Rare Vigilance (Whitethorn Agency)
The silence stretched between them and Atlas was positive Jasper would call him out on his less than subtle rebellion. He wasn’t outright refusing to uphold his end of the bargain, but demanding greater autonomy in their agreement could easily be taken as acting against Bryony’s wishes. So it was a surprise when Jasper hummed and said, “So be it. Enjoy tonight’s shift, Mr. Kinkaid.”
* * *
Jasper must have jinxed him, Atlas decided later that night as he faced off against Cristian in the billiards room. What should have been an easy shift was turned on its head when Cristian declared he wanted to return to Rapture.
“It’s too dangerous,” Atlas told him.
“It’s not,” Cristian said. “Even if the Wharrams are waiting for me to show up, there’s no point hiding from them. I won’t let them dictate how I live my life.”
His courage stole Atlas’s breath. “Mr. Slava,” he began, unsure how to argue such a point.
Andrei snorted from his chair in the corner and said, “He’s not that noble. He needs to go there so he can feed.” His lip curled as he looked over Atlas, lingering on his neck. “Unless you’re offering to be his donor again?”
Atlas shut his mouth, grabbed the keys, and waited while everyone else got ready for the night out.
On the ride over, Cristian was adamant Atlas not accompany him in the search for a donor. They engaged in a silent battle of wills in the rearview mirror, until Atlas gritted his teeth and told Ioana she’d cover the job. She didn’t argue, thank God. She was the only one of the crew Atlas trusted enough to leave alone with Cristian.
He reminded himself of that fact again as he watched Ioana and Cristian pass through the crowd downstairs.
“So every time he’s wandered off here, he’s been looking for someone to feed from?” he mused aloud from the balcony railing as he watched Cristian approach a lovely young woman near the edge of the dance floor.
Cristian leaned in close, whispered something in her ear, and Atlas tried to suffocate his irritation when her hands clutched at Cristian’s jacket lapels. The emotion didn’t abate as he watched Cristian lead the young woman toward the Staff Only door, Ioana following close behind to do the check of his partner.
“Not every time,” Dinu piped up from his comfortable sprawl across the booth bench. He’d been lying down with his head in Vasilica’s lap for most of the evening. He seemed perfectly content with the way she absently ran her fingers through his hair while scrolling on her phone. “But it’s better to feed when you start feeling hungry rather than waiting too long.”
Vasilica nodded. She was listening, even though she didn’t look it.
“I’ve never seen either of you go off before,” Atlas pointed out.
Dinu looked up at the same moment Vasilica glanced down. A lewd smile crossed her face as they watched each other, and she ran a finger teasingly against the tendon in Dinu’s neck. “That’s because we have each other,” she said.
Dinu grinned up at her. “Yeah. She’s the easiest.”
Vasilica gave a fake huff of outrage and pinched Dinu’s neck. He winced and sat up as he apologized. When he glanced over at Atlas, he laughed. “Oh, please. You don’t actually believe all of that human propaganda about how vampires can’t feed off each other, right?”
Andrei grumbled something that made Dinu’s eyes narrow when he glared over at the older man. “Well, thank fuck you don’t get to decide how much the human knows or doesn’t,” Dinu said to him.
Vasilica’s smile was all teeth and poorly concealed dislike. At least she was directing it at Andrei. “Atlas is part of the family now, remember? Or are you challenging Cristian’s direct order?”
Andrei threw back the rest of his drink and abandoned the balcony rather than argue further. It didn’t stop him from shoving a shoulder past Atlas on his way down the stairs, but not every battle could be won cleanly.
“Sorry about that,” Dinu said. “He’s a prick.”
“He doesn’t want you talking about that kind of stuff around me,” Atlas guessed.
“Doesn’t matter,” Vasilica declared. “And ignore Dinu’s teasing. Humans don’t know enough about our world to actually make propaganda. They just throw shit at the wall and hope something sticks.”
“Like how vampires feed?” Atlas asked cautiously.
Vasilica wrinkled her nose and waggled her hand to indicate partial agreement. “It depends on the kind of vampires involved. Born vampires like me have a more refined palate. Made vampires like Dinu here are...less discerning.”
“We can feed on almost anything,” Dinu bragged. “Fresh blood, bagged blood, human, vamp, it doesn’t matter.”
“You just prefer mine, you garbage can,” Vasilica cooed.
Dinu gave her a sappy look that Atlas wished he hadn’t seen. “I would never feed off anyone else,” he murmured.
Vasilica flushed, the first tim