Niall hated leaving Jonathan after feeding him. In truth, he hated walking away from his mate at all. It seemed as if that was all he ever did. At first, his leaving had been about finding the demon who’d gotten them into this mess to begin with. Then, the blood bond had settled in. Now everything was about making Jonathan’s life easier. Niall had headed first to New York and dealt with Jonathan’s job. He’d put the idea in their heads that Jonathan had moved on to bigger and better things. It hadn’t been hard to manipulate minds at the magazine. As an award-winning journalist, Jonathan was their star. No one was surprised he’d found a better job, especially since he’d once seriously dated the boss only to end up cheated on. That tidbit had Niall considering dropping some erectile dysfunction into the man’s brain, but his loss was Niall’s clan’s gain.

From New York, he’d switched gears, going on the hunt for their missing demon pack. He wanted the one who’d harmed his mate with something akin to madness. The beast living inside Niall demanded blood for blood. He’d known the pack would find new hunting ground after Tortola had been compromised. Niall had picked up their trail in Port Allen—a twenty-two-mile stretch of sea port along the coast of Crown Haven. After months of surveillance and searching the docks, he’d set up a new home for his clan. Now they were together again. That was how Niall had ended up here, spending half the morning staring at his mate and craving what he could never have. What he shared with Jonathan wasn’t love. They hadn’t spent years in each other’s pockets, building a partnership. This was worse. It was a gnawing, bone-deep craving that clawed at his gut all hours of the day. That was why he needed to make someone or something hurt. Lucky him; Niall had captured a demon right before Jonathan’s arrival.

“What’s your name?”

The demon looked down at himself. “I believe his name was Larry.” He shook his head. “Such a plain name for such a handsome man. Oh, and the things he let me do to him before I took control of his body. In my real form, no less. He’s a freaky fella.” He cackled as if Niall didn’t intend to make him hurt.

Faolan held out a water gun to Niall. With a dip of his chin, Niall accepted. He eyed the plastic toy for a second before squirting the demon. An angry-sounding growl rent the air before transforming into a moan. Demons were a masochistic lot.

“Holy water? Mhmm, that’s an interesting choice for a vampire. I never realized vampires were into pain play. Obviously, I prefer whips and chains, but I can get into holy water as well.”

Niall exchanged glances with Faolan before responding. “Holy water has no effect on vampires,” Niall said, pointing out a detail any demon should know—unless he was a young one.

“You lie,” the demon spat.

At the accusation, Niall shot himself in the arm. He flashed his wrist toward the demon, showing no damage had been done. “Seems you should’ve polished up on your knowledge of other species before joining the fight against the human race.”

“Join. Ha! You say that as if there was a choice.”

Something wasn’t right. The spot where the holy water hit should’ve healed by now. Not only was it not healing, the damage wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it should be. This was no demon, but he was young—a demon spawn, perhaps.

“What’s your name?” Niall asked again. “This time, don’t lie. I’m much older than you. Older than you can fathom. I know this is no demonic possession. This is your true form.”

Panic crossed the creature’s face before sliding behind a mask of indifference. He shrugged. “I’d rather settle in for some torture. Don’t let my age fool you. Names have power. Power means control. I’ve been controlled my whole life. You can’t be any worse.”

“If you won’t give us your name. Tell us about the piers,” Faolan demanded. “We know you’re using them to kidnap women. Where are you taking them? Which dock are you using?”

The demon spawn snorted. “Ask better questions.”

Niall bit back a growl. Sometimes demons could be quite literal. If they didn’t ask the right questions, he’d never answer or tell plausible lies that would keep them chasing their tails for eternity. A wave of sadness washed over Niall. It wasn’t his. Everything around him disappeared as he focused on Jonathan.

What’s wrong?

Just feeling useless and out of place today. Get back to work. Don’t worry over me.

Niall ignored Jonathan’s demand. Instead, he focused harder on Jonathan, opening all his senses and climbing inside the man’s head. He needed to know if Jonathan was telling him the whole truth. Jonathan was trying to push him out. All Niall felt was unnatural warmth.

Where are you?

Shower.

Niall shot to his feet. Stay put. He handed the water gun to Faolan. “He’s yours. I have business.”

Faolan dipped his chin. A smirk touched his lips. “Thank you. You know how much I love inflicting harm.”

He did, but that was not why Niall was walking away. Jonathan needed him. The demon spawn wasn’t going anywhere.

* * *

Stay put? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Jonathan ducked his head beneath the deluge of water, hoping to drown his thoughts from Niall. The air stirred at his back. Jonathan didn’t lift his head. He knew Niall was there without having to look. His dick stirred. Niall was too close while Jonathan was too naked. He knew he needed to react, but he didn’t know how. Cool lips touched Jonathan’s nape. Jonathan’s lips parted on a breath. With his mind carefully blank, Jonathan turned.

“Talk to me,” Niall said, sounding heartbreakingly sweet.

“I’m taking a shower.”

Niall dipped his chin. “I’m aware. It’s pissing down on my good boots.”

Jonathan dropped his gaze to Niall’s feet. Sure enough, the man wore unlaced work boots. Jonathan’s gaze traveled up Niall’s body. His legs were encased in ragged jeans. A half-tucked T-shirt plastered to the man’s ripped stomach as beads of water splashed from Jonathan’s body onto Niall’s skin. He also wore a red unbuttoned flannel shirt as if it wasn’t ninety degrees outside. His outfit, combined with the full beard covering his chin, brought a certain image to Jonathan’s mind.

Despite their circumstances, a snort escaped Jonathan. “You look like a large Scottish lumberjack today.”

Niall’s eyes never wavered from Jonathan’s face. His mouth lifted in one corner in a small smile. It was enough to bring out the man’s dimples and make Jonathan’s heart turn over in his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Cin asked, ripping open the shower door and looking panicked.

Niall glanced over, obviously unconcerned over their current location. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“I’m taking a shower,” Jonathan repeated through numb lips.

Niall sighed long and loud. “Hand us a towel, Cin.”

Cin dutifully passed one over.

Before Jonathan could protest, Niall’s arms encircled him. He wrapped the towel around Jonathan’s waist. His gaze held Jonathan’s the entire time, as if making a point of not eyeing Jonathan’s nude body. Jonathan burned every place they touched. He was hyper-aware of the way Niall carefully avoided brushing Jonathan’s erection. He could’ve easily done so, even by accident. It wouldn’t have been difficult, considering Jonathan’s dick was twitching and trying to get closer to Niall.

Niall’s gaze turned heated. In the man’s eyes, Jonathan saw all the ways Niall would take him if they were alone. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“There,” Niall said, tucking one corner of the towel in tight and ensuring Jonathan wouldn’t lose it. “Now you’re sufficiently covered. You can stop thinking about how Cin will be mad at you over this and tell us what’s wrong.”

“Why would I be mad?” Cin asked, sounding hurt.

“I don’t like being useless,” Jonathan said over the top of him before they had time to discuss things none of them wanted to talk about. This was an easier topic. “For the past couple of months, I’ve gone from sitting around because I was healing to sitting around because I’m useless here. I’m used to working and helping. Eternity is going to be ridiculously long if I’m forced to spend it doing nothing.”

Niall nodded. His expression never changed. “All you needed to say was you were ready to work. I’ve got plenty for you to do. Finish your shower and then you can get started.” Without another word, Niall stepped from the shower and headed for the door.

“Hold up, Niall. We need to talk,” Cin called at the man’s back. Niall didn’t stop. If anything, he picked up the pace.

Cin growled. It sounded ridiculously sexy. “Fuck.” He spun and covered Jonathan’s mouth in a hard and quick kiss. His eyes said everything his lips didn’t. Cin loved him. “I can’t believe you thought I’d be angry.” He released a loud sigh as if exhausted by it all. “Finish your shower.”

Jonathan’s shoulders fell once he was alone. He was failing everyone.

* * *

Cin’s rage boiled as he followed Niall’s trail of water to the man’s bedroom. Without bothering to knock, he threw open the door and stormed inside. Niall stood shirtless, looking less than surprised to see Cin.

“We have to talk about this, Niall.”

“There’s nothing to discuss. I’m trying my arse off here, Cin. Just leave it at that.”

“I know you’re trying.”

“Do you?” Niall shot back. “You think talking this out will change anything? It won’t. No matter which way I go, I’ll lose. I’m losing my mate already. If I claim him, I’ll lose you. Tell me how talking it out will fix anything? Fuck. This is why I stayed away.”

“You stayed away because you’re a coward,” Cin said, losing his temper. “We were right where you left us, waiting—”

Cin found his back shoved against the wall and a pissed-off Niall hovering over him before he realized it would happen. Niall’s fangs were bared as if he intended to take Cin apart.

“Is this the reaction you sought? Do you need to see and feel my fury?” He leaned in, pinning Cin to the wall with his weight before loudly inhaling Cin’s scent. “You smell like him. It’s my mate’s blood pumping through your veins.” His lips touched Cin’s pulse point. Cin didn’t dare take a breath. He’d never seen Niall like this before. He’d always been intense, but this was different. Cin wondered if the man would kill him. After all, he was the only thing standing between Niall and Jonathan. “I can’t decide if I want to drain your blood to get all of his, or kiss you so I can taste him on your lips. Is that what you hoped to hear?”

“Do it,” Cin taunted, because anything, anything at all was better than living in constant suspense, waiting for the ax to fall.

Niall slammed his fist into the wall beside Cin’s head. Cin refused to show an ounce of weakness. The way Niall’s nostrils flared proved his temper hadn’t eased upon impact. “You’ve been feeding him while I was away.”

“Yes.”

With each breath, Niall’s shoulders rose and fell. “Thank you for taking care of him. You need to feed too.”

“I’m fine,” Cin lied. He couldn’t imagine biting anyone else. Faolan had been keeping him fed so he wouldn’t have to sully his teeth with a stranger. It was crazy, he knew, but fuck. He’d never have as much to offer Jonathan as Niall did. His blood would never be royal. The least he could do was keep his fangs within the clan.

Niall bared his throat. “Take my blood.”

Cin stared at Niall’s neck and listened to the blood pumping through his veins. Like Niall, Jonathan was a sickness. Niall shared Jonathan’s blood. It was as if they were all one and the same now. It would be just like tasting Jonathan. He moved closer without realizing it. His lips touched Niall’s skin. It was as if an invisible line lured him in. Cin’s fangs grew. Blood filled his mouth as they pierced Niall’s vein. A moan rose in his throat with no chance of him calling it back. As a royal, Niall’s flavor was unique. He was rich, like the most expensive wine. Cin had to force himself not to take too much since Niall had just fed Jonathan.

As he pulled away, other hungers made themselves known. Niall was standing too close. Waves of lust rolled off his skin. They were connected through Jonathan in a way they shouldn’t be, but there it was. The way Niall watched him, as if he could offer Cin endless pleasure, had Cin ready to do anything. The lines were blurred. This was Jonathan’s mate. Even with desire swimming in Niall’s gaze, his fury hadn’t eased. Cin couldn’t take the uncertainty of his life any longer. He couldn’t stand the gap between them.

“Do it,” Cin taunted again, recognizing Niall was on the edge of exploding with anger.

Niall leaned closer. Barely an inch separated their mouths from touching. Cin could feel the man’s every exhaled breath brushing his lips. Niall’s flavor wasn’t unfamiliar to him. They’d lived together hundreds of years. It was inevitable they’d give in to passion occasionally. He could already taste Niall coating his tongue. The rage in Niall’s gaze dimmed. He pushed away.

“You’re not him.”

He snagged a box from his dresser and pushed it into Cin’s arms. The man’s dark expression made it that much harder for Cin to catch his breath. “Give that to Jonathan. In Tortola, things got so hectic, his laptop and all his work got left behind at the hotel. I grabbed it for him. Let him know I need him to keep doing everything he did before the turn, except now he does it for me and not a magazine. He’s always been one step ahead of us. I don’t expect that’ll change.”

“Niall,” Cin said, still trying his damnedest to salvage things.

Niall ignored him. “I’ll pay him whatever. Hell, royalty should have some perks, right? Also, let him know I’ll back pay him for the past six years he’s been working with us without knowing it.”

Niall undressed and found dry clothes while giving his speech. The longer he talked, the more Cin’s heart sank. Niall had made up his mind. This was how things would be between them now.

Cin cleared his throat past the lump growing there. “Seems to me, you’ve already decided to give up both of us.” He cleared his throat again. “I would’ve followed you anywhere, my prince,” Cin said, giving a short bow and walking away. He no longer cared to hear what else Niall had to say. The deep hurt in Niall’s eyes made Cin feel like the worst of traitors. It was funny how something could be no one’s fault, yet still feel like it was everyone’s.

He heard Jonathan’s laughter before reaching the living room. There was a reason Faolan’s name sounded like “fool-on.” He always acted like an idiot and was always on. It seemed today was no different. Instead of racing into the room, hoping to see Jonathan’s smile, Cin slowed his step. He worried if he burst into the room, he’d have to watch the smile slip from Jonathan’s face. The man rarely smiled anymore. Instead, Cin lingered outside the door and eavesdropped.

Jonathan’s voice drifted out. “Why do I get the feeling you were the court jester in your day? Wait. Was that even a thing back then?”

“Our days could get verra boring. That is, when we weren’t working to survive. Back then, every day was a chore. You woke up and then worked your arse off just to make it through another day. Hauling in water, feeding animals, hunting, and doing a million things people take for granted today with a push of a button. But still, at mealtimes or at night before bed, there was no TV, or much of anything for entertainment. So, I guess I have always been a bit of a jokester. Someone had to break the monotony.”

“I’m sure your efforts were appreciated.”

A loud guffaw sounded throughout the room. Cin smiled. He could practically see Faol holding his stomach in laughter. “Not at all. If anything, I was a bit of a nuisance. Not that I cared, mind you. I like to make people laugh, and whether they admit to it or not, people need a reason to smile. Nowadays, I don’t have as much of an audience, but I still try. It’s nice to have a fresh face to entertain.”

“So I’m your project now?”

Faol’s voice turned serious. “Aye, if you’d like to call it that. You’re sad, and I don’t know how else to fix it.”

Silence fell between them for long enough to make Cin feel a bit stupid for still lingering outside the door. When Jonathan spoke again, Cin’s heart squeezed in his chest.

“They should’ve let me die. All of this could’ve been avoided.”

“Aye, they should’ve,” Faol said, making Cin want to rush into the room and flatten his nose. The man’s next words kept his feet glued to the floor. “Then again, mayhap if Cin had turned you years ago, as he should’ve done, all this could’ve been avoided. It matters not why things are as they are. The Gods have set you on this path. Eventually, you’ll find out why. Until then, keep in mind you have no control over fate, and get on with your life.”

Jonathan sighed. “For future reference, don’t worry too much over my mood. It’s all over the place since my turning. I’m like a crazy hormonal teenager. There’s no sense in you worrying about something even I can’t control.”

“It’ll get better. Everything’s just heightened—”

Since they’d moved past the heavy stuff, Cin chose to make his presence known, cutting off Faol. “I come bearing gifts.”

Rather than Jonathan’s smile melting away, as Cin feared, it grew at the sight of Cin. “Hey, sexy. I’m in dire need of gifts, and you, of course,” Jonathan added with a wink. Cin crossed the room and set the box on the table in front of Jonathan. He leaned forward and eyed its contents. “Wow. It’s stuff that already belongs to me,” Jonathan said with laughter lacing each word. Cin swept in and captured Jonathan’s lips, forcing the man back against the couch until he could straddle his hips. “Mmm,” Jonathan hummed against his lips. “It’s even more stuff that already belongs to me.”

“I think I hear someone calling my name,” Faol said, laughing. “Like at the other end of the house. Possibly it came from the pub down the street,” he added, his voice getting farther away.

Cin waved over his shoulder, sending the other man on his way. “Goddamn, Jonathan. I don’t want to do anything anymore but touch you. It’s like I need to make up for all the many times we’ve been apart. I know we have forever, but damn,” he said, humming the last word against Jonathan’s throat. “There used to be this ice cream parlor in London. I swear, you smell just like that place. It makes me want to lick you all day.” Cin could smell Jonathan’s lust, hear the way his heart rate kicked up, and practically taste the endorphins in the air. “I love you,” Cin said, whispering the words like a shared secret.

Jonathan massaged Cin’s ass between his hands, drawing him closer and obviously not unwilling to forgo another night of working. “I love you too, baby.”

“The lovey-dovey shit is boring. Get to the dick sucking already.”

Cin’s head whipped around in Faol’s direction. “What the hell? I thought you’d left.”

Faol’s wicked smile held no repentance. “I’m verra good at throwing my voice, making it seem like I’m getting farther away.” He pitched his voice lower with every word, demonstrating the effect. “Now, let’s see some skin.”

Jonathan’s body shook with laughter. That was the only reason Cin wasn’t losing his shit. Jonathan patted his ass. “Tell me why you’ve brought my computer.”

Cin reluctantly climbed from Jonathan’s lap. As much as he wanted to be alone with Jonathan, he knew a lost cause when he saw one. “You’re working for Niall now.”

“Just Niall?”

Cin glanced over, confused by Jonathan’s odd tone. “Yes. We all work for Niall. Now you do too. So,” he said, snagging the laptop from the box, “he needs your brand of research. While we’re certain the demons are using this town for the same purposes as Tortola, we’ve yet to locate the pack. You found them without trying in Tortola. We need you to do it again.”

Jonathan eyed the laptop. “That’s probably long past being dead.”

Cin passed the device Jonathan’s way. “Find an outlet and get started. We need you.”