Darkest Hour Before Dawn Page 14

  A thought occurred to him. "You curse a lot," he grumbled. "Don't roll your eyes at me, Dom--Dominic."

  "Your observation skills are outstanding, and don't call me that. Who are you, my mother?" Dom turned him to face the kitchen cabinet. He took hold of the back of Seb's neck, his thumb stroking his skin. "Hey, look at me," Dom said softly.

  Seb did. Or tried to.

  "This is for your own good, okay? Just remember, I love you."

  "I love you too." Dom was a good guy. He was always looking out for Seb.

  One minute Seb was smiling at Dom, the next he was drowning in icy water. He scrambled for purchase on the counter, but the water made his hands slip. The ice chilled his body, and his face was frozen, or so it felt. He slapped at the back of his head where Dom's hand was as he held Seb's head underwater. Seconds later, Seb gasped and sputtered, drawing in a lungful of air before he was plunged back down into the water. It took Seb three dunks before he was pushing Dom away. Seb reeled back, away from Dom and the sink, shivering from the cold.

  "Fuck. Asshole! What the... what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to kill me?"

  "No," Dom spat out, tossing him a towel. "You were doing a pretty good job of that yourself, dumbass."

  "What?"

  Dom motioned to the island counter littered with empty beer bottles.

  Shit. Okay. "That was stupid," Seb admitted, drying himself, then his hair.

  "No shit." Dom's expression softened as he studied Seb. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

  Seb shook his head, his lips pressed together to keep it all in. He didn't want to think about it, but all he could do was fucking think about it. For hours he'd tried calling Hudson, leaving voice mails, texting him, pleading, and then it all sank in. Numb was good, but he wasn't numb anymore. Every scar he had was torn open, a gaping wound of putrid flesh spreading sickness through him. His body shook, and the back of his shoulder burned. It wasn't just his pain he was feeling; it was Hudson's. It was excruciating, like his insides were trying to tear him apart. His inner Felid woke with a roar, threatening to come to the surface. It paced furiously, hissing and clawing. Seb groaned and forced himself to walk. He ran for the door, Dom chasing after him.

  "Where the hell are you going?"

  Seb threw open the front door and listened. It was faint, barely there, and if it hadn't been so late at night, he wouldn't have heard it. The mournful howl shook him down to his soul, and there was nothing he could do about it. Inside him, his Felid half answered his mate's call with a roar of its own, one so fierce and raw that it tore through Seb's mouth, an unhuman cry echoing through the empty street. Throat raw, Seb slumped against the door, tears blurring his vision.

  "Come on, buddy. Let's get you inside." Dom gently tugged at Seb's arm, and Seb followed.

  "Seven years," Seb whispered, dropping down onto the couch beside Dom. "Seven. Fucking. Years. He kissed me. He kissed me. We.... He... he let me feel him, touch him.... It was so damn good, just like it used to be. He felt so good, and for a second, I believed....

  "He kissed me, Dom. He let me hold him, let me.... Fuck. It was beautiful. He was beautiful, vulnerable, giving himself to me. He held my hand at the supermarket. He was happy, and he laughed and smiled, and the walls were crumbling."

  "What happened?"

  "We ran into Mrs. Palmer at the supermarket. She was so.... It didn't go well."

  "Fuck." Dom raked a hand through his hair, his own eyes glassy when he met Seb's gaze.

  The heartache in Dom's eyes was too much for Seb, and a sob racked his body. "It's over. This time, it's really over."

  Dom pulled him into his arms, and Seb buried his face against his best friend's shoulder, soaking in all the comfort he could get. He didn't think it was possible, but damn if it didn't hurt even more than the first time. His inner Felid slinked off to lick its wounds and mourn the loss in peace. There would be no such peace for Seb.

  Chapter 7

  NINA BLINKED at him. "Say that again?"

  "I have a date," Hudson replied, smiling widely as he packed up his messenger bag. He was leaving an hour early to get ready--mostly so he had time to calm his nerves.

  "Really?" Nina clapped her hands gleefully. "When?"

  "Tonight. Trent's picking me up at seven."

  Nina stilled. "Wait, Trent?" She planted her hands on her slim hips and narrowed her eyes at him. "Trent, the guy you were dancing with to make Seb jealous?"

  Hudson rolled his eyes. "Trent, the very nice fellow who wants to take me to dinner and doesn't care that I'm marked." He tapped his security clearance into his desktop interface to place it into overnight mode.

  "Is this what you really want?" Nina asked, her tone gentle.

  Of course it wasn't what he wanted. What he wanted wasn't possible. Not anymore. A week had gone by since Hudson's world had come crashing down for the third time in his life. Thankfully, Seb was staying away from him, only stopping by the office once--while Hudson was out--to drop off the photo album Hudson had left at Julia's. It had taken everything Hudson had not to give in to his grief yet again when Nina asked him what it was. He'd lied to his dearest friend, unable to get into it at the time. He would tell her eventually. Right now everything was too raw, too... painful. But it was for the best. Dom was sweet, pleading Seb's case, despite knowing Seb would be cross with him if he found out. After the fourth day, Dom simply smiled sadly at Hudson and told him if he needed anything to call him.

  "I'm moving on, Nina. I know I've said that before, but this time I mean it. My Therian half will simply have to stop being such a tosser and get on with it. Seb and I are over. For good. Perhaps if I finally move on as I intended to do years ago, Seb will too. He deserves to be happy." Every word was a fresh wound to his heart, but it was the only way. How much longer would they have gone on the way they were? Living off lingering glances, feathery touches, or the brush of a hand. Hudson couldn't go back to that slow death. Maybe he should nudge West in Seb's direction, and then Hudson would no longer have a choice in the matter.

  "What about you, hon? You deserve to be happy too."

  Hudson nodded. One day, if he was lucky, he'd find love again. "This will do for now." Who knew? Maybe Trent would surprise him. "I'm off, then." Hudson tried his best to be excited. Trent deserved a chance. Hudson kissed Nina's cheek and promised he'd tell her all about his date in the morning.

  Traffic was awful, as usual, but he'd left work an hour early. He still had plenty of time to shower and figure out what to wear.

  Once he faced his wardrobe, he started to feel nervous and a little nauseous. His inner wolf was not happy about this.

  "Behave yourself," Hudson scolded, determined to have a good time tonight. It had been months since he'd so much as attempted going on a date, and even longer since he.... Hudson's cheeks burned. Thinking about sex was certainly not helping matters. Should he... be prepared? What would it say about him if he brought supplies on a first date? Still, better safe than sorry. THIRDS agents were tested regularly, and Trent would have undoubtedly been tested this quarter, the same as everyone else, but that hardly mattered without seeing the results.

  "All right, I think that's enough of that. One fret at a time." He chose a pair of dark blue jeans, a brown leather belt, and a blue-black-and-white-checkered shirt, which he tucked into his waistband before neatly folding the sleeves to his elbows. His hair required a little more product than usual. It was probably time to cut his fringe. Perhaps then it would stop incessantly falling over his eyes. Should he wear his contacts? Sod it. He despised those things.

  Standing before the mirror, he looked himself over. The outfit was casual but neat, accentuating his body in all the right places. A horn honked, and Hudson let out a slow, steady breath. He could do this. If he didn't, Seb might go on believing there was hope for them, and Hudson couldn't allow that. He should have done this sooner. If he hadn't been such a coward, they both might have been spared the heartache. He'd been so foolish
, kissing Seb, letting things go as far as they had at Julia's house. If he didn't do something, the memory would drive him out of his mind--Seb's hands on him, the feel of his hard body pressed against Hudson's....

  "Bollocks." Hudson turned off the lights in his bedroom and quickly headed downstairs to the front door. He opened it, smiling brightly at Trent, who looked so handsome in his black turtleneck and slacks. So sophisticated.

  "Hi, Trent."

  "Hey." Trent raked his gaze over Hudson and let out a low whistle. "Wow, Doc, you look amazing."

  Hudson waved a hand in dismissal. He grabbed his jacket and locked up after them before following Trent down to the street. Hudson stopped short.

  "Is that your car?"

  Trent turned the alarm off with a beep and opened the passenger-side door of the flashy, red convertible, a wide grin on his face.

  "Yep. Are you impressed yet?"

  Hudson smiled coyly. "Well, it's not a terrible start."

  Trent laughed, closing the door after Hudson climbed in. It would seem Trent Carson was quite fond of the finer things. Having been surrounded by wealth all his life, they had never been important to Hudson.

  Trent slipped in behind the wheel, and the engine roared to life. The tires squealed as Trent peeled away, and Hudson was thankful he'd thought to put on his seat belt before they'd taken off. He had no idea where they were going, and the butterflies in his stomach were out in full force.

  "Thanks for saying yes," Trent said gently. "I wasn't sure you would. I know you're still, um...." He cleared his throat. "Heard maybe you still had a thing for Sebastian Hobbs."

  Hudson shook his head. "That's over." He summoned up a bright smile. "Let's not talk about Seb. Tell me about yourself."

  "What would you like to know?"

  "Why Manhattan HQ?"

  Trent smiled. "Well, if you're a THIRDS agent, it's kind of where you want to be, right? I mean, you guys have the best equipment, the biggest budgets, see the most action. I don't think a week goes by without one of your teams showing up on the news. You guys are treated like heroes."

  That was certainly news to Hudson. "I believe it's a matter of perspective and how the press is feeling that day. I'm quite certain you heard about the incident with Agent Summers not long ago."

  Trent frowned. "Yeah, I remember that. He did his job, saved those other civilians, and they wanted to paint him a Therian killer. Can't believe that agent was so stupid, giving intel to that reporter. Doesn't matter that they were sleeping together. They shouldn't have been waiting for Summers after he returned from taking that shot. The guy had already killed someone. He had several more hostages and was going off the deep end. What happened was messed-up, but we weren't the ones who put the gun in his hand and told him to take hostages."

  "Yes, well, there are two sides to every story, but they're rarely reported. The truth is no longer enough. Scandal sells." Hudson shook his head sadly. "They perpetuate anger and hate. As if civility between Therians and Humans isn't strained enough. It's frightful, and the bigger the city, the more challenging it is. Therian crime has grown bolder, more lethal."

  "Ain't that the truth. I remember when Therian perps used to wet themselves at the mention of the THIRDS. Now we're getting perps who think confronting us is some kind of show of how tough they are. Like if they can kick our asses, then it proves something. I don't know."

  Hudson nodded. It was rather frightening, some of the stories being spread by those who believed Therians were the superior race. How if the THIRDS didn't exist, Therians would be running the world. How Therian agents were traitors.

  "I actually jumped at the chance to be here, because some friends of mine from college moved to New York City a couple of years ago, and they keep trying to convince me to transfer," Trent said with a big smile.

  On the ride to the restaurant Trent had picked, he told Hudson about his life in Philly, about his parents and sisters. Trent was enthusiastic, energetic.

  "I love socializing, clubbing, good food, and...." He put his hand on Hudson's briefly. "Good company."

  Hudson couldn't help his blush as he returned Trent's smile.

  Trent had made reservations at a chic French bistro on W 44th Street. The decor was modern, with framed artwork of bicycles matching the red, black, and white hues. The wood-paneled walls and glowing orb chandeliers gave it a warm feel. They were asked for their jackets, and Hudson promptly removed his and handed it to the lovely attendant, who checked them in before an elegantly dressed cougar Therian showed them to their table. Hudson was pleasantly surprised when Trent pulled Hudson's chair out for him.

  "Thank you."

  The waiter arrived with their drink menus, and Trent looked up at Hudson from behind his menu. "Do you drink wine?"

  "A little. I'm afraid I'm not very wine savvy."

  "Lucky for you, I am." Trent gave him a wink. He smiled his dazzling white smile at the waiter and put in an order for a wine Hudson had never heard of and doubted he could pronounce. The waiter seemed very pleased. He bowed before taking off. They were soon brought some delicious-looking appetizers, at least until Hudson realized they were stuffed mushrooms.

  "I hope you don't mind," Trent said, looking sheepish, "but I took the liberty of ordering us an appetizer. These are to die for." Something on Hudson's face must have given him away, because Trent winced. "You don't like mushrooms?"

  Hudson shook his head. "No, it's not that. They look amazing. It's just... I'm allergic to mushrooms. I'm sorry. I should have said something."

  Trent waved a hand in dismissal. "Totally my fault. I should have asked first. I'm sorry. I got a little carried away. I'll have them take it back."

  "Nonsense. They look delicious. You should enjoy them."

  Trent's brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"

  "Of course." The waiter appeared just in time with a basket of sliced bread and some butter. "This is perfect."

  "It's not too late to order something else."

  Hudson waved a hand and smiled. "Believe me. I love freshly baked bread. Too much, actually." The sliced baguette was crunchy and warm and tasted fantastic with the imported butter; Hudson couldn't help but moan. "God, this is so good."

  "Never thought I'd be jealous of bread."

  Hudson blinked at him, half a bread slice in his mouth. "Hmm?"

  Trent leaned forward, his voice lowered and a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I'm jealous it's the bread causing you to make that sound and not me."

  Hudson almost choked. He finished swallowing and drank down almost an entire glass of water.

  "You okay?" Trent asked, looking amused.

  Hudson nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak. The wine arrived, and the waiter poured them each a glass, then left the bottle at the table. They put in their orders and continued to chat and eat after the waiter left. Well, Trent talked. Hudson ate his weight in delicious bread. He was going to have to put in twice the workout this week, but sod it. He was on a date. Bleeding hell, he was on a date! Calm down. People do this all the time. It's no big deal.

  "Can I be honest?"

  Hudson took a sip of his wine first. "Of course."

  "I thought you were going to be kind of stuck-up."

  "Oh?" Hudson cocked his head. "Why's that?"

  Trent hesitated. He looked adorably embarrassed. "Well, I heard you come from this big, wealthy family. I kind of figured you wouldn't give me the time of day. I mean, you're this smart, handsome, rich doctor, and I'm some nobody from Philly." He met Hudson's gaze, his smile apologetic. "I kind of judged you before I knew you."

  "It's all right," Hudson assured him. "Honestly it is. I left that life behind a long time ago. I was a poor fit from the start."

  Trent studied him. "Wealth really doesn't matter to you, does it?"

  "I admire those who work hard for what they have, no matter how much or how little. From a very young age, I was aware of the privilege I'd been born into. I simply couldn't understand my family's response to tho
se who had less than we did. It was even more apparent when my grandparents took me on trips to London. During one particular outing to Covent Garden, I saw a little boy about my age, at the time, huddled by a trash bin, shivering from the cold. I pulled my hand out of my grandmother's and ran over to him. I took off my cap and gave it to the boy. He gave me the most wonderful smile. I remember how good it felt to see him so happy. I returned his smile just before I was yanked away and scolded by my grandfather. I was confused by his anger. It was only a hat, and I had so many at home. Why couldn't I give it to someone who didn't have any? I thought about it on the train ride home, and I decided the reprimand wasn't going to stop me from doing it again. And I did. Again and again. Gloves, scarves, hats, money for sweets." Hudson laughed at the memory. "I'd come up with the most outlandish tales for how I lost them." His smile fell away, and he dropped his gaze to his fingers.

  "They didn't take it well, huh?"

  Hudson shrugged. "I was different. Stubborn and difficult. Some things never change."

  "Hey." Trent covered Hudson's hand with his. "Look at me."

  Hudson did, surprised by the warmth in Trent's eyes. "You're amazing. If they couldn't see that, it's their loss."

  "Thank you."

  Hudson was having a lovely time. He ignored his inner wolf's growls. It was not happy with Hudson in the slightest. In fact, the sweeter Trent was, the more furious and unsettled his inner wolf became. Pacing, growling, spitting, refusing to behave itself or take a bloody nap.

  Calm your fucking tits, all right? Piss off.

  The coq au vin was delicious, and Hudson appreciated how Trent had informed the waiter to exclude the mushrooms as Hudson had completely forgotten. He was feeling a little warm from the second large glass of red wine Trent insisted he have. Hudson wasn't much of a wine drinker, but he didn't wish to be rude. It was delightful, of course, but far more than Hudson usually drank. After one glass of wine, Trent stuck with nonalcoholic drinks, since he was driving, a detail he admitted to having overlooked in his eagerness to impress Hudson.

  After their sumptuous meal, where they talked about everything from work to the weather, they walked next door to Glaukos, a posh martini bar awash in blue lighting, with comfortable chairs and a pleasant atmosphere. Hudson's blueberry lemonade was fabulous. He'd have to tell Dex about this place. Dex loved a good cocktail.