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Geoffrey’s footsteps crunched through the snow, alerting anyone close enough to his presence. Winter was the worst time to hunt leeches. The snow did little to muffle your footsteps and made being followed too easy. And the longer nights gave leeches more time to hunt.
Not to mention, he was only a man. The cold bit his flesh, stung his eyes, and burned his lungs. He pulled his worn scarf up to cover his mouth before shoving his hands back in his pocket. The hunter knew he should wear gloves while on patrol, but they messed with his grip when holding a weapon.
He had woken up in a foul mood, and nothing could be done to ease it. Geoffrey’s own men had given him a wide berth all afternoon, not wanting to irritate the already pissed-off commander.
And then he saw the report.
Confirmed rumors of Emelyne Reid’s death. Dr. Jonathan Reid has not been seen since the rumor began. Location unconfirmed.
Damn.
As loath as Geoffrey was to admit it, Reid was one of the most powerful leeches he’d ever gone up against. This new information made him nervous. Swansea was dead, the red-headed leech missing, and now Reid’s mother had died. It turned his stomach to lead. And to top it off, Reid was missing.
When the commander left Priwen headquarters that evening, he had only intended to go on patrol and stretch his legs.
Well, since he was going on patrol, it wouldn’t hurt to go toward the West End.
And if he was in the West End, he should at least check to make sure nothing was going on near the Ascalon Club.
He scanned the empty street, his eyes landing on a familiar manor, the curtains drawn in mourning.
Geoffrey wasn’t going to be able to drop it until he made sure Reid hadn’t succumbed to his hunger in grief.
That was all it was.
He didn’t care about the leech. He cared that London was safe. If the doctor lost his humanity, the city was done for.
The hunter took the stairs two at a time before removing one frozen hand from his pocket and knocking.
Geoffrey wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the door opened to reveal a sullen-looking old man.
“May I help you?” the butler asked in greeting, eyes red from tears.
The hunter reached up and pulled down his scarf before he answered.
“Ah, yes, sorry to bother ya, but I was hopin’ to have a word with Reid.” He forced a smile in an attempt to look friendlier.
“My apologies, sir, but Master Jonathan is not taking visitors at this time,” the butler replied, like a broken record, as he already began closing the door. “I will, of course, let him know that you stopped by, mister?”
Geoffrey stuck his foot in the doorway, blocking the door from closing.
“McCullum. Geoffrey McCullum. Ya tell him I’m here and he’ll want to see me. I guarantee it.” He pressed one hand on the door to open it wider.
“You aren’t the first person to say that this evening,” the butler answered with a tired sigh. “But maybe you will be the first person he allows…Come in.”
Geoffrey stepped into the foyer as the old man shut the door. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm up his numb fingers.
“I’ll just wait ‘ere then?” the commander asked, wiping his boots off on the mat.
“Yes, I will return in a moment.”
Geoffrey watched as the old man headed up the staircase to the second floor. He held his breath as he heard a muffled knock and voices. At the very least, he confirmed that Reid was still in London.
“Mr. McCullum,” the butler called as he returned to the foyer. “Master Jonathan has agreed to see you. If you follow me to the sitting room, he will be down in just a few moments.”
The commander nodded, following the butler into the adjacent room. He felt odd sitting on a couch that probably cost more than anything he owned. The old man, who finally introduced himself as Avery Cork, was nice enough to bring Geoffrey tea and scones while he waited for the doctor.
Geoffrey remained sitting, picking at the food and tea for several minutes before the door finally opened. The hunter looked up and gasped. Reid looked as if he had just crawled out of bed. His hair was mussed, his clothes wrinkled, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent. Reid’s shoulders were slumped under a silk robe as if he were trying to make himself look smaller.
“Bloody hell, ya look like shite,” Geoffrey commented before he could stop himself.
Reid just stood there, blinking in shock.
The commander opened his mouth to apologize. He might be a bastard, but he should be a tad more sensitive; the vampire just lost his mother. But before he could utter a sound, Reid laughed.
A sharp, loud bark of laughter.
And then another.
And another.
Before Geoffrey’s eyes, Jonathan doubled over in a fit of manic laughter. The hunter rose to his feet, unsure if the doctor had finally cracked.
“Reid?” He hadn’t reached for a weapon yet, still assessing if Reid was a threat.
“My…my apologies,” the vampire finally spoke through his fit of laughter. “I…I’m not quite sure what came over me.” He began to slowly compose himself.
“Aye, well, good to see ya haven’t gone completely mad.” The commander remained standing, his body poised to defend itself at a moment’s notice.
“Ah, straight to business then,” Reid smiled sadly as he approached the chair across from Geoffrey. He wrapped the robe tighter around himself before he sat down, one leg crossed over the other.
It was odd to the hunter, seeing him dressed in just trousers and an undershirt beneath the robe. Geoffrey waited until the vampire was settled before sitting back down on the couch.
“I guess you’ve heard the news then. About my…my mother.” Reid’s voice cracked as he struggled to stay composed.
“Aye, we heard the rumors for almost a week now. Just had them confirmed today.” The words sounded cold, but Geoffrey wasn’t here to console the man. He was here to gather information. “We also noticed ye’ve been missing for just as long.”
“I see.” Reid frowned. “I wondered why you, of all people, knocked on my door and insisted on speaking with me. I thought…I thought perhaps…”
The vampire’s words felt like claws at Geoffrey’s throat. Did Reid think Geoffrey was there to comfort him?
“I didn’t kill her.” Reid’s voice was like ice, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the hunter.
“If you came here thinking you would find her blood on my hands, you’re mistaken.”
“No!” Geoffrey shouted, almost insulted. “No,” he repeated after a deep breath. The thought hadn’t even crossed the hunter’s mind.
“Then why are you here, Geoffrey?” Reid sounded tired. The kind of exhaustion that seeped down into your bones and made every breath feel like a burden.
“Because…Because.” Geoffrey sat back on the couch as he ran a hand through his hair.
Why was he there?
He told himself it was to check to make sure Reid wasn’t dangerous, but if that was the truth, he would have armed himself better.
Why was he there?
“Because…ya lost your mum, Reid. And we ain’t friends, but ye said it yourself, we don’t have to be enemies. I…” He growled to himself in frustration. The commander felt exposed and vulnerable, two things that made his skin crawl. “Because…I wanted to make sure that ye were…okay.” The words sounded hollow to his own ears. He could only imagine how the doctor took them.
“You wanted to make sure I was…okay?” Reid repeated as if he didn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Aye,” Geoffrey sighed, a hand covering his eyes as he pressed on his temples. This whole ordeal gave him a headache. “And to make sure ye were takin’ care of yourself. We haven’t seen ya in a week. I’m gonna guess it’s been at least that long since ya fed, if not longer.”
“I may not have hunted, but I have my own stores.” Reid sat up in his chair, clearly uncomfortable talking about his dietary habits.
Geoffrey didn’t respond at first, just turned to look at him with a doubtful gaze.
“I fed two days ago,” the vampire huffed, shifting in his chair. “I’m fine on that front. Honest.”
The hunter raised both hands in surrender, letting the topic drop for now.
“Alright, but if that changes, ye’ll let me know, right?”
“Why would I tell you if I was low on supplies? Are you going to bring me rats? How romantic,” Reid laughed indignantly.
“I’m not a bloody cat. Ye might have fun chasin’ rats in back alleys, but I’d rather just pop in the butcher shop and get ya fresh blood from there,” the hunter answered with the hint of a smile.
“Is that an actual offer?” The doctor’s eyes widened. He leaned forward in his chair, focusing on Geoffrey intently.
“Yes, if it comes to that.” The commander crossed his arms over his chest. “The last thing London needs is ye starvin’ yourself.”
“Of course.” The doctor turned his head, looking at the ground beside him. “For London’s sake.”
Geoffrey was starting to get annoyed. Every time he was honest with the vampire, he felt like he had said something wrong.
“Reid.” He scrubbed his hand down his face, already regretting what he was about to ask. “Is something botherin’ you?”
The doctor laughed, cold and bitter.
“My mother’s dead, Geoffrey! My mother’s dead, and there was nothing I could do to save her. I’m a doctor. A leech. And yet, I wasn’t good enough!” It was like the dam had burst; everything the vampire had been keeping inside was now forcing its way out. “And Avery thinks me the worst son in all of London because I can’t leave my house during the day to make the arrangements. He’s made his displeasure known. I should be the one planning the funeral. A funeral I won’t even be able to attend! If there’s a funeral at all. The gravediggers are refusing to dig a grave in the middle of winter unless we pay an exorbitant amount. They want to toss her in a mass grave and be done with it. My mother deserves to be laid to rest next to Mary. We already have the gravestone.”
Geoffrey just sat there, listening as Reid got everything off his chest.
“I…I should be the one fighting for her, not Avery. I should…” Red tears gathered in the vampire’s eyes and began to fall.
Geoffrey got to his feet and fished a handkerchief out of his pocket. He crouched next to Reid’s chair and offered him the small, stained cloth.
“She won’t end up in a mass grave, Reid. I promise ya that much.”
The doctor reached out and grabbed the handkerchief from the hunter’s calloused fingers.
“Thank you, Geoffrey.” He wiped the tears from his eyes, glaring at the red droplets left on the cloth. “I can’t even cry in front of anyone. Everyone who cared about me and knew the truth is gone now.”
“Ye’ve still got me, leech,” the commander teased, trying to coax a smile out of the vampire.
“I suppose I do. Although I wish you’d call me Jonathan,” he replied with a light chuckle.
“Jonathan, huh.” Geoffrey scratched his chin as if he were putting a lot of thought into the request. “Fine. I guess I can manage that.”
Jonathan smiled then, a bright, genuine smile, and Geoffrey felt his heart skip a beat. The hunter quickly rose to his feet, turning his back to the vampire to hide the slight pink on his cheeks.
No.
Not possible.
He wasn’t developing feelings for the leech.
“Ah, anyway, as I said before, ye look horrible. I should leave ya to take a bath or somethin’.” He busied himself by fixing his scarf.
Thankfully, Jonathan didn’t press him.
“Yes, I think a bath would do me good. Thank you, Geoffrey. For the company, and your offer.” The vampire stood, no longer slumped under the weight of his troubles.
The two walked to the front door in a silence that was only broken by the wind howling outside as Jonathan opened the door.
“Do be careful getting home.” The vampire shivered reflexively at the sight of the snow.
“Don’t worry about me, ye’ve got enough on your plate.” Geoffrey shrugged off the doctor’s concerns before he ducked out of the manor. He waved one last time as he reached the bottom of the steps.
The commander felt lighter as he made his way back to Priwen. Satisfied that he could update the report to say that Jonathan was still in London.
However, his mind kept replaying their conversation as he trudged through the snow—lingering on his promise.
Emelyne Reid would be buried in the cemetery next to her daughter.
Even if Geoffrey had to dig the grave himself.