Carlos

"That your guy?"

Ian holds out his phone, showing me the feed from his doorbell cam. In the video, John frowns and rings the bell again, his eyes shining with unnatural light in the camera's night vision.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Want me to get rid of him?"

Sighing, I down the last gulp of my energy drink, set my game controller aside, and get to my feet. "Nah. I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

I'm reassured when Ian follows me, anyway.

At the door, I pause for a breath and rehearse a few choice lines in my head before I open it. John stands in the blue-gray predawn light on the other side, while David lurks in the shadows at the edge of the path a few paces back.

"Carlos."

His voice is a low, raspy growl. He reaches for me and I take a step back, wondering if the thing about vampires needing to be invited in is real or not, and if it applies to John.

John, meanwhile, lets his hand drop to his side and sags with relief at the sight of me, and I feel a twinge of guilt.

I panicked — understandably, in my opinion — but from John's perspective, I vanished on the one night I was at particularly high risk of getting murdered.

"John. How did you find me?"

He rubs a hand over his mouth and jaw in a characteristic gesture. "I tracked your scent."

"You can do that?"

"Not usually. If I could, I'd have closed every missing person case on file by now."

"So... how am I different?

John swallows. "You're different because... you belong to me."

I scoff. "And you wonder why I ran away."

"No, I don't wonder. I know why you ran away. You're scared. I'm scared, too."

I laugh again. "Okay. But somehow, I don't think we're scared of the same thing."

John meets my eyes and speaks with a solemn sincerity I can't ignore.

"I'm scared of losing myself. And I'm scared of losing you."

"Yeah, well, I'm scared of being eaten."

"Are you, really?"

His tone and expression beg me for honesty, and I frown. What is this? Couples' therapy at five in the morning on someone else's doorstep? Maybe being single isn't so bad after all.

"You know what? No, that isn't what really scares me. What scares me is this." I gesture between us and include David in the sweep of my hand. "What scares me is losing control. Losing... What do you call it? Agency. Someone else controlled my life for most of it. I couldn't leave my aunt because I thought she was the only one who could keep me safe. She made all the decisions; she named my uses and my worth. I'm still learning those things for myself. Right now, whatever this thing is between us, it's not good for me. And I don't know if it ever will be."

"Carlos, I don't want to control you. I just want to protect you until this thing is over."

"I don't need your protection." I nod over my shoulder at Ian and Sam. "I got plenty."

John frowns unhappily. "No wonder you weren't as freaked out by the idea of vampires as you should have been. I take it you've introduced me already. Care to return the favor?"

I move aside a little, allowing a more direct line of sight into the house and giving my friends the opportunity to say as much or as little about themselves as they please.

Ian takes the lead, though he stays where he is and doesn't offer to shake hands. "Ian Foley. I'm from a Shifter clan. My form's a bear."

"I'm Sam." He lifts a hand. "Demon-human hybrid. Long story."

John's eyes flick between them. "I'm beginning to see what the chief meant about this town. Anyone else I should know about?"

"I got other friends, yeah," I say, "but it's not my place to give away secrets that aren't mine."

"Maybe you'll introduce me to them someday," John says, and I hear the hint of hope in his tone.

"Maybe."

I suspect, at the very least, that the Hunter Pack will want to know there are hunters of a different kind in their territory. They'd been wary enough of me, at first, after learning of my family history. I didn't think any Martinez had ever gone after werewolves, but I couldn't be sure, and I wouldn't be all that surprised if one had.

"Carlos..."

"Look," I say, interrupting him before he can say something to change my mind. "It's almost dawn. The window for the ritual is closing fast, and I'm perfectly safe here. It's not like I'm gonna skip town, and apparently you could find me even if I did. So go home. Give me some space, okay? That's all I'm asking right now."

John takes a breath, and I can tell he wants to argue. I can also tell he's primed to lose control again if provoked. His eyes shine with a golden glow, and his teeth — while not quite fangs — are noticeably long and sharp. Ian and Sam seem to sense it, too, and Ian rests a hand on my shoulder with a soft, bearlike grunt of reassurance.

This, unfortunately, is a mistake.

John's eyes flick to the spot where Ian touches me, and a look of feral rage contorts his face. His muscles bunch for a spring, and his lips draw back in a snarl.

A flash of golden light illuminates the scene, and John falls back with a startled expression. Behind him, even David looks impressed.

I glance over my shoulder and see my suspicion confirmed in Sam's partial transformation. His clothes stretch comically tight over a taller, bulkier frame. His skin is gold, his eyes are blood red, and his silky black hair falls to his waist. A pair of short, spiral horns sprout from his brow and sharp fangs gleam as he smiles and gives the vampires a nod of acknowledgement. In his full Ainasyan form, he has wings, but they're not exactly in-door accessories, and the partial shift is impressive enough.

"You heard the man," he says, his voice deeper and rougher than before. "He knows how to get in touch with you, doesn't he? I'm sure he'll call you if he wants to talk."

"Come, John," David says, intervening at last. "Your bonded is safe, and clearly in good hands. It's time to go. The sun is nearly up, and I don't tan well, as you know."

Reluctantly, John surrenders and allows himself to be led away, though he shakes David off in annoyance and stalks to his car with his shoulders tense. When he reaches it, he looks back at me, and even from that distance, I sense the longing in his gaze.

"Call me," he calls. "When you're ready. Please. And stay safe."

"I will."

He nods, drags his eyes from me with a visible effort, climbs behind the wheel and slams the door. With far more grace, David follows suit, and then John guns the engine and roars away with the reckless speed of someone who knows for a fact he has no chance of getting a traffic ticket.

Sam regains his human form as silence returns, his skin pale and his almond-shaped eyes a deep black-brown once more.

"Well, Carlos," he says, "he's hot; I'll give him that. Otherwise, I'm not sure if I should say congratulations, or ask if you wanna play 'pin the red flag' on the guy."

I look after John's vanished vehicle and sigh, as relieved that he left as I am disappointed that he's gone.

"I'll let you know when I decide," I say.

~ ★ ~

Later that morning, after the sun is full and safely up, and the night of the ritual has passed, Ian drives me home to the garage.

Gravel crunches beneath his truck's tires as he pulls into the work yard and parks.

The parking brake creaks as he steps on the pedal, and he shuts off the engine.

"You don't have to come with me," I say, pulling my backpack from the back seat of the cab. "I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will. But two sets of eyes are better than one, and you've only got one good arm. I'll just have a sniff around. Make sure nobody's been here while you were gone."

"Thanks, Ian," I say, suddenly realizing how grateful I am for the gesture. "You're a good friend."

He takes my backpack from me and slings it over his own shoulder, ruffling my hair. "Yeah, yeah. And you're a pain in the ass, but we love ya anyway."

Thankfully, everything is as I left it, and Ian detects nothing unusual. His senses are less keen in his human form than they are as a bear, but his human form is less apt to draw attention. Bears aren't unusual in Spring Lakes, but Ian's resembles a grizzly, a species which has been extinct in this state for nearly a century. I don't want to have to explain why one might be wandering around outside my shop.

"Place seems secure," he says, inspection complete. "You sure you wanna stay here, though? I mean, you're still renting from a lady who might want to kill you, remember?"

"I haven't forgotten. But the less Lucille suspects I know, the better. Besides, she's like eighty years old. What's she gonna do? Beat me with her cane?"

Ian sighs. "Carlos, be real. You're from a family of demon hunters, you're friends with an encyclopedia's worth of supernaturals, and there's a vampire after your ass, if not your heart. You should know things aren't always what they seem. Besides, from what you described, what happened to Kyle took some effort. If the old lady has anything to do with it, she's either stronger than she looks, or she had help."

"I'll be fine," I say. "The next ritual's not for another two weeks, assuming the Feast of Blood was even performed. I'm safe until then, at least."

"If you say so." He casts a last look around the garage and scuffs his boot over a crack in the concrete floor. "Oughta get that fixed 'fore it spreads," he says, clearly reluctant to leave me on my own.

"Yeah," I agree. "Unfortunately, one condition of the lease is that I can't make any changes to the place without Lucille's permission, including repairs."

"Have you asked about this? A crack like this means you got a weak foundation. Could be a pocket of soft soil, could be erosion. Either way, if it spreads, it could compromise the whole structure. Then you're in big shit. County could condemn the whole thing, 'specially since it's zoned as commercial. It's worth having someone come an' take a look, anyway."

Being in the construction business, Ian should know what he's talking about, and I eye the crack with renewed suspicion. "You know, it does look bigger than it did before. I guess I could—"

A whole rack of socket wrenches drops from the wall, landing with a clatter that has me jumping out of my skin and practically into Ian's arms, like a character in an old cartoon.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Yeah." I catch my breath and step away from him. "Guess you're right, though. Kyle seems to agree with you, anyway."

"Kyle? Is he here now?" Ian glances around nervously.

I look askance at the corner where, as long as I don't look directly at him, I can see Kyle watching us.

"Yeah. I'm not alone after all, see?"

To my surprise, Ian seems a little creeped out by the idea and leaves pretty quickly after that.

I follow him out and wave as he drives off, feeling a stab of loneliness as his truck vanishes from sight. For a while I just stand there, feeling the mid morning sun on my face and the breeze in my hair, and letting thought swirl around my brain like a flock of restless birds.

My phone buzzes and I pull it out to check. I've got two notifications. One is from a random app, offering me a special bonus deal because...

Fuck. What a depressing way to remember a birthday. Especially my own.

The second is a text from John. My heart leaps a little, despite myself, but the message is unsentimental, short, and to-the-point.

No deaths reported last night. All public areas in town are clear. Need your expertise. Please advise if ritual must take place outdoors.

I hesitate, both a little happy that he asked, and a little unsure what to make of the businesslike tone. I decide to match it — colleague to colleague — and ignore everything else for now as I type my reply.

Yes. The same place as the first would be best. Otherwise, nearby in a significant location.

I hit send and wait. After a moment, the three dots appear, telling me John is typing. Then they stop. Then they start again, then disappear. Finally, I accept he's not going to reply, pocket my phone, and blow out a breath as I run a hand through my hair.

I did ask him for space.

On the one hand, it looks like the Feasts might be a dead end, and between Kyle's ex-girlfriend and Lucille, we've got plenty of leads. On the other hand, my aunt is missing and my love life is on the rocks.

I shake my head at myself. "Tonto. You're so desperate for someone to love you, to have what Ian and Sam have, and when it comes along, you freak out and push it away."

I sigh and watch as a trio of crows fly overhead and disappear among the trees on the other side of the road. Then I head back inside to clean out the ten-day-old trash and the rotten food in the fridge, which Ian was too polite to mention smelled like absolute fucking shit.

Happy birthday to me.

---

Notes

tonto/a = fool