Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 474(@300wpm)
The kid had steadfastly refused to give his parents’ names or tell where they’d all been staying. What little history they had on him had come out as the social workers had counseled Allhan over the first couple of months he’d stayed at Luchas House. The little peeks of his backstory with the abandonment had breached his silence only occasionally. For the most part, he’d stayed quiet.
He was still like that.
V cleared his throat and went for another hand-rolled. But he wasn’t going to smoke down here. It was just something for him to fiddle with. “There are Chosen who can come to you. Their blood is very pure. It will help make sure you… do well.”
“So that’s what you meant.” The kid pushed the plate away, with only a little rice left on it. “By choosing. A Chosen.”
As always, so factual, so literal. And like Allhan knew anybody or had any friends he could call on to feed from? Besides, V had just been trying to give the kid some decision over any part of his life. He sure as shit hadn’t picked getting left behind and being at the mercy of others.
“One’s already arranged. Sahsa is her name.”
“Will she have me, though?” Allhan wiped his mouth with a paper napkin carefully. “I know you would make the King order them to give me their vein, but I don’t—that isn’t right.”
V opened his mouth. Shut it. Like he should be surprised the kid knew him so well, though?
“They would be honored to provide the service to you.”
Allhan shook his head. “You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not. That’s what they’re there for. They serve the blood needs of brothers who can’t feed from their mates, and injured fighters as well. And they also help during transitions.”
Allhan met V’s eyes fully for once—and it was such a surprise, Vishous found himself sitting back in his chair.
“For truth?” came the suspicious prompt.
V nodded once. “I swear on my shellan’s life.”
Allhan released a long breath. “Okay, then.”
From over at the stairwell, the sounds of approaching voices and footfalls spilled into the cafeteria before the team entered, and you could just watch Allhan shut down, the locking of his features and body so complete, it was like he’d turned to stone where he sat.
“You done?” But V was already getting to his feet. “And I’m getting you some milk to go.”
Allhan nearly knocked his chair over as he scrambled to the vertical, and even though his hands were shaking—and it made the doggen uncomfortable because they preferred to bus the tables—the kid picked up his plate and carried it over to leave at the buffet’s serving window. The chef came out of the flap door immediately, but the kid was already wheeling away, his head down, his cheeks red like he’d been out in the cold.
V snagged a carton of milk from the drinks refrigerator and headed by the males and females who’d come down. No one stopped him to ask work-related questions. They all knew if he was with Allhan, he was going to bump them for however long the kid needed him. That was just the way shit was.
Back on the stairwell, it pained him to see how slow Allhan went on the ascent. It was clear his bones and joints were aching, but he never complained. Never asked for so much as a Tylenol. He just trudged upward, like he’d been long used to enduring.
When they stepped out into the first level, the kid went dutifully to his desk, sitting down again and going right back into those tables of names.
As V watched all that erstwhile concentration, he thought of how they never would have learned that Allhan was a computer genius if Luchas House’s common room Dell hadn’t ended up with a virus. Before anyone could call Four Toys HQ, Allhan had it fixed—and he’d created an additional security overlay outside the commercial one that had been installed by the staff.
V had been pissed that protocol had been broken and they hadn’t waited for someone from his team to get there, but when he’d seen what the kid had done, he’d been impressed.
A week later, he’d given Allhan a workstation. A week after that, he’d moved the kid over here, to this corner. A month after that, he’d issued an invite for Last Meal at his and Doc Jane’s quarters at the Wheel. And then another. And another. A shortage of beds at Luchas House had resulted in some couch surfing with them.
And that arrangement had quickly become permanent. To the point where neither he nor Jane could imagine their home without—
“Can I ask you something?” Allhan said softly as his eyes stayed on the screens.
“Anything.”
There was a period of silence. “Is… um, Lyric okay?”
Say what— “Lyric? Yeah, sure. Why—oh, from last night.”