new look in Kieran''s face.

    "I look stupid," Jack hissed the moment they were out the door.

    "You look great."

    Lindsey had to agree with Jack''s friend. He looked so much better. She resisted whispering her sentiments into his ear.

    "People are looking at me."

    "Because you look great."

    "You said a haircut would make me feel better." Jack popped the collar of his peacoat up and attempted to shrink into it. He huffed shallowly and smoothed the collar back down as he hunched his shoulders.

    "I said it makes me feel better, and you should try it. I think it''ll do you good. Opening doors. The¡ª"

    "Don''t you dare mention any cards," Jack snapped, pulling on his sleeves and glaring at them as he clenched a fist. He sighed heavily and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

    "How about a stone?"

    They reached the street corner, and Lindsey hit the edge of her range. She watched helplessly as Jack walked away, complaining about the cold.

    No visiting Kieran. No stopping by to see if Lindsey was doing okay and hadn''t been sold off. She couldn''t really blame Jack for not wanting to stop by. She wouldn''t want to see a ghost who looked like her, either.

    She moped about on the corner until a light tingle grazed her core. She looked over, catching sight of a man wandering aimlessly in the street. She narrowed her eyes as he paused and slowly turned toward her. Blood poured from his mouth, mixing with the multiple wounds spread across his chest. The poor guy had apparently been shot in the head, too.

    Someone went a little overboard.

    "Um¡­ Dude, just so''s you know¡­ You''re kinda dead," she called out.

    "Yeah. I noticed," he flatly replied. "You look like a train wreck."

    "You should see the train." Lindsey ran her eyes over the other ghost. He was looking particularly transparent. "You need to reach anyone? I''m a decent poltergeist. I can send a message."

    "No. Yes¡­ Need to find¡­ She was Renaud when I saw her last." He flickered and shook his head. "Damnit. Leave it, asshole!"

    "Follow me. I have connections. I can write it down for you. Got a name?"

    He slowly nodded as he stumbled toward her. "Thomas."

    The roaming ghosts didn''t last long, unable to anchor themselves to anything sentimental within the physical world. As much as Lindsey envied their ability to move on, she was happy enough to stick around and watch her shows. One more season turned into a new series, which only led to more seasons, shows, and spin-offs.

    And then she discovered streaming services that had her old favorites. The mortal realm would forever be her home.

    They reached the backroom of Kieran''s shop, and Lindsey led the way through the closed door to the register. Thomas followed at a slower pace, looking around in confusion at the stacks of boxes. He paused as he passed a grandfather clock, narrowing his eyes at its brightly polished wood.

    Lindsey poked at Kieran''s back pocket until he pulled his phone out, radiating irritation as he set it behind a small display case of porcelain figures. He put on a charming smile when an older woman approached with a leatherbound book.

    Lindsey concentrated as she opened up a note app and carefully picked out the letters.

    g mesg 4 rennoh?

    looks bad, gang related?

    She looked up expectantly, but found her mystery ghost to be staring at Kieran.

    "Kieran? Y-you¡­"

    "Hey, Tommy. Focus. What''s your message?" She watched helplessly with her mouth ajar as Thomas wavered and vanished. "Oh, c''mon. Would it''ve killed you to stick around for two more seconds?!"

    She stared down at her short message, feeling dejected.

    Kieran finished ringing up the woman and glanced down at his phone, a concerned frown forming. "Renaud? Is there a first name?" he asked under his breath.

    She picked out a few more words.

    gone now, knew u

    name was thomas

    She looked back at Kieran and wondered if he was more pale than usual.

 Scents and Sensability

    Everything smelled disgusting after the initial ten minutes. Too floral, too soapy, too spicy. Too old man, too¡­

    Too Kieran.

    Jack sighed as he looked over the various bottles of cologne, placing the one he''d just sniffed back in its spot. He could barely tell the difference anymore. Why was it so hard to find something that was simple and subtle? Or something that was bright and happy.

    And not what stuffy vampires wore.

    Jack moved further down the aisle, examining bottles as he went. How long did it take to get over a guy? A couple months should have been more than enough. It also should have been enough time to settle on some sort of cologne.

    If Tara hadn''t been with him, he''d have given up and gone home. Throwing the covers over his head and panicking about how his new bedframe was too high off the floor seemed like a good idea. It was the cheapest thing he could find, and it had plenty of space beneath it for a full grown adult to squeeze under.

    Not that he had crawled under it to check. Then immediately shoved every box he could scrounge up beneath the damned thing.

    He hated it.

    He hated change. He hated getting his so-called life together.

    "Wrist."

    He obediently raised his arm for Tara and felt her spritz his inner wrist. Another trip to the bathroom to cleanse his poor skin would be in order. If only he hadn''t already ducked into the small bathroom five minutes earlier to scrub off the first sampling before Tara had found some paper strips. He was stuck with whatever she had just chosen, and he had a feeling she planned it. He reluctantly sniffed at his wrist then gave her a confused frown. "Orange?"

    "Found it in the stuff for tweens," Tara said with a wide grin. "Seemed like a you thing. And how can you say no to this chubby¡­ Dog? Penguin?" She glared at the packaging, tilting her head in confusion. "I have no idea what this thing''s s''posed to be."

    "It''s not awful." Jack took another sniff. "Creamsicle. I smell yum¡ª Fuck." If he smelled anything like the body spray, then he completely got why vampires wanted a bite out of him. "Yeah. Okay."

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    "I''ll get it for you," she said, her grin turning soft. She pointed the bottle at Jack''s nose and placed a hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes as Jack opened his mouth. "It''s five bucks, so shut up."

    Jack''s mouth snapped shut, swallowing down his protest. He could handle five dollars being spent on him. It was just like a coffee. And nowhere near the shopping and makeover extravaganza Candace had subjected him to when he mentioned wanting to make a change.

    The haircut was bad enough. The new clothes were even worse. People didn''t ignore him anymore. Compliments. Getting chatted up. He had to give up on finding a new bar.

    Turning his life around had been a big mistake. The biggest he could make. Outside of having a thing for vampires.

    "You should swing by the gym sometime. Complete your whole get-over-the-boyfriend thing," Tara said as she headed toward an aisle full of mascara.

    "I''m not helping you get a bonus."

    She rolled her eyes as she poked through the different brands. "As my family, asshole."

    Jack threw her a skeptical glare before pointedly examining his hands as he turned them over. "For some reason, I don''t think that''ll work."

    "Everyone does it," she said dismissively. "I''m covering Jenny''s yoga class while she''s on maternity leave. It''s pretty chill and full of eye candy."

    "I don''t think being stuck with my own thoughts is a good idea."

    "Then take up kick boxing. There''s room in my Wednesday afternoon class. I promise I won''t call you out for bad form in front of everyone."

    Being able to properly fight back would be nice. It would at least give him a leg up if he encountered a normal person. And learning to kick pushy assholes in the nuts would give him the confidence to hunt down a new bar. "I guess learning to fight would be a good thing."

    "It''s not that kinda class, but if you do have to go up against someone, then you''ll be less likely to hurt yourself." Tara settled on a tube of mascara and frowned at it before turning to Jack. "Hopefully. Actually, stick to the taser."

    "I did. Wasn''t much help," he replied, hunching his shoulders and staring at the floor as the reminder of his uselessness barreled into him.

    "That''s ''cuz you got ganged up on."

    He hadn''t exactly been ganged up on, but he never argued against the story everyone had come up with. He was more than happy to just agree with the assumptions that he''d been physically overpowered and threatened.

    "Besides, that guy''s dead-dead, so it shouldn''t be an issue anymore."

    "Thanks for jinxing me. If I get kidnapped again, it''s your fault."

    Tara snorted out a laugh. "I''ll get you a gift card the next time it happens."

 Adopted

    Snowflakes drifted by in the light breeze, melting the moment they touched the ground. There were a few pedestrians wandering through the park on the cold Sunday morning. Festive decorations from the main downtown streets had leaked into the park, and a number of trees were strewn with fairy lights and large plastic bulbs in a variety of colors.

    The wind kicked up, and Jack attempted to tuck his hair behind his ear before it could blow into his face. He sighed in annoyance when his fingers brushed against his skin. He should get a hat or a beanie. Something nondescript.

    A passing woman caught his eye. Her winter coat protected her from the cold, and the fluffy hood protected her from prying eyes. If he got one in his size, then he could escape Candace''s criticizing pout and still have a way to hide from the world. For now, he would have to settle on hiding between Candace and Tara as they meandered through the park at a leisurely pace.

    "I still wanna check out your ex''s shop," Candace mumbled. She tugged on her hair as she glanced at Jack. A half shrug and guilty smile was all she could offer in answer to his frown. "He doesn''t know me. I could browse and¡­ Well, I could stay under budget."

    "I''m not stopping you," he said with a small huff.

    "But it would be rude."

    Tara nodded along, humming in agreement.

    "And bringing it up isn''t?" He couldn''t hide his exasperation. He knew she meant well, but he wished she would just go, look, and leave him the hell out of it. And maybe sneak him a pic of Kieran reading. Preferably in front of a fireplace in a castle. He needed to stop looking up romantic photoshoots and watching old vampire movies.

    "My stones said now was a good time to broach the subject!" Candace''s smile was bright, confident, and had Jack wishing he could accept her optimism without scrutinizing her words.

    He looked away with a soft sigh. He didn''t trust those rocks and their carved runes, nor did he trust Candace''s smile. It might not have been a fresh wound, but it still stung. Like his shoulder. Everything reminded him of vampires, lies, and his inability to cope.

    And his habit of running away from difficulties and change. He could always start texting Kieran and ease back into a relationship, but then there would be questions about why he blocked Kieran. Not doing anything was the easiest option. It was easier to suffer in silence than ask for help. He clenched his jaw at the fuzziness, wondering how much of his thoughts were his own.

    "We don''t have to talk about it if you''re not ready," said Candace, her voice soft and full of empathy.

    "I dunno¡­ I still like him, I guess. He''s nice to look at. To listen to." He shook his head and stared at the ground. He fought against the churning in his stomach and his tightening chest. He wanted more opinions on his decision. To be told he was right or wrong. With how few reasons he gave for liking Kieran, he doubted he was going to be given an excuse to go crawling back. "Fuck, I''m so shallow."

    "Sometimes it''s just nice to have things or people around us that we like looking at. There''s nothing wrong with that. I like looking at my husband," Candace replied, her tone gaining a mystical quality. Her smile turned sharp as she grinned at Jack. "I saw something I wanted, and I went for it."

    "He''s so pretty. Kieran. Not Sam. Well, Sam''s fine. I mean¡­" There was no fighting the blush. It didn''t matter. Candace already knew about the crush. Sam knew about the crush.

    And they both knew he was "harmless."

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    "I love it when he''s scruffy," she continued, blissfully unaware of Jack''s discomfort. "I get to drag my nails over his stubble." She lightly ran her gloved fingers over her own cheeks, closing her eyes with a happy grunt. "The best part is he has no clue what he looks like after a double shift."

    Tara bumped heavily against Jack, sending him into Candace. "That man is so clueless. He came into the gym once to drop off Jack''s mail," she said. "Poor guy looked like a raccoon gave him a makeover, and he pulled it off. Randy was hittin'' on him hard. Nothing. Completely unaware. It wasn''t until he got Randy''s phone number that he realized what was going on. And only because there were fucking hearts in place of the zeros."

    "Some men just need to be hit so hard, they get a concussion," Candace said with the air and confidence of a sage.

    "And you''re a walking two-by-four," Tara added with a laugh.

    "Got my man, didn''t I? Even got him to propose. And then we adopted!" Candace clasped her hands together with a delighted sigh.

    "What? When?!" Jack stared at Candace in shock. She had to be talking about the cats. There was no way either her or Sam wouldn''t mention looking at adopting a child.

    "She means you," Tara said as she lightly patted Jack''s unharmed shoulder.

    Flattered or offended. Jack didn''t know which way he should lean more.

    Candace nodded solemnly. "And we''ve done such a good job with you, that we may look at adopting an older child. I''m narrowing down an age."

    "Old enough to be grateful, but young enough to train?" Tara asked with false sweetness.

    "The spaghetti has been favoring six," Candace airily replied.

    Jack shot Tara an incredulous stare, thankful that she had her own look of skepticism.

    "Right," Tara said with a long and doubtful tone. "Hey, let''s drop in on Jack''s ex! We can look and not buy. But let''s do it five minutes before he closes or just before lunch."

    Jack shook his head and kicked at a twig that had fallen to the ground. It didn''t go very far, and only served to remind him of his own state of being. "He''s closed most Sundays. It''s one of those ''open when they feel like it'' places."

    "We can walk by," she said, easily changing tactics. "Be loud and carefree. Show him what he''s missing out on."

    "I broke up with him. I think he knows what he''s missing out on, and it''s not much. Me, on the other hand?" Jack glanced at Tara and Candace, gaging their expressions. Expectant and patient. He was going to have to explain himself if he didn''t want to run the risk of being badgered later.

    Or getting another unexpected tarot reading.

    "He made me coffee while shirtless and got mugs from the top shelf. I know he did it on purpose." He huffed as a spike of fondness pierced him and shook his head free of the thought. "He''s good looking, competent, nice, kinda stuck up¡­ I wanna¡­ I see him, and I just wanna be around him. And look like some kinda angry gremlin. Never mind. I don''t know what I want."

    It was a lie. He wanted the thoughtfulness Kieran had shown. Even if some of it was born from being enthralled. He also wanted that feeling back. Letting go, not caring, being what he thought normal people felt like all the time. He had almost given in and tried to score some ecstasy. He must have given something away, left a tab open on his laptop, something, because Sam had pulled him aside for a preemptive intervention and blamed it on Candace''s cards.

    Candace reached up and rearranged Jack''s fringe.

    He raised his eyes and shriveled under her caring gaze.

    "Love is confusing," she said softly.

    "I''m not in love," he insisted. "I''d say I barely know him, but I know enough. He''s a fucking lying asshole. Assholes shouldn''t be allowed to be gorgeous! I have a type, and it''s pretty liars."

    He failed to mention that "vampire" was also on the list. Did it have something to do with him being a supposed beacon? Was he naturally drawn to his personalized predator? Did two even count as having a type?

    Tara lightly gasped. "Shit. You''re right! Didn''t Kyle lie about having that girlfriend?"

    Jack kept his expression blank. He didn''t remember a Kyle. "Back in high school?" he guessed as his throat began to close up.

    "Yeah. He was kinda cute. Too bad about the cheating."

    "Yeah. Too bad." Maybe it was better if he couldn''t remember.

 Southern Comfort

    The five of diamonds was right there, and the cursor ignored it in favor of turning over the next set of three cards. Was Sam really that bad at solitaire, or did he suspect Jack of spying?

    Jack sipped at his comped latte, his suspicions mixing into each other. Missy had to know he''d been kidnapped. Granted, it was in the paper. His miserable face had graced its pages once more, looking worse than the first time around. He would like to go one day without wondering if people were being nice out of pity.

    He sighed to himself, ready to take over Sam''s failing game.

    "Might I persuade you to allow me to buy you another coffee?"

    Jack snapped his laptop shut and stared up at the newcomer with wide eyes. The owner of the smooth Southern drawl had chestnut brown hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a smattering of light freckles. He was the very picture of a clean cut college kid who would look amazing leaning against the railing of a yacht or lounging on a sailboat.

    Then the question and situation registered.

    Even if the guy looked to be a little younger than Jack, age didn''t mean anything with vampires running around. And now that he thought about it, the guy did have a creepy vibe to him.

    Logically, not everyone was a vampire out to get him. Jack was being overly paranoid. The chances that he managed to stumble across another vampire were slim to none.

    "No, thank you?" He gnawed at the inside of his lip.

    "Already with a lucky someone or not looking?" the young man asked, his smile lopsided and regretful.

    "I guess." Jack thought he was getting better at politely turning people down with minimal reasoning, but he could do without the practice. He could also do without the temptation. It wouldn''t matter anyway. He was pretty sure he hated sailing. Doubt clawed at his stomach.

    "Too bad for me, hm? I hope you feel better that this handsome stranger thinks you would make a delightful boyfriend." His tone was light and friendly without a hint of hurt or anger.

    Jack wished he had that sort of confidence, flirting with the edge of obnoxiousness. It was the natural confidence of a creature that could start over if it screwed up.

    "Not a delicious boyfriend?" he muttered through his overwhelming bitterness. He cringed internally and slowly dragged his eyes up, hoping he hadn''t been heard.

    The man''s eyes widened as he covered his mouth and quickly sat down, leaning in close. "Am I that obvious?" he asked in a low whisper.

    Jack''s instincts had been right. Wonderful. "I''ve had experience," he cautiously replied. He quickly glanced to the counter, and felt a bit of relief that Missy was slowly cleaning a mug, her suspicious glare glued to Jack''s table partner.

    "Oh, then no beating around the bush!" The shift in demeanor was immediate. The young man''s easy confidence returned, and he leaned back against his chair. "I''m visiting my lovely cousin. I say cousin, but I mean sponsor. I''m just looking for some company for the few months I''m here. No real commitment, no obligations. Just some friendly dates. I loathe eating alone, and I would greatly enjoy the company when trying out local eateries."

    A temporary boyfriend just fell into his lap. The safest thing to do was to politely decline the offer. "Maybe?"

    Then again, he could use the practice of having a vampiric rebound since he was incapable of making smart decisions. The dumber, the better.

    "Name''s Augie."

    "Uh¡­ Kyle. Why me?" His body spray had to be working. He reeked of delicious orange and vanilla.

    "I''m hoping you''re completely in the know. I saw the buttons."

    Jack glanced down at his shiny new laptop bag, decorated with a small collection of enamel pins Tara insisted he needed. She had also decided said pins needed their backs permanently glued in place, much to his dismay.

    Which brightly colored pin had a double meaning? The logo for that stupid fairy game Tara was addicted to? He had added a dumb little smiling green bat because he hated himself. That had to be it.

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    "I''ve always appreciated the ace flag''s color scheme. A sophisticated combination. Ah¡­ It''s easier than explaining or lying without relying on the kink scene," Augie said, making the vaguest of gestures to his lower body while looking away.

    For once, Jack didn''t have to explain his disinterest or make something up to avoid embarrassment. Too bad the occasion was wasted on a vampire and not worth celebrating. "I guess that makes sense."

    "So? May I buy you a coffee?" Augie eagerly prodded.

    Everything in Jack''s past told him to say "no." But when offered with such a charming Southern drawl? Augie''s voice was as smooth as top shelf bourbon served up in a pretty package of collegiate business casual and freckles. How the hell was he being picked up as arm candy when he was the one that wanted to be surrounded by pretty people?

    Pretty people who wanted to buy him things. And suck his blood.

    "How old are you?" He may as well find out how deep of a grave he was robbing since he doubted Augie was younger than him.

    "I served in the Civil War."

    It was time to pack up and head home.

    "Right," he said, leaning over to unplug his laptop.

    "Oh! No! Not like that. Well, at first, yes," Augie hurriedly whispered. "My father had me join as punishment for having a habit of losing slaves and being the spare son. I somehow became lost in a northerly direction."

    "I guess being a deserter''s a step up," Jack reluctantly admitted.

    Augie''s smile was wide and hopeful, and it wore at Jack''s defenses. It was a great smile that showed off the slight crookedness in Augie''s teeth, giving off a sense of authenticity.

    Maybe the whole "third time''s a charm" thing rang true. Candace had said his future was looking decent. "Yeah. You can buy me a coffee. But I''m not making any liquid donations in return," Jack said as he twisted the power cord to his laptop.

    "Disappointing, but I do believe I am self-sufficient enough to find sustenance elsewhere."

    "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He shouldn''t feel a pang of insult. Not being on the menu was a good thing.

    "I suppose not. I found it to be a touch disconcerting when I found out what I needed to do in order to survive," Augie admitted with a small grimace and shrug. "I never take more than I need. My sponsor would murder me in a most painful fashion."

    The smart thing to do would be to turn Augie away. But Jack was lonely and hurting, and having a nice little band-aid for his heart might help. He hoped it would help. Short rebound relationships were normal. Tara kept mentioning that he should find someone. This would prove to everyone that he was fine and not hung up on his creepy ex.

    "Have I changed your mind?" Augie asked, disappointment seeping into his voice.

    "Not¡­exactly. I uh¡­" Jack wanted to date for all the wrong reasons. Pretty face, rebound, proof he could do this. Proof that there had to be a vampire out there that wasn''t a stuck up ass. And Augie said he''d only be around for a few months while visiting. Temporary. If he fucked it up or got caught being crazy, then he wouldn''t have to worry about accidentally coming across Augie. No ducking into an alley at the sight of a familiar face or car.

    "Yeah. We can try this." Jack raised his eyes from Augie''s growing smile to his nose.

    "Then let me start by getting you that drink. What would you like?"

    Jack huffed a small laugh. "I like everything, so...surprise me." It was always interesting to see what others got him. There was a pang of loss over Kieran''s guess of using just enough sugar and cream to take the bite off the coffee with an added hint of caramel.

    "I''ll be right back."

    He felt a small sense of pride. He''d navigated a conversation without embarrassing himself or getting mind fucked.

    At least, he didn''t think so. Jack ran through the conversation, and nothing came up hazy. There was no dropping rush in his stomach that normally came when thinking about past conversations with Farragut. Was he in the clear? He wasn''t about to make eye contact just to be certain. He was pretty stupid, but not that stupid. Normally.

    Augie returned with a pair of mugs, and Jack eyed the one set before him, immediately recognizing the standard caf¨¦ latte. No frills, no experimenting, no excitement.

    "Thanks," he said and took a sip. No surprise flavors. Not even a shot of the hazelnut syrup Missy had been trying to talk everyone into. Temporary, convenient, and low effort, Jack reminded himself.

    "Have you been to Le Noir Polet?" Augie asked, his eyes lingering on the front window, tracking people as they walked by.

    "Not really." Not exactly a lie. Jack hadn''t physically been in the restaurant.

    "Would you be opposed to joining me for dinner tomorrow night?"

    Jack had been hoping for a little more of a buffer between meetups, but he didn''t want to ruin his chance at a distraction. A distraction that reminded him of his ex, but it still counted on some level. He was sure of it.

    "Sure. Yeah, that''d be...nice? I can meet you there after work. After I get cleaned up." After he spent the whole day fretting.

    "I''ll meet you at seven? Will that be enough time?"

    Resisting the urge to back out was harder than Jack was expecting. "Seven works for me."

    "Wonderful!" Augie rapped his knuckles lightly on the table before pushing away. "Abiento, Kyle!"

    "Wha¡ª" Right. Fake name. That was going to be awkward. But since Augie wasn''t sticking around, he should be okay. He would just have to warn everyone. Or explain if it came up. "Sorry. Uh, later!"

 Distracted

    Augie was pretty nice. He was friendly, charming, non-committal¡­

    Distracted.

    Getting to enjoy Le Poulet Noir in the restaurant was almost as good as the takeout Kieran had treated Jack to. He ignored the guilt that came with thinking about his ex in favor of focusing on his discomfort of being surrounded by low conversation in the middle of a crowded and upscale restaurant. He only had himself to blame for his current situation.

    Augie had yet to notice, but that had to do with the fact that his attention was seemingly elsewhere. His glances easily shifted over the other tables and to the front of the restaurant, leaving Jack with an off-putting privacy.

    Whether Augie was expecting someone or paranoid about being a vampire out in public, Jack couldn''t be sure. He wanted to feel insulted, but his own paranoia and anxiety were taking up too much of his mental power.

    "So you said you''re here to visit your, uh, sponsor? Is that what you guys call it?" Jack asked.

    "Hm? Oh! Yes, when in public, we''ll use any variety of euphemisms to refer to our extended relations," Augie happily replied.

    "And have you sponsored any people?"

    "Yes." His reply was hesitant, and he sighed before continuing. "A few years ago. She¡­ It did not end well."

    "Did you do it wrong? Sorry, I don''t know how this works," Jack said, dropping his eyes to his plate. And did he really want to know? He didn''t need to know the ins and outs of how vampires infected someone and essentially bred.

    "The only thing that can go wrong is choosing the wrong person." Augie frowned at his wine glass. "Religion doesn''t mix well with the prospect of unending life," he quietly added.

    "Sorry."

    "She didn''t strike me as the type, but, upon further reflection, I suppose there were signs past all the leather."

    "Leather." Jack''s imagination drew up a biker chick with large cross earrings. There was also a vague memory of leather pants and his absolute refusal to ever wear them. He did his best to breathe slowly and distracted himself with the rest of his wine.

    "I met her at a dungeon," Augie clarified, his voice dropping to a whisper just before their waiter dropped by to refill drinks.

    "Uh¡­ Oh. Okay." The waiter was a good ten feet away before Jack had the courage to keep up the conversation. "That kinda place."

    "I do believe you''re familiar with the symptoms associated with my condition?" Augie''s smile was soft and teasing.

    "Yeah. You said. Kinksters. Hiding in plain sight or something." The burning sensation of a bright blush crept across Jack''s cheeks and up his ears. He was thankful for the dim lighting, but the thought that everyone could see him stabbed at his gut. He resisted the urge to slouch further into his seat and bury his head in his hands.

    Augie''s smile widened as his eyes swept over the other tables. His attention settled back on Jack. "Finding partners who like to roleplay and think vampires are sexy also helps."

    "I''m not into that," Jack hissed, leaning forward.

    Augie laughed and waved away Jack''s concern. "I know, darlin''. You''re safe from me."

    "Sure." Jack wanted to believe Augie, but, in his experience, vampires were liars.

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    He was an idiot for giving yet another one a chance. He was lonely enough to enjoy Augie''s company and light attention. There was something about being near a warm body and only having to commit to the conversation in short bursts. He could have done without the conversation drifting off into uncomfortable areas, but he had a bad habit of saying the wrong things.

    He could see himself being friends with Augie, but his imagination couldn''t scrounge up anything that came close to the fantasies he had about Kieran. He sighed into his drink. Temporary was a good thing, he reminded himself.

    ---

    The small houses lining the street weren''t as inviting as Jack had been hoping. Tara''s home sat nestled between a pair of houses that had been converted into a record store and a clothing boutique. It was his sanctuary after his date, but as Augie''s white rental sedan pulled up in front of the house, all he could see was an impending interrogation. He never thought pastel blue could be considered a dark omen, but the sinister shadow of the old maple tree in the front yard was proving him wrong.

    "This is a nice location," Augie commented as he looked up and down the street.

    "Yeah, my roommate picked it for the view." He hoped he wasn''t bringing danger to Tara''s doorstep, but there was no way in hell he was going to bring Augie, or any other vampire, anywhere near his apartment anytime soon.

    Augie leaned in, and Jack resisted the urge to cringe away. He missed Kieran''s careful advances. He missed being with someone who had an idea of how fucked up he was. Pretending to be a normal person capable of being in a normal relationship was taking every ounce of energy he had.

    Soft lips pressed against his own, thankfully not aiming for anything deeper. The kiss was so light and gentle, Jack would have considered it sweet if it didn''t feel obligatory.

    Augie pulled away and smiled. "How about brunch on Sunday?"

    Sunday. That gave Jack a whole day to himself to recover. "Yeah, I''ll meet you¡­ Somewhere."

    "I had Lola''s in mind."

    Jack had heard good things about their screwdrivers and mimosas. One little drink in the late morning wouldn''t hurt anyone.

    "Yeah, that sounds nice. Um¡­ Ten? Does that work?"

    Augie briefly looked away, and his grin grew brighter. "That will be perfect. Goodnight, Kyle."

    Jack''s stomach lurched at the fake name. "Yeah, g''nite," he said with a forced smile as he let himself out.

    He did it. He survived a real date. Surprisingly, he had a decent time. He should feel proud of himself, not like he just escaped. He''d barely made it over the threshold before Tara spoke up.

    "So? How''d it go? You have fun? You finally gonna tell me Mystery Man''s name?" Tara asked from where she stood by the window, watching Augie''s departure.

    "Good enough? His name''s Augie."

    She turned to face him with a smirking sneer. "Augie? Seriously?"

    "I think it''s short for August?" The name pinged a memory, but he couldn''t place it.

    "I don''t trust people named after seasons or months, and neither should you," Tara said as she moved to sprawl on the couch.

    Jack''s shoulders slumped in defeat. "I picked bad again, didn''t I?"

    "I didn''t say that."

    "You just did!"

    "His name''s weird."

    He crossed his arms as he dropped onto the couch beside Tara, a defensive urge to snap back squirming in his chest. A lot of people had weird names. Most likely, it was a normal name back when Augie had been born. "It''s probably an old family name."

    "Whatever, Soup Boy," Tara said dismissively, unmuting the TV.

    Jack frowned, wracking his brain for the reference. On some level, he got the joke and understood it for the loving jab it was, but he couldn''t make the connection. On the tip of his tongue was a retort.

    "At least I wasn''t named after canvas," he said. It made no sense to him, but it felt right. It was the same way he felt when he had the urge to get something with a jackalope on it. He pulled out his phone and made a note of the thought.

    He glanced through the rest of his notes. He couldn''t recall making most of them.

    "Speaking of new boyfriends, playing substitute is paying off," Tara said, bumping her shoulder against Jack''s. "Shane is a toned and tan yoga god. He''s trying to move front and center to show off, but Sara is territorial as fuck."

    "Shane? And you''re complaining about Augie?"

    "You haven''t seen his muscles. And the way he moves. You just know he''s gonna be good in bed. I wonder if he''s a dancer."

    Did the way people move give away their history? Jack didn''t think Kieran moved like a vampire or a farm boy. He needed to stop watching sheep shearing videos.

 Encounter

    The plan was for coffee and brunch at a fancy little caf¨¦.

    A caf¨¦ on the other side of the park.

    "I thought you wanted to go to Lola''s?" Jack had been looking forward to it and had built himself up in preparation. He was used to disappointment, but it stung differently this time around. He was unaccustomed to the mix of frustration, disappointment, and anger. He reminded himself that it was still free food.

    "So did I," Augie replied, his voice jaunty as his eyes roamed over a passing group. He lingered on a tall teen with curly black hair then shook his head. "I seem to have mixed it up with Bricked and Baked."

    "I don''t see how," Jack mumbled. The marketing between the two was completely different. Their websites were different. Bricked and Baked had his fingerprints all over it, and he had an employee discount despite insisting it wasn''t needed.

    He almost tripped as Augie wrapped an arm firmly around his shoulders, pulling him in tight. He tensed up, hoping he could pull away without making a scene.

    Unfortunately, a witness to his would-be escape was swiftly approaching, frowning down at his phone. Recognition suffocated Jack. He kicked his own heel and would have face planted had Augie''s hold not been so tight.

    Kieran glanced up and slowed to a stop, his eyes wide.

    Jack had never seen Kieran look so shocked and hurt. He shouldn''t feel guilty. They weren''t dating. He had every right to see another man. Or vampire. Could they sense each other in some way? Was that why Kieran''s wide eyes flicked between the pair?

    He should say something. Preferably something not stupid, so keeping his mouth shut was in his best interest.

    "Kieran O''Byrne, how have you been?" asked Augie, chipper as could be.

    "Mr. Caldwell. This is a surprise," Kieran said in a clipped tone. He gave his phone a final glance and sighed before tucking it into his coat pocket. "I was unaware you were in the area."

    "I''m visiting my sponsor. She mentioned you set up shop here. I keep meaning to drop by, but I do find myself rather distracted lately." Augie rested his head against Jack''s as he smiled at Kieran.

    Kieran''s eyes narrowed, and he raised his chin. "I see."

    "Oh, and where are my manners? Kieran, meet Kyle. We''re on our way to brunch. I would love to invite you and catch up, but I know you''re such a busy man."

    Jack dropped his gaze to the ground as his face burned under Kieran''s curious stare. He was allowed to have a rebound relationship under a fake name. He was allowed to go on a walk with his current weirdo boyfriend and be seen by his ex weirdo boyfriend.

    All his problems would be solved if he laid off the weirdos. And the vampires.

    "Yes. I suppose I''ll have to settle on hearing all about your recent travels secondhand from Miss Benoit tonight," Kieran said quietly.

    "Tonight," Augie repeated, the joy and color quickly draining from him. His grip on Jack loosened.

    Kieran''s eyes narrowed and a brow raised. The barest hint of a smile formed. "She likes to keep an eye on me. I find it easier to check in rather than have her show up unannounced."

    Augie dropped his arm and took a step back. "Of course. My, how time flies. It is a terrible shame I can''t stay to chat, but I do find myself in a bit of a hurry. Have a good day, goodbye!"

    Jack turned and watched as Augie hurriedly walked away. He spared a glance as Kieran moved to stand beside him.

    "He¡­ He just...left?" Jack looked up at Kieran, whose eyes were still following Augie''s retreating form in disapproval. "He left me?!"

    "He does that," Kieran flatly replied. He looked down at Jack, his expression somewhere between concern and longing. "Is he treating you well, Kyle?"

    "I uh¡­ I panicked. And I haven''t exactly gotten around to fixing it. We just started dating." Jack dropped his gaze to the top button of Kieran''s navy blue coat and shrugged. "He hasn''t fucked with my head yet. So he''s already leagues ahead of you."

    Kieran sighed and nodded. "Then I wish the best for you both," he said and turned away.

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    Jack was being unfair and hitting low. "Wait. Kieran, I¡­" He almost reached out, but turned the movement into shoving his hands into his pockets. "This is just a Christmas fling sorta thing. I''ve got too much baggage for him to stick around longer. Or to really worry about him knowing my name."

    "He might surprise you."

    "You don''t sound too sure about that." Unless Kieran was purposefully misleading him. Either way, he didn''t want to think about it. "You, uh, look good. Like always."

    "I would say the same for you, but I would call it ''miserably put together.'' No more street urchin chic?" Kieran said, gesturing to Jack. His smile widened as Jack shifted his weight and fought against a grin, trapped between preening and hiding.

    "Candy finally got me into one of her boutiques. And clothes that fit." Jack tugged on an earlobe and ran his fingernails beneath the earring. He missed being able to hide behind his hair.

    Kieran''s smile was light and teasing, and not doing Jack''s thoughts any favors. This was not the goal for his mistake of a makeover, and he shouldn''t feel like it was the only positive he''d encountered.

    "You clean up nicely," Kieran said, his voice soft. He glanced to where Augie had vanished. "Would you care to accompany me to Lola''s? I''d be happy to buy you lunch or a drink. Since your date seems to have abandoned you. They offer a lovely mimosa."

    "I wanna say yes, but¡­" Jack slowly shook his head as he looked down at Kieran''s brightly polished shoes. He needed to learn to take care of his own shoes before they got too scuffed up.

    "I fucked with your head and lied to you," Kieran said, the corner of his mouth lifting.

    Jack choked on a laugh and raised his eyes. "At least you''re not dressing it up with pretty words."

    "Lindsey has been persistent in pointing out my flaws."

    "Someone should."

    "I''m told there are a lot," Kieran said wryly.

    "Nothing physical." Jack mentally kicked himself. He wasn''t supposed to be giving Kieran compliments, no matter how backhanded they were.

    Kieran licked his lips then said, "I won''t bother you if you need to stop at the computer store."

    And just like that, all the good will he''d been feeling left Jack in a rush of paranoia. "You''ve been watching where I shop?!"

    "Lindsey has made it a point to tell me whenever Detective Fairchild makes an appearance," Kieran said, sounding more annoyed than defensive.

    "Your ghost is spying on me?" Confusion mixed with paranoia, leaving Jack with an uncertainty over who he''d rather have spying on him.

    "Be grateful she has a low range." Kieran''s accent kicked up a notch as he glared at a tree.

    "I''m guessing not low enough for you," Jack said, delight sweeping away the edges of his anxiety. Whatever Lindsey was putting Kieran through, he more than deserved it.

    "Her lovely visage has graced my bathroom mirror on more than one occasion."

    Jack melted under the lyrical cadence of Kieran''s voice. He shouldn''t be pining after his ex. And certainly not for something as stupid and shallow as an accent that was a dime a dozen.

    They both needed a reminder of how Kieran fucked up. "Not nice having someone creep on you in the bathroom, is it?"

    "I grew up with little to no privacy, so I can honestly say it doesn''t bother me as much as she believes," Kieran replied with a carefree shrug. "I''m not certain if she''d been a contortionist in life, or if it''s a new skill. I''ve found her in both the microwave and the dishwasher."

    Images violently crashed their way into Jack''s imagination, and bile threatened to surface. He swallowed as his throat closed up. "That''s great. Good for her."

    Kieran''s full attention came back to Jack, and he grimaced. "I apologize. I only wished to let you know that she has been adamant in displaying her displeasure. She deeply misses you."

    The ghost missed him. Jack took a breath then let it out. There was no point in asking if Kieran felt the same. And it would be better if he didn''t know.

    "As do I," Kieran added softly.

    Shit.

    "I''m dating someone else." Jack couldn''t sound less convincing if he tried. He had one foot out the door in regards to his relationship with Augie, and he''d already admitted that it was temporary. He shouldn''t have said anything. It was an open invitation, and both he and Kieran knew it.

    And he hated that he wanted Kieran to jump at the chance.

    "I suppose friendship is out of the question."

    "Do you actually wanna be friends?" Jack asked with an incredulous laugh.

    "Yes."

    It made no sense. Unless it was just Kieran weaseling his way back in, ready to pick up the pieces when Augie left. It would be a good plan, and Jack had conflicting thoughts on being all for it and wanting to run away. "Why?"

    "I don''t have many," Kieran quietly admitted, dropping his gaze. "One I once had has recently passed. I¡­ My pool of acquaintances appears to be thinning."

    "Oh. Sorry ''bout that. Uh¡­ I guess we could hang out? I could pop in or something?"

    "I''d like that," Kieran said with a soft smile.

    Jack picked at the seams inside his pockets. It didn''t count as a promise, and he had no obligation to actually show up. But he couldn''t bring himself to continue ghosting Kieran.

    "I''ll unblock you." The moment he said it, he felt nauseous with regret.

    "I''ll letcha reach out first, boyo."

    Jack choked on his spit and coughed into his sleeve. "Yeah. Sure." He glanced up, and his stomach flipped at Kieran''s mischievous smile.

    He fled before he could embarrass himself further.

    Or fall for Kieran''s charms.

 Unsaid

    We should meet up at the pond for brunch

    The restaurant, not the water

    The familiar tightness in Jack''s chest was almost comforting. He should have felt proud of himself for having a small social life instead of constantly hiding away and avoiding the world at large.

    tomorrow?

    Yes! They have a lovely view of the actual pond they call a lake

    Will 11 work for you?

    yeah that works for me

    Perfect! I''ll see you there

    No offer to pick him up, so he didn''t have to go out of his way with an excuse or show up early at Tara''s house. He frowned at his phone as he deleted the conversation. He would have liked the offer.

    He stared at his list of contacts. He had several unread messages from Candace, all beginning with a variation of "Beware." It was an appropriate reminder that he decidedly ignored in favor of tapping on the contact listed as "Kiki" and unblocked the number. He hoped it didn''t count as cheating. He was temporary arm candy that wouldn''t be taken out of the package.

    k so ur unblkd

    hi

    There was something deeply wrong with him. Inviting Kieran back into his life was going to be a mistake. Inviting a vampire anywhere was a mistake. That had to be what the myth about inviting a vampire inside your home was about. Don''t tempt fate. Don''t give the bloodsuckers an excuse.

    Thank you. I''ll let you reach out on your own, my.

    Jack groaned as he dropped forward, nearly touching his head to his knees. He didn''t realize how much he missed that stupid pet name. Was it on purpose? That leftover "my" sitting so innocently at the end had to be on purpose.

    His phone pinged again, and he braced himself.

    I apologize. I would greatly appreciate it if an old habit would not be held against me.

    Was the apology real, or just a ploy to get Jack to notice? He hated not knowing. At least he didn''t have to worry about Kieran getting weird over receiving no response.

    He called up Sam, hoping to be berated or validated.

    "Fairchild."

    "Is it normal for someone to use a special nickname that might have romantic connotations after you''ve broken up?" A soft sigh in the background, and Jack felt better. He was making a mountain out of a molehill, and nothing weird was going on.

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    "I wouldn''t know. Maybe? It''s been fifteen years, and Meyers still calls me Forester. Does that count?"

    Jack didn''t think it was the same. Getting married and taking the wife''s name was different, so of course people would get confused. Or just belligerent and sexist. "I ran into Kieran."

    Another long sigh before Sam said, "Accident, or do you suspect¡ª"

    "No! God, no. No stalking from him," Jack quickly replied. "He was surprised to see me, too. Mostly because of Augie, but yeah."

    "Augie."

    "He''s a guy I met. A rebound guy. He''s just here to see family for the holidays or something."

    Sam had a way of drawing out the silence and getting Jack to confess to more. Jack bit his tongue in defiance and refused to give in. Sam didn''t need to know about vampires.

    "And you believe him?" Sam eventually said with a mix of patience and exasperation.

    "Wow. Thanks for making me question everything."

    "You wouldn''t be calling about any of this if you weren''t already questioning it."

    "You could let me live in my delusions for five minutes," Jack grumpily replied. He wanted easy answers and advice, but none of his friends or acquaintances had much to give. They also pushed him into making his own decisions, but his track record of decision making told him he shouldn''t.

    "You''ll figure it out. Tara''s usually thrilled when an ex slips up and calls her, so maybe you should see it as a good thing. If this really is a break."

    "It''s¡­ Fine. I''ll stick with Augie for now and see how it goes," Jack said. Having a plan and approval eased his anxiety. "I just feel kinda shitty for using him as a stepping stone. If that''s what I''m doing. But he seems all for it? I think?"

    He wouldn''t be surprised if they were using each other as a bandage for the gaping wound known as Kieran. Having someone else to distract you from the thought of running into your crappy ex made perfect sense to Jack. He was just as guilty and couldn''t hold it against Augie. Their relationship had the potential to go somewhere decent. Too bad he was still Kyle in Augie''s eyes. He should fix that. Having the same ex, Augie would have to understand.

    "You gonna be okay? If you need someone to watch from the sidelines for anything, then I can do my best to be there or coordinate with someone else," Sam offered, breaking Jack from his thoughts.

    "I don''t need an audience for when I crash and burn," Jack said in a rush. The thought of it made it hard to breathe. "You haven''t done that, right? No one''s secretly babysitting? I mean, yeah, good safety measure, but people. Watching. Seeing. They''ll know I suck more than they already think."

    "No one''s watching you." The soothing tone of Sam''s voice swept over Jack. "Tara''s asked for a conspicuous patrolman for a couple dates. They just sit on the sidelines and make sure you leave alone and aren''t followed."

    "I''m good. I''ll stick with checking in. Augie''s taking me to The Pond tomorrow." Jack hoped for praise or a warning. Or, if luck was really on his side, an excuse to ditch.

    "Candace likes their scones and biscotti. That Cat likes the lox I sometimes get."

    It was not the praise he was looking for. "Well, Samuel, I''m gonna let you go."

    "I''m not mad at you. Just avoid devils or whatever. She''s been weirdly insistent on warning you."

    "She noticed I haven''t been opening her texts." He knew he should have sent a non-committal response.

    "So the stones were right?"

    "It''s fake, and I''m predictable," Jack insisted. He didn''t need to look out for devils or demons or whatever Candace was fixated on. Looking out for people who had bad intentions went without saying.

    "In that case, have a neutral time on your date."

    "Hopefully. Thanks."

 Fishing

    The Pond was a small restaurant on the corner of a busy street. Metal chairs and tables were stacked up and chained to a wrought iron fence surrounding a patio looking out on the park across the way.

    Jack approached the restaurant and pressed his nails into his palms as he looked through the large windows. He found Augie already inside, seated at a table right by one of the large windows. People passing by would be able to watch them eat. The thought didn''t sit well.

    He couldn''t bring himself to ditch Augie or push him to switch tables. The questions wouldn''t be worth it. At least there weren''t any cop cars around.

    He walked through the door, hoping for a "seat yourself" sign, but was greeted by the hostess.

    "I''m here to uh¡­ I''m meeting someone," he said, pointing to where Augie sat.

    "Lucky you!"

    Jack did his best to smile. He told himself his blush came off as a result of the cold. "I guess. Thanks?" He moved past her to the table and joined Augie.

    The sidewalk was busy with plenty of window shoppers. He could do without a handful of them looking into the restaurant as they passed by.

    Augie''s attention moved from the window to Jack, and he lit up with a dazzling smile. "Kyle! You made it!"

    "Sure did. Uh¡­ I guess I wasn''t expecting a table this close to the window. At least the heat works?" It wasn''t much of a hint to move, and Jack couldn''t come up with a more obvious reason other than feeling exposed and under everyone''s scrutiny.

    "I love to people watch, and the park is beautiful with the dusting of snow," Augie said as he looked back out the window.

    "Yeah," Jack agreed as he looked out at the trees. Between the old street lamps adorned in red bows and garland and the frost-covered trees, it was a picture perfect scene. In the distance, he could make out a city worker on a ladder by one of the trees. "It looks like a Christmas card when they get all the lights up and we get a good snow."

    "A Christmas card¡­" Augie nodded to himself as his eyes ran over the trees. "I can see that."

    "Hey, uh¡­ Augie?"

    "Yes, darlin''?"

    A flare of irritation came with the endearment. It was so impersonal. It wasn''t about his blood, so Jack should be happy about it. "What was with yesterday?"

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    "Oh, with Mr. O''Byrne?"

    "Yeah. Him. You left in a hurry." For once, he wasn''t the one acting weird and running away.

    Augie shrank in on himself, and he shook his head in shame. "Oh, of course. I am so sorry about that. It has been a long time since I last ran into him. He is similarly afflicted."

    "I guessed as much." Jack was at a loss for how to get the information he wanted. He couldn''t just ask about what happened between the two without a good reason.

    A waitress dropped by and took their orders, giving Jack a little more time to come up with a good follow-up question. Nothing too obvious or prying.

    "Bad blood between you two?" he asked. It was an innocent question and standard curiosity. Anyone would wonder about Augie''s reaction to seeing Kieran. He shouldn''t have mentioned blood. He sipped at his glass of water and stared out the window. His mind kept repeating "blood" over and over.

    "Not exactly. We ah¡­" Augie sighed and shook his head ruefully. "We used to be intimate with one another. It ended poorly, and words were exchanged. Some of which I regret speaking. I do admit I can be a bit reactionary."

    Jack wanted to pry further and get a sense of how Kieran screwed up. Doing so would only prove to himself that he still held a flame for a stupid vampire. "That sucks," he said. He took another drink of water. He needed to work on his word choice. "Sorry to hear it didn''t work out. Maybe it was a generational thing? If he''s, like, way older or younger than you?"

    And now he was fishing. He could easily come right out and say he knew Kieran as well, and that Benoit had mentioned her sweet Augustin''s heart had been broken. Maybe they could even commiserate?

    But then he would have to admit that he''d given a fake name. Silence was the only option.

    "He wasn''t as committed to us as I thought he was. Our last night together was over a beautifully romantic dinner. Everything seemed perfect. We... There were no signs that¡­" Augie trailed off with a bitter sigh and leaned back in his chair. He frowned at his reflection in the window. "He just...just barricaded  himself in his little library and wouldn''t speak to me. Told me to leave, so I left."

    "Wow. That¡­ Shit. That sucks." Knowing that Kieran went from hot to cold in less than an hour was all the proof he needed that he dodged one hell of a bullet. He didn''t think he could handle that. Slowly losing interest? Sure. That happened all the time. People grew apart. Even a week of losing interest wouldn''t be ideal, but it would be something. What Augie had described was not what he thought he had signed up for. No wonder Benoit hated Kieran.

    Augie gave Jack a sad smile. "I''m fine. I''ve healed. Or so I thought. Seeing him again hasn''t been easy." He shifted his gaze to the table, looking like a textbook example of misery.

    "I bet." Jack could relate. Seeing Kieran again brought up too many conflicting feelings. "Sorry I brought it up."

    "Again, I apologize for leaving so unceremoniously."

    "No, I understand running away," Jack said with a quick shake of his head. He avoided Augie''s eyes as the other looked up with a grateful smile. "Seeing an ex in the wild is hard."

    Too hard. But still kind of nice.

    He had a problem.

 Package

    When Jack had been invited to have dinner with Sam and Candace, he hadn''t been expecting a large box tied with twine to be waiting for him. A pile of cards or rocks, sure. He approached the kitchen table and frowned at the package before looking back at Sam in confusion. "I didn''t order anything."

    "O''Byrne dropped it off at the station," Sam said, sending the package a critical glare. "Linda thinks she''s in love. Mister Lucky Charms is quite the charmer when he wants to be. Couldn''t even give him a sour look without someone asking questions. He even had Cathy swooning."

    "She''s the grumpy one that thinks I''m stealing pens, right?" Jack asked as he moved around the table, warily eying the box.

    "If you can''t put effort into your appearance, what''s to stop you from being a klepto?" Sam said with a sly smile. "Using you as exposure therapy has done wonders. She waited a whole five minutes to confiscate the pen jar when some kid came in the other day."

    Jack wrapped his fingers tightly around the strap of his laptop bag as he licked his lips. Sam''s light conversation did little to ease his nerves. The gift had to be some sort of peace offering that he didn''t want and wasn''t prepared for. "You open it."

    Sam shook his head and cut the twine. He lifted the cover and frowned, his lips pulling back in disgust.

    "Well? Is it flowers or limbs?" What would he do if Kieran had sent him a gory threat? He couldn''t do the same thing as last time and ignore a decapitated rabbit. His breath caught at the thought, already slipping away. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and made a note, swallowing against the disgust. On the bright side, he was getting better at holding onto the random memories.

    "Limbs?" Sam repeated in alarm.

    Jack slowly looked up, guilt clear on his face. "Er¡­ Like in the movies. And like the last time I had a weird boyfriend," he reluctantly admitted. And definitely not like there potentially being evidence of dismemberment in Kieran''s apartment.

    "Well, it''s neither." Sam set the lid down and pushed aside a protective layer of tissue paper, revealing the tribal mask Jack had become obsessed with.

    "Oh, fuck you, asshole!" Jack leaned over the table to get a better look at his inanimate friend. Vacant holes stared back at him. Old wood worn down with age and suspiciously real teeth drew him in, begging to be touched.

    "Sorry."

    "No! He¡­ God, what the hell?! I can''t accept this! I have to give it back. Shit! That was probably his plan. Insurance to make sure I showed up." It was worse than the rabbit. There was no ignoring the thoughtful gesture. He clutched his bag''s strap tighter, resisting the urge to pull the mask free from the box.

    "Unless he thought you actually wanted it," Sam said with a hint of uncertainty as he pushed more tissue paper out of the way.

    "Of course I want it! That''s why he''s using it to bribe me or lure me in. And if this really is random, then what about Christmas? I''m not used to having a rich boyfriend!" Jack waved his hand between himself and the mask. "Ex. Friend. Whatever. I kinda like that he wants to spoil me, okay? But issues."

    Sam''s face was neutral as he watched Jack''s hand flail around in a failed attempt to convey his internal struggle. "Do you want me to take it back to him?"

    Jack stared at the mask''s gaping maw. "No. I wanna sit on it for a while."

    "Seriously?"

    He let out a heavy sigh and shifted his weight, looking away. "I just want it on my shitty wall for a week. Maybe that''ll devalue it. It''ll serve him right."

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    Sam tapped his fingers on the table and shook his head. "Are those real teeth?"

    "Maybe?" Looking back at the mask, uncertainty gripped Jack''s lungs. "Maybe I don''t want this on my wall. I don''t think he''d give me anything haunted or cursed."

    Giving in to temptation, he reached into the box and brushed his fingertips against a carved line cutting across the mask''s forehead. Technically, it was his, and he was allowed to touch.

    "Do you wanna do anything about him?"

    "Watch him cook while he recites the phone book?" He forced a cough and scratched at his neck as he looked away. "Sorry. No. I''m fine. I''m handling this. Dating Augie''s putting things into perspective? Like, Kieran wasn''t exactly bad? I''m just really fucked up."

    "Don''t blame yourself for your breakup."

    "Well¡­ Break," Jack insisted. "With a lot of space."

    "I can go with you to drop it off."

    Jack dropped onto a chair and scratched at the side of the box. He could do this on his own. He was an adult and able to take care of his own problems. If only he could pull himself together enough to believe it. "Thanks. I''ll be fine."

    "Will you?" Sam took the chair across the table and leaned on his elbows, giving Jack a hard stare.

    "I''m not so sure about Augie," Jack quietly admitted.

    "The temporary boyfriend."

    Jack nodded. "I gave him a fake name, and I kinda feel bad about it, but not really. And I don''t really wanna tell him my real name."

    Sam closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "Has he done anything to make you feel unsafe?"

    "No? I panicked. Bad. For reasons."

    "Reasons?"

    "I might have a type? And it''s¡­not bad. Just weird." The divots in the table provided a temporary distraction as he sorted out his thoughts.

    "And that type would be?"

    There was no way Jack could admit that he had a habit of dating vampires. "Uh¡­ Someone into me in a threatening and non-threatening way?"

    Judging by the way Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, Jack should have gone with the vampire explanation.

    "Jack, you open your mouth and say things that make me fear for your safety. You know this, right?"

    "I fear for my safety, too," he quietly admitted. He didn''t have a habit of making good decisions, but he would like to think he was doing better.

    "Should I start checking in with you more often?"

    "No. Maybe."

    "I''ll take the mask back to your ex."

    The way Sam said "ex" added a finality to the relationship that Jack should have been ready for. "I''ll take it. I need to talk to him anyway. In person. Since we''re trying the whole friends thing."

    He looked up and immediately regretted it. The level of disapproval set his teeth on edge. "Look, you don''t need to be all ''he hurt you, so I hate him'' about him. I hurt him back, and I hit him pretty low where he can''t exactly help it, and now I''m being a hypocrite. Just lemme figure it out."

    "And what can''t he help that you''re apparently okay with now?"

    "Neck fetish," Jack replied, going with the first excuse that made any sort of sense. "It reminded me of Farragut, and only got worse after¡­ After."

    "And the lying?"

    "So he knew about the scars, but was waiting for me to say something, and instead of coming out and being honest about that, I came out with being honest about something else. Kinda threw him off, and that threw me off." Jack frowned and quickly looked away from Sam''s incredulous stare.

    "I know you either make things sound worse than they are or nowhere near as bad, but this is¡­" Sam broke off with a frustrated sigh and ran his hand through his hair. "Which way are we going?"

    "Meet in the middle?" Jack shrugged and pulled the box with his mask closer. Things were a little more in the open, and he felt better for having a chance to come clean to some extent.

    "I''m not apologizing to him," Sam insisted with the petulance of a toddler.

    "You don''t gotta. He has experience with overprotective friends."

    "Of course he does," Sam said under his breath. He stood and headed to the door, patting Jack''s shoulder on the way. "I''m cooking salmon tonight. You can keep Lady Cadence entertained."

 Pride and Punishment

    The glass coffee table between the couch and fireplace in the living room served as the showcase for Jack''s impending doom. The mix of Christmas and Yule decorations brought little comfort with each flip of a card. The Devil grimaced at him from the center, surrounded by other familiar faces and what looked suspiciously like glitter made of stars and moons.

    He pulled his eyes away to take in how comfortable Candace looked, sprawled across the floor between a couple of sparkly throw pillows. The fireplace glowed behind her, giving her hair an ethereal quality.

    He wanted to curl up in a loveseat beside a fireplace and listen to someone reading a book. He looked back at the tarot spread and rolled his eyes when the King of Pentacles made an appearance. Even though he had seen her shuffle the cards, he wouldn''t be surprised if Candace found a way to throw the smug looking bastard of a card into the mix.

    Candace flipped the final card in the spread and let out a fast puff of air before looking up. "You''re not going to like what I have to say."

    "When do I ever like what these stupid cards say?" Jack grumbled.

    "He doesn''t mean it, he''s just stressed," she said to the stack of cards still in her hand. She adjusted her position between her pillows, straightening her posture and taking on her official tarot voice. "The future holds many¡ª"

    "Can we just get this over with? Why''s the devil after me?" He looked away from Candace''s frown.

    "The Devil is not after you."

    "Fine. Bad luck or whatever. Sam already warned me about it."

    Candace shook her head and shot a frustrated pout in the direction of the kitchen. "Change." She narrowed her eyes and raised her voice. "Jack needs to be prepared for change!"

    "The weird vase on the fireplace!" Sam shouted back.

    Candace looked up at the fireplace mantle in confusion. "The change urn? No, that''s not¡­ Whatever," she mumbled before turning her attention back to Jack. "Simply put, change is in the air for you."

    "That doesn''t make me feel better. I''ve had enough change. But I see that Kieran card is hanging out over there, so¡­ Yeah." He looked away as he trailed off, attempting to hide his embarrassment by pulling TC onto his lap.

    "Being associated with him will bring change. He could help you break free from your past," she replied, tapping one card then the next. She paused and tilted her head, running her eyes over the spread. "Or¡­ No. This makes sense. Anyway, are you talking to him again?"

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    "Yeah. We''re gonna try being friends. Which is a total mistake, but, hey, let''s make it together!" Jack said, using TC''s arms to emphasize. The tightness in his chest loosened as TC''s head bumped against his chin. "Y''know? Bonding over being stupid."

    "So we''re not mad at him anymore?" Candace asked, tone light and overly nonchalant.

    "No, I''m not mad-mad at him," he glumly admitted. "Yes, you can go shopping without guilt."

    "Great!" She clapped her hands together before pointing back to the spread. "Now, what you should be wary of is the reversed Six of Wands. Pride and¡ª"

    "Prejudice?"

    "Punishment, actually." She grinned as Jack looked away, grimacing.

    "I haven''t done anything! Who wants to punish me?" A flash of Augie mentioning his particular way of finding sexual partners popped into his head. He could recall Kieran teasing about something similar, and the whole thing put him on edge. A change to his life would be to cut out vampires entirely.

    "Not like that. It''s more abstract. Upright, it represents success, so reversed it represents¡­" Candace smiled as she waited for Jack¡¯s response and tilted her head forward to prompt him.

    "Being full of yourself? So if I end up being successful in something, then I shouldn''t take it for granted and gloat about it," he said, watching Candace¡¯s smile slip into amusement. He thought it was a good interpretation. It was broad and good advice for everyone. "Otherwise, karma will come and kick my ass?"

    Candace sighed as she shook her head. "You''re missing the point, but you''re getting there. For the most part. Unless¡­" She glanced back down at the spread, her brow furrowing. "Sorry. All the pieces are here, and they make sense, but I wanna say something else."

    "I need to take a long walk off a short pier. Got it." It would certainly be easier than anything else the cards had in store for him.

    "No. Just be mindful of your decisions and think ahead."

    "And we all know how good I am with that."

    "I think you''re doing well," Candace said encouragingly as she leaned forward and patted Jack¡¯s hand. "You''re a little mopey, but, overall, you seem a little more¡­there. Present. You still zone out sometimes, but you catch yourself. I really think this whole journaling thing is helping!"

    Jack was caught off guard by the observation. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d been that bad. "How much did I zone out before?"

    "Enough for it to be noticeable. Look, we all deal with trauma in different ways, and I''m so happy that you found a better outlet rather than just pretending the problem isn''t there and potentially exacerbating it," she replied as she gathered up her cards.

    "So confronting this shit is healthier. I still feel like a crappy borderline shut-in."

    Candace glanced up and shrugged.

    If anyone would be open to the fact that his memory issues were supernatural-based, it would be Candace. Her smile was open and inviting, and the temptation to spill everything was clawing at Jack¡¯s throat to get to the tip of his tongue.

    If he confessed about Kieran, then he would need to mention Benoit. It wasn''t his place to out one of the few people who had shown him nothing but kindness. He dropped his eyes to the table and leaned back as he stared at the Six of Wands before it was collected.

    Taking the mask back to Kieran was going to bite him on the ass, but it had to be done. There was no way he could keep it without it meaning anything significant.

 Soap Opera

    The antique shop''s brick exterior loomed over Jack as he stood on the corner, staring up at the window to Kieran''s bedroom. Too many thoughts and memories collided with each other, fighting against the fog that insisted Kieran wasn''t a vampire and nothing traumatic had happened.

    He clutched the large box that held his mask to his chest. He wanted to keep it. He could easily turn around and put his creepy friend right back on his wall where it belonged.

    And be reminded of Kieran''s cloying thoughtfulness every time he saw it. Somehow, it kept most of the nightmares at bay. He''d never been so sober. He was supposed to be thankful, not resentful.

    He had intended to wait a full week before returning the mask, but the two dates he''d been on with Augie in the meantime had him restless and wanting to see someone who fully paid attention to him. He had come to the conclusion that he was not interested in dating another flake ever again. It didn''t help that being in such public settings was wearing on him, chipping away at his mental state. He needed some time to himself without coming off like a reclusive asshole. He wondered if he could call Benoit and ask her to get Augie to lay off for a few days.

    "Jack!"

    Jack cringed and sidestepped away from Lindsey''s enthusiastic voice. "Hi," he softly replied to the empty spot beside him. Ice raced up his arm and across his shoulders, settling on his shoulder blades. He fought against the freezing pressure.

    "Come in through the back," Lindsey said as she pushed harder.

    "What? Why?"

    "Your boyfriend''s here."

    Of course Kieran was there. That was the whole point. No, he reminded himself, they were broken up or on a break or something. He had a different boyfriend. "I broke up with¡ª"

    "Not Kieran. That Augie Doggie guy."

    There was enough annoyance in her tone to make Jack wonder how familiar she was with Augie. It was possible she was annoyed on Kieran''s behalf, but, with her vindictive streak being a thorn in Kieran''s side, it felt more personal.

    "How do you know about that?"

    "Kieran''s been complaining about it," Lindsey airily replied. "I think he''s jealous. And maybe worried, but he''s too him to do anything about it."

    So much for only wanting to be friends. The possibility was still there if Kieran was truly worried about Jack''s well-being. Benoit spoke highly of Augie, and Kieran hadn''t said much against him. If anything, all evidence pointed toward Augie being a carefree flake. With his own memory issues working against him, Jack could hardly hold it against the guy.

    The pressure on his back shifted to a tugging on his sleeve. He was being harassed by a ghost, and he was dating another vampire. Why was he incapable of having a normal life?

    "C''mon. You''ll wanna hear this."

    The temperature went from frigid to cool, and Jack looked from the main entrance of the building to the mouth of the alley. Eavesdropping was a bad habit, and he knew he wasn''t going to like whatever he was going to find out.

    "God damnit¡­"

    The back door was already cracked and waiting for him to enter. Stomach churning, he ducked inside and prepared himself to hear all about how Kieran broke Poor Augustin''s heart.

    "This. This is why I never came crawlin'' back! Everythin'' has to be on your terms!"

    Far from what he''d been expecting, Kieran''s voice was loud, angry, and full-blown Lucky Charms. And, just like the cereal, Jack couldn''t tell if he loved it, or if it was too much to handle.

    "I said ''no,'' an'' you walked out. It wasn''t rejection. It was you suggestin'' to do somethin'' I was uncomfortable with. I needed a moment to m''self t-to¡­ No. You asked too much of me, an'' then you decided to leave an'' tell everyone I threw you out!"

    Jack carefully angled himself so he could peer through a display case of jewelry. Kieran held himself stiffly, pressing his back firmly against the wall behind the register.

    Augie moved around to the open end of the counter, trailing his fingers along the surface. "A slight overreaction on my part, I''ll admit. Emotions were high. We both overreacted," he said with a sweet calmness.

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    "Over¡ª Augustin, you¡ª" Kieran took a step forward then retreated to the wall again, jaw clenched.

    "We could try again?"

    "I''m involved with someone else," Kieran coldly replied.

    Jack''s stomach dropped before he could properly process the excuse. He winced as Augie let out a short and delighted laugh.

    "You''re joking. If either of us is involved with someone else, it''s me," Augie said, settling against the counter and blocking any escape Kieran might have had. "Not you. You don''t date. You don''t court. You just grab a snack and go on your way. No attachments. Easy peasy."

    "I do them the courtesy of winin'' and dinin'' first," Kieran ground out. "And why are we havin'' this conversation if you''re presently unavailable?"

    "For after," Augie said with a dismissive wave. "He''s cute, but I don''t see it lasting more than a month, and he knows it. I''ll get the kid a nice Christmas present and call it a day."

    "Won''t letcha bite him, so he''s not worth the effort?"

    "Okay, so I thought he was playing hard to get, and I can''t get him to look at me long enough to persuade him," Augie admitted. His smile held no hint of caring that he''d been called out. "But he''s handsome enough to make you remember seeing him with me. Enough to make you wonder. Kieran, we were good together."

    "Yes. Were. You left."

    Augie scoffed and pushed off the counter. "God, you and your abandonment issues! Not everyone leaves forever. Some of us come back."

    "But do I wantcha back?" Kieran countered, crossing his arms as Augie moved closer.

    "Kieran. I''m sorry I hurt you. I overreacted and lashed out. I wanna try again. If you''ll have me?" Augie''s tone was soft and sweet as he leaned into Kieran, his lips ghosting over Kieran''s.

    Jack''s chest tightened as he struggled between breathing and swallowing. Had he been on the receiving end, there was no way he would have been able to turn Augie down. All the right notes of sincerity and adoration were being hit. He chewed his lip as he watched Augie''s smile grow triumphant.

    "Don''t," Kieran warned, eyes narrowing.

    "Afraid you won''t be able to stop?" Augie teased.

    Kieran turned his face away and glared at the floor. "I''m afraid you''re only embarrassin'' yourself."

    "Kieran¡­ Just one kiss."

    "Tha''s how it starts, innit? Just one kiss. Just one hair tug. Just one¡ª"

    Augie pushed away with a frustrated growl. "Oh, come on! You''re the one who lives to please. Learn your own limits!"

    "I did. You didn''t appreciate it when I put a stop to your pushing."

    "Right in the middle?! We were having fun, and you panicked!"

    Breathing in deeply, Kieran made to move past Augie. "I am done with this conversation. You can show yourself out. This, for once, is the dismissal you claim it to be."

    "What? Hey! Kieran!" Augie grabbed Kieran by the wrist and pulled him back. "You can''t just run away from this. From us!"

    "Augustin. No. There is no ''us,'' and I don''t need you to help lick my wounds. Please leave," Kieran quietly replied.

    "What are you on about?" Augie asked as he tried to get Kieran to face him.

    Kieran closed his eyes and shook his head. "Lindsey, if you would be so kind as to show our guest out, I''ll getcha that bleedin'' card reader."

    A broken shadow formed and began to solidify behind Augie. Jack quickly turned away before he could catch a glimpse of Lindsey''s mangled form.

    "Who¡ª"

    "Hi!" Lindsey''s short and gleeful greeting held the hint of a gurgle.

    "Oh, dear God in Heaven!"

    A delighted echo of laughter drifted by Jack''s ear, and he cringed away, his eyes darting around his hiding spot. That was not Lindsey''s laugh.

    Warily, he crawled back into the storage room and shakily stood, quietly opening the back door. He leaned against the freezing bricks of the building and hugged the box he''d meant to return like a lifeline. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the invasive image of Lindsey''s face.

    Blood. Bone. Parts that had no right being on the outside.

    "What''s the skinny?" Lindsey asked, her voice soft and tinny. "You gonna break up with Mr. Confederacy?"

    Jack swallowed and refused to look up. There was no wet gurgle to her voice, and he was grateful for the small favor. "Did you plan this?" he asked, barely managing to keep his voice even.

    "Not really," Lindsey admitted with a frustrated sigh. "I lucked out with the timing. He''s been pestering Kieran every time he''s dropped in. This is the pushiest he''s been. I thought he was gonna do his heavy flirting thing. Y''know? Poke around the store, pick up random crap, and reminisce about the good old days. That, just now, was some soap opera shit."

    Jack nodded and slowly raised his eyes. "I''m gonna go home. Guess I''ll see or hear you tomorrow."

    "So we''re still friends?"

    He frowned and glanced to where Lindsey''s voice had been. She had done nothing but look out for him, helping in the small ways she could. "Yeah. We''re still friends."

    "I''m gonna crash. You take care!"

    Jack nodded and tried to ignore her phrasing. He pushed off the wall and unsteadily made his way out of the alley.

    He knew his relationship with Augie was temporary, but it was supposed to be due to the terms he''d agreed to. Being used to spur jealousy had never crossed his mind. Just like the last time he''d eavesdropped from a backroom, he was left with more questions.

 Mosquito

    A deep breath and a swift push to the door was all it took for Jack to enter the antique shop. A night''s sleep did nothing to calm his nerves. He dug his nails into the package he carried as Kieran looked up, the wary smile turning genuine.

    Jack made his way to the counter, narrowly missing a hip check to a low bookshelf. He set the large box down and pushed it toward Kieran. "So, I brought this back."

    "Why? It''s yours," Kieran said, looking from the package to Jack in confusion. "I gave it to you."

    "We''re not dating anymore. I can''t accept it." Jack gave it another little push in Kieran''s direction.

    Kieran sighed as he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I''m allowed to give gifts to friends."

    "Yeah, like¡­" Jack couldn''t mention gift cards for the fear that Kieran would go overboard. The small smile made him certain that Kieran had something similar in mind. "Like a shirt or a book or something, not¡ª This costs too much."

    "My finder''s fee is outrageous, and I''m willing to haggle with those who know the true value of certain items. I spent fifty dollars on this, at most. That''s accounting for inflation. If I even paid for it. It''s hard to keep track of everything," Kieran dismissively replied, "which takes a fair amount of organizational skills. I have plenty of ledgers you can look through later, if you''d like. They have all the relevant information: dates, locations, and sometimes an amount paid. Provenance is a necessary hassle, but it is rather annoying when an item has been in my possession for decades."

    "Damn. You got it all covered. Only missing pics or something." Had he been a history buff, Jack would have jumped at the chance to get his hands on those ledgers. He still had an interest, if only to find out where Kieran had been throughout history.

    "Oh, I do have sketches and photographs for everything listed." Kieran paused, his eyes drifting to the side as they narrowed. His tone turned from light to bitter. "Any with accompanying photographs which have my face from around 1884 until 1909, you are free to burn."

    "Uh¡­" Jack had unwittingly stumbled across a sore point. Images of Kieran breaking into tombs alongside Victorian explorers pierced through the anxiety and straight into Jack''s mind and fantasies. He shouldn''t find the thought dashing and romantic. And he shouldn''t be thinking of disposing of Kieran''s photos by stuffing them into his pockets. "That''s gotta be a lot of stuff? Ever think of digitizing it?"

    Kieran blinked in surprise and shook his head. "Perhaps I could hire you to do it," he said, frowning. "You could make one of those databases? Forgive me, I''m not certain of your skillset."

    "No, that''s easy stuff. I guess I could come up with a basic quote or something?" Jack offered. Having a work relationship with Kieran could either be great or torturous. But in a good way. Candace''s warning of change poked the back of his mind. He might be able to get more consistent work with data entry, and having a legit business on his lack of a r¨¦sum¨¦ would look great.

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    He tensed as the familiar fuzziness mixed with a drop in his stomach. He pulled out his phone and made a note, pointedly ignoring the concerned look on Kieran''s face. "I can come up with a quote for you after I know what sort of work it''d be. Just getting the whole thing set up for data entry will take the most. Once I get it working properly, it''s just scanning, typing¡­ Maybe updated photographs down the line?"

    Kieran smiled brightly and shoved the box back to Jack. "This can be your trial run," he said, his smile taking on a sharp edge. "If you haven''t seen it already, all the relevant paperwork is located beneath the mask. You may keep it as payment."

    The trap couldn''t have been on purpose, but Jack had walked right into it anyway. "You''re not supposed to be giving me some one-of-a-kind mask."

    "I own storage units all over the world. I have more where this came from. It''s hardly the rarest thing in the shop, and certainly not in the best condition compared to others I have." Kieran''s mischievous smile slipped into something more genuine. "In all honesty, this would truly be of great help to me. It needs to be done and would be consistent work for a while."

    "But I can''t accept¡ª" Jack''s mouth snapped shut as Kieran leaned into his personal space. He could close the small distance between them with a kiss. He definitely shouldn''t, but he could. It would throw Kieran off and do nothing to better his situation. He tucked the thought away for the next time he found himself single and in a similar position.

    Possibly next week.

    "Or, if you would prefer, I have a book you may be interested in. I have it marked at just over five hundred," Kieran said with a small smirk. "I believe a trade is fair as an advance on your paycheck. You may bill me for¡­whatever it is that''s involved."

    "Yeah. Trade. Paycheck." Jack swallowed as the fleeting thought of his rent being due either last week or next week bounced around his mind. "This is a business relationship. We''re not dating."

    Kieran gave a scoffing laugh as he looked away. "I know. I''m finding that I''m rather undatable."

    "Good for you. This doesn''t mean anything," Jack insisted, tapping the box. He hoped Kieran wouldn''t call him out on his lie.

    "Of course not."

    "Don''t say it like that! Stop being charming! You''re not charming, you''re an annoying mosquito!"

    Kieran''s eyes widened, and a surprised laugh slipped out.

    "I''m taking my mask, and I''m leaving," Jack said, snatching the box. "I''ll get this cataloged or whatever. See ya''."

    "I hope to see you soon. Good day, Jack."

    Jack hurried out the door. He did not miss how Kieran used to call him his sweet. He absolutely did not. Besides, he was dating someone else.

    At least, until he saw that someone else again.

    It might not be a wise idea, but if he was going to be used to make Kieran jealous, then he was going to forego his creamsicle spritz and let Mr. Caldwell know exactly what he was missing out on.

    Did that make him the bigger asshole? Did he really care anymore?

    Freezing cold wrapped around Jack''s elbow, distracting him from his anger.

    "Wait! Meet me in the alley!" Lindsey whispered into his ear. "I wanna catch up, and you don''t wanna look crazy."

    "I already am crazy," he quietly hissed.

    "Catch-22! So, no, you''re not. C''mon!"

 Back Alley Deals

    As far as alleys went, the one behind Kieran''s shop was fairly clean. The small bit of parking nestled between the brick buildings was packed with double parked cars bearing hanging tags from the local businesses. Kieran''s Mustang sat in an alcove next to the back entrance.

    Jack looked between the cars and dumpsters before settling on leaning against the wall beside the backdoor, giving the dumpsters a wide berth. He closed his eyes against the invasive reminder of his first impression on Kieran. The one positive to Kieran being responsible for getting his favorite bar shut down? No more vomiting in back alleys.

    "Well, here I am," he said to the empty space in front of him.

    "I missed you! I like the new hair."

    A soft breeze caressed Jack''s hair, and he shivered. "I missed you, too? I think?" He had an urge to hug her, but wasn''t sure how hugging a ghost would work. Asking would be too embarrassing.

    "I take it you don''t like the mask," Lindsey said as her voice moved back and forth in front of Jack. "I told him it was too creepy, but he just ignored me."

    Jack looked at the ground and shrugged. She wasn''t wrong, exactly. "I, uh, really like it. I love it. That''s the problem."

    "Weird. I guess that''s good. That he knows your taste?"

    He could easily imagine Lindsey frowning in disbelief. He was right there with her. It was a weird thing to get attached to, and most people wouldn''t get it for him based on how morbid it looked. He had his traumas, but sorrowful masks wasn''t one of them. It should have been the source of more than a couple nightmares, but its vacant stare and mouth held nothing but the reassuring comfort that someone paid attention.

    "Yeah, the asshole''s got my number, and he knows it," he admitted with a small smile. He wanted to be irritated. He wanted a reason to not be hung up on Kieran.

    "I guess you could do worse than him," Lindsey replied with a scoff.

    At least she didn''t say he could do better. "We''re not dating," he said. The more he said it, the less meaning it held.

    "I know. I heard. Neither were Tiffany and Justin."

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    "Thanks for the vote of confidence," Jack said, wishing he could throw a glare in Lindsey''s direction. He settled on the dumpster where he last heard her voice. He thought of the disembodied laugh from the day before and prepared himself for bad news. "Out of curiosity, how common are ghosts? If that''s not too weird to ask."

    "Common enough. Most people move on."

    "Are there any other¡­others around here? Ghosts, I mean. That. Those." He couldn''t have been more offensive if he tried. By now, Lindsey had to have an idea that he didn''t mean to be.

    Lindsey hummed in thought. "Not really. Jim''s attached to his old car. He shows up when his kid parks nearby. Why?"

    "I thought I heard someone laughing yesterday, and no one was there. But I mighta been hearing things?" Jack hoped it was all in his head. It was better than the alternative. Better than dealing with the prospect that ghosts were everywhere and watching his every move.

    "Coulda been Jim. He''s done EVP stuff before, but I don''t think he''s ever bothered to be more¡­aligned? In sync? Y''know? Here. With everyone else. But it can happen if there''s a good enough trigger or whatever."

    "Okay. As long as I don''t have any invisible stalkers, then okay." It was a small relief. He didn''t need to be haunted by the literal ghosts of his past. He wondered what it was that made Lindsey more aligned with the mortal world.

    "No, no, no. We''re all stuck with whatever we''re stuck to," Lindsey said with as much reassurance she could exude. "No free roaming vapors! That''s why old houses get a bad rep."

    "I guess that makes me feel better. Thanks."

    "Anytime! Ooh! You can take me to your apartment whenever, and I''ll check for spooks. Free of charge! I''m attached to my grandma''s locket, so I''m lightweight and discreet."

    That didn''t sound like a fun time to Jack, but Lindsey''s eagerness poked guilty holes into his resolve. He couldn''t bring himself to not help Lindsey go out once in a while. And if it came with the reassurance that he was living ghost-free, then who was he to say no? "Maybe? I''m not sure how I feel about carrying an invisible girl around in my pocket."

    "Give me enough warning, and I can look normal for a good couple hours."

    "Sure," he hesitantly replied. "Maybe we can catch a movie?"

    "I would love to see a movie!"

    "Would after New Year''s work?" He felt like he was asking her on a date.

    "Dude, it''s not like I''m stuck to a schedule or something. Just gimme a couple days'' notice, so I know to not wear myself out."

    "Yeah, I''ll do that," he said, unsure if he wanted to break Lindsey''s streak of harassing Kieran.

    "I''m so excited!" she squealed, her voice bouncing about Jack.

    Lindsey''s happiness was contagious, and Jack smiled in what he hoped was her direction. If his breakup with Augie went well, then he would celebrate by taking her out the next weekend.

 Bad Decision

    Lola''s was possibly the nicest caf¨¦ Jack had ever been in. Everything was pristine, the tables and chairs matched, and they had cloth napkins wrapped around their utensils. Compared to Jack''s usual haunts, the place was too good for him. He was thankful that his makeover made it so that he didn''t stand out.

    Jack had made the effort to show up first and linger around the pastry case and art pieces hanging on the exposed brick walls. He''d already been seated, but he wanted to spread his scent around in an effort to confuse Augie. He had no clue how scent worked, but he figured it was worth a try. He hoped it would be how some perfumes and the smell of pot lingered after the person had left.

    Could he trick a vampire? Kieran had been able to pick Jack out of a small crowd the first time they met. He should have asked how it worked.

    There were plenty of other people in the caf¨¦, and a particularly rowdy bunch of college students were gathered in a corner, bent over a board game and constantly shushing each other. If he screwed up to the point of being kidnapped, then he''d have plenty of witnesses. If he embarrassed himself, then he''d have to jump out the window and hope the shards took care of him.

    He looked out the window and caught a glimpse of Augie standing at the crosswalk. He took a deep breath and went back to the table. He reached into his pocket and surreptitiously spritzed his chair with his body spray before taking his seat. He busied himself with the menu and hoped he wasn''t making the biggest mistake of his life. He knew he was being stupid and taking a risk, but he''d taken as many precautions as he could. Or as many as he had thought of.

    "Morning," Augie said as took his seat. He glanced around the caf¨¦, eyes flitting between the other patrons and lingering on the couple now admiring the artwork.

    Jack''s chest loosened a bit. He''d been right to wander around. Everything was going to work out. "I was thinking of getting The Drunken Sailor. It''s lobster soaked in vodka."

    "Sounds good, I''ll have one, too."

    He''d been expecting Augie to be too distracted to catch the fake menu item, but the dismissive tone stabbed at Jack deeper than he''d been prepared for, reminding him that the only reason anyone was interested in him was to use him. Be it for his blood or as a tool, he wasn''t good enough for anything else. The thought was far more invasive than he''d been prepared for, and he pulled out his phone. He breathed out slowly as he made a note.

    He was worth more than just his blood. He had enough sporadic work to survive on his own. Even Kieran seemed like he was interested in more than what had initially attracted him to Jack. And Augie¡­

    Jack glanced up to find Augie frowning at the barista behind the pastry case. He tucked his phone away, the feelings of worthlessness mixing with anger. "So. You seem kinda distracted," he bit out sharply and a little louder than he''d meant. "More than usual."

    "Sorry," Angie replied with an apologetic laugh. "Just got something on my mind."

    Jack rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. "You sure it''s not just something up your nose?" he asked, riding the high of righteous anger.

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    Augie''s eyes widened, and he quickly faced Jack. "Y-you¡­" A wide smile slowly formed. "Why, darlin'', ain''t you just the sw¡ª"

    "Don''t you fucking dare call me sweet," Jack hissed, glaring at the hungry smile. "You don''t get to call me that. We''re through. I''m not some tool to make Kieran jealous."

    "Well, yes, he and I used to see each other," Augie admitted with the air of a victim, "but why would I be using you to make him jealous?"

    "Because we''re both hung up on the same guy, but at least I''m trying to make an honest effort to move on," Jack said as he leaned back. His so-called effort to move on hadn''t gone very far.

    Augie looked Jack up and down in confusion.

    The creeping feeling of being lucky to have any sort of attention was coming back. He forced it down, repeating to himself that Kieran was willing to stick around even without the offer of blood.

    "You and¡­"

    "Yeah!" Jack snapped. He stared at the table, wishing the intense burning of his cheeks and ears would stop.

    Augie went from perplexed to eager. "I hear polyamorous relationships are all the rage. We could work something out."

    Jack looked up in disgust. "What? Oh, my god. Fuck you. I''m not some fucking joint you can just pass back and forth!"

    "But he has had a taste, hasn''t he? You''re the one he''s getting over. What did he do to turn you away?"

    "I never¡ª" Jack eyed the waiter as he passed before leaning in and dropping his voice. "I don''t donate blood. Not to stuck up assholes, and not to you. Got it?"

    Augie chewed at his lip as he stared at the brick wall. He glanced at Jack and smiled as he caught Jack''s eye. Leaning over the table, he spoke soft and low. "Now, darlin'', maybe we should move on and talk about something else. This conversation isn''t going anywhere, and it certainly isn''t worth remembering."

    Jack nodded along. There was no point in talking in circles with some loser hung up on his ex. He should know, he was in the same boat with no idea of what to do and no one to really go to for advice. He wished his mom was still around. She would know what to do. Some piece of advice for her little jackrabbit.

    Augie should talk to Benoit. She was kind of like a mom to him. If Jack was remembering everything right.

    "Benoit''s like your mom, right?"

    There was a sharp sting of panic. He shouldn''t be panicked. No rapid heartbeat. No sense of impending doom. He was happily detached from reality.

    "You know Colette Benoit?" Augie asked, his voice cracking.

    "She likes me," Jack replied. "She gave me advice about Kieran. She even came with him to get me." He paused and frowned. He was up to four vampires. Were Benoit''s maid and butler vampires, too? She had implied as much. That got him up to six. "I think I know too many vampires."

    "Come now, darlin''. Let''s forget what we were talking about and get back to our lunch," Augie said. His eyes darted around the caf¨¦. "Colette does not need to hear about this. We''ll continue our lovely date and go from there."

    Jack took in the frantic look in Augie''s eyes. He''d rather not forget what they were talking about. The little caf¨¦ was supposed to be an easy location for a breakup. He''d done well and told Augie to take a hike. He didn''t want to lose that progress. And why did Augie want him to forget? Forget what? That Augie was just a pushy loser vampire? That he was using Jack to get back at Kieran? That the renewed interest was only due to Jack''s catnip blood?

    Icy realization filled his stomach as his vision sharpened. His breaths became shallow, and he discreetly brought up his left hand and bit down on his knuckle. He couldn''t freak out. Not here. Not now.

 Collision Course

    Everything was too focused and too jumbled. Too much noise from the college kids, and too little noise overall. The smell of coffee and baked goods that had been inviting and comforting now made Jack''s stomach turn.

    He kept his eyes glued to the table. They were talking about something. There was something about their conversation.

    A conversation about Kieran. A conversation he was supposed to forget.

    So much for not fucking with his head.

    He wanted to laugh. Cry. Scream. Anything.

    He settled on standing, cringing when the chair loudly screeched against the floor. Too much noise. Too much attention. He had to hold on a little longer. He needed to make it out and hide before someone noticed. Before he could fully panic about people noticing.

    The college kids were no longer shushing each other.

    "I have to go," he rasped as he grabbed his coat and clutched it tightly to his chest. He couldn''t trust himself to pull it on without fumbling. He would just deal with the freezing wind.

    He barely managed to dodge the waiter as he made his way to the door, and he could hear Augie pouring it on thick with his smooth drawl. They were all the same. Every last vampire was a selfish jerk out for themselves with no regard for those around them.

    He should have given up and let Farragut have him. He was treated well enough when he behaved like a good little pet.

    There was no point in fighting. No one cared enough to help.

    Jack closed his eyes against the wind and hoped no one could see the tears that fell.

    Hands were on his shoulders, and he stumbled in an effort to change direction. He was pulled tightly against a man''s chest and gently guided to the side of a building. He couldn''t deal with Augie chasing after him. He couldn''t deal with soft promises that everything would be okay. That he was safe.

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    It was all a lie.

    There was no safety for him anywhere. He should have behaved. He had known what to expect with Farragut. No surprises, no suggestions of sharing.

    "Just leave me alone," he begged. He shook his head in an effort to escape the fingers lightly brushing his hair.

    "I will, but I need to know you''ll be alright."

    Jack frowned in confusion, staring ahead and trying to understand what he was hearing and seeing.

    Farragut was dead, and Augie hadn''t been wearing navy blue. And he definitely didn''t speak like a damned leprechaun. That Irish lilt should have set him on edge, not ease his nerves. He groaned lowly and leaned back against the building. "Why are you here?"

    "I was on my way to Lola''s when I saw you leave," Kieran replied, his voice low and calm. "You looked distraught. I would have left you, but you were about to walk into the street."

    Jack started to laugh and broke down into sobs. He buried his face in his coat as he shivered. Now that he thought about it, almost everywhere Augie had taken him were places Kieran had once offered or mentioned. Outside of that one dive bar, Kieran liked ritzy joints.

    And he could take a guess as to why he''d been invited to a dive bar that just happened to have another vampire in it.

    "What the fuck?"

    Kieran pulled Jack into a loose hug. "It''s all right, s¡ª It''ll all work out."

    "He used me."

    "I''m sorry. I should have said something, but I didn''t wish to come off as jealous." He sighed and buried his nose in Jack''s hair. "More jealous."

    "Am I a bad person for skipping the body spray to break up with him?"

    Kieran laughed softly and kissed the top of Jack''s head. "Not bad. Vindictive, perhaps. I believe you''re well within your right to be."

    Jack closed his eyes, taking comfort in Kieran''s warm embrace. "God, I was so stupid. I just wanted him to know how much he screwed up, and then he wanted to fucking share me with you! Why am I so fucking dumb?"

    "Because you''re trying to catch up with me?"

    "I feel like shit," he mumbled into Kieran''s chest.

    "Would you like me to take you home?"

    Did he want Kieran to take him home? Whose home? He couldn''t bring himself to care. He was freezing, but he was too numb. "Sure."

    Kieran pulled away and brushed his thumb against Jack''s cheek. "You should put your coat on."

    Jack''s eyes flicked up and quickly settled on the edge of Kieran''s right eyebrow. There was too much kindness in those eyes. "Thanks."

 Reading and Ready

    The radiator pinged loudly, drawing Jack out of his pity party. He dragged his sorry ass out of bed and picked his way through the scattered CD cases decorating his floor. He turned back to survey the disaster area he lived in when he reached the fridge.

    It might have been a purposeful mess, but it was a mess all the same. It was bad enough that he felt he had to live in it, but subjecting other people to his eccentricities was something he wished he could avoid. He looked to the empty space where an oven should be, and his mood dipped further. He''d gotten a side table and placed a toaster oven and hot plate on it.

    At first, he thought it was a step in the right direction, but now he felt like it was a band-aid covering a gaping wound. He rubbed his shoulder, wincing at the faint throb.

    Kieran hadn''t remarked on the small upgrades, but Jack was still painfully aware of the way Kieran''s eyes had lingered on the stash of empty boxes filling the space beneath his bed. He didn''t have to explain that he found a new storage space for his paranoia. Kieran knew.

    He grabbed a beer and almost dropped it when his phone chimed. He shifted his hold and pulled his phone from his pocket.

    He grimaced at the text Candace had sent.

    Good news! ???? King of Pentacles is upright & in a really good position! ?? We''ve got an upright Two of Cups in the mix, so it''s a great time to hash things out! Friendship will be had! Just be careful of the Six of Wands and The Devil. ?? It''s in a weird position this time.

    my luck = too late

    augie fukd up

    dont tell any1 yet plz

    need 2 process

    Oh, sweetie, no!! ???? I''m sorry, I was so excited, this looked like such a good reading!

    Wait! It''s still good, out with the new-old, in with the old-new! Restart that relationship!

    soap opra land ovr here

    need doplgngr 2 com kilme

    mayb long lost twn

    No one''s out to kill you. ?? ?? There is some mischief/nuisance/protectiveness wanting to get involved, but it only shows up one out of every five or so readings. ?? Are you poking your nose where you shouldn''t?

    dnt u cal me out

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    Eavesdropping at the suggestion of a ghost was not poking his nose where he shouldn''t. And letting Augie get a whiff of his scent wasn''t kicking a hornet''s nest. He had so many regrets, and he knew he would make the same decisions again.

    He looked over Candace''s texts more carefully. Augie was definitely a nuisance. A selfish, lying asshole of a nuisance. He hated that he had a type. Why couldn''t he be into healthy, well-adjusted people?

    The thought made him wonder what was wrong with Sam. He was tempted to grill Candace for details of Sam''s faults beyond conspiring to get her license suspended. He resisted and settled on a familiar card.

    king pent lookd gud?

    Yes. Very good. ????

    that helps

    ??

    It was as much of a greenlight as he was going to get. Candace''s cards were dumb, but she had an uncanny ability of being spot on.

    Jack''s chest tightened, and he quickly typed up a message to Kieran.

    can we get lunch 2moro?

    wanna talk

    Of course. Where would you like to meet?

    how bout that dive bar?

    You may not feel comfortable there. Moonshine is frequented by a rather nocturnal crowd.

    Jack rolled his eyes and took a swig of beer. It was confirmation for what he already knew, but he could have done without knowing the name.

    i figurd as much

    also moonshine? rlly?

    y not drac casle? monstr mash

    I believe they wished to be obvious, not subtle.

    ur not funny

    may as wel show me off agn

    that''s wut u wer doin right?

    In a way, yes. Proving that you were accompanying me of your own volition has its perks.

    i totally didn''t rufie my date

    ^^that''s u

    Precisely.

    What time would you like to meet?

    noons gud

    meet u ther

    I look forward to seeing you.

    Jack sighed and stuffed his phone back into his pocket, confident that Kieran wouldn''t be offended at the lack of a proper goodbye. It was a soothing comfort that he didn''t have to pretend to be normal.

    He lingered on Kieran''s text. He was looking forward to seeing Kieran, too. Even if he wasn''t the biggest fan of being the center of attention, he liked going on dates with someone who acknowledged his presence beyond the bare minimum.

    Augie had fulfilled his purpose of putting things into perspective. Vampires were dumb and obsessed with his blood, and he knew Kieran would jump at the chance to get a taste. They also resorted to mind fucking way too easily. Much like how Jack defaulted to cyber-stalking. He''d gotten better, in his opinion. He did his best to stick to legal means. Sam''s heavy sighs and reprimands of staying out of people''s computers didn''t count.

    All-in-all, he knew exactly what he''d be getting into, but was he okay with the risks? Could he trust Kieran to not "nudge" his mind into a sense of easy compliance? Could he trust himself to not ask for it?

    He downed the rest of his bottle and contemplated finding it a home before tossing it into the trash. He distracted himself from the urge to dig it back out by performing his dailies for his stupid fairy game. He glared at the notification of an upcoming event, mentally preparing himself for Tara''s future demands.

 Moonshine

    Moonshine was just as dimly lit as the last time Jack had been there. His eyes swept over the other patrons as he followed Kieran to a booth in the far corner, wondering how many were vampires. He wouldn''t be surprised if there was a secret menu for the pointier customers. He didn''t think he counted as part of the menu, but he couldn''t be certain. No one appeared to be interested in him, despite not smelling like a bag of oranges. Kieran may have been making a declaration of non-coercion, but Jack was making his own.

    An annoyed sigh came from the bartender as they passed, but he was frowning at the waitress who shrugged apologetically before heading off to bus a table. Paranoia still managed to scratch its way up Jack''s spine and reassure him that the exchange was all about him and Kieran. Another quick glance, and he caught the bartender pulling out a box of lime Jell-O.

    He sat down across from Kieran, confusion and the craving for Jell-O shots taking over. "I¡­ I wanna give us another chance. In case you haven''t guessed that already," he said, hoping he could force himself out of his thoughts. It was too early to start drinking in earnest.

    "I would like that, but are you certain that''s what you want?" Kieran asked, clearly not caring that the waitress overheard as she dropped by and left a couple glasses of water and menus.

    "I dunno. I like being treated to nice things. I liked giving you that coin. I like that you remembered the dumb mask. I like being called sweet thing and shit, even if it is just about my stupid blood. It''s nice to be in a relationship. A real one where we''re both kinda involved? A friend with kissing benefits," Jack explained.

    He wanted what they used to have before he found out about everything, and he hated that he blamed himself for it. He knew it wasn''t his fault he was so paranoid. Digging into other people''s backgrounds and security systems? Sure, completely his fault, but he wouldn''t have done so if he already knew what had happened.

    He pulled his glass of water closer and sighed heavily. "It was just the lying. The mind wiping. You wanna creep on me? Fine. Just be honest about it. It''s not like I don''t do it, so there''s that," he said as he met Kieran''s eyes. He sucked on his bottom lip before settling his gaze on Kieran''s ear. "Don''t leave your phone alone with me if you value your privacy."

    "Oh?" Kieran tilted his head and smiled with a hint of mischief. He pulled out his phone and set it in front of Jack.

    Jack groaned and sank into his seat, firmly pinning his hands between his knees. "Shut up. You know what I mean. I fucking hate that I can see it from your point of view," he grumbled as the waitress approached.

    Jack glanced at her, wondering if she was a vampire or something else. She looked normal with her rosy cheeks and curly brown hair. Maybe she was part of the menu. He turned his attention back to Kieran''s phone, refusing to linger on the image of the young woman baring her throat for various customers.

    "Welcome back," the waitress said in a careful but friendly tone, her eyes went from Kieran to Jack. "Name''s Mandy. What can I get for you?"

    "A brain that works and some Jello-O shots? Sorry. No." Jack kept his eyes on Kirean''s phone before giving in and grabbing it. No PIN, no facelock, nothing. Just "swipe up to unlock" and a pretty green landscape. The least he could do was change that. Hell, Kieran would probably love having Jack''s birthday as a PIN. If only he could remember it. "That bacon burger thing and whatever''s on tap is fine. Thank you."

    "No pickle this time. Got it," she replied as she tapped her tablet. "Can I see your ID?"

    Jack''s chest tightened as his cheeks became unbearably hot. She remembered him. He barely remembered the layout of the bar. Was it a waitress thing or something supernatural? He jumped as Kieran''s foot lightly tapped against his own, and he shook his head. "I''m fine," he insisted as he handed over his ID, ignoring the temptation to check his birthday himself.

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    "And for you?"

    "Benoit suggested the fish and chips, but perhaps she wishes me ill," Kieran said as he slid the pair of menus to the edge of the table.

    Mandy huffed and placed a hand on her hip, throwing Kieran a dirty glare. "When you see Colette next, please tell her I''m not a babysitter for lovelorn stalkers. Or stalkers in general."

    Kieran looked away with an annoyed sigh. "He''s already cornered me, so he should no longer be a bother."

    "Yeah, we''ll see. Questions are bad for business. Next time, I''ll have Charlie beat that into his head," she said, tilting her chin to the bar.

    Kieran nodded in resignation then frowned. "If he asks after Jack, then I would greatly appreciate it if you let me know."

    Jack frowned, wondering who would possibly ask after him. Realization hit him, and all his idiocy happily pulled out his stomach. "Augie? He wouldn''t, right? He''s not gonna show up where he thinks I live, right? Do I need to warn Tara?"

    "Normally, no." Kieran glanced at the waitress and sighed. "His fixation would include you due to your proximity to me. I apologize for this¡­baggage."

    "I think my baggage has you beat," Jack mumbled. At least most of his baggage was dead. "Is being obsessed over people a¡­a thing?"

    Mandy snorted. "We don''t call ''em leeches for nothin'', sunshine."

    It wasn''t the most reassuring response Jack could have gotten, but the easy grin made up for it. Being easy-going and remembering everything had to be a waitress thing. It was something he could never do, and he had a lot of respect for those who could. He hoped Mandy the Waitress was similar to Missy the Barista.

    "He would, uh, be asking about a Kyle if he''s out to get me," Jack said, his eyes darting up and away to take in her reaction.

    "Smart!" Mandy turned her attention to Kieran. "Don''t screw up again," she said before leaving.

    Kieran sighed softly, staring at his glass of water with a neutral expression.

    Jack bit at his tongue before leaning forward. "At this point, it''s gonna take a lot for you to screw up." He hunched his shoulders as he slouched under Kieran''s concerned stare. "I mean, given my perspective on crap? I''ve been thinking, and it''s kinda a messed up view I have on the world, and I''m not giving up, exactly. I just, uh¡­ Yeah."

    "I''m the lesser of the evils you may encounter?" Kieran said, unable to cover his defeated tone.

    "No, that''s not¡ª" Jack crossed his arms on the table and buried his head as he groaned in frustration. He didn''t mean to come off as if Kieran was his only option. No matter what he said, that thought would always be there, festering between them. He flinched and relaxed when Kieran touched his elbow. Slowly, he raised his head and rested his chin on his forearms.

    Jack swallowed and shook his head, all his regrets weighing heavily on his shoulders. "Augie''s a fuck up. You know that. I actually thought we coulda been friends. Like, hey, pointy guys ain''t so bad. I feel shitty for using him to get over you and practice dating a vampire again, but he was upfront about it being temporary. I thought we were on the same wavelength. But then it turned out he was using me to get to you. I thought I was making progress and look where that got me. Invited to a fucking threesome. What the hell?"

    "He is impulsive," Kieran agreed.

    Jack huffed in amusement. "Yeah, he just popped right up in front of me at the caf¨¦. Kinda like you did, but way more friendly and casual than the smooth shit you were pulling."

    "Smooth? Certainly not enough to gain any ground. I had to resort to nudging, mind fucking," Kieran said, quickly correcting himself with a mirthless smile, "and still you turned me away."

    "More like I fucking ran for the hills," Jack said as he straightened up. It was a strange feeling not being called out on his tendency to run and hide. "Third time was the charm? Right?"

    "I thought it was rather charming," Kieran said, resting his head on his hand.

    A blush crept over Jack''s cheeks as he remembered the small kiss he''d given Kieran. He told himself it wasn''t weird and it made up for his crazy ass being crazy. And if Kieran was into it, it was a good thing. He wanted to dole out more impulsive kisses and get unfiltered smiles in return.

    They had a stumble, but they could still make it work out.

 Partake

    Their food came, and Jack resisted checking his burger for a pickle. He settled on an experimental bite, hoping the waitress wasn''t paying attention. He had enough vampires and spooks in his life watching his every move, he didn''t need to add questionable waitresses to the list. He also didn''t need to feel as if a potentially supernaturally-aligned waitress wasn''t a big deal.

    No pickle, no surprise ingredients, just a perfect burger that left him wanting more. He eyed Kieran''s plate, already planning on setting up a regular date night to get through the bar''s menu. If he could get over his vampire problem, then this place had the potential of being his new bar.

    It was quite possibly the dumbest idea he could come up with, so it was the perfect plan. What else could he do that was stupid?

    "Is there a way to tell Augie I''m pissed at him without dragging anyone else into it?" he asked.

    Kieran looked up with a raised brow. "You can write him a letter, and I''ll see that he gets it the next time he shows up in the shop," he replied with an underlying maliciousness. "I''ll help you write it."

    "Without rubbing salt in the wound? I mean, don''t get me wrong. I totally think fucking with my head is wrong, but the fact that you guys seem to default to that? And even Benoit''s all fine with it? It seems kinda¡­" Jack trailed off with a heavy sigh. "I dunno. I think I''m giving you guys too much leeway with this shit. I shouldn''t be making excuses for you guys. There''s something wrong with me. Why''d ya'' do it, anyway? The couch one."

    "Your scent is very enticing. At first, it was to get you to relax, then, well¡­"

    The way Kieran trailed off set Jack on edge. "What?"

    "Trust is hard for me. It started with my father, then my sire. Plenty of others as well. When I wish to know something, I ask."

    "And make it so people can''t lie. Wish I could do that," Jack said with a forced laugh. "So? That''s not exactly an answer."

    "It''s not much of a reason, but I was protecting myself. I did not wish to enter a relationship with someone who¡­" Kieran looked away uncomfortably. "Who possibly did not have tastes that aligned with my own. And then I found out your scars were inflicted by another against your will."

    "Wait. You wouldn''t date me if I was into BDSM?" Jack knew he shouldn''t be offended, but the slight burn of anger crept up his chest. He was used to his scars being a deal breaker for people, but not in the way Kieran had just implied.

    "We would have had a very long conversation. Light spanking is a far cry from whipping and blood play," Kieran quietly explained. "I''m not opposed to a bit of bondage and teasing, but I do not enjoy inflicting pain upon those who are undeserving. And even then, I''ve little tolerance for the sounds of pain. Especially within the context of the bedroom."

    "Uh-huh. And outside of the bedroom?" Jack''s grimace matched Kieran''s. He was getting better at reading between the lines, and he wasn''t particularly proud of the fact.

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    "I believe in a quicker death. Although, some corpses are undeserving of respect," Kieran said, his voice dipping to a restrained mutter.

    Jack had to have stumbled on a sore spot. An old argument was his best guess, but without knowing more about Kieran''s circle of acquaintances, he couldn''t land on whom it was with. Considering the era Kieran came from, stringing up a corpse at the city gate was probably normal. Or was it heads on pikes? Either way, it sent a message that someone with a more contemporary upbringing wouldn''t be into.

    His eyes narrowed as his train of thought poked a memory. "Oh, yeah¡­ Why''d you have to go and get my bar shut down? And don''t deny it. Messages being sent? I connected the dots."

    "It''s just as you say. There are ways vampires claim hunting grounds. I tend to hunt in areas with higher crime, and I have a habit of being rather flashy in my declaration, as some would call it."

    His favorite bar had closed down thanks to Kieran. Granted, the owner was a shitty asshole, and the world was probably a better place without him, but still. "I don''t know how I feel about that."

    Kieran nodded in understanding and breathed in slowly. "I am responsible for a few deaths in my attempt to keep you safe and punish those who hurt you," he said, closely watching for Jack''s reaction.

    Jack was both flattered and appalled. He was caught between a smile and frown, and he barely kept a nervous laugh from escaping. "Why would you tell me that?"

    "You wanted honesty," Kieran replied in soft exasperation.

    "Yeah, but¡­" Jack leaned back and searched his plate for an answer. They were supposed to be working through their differences and setting up solid ground for their relationship, not airing out the skeletons in Kieran''s closet. "I''m friends with a homicide detective. Emphasis on homicide. Which you fucking committed!" he quietly hissed as he leaned forward. "Shit! I can''t¡­ He''s gonna find out. My poker face sucks. Maybe being weird about you is a good thing. I''ll just not talk?"

    "I trust you." Kieran happily carried on with his lunch. He gave no outward care that anyone would overhear their conversation.

    Jack chewed at his lip. He liked the world better when it had clear cut rules. "I mean¡­ Okay, shitty people, but¡­ Well, people say forgiveness is its own release or something, but knowing Farragut is dead and not coming back lets me sleep at night. So I think I''m a little biased in the vigilante murder spree department. It wasn''t a murder spree, right? Sam was pretty busy in September."

    "Aside from the bar owner, those I''m responsible for looked like accidents or self-inflicted."

    He was dating a murderer. "Do I even wanna know how many?"

    "Less than five."

    So most likely four. "That doesn''t make me feel better."

    "I would say you''re feeling marginally better," Kieran said, gesturing to Jack with his fork.

    "Overall, yeah. I mean, I can''t really judge you. I killed a guy and fucking tripped in his blood. I have a body count, and I can''t talk about it with anyone. Except you, and you''ve killed people. For me. Which is weird." Jack ignored the bottle of ketchup and grabbed the mustard for his fries. After a moment, he grabbed the ketchup as well. Sitting as a glob next to his fries didn''t remind him of blood as much as he thought it would. "Can you just get me flowers next time?"

    "I would love to give you flowers," Kieran said, delighted at the prospect.

    "You drink blood."

    "I''ve been known to partake in a neck or two on occasion."

    "Partake¡­ Geez." Jack rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his beer to hide his small smile. He wished he could slip back into their relationship as easily as Kieran.

 Damaged Goods

    As weird as the date was going, Jack had to admit that it was probably the best one he''d ever been on. He didn''t feel the need to watch what he said outside of being overheard, and none of the other bar patrons appeared to care about his presence. It was a nice change from his last handful of dates with Augie.

    Jack''s eyes drifted around the bar and landed on a girl at a nearby table. He had trouble pulling his attention away from her and the bright green Jell-O in front of her. There was something off with the scene.

    She poked at the lime green gelatin that wobbled on her plate, and Jack narrowed his eyes at what appeared to be a goldfish trapped within. She looked normal enough: pale, skinny, kind of pretty with a long nose and what looked like greasy hair. He pulled his eyes away as she stuck a straw into the wiggling green mass.

    "Am I allowed to ask?" Jack whispered, tilting his head toward the girl.

    Kieran glanced over then sneered as she began noisily slurping up her Jell-O. "A Nixe who''s wandered away from her river," he said, loud enough for her to hear.

    Jack shrank in on himself as the slurping grew louder. "You don''t gotta be an ass about it." He pulled out his phone and stared at it before giving in. "How do you spell that?" he whispered.

    "She''s a river spirit. Relatively harmless to you," Kieran replied, smiling. "Not universally well-liked, but neither are my sort."

    Ghosts, vampires, and river spirits. Did he want to know what else was out there? And considering his blood, did he count as one of them? It was an unsettling thought that he was part of a community he''d never known about.

    "Neat," Jack said. If she was listening in, then he hoped it was taken as a compliment. "Say, uh¡­ Is this place people like me friendly? Like, could I come here and not be harassed? In more ways than one. It''s just everyone''s kinda minding their own business, and everywhere I''ve been lately is more about the mingling. And I like the waitress''s vibe. She''s friendly and goes away."

    Kieran gave a small frown before slowly nodding. "I can speak with the owner."

    "You''re not gonna get all anti-booze on me?"

    "Why should I? You''re an adult, and you''ve made your stance on vampires consuming your blood clear."

    "Er¡­" It wasn''t the reassurance Jack had wanted, but it made more sense than anything he could come up with on his own. He wasn''t planning on getting drunk to the point of his past exploits. Farragut''s decapitated corpse was a surprisingly soothing thought whenever the urge to binge drink came up.

    "I would, however, ask you to be careful and mindful of your surroundings. Moreso than you would at a normal bar," Kieran said as he looked over the other tables.

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    "Don''t overdo it and stay alert. Got it," Jack said with a firm nod. His confidence slipped as Kieran slowly shook his head.

    "Certainly follow that for your first few visits. However, do not ever forget to mask your scent when you come here alone. Even if what you use has worn off and barely hides it, you will still be sending a message and deter most of those who may show interest. Be clear and vocal if someone approaches you and makes you uncomfortable. Do not worry about being perceived as rude," Kieran explained as Jack nodded along, making notes on his phone. "Once you are established as a regular, certain others will be fiercely protective of you. If ever you need a ride home, I''ll come get you."

    "Thanks. I think." Jack looked up from his phone. He wanted to ask about what others would be protective of him, but he could recall times when Roger the bartender and even a couple regulars at his old bar had banded together to get someone to leave him alone. Sloppy drunks wanting a hug was enough to drive most people away. There was a strange comradery between that set of barflies, and he couldn''t wait to regain it. Drinking alone next to each other, ignoring each other, but still having each other''s backs. It had been great.

    Since Kieran was in a sharing mood, Jack decided to push his luck and ruin every fantasy and delusion he had. Friends warning him of his habit of self-sabotage did nothing to dissuade the growing urge. He needed a solid answer.

    "I''ve looked in a mirror. Face? Fine, whatever. But I know how messed up my back and arms are. Fuck. My arm still hurts when I move it a certain way. I''m damaged goods. So congrats on getting the ugly box discount."

    His thoughts were out in the open, and he was curious as to how Kieran would attempt to reassure him. He held his breath as Kieran reached across the table and took Jack''s left hand in his own.

    Kieran slowly pushed back Jack''s sleeve. He lightly traced the scar circling Jack''s wrist with his thumb. "I''ve seen worse. Much worse. I''ve seen men and women who have survived being mangled by machinery and weapons, he said in a quiet voice.

    Jack stared at his lap as he clenched his other hand and bit the inside of his cheek. He didn''t think he''d been blowing his scars out of proportion. They were gruesome and unsettling. How could someone be so dismissive when even doctors hesitated?

    "I''m not saying this to make you feel as though you''ve no right to keep them hidden, nor am I saying you are not justified in how you feel. I only wish for you to understand why I don''t see them as something to hide, and why I am not put off by them." Kieran squeezed Jack''s hand. "I see them as a mark of survival. Of how strong you are. Of what you''ve endured."

    Jack sniffed and rubbed his sleeve across his nose, briefly hoping he could spot clean it later to avoid the laundry room. "I just want a normal life. I wanna be normal. I wanna not freak out over stupid things. I don''t even know what you see in me past the way I smell. I mean, I''m okay, but not really worth the effort?"

    "I see an intelligent man who has managed to survive and overcome the obstacles placed before him." Kieran paused and waited for Jack to look up before continuing with a soft smile. "Someone who''s decided Kiki and Lucky Charms are appropriate nicknames."

    Jack''s stomach dropped. He remembered drunkenly texting Kieran, but he was certain he''d never let the Lucky Charms name slip. "You found out."

    "Detective Fairchild may have mentioned something when I left the mask with him." Kieran''s smile turned mischievous, and Jack braced himself. "Sure and begorrah, I''m not opposed."

    Jack laughed and wiped at his eyes. "Too much!"

 The Greatest Gift

    Snow was beginning to stick to the roads and sidewalks as Kieran drove Jack home. It was going to be Jack''s first winter with a proper coat, and he wasn''t looking forward to losing his excuse of it being too cold for him to leave his apartment.

    As much as he wished otherwise, and as much as he thought he''d been working on it, the thought of losing a good excuse to hide away made him anxious. Maybe he could sabotage his radiator or fridge.

    "Have you changed your mind, or do you still want to go home? I can take you wherever you wish. It''s no trouble," Kieran said, startling Jack out of his thoughts.

    "What? No, I''m good. I''m fine. Just thinking." Jack wasn''t thrilled that Kieran was able to read him, and he was confused on whether he should see it as a good or bad thing. He didn''t want others to worry about him worrying. "Sorry I''m such an overly anxious gremlin."

    "I might not be able to cure your anxiety, but I do like the thought that I can hold your hand and talk you through a particularly bad spell," Kieran said as he parked near the entrance of Jack''s apartment building. He turned and smiled softly at Jack. "That at the end, I get to hold you in my arms and let you take comfort in me."

    The sentiment was too romantic for Jack''s current mood. He wanted to keep dwelling and wallowing, but the thought that someone wanted to be around him during a breakdown was comforting. He hated the conflicting feelings. "It can get kinda bad," Jack quietly admitted. "You haven''t seen the worst of it. I don''t think."

    "I do believe I mentioned that I enjoy taking care of others. I like to feel useful. My need to do so has proven detrimental in the past." Kieran''s voice held a tight edge as he finished speaking.

    "So someone took advantage of you being nice?" Jack asked. Whatever had happened to Kieran in the past, he wanted to avoid it. He didn''t want to ruin what they were working towards. Although, he couldn''t do much worse than claiming that he was quitting vampires then jumping right back in with another vampire.

    "I would rather not speak of the particulars," Kieran replied with a small grimace, "but I reached a point where my need to please others was surpassed by my discomfort."

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    Bending over backwards for someone to fulfill their desires, put off by BDSM¡­ Once Jack added Augie into the mix, he could draw up some conclusions. Who did what? His imagination painted picture after sordid picture. He needed to think about something else.

    "So did you get that from your mom? Being maternal. Paternal. Not¡­ I mean, y''know? Being nice. That. God, just ignore me." He shouldn''t have brought up family. Kieran''s was dead and gone, and Jack had no idea how deep that wound ran.

    Kieran''s incredulous laugh didn''t give him any clue as to what sort of can of worms he''d just opened.

    "It''s not a habit I learned from my parents," Kieran said, shaking his head. "I had seven brothers and sisters. As the eldest, I helped raise them. As the immortal, I helped them pass."

    "They knew?"

    "They found out when I turned up in a pub just outside the village about fifteen years after my supposed death, not looking a day older." He looked out the windshield with a small smile, lost in the past. "I believe I was dying of alcohol poisoning."

    "Can''t imagine you drunk." Jack wondered if Kieran would be like Benoit, drowning in sorrow. He could see it being a vampire thing.

    "It was not a pretty sight from what little I recall. I''m told my greatest gift to humanity would be to never sing again." Kieran gave Jack a sharp smile. As if he knew exactly where Jack''s thoughts were going.

    "So they found a drunk vampire. That musta been fun." Jack had an idea of what he wanted for his birthday. He''d even make the effort to dig out his old book on cocktail recipes.

    "I was lucky. It was a low point for me," Kieran replied with some hesitancy. "My sire had abandoned me, no longer enamored with my appearance and conversation. I would have gladly submitted myself to death." He sighed and watched the windshield blades for a moment before speaking just above a whisper. "Begged for it, really."

    Being so close to giving up wasn''t a feeling Jack was particularly fond of, and he didn''t like that Kieran had ended up there because of some jerk who ditched him. Compared to his own experience with a vampire, being ditched was probably the better option. His curiosity bounced around, begging for answers, but there were too many questions.

    The silence dragged, broken by the rhythmic swipe of the wiper blades and the occasional passing car.

 Bulldozer

    Even though Jack hadn''t meant to bulldoze right into such a sore spot, he couldn''t back out yet. His own traumas were publicly available in news archives, so he couldn''t bring himself to feel too badly about dredging up Kieran''s old hurts. He was certain someone had told him that wasn''t exactly fair. Just because you aired your dirty laundry outside, didn''t mean you could dig through someone''s hamper. But if the hamper just happened to be open and it''s just sitting there in plain sight?

    He frowned and quickly pulled out his phone. His mother had been a nosy little shit who thrived on gossip. He swallowed back a smile and looked over at Kieran as he finished up his note and marked it as important. "So I take it no one staked you."

    "My siblings knew me," Kieran said with a hint of fondness. "Of course, they locked me up for a month, but, despite my tirades, they saw through the monster I''d become to the man I was afraid to be."

    Kieran broke off with a heavy sigh. He glanced at Jack before returning his gaze to the street ahead. "Seeing them again only reminded me of the eternity I''d condemned myself to. One might say I have abandonment issues."

    Jack scoffed and waved his hand, gesturing to the world at large. "When you outlive everyone else? No shit." He crossed his arms as he slumped back against the door, anger on Kieran''s behalf bristling against his curiosity. "What happened to your shitty sire?"

    "Colette."

    He had been expecting a location or a refusal to acknowledge the man''s existence. "Come again?"

    "I am merely one in a long string of fancies. Her sister caught Lorenzo''s eye, and he lost interest rather quickly," Kieran explained. His bitterness and anger hung heavily around them as he glared at the steering wheel. "She had been seeking a husband, and he simply wanted entertainment. A year of courting and seduction, and she was rewarded with a curse and a pretty gold chain. Three years later, Colette seduced him and ended his tour of the colonies."

    Finding out more about Kieran''s past wasn''t as exciting as Jack had been hoping it would be. It was just depressing. He hoped there were vampire therapists out there. It sounded like they needed them. "What¡­ What happened to her sister?" he asked, hoping for a sliver of happiness for someone he''d never met, but he braced himself for the worst.

    "She''s residing somewhere in the French countryside, I believe," Kieran dismissively replied.

    Relief filled Jack. "I knew Benoit was French!"

    "French Canadian, actually."

    He huffed and rolled his eyes. "I was close. Makes more sense than fucking Montana."

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    "Montana?" Kieran raised a brow at Jack.

    Jack scratched at his ear as he looked away and fiddled with his earring. He''d slipped up. "I looked her up, too. So sue me."

    "Oh? I have a list of names for you to entertain yourself with. If ever you become bored."

    The temptation was suffocating. The only thing keeping Jack from jumping at the prospect was the realization that Kieran was using it as an excuse to keep him around. It was a form of payment. They were both fucked up in their own ways.

    "You don''t gotta bribe me, y''know," Jack said quietly. "I''m¡­ When I get a routine, I stick to it. You''ve become routine."

    It wasn''t as reassuring as he''d wanted it to sound. Not with the apprehensive frown Kieran was giving him. He screwed up.

    "God, that makes it sound worse. That''s not the only reason I''m sticking around? I like you. Really." He crossed his arms again and gripped at his elbows, digging his nails deep into the fabric of his coat. It wasn''t the same as being able to feel his nails through the thinner fabric of his old hoodie, but the pressure still gave him some grounding. He swallowed and pushed past his embarrassment, rushing to get the words out. "I''ve been looking for excuses to date you again. If that makes sense. You make good breakfast, and¡­ Yeah. Stuff."

    "I''ll happily cook you breakfast whenever you''d like," Kieran said. He reached over and lightly caressed Jack''s cheek. His smile widened as Jack relaxed and leaned into the touch.

    "Me, too. I''m not as good. I''m good with toast. I make a mean Irish coffee," Jack offered with a nervous giggle.

    "I look forward to it."

    "Speaking of breakfast and drinks, you wanna try Lola''s? With me?" He did it. He was doing the inviting. There was no risk involved, but he felt his friends would still be proud of him.

    "I would love that. Let me know when. As always, my schedule is flexible."

    "Mine, too. I should, uh¡­" Jack pointed to his apartment. It was nice not having to make excuses for his awkwardness. "I had fun today. I mean, not fun-fun, but I liked it. It felt nice. Being out. With you."

    "I enjoyed spending time with you as well." Kieran shifted in his seat to face Jack. "I missed it. I missed you."

    "Me, too." Jack barely kept himself from adding on an "I guess" and ruining the moment. He bounced a little in seat before leaning toward Kieran.

    He was expecting to meet halfway for a light kiss, but just as their lips met Kieran''s fingers laced through his hair, pulling him in for a deep and hungry kiss. It was a bit much, and he was disoriented from trying to keep up. He was breathless when Kieran pulled away with an uncertain frown.

    "No, I''m good," Jack insisted, grabbing at Kieran''s wrist. "You''re good. A lot, but good. Good. Great."

    "Good." Kieran leaned back in and kissed the angle of Jack''s jaw before inhaling deeply. "I''ll see you later, my sweet siren," he whispered.

    Jack nodded and opened the car door, eagerly anticipating the cold touch of snowflakes on his burning face. It would have been an okay exit, but he caught himself on his seatbelt. He winced as he dropped back into the seat.

    "Don''t hesitate to call or text if you need anything," Kieran said, reaching over and pressing the release for the seatbelt.

    "Yeah, catch ya'' later."

 Shallow

    Brunch at Lola''s with Kieran was great. They had a relatively private corner, partially hidden by a collection of healthy vines that had taken over the surrounding area and were being directed across the ceiling by hooks. Jack was already working on his second screwdriver and a wonderful buzz that he was determined to maintain while ignoring the urge to go out and buy a plant for his apartment.

    "So I''ve been thinking, and I have a caveat to our relationship." He frowned and squinted at his glass. He was pretty sure he was using the right word. He really shouldn''t try to act smart with words. He moved his squint to Kieran, but there was no judgy edge to the amusement.

    "Aside from bodily fluids being off limits?" Kieran asked.

    Of course he would phrase it like that. Jack pretended his blush was from the drink. "Yeah. And don''t act like I''m crazy or anything, ''cuz this is gonna sound really weird. Especially coming from me. So please don''t point it out? But I want my friend, Candace, to give you a tarot reading."

    Kieran looked away with a tight frown. "Are you sure that''s wise?"

    Jack snorted and held down a giggle. "No, I think it''s bullshit, but she''s a good judge of character. So I want her face-to-face opinion on you. ''Cuz I''m way biased with your face. And I want her opinion without the distraction of shopping. She''s been eyeing your store."

    Running his eyes over the other patrons, Kieran sighed heavily. He looked back at Jack in reluctant misery. "Very well."

    "Don''t act like it''s a death sentence," Jack whined, despite having similar feelings.

    "Tarot readings and my sort can be," Kieran paused as his eyes flicked across the table, "difficult."

    "You''re not getting out of this." Jack huffed as he crossed his arms and slouched in his chair. "I gotta put up with it? You gotta put up with it. Welcome to the I-Hate-This Club."

    Shaking his head, Kieran smiled softly. "Please don''t misunderstand. The fewer who know of my kind''s affliction, the better."

    Jack rolled his eyes. Mass-produced cards weren''t going to reveal Kieran''s status as a member of the undead. "I''d be more worried about Sam having it out for your ass. He''s kinda under the impression you''re involved with the mob or something," he said as he reached for his drink. He paused before taking a sip, meeting Kieran''s confused stare. "Totally not my fault."

    "I suppose handcuffs are a step up from a pitchfork," Kieran replied with a suggestive smirk.

    "Don''t say it like that. Reminder: Ain''t gonna happen with me." Jack melted at Kieran''s laugh, and he gave a small smile.

    Kieran moved from his chair to the one adjacent to Jack''s right. "I know. I''m satisfied with emotional intimacy."

    Jack licked his lips as he looked from Kieran to the rest of the restaurant and back. No one had batted an eye at Kieran switching seats. No one was staring. This was good and normal. Just a dumb couple out on a date.

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    "Yeah? Well, you''re gonna have to be patient with that." Patience and understanding that only an immortal had the willingness to provide, Jack reminded himself. The only reason Farragut had faked his death was because his parole was at risk. Ten years was a drop in the bucket. He could see Kieran happily waiting around, and it only made his paranoia worse.

    "I have time." Kieran''s smile held no hint that he knew where Jack''s thoughts had gone.

    It wasn''t as reassuring as Kieran had intended, and only darkened Jack''s thoughts further. He had it backward: people staring would be a good thing. The more witnesses, the better. Jack swallowed back the bitterness and did his best to push forward a positive attitude. Kieran wasn''t Farragut. He was being patient out of kindness and understanding, not greed. At least, Jack hoped that was the case.

    "Hey, uh¡­ Thanks. For understanding. Or at least trying to," Jack said, unable to stop it from sounding stilted and forced. He looked at Kieran, hoping his grimace of a smile came off as apologetic.

    Kieran leaned over and paused just shy of Jack''s cheek.

    Jack quickly glanced around the restaurant before closing the distance. He placed a firm kiss on Kieran''s lips before pulling back, barely keeping himself from deepening the kiss. He didn''t need an audience for his awkward dating life. "I''m trying. This ain''t easy for me," he quietly admitted.

    "We can continue our break, if you wish."

    "I like you," Jack said, shaking his head. "You got caught lying, and now you''re overly honest. I kinda like that. Even if I don''t like what I''m finding out." He stared at the table in silence. The flash of a slit throat lodged itself in his mind.

    "I have a body count," he whispered.

    "Of one," Kieran said. He lightly ran his hand up and down Jack''s arm.

    Jack swallowed as he collected his thoughts and met Kieran''s eyes. He shifted his gaze to the side to stare at Kieran''s ear. "I dunno, I freaked out and killed the mouse I found in my cupboard."

    Kieran closed his eyes and slowly breathed in and out. "I would offer the services of an exterminator, but I fear you would turn it down."

    "I''m lying," Jack said as he tugged at his sleeves, missing the comfort of being able to hide his hands. He wasn''t sure what he would do if he did find a mouse in his apartment. "The worst I''ve seen is an ugly spider in the window sill. And a cockroach."

    "Again¡ª"

    "I''m joking! Kinda. But you should see the look on your face." He smiled at being able to get a rise out of Kieran.

    "Perhaps I''m the one who needs the break."

    "Shallow."

    "I never said I wasn''t."

    Jack found himself once more uncertain if he should be insulted or flattered. Then again, he was shallow, too. That was going to be a conversation he had no interest in. If he just didn''t think about it, then it could be avoided until the need for verbal vomit became too much.

    He wished he could go back to seeing a therapist. Dumping everything in one sitting onto someone helped sort his thoughts out when the medications failed. He missed the guilt-free vent session of paying someone to listen.

    "You know any therapists that are, uh, pointy? Or pointy-friendly?" he asked. Being able to discuss his insecurities without someone jumping to a diagnosis of crazy was something he needed.

    "Is this a hint?" Kieran laughed softly as he shook his head. "If you know of a therapist who specializes in vampires, then do send them my way."

    So there weren''t any vampire therapists out there. Or, at least, none that Kieran knew of. They needed to keep up with the times and work on a social network. Even a little forum under the guise of roleplay would be better than nothing. He could slap something together, and Benoit could send out invitations. She seemed like she would be connected with the rest of the community. "I''ll keep my eye open."

    Mostly for himself, but he had a feeling a lot of vampires could use it, too. Maybe he could dump on Lindsey in the meantime.

 Scheduling

    Jack had almost declined a ride to the library, but snow was steadily falling. His shoes could handle the snow with no issue, but he had yet to get around to buying a hat without any guidance. He could potentially steal one from Kieran and ignore the implications.

    He set himself up in one of the study rooms of the library. The lack of privacy was somewhat reassuring. He was within sight of the circulation desk, and the floor to ceiling windows allowed anyone who passed by to peek in.

    If anything happened, there would be witnesses.

    He forced himself away from the dark turn his thoughts had taken by pulling out his phone and staring at Candace''s number. He sent a text for her to call him when she was able. His stomach turned at the partial commitment.

    His phone rang almost immediately, and he startled, nearly dropping it. Candace was on top of it for once. "Hi," he greeted, cringing at how reluctant he sounded. He was the one who asked for a call. He only had himself to blame.

    "Watcha need? Advice? I''m a wealth of information!" Candace said with a slight note of song.

    "Um, yeah. Are you free tomorrow?" Jack asked. It was a decently vague question, but then she might get the wrong idea. He didn''t need another shopping trip with his own dressing room montage. "I mean light on appointments. Like, can I come in?"

    "You''re always welcome!" Candace insisted. "What are we gonna look into?"

    The eager tone of Candace''s voice gave him instant regret, and it was only going to get worse with his next words. He braced himself before speaking. "Well, not for me. For Kieran."

    The sharp intake of breath from Cadace''s end only made the urge to vomit worse.

    "Did he talk you into a couple''s reading? I love him already!"

    "What? God, no! Just him. I want your opinion on him, and if that requires holding hands around the table, then fine." That would be all Jack could handle. Something short and sweet that would have enough conversation and prying to give Candace a good feel of her victim. "Couple''s readings exist?" he asked, keeping any bit of intrigue from his voice.

    "Yeah, it''s great! Love, sex life, family relations, finding compromises on big decisions. All sorts of fun things! It''s a hoot when they try to skirt around sexual positions," Candace replied with a laugh. "I finally had to get a store copy of the Kama Sutra. I guess some people are just more visual than others."

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    It was a visual Jack could have done without. "Ew."

    "Other people are into it," she dismissively replied. "And I''m so happy you found someone who''s understanding and can accommodate you."

    It wasn''t exactly by choice, but there was no way he could discuss that aspect of his relationship with Candace. "Yeah. Lucky me." The thought of compromise rattled around his head before he chose to ignore it.

    "Definitely lucky you!"

    Jack narrowed his eyes and glared at the wall as he heard what sounded like the soft tap of a card being placed on a table. Lucky, lucky him. He should consider himself lucky that he had friends who cared so much about him.

    "Aww!" Candace cooed. "It looks like you''re going to overcome some past traumas! Yay for you!"

    He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Not just reinforce them? Are you sure?"

    "I''m posi¡ª Well, it depends on what the Devil is playing at. He keeps flipping on me. Well, you. He''s such a naughty little thing!" she said with a forced laugh. "No, but really. Change! Good things. Good thoughts. And when you see the reversed Six of Wands, kick him in the balls just to show him what''s what."

    "What?"

    "You heard me," Candace said flatly.

    "Right¡­ I''m gonna get back to this¡­" He trailed off, his eyes running across his screen and the bare bones interface for the database he was putting together for Kieran.

    "Something for Kieran?"

    How did she know? He must have said something in passing. "I''m building a database for him and all his crap."

    "If you need QA testing, I''m here."

    "You and Sam''s credit card?" He bit back a smile at Candace''s offended scoff.

    "One time! I paid him back."

    "Just go into the damned store, okay? I honestly don''t care," he said. "But do it after you judge him with your cards."

    "Okay, okay. First thing tomorrow morning?" Candace hummed for a moment. "Eight''s open."

    "Eight?" Jack was certain she opened at ten.

    "Doctor Delgado has seven. He called me around lunch today, so I''m here all day tomorrow, anyway."

    "Why would you agree to that?!" It wasn''t just the fact that Candace was doing tarot readings first thing in the morning that had Jack bewildered, but someone felt the desperate need to drag someone else out of bed for some sort of emergency reading.

    "My regulars get special treatment," she replied, "and it''s before the museum opens."

    "Whatever. I''ll see you tomorrow."

 Watch Out for Snakes

    Eight in the morning came much too soon for Jack''s liking. It was early and cold. Had he been smarter, he would have gotten Kieran to pick him up, but he figured the walk would do him some good. The walk had been fine, but getting up early enough to make it to Candace''s storefront in time had been an ordeal full of constantly checking his pockets and surroundings.

    He yawned and watched as Kieran''s car pulled up in front of him, right on time. He had an idea of just how miserable he looked when Kieran got out and gave him a onceover. Fond and apologetic was not something he was used to seeing directed at himself.

    He liked it.

    "Good morning, my sweet," Kieran greeted. He placed a soft kiss on Jack''s cheek.

    Jack did his best to not shy away. "Yeah, yeah. No bright-eyed, bushy-tailed rabbits this morning." He frowned at a vague memory of a woman blowing raspberries onto every inch of exposed skin she could find as she claimed to be searching for her little rabbit. He pulled out his phone, holding up a finger just as Kieran was about to reply. He made his note and looked up with a nod. "Done. Sorry."

    "You needn''t feel sorry, my sweet siren."

    "Yeah. Sorry. For being sorry. I mean, y''know." Jack huffed and shifted his weight. He should be happy that people were understanding about his new note-taking habit. "Let''s just get this over with, so I can hole up somewhere and forget about it." He turned to face the storefront and stopped short as the door opened.

    The man leaving Candace''s shop froze when he caught sight of Kieran. He stepped away from the door and let it close shut behind him.

    There was something familiar about the man and his bland suit. Jack''s breath caught as he matched the face with the name of Doctor Delgado from the Natural History Museum. He looked between Delgado and Kieran. Both were warily eyeing each other, neither making a move. He should say something.

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    "Part of the antiquing fanclub?" That was the wrong something. He should have kept his mouth shut and ridden out the awkward silence.

    Delgado laughed nervously and pointed up the road. "So it''s true. I fear I must be on my way," he said, his eyes briefly flicking to Jack. His lips tightened into a flat line, and his brows went up in worry. He gave the pair a wide berth as he left.

    Jack watched as Delgado walked away. He leaned in close to whisper to Kieran. "Snake Guy''s a vampire? Okay, that makes sense. But really? Or is he something else?" How many more vampires did he unwittingly know? "He never hit on me when I went to the museum with Candy. Candace. Not literal candy."

    Was Delgado trying to use Candace to get to him? He frowned as he recalled the first time he had met Creepy Snake Guy. "She introduced us, but he was more into scheduling a reading. I thought he was sneering at me, but maybe it was him feeling sorry for me? Same kinda look he just gave me."

    Kieran sighed and shook his head. "I couldn''t say. I''ve only met him in passing a handful of times. Never enough to learn his current name," he replied. "It was mostly back when Lorenzo was interested in showing me off. He¡­" He swallowed and looked to the ground. "I received a similar response."

    At least Jack wasn''t the only one to barrel right into the red flags. This time, however, he was in good company. He hoped it was good company. "I''m sure it''s not a you thing. Mostly. Anyway! Let''s get this bullshit over and done with. I have a latte with my name on it waiting for me," he said, gesturing to the flashing neon palm in the window.

    Kieran nodded and held the door open for Jack.

    The inside of the shop was warm and welcoming, despite the dim lighting. Jack tugged off his coat and ran his eyes over the shelves, taking in any changes. A pair of porcelain fairies sat on the cluttered shelves, and he felt a pang of regret for missing Candace''s birthday. He had a pretty decent excuse for ditching. People could hardly be mad at you for getting kidnapped. It didn''t stop him from feeling guilty.

    "Please enter," a soothing voice called from behind a heavy curtain.

    "I''d rather not," Jack mumbled. He glanced up in time to catch the tight nod Kieran gave. He pulled aside the curtain and waved for Kieran to go first. He followed and glared at the sight of two chairs sitting opposite from Candace.

    She looked much too pleased with herself.

 Age Old Questions

    Somehow, Candace had managed to track down another chair with a nautical theme embroidered onto its back cushion. An old fishing trawler at sea taunted Jack as he took a seat beside Kieran. He glanced over as Kieran sat beside him; no trace of the trepidation and misery from before was present. It wasn''t fair.

    He tried to distract himself by playing with the different squares of fabric that dangled from the table and onto his lap. Velvet, satin, and sheer were what he encountered. There was also an old shawl with sequins and glitter that he recognized. He remembered getting a hug and finding glitter for more than a week. He dropped the cloth and busied himself with his own coat, already regretting the sparkling mess his jeans had most likely become.

    The silence stretched on, and Jack had the sinking feeling he was supposed to make proper introductions. They all knew who was there and why, so why should he have to make the first move? He dragged his gaze up, his stomach lurching at the sight that greeted him.

    Candace had a menacing look about her with the way the shadows cast by her electric candles fell across her face. She leaned forward, propping her elbows on her fabric-laiden table and laced her fingers together. She rested her chin on her hands and wiggled her fingers. Her smile was eager and almost predatory as she regarded Kieran. "So. Kieran O''Byrne. Nice to finally meet you. Jack''s spoken of you."

    "Neither highly nor ill?" Kieran asked with a soft laugh. He glanced at Jack. "I''ll take that as a good sign."

    "It''s a good sign for him," Candace admitted with a sigh.

    "Hey!" Jack slouched down as he was easily ignored. He wasn''t that predictable.

    "Although, I am privy to some of the ''he''s an asshole'' tirades," she said with a hint of meanness. "My husband also had some choice words for describing you."

    Kieran narrowed his eyes in confusion and looked to Jack for an answer.

    "Sorry," Jack mumbled. He would have mentioned something if he''d known Kieran didn''t know about Sam and Candace. Blaming his memory issues on forgetting was out of the question. This was just him being a flake and taking for granted that his friends already knew of each other. "Sam''s married to¡­ Yeah. Shoulda mentioned that, huh?"

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    Kieran let out a sigh and nodded. "I see. Well, for the record, I am working on myself."

    "Good. Let''s begin!" Candace said as she began shuffling her cards. She eyed Kieran with a raised brow, sizing him up as she slowly shuffled.

    As much as the rustling of the cards spelled Jack''s doom, there was something he found mesmerizing about the action. That, and he thought Candace could have been a dealer at a poker table with how easily she manipulated the stack. He sat up straight when she stopped and turned over the first card, his heart rate kicking up at the familiar artwork.

    It was just a coincidence.

    "The King of Pentacles. Upright. We''re off to a good start," Candance declared, throwing Jack a wink.

    He could have done without the wink. Now Kieran would know he''d been subjected to plenty of readings surrounding his love life.

    Kieran leaned forward, propping his chin on his knuckles as he looked over the placement of the cards. "Representing my current self, if this is the spread I''m thinking of."

    "Exactly," Candace said with an impressed smile. Her smug smile said everything about her quickly rising approval for Kieran. "Next, let''s see where you''ve been."

    Eyes flicking from cards to Candace''s reaction as each was turned over, Jack took in her growing confusion. Maybe this wasn''t such a good idea. There was no way Candace would figure out Kieran wasn''t human with her self-indulgent card game. Her idea of a nosy shopping extravaganza was looking to have been the better option.

    "Um¡­ One sec." Candace flipped the rest of the cards and stared at them in perplexed silence then raised her eyes to Kieran. She ran a finger along the edge of The Hermit before moving to the Nine of Pentacles.

    Jack stared at the card, hoping there was nothing significant about the lady holding a bird. Aside from the pentacles surrounding her, he thought he could make out a snail at her feet. Did Kieran need to come out of his shell and face the future? He closed his eyes, so he wouldn''t blatantly roll them at the direction his thoughts had taken.

    When he looked back up at Candace, she was nibbling on a chunk of hair. The sinking feeling was back. She''d hit a dead end, and wouldn''t let herself make a decision. Or it was the old man on the other card that snagged her. The thought struck Jack with a sudden numbness.

    "How old are you?" Candace asked.

 In the Cards

    "How old are you?" Candace asked.

    Anxiety flared up and tightly gripped Jack''s lungs. Maybe the cards were some sort of magical vampire-detector. But wouldn''t she have hinted at some of her clients being not-so human? She''d never given him any weird looks regarding his bad decisions being worse than normal bad decisions.

    "Older than I look," Kieran admitted with an easy smile. "I''m swiftly approaching forty-five, if that helps."

    Jack wanted to kick Kieran. A fifteen year age gap was a bit much. There would be no way for him to escape Sam''s side-eying. Granted, three-hundred was much worse and certainly worthy of Sam''s judgment over Jack''s bad taste in men.

    "Right. Ah¡­" Candace glanced at Jack, who immediately looked away. "Well."

    "Can I trust him?" Jack asked. The faster he could get her away from thinking about Kieran''s age, the better. Even if he looked like a jerk, it had to be better.

    "This is a reading for him, not you," Candace said with an irritated sigh. "It doesn''t work like that."

    Kieran reached under the table and lightly set his hand on Jack''s knee. "Then what does my spread have in store for me?"

    "Well¡­" Candace regathered herself and focused her attention back to the cards. "The past has left you pretty emotionally scarred," she said as she tapped on the Seven of Swords.

    For the life of him, Jack couldn''t recall what the card supposedly meant, considering he''d seen it enough times. Someone running off with a handful of swords didn''t mean much to him unless it symbolized collecting trauma like trading cards. He looked at Kieran, trying to gauge his reaction. All he saw was a vague interest.

    "True," Kieran replied.

    "And there''s a lot of it. Like, a lot." She waved her hand over the spread in an exasperated gesture Jack was all too familiar with.

    "Again, true, but I''m certain Jack''s described me enough to imply my own tragic past for outsiders," Kieran said. His smirk was teasing and challenging as he met Candace''s eyes.

    Candace narrowed her eyes at Kieran for a moment, frowning. "Well, the past likes to circle back, and it''s circling back," she said, a hint of snippiness leaking into her voice. She sat up straight with a sniff as Kieran''s smile dropped.

    "The past has already made his presence known," Kieran said tightly. He glared down at the cards, looking over the spread as if he could strangle Augie through the table. "Jack must have mentioned him."

    "No, that''s the reversed Six of Wands. Harmless, persistent, and annoying," she said, waving her hand dismissively over the card in question. "Just talk to him, and he''ll move on. Communication should fix that problem. Hopefully. I''m talking about the Devil and the Ten of Swords. This could make or break you depending on how you deal with it."

    "I had been under the impression the Devil represented independence?" Kieran said, his voice slowly losing its confidence.

    Jack had the same thoughts, and Kieran''s uncertainty only made him more anxious about the reading. If calm, collected Kieran was wary, then what did that mean for Jack? What did it mean for their relationship?

    "Reversed, it can," Candace replied with a nod. "Upright? We''re looking at vices, addiction, some pretty negative stuff. Swords? Betrayal." She tapped her nails on the cards. Her own huffing sigh of disappointment was enough to drag Jack''s mood down even further.

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    "I see. Any suggestions?"

    "Keep an eye on your loved ones. I can''t tell if this is mischievous or malevolent."

    Kieran frowned and looked from the cards to Candace. "So not in regards to myself?"

    Jack already had an idea that Kieran was fighting against his own nature, and he was an idiot to trust a vampire to resist crack when it was right there. Both Augie and Farragut had shown him how tempting he was. Even Kieran had tried for a quick taste, and that had ended in its own flavor of embarrassment.

    "This is coming from without, not within," Candace said, shaking her head.

    Kieran''s shoulders relaxed, and he let out a slow breath. "I suppose that''s one positive."

    "It''s me, isn''t it?" Jack said, jumping to the worst conclusion he could. It would be neither malicious nor malevolent, it would be accidental. "I''m gonna fuck this up again. Am I gonna accidentally kill him in his sleep? Food allergies? I''m sorry ahead of time."

    "I forgive you." Kieran smiled and lightly patted Jack''s shoulder.

    "What? No. You''re still sitting here, waiting for the world to fall on your head and chop it off," Candace said, tapping the Nine of Swords. "For the record, that''s not going to happen. You''re good for him. He''s good for you. Jack''s attached to the Six of Swords." She pointed to the pair of cards, one partially hiding the other. "I see you two moving forward and overcoming past traumas together." She gave Jack a meaningful look before turning her attention back to Kieran. "But it''s for you, not him, so¡­ Yeah. Your reading. Not couple''s. Today."

    Jack sent her a dirty look, and she ignored it. It was nice that someone was out there rooting for him, but he couldn''t help but feel like she had some ulterior motives.

    "But I do encourage a couple''s reading in the future," she insisted. "I don''t wanna come off as pushy, but I really think you guys could use it."

    "I do have my own past relationships that had interesting outcomes," Kieran admitted. "I don''t wish for them to encroach on the present." He sighed and shook his head as he sat up. "I''ll focus on this for now, thank you."

    "As long as you keep the Devil and Ten of Swords at bay, I see this turning into a long lasting and loving relationship," she said, her tone seeping with a mystical air. "After the hurdles."

    Kieran''s eyes darted to Jack, and he raised a brow at the distasteful pout being aimed at the table. He glanced back at Candace, and she rolled her eyes. "Thank you. I suppose I''ll err on the side of caution."

    Jack''s eyes remained glued to the spread. The words "long lasting" echoed through his mind. How long lasting? Would he even consider it? Words floated past him as Kieran questioned Candace about Mr. Six of Wands. Why did Kieran and Augie commit to such a life? Kieran seemed to carry plenty of regrets about his decision, and Augie was a flippant little asshole who needed to jump off a cliff.

    He zoned back in to catch Candace''s advice on communication techniques.

    "Be forward. Direct. And for the love of fuck, put your damned wishy-washy foot down," she said with a firmness that had Jack blushing.

    Kieran''s lips tightened, and he nodded. "I thought I had, but I suppose I could have done better."

    "Be firm, but don''t lash out. Lashing out can mean there''s something still there to rekindle. There''s still a passion," Candace said as Kieran reluctantly nodded along. "And no moping. Moping around doesn''t do anyone any good. Just look at Jack." She waved to Jack and all his misery plainly painted on his face. She smiled apologetically and leaned toward him. "Sorry, sweety, but it''s true. You''re doing better, and I''m so proud of you."

    Jack shrugged, unable to fight that others saw him as useless. But he was doing better. Candace wouldn''t lie about that. He clung to the sentiment like a lifeline.

    "Thank you, Mi¡ªah, Candace," Kieran said, pulling Jack from his spiraling thoughts. "This has been enlightening. I regret to say that Jack never mentioned how much I would owe you. I''m assuming you accept credit card?"

    "I gladly accept store credit and will happily work within a trade and barter system," Candace said, whipping out a business card.

    Kieran laughed and nodded as he took Candace''s card. "Certainly. We can negotiate a trade."

    Candace grinned in triumph. "I''ll be in by the end of the week. Come back any time."

 A Step Up

    Out in the fresh air, Jack still couldn''t properly collect his thoughts. He hoped a couple espresso shots would help or at least get him so wired that he couldn''t hyper-focus on Candace''s apparent approval of Kieran. Or Kieran''s store.

    "Can I catch a ride to The Web?" he asked as he lingered around the door. He wasn''t particularly fond of the fact that he already knew the answer.

    "Of course, my sweet," Kieran said. He had a distracted look to him as he opened the passenger door for Jack. "Will you be staying there, or will you need a ride elsewhere? I can wait for you."

    Jack quickly shook his head. He appreciated the offer, but wanted more time to himself. "No, I''m good. I''ll stick there for a while. I think Morning-Shift-Guy is working up the courage to ask me about video cards. Missy''s been singing my praises, and she kinda hinted at it last time I was in."

    Kieran nodded along before closing the door. His expression remained neutral as he moved to the driver''s side and settled in behind the steering wheel. He stared at his keys in silence.

    Jack was lost in his own little world of thoughts. Missy had seemed a little too eager for him to talk to Morning-Shift. "At least, I think that''s what it''s about. If it''s for a date, I get to turn him down with a legit excuse. Which is nice, but weird. Weird for me," he said, hoping there wouldn''t be any jealousy on Kieran''s end. He glanced over to assess Kieran''s expression, and his chest tightened at the dark frown. "Uh, you okay there?"

    "I want you to move in," Kieran replied.

    "What?" It was far from the answer Jack had been expecting. An offer to join him for coffee would have been nice. But jumping straight to moving in?

    "I''ll not have you suffer for something I or someone I knew may have done," Kieran said as he turned to face Jack, his brows furrowed in worry.

    "Wait. You mean that reading? It''s a load of bullshit. Candy''s a good judge of character, not a psychic or whatever." And here Jack thought he had a tendency to overreact. At least it wasn''t about potentially being asked out.

    "My dear, sweet siren¡­"

    Jack bristled at the tone. He wasn''t stupid. He wasn''t a child. If they were going to work out as any sort of couple, he needed to nip that judgy, holier-than-thou attitude in the bud. "If you''re gonna talk to me like that, I can walk," he said lowly as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

    Kieran startled and stared at Jack in confusion.

    Jack shrank back into the corner between the door and his seat. He looked down at his lap, the regret of opening his mouth creeping up and silencing him from standing up for himself. Back together, only to break apart once more. It was him. He was the devil in Candace''s reading. He was shitty at the whole relationship thing and all about the self-sabotage.

    Kieran looked away and sighed heavily. "I¡­ Forgive me. I''m worried for your safety," he said quietly.

    "You¡­" Jack swallowed and cleared his throat, fighting against his desperation to run and hide. "You can be more polite about it. Don''t just jump to thinking I can''t take care of myself. I''m fucked up, but I can survive. Okay?"

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    Kieran nodded. "Of course. I meant to say, your friend is more than a good judge of character. She is a witch." He looked past Jack to the flashing neon palm hanging in the shop window. "And a talented one, at that."

    "Being new age doesn''t make her a witch," Jack said with a snort.

    "No, her beliefs have nothing to do with her talent," Kieran agreed. "It''s innate to her." He reached over and cupped Jack''s cheek. "Please, Jack. I lost you once to my own stupidity. I don''t wish to lose you again. Not when I have the foresight to prevent it."

    It was too much for Jack to take in all at once. Witches were real, and his friend was one. Benoit and Snake Guy were into tarot readings, and Candace was right on the nose too many times for him to properly ignore it. To top it all off, Kieran was making a true effort to keep him around. Everything in him screamed to run away from the commitment Kieran was proposing and stick his head back in the sand.

    "Okay. But this doesn''t mean anything. This isn''t a step up in the relationship," he insisted, waving between them. He didn''t believe his own words, but they were still there for him to fall back on. "It''s just being practical. Or something. Better safe than sorry. Just that."

    Kieran nodded and started the car. He shot Jack a sly grin. "If you wish for something better than the couch, I can fit a small bed in my study."

    Jack shot Kieran an unimpressed stare that went unnoticed. "You''ve seen my mattress. I''m fine with the couch." Being on the couch would enforce the fact that his moving in was temporary. He could leave whenever he wanted.

    "If you wish for something warded against Lindsey, then we can talk later. She''s a nuisance, but not so much that I feel the need to ban her from the flat at large."

    There was a hint of irritation in Kieran''s voice that Jack picked up on, and he sighed to himself. "Warded? She''s gonna creep on me? I''m gonna have two creeper roomies?"

    "I''ll speak with her. She should leave you and the cupboards alone at night."

    "Great. I''m also getting a doorstop for the bathroom."

    "I could install a lock?" Kieran reluctantly offered.

    "What the hell do you have against a locking door?"

    "The entrances to the building have locks," Kieran shot back. "I live alone. I don''t see the point of potentially locking myself out of a room."

    There was something about the way Kieran had said it that made Jack pause. "How¡­ How many times have you locked yourself out of the bathroom?" He''d done it himself. He''d even managed to lock himself in the bathroom a number of times after his first stint with Farragut. However, he doubted Kieran had the same excuse of not remembering how locks worked.

    "Not just the bathroom," Kieran admitted with a grimace. "Any door with a lock. If it turns, I will flip it without a second thought when leaving. I''ve had plenty of doors bounce back when I''ve turned the deadbolt."

    "Sucks to be you."

    "Sometimes. It forced me to take up lock picking and keep up with updated mechanisms. It''s been rather helpful with certain safes I''ve acquired," Kieran said. A bit of pride slipped into his smile, overshadowing the self deprecation. "Luggage is frightfully easy."

    "Great. I''m friends with a cop."

    "That is unfortunate," Kieran said with a rueful shake of his head.

    "Criminal."

    "Never convicted for anything I''m responsible for," he stated, radiating with smugness.

    "That implies you''ve been convicted for something you''re not responsible for. What? What''s the story behind that?"

    "Corruption and prejudice," Kieran replied.

    "Prejudice? You? What?" Jack couldn''t see anyone having a problem with Kieran. Aside from Sam, but that was personal on Jack''s behalf.

    At a red light, Kieran leaned over and lowered his voice. "I''ll getcha a history book," he said before quickly pecking Jack''s lips.

    Jack narrowed his eyes as his brain caught up to the moment. "Hey."

 Art Installations

    After an uneventful day, Jack was back in his apartment and sorting through his belongings as he waited for Kieran to show up. He sat on his bed and stared helplessly at what many would consider to be trash scattered across his floor. It may have been purposeful, but it still looked like crap, and he was looking at the only time that he''d be able to clean up and not worry about his makeshift security system.

    His phone pinged with a text from Kieran. His stomach flipped at how Kieran notified him before there was a soft knock at the door. It was a thoughtfulness he rarely experienced.

    Taking a deep breath, he got up and let Kieran in. "Hey. I''m almost done, I think. I actually don''t know what all I need. This seems more¡­" He shrugged as he trailed off, the feelings of indecisiveness and uselessness overwhelming him. "I dunno. Just more than what I''d be doing for staying with Sam or Tara."

    "Bring anything that will help you feel comfortable," Kieran replied as he moved further into the apartment, carefully sidestepping a small pile of boxes that once contained CPU fans. "We can always come back if you''ve forgotten something. You''re not being banned from your home."

    "Yeah. How long is this gonna be?" Jack eyed a pair of computer towers he''d been meaning to upgrade. Even if his situation was temporary, he wanted something to do. The possibility of giving Kieran a few hints of what commitment with Jack would look like had also crossed his mind.

    "I imagine we''ll know when it happens," Kieran replied. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

    "Great. That makes me feel great." Jack went to his fridge and opened it to stare at his meager supply of groceries. Would it even be worth it to bring them? Half a bag of carrots, a couple apples, and whatever was left of the milk were the only things that could go bad within the time he was gone. He glanced at the condiments tucked in the door shelves. He should just toss everything and start over. He should definitely leave the booze behind. The seasonal wine coolers and beer would serve as a special treat for when he got back or visited.

    "I''m sorry," Kieran said, his quiet voice causing Jack to jump.

    Jack shook his head and let the fridge door fall shut and moved his attention to the kitchen cabinets and drawers. "It''s not your fault."

    "In a way, it is."

    "Yeah¡­ I guess so. But it''s not like it''s on purpose? I hope." He couldn''t even fathom how or why Kieran would be able to fuck himself over just to get Jack in the line of fire. He felt incredibly stupid after implying it. "Whatever. I''m bringing my computer crap. So that''s gonna be kinda a lot. Sorry."

    Kieran nodded as he eyed a pyramid of bottle caps sitting on the kitchenette counter with bemusement. "Will I have art installations such as this to look forward to?"

    "No. I''ll just ask your ghost if anyone''s waiting to jump me. Besides her." Jack thought of the laugh he''d heard in the store. "How¡­ How common are ghosts? In your experience."

    "Common enough. Most don''t make their presence known, or they simply move on." Kieran shrugged and looked away, taking in a dusty motherboard leaning against the side table that held a hotplate. He frowned for a moment before quickly hiding it with a smile. "Some are mischievous and pretend to be multiple ghosts."

    It made Jack feel a little better. If Kieran was so nonchalant about the prospect of ghosts running around everywhere, then it couldn''t be that bad. "So what''s Lindsey''s story?"

    "I never asked."

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    Jack ceased his rummaging of the kitchen cabinets to give Kieran an incredulous stare. "What? Why not?! I think I''d wanna know more about some spooky roommate I didn''t sign up for."

    "She didn''t come with the building," Kieran replied, laughing and shaking his head. "I''ve known Lindsey for about five years now. I found her locket on eBay for a low price. She made her presence known after I brought home a date."

    "A date," Jack repeated. He''d been that date on multiple occasions, and it hadn''t gone over well.

    "A snack," Kieran admitted with a grin. "Much like take out, feeding in the comfort of your own home is sometimes desirable."

    Being part of the population that was considered food was still an odd concept, and it would forever have Jack questioning his relationship with Kieran. "So she saw a real life vampire and decided ''fuck it''?"

    "She eased her way in, manifesting as a shadow and turning on the TV to watch her shows. She has a schedule for when she''s permitted to watch certain shows." Kieran sighed and elaborated at Jack''s curious stare. "I''m not particularly fond of the propaganda they refer to as police procedurals. Streaming and DVR has been a godsend for my sanity."

    "What do you have against cops?" Jack couldn''t hide his exasperation, so he leaned into it. "And don''t tell me to read a history book."

    "In my experience, it is a position that attracts a certain sort, so the list of what I don''t have against them would be shorter. There is a usefulness to the concept, but people have a hard time putting aside their personal prejudices to make it effective," Kieran replied.

    Jack wanted to argue, but the memories of his first, and thankfully only, arrest weren''t exactly pleasant. The moment one of the officers had caught sight of his arm was marked with disgust and rougher handling. "Yeah, fair. Sam''s nice?"

    Kieran raised a brow.

    "To me? He was the nicest one when¡­ Yeah, stuff. He actually asked if I was okay." Jack shifted uncomfortably under Kieran''s gaze, not wanting to go too much into his experience. "Is you not liking Sam because he gave you a hard time?"

    "He did stir up some rather unpleasant memories."

    "Right. Okay. So was that why you were super charming when you dropped off Dinsdale. Oh, yeah! My mask!"

    Kieran watched in confusion as Jack scrambled atop the bed and grabbed the African mask from where it hung on the wall. "You named it?"

    "Shut up."

    Kieran shook his head and smiled fondly as he watched Jack carefully pack up the mask. "To answer your question, yes and no. I can hardly be blamed for Detective Fairchild not appreciating simple politeness being shown to the hardworking men and women at the reception desk."

    "Polite asshole. Wow. Candy does the opposite. She has a couple ACAB shirts she''s started wearing to casual events and the station. And she just got a big sticker to put on her car to celebrate her latest speeding ticket."

    Kieran laughed. "I''m finding Candace rather likable."

    "Even though she told you to tell Augie to take a hike?" It might have been a low blow, but Jack wholeheartedly agreed with the advice.

    Kieran stooped to grab the backpack sitting next to the door, ignoring the callout.

    "Yeah, I feel the same way," Jack continued. "She was dropping off Sam''s lunch at the station while I was being booked and then switched gears and said it was meant for me. Are you sure she''s a witchy thing? ''Cuz that puts too many things into a perspective I really don''t like."

    "I wouldn''t say there''s a scent," Kieran said as he looked around the apartment for another obvious bag to take, "but there is a certain level of awareness that witches begin to affect."

    "They make you itchy?"

    Kieran''s face screwed up in a confused frown. "I suppose on a spiritual level?"

    "Can she mask it?"

    "I wouldn''t know how. I''ve met my fair share, and they tend to want those of us who are no longer human to know what they are," Kieran said, shrugging. He propped the backpack on his shoulder and grabbed a duffel bag at the foot of the bed. "For those who know what they are, they prefer to advertise rather than hide."

    "Must be nice," Jack said, his bitterness creeping along his chest and throat.

    "I imagine it is. Although, there was one witch trial I was witness to that held an eager audience."

    "Uh¡­"

    "Be grateful Candace is a kind woman."

 Welcome Party

    A filing cabinet and a stack of document boxes caught Jack''s attention as he followed Kieran through the shop''s backdoor. One box had been labeled "1910 - 1920: Jewelry", giving Jack an idea of how he was going to be spending his spare time. It wasn''t exactly free time if he was getting paid to catalog random crap, but the prospect of rifling through old photos of Kieran would not be a hardship.

    He spotted a box containing a new scanner sitting atop the filing cabinet. "Ooh, nice brand," he said, pointing with the corner of the box he held.

    Kieran looked over and nodded. "It was suggested that it might be helpful."

    Freezing cold enveloped Jack''s right arm, and he pulled away. "Hi. I think."

    "Jack will be staying with us for a while," Kieran said as he set Jack''s backpack beside the stairway leading to the upstairs apartment.

    The temperature dipped further then immediately went back to normal.

    "You should head upstairs, I''ll get the rest of your bags." Kieran headed back out, pausing to frown at the floor near the threshold. He looked around the surrounding area and sighed in resignation. He clenched his fist as he pushed open the door and quickly snatched his hand away from the knob.

    "Okay?" Was there a surprise waiting? Jack hoped it wasn''t something over the top. Then again, Kieran hadn''t been planning on Jack staying over, but who knew what he could get up to with a whole day to himself.

    He ascended the stairs and entered Kieran''s apartment, hoping that Kieran hadn''t invested in a fold-out couch. What greeted him was an organized mess. Chairs were stacked on the dining room table, paintings hung upside down, cupboards and drawers were open, and the television was stuck in a loop of an overly gory scene from a horror flick.

    He quickly pulled his eyes away from the television, his stare landing on the kitchen and a pillow fort made of couch cushions. He''d killed a guy, and Kieran had dismembered the corpse in the apartment he now stood in. Why did he think this was a good idea?

    Jack kept his eyes on the kitchen and flinched as a scream queen performed her job to the best of her ability. For a moment, he thought he could smell bleach.

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    The television shut off, and a soft whisper drifted through the air. "Sorry."

    "I guess this is how you yell at people?" he asked as he hesitantly moved further into the apartment. He could do this. It was only temporary.

    "It''s his fault you left," Lindsey petulantly replied.

    Jack would have considered it his own fault for not being able to deal with anything. He still didn''t want to, but his new journaling habit was making the prospect easier to accept. "It was a lot of things. Vampire and ghost stuff was just¡­ I dunno," he said as he set his box on the coffee table. "I can adjust to that, but¡­ How much do you know about me getting, uh, kidnapped?"

    "That Kieran found you, and then you broke up with him. You''ve been avoiding him for over a month! You didn''t even bother to sneak by the alley to check in with me."

    He did feel a little guilty over not visiting Lindsey, but it wasn''t exactly easy for him to sneak by, say "hi", and duck out. "Sorry¡­ I have a lot on my mind. Besides, there''s a camera back there. My track record with vampires is so not good. And getting kidnapped didn''t exactly help matters," he tried to explain. "And then finding out Augie fucking used me¡­ Lotsa vampire issues."

    "Vampires!" Lindsey stressed, seeping another bout of coldness into the air beside Jack. "Not ghosts! We can''t do anything beyond maybe chucking a brick at your dense skull!"

    Jack looked around the apartment with an incredulous frown. "This looks like more than a brick¡­"

    "I just wanted my friend back, and you grouped me in with that depressed jerk!"

    "I didn''t¡ª"

    "Lindsey! Leave him be."

    Jack cringed and gripped his elbows at the sudden reprimand. He turned to face Kieran, relieved to see an apologetic grimace directed at him. No one was mad at him. He was fine. He busied himself with poking his finger through a buttonhole on his coat.

    "I''m not¡ª!" Lindsey let out a frustrated growl. "I just want things to go back the way they were. I don''t want you scared of me."

    "It''s not just you. Lotsa things scare me." Jack shivered as his breath came out in a small puff of fog. He watched Kieran go about placing his bags by the couch, politely ignoring the pair as he turned back to head down the stairs. "They''re just in a weird order."

    "I don''t wanna be treated like I''m dead. I''m alive enough."

    Jack scoffed and waved in the direction of Lindsey''s voice. "I can''t even see you right now, so I''m gonna have to argue against that."

    "See? Like that! Treat me like normal. You don''t gotta tiptoe around things."

    Jack opened his mouth, ready to continue his argument. His thoughts tripped over the contradiction. How was he supposed to not tiptoe around Lindsey being dead, but treat her like she wasn''t? "I''ll try?"

 Stolen Present

    Jack''s current life was spread out across the couch and coffee table. His laptop and the pair of desktops he rarely used but insisted on constantly upgrading were next to each other on one end. His notebook and phone sat on the other end with a black rubber doorstop. As far as peace offerings went, Lindsey couldn''t have done much better.

    He unzipped his duffel bag and frowned at his clothing. Fresh and painfully unfamiliar. He zipped it back up, not wanting to dwell on how permanent his situation might be.

    Or how stupid he was for rolling with it and wanting to roll with it. He should have called someone else first. He could always bail and shack up with Sam and Candace if there really was a threat looming around the corner.

    Some form of lecture or judging silence was in his future, and he was not looking forward to calling Sam. He would wait until Kieran had gone to bed to subject himself to that phone call. He wasn''t ready to have more ammo for his uncertainty. He was just couch surfing on his not-so-ex''s couch. He needed to figure out what to say to Sam that didn''t make him sound like more of a desperate loser than he already was.

    Kieran paused as he passed by and looked from the doorstop to Jack with a raised brow.

    Jack lifted the doorstop and shook it at Kieran. "Yes, I''m still hung up on this, and you earned it. And you know what? Lindsey''s on my side, ''cuz she gave it to me."

    "I''d been wondering where it wandered off to. It goes to the back entrance."

    Jack deflated a little. He was disrupting someone else''s routine, and the pettiness surrounding his present was no longer as enticing as it had been a moment earlier. "Oh. Uh, did you want it back?"

    "Keep it. I''ll get another one. Perhaps I''ll label it and chain it to the door."  Kieran''s lips pursed in thought. "Or install one that flips down."

    "Now I feel bad," Jack mumbled as he dropped the doorstop back onto the coffee table.

    "I thought the purpose was to make me feel bad?"

    "That was before I knew Lindsey was a thief." Although, he should have known since the door stop did look like it had seen some use.

    "Think of it as penance."

    "Sure¡­"

    "What would you like for dinner?"

    "Oh, yeah. Food. Uh, I can make a run to the store tomorrow and grab up some ramen or something. Keep myself outta your hair."

    "You''re far from an inconvenience, sweet thing."

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    "In that case, I''ll get some Chinese. There''s a nice restaurant about two streets over," he said as he pulled out his phone. There would be no wiggle room for that. No guilt, and he could easily cover the cost. "As long as the mom''s answering, this''ll be easy."

    "Very well. Here''s my credit card. I''ll have Peking duck if it comes in a natural color," Kieran said and dropped his card onto the coffee table.

    Jack looked from where the card had landed to Kieran. "What? No! You can''t just do that!"

    "I can call it in if you''d like," Kieran offered. There was a sense of confusion about him. "Is this about the money or the calling?"

    Jack could just imagine what Kieran would sound like, asking if the sauces were neon colored or not. If he knew the restaurant owner''s son would be answering, then he''d gladly sic Kieran''s judgy ass on the upselling kid. However, the mom didn''t deserve that and it wasn''t worth the risk of missing out on extra fortune cookies. "No. I''ll do it. They know me. I mostly just want eggrolls and rice anyway," he lied.

    "We can share if you''d like. Or you can get something for an easy lunch tomorrow."

    Jack leaned back with a groan and dropped his head onto the back of the couch. "Okay. Fine. You win. I''ll get real food."

    "Lovely."

    "Just don''t judge me, ''cuz the sauce is pretty red." Jack looked up and grinned.

    Kieran raised a brow and smiled playfully as he moved around the coffee table to the other side of the couch. "Should I buy you some boxes of mac''n''cheese to go with your ramen? Is that what you''re hinting at?"

    "I can buy my own. I know! I''ll make us a big batch," Jack threatened. "Plenty of leftovers. It''s always better the next day. I''ll even throw in some food dye to make it extra-orange."

    Kieran''s smile widened as he sat down beside Jack and leaned into him. "Why not green? Toss a few clovers atop for garnish."

    Jack stifled a laugh and rolled his eyes. "Maybe I will! Is that even edible?"

    "Moreso than your current diet, I should think."

    "But not as tasty," Jack said and licked his lips. He was successfully flirting without a drop of booze in him. Even with the looming doubt that he was saying the wrong things, he was feeling pretty good about his progress, and Kieran had yet to look at him like he was an idiot.

    Kieran leaned closer as if to kiss Jack, his mouth parting to speak. He backed off, glancing to the side as he lightly coughed. "Not as tasty, no," he said hesitantly.

    "Lemme guess: I''m the tastiest thing in the room?" Jack said with a disappointed sigh. He would have loved to hear a cheesy pickup line coming from Kieran. He missed out, and it wasn''t fair. He wasn''t that fragile.

    Kieran sat up, giving Jack a guilty grimace. "I wouldn''t know," he said before wincing. "It would seem that treading carefully is proving hazardous. I am trying."

    And with that, Jack understood what Lindsey had meant. He was damaged and not on any menu, but he wouldn''t mind if Kieran joked with him as if he weren''t fragile and off limits. He didn''t know how to say it was okay other than coming right out with it, but could he handle the embarrassment of calling attention to it?

    "It''s fine. I''m fine. We''re all good. I''m gonna order pizza. Chinese. That. God." He frowned at his phone and looked back at Kieran. "You can say things, y''know. I''m yummy, addictive, whatever. I know."

    Looking away from Kieran''s thoughtful expression, he distracted himself by picking up the credit card from the table. He ran his fingers over the embossed name and numbers. There was no middle initial. He was fairly certain his debit card had his initial. He made a note on his phone to check later.

 Mixed Signals

    The soft flickering of a muted movie helped to ease Jack''s anxiety over his next chore. He sent a text to Sam and received an immediate reply. He wouldn''t have to wait or wake anyone up, but night-shift-Sam could go either way with his mood. Jack prayed for sleep deprived as he called and waited.

    "Fairchild."

    "How much would you hate me if I kinda sorta moved in with Kieran?" he asked, unmuting the TV and setting it to a low murmur. He didn''t think vampires had amazing hearing, and Kieran had looked especially tired when he headed to bed.

    "You''re an adult and allowed to make decisions on your own," Sam replied, his voice bordering on monotone.

    "But¡­?"

    "But." Sam took a deep breath before his tone turned exasperated. "Really, Jack? Where do you stand with him? Is this something you actually want, or are you being coerced?"

    Jack blinked at the TV in surprise as his thoughts collided with the wall that was Sam''s logic. He didn''t think he was being manipulated. He wasn''t missing any more time than usual. He just noticed it more. "Why would you think I''m being coerced?"

    "You''re nothing but mixed signals when it comes to that guy."

    "That''s just me in general," Jack said in relief. "I have some major issues in case you didn''t notice."

    "Never noticed. Besides¡ª" Sam broke off as a muffled voice interrupted from the other end of the line. "What? Not if I can avoid it. Last resort. I mean it."

    "Something interesting?"

    "Joe''s trying to drag me into his investigation. Contaminated drugs, so¡ª"

    "So don''t risk it. I know." Jack rolled his eyes. He really regretted not covering his tracks better. It was just ecstasy. Nothing super hardcore. It wasn''t like he was trying to score heroin or make meth.

    "EMTs found a guy and barely managed to save him. Dead for two minutes. Don''t do anything stupid," Sam stressed.

    Jack dropped onto his side and sighed heavily. "I''m under the impression I''m in the middle of something stupid. If your reaction''s anything to go by."

    "At least you recognize it." There was a hint of annoyance in Sam''s reply.

    "Ha. So funny." Jack rolled onto his back and propped his legs over the couch arm. "But you don''t hate me?"

    "I don''t hate you, and I don''t hate your stupid boyfriend."

    That caught Jack''s attention. "He''s been upgraded? Really?"

    "He''s about even with Shane at the moment, but pulling ahead. Not that it would take much."

    "Who''s Shane?" And how could he bring up how much better Kieran was compared to Shane at every possible moment?

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    "Tara''s current boyfriend who thinks it''s appropriate to stare at my wife''s ass as if I''m not there."

    "Ah. That Shane." That was why the name was familiar. It was good to know that he and Tara were both still bad at picking decent relationships.

    "That Shane," Sam confirmed in distaste.

    "Does she know?"

    "Which one?"

    "Either," Jack said, snorting softly. He couldn''t imagine one knowing and the other not.

    "Candy has since decided against sitting in on the morning yoga class despite the convenient time slot."

    "Guess I''ll prepare myself for the breakup outing." Jack wondered what bars they would hit. He struggled to sit up, eventually giving up on fighting for balance against the couch arm. He huffed as he stared at the pile of blankets sitting beside him.

    "Now what''s wrong?"

    "Would it be weird if I opened a window at night?" Jack asked, looking from the blankets to the curtains covering the windows. There was a slight chill in the air, but it was comfortable enough to either sleep in a sweatshirt without blankets or do his normal routine of t-shirt and boxers and buried in comfort. "To make it cold. So I can wear a sweatshirt to sleep in."

    "I''d say go for it, but that''s just me talking," Sam admitted with a soft laugh.

    "Yeah¡­ I mean, he''s seen ''em, so he won''t be all weird about it, but he also won''t be weird about it."

    "Which is weird."

    Finally, someone understood. "Exactly!"

    "Jack. Go to sleep."

    No one understood.

    Jack rolled up a sleeve and examined his arm in the shifting light. Kieran had seen them when there were fresh additions. If he woke up first, then he could throw on a sweatshirt. "Right. Going to sleep. G''night."

    "Night."

    He changed into what served as his pajamas and began arranging the sheets on the couch. The cool air was refreshing on his bare arms, and he ran his fingers along the texture of his scars. He could just barely recall what it was like being high and enjoying the feel. Scoring was off limits for the moment, and it was unlikely that Sam would let him know when the danger of contaminated drugs had passed.

    He looked to the hall that led to Kieran''s room and wondered what it would be like to willingly go under a vampire''s thrall. He settled under the blankets and huffed in annoyance. He was an idiot with too many conflicting thoughts.

    The only thing Augie had managed to put in perspective for him was how stupid he was. Chasing an unachievable high was right up his alley, and he couldn''t tell if it was an implanted thought or his own. Since there was no drifting fogginess, it was probably his own.

    Jack rolled over and faced the back of the couch, hoping for at least a good three hours of solid sleep. Five if he was really lucky.

    ---

    The sound of cabinets opening and closing pulled Jack awake, and he poked his head out of his comfortable tomb. He grabbed his phone off the coffee table and squinted at the time. Six was much too early to be alive.

    His eyes moved from his phone to his bare forearm. It was also too early to deal with anyone seeing his scars. He scanned the floor and found his discarded sweatshirt. Reaching out, he grunted against the soreness in his shoulder.

    The sounds from the kitchen stopped. "I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to wake you," Kieran quietly called out.

    "It''s no problem," Jack said as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and pushed his arms through the sleeves. He was ready to face the world.

    Or at least the apartment.

    "Would you like breakfast?"

    "Is the sun up?" asked Jack. He slumped back into the blankets. They had reached the level of comfort that only a restless sleep the night before could bring, and he fully intended to catch up on his missing sleep.

    Kieran laughed and shook his head. "Help yourself when you''re ready."

    A noncommittal noise was all Jack could manage, pressing himself further into the pillow and blankets.

 Enticing

    It was closing in on noon when Jack got around to properly dragging himself upright and getting dressed. He was a groggy mess and was regretting not getting up when Kieran had accidentally awoken him.

    Going through his bags, he settled on yesterday''s jeans and a fresh, but slightly wrinkled, dark blue button-up. He missed his old wardrobe. Nothing fancy, nothing even remotely business casual, and nothing that required ironing. He was pretty sure Kieran would draw the line at hanging his shirts up in the shower, but the commitment of dedicated closet space was too much for his current state of mind.

    He glared at the mess of sheets strewn across the couch as he buttoned up his shirt. Maybe he should ask for a blowup mattress in the study. He wasn''t keen on folding sheets every morning. He might look put together on the surface with his new clothes, but his personal habits were far from it.

    He bundled everything up in the fitted sheet and stashed it beside the couch with his bags. It would have to do until he could figure something else out. A slip of panic and paranoia creeped over him.

    He''d moved in with Kieran all because of a threat from playing cards. How could he be so stupid? He should have moved in with Sam and Candace until Kieran figured his shit out. Was he always this stupid, or had Farragut set him up for failure? He would love to blame someone else for his shitty decisions.

    Jack dropped onto the couch and bent over, hugging his stomach as his breath came in short rasps. How could he be so stupid? Again.

    Letting Augie catch a sniff. Moving in with Kieran. He was nothing but bad decisions and mistakes.

    His panic eased into self-pity, and he wallowed for a few minutes before calling Tara. He hoped she would tell him to run or embrace his situation. Both options scared the hell out of him.

    "You''re lucky. You caught me at lunch," Tara answered. "What''s up?"

    "I think I made a mistake." Jack rubbed his collar between his fingers, finding comfort in the texture.

    "Yeah, I can see Augie being a mistake, but at least he''s a hot mistake. Throw him my way when you''re done."

    "That''s¡­" Jack broke off with a sigh. She wasn''t completely wrong, but Augie was part of his overall problem. "I moved in with Kieran. Temporarily."

    "Oh." Tara''s confusion was audible. "That was quick. No more Augie?"

    Jack took a breath and prepared himself for Tara''s reaction. "He was using me to get to Kieran."

    Tara laughed. "Damn! Talk about a plan backfiring."

    The tightness in Jack''s chest loosened, and he no longer felt the need to throw up. He wasn''t at fault. Tara would never blame him for being an idiot. "Tell me about it. He tried to swing a threesome when I confronted him!"

    "I warned you about those month names," she sang.

    He relaxed a little more and let out a small laugh. His tone turned conspiratorial as he passed on what he''d pieced together. "I don''t know exactly what happened between them, but I think Augie''s into S&M, Kieran safe-worded out, and Augie didn''t take it too well."

    "What the fuck. How into it is Kieran?" Tara''s amusement switched to concern with an underlying tone of threat. "He hasn''t tried to tie you up or anything, right?"

    "No. I''m just connecting dots here, so I might be wrong. He brought it up at lunch the other day. He kinda thought my scars mighta been related to some really heavy shit at first."

    "And that what? Enticed him?" Tara''s disbelieving disgust helped bolster Jack''s own revulsion.

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    "Not exactly. I think he''s just willing to¡­" A soft rustling of fabric drew his attention to the side, and he swallowed as he slowly looked from Kieran''s shoes to his face. The raised brow seemed to want him to dig his grave even further. He could resist for at least one minute. "Hi."

    Kieran leaned down, smiling. "I''m willing to accommodate kinks to a certain extent, but I do have a threshold that I have learned to be adamant about maintaining."

    Jack slowly slumped further into the couch, avoiding Kieran''s eyes as Tara cackled in his ear. "You''re back early," he mumbled.

    "I''ve closed for lunch and thought you might want to join me."

    "Eating in is cheaper. I''ve got leftovers." He still needed to go to the store and get easy meals for himself. That was a thing he needed to get done if he was planning to stay.

    "Go get fed!" Tara said with delighted maliciousness. "It''s the least he owes you for fucking up."

    Creeping on each other deserved the penance of food? That was a new one. Jack wondered what everyone would think if they knew the full story about his breakup and past traumas. Would they still be anywhere near as supportive?

    He settled on a flimsy argument. "I don''t think that''s how that works."

    "That''s exactly how it works," she insisted. "See, Shane''s paying for a camping trip. Looked up the cabin. Real nice."

    "Okay?" Jack''s eyes followed Kieran''s back as he walked down the hallway leading to his bedroom.

    "What can I say? The man can do oral like you wouldn''t believe, so I''m willing to give a second chance. For a week."

    Too many images he absolutely did not need floating around his head. "Ugh! Goodbye!"

    He hung up with a disgusted grimace, just in time for Kieran''s return.

    "Everything alright?" Kieran stopped by the back corner of the couch and leaned his hip against it.

    Jack wished he could pull off casual curiosity like that. He shook his head as he stood. "It''s all good. Tara''s just gross." He recalled her wanting him to send Augie her way. "On so many levels. But I haven''t lost my appetite, so I''m good to go."

    Kieran nodded and shifted his weight. "You may wish to redo your buttons. Unless you''re purposefully going for the ''just got up'' look. I will admit, you pull it off rather nicely."

    Jack looked down at himself and ran his hand over the buttons. Sure enough, he''d been off by one and hadn''t even noticed. It wasn''t even the first time it had happened, and now he was wondering if it happened more often, but everyone else was too polite to mention it. His stomach dropped at the thought that he was regularly running around like a total mess.

    He looked up when Kieran moved to stand in front of him, an affectionate smile on his lips.

    "May I?"

    Jack swallowed, and nodded his head in a jerky movement. He didn''t trust himself to speak and ruin everything with the wrong words. His heart beat loud and quick as Kieran made swift work of setting his shirt right. Hands settled on his shoulders, and Kieran leaned in, giving him a deep and lingering kiss. He squeaked as Kieran pulled away, lightly sucking on Jack''s bottom lip as he went.

    Warily, he raised his eyes to Kieran''s and searched his face for any indication that things may go further. He was relieved when Kieran only smiled and lightly stroked his hair.

    "Ready?"

    "Okay. Lunch. Yeah, I''m ready." There was a delightful dip in his stomach as Kieran smirked.

    "I betcha are, boyo," Kieran said as he traced a finger along Jack''s neck.

    "Oh, my God! Why?! And fuck you!" Jack replied between laughs as he shied away from Kieran''s touch.

    A quick kiss and Kieran turned away. "Not too much?"

    Jack shrugged and rubbed his arms, confusion roiling low in his chest. "Yes? But not in a bad way?" He didn''t feel like he needed to run away. "Uh, hey. Should I do something about the blankets? Other than, well, pile o'' blankets?"

    "I''m ignoring that part of the room to the best of my ability at the moment, so do as you wish," Kieran said as he headed to the door. He turned and held it open, looking expectantly at Jack.

    One night, and he was already being a nuisance. Jack reached up to tug at hair that wasn''t there and settled on fiddling with his earring. "How often do you go in the guestroom-study-place?"

    Kieran shook his head, smiling. There was no hint of annoyance as he spoke and gestured down the hall. "I can avoid it if needed. Lindsey uses the computer the most between the two of us."

    "I''ll use that as storage. And maybe upgrade to a blowup mattress. Later. Much later," Jack said as he looked around for his coat.

    "Planning to stay long enough for a much later?" asked Kieran, a hopeful look to his smile.

    Jack froze, running back over his words. "I dunno."

 Tease

    The small pizza joint they ended up at was located on a busy street corner. Kieran hadn''t been particularly impressed, but relented to Jack''s insistence that there would be no risk of Augie showing up. As long as Augie hung around, Jack would have the perfect excuse to drag Kieran to his favorite cheap restaurants.

    Once they settled in a back corner with a few slices of pizza and drinks, Kieran admitted that it was better than he''d been expecting. Jack did his best to not come off as obnoxiously smug, and he may have done well since he was fighting against the desperate urge to whip out his laptop and give himself a distraction from the late lunch crowd.

    He was grateful that Kieran had yet to call him out on dragging his laptop everywhere. His shiny new laptop with no old memories attached to it except for the reasoning behind wanting no memories attached to it. He missed his hoodie.

    Jack dug into his second slice, convincing himself that they were being ignored in their corner. He focused on his imaginary win against Kieran''s finer tastes. He''d proven that he had good taste on a budget, and he was going to simmer in the feeling for as long as possible.

    "No one has come to your rescue," said Kieran.  "I would ask if your friends are no longer cross with me, but I know better."

    "Well, you are kind of an asshole," Jack replied, keeping his voice quiet. He figured he was in the clear when Kieran had no further reaction besides an indifferent smile. "And it''s kinda hard to explain my reason for breaking up without saying you''re a¡­y''know."

    "Mmm. Being a y''know is rather bothersome," Kieran said with an easy nod.

    "I don''t know how to explain it without sounding crazy," Jack said, gritting his teeth in frustration. He would love to talk to someone, anyone, about his issues surrounding vampires.The fact that he was seemingly wired to go after them was more than a little disturbing.

    "Just tell them you found out I''m Irish," Kieran said into his drink.

    Jack''s short research stint into anti-Irish sentiment had been sidetracked by a binge of songs, leaving him currently lost and dwelling on Kieran''s comment of getting him a history book. He still didn''t get it. Celtic knots were pretty, every last flavor of accent he came across was soothing, and he thought sheep were cute. What was there not to like?

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    He would try his research again and hope for the best with not getting distracted.

    "I think that''s a perk. Well, a good thing. Not bad. I don''t need you to read stuff in front of a fireplace." He covered his eyes with his hand. His attempt at a light compliment was being well received, but he could do without Kieran''s grin growing wider as he carried on. "Okay, so I have this image in my head, and everyone kinda knows it. That''s probably why they think I''m giving you another chance."

    "Unfortunately, I don''t have a fireplace." Kieran looked to the side in thought. "Not at the shop. I could look into what properties are available."

    "No, I''m good," Jack replied, his voice tight in an effort to not jump at the proposal. Should he try his luck at getting a Victorian style greenhouse as well?

    "So you aren''t looking forward to a private reading?" Kieran''s smile had an edge of knowing to it.

    Jack laughed nervously, his eyes darting around. He would love a private reading. "You''re doing this on purpose."

    "I am. Do you want me to stop?"

    Did he? On some level, Jack loved the attention. It was personal and just for him, but he still felt the need to run and hide. "Yes and no," he admitted as he scooted his chair closer to Kieran''s.

    "I''ll leave it for now. You may have your pick of reading material when we get back."

    The swift dip in Jack''s stomach had him swallowing. It was one hell of a promise, and he was looking forward to it. Was this what normal people felt at the prospect of sex? "You''re gonna spoil me. You know that, right?"

    "Part of the plan to keep you around, my sweet."

    It was an appreciated effort. He grabbed Kieran''s wrist and tugged him close. Before he could put too much thought into it, he quickly kissed the corner of Kieran''s mouth. There was a giggle from behind him, and he breathed in sharply, his grip on Kieran''s wrist tightening.

    Kieran wrapped his arm around Jack''s shoulders and pulled him tightly to his side. "No one''s laughing at us, my sweet," he said quietly against Jack''s hair.

    Jack swallowed and nodded shallowly. Kieran''s words did little to ease the feeling that all eyes were on him. He wanted to go back to the shop and bury himself in Kieran''s filing system. Static photos and too much paperwork on necklaces seemed like a better use of his time than blushing in a corner.

 Soup Boy

    The plan for a private reading had been spoiled by an influx of customers. As Kieran dealt with the necessary evil that ensured his livelihood, Jack hid out in the back room with the filing cabinets and document boxes.

    There were so many random photos that had been carelessly tossed into the boxes. What had looked like it was going to be an overly organized filing system was proving to be a disaster. Most of the boxes were in perfect order, but then Jack found it all fell apart when he reached anything around the end of the nineteenth century leading into the twentieth.

    There was one crumpled up photo of Kieran and Augie from 1906 that he had set aside, out of sight. The pair made a good looking couple, and no matter how Jack looked at it, he was definitely the downgrade.

    He pulled free another photograph with wavy edges and paused to admire the car that two men stood in front of. Kieran had his arms crossed over his knee, leg propped up on the front fender, and the other man grinned from his spot in front of the door. The snazzy suits and hats had Jack fantasizing about old-timey gangsters throwing people into rivers.

    Judging by the date of 1912, Kieran was on the rebound.

    Would Kieran miss the photo? There was no Augie in sight, so it wasn''t up for grabs. Maybe something with rebound-guy still applied? He could always ask, but then he''d be reminding Kieran of a potentially shitty time in his life. His long, long life.

    Jack thought better of it and grabbed his phone from beside him. This would make the tenth picture he''d taken. He set the photograph into the growing pile of questionable pointlessness. He needed to ask Kieran about investing in a photo album and writing it off as a business expense.

    "Fuck. Right." He reluctantly pulled himself away from the treasure trove of historical handsomeness and hurried up the stairs and into Kieran''s study.

    Sitting at the large desk that looked like it belonged in some banker''s office, Jack felt like he was an important big shot. A big shot looking up tax forms that he should probably have someone else fill out. He printed extra copies for his inevitable screw ups.

    He looked around the study as he waited for the printer to spit out the small stack. It was nice and cozy with floor to ceiling bookshelves and a pair of armchairs sitting in the corners opposite the desk. All that was missing was a fireplace.

    Jack headed back downstairs and to the front of the shop to find Kieran with his nose in a book. He cleared his throat and held up the paperwork. "I got tax stuff we need to do. I need to be legit about this. Someone will yell at me if I''m not."

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    Kieran stood and motioned to the counter.

    "Thanks. If I zone out, lemme know, ''cuz I know I''m not gonna remember doing this," Jack mumbled as he swallowed back the urge to cry. He dropped the papers onto the counter and pulled out his wallet with a sigh. He glanced over the form again and shot a text to Sam, asking for his social security number.

    A cold spot edged up his elbow to his shoulder as he finished copying his ID information and tucked it away.

    "What''s the H stand for?" Lindsey asked as she manifested beside him, looking as normal and solid as Jack had ever seen her. "Henry?"

    "Hasenpfeffer," Jack automatically replied, his mind miles away as he moved his stare from her to the vaguely familiar number Sam had responded with.

    Kieran coughed and looked over. "Your middle name is¡­"

    Jack frowned and looked at Kieran in confusion. He tried to recall what they were talking about, but everything was escaping him. He quickly glanced around and saw the paperwork he was filling out. Why was he filling out paperwork? "Did I write it wrong?" he slowly asked, hoping for more context.

    "What''s your middle name?" asked Kieran, tilting his head with the barest hint of a smile.

    "Um¡­ I don''t exactly remember," Jack mumbled dejectedly, feeling his face heat up over something so stupid. He hadn''t meant for Kieran to find just how bad Farragut had fucked him up. Although, needing his ID for basic information was a pretty good indicator.

    "Hasenpfeffer?" Kieran said, his smile wide behind his hand.

    Jack blinked rapidly as memories slotted into place. "My mom named me after soup?!"

    "Did she?" Kieran leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. His smile was pleasant enough.

    It was slipping. Jack flipped over the tax forms and scribbled the memory down as he spoke. "She wasn''t allowed to name me Jackalope or Jackrabbit. She told Dad that Hasenpfeffer was a family name. I was five when he found out." He stopped and frowned at his chicken scratches. "I was kinda disappointed it wasn''t tortilla soup, instead."

    He looked up and caught Kieran''s incredulous sneer. There was a bit of amusement, but it still held plenty of judgment. "Shut up! I was five!"

    Kieran smiled and shook his head. "I understand."

    Jack gave Kieran a doubtful pout. He looked back at his scribbled note and frowned. It was his handwriting, but he didn''t remember writing it. His stomach lurched at how quickly the memory had left.

    Crack blood, vampire. Farragut had been a vampire that stole Jack''s life from him piece by piece.

    Soft pressure was on his shoulder, and he flinched away. "Sorry," he mumbled, raising his eyes to meet Kieran''s sad grimace.

    "I would fix it if I could," said Kieran.  He reached out again, lightly placing his hand on Jack''s.

    Jack could only shrug in response. He was the only one who could fix himself, but it was an uphill battle, and he felt like he was constantly slipping back to the beginning. The invasive need to give up was suffocating.

 Avoidance

    Once the feeling of helplessness passed, Jack looked between Lindsey and Kieran. They were possibly the only people he could talk to about his problems without looking crazy. He gave in to his curiosity and hoped he didn''t come across as pathetic. "What were we talking about?"

    "Rabbit stew. I have a recipe, if you''d like to try it," Kieran replied.

    There was a hint of mischief in Kieran''s voice, and Jack felt like he was missing something. "You''re making fun of me," he said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

    "You''re not fragile, so I''m permitted to tease, correct?" There was an edge of uncertainty to Kieran''s voice.

    The reply only made the feeling worse. He let his eyes drift down to the small stack of paper that lay between them, recognizing his handwriting. He shot Kieran a glare as he scooped up the papers. "I''m taking my notes and¡­"

    He flipped through the papers, vaguely recognizing the tax forms and his need to fill them out. He glanced at Lindsey, who gave him a sad frown before slowly wavering into non-existence. He didn''t want to deal with his issues, either. He tossed them back down with an annoyed sigh. So much for not looking pathetic. "This is what you''re getting into."

    Kieran moved around the counter and pulled Jack into a hug. "I''m aware," he quietly said. "It would take a lot more than this to push me away."

    "No whips and chains. Got it," Jack said with a small laugh, leaning into Kieran''s chest. He looked up when he felt Kieran''s hold loosen minutely, barely catching the nervous lip biting. "Do I wanna know?"

    "As long as I get a moment to collect myself, I can usually put up with more than you would think," Kieran admitted, dropping his arms.

    It only confirmed what Jack had overheard before. He was the winner of Kieran''s affections by default. The thought didn''t make him feel that great. "That''s not healthy."

    "I''m aware. I''ve been doing rather well with resisting Augustin''s renewed advances," Kieran said with an underlying tone of pride.

    Jack should mention he''d witnessed one such occasion. He should also suggest that they work on themselves before continuing their relationship. That would be the mature and healthy thing to do.

    So Jack''s best choice would be to poke the bear while mentioning he''d invaded Kieran''s privacy. He briefly wondered if Kieran would take such a revelation as badly as he had, but past evidence would say otherwise.

    He steeled himself with a quick breath. "So Lindsey kinda let me in through the back one time, and I saw Augie trying to kiss you, and, uh, yeah. Good job." He awkwardly patted Kieran''s shoulder.

    Kieran covered his mouth and stared at the floor. "You saw that."

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    Jack''s chest felt tight as he watched the mortification overtake Kieran. He knew the feeling well and felt awful for causing it. He rubbed at his elbow and looked away. He''d been trying to be reassuring and utterly failed. "Yeah, saw and heard. Things got weird, you took a breather, and Augie took it wrong. Right?" he said, briefly looking up for confirmation. "You woulda taken him back if he came crawling back in an hour, not a century."

    A whole century and then some. It was a disturbing thought. The time, the life, the fact that Kieran had multiple lifetimes under his belt that Jack had no hope of truly comprehending.

    Kieran nodded, looking away. "It took him¡­a while. By then, I''d worked myself into a frightful state and managed to burn the house down." His laugh was brittle as he shook his head. "I heard he''d come looking for me through an acquaintance. I almost sought him out, but the prospect of traveling dissuaded me. Cairo also had the benefit of being warm."

    It was a lot for Jack to take in. "What the fuck?"

    "Like you, I''m a creature of habit."

    Not any sort of creature that Jack was. Not that he knew of. "You burn down your house after bad breakups?" he asked, hoping he wasn''t about to wake up on fire if Kieran had a bad day.

    "Accidentally," Kieran stressed.

    Jack couldn''t tell if Kieran was trying to be reassuring or if he was just embarrassed. Either way, it wasn''t much of a reassurance. "Still! What the hell, man?"

    "There is a reason I lasted as long as I did with my sire. I bend over backwards for those I''m close to in an effort to maintain the status quo and please others, and I''m rather good at moping." Kieran leaned back against the register counter with a sigh. "How often I have wished that vampires and coffins were a thing."

    "Oh, yeah?" And here Jack thought he was pretty fucked up. Kieran definitely needed a therapist.

    "I would gladly crawl in one, shut out the rest of the world, and sleep for a century. But, alas, my sleep schedule remains the same, and I do not wish to endure bedsores once more."

    Jack was all too familiar with the feeling. He even had a nice little prescription that made him foggy and was a temptation all its own. Given the longevity of vampires, it was no wonder Augie was so obsessive for Kieran''s attention. Jack could relate to seeking out any form of comfort to ease the pain. His just happened to take the form of a bottle or two.

    "I think that''s called depression," Jack said after a moment. He didn''t think the observation would be thrown back at him.

    "And this is called avoidance." Kieran turned away and picked up the tax forms. "Wouldja like me to fill this out for you?" he asked, his smile bright and open as if nothing had happened.

    Jack melted a little and nodded. "I''ll take the help, but I think you need help, too."

    "I''m doing better?"

    "You''re dating me," said Jack. It was a valid concern. He knew he wasn''t healthy relationship material.

    "See? Better already." Kieran narrowed his eyes as Jack opened his mouth to protest. He pointed at Jack with the papers. "Don''t argue."

    Lindsey giggled from behind the register, and Jack blushed as he flinched away from the sudden sound. "You''ve been here the whole time?!"

    "I''m always here. Duh." A hint of bitterness leaked into Lindsey''s tone.

    Jack was reminded that he had somewhat promised to take Lindsey to a movie. A ghost in his pocket. Instead of sneaking in food, he''d be sneaking in a whole person. He chose not to think about it and focused his attention back to the forms in Kieran''s hand.

    Paperwork had to be better than the complexities of ghostly and vampiric life. Or unlife.

 The Murder Stairs

    Jack jolted upright. Footsteps. In the murder stairs.

    This was the perfect topping to his awful day of barely remembering filling out forms and zoning out constantly. Why couldn''t Candace''s warning of doom have mentioned paperwork?

    Despite the threat looming over his head, he was having a decent time, and whoever was creeping up the stairs was ruining it. The indignant anger was enough to push away the crippling fear.

    He quietly reached into his bag and pulled out his lipstick taser. He could stay on the couch and feign sleep, or he could go to the door and jump whoever it was. Which was the dumber idea? Getting Kieran was the smart choice, but he was sick of being a victim. He could survive on his own, and he needed to prove it to himself. He would also feel better knowing that his taser actually worked.

    He crawled out from under the covers and crept over to the door leading to the murder stairs.

    The knob turned with a soft click and slowly opened. A flash of pale skin reflecting in the moonlight was all Jack needed to find his target. He jabbed his taser upward and into the neck of his would-be assailant.

    The electric pops and cracks barely covered the strangled grunting.

    Jack watched, horrified, as the man stepped back and tumbled down the stairs. He didn''t account for the stairs, stupidly expecting his attacker to simply drop to the ground. He gasped and cringed into the wall when a hand lightly touched his shoulder.

    "It''s alright, my sweet. You''re safe," Kieran said softly.

    Jack swallowed and nodded as Kieran reached past him to flip on the stairwell lights. It took him a moment to recognize Augie''s prone form at the bottom landing. Anger swiftly replaced his fear. "What the fuck, man?!"

    Kieran sighed and patted Jack''s shoulder. "He''ll be fine."

    It was then that Jack noticed the impossible angle of Augie''s neck. That definitely hadn''t been part of his plan. "Is he breathing? I don''t think he''s breathing. Oh, god. I killed him. I killed my ex-boyfriend!"

    "He''ll live. Unfortunately," said Kieran. "Are you alright?"

    "No!" Nothing was alright. Everything was awful and confusing, and Jack had just murdered someone. Accidentally. Again.

    A slit throat, a broken neck¡­ What was next? Garroting? How could he accidentally garrote someone? He was going to become an accidental serial killer, and Kieran would be around to clean up his messes.

    He was barely aware of being held as Kieran lightly stroked his hair and murmured sweet reassurances. He wanted to say he was fine, but it was too hard to get the words out with his throat so tight. He swallowed against the feeling and nodded as he attempted to pull away.

    A loud crack echoed in the stairwell, followed by a soft groan.

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    "I suggest you leave," Kieran called out before turning off the light.

    Jack leaned back into Kieran''s chest. He didn''t want to deal with the undead.

    "I need time to recover," Augie whined. The sounds of struggling movement drifted up the stairs. "I''ve just died, and I can''t feel my legs."

    Irritation flared up in Jack, helping to drown out his increasing body count. Augie''s flippancy put the whole situation into perspective. There was no real threat to Augie''s life. Jack could kill him a hundred times over, and the loser would still be there to smile charmingly and bat his pretty blue eyes.

    "What the fuck do you think you''re doing, asshole?" Jack glared down the stairwell, just able to make out Augie''s outline.

    Augie pushed himself onto his elbows and squinted up at Jack and Kieran. "Good morning, Kyle," he cheerily greeted. "I would be forever grateful if you could lend me a hand."

    "This is what you get for not having locks," Jack hissed. He made the mistake of redirecting his glare at Kieran, only to be met by a raised brow. "Fine. Alarms! Bare minimum, get a door chime on the back door."

    "I''ll give you my credit card," Kieran said as he turned away.

    "H-hey!" Jack looked from Kieran''s retreating back to Augie. If Augie posed a real threat, then Kieran would surely stick around to properly kick the asshole out. He flicked the light back on to watch as Augie struggled to get on his feet, rubbing at his neck. "I''m not sorry about that, you creep," he lied.

    Augie leaned against the wall and grinned up at Jack. "Come now, darlin''. No need to rub salt in the wound." His grin turned sardonic, and he let out a bitter laugh. "I see you did your best to get over him."

    "At least I''m not breaking and entering," Jack shot back. "I should call the cops on you."

    "I would sincerely rather you didn''t," Kieran called from the hallway.

    "But¡ª"

    Kieran returned and handed his phone to Jack. "Might I offer a more effective option? Colette mentioned how she laments scaring you off. You should call her," he said with a sharp maliciousness.

    "She doesn''t need to be awoken at this hour," Augie said, panic seeping into his voice. Unsteadily, he pulled himself onto his feet, grabbing the banister for support. "Allow me to apologize by way of gift basket. There are so many lovely options this time of year."

    "Yeah, I think I''ll visit her tomorrow afternoon," Jack said, letting the ominous promise sink in for both of them. He had more than just Colette''s pet project of a jerk to talk about, but Augie was as good of an excuse as any to open up a conversation.

    "That is completely unnecessary," Augie insisted.

    "I''m snitching you out to your mom, and there''s nothing you can do about it!" He savored the hint of gleefulness he felt at having something to lord over someone else. It wasn''t much.

    "Now, please, don''t be hasty."

    A shadow parted from the rest of the darkness at the base of the stairs and quickly settled behind Augie. Jack frowned, wondering if that was what it looked like when Lindsey snuck up on everyone.

    "Jesus Christ! What is your damage?!" Lindsey shouted.

    Augie tripped up the first few steps with an alarmed shout as he turned to face her. "Y-you!"

    "Me! Now fuck off already!" She made a menacing step toward Augie, causing him to scramble halfway up the stairs.

    Jack caught a glimpse of blood-matted hair and quickly looked away. All he could think about was blood and bone, missing fingers, and exposed brain matter. "I''m closing the door!"

    He sighed heavily as he shut the door and turned to Kieran. He wasn''t ready for the apologetic frown, so he looked away. "This is a lot, Kieran," he said quietly.

 Stupid Vampires

    "This is a lot, Kieran," Jack said quietly.

    Kieran nodded, his shoulders drooping. "I would understand if¡ª"

    "No." Jack held up a hand as he cut Kieran off. "We''re gonna be adults and work through this. I''m selfish enough to want this right now, so I''m not leaving because your asshole ex has boundary issues. Mine did, too, and you went above and beyond in dealing with him, and I threw you to the curb. I''m just¡­ Yeah. We''ll work through it. Somehow."

    Kieran looked from Jack to the door with a doubtful grimace. "I see."

    "Yeah, I don''t see, either," Jack admitted. He made his way to the couch and grabbed the doorstop that sat on top of the coffee table. He did his best to ignore Kieran''s gaze as he went back to the door and wedged the doorstop beneath. "If I find out you guys can turn into bats or fog or some shit, then I might have to break up with you."

    He looked at Kieran with an expectant frown. To his relief, Kieran shook his head.

    "Growing fangs is the only true change that I''m aware of," Kieran said. "Everything else is¡­internal," he added with a disgusted look as he waved his hand over his torso.

    A flash of fangs much too thin for a traditional vampire flitted through Jack''s mind, and he quickly looked to the floor. "I don''t wanna think about that."

    Kieran nodded and slowly approached Jack. He waited for Jack to look up at him before gently pulling him into a hug. "Is there anything I can do for you right now?"

    Jack shook his head and wrapped his arms around Kieran''s waist. "I''ll get over it."

    "I don''t want you to simply get over it, my sweet. I want you to thrive."

    "Like you? I''m seeing cracks in this whole thing you got going." He pulled back to give Kieran a hard stare. "You know that, right?"

    "I do feel as though I''m thriving when I''m with you." Kieran brushed a knuckle across Jack''s cheek.

    The fragile smile Kieran gave Jack was the perfect reflection of his own feelings: barely holding it together and hoping no one would call him out for it. "Yeah, I''m one hell of a comparison."

    "Jack¡­"

    "Kieran." He pulled away completely and crossed his arms. His lungs froze at the feel of skin on skin. He swallowed and kept his eyes on Kieran''s chest, taking in the shiny black buttons on dark blue fabric. "I freak out when I go grocery shopping if someone''s in the aisle I need to be in," he said, focusing all his thoughts on his last trip to the store. "And don''t take that as an excuse to do my shopping for me. I saw the box of upscale mac''n''cheese in the cupboard. I''m fine with that, ''cuz it was funny. Sam already goes food bank on my ass once in a while. I don''t need it from you, too."

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    "Very well. I''ll keep it to teasing."

    Jack nodded and turned away, stiffly walking to the couch and dropping down. "Thank you. I''m gonna get drunk and watch TV. Feel free to join me, but you''re not stopping me."

    Kieran tilted his head in acknowledgement. "I''ll get you a bottle of wine."

    "I''ve got my own," Jack said, his own being a case of wine coolers that were on sale and had weird flavors listed.

    "I''ll be joining you, so I''d rather pick the drink."

    "Okay. Um. Thanks." Jack tucked his feet beneath him as he curled up, arranging the blankets around himself. He stared at the sight of his bare arm, scars on full display. He swallowed and pulled one of the blankets over his shoulders, wrapping it tightly around himself as he finally hid his arms away.

    He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling as he listened to Kieran moving around in the kitchen. A cabinet opening and closing, the clink of glasses, and the soft pop of a cork being pulled free. Sounds that were both reassuring and discouraging.

    Kieran sat on the couch and set the wine bottle and glasses on the coffee table. He glanced at Jack before pouring a generous amount in Jack''s glass.

    "Thanks," Jack murmured. Kieran was enabling him, and the only thing keeping him from immediately knocking back the wine like a shot was the state of his arms. He calmed his breathing and reached out for the glass, hyper aware of Kieran''s presence beside him.

    There was no change in breathing or movement. He glanced over to find Kieran silently flipping through the streaming options. He was thankful for the lack of attention, but it only cemented the fact that Kieran knew exactly what was going through Jack''s head. Even if Kieran had seen worse, the scars were on Jack''s arms and soul. He wondered if he''d ever get over it. He took a big gulp of wine and gestured to the TV.

    "You got The Vampire Happening on there?" The withering stare he got in return raised his spirits. He now had the perfect idea for gag gifts, and he hoped they''d be together long enough for him to get a couple. A small dip in his stomach had him wanting to make it work.

    "You cannot be serious." Kieran looked like he wanted to pout and argue as he slouched back against the couch.

    "I wanna laugh at stupid vampires, and Pia Degermark is hot." A look of confusion crossed Kieran''s face, and Jack rolled his eyes. "Just because I can appreciate that someone looks nice, doesn''t mean I wanna fuck ''em."

    Kieran nodded and turned his attention back to the screen. "I would think you''re too traumatized to watch vampire movies."

    Jack frowned and watched the screen as Kieran entered the movie title into the search field. "You''d think. Sometimes, yeah. But some of them don''t really trigger anything. I can remember watching this a few times in the last ten years, so I think I''m good."

    "Nothing with blood?"

    "I mean¡­ Yeah? No? Depends. It can''t be realistic. Hammer''s okay. There was a vampire movie without a vampire that had me freaked out, but that was implied shit going on in it. Lopped off limbs spurting blood everywhere doesn''t bug me too much. Campy gore is fine. It''s when it''s¡­" He trailed off as his thoughts jumbled together. He''d seen someone''s eye gouged out, but he couldn''t recall if it had been in a movie or for real. "No, the movie wasn''t right," he muttered to himself.

    "My sweet?" Kieran lightly touched Jack''s shoulder, interrupting Jack''s thoughts.

    "Sorry. I¡­" Jack shook his head, but it did nothing to rid him of the image. "Fuck, I know what an eye looks like. I mean. Getting pulled out. Fucked up. I''m not writing this down. I don''t¡­ No. Movie. Now. Just no."

    Kieran squeezed Jack''s shoulder and set about his assigned task. "Of course, sweet thing."

    Jack sighed and leaned into Kieran, letting his memories float around and shift. He closed his eyes and breathed through the lingering feeling of nausea.

 Whiskey Kisses

    Warm comfort surrounded Jack as he slowly awoke to the feeling of fingers dancing through his hair. He nuzzled closer and relaxed when he didn''t feel any wet patches on Kieran''s chest. He could finally check lazy morning cuddles off his bucket list.

    "What time is it?" he asked, content to stay exactly where he was.

    "Just after eight. I''ll be needing to get up soon," Kieran answered with a soft murmur.

    "Or you could call in sick." Jack thought it was a great suggestion.

    Kieran laughed and shook his head. "I think that''s ill-advised. Lindsey may get ideas." He made an attempt to sit up, but was effectively trapped under Jack''s weight.

    "Let her. I''m comfy, and you smell good." Warm, comfortable, and groggy enough to not have all his worries bombarding him. It was an enjoyable state of being for Jack, and he didn''t want to give it up just yet.

    "Mmm, as do you, my sweet, sweet siren." Kieran kissed the top of Jack''s head and breathed in deeply.

    Jack groaned and raised his head. He quickly pulled away when Kieran moved in for a kiss. "Nope. I don''t do morning breath."

    Kieran dipped his head in acceptance as he sat up. "Very well. Teeth, and then a kiss?" he offered.

    "Fine." Jack scooted to the other side of the couch and eyed where his phone lay on the coffee table. Memories of last night poked at what he needed to do. "Might as well prep myself for calling Benoit, and I could use the pick-me-up."

    "She likes you. You''ll be fine. She may even listen to you." Kieran''s light smile didn''t match the bitter note his tone had taken.

    Jack watched Kieran as he headed to the bathroom. In his experience, Kieran never really stated his case unless asked. And how many people ever bothered to ask? Jack, on the other hand, had a habit of oversharing his side and insecurities. He was surprised, and proud, that he hadn''t divulged the existence of vampires to everyone he knew.

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    Maybe they could combine their bad habits and become a fully functioning couple. That, or a complete disaster on a whole new level.

    Kieran returned and leaned over with an expectant grin. "Well? Have I earned my kiss, boyo?"

    Jack dropped his head onto the couch to hide his blush. Fingers were in his hair again, and he shook his head. "Lemme brush first!"

    "I''ll be waitin''."

    Dragging himself upright, Jack hurried to the bathroom and came right back out with a mouthful of toothbrush and toothpaste. "You''re a jerk. You know that, right?"

    Kieran rested his hip against the back of the couch and crossed his arms. "And you''re drooling, yet I still wish to kiss you," he said with a thoughtful tilt to his head.

    The kitchen sink was as good as any for Jack to finish up. He looked up and awkwardly raised his arms and dropped them. Everything was shaping up to be a much more intimate situation than he was used to, and he was lost. "Well, here I am."

    Kieran loosened his arms and gestured to himself. "And here I am."

    Jack licked his lips and left the safety of the counter to approach Kieran and his overly mischievous smirk. He prepared himself for some form of teasing and was pleasantly surprised when Kieran lightly caressed his cheek and tilted his chin up before leaning in. It was overly romantic and hit all the right buttons.

    Kieran''s lips were soft and gentle. Their tongues met, and Jack understood the look. Kieran tasted like whiskey. Jack pressed forward and angled to deepen the kiss even more, chasing the taste.

    He pulled back, his cheeks burning brightly as the weight of what he''d done hit him. Ducking his head and staring at Kieran''s chest, he scratched his nails across the back of his neck.

    "Too much?" asked Kieran.

    Jack quickly shook his head and looked up, briefly meeting Kieran''s eyes. "Yeah, no. That was kinda funny." He bit at his lip before opening up more. "I liked it. Nice surprise. So, yeah."

    Kieran leaned back down and gave a small round of short kisses. He ran his fingers through Jack''s hair as he straightened. "I need to get ready and open the store. There''s cereal in the cupboard, unless you want a proper breakfast."

    "Got it. I''ll find something."

    Left to his own devices, Jack rummaged through the cupboards in search of his promised cereal. He pulled up short as he recognized the box. "You''re an asshole!" he called out.

    "So I''m told!" was the cheerful reply.

    Jack couldn''t help but smile as he grabbed the box of Lucky Charms. Kieran was an ass, but he was a thoughtful, teasing ass. He''d get his revenge by stopping at the liquor store on the way home.

 Dismissive

    Parked on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, Jack munched away on his cereal as he logged into his and Tara''s phone game. He sighed in dismay at the splash page advertising the latest event. He was doomed to be at Tara''s beck and call for the next five days.

    Clicking on his inbox, he frowned and clicked in and out a few times. No flower crowns, no stamina packs, not even a little bit of pollen. Nothing from Tara. She hadn''t logged in since yesterday afternoon, and the game had just started a new event. Something was up.

    Jack now had an inkling of an idea of what Tara went through when he was running late with logging in. It was only nine in the morning, so she might be hungover on her camping trip. He didn''t want to face her wrath if he woke her up, but he had to know that she was okay. He hoped she would be grumpy, but understanding.

    His anxiety rose as Tara''s phone rang several times. Finally, there was an answer. Given the shuffling of fabric, he had woken her up. He prepared himself for an earful.

    "Wuz''p?"

    She sounded even more hungover than he''d ever been. "I''m just checking in," Jack said slowly. "Since you haven''t logged in, and that scarab event just started?"

    "Scarab¡­" A sharp gasp and the hurried movement of tumbling out of a bed echoed over the phone. "You made me miss the start?! Fuck you!"

    Jack jumped at the sudden shouts. Tara''s voice became slightly muffled as her shuffling and clattering about became louder.

    "You owe me fifty bucks to catch up! And you''re banned from the gym! Not just the gym, all of Portswain, you fucker! Fuck you!"

    Jack couldn''t catch the mumbling from the other side, but his guess was that toned god Shane was cowering in the corner. He knew Tara was addicted to the dumb game, but her reaction was over the top. "So, yeah. I''m okay over here. Are you okay?"

    "I''m¡­ Yeah. Wild night last night," she said dismissively. Too dismissively. "I''m gonna take you up on the background checks from now on."

    There was not wanting to talk about mistakes and heartbreak, and then there was whatever Tara was implying. Every little warning bell Jack could normally ignore was going off. "You sure you''re okay?"

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    "Nothing I couldn''t handle. But Shane''s ass got kicked." She chuckled darkly then let out a disgusted scoff. "Oh, shut up, ass wipe. Be glad I didn''t do more. Think I can''t handle shit? I can take whatever you fucking dish and throw it back in your goddamned face! Go harem shopping somewhere else."

    "Have you called Sam yet?" He had a pretty good guess on the answer.

    "Naw, man, I''m good. Cops don''t need to be involved and thinking self defense is assault. He learned his lesson."

    "But¡­"

    "I don''t need the victim blaming for this," Tara said, her voice calm and soothing. "I took care of it, and there won''t be any issues. Especially after I go hunt down some food. I am fucking starving. I think Sunrise is down the road."

    "Okay. But I''m still worried."

    "Now you know how I feel."

    "I guess." He didn''t need it pointed out.

    "So how''s Kiki working out?" she asked in a teasing sing-song.

    "Great?" Jack couldn''t hide the suspicion in his voice. It was some form of a trap. Or maybe just a simple distraction. He didn''t know which he preferred.

    "What happened? If he fucked up again, I''m in a mood to fuck back. I will put the fear of god in him."

    "Uh, Augie showed up last night. I tazed him." And broke his neck, but Tara didn''t need to know that part.

    "Good on you!" Tara said between laughter. "Don''t take no shit from no one."

    "Yeah. Trying not to. Kieran''s good, though. Really good. Earlier, he¡­" Jack trailed off as his cheeks burned at the reminder. "Yeah. Good morning. Whiskey kiss. It was good. I''m totally into whiskey mouthwash now, but don''t tell him."

    "I''m happy for you," she said softly, her smile ringing clear in her voice. "I''m gonna grab breakfast and catch up on the event. I need that slingshot. It flings shit. No damage, but it turns everyone''s armor brown for six hours if you win."

    "Great¡­" He wasn''t particularly invested in the stupid game, but he rather liked his avatar the way it was.

    "That''ll teach tookylooky to ditch me in the middle of a run."

    "I''m gonna go?"

    "Do not mention anything to Sam or Candy."

    "Same goes for you. Don''t mention Augie," Jack shot back. From the sound of it, neither needed the cops involved. Nor did they need a nosy witch doling out much needed advice.

    "Deal. Catch ya'' later."

    "Later."

    He stared at his phone for a moment before moving on to call Benoit.

 A Cordial Invitation

    Jack pushed his now empty bowl away and leaned back in his chair as he waited through the steady rings.

    "Benoit residence," answered a female voice.

    "Hi, uh, this is Jack. Elster. Jack Elster. Is Ms. Benoit available?" Was that polite enough? He was used to calling friends and companies, not whatever Benoit was. He was considering that he should have just shown up on her doorstep again.

    "One moment, please."

    He sat in silence, wishing there had been hold music. He could make out footsteps leaving and returning and braced himself for the upcoming conversation. He didn''t consider himself a snitch, but something had to be done about Augie.

    "Jack! Hello. What a pleasant surprise," Benoit said with an infectious cheer. "I had hoped to hear from you sooner, but I understand the hesitation. Are you doing well?"

    "Yeah, hi. Um, I''m fine? How are you?" Being formal and polite wasn''t one of Jack''s strengths, and he only felt more off-kilter having to play along.

    "I am doing very well, my dear. I have family in town. My dear Augustin. You should meet him! I believe the pair of you would get on fantastically."

    A sarcastic comment tickled the back of Jack''s throat, and he swallowed the feeling down. Jumping straight to insulting Augie wouldn''t do Jack any favors or win points. He hopped off the bar stool and made his way to the couch. "Sure¡­ Uh, I kinda wanted to talk to you about something? Personal-ish? If that''s okay. If you''ve got time. Totally get it if you don''t."

    "No, no, no! You are always welcome in my home." She paused for a moment then eagerly continued. "Yes, you should come over this evening! I''ll have Hilda bake a nice little cake for you. She is eager for someone to try out her latest concoction of a red velvet."

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    Now that the idea had been planted in his head, Jack had a craving for tea and cake. A cute little tea party. With a vampire. And probably a haunted doll. Just to make the scenario complete. "I really don''t wanna intrude or anything," he said, dropping onto the couch.

    "Nonsense! The fire is warm and welcoming, and I would so love your company. I''ll expect you at four. I can arrange a ride for you if needed."

    The last thing he needed was another awkward cab ride. "No, I can get there. I mean, really. I don''t¡ª"

    "I have a new tea that I''d love to share with you. I bought it from a darling little business I found online."

    "A fun little tea party, huh?" He didn''t mention his expectation of being joined by dolls.

    "Yes. I''ll see you at four."

    Jack sighed to himself and relented. "Okay."

    "Goodbye!"

    "Bye."

    He hung up and stared at his phone in partial dismay. Did Kieran learn this style of pushiness from Benoit, or did she learn it from him? Sure, it helped get him moving when he was feeling indifferent or undecided, but he could do without feeling like he''d been bullied one way or the other.

    It had been the same thing with the coin. Benoit got her way, and Jack got to feel grateful and out of sorts. Even what was supposed to be his first date with Kieran had been tinged with the light pushes, guiding him to show up.

    He groaned in embarrassment as he slumped over onto his side. He''d given Kieran one hell of a taste of his implanted forgetfulness, and Kieran had happily gone along and been overly accommodating. Jack quickly sat up at the reminder of that night.

    "Fucking asshole!" He frowned as memories clicked together and huffed in annoyance. Overall, it had been a nice night, much like his current stint in Kieran''s home.

    He looked to the door leading downstairs and to Kieran. He shouldn''t be here. He should leave. He was a danger to them both.

    He gritted his teeth against the intrusive thoughts. He was fine, and Kieran was fine. Candace''s predictions be damned, the one guy who was a threat to them was dead and gone and a pile of bone and ash.

    He pushed off the couch and did his best to get ready for the day without dwelling on the past and false memories and feelings.

 Accident Prone

    The laptop bag had all of Jack''s essentials: keys to an apartment he wasn''t currently using, a taser he''d successfully used, creamsicle body spray, phone, wallet, and, of course, his laptop. Even if he''d forgotten to charge the laptop, his life was mostly together.

    He made his way down the stairs and paused at the landing. He gnawed at a particularly bad hangnail as he edged along the wall. He had to remind himself that no one really died at the foot of the stairs. He couldn''t let Augie keep him from living his life.

    He bit down hard and ripped off the hangnail with his teeth and winced at the extra pain. Pulling his thumb away, he watched as blood steadily gathered along his cuticle. He still didn''t get the appeal, but maybe he could get some sort of answer.

    As he rounded the corner and entered the store, he glanced at Kieran, buried in a book behind the register. Looking back at his thumb, he licked his lips. He could shove it back in his mouth, clean it up, and ask what the deal was with blood and vampires, or he could tempt fate.

    Silently, he made his way to Kieran then thrust his hand between them. "Do you want this?"

    Kieran slowly looked up, wary and tense. "Is this a test?"

    Candace''s words rang out. That stupid Devil was about vices and addiction. Was a small taste really enough to get Kieran hooked past the point of no return? He should take himself and his bleeding thumb somewhere else and find a bandaid. He wanted to believe Candace''s opinion that the card wasn''t about Kieran, but he didn''t want to admit to her witchy status.

    "No? I don''t think so. Just tell me what it tastes like." Blood was beginning to seep beneath his nail. He''d done quite the number on his thumb and only then realized just how gross the whole situation was. But was it gross to a vampire? It had to be like kissing extra whip cream off someone''s cheek, and he now had a new desire firmly planted in the back of his mind.

    Kieran held eye contact as he gently took Jack''s hand in his.

    Lips wrapped around Jack''s thumb, and he looked away as he tried not to focus on Kieran''s tongue and light sucking. He''d just made things weird. Their relationship was already fragile and unsteady, and he had to go and be a weirdo. He swallowed and breathed in sharply when something hard lightly slid across his skin at a downward angle.

    Kieran pulled away and kissed Jack''s knuckles. "It tastes like blood."

    "Oh, fuck you!" Jack deflated under Kieran''s lopsided grin. "Fine. Blood tastes like blood. Why''s it got you guys so eager to get a piece of me?" He examined his thumb for any extra scratches, and everything was as it should be: ragged, chewed, and raw from picking at it.

    And slightly damp. He wiped it along his pants and gripped his bag strap with both hands. His moment of truth had been dashed, and he was stupid for thinking anything awful was going to happen. He was thankful, if a little disappointed, and he hoped it didn''t show.

    "It has a sweet undertone. Nothing overpowering, but it''s," Kieran shook his head in thought, "more flavorful than normal blood. It''s more filling, but it can be addictive. I suppose it would be similar to our kiss this morning?"

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    "Top shelf blood. Do people like me charge? If they know? Like, make a living off selling blood bags or something?" Jack couldn''t imagine it. Sitting around with his neck or arm out, some stranger''s teeth deep in his veins, sucking away his life for a few bucks.

    "It''s not unheard of," Kieran said after a few moments of silence.

    "I''m not gonna go out and sell my blood," Jack quickly said in distaste. "Wait. Am I being a cock tease? Sorry. Um¡­ If I ever start bleeding, you can have it? Except a bloody nose. That''s too weird. What''s that look for?"

    Kieran''s chin rested on his knuckles as he leaned slightly to the side. One side of his mouth sat higher than the other. "Please forgive me, but there is a part of me that hopes you''re clumsy with knives."

    "Sorry to disappoint, but I can chop vegetables without hurting myself."

    "A pity."

    "This, uh¡­" Jack lifted his hand and splayed his fingers, letting Kieran see just how bad his cuticles were. He kept his eyes on the book that rested by Kieran''s elbow. "This happens enough, though."

    "You shouldn''t feel obligated to use it as a reward or payment."

    Jack frowned and raised his eyes to meet Kieran''s. He scoffed when Kieran gave in and looked away. "Did¡­ Did you rehearse that?"

    Kieran shrugged and picked up his book. "I''ve been known to be highly motivated with the proper reward. And sometimes with the belief I would be rewarded." He glanced back up at Jack. "My current perceived reward is your presence, not your blood."

    Jack shifted his weight from one leg to the other, ideas popping up. Kieran was lucky he was too anxious to be shitty enough to abuse the new knowledge, but it could be used for Kieran''s benefit. "So what can I dangle in front of you to completely kick Augie to the curb?"

    "That I would not have to be alone to do it," Kieran mullishly muttered.

    "Okay. I can do that." The idea of being present for that awkward conversation didn''t thrill Jack, but it was a sacrifice he''d be willing to make.

    Kieran glanced up then back to his book. "And that anything that would come to light would be free from judgment," he added, voice still quiet.

    "Well, that''s not ominous," Jack said under his breath.

    "I aim to please." Kieran''s smile wobbled before he let it drop.

    Jack grimaced at what promised to be a double entendre. "Right, I''m gonna go take a break from filing cabinets and be at the library. I''ll be back after five? Ish? It depends on how long Benoit kidnaps me."

    "I''m sure she''d be more than thrilled for you to refer to her as Colette."

    "She''s too fancy for a first name."

    "Suit yourself. I can pick you up when you''ve been released. We can grab dinner on the way back," Kieran offered.

    "I''ll be fine." Jack shook his head and turned to leave. He nearly tripped to avoid running into Lindsey''s shadow and took a few steps back. "H-hi."

    She shifted into something more opaque and grinned, bouncing in excitement. "I found us a movie! New Year''s Day, just before noon. Does that work? Or will you be too hung over?"

    "Uh, I can plan for a movie." No one had invited him to anything yet, and his holiday plans usually bounced between Tara''s family and Sam''s family. He''d heard whispers of a larger gathering between the two, and he was going to try to lose the invitation or conveniently do worse and zone out. Having an excuse to avoid New Year''s Eve was a godsend. "What is it?"

    "Mei in May. It''s a romantic comedy with lesbians. It looks so cute." Lindsey twirled her hair as she stared up at Jack with wide eyes. She batted them for extra measure.

    "And they don''t die in the end?" Kieran said with a disbelieving scoff. "My, how times have changed."

    "Well, it is an independent film," Lindsey mumbled in admission.

 Damage

    Once again, Jack stood before the large gate leading up to Benoit''s house. He pressed the call button and waited, squeezing his elbow as he stared at the ground. He had hoped to get away with a simple phone call, but Benoit had essentially insisted he visit and hung up on him.

    While he appreciated someone actually wanting to see him and kind of hang out, he could do without feeling like he was bullied into it. Even if the promise of cake was an unusual bullying tactic.

    In the end, Jack had to admit that Benoit deserved to have the upcoming conversation in person. There was also a part of him that hoped Augie would be there. He wanted to witness the fallout to Augie''s actions firsthand.

    "Come in, dear flame!" Benoit''s voice crackled through the speaker, and the gate buzzed as it pulled open.

    Jack took a fortifying breath and quickly headed up the drive to the front door. The butler held the door open for him, and he nodded his thanks. He shrank under the assessing gaze running over him. He had the feeling he would never measure up to whatever standards he was being held against.

    The same as the last time he''d been there, he was led to the cozy room with the fireplace, and he sat in the same chair as before. Was it too early to think of it as his chair? Did he want to return enough times to even claim it? He already had his side of the couch at Kieran''s, so why shouldn''t he start staking a claim on random furniture in another vampire''s home?

    He eyed the fireplace, Kieran''s offer to look into a house with one slamming into his thoughts. It was a nice setup, and it had him yearning for his little fantasy. He looked up as Benoit entered and sat across from him, smiling and looking him over from head to toe in approval.

    "What brings you this time, dear flame?" Benoit asked as her maid served tea and brought out a small cake. "I understand O''Byrne was showing you off the other day."

    Jack slouched further into the chair in a bad attempt to hide his embarrassment. The way Benoit spoke hinted at her disapproval of the tactic, and Jack couldn''t bring himself to mention that it had been his idea. He watched as the maid cut a slice of cake and set it on the table beside him. He murmured his thanks, and she nodded in return before leaving.

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    "What has he done this time?" Benoit asked. She raised her teacup and breathed in deeply.

    "Not him. No, this is, uh¡­" He chewed on the inside of his lip as Benoit stared at him curiously. She liked him, but was it enough for him to point out how fucked up her kinda-kid was without incurring her wrath? He had to take a chance and at least put it on her radar. "So, uh¡­ So Augie."

    Benoit tilted her head in question. "You''ve met Augustin? He''s spoken little of what he''s been up to other than mentioning running into O''Byrne at the park. The poor dear was so distraught. He''s been rather put out as of late."

    Jack''s heart sank. If Benoit was so deeply rooted in Augie''s corner, was he about to go on her shit list as well? She hadn''t mentioned a "Kyle" being with Augie, so he hoped he could use the lying by omission as proof that Kieran wasn''t the absolute worst vampire out there. "Yeah, about that. Lindsey said it best, so¡­ What is his damage?"

    She sipped her tea and shook her head with a small smile. "As far as all of our kind are damaged, or do you mean in another way?"

    He grabbed up his own tea and tapped his nails along the porcelain. "I mean in a ''why is he showing up at my boyfriend''s apartment in the middle of the night uninvited'' kind of way."

    Benoit quickly straightened up and narrowed her eyes. "He has taken to trespassing?"

    "Yeah. Kind of. More than kind of." Jack kept his eyes on the floor as he shrugged. At least she wasn''t calling him a liar. "It was kind of a wake up call. Literally, for me. Kieran gave me his credit card, and it''s up to me to install extra security. He''s way too into having my birthday as a code, so I''m just gonna go with motion detectors for now. I don''t wanna deal with not remembering a code."

    "I see," she said in a clipped tone. She set her cup down with a loud clink, and placed her hands in her lap as she stared Jack down. "I don''t believe you would be here if all he did was trespass. What else has he done?"

    Jack had wanted to get Augie in trouble, and he had succeeded with little effort. He wished he felt more triumphant about it. "You don''t need to set him on fire or anything. I already broke his neck. On accident. Does that¡­does that count? As murder?"

    "How does he feel about it?"

    "He brushed it off and acted like nothing happened," he said, almost spilling his tea as he gestured widely. He gulped it down to save himself from future embarrassment.

    "I see."

 A Certain Type

    "I see."

    Jack didn''t like Benoit''s contemplative tone. It painted a much more troubling picture for Augie than he''d intended. He wanted something along the lines of time out and a slap on the wrist, not possible mutilation. Maybe a kick in the balls, but a broken neck was probably equivalent. "Please don''t chop his head off. He''s a loser, but, uh, yeah. I''m really torn on this whole thing. Like, I get it. I cyberstalk ''cuz I''m a little freak, too. On the side. Sometimes. I found Augie''s death certificate this morning and the house he grew up in. I''m sorry."

    "Oh, Augustin. I thought I''d taught you better." Benoit sighed and slowly shook her head.

    "Maybe Kieran''s his own brand of catnip," Jack offered, "so being smart goes right out the door. Am I just as bad?"

    "Have you broken any laws in your endeavor to reunite with him?" she asked with a small smile.

    "Uh, public records are public?" Jack laughed nervously and set his cup down to focus on grabbing the cake. That would be safe to hold and keep his hands busy. "His ghost invited me inside to eavesdrop on an argument. Does that count?"

    "His ghost?"

    "Resident ghost? She''s nice." Taking a bite from the cake, he felt like he could get through the rest of the conversation with no problems. He could even come back and be subjected to more new teas and cake.

    "More tea?"

    Jack nodded and watched as Benoit filled his cup. He glanced around the room, half expecting to see a creepy doll, but only finding shelf upon shelf of books and knick knacks. A cozy fireplace, comfy chairs, too many books to go through in one night¡­ All that was missing was a certain vampire. "Out of curiosity, are reading parties a thing?"

    "I''m afraid I don''t understand." Benoit busied herself with taking a bite from her own cake as she thought. "Harold and I would sit for hours reading beside one another. So, yes?"

    It was close to what he envisioned, and he was already halfway there with watching movies on the couch with Kieran. He stared at his empty plate in dismay before setting it down to grab up the teacup once more. He''d said dumber things in front of Benoit, and she''d taken it all in stride. He hoped she wouldn''t judge him too harshly for his romantic little fantasy.

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    "What about someone reading a book aloud to another someone? Actually comprehending the book is optional." Despite the extra warmth from the fire, Jack knew his face was bright red. He could only hope that Benoit wouldn''t call him out on it and tease him. "I have a very specific image in my head. It goes with old-timey pictures of people gathered around someone reading."

    Benoit nodded to herself as she looked away. "You are correct, dear Jack. O''Byrne draws a certain type to himself."

    "Pathetic loser?"

    "I would not wish to insult you by grouping you with others who happen to have the same interests," Benoit tightly replied.

    Jack nodded and stared at the cup in his hands. "No, I know what I am. I mean, I shouldn''t give us another chance, but I kinda cut it short the first time around," he said quietly. "And then I jumped at dating Augie to kinda get over Kieran, and he used me to make Kieran jealous, but he didn''t know we had history, so that was weird."

    He looked up, caught Benoit''s contemplative gaze, and looked away. "He suggested a threesome when I broke up with him. Because I didn''t wear body spray."

    "Hm." She nodded and looked past Jack.

    He quickly looked over his shoulder and saw nothing. "I have problems, and I like to make them worse."

    "So it would seem. I''ll have a word with Augustin."

    "Sorry." He hadn''t meant to shatter her view of her pseudo-son.

    "The fault lies with him, and I''ve been blinded by my own affection," she admitted with a heavy sigh.

    "It''s not just him. Kieran needs to get off his ass and tell Augie there''s no chance of getting back together," Jack said with more venom than he''d meant to. He cleared his throat and sipped at his tea. "Candy''s advice. And I agree with her. I trust Kieran, but not Augie."

    Benoit set her half-finished cake aside and waved to the doorway. "Beauregard?"

    "Yes, madam?"

    Jack flinched into himself at the sudden voice from just behind him. He looked up to see the butler standing off to the side, looking just as stern as ever.

    "Would you be so kind as to fetch Augustin?"

    "With pleasure," Beauregard said lightly as he nodded and quickly left.

    "Oh, dear." Benoit touched her fingers to her lips and shifted her eyes to Jack. "I''ve been worse than I thought. I do apologize for any trouble he has caused."

    Jack shrugged. "Coulda been worse. He coulda done more than, uh," he circled a finger around his temple, "nudging and suggesting I forget he fucked up."

    "I suppose, but his actions so far are doing him no favors, I assure you."

    Jack shifted in his seat and sunk further into it. He could just make out Augie''s voice down the hall, jovial and much too nonchalant. "When you talk to him, he knows me as Kyle," he whispered.

    Benoit nodded in approval. "You''re learning. Good."

 Time Stamp

    Augie sauntered into the room and almost tripped over himself as his eyes fell upon Jack. "Kyle. Good afternoon. I thought you were busy with Kieran," he said in a friendly tone.

    There was no hint of bitterness, and it was a punch to the gut that Jack hadn''t been expecting. Was he that insignificant that he didn''t even register as a romantic threat to Augie? The thought made Jack bristle in defensive irritation. "I don''t do busy," he all but growled. He looked up and stared pointedly at Augie''s neck. "How''s your neck."

    Augie looked from Jack to Benoit, his rising panic becoming obvious as he shifted his weight and forced a smile. "A good rest fixed my unfortunate tumble."

    Benoit sipped her tea and slowly raised her eyes to Augie. "You fell? My dear, you must tell me when you have an accident. You know I worry so."

    "A misstep on the stairs. Nothing to worry about, I assure you. All is well, and no threat of any lingering effects," Augie said, staring pointedly at Jack. "I''ll be avoiding stairs for the foreseeable future. Perhaps five years? Shall that work?"

    "You can''t put a fucking time stamp on my goddamned relationship!" Had Jack been holding a dish, he would have chucked it at Augie''s head. He wasn''t temporary. He wasn''t a bandaid. He had to believe he meant more to Kieran than that.

    "Now, Kyle¡ª"

    "My name''s not Kyle!" He looked away and crossed his arms, clutching tightly at his elbows, nails digging in through the fabric. His audience of two wasn''t ideal, but at least they knew him on some level. The thought barely kept the rising edge of panic from overtaking him.

    "Augustin, meet Mister Jack Elster," Benoit said with an elegant wave of her hand. She met Augie''s eyes and raised a brow. "I''m sure you''ve heard whispers of him. I know I''ve mentioned this bright flame the world wishes to dim."

    Augie swallowed and nodded shallowly. "Oh. I see. Yes. May I be excused?"

    "No." Her reply was short yet carried the weight of what the future held for Augie.

    "Please forgive me, Mother," Augie said, moving further into the room. He cautiously approached Benoit''s chair, shoulders hunched in a failed effort to appear smaller and vulnerable.

    Benoit sniffed and looked away. "You''ll not win me over with sweet sentiments this time, Augustin."

    Jack''s phone vibrated against his hip, and he surreptitiously pulled it out to peek, hoping for an excuse to leave or a decent distraction from the overall tightness in his body. He was greeted by several incoming texts from Tara.

    raidraidraidriad!!

    RAID!

    NOW!!

    ur myhealer!!!!

    bring all ur honey n pollen

    b ther soon

    He sighed and logged into the game as he half-listened to Benoit and Augie. It wasn''t the distraction he wanted, but he''d take it.

    Augie knelt beside Benoit, gripping the arm of her chair as he stared up at her pleadingly. "I swear, Mother, I had no idea. Kyle, Jack was properly covered in another scent, so I couldn''t have known. I was just after a pretty face. Er, a handsome friend. A companion for my visit."

    "And you happened to run into O''Byrne?" She didn''t look at him as she poured herself more tea.

    "I may have chosen locations that he would be tempted to visit, yes," he admitted. "Nostalgia is a¡ª"

    "Nostalgia?"

    It was becoming too much for Jack. Sure, he''d listen in on conversations going on behind him at a caf¨¦, but a front row seat felt like it called for audience participation. Especially when he was part of the subject being discussed. "Just say your dumb horny ass was horny," he said, hoping that cutting to the chase would end the whole thing.

    Augie glanced at Jack then to Benoit''s lap. "Ahah¡­ Yes. That. You had mentioned Kieran, and I''ve been missing him terribly."

    The smooth drawl was too much for Jack to just snidely poke from the sidelines. He was receiving constant texts as he waited for the game to load, and it was grating on his last nerve.

    "Oh, shut up!" He sat up and lightly laid his hand across his chest as he affected his best, and mostly worst, Southern accent. "I''ve been missing him terribly. Oh, I do declare, this dungeon is missin'' a sex swing. And fancy that! Here''s a tasty little snack I can strap right on into it. He won''t mind!" He glared at Augie before returning to his game. "Am I wrong?"

    "I don''t sound like that."

    "Yes, you do! You are straight up Southern Comfort, and, yeah, it''s nice and flattering, and I fell for it. I admit it. I was hurting, and I gave another bloodsucking leech a chance for all the wrong reasons, and Tara is¡ª"

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    He broke off as he jabbed at his screen. Dividing his attention between Augie''s idiocy and the need to strategize was not something he was good at. He glanced up and caught Benoit''s concerned gaze. He didn''t need prying from people who didn''t know him well. He should have kept a tighter lid on his feelings.

    "Are you well, Jack?" Benoit asked, leaning forward. She made a shooing motion at Augie''s hands, to which he happily obliged until she snapped her fingers, pointing to the space he just vacated.

    Jack nodded stiffly. "I''m sorry. I had way too much coffee, and Tara''s been hounding me on every raid that pops up since I don''t have a real job. I''m being punished for something. This is the sixth time today. What''s worse is she tried hitting me up for Augie''s fucking number." It was mostly true. No one needed to know exactly what was going through his head.

    He looked up in time to see the interested look cross Augie''s face. "Oh, no, you don''t. You stay the fuck away from my friend. And my boyfriend. I can''t believe I thought we coulda been friends." He finished in a mumble, cringing at the thought that his taste in men was awful. Even Kieran wasn''t amazing, so what did that say about Sam? He reminded himself that Sam had proven himself a hundred times over, and Candace was too smart to get stuck with a loser.

    Augie leaned against the back of Benoit''s chair, casually stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "I''d be more than happy to pursue friendship with you, darlin''."

    Jack glared at the hidden hands. Perfectly pressed pants without a speck of dirt and perfectly tucked in shirt with all the buttons in their proper holes. Perfect. Every last bit of Augie was put together and an awful reminder of what Jack could never hope to deliver.

    What was worse, was that Jack wanted to take Augie up on the offer. He wanted more friends. He wanted friends he could actually talk to about the weird turn his life had taken. Why couldn''t Augie be a normal, non-manipulative asshole?

    "Let me extend an invitation for lunch," Augie eagerly added. "You needn''t come alone. I''ve found The Vault has a delightful casual atmosphere while being rather chic."

    Jack pointed at Augie as he looked to Benoit for help. "This is what I put up with while I was kinda dating him. He doesn''t listen. In one ear, out the other, and he latches onto whatever''s good for him." He was aware of his voice cracking as he tried to remain calm. He couldn''t break down. Not now, and definitely not surrounded by vampires. He focused his attention back on his phone, breathing as slow and deep as he could manage.

    "A character flaw I once found endearing." Benoit slowly turned her gaze to Augie. "We''ll speak more of this later, Augustin."

    "Now, Mother¡ª"

    "Augustin." Benoit''s voice was quick and sharp and held no room for argument. "Do not make this worse for yourself."

    Augie sighed, his perfect posture dropped as he stared at the floor in defeat. "Yes, Mother."

    Benoit eyed Augie for a moment before turning her attention to Jack with an air of satisfaction. "Is there anything else you would like to say to him? I assure you, there will be no retaliation."

    Jack quickly shook his head and stared at his phone, tapping through a battle and doing his best to assist Tara. "I think I''m good," he forced out. He could visit it later or write a letter. He could have sworn one of his therapists had mentioned writing letters would help sort out his thoughts.

    Besides, he wasn''t the one who needed to get off his ass and properly kick Augie to the curb.

    Benoit nodded as she stared at the fire in thought.

    Jack glanced up and back to his phone, closing out of the game after the battle finished. He shot a text to Kieran, begging for a rescue. "Can¡­ Can I go?"

    Benoit nodded and gestured to the doorway. "Hilda will show you out."

    Jack stood, keeping his eyes on his phone and Kieran''s reply to the jumble of letters he''d sent.

    xmbgrt me

    Are you well, or was this a mistake?

    He breathed in slowly and took a moment to retype his message.

    im ok just get me

    not bad not good

    sry if i freak out

    I''ll be there momentarily.

    Jack looked up to see the maid from earlier waiting by the door for him. He swallowed and looked back at Benoit. "Thanks. Um, my ride''s on the way, so¡­ Cake was good?"

    "You are welcome in my home whenever you wish, my dear," Benoit replied. "The gate will be open for your ride." She reached up and grabbed Augie by the sleeve. "This one will remain here."

    It was an ominous promise, and Jack was eager to leave Augie to his fate. As long as he got to leave. "Right. Bye."

    The door closed behind him, and he shot a look over his shoulder to find the butler leaning against the door frame with an air of smugness. He was going to be jumped by a pair of vampires, and there was nothing he could do to defend himself. He gasped and cringed against the wall when a voice spoke softly beside his ear.

    "I apologize, Mr. Elster," Hilda said, her voice still soft. She motioned to the hallway. "Please. This way."

    Jack ducked his head and nodded, hating the heat that stung his cheeks and ears. He collected himself and pushed off the wall. If Benoit or her cohorts wanted to hurt him or drink him dry, then they had the chance the last time he was dumb enough to serve himself up on a silver platter. He didn''t know if it would be worse if he''d always had a lack of self-preservation skills, or if it had been instilled by Farragut. He didn''t want to think about it.

    "Thank you," he said as he followed Hilda down the hall to the entry. He concentrated on the wallpaper, hoping to calm down. It was a light pink with a repeating print that he could barely make out behind all the photographs and paintings that cluttered the walls. It was like walking through one of Kieran''s filing cabinets.

    "Um, you made the cake, right? It was nice. Good. It was good," he said. It wasn''t the most eloquent compliment, but it filled the silence.

    Hilda looked over her shoulder with a bright smile. "Danke," she replied. "I love to bake, and Madam enjoys entertaining. We hope to see you more often."

    "Er¡­" They reached the front door, and Jack didn''t have a reply or an excuse. He looked around awkwardly, his eyes landing on a crucifix with a chain hanging from it. He squinted and leaned in to get a better look at the pendant that hung from the chain. He drew back in shock when he recognized the shape as a pair of overly sharp fangs.

    "What the fuck?"

    "Madam''s sire. I never met him, but it is my understanding that he was a terrible man," Hilda said. She came to stand beside Jack and looked at the crucifix.

    Jack refused to give the fangs another look, and already he could feel the image wavering in his memory. He pulled out his phone and almost made a note, but changed his mind. Things that were almost snake-like had no right being in anyone''s mouth, and he didn''t want his happy fantasy image of Kieran ruined.

    Not when Kieran was capable of ruining that image all by himself.

 The Insecurity Club

    A soft knock at the door drew Hilda''s attention away from Jack. She opened the door and stared up at Kieran. "Mr. O''Byrne. We weren''t expecting you," she said coldly.

    "My presence was requested," Kieran stiffly replied.

    "He''s my ride," Jack added. He edged closer to the door. He was almost free. Free from one set of vampires and into the clutches of another one. He really shouldn''t think of his boyfriend like that.

    Hilda kept her eyes on Kieran, reminding Jack of the receptionist at the police station. He couldn''t help but wonder what sort of bad blood there was between them. It had to extend beyond supposedly breaking Augie''s heart.

    "Sorry," he mumbled. He edged around Hilda and avoided her stare.

    "Good day, Mr. Elster," Hilda said before closing the door, securing the house against whatever evils Kieran would surely bring.

    Jack hoped he wasn''t automatically guilty by association in Hilda''s eyes. He didn''t need poisoned cake in his future. He flinched sharply when Kieran touched his shoulder. He glanced up and shook his head. "Sorry."

    "It''s alright, my sweet," Kieran said and motioned to his car. He held the door open for Jack as his gaze lingered on Benoit''s house.

    "Sorry," Jack repeated when Kieran got in and started the engine. He shrugged and tilted his head toward the house. "I wasn''t expecting Augie to be there. I mean, I knew it was a possibility, and I wanted to see him kicked down a notch, but¡­ Just a lot. Right now. Stuff happening. It''s not you. You''re good."

    "What can I do that might help?" Kieran softly asked.

    "I dunno." Being reassured that there wasn''t a time limit on their relationship would help, but Jack couldn''t ask for that and believe it. Maybe he''d feel better if Augie had said he''d try again in eighty years, but even that would reinforce how little of an impact he had in the grand scheme of things. A little flash in the pan of someone else''s life, and would they even notice him or care when he was dead and gone?

    "Would touch help to¡­ground you?"

    Jack glanced at Kieran''s hand, resting on the stick shift. He frowned as his thoughts took a different turn. He knew how to drive. At least, he was pretty sure he did. He had a real driver''s license, not a state ID. Or was it just a state ID? What did they give him the last time he renewed? He wasn''t required to take a test. But if they ever required him to take a test again, would he pass? Would it all come back? His feet had a habit of seeking pedals that didn''t exist when Candace gave him rides.

    "...sweet? Jack?"

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    He blinked and pulled his eyes up to meet Kieran''s. "I''m fine," he lied. He looked away from the doubtful frown. "I''ll be¡­ I''ll be okay."

    Kieran nodded with a shallow sigh and turned his attention to pulling out of Benoit''s driveway.

    Jack watched the gate close behind them in the side mirror. It didn''t reassure him that Augie was somewhat locked away. At least his transgressions were on Benoit''s radar, and she was siding with Jack. It wasn''t a lot, but it was something.

    A little voice in his head told him it was only because of what he was. Vampires didn''t actually like him, they only liked what he had to offer. They would do anything to keep him around. Farragut screwed up his head so much that he could barely function on his own, Augie had eagerly suggested a threesome, and even Kieran had altered his own behaviors to keep Jack appeased.

    How did he know Augie and Benoit weren''t conspiring behind his back?

    "Should I worry about whatever it is you''re mulling over?" Kieran asked.

    Jack''s eyes followed the houses as they passed by. He should have been walking by them, not getting a ride. Not getting all his plans thrown off thanks to his stress getting the best of him. Yet here he was, being rescued by someone whose presence should be like a balm, not the cherry on top of his spiraling insecurity.

    "Why do you think I''m sticking around?" he asked. He looked to Kieran for an answer. "Like, gimme your worst assumption. Even if I said it''s not true. I kinda need that right now."

    The more members there were in the Insecurity Club, the better.

    "I''ve become familiar to your routine, and that makes me an easy and reliable choice. I''m the lesser of some evils in the world, and I offer a level of protection. For the moment, I''m useful." Kieran glanced at Jack out of the corner of his eye. "I''m visually pleasant company for a relatively low cost. Reciting poetry is another skill. Come spring, there will be a roof garden. It''s not a fireplace, but a trellis can be just as romantic."

    Jack looked away and rested his head against the window. A list of insecurities with a tacked on bonus at the end. Everything was kind of true, but there was so much more to it. "Yeah, so I kinda did imply all that shit," he said. His breath fogged over the window, and he was tempted to draw a sad face. He turned his head back to Kieran. "Wow. Okay. I did say that''s not the reason. Right? I think I did, but you know me and my, uh, yeah."

    "You did. I have my own demons, sweet thing."

    "So you''re not just keeping me around because I smell good?"

    "Your scent is enjoyable. I won''t deny that. But so are your looks and your intelligence." Kieran paused and let out a tiny huff. "I suppose I should say I appreciate your willingness to put me in my place, but I''d rather not."

    "Okay. Um, thanks for reassuring me? That''s a nice perk? If it''s real."

    "It''s very real. You owe me nothing."

    Jack stared at his hands as he picked at his hangnails. He laced his fingers tightly together to prevent himself from doing much more damage. He needed to start wearing his gloves more often. He tugged out a length of seatbelt and chewed on his bottom lip in thought. "Not to make you question everything, but, uh, what''s a trellis, and why do I want one?"

    Kieran chuckled and tapped his fingers along the steering wheel. "In its most basic form, it''s a bit of wood that allows plants to climb up. I had in mind an archway with roses."

    "Yeah, I definitely want that. And lights." At the next stop light, Jack leaned over and kissed Kieran''s cheek, retreating before it could be returned.

 Out of Sight

    The sound of Christmas music drifted through the open door of a business across the alley. Its cheerful beat and sentiments brought Jack''s mood down more than it already was.

    Christmas was such a hassle. The obligation of gifts and cards followed by a neutral thank you for something he never asked for nor wanted made the season so much worse. It was one holiday after the other. One obligation after the other with no viable excuse for escape.

    Paired with his chaotic dating life, it wouldn''t be until sometime next year that he''d be able to breathe again. He sighed to himself as he followed Kieran through the backdoor. He didn''t know what he''d do if Kieran had anything special planned.

    "I''m gonna hole up in the study for a while," he said as he rubbed his fingers on the edges of his sleeves. He clenched his hands and stuffed them into his pockets. There was already one loose thread he''d started picking at, he didn''t need to completely destroy his new coat with his habits.

    Even if it meant he''d have an excuse to get a new coat that might be more him. And back into his "street urchin chic." He could also let his hair grow out again, get back into some oversized clothes, and go back to hiding from life in general.

    He frowned at the floor. There was no reason to hide anymore. Of course there were other vampires out there, but the worst one he''d met was dead and gone. Hiding his scent was his best defense, and he''d still managed to attract one.

    He looked up and ran his eyes over the back of Kieran''s head. He''d been targeted to make Keiran jealous. That had to be something going in his favor.

    "I''ll make dinner," Kieran offered as he headed up the stairs. He paused and glanced around the stairwell with narrowed eyes before dismissively shaking his head. "Is chicken alright?"

    "Not ordering in?" Which was worse?

    "I thought a home cooked meal would help ease your tension." Kieran turned and looked down at Jack. "Or would you prefer the ramen? I suppose something familiar would be more comforting," he reluctantly added.

    Jack''s stomach did a tiny flip. His cheap ramen might be comforting in its familiarity, but it was also a reminder of how useless he could be and how depressing his life had been. "Maybe? I dunno. Chicken does sound nice. Do I get to request pasta?"

    Kieran nodded.

    "Cool. Chicken pasta¡­thing. Pesto?"

    Kieran crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "I have pine nuts and basil, so yes."

    Jack kept his mouth shut, fighting against the curiosity. He already admitted to not knowing what a trellis was. Pine nuts and basil had to have something to do with pesto. Basil was green. He bit at his lip as Kieran raised a brow at him.

    He refused to enter the trap. "My database, your database, whatever. It''s being buggy, so I figured I''d get mad at it for a while," he said, proud of himself for sidestepping whatever hole he''d dug for himself.

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    "Wouldn''t you rather distract yourself from negative feelings?"

    Sidestepping one hole, just to fall into another¡­ "At least I know for sure that if I''m mad at something I programmed, it''s my own damn fault."

    Kirean pushed off the wall and continued up the stairs. "It may be my own biases, but I do believe Augustin is firmly at fault here."

    "Oh, yeah?"

    Kieran glanced back at Jack and entered the apartment, leaving the door open. "Yes."

    "Yeah, that''s what I thought." They would have to have a serious talk once Jack was in a better place. A swift wave of nausea brought with it a handful of second thoughts. "Reminder: I''m not a fucking joint, and I''m not into that."

    "And I''m not particularly keen on sharing, my sweet siren," Kieran replied. He waited for Jack to cross the threshold before leaning in close to reach over and close the door. "Reminder: ''my'' is a possessive pronoun."

    Jack swallowed, eyes wide and cheeks impossibly hot. "As long as you don''t start calling me a smoothie, we''re good," he said, voice and chest tight. "Um, and not ''darling.'' Auggie called me that."

    Kieran''s jaw tightened, and he let out an annoyed sigh and straightened. "Must we continue to speak of him? I''d rather not have him sullying this night further. I was much happier with him being out of sight and out of mind."

    Any good mood that had been floating in the air was thoroughly squashed. "Right. Well, I''m gonna be out of sight until summoned by the smell of food." Mostly, he just wanted an excuse to be left alone without anyone worrying about him. Being away from Kieran''s irritation was also on his to-do list. Staring at lines of code was as good of an excuse as any.

    "I''m sorry, sweet thing," Kieran said. "This is¡­" He broke off with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "I''ll deal with it later."

    Jack had a feeling that Kieran''s life revolved around "later." He should know, he was guilty of it himself. Everyone''s barely hidden frustration with him made so much more sense. He wanted Kieran to be better, to do better.

    He needed to get better himself and ease his friends'' worries.

    But what was the point? He was useless and meaningless in the grand scheme of things. His life didn''t really mean much to others, so why fight it?

    He pulled out his phone and made a note about his thoughts before glancing through his other notes. Pointless, useless, stay put, don''t go to college, friends are fake and don''t like him. Each word stabbed him in the gut. He felt each and every insecurity on a base level even with proof that said otherwise. He could just barely remember a time when it was just a basic anxiety that he could push through on his own, but now it was like a bloody fight to the death to make any headway.

    He stuck his phone back into his pocket and turned his gaze to watch Kieran pulling out ingredients from the pantry. If he was so useless and annoying, then why was Kieran bothering to keep him around? Even without the promise of a few drops of blood, Kieran had made the move to keep Jack safe, to rescue him, to hold onto him.

    He headed to the study. Both he and Kieran needed their own distractions, and he was fine with that.

    His phone pinged as he sat down at the desk. If his friends didn''t like him, then why did they keep in touch?

    got a DOGGO ur my emergency contact

    also RAID in 5!!!

    Maybe he should get a dog or a cat or something. Or maybe a Tamagotchi and see how well he did with that first. He shook the thought away as memories of a keychain with a little pixelated angel floating to pixel Heaven surfaced. That was even before Farragut got to him, so how bad would he be at taking care of another living being in his present state?

    im not wakn ur dog

 Midnight Snack

    The biggest dilemma of Jack''s life had made its appearance in the form of pesto pasta topped with chicken. He knew Kieran could cook breakfast, but that was easy stuff. Dinner? Dinner took the kind of finesse and attention Jack would never be able to scrounge up.

    He wanted more home cooked meals with unburnt chicken.

    He rolled over from staring at the ceiling to stare at the flickering TV. Black and white images of a stop-motion dinosaur stuttered across the screen, and he wondered if Kieran had seen the movie when it had originally been released.

    The local independent theater had dedicated old movie nights. They could go see something Kieran liked.

    Light footsteps came from the hall leading to Kieran''s room, and Jack poked his head up over the armrest. He was hopeful for a lounging buddy, but Kieran was fully dressed as if to go out. He looked good, and it tripped a few alarms in Jack''s head. He wasn''t expecting Kieran to completely stop when their eyes met.

    Kieran looked away uncomfortably and ran a hand down his chest. "I am¡­ That is, I''ll be back later."

    "Later? It''s eleven." Jack couldn''t think of anything that couldn''t wait until the morning. Unless Kieran had a hot date. A date that wasn''t him. A midnight rendezvous that might be Augie-shaped. That''s what he got for not wanting to put out. How willing was he to put up with an open relationship?

    "You raid the fridge for a midnight snack. I need to look elsewhere," Kieran explained with a self-deprecating smile.

    "Oh. Right. That. Have fun?" Jack cringed at his own words.

    "No more than usual," Kieran quietly replied before leaving.

    It was the first time he knew Kieran was out feeding on the blood of the not-so-innocent. It had to happen eventually, and he still didn''t know how he felt about it.

    Strangely enough, it was better than thinking Kieran was meeting up with Augie on the side. A sick part of him wanted to watch Kieran out on the hunt. See what it was like from the sidelines. Would it help him heal? Make things worse?

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    Did knowing what was going on make him some sort of accomplice? Was a vampire more like a thief or a mosquito? The more he thought of the logistics and morality of it all, the more confused he was with his own morals. How okay would he have been if Kieran had managed to get a taste that one time?

    A simple little bite to the neck or somewhere easy. No pain, no memory, nothing.

    It was impossible for him to imagine what it would be like to not remember anything at all from his time with Farragut. As awful as the memories were, when he could remember them, it was better than the missing time he couldn''t recover. Knowing that something was there and being unable to recall it was much worse than the fragmented horrors he''d been left with.

    He rolled over, facing the back of the couch. He hoped he would pass out quickly and just be done with the day.

    The minutes ticked by, and Kieran returned from the hunt just after midnight.

    Jack feigned sleep, listening as Kieran''s soft footsteps approached the couch. Fingers lightly stroked his hair, and he managed not to tense up or lean into the touch. He contemplated grabbing Kieran''s hand and pulling him onto the couch. The thought alone was embarrassing with how needy it would make him look.

    Kieran muttered something in a language Jack couldn''t understand and kissed the top of his head before leaving.

    At the sound of Kieran''s door closing, Jack turned onto his back and glared up at the ceiling. He was in no place to be able to properly handle and process such a soft and loving action.

    He didn''t deserve it.

    He sat up with a panicked gasp. His hands shook as he grabbed his phone and struggled to open his note app. He deserved nice things. He deserved a boyfriend who liked him and treated him like a human being, not cattle.

    But in the end that''s all he and every other human were to them, wasn''t it? Cattle. Maybe a hen or a sheep. Something replenishable.

    And with that, the conflicting feelings were back. Maybe he wasn''t cattle, but he sure was seen as a nice little hen popping out delicious eggs. People kissed their chickens and cows, right?

    He needed to go to sleep and stop dwelling on weird things that were out of his control. He would feel better after a good rest. If he was even capable of getting a good rest.

    An hour later, and Jack still couldn''t get to sleep. With a frustrated growl, he threw off the covers and plodded down the hall with only one goal in mind.

    The door to Kieran''s room loomed in the dark hallway, promising doom or relief. Jack took a deep breath and held it before knocking.

    A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Kieran, groggy and confused. "He hasn''t returned, has he?"

    Jack''s own confusion almost stopped him from his quest for decent sleep. "No, that''s not¡­ It''s all good. I just want¡­ Um¡­ I want you to fuck me up."

 Desperate

    Kieran clenched his eyes shut and leaned fully on the doorjamb, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Wouldja kindly clarify what you''re after?"

    "Mind fuckery. Make me not care." The silence was overbearing as Jack waited for an answer. He just wanted a little reprieve from his thoughts, and someone who ran around sucking people''s blood should be willing to give it.

    Kieran dropped his hand and eyed Jack for a moment. "Are you being facetious?"

    "No, I''m being desperate." Jack thought it was obvious. Why else would he be asking?

    "Jack¡­ Do you understand what you''re asking?"

    Did he? He wanted a good night''s rest. He wanted to not care. He wanted what his meds promised and failed to give him. Even if it was only for five minutes, he''d take it. And if it happened to come wrapped up in the form of his stranger danger boyfriend? Well, some drugs looked like candy. But it would seem that the cost of getting what he wanted would be explaining himself.

    "When I found out you were a vampire, I mean, when you fucked with me that night. I slept so fucking good. I want that again," he said, struggling to put his thoughts straight. "Unless, it doesn''t work like that."

    "I can help you relax."

    "And it won''t Renfield me?" He could recall Benoit mentioning something, and he wasn''t all that into visiting the psych ward again.

    "Only if you become reliant on it, or if I don''t know what I''m doing," Kieran replied.

    The weight of disappointment was heavy. But, it wasn''t an outright no. Kieran was just giving Jack the label warnings. Just like any other legit medication. "So I''m halfway there because of Farragut, and you gotta watch what you do. Save it for really bad nights. Got it."

    Kieran sighed and lightly shook his head. "Perhaps you should look into meditation."

    Anger took the place of anxious worry. Just because he was eager for something that worked, didn''t make him a junkie. "You were all for messing me up before! What gives?"

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    "Normally, I would ease you out of the thrall, but your anxiety and previous experiences make it rather hard to use a light touch, and I have to tread very carefully," Kieran explained. "I had to...get in, get out, and try not to trip the alarm. Lingering brings more openings for questioning even though it helps ease the effects. And backtracking¡­" He broke off with a small huff. "Backtracking and going with the flow of thought without having to rely on forcing you to stay under is difficult. Especially with tangential thoughts."

    The sharp stab of what Farragut had done made breathing difficult. Jack swallowed the thought back, reminding himself of a decapitated body and the image of a crispy corpse from the coroner''s report that he finally got around to reading. It looked like a hangover was in his future. "Right. Got any vodka?"

    Kieran stepped into the hallway, shaking his head. "You won''t need it. I''ll help you. I''m hoping you''ll trust me enough to not fight it." He gave Jack a slight smile.

    Being outright asked to trust another vampire so soon after another one poked around in his head gave Jack second thoughts. It wasn''t that he didn''t trust Kieran on some level - certainly more than the other vampires in his life. "Maybe it''ll be like pot. If I know I''m taking it, it''s fine. Surprise brownies? Kinda a fucked experience." He rubbed at his arm as his eyes flicked up to Kieran. "Sam doesn''t trust baked goods anymore. Candy''s...very hippy-dippy."

    "I''ll do my best to keep you aware of what''s going on?" Kieran offered.

    "You don''t sound too sure about that."

    Kieran winced and shook his head. "You''re not meant to be aware of what''s happening."

    Jack sighed in dismay as he stared miserably up at Kieran. It was all pointless since he would just freak out the moment he realized what was going on. He wished he could just look into Kieran''s pretty eyes and lose all his cares. He''d even take a little less anxiety.

    Kieran had such nice, kind eyes. Pretty little flecks of green that popped in the right light. Like stupid little clovers. He wanted to know what they''d look like in the light from a fireplace. A nice cozy fireplace next to a comfy loveseat.

    "Would you like to join me on the couch?" Kieran softly asked as he touched Jack''s shoulder.

    "Yeah, I like sitting next to you." Curling up next to Kieran would be a good consolation prize.

    Kieran smiled and guided Jack down the hall and back into the living room. "Come, sweet thing. We''ll sit and see how deep I can take you without causing you more stress."

    "Heh, that''s an innuendo."

    "Intimacy on an entirely different level, yes," Kieran said as he helped Jack onto the couch.

    Jack glanced up at Kieran and caught the fond smile directed at him. His stomach flipped. He had someone who was into him. Someone who paid attention to him when they went out, cared about his comfort, and let him be the socially inept freak that he was.

 Friendly and a Little Pointy

    "How are you feeling?" Kieran asked as he stroked Jack''s hair.

    Jack looked down and stared at the pile of blankets sitting beside him. How was he feeling? Fine, considering his life and how messed up it was. At least he was free to roam and go on dates with idiots without being threatened. Free to leave his crap spread across Kieran''s couch and floor. He didn''t even feel too bad about Kieran seeing the disaster the couch had become in just a few hours of restlessness.

    "Okay enough, I guess." He met Kieran''s eyes again as he watched Kieran sit down next to him. He turned and leaned his side against the back of the couch. "So are you gonna tell me all about how sleepy I''m getting?"

    "Nothing of the sort," Kieran replied with a small laugh. "I can, however, encourage you to relax even more if you''d like."

    Relaxing would be nice. He didn''t like being so high strung all the time. "I like relaxing. And cuddling."

    "As do I. I enjoy feeling the presence of another beside me. I find it helps." Kieran lightly traced a finger up and down Jack''s arm.

    Jack could think of several things that would be more manageable with a warm body sitting next to him. And with how many years Kieran had stacked up behind him, he couldn''t even begin to imagine what sort of demons Kieran was trying to keep at bay. The feel of Kieran''s finger slowly running up and down his bare arm reminded Jack that he forgot to throw on a sweatshirt. It was a soft touch with no judgment, no hesitation. It was like his experience with Sam''s cat: friendly and little pointy.

    "Yeah. Even stupid cats make me feel better," he said as he smiled to himself. His eyes tracked along Kieran''s arm to his shoulders and chest. Kieran looked more comfortable than a cat. He could curl up right next to Kieran, and they could both take comfort in each other''s company. They were dating. He was pretty sure that was what normal couples did. He was allowed to cuddle with his boyfriend. He scooted closer and sighed happily as an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

    He did it. He made a move of some sort and wasn''t called clingy or stupid.

    "You may do this whenever you like," Kieran whispered into Jack''s hair.

    "I don''t wanna come off as clingy." There was a memory sitting just on the edge, but Jack was too comfortable to grab his phone and make a note. "Remind me later that I''m not a clingy drama queen."

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    "Believe me, my sweet, I''m the clingy one."

    He had yet to see solid proof of Keiran''s clinginess. "Didn''t fight for me when we broke up. Like, nothing. That hurt." A trace of panic and regret went through him and swiftly disappeared.

    "I felt as though you needed your space. You seemed adamant."

    "Still coulda made an excuse to buy me a goodbye lunch. Instead of a break up fuck," Jack said as he looked up to meet Kieran''s eyes. There was enough of a look of doubt there that he wondered if he got it wrong. It was his understanding that parting gestures were normal, but as he thought more about it, a clean break was probably the way to go.

    He frowned as he wondered how and why people would go at it one more time if they weren''t any good together. "Fucking someone you can''t stand anymore¡­ God, that is so fucking sick."

    Kieran laughed and kissed the shell of Jack''s ear. "Then, perhaps, my erring on the side of caution was for the best? I would not wish to taint a favorite location with bad memories."

    Jack nodded and shied away when Kieran''s kisses began edging toward his neck. Thankfully, Kieran easily backed off. No licking, no repeat of the time Kieran tried to get a quick taste.

    He didn''t feel the normal tightness associated with going over a past mistake, and he liked the lack of feeling. A lack of feeling that he wasn''t familiar with.

    Fingers were in his hair, gently massaging his scalp, and he slowly breathed out as he pressed against Kieran. He did his best not to fight against the foggy feeling at the edges of his mind. It was like drifting in and out of a really good dream, and he wanted to keep it that way. "This is nice. Is this you just lightly doing it?"

    "No, you''re fully under, my sweet. Since the moment you made eye contact in the hall."

    He hadn''t noticed, but it wasn''t as startling a revelation this time around. Since he''d been hoping for it, he could give into the cloying comfort that surrounded him. He doubted that Kieran would fuck him over while he was under. If people like himself made money off their blood, then did vampires make money off getting people high? "You guys could so sell this."

    "Perhaps," Kieran agreed. "But few are willing to put in the effort to properly bring a thrall in and out of influence. Antiques and such are easier. I need only be a hoarder and wait long enough."

    Jack lifted his head to look at Kieran''s face. For once, the thought of Kieran''s prolonged existence didn''t cause a frantic dip behind his sternum. He could appreciate how Kieran found a way to survive and thrive through the ages. Almost everything appreciated in value given the right amount of time, and Kieran had the time to sit on random crap for a hundred years. "That''s smart. You''re so smart. I love that."

    There was a lot to Kieran for Jack to love. His looks might have initially warmed Jack up to seeing past his creepy vibe, but there was something to be said about his brand of thoughtfulness and persistence. The way he would back off and let Jack choose how fast their relationship went was a nice little push.

    "I think I love you."

 Favorites

    "I think I love you." There was a subtle shift in Kieran''s eyes. A tiny frown followed by worried brows. "You look sad."

    "I¡­ I have to be careful with my words, my sweet. I do not wish to cause you doubt," Kieran said as he lightly stroked Jack''s cheek with a reassuring smile. "So, instead, we can speak more of this when you are no longer under my influence."

    Jack stared at Kieran a moment longer before his eyes dropped to the side in thought. Right, he was under the influence of magical drugs. If what Kieran was doing even counted as substance abuse. It was sweet that Kieran was willing to wait until he was sober, but that probably meant he said something important and not stupid.

    Unless he said something so stupid that it warranted a serious discussion.

    "I keep wondering if I''m saying stupid shit out loud. Am I? I don''t think I am. You''re not looking at me weird. Or weirder than normal. Not that you look at me weird, but I say some really stupid shit. So I think I''m okay," he said, struggling to come up with his own solid answer.

    "You needn''t worry about that, my sweet siren," Kieran said softly, letting his light touches continue along Jack''s cheek and down to his shoulder.

    "Great." There really was no point in worrying about saying something stupid when everyone else did the same in similar circumstances. Jack could recall some of the stuff Candace said when she had made her special brownies. Once he''d gotten over his initial panic to realize what was happening, he''d ended up in an argument over waffles and cheesecake and which was a better breakfast. "I wonder if they make cheesecake waffles," he said as he picked at his fingernails. He really needed to get more gloves. If he had so many that he couldn''t forget them, then they might help deter him from doing more damage.

    "And gloves you can wear at breakfast," he added, happily going along his train of thought. "Or with sandwiches. Food gloves, but gloves-gloves."

    There was a strange confusion that floated through the background of Jack''s thoughts. "I feel confused."

    "That''s me," Kieran said. He kissed Jack''s temple. "Nothing to worry over."

    "Yeah, I gots lotsa other stuff to worry about." So much that focusing on random feelings was pointless. Jack had a body count that might end up getting added to. He twisted and leaned back against Kieran, propping his legs up on the couch arm. "If Benoit kills Augie, it''s my fault. I don''t want him dead. Again."

    Kieran scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt she''ll put an end to him. Sires rarely dispose of their favorites."

    That caught Jack''s attention. It was said in such a distasteful and bitter tone. He tilted his head to stare up at Kieran''s chin. Kieran had a nice jawline. It would be very kissable if Jack were in a better position. Or Kieran.

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    He reached up and tugged on Kieran''s collar, pulling him closer. He barely managed a light scrape of a kiss to Kieran''s chin. "Did yours ever have a favorite?" he asked after letting go.

    Kieran patted Jack''s chest and looked away. "I would rather not answer that."

    It was a good enough answer for Jack, but certainly not enough to keep his curiosity from picking at a potential scab. And he was beyond keeping his mouth shut. "It was you, wasn''t it?"

    "Until I wasn''t," Kieran whispered.

    "You''re lying." There was another flicker of an emotion that wasn''t Jack''s - a slight panic with no rapid heartbeat, no tightness, no need to escape and hide. He hadn''t meant to cause it, but he was finding it hard to keep his thoughts to himself. "Sorry. You can make me forget. If you wanna talk about it. Or not. Sorry. At least he didn''t threaten to chop your legs off, right? That''s my experience with being someone''s favorite."

    There was a foreign streak of anger. There and gone before he could linger on it, but enough for him to know he was oversharing. "Sorry. I''ll shut up. Maybe. I can''t. Not that I don''t like this," he said, motioning circles around his head. He awkwardly reached up to knock his knuckles against Kieran''s shoulder. "I''m not a therapist, but I can offer you a shoulder to cry on."

    Kieran shook his head. "Thank you for the offer. I¡­" He sighed and looked up at the ceiling before looking back down at Jack. "I got away with a lot after my return. I would steal his thralls and seduce those he had his eye on," he said as he loosely ran his fingers through Jack''s hair. "I was a thorn in his side for much longer than I care to admit."

    "So being a vampire is like being in high school." Eternal High School for the Undead. It sounded like a bad series for teens on a kids'' network. Were there school rivalries between vampires and river ladies? Did his own high school have a rival? Apparently, he had a boyfriend in high school. Who cheated on him. Maybe high school wasn''t worth remembering. "I don''t remember much of high school, so I''m just guessing."

    "I wouldn''t know as I never attended."

    "You never got to go to prom," Jack whined as he solemnly stroked Kieran''s chest. No party streamers, no shitty DJ playing the same songs from the radio and refusing to take a request for even one ska song, no leaving early to find fucking Kyle making out with that one chick from biology. He should have skipped prom. Why the hell did he choose that asshole''s name as his cover? He blamed Tara for bringing it up. And introducing them. "We can have a fake prom to make up for it," he said, mostly to himself.

    "I believe I''ve been subjected to enough parties to more than make up for it." Kieran''s distaste was palpable.

    Jack had to agree. Large parties only led to disappointment. He tried to avoid smaller ones, too. Just in case. "No parties. You''re gonna be my new excuse. Staying in is good? And reading me the phone book?" He gave Kieran a hopeful grin.

    "I''m certain I have much more entertaining literature than a phone book, my sweet siren."

    "Like a Western," Jack eagerly added. "I wanna hear cowboy shit with that accent."

    Kieran gave Jack an amused grimace. "Alright, I''m going to let up now. You should be able to remember everything and still feel relaxed. I do believe you''ll sleep well tonight."

    "I miss sleeping without help. Nightmares suck ass."

    "No nightmares tonight, my sweet," Kieran said softly as he placed a kiss on Jack''s cheek.

 Clear as Day

    "And we''re done," Kieran said softly, his fingers lightly trailing in Jack''s hair. "How are you feeling?"

    "That was... I still feel woozy. Like, damn fucking good buzz, but¡­ Clearer." Jack sat up and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck as he tilted his head side to side, enjoying the light wooziness. He reminded himself that head fucking was to be reserved for really bad nights.

    "Most thralls walk it off for an hour. Sometimes, they get picked up for public drunkenness," Kieran explained with a pointed smile, "but most sit down and wait it out."

    Jack ignored the look and slight jab. "Huh. Yeah. This is nice." Sure, he felt a little dumb for resorting to getting his head messed around with, especially given his past experiences. And he couldn''t help but feel like he said something he shouldn''t have while he was under. He frowned and stared at his lap as he went over everything he said.

    And then he remembered it.

    Clear as day, just as promised. "I¡­ Um. I said I love you." He looked at Kieran in apprehension. The blank stare was not reassuring in the least.

    "You did," Kieran replied with a neutral nod.

    "I, uh¡­ So that''s out there." Jack was detached from the revelation. It mattered, but he could let the thought go for once. He didn''t feel the need to hyper analyze it or its delivery. Even if he fucked up, the world moved on. It was said and done, and it wasn''t like he was lying. If anything, he didn''t have to hype himself up to say it in the future. It was a positive that he could hold onto for once.

    "You can take it back, and we''ll pretend it never happened," Kieran offered, his tone quiet and careful.

    "Too late." Jack slumped back and waved his hand at the ceiling. "I shoulda known I''d say something stupid. I hope I didn''t scare you off." He glanced over and squinted at Kieran. He was pretty sure it would take a lot to scare off a vampire. Maybe a sewer zombie.

    "I love you, too, my sweet siren," Kieran said. He smiled as he leaned in close to place a soft kiss on Jack''s cheek.

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    Jack blinked. The corner of his mouth tugged upward as his stomach did a small somersault. "Okay." Way to drop the ball. But he said it first, so he was probably forgiven for being awkward. He was still too floaty to care.

    "T¨¢ gr¨¢ agam duit," Kieran said before pulling Jack into deep kiss.

    The words sounded familiar. "That''s pretty. You said it earlier. What is it?"

    "Of course you were awake." Kieran looked away uncomfortably. "It''s Irish."

    Jack watched in delight as Kieran blushed. He wanted to see more. "Irish is a language?" he asked with a wide grin.

    Kieran closed his eyes and slowly sighed. He looked over with a forced smile. "Gaelic?"

    "I could make so many gay jokes right now," Jack replied. He may as well embrace his awkward stupidity. No point in hiding what Kieran had already gotten himself into. If he was going to find sugary cereal in the pantry, then he had every right to be an awkward little shit in retaliation.

    Kieran rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he wasn''t able to hide his fondness for Jack. "Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight?"

    The offer wasn''t a complete damper to Jack''s mood. "Um. Next step stuff?"

    It wasn''t like he hadn''t fallen asleep curled up against Kieran before, so did it count as more of a half step? Did it qualify as a compromise? He got to get high off mind fucking, and Kieran would get a cuddle buddy in return. Did it count as a compromise if he wanted to be the cuddle buddy? Did he even really want to, or was he still riding the agreeable high of enthrallment?

    "You may keep your taser on the nightstand." It was a thoughtful offer delivered with a teasing smile.

    Jack sighed and shook his head. "Kinda wondering if it''s reliable. Sure, it worked on Augie, but that mighta just been surprise." He paused and rubbed at his elbow in thought. "I think I used it on a guy when Farragut got me, but nothing happened."

    Kieran frowned. "Thralls can be forced to disregard pain and natural reactions. To do so is against the rules."

    Kieran''s distaste raised Jack''s spirits just a bit. As did the whole concept of Vampire Rules. He hoped they were as stupid as they sounded. "Benoit said you follow the rules. What kinda rules are we talking about?"

    "It''s not as chivalrous as you might think." Kieran gave a tilted smile. "Don''t get caught, and don''t do anything to ruin it for everyone else."

    "Don''t do what Farragut did," Jack said, filling in the blanks.

 Condolences

    For once, Jack could think of his experience without panic scratching at his chest. He wasn''t looking forward to the feeling when it did return. The next time he got high off vampiric mind magic, he should write up some journal entries. He fumbled for his phone and made a note to himself.

    "When we come across one such as yourself, we are to catch and release," Kieran said with a nod. "We''re permitted to entice your kind to stay, but never by force."

    "Like mind fucking?" Jack asked. He raised his brow in challenge.

    "You were keen to brush me off, and your previous experiences tainted what a thrall should be like. It would start well. You were agreeable, almost eager, but then¡­" Kieran broke off with a frustrated sigh. "I had initially given up. But you followed me out of the metaphysical shop, and, well, I decided a different approach was in order."

    A defensive streak against the callout slowly rolled up Jack''s spine. Of course he was eager. He was a touched-starve freak that wanted all of the attention without the attention. "So you went with persistence and being way too available."

    Kieran grinned and propped his arm on the back of the couch. "Exactly. I went with the same approach that initially worked on a dairy maid I once knew. I learned to milk a cow when I was ten because I was so enamored with her." His cocky grin faltered and he looked away. "She let me down rather bluntly when my interest failed to move on."

    "Yeah, I just give up before I even start. It''s easier. Yeah." Easier, sadder, and more pathetic. Instead of dwelling on his failure as a functioning human in the dating scene, he wanted to dwell on Kieran''s farm boy past. "So¡­ Did you go into sheep shearing to impress someone? ''Cuz you seem kinda proud about it. Or was it just part of the family business, and you''re just good at it." He shrugged as Kieran''s smile turned into amusement. "I don''t understand farms."

    "My father wasn''t fond of waiting on the traveling shearers to come ''round, so I took up an apprenticeship," Kieran explained. He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head. "He was torn between his eldest son lowering himself and the convenience I provided. I also managed to gather a few admirers during my apprenticeship. By the time I was twenty, my family did not want for help."

    "Working someplace with eye candy? I get it. I once thought about working a shift or two at a caf¨¦ ''cuz of a waiter, but¡­" Jack tailed off with a frown. It would have been an easy enough job with a little extra income, so why the hell didn''t he take it? What had stopped him? He''d been to enough coffee shops to see a handful of shy workers take an order and stutter out a name. He wouldn''t have stood out.

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    "I think I was told not to get a job," he said slowly, going with the first explanation that stood out to him. "So I just pick up gigs to work around the wording? What the fuck. Wow, I am so beyond fucked up. Not gonna focus on that right now," he said, determined to not let his past ruin his mood. "So you had your pick of wives or something?"

    "Unfortunately, no matter how lovely they were, they were all beneath my father''s expectations. I settled on Oilen." Kieran''s soft smile turned sad as he spoke. "She died of smallpox. Pneumonia took our son the next year."

    "Shit."

    How the hell was Jack supposed to comfort someone who lost a wife and child so close to each other? And what was he supposed to do with the information that Kieran was a widower and a father? He knew it was a possibility, but now there was no ignoring it. Should he get Kieran a Father''s Day card? Or would that be tasteless? It was probably up there with "sorry your whole family''s dead."

    "It''s in the past, from a time when death was common. We mourned, and we moved on, doing our best to survive," Kieran said dismissively.

    It sounded like a lie.

    "Sorry I brought it up," Jack said, just above a whisper. He needed to change the subject, and quick.

    He swallowed and faced Kieran. "Um, yeah. Yeah, I''ll sleep in your bed. But not ''cuz you''re sad. Because I want to. But not in an eager sense. I don''t really come off as desperate, do I?"

    Kieran laughed and shook his head. He reached up and gently stroked Jack''s cheek. "No more than myself, my sweet."

    "At least you hide it better," Jack mumbled.

    Kieran pulled Jack against him, kissing him soundly. "I would be thrilled to not hide how much I adore you, sweet thing. How desperate I am for you to stay with me. I¡­" Kieran sighed and shook his head ruefully. "I''ve been told I can be a bit much."

    Jack couldn''t stop the nervous laugh from bubbling up. He tugged on the bottom of his shirt, fisting his fingers into the fabric. He wanted what Kieran was offering, but could he handle it? Could he handle the attention?

    He stared down at his partially covered hands and licked his lips. "You don''t gotta hide it," he said quietly, "but, uh, no intense PDA stuff. Please."

    "I can be as discreet as needed," Kieran replied.

    Jack looked up and met Kieran''s soft smile. It seemed a lot more open than normal.

 Too Early to Fret

    Refreshed and alert enough to enjoy the arm wrapped around his waist and nose pressed into his neck, Jack awoke in blissful warmth. There had been no nightmares and no waking up to every little noise. He was fully rested.

    And in someone else''s bed. The Break Up Bed.

    So much for his moment of bliss.

    Kieran was pressed fully against his back, breathing slow and deep.

    And just like that, all the anxiety and weight of the world came crashing down around him. Should he move? Wake Kieran up? Sneak out and act like nothing happened? Grab his phone from the night stand and text Tara while he panicked?

    "It''s much too early to fret, sweet thing," Kieran mumbled into Jack''s neck.

    Or Kieran could wake up on his own and make Jack wonder just how long he''d been awake. His spiraling thoughts took another turn. Did the undead function differently than normal humans? Did he really want to know the ins and outs of vampire anatomy? How long did fresh blood last? How much did it do? How often was it needed?

    "If this happens again, am I gonna wake up with morning wood pushing into my back?" He winced and hissed a curse at his stupid mouth. He was rewarded with a tighter hug and Kieran''s suppressed laughter. It was a nice feeling that softened the edge of his embarrassment.

    "How''s about I let that be a surprise?"

    Jack hoped that translated to "no," even if the awkwardness should be on Kieran''s end, not his own.

    "Do you, uh, need to open up?" he asked. He frowned at his wording. He already met his opening up quota last night. He didn''t need to inadvertently pop open another can of worms. "The store. Not like heart to heart. I''m not trying to kick you outta your own bed or anything."

    "I open the store later after feeding. If I open at all. There''s a notice on the door." Kieran snuggled closer against Jack and managed to wiggle his other arm beneath Jack''s side. "Inventory or some such."

    Jack didn''t remember seeing a sign. Then again, why would he be looking for one? Did Kieran post it the day before he went out or after he got back? How far ahead did he plan on sucking people''s blood? "So drinking blood doesn''t energize you? It''s not like a big hit of coffee?"

    "Perhaps if I were to feed on a morning crowd," Kieran replied. "I would say I''m slightly hungover without the usual side effects."

    Hungover and clingy. Jack ran his fingers over the arms crossing his stomach. There was a grounding comfort to be found in Kieran''s arms, and he smiled. "You went after drunks."

    Kieran hummed in agreement. "I believe it was a bachelorette party. One of them may have been under the influence of something else."

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Jack rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder. In the low light peeking through the sides of the curtains, he could just make out Kieran''s grin. "Druggie."

    "Second hand," Kieran clarified with an air of indignity. "I don''t believe it counts in the grand scheme of things."

    Jack relaxed back against the pillow and laced his fingers through Kieran''s. He sighed as soft kisses were placed along the shell of his ear. "Apparently, drugs fuck up my blood. Like ecstasy. I found out the hard way."

    Kieran''s kisses stopped, and Jack regretted mentioning it.

    "I''m sorry you had to find out in such a way, my sweet," Kieran whispered. "If you have any other questions, I''ll do my best to answer them. I knew someone else with blood like yours. He was constantly under the influence of one substance or another." His tone turned lighter as he continued. "It made for an interesting Prohibition."

    "Yeah?"

    "He died several times over and took up moonshining. It was a profitable business." Kieran trailed kisses down to Jack''s neck, and he paused to breathe in deeply. "Moreso than selling imports and antiques."

    A brief hint of disappointment ran through Jack. From the sound of it, being turned into a vampire wouldn''t change his blood. Not that such a revelation would apply to him. "Criminal."

    "Never convicted for moonshining."

    "Mind fucker."

    "Mmm. I''m told I''m rather good at it," Kieran said and he nipped at Jack''s ear.

    Jack giggled and lightly pushed Kieran away. "Don''t say it like that!"

    Kieran unwound his arms from Jack''s middle and sat up with a look of concern. "Was that too much?"

    "I, uh, no? I''m okay?" Jack rolled onto his back to meet Kieran''s gaze and shrugged. "Just don''t slobber on my ear, and we''re good. I can¡­ I like kissing. Cuddling. Some touches. That far. Further, and I just¡­"

    He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. It was his first real and invested relationship. He was already over the first couple hurdles - as well as a few he hadn''t signed up for. Kieran deserved to know where the line was without accidentally crossing it.

    "I lose interest. I get bored. I''m sorry. I can''t fake being into sex." He made the mistake of looking over at Kieran. He wanted things to work out. He chewed on his lip and looked away. "If you really, really wanted to go at it, I guess we could try something? If I''m allowed to not pay attention and not really participate. And you keep your¡­stuff to yourself." He frowned and covered his face with his hands. "That sounds so much worse. I''m sorry. It''s just not fun for me. Other people''s¡­stuff on me, in me, just no thanks. I don''t like feeling wet with other people''s sweat and spit and cum and just yuck. Sorry."

    "No need to apologize, my sweet," Kieran said. "So everything that would lead up to sex would be fine? Just shy of serious foreplay?"

    Jack''s brows furrowed in thought. He was fine with cuddles, kisses, and caresses. They were the reassurance of another person in his life caring about him and wanting to be there. "I guess? Without groping? Why?" What did he just sign up for? Could he take it back if it proved to be too much?

    Kieran smiled mischievously, and Jack narrowed his eyes, tension already beginning to build. In a moment, Kieran was above him, hands on either side of his head. He froze, eyes wide. He flinched when Kieran dipped down and kissed the side of his mouth before pushing away and getting out of bed.

    Jack stared at the ceiling, clueless as to how he should feel. "You''re an asshole!"

    "An asshole who''s loved," Kieran shot back with a loving smile.

    Jack''s breath caught, and he couldn''t disagree. Already, he was melting under that smile that held just a hint of cockiness.

 Close Enough

    As Kieran went about his morning routine of opening curtains and deciding what to wear, Jack took in bits of the bedroom he hadn''t noticed before. A small collection of pencil drawings were framed and hanging on the wall above the large dresser. The subjects all looked similar, and Jack squinted at one of the men who looked suspiciously like Kiearn. The eyes were a perfect match, but the nose was all wrong. Family members of some sort, but no sign of Kieran.

    A soft curse came from the bedside as Kieran looked at his phone.

    Jack glanced over. "You okay?"

    "I''d forgotten a delivery is scheduled for today," Kieran replied with a sigh.

    "No lazy day?"

    "Not for myself, no. Benoit saw to that when she shared my contact information with a few others." Kieran grimaced as he met Jack''s eyes. "It was a welcome distraction, but I find it is no longer needed."

    Jack bit back an apology.

    "Are you able to designate owners and a percentage owed in that database of yours?" Kieran asked as he set his phone on the nightstand.

    "Yeah, I can add a couple more fields for sorting and stuff."

    "Wonderful. I would be grateful. Especially if you were to remain out of the shop until two."

    "For reasons?" Jack couldn''t decide whether or not the request for avoiding the shop made him want to be down there even more. "I mean, I can smell like a creamsicle if you want."

    Kieran''s nose scrunched up. "Moira''s harmless, but she can be¡­"

    Jack''s mind happily filled in the blank Kieran was struggling to fill. He was having his own trouble coming up with polite variations for his growing list. "Pushy? Bratty?"

    "Tiresome. I''m thinking she''ll get on well with Lindsey, but I don''t believe either have earned a conversational partner as yet." Kieran held Jack''s hand and ran his thumb over the knuckles. "If you wish to meet her, you needn''t change your scent."

    There was something in the way Kieran spoke that had Jack wondering about the true meaning of Kieran''s warning. "You said until two. When''s she getting here?"

    "Ten."

    "You seriously think this lady''s gonna talk your ear off for four fucking hours?" He couldn''t imagine anyone having that much to say. Then again, he''d overheard enough conversations at the library and various coffee shops to know that some people were lonely enough to unload everything on some unsuspecting worker.

    "If only it were one-sided. That, I''ve perfected," Kieran said with a rueful smile. "No, she expects a proper conversation. And tea."

    It sounded like teatime with Benoit. He couldn''t see something like that lasting for hours. Unless it was with Kieran and books were involved. "Yeah, I''ll skip that."

    Kieran laughed softly and nodded. He got up and left the bedroom, scoffing as he crossed the threshold. "Oh, do go lurk elsewhere. I haven''t bled him dry, you stupid ghost."

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    "Please don''t jump me," Jack called out before slumping back into Kieran''s bed. He should get up and be productive. If Kieran was stuck with entertaining someone, then it would be kind of shitty of him to just hang out in bed. He grabbed his phone and sighed at the time. It was barely past seven, and he was fully rested and awake. He had an entire day to be productive.

    He didn''t want to stare at lines of code for hours on end. Or sort through paperwork. Maybe there was something else he could do. Like being helpful. He wasn''t a great cook, so making breakfast or lunch was out of the question. He could make the bed. He might not do a great job, but at least it would be something.

    He got up and began tugging and pulling at the sheets. The bedspread ended up covering most of Jack''s lack of talent, and he fluffed up the pillows in an attempt to pull the whole thing together. He stepped back to survey the damage.

    It was the thought that counted. He caught a whiff of bacon, and his attempt at helpfulness couldn''t possibly compare to breakfast.

    What else could he do? What was normal and appreciated? If he asked Kieran, then it wouldn''t be much of a thoughtful surprise. If only Kieran had a cat, then he could do the litter box. That was always a good and easy option.

    Sam. Sam would be the safe and sane voice of reason that might even tell him it wasn''t needed. He tapped the grumpy pig on his phone and waited.

    "Fairchild."

    "Hey¡­ Question."

    "Forty-five?" Sam asked.

    Jack frowned in confusion at the response. What was forty-five? The familiar edge of nausea slowly crept up his throat. "I''m thirty," he said defensively.

    "Twenty-nine."

    "Close enough. When he''s eighty-five, I''ll be seventy." This wasn''t the conversation he wanted.

    "Right. I can''t wait to hear all about your silver fox in ten years."

    His silver fox would still look the same. For many, many, many years to come. Too bad he couldn''t use it as an argument. The voice of reason was proving to be too reasonable, and he had yet to ask any questions.

    He dropped onto the bed, rumpling the bedspread. He closed his eyes and sighed. "So anyway, what''s a good way to help out?"

    "With planning a Christmas party? Planning to come this year?" There was a hint of disbelief in Sam''s voice. "The invitation extends to the boyfriend," he grudgingly added.

    Jack had already opted out several times over, but now his best excuse for ditching had been invited. "I''ll let him know, but that''s not¡­ I mean help around the house kinda stuff. Here. In return for staying."

    "Cleaning is usually helpful. Dusting, scrubbing, vacuuming. The usual."

    He made his way into the study and eyed the waste basket that had somehow edged closer to his pile of discarded boxes and crumpled up papers. They were already in their own containment zone in the form of a shopping bag, so that had to count for something in the cleanliness department. The empty ramen cups in the bag probably counted against it. His crappy lifestyle was infecting Kieran''s pristine environment.

    And Kieran''s lack of confrontational ability was coming off as passive aggressive. Unless Kieran thought he was just being polite.

    The wastebasket taunted Jack.

    "Like taking out the trash?" he asked, looking from the basket to his makeshift trash bag.

    "Exactly."

    The fleeting moment of coming up with something to do was quickly dashed by uncertainty. "And everything in a trash can is good to throw?"

    "For normal people, yes," Sam replied without judgment.

    "Okay. I can do that."

    "If you ever need practice, we have about five, plus recycling." The understanding tone had quickly changed to teasing.

    "You''re so funny. And yes, forty-five," Jack said as he stooped to move the bag into the wastebasket. "I can hear the jealousy."

    "And I can hear my mom correcting you. Have fun with the trash."

    "Sure."

    Jack sighed as he hung up. He would have breakfast, take out the trash, and maybe dust something. If he saw dust.

 Trash Collection

    After breakfast, entertainment came in the form of cleaning up as Kieran set about preparing tea. Jack used the opportunity to poke through all the cupboards to find out exactly where all the cleaning supplies were kept.

    Under the sink, he found a post-it note on the inside of the door declaring that rubbing alcohol and peroxide were in the medicine cabinet with the bandaids. It was in his own handwriting, but he had no memory of writing it nor sticking it to the door. The other door had a note telling him where to find the dustpan.

    He waited until Kieran left before starting on collecting all the trash in the apartment.

    He moved from room to room, emptying trash into his bag. In the study, his phone pinged with a text, and he welcomed the distraction. As he read it, he came to the conclusion that it was way too early to deal with Tara.

    y didnt u tell me my basement smells like cinnamon??? i found some old cookies in a sewing tin! JACKPOT! stale but sooo good

    Way, way too early.

    He tucked his phone away in favor of gathering up his trash into the bag. It might be tedious, but it was easy. And most of it was proving to be his.

    He moved on to the living room, his heart sinking at the sight of a few wrappers he''d left on the coffee table. At least he hadn''t left the wrappers there long enough to gain a migrating trash can.

    Jack looked out the window into the back alley. A couple early morning shoppers decked out in heavy winter coats darted through, nodding to one another as they headed in opposite directions. He fingered the thinner fabric of his shirt before sighing and grabbing his coat. Was it too late to ask for an oversized sweater for Christmas? There was about a week left, surely someone still needed an idea for a gift.

    The thought of potential gifts gripped his stomach and twisted violently. He was running out of time, and he had no idea what to get Kieran. He didn''t think he''d luck out and find something small and easy again. And certainly not for near-free. What did you get a guy who had everything?

    He grabbed his coat from where it had been tossed over the back of the couch and pulled it on. He wanted something bigger to hide in.

    Before heading down to the first floor, he double checked the combination to the dumpster. No sense in being stuck out in the cold alley, staring at the lock in confusion. Again.

    He reached the bottom of the stairs and took a deep breath as he crossed the spot where Augie had temporarily died. There was too much happening too quickly for his tastes. There was a part of him that missed his old, foggy lifestyle of existing day to day. It wasn''t great, but it was familiar. Familiar, dull, but still full of fear.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Even though his life had taken something of a hectic turn, he didn''t feel the same overwhelming sense of dread whenever he went out. He didn''t feel the need to constantly be aware of his surroundings. Sure, he knew too many vampires, but he knew of at least one that had his back.

    He stopped short of the doorway leading out to the shop and listened for a moment. A woman''s voice carried through the air, followed by short replies from Kieran.

    "And here is my sweet Genevieve on her wedding day. The tea set was a wedding gift, you know. I believe it was intended as an insult, so it was never used. Completely worthless at the time, but now? Oh, if Winifred knew how much it was worth now, she would turn in her grave! At least a semester''s worth of tuition, I should think."

    "If not, then it should cover the cost of books," Kieran replied.

    "I do hope it helps. David''s not doing well," she said with a sigh. "It used to be so easy to update credentials, but with the way the world''s changing? My network of contacts is falling apart! They expect you to live in your mailbox! The electronic one, that is. Constant availability. It''s dreadful!"

    "Too true."

    "You have the right idea. Self-sustaining reclusivity. If only I''d thought to hoard the souvenirs from my travels, but I prefer to pass them to my living relatives. I saw young Shannon on one of those auction shows sometime last year. She was getting an old brooch of mine evaluated. I don''t believe she gave in and sold it. Granted, they did say it could be auctioned for as much as five thousand!"

    "A tempting fee, to be sure."

    Hugging the doorjamb, Jack poked his head out. Just past the register he could see the top of Kieran''s head. It looked like the vampiric tea party was taking place on a pair of chairs Kieran had for sale. If that meant Jack was allowed to sit on the merchandise, then he could do a little work in the shop later. A small part of his fantasy would be attained.

    Cold creeped up his arm, and he looked over in time to see Lindsey manifest into something opaque.

    "I get to say hi!" she whispered in unrestrained excitement.

    "Yay?"

    She rolled her eyes. "Some of us actually like talking to people and don''t need an excuse to avoid it," she said, pointing at the trash bag.

    Jack grimaced and looked from the bag to the back door. It wasn''t escaping and avoiding a conversation if he was warned to keep clear. "Can I just live vicariously through you?"

    "Whatever. You go do boring stuff, I''m gonna go make a new friend," she said as she happily moved into the shop.

    With a shake of his head, Jack checked his phone for the combination. He frowned at how he managed to flip the numbers around in less than five minutes.

    Outside, he kept his eyes on the dumpster, doing his best to ignore anyone using the alley as a shortcut. He didn''t need a curious audience for his inability to retain a handful of numbers.

    With the trash in the dumpster and combination lock restored, Jack relaxed a little and turned to head back in.

    "Look at what I''ve caught."

    Right in his ear. Male. Smug.

    Resignation was the only clear thought Jack had as an arm wrapped around his neck.

 Third Times the Charm

    "Morning, kiddo!"

    The man leaning over Jack looked like he walked out of a 1920s gangster biopic. He had on a smart, three-piece suit, a hat with a jaunty tilt, a pleasant grin, and the reddest hair Jack had ever seen. He looked familiar.

    "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get you alone? But with you out of the way, things''ll be a lot easier. No more distraction of ambrosia blood! Just sit tight, and it''ll all be over soon. Oh, and a word of advice? Stop being a donor. You''re addictive. Might run into someone who''s after more than just one hit."

    "And you''re not?!" It was enough to jog the memory of an old photo of Kieran and Mister Rebound standing in front of a car. It looked like Rebound was also looking to get back together with Kieran. What had Jack''s life become? And was it going to be a constant stream of Kieran''s exes popping up?

    "I prefer my blood on the verge of alcohol poisoning, and that doesn''t mix well with your type."

    Jack shifted and frowned at the feel of his phone. He pulled it from his back pocket. He''d only lost about an hour, but it had been enough to get Tara on his ass. That was a good sign. He warily glanced up at his captor.

    "You''ll notice you have some missed calls. You can talk to your human friends. Just not the pointy friends," Rebound said as he paced around the room. "Break the addiction! Let them hash things out without you in the mix."

    "I think I''m missing something."

    "This is an intervention."

    Jack floundered in confusion. An intervention for him or for Kieran?

    His phone rang, and the grumpy pig lit up his screen.

    After a quick glance at Jack''s screen, Rebound raised his eyes to Jack. "Just a friend?"

    "Yeah, he''s a cop." Jack''s stomach turned restless as he waited for a reaction. This would be what got his phone confiscated. He should have lied and claimed it was a call from work.

    Rebound''s eyes darted back to the screen, and he smirked. "You may answer."

    It wasn''t the answer Jack had been expecting. This was easily his weirdest kidnapping, and he needed to reevaluate his life since he had a scale for kidnappings. "Thanks?" He accepted the call and forced a smile. "Hey, I''m alive."

    "Where are you?!"

    He looked around. It was an unfurnished room with peeling wallpaper. His best guess was a cheap motel with weekly rates or an abandoned apartment complex. "Uh¡­ In a room?"

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    "Lincoln and Shore. As I said, out of the way," Rebound replied.

    On the other end of town where Jack wasn''t as familiar with the bus routes. His chest tightened at the thought of how close he was to the city limits. There was a Greyhound station less than a mile away. He was steps away from leaving. He couldn''t leave. No leaving, ever. No escape. He had to behave, or else.

    He zoned back into reality at the sharp tone of Sam''s voice.

    "Jack, who is with you?"

    He glanced up at his mystery captor. "Some guy."

    "If I come to you, will you still be there?" Sam asked, his voice slow and careful.

    "Can my friend come get me?" He could hear Sam''s incredulous muttering on the other end. At least he wasn''t the only one confused and out of his element. Sam was finally getting a taste of what Jack''s life was like.

    "Only if you stay away from Kieran and Precious Widdle Augustin," Rebound said, ending with a disgusted sneer.

    Jack was definitely missing something. A lot of something. "Can I half promise that?" he quietly asked. All his stuff was at Kieran''s.

    "No. This is an intervention. Though I suppose I could always pour you down the drain?"

    Jack couldn''t tell if Rebound was joking. There was a gleeful menace to his already manic voice, but Tara would get the same tone when talking about some of her co-workers at the gym. He decided not to risk it. "I''m good." He raised his phone back to his ear. "Yeah, we''re all good for you to come get me."

    "I''m on my way," Sam replied with an unsaid promise.

    "Right. I''ll be here." He hung up, and his phone immediately rang. He sighed as he answered. "I''m fine. I think I''m being hazed for being part of the antique club or something."

    "What?! Jack, you do not hang up when you are in an unfamiliar place around unfamiliar people. Stay on the goddamned line!"

    "Yeah. Okay. I''m sorry. I''ll be waiting on the corner." He glanced at Rebound and back to his phone. He did his best to muffle it in his coat. "How long do I have to stay away?" he quietly asked.

    Rebound''s eyes narrowed as he looked over Jack in unveiled judgment. "You seem like a nice kid. I''m keeping you alive. Do you have any idea how easy it is for someone like you to die from overfeeding?"

    The concern was touching in its own way. Although, Jack would have liked the warning to have come sooner. He could have used this brand of intervention back with Farragut. "Okay, but, uh¡ª"

    "Kid. Trust me. It ain''t real," Rebound hissed. "You''re predisposed to offer up your neck. Get it?" He rolled his eyes with a disgusted scoff, and stalked out of the room.

    Jack''s fears had just been confirmed, and now he was alone with his own thoughts. He looked down at his phone, half-listening to Sam''s continuing complaints. Funny how Sam hadn''t relayed any proper warnings about Kieran.

    He frowned and glared out the window. Why didn''t Candace warn him off Kieran? She insisted his relationship was a good thing. Maybe he was one of those little fish that hung out with sharks, or a bird picking around at crocodile teeth. He really didn''t want to have this conversation with Kieran or mention the fact that he was at the point of accepting his role in a nature documentary if it meant he didn''t turn up dead.

    His vampire had better get him a really nice trellis for the nest or den or whatever vampires lived in.

 Kinda Kidnapped

    Out on the street, Jack looked back up at the building. He shook his head as he turned back to the street, hoping he wouldn''t have to wait too long. In front of him was a bus stop with a metal bench and an inch of untouched snow. He had nothing to fidget with apart from his phone, and he was in the wrong neighborhood to be distracted. At least he''d been smart enough to grab his coat when taking out the trash.

    "I''m sticking you in my pocket so I can dust off a bench," he said.

    "Be quick."

    Jack huffed at the terse reply. Why was Sam mad at him? He didn''t ask to get kidnapped. He shoved his phone into his pocket as he rounded the bench and busied himself with dusting off a spot. A soft snuffling drew his attention, and he looked up, expecting someone walking their dog. Instead, he saw a large black stray sniffing along the edge of the building. Around its neck was a reflective yellow collar with a phone number written in black and a little red heart tag dangling in front. Maybe not a feral stray, but he wasn''t about to get close enough to call the number on the collar.

    The dog snorted and looked up sharply, meeting Jack''s eyes. Its ears flicked, and its attention went to the alley. Teeth bared and growling, it stalked toward the alley and disappeared around the corner. A pair of startled shouts erupted, and Jack took a step back, stumbling off the curb.

    He was going to be mauled by a stray dog. Who should he send his farewell text to? It was getting to the point where he was going to need to set up an automated message to send out en masse the next time something happened. With a shaking hand, he raised his phone to his ear.

    "So¡­ There''s a dog out here."

    "I''m almost there."

    The dog exited the alley and stared at Jack.

    It wasn''t immediately pouncing on him, so that had to be a good thing. If it came down to it, he might be able to distract the dog by throwing his phone at it. Either they''d play a little fetch, or he''d just piss it off even more.

    He flinched at the sudden warning chirp of a police siren, and the dog trotted off. Sam was currently his savior in more ways than one, and he was looking forward to the mini interrogation he was about to undergo. He stepped back onto the curb and watched as the unmarked cop car slowed to a stop in front of him. He gave an awkward wave before letting himself in and brushing the snow from his hair.

    "I''m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that you aren''t pressing charges," Sam said through gritted teeth.

    Jack stared at his lap. There was no denying the annoyance in Sam''s voice. "It''s just relationship drama," he said with a shrug. "One of Kieran''s exes, I think? He doesn''t want me seeing Kieran. Or Augie. Did I walk into some weirdo threesome thing? I don''t think he''s a stalker."

    "Professionally and personally, I''m going to suggest you get off your ass and do something about this." Sam threw a glare at Jack and rolled his eyes at the lack of response. "I''m taking you to the station with me, so you can file a report."

    Jack looked up as his stomach dropped. "I really don''t think he meant anything by it. I''m gonna see what Kieran knows about him."

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    He opened his texts, keeping an eye on the tightening of Sam''s knuckles. A petty part of him wanted to bring up Tara''s failed camping trip with Tanned Sex God Shane and get some of the attention off himself. Why couldn''t Tara have gotten in contact with him first?

    If only he''d been conscious for any of her attempts to call and text, then he wouldn''t have Sam worrying over him. He scrolled through the missed texts and sighed to himself. Tara had given up and declared she was on the hunt after only half an hour of trying. He shot a quick text to her, letting her know he was alive and well for however long Sam was willing to put up with him.

    He moved on to text Kieran.

    hey u remebr a redhed?

    very chicago gangster

    I know a Thomas who matches that description. He''s dead. Lindsey saw his spirit pass on.

    Please do not tell me he''s lingering about. You may hide in the bedroom if needed.

    Apparently no one had told Kieran about the fun little kidnapping Jack had been subjected to. At least Sam hadn''t harassed Kieran over it. Yet.

    k so hes not rely ded

    kinda kidnap me

    from the aly

    prolly on camra

    we shud watc latr

    There was a long pause before Kieran called. Jack glanced at Sam and declined the call.

    w sam, don''t call, im safe

    I see. Did this just happen?

    no hour ago

    was kinda wierd

    I am left to believe some claims Thomas had previously made that I presumed to be drunken delusions.

    tom dosnt like me seing u

    said this was a intrventin

    I''ll take care of this misunderstanding.

    You may wish to tell Mrs. Fairchild that her reading was nearly spot on, but Thomas is neither malicious nor mischievous. He is simply foolish.

    k dont tell him i talkd 2u

    i dont think hes all ther

    His ability to function greatly depends on how inebriated he is, and it is a rare occasion that he is sober. He''s prone to overdosing.

    There was something about the statement that left Jack wondering what he was forgetting. "So¡­ The guy that kinda kidnapped me¡ª"

    "Kinda?" Sam scoffed. He pulled to a stop and shot Jack an incredulous stare. "Seriously? Jack, this is not¡ª"

    "Kieran says he''s pretty much a druggie and makes bad decisions when he''s fucked up," Jack rushed to say. A little exaggeration to downplay the truth wouldn''t hurt anyone. "So maybe he should just be sent to rehab? Can I put that in my report thing?"

    "Put whatever you like, just make the report."

    Jack swallowed and ducked his head in response to the grumble. His afternoon was supposed to be boring due to cleaning, not embarrassing due to paperwork. He didn''t have his wallet on him. He wasn''t looking forward to asking Sam to fill in the blanks.

    sam makn me file report w polic

    sorry

    It would not be the first time.

    that maks me feel gud thnx

    tht wuz sarcasm

    I do apologize for this, my sweet siren. I will make this up to you. I promise.

 Vampiric Socialization

    "Something important?" asked Moira. She raised an expectant brow as she stared critically at Kieran''s phone as he returned to the seat across from her.

    "Yes, but nothing I can help with at present," Kieran admitted as he replied to Jack''s texts. "Surprising, certainly." Had he known earlier that Thomas was still alive, he would have preemptively strangled the idiot. He should have kept in touch better.

    "Hm. I suppose I have taken up quite a bit of your time," Moira said with an indignant sniff.

    Kieran looked up with a smile. Fake or not, it would have to do. "Nonsense. It''s been lovely catching up."

    "You introduced that poor dead girl to me." Moira turned to face Lindsey and smiled. "Lindsey, you are a treasure and wonderful company. I would gladly whisk you away to be my travel companion, but this poor soul needs the socialization more than I do. He''s dreadfully out of practice."

    Lindsey beamed. "Aww! That''s so sweet! Sometimes, I can answer the phone. If you ever wanna chat about stuff, I''m here. We could maybe even get a landline." She looked to Kieran and gave him a blinding grin. "For me. And my friends. It could be a real store phone. I can be the receptionist!"

    Kieran frowned as he looked away from the pair of eager smiles. Getting the card reader Lindsey wanted was bad enough. It would require updating everything, and he didn''t want to be a nuisance by asking Jack for help. And he certainly didn''t want to think about how Lindsey would answer a landline, but the visual of the mouthpiece laying on a table with her happily bent over it was already there. How sad was it that a ghost had more friends than him?

    "Very well."

    "See? She''s doing you wonders," Moira said, nodding. "You''ve not rolled your eyes once since I got here."

    That, or he was lonely enough to endure the social torments of others.

    ---

    It was early evening when Jack arrived, dropped off in front of the store. Kieran watched in concern as Jack slammed the door shut and waved for the car to move on. It was going to be yet another mess to clean up.

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    Jack turned with a scowl and marched up to the door, looking over his shoulder to motion once more. He opened the door and glared around the shop until his eyes fell upon Kieran. "So who is Thomas?"

    Lindsey appeared beside Jack. "Thomas? As in ghost Thomas? Tommy ghost is still here? How?!" She looked to Kieran in confusion before her gaze unfocused. She shook her head and shrugged. "Seriously, how? I don''t feel anything."

    Kieran looked away from the expectant stares. "He''s not here. At present. Not exactly. He is something of a medium. He could always see and sense ghosts. He also claimed astral projection as a talent later on."

    "And?" Jack pressed.

    Kieran sighed and grimaced as he looked away.

    Jack crossed his arms with an exasperated huff. "Another ex?"

    "Heavens, no. I''m his sire," Kieran said with an edge of disgust. Despite seeing Thomas naked a number of times, he couldn''t imagine anything more intimate than friendship.

    "Your son kidnapped me?"

    "Confidant would be a more apt term," he said even though Jack''s guess as to the relationship dynamic hadn''t been far off. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lindsey slowly fade away. He wished he had the option to fade out of existence, but there was too much work involved to make sure it stuck.

    "So your bosom buddy is playing anti-matchmaker?"

    "I''ll speak with him. Once I find him," Kieran promised. Without limiting Lindsey''s comings and goings, he was unsure as to how he could protect his property from an invasive spirit. He hoped Lindsey would be more proactive with paying attention to who was lingering.

    "You got a lot of speaking to do with a lot of people. You know that, right? You''re gonna actually do that, right?" Jack said, his voice wavering with desperation. He glanced away and grabbed at his sleeves.

    "Yes."

    "Kieran, I¡ª I''m trying, but I can''t stay with you if you won''t set up your own fucking boundaries, and I end up in the fucking crossfire. I don''t wanna leave again, but¡­" Jack swallowed and looked up and away, shoulders hunching. "I will. For good. ''Cuz, y''know, Tommy-boy kinda threatened me if I got close to you or Augie. I don''t know what he''s capable of. I''m trusting you when you say you''ll take care of it. So¡­ Take care of it. Please. Now."

    Kieran nodded. "I''ll¡­ Very well. I''m not certain how to reach Thomas, but I can at least get Augustin sorted."

    He went to get his phone from behind the register. Moira, as talkative as she was, had been right with how distressing it was to be so easily accessible at all times. Writing a letter and waiting a few hours or weeks for a response would have given him time to process. It was bad enough that a man he was already mourning was alive and mostly well.

 Warning Bells

    All too soon, Benoit answered the phone. "Kieran O''Byrne. How interesting to hear from you."

    Benoit''s even tone set Kieran on edge. What sort of story had Augustin told this time to ruin the slight progress he''d made with her? "Good evening, Colette. I am hoping that you have a way to reach Augustin." He glanced at Jack and closed his eyes at the expectant glare. "In a timely manner, if possible."

    "For what purpose?" There was a smile in her voice that set off every warning bell.

    "To¡­" He didn''t want to do this, to effectively shut someone out of his life again, but when forced to make the choice between Jack and Augustin, he had to make a decision.

    He''d known Augustin longer, had loved him fully and deeply. His chest still ached at the thought of what they''d lost. They had shared experiences and acquaintances. Everything for a solid relationship that would last years. And it had lasted many years until it didn''t.

    With Jack, they were fresh and fragile. They were each finding their new place in the relationship and rebuilding what little they had to begin with. Jack was still skittish and uncertain, but he was growing more confident with each day, and Kieran was eager to see where it would lead. But what would happen if and when it ended? He already knew the answer to that.

    Jack had the decency to say if he was leaving.

    "We need to clear the air," Kieran firmly replied.

    "I will escort him presently."

    Kieran bristled at the declaration. He was already going to have an audience with Jack present; he certainly did not require Benoit as well. "You really¡ª"

    "We will be there within the hour," Benoit said coldly, leaving no room for argument. "If he refuses to tell me the truth, then you will. As you should have done to begin with."

    As far as Kieran was concerned, it was a private matter between him and Augustin. No one else needed to know the specifics as to what happened behind closed doors. This was the high cost of keeping Jack. Love only went so far, and everyone had their breaking point. He knew where his lay. He didn''t wish to find out where Jack''s truly lay. "Very well."

    "Good."

    The line went dead, and Kieran dropped his hand. Jack was worth the turmoil he felt, and he prayed he was strong enough to go through with the looming meeting and the promise of just how much he could put up with. Jack had pointed out how manipulative Augustin was. Could Kieran also be described as such when he dropped his own hints at how far he was willing to go to please another?

    "You earned this," Jack said as he stared at the floor. "I''ve seen that look in the mirror enough to know."

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    "Then you''ll understand my dour mood later tonight," Kieran bit out. He grimaced and sighed. Now was not the time to lash out. "I¡­ I may wish to be alone." He would tough it out if need be. If his silence and refusal to engage in speaking or touching would be accepted, then he could pretend he was moping alone.

    "If you want, I can stay at my place tonight," Jack quietly offered as he rubbed his elbow. He glanced up at Kieran, the very picture of uncertain insecurity.

    Kieran shook his head. Relief blossomed in his chest, and he smiled. "My room is privacy enough."

    "Not gonna be playing with lighters or candles or anything?" Jack asked, briefly meeting Kieran''s eyes then settling just to the side. One corner of his mouth was tilted upward.

    Kieran let out a surprised laugh. "Oh, no. No fireplaces for me to dispose of old letters. No letters left, I''m afraid. I was rather thorough in that regard. Perhaps a photograph if I come across one." It would seem it was finally time to go through his files and properly dispose of all past reminders of his failure.

    "Yeah, no. Those are mine now." A blush crept over Jack''s cheeks, and he looked away as he reached up, brushed his ear, then dropped his hand in favor of fidgeting with his sleeves. "But if you feel like being a pyro, do it in the tub."

    "I''ll keep that in mind." Kieran hadn''t felt such gratitude in years. Jack might have been comparatively young, but he at least tried to understand. And, sometimes, Jack understood a little too well. Having one''s soul on display for another was both comforting and terrifying.

    "You can borrow my doorstop for extra privacy."

    "Better than a desk, I suppose. But nowhere near as satisfying."

    "Okay. But we''re good?" Jack asked, gesturing between them. "You''re not¡­mad-mad at me? I get being mad at me, ''cuz I get mad at Sam for making me do things for my own good, but¡­ Yeah. Not mad-mad?"

    The question took Kieran by surprise. How could he ever be angry with Jack for something that was his own fault? "I''m not upset with you. I just wish it didn''t have to come to this."

    "You don''t¡­" Jack sighed and waved at the door. "You don''t have to blacklist him from your life, just your goddamned bed. Y''know?" He sighed and rubbed at his neck as he stared at the door. "I mean, I mighta been open to an open relationship at first since I''m not putting out, but him? That''s a whole other level of clingy I want nothing to do with. Go find some other boyfriend or girlfriend."

    "It was the emotional attachment I enjoyed, not the sex." It was a kind offer that Kieran might have gladly taken under different circumstances. He looked at Jack, and his stomach dropped at the intrigued stare. He thought he''d managed to keep his voice calm and controlled, but it would seem he failed.

    "Please tell me he sucks," Jack asked, a gleeful hint to his voice.

    Kieran could easily answer as to Augustin''s performance. No elaborating on actions would be needed. He smiled luridly and cocked his head to the side. "When it suits him. How much do you wish to know?"

    Jack''s eyes narrowed as he pressed his lips together in disgust. "Probably not that much. I don''t trust that smile."

    "I would call him something of a selfish lover. You wouldn''t realize it at first, but he''s the one who ultimately chooses what to do. And it''s a rather slow introduction. Looking back on it, he had a level of patience I wouldn''t have expected of him."

    A frown crossed Jack''s face, and Kieran could only guess as to what was going through his mind. His reluctance to admit to his past endeavors would be all for naught when Benoit arrived with her prey.

    But that didn''t mean he had to spell it out at that very moment.

 A Step Ahead

    The darkening blush on Jack''s cheeks left Kieran in an uncomfortable silence. Whatever was running through Jack''s head couldn''t possibly be worse than what had actually happened. But with how the world had changed and odd little habits becoming the norm, there was a slim possibility that Jack''s imagination was painting a much, much worse picture than anything Kieran had participated in.

    "Okay, so why were you even with him?" Jack asked as he scratched at the back of his neck. His eyes darted from Kieran to the shop''s front door and back.

    Why, indeed? "He''s kind, attentive¡­" Kieran trailed off. There was more, but it didn''t matter anymore. There was nothing to save. Nothing he wanted to save.

    Jack crossed his arms and gave Kieran a doubtful stare. His frown deepened as Kieran''s silence lingered.

    "I suppose he made a special effort for me," Kieran quietly admitted. "I loved him for a reason. He knows what he wants and will pursue it. He is persistent, and it is hard to turn him away. He knows exactly what to say and when to say it."

    "You mean he''s manipulative," Jack said, voice flat.

    "I wouldn''t call it that. Exactly." It was true, but that didn''t mean it had to be said out loud.

    "I would."

    "You don''t know him like I do," Kieran said in a weak attempt to justify his past choices. It felt like it was one mistake after the other. And where did that place him with Jack?

    "No, I have fresh eyes on him, and I can tell you, he''s a fucking manipulative asshole. He used me to get to you, and you know it. He just didn''t know that we already had a past. Otherwise, he''d fucking use me another way. He tried to." Jack let out an exasperated huff and shook his head. He raised a hand and gestured rapidly at Kieran. "I told you about it, remember?"

    "Is it possible to simply leave this all in the past?" Dead and buried, and where Kieran wished he could sometimes be.

    "You heard Candy. Communication will solve Mr. Wands." Jack looked away and nodded to himself. He crossed his arms again, his fingers gripping tighter than before.

    Kieran laughed softly. "I suppose so."

    "You said it yourself: she''s a witch. So that makes her magically right or something. Which is fucked up. But, yeah." Jack looked back up, brows furrowed in worry. "I''m using her whole future-telling shtick to ignore something Tom said."

    Kieran angled his head and narrowed his eyes. Did Thomas sow the seeds to doom what he had with Jack? If so, Jack was still there, so it couldn''t have been enough to send him fleeing. "What did he say?"

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    "I don''t¡ª Is this a symbiotic relationship?" Jack asked, waving between them. "Am I a bird living in your mouth?"

    There was confusion then understanding. His trip to Cairo had been spoiled by a letter from Augustin, but it had been enough to get him to join a little expedition and gain more than an interesting experience. Traveling along the Nile and then further south had proved to be just the distraction he''d needed. It was somewhat fitting that Jack would choose such an example. He hoped they would last long enough for him to take Jack to see such a sight.

    "Just¡­ Just say it. Rip the fucking bandaid off," Jack said, breaking Kieran''s thoughts. "Please. I wanna know. I need to know."

    "There is a pull, yes," Kieran admitted. He resisted the annoyed sigh that wanted to erupt. Things would have been so much easier had it worked like it should have. But would it have been as rewarding? Or as punishing? "Normally. But your experience has tainted it. That is¡­ That is why there are rules in place for your kind."

    "Don''t drop the joint in the gutter?"

    "I suppose."

    Jack dropped his eyes to the floor and shifted his weight. "Sorry you ended up with a gutter joint."

    "Oh, no. My dear, sweet siren." Kieran closed the distance between them and pulled Jack into a brief hug. He stepped back and lightly lifted Jack''s chin. "Jack, my sweet. No, please don''t misunderstand. There is a pull, an attraction of sorts, but it does wear off, and rather quickly," he explained. "Thomas is like you in that regard, and he pursued me for friendship then promptly decided I was too dull for his tastes."

    "You''re not boring," Jack mumbled.

    "Wallowing in misery is boring compared to running down to the banks to shoot the first animal you see," Kieran said with a nostalgic smile. There were plenty of fools on that expedition, and Thomas had been one of the more impulsive ones. It was comforting that some things never changed, as much as a nuisance it could be. "The only reason he bothered with me was because he caught me feeding. I was once more deemed interesting. Although, he was offended that I''d never bothered to feed from him."

    "Wait, so he''s like me, like me," Jack said with a hint of excitement. "Vampire-crack-blood. Vampire with vam¡ª I don''t know how that works. Can he suck himself?"

    Kieran coughed and looked away, covering his mouth. He never wanted to be reminded of the scene he''d stumbled upon one night.

    "Oh, god." Jack drew back in disgust then leaned forward, squinting. "Wait. For real? He did it?"

    "He tried," Kieran said with a grimace. "It was bizarre to walk in on, to say the least, and I''d rather not remember it."

    "He asked you to help, didn''t he?"

    "Yes."

    "Did you?"

    He''d been one foot away with his hand raised, ready to do anything to keep his new companion from leaving. Jack was right. He really needed to work on setting up his personal boundaries. "Almost. He gave up when he realized my discomfort."

    "So already a step ahead of Augie."

    Kieran closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. Even in his drugged fueled haze, Thomas was somewhat considerate. "Yes."

    "So far, he''s my favorite kidnapper."

    Poor, self-destructive Thomas. He would be thrilled to hear he had been deemed a step up from an over-feeder.

 Dismissal

    A knock at the door interrupted them, and Kieran could just make out the vice-like grip Benoit had on Augustin''s upper arm. He would have enjoyed the sight more if it hadn''t been a promise for what was to come. He glanced at Jack, who wore his own look of reluctance.

    "If you would be so kind, Lindsey," he said, gesturing to the door as he retreated to the relative comfort of the register counter. He thought twice of hiding behind it and potentially trapping himself again. It worked as a protective barrier against customers, not Augustin. He settled in front of the counter, crossing his arms as he watched the front door.

    Augustin flinched back as the door opened, and he was shoved inside. He quickly regained his footing. He grinned at Kieran and Jack without a trace of guilt or worry.

    "Thank you, my dear," Benoit said with a polite smile to the empty air as she crossed the threshold.

    The deadbolt seemed to echo with the soft click of Benoit''s heels. Kieran dropped his eyes as the pair maneuvered around the display cases. He prayed it would end quickly.

    Benoit looked between Kieran and Jack then let her gaze settle on the armchairs off to the side. She sat in one of them, and Augustin moved to follow. She glared up at him before snapping her fingers and pointing to the floor in front of Kieran.

    Kieran closed his eyes, refusing to look at Augustin. He would have preferred for Augustin to take the other chair. Anything to put more than an aisle''s width between them. To his left, he caught the sound of Jack shuffling closer.

    "Well? Get on with it," Benoit said with an irritated tapping of her nails against the fabric of the armchair.

    Augustin cleared his throat and spoke with a forced joviality. "Thank you ever-so-much for asking to see me, Kieran. Although, I believe a more personal invitation would have been preferable."

    Kieran barely caught the near-silent scoff from Jack. It wasn''t a lot, but it was enough to bolster him. "Yes, but perhaps a small gathering is for the best," he replied. A quick glance up, and he instantly regretted the action. Augustin''s charming smile was firmly in place, and he hated himself for wondering if those lips still felt the same.

    Something of his thoughts must have shown, for Augustin''s smile widened in confidence. He narrowed his eyes as his jaw tightened. "I, for one, am not at all pleased that it has come to this. I was rather enjoying my solitude. Not that it was by choice," he said, unable to hide his bitterness by the end.

    "Now, darlin'', don''t be like that." Augustin put his hands into his pants pockets, thumbs out and jacket pushed back to accentuate his chest. He gave a cocky smile as he tilted his head to the side. "All is forgiven. Mistakes were made. Let''s start with a fresh page. Yes! A new year, a new beginning."

    Jack made a disgusted grunt. "Hey! I already told you: Don''t put a fucking expiration date on my goddamned relationship!" he snapped.

    Augustin shook his head and laughed. "Oh, no, of course not. We''re well past that. My¡­eagerness and nostalgia for the past is something of a downfall that I will admit to," he said. He smiled at Jack and shrugged. "When you have as many years behind you as we do, then the present becomes harder and harder to adjust to."

    Jack frowned and looked at Kieran in uncertainty. He stared for a moment before he dropped his eyes back to the floor.

    "Speak for yourself," Kieran quickly said. He didn''t need Augustin''s silver tongue adding to Jack''s anxieties. "I may not be fond of the world''s current advancements, but they are useful, and I do my best to keep up."

    Augustin raised a doubtful brow.

    An annoyed huff rose from Benoit. "If this banter resembles anything of your previous relationship, then I''m beginning to wonder how either of you were truly affected by the departure of the other." She narrowed her eyes at Augustin and motioned her hand to Kieran. "You claimed he was exceedingly rude in your dismissal. I believed you because our shared sire had such a habit. My sister shared such a fate. She¡­" She trailed off as her eyes slowly shifted over to Kieran.

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    Kieran looked away. He closed his eyes against the silence, feeling the cogs turn in Benoit''s head, making connections. His own fate had been eerily similar to Benoit''s sister, but with the added trauma of many more years of being favored lost in an instant.

    Benoit growled in frustration and slapped her hand against the arm of the chair. "And you! Have you nothing to say for yourself? Still? Mon Dieu. The pair of you. The young human is the only one with half a wit to him, and he is the one that should be having problems functioning in polite society."

    Jack frowned and leaned back against the counter as he tugged at his sleeves. He bit at his lower lip before looking at Augustin. "So I''ve heard the whole ''Kieran broke poor ol'' Augie''s heart'' side, but there''s gotta be more to it. I mean, I have my guesses, but what, exactly, happened? What did you do?"

    Right to the heart of the matter. No wonder Benoit liked Jack. "Yes, Augustin. What did you do?" Kieran quietly asked, bracing himself.

    "Do?" Augustin repeated with an offended frown. He crossed his arms as he shifted his weight, looking away. "Nothing. I simply asked, and you obliged." He sighed and looked back at Kieran. He radiated sorrow and misery. "You were so indulgent. I missed it when you stopped."

    It was so much worse than he''d been expecting. He would have gladly preferred a lie to argue against. The fraying thread of Kieran''s composure snapped. "You mean when I stopped obligin''! When I said it was too much! The w¡ª No. I don''t¡ª" He broke off, taking a shaky breath. He stared at the floor, but it did nothing to alleviate the feel of everyone''s eyes on him.

    For an instant, he was back in Lorenzo''s makeshift court, surrounded by gaiety and laughter as Lorenzo unceremoniously dismissed him with a delicate gold chain. He had been nothing more than a favored toy, discarded the moment something more interesting came along and left with a reminder of to whom he still belonged. The worst of it was the public setting, surrounded by the knowing stares that he''d been fool enough to believe every lie he''d been fed. He''d believed every soft whisper of love and adoration, and he still wanted to believe every pretty word spoken just for him.

    "Hey. It''s okay. You''re allowed to say no." Jack looked up at Kieran in concern, angling his head in an attempt to meet Kieran''s eyes. "You know that, right? You''re allowed to fucking change your mind halfway through¡­stuff. I, uh, don''t play the game, but I know the rules. I''m not that fucked in the head to forget that. Yet." His eyes darted to Benoit. "Not that it''s getting worse. I''m better. We''re better. Good. Yeah." He looked back at Kieran and touched his shoulder. "PSA: No''s a sentence."

    Oh, to have been raised in a time when such notions were becoming the norm.

    Kieran nodded. He would have to explain later that it was only part of the larger issue. He reached up and squeezed Jack''s hand before facing Augustin. "I only wished for a moment alone. And then I was left alone," he said as calmly as he could. "No note. No letter. There was nothing. I came out of the library after an hour, ready to apologize and grovel. But you were nowhere to be found."

    "Well, you did ask me to leave," Augustin said with a dismissive roll of his eyes.

    "I waited. Days. Weeks. Nothing," Kieran hissed. He took a step forward, and Augustin leaned back. "Until I heard from Billings that I had thrown you out of my bed, out of my home, out of my life. I thought it was a misunderstanding, so I reached out to your sire. Do you know what her reply was?"

    Augustin quickly glanced at Benoit. Her eyes were downcast, avoiding the gaze of others. "I¡­ I can make an educated guess," he quietly replied.

    "A used up toy like myself should be grateful that having my pretty face sitting atop a pike would be a waste," Kieran said, his voice breaking as he blinked back the sting of tears. "But if I were to set foot anywhere near you, there would be a call for my head. How could I possibly explain my side against whatever stories you''d spun? So I''ve let her live under the presumption I broke your heart. It was better than letting other rumors spiral out of control." He let out a broken laugh, stepping back and bumping into the counter. He looked away and ran a hand over his mouth. "And then, years later, I hear that you are looking for me?" he asked, incredulous.

    "We could have¡ª"

    "I have been ostracized from the community!" Kieran shouted, and Augustin flinched away, shrinking in on himself. "I''ve been forced to feed in the slums, barely tolerated wherever I go. I have no home to retreat to."

    "What about your¡ª"

    "My home is little more than a decrepit museum to my family of which I''ve little care to visit. My reputation is in tatters. Even when I crossed Lorenzo after my dismissal, I was seen as an amusing nuisance. They all thought I was an idiotic lovesick fool, but I was still respected. Now? Now I am accused of being just like him. So I may as well use what I learned. If I''m to hunt in the slums, then I shall declare my hunting grounds in the appropriate fashion. I will make an example of what happens to those who cross me. With such warnings, I''m at least left alone." He smiled bitterly and swallowed. "Since that''s what I wanted."

 A Fancy Word

    It was Benoit who broke the silence. "I must admit my curiosity as to what could possibly get you, of all people, to¡­take a breather." She had a curious tilt to her head as she examined Kieran as if she could find an answer.

    "It is a private matter that I would rather not discuss," Kieran quietly replied. He hoped she would leave it, but the tightness in his chest knew better.

    Benoit''s expectant stare shifted over to Augustin. She clicked her tongue when he made a show of staring at the case of jewelry that stood beside him. "Augustin?"

    Unexpectedly, Augustin shot Kieran an apologetic wince. "I have some¡­preferences."

    "That''s a fancy word for kinks," Jack muttered with a scoff. Both Augustin''s and Benoit''s eyes landed on him, and he pressed his lips together as he clutched tightly at arms. A light blush crept over his face.

    "Yes¡­ Kinks that not everyone is¡­appreciative of." Augustin rubbed his hands together. He looked at Benoit then dropped his head in shame. "And anyone who knows my upbringing is rather disinclined to participate."

    Jack stood up straight, his eyes wide as his arms dropped to his sides. He quickly looked between Augustin and Kieran, confirming Kieran''s fears of knowing enough about Augustin''s prior life. "Oh, no. What happened?"

    "I chose not to participate," Kieran replied. There was nowhere to hide. Nothing to use as a distraction. Everything was going to be laid bare for the world to see. It was bad enough that Benoit would know just how pathetic and needy he was for affection, but Jack? His cheeks were uncomfortably warm. He shouldn''t have fed so recently.

    "Halfway through," Augustin said in complaint. He looked away with an uncomfortable cough. "Yes¡­ I may have overreacted. I''ve gotten better."

    "And I remain uninterested," Kieran said with a cold flatness. No extra details were given. He may yet escape relatively unscathed.

    "At least tell me you''re on the submissive end," Jack said to Augustin, his voice caught between begging and an awkward laugh.

    Augustin licked his lips and kept his eyes down. "Captured Confederate soldier forced to divulge battle strategy," he whispered. "It¡­goes downhill from there. Depending on whom I''m playing with."

    Jack covered his mouth and leaned back. "Oh, no¡­"

    "As the kids say: I have a lot of issues to work through." Augustin shrugged. "And I''m probably not doing it in the healthiest manner."

    "Ya'' think?!"

    Augustin raised his head with an annoyed scoff. "It was just a whip! You weren''t there."

    Kieran raised his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes as he breathed in deeply. "A cat o''nine tails," he said softly. He gave Augustin an even stare. "One that had been previously used. On humans. Multiple."

    He narrowed his eyes in disgust. "Augustin! Why would you¡ª It was stained with blood! Did you honestly think I wouldn''t notice? That no matter how old, I couldn''t smell it?!"

    "I suppo¡ª"

    Jack made a strangled noise as he interrupted. "Don''t. Dude. Just don''t. Trust me, this ain''t a grave worth digging."

    "You don''t happen to¡­"

    "It was the first thing I burned. I honestly regret leaving the house when it went up with the rest of the memories. It would have been more humane to what I''ve endured. I suppose that''s why I came here." He shot a look at Benoit, relieved to not meet her eyes. "Some part of me has an active death wish."

    "You¡­ You burned down our home?"

    "My home," Kieran spat out. His furniture, his paintings, his memories. Compared to Jack, who had taken over a room and had little notes taped to the inside of cabinets in mere days, there had barely been any true impression of Augustin having lived with him for years. It was with that icy realization that any lingering feelings vanished. He recalled the waitress at Moonshine doing her best to reassure Jack. Leeches, indeed.

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    "I''ve no interest in being in such a relationship once more. I''ve moved on," he said, losing all his rage and venom. "I suggest you do the same." He pushed off the counter and sent a final half-hearted glare to Augustin and stalked off to the backroom and his newest home.

    Benoit stood and followed, the sound of her heels quickly closing in. "Fleeing so soon?"

    "Yes." Kieran paused to look over his shoulder. He looked from Benoit to Jack, taking in the lost stare he received in return. He turned his attention back to Benoit and spoke quietly. "If you would excuse us for the night, I would be grateful."

    "Given the circumstances, you''ve earned that option," she replied. She sighed heavily and placed a knuckle to her lips. "Very well. But before you leave, I apologize for the way I''ve treated you. My behavior has been appalling. The things I''ve said¡­ I should have suspected¡­" She shook her head and looked up at Kieran, her brows tilted in sadness. "I should have spoken with you directly to begin with. Or, at the very least, listened rather than turn you away. And¡­" She paused and glanced back at Augustin, a deep frown forming. "Well, discretion will be practiced and appreciated by all parties?"

    "Yes. Thank you."

    "You are fully welcomed back into polite society," she said, folding her hands in front of herself as she smiled at Kieran. There was a sharp and knowing glint to her eye. "No more crumbs."

    "Pity. I was enjoying the lack of invitations." He''d been trying for sarcasm, but missed it with his full honesty on display.  He shrugged in response to Benoit''s pitying stare. "But if you must send someone my way again, do choose one who can keep a conversation to a minimum. I receive enough useless knowledge of one''s extended family from my customers. I shouldn''t be subjected to it in my leisure time."

    "Now you''re being an ass on purpose. I must say that I missed it," Benoit said with a sad smile. She lightly touched Kieran''s upper arm and leaned in as she whispered. "Go. Heal. I''ll take care of this one."

    Kieran turned the corner, finally hidden from view. He looked up the stairway and sighed. He should wait for Jack before hiding away. He dropped onto the steps and rested his head in his hands as he listened.

    "Uh¡­ I''m gonna¡­ Yeah, so there''s the door, and that sounds really bad." Jack''s voice flittered between his awkward stumbling and rushed words. "Um, goodnight? Do I need to walk you out?"

    "We shall be fine, dear flame," Benoit said kindly. "Augustin."

    "Please don''t kill him?"

    The worry in Jack''s voice brought a smile to Kieran''s face. If Lorenzo hadn''t killed Kieran over the stunts he''d pulled after his dismissal, then there was no need to fret over Augustin being killed for being a selfish and degenerate liar.

    "Far from it," Benoit said with a laugh.

    Augustin''s uncertain chuckle followed. "I can lea¡ª"

    "You will be well under my watchful eye, child," Benoit snapped.

    "Yes, Mother."

    The chime on the front door rang out as Jack entered the backroom, and he startled when he saw Kieran. "Oh. You''re still here. That''s good. Right? How are you¡­ Stupid question. You gonna be okay?"

    "I¡­" Kieran shook his head and looked away.

    "Right. Yeah. So you lock yourself up. I''m gonna get drunk. Nothing to do with you, really. Just this." Jack turned and waved his hand at the doorway. "Everything. I need a night to drink and watch something stupid. Lindsey said she''d leave us alone tonight unless I watch something interesting, then she''ll just sit by the window and be quiet." He looked around the room and rubbed his arm. He looked back at Kieran with an uncertain smile. "You can join us. Me. I mean me. If you want. After you do your moping thing. Not judging. Just offering alcoholism instead of pyromania."

    Kieran laughed sadly. He looked up at Jack as his chest slowly untightened. "I may take you up on that offer."

    "I''ll make you an Irish coffee."

    He closed his eyes and couldn''t stop the regretful sigh that escaped. What had Augustin ever offered beyond what would get him what he wanted? "I do believe anything you offer will be welcome."

    "Good plan. Take as long as you need. Your drink''ll be in the fridge."

    "Thank you, my sweet, sweet siren," Kieran said as he stood. He approached Jack and stoked his hair.

    Jack leaned into the touch. His eyes were downcast as he chewed on his lip. He looked up and placed his hand over Kieran''s. "Tonight sucked, but I''m proud of you."

    "The worst of it is over," Kieran said, nodding. The worst that could happen had happened, and Jack was still there beside him. "I''m not looking forward to confronting Thomas."

    "Well, one down, one to go. Unless there''s more weirdo exes out there I don''t know about." He looked to the side in thought, his eyes unfocused. He blinked with a start and shuddered. "I don''t think I have any. Er, any left. Just that one. Thanks. Sorry. I mean thanks. I''m, yeah." He stared at Kieran''s chest and waved to the stairwell. "Hiding. Drinking. Let''s go."

    Kieran leaned down and lightly kissed Jack. "Thank you, sweet thing."

    "Sure thing, Kiki."

    Kieran shook his head, smiling as he turned to head up the stairs.

 Misery Farm

    T

    True to his word, Kieran had immediately retreated to his bedroom. There was no sound of furniture moving around, so Jack hoped it was a sign that Kieran trusted him enough to not intrude.

    Or to leave.

    He went about making the promised Irish coffee then poured himself more than enough vodka before looking through the fridge. He was fairly certain he''d bought some cranberry juice. He pulled out the bottle and looked again, just in case.

    "Whatever," he mumbled to himself as he filled the rest of the glass with the cranberry-strawberry juice. It was just there to cut the vodka anyway.

    Settling on the couch, Jack pulled out his phone and turned on the TV. He found an old samurai film and figured it would be a safe choice if and when he tuned in. He set the volume just loud enough to drown out his voice and hoped it wouldn''t be a bother to Kieran.

    He tapped on Tara''s name and held his breath.

    "Hey," Tara answered, hesitant and with more than enough suspicion dripping from her voice.

    Jack went for as much apologetic uncertainty as he could. "Hey¡­ So I''m planning on being hungover tomorrow. So, uh, sorry if I log in late?"

    Tara snorted. "That''s what you get for getting your loser ass kidnapped."

    That was not his fault. Being the drugs in a drug raid didn''t mean he went looking for trouble. Besides the inconvenience, the whole scenario had been fairly pleasant compared to dealing with Augie.

    He picked at the edge of his blanket that lay over the back of the couch. "No, that was fine." He ignored her incredulous echo. "This is something else."

    Tara sighed, and Jack could hear her dropping heavily onto a couch or chair. "Don''t tell me you broke up again."

    "No, we''re good," he insisted. He shot a look to the hallway. Dark and silent. He pulled his eyes away to settle on his drink sitting on the coffee table. "Augie''s finally been dealt with. It''s kinda Misery Farm over here. I got the wrong cranberry juice, so even my drink''s miserable."

    "Good. Tell Candy, so she can gloat and get her off my back."

    "Yeah, no, thanks."

    "She''s all ''I keep pulling these cards for you, but it doesn''t make sense! Waah!'' And I''m all ''Girl, it makes perfect sense. I just ain''t telling you why. Just know you were right. I didn''t pay attention, and things are good now. That''s what those damn Tower and Ace of Cups cards were for.'' Like, seriously," Tara said, ending her mini tirade with an offended huff. "Change and go with the flow. I went with the flow and it''s fucking awesome. Like, I was preparing myself for some really messed up shit and needing to take up meditation again, but things are great."

    Jack tried to piece together what Tara was talking about. Going with the flow with someone trying to sexually assault you? He prayed to whoever was listening that she was talking about something else. But it had sounded like Shane was the one that got in over his head. He didn''t want to fish for a solid answer. Tara was behaving like her normal self and not like any of the people he''d met in a couple group therapy sessions.

    On the possibly positive side, Candace''s witchy insight was proving itself as a force to be reckoned with. He''d gotten his own changes for better or worse reading, and he was doing alright for himself. "Yeah, same¡­ I mean, not with the flow stuff, but, uh, I''ve adjusted. I think I''m getting better at¡­stuff?"

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    "Hell, yeah. You''re way less of a space cadet. It''s almost like before¡­" She tailed off, and the sound of her moving a glass back and forth along a hard surface drifted over the phone. "Well, before. I''m seriously happy this is all working out for you."

    "Yeah, me, too."

    They fell into a brief silence before Tara spoke up with an extra bit of perkiness.

    "Hey, you wanna dog sit my dog?"

    "No, ''cuz I''ll accidentally kill it." Cat-sitting for Sam and Candace once in a blue moon was fine, but a dog? Those required more than cleaning a litterbox and making sure there was food and water. "Why the fuck did you even get a dog?"

    "It wouldn''t even be for long. Just an hour or two," she argued. "For walkies on the beach or something. I just can''t take her walking when she wants to go."

    A midmorning walk during one of Tara''s classes would be doable, and it would serve to get him out of the house more often. He could vaguely recall a therapist suggesting regular walks, and having a dog as an excuse would make him feel less awkward walking alone. "What kinda dog, and what''s her name?"

    "Huh? Oh, uh¡­ Fluffy. Her name''s Fluffy. ''Cuz she''s a big fluffy fluffster. Some sorta husky-mutt thing. Very well-trained. Fluffy''s a good girl." Tara paused then picked right back up. "But don''t call her a ''good girl.'' She doesn''t like it."

    Jack didn''t believe it for a second. He glared at the TV and the black and white samurai fighting across the screen. Everyone always said their dog was trained, then acted surprised when it tore up their house or the neighbor. Even Candace''s perfect fallen angel of a cat was a hellion.

    "Yeah, I know it''s a dumb name," Tara said, mistaking the meaning of Jack''s silence. "Whatever. It works."

    He swallowed back his thoughts on both the name and Tara''s insistence that the dog was well-behaved. "As long as you like it?"

    "Better than Augie," she said with a snide tone.

    "Better than Shane," Jack shot back with the same tone.

    "Oh, my god. So much better than Shane! On so many levels." She laughed with a meanness Jack had heard only a few times before. "When you''re in a walkies mood, you should take Fluffy to the woods."

    The woods outside town. He couldn''t leave town. He wouldn''t have to worry about the dog hurting someone, he''d have to worry about Tara being hurt by someone. His panic ratcheted up in sync with the spurting blood of one of the samurai.

    Blood didn''t spurt out like that.

    He swallowed and choked on his spit for a moment. "Sorry. I''m fine. Uh, walkies. No, I''m good. Maybe a park. The beach is good. Just not¡­ I can''t¡­ The beach is fine."

    "Okay¡­"

    He took a swig of his drink and winced at the burn he should have been expecting. "I mean with the isolation and stuff. I really shouldn''t be wandering around alone, given my track record."

    "Fluffy would take care of anyone that''d try anything," promised Tara. "Trust me."

    "And then get put down for biting someone. Yeah, no. Ain''t happening. I don''t want that on my conscience." He had enough things to worry about without worrying over the safety of someone else''s pet. Things like his own safety and the safety of idiot vampires.

    Even though he knew he shouldn''t worry or care, Augie''s upcoming fate was still a mystery. Thomas was somewhere out there, lurking around and playing at being some sort of messed up matchmaker. And then there was the fact that Kieran''s hunting grounds were apparently Jack''s haunting grounds.

    "Do I live in a shitty neighborhood?" he asked.

    "What?"

    "Do I? I mean, it''s cheap. And within walking distance to the bars. The, uh, questionable bars." And some people hanging out on corners that had a particular vibe to them. "I live in the red light district, don''t I?"

    "Eh, you''re on the edge. Pink light district. That bar going under helped things a lot."

    Jack frowned as he tried to think of which bar she was talking about, and then he remembered. His bar. His bar that shut down because Kieran killed the bar owner. He shut his eyes tightly against the thought. Kieran''s night was already shitty enough without Jack adding his annoyance to it.

    "Just think of this way," Tara added, "the more walkable an area, the more¡­diverse the crowd."

    "Thanks." He hadn''t meant to sound so bitter.

    "Good and bad. You''re part of the good."

 Not Alone

    It wasn''t too long after Jack got off the phone with Tara that he heard the soft sound of footsteps coming from the hallway. He looked up and caught the neutral stare Kieran was giving the floor as he entered the living room. "That was quick," he said with a forced smile.

    Kieran looked up in confusion.

    "Sorry. I mean, I was expecting to be totally shitfaced and annoying by the time you came out. I''m not even buzzed yet." Jack picked up his drink and downed the rest of it.

    "Rectifying the problem, I see," Kieran said as he approached the couch. He looked from Jack to the television with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head. "I had intended that to be more humorous."

    Jack stared at his empty glass. "No, I get it. It''s a reflex. Something to do. Nervous tick? I have a lot of them. I''d do the same with water. It''s got nothing to do with my drinking problem," he said as his voice grew softer. He looked up and gave Kieran a quick once over. He may as well keep adding on to the attempt at jokes. "No singed hair?"

    Kieran shook his head as he moved into the kitchen. Sounds of the fridge opening and closing followed by a cabinet opening and bottles scraping across wood filled the air. He came to the couch and set a large bottle of whiskey on the coffee table before sitting. He eyed the glass of Irish coffee he held for a moment then brought it to his lips.

    Jack watched as Kieran knocked back half the Irish coffee before opening the whiskey and adding it to the glass. "Hey, we have something in common." He smiled awkwardly and shrugged when Kieran looked over. "I mean with the whole just add it to the mix thing," he said as he pointed at Kieran''s glass.

    "At the moment," Kieran agreed. He set the bottle back on the table and lifted his glass. "I know better than to drink too much when I feel like this, but¡­" He sighed softly and shrugged. "We shall see."

    "You don''t gotta be out here if you wanna be alone," Jack said quietly as he rolled his empty glass between his hands. "I get it. You can do your thing, but don''t force yourself to do this just to make me feel better or something."

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    Kieran''s eyes stayed on the bottle of whiskey as he spoke. "You said I don''t have to hold back my affection. Would you be open to receiving it tonight?"

    There were too many scenarios where everything would go downhill. Jack had heard enough horror stories, and, as much as he wanted to, he had yet to find out what Kieran was like when drunk. "I''m gonna need an example, ''cuz my imagination is going wild over here."

    "Holding, kissing, touching," Kieran listed. He looked at Jack from the corner of his eye. "I''ve had time to myself, so now I would like to reassure myself that I''m not¡­alone."

    "Not abandoned."

    "Yes."

    "Okay, yeah. Uh, gonna go get my refill," Jack said as he shook his glass. "Not the biggest whiskey drinker. Kisses, hell yeah. Straight? Not in a sipping mood. And whiskey''s really not gonna go with my shitty juice or any of the wine coolers or cider I got."

    Kieran nodded and flicked his hand toward the kitchen. "Help yourself to whatever you find if you want something better."

    Jack licked his lips as he pulled his eyes away from Kieran and to the cabinets above the fridge. "You sure? ''Cuz I''ve been eyeing that bottle of vodka on the top shelf. The one in the back."

    Kieran sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "It was part of your Christmas present."

    Jack blanked for a moment. The one person out there that should be completely against him drinking had gotten him a bottle of expensive, small batch vodka. And he had yet to even begin looking for a gift for Kieran.

    "It''s¡­not a reflection on you," Kieran said, his tone slow and careful and he shifted his gaze to Jack. His frown was full of uncertainty.

    Jack quickly shook his head and he stood. "No, it''s great. Awesome. Fine. Shit. Um¡­" He looked from the glass he held to the cabinet. "No, I just don''t wanna ruin it with any of my crappy shit. I knew I shoulda stocked up on mixers. I''m gonna ruin it with hot cocoa instead. You want some?"

    "It''s all yours my sweet. But thank you for offering." Kieran smiled softly and picked up his drink from the coffee table.

    Partway to the kitchen, Jack looked over his shoulder at Kieran. Why did he get the feeling Kieran was rarely on the receiving end of gifts and thoughtfulness?

    But, given his own limited experience with Augie, he could see how it was something Kieran was unused to. And given that people had a tendency to "marry their parents," it didn''t spell out a happy childhood for Kieran. Nor much of a happy life since then.

 High Note

    Jack grabbed a stepstool and moved the bottles of whiskey and wine out of the way, finding his prize hiding in the back. He eagerly took out the bottle of vodka and hopped down. He pulled down a mug and grabbed the box of cocoa sitting beside the Lucky Charms. He contemplated fishing out a few of the marshmallows, but decided against it.

    He turned on the electric kettle and poured a little vodka into his mug. He took a small sip and regretted not having anything that would go with the hint of vanilla. His cheap packet of cocoa was the best option. He had all of tomorrow to get some better juice and mixers. Maybe a bottle of schnapps.

    Grabbing up his bottle of cheap vodka and the cocktail juice, he set about moving everything he''d need for that night''s binge drinking to the coffee table. He returned to the kitchen just in time to avoid his water getting too hot, and mixed up his cocoa. There were clumps of unmixed powder floating on top, but he couldn''t bring himself to care as he filled the rest of the mug with good vodka.

    Back on the couch, he happily sat beside Kieran, holding his drink close and smiling to himself as Kieran''s hand ran from one shoulder to the other. He worked on his drink as Kieran held him close. It was a wonderful end to a horrible evening. All they needed was a cozy fireplace.

    All too soon, he''d finished his drink. Thoughts of Kieran''s offer to look at properties with a proper fireplace buzzed through his head as the alcohol began to hit him. He eyed his cheap vodka sitting on the coffee table. A kiss was placed on the shell of his ear, and he turned to quickly meet Kieran''s lips. Before he could pull away, Kieran gently cupped his face with both hands.

    Kieran began with sweet, slow kisses. He angled his head as he lightly nipped at Jack''s lower lip and was rewarded with Jack initiating a deeper kiss. He licked into Jack''s mouth and smiled at the soft gasp.

    Jack''s grip on his mug loosened, and it fell to the rug with a loud thump. He pulled away with a sharp gasp. "Shit! Your rug. I''m sorry!" He tried to lean down to retrieve the mug, but Kieran held him tight.

    "Leave it," Kieran whispered hoarsely into Jack''s ear. "It can wait."

    Jack swallowed and slowly turned his face to meet Kieran''s eyes. The stare boring into him was no more heated than before, but his anxiety still flared up at their position. With one leg over Kieran''s lap, he could see things going very bad, very quick. Instead of being kissed, he was pulled into a tight hug. He shifted into a more comfortable position, moving to sit fully on Kieran''s thighs, his knees pressing into Kieran''s hips. He did his best to return the hug.

    He watched the clock on the microwave as he stayed in Kieran''s embrace, an arm around his waist and a hand in his hair. It was comforting, but five solid minutes of silently being a human teddy bear was starting to get to him. "How long are we waiting?" he asked as casually as he could.

    Kieran kissed the angle of Jack''s jaw and loosened his hold.

    "No, I mean, this is nice and all, but the kitchen''s kinda boring to stare at." He also wanted to pick up the mug.

    Kieran lifted his arms, hands spread. "Sit wherever you''d like, sweet thing."

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    Jack looked over the length of the couch, doing his best to imagine different positions that wouldn''t cause a cramp or make any limbs fall asleep while giving Kieran what he needed. "Okay, uh, scoot over a little," he said, shooing Kieran away from the couch arm. He moved his pillows over and settled into the corner. He slouched down with his legs over Kieran''s lap, butt pressed firmly against Kieran''s thigh. He looked up as he sucked in his lower lip in uncertainty.

    "This is fine, my sweet Jack," Kieran said quietly as he stroked Jack''s legs.

    "Okay, um¡­" Jack leaned over and mixed himself another drink. He grabbing the mug from the floor, relieved that he''d polished it off enough for there to be no spill. Kieran motioned to his own glass, and Jack handed it to him. He sat back and winced as Kieran downed half the glass without so much as a light cough. "How can you just knock that back?" he asked as Kieran leaned over his legs and refilled the glass with more whiskey.

    "Practice. Many, many years of practice. And a willingness to drink Begg under the table," Kieran said with narrowed eyes. He took a swig as he seethed, his fingers tapping along Jack''s knee.

    "I think there''s a stereotype here¡­"

    "Mostly boredom and rivalry," Kieran admitted with a shrug then polished off the rest of his drink. "Followed by the occasional urge to keep up the ability."

    Was this a historic can of worms Jack wanted to open? He decided that, yes, he wanted to know more. "A rival? For¡­? Sheep shearing?"

    Kieran nodded as he stared at his empty glass. "My scar. Both his sister and, eventually, his wife were enamored with me. I considered courting his sister, but my brother got to her first," he said with a mean grin. "Bastard had to smile through the whole wedding. After, however? There were plenty of black eyes to go ''round. My father was less than thrilled."

    Jack let his eyes drift away from Kieran. He couldn''t begin to imagine Kieran with a black eye. Himself? "I got a black eye by opening a cabinet into my face," he said with a frown. He smiled as Kieran snorted in amusement. He looked over, and his smile turned embarrassed. "It''s happened more than once."

    Kieran looked at Jack in disbelief. At Jack''s nod, he shook his head and reached over to lightly stroke Jack''s cheek. "Do you believe it''s a¡­newer development?"

    Jack quickly shook his head. "No, I know it''s all me." He thought back to his journal and notes and transcribing them from phone to paper. "The reaction''s changed," he quietly admitted and nodded his head to the kitchen, reminded of the plate he''d dropped. "Apparently, I didn''t used to get like that. I mean, the thoughts were the same, but I could keep it together better and not freak out like that."

    He swallowed down a mouthful of his drink. Finally, his buzz was properly taking hold. Now he just needed to get them onto a lighter topic. He snatched up the remote from the coffee table. "Are we interested in Christmas movies or something else?"

    "Anything from twenty or more years ago," Kieran said. He frowned as he dropped his eyes to Jack''s knees. "Although, every decade has its cinematic failures."

    Jack nodded along as he poked through the streaming options. "Ballet?" That would match Kieran''s sophisticated vibe. "Maybe The Nutcracker? I''ve never seen it. I don''t think¡­"

    "I suppose everyone should see it at least once," Kieran replied. "It''s lovely, but¡­ I find myself wishing there was a song or two."

    "Hmm¡­ Cats?"

    "I am not nearly drunk enough for that. Ask again when I''ve finished the bottle."

    Jack glanced at the bottle in question, already a third done. "Okay, so you work on that, and we''ll start with a cult classic or two," he said as he set a reminder on his phone. Maybe the night would end on a high note. Or an off-key one.

 A Thing

    Matches might have been the preferable option to the melancholy Kieran exuded with every fiber of his being.

    Jack sipped at his drink as he looked over Kieran''s half-sprawled form. His own legs were still propped over Kieran''s lap, but Kieran had slowly slouched down over the course of his bottle, his feet ending up on the coffee table and his arms haphazardly strewn across the back of the couch.

    The whole scene was like an artsy photoshoot, and Jack guiltily helped himself to a few snapshots on his phone. He really shouldn''t be enjoying seeing Kieran devolve into a miserable pile of gorgeous drunkenness.

    "If it will add to your amusement, I can easily strip down," Kieran said, causing Jack to flinch.

    "No, I''m good," Jack stuttered out. He hadn''t been as sneaky as he''d thought. He hunched his shoulders as Kieran looked at him. "Really. This whole, uh, rumpliness is a look."

    Kieran blinked blearily and shook his head, returning his stare to the ceiling. He waved a hand down his body, clipping Jack''s knees. "Help yourself if you change your mind. It''s all I''m good for."

    This was not what Jack had been expecting, and he had no idea on how to turn things around. He set his drink aside, resigning to the fact that his light drunken haze was not going to get the chance to get any further, and he had no hope of catching up to Kieran''s state. "I like the whole package. Especially the thoughtfulness."

    "I''m used to hearing it referred to as desperation."

    Jack rolled his eyes at Kieran''s despondence. "Yeah? Well, those people suck. Being nice is nice. Even if I was kinda suspicious of it. But that''s ''cuz I''m not used to it. I mean, I kinda wish you had some legit concerns to bring up about me. Balance it out, y''know?"

    He paused and stared at his lap. Kieran''s hand laid loosely on his knee, and he almost made a grab for it. Was now a good time to mention that he wanted to stay? "Unless Candy''s creepy prophecy is all done, and I''m supposed to go back to my apartment. I''ve never really been a real roommate, so I don''t know how this works."

    Kieran''s head lolled to the side, and he gave Jack a long stare before speaking. "The hairball I found in the shower drain."

    "Um, what now?"

    "You, my sweet love, shed."

    Jack shifted uncomfortably under Kieran''s stare. It was far from any possible gripe he might have been expecting, but it was easy enough to fix. "I''ll, uh, get one of those hair catchers. Save on the Drain-o. At least my hair''s short now? It coulda been worse. A lot worse. I clean up after I shave."

    "I suppose that''s something," Kieran said, rolling his head back to face the ceiling again. "I do miss having live-in help. Aside from the worry of discovery."

    "You can hire a cleaning service?" It seemed like something a sophisticated vampire would have by default. But if Kieran hired someone to clean up the place, then Jack wouldn''t have anything to help out with.

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    Nor would there be any convenient ways for weirdo vampires to kidnap him. Again.

    "There''s too much risk," Kieran said. He ran a hand through his hair, throwing it further into a disheveled mess. "There was nosiness before, but now? It''s much too easy for someone to take an incriminating photo, make copies of questionable evidence¡­ A human cleaner is not worth having to clean up after in case of discovery. And I don''t find myself in such need to justify the cost of a non-human."

    "What about a human that knows about¡­stuff?" Jack could see that being a viable career option. Not for himself, of course. He invited disaster into his life enough already, and he needed to work on his habit of sending out invitations en masse. He leaned over and grabbed his drink again, topping it off. He''d been successful in steering the conversation, he deserved a treat.

    Kieran dragged his hand from his hair and over his face. "An entirely different risk," he muttered into his palm.

    "What, like a vampire fan club or something?"

    "The opposite, I''m afraid."

    "Van Helsing wannabes?" And where were they when Jack needed them? They couldn''t be very good, given his experience with the apparent infestation going on.

    "Some are rather successful in their craft. Renaud believes I''m sentimental over my name. It started out as pride. We had land, money, so of course my name stood for something. Now?" Kieran choked out a teary laugh. "Well, I''d wager it''s closer to a death wish now."

    Jack didn''t want to linger on the thought. "Renaud?"

    "Colette," Kieran dismissively clarified with a wave of his hand. "She has favorites she cycles through."

    "Are you gonna start a favorites list?" Jack''s stomach twisted at the uncomfortable thought that the answer would be "no."

    Kieran looked away. "I''m not certain."

    "I can see how it''d be kinda fun. But also annoying and confusing. Annoying because Kyle cheated on me, and I fucking used his name with Augie. But I guess using his name and hearing it more often helped me remember him." It was a strange feeling that someone Jack was fine with forgetting was a solid line to his past. It made him bitter in all the right ways. "And his cheating ass. And the girl he fucked at prom. Caught them kissing, then got to hear all about the fucking the next day."

    Kieran slowly shook his head. "I don''t know what to do or say to reassure you. I''ve no gag reflex, but¡ª"

    Jack coughed on his drink and looked up at Kieran after he recovered. "I''m sorry, what?"

    "No gag reflex. Rather useful in some cases."

    "Not this case."

    Kieran sighed heavily and patted Jack''s thigh. "Unfortunately, no. No easy distractions."

    "I dunno, just saying it has me completely distracted right now."

    "And what are you imagining?" Kiran looked over, giving Jack a raised brow and a smirk.

    As embarrassed as Jack felt, he was grateful for the lighter topic. "First thing? Couple of farmboys in a barn. Some hay and sunshine popping through the roof. Maybe a cow mooing and killing the mood?"

    "Disgusting," Kieran said with a scoff. He looked away and grimaced. "It was a thicket far enough off the road to not be heard, and it was sometime after midnight."

    "Still two farmboys?" Jack grinned as Kieran slumped further into the couch.

    "Two very young men. One of which was the heir to a sizable amount of land, and one who worked¡­" Kieran trailed off and closed his eyes, his head dropping onto his shoulder as he glanced at Jack. "One who worked with the cows," he said in resignation.

    "Got a thing for people who work with cows?"

    "I had a ''thing'' for almost any person who crossed my path and took a vague interest in me." He grimaced after a moment. "You''re a breath of fresh air compared to what I''ve grown accustomed to."

 Lesson

    Jack nibbled at his cuticles before reaching over to tug on Kieran''s arm, pulling him closer. After a brief moment of awkward adjustment, he managed to get Kieran between his legs and lying back against his chest.

    "If you keep indulging me, you''ll never be rid of me," Kieran said as he took Jack''s hand and kissed it.

    "Unless I walk out the door." Jack cringed and squeezed Kieran''s hand in an effort to reassure him. "Sorry."

    "I suppose it''s best to be reminded. With any luck, I''ll learn my lesson," Kieran said wryly. "It only took a few centuries."

    Jack could relate¡ªhe was prone to making the same mistakes over and over. He was also capable of making brand new ones. Before he could come up with anything remotely reassuring for either of them, Kieran continued.

    "I thought I''d finally learned my lesson before I met you. A nice little treat that happened to cross my path. But then I had to work for it, so I took it as a sign that it wasn''t meant to be." Kieran lazily traced his fingers over Jack''s leg. "And then you surprised me."

    "Uh, yeah. I kinda come with conflicting signage. Believe me, it''s just as bad being me and dealing with it." Jack was thankful there was no direct mention of how he''d hidden behind a counter before getting his shit together for five minutes. He was such an embarrassing mess.

    Kieran shrugged. "I find it endearing." He reached up and caressed Jack''s cheek. "Perhaps too endearing. I fell in love, and I had to rely on that stupid ghost to let me in more times than I''d like to admit."

    Jack leaned into the touch as he smiled. "You lock yourself out more when you''re in love?"

    "I was distracted." Kieran''s complaint lost some of its defensiveness with his drowsy slurring. "Planning how to keep you around and not chase you off took a considerable amount of thought."

    Jack wished he could be as eloquent when drunk. "You were kinda pushy, but it got me off my ass." He was grateful and resentful, and the feelings drew out a confused smile.

    "My eagerness," Kieran murmured. "I just want people to like me and not leave."

    "I like you," Jack replied. Then he remembered their breakup and clenched his eyes shut. "I, uh, kinda left, but that was because of other shit out of your control, so it doesn''t really count?"

    Kieran took Jack''s hand in his and ran his lips along the knuckles as he hummed in agreement. "You did start speaking to me again rather quickly."

    "A couple months is quick?" It had been agonizingly long for Jack.

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    "For me?"

    "Right."

    They fell into silence, and Jack lightly ran his fingers through Kieran''s hair as he watched the TV. Men and women in furred leotards danced across a stage, singing about what Jack always thought was supposed to be a Maine Coone.

    "How long are you planning to stay?" Kieran asked quietly, resigned.

    With a thick swallow, Jack rested his arms across Kieran''s chest in a light hug. "Until you kick me out? I li¡ª love you. I like it here. Even with the ghosts hanging around."

    "There''s only the one," Kieran replied as he patted Jack''s arm reassuringly.

    "And a half, apparently?" Jack said under his breath. He tapped Kieran''s chest. "Tommy?"

    Kieran groaned in annoyance. "Oh, Thomas. Ever the nuisance. In the morning, my sweet. I''ll deal with that utter annoyance in the morning," he promised.

    "I''ll take annoying over¡­" Jack broke off with a huff. Again, he reminded himself, he needed to reevaluate his life and how he had a sliding scale for vampires and kidnappers. It was bad enough that he apparently had a vampire habit, he really didn''t want to add regular kidnappings into the mix. "I''ll take it over the bullshit I''m used to."

    Kieran softly hummed as he listlessly nodded.

    "But, uh, he should be easy to deal with? I hope?" Jack looked down for reassurance, but Kieran''s eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and deep. He lightly rubbed Kieran''s chest and kissed his head.

    Kieran''s lips were parted just enough to show a peek of his teeth. From where Jack sat, he could see two slim bits of translucent white framing Kieran''s central incisors. He swallowed and quickly looked away.

    He could barely recall the first time Farragut''s pointy fangs had pressed into his wrist. There hadn''t been any numbness. Just desperate pin pricks. It had been nothing like when Kieran had thought to help himself. He scratched at his neck as he tried to remember the differences.

    Mixed in with the fuzziness, Kieran had been full of wonderful promises and affection. When Jack freaked out, he gave up and let go of his control, covering his ass in both the best and worst way.

    With Farragut, there had been an overwhelming sense of if he moved, then it would hurt more. It would be worse. Always a threat. Always afraid. Numbness was a reward he rarely earned.

    Jack looked down again and tried to angle his head to get a better look. The tips of Kieran''s fangs were almost in line with the rest of his teeth. Thin, fragile, and not at all threatening. And certainly not fully extended. With a lurch in his stomach, the image of much longer fangs filled his mind. Long, vicious, and capable of tearing skin if he flinched away.

    He risked a look at his right arm, pulling up the sleeve to reveal a pair of slim, dragging scars across his wrist. He was pretty sure it hurt like hell when it happened. He could remember a hand clamping down on his wrist as a reminder to stay put while Farragut chitchatted away with someone while at a club.

    If he''d had his wits about him, he would have been able to run away and get lost in the crowd.

    Jack dropped his arm with a heavy sigh. There was no point in dwelling on a past he could barely remember. It didn''t stop him from pulling out his phone and making a note.

    He looked down at Kieran before holding his phone out at arm''s length and taking a selfie. His finger hovered over the delete button. He breathed in deeply and reminded himself of Farragut''s headless corpse. He backed out and went about setting the picture as the background. Now he only needed something for his lock screen.

 Grease Pig

    A sudden jolt, and Jack was awake. He blinked in confusion as he took in his surroundings. He was still on Kieran''s couch. "What¡­?"

    "Sorry," Kieran mumbled as he moved to sit upright. He dropped his head between his knees as he took a few deep breaths. Looking up, he grimaced at the empty bottle directly in front of him.

    "You okay?" Jack asked, keeping his voice low. "You want some aspirin or something? Closed curtains?"

    Kieran shook his head. "No, I''ll take care of it in a moment. I''ll be in the bath for¡­ Well, long enough."

    "Uh¡­" Jack''s face scrunched up before he could make the necessary connections on what Kieran was implying. Even Augie had been pretty blas¨¦ about his tumble down the stairs and subsequent death. "Oh. Okay. Please don''t tell me that''s how you always take care of hangovers."

    "Only when they''re this bad." Kieran broke off with a long exhale. "I would have preferred to have died during the night, but I hadn''t planned accordingly."

    Jack, for one, was of the opinion that dying in the middle of the night would not have been preferable. He didn''t need any corpses on or around him. "If anything like this happens again, and you do ''plan accordingly,'' please don''t sleep on me."

    Kieran nodded as he stood, wincing. "On second thought, you go first. I''m going to be a while," he said as he gingerly sat back on the couch.

    It was a considerate offer, and Jack gladly took it. He eyed everything in the bathroom as he went through his morning routine. Was he going to need to avoid anything? Surely Kieran would clean up after himself.

    He returned to the living room and watched as Kieran shuffled off. He had no idea how long Kieran would be, nor what sort of reset method he was going to use, and he really didn''t want to know. He set about cleaning up the bottles and glasses. Anything to keep his mind off how many dead bodies, no matter how temporary, had been in the building.

    And, more frighteningly, how he was coming to accept the idea.

    Making breakfast seemed like a decent task to help occupy him, and it served the dual purpose of helping out. In the fridge, he found eggs and bacon. He poked around for another moment, unable to find any mystery containers of bacon grease. He glanced across the clean countertops, but there wasn''t even a small dish with an incriminating cat print that he''d come to expect at Sam''s. He may as well start one.

    He stared at the small, shallow dish he pulled down. A clear memory of his mother instructing him to empty the bacon grease into a silicone pig popped up. He dropped the dish onto the counter and quickly fetched his phone to make a note. He also made a note to hunt down the same pig from his memory.

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    Half an hour and one burnt batch of eggs later, Kieran emerged from the small hallway. He was dressed for the day in dark grey slacks and a white button down that put Jack''s sweatpants and sweatshirt to shame. He came up behind Jack and wrapped his arms around him. "Do you need any help?"

    Jack leaned back with a frown. "I don''t think so? The bacon''s on the crispy side ''cuz I zoned out," he admitted. He could recall making several notes on his phone before and during cooking, but the memories were already gone. He turned off the burner and examined his pile of scrambled eggs. "I got the eggs under control?"

    "Thank you for breakfast, my sweet." Kieran kissed Jack''s temple and continued to trail kisses downward, pulling away with a soft laugh when he was shrugged away.

    "Don''t thank me yet. You haven''t tasted it." Jack rubbed at his neck and swallowed. No numbness, just a normal kiss.

    "I''ll be grateful for anything you make."

    "Yeah, you''ll just bounce right back even if I accidently poison you." He cringed and looked over his shoulder at Kieran. All he got in return was a sad smile.

    "I didn''t mean to ruin your morning," Kieran said as he stepped away.

    Jack turned and grabbed Kieran''s wrist, pulling him back in. "Not ruined, just weird."

    "Here, let''s eat, and then I''ll¡­" Kieran sighed and looked away. "I''ll see what I can do about Thomas."

    Jack wondered if he looked as miserable when his friends made him do things for his own good. He probably looked worse.

    By some miracle, there had been no complaints about Jack''s cooking. There was, however, an almost dirty look that Kieran threw his way when Jack had kicked him out of the apartment before he could offer to clean up, losing any excuse of procrastination.

    As Jack gathered everything into his laptop bag, he was feeling pretty proud of himself. He cooked, cleaned up, got Kieran off his ass, and he had yet to break anything. He had a handful of new notes in his phone and a weird little bacon grease pig on order. His morning was great.

    As he entered the murder stairs, his stomach turned. Something was going to ruin it. Thomas was still out there with no idea that Kieran had finally worked out his Augie issues. For the most part.

    With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and wrote up a text to Tara. He hoped it didn''t come off as weird. He hadn''t initiated meeting up since¡­ He couldn''t remember a time he asked Tara to properly hang out. She probably had better things to do than entertain him.

    Even if he had the excuse of needing to be around people, it was just an excuse. What could she possibly do to help that a crowded caf¨¦ couldn''t?

    He blinked as he deleted the message. With a frustrated growl, he retyped it and sent it off.

    At the foot of the stairs, Jack was greeted with a hand written sign.

    Thomas, we need to talk.

    There was another on the backdoor. Apparently, this was Kieran''s plan for dealing with the problem. Then again, when there was no real way to contact Thomas, this was probably the only solution.

    His phone pinged with a reply.

    YES!! CU@ BB!

    The eager reply was comforting. Maybe he wasn''t as annoying as he thought. As he''d been told.

 Antiquing

    Standing just inside the door of Bricked and Baked was Tara, stuffing her face with a croissant. Jack slowed down before entering, eying her. With a sigh, he pushed his way in.

    "Get what you want and add it to my tab," Tara said by way of greeting.

    He looked at the counter then back to her. At her insistent nod, he went up and ordered. He even remembered to mention his pseudo-employee discount. He pulled out his wallet, only for the cashier to wave him off with a smile.

    "It''s covered!"

    "But¡ª"

    The cashier leaned forward, dropping his voice as he glanced Tara''s way. "I''m in a kickboxing class. I''m not risking getting singled out. Again."

    Jack reluctantly nodded, tucking his wallet away. He flinched when Tara appeared beside him, thrusting an envelope in his face. He took a moment to take in his name before accepting the envelope and looking inside. He pulled out a gift card to Rick''s Electronics and frowned at Tara. "Early Christmas gift?" he asked.

    "No." Tara shook her head as she reached past Jack to grab a small handful of napkins. "Your prize for winning the kidnapping lottery."

    His stomach dropped at the reminder. "It wasn''t that bad," he insisted. "Thomas is¡­ Well, he''s got some personal problems, and he''s¡ª"

    "Wait, you know the guy?!" Tara narrowed her eyes as she settled her hip against the counter. "Sam ain''t gonna like that. What else did you leave out?"

    Her tone was too knowing. "It''s not like I know how to find him. Kieran''s the one who knows him, and even he doesn''t really know. I didn''t lie. And it''s really not a problem, I swear. I just got caught up in his idea of a hazing ritual." He hoped she would buy the excuse. It was better than drawing attention to the fact that he had a bad vampire habit.

    "Hazing? For what?"

    "Antiquing." In more ways than one. His drink was called out, and he hurried past Tara to grab it. He didn''t like the intrigued look she was giving him.

    Tara rolled her eyes and pushed off the counter. "Fine. You''ll spill sooner or later," she said as she led the way outside.

    Stolen story; please report.

    Jack picked up his drink and followed her into the cold. Vampires were the one thing he couldn''t confide in Tara about. She was understanding, but she''d probably have him committed if he started going on about how great his blood tasted.

    They walked along the park''s winding path at a leisurely pace. Jack''s eyes lingered on a small bridge that sat over a frozen creek. A couple stood in the middle, taking selfies and laughing and kissing between takes. He knew what he wanted for his lock screen. Who could he get to take a nice picture of him and Kieran without teasing him too much?

    He was pathetic and fully in the deep end of fresh love. He could just imagine how bad he''d be if he didn''t have all his mental issues.

    "Did you change your spritz?" Tara asked once they passed the bridge.

    "Hm? Oh! Not wearing it today." He knew he forgot something. He was getting too comfortable and losing his not-so-healthy dose of paranoia. He surreptitiously looked in his bag and relaxed when he saw the bottle sitting beside his taser.

    "Oh. Huh."

    Jack looked up at the thoughtful tone. "Why?"

    "You smell weird." She looked away with a small frown.

    "Like what?" He''d showered that morning and even cleaned up his stray hairs. Somehow, he''d managed to not have a panic attack over the smell of cleaning products when he''d used the bathroom before leaving. Maybe so much bleach lingered in the air that it infused itself into Jack''s hair.

    "Like¡­ I dunno. Sweet." Tara looked at the ground with a shrug. "It''s not bad. Kinda nice. But it''s different from everyone else, and it makes me wanna curl up and cuddle with you."

    Jack''s breath caught as a chill ran up his spine. "Tara¡­"

    She seemed to remember herself and avoided eye contact as her shoulders tensed up. "I''m fine. It''s fine."

    She didn''t look any different to Jack. Didn''t seem to be acting any differently aside from her weird comment. "Lemme know when it''s not, okay?"

    "Sure."

    Somehow, his best friend had become a vampire behind his back. When did it happen? Why didn''t she say anything? Probably for the same reason Jack hadn''t spoken to anyone about his personal vampire habit. Who would believe him?

    It was exciting and terrifying. He finally had someone to talk to about the crazy turn his life had taken. Someone who knew him from before. He could come clean about everything and also be there for Tara if she needed support from someone else who was in the know.

    How far along was she? Was it immediate? Did it work like some sort of infection and slowly took over? He didn''t know that much about how vampires worked outside being their prey.

    He stared at the ground as he spoke quietly. "You''ll still be my best friend even if you turn into a vampire and try to suck my blood."

    "A what?!"

 Itchy

    Jack returned Tara''s confused stare. There was a hint of something else there, too. He hunched over under her intense scrutiny and looked away. Apparently, he''d been way off, and now she had reason to think he was even crazier than before. He blew it.

    "Vampire? You think I''m¡ª" Tara''s eyes darted about, slowly narrowing with realization. "Fuck, that''s why you''re so weird about Kieran! Antiquing?! Oh, my god!"

    She was taking the revelation a lot better than Jack had. Maybe he hadn''t been that far off the mark. "Turns out most of my boyfriends have been vampires? And my blood''s kinda addictive, so I''d understand if you tried to get a taste."

    "I''m not¡ª" She looked around before dropping her voice to a harsh whisper. "I''m not a vampire! I''m a werewolf, moron! See if I ever save your dumb ass from being mugged again."

    Of course those were real, too. Great. And when the hell was he about to get mugged? He stopped short as he remembered the black stray. She had mentioned getting a dog and wanting him to take it on walks. His mind tripped over the image of Tara wearing the reflective dog collar. And, with Augie''s confession fresh in his mind, there were too many images colliding together that he really didn''t want to think about.

    "Okay. Can I watch?" he asked, curiosity taking control of his mouth.

    A slap upside the head was his answer.

    "Sorry," he mumbled as he rubbed the back of his head. "What''s it like? Can I ask that?"

    Tara regarded Jack for a minute before relenting. "Remember American Werewolf in London? That''s kinda what it''s like. I mean, not super painful. I''ve had worse cramps, but it fucking itches like a god damned bitch."

    "Literally."

    "Fuck you."

    They approached a bench that had already been cleared of snow, and Tara dropped down, kicking her feet out. Jack sat beside her, his shoulder bumping hers as he adjusted his bag.

    She rested her head on Jack''s shoulder and took a long, deep breath. "I''m gonna have to stop shaving my legs, ''cuz it just grows right back after I change, so what''s the point?"

    "Now you''ll have more in common with Candy," he said. His mind was caught in a loop of werewolf transformation scenes.

    "Shit. Don''t tell her," Tara groaned, rubbing her face into Jack''s shoulder. "She''ll think she won for all the wrong reasons."

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    He looked at the top of her head and resisted the urge to pet her. He should not be okay with his best friend being a werewolf. He shouldn''t be okay with dating a vampire, either, but here he was.

    He didn''t want their dynamic to change. He loved Tara. She was his best friend. Almost every piece of media had vampires and werewolves as enemies. Was he going to have to pick a side? "Since I''m dating a vampire¡­ Are you guys supposed to be mortal enemies?"

    "Fuck if I know," Tara said as she sat up straight and crossed her arms. "I ditched that whole pack-thing. The guy that bit me? Fucking Shane? Kicked his ass and walked out."

    He was relieved that Tara hadn''t been sexually assaulted, but it was overshadowed by the whole werewolf thing. "Shane? There''s a werewolf out there named Shane?"

    "Yeah. It sucks ''cuz he was hot as hell," she whined. "Shoulda known he was just cruisin'' for chicks."

    Jack didn''t know what to say that could possibly make Tara feel better. "Sorry if attracting hot assholes is contagious."

    She laughed softly and met Jack''s eyes. "You mighta caught it from me," she said before leaning back and spreading her arms across the back of the bench. "Whatever. He looks plain as a wolf. I''m the better wolf. I''m black."

    "I never noticed."

    She let out a sharp laugh and faced him with a curious look. "You gonna be a vamp?"

    "What?"

    "Well?"

    "I¡­ I never really thought about it." It was a scary thought. Immortality seemed to come with a lot of baggage that you just kept on collecting over the years. And years and years¡­ "Ask me when I''m forty."

    "Forty?"

    "I don''t wanna look like some loser kid for the rest of my life. Maybe I''ll get some grey hairs and look distinguished or something."

    "Well, there''s one right here," she said as she reached up and plucked a hair from Jack''s head.

    "Ow!" He rubbed at the side of his head, squinting at the hair Tara held out. Sure enough, it was silver. He had a flash of a memory of his dad teasing his mom about going grey early.

    "I can see becoming immortal being a midlife crisis," she said as she shook the hair from her hand. She watched as Jack made a note on his phone. "More commitment than a nice car, though."

    A lot of commitment. And now he was in a committed relationship with an immortal. He finished his note and looked back at Tara. "Can I tell Kieran about this?"

    She made a face and looked away. "Can it wait? I''m being all lone wolf over here. I got a doggy bed for my back porch."

    "It''s freezing!" Jack couldn''t understand how she could just come out and say things like that as if her life hadn''t changed much. It was like she was talking about getting a new table, not becoming a new species.

    "It''s nice!" Tara shot back. "Did you know snow smells? Like, everything smells. I can''t wait until we get some rain!"

    She was embracing her new normal, and Jack felt left behind. He needed to catch up. There was no reason to hide away from what he didn''t understand. The reason was dead and gone. Headless and crispy.

    "You wanna grab lunch? I know a bar you might like now," Jack asked with a tentative smile.

 Pack Mentality

    Moonshine''s sign was simple and understated in a simple dark blue font on an off-white background. The building''s windowless brick facade was uninviting with its collection of peeling club and concert posters. There was an abandoned feel to it that Jack had been too jittery to notice the two times he''d been there.

    "You sure they''re open?" Tara asked, pointing to a sign taped to the door.

    Jack looked at the sign. He remembered seeing something taped up the last time he was there with Kieran, but he hadn''t bothered to read it. It claimed the inside was under renovation. There was no date, and it looked like it had been posted a while ago. "Uh, maybe?"

    Tara looked from Jack to the door and gave it an experimental tug. It opened easily, and she froze, eyes wide as she breathed in deeply.

    "You okay?" Jack looked past her, but found nothing that stood out as different in the short hall that led deeper inside.

    "I''m good," she tightly replied. "Lotsa smells I ain''t used to. Maybe we shouldn''t do this?"

    "Will you get used to it if we just hang out here for a bit?"

    Tara shook her head. "No, it''s like I''m gonna fucking kick someone''s ass if they look at you funny."

    "Like a territorial thing?"

    "Do I look like I know?" she bit out.

    Jack shrank back as Tara looked away, mumbling an apology. "Uh, just¡­ Here, lemme just check something. I''ll be right back." He pulled out his body spray and spritzed it around his neck.

    She nodded stiffly and gestured to the hall. "Okay, fine. Don''t be long."

    Jack cautiously entered the bar and looked around. The construction workers from his first visit were at a booth in the front corner. None of the other patrons really stood out. He went up to the bar and waited until the bartender noticed him.

    "Afternoon. What can I getcha?"

    "Uh¡­ Nothing yet," Jack said, his eyes roaming over the bottles lining the backsplash. Now was not the time to start his journey through the bar''s catalog of drinks. "Just a quick question. My friend''s outside, and¡­" He ran his hand up and down his bag''s strap as he tried to come up with how to phrase his question.

    "Don''t think we banned any leeches recently," the bartender said as he leaned on his elbows. He grinned as his eyes flicked over the room. "Even if it''d be funny."

    "No, um¡­ Different friend. She''s been recently¡­ I''m sorry. I don''t know how everything works." Jack lowered his voice and stared at the bar counter. He had to remind himself that he was in a not-so-human-friendly bar. "She''s a werewolf now? ''Cuz that''s a thing?"

    "That is a thing that happens," the bartender said with a nod as he straightened, giving Jack an expectant look.

    "No, I mean¡­" Jack shook his head and softly sighed. "Sorry. She just thinks she''s gonna be overprotective of me in here. I just thought I''d, uh, open the door to a, uh, wider community? For her? Since neither of us really know anything."

    The bartender gave Jack a once over then looked to the entrance. "And no one''s told your friend shit? Got a reason for that?" he asked, his annoyance loud and clear.

    "Uh¡­ Why?" Did Jack just doom Tara to being hunted down? Was ditching a pack she''d never met a punishable offense? Was it more about her being a victim of an asshole? He should have just let things be.

    "Pack mentality. Or something. I dunno, I ain''t a wolf," the bartender said with a shrug. He looked past Jack and waved. "Mandy!"

    Jack''s original happy thoughts about the waitress were dashed across a wolf-shaped rock. He looked over miserably as she came up to the counter with a welcoming smile. Was the only reason she was so friendly to him before because he smelled good? Would he rather she be nice because she expected a tip? Non-humans were proving to be too confusing.

    "Sunshine''s back! I don''t like that look." Mandy''s smile dropped, and she tilted her head with a sad little frown.

    "Wolf shit. Your problem," the bartender said before quickly backing off, his hands raised.

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    Jack ducked his head and stared at the floor. "Sorry."

    "No worries. Ditch the leech for a wolf?" she asked with a wide grin.

    He looked back up. "I''m kinda getting offended on his behalf for the leech thing." Even though he''d said it himself, but that was mostly about Augie. His phone pinged with a text, and he pulled it out.

    what is taking SO LONG?!?!

    "So my friend''s a werewolf now, and she didn''t ask for it," he said quickly. He swallowed as Mandy''s eyes narrowed. "Please don''t lock her up."

    What looked like anger switched to confusion. "What?"

    "She''s doing fine? She''s happy enough? She''s just worried she''ll start a bar fight." As soon as he said it, the world seemed to right itself. If anything, Tara came off as more careful, actually hesitant to walk into a situation where she might have to defend Jack''s honor against the perceived thugs of the world. "But that''s actually kinda normal when it comes to me, now that I''m thinking about it."

    Mandy nodded in understanding and laughed softly. "Oh, she''ll be fine. Take that booth in the back corner," she said as she pointed. "Us wolves are easy-peasy."

    "Okay. Thanks." He tapped out his reply to Tara.

    all gud

    cmon in

    Jack watched as Tara warily entered the bar. Her eyes darted about the patrons before finally landing on Jack. "Mandy, the, uh, the waitress says you''ll be fine," he said quietly when she stopped in front of him.

    "Sure," Tara replied, drawing the word out as she went back to looking around. Her eyes lingered on the bartender.

    "She said the booth in the corner over there''ll be good." Jack nodded to the back corner and waited for Tara to lead the way. He hoped everything would be okay. It didn''t feel like he was leading Tara into a trap, but what would he know? Walking head first into a bad situation was his favorite pastime.

    They sat opposite each other with Tara looking out at the rest of the bar. She watched as Mandy approached, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

    "Welcome in. I''m Mandy, and I''ll be your server. Can I get any drinks started for you?" Her voice held the typical brightness of a waitress. She set a pair of menus on the table, her smile never leaving even as Tara looked her over with obvious suspicion.

    Jack took a menu, but all his attention was on Tara. "Part of me wants a Long Island Iced Tea, and part of me knows better."

    "Sure. Same," Tara said, not taking her eyes off Mandy.

    "You''ll get used to it," Mandy said reassuringly. She gave Tara a solid nod before tilting her head to the side. "Sounds like you got a pretty good handle on things. But I gotta ask¡­ Who bit you?"

    "Am I gonna get sent to doggy jail or something for fighting back?" Tara asked, glaring up at Mandy with a raised brow.

    Mandy''s eyes widened. "Fighting back? Why¡­? What happened?"

    Tara briefly glanced at Jack then at the table in resignation. "I broke his leg. It was self defense." She let out a slow breath and looked back up at Mandy and winced. "Mighta took one of his toes, too¡­"

    A soft growl emanated from Mandy before she broke off with a cough and cleared her throat. "Depending on what happened, he''d be the one going to, uh, jail." She looked over her shoulder, eyes briefly landing on the construction workers. "We generally police our own. So if you''re okay with how things turned out, then it''s fine. But if you didn''t sign up for this¡­ Sorry, hun, but there ain''t no cure. It''s not like the movies."

    Tara visibly relaxed. "Oh. Then it''s all good. Shane Williams. Don''t think he''s gonna come sniffin'' around anytime soon."

    "Never heard of him." Mandy tore off a page from her notepad and set it on the table. "If you wanna write up a description, I''ll send word ''round to warn others. Might not do much, but it''ll make setting up shop a hassle." She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. "And if you want to¡­maybe have him roughed up? Send a little message? I''ll be sure to mention it to the right people, but only if you feel it''s necessary."

    "The right people, huh? Think my message was pretty straight forward. Am I s''posed to sign up for a pack or something?" Tara asked as she pulled the slip of paper closer. "He made it sound like I needed that. Or I''d go crazy or something? But I feel fine."

    "They all say that, if you catch my drift," Mandy said dryly.

    Tara nodded with a laugh. "That''s what I was thinking," she said as she grabbed up a menu. "So, yeah. Drinks! Thanks! Long Islands all around. I''m paying. He doesn''t get a say."

    Jack glared at Tara. He wasn''t broke. He bit at his lip as he kept himself from pulling out his wallet to double check. Instead, he pulled out his phone.

    "Comin'' right up. Charlie makes a mean Iced Tea," Mandy said, nodding to the bartender. "Stick with one for now, trust me."

    Tara looked over to the bar, a small grin forming. "Is Charlie single?"

    "You don''t want a piece of that."

    "Yeah, I''ve had bad taste lately." Tara leaned back with a sigh. "Damn fucking shame."

    "Don''t I know it," Mandy agreed before heading to the bar.

    Tara fished around for a pen and began jotting down Shane''s description. She looked up at Jack when she finished. "You coming to New Year''s? Sam''s mom''s making her punch."

    Jack wanted in on that punch. Slushy, fizzy, and all boozed up to perfection. "I''ll think about it. But I don''t think Sam likes Kieran. Still."

    "Yeah, he''ll like him even less when his mom falls in love!"

    Sam wouldn''t have to worry about it since Jack wasn''t planning on going. No punch, but no awkward politeness. Maybe he could just ask for the recipe and have a whole bowl to himself and get drunk with Kieran.

 Home

    Jack waved to Tara as she continued down the sidewalk, walking off the rest of her buzz. He entered the antique shop, happily secure in the knowledge that he and Tara would have a shared bar to hang out at. He smiled at Kieran when their eyes met. It was a good day. A weird, but good day.

    "Welcome home, my sweet. How was your morning?"

    Jack''s stomach dipped, and he grabbed his bag strap. There was too much permanence and love in so few words. He didn''t have a home. His apartment barely counted as one. He didn''t deserve a real home. He didn''t deserve someone waiting for him, offering love and affection.

    He swallowed and looked at the floor as his steps stuttered to a stop just in front of the counter.

    Kieran''s light smile faded. "Jack? Is everything alright?"

    "No, I''m good," Jack insisted, nodding stiffly. He deserved nice things, he reminded himself. He deserved love. He pulled out his phone and blinked in surprise at all the new notes he''d added over the past few hours. "Um¡­ Home. Yeah. That. I''m back."

    "Oh. I''m sorry. I thought¡ª"

    "No, it''s fine. Really," Jack insisted. If he was going to end up locked away in a basement, it would have happened by now. Unless he was being treated like some sort of homing pigeon, a vicious little voice whispered. He added another note to his phone with a frustrated sigh. A homing pigeon was preferable to being an amputated torso by a long shot. "I met up with Tara for lunch. It was good. Fine. She doesn''t think I''m too annoying, so it''s all good. Yeah, I''m home."

    He looked up from his phone to meet Kieran''s small and understanding smile. "Home. How home is home?"

    "As much as you would like it to be," Kieran said softly as he leaned forward.

    "Sorry I''m so insecure."

    "You needn''t¡ª"

    Jack quickly closed the distance and cut Kieran off with a kiss. He pulled back just as quickly, cheeks warm as he twisted his earring. "Yeah, so strong drinks. Tara brought up some shit, and it''s kinda messing with me."

    "Do you wish to talk about it?"

    Jack shook his head. "Just weird shit. I''ll tell you later. We both have a habit of picking winners in the dating department. Er, not that you''re included in that. You''re a winner-winner."

    "Chicken dinner," a cold breeze whispered.

    Jack covered a snort and gave Kieran a small grin. "What she said. Yeah, we had a vent session, and I have way too many notes in my phone now that I gotta write out by hand. And then back. I think it''s helping? I remember the color of the box cutter without looking it up."

    Kieran reached over and touched Jack''s cheek. "Oh, my sweet Jack¡­"

    "No, no! It''s good," Jack said, quickly shaking his head. "Okay, not great-good, but okay-good."

    Kieran lightly stroked Jack''s cheek down to his chin. He dropped his hand when the bells on the door chimed. "You''ll let me know if you need anything from me?" He placed his hand on Jack''s shoulder and gave a light squeeze.

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    Jack nodded. He shuffled to the side as Kieran greeted his latest customers. He shrank into himself as the pair of women asked about lamps, one of them briefly looking in his direction. He poked around the counter as he waited for Kieran to finish up and frowned when he saw one of the notes to Thomas sitting behind the register.

    Kieran returned and took his seat behind the register. He looked from the two women to Jack. "I supposed I shall see you after I close up?"

    "Yeah, I guess." Jack leaned closer and dropped his voice. "Notes? Just¡­hanging around? You really think that''s gonna work?"

    Kieran had the decency to look uncertain. "I fell out of touch with Thomas some years ago. He was rather irritated with me. I¡­ I had caught wind of Augustin''s whereabouts. As¡ª" he broke off with a sigh. "As well as his continued interest. It may have encouraged me into seeking out his sire''s location. My belief that he would not be so blatant in his pursuits in front of her was proven wrong."

    Jack did his best to ignore the implications of what else had been going through Kieran''s head at the time. "And Tommy didn''t want to be around when you fell off the wagon?"

    "He was under the impression I should jump off and, well, get that bastard out of my system." Kieran looked up with a self-deprecating smile. "I felt fleeing the country was a better use of my time."

    Another customer entered the store, and Kieran gave a brief greeting, his smile stiff and bordering on annoyed.

    "I got this," Lindsey said, manifesting behind Kieran. "I''ll grab you if anyone buys something big. I have a whole spiel on how I''m afraid to bag things since I''m clumsy."

    Kieran relented and nodded as he left the counter and led Jack to the backroom. Once hidden from the view of others, Kieran pulled Jack into a tight hug and kissed him. When Jack didn''t shy away, he deepened the kiss, threading his fingers through Jack''s hair.

    Someday, Jack would enjoy coming home to Kieran without feeling guilt or fear. He was determined to get there even if an annoying and persistent voice in the back of his mind kept shooting the thought down.

    The kiss ended, and he quickly placed another, brief peck on Kieran''s lips, spiteful against the lingering intrusive thoughts. He looked away, and his eyes landed on one of the notes to Thomas. He looked back at Kieran and nodded to the note. "I see where Tom''s coming from with the whole get it outta your system thing," he said quietly. He tried to smile. "But I''m glad you didn''t."

    "As am I." Kieran caressed Jack''s cheek. "Will you be sleeping on the couch tonight?"

    Jack shrugged. "I¡­ I don''t keep a good sleep schedule. Or sleep good. I''m gonna be working on the database and plugging in a couple things that looked easy, so I''m gonna be up pretty late." And sorting through another small stack of photographs he''d stumbled upon.

    "I don''t mind."

    "Even if I crawl into bed at three, and you''re getting up at six?" He felt proud of himself for not bringing up the night terrors, but Kieran already knew about them. He had to admit that he was curious if cuddling up with his own personal vampire-shaped pillow would help keep them at bay. No extra help, just a warm body. He didn''t deserve to wake up comfortable and warm. He was lucky to wake up at all.

    Kieran''s hand rested on the back of Jack''s neck, pulling him forward a step. "If I sleep through you joining me, then I''ll have a lovely surprise for when I wake."

    "Uh¡­" Jack swallowed against the need to pull away. His eyes refocused on Kieran''s patient smile. He breathed in shakily as he wrenched his hand free of its grip from his bag''s strap.

    Crispy, crunchy, headless.

    He closed his eyes and slowly let out his breath. "Will you be waking me up?"

    "I''ll do my best to let you sleep."

    There was something in Kieran''s smile that Jack didn''t quite trust. Not so much that he would avoid Kieran or the bedroom, but it set his heart beating quick with anticipation. "Okay¡­"

    "Nothing too lurid." Kieran kissed Jack lightly on the cheek. "You may do the same to me when you come to bed."

    Kieran seemed to think there was no question that Jack would join him. "We''ll see."

    A lingering touch trailed from Jack''s cheek down his neck. He watched as Kieran went back to work, and all thoughts of sleeping on the couch vanished. He wanted to be half awake with fingers running through his hair, lips teasingly caressing his neck, and warm, loving arms wrapping around him.

    Soft, gentle touches to help wipe away the memories of grabbing and pain.

 Indulgence

    A soft knock on the study door had Jack slamming his laptop shut, safely hiding away his latest foray into the land of Irish folk songs.

    "Yeah? Come in? Hi?" He glanced at the pretty tambour mantel clock that sat between two sets of encyclopedias. He grimaced at the time and looked over as Kieran opened the door. Was he supposed to apologize for hiding away until well past closing?

    Kieran held a platter with a plate and a glass of red wine. "I thought you might be hungry. It looks like you''ve been rather busy," he said as his eyes roamed over the cluttered desk.

    Jack quickly glanced over the papers and photographs spread out in front of him. There was no evidence of his slacking off. Looking up what the hell a bodhr¨¢n was counted as research. Getting sidetracked was just an occupational hazard. "I like food. Yeah. Sorry. Hungry. I could eat."

    "If you could clear a space?" Kieran gestured with his elbow. "I don''t wish to disrupt you too badly."

    "What? Here? Not together?" Was this punishment for being a flake? Eight o''clock was a little on the late side. But getting a delicious home cooked meal was a strange punishment. One Jack wouldn''t mind getting again.

    Kieran shook his head with a smile. "I ate as I cooked. My mind was elsewhere."

    "His mind was on Tommy Ghost and not doing enough to fix the problem," Lindsey happily explained. Her shadow pulled away from behind an armchair and hovered just behind Kieran.

    "Yes, thank you for that insight," Kieran said tightly, throwing a glare over his shoulder. He eyed the doorjamb for a moment.

    "I''m just saying graffiti''s low effort. But, yeah, I guess it''s something." The room''s temperature dropped. "When''s my phone getting installed?" she asked as Kieran rolled his eyes.

    Jack shivered and attempted to pull his sweater''s sleeves over his hands, barely covering his knuckles. He didn''t want to ban Lindsey from the study, but the reminder that she could spy on him at any moment was unsettling. Was this how Sam felt? He refused to believe it. The circumstances were completely different, and Sam never watched seance videos because he was too far gone over Candace. Somehow, Jack''s illegal activities were less embarrassing than the damn sheep videos.

    "It''s better than anything I got," Jack admitted, watching as Lindsey''s shadow moved from one corner of the room to the other. "I don''t think using me as bait would be a popular idea." He cleared a space off the desk and casually shifted his laptop to the side and over a handful of old photographs. Photographs that were going to find their way into his personal photo album. All the evidence for his problem was neatly stacked at one corner of the desk.

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    "Certainly not with me. Although¡­ Bait may work in the form of a wine tasting," Kieran said as he set the platter down on the desk corner. He paused and shook his head, quickly discarding the idea. "No. Never again."

    Jack''s attention was already on his plate. Some sort of meat on a bone with bits of green garnish sat on one side with a small salad beside it. His dinner consisted of delicious looking mystery meat and mystery greens. "This looks good. What is it?"

    "Lamb chops and an arugula salad."

    Jack stared at his plate as a familiar tune played in his head. He mouthed the words, frowning over the fact that he knew them even if he couldn''t properly remember the show. He hummed a few bars, and memories of a fluffy little hand puppet and curly red hair solidified.

    "Is it stuck in your head, too?" Lindsey asked from beside his shoulder.

    "Yeah, and I don''t know if that''s good or bad¡­ I think good?" He smiled softly as he picked up his phone and made a note. "I watched Lambchop''s Play-Along with my mom as a kid. Dad hated it when we''d sing at the table."

    "I doubt he truly hated it," Kieran said softly as he stroked Jack''s hair.

    "Yeah, no. It was that sorta ''I love you guys, but why are you like this?'' kinda thing." Jack''s smile wobbled as tears pricked his eyes. He blinked the feeling away as he breathed through it.

    He smiled up at Kieran and lightly shook his head. "I''m fine. Thanks for dinner," he said as he pulled the platter closer. A real silver platter with little handles and an engraved border. He felt so ritzy. Especially with his fancy salad.

    "Of course, my sweet," Kieran said. He leaned down to kiss Jack''s cheek before moving to one of the armchairs. He sat down and crossed one leg over the other, ankle resting on a knee.

    "You gonna sit there and watch me eat?" Jack didn''t know how he felt about that. Flattered. Shy. Kind of weirded out¡­

    "I thought I would read." Kieran held up a book and gave Jack a wide, shit-eating grin.

    Jack squinted at the cover. He couldn''t make out the title from where he sat, but there were enough other clues for what he was in for. The paperback was faded and worn with age; it was still a bluish green, and there was no mistaking the cowboy and horses that stood in front of a hanging noose. His stomach squirmed. He had asked for this, and Kieran was delivering.

    "The Gallows at Graneros," Kieran said as he turned the book to look at it. "Unless there was a specific title you had in mind? Something by Louis L''Amour should be easy enough to quickly find. He was rather prolific."

    "I''m easy?" Jack managed to gasp out. He never really thought Kieran would indulge him like this. Maybe some sophisticated poetry. Shakespeare. Something he might have been forced to read in high school. On second thought, he''d gladly take the pulpy cowboys.

    Kieran nodded and opened the book. "The Gallows at Graneros. By Lewis B. Patten. Chapter One."

    Jack had been expecting light, soft, and slightly lyrical. A sweet and beautiful contradiction to the material being read.

    What he got was his Lucky Charms farmboy. He forced himself to pick up his knife and fork. If he ignored his blush long enough, it might actually go away.

 A Different Afterglow

    As far as Jack was concerned, he''d just gotten laid. The giddiness he''d been left with was like nothing he''d felt before, and there was an eagerness for the next batch of chapters. Being read to was everything he''d hoped for and more. He was able to sit back, relax, and let Kieran''s voice sweep over him. It was like an interactive audio book where he could pause and ask questions. Instead of feeling stupid for having to look things up, Kieran was patient with Jack''s interruptions, explaining words he''d never heard or had forgotten. There was no shame for not knowing. No blame for not having done better to learn more on his own.

    Maybe if his first experience with sex had been with someone like Kieran, he would have been more into it. He frowned as he thought more about it. No, he would be flattered, but still bored and sticky. The book was much more fun and entertaining, even with its dated terms. Possibly even because of it. Kieran''s raised eyebrow and subtle sighs were a wonderful treat.

    As he straightened up the desk, his thoughts lingered on the goodnight kiss Kieran had left him with before taking the platter and dishes away. The offer to clean up had been declined, and he''d been soundly silenced with Kieran''s lips on his own. There hadn''t been any soft touches thanks to Kieran''s hands being full, but he''d still managed to back Jack against a bookcase during the kiss.

    Jack''s cheeks burned as he looked at the disheveled books from where his elbow had knocked into them. The memory of Kieran''s soft laugh echoed through his head, and he scratched at his shoulder. How could he go about getting that to happen again? Without asking.

    There was something to be said about getting a little bit of affection and then being left alone to process it.

    He looked at the clock and grimaced at how much time he''d spent running the evening''s events over and over in his head. It was almost one in the morning, and he''d actually managed to be productive since Kieran had left. Mindlessly filling in fields and uploading pictures gave him plenty of time to enjoy his happy little afterglow.

    He went about getting ready for bed, gathering up his clothing and heading to the bathroom. He glanced out at the living room, and his eyes fell upon the couch and the bed linens sitting beside it. He looked down at the night clothes he held in his arms then to the door that led to Kieran''s room. It was open by just a crack. Enough for Jack to let himself in. Enough for it to be an open invitation.

    He swallowed and headed into the bathroom. If he joined Kieran, then there was no way he could wear a sweatshirt to bed. Neither of them needed to be woken up by him kicking off sheets or struggling to get out of his shirt.

    He pulled off his sweater and screwed his eyes shut as he took off the undershirt before looking in the mirror. If he ignored his arms, he looked pretty okay. More than okay with his new haircut. He glared at his resentful frown.

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    He changed clothes and reassessed his reflection. The T-shirt was loose enough that it nearly came to his elbow, covering a decent amount of scars. He ran his fingers along the raised skin, tracing and crossing lines. He willed himself to keep his breathing even. They didn''t feel disgusting, just different. A different texture.

    He still wasn''t about to run around outside without long sleeves on, but he could manage short sleeves in the apartment.

    He finished getting ready for bed then quietly slipped into Kieran''s bedroom. He used his phone''s screen to give himself just enough light to navigate around the bed. He found Kieran asleep on his side, one arm beneath his pillow and the other loosely stretched in front of him.

    Jack chewed at his lips as his heart rate kicked up a notch. He''d been invited to bed. He had permission. He wasn''t being clingy or intrusive or weird. Kieran wanted him there.

    Kieran wanted him.

    He glared at the empty spot beside Kieran. Half of him insisted it was fake, and it was all a ruse just to get him to comply. No one wanted him for him, just whatever he had to offer. Be it questionable computer knowledge or blood.

    Jack let out a slow breath and set his phone on the nightstand. Sure, his thoughts were an anxious mess of uncertainty, but anger was slowly taking over the initial dip of fear. He hoped it was a sign of progress.

    He pulled back the sheets and crawled under them, listening for any sign of accidentally waking Kieran. As he settled in, his hand brushed against Kieran''s. His hand was gently clasped and tugged. He swallowed and scooted closer.

    He brought Kieran''s hand to his lips and kissed it. "G''nite," he whispered. He got a soft squeeze in reply before Kieran moved his arm to rest across Jack''s waist.

    It wasn''t as awkward as he''d been expecting. He moved even closer and quickly kissed the corner of Kieran''s mouth. He pulled the covers tighter over his shoulder and settled in for sleep.

    It wasn''t long before he was drifting in and out, surrounded with comforting random thoughts rather than the nightmares he was used to.

    ---

    Light pressure on Jack''s ear drew him awake. The kisses continued along his jaw and to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head before Kieran could give him a proper kiss. "No morning breath," he mumbled into his pillow.

    Kieran chuckled and pulled away. "I''ll do my best to not get caught up in the moment in the future. However, I expect a proper morning greeting when you come down," he said, placing another kiss into Jack''s hair.

    Jack nodded and waved Kieran off. "Deal."

    "I''ll be certain to remind you."

    Good, because Jack was absolutely certain he was going to forget.

 Anchored

    Christmas shopping. Horrible, crowded, frantic Christmas shopping needed to be done.

    Jack sighed as he watched the water from the tap wash away the last of the shaving cream. He still had no idea what he could get for Kieran. He wanted to get something thoughtful. Something meaningful.

    Something that was on par with the high end cocoa mix he found in the cupboard. And that was part of the problem. Jack would mention something, and he would find it the next day. He wasn''t particularly observant like that. He couldn''t take a little side comment and come back with something nice.

    He looked up and checked his reflection one more time before deciding he looked decent enough to brave the world for a couple hours. Maybe he would get lucky and come across something at a local boutique. Maybe a nice bookmark. Did they make high end bookmarks?

    He spent a few minutes checking his bank account and frowning at the fact that he had more than just a savings and checking account. The amount sitting between the accounts was more than shocking. No wonder Sam never worried about getting paid back. He transferred enough into his checking to cover a decent shopping trip and wrote the new balance on a sticky note he stuck to his debit card.

    The moment Jack closed the banking app and opened his notes, everything was lost. He frowned at the blank page as his stomach clenched. Whatever he was going to write was gone, and he could only hope he''d be reminded again. If it was so bad that he couldn''t remember in the few seconds it took to open his notes, then he should start carrying a pen and writing on his hand.

    He could only imagine the looks he''d get. With an angry huff, he shoved his phone in his pocket and fetched a pen from the study. He wouldn''t let Farragut win, no matter how embarrassed he''d be writing stupid notes on his stupid hand. Other people did it, and they didn''t have his excuse of being fucked over by a vampire.

    He stared at the cheap black ballpoint pen he''d found. It had the electronics store''s branding printed across it in neon yellow. He''d seen the cashier expertly twirling one on several occasions. Just on the edge of his memory, he could see his father doing the same motions.

    He gave the pen an experimental flick, sending it across the room. He retrieved it, embarrassed over the failed attempt.

    He made a quick circuit through the apartment, making sure he cleaned up after himself to the best of his ability. Satisfied, he grabbed his laptop bag and headed down the stairs.

    He shivered as he descended. The stairwell was cold enough, and outside was going to be worse. He hoped there was someplace nearby with something that would make a good gift. Preferably the first place he walked into, so he wouldn''t experience the awkwardness of leaving without buying anything.

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    At the landing, he shook his head at the taped up sign. But how else were you supposed to get in contact with a part-time ghost?

    "Hey, kiddo."

    Jack knew that disembodied voice. He looked back at the stairs and found a familiar young man covered in blood lounging in the middle of the stairwell. Thomas''s right arm disappeared into the wall, and a leg was halfway through one of the steps.

    "Got my note," Thomas said, pointing to the wall. "Go get Kieran."

    "Y-you''re dead." Jack pulled his coat tight. He''d just walked through a ghost. How many had he walked through in his lifetime? Had he ever unknowingly walked through Lindsey? Did he need to apologize?

    "Unalive," Thomas corrected. "Fresh and partially anchored. Did myself a favor giving Kieran my old stuff. Kinda surprised he didn''t sell the clock, but it worked out. Makes doing this easier," he said, waving a hand down the length of his body.

    He stared at the grandfather clock for a moment before looking up at the ceiling. "Sometimes wanted it back when I missed my mother, but that''d mean having to ask about it, and then there''d be questions. And then probably therapy, and I don''t have that sorta time."

    The way Thomas said "anchored" put Jack on edge.

    "Hey, do you know how ghosts can get high? The worst part of overdosing is losing it."

    "Uh... No." He didn''t know how ghosts worked to begin with, so how the hell should he know how they could get high?

    Thomas sighed and dropped his head back, partly dipping through a step. "Too bad, mighta considered a permanent transition. So. You and Kieran." He ran his eyes over Jack. "He actually looks happy. For once."

    Jack shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, doing his best not to look at Thomas. He was doing exactly what he''d been told not to do. But did it really count when Augie was no longer part of the picture?

    "Kept popping in at all the wrong times, I guess." Thomas sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. "I''m sorry I misread the situation and got a little extra excitement in your life." His apology fell flat when given with his smirk.

    "I have enough excitement, thanks," Jack dryly replied.

    Thomas slumped back into the stairs. "Yeah, looked into you when I saw you sticking around and connected the dots. Too bad your first time had to be with someone who didn''t play nice."

    Jack grimaced and looked down. What would his life have been like if a different vampire had come across him before Farragut? Would he have gone to college? Have a real job? Would his parents still be alive?

    "My first time was shoving my bloody wrist in his face, and finding out I was too much of a drunkard for him to want anything to do with. Sober wrist?" Thomas grinned at Jack and chuckled. "That was fun. Like sticking your head in a crocodile''s mouth for a photograph, and hoping your friends don''t lose their grip. Excitement is when he hasn''t properly fed for a while, and you offer him a hit of liquid cocaine." He broke off with a mournful sigh. "I miss Coke. Real Coke. They don''t make it like they used to."

    Jack swallowed and pointed to the door leading into the shop. "I''m gonna go get Kieran now."

    "Thanks, kiddo!"

 Incoporreal

    The soft opening and closing of the backroom door caught Kieran''s attention. He glanced  over as Jack quickly headed his way, eyes darting over every surface and lingering on the customers scattered through the shop. It appeared as if his promise for a proper morning greeting hadn''t been forgotten after all.

    Jack leaned in close, eyes still on a small group of nearby customers. "Hey¡­"

    Kieran captured Jack''s lips in a light kiss, delighted that it lasted for a moment longer than he''d expected. It was nice to know that the customers weren''t as much of a deterrent for affection as he''d been expecting.

    Jack twisted his earring as he slowly pulled away, eyes glued to the counter. "Tommy''s dead again." He frowned and mouthed the words once more.

    "Tommy¡­ Thomas?" Kieran stood and looked to the backroom door, his good cheer dashed upon the mention of that name. He wasn''t ready. "M-my Thomas?"

    "Yeah, he''s in the stairwell, bleeding everywhere. Like, a lot," Jack said lowly as he looked around, eyeing a small group of customers who were looking through a case of cheap jewelry near the front of the store. "I''m not doin'' too good. At least it''s¡­incorporeal? I think that''s the word I''m looking for. There and not there."

    Kieran looked back at Jack in time to see him pale, staring out into the store with unfocused eyes. He came out from behind the counter and lightly touched Jack''s cheek. He never should have wiped the memory from Jack''s mind. "It''s alright, sweet thing. I''ll deal with him."

    Jack gave a sharp, jerky nod.

    A dark shadow broke off from behind a bookshelf and solidified. "Woah, wait. Tommy''s here?" Lindsey frowned as her eyes unfocused, and she shook her head. "Oh, that feels weird. That''s not a normal manifestation."

    "Lindsey¡­" Kieran looked from Lindsey to the customers. They were being fairly self-sufficient for once, most looking for last minute knickknacks. He could spare five minutes. "Watch the register."

    She looked from the register to the backdoor, biting her lip. She then looked at the group of customers longingly. "You''re not gonna run him off, right?"

    "I assure you, now that he''s made his presence known, he''ll likely return. Often. We won''t be rid of him for at least five years," Kieran said, glaring at the backdoor. He hoped the prospect wouldn''t anger Jack too much. He would at least put his foot down against Thomas setting up shop in the basement. The last thing he needed was an impromptu drug den on the property.

    Lindsey broke out in a smile before quickly covering it with an annoyed huff. "Fine. But I want my phone. And his number."

    Kieran shook his head, considering digging out a rotary phone. He doubted it would be as inconvenient to Lindsey as he hoped. He stalked to the backroom, Jack trailing behind him. He looked around expectantly, searching for any sign of Thomas hiding among the boxes.

    "He was on the stairs," Jack said as he closed the door. He looked over and let out a relieved sigh at the empty stairs.

    "Thomas!" Kieran called out, his eyes going over every inch of the stairwell. The landing felt cooler than the rest of the room, but it could simply be a draft. He hoped it was a draft. "Where are you? Show yourself!"

    A hand stuck up through the stairs before Thomas sat up. "Hey, Daddy-O. Been a while."

    Kieran stepped back and blanched at the bloodied ghost of Thomas. He had grown accustomed to finding Thomas deceased from overdosing and overdrinking. However, it was a rare sight to find him covered in blood. Worry and grief was quickly replaced by annoyance. "How are you able to keep showing up here?"

    "Why do you still have my mother''s grandfather clock?" Thomas countered. "And, most importantly, why''s it still have my old hooch in it?"

    "I''ll move the clock later," Kieran said to Jack. He eyed the old grandfather clock in question. He should move it to a storage unit. He hoped Jack would be alright with it being in the basement for the time being. "He should have a low range whenever he shows up. I think. I hope. The most he should be able to do is drop the temperature."

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    Jack watched as Thomas happily nodded along. "And there''s no way to exorcize him whenever he pops up?"

    "I¡­" Kieran''s stomach dropped. Was that expected of him?

    "I''m special," Thomas said, placing a hand on his chest. "By the way, Daddy, my clock looks nice. Almost didn''t recognize it. Mother would be so proud." His smile dropped, and he sneered. "Of someone else."

    Kieran grimaced and sent Jack an apologetic frown before facing Thomas. "Please don''t call me that."

    "Augustin gets to call Renaud ''Mother,'' why can''t I do the same?" Thomas asked defensively. He struggled to sit up and clenched his eyes shut, quickly shaking his head.

    Jack scoffed as he kept his gaze on the floor. "That''s a manipulation tactic, I guarantee it."

    "Eh¡­ Halvsies, I''d wager," Thomas replied, gesturing with his hand before letting it drop into the wall.

    Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn''t need the reminder of Augustin. "Might I ask how long until you''re feeling better?" he asked, dreading the answer. Whatever the answer, it would be too soon for him to want to deal with it.

    Thomas looked down at himself and patted his chest. "Damn soon. I tripped and fell on my knife." He looked up at Jack, waving to get his attention. "Kid, don''t use a carving knife to peel an apple while high."

    "Not planning on it?" Jack said, his eyes flicking back to Thomas. He swallowed thickly and purposefully turned away, running a hand up and down on his bag''s strap.

    Kieran moved closer and crossed his arms, staring down at Thomas. "I would appreciate it if you would be physically present for this discussion."

    "Ooh, setting up those healthy boundaries in person, are we?" Thomas asked, tilting his head. He gave a mean smile and continued. "That''s new. No letters? No more just lying down and letting everyone walk all over you? Not exactly great for me when they think I''m the same way. I''m slumming it on purpose, and I don''t appreciate people thinking I''m doing it out of solidarity. Or that I''m so desperate for redemption for having you as a sire that I''d slit a wrist."

    "If anyone ever thought you''d beg for scraps, they were sorely mistaken," Kieran said, raising a doubtful brow. The refusal to bend to the demands of others was part of what initially drew him to Thomas. It was never a question of permission to do something, it was an offer to join. "Did you shoot up as they watched? That seems more appropriate for what you''d do."

    Thomas looked from Kieran to Jack. "Forget the happiness, this is better." He gave Kieran a wide grin. "Prohibition-you was the best you."

    "You are free to leave," Kieran said, waving to the backdoor. He winced the moment the words left his mouth. They were supposed to talk. "For now. I expect you to return. Preferably today," he reluctantly added.

    "Be back in five." Thomas stroked his chest and gave his head another quick shake. "Hours."

    "Please be sober for this," Kieran stressed.

    Thomas waved his hand, rolling his eyes as he sank down into the stairs.

    "What the fuck," Jack hissed. He looked at Kieran and pointed to the stairs, his hand shaking. "What the actual fuck?!"

    "I¡­ He''s¡­ He''s a medium?" Kieran said helplessly and shook his head. Half of what came out of Thomas''s drunken mouth was such unbelievable nonsense, he never expected any of it to be true. "I truly, honestly, thought he was delusional. He''s either very powerful or¡ª"

    "Or he''s had a lot of practice," Jack finished. "I know where I''m putting my money." He ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the room in suspicion. "Do you need me here for this?"

    "Would you like to be?" Kieran could deal with Thomas on his own. He could only hope that Jack didn''t want Thomas completely out of the picture. He took a steadying breath as he prepared himself for the worst. He could only hope Thomas would understand. "Do you wish for me turn him away?"

    "What? No!" Jack gripped his elbows and shook his head. "He''s like your son or something! Kinda-son. Not an ex. He''s not trying to get into your bed. I hope."

    "No, he is strictly attracted to women. I suppose I am fond of him as a father would be," Kieran admitted. A father, an older brother¡­ "I always found his idiocy and impulsiveness amusing. It reminds me of my family."

    Jack nodded in understanding. "I think he''ll be fine now, but¡­ Is it bad that I kinda wanna be his friend? For reasons? That might have to do with being vampire crack. It''d just be kinda nice to be on good terms with someone like me. Kinda like me." He shrugged as he trailed off.

    "Only in that your blood is similar. I don''t see you sharing his need to chase the next high. Be it adrenalin or drug induced," Kieran said. He frowned and tilted his head as Jack squirmed, looking away and chewing on the side of his thumb. "My sweet?"

    "Okay, so you might wanna discourage him from hooking me up with ecstasy. ''Cuz I won''t say ''no'' to that." Jack sighed as he dropped his eyes to his thumb and glanced back up at Kieran. "Speaking of¡­ You want a hit?"

    Kieran laughed softly at the irreverence. He took Jack''s hand and lightly swiped his tongue across where Jack had torn the skin away.  Even if it was just a teasingly small taste, it was still a sign of Jack''s trust in him and meant more than any amount of blood ever could.

 Grounded

    An old wooden rotary phone sat on the counter, covered in dust and grime. Its bells had long since lost their shine, and the straight cord showed signs of fraying. Beside it sat a small set of tools, a rag, and a bottle of wood polish. Kieran would need to hunt down the brass polish later.

    He began removing the metal pieces and setting them aside. He half-listened to Lindsey going on about how strange Thomas''s presence had felt as he set about cleaning up the insides of the phone. As off-putting as it was to hear about how the half-dead felt when they manifested, it was comforting to hear her voice in the background as he worked. More so than a radio.

    Moira had been right in how Lindsey had been good for him. She eased a blistering loneliness he had grown so accustomed to that he no longer felt it. She had cracked the ice, making it all too easy for Jack to come barreling through and into his heart.

    His phone rang, and he pulled it out from beneath the counter and set it next to the register. "Here. Your new job."

    Lindsey poked the answer button and leaned over with her ear next to the speaker. "Thank you for calling O''Byrne Antiques. This is Lindsey. How may I help you?" she sang out. Her smile slowly fell as she listened. She stood up and gestured to the phone. "It''s Augie," she whispered.

    They were supposed to be past this. Augustin was supposed to be a non-issue. Kieran snatched up his phone. "How did you get this number?" he demanded.

    "From your website?" Augustin replied with some confusion. "It''s right on the front. Like the shop''s window. Lovely font. It''s a shame you couldn''t replicate it on the webpage."

    It was a shame that Lindsey''s skillset was currently limited, but Kieran wouldn''t voice it aloud. "I don''t know what it is you''re hoping to achieve¡ª"

    "A truce! A simple truce," Augustin cut in with a desperate air. "Mother''s been rather harsh with my punishment. I''m currently confined to the house with only the cleanest of blood for feeding, and the help won''t speak to me."

    The help. Kieran closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. Did Augustin even know their names? What they were capable of? Kieran had the excuse of being so disliked, he was barely tolerated on Colette''s porch. He had yet to find out if her forgiveness and declaration of accepting him back into the fold had been well-received. He wasn''t in a rush to find out. "If that''s how you refer to them, then I certainly understand why you''re receiving a cold shoulder."

    "What? It''s what they''re paid to do. Help. They help," Augustin said with a dismissive scoff. "Not particularly helpful at the moment. They''re making me cook my own food! I have to clean my own clothing. I pay people for this, but Mother won''t let me hire a service to bring food or do laundry. My nails haven''t been in such an atrocious state since my father was alive!"

    "Are you hoping I''ll come to your rescue?" Kieran asked, giving Lindsey a confused frown. He shrugged and shook his head in response to her raised eyebrows. He may need to call on Colette sooner than he''d been planning.

    "Well, I would greatly appreciate it if you had a word with Mother," Augustin said. His voice held the familiar sweet and self-deprecating tone Kieran had grown all too familiar with. "She may listen to you."

    "If her sentiment is that these are skills you need to learn, then we are in agreement," Kieran replied.

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    "What?"

    He sighed loudly, no longer able to hide his annoyance. "Even Thomas can clean a shirt and cook a simple meal." And cook other paraphernalia. He needed to come up with a list of ground rules for Thomas''s presence.

    "Who''s Thomas? I thought you were with Kyle, er, Jack," Augustin said and clicked his tongue. "I was under the impression you were serious about him. I don''t need Mother angry with you as well."

    "Thomas Carter," Kieran clarified. "I believe you''ve met him. He once said you referred to him as a ''wasted ginger fool.''"

    "Oh, that strange little addict you picked up," Augustin said in relief. "He''s much easier to find than you. How you could tolerate the nonsense he spouts off, I will never understand. You know, come to think of it, he probably does it on purpose. I always thought it sad that you had to rely on a bottom-feeder for friendship. So many nasty habits to be found there."

    A protective flash ran through Kieran. "I sired him," he bit out.

    "You what? Since when?!"

    "Since 1915." He took a long, calming breath. "Thank you for answering the question of whether or not your infatuation extended beyond what I personally had to offer in return for a little affection. And for insulting those I choose to befriend."

    "Well, I¡ª That is¡ª I thought what we had was enough. I thought you were happy," Augustin said, ending just above a whisper.

    "I was," Kieran quietly admitted. "It wasn''t until I''d been on my own that I came to the realization that I needed more."

    "And Jack gives you that?"

    "Yes." Kieran smiled and leaned back against the wall as he looked out onto the street. "It''s rather sweet how flustered he gets when looking for something to do to help around the home. He needn''t bother, but I find his attempts rather thoughtful and appreciated."

    "Oh." Augustin was silent for a moment before speaking in quiet reluctance. "I suppose you don''t wish for me to contact you again."

    Kieran pulled his eyes away from the street and the window shoppers. Had he been much, much younger, he would have still had the brash impulsiveness to completely cut ties. "I''ll have to think on it. Jack''s opinion on the matter will hold sway over my decision."

    "It''s better than an outright no," Augustin said with a small and brittle laugh. "If it garners amusement, you may wish to relay that I''m useless with a microwave."

    "Only a microwave?"

    "My allowance has been garnered to replace the washing machine, and I''ve been given a washboard with clear instructions to keep my efforts relegated to the bathtub," Augustin said in distaste. "It''s as if they think I''ll embarrass them if the neighbors catch sight of me."

    Kieran chuckled and quietly relayed Augustin''s misfortune to Lindsey. "If you wish to gain favor with your sire, I would suggest keeping a diary of your exploits and having it delivered to Jack. It would make for excellent reading material."

    "Yes, yes!" Augustin hastily agreed. "A Christmas gift! Mother seems everso attached to him."

    "Your eagerness belies your honesty." And Kieran would be warning Colette that he had planted the idea. "Don''t believe this will gain your freedom, Augustin."

    "No¡­ Unfortunately, the parameters for that have been laid out in stark clarity for me," Augustin said, sighing heavily. "It will be some time before I''m able to roam free without a chaperone. I only wish for Mother to be less cold to me. And to be allowed to call for take out."

    There would be no take out for Augustin if Kieran had anything to do with it. If Jack wished to lessen Augustin''s punishment, then he might be persuaded into mentioning cooking classes to Colette.

    The bells on the door chimed merrily, and Kieran briefly glanced up. "I''m afraid I must let you go. Some of us need to work for a living."

    "Please don''t give Mother any ideas! I''m not meant for¡ª"

    Kieran hung up with an air of satisfaction and greeted his latest customer.

 Shield

    A meandering circuit around the neighborhood had yielded a successful shopping trip. Jack had found something for Kieran, and a few small things for his friends. He''d also found a chew toy that was going to earn him a painful bruise, but it would be worth it. He turned the corner, and slowed down at the sight of red hair.

    Wearing a long and heavy winter coat, Thomas looked every bit the Chicago gangster that Jack envisioned him as. However, there was none of the confidence Jack had witnessed before as Thomas stared up at Kieran''s building. Just slumped shoulders and misery. The Louis Vuitton suitcase sitting at Thomas''s feet didn''t quite match the vibe.

    Jack drew closer and cleared his throat. "Uh, hi?"

    Thomas flinched away with a gasp. He looked at Jack with wide eyes before he regained his composure with a smile. "Kiddo!"

    Jack closed the distance between them and kept a wary eye on Thomas. He tensed up as an arm was wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and his nose was assaulted by heavy cologne.

    "Be my shield," Thomas said lowly, looking back at the building in uncertainty.

    "What?"

    "I think he might be mad at me. Saw a thrall get sent out. If he''s not up to dealing with high maintenance customers, what''s he gonna do to me?" Thomas asked, pointing from the building to himself.

    "A thrall?" A chill went up Jack''s spine at the reminder of how easily vampires could mess with someone''s memories. Just a little eye contact, and it was all over. And then he willingly let it happen without the memory wipe. It had been nice. More than nice. Was once a month too little time between sessions? Could he treat it like an oil change for his brain and schedule it for every three months?

    He pulled out his phone and made a note to check on how often oil changes were supposed to be. It could be another mark in his possible knowledge of how to drive. He still wasn''t about to ask Kieran to take him to an empty parking lot just to be disappointed.

    "Yeah, we''d do it all the time when we was moonshinin''. Don''t wanna deal with someone?" Thomas patted Jack''s shoulder. "So sorry you forgot your wallet. You better go get that, and maybe go somewhere else when you do find it. Also great for turning away nosy cops."

    An easy solution that Kieran claimed he hadn''t used with Sam. And with how gleefully Sam would recount the story, Jack was inclined to believe him. He shifted his hold on his bags as he awkwardly tucked his phone away. Thomas''s weight against his shoulder wasn''t helping, and it was starting to ache. He really shouldn''t be letting a weird, shifty vampire use him as a support.

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    "Whatcha got there?" Thomas asked, looking down and pointing.

    "Nothing for you." Jack clutched the bags tightly to his chest.

    Thomas sighed and looked back at the shop''s windows. "Did Kieran ask you to get groceries? I guess it''s the least you could do," he said, ending with a mutter.

    "No. Christmas presents." Someone who had known Kieran longer than himself might have an idea of whether or not Jack fucked up with his gift. "Do you think an e-reader and gift card are a bad idea? He''s, like, always reading. So I figured¡­ Yeah."

    Thomas turned his attention to Jack in surprise and smiled. "Trust me, anything you get him would make him happy," he said. He rolled his eyes. "Anything. He was way too ecstatic when I gave him a Christmas present the first year we knew each other. I didn''t even try." He leaned more on Jack as he stared up at the building in thought. "Gives me an idea for a good apology gift. So disgustingly sentimental. He''ll love it."

    "Okay."

    "You want anything? Whatcha into, kiddo?" he asked, shifting his hold on Jack''s shoulders to ruffle his hair.

    The nickname was a little disconcerting coming from someone who looked younger than Jack. It was still a step up from Augie''s noncommittal endearments. "I''m fine, thank you." He tried to move his head away from Thomas''s hand.

    Thomas pulled away and gave Jack''s back a light slap. "You first. You can soften him up for me. Give him a little kiss and tell him he looks nice, but not in a way that says that''s all he''s good for. I don''t want the fallout from that on my hands."

    "Sure, but, uh¡­ Are you sober?" Jack figured he was allowed to be blunt, considering his own bad habits.

    "Unfortunately," Thomas said with a sigh. He sniffed at his hand and turned it back and forth, eyeing it critically. "Low population here, so it''s not too big of a risk. Not seeing much overlap in territories. But I still ain''t chancing it without the disgusting cologne."

    "It, uh¡­ It''s a lot." Overwhelming and possibly migraine-inducing. But he could hardly blame Thomas. There didn''t seem to be a lot of options out there for people like them.

    Thomas leaned back in and took a deep whiff of Jack''s hair and nodded to himself. "Yeah, citrus might be the way to go. Or cherries. I like cherries. I could snort cherry chapstick and die happy. Kinda did once. Chapstick don''t taste as good as it smells."

    "Well, uh, my spray''s meant for kids or something," Jack said quietly, ducking his head. "I think they had other flavors, er, scents." He remembered seeing something pink with a cat, but it might have been a cow.

    "Of course kids would have the good shit," Thomas whined. "Shoulda guessed, but since cherry chapstick''s for everyone, why would I think that?" He grabbed the handle of his luggage and waved for Jack to lead the way.

 Windows

    The happy chime of the bells on the door announced Jack''s presence as he entered the shop. He caught Kieran''s eye and the quick flash of annoyance before it was replaced by a sincere smile. He gave a small wave, and Kieran''s attention went back to the customer fishing through her purse.

    He held the door open for Thomas as he kept his eye on the register counter, watching as Lindsey talked the older woman through the card reader prompts, nodding along and commiserating about how every reader was different. How could everyone else stumble through the wrong buttons and laugh it off like it was nothing? Being forced to start over was embarrassing.

    "It''s just like the one I had when I was a little girl," the woman said as she watched Kieran place a creepy teddy bear into a paper sack.

    Kieran nodded with a smile. "They certainly had character back then. If you have a moment, I can check if the bent knee walker I have in the back is the one you''re after."

    "Are you sure? I won''t be keeping you open too long?"

    "It''s not a bother at all. I''m fairly certain the box is easily accessible." His smile dropped when he looked past the woman and caught sight of Thomas standing just behind Jack.

    "Hey, Daddy-O!" Thomas said with a jaunty wave.

    Jack winced and mouthed his apology. He forced out an awkward smile when the customer turned to look. He should have taken his chance to hide in the back when she wasn''t looking. Or behind a bookshelf.

    She looked between Thomas and Jack with a smile before turning back to Kieran. "Never you mind. I''ll get out of the way for your friends."

    A brief flash of panic crossed Kieran''s eyes. "You needn''t feel like you should. I have plenty of time to check my inventory."

    "No, no, no! I remember what it was like after a long day, and one of my friends popped in to surprise me. I''ll come back later."

    "I love popping in unexpectedly," Thomas said, his smile bright and containing none of the uncertainty Jack had witnessed outside. "Forgot to bring a coffee, though. Next time?"

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    "A friendly face is enough, I''m sure," she said, oblivious to the glare being sent over her head. She gently collected her paper bag and nodded to Kieran. "Thank you again. I would appreciate it if you held the Minty for me if you come across her. I may still be interested even if it''s not her. My name is Ellie. Ellie Wilson. I''ll send my husband for her if I can''t make it before the new year."

    "I''ll be certain to set her aside for you, Mrs. Wilson. Good day."

    "Have a nice day! Thanks for stopping in!" Thomas said as he watched the woman leave. The door shut, and he turned back to face Kieran. His grin lost a little of its shine under Kieran''s scrutiny.

    Kieran''s eyes flicked down and narrowed in suspicion at the suitcase that sat innocently beside Thomas. "I do hope there''s only clothing in there."

    Thomas ignored Kieran in favor of Lindsey. "Trainwreck! I love what you''ve done to your ribs! They''re on the inside. Good on you."

    "Thanks! I even have all my fingers," Lindsey said, happily splaying out her hands. She approached him and slowly circled around, looking him over. "You feel so weird when you manifest."

    Jack took the moment of distraction to duck away from Thomas and move to Kieran''s side. He felt marginally safer, but still completely out of place. He was surrounded by supernatural creatures, and he fell somewhere on the spectrum as well. The thought was as unsettling as it was comforting.

    "Oh, that''s the tether," Thomas replied, gesturing to his chest. "Met a medium once, and she said it''s for when it''s not your time." He laughed to himself. "Lady had no idea¡­"

    The anxious dip in Jack''s stomach came back with a vengeance. When was it ever a vampire''s time? Decapitation and cremation seemed like a lot of effort to make sure death would stick. And what about suicidal vampires? Did they ask someone to help them? Seek out a vampire hunter? Get weird about things when they got drunk?

    Fingers were in his hair, and Jack flinched. He looked up at Kieran and swallowed as he forced his shoulders to untense. "Uh, he says he''s sober," he said quietly, grateful for the distraction.

    If he didn''t think about Kieran''s casual flippancy with depression, then he wouldn''t have to dwell on his own. He thought he was doing better. His friends had said as much, so it had to mean something.

    Kieran nodded. "Lindsey, if you would be so kind as to lock the door?" He shifted his gaze back to Thomas. "I suppose we should have this discussion upstairs."

    "Or we could have it here," Thomas offered. "With all the escape routes in plain sight."

    "I have windows," Kieran replied with a pointed smile.

 Alley Cat

    Once up in Kieran''s apartment, Jack hurried to collect his blanket stash beside the couch and stuff it a little more out of view. It looked worse sitting on the floor, so he pushed it entirely under the couch. Even if Thomas had the ability to spy on the apartment, Jack didn''t feel the need to show off how messy he was. He then claimed his corner of the couch, still uncertain on whether or not he should stick around. He settled in, pressing his back against the corner and watched as Kieran waited by the door.

    Thomas crossed the threshold, and all the uncertainty and reluctance was back in his hunched shoulders and worried brows. "Did I go too far?" he quietly asked as he dropped his suitcase in the middle of the floor. He glanced at Jack then back to Kieran before staring at his feet.

    Kieran sighed as he let the door fall shut. He looked to Jack in question, and received a small shrug in response. "Why did you feel the need to accost him?" he asked, gesturing to Jack.

    Accosted was a stronger word than Jack would have used. He slouched down and avoided Thomas''s eyes. He hadn''t really felt accosted after the fact. Sure, he''d been weirded out, but it hadn''t been that bad. He knew he should feel differently about the experience, but, with everything he''d been through, it barely registered. The inconvenience of the aftermath was worse than the actual kidnapping.

    "Can you blame me? He was a distraction from your current problems," Thomas said defensively. He turned to Jack and shrugged. "You are. You smell great, and you''re cute."

    Jack gave Thomas a queasy frown. He was okay with Kieran giving such compliments, but with anyone else it carried a bit of a threat. "Thanks?"

    "You''d have an easy life as someone''s pet," Thomas added. His face went blank when Kieran shot him a dirty look. "Just saying'', not encouraging anything."

    Jack''s chest tightened at the thought. A pet. Possibly pampered, but most likely locked up and hidden away, slowly being drained of his will to escape. He swallowed and took a trembling breath, focusing on the image of a blackened corpse. He looked up in time to find Kieran swiftly approaching. His eyes slid to Thomas, glad to find a look of guilty discomfort.

    "Yeah, same," Thomas quietly agreed. He rubbed at the back of his neck, watching as Kieran sat beside Jack. He took a few steps closer, still giving the couch a wide berth. "I''m the alley cat that got fed. Kieran''s nice like that," he said, his voice picking up in pace. "Even left the door open, so I could come and go as I pleased. Lotsa sires like to keep a close eye on their kids, so they don''t go cattin'' around. ''Specially ones like me."

    "There was no need," Kieran said. He lightly stroked Jack''s cheek before turning his attention back to Thomas. "You kept returning, and I have no reputation to uphold. Even when I don''t tell you where I''ve relocated, you still manage to turn up."

    Thomas''s scoff echoed through the room. "Yeah, right. You''re just like me. That stuffy shit ain''t you. Dunno why you ever tried to fit in with that lot," he said as he drew a little closer to the couch. He looked at Jack as he pointed accusingly at Kieran. "Pops thinks he''s cultured. You shoulda seen him during some of the raids way back when."

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    "Raids?" Jack glanced at Kieran, hoping for a little more explanation. An annoyed sigh was his answer. Something historical, obviously. Something to do with Prohibition was probably his best bet, given what he''d already learned of Kieran and Thomas. A pair of moonshiners, making bank on the lushes of the world.

    "Yeah, damn cops ruining all the fun," Thomas replied. He dropped into the other end of the couch, looking like he was ready to spring right off at a moment''s notice. "Shoulda stayed abroad, but there was other issues with that."

    Jack grinned at Kieran. "So you can take the farmboy outta the farm, but you can''t take the farm outta the farmboy?" Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Thomas''s shoulders losing their tightness.

    Kieran looked between the pair of matching grins. He let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I''m not¡­ I own land. As do you," he said, giving Thomas a pointed look that lost most of its venom as Jack took his hand and lightly stroked his fingers.

    "That belongs to my mother. When she crawls her way outta hell, I''ll gladly give it back to her," Thomas said. His eyes drifted down to where Jack held Kieran''s hand. "I should probably check on her grave. Make sure I haven''t vandalized it."

    It made for a good excuse to leave, but Jack still had so many questions. He was open to the idea of Thomas popping in and out of the shop. Preferably while in a solid state of existence, but he''d take what he could get. He gave Kieran''s hand a tight squeeze. "You, uh¡­ That doesn''t take too long, right?"

    "I still pay for its upkeep," Kieran said quietly.

    Thomas''s eyes flicked up in uncertainty. "She doesn''t deserve it. That should be on me."

    "Your allowance pays for it."

    "So I''m not being kicked to the curb?" Thomas asked, tightly wrenching one hand with the other.

    "Can I trust you not to interfere in my affairs?" Kieran countered with a raised brow.

    Thomas deflated under the stare and looked away. "How was I supposed to know you were serious?" He crossed his arms and hunched forward. "Kid looks like a cleaned up street urchin. This ain''t his normal fashion. He doesn''t wear it right. I can tell you''re buying his wardrobe."

    "W-wait. Nope!" Jack sat up and leaned over Kieran. "No, this is¡­ I bought it." Technically, Candace bought it and used his credit card. "Um, with my friend''s help. I got talked into a makeover to, uh¡­ Y''know? Feel good about myself. It was a post-breakup thing. It didn''t work."

    The makeover didn''t do what had been intended, and neither did the breakup. Even if both did help him out in the long run, it didn''t work as he''d been expecting it to.

    "You look nice, my sweet," Kieran said softly, kissing the shell of Jack''s ear.

    Thomas''s shoulders slumped as he slouched. "I fucked up bad. Sorry."

    "No more than usual," Kieran replied with a light sigh.

    Thomas''s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. "I want you happy. You were there for me when I needed it the most, and¡­ You deserve to be happy."

    Kieran looked at Jack and smiled. "I''m getting there."

 Hacker

    Thomas stood and stretched. "I guess I''ll be on my way," he said quietly. He turned back to Kieran. "Unless you have a spare couch? A spare basement? A job?"

    "A job?" Kieran repeated with a doubtful frown. He spared Jack a quick glance.

    Jack shrugged. Who Kieran hired wasn''t up to him, but it would be nice to know where Thomas was, so he could pick his brain. And fight against the temptation Thomas presented. He gave Kieran a small smile of encouragement.

    Kieran turned his attention back to Thomas and scowled. "And I expect you''ll work for free?"

    "In exchange for room and board?" Thomas said. He looked at the floor as Kieran''s brows furrowed deeper.

    "Pity. I''m fresh out of room."

    Jack gnawed at the inside of his cheek and made a decision. "You can use my apartment," he said, lightly tapping Kieran''s arm as he watched Thomas. It was impulsive, but he couldn''t lose access to the only person he knew with blood like his own. And if Kieran''s refusal to entertain Thomas''s request was solely to protect Jack, then he needed everyone aware that he didn''t need that sort of protection.

    "A whole apartment?" Thomas asked. He looked Jack over, assessing. "Whatcha want? Name your poison, kiddo."

    "Don''t offer that," Jack said, quickly shaking his head. He grabbed his bag from the coffee table and dug through it. He pulled out his keyring and started working on freeing his apartment key. "Don''t offer anything. Uh, just make a copy for me. Sam''ll ask questions if I don''t have my key. I''m flaky, but I usually have my keys."

    He looked over in time to catch Kieran''s raised brow, and embarrassment flooded him. He wasn''t going to rise to the bait. He worked the key free and held it out to Thomas.

    Thomas looked from Jack to Kieran and back as he cautiously approached. "I promise not to have any uninvited guests, and I won''t make a mess," he said. He took the key and stared at it for a moment before pocketing it.

    "It''s a little late for the mess," Jack quietly admitted. "I mean, it''s not as bad as it was, but it''s pretty bad."

    "I will clean up!" Thomas said with a wide grin. He rocked back and forth on his heels. "I''m good at cleaning up for people I like. Been staying with junkies for now, so this will be one hell of a step up."

    Having his apartment cleaned up for free and without having to deal with questioning and judgmental side-eyes was going to be nice. Too bad it was for all the wrong reasons. He may as well warn Thomas that there might be a warrant out for his arrest. Or, at the very least, one particular officer with his eye out for a well-dressed redhead. "Yeah, uh, this is kinda an apology for filing a police report on you."

    Thomas laughed as he winked at Jack. "Always a risk. Like I''ve never talked my way out of jail. Just gotta get out before someone notices that your fingerprints weren''t filed. Otherwise, you gotta have at least one smooth-talker on your side when you go back to get it all wiped," he said, nodding his head to Kieran. "People don''t like it when you have the same prints as a corpse. I''ve been shivved three whole times."

    He said it like it was an accomplishment.

    Jack grimaced at the reminder. "Funny. That''s how my ex ended up getting outta prison. He''s dead now. Like, crispy dead." Dead and gone, and he was free. Not from vampires, but free to make some sort of an attempt to live his life and heal.

    "Yeah, we might need a better system," Thomas said as he stared up at the ceiling. "Maybe get a hacker on our side. Like in the movies."

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    "I don''t think that''s how it works." Not in Jack''s experience. He was a small fish in a small pond, and even that was years ago.

    He frowned as he could recall every not-so-legit''s contact information with perfect clarity. He''d even kept in touch with a few. There was one that was proud of him for going legit. It wasn''t fair that he could remember them but not his own parents. "Fucking asshole and his fucking priorities," he said in quiet bitterness.

    Kieran leaned in close and lightly stroked Jack''s back. "My sweet?"

    Jack shook his head. "It''s¡­ I''ll tell you later," he promised.

    He looked up at Thomas, ready to dash any and all hacker dreams. "It''s not a big ''I''m in'' moment. It''s more like ''Wow, I can''t believe he really clicked that link,'' and then you watch solitaire for a solid hour. Or cat videos. Lots and lots of cat videos." Jack paused and looked at Kieran, giving him a small shrug. "That''s how I know he''s on one of those SVU type cases. I can''t watch those shows."

    "I don''t like them either," Kieran said softly and kissed Jack''s cheek. "I''ll make sure Lindsey doesn''t watch them when you''re around."

    Jack nodded, grateful for the promise.

    Thomas cleared his throat and leaned forward, raising his brows at Kieran. "So about that job? It''ll look good for me when I get sent to rehab. They like it when you have something lined up. And maybe let you out quicker for being responsible. If I get sent. You don''t have to send me. I''m clean!"

    "As if you wouldn''t charm your way out," Kieran said with a harsh scoff. "Why should I hire you?"

    "I''m bored,"Thomas said with an easy shrug. "But, uh¡­ I''m personable. I''m great with people, and my fake smile is miles ahead of yours."

    Kieran narrowed his eyes as he stood. He stared down at Thomas. "Oh? I''m told my smile is rather charming."

    "No, that''s the accent," Thomas said with a dismissive wave. "People love BritBox."

    "I''m hardly the only person here with a notable accent."

    "About that¡­"

    Jack''s phone pinged, and he reluctantly pulled his attention away to check the text.

    Since you''re missing ???????????? don''t forget ???????????????????? Mom''s hoping you''ll be there ????

    ill think abt it

    He received a series of thumbs up emojis. Too many. Way too many to trust. What did Sam have in mind? What strings had been pulled? Should he be worried? He had Kieran as an excuse to stay home. Home with Kieran. In Kieran''s home. Even if Sam and Candy had a fireplace that was perfect for taking pictures in front of.

    He looked over to see Kieran wearing a sharp grin. He had missed something. "What? What''s going on?"

    Kieran''s grin slipped. "No, I really shouldn''t sabotage what progress I''ve made with Colette."

    "I''ll leave her alone and only bug Sweet Widdle Augustin. I promise." Thomas frowned to himself as he looked out the window then pursed his lips in thought. "I''ll have to familiarize myself with the house anyway, so that''ll take some time. Oh, and Beau. I need to mess with Beau. I''ll just move his shit around."

    Jack tucked his phone away. "Are we talking about a haunting?"

    "A little one," Thomas said, pinching his fingers together. "Temporary. It''ll be fun and make for great memories." He rolled his eyes as Kieran crossed his arms. "I can always look in the phonebook. Online. Wherever they put that stuff now. It can''t be that hard to find them."

    Jack gave Kirean a fleeting glance before leaning his elbows on his knees. "I have her address."

    Kieran sighed and looked down at Jack in worry. "My sweet Jack, if he gets found out¡ª"

    "I''ll take the heat. Promise," Jack quickly said. "I want Augie to¡­ Well, not suffer, but¡­ Y''know? Think things through a little more?"

    "I like him," Thomas said, giving Kieran a smile and an expectant look.

    Kieran stared silently for a moment before slowly closing his eyes. "No. And I would appreciate it if you did not help."

    Jack looked between the two. What was he missing this time? An offer to hang out? That would be nice.

    Immortality?

    Maybe not as nice. How could he tell either vampire that the thought had already crossed his mind, but he wanted a few years to figure himself out and find out if he and Kieran were going to be solid. He was too fucked up to deal with an eternity of writing notes to himself.

 Telephone

    By some miracle, Jack managed to drag himself out of bed before nine. He eyed the bed linens sitting next to the couch as he riffled through his clothing. He should just get over it, throw them in the laundry room, and stop pretending. It was his second morning of waking up in Kieran''s bed, having crawled into it some time past midnight. He was already looking forward to tomorrow morning and being half awake for a kiss on the forehead.

    He finished getting ready as he mulled over the fact that he was properly moving in. His normal anxiety and panic was lined with a warm feeling of belonging that only made it worse. Thankfully, his shopping bag of Christmas presents held a different sort of anxiety to distract him.

    He poked around the apartment for a few more minutes, hoping to find a stash of wrapping paper, but he came up empty. He resorted to wrapping Tara''s gifts in discarded printer paper. They weren''t pretty, but he''d made the effort to draw some Christmas trees and Santa heads with a red Sharpie on the paper.

    He tossed the pair of gifts into the shopping bag that held the rest of his presents, and went about grabbing everything he needed to survive the outside world. As he headed down the haunted murder stairs, he couldn''t keep his eyes from darting over every corner and step.

    No signs of Lindsey nor Thomas. No unexpected drafts. No whispers. He should be safe.

    In the shop, he found Kieran mounting an old wooden rotary phone on the wall behind the register. He shivered as a soft breeze brushed his ear and braced himself.

    "He thinks he''s being mean, but I can put the receiver on top," Lindsey said from beside Jack. "Unless that''s the plan? There''s a table under it, but that''s more awkward. On top makes it look like they''re on hold."

    He looked over to find a dark shadow standing next to him and quickly looked away. It was too early to be staring at strange apparitions his eyes could barely focus on. "What happens if he sells it? Do you get a princess phone?" he asked. A pastel princess phone would fit Lindsey''s style perfectly. Or a nice, chunky cordless.

    "I dunno. I just know I get to answer. All of it," she said, her wide grin evident in her voice. "The land line''s what he''s gonna give Colette to give everyone else. Augie called yesterday, so he had me update the website with it, too."

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    Jack would have offered to do it, and maybe fix a few other things while he was at it, but he couldn''t really bring himself to steal the little joys in Lindsey''s afterlife. "Have fun with your phone?"

    "Thanks! I will. Gonna go flip the sign and welcome the day. Catch ya'' later," she said as she dissipated.

    Jack hurried to Kieran''s side just in time to see the sour look directed at the phone''s receiver. "Not working?"

    "Worse. A perfectly clear dial tone." Kieran replaced the receiver with an annoyed sigh. "This is Lindsey''s phone. If, by chance, you feel obligated to answer it, you work here, and your name is not Jack."

    "Okay? Why am I Crappy Kyle again?" Jack didn''t think it would be an issue. He had no compulsion to answer ringing phones that weren''t his own. He didn''t have Missy''s experience of being bogged down by customers while the phone rang. He eyed the phone with a wariness he saved for the mice living in his apartment''s laundry room. He would avoid the phone for now and not nurture any need to answer it. He had enough things to cringe away from; he didn''t need to add other people''s phones to the list.

    "I''ve been welcomed back into the fold," Kieran said with a bitter smile. He leaned back against the counter, glaring at the phone. "The fewer reasons others have to contact me, the better."

    That caught Jack''s attention. He was already something of a reason for others to intrude on Kieran''s life. Somehow, Kieran was under the impression it would get worse. "I''d be a reason?" he quietly asked.

    Kieran nodded and grimaced as the chimes on the door rang. "Few will try anything."

    "Like Museum Snake Guy? Like, they''re gonna think I''m some sorta weird little freak and feel sorry for me?"

    "I think he feels sorry for everyone and their decisions. He''s much older than I, so he possibly sees us as small children mucking about in the creek and getting sick for it when warned not to." Kieran shook his head and lightly touched Jack''s shoulder.

    "Right. As long as no one''s coming for me and my neck?"

    "Doubtful. Even with Colette''s acceptance, my reputation should still be enough of a deterrent."

    Jack let out a soft sigh of relief. "That''s good. Well, in a good for me way, and a¡­ Good? Just good." He gave Kieran a shrug in response to the amused look he received. "I''m gonna go meet up with Tara and give her her present. And bum some wrapping paper off her. And maybe actually wrapping things."

    "Have fun, sweet thing," Kieran said. He kissed Jack lightly and dipped back in for a quick and thorough kiss. "I''ll see you later. I may close up shop early, so you might want to try the back first."

    Jack nodded through his blush and headed on his way.

 Chew Toy

    On his way to Tara''s house, Jack had managed to complete his dailies for the stupid fairy game and gain a level. The gifted month of VIP status from Tara certainly helped, and he found himself wondering if five bucks a month would be worth it for being able to skip waiting for his little avatar to clean her mushroom for five minutes.

    He reached Tara''s porch, and he grimaced at the new sign that read Beware of Cute Puppy. In his distraction, the door opened to reveal Tara. She''d been waiting for him like some sort of Christmas harbinger of doom.

    "Candy thinks if you go to the New Year''s party, you''ll get a kick out of it," she said by way of greeting. She stepped aside as Jack entered and grinned at his hunched shoulders.

    "I''m not going," he replied as he made his way to the couch. He set his shopping bag on the coffee table and pulled out Tara''s first gift. Hidden within its paper, it was oblong and crinkled.

    "Just pop in for a little appearance." She dropped down next to Jack and eyed the bag. "A quick drink. Show off the boyfriend and rub him in Sam''s face."

    "I don''t¡­ I don''t really wanna go." He wouldn''t be wanted there anyway. Everyone was just being polite. Polite and pestering. Because that''s what people did when they didn''t want you there. He sighed and pulled out his phone, setting the gift on the table and gesturing to it.

    "Asking Dracula if he wants to go?" Tara asked. She picked up her mystery object and gave it a few shakes as she turned it between her hands.

    "No, just making a note for my memory bullshit," Jack replied past the mounting resentment. He hoped feeling bitter was a good sign. It was better than feeling lost.

    "What the fuck, asshole?!"

    He''d been expecting the punch, but he wasn''t prepared for it to land right over where he''d been stabbed. "God, fucking¡ªOw!" He gingerly rubbed at his arm.

    Tara winced away with a look of guilt. "Right. Sorry. But you earned that," she said, shaking the bright pink dog bone in Jack''s face.

    "Yeah, I know." A little of the tightness in his chest eased as watched Tara examine the chew toy with an amused smile. "Is now a bad time to ask for wrapping paper?"

    "Getting everything out before Christmas?"

    "I have two days, so¡­ I guess?" It would be one of the few years where he wasn''t late in getting things to everyone.

    Tara looked up from the toy. "Today. I don''t have classes again until after the New Year. Why do you think I''m home?"

    "Today''s Monday? I thought it was Sunday!" He didn''t have a real job, and Kieran''s shop worked on a flexible schedule. How was he supposed to keep track of what day it was? Could he blame all the local stores having weird holiday hours? He was supposed to have one more day. Just one more.

    "Hey. It''s all good," Tara said. She leaned in and soothingly rubbed at Jack''s shoulders. "You''re doing way better than that one year where you were off by two weeks."

    Jack couldn''t remember what Tara was talking about, but he didn''t doubt her. He stared at the bag of presents sitting on Tara''s coffee table. Even if he was doing better, he had still been so far gone that he''d lost a good chunk of his life.

    "I''ll drop presents off for you," Tara said softly as she gave him a side hug. "I''m swinging by Candy''s tonight on my way to Jay''s. That''ll be one less thing on your plate. Better?"

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    "Thanks. Crap. Um¡­" He wasn''t too broken up over dropping off presents late. Anymore, that was par for the course. No, he was supposed to have one more day to mull over any bad ideas floating through his fucked up head.

    "Tell me who gets what, and I''ll wrap everything up for you," she said, reaching under the couch and pulling out a roll of wrapping paper.

    Jack recognized the roll of paper from the past two years. As well as from one birthday. It looked like the roll of generic pine trees and snowflakes was finally reaching the end of its life. "Candy gets the dragon, Sam gets the cat, and Kieran gets the eReader."

    "Splurging on the first holiday. You''re so hopeful!" Tara said as she pulled a glittering dragon from the shopping bag. "Damn. She''s gonna love this. Gonna blow my shitty deck out of the water."

    "It didn''t cost that much." He watched, feeling a little useless, as Tara looked around under her couch and pulled out a couple broken down boxes. "Er, Kieran''s. Candy''s was getting up there."

    Tara nodded along as she picked a box and set about wrapping the whole thing up. She worked quickly, and pushed the finished product in front of Jack along with a small bag of bows and gift tags.

    "Was¡­ Was I supposed to stick with a smaller budget?" Jack asked as he looked through the bows. None of them seemed to do Tara''s wrapping abilities justice.

    "I''m teasing." She pulled out a little stuffed orange tabby cat dressed up as a pig from the bag. "Where the fuck did you find this? It''s perfect!"

    "Rick''s, surprisingly. Made shopping a hell of a lot easier. They have a whole cat and meme section."

    Tara looked at him in betrayal. "You never told me that!"

    "I never needed anything from that part?" He reached into the shopping bag and pulled out his other gift for Tara. He looked from his shoddy wrap job to another perfectly wrapped box. How was he so incapable of wrapping up a gift card? It was flat. Maybe he shouldn''t have bothered hiding the envelope''s branding with printer paper. Tara already knew the sporting store was near his apartment. "Also, this is for you, too. To make up for the chew toy."

    "Thanks." Tara happily accepted the small present and pointed it at the chew toy. "But you do know that thing''s going in my mouth later."

    "Better your mouth than other parts."

    "Don''t go through people''s drawers if you don''t wanna find the good stuff."

    "A bathroom sink isn''t¡ª"

    "Oh, right! Candy went through my drawers. But still. I live alone, and I ain''t cleaning up for you." She ripped off the paper and popped open the envelope. She stared at it for a moment before looking at Jack with furrowed brows. "Okay, so this might be too much. I mean, thanks and all, but five hundred? Really? This isn''t a pity present, is it?"

    Jack shrank into himself. "You''re my best friend, and I have all these notes that I can afford it? I wanted to get you something nice for once. That I know you''d like."

    "I like anything you get me," she said softly as she pulled Jack into a tight hug.

    "Can I have an extra sticky bow?" he asked once he was released.

    "Sure. And if you put it on your dick tomorrow night, I''ll give you fifty bucks."

    "No. God, no," Jack muttered as he shifted through the bows, settling on a large green one.

    "Makes a great last minute gift," Tara said, pulling Kieran''s gift out of the bag. "Don''t exactly like my tits being sucked, but guys love doin'' it, and they get a kick outta pasties and shit."

    Jack pulled his phone back out and pressed the grumpy pig. He then set the call to speaker, giving Tara a disgusted sneer.

    "Fairchild."

    "Hi. Yes. I''d like to report a harassment," Jack said.

    She stuck her chest out and proudly framed her breasts with her hands. "Jack''s being sexist. I need to report sexism!"

    "I''ll accept all reports at the New Year''s party," Sam replied.

    "Who''s coming?" Candy yelled out in the background.

    "Jack, maybe," Sam replied.

    "I''ll make Tiramisu!" Candy said, her voice much closer and excited.

    "I''m not¡­ I''ll think about it." Jack sighed as Tara stared him down with a knowing grin. He was doing bad enough with knowing what day it was, so it wouldn''t matter anyway.

 Tree

    It was early evening by the time Jack made it back. The lights were out in the shop, and he hurried along to the alley, already pulling out his keys. Skirting around the parked cars lining the alley, Jack made his way to the back entrance of Kieran''s shop. He passed an open door and flinched away at a loud bark of laughter. It sounded like the new salon was throwing a little Christmas party, and it was in full swing.

    Jack pulled his attention away from the music to sift through the keys on his keyring. His stomach lurched at the missing spot for his apartment key.  He closed his eyes and sighed, reminding himself that he was loaning out his apartment. He hoped Thomas would get a spare to him quickly, so he wouldn''t have to explain the situation to Sam. Housing his kidnapper would definitely get him committed, no matter how he spun the narrative.

    Inside the backroom, he stamped the slush and grit from his shoes onto the mat and looked around, half-expecting to find Lindsey ready to jump him. He waited a moment, eyes darting around as he hoped to catch her in the act. The only thing that caught his eye was a locket hanging on a cuckoo clock in the corner. A locket that he was pretty sure Linsdey was attached to.

    He carefully edged away and up the stairs. Jack wasn''t sure how ghosts and haunted objects worked, and he wasn''t too keen on finding out. He let out a breath at the top of the stairs, wondering if Kieran had any surprises in store.

    A vacuum was running on the other side of the door. Nothing too suspicious, but it still had Jack cautiously poking his head inside before entering.

    He was greeted by a large tree sitting in the middle of the room beside the couch. He watched as Kieran vacuumed up stray needles. A living, and now dying, tree seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

    Kieran''s irritated frown said he felt the same way. He glanced up and smiled helplessly.

    Jack set his bag on the floor and stripped off his coat, waiting for Kieran to finish. "You got us a tree?"

    "Thomas brought it," Kieran said, shaking his head. He unplugged the vacuum and sighed heavily at its dirt compartment. "I did not agree to this fire hazard, but I won''t deny you the tradition of decorating one. I found a box of old ornaments that didn''t make it to stock in time. We''ll make do with a bedsheet for a tree skirt."

    "Okay?" Jack looked from Kieran to the tree and the floor beneath it. A tree skirt would probably be easier to clean up than just the floor. "And Tommy''s not here to help decorate?"

    "I''m certain he''ll make an appearance tomorrow. He mentioned forgetting to bring presents."

    What sort of presents would a vampiric druggie bring? He knew what he wanted dibs on. He hoped whatever Thomas had in mind was all legal or, in his mind, legal-adjacent. "If he gives you what looks like paper with psychedelic colors on it, I''m gonna be obligated to turn that into Sam."

    "I''ll do it myself. My gift to him is not calling in an anonymous tip for the moment."

    "That''s nice of you?"

    Kieran shrugged and moved around the tree to sit on the couch. He pulled open a flap on the box and stared at its contents. "I''ve made an appointment for him at a rehab clinic," he said quietly. "I''ll be paying for it. I have yet to tell him."

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    "You''re really going through with it?" Jack sat between Kieran and the tree, watching as Kieran pulled out smaller boxes and crumpled up bits of newspaper. There was a fairly large part of him that was eager to start up a tradition of last minute decorating.

    "He reeked of artificial cherries," Kieran complained, handing an old box to Jack. "I suppose it''s a step in the right direction, but there was also a hint of tequila on his breath. Not as much as I''d been expecting, so there may yet be hope for him."

    Jack carefully opened the small box, afraid that the paper itself would deteriorate in his hands. Individually wrapped ornaments sat nestled between tissue paper, and he plucked one the little bundles out, hoping he wasn''t about to break something. He had to remind himself that Kieran wouldn''t give him something that was irreplaceable or that really mattered. "I can''t remember the last time I decorated a tree. Like, literally. I''d say we never celebrated, but Tara has pictures."

    "Perhaps you''ll remember something as you go along?"

    Unwrapping the ornament he held, his fears were swept aside by the fact that it was made of wood. It looked like a child sitting on a sled with a tiny red cotton scarf around its neck, and its paint was a little chipped. He could remember hanging a skier on a branch. "We had wood ones like this," he said, setting the ornament back in the box and pulling out his phone. "They used to be grandma''s. We also had a spinny wood thing with candles."

    "Oh? Did you celebrate St. Nicholas Day?" Kieran asked. He began unwrapping some of the balls of newspaper, revealing a few mid-century modern ornaments.

    Jack paused in his notetaking to look at Kieran in confusion. "I don''t know what that is."

    "Did you ever receive small presents in your shoes?"

    He had vivid memories of putting his shoes out on the porch at night and finding candy and weird little toys in them in the morning. He''d thought he was making it up and never bothered to investigate further. "Wait, that''s a thing? That''s not just my fucked up memory?"

    "It''s a lovely little tradition. If you''d like, we could go to a Christkindlmarket next year," Kieran replied with a soft smile. "They run the risk of being crowded, but it may help unlock more memories."

    "I don''t think Portswain has one." Jack''s shoulders slumped in disappointment. It would have been a good idea.

    "We could go anywhere that has one."

    Anywhere. Anywhere that wasn''t Portswain. He couldn''t leave. He had to stay put. He had to wait.

    Jack swallowed and stared at his phone, his thumbs hovering over the screen. "I''m fine staying here," he said, voice tight. "Maybe just some pictures will help? I''ll do that."

    "My sweet?"

    Jack flinched as Kieran lightly touched his shoulder. "Sorry. Um¡­ Something funny! Y''know how sometimes you find a really good gag gift that you know is gonna get your ass beat, but it''s too good to pass up?"

    Kieran hummed in thought as a smile slowly formed. "Yes. Although, it was less of a gag gift and more of a ''you cannot prove it'' sort of gift. Prohibition had its moments."

    Moments that Jack wanted to learn more about. Moments that Thomas would most likely happily spill. "Yeah, so Tara hit my bad arm," he said as he rubbed at his soon-to-be bruise. He grinned at Kieran. "But it was so worth it."

    "What did you get her?"

    Admitting to the chew toy would bring up too many extra questions. "It''s related to a personal inside joke. Not embarrassing, but not exactly something that you share with everyone."

    "I won''t pry." Kieran stood and eyed the tree and the few ornaments he held. "Did you want to listen to Christmas music or a movie while we do this?"

    "Does Die Hard count?" Jack asked, making a final note on his phone. "My dad always said it''s a Christmas movie."

    "I will gladly agree with your father if it saves me from the normal choices," Kieran said with a laugh.

    "When we''re done with this, I, uh¡­ Next few chapters?" Jack asked, wishing his face wasn''t so hot.

    Kieran leaned in and kissed the angle of Jack''s jaw. "Of course, my sweet siren."

 Harassed

    Fingers gently traced their way through Jack''s hair as he drifted into wakefulness. He squinted across the bed at Kieran and wanted to go right back to sleep. He was too out of it to deal with Kieran sprawled on top of the sheets in dark slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. Too early, too pretty, too much temptation to stare and question everything about everyone''s intentions.

    "Good morning, my sweet," Kieran whispered as his fingers continued their journey from Jack''s hair down to his shoulder.

    "Yeah, good smile," Jack croaked in response. He cleared his throat and tried again, hoping his voice had been broken enough to hide the slip. "Morning. That."

    Kieran''s smile widened and he leaned in, kissing Jack''s temple. "I like your smile as well. Merry Christmas."

    Right, it was Christmas morning, and Jack still felt like it was either a day or a week away. He reached over to grab his phone from the nightstand, ready to make the few calls he was required to and get them out of the way. Avoid the onslaught of invites as well. He just knew they were only going to get worse the closer New Year''s crawled. Gentle, inviting, little coaxes of food and drinks he liked¡­

    His hand patted along the top of the nightstand, only finding the base of the lamp that sat there. He looked over in confusion then over the side of the bed. There was no sign of his phone. Panic clutched at his stomach and eased when Kieran''s hand grazed his shoulder.

    "You left your phone in the living room."

    He didn''t think he''d been that out of it last night. Sure, he''d been flustered from the next batch of chapters of Irish lilting cowboys, but bad enough to forget his phone? He sighed and turned to face Kieran. He shouldn''t ask Kieran to get it, but he was warm and the pillow was wonderfully inviting. He could lie back down and enjoy the comfort.

    "I found it under the couch when it rang. I took the liberty of answering it since you looked so peaceful when I got up," Kieran said as he sat up. He wasn''t acting particularly gleeful, and his tone was neutral enough.

    But there was still something there that Jack didn''t trust.

    He let out a frustrated growl and dropped back onto the bed. "Who got harassed?"

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    "No one. Detective Fairchild will be expecting a call when you''re ready. Or, if you''d like," Kieran said as he leaned down on one elbow to hover over Jack, "we can continue our book and see how Thorpe Stedmen is getting on."

    That sounded like a lot more fun than calling Sam. The fallout would be worse if Jack took too long, and Kieran''s casual offer said there was more to the phone call than a little Christmas greeting. "Fuck. Okay, I give up. What happened?"

    "Absolutely nothing," Kieran said with a smile.

    "Uh-huh." Jack poked the tip of Kierna''s nose, earning a little grin. "So he totally didn''t interrogate you about Thomas, and you totally didn''t play dumb?"

    Kieran''s smile dropped, and he leaned back against the headboard with a sigh. "Surprisingly close," he admitted. "However, I did not play dumb. I assured your friend that Thomas has a misplaced sense of protectiveness, and, unfortunately, you were caught in the crossfire."

    "And?"

    Kieran looked away and crossed his arms. "And I offered to forward the details of the rehab clinic."

    There was something performative about the way Kieran was acting. Anxiety and annoyance warred against each other as Jack picked up the courage to press further. "There''s something else."

    Kieran pursed his lips and closed his eyes for a moment before looking down at Jack. "He wasn''t particularly amused when I suggested he should consult his wife on whether or not to pursue the matter further."

    So Kieran had decided to kick a hornet''s nest and leave it for Jack to clean up. "Is he gonna yell at me? Do I need to apologize?"

    "I shouldn''t think so. I was perfectly cordial."

    Kieran''s defensiveness matched up with Jack''s suspicions, and he could imagine just how kind and patient Kieran was with Sam. Probably with a hint of holier-than-thou and unprovable smugness. He loved it and hated it.

    "For some reason, I think he''d rather have you being full on snarky with him," Jack said as he pulled himself upright. Why the hell did Sam and Kieran have to rub each other in all the wrong ways? Not that Jack had ever helped matters with his vagaries over his breakup and interactions.

    "Which makes it all the more satisfying when I''m the model of politeness and consideration."

    "Why are you trying to piss him off?" Jack whined, burying his face in his hands.

    "Who said anything about trying?" Kieran said with a shit-eating grin. "He hung up on me when I asked if the local shelter was in need of a donation. I even offered to make it in his name."

    Jack threw the covers off and got out of bed, giving Kieran his best withering glare. It didn''t do its job as Kieran''s grin stayed firmly in place. "I''m not making the bed."

    "It''s time the linens were cleaned anyway. I didn''t have the heart to undo your hard work yesterday," Kieran happily replied.

 Gift Basket

    "No, I did not rip him a new one," Sam said, a hint of annoyance lingering over the phone.

    "You hung up on him," Jack pointed out. He watched as Kieran headed for the murder stairs, frowning down at his phone. He wondered if he should move from the couch to the study. He didn''t need Sam on his case if Thomas showed up and was the sort to loudly announce his arrival. But he was comfortably sprawled out and in the middle of hunting down a movie to watch.

    "The conversation was done, and he was being annoying."

    Kieran being annoying had nothing to do with it. Jack had yet to be hung up on by Sam, and he knew how bad he got when he was spiraling. "Nothing to do with the donation, right?"

    The long pause on the other end answered his question. Jack flipped through various listings of Christmas movies as he waited for Sam''s denial. Were there any vampire Christmas movies out there? He didn''t want to risk putting Sam on speaker just so he could do a proper search.

    "Yeah, thank him for the thoughtful Christmas gift," Sam replied with forced cheer. "Yours is still here. I''m holding it hostage."

    At least it was a hostage Jack could live without. "I''m fine. I don''t need anything."

    "I''ll hang onto it until I see you next."

    "Don''t hold your breath. It''s gonna be¡­" He trailed off as he looked over when the door opened, revealing Thomas in all his Chicago gangster glory. He was thankful for the silence and nodded in acknowledgment of Thomas''s waving fingers. He was less thankful for the oversized gift basket that pushed Thomas further into the room. "Gotta go."

    "Not liking how you said that."

    Jack narrowed his eyes as Kieran brought the monstrosity to the coffee table. Red cellophane and gold ribbons enclosed a bouquet of roses and various shapes within a large wicker basket.

    "From Augustin," Kieran said, setting the basket on the coffee table. He sneered down at it as he straightened up. He glanced at the television then back at Jack with a raised brow and a smirk.

    The search for "vampire christmas" had been left in the search bar. Jack turned his attention back to his phone. He was allowed to look up weird things, and now he was even more determined to find something, anything, no matter how low its rating. "Nothing bad''s happening. Augie''s a dick, and he lived up to his promise and sent a gift basket. I should probably burn it."

    "Jack¡­" It was the same drawn out way Sam always said it when he felt Jack needed to do something about his personal safety.

    Jack groaned in frustration. "Not in a stalker way. In a stupid way. I think. I hope." Benoit wouldn''t let Augie turn stalker. He had to hold onto the hope that she was one of the good ones.

    "Very much so," Kieran said as he sat beside Jack. "I have matches, if you''d like."

    "We have a fireplace," Sam offered.

    "I''m not gonna burn it." The fumes would probably kill him if he tried. Jack didn''t know if any part of the basket was toxic, but he wasn''t about to push his luck. He turned the basket, taking a closer look at its contents. Hidden by the roses were boxes of fancy chocolates and a pair of wine bottles sitting in a nest of crinkled strips of paper. "This actually looks nice."

    "I guarantee he didn''t pick it out," Kieran said with a shake of his head. "He never was one for doing anything for himself."

    There was a painful bitterness to Kieran''s voice that Jack wasn''t ready for. He looked over in time to catch Thomas''s irritated glare being sent to the offending gift basket. Would it be insulting to pair the wine with shitty pizza and gloat about it? Would that help anyone besides himself?

    He could ask about it later. Right now, he wanted to get Kieran back into a good mood. He sent a silent apology to Sam and lightly tapped Kieran''s arm. "Sam says thanks for the donation in his name. He thinks it''s a thoughtful Christmas gift."

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    Kieran smiled as he leaned in. "Wonderful! I do know it''s an uphill battle for those in certain occupations to garner good will from the public."

    "Does your boyfriend wanna participate in some lineups?" Sam shot back.

    Jack sighed. He only had himself to blame. "Do you wanna be part of a lineup?"

    "Would it help? I wouldn''t want to cause any undo distraction for witnesses. I''m told I can be rather distracting," Kieran said, his lips brushing the corner of Jack''s mouth.

    A nervous giggle escaped before Jack could stop it.

    "Thought you weren''t into distractions," Sam said, concern filling his voice. "You okay over there?"

    "No, yes. I''m fine. I''m not being molested by my boyfriend. He''s trying to get a rise out of you, not me." Jack closed his eyes and cringed into himself as Sam''s and Kieran''s laughter swept over him. With that sort of reaction, he would never admit to enjoying the teasing and lead up to what Sam has been implying. "See, this is why I called Candy. Tell her I don''t wanna be handed off next time. Merry Christmas. Enjoy your presents."

    "Merry Christmas," Sam chimed back.

    Jack let out a sigh and slouched down with a miserable set to his shoulders. He looked at Kieran and gestured to his phone. "Why? Just why?"

    "Yeah, what''d that guy ever do to you?" Thomas asked, throwing his coat over the back of the couch. He sat down, and Jack inched closer to Kieran. Gracefully taking the hint, he moved to lean into the corner. A box wrapped in sparkling blue paper dangled from his hand as he lightly swung it back and forth when he settled in.

    "Detective Fairchild and myself have an understanding," Kieran said tightly.

    "Oh." Thomas lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, fuck ''im."

    No real questioning, just force loyalty. Thomas didn''t have the full story, nor did he need it. Sam was loyal, but he asked questions that Jack didn''t want the answers to.

    "Here. For you," Thomas said as he handed Jack a thick envelope. He leaned over and set the sparkling blue box on the coffee table in front of Kieran. "And you."

    Kieran picked up the box and weighed it in his hand before unwrapping it, sighing in dismay at the glitter being shed from the wrapping. He pulled out a canopic jar with a bird''s head. "This looks nothing like the one you found in Cairo," he said with a deep fondness.

    "It''s just like Old Fred. I painted it myself. Aged it, too," Thomas said as he pointed to the jar. "Even added that little chip on his brow."

    "It was the other brow. I''ll place it next to its predecessor," Kieran said with a soft smile. He set the jar on the table and sighed as he placed the box beside it. He attempted to dust the glitter from his hands.

    Jack popped open his envelope, wondering what the hell Thomas could have possibly thought would make a good gift for him. At least there was no glitter. He pulled out an owner''s manual for an oven. "What is¡­ What the fuck?"

    "I''ve elevated your home from upscale crack den to one paycheck away from homelessness," Thomas proudly declared. "I had something of a manic episode last night, and it''s spotless!"

    "Thanks. I guess." Jack didn''t feel particularly thankful. It was a weird gift, and he didn''t have anything for Thomas.

    "Oh. Uh¡­ I hope I didn''t toss out anything important. I put everything that didn''t look like trash in some boxes. Lots of jewel cases. I broke down the electronics boxes and stuck those in a box. You never know when you need a good box. And the nicer bottles," Thomas said quickly. His shoulders dropped, and he folded his hands between his knees. "I didn''t really throw out all that much."

    "Wow. Thanks. I mean it." It made Jack feel better that he wasn''t the only packrat-adjacent one out there. Even if the reasoning was different.

    "Your landlord thinks we''re cousins."

    And he was back to feeling weird. "Great."

    Thomas happily dismissed Jack''s discomfort and pointed to the TV. "Does it have to be vampires, or can we watch Gremlins? I''m also partial to White Christmas. Or any musical. I''m also open to slashers. There''s a giallo Christmas film if you''re interested."

    "A slasher might be a bit much," Jack said, his words feeling slow compared to Thomas''s quick speech. How long were they stuck with company, and how was he supposed to ask? He was used to spending Christmas alone. Would he get weird looks if he holed up in the study?

    "Musical it is! Local stations are boring right now, and I forgot to get one of those little doodads that let you watch things. I''ll leave you two alone after. Daytime is for family, nighttime is for lovers."

    "Okay?" Jack looked at Kieran. He was used to all the vampires he knew knowing about his lack of preferences, so Thomas being out of the loop was a curveball he wasn''t ready for. He hoped Thomas wasn''t the type to get gag gifts for couples.

    "Thank you for your consideration, Thomas," Kieran said before kissing Jack''s cheek. "He''ll catch on quick enough. Don''t fret my sweet," he whispered into Jack''s ear.

 Lucky Charms

    Wonderful silence was coming from the living room. Jack didn''t want to get his hopes up, just in case Thomas was only taking a bathroom break. He''d managed to slink away and hide halfway through the second movie. About ten minutes after hiding, he''d gotten a text from Kieran checking in on him.

    He was grateful that Kieran believed him when he''d said he was fine. No one was offended, he was allowed to hide, and Thomas got to get a nice distraction from needing a fix.

    He probably could have held on longer than he had if Thomas and Lindsey were able to shut up for five minutes. It was a mix of entertaining and annoying to listen to Thomas reminiscing about old 50s B-movies as Lindsey chimed in with her own opinions. But he couldn''t understand their need to do it while a movie was playing.

    He looked up from his laptop at the soft knock.

    Kieran opened the door and gave Jack a tired smile. "Thomas has left for the evening."

    "Just the evening?"

    "Lindsey has gone with him, and he''ll be bringing her back tomorrow."

    How a ghost could have a vibrant social life was beyond Jack. Envy poked at him, but the reminder that it took a lot more effort than he could manage quelled the feeling. He was happy for Lindsey.

    It was just him and Kieran for the rest of the night. He swallowed as another little tick was made in the column of why he should do something stupid. It was amazing how much braver he felt with the complete lack of audience.

    "I guess they''ll have fun together?" His face scrunched up at the thought that there would potentially be two ghosts haunting his apartment.

    "Would you like your Christmas present,"Kieran asked, "or would you prefer more time to yourself?"

    "Oh, yeah. Um, no. I mean, sure. I''m good," Jack said, pushing the chair away from the desk and getting up. He followed Kieran back to the living room. "All decompressed over here. It was just a lot. Nice? But a lot. Kinda nice to overhear in here, but I still feel kinda guilty for ditching."

    "Neither were bothered by your absence." Kieran bent down and picked up a small black box from under the tree. He picked a pine needle off the red ribbon wrapped around it.

    "Did they notice?" Jack asked, fighting a smile as he dropped onto the couch.

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    Kieran shook his head as he handed Jack the slim box. "Here, my sweet siren."

    "This better not be expensive," Jack muttered as he took the box and turned it in his hands. No sound came from the inside.

    "Not outrageously so. Just a little something for you to fidget with." Kieran took the seat beside Jack, leaning back against the corner.

    "Really?" Jack re-examined the box. It was a flat square, tied up with a pretty red ribbon. Both looked high end. "If it''s a fidget spinner or one of those popping things, I''m gonna have to reconsider your gift."

    Kieran''s smile gave nothing away.

    Jack tugged on the ribbon and opened the box, not sure what he should be expecting. He pulled out a piece of cottony cushion and blinked at the piece of jewelry sitting inside. It was a pretty charm bracelet with eight charms already attached. A silver heart with a red gemstone embedded in its center. A golden star. A horseshoe, a clover¡­ A jingle played at the back of Jack''s mind. Sure enough, a blue moon was the next charm, followed by a pot of gold, a rainbow, and a damned red balloon.

    He sent a half-hearted glare Kieran''s way. "You''re hilarious."

    Kieran''s smile widened into a toothy grin. "You don''t like it?"

    "I¡­ Yeah, it''s nice," Jack grudgingly admitted. He kept running his thumb over the different textures, falling back onto the raised enamel of the clover.

    "Lindsey insisted on these specific charms. She said you''d recognize the jingle."

    "She was right." It was strange to think that she was both older and younger than him. He balanced the bracelet over his left wrist and fastened the clasp. It rested over the scar circling his wrist, and a flash of doubt crept over him.

    He stamped the feeling down, insisting that the bracelet wasn''t a collar of some sort. It was a stupid in-joke that came with a higher price tag than cereal. He would see how long he could resist calling Benoit just to be sure.

    He reached under the couch and pulled out his own gift for Kieran. As he eyed the wrapping paper, it gave him the reassurance he needed. He''d been enough of a little shit with what he had loaded onto the e-reader.

    "My lovely, sweet Jack. You needn''t have bothered," Kieran said. His smile was bright and soft as he took the gift from Jack.

    "I dunno. You might hate it."

    "I highly doubt that," Kieran said as he unwrapped his gift. "A tablet?"

    "An e-reader. I already got it set up for you and uploaded a shit ton of public domain stuff. Y''know, like Dracula. A bunch of Weird Tales stuff. Just a bunch of stuff I found. To get you started. I kinda searched up ''vampire'' and ''Irish'' and went from there." Jack was especially proud of himself for not pirating any books on Kieran''s behalf.

    "Oh, my sweet, sweet siren." Kieran set the e-reader on the coffee table and pulled Jack into a hug, trailing kisses from the corner of his jaw to his lips.

    Jack squirmed away, blushing brightly. "There''s a part two."

 Part Two

    "There''s a part two."

    Kieran''s hand trailed over Jack''s elbow as he titled his head in curiosity. "Another gift?"

    "Yeah. Uh, I just gotta¡­ One sec." Jack reached back under the couch and grabbed the sticky bow Tara had given him. Its shiny green metallic surface taunted him.

    He hoped he wasn''t making a big mistake. Another one to add to his growing collection. If he woke up chained to the bed or locked up in a hidden mystery room, then he''d know for sure. Kieran was nothing like Farragut, he reminded himself. And if something did happen, then he had both vampires and werewolves on his side. It wasn''t the most reassuring thought floating through his head.

    "Okay. You can, uh, yeah," he trailed off as  he peeled the backing off the cheap bow. Breathing in deeply, he slapped it onto his neck. He turned to face Kieran and kept his eyes on his knees. He folded his hands together tightly to keep them from shaking too badly. "You can have a drink. We''ll try this."

    Silence answered him, and he waited for some sort of a sign. The silence stretched on, and he looked up, catching Kieran''s conflicted grimace that was barely covered by a hand.

    "Are you certain?" Kieran asked, his voice strained and just above a whisper.

    Was he? He looked back down at his hands and began picking at his hangnails. He wanted to do something nice for Kieran. Something that was more than just cleaning up after himself. Something with a hell of a lot more meaning behind it than a stupid little e-reader. "I''m getting everything outta this relationship and not really giving much back, and if all you want is a pint of blood once in a while, then I can do that."

    "That''s not true, and this isn''t ne¡ª"

    "It''s easier for me to commit to this than sex," Jack rushed to say. "Got it?"

    Kieran leaned back against the couch arm as he assessed Jack. "I believe others would find the reverse to be true."

    "I''m fucked up, in case you didn''t notice," Jack said with a laugh. He ran a hand through his hair, coming up short and huffing as he dropped his hand into his lap. "Everyone knows it, so don''t bother trying to make me feel better."

    "You, my sweet, lovely siren, are a temptation on a level I''ve never encountered before." Kieran reached up and lightly ran his knuckles over Jack''s cheek.

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    Jack leaned into the touch. "I wanna¡­ This is physically intimate on a level I''m willing to try with you," he said. Kieran''s fingers continued on into his hair and down the back of his neck. "Penetration and bodily fluids with other¡­things." He winced and looked up to meet Kieran''s eyes. He bit at his tongue as he waited a moment, holding Kieran''s stare.

    There was no cloyingly sweet fog wrapping around his thoughts. Just him and his overwhelming anxiety and the need to explain himself. If not to Kieran, then to himself. "Sorry. I keep making things weirder," he mumbled. He cleared his throat and started again. "I just¡­ I want¡­ I want more? Like intimacy on some sort of level that''s more than¡­ More than I''ve had in the past."

    His heart rate kicked up as Kieran gently held his hands and pulled him closer. He stared at Kieran''s chest as lips rushed his forehead. He was offering himself up and had yet to process what all that entailed. Would Kieran go straight for the neck? Make a long line of sweet and gentle kisses to his wrist? A nice little bite on the wrist, nestled right in there with the rest of his scars.

    "N-not the wrists," he choked out when Kieran kissed his jawline. "You can suck blood from my goddamned dick for all I care, just stay off the wrists. And my arms. And back." It didn''t leave a lot of areas for Kieran.

    Keiran pulled back and smiled at Jack with a raised brow. "Really."

    Jack''s words caught up to him. "No. Fine. I don''t want my dick in someone''s mouth. I tried it once, and it was weird and wet, and I didn''t like it. And then I tried again with someone else, and it was pretty much the same, and that''s how I found out I was the problem," he said, rambling through his nervousness. Tara''s insistence that his lack of desire wasn''t a real problem rattled around his head. "Not problem. Yeah. Sorry. I''d give you a go if I thought it might be different. But it''s probably better this way since it won''t ruin you for me. Not like that. I mean¡­ Yeah. No dick sucking of any kind."

    "Understandable. Oral''s not for everyone," Kieran said as he nodded.

    The tension in Jack''s shoulders eased. How the fuck did he manage to luck out with someone like Kieran? With what he''d been through, he''d definitely earned it. He threw the thought firmly at the feeling of not deserving any kindness or love. It still wasn''t the easiest fight in his head, but he was getting better at it.

    He swallowed and looked down at their clasped hands. "I guess this is gonna be the missionary position of blood sucking?"

    "That would actually be wrists. A neck is more intimate. More trusting. More, I suppose, romantic," Kieran said. He leaned in and kissed the bare side of Jack''s neck.

    A nervous giggle bubbled up from Jack''s chest. "So your favorite position?"

    "Ever the hopeful romantic, yes," Kieran whispered into Jack''s ear. He trailed kisses down along Jack''s neck and easily pulled away when Jack made a stilted shrug.

    Jack raised his eyes and caught the self-deprecating smile. "I''m into that. Romantic''s nice. Sorry. I just gotta get my head on straight here. We''re gonna¡­ We''re gonna do this. Tonight."

 Merry Christmas

    "My beautiful, sweet siren," Kieran whispered as he lightly cupped Jack''s face between his hands and gently kissed him. "T¨¢ mo chro¨ª istigh ionat."

    Jack giggled nervously and shied away. He pulled up short and grabbed at Kieran''s hands to keep them in place. "No, I like that. Really. Um¡­ Consider me foreplayed." He bared his neck. "Ignore me. Just¡­ go for it."

    Kieran raised a brow as he smiled. His eyes slowly trailed down to Jack''s neck.

    Maybe Jack wasn''t as ready as he thought. "Can I see your teeth first?"

    Kieran licked lips before baring his teeth. With a slow exhale, a pair of small slits in the gumline above his central and lateral incisors opened, and fangs descended. They were long, slim, and translucent.

    Jack swallowed, catching a flash of Farragut giving him a toothy and bloody grin. Kieran''s grimace gave off nothing but insecurity and regret. It was a nice change in pace, but it was still a freaky sight. He should say something nice to brighten the mood, but how would he go about complimenting teeth without it coming off like Little Red Riding Hood?

    "That looks so weird." It wasn''t the worst thing he could have said, and the look of regret was fading. He clutched at his neck as his skin itched in anticipation, the bow scratching against his palm. "What''s that feel like, anyway?" he asked, pointing at his own mouth and motioning up and down.

    The fangs withdrew, and Kieran ran his tongue over his teeth. "Like¡­fangs? I don''t remember what it was like to not have them."

    "Are they straws?" Jack asked, trying to wrap his head around the concept.

    "Partially hollow, yes. A...fun drinking game is to see what we can get through them." Kieran smiled and shrugged at Jack''s incredulous stare. "Carbonated drinks are interesting, to say the least."

    A bizarre drinking game that Jack had the potential of witnessing. He knew enough vampires that were friendly enough. And if Augie wanted out of his self-dug grave anytime soon, he''d probably be game. Thomas, being something of a kindred spirit, struck him as the type to jump at free booze. Would Benoit be interested?

    He shook the fantasy from his head and rubbed at his elbow in distraction. The bow was still on his neck and poking into his jaw. "Okay. Um, thanks. I''m ready now."

    He blushed as his words echoed in his ears. Was this how he acted when he was a virgin? He was right, it was intimacy on a whole other level. Even if he wasn''t inexperienced when it came to vampires, he still felt like it was his first time. His first time willingly and aware of his surroundings. He didn''t want to analyze the thought too closely. He''d rather liken the experience to a stray animal meeting kindness for the first time. His chest loosened at the thought. And just like with a stray, Kieran beside him, smiling patiently with his hand held out, waiting for Jack to make the first move.

    Jack took a slow, deep breath and placed his hand in Kieran''s.

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    "How would you like to do this?" Kieran asked as he pulled Jack closer. "Facing me? Against the wall? On my lap?"

    "Like reverse cowgirl or something? Sorry. Uh, normal?"

    "Perhaps propped against the corner of the couch. I will be somewhat sprawled across you, but I don''t wish to remind you too much of the first time I attempted a taste."

    Jack paused as he scooted into the corner and gave Kieran a half-hearted glare. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, fuck you. No, we''re still doing this. Couch sounds fine," he said, waving away Kieran''s guilt and uncertainty.

    "Would you feel more comfortable with a trial run?" Kieran offered.

    "I don''t understand," Jack eventually admitted after running a few scenarios through his head. "How can you trial run chomping on my neck?"

    "To give you an idea of how long it will be," Kieran replied. "I''ll even give you a little nip without fangs, so you know how it might feel."

    Jack nodded along. It seemed like a good idea. He didn''t think Kieran would use it as an excuse to get two bites in, but it was Christmas, so he wouldn''t get too mad if it happened. "Sounds weird, but okay."

    "It won''t hurt," Kieran promised, stroking Jack''s cheek.

    "Yeah. Okay." Jack sat still, his back and shoulders stiff as he waited for Kieran to close the distance between them.

    Kieran pulled the bow off and lovingly kissed the side of Jack''s neck several times before adding his tongue to the mix.

    Before long, Jack could no longer feel the kisses. It was disconcerting and disappointing. He could feel Kieran''s hair brushing against his cheek, but no sensation came from the side of his neck. He would have thought there would at least be a little bit of pressure or something.

    "This feels weird," he said, receiving a soft and amused huff in return. "Should I shut up?"

    "Whatever makes you comfortable," Kieran whispered in reply.

    "Okay."

    Much quicker than Farragut had ever been, Kieran pulled away with soft kisses trailing across the numb spot and over Jack''s jaw. "How do you feel?"

    "That was quick." Jack glanced at the microwave''s clock. It hadn''t even been five minutes.

    Kieran cupped Jack''s cheek and kissed the side of his mouth. "Any longer on your neck, and you would pass out, my sweet. To keep you from struggling. I''d rather you be awake when I declare my love for you."

    Jack could feel his cheeks heating, and a small part of him hoped there would be enough blood loss to prevent future blushing. But with how careful Kieran was being, he''d have more than enough blood to blush for the rest of the night. "Uh¡­ Farragut never really went for my neck."

    "An overfeeder tends to avoid the area."

    "He had a stopwatch. One time, a kitchen timer." It was ridiculous, now that he thought of it. "Sorry. I''m just ruining the mood. Um¡­" He tugged on Kieran''s collar, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He leaned back against the corner of the couch and gave Kieran a solid nod.

    He slowly breathed in as Kieran trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck, fighting against the urge to flinch away. The alarm bells were back in full force, telling him to run. That no one else deserved to have a taste of him. He let his breath out in a slow exhale, forcing himself to relax and ignore the thoughts. He was allowed to give any piece of himself to whomever he damn well pleased. Be it his time, energy, or blood.

    He licked at his lips as he tried to focus his attention on his neck. He couldn''t feel anything where Kieran had licked him. There was no wetness and barely any pressure. But there was something there. Inside. Something that probably shouldn''t be. There was no sucking, so he could only assume that Kieran simply relied on his nervous heart rate to do all the work.

    "Uh, Merry Christmas?" he said. He reached up and lightly stroked at Kieran''s hair.

    Kieran hummed in agreement.

 Once Bitten

    Daylight spilled into the bedroom and across the bed, glinting off the charm bracelet Jack wore. He turned his wrist over as he stared at it, still a little torn on whether or not he should think of it as a fancy collar. It wasn''t a collar, he reminded himself. It was a high end joke with love and thought put into it.

    He was thankful that Kieran was busy making breakfast, leaving him alone to process his thoughts. The only payment expected was a "proper" morning greeting.

    And the threat of mouthwash being stored on the nightstand if Kieran didn''t get one.

    Jack smiled at the thought.

    He stretched as he dragged himself out of bed. He hadn''t woken up chained up in the basement or to the bed, and his phone was still on the nightstand. He wasn''t foggy, and he''d only had one nightmare that Kieran had been half-awake for. It was the start to a good day.

    After he got ready, he was going to make it better and give Kieran his stupid proper greeting. And then maybe have too many mimosas.

    His plans were set, and he hyped himself up as he brushed his teeth. He didn''t have anywhere to be, so he could probably skip shaving and thrive in being a scruffy shut in for the day. He looked in the mirror and tilted his head back and to the side. He''d been too frazzled and jittery the night before to properly examine his neck, and he didn''t want to ruin his night by seeing two little red dots hanging out.

    A strangled and confused whine echoed in the bathroom as Jack stared at his reflection.

    There was a light knock on the door. "Jack? My sweet? Are you alright? May I come in?"

    "I''m fine," Jack forced out. He pulled open the door and gestured to his neck. "The fuck is this?!"

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    Kieran eyed the red spot on the side of Jack''s neck, a smirk slowly forming. "I believe it''s referred to as a hickey."

    "I know what it is! Why?! Is it some sort of side effect?" With how the world didn''t know about vampires, Jack had assumed there would be little to no traces left. A happy little hickey right where Kieran bit him was not subtle in the least. Was that the real reason why Farragut never went for his neck?

    "Not at all. I assure you, you received it the old fashioned way. You may give me a matching one, if you''d like," Kieran said as he stepped into the bathroom, crowding Jack against the wall. "Unfortunately, unlike you, I don''t believe I have any turtlenecks with which to cover it. You may choose to leave it as high or low as you wish, but might I suggest above the collar?"

    There was too much mischief in Kieran''s grin for there to be no ulterior motives. Too much mischief and a private conversation with Sam. Jack knew exactly what was up. "Sam gave up on me and invited you to the New Year''s party. Didn''t he?"

    "I would be proud to bear your mark, my sweet siren," Kieran said, his lips ghosting over Jack''s. "Even if you choose not to attend, I''ll gladly deliver your regrets in person."

    "Okay. Yeah. Fine," Jack said between the kisses he received. He had a real reason to go beyond the bribery of food and drink. Sam''s reaction would be worth the social awkwardness. "Just to piss Sam off for making me fill out that police report."

    "A fine punishment, to be sure."

    "I''m taking pictures." Jack swallowed and brought his arms up and around Kieran''s neck. He could feel the heat on his cheeks as he readied himself to admit what he wanted. "They, uh¡­ They have a really nice fireplace, and Sam has a real camera."

    "I''ll give you free reign of my wardrobe, my sweet siren," Kieran said against Jack''s lips. "Dress me however you see fit."

    "I trust you," Jack said. "With your choices. Clothing. That. I mean¡­" He kissed Kieran before he could trip himself up further.

    "I trust you," Jack whispered.