“It seems far too convenient,” Arlonne pointed out, breaking through my thoughts, “that our enemies would discuss a surviving group of vampires in front of a prisoner, apparently unconscious or not. The hunters aren’t foolish enough to talk idly and let important information slip out.”
She had a point. The various nodding vampire heads around the table indicated that many agreed with her. If the rulers were as bad as everyone said, it seemed very possible that they would purposely let us know about the other group in order to set up a trap.
“I don’t know,” Bravi countered. “I’ve met some really stupid Immortals in my time. Regardless, going to find such a group would be a dangerous task.” Her serious gaze found mine. She’d guessed I would talk to Dorian soon. Since Bravi’s confession on the Chicago rooftop, I noticed she was more distant from Dorian. Still fiercely loyal, but she appeared happier to leave some Dorian business up to me. It was like having the world’s strangest blessing, but since it was Bravi, I felt honored.
I quickly finished my meal while the conversation drifted to the latest happenings at VampCon. I then excused myself, pausing to drop off my dirty dishes in one of the tubs left by the kitchen. It surprised nobody to see me leave. It was no secret that I sought out Dorian every evening, though some newer vampires seemed mildly amused or slightly unsettled by our relationship. Dorian sometimes skipped the dinner socializing hour due to late check-in meetings with Morag or Bryce. At least we’d received no open harassment from any of the vampires, beyond the scalding looks that Halla gave us whenever she saw the two of us together. Unfortunately for her, we’d been spending quite a lot of time in each other’s company.
We had grown increasingly close in the past few weeks, finally free to interact without the threat of the Bureau lurking over us. When we weren’t stealing kisses despite the low heartburn, much of our time was spent researching the Bureau archives, access kindly granted by our friend on the current board, Martin Fenton. The pickings were slim, with most of the archives locked behind firewalls and clearance that Louise couldn’t break through, even though it would look very good on her record as part of the investigation into the Bureau. So, Dorian took some time to tell me bits and stories of vampire lore and culture. Between the arrival of the new vampires and the fact that I was now publicly considered somewhat of a vampire expert, I figured I should know as much as possible if I expected to help our cause. Knowledge was power in an interdimensional conflict.
Right now, however, all I wanted to know was where Dorian had tucked himself away instead of coming to the mess hall. I’d seen him in the library just before my run this afternoon, enraptured by a book of Scottish history. If he wasn’t in the mess hall or library, then Dorian would be in his quarters. As the bedrooms were closer, I headed there first, planning to drop by the room I shared with Louise to pick up a hoodie. There was a chill in the evening air, and my well-exercised muscles were starting to tighten uncomfortably from the cold.
After retrieving the blue fleece-lined hoodie from my bed, I padded quietly down the hall toward the room Dorian shared with Sike. Peeking through the half-open door, I saw that Dorian was indeed there. He sat at his desk, staring out the window at the moor. The sunset behind the gray clouds made it dark outside, but his vision was better than mine. His strong shoulders looked broader than usual from behind. As I snuck up behind him, the weak shadows beneath the skin of his bare arms prompted a pang of worry within me. There would be dark circles under his eyes, too.
I hugged him from behind, resting my chin on the top of his head as I gave him a gentle squeeze.
Dorian jerked upward with an exaggerated gasp. “You scared me!”
I couldn’t help but laugh at him. At least I’d never have to worry about him lying to me. He was terrible at it.
The weakness of the burn in my chest at our proximity reinforced my concern that he hadn’t fed enough recently. He tipped his head back to see me, and a burst of pain pounded in my chest as he gave me a slight smile. The sensations rushed through me. I’d grown used to them by now, and in fact, the burst of pain reassured me that maybe he wasn’t as weak as I thought.
We’d never officially decided that Dorian’s starvation was worth it for us to be able to touch. He argued that it was easier for him to go hungry for long stretches of time, rather than risk me falling into a coma when we were close to one another. I’d told him it was intensely unhealthy for him to regularly starve himself for long periods. The bones of his face grew sharper, the muscles of his arms thinning, as the shadows beneath his skin faded by the day. The thought of him suffering like that made my heart hurt almost as much as the heartburn.
Our working agreement, partially unspoken, was that he would feed lightly when necessary. After his weakness in Chicago turned out to be a liability, he’d realized he couldn’t forgo it entirely and fed sparingly off the vampires who brought energy back from the Immortal Plane. He hadn’t gone himself, instead remaining at the camp to oversee the day-to-day operations, liaise with the researchers and Major Morag, and keep track of the international state of affairs regarding his people. Kane was in charge of the Immortal Plane missions, and that worked well for both of them.
Our compromise seemed to be working for now. He was definitely hungry, but not debilitated. My pain stayed at a bearable level. I could touch him. Our system was manageable when we weren’t in combat.
“I don’t know why you still try to surprise me. I recognized your footsteps at the other end of the hallway,” he confessed, taking one of my hands to press a kiss to the back of it.
I enjoyed the soft rumble of his voice through his chest, so I kept my arms around him. “Well, aren’t you perceptive?” I teased. “Are you saying I have a heavy step?”
He smirked. “Not heavy. Just your own,” he assured me, pulling me around into his lap to kiss me.
I gasped with pleasure and surprise, but as soon as it started, it was over, leaving a pleasant tingle on my lips. I wanted to close my eyes and savor it for the night… but there were more pressing matters.
“Have you heard about the Immortal Plane feeding party?” I asked, settling more comfortably into his lap.
He nodded slowly, a stitch of worry in his brow as he absentmindedly ran his thumb back and forth on my thigh. “From the start, we knew that this feeding arrangement wasn’t sustainable in the long term, especially not when we were using the same circle every time to travel between the planes. I’m trying to brainstorm other ways to get enough dark energy without damaging our chance for asylum. We’ve come too far to lose protection because of hunger.”
I stood, leaning against his desk to look out at the moor. The last scraps of light fading from the yellowish sky gave the world outside the fence an eerie, otherworldly presence. As if something were out in the mountains, watching us.
I turned my back on the tableau, refreshing myself as I took in Dorian’s glacial eyes, the soft tumble of his black hair. “And the rumors about the other survivors?”
“Could be promising,” he said, a note of hope in his voice. “Very promising. If there are other vampires out there in the Immortal Plane gathering together like we have here, we could form a resistance with them. Together, we would have more hope of being able to fight against the Immortals.”