CHAPTER TEN -  DANGEROUS

Ryder kept glancing over at Grayson. Now that the young man wasn’t in terror for his life, spattered with blood or unconscious, Ryder could truly see him. Grayson was beautiful, definitely. He had a powerful jaw and high cheekbones. While very masculine, there was a delicacy about some of his features. Especially his mouth, which was very emotive. 

Whenever Grayson felt something, he was sure to do something with his lips that would give it away. Ryder dragged his gaze away from those lips when he imagined them parting in a moan of pleasure. He really did need more blood. He was still acting like the newest of fledglings around Grayson.

If only the young man were just beautiful and nothing more. A pretty package usually concealed an empty box. But Grayson was hardly empty. He had much going on behind that lovely facade. 

They walked in silence together through Nightvallen’s gracious, curving streets. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but a companionable one. Ryder liked that Grayson did not feel the need to fill the space with words. He seemed more to be absorbing the city and the Ever Dark overall. 

Grayson had stopped dead in his tracks to look up at the double moons, staring at them for a full five minutes, full lips parted softly as he gazed upon them in awe. He’d studied the architecture and stopped as well to look into the lit buildings. Some of them were the shops that were to be open for the students. Inside, staff were busy filling the shelves with good things to eat, fascinating books to read or fine clothes to wear. 

Ryder did not understand the need to have such shops. The students wouldn’t need money to buy anything. Everything was provided free of charge. He supposed Balthazar and Caemorn had wanted Nightvallen to seem a little more like a human city in that there were cafes to sip coffee at or wine bars to satisfy the snobbiest palate. There was even a brewery, which had quite good malt beer and a distillery that produced a smooth yet fiery whisky that Grayson was rather fond of. Every shop was actually a part of a Vampire owned business on Earth so they’d had plenty of time to hone their craft.

In between formal “classes”, the students would be free to roam and take in the town together or with a Vampire who asked them out. It would almost be like dating. Ryder shuddered. To “date” humans to discover if they were to join one in eternity was the epitome of shallowness in his opinion. 

One year and a few cups of coffee to know if someone was one’s Childe? Ridiculous! And to have the pool limited to those chosen by Balthazar Ravenscroft and Caemorn Losus? Even more absurd! As impressive as those two Vampires were, they did not have the same sensibilities as any Weryn. Eyros and Kaly Vampires were not known to even seek others of their own Bloodline for company, let alone care what the rest of their Bloodline thought about any particular Children they wished to turn. They simply couldn’t understand Weryn’s ways.

“It reminds me a little of London,” Grayson finally said as he took in one of the curving highstreets.

“Yes, I can see that similarity,” Ryder agreed, happy to be distracted from his thoughts.

“My mom told me that London is set up to be a very walkable city. The buildings are a certain height so that they draw the eye, but don’t overshadow the street. It really looks just like that here,” Grayson answered. He then bit his lip as if surprised and a little dismayed he had said so much. 

“Did you visit London or live there?” Ryder asked.

Again, Grayson bit his lower lip, but he reluctantly answered, “Visited. My mother was English. We had some relatives there. They’re all gone now.”

Gone. Dead? Or simply not interested in being connected to Grayson because of his powers?

“Are your parents--”

“I don’t want to talk about them.” Grayson grimaced. Again, that mouth betrayed the young man.

“All right.” Ryder tried not to appear nettled. 

Speaking of one’s family, one’s connections, whether by blood or by choice was important to Weryn. It was important to him. It anchored a person in the warp and weave of things. Grayson was like a loose thread. So what should Ryder care if he would withhold his past? 

But he, obviously, isn’t one of us and won’t be, Ryder remanded himself. I’m judging him by a standard that is unfair.

Grayson continued to bite his lower lip and he was staring at the cobbled road with anxiety. Suddenly, he burst out, “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“You were… clear about what you are willing to discuss. I would rather that than lies,” Ryder attempted to unbend.

Grayson’s eyes flickered to him and then away then, taking in a deep breath as if the gird himself for battle, the young man rushed out, “My dad died when I was three. I don’t remember him. He… he was a good guy or so I heard. Mom remarried someone not so good. Things went wrong.” 

Things went wrong. There could be a novel read into that single sentence.

There was a pause here and Ryder saw a flash of despair on Grayson’s face that was so raw it hurt to see. Now he wished he hadn’t asked--and hadn’t been offended--about Grayson’s family. This was not easy to discuss for Grayson obviously. 

“I left home when I was just a kid,” Grayson continued. “Lived on the streets. Did what I had to do to survive.” 

Again, another novel in those few words. A whole series of tragic adventures.

Another pause, and Ryder truly wanted to kick himself. His protective instincts towards Grayson--which seemed to be constantly triggering when he wasn’t hungering for the young man--were blaring on high alert now. He should have left things alone! 

“But I managed. Got the job at the store. The apartment above. I was… was surviving, you know, until… until what happened with Gregory and the Sect,” Grayson finished.

Surviving is not thriving.

What Grayson had told him was a bare bones, barely there, recital of a life that Ryder guessed had been far from easy. A life with powers, a life on the streets, a life of surviving was hardly a life at all. No friends. No family. Hiding who he truly was and what he could do.  Only to have even that paltry bit of peace and comfort ripped away from him by a bunch of Vampires in a spray of blood and gore. 

Yet, his life was not what it should have been before we entered it. Would it have improved? Or would Grayson have lived a desperate, empty life with no one else in it?

“So now that you know about me, what’s the deal about you?” Grayson’s light pewter eyes slid to him again.

“What do you wish to know?” Ryder asked, feeling a bit at a loss at giving his biography.  Then remembering that humans were often fascinated by a Vampire’s age stated, “I am 484 years old.”

Grayson let out a laugh and gave him a quick, amused glance this time. “So you’re too old for me, is that what you’re saying?”

Ryder colored. He hadn’t blushed in ages. “No, I… that was not why I was informing you. I am aware that our immortality interests mortals. I thought that you would want to know that.”

“Interests? Yeah, I guess. I mean, it is pretty cool thinking that you’ve lived so long and seen so much. But the one thing that always threw me was how you could ever be interested in a human,” Grayson said.

Ryder frowned as he studied Grayson’s rather elegant jaw. “Why?”

“The age gap. We all must seem like kids to you.”

Ryder shrugged. “Some perhaps. But have you not met someone younger than you who seems wise beyond their years?”

Grayson slowly nodded and nibbled on that tempting lower lip. “Yeah, but that’s normally something earned from a hard life.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Uh, so you’re a Weryn Vampire, right? You can turn into animals? I mean I saw you do that, which was pretty cool, by the way,” Grayson said with a shy smile.

“Yes, I am Second of House Legion. I am representing the Weryn Bloodline at the academy,” Ryder answered and shut his mouth after that. 

He felt the urge to share with Grayson since Grayson had shared with him, but Weryn Bloodline business was not necessarily the best thing to discuss. Yet Grayson seemed to hone right on in it.

“What you said to Balthazar, something about it not mattering if you read the rules or not, are you not like a part of the school? Not going to pick your humans or whatever from the class?” Grayson asked.

Ryder grimaced, but even though this young man seemed to have no desire to become a Vampire, perhaps it was best he knew exactly where Ryder and Weryn overall stood. It was strange though that his stomach seemed to curdle in his chest a little as he thought that.

“The Weryn do not pick our fledglings from a pool of candidates,” Ryder’s voice sounded frosty even as he said it. “There is a spiritual connection between ourselves and the ones we turn. They are not just becoming our Children, but the Children of the Weryn. They are pack.”

Grayson’s eyebrows rose. “You sound more like shifters than Vampires, or at least, how shifters are described in the books. Are there real shifters?”

“We are likely what those stories are based on. A sort of legend that was passed down,” Ryder admitted. 

“So you’re not going to choose anyone from the school?” Grayson clarified.

Ryder shook his head. “We are here to honor the king, but we will not be made to abandon our traditions and what matters to us to make the humans feel at ease.”

Grayson’s eyebrow rose. “That honoring the king thing though… Daemon wants this, right?”

Ryder’s expression grew blank as he remembered his experience with the Vampire king. It had been heady and overwhelming. Daemon was truly their leader. 

“So don’t you worry about pissing him off by not choosing someone? Or are you just going to never take on another fledgling forever and ever?” Grayson asked.

Ryder blinked. “He… he understands our position.”

“But he doesn’t like it, right? He doesn’t accept it? After all, not doing something your king wants sounds treasonous or something, isn’t it?” Grayson asked with a blithe wave of one hand through the air.

For all of Grayson’s easy words, he had said exactly what Ryder had feared from the beginning. Was there some way to honor Daemon, but not do what he wanted? They were attempting to thread that needle. Grayson sounded like he didn’t think it was possible It was easy for him to think that the young man’s words meant nothing since he clearly didn’t understand all the nuances. Or, it could be that the answer was so obvious that even someone barely considering it knew the truth and that the Weryn were tying themselves into knots thinking there was a way to disobey their king without disobeying. 

“We hope that Daemon will come to understand our position better in time,” Ryder said stiffly.

Grayson stopped outside one of the clothing stores. There was a man placing some more clothing options with the academy’s crest on it. There was a long black coat with popped collar, casual tops that skimmed the wearer’s form and flared out at the bottom, cotton trousers that had the crest running down the outside edges, and more. There were even shoes with laces with the crest, socks with the crest and underwear with the crest.

“So I’m really the only one going to be dressed like this,” Grayson said darkly.

“There appear to be a variety of styles with crests. Yours is--”

“Balthazar’s choice. I didn’t get an option. He chose this. He really does have a uniform fetish.” Grayson chuckled and shook his head, the annoyance leaving him as fast as it had come.

“You look… quite handsome,” Ryder said.

“I look like a preppy--”

“You always look beautiful. Even if you were wearing a sack you would be beautiful,” Ryder said.

Grayson’s eyes widened and his lips parted. “Oh… that’s… uhm, thanks? I guess. I wouldn’t mind wearing some of what you’ve got going on.” 

He pointed at Ryder’s coat.  Ryder touched the buttery soft material. It was worn in just the right places. He imagined taking it off and sliding it onto Grayson. He imagined his scent mixed with Grayson’s. The young man being warmed by the remnants of his own heat.

Grayson said, “I really liked the one with the fur on the collar you had on before.”

“So did I.” Grayson sighed. “A victim of the shift. But I have others.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s cool. It looks good on you… even without a shirt,” Grayson remarked and quickly looked away.

Ryder’s eyes widened. “Well, I shall… consider that next time I choose my outfit.”

Grayson ducked his head and looked up at him through dark lashes. The scent of arousal washed off of him. “Cool.”

The moment stretched. The twin moons played warm red and icy blue over the young man’s face. The urge to simply reach out and touch that gilded cheek. He could curve his hand along Grayson’s jaw and draw the young man to him. Those expressive lips would part--whether to object or to submit--would not matter as the pleasure of their first kiss would wash all of Grayson’s doubts away. 

He was hungry. So very hungry. Grayson was here. So very here. They were alone. They were both wanting something. Why not satisfy his lust and thirst? Why resist this young man’s allure? He had done more for less. 

Why does this feel familiar and yet so very dangerous? Ryder wondered. 

But he knew why. His desire was not his own. It was the predator’s inside of him. Every Vampire knew that there was a thin line of control. And to cross that line was forbidden. Yet maybe he would just be skirting that line if he crushed Grayson to him and carried the young man back to his rooms. There he would lay the young man out on his bed in a room lit just by firelight and strip off these foolish clothes. Grayson would look well against the furs his bed was piled with.  Those pewter eyes would go black with desire as Ryder drew his mouth all over that beautiful, exposed skin and then--

“I wish I was an Eyros,” Grayson said.

His words broke the spell that seemed to hang over Ryder. He blinked rapidly and looked away from the young man. “Oh, why?”

“Your expression went blank for a second there, but it was clear you were thinking something. Was it interesting?” Grayson asked.

“I was… just thinking about what I have to do tonight.” Ryder’s lips firmly shut over his very sharp and extended fangs. 

“Huh.” It was clear that Grayson did not believe him.

“Come. We need to get you to the student living quarters.” Ryder turned and strode firmly away from the dangerous shop window.

They turned a corner into a larger, more palatial avenue than even the last one. At the end of the street were the student living quarters. It was a four-story rectangular building that stretched a whole city block. There was a wide set of stairs leading up to several brass and glass doors. Golden light spilled out from the atrium. Students  and assistants were streaming into the building. There was excited talking and laughter. The smell of their blood came over Ryder in a wave, but, despite being hungry, he felt no desire for all those warm and willing humans.

“Whoa,” Grayson breathed.

Ryder turned around. Grayson had stopped again and that lush mouth was parted in surprise. 

“My understanding is that you will have your own room, but it is a quad, meaning that you share the common living room, dining room and kitchen,” Ryder said.

“For a man who didn’t read the 500 page email attachment.” Grayson was smirking.

Ryder smiled. “I know as much of Nightvallen as it will allow me to know.”

“Allow you?”

“The Ever Dark is… not like Earth. It is alive somehow. I cannot explain it.  The city changes,” Ryder said.

Grayson’s eyes widened. “That’s not been in the news.”

“No, many things have not,” Ryder replied dryly. 

“They don’t know that, do they?” Grayson tilted his head towards the students.

“No, but they are here nonetheless. Some of them might even guess that we are hiding much from them, but they don’t turn away,” Ryder said with a grimace.

“They must think that what they know is greater than anything they don’t,” Grayson surmised. 

“For some that may be true, but for most? And we are supposed to find our Children among them?” Ryder shook his head.

“Gregory made it pretty clear to me that the Sect got other people into the academy,” Grayson said as he stared at the students with a darkened brow.

Ryder frowned. “That seems so unlikely to me with the Eyros guarding us.”

“I know. But…” Grayson turned determinedly to Ryder. “Balthazar said that I was to pretend to be a student here while he and the others figured out who these Sect people are and what their plan is.”

Ryder lifted his eyebrows. “He did?”

“Yeah, and I admit that for a moment I thought that I could sit back and let him and whoever do that, but you and me actually fought them,” Grayson pointed out.

“Yes, but that hardly makes us experts,” Ryder pointed out. “They bear no mark that identifies them as Sect and we cannot read their minds. We won’t know who  they are unless they decide to stick a knife between our ribs.”

“Maybe, though they are likely to do that so shouldn’t we be looking to take them out first?” Grayson countered.

Again, Ryder lifted his eyebrows. But why was he surprised. Grayson, for all his beauty and fragility as a human, was a warrior. He’d sensed it--smelled it--at the church and there was a faint whiff of it here and now coming off of him.

“Perhaps, but that seems like more reason for you to keep yourself safe, not seek out trouble,” Ryder said.

“Trouble comes to me. It always has.  And I’ve never been able to count on anyone to keep it away.” Grayson gritted his jaw. His gaze was distant as he clearly remembered something from his past, maybe a bunch of somethings. Then he focused on Ryder. “I have an idea.”

“That sounds dangerous.” But Ryder found himself grinning.

“You need a way for Daemon to overlook the fact that you’re not playing by his rules with the fledgling thing,” Grayson said. “And I need help against the Sect of Dawn. So… why don’t you help me get them.  The two of us work pretty well together. If anyone asks while you’re interested in spending so much time with me,  you tell them that--”

“I’m interested in you as a fledgling?” Ryder’s eyebrows really did shoot up this time. He had no idea how he felt about people even thinking he was looking for a Childe.

“If we can find out who the spies are for the Sect in here, that will impress Daemon and maybe make him more forgiving about anything else you’re failing to do. And it will give me my life back faster,” Grayson said.  

“As I said, this sounds dangerous.”

Grayson’s pewter eyes narrowed. “They killed Charlie. A harmless old man who hadn’t hurt anyone. Alcohol was the reason he was out on the streets. They cut him down like he was nothing.  So dangerous is just fine in my book.”

Ryder thought then that Grayson sounded awfully like a Weryn right then. But he kept that to himself. 

“All right,” Ryder said slowly. “I agree to help you with your dangerous plan.”

“Good.” Grayson flashed a smile. “Now let’s go meet some of the suspects.”