“Yes, yes. Now run along while I talk to my new friend.” The witch waved both of her hands at him, shooing him away.
“He can remain,” Philippe said quickly, reaching over to place a restraining hand on Rafe’s shoulder as he tried to rise from his chair.
“Oh no, my words are for your ears only. If you want to tell him after you leave here, that’s your business.”
“But he can hear what you have to say about my family?” Rafe demanded, but he was only teasing. Zelda could see it as clear as day.
“Out, boy! Out!”
With a roll of his eyes, Rafe pushed to his feet and threw Philippe one last reassuring smile. He didn’t want to leave, but Philippe was in safe hands. He crossed through the coffee house to the front door. A cold wind whipped through the city, carrying with it a hint of snow. Rafe’s lip curled at the thought. They’d spent the last two decades in South Carolina. Snow had been rare during those years. Now they were hunkered down in New England, where snow was a sure thing during the winter months.
What the fuck had Bel been thinking? And what the hell had they all been thinking by allowing him to choose this location? There had to be other people he could be near who were working on blood-borne illnesses.
Rafe moved away from the door and leaned against the wall, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He already had the texting app and Bel’s thread open before he’d realized what he was doing. He blinked twice at the date of the last text they’d exchanged. It had been days since they’d talked. That couldn’t be possible. He talked to Bel every day. Or at least he had.
The last time he could remember talking to Bel was when he’d been shot, but that had been…well, he wasn’t quite sure how many days it had been. Just a few, but that was still too many.
How goes the great cure? Rafe texted. Not his wittiest message, but he was fresh out of inappropriate images.
For a moment, he thought about capturing a picture of him and Philippe in bed together, assuming they’d ever have another moment like that again, and his stomach turned at the thought of sending it along to his brothers. He knew it had nothing to do with the fact that Philippe was a clan leader and they were supposed to be brokering an alliance. It had everything to do with the fact that Rafe did not want to share Philippe in any way.
Rafe leaned his head back against the brick wall and sighed. That was just a wonderfully complicated thought. Rafe didn’t do exclusives. He rarely did repeats. Occasionally someone would happen along who was entertaining enough to have for a second time, but there was no understanding that it was something more. It was only sex.
But from the first time Rafe’s lips touched Philippe’s, everything felt a hundred times more complicated.
Rafe didn’t do complicated. Didn’t do repeats. Didn’t do exclusives.
Fuck. Philippe checked all the boxes for the “this is a fucking bad idea” category.
Then why the hell was he standing outside in the freezing-ass cold, dying to get his hands on the man? He wanted to wrap his arms around him and hold him until this low-level sense of panic finally subsided.
Yes, he wanted to know what Zelda was telling Philippe. Yes, there was a part of him that was terrified she was telling him to run as far and as fast as he could away from Rafe. But he still wanted to know. He also wanted to be there to help Philippe sort through the information, assuming the old witch was able to tell him anything concrete.
The phone Rafe was still holding buzzed in his hand, jerking him from his dreary thoughts. He looked down at Bel’s reply.
Slow going as usual. How are things with Arsenault? Any luck?
Piper was killed. Still searching for murderer.
Bel’s reply was immediate. What can I do?
With those texted words came a rush of worry but also love. He could feel his twin’s concern and reassurance. Bel would always be there for him. No matter how important his research was, he was willing to drop everything to help Rafe.
Nothing for now. Meeting with Z in Boston right now. Will be home later tonight.
Witchcraft nonsense, Bel shot back, causing Rafe to snort.
Bel didn’t buy into all of Zelda’s magical claims, which was ironic since most of the things in their vampiric life could only be chalked up to magic. Bel stubbornly claimed that it was still a matter of science. They just didn’t understand it all yet.
Rafe didn’t give a shit if it was magic or science so long as they could get it to work in their favor.