Waking in the late afternoon, Lennon rolled over with the expectation of snuggling into Lyla. It would be the perfect early afternoon moment. A little love, a lot of cuddling and whispered words of adoration. This morning had been a mind blowing experience. Lennon had never been so casual, so slow and romantic. He was used to getting the job done to make his partner scream with pleasure but mostly because time never really permitted anything that took too long.

Yet it seemed with Lyla, he always had time. He wanted to take his time, to love every square inch of her body. There were a time and place for everything. The previous night had been a frenzy because they were lost to their emotions and desperately needed to reconnect. This morning had been about rekindling their love.

Searching over the cold sheets, Lennon opened his eyes to the empty bed. He frowned but knew she wouldn't have gone far. Lifting the sheets, Lennon rolled out of bed and pulled his pants on. The wicked creature that he was hoped that the scandalous woman he loved was somewhere in this house in nothing but a tiny pair of shorts or, better yet, nothing at all. He'd take her in whatever form but seeing all of her was incredible. The scars, the flesh, the curves, she was hauntingly beautiful, and he wanted all of her.

Lumbering through the corridor, Lennon glanced at the closed bedroom door. He wouldn't push. He wouldn't even mention it. That door would remain closed until Lyla wanted to open it and that's all there was to it.

The bathroom was empty. Lennon frowned at the odd scent, he detected bleach, but he couldn't pin what she'd used to clean the room. Because she'd done that. At some point this afternoon, Lyla had gotten out of bed and cleaned the bathroom. He'd not heard the vacuum cleaner, but he could see that she'd given the corridor a good clean as well.

Lennon shook his head, annoyed that she didn't wake him. He wanted to be helpful and not seem like a freeloader. She'd opened her home to him rather than finding a new place together, and he wanted to ensure that he did his fair share of the housework. It wasn't a new concept for him. Lennon kept the warehouse spick and span, not that it took a lot of work. Adley was a clean freak anyway so it was easy to do a few chores.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Lennon leaned down and picked up the mail that had been shoved through the slot. The lounge room was empty but looking clean too. It wasn't a mess, but Lennon had noticed that a few things were out of place. That day, that first night when they came here so that Adley could get Eloise's scent, Lennon had soaked in every part of Lyla's life. It's how he knew that things weren't right when they came back this morning. Lyla muttered something about Carson invading her life.

He wasn't sure if Carson would be responsible, but Lennon wouldn't put it past him either. The vampire liked to fill that damned book with as much information as he could manage, and if it meant that he had to break into someone's house to get the dirt, then he'd do it.

Lennon walked into the kitchen, finding Lyla at the breakfast table. It was a booth tucked into the back of the room with a large window overlooking the neglected garden. Before the nightmare, it was a garden full of healthy vegetables and a couple of fruit trees. Now it was an overgrown mess that had been forgotten. Dumping the mail on the counter, Lennon moved to the table. Sitting down on the other side of the table, he looked at the drawn out woman in front of him. She'd fed last night, voracious as always. Right now, though, it looked as if she hadn't fed in weeks. Her skin was pale, highlighting the vast network of veins.

A tear slipped out, sliding over the dark purple skin. Not only did she look underfed, but Lyla also looked incredibly tired.

"I opened the door."

Lyla offered a smile that was forced and filled with more pain than she thought was possible.

"Maybe it's too soon?"

"Maybe," she whispered.

Stretching out his hand, Lennon turned it over. It was a simple gesture full of meaning. Lyla took it and wilfully tried not to cry.

"I thought that if I opened the door and then closed it, I'd take the first step. You know, baby steps."

Lennon silently nodded. Baby steps were ideal, but not so soon after her death.

"I mean, she could have food or trash in there. I should check, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah. I'll send Adley a message and ask, okay?"

Lyla nodded, grateful for the suggestion.

Adley would know. He was in there. He'd turned the room over, searching for the right scent, so if there was something that needed to be thrown out, he'd tell her.

Lennon tapped out the message, imparting a little more than necessary to give him context. Just asking if there was rubbish in Eloise's bedroom would result in Adley calling him for an explanation, and he didn't want that. Adley always called. He rarely messaged so it was odd that he returned with a message.

Adley didn't take long before responding, telling Lennon that there was nothing that would spoil, but if Lyla was going to enter the room, he might want to go in first. Specifically, the top drawer of her nightstand. He said condoms that night, but there was more that he wanted to say but didn't, knowing that Lyla was hurting. Adley had stormed out of the house that night, wanting to start the search straight away. He'd intended to shake some sense into the girl but never got the chance.

The werewolf also warned Lennon that if he was the one to clear the drawer out, to be careful. He didn't want a fight to break out if Lennon took too long. Lennon didn't understand what Adley meant by the statement and questioned him. Adley responded again, stating that he needed to make a fire pit in the backyard and have it going. To get the contents that could be burned and do it without taking too much time. There were photos, and they were not what Lyla would want to see. If Lennon looked at them, he risked enraging Lyla and Adley didn't want that. He hated that it was in his memory and wanted to dispose of the vision. It only remained because he knew that he had to give the warning. Now that it was said, he'd drop the thoughts. He would remember the drawer and that there was something terrible inside but beyond that, he'd have nothing. It was for the best; he didn't want to remember those pictures.