Thirst (Hellish #4)(4)
“Sorry,” Baptiste said, trying to fill the silence. “I don’t drive often enough to worry over getting a newer car.”
“I do nay drive at all.” Dougal kept his gaze locked ahead as he made the claim, doing nothing to alleviate Baptiste’s discomfort.
“You should learn. It could save your life someday.”
Dougal glanced over. His expression was clear of all emotion. “I know how. I just don’t. At least, not here. It’s too crowded for my blood.”
“Oh.” Baptiste sifted through his thoughts, doing his damnedest to think of something to say as he drove. “How are you liking it here?”
“It’s hot,” Dougal said, doing nothing to help move their conversation along.
“I’m sorry.”
Dougal’s tone never wavered from bland. “You apologize a lot.”
“Sorry.” Baptiste bit his bottom lip. “I’m socially inept,” he confessed, hoping to make things better.
“I can tell.” At Dougal’s response, Baptiste decided to hold his tongue. Dougal obviously didn’t care to talk, and Baptiste wasn’t good at it, so he let it go. The king didn’t live that far. Conversation was unnecessary. “There’s nay wrong with being odd,” Dougal said, finally breaking the silence. “My mate Faolan is a clown. Sometimes, he’s a lot to handle.”
Baptiste turned the image of the large ginger with amethyst eyes over in his head. He couldn’t picture such a man being a jokester, but his mate would know. Before he knew it would happen, and with his gaze locked on the road, Baptiste found himself talking about something he never did. “My mate, Eirik, he was very much at odds with his appearance too. He was a Viking. A real one. His body was covered from head to foot in tattoos and deep scars from back when he was human. Back when such things were as painful as possible. When he looked at people, they would shy away because he looked mean.” A smile touched Baptiste’s lips. He could see Eirik as clear as he had the day they’d met. Piercing gray eyes. Long, blond braid hanging over one shoulder. “Then he’d open his mouth and floor you with how soft spoken he was.”
“Do you wish to be with him in the afterlife, rather than being here?” Dougal asked, pulling Baptiste from his memories.
There was no condemnation in Dougal’s question. It was obviously a feeling the man understood. Baptiste rubbed his chest. “Every day.”
“It seems like I recall hearing something about him being a leader around here.”
Baptiste nodded. “He was hard but fair, so people came to him when they had a problem, hoping he’d intervene on their behalf. When he passed, people started coming to me instead. It sort of stuck. That’s the only reason I ended up being the new leader around here. Otherwise…” Baptiste waved toward himself and flashed Dougal a smile. “Awkward.”
Dougal’s laughter eased some of the tightness in Baptiste’s chest. The tension left the air. The king’s house came into view. The large ranch-style home was surrounded by trees, closing them off from the rest of the world. It also made it easy for Jonathan’s guards to detect any intruders in time to protect their king. Baptiste’s comfort lasted for as long as it took him to get inside. Faolan and Jonathan sat at the kitchen table with Lire, the demon. The tiny hairs on the back of Baptiste’s neck stood. The king’s tolerance for demons wasn’t a feeling Baptiste shared. This one was powerful. It didn’t matter that Celeste trusted him. Baptiste never would. He knew firsthand the damage they could cause.
Jonathan stood and met Baptiste halfway. “Hi. I’m so glad you had time for us,” Jonathan said, shaking Baptiste’s hand and leading him to the table. Dougal plopped down in the chair Jonathan had vacated between Lire and Faolan. Lire evaporated, becoming one with Faolan just long enough to kiss Dougal before reappearing where he’d been seated. Jonathan pulled out a chair across from Dougal, leaving Baptiste no other choice but to sit. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the demon and his mates. When Eirik had been alive, Baptiste had been in the same position as the three people sitting across from him. A triad of two vampires and a demon. It had been a mistake. Demons destroyed everything from the inside out, even matings.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Um.” Baptiste had nothing. His mind wouldn’t budge from the three.
“You’ll have coffee,” Jonathan said, moving to the counter and pouring Baptiste a cup. He came back, holding out the mug for Baptiste to take.
“Where are your mates?” Baptiste asked Jonathan, making conversation as he accepted the cup. The need to stare at the demon in the room tore at his skin. He didn’t like this. If he’d known the demon would be here, Baptiste wouldn’t have come.
Jonathan smiled. His dimples showed, giving Baptiste something else to focus on. “Scotland. Niall’s brother has taken over as king there. Cin and Niall are participating in their yearly games. Sort of a diplomatic mission.”
Despite everything, a smile touched Baptiste’s lips. “They’re playing.”
At Baptiste’s observation, Jonathan’s smile grew. His eyes, which already resembled a pot of leprechaun’s gold, shimmered even brighter. “Yes. They’re playing. These poor guys,” he said, waving at the two vamps and one beast at the table, “got screwed. They’re stuck guarding me.”