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  And he'd invited Wolfe in. His heart twisting, he remembered that clearly. Through a haze of lust and longing, he'd invited a monster into his home. He'd let a monster fuck him.

  No. He didn't know Wolfe was a monster. Did he? There could be another explanation. Although he had yet to come up with one.

  Frustrated, he clutched his coffee mug, willing the night to come faster.

  When the knock came, Matt took three steps toward the door before he even realized it. He had to force himself to stop. “Wolfe?"

  "It's me."

  Swallowing, Matt set his mug down on his desk and turned on the lamp. Comforting white light pushed back the inky blue of early night. Then he stepped up to the door, placing his palm on the panel.

  Did he really hear Wolfe's sigh before he spoke? “I know you're mad at me. Open up. We need to talk."

  "What if I don't let you in?"

  Pause. Another sigh? “You've already invited me in once, Matt. That's all it takes."

  Fear ratcheted up in Matt's chest. “Are-are you...?"

  "Yes. I am. I promise not to hurt you. I promise not to touch you if you don't say it's okay. Just let me come in and explain."

  Matt watched his hand tremble and wondered at the detached way he felt the fear icing his veins.

  "Please, Matt. It's time you got an explanation on what happened and heard my apology about Daniel."

  "Daniel?” That jump-started him. His hand dropped to the doorknob, quickly unlocking it and twisting it open. He glared at the vision of wonder standing before him. “What do you know about Daniel?"

  Wolfe stepped toward him, and Matt instinctively backed away. He continued to back up as Wolfe entered his apartment, and didn't stop until the backs of his thighs hit the arm of the couch, although Wolfe had stopped just inside, turning halfway to quietly close the door.

  Black and white. Tonight Wolfe looked more traditionally like the popular image of a vampire. If he had a tail jacket and a cloak, he'd be perfect. Actually, he was perfect. Black slacks tapered down his long legs to the tips of his boots. A crisp, blinding white dress shirt draped his shoulders, open at the collar to reveal a chest not too many shades darker than the shirt. He was definitely paler tonight, which made his hair and eyebrows darker, his green eyes more luminous, and his red, red lips far more tempting. This man was the main subject of Matt's fantasies, not to mention the only person to have touched him in so very long. Monster or not, this was the only person Matt had talked to—really talked to—since the night of Daniel's death. Here was the only friend Matt had in the world and might very well be the thing he most feared.

  Matt crushed his hands into fists and crossed them over the small of his back to keep from reaching as Wolfe turned back to face him.

  Those magnificent eyes were filled with sorrow, enough to tug at Matt's heart and nearly bring tears to his own eyes.

  "The vampire who killed your lover was my fledgling."

  Matt's body froze as his mind whirled. Not only had Wolfe said the word vampire himself, he'd admitted a link to the monster who'd ruined Matt's life.

  Wolfe paused, watching his face, then continued, voice low and steady. “Shawn was very young and wasn't the man I thought him to be. I made him mostly because of loss and loneliness. Not the best of excuses, but it's the only one I have."

  "You made him?"

  "Yes. And I lost control of him. He escaped me. By the time I tracked him down, he had already killed Daniel."

  "He would have killed anyway. He's a v-vampire.” You're a vampire!

  "No. Not necessarily. We don't have to kill. We don't usually kill. Those who do are considered dangerous and are hunted and destroyed. As I destroyed Shawn."

  "Destroyed?"

  "Yes. Shawn is gone. For good. I took care of him the night after he killed your lover."

  The couch cushioned Matt's collapse onto it. He kept his eyes on Wolfe, trying to process what was being told to him. The vampire was gone. Had been gone. Matt had kept to himself for no reason. No, there was reason. There were other vampires. One stood before him. He swallowed, shaking his head, not at all sure what to think. “You're a vampire.” He whispered the words, hoping against hope that he was hearing wrong.

  "Yes."

  "But I've talked to you during the day!"

  "I don't sleep the entire day."

  Matt stared wide-eyed at the table before him. The man he could very well have fallen in love with was a vampire?

  He sensed movement on the other side of the room but didn't look up. “Matthew, I cannot begin to tell you how much I regret Shawn's actions. I've tried to make up for what he did in the past two years."

  "My job."

  "Yes."

  That made quite a bit of sense. Now he knew why Wolfe accepted his odd behavior.

  Matt frowned. Make up for what he did? “Daniel wasn't the only one he killed that night."

  "I know."

  Wolfe's been taking care of me. He could now think of any number of little things that had happened to help him or casual suggestions Wolfe made to point him toward people who could accommodate his strange schedule. The support had been seamless, making him wonder why he hadn't seen it before. “Have you been taking care of the other families as well?” He didn't know the other people, but he knew of them. He'd known their names once, thought of trying to contact them, to see if they knew anything or if they'd been visited.

  "At first, yes. But the other losses weren't as devastating. You have, by far, suffered the most."

  Matt drew into himself. Pity. Wolfe was in his life because of pity. That almost felt worse than the vampire part, which was just ridiculous.

  He jumped, shying toward the far end of the couch when Wolfe appeared beside him. “I tried to help you. I tried to give you time to heal.” The voice implored him, begged him to understand. “I didn't think you'd want further proof that vampires really exist, so I stayed away. I'd hoped that you'd convince yourself you'd been seeing things and would go on with your life."

  Matt shook his head, tucking back against the arm of the couch. “I wasn't seeing things."

  "No."

  "I wasn't hearing things. He called to me!"

  "I know. I'm sorry, Matt. I've only recently realized that."

  Matt opened eyes he didn't remember closing, swiped a hand at tears he hadn't realized he'd shed, and glared at the vampire. “What do you mean?"

  "I didn't know he'd found you like that. I didn't know you could hear the call until a few weeks ago."

  "What are you saying?"

  Wolfe took a deep breath. He needs to breathe? Or is that just for effect? “We can modulate our voices to compel humans. Most don't even recognize it, but they can't resist. But some do. The ones who can are very attractive to us. Because the humans who can resist the call are the humans who can be converted into vampires."

  Again Matt froze. He remembered the other vampire—Shawn?—calling to him, telling him to open the door. He remembered resisting for what seemed like forever.

  Wolfe continued, watching him sadly. “I only realized you could resist the call when I tried it on you."

  "What?"

  Wolfe winced, gaze skittering away. Long, pale fingers dug into the arm of the couch. “I wanted to try and help you. Get you out during the night and let you see that you were safe. I tried to call you from your apartment last Friday. I doubt you even realized when. But you resisted. It was mostly fear that let you do it, but fear in another human wouldn't be enough to resist me."

  "You tried to call me?” Last Friday. What had he been doing last Friday? He'd long ago lost true track of days. Had there been a pull? He often felt small urges to go outside, but they'd been easily squelched. Had that happened on Friday?

  "I wanted to get you outside. I thought that...” Wolfe shook his head, standing straight. One hand speared through the loose black hair at his temple, forcing shimmering curls to sway about his neck and shoulders. “It was a mistake, but I was at
my wits’ end. I wanted to help you get on with your life, and I hadn't found any other way to do it.” He walked away, toward the kitchen. “After that, I knew. I knew that Shawn had likely found you. Scared you. Scarred you. I knew that your fear was more grounded than I'd expected.” He fingered an empty plate that sat on the counter dividing the kitchen and living room. “I knew I'd have to actually see you."

  Realization slowly dawned. “You called me last night. You got me to open the door."

  He saw the small smile in profile. “Only a little. You were already inclined to open the door. I just had to nudge the fear away some.” He faced Matt. “I used lust to do that."

  Matt glared. “You made me want you."

  "No. I fanned the flame, but it was already there. You wanted me, just as I wanted you."

  "You?"

  "Yes. I can see now that I've been falling in love with you for some time. Finding out you could resist the call was just the proving point."

  "Love?” The word, said so casually, rang in Matt's befuddled brain. Wolfe loved him? Wolfe was a vampire. So what? said a tiny voice in his head.

  "Yes. Love."

  Matt shook his head. “You don't know me."

  "I know you. We've talked on the phone almost every day for the past two years."

  "I don't know you. I didn't know you were a vampire."

  "That's why I couldn't expect you to love me back. Not until I told you want I am.” He spread his hands out to the side, palms out and open, presenting himself. “That's why I'm here."

  Matt shrank back against an urge to fling himself into those arms. “L-last night...?"

  Wolfe's arms dropped, hands slapping his thighs. “I'd intended for us to have this talk last night. I...” He shook his head, looking sheepish. An absurd expression for such an exquisite creature. “I severely underestimated the effect of your presence on me. I lost control. Again, I apologize."

  I wanted to go slow. Please understand. Please understand that I need to have you. Wolfe's words echoed in Matt's memory, together with the heated cloud of lust and longing that had surrounded the moment.

  "Did you make me like that? Last night?"

  "Only a little. I promise. A little to get you to open the door, a little to make you relax, make you come—"

  Matt shivered at the memory.

  "—and a little to make you sleep the night."

  Matt's hand crept up to rub the back of his neck. “You bit me."

  Was it his imagination, or did Wolfe actually tremble? His hand reached out to clutch the counter beside him. “Yes. I did. Again, I'm sorry. But your taste...” His other hand hand came up to briefly cover his brow. “You can't imagine how good you taste, Matt. It defies description."

  Matt should have been creeped out. He knew that. The man was talking about drinking his blood. Just like the monster had drunk Daniel's blood. But for the life of him, Matt couldn't conjure the image of the vampire and Daniel. All he could remember was the spike of heat and the freefall into molten sensation that had followed the prick of Wolfe's bite.

  Unable to take in the enormity of what he was being told, he drew his knees up to his chest, bracing his heels on the edge of the couch and wrapping his arms around his legs. “I loved Daniel."

  "I know."

  "You lit the candles for him last night."

  "I did. A small tribute to his memory. He must have been very special."

  Tears trickled down Matt's cheeks. Stifling a sob, he pressed his forehead to his knees. “Shit! I don't know what to think."

  He felt Wolfe come closer, but not too close. The low table before the couch slid over the rug and creaked a little as a weight settled on it. “I don't expect a miracle tonight, Matthew."

  The sob escaped. Daniel used to say his full name just like that when things were especially serious. “What do you expect?"

  "I don't know. I love you,” continued that dreamy voice. “I'll wait. Or I'll let you go, if I must. Although I'm going to try my best to convince you to be with me."

  "What does that mean? ‘Be with you'?” He brought up his head, needing to see Wolfe's face. “Dating? Dying?"

  The vampire regarded him seriously from just a foot away. “Dating. Yes, I very much hope. Dying. Only if that's what you wish. No decisions have to be made now."

  "How can you expect me to trust you? You're a...” He shook his head, voice catching in his throat.

  Wolfe's lip trembled as he took another deep breath. “I don't expect you to trust me yet. How could you? I'll follow your lead, leave if you want me to.” He gripped his hands between his knees. “Just one thing that you need to realize is that you're safe. From my kind, at least. You have my protection whether you reject me or not. I've claimed you as my own, and none of my kind can touch you without dealing with me."

  The thought of such a claiming touched a chord in Matt's heart. He suppressed it for now. “And you're a big threat?"

  Wolfe smiled weakly. “I've been what I am for over a thousand years. I'm very old for my kind. Yes, I'm a threat."

  A thousand...? That was too much to contemplate. Matt shook his head. “I can't ... It's too much."

  Wolfe nodded. Stood. “I understand. I'll leave. Please, call me. When you're ready. I swear on anything you care to name that you're safe with me."

  Matt stared, unable to reconcile the beautiful man whom he loved with the monster he clearly was. Confusion and anger warred with fear, stopping any possible words in his throat.

  As though sensing this, Wolfe smiled sadly, nodded, turned, and left.

  * * * *

  The espresso machine hissed as Rod shut it off. Grinning, he grabbed the thick porcelain mug and turned to bring it to where Matt sat at the counter.

  Matt eyed the inky depths of the dark liquid as he brought the hot mug to his lips. Carefully he sipped. Then sputtered. He barely managed to set the mug down without spilling as the sharp, overwhelming taste made his eyes water.

  "Hmmm, too much espresso?"

  Matt laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe but ... what's spicy?"

  "Cayenne and cinnamon."

  Matt's jaw dropped. “Cayenne?"

  Rod leaned his elbows on the counter, lifting the same mug to his own lips. Matt watched him sip, then have a similar reaction. “Yeah, okay. Too much. So, my ‘Cajun Madness’ drink needs work.” He set the cup down, chuckling. “Back to the drawing board."

  "What's with the new drink anyway?” Matt folded his arms on the counter, adjusting his butt on the hard seat of the polished wooden barstool.

  Rod shrugged, reaching up to scratch at the buzzed auburn hair at the nape of his neck. “I like to try out different things every once in a while. Customers like it.” He laughed, green eyes dancing as they focused on Matt. “Okay, maybe not this one."

  Matt chuckled. Idly, he glanced over his shoulder. There were three other patrons in Rod's Koffee Hous, all students he'd seen before and all slumped in front of their laptops at individual tables. Rod stayed open faithfully until one nearly every night, catering to those who needed a comfortable place to study or chill. Matt had come to appreciate the cozy little getaway quite a bit in the past few months.

  "So, closing time's in about a half hour.” Rod's grin warmed as Matt faced him again. “Can I convince you to stick around after?"

  Matt smiled, blinking slowly. Rod was not only an attractive man, he'd also become quite a good friend in the short time they'd known each other. That Rod very much wanted to be more than just friends was a known quantity between them. Rod had been making thinly veiled—and some overt—overtures to Matt almost since the time they'd met. Matt had seriously considered the offers; however, memories of an absurdly gorgeous man with long black hair and intense green eyes—not to mention fangs—usually kept him from it. “Thanks. But..."

  "No,” Rod sighed, finishing for him. He stood. “One of these days, will you tell me more about this mysterious man that you're hung up on?"


  Matt had considered it. Rod should know, after all, about the man who'd helped him to acquire the Koffee Hous in the first place, but Matt had chosen to keep that little tidbit of information to himself. In this case, what Rod didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and not knowing the full truth would be safer for him. “Maybe someday."

  Rod screwed his lips into a confused frown. “Have you called him yet?"

  Matt focused on the paper napkin lying on the counter before him. “Not yet."

  "Are you going to?"

  Shredding the rough brown recycled paper, he nodded. “I think so. Yeah."

  Three months, two weeks, and four days since Wolfe had quietly left his apartment. Time enough for Matt to do a lot of soul searching. Time enough for him to work through fear, rage, and sorrow to emerge with shaky renewal. A lot had happened to him personally in that short time. He'd decided that he was just about ready to confront the thing foremost in his mind.

  Rod sighed. “Well, I hope it's nothing I've done to throw you back at him."

  Matt laughed. “No, it's nothing you've done. I just think I need to see him again."

  Rod nodded. “Closure. I get it.” He glanced toward the cash register, at the photograph pinned to the corkboard over it. Him and a taller man with short black hair, dark almond-shaped eyes, and a wide smile, arms around each other as they posed. “I had to do something like that for Henry. Although...” He shrugged.

  Matt nodded. “I know.” He reached over the counter and squeezed his friend's hand.

  He didn't need the rest of the sentence to know what followed. Henry, Rod's boyfriend, had been one of the other men killed the night Daniel died. That connection was the reason they knew each other. In the month following Wolfe's last visit, Matt had sought Rod out, wanting to see how other people Wolfe had “taken care of” were faring. It hadn't taken much to find Rod and the coffee house that he'd owned for a little over two years. Rod spoke of Henry often, always fondly, but clearly he'd gotten on with his life in a much healthier way than Matt had. Of course, Rod knew nothing of the vampires. As far as he knew, Henry had been molested and left for dead, as told by the official report. Matt saw no reason to tell him the real truth.