Loved (House of Night Other World #1)(59)

He opened the door.

Jack was sitting on the bed, watching TV. He had a half-finished liter of blood in his hand. He’d taken his shoes off and had his feet tucked cross-legged under him. His eyes went to Damien first. He opened his mouth, and then Duchess whined and his gaze snapped down to the big, blond lab sitting beside Damien.

“A dog? Really?” Jack’s voice broke adorably, reminding Damien so much of his true love that he wanted to weep.

Instead he forced himself to smile. “Yes, indeed. A dog. Really.”

“I used to love dogs. I mean, I know we’re supposed to all be cat people, but I can’t help it. Plus, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with loving dogs.”

“Right? That’s something we’ve always agreed on. Do you recognize her?”

“Her?”

Damien nodded and patted Duchess on the head. “The dog’s a her. And her name is Duchess.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She certainly is. So, you don’t recognize her?”

Jack tore his gaze from Duchess to meet Damien’s eyes. “No. There aren’t any dogs at the House of Night.”

“She’s not with Stark?”

“General Stark? No. Or if she is, I’ve never seen or heard about her,” Jack said. “Wait, she’s Stark’s dog?”

“Yes, but he shares her. With us.”

Jack’s eyes got huge. “Are you being serious?”

“Ask her.”

Jack swallowed visibly and shifted until his legs dangled over the side of the bed and he faced the two of them. He put the liter jug on his bedside table and then rubbed his hands nervously together. “But cats hate us. All of us. Don’t dogs, too?”

“Us?”

“All red fledglings and vampyres,” Jack explained.

Damien thought quickly. He remembered that Stark hadn’t wanted Duchess to be around him when he was struggling with his own humanity as a young red fledgling. He looked down at Duchess and the lab gazed back at him with eyes filled with unconditional love and acceptance. And he knew Duchess wouldn’t reject Other Jack. Like Grandma Redbird, Duchess would see within him to the Jack they loved.

Then he looked at Jack, who was staring with longing at Duchess.

“Ask Duchess. She knows you. She’ll accept you,” Damien said, and registered the flush of surprise and brief expression of raw happiness that passed over Jack’s face.

“Duchess? Would you come here, pretty girl?”

Duchess glanced quickly up at Damien. “Go on,” he told her with a grin.

She bounded to Other Jack, wiggling joyously as he petted her and told her how soft and special and beautiful she was.

So like his Jack. So very much like his sweet, lost Jack.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Damien hadn’t realized he’d been standing there with tears flowing down his face until Jack spoke.

“Oh, yes.” He swiped at his cheeks. “Sorry. It’s just …” And his words trailed away because the truth was that it was just too painful to put to words.

“I know,” Other Jack spoke softly. “Would you like to come in and sit down?” He motioned to the chair beside the little desk under which the TV was mounted. “Or maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

“I would like to come in. But how do you feel? Do you think you can control yourself?”

Jack kept petting Duchess with one hand while he reached for the jug of blood with the other and took a long gulp before answering. “Yes. I’ve had a lot to drink, and sunrise is close enough that I’m feeling sleepy already.”

“Well, then, I’ll come in for a little while.” Damien took the chair from the desk and moved it beside the bed. Not too close, but not as far away as it had been, either. He set the picnic basket beside him, wondering when would be the right time to share what was inside with Jack.

They sat there in silence while Jack drank from his blood jug and petted Duchess. Finally, Damien said, “You have Netflix down here, you know.” He jerked his chin at the television.

“Oh, good. Movies,” Other Jack said, picking up the remote. “Do you want to watch something with me?”

“Sure. It’ll need to be something short, though, if you’re going to pass out pretty soon.”

“Um, do you have a series here called Make the Date?”

“I don’t think so. What is it?”

“OMG, it’s awesomesauce. It’s about these two guys—gay, of course.” Jack paused.

“Of course,” Damien said automatically. Just as he had said so, so many times before. He blinked fast, not wanting to spoil the moment with tears. “What about the two guys?

“Well, it’s a dating reality show. Only the gays run the whole thing—who’s fixed up with who, what they wear, how their hair and makeup look, where they go on the date. They even get to choose if the couples have another date together, or they can trade them for another contestant on the show. At the end of each season there is at least one proposal. And drama. So much drama. You’d love it.”

“It sounds divine, but I’m sure we don’t have it here. We do have a show I’m 100 percent sure you’ll love. It’s called Project Runway. Ever heard of it?”