Galen

This is it. This is the last time I’ll ever see Reese. Sariel ruined this—ruined me. He’d forced me to basically rape her only moments earlier. My head is spinning as, even now, he tries to break through.

Give me what I need, and I’ll leave you be, Galen, he whispers through my thoughts.

I can’t. He’ll feed on her and leave her sick, or worse, he’ll fill her with his demon spawn. I can’t do that to her. No matter how much I want to be with her.

I won’t hurt her. I’ll only take what I need.

Fucking hell. What did Andrea do to me? I don’t know how I’ll be able to cope with a sentient being roaming in my mind, ready to take control at the first show of weakness.

“Galen?” Reese’s voice is small and trembling.

For the first time since I regained control, I really look at her. She’s so beautiful, even stricken by fear. I want to take her into my arms and comfort her, but then I remember that I am the cause of her distress. I choose not to answer her, dropping my gaze to the deep grooves scratched into the old hardwood floor. How did those get there? I wonder.

“Galen, what the hell just happened?” She’s more demanding now, impatience lacing her tone.

The dryer beeps and turns off, breaking the tense silence in the room. Without a word, I stand and walk down the hall, retrieving my shirt and slipping the heated fabric over my head. I look everywhere but at her as I make my way to the front door. It’ll be easiest if I leave without another word. Rip off the bandage and move on.

No! She’s the only one I can feed from. You can’t do this to me.

I do my best to ignore Sariel. He may need her, but I can go a very long time without feeding before I completely waste away. It is possible to live without a heart. I’ve done it for nearly one hundred years. I can do it again.

My hand grasps the doorknob but Reese grips my arm and tugs before I can turn it. “Oh, no you don’t,” she says, making me admire her courage. “You can’t just leave without explaining all the shit that just happened.”

When I turn, Sariel tests my strength as my arousal begins to build. “I don’t know where to begin,” I admit while fighting the urge to pin her up against the wall. This wasn’t going to be easy, in any form. I’ve never told anyone what I am. I never thought I would need to.

“Let’s start with the fucking fangs. You definitely didn’t have those the last time we were together.”

I sigh and let her lead me to the kitchen table. “Yes, I did.” Dropping my head into my hands, I pull at my hair as I work up the courage to tell her the truth. “I’m a vampire.”

I wait for a moment, peering through my hands to gauge her reaction. Her face remains blank, impassive, and I start to think maybe this will go over better than I’d anticipated. Then she laughs, a hysterical, disbelieving laugh.

“Leave it to me to hand my virginity to a crazy stalker who thinks he’s a fucking bloodsucker.” She stares me down. “Try again. Vampires aren’t real.”

My shoulders sag, but I rise, taking a chef’s knife from her kitchen, sliding the blade across the skin of my forearm. She screams, her hands flailing uselessly as my blood drips onto the white linoleum.

“What the hell? Oh my God.”

“Give me your arm,” I order, frustrated that I have to do this.

Warily, she complies. My fangs descend again, and I pull her wrist to my mouth without giving her a second to rethink her choice. As soon as my teeth puncture her skin, she’s moaning. Sariel roars in my head, trying desperately to get me to fuck her. After only a few pulls on her vein, I release her, kissing her wrist softly and wiping a drop of my blood over the wound I left on her.

She sucks in a sharp breath as the gash across my skin heals while she watches.

“Holy fuck,” she breathes.

I nod.

“But … you can’t … we …” She stands and paces the floor of the small kitchen. I stare at her in disbelief. She didn’t run screaming for the hills. I want to crush her to me and kiss her breathless, but I don’t move. Remaining tense, I continue to watch her move around the kitchen as she processes what she just saw.

Turning toward me, she stands as far away as possible, gaze wary. “What about your eyes? And your accent? That wasn’t you earlier. It couldn’t have been. You were so different.”

A heavy sigh escapes me. There was still so much about Sariel that I didn’t understand. How was I going to explain him to her?

“You’re right, it wasn’t me. It was my Watcher.”

“Watcher?”

I close the distance between us, dying a little inside when she flinches at my touch. “Reese, I won’t hurt you.” At my words, she relaxes a fraction. Taking her hand, I lead her back to the table. “Come, sit. It’s a long story.”

When I’ve told her everything I know about Sariel and the circumstances surrounding her and me, she remains immobile. Quiet. Too quiet. Her hands are folded on top of the table and she’s staring at the salt shaker as if it might move of its own volition. She takes a breath as though she’s about to say something, then stalls, focusing on her fingers.

“I know it’s a lot to take in. I don’t …”

“So you’re telling me, in addition to you being a vampire, this fallen angel—Watcher—whatever, wants to have sex with me because he thinks I might be his soul mate? And I might die because of it?” Her gaze flicks up to me, looking for some kind of answer.

I nod, not really knowing how to handle this.

Those wide blues of hers lock on to mine. “And you? How do you feel about me?”

I try to answer right away, but I come up short. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how much is him and how much is me.”

She clicks her tongue. “So I guess it’s his name I should’ve been screaming?”

That nearly sends me through the roof. “No way in hell. You’ll not be screaming any other man’s name, so help me…”

“Hmm, I guess we’ve got our answer,” she says, a tender smile on her lips. “At least that part of it was real.”

“Oh, it’s all real, a ghra. I didn’t want to tell you any of this. I thought I could just slip out of your life, but the need to remain connected was so strong. It still is. Even now, I’m aching to be near you however you see fit.”

She tenses and then softens. “You’re not going to kill me, then? No draining my blood and leaving my body for Trisha to find in the morning?”

I shake my head, trying to hold my hope at bay as she stands and takes my hand. Fire races through me, and on instinct, my cock lengthens.

“Come on,” she says, pulling me to the couch where only an hour earlier, Sariel had tried to defile her.

“What are we doing?”

“You said however I see fit. I’m probably crazy, but we’re going to give this a shot. I’m turning on Netflix, you’re not going to kill me, and we’re going to hang out like a normal couple.”

Frowning, I let her settle next to me, leaving my hand in hers as she chooses something to watch. Sariel claws at my consciousness, fighting to be freed, but I hold fast. He’s not getting her tonight.

At least for now, I win.

* * *

Reese

I haven’t seen Mochi this morning. He’s usually my alarm clock, waking me with his customary purrs and head butts. I’m pretty sure he’s hiding from the evil vampire who invaded his house. I’m in my bed, but I don’t remember how I got here. Galen must have carried me to my room some time after I’d dozed off. It all seems like a strange dream. As I drag my tired body into the kitchen, I almost convince myself of that until I see the knife he’d used on his arm. It’s washed and sitting in the drying rack, the only remaining evidence. A twinge races down to my crotch at the memory of his mouth on my wrist, fangs puncturing my skin, and the mini orgasm I’d had as he’d fed on me. My hand moves reflexively to the small, shiny scars marring my flesh. Two tiny pinpricks, no one would even know they were there, but the raised bumps are absolute proof that I hadn’t hallucinated the whole night.

“Trisha?” I call. “Coffee’s on.”

The answering silence is unusual and unsettling. She’s not the type to have sleepovers with the guys she screws. Trisha views sex as a means to an end. She’s always telling me she likes to get off and get gone. Glancing at the table by our front door, I see her purse and shoes. She’s here. A wave of relief courses through me. As the coffee brews, I move about the apartment, fixing the blanket that drapes the couch, fluffing the throw pillows, making sure any sign that Galen was here is gone.

The coffeepot beeps, signaling its job is done. I pour myself a mug and doctor it with some cream and sugar, beginning to feel concerned that not even the heavenly aroma of coffee can rouse my roommate. Filling a cup for her, I walk to her closed bedroom door and knock.

“Trisha, can I come in?”

A soft groan of “Okay,” floats through the door.

I peek inside her messy room. She’s sprawled facedown on her bed, her hair a tangle of curls.

“You okay?” I ask.

“I feel like shit,” she mutters, turning over and sitting up carefully.

“Vodka?”

Shaking her head, she winces and grabs at her neck, massaging her muscles. “No. Ugh, I slept funny.” She takes the mug from my hands and gives it a tentative sip. “I only had a few drinks.”

“What time did you get in?” A knot of worry tightens my gut. If she saw Galen surely she’d be all over me by now.

Shrugging, she pulls her mass of hair away from her face.

My stomach churns as she twists her hair into a bun. Her throat is bruised, two slight scabs along the line of her jugular.

“What happened to your neck?” I ask, trying to remain calm.

She pauses, reaching up to feel the marks, and then grins. “Not sure. Love bite? I don’t remember him going anywhere near my neck, though. If you catch my drift.”

“Huh.” I swallow hard and force a laugh, trying to keep from being sick as I turn on my heels and walk away from her. Galen fed on her. The thought makes me burn with anger.

I had planned on using my day off to lounge, maybe catch up on some sleep; now I didn’t want to be anywhere near Trisha, my home, or memories of Galen. I have to get out of this apartment. After throwing on some clothes, I grab my laptop and purse and bolt out the door, heading for Green Lake Park.

The sun is warm even through the clouds. I tilt my head back as I sit on the bench, letting the heat sink into my bones as I try to convince myself I’m overreacting. I need to talk to Galen, give him a chance to explain how Trisha ended up a vampire’s meal the same night he revealed himself. He wouldn’t have fed from her. Would he?

It’s still late morning, hours left until sunset. I’m assuming he’s bound by the same rule of almost all vampire lore, no sunlight. Pulling out my phone, I enable my mobile Internet hotspot and open my laptop. If my boyfriend, for lack of a better word, is a vampire, I should probably do as much research as possible before I see him again.

The sun is low in the sky by the time I head home. My head is filled with myths and legends about vampires and fallen angels. A few of the stories made me feel ill, but one stood out above all the others. The angels lusted after human women and impregnated them. Impregnated. Galen conveniently left that little nugget out when he told me about Sariel. After I read that, I needed to move, to think about anything else. I chose distraction by way of wandering downtown Seattle until I could no longer avoid my life. Now, my feet ache from the hours of walking, and as I slide my key in the door, I can almost hear them thanking me for calling it a day.

The apartment is dark and quiet. Trisha is gone again. That eases my mind a little bit. She must be feeling better if she went out. The curtains in the living room are drawn, keeping the room shaded. Glancing at the clock, I realize sunset is moments away, so I wander to the window and pull the fabric away from the glass. The sky is a beautiful burnt orange, fading to red and pink before giving in to night. I love a good sunset, and there’s nothing quite like the silhouette of the Seattle skyline against the brilliant colors of the fading sun.

I feel him before he speaks. That pull of my heart to his brings my attention away from the horizon.

“Really?” I ask. “You can’t even call first?” I hate the way all my worries vanish the moment I see him. I’ve got so many things to say, so many fears, but all I can think about is how damn hot he is.

He stands in my doorway, leaning against the frame, smirking. I say he because, frankly, I’m not sure who I’m talking to—Galen or Sariel. I really need to start locking my doors.

“Who are you tonight?” I force myself to stay put, not giving in to my desire to touch him.

His lips turn down into a pout. “A ghra, I hope you know it’s me.” His Irish brogue is thick, and as I move closer, I can see his dark brown irises.

“You can’t come in. I’m rescinding your invitation.”

A confused look passes over his beautiful features. “What?” he asks as he steps over the threshold.

Damn the Internet and its lies.

“I said, you can’t come in. You might accidentally impregnate me!” I can’t help but shout the last.

He stops in his tracks. “I …”

“Don’t you think that’s an important bit of information for me to have? Especially since you told me you couldn’t have children.”

“I didn’t know. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve not been inside you since our date. As soon as I found out the risks to you, I tried to stop seeing you altogether.”

I let out a harsh laugh. I’m still mad at him, but it makes sense. “You failed miserably at staying away.”

“Aye, that I did.”

Hands on my hips, I sigh. “I’ve got questions. Lots of them.”

“As you wish, a ghra.”

“Okay, do you kill people?”

His gaze darts to the floor. Oh, I’m not going to like this answer. “Not anymore.”

Hmm, cryptic. “We’re coming back to that one. How about silver? Does it burn you?”

Shaking his head, he offers a slight grin.

“How about the no-sunlight thing?”

He nods, shoving his hands in his pockets as he closes the distance between us. “An unfortunate reality.”

“Garlic?”

“I’m not much of a fan of the smell. Though, I can’t say for sure if that’s just a preference. I’ve never liked it much.”

“How old are you?”

He stands with his lips so close to mine, I can barely breathe. “Very.”

“That’s not an answer,” I say. “I want to know if I’m—”

He cuts me off with a fierce kiss, pressing me back until I’m against the window for all the world to see. His hands tangle in my hair, pulling just enough to make me see how much he wants me.

“Galen, wait,” I murmur, out of breath and really wishing I didn’t need to ask him this. “Is this you or Sariel?”

He groans, visibly fighting frustration. “Both, I think. I want you, but he needs you.”

“What will happen to him if he doesn’t feed?”

“I’m not sure. I know I pay the cost.”

Pushing him away from me, I study him. He looks haggard, eyes ringed in dark circles, cheeks sallow. “What do you mean?”

“I think he takes his energy from me if I don’t let him feed. That’s the only explanation. But the only one who can feed him is you.”

“Why don’t you just ask him?”

Raking his hand through his hair, he walks away, pacing the living room a few times before sitting on my couch. “If I do that … I don’t know if I can control him. We’re both weakened, but he’s always stronger.”

His brows draw together, and with a soft grunt, he winces, closing himself away. He’s off the couch and inches from me in the space between heartbeats. Taking a slow breath, he opens his eyes and stares at me. I stifle my gasp, but just barely. Just like that, Galen is gone and Sariel stands before me.

* * *

Sariel

“Sariel,” she breathes, fear dripping from my name on her lips.

Tenderly, I run my hand over her cheek. “Don’t be afraid, Reese. I’m not here to hurt you. I need you. Galen needs you.”

Her heart hammers in her rib cage like a trapped bird. I can also sense her arousal. Her nipples are hard beneath the thin cotton shirt she’s wearing, and the change in her breathing isn’t only her fear. It’s lust.

“Why me?” she asks.

I don’t have much of an answer for her. I thought she was my soul mate, but now I wonder. Is she mine, or is she Galen’s? Either way, the connection she has to one of us woke me, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I need to feed.

“I can give him back to you without a fight, but you have to let him, let me take what we need. I can’t die. I’m truly immortal. Galen will wither and fade, a slow and painful death. Have you ever seen someone starve? I have. It’s not pretty.”

She swallows hard and turns away from me. “He won’t do it.”

I lean in, running my nose along her neck, making her shiver. “He will if you tell him he can.” Grazing her ear with my teeth, I whisper, “I’ll fade into the background, and you can have him, forever.”

“You’ll kill me. Or knock me up.”

I shrug. “It’s possible. I’ll do my best not to kill you. I can’t promise you won’t get pregnant. That depends on Galen. I only keep things … working.”

Backing away from her, I wander to the kitchen and open a bottle of wine. Pouring her a glass, I smile at her, holding the drink out. I sense her hesitation as she crosses the room and takes the wine. I need to fix this. She doesn’t trust me, and I don’t blame her. But I’m fucking starving.

“I’m not even sure how he feels about me. You’re always there, influencing everything.”

Shaking my head, I laugh. “I’m only a small fraction of his feelings, baby. He can’t think of anything but you. It’s annoying, really.”

“What do you want? Why stay on earth?”

I don’t want to answer that. There are so many things I’ve seen and done over the last few thousand years. Most of which I’m not proud of.

“Sariel?”

I blink away the memories of my past. “I … I’m looking for someone.”

“Your soul mate?”

Resigned, I nod.

“What happens when you find her?”

“I’ll be whole again. I just want to live out my days with her. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, but He took her.”

She takes a deep drink of her wine. “What makes you think she’s still here? Wouldn’t she be in Heaven?”

“Punishment. He was angry with us for disobeying, for loving His creations, so He flooded the earth, killing everything, save Noah and his family. After the Great Flood, He took the souls of our mates and cast them into purgatory. One by one, He’s been freeing them. Letting them live another life while we are stuck, unable to find them.”

I watch her face as I share my story. Tears brim, quivering on her lashes, and I can’t contain the overwhelming urge to hold her. She stiffens in my arms at first, and confusion floods me. She should want me. Her soul should recognize mine.

“You think I might be her?” Pity coats her words, making me feel sick.

I nod, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“I’m not.”

“We’ll see.” With a shake of my head, I tighten my hold.

“I’m so sorry, Sariel.”