not human he was. Sometimes it made him angsty, especially when he remembered his nature was the reason they could only steal these moments together rather than sharing their lives like he’d always wanted, but not right now.
Right now, he was just glad they still had these moments to enjoy. Months ago, that had seemed like a pipe dream.
Chapter 3
Colt fell asleep at Jason’s new place and woke up to no fewer than twenty voicemails and increasingly passive-aggressive texts from Evelyn. He saw he’d just missed a call from Ronnie while Jason was in the shower, so he returned it first.
“Dude, your boss is like five minutes away from sending a team in after you,” the younger man said before Colt even had the chance to say hello.
Colt scowled. “Evelyn is not my boss.”
Technically she was, but only in the sense that she owned the company that signed the checks for Colt’s cover job. He just didn’t feel like arguing the nuance.
“Whatever she is, she’s pissed. You’ve got a meeting with the Kinship in an hour. I don’t mean this in a jealous schoolboy with a crush kind of way, because I’m totally over that shit, but it’s time to pull out of the lawyer and get back here before Cannibal Karen kills us all.”
“I heard that, you chubby little twerp.” Evelyn’s voice was shrill, even in the background. “Give me that.”
Colt could hear her wrestling Ronnie for the phone before she won out. “I swear, Colt, if you’re late to another meeting—”
“I’ll be there,” he groaned, pulling on his shoes. “Just try to stall for me. And don’t let the rest of the Kinship get to the rogue hunters they caught last week without me--I want to deal with them myself.”
“No promises. Just get here soon, Casanova.”
Evelyn hung up first, as usual. Colt was dressed by the time Jason came out of the shower, and the other man was already wearing a work shirt and slacks.
“I thought it was your day off,” Colt said.
“It was, but I just got a call from a cop I interned with in the SVU.” Jason opened one of the cardboard boxes still stacked by the door. “Have you seen the box with my ties in it? I had one in my suitcase, but it’s not there.”
“Yeah, we used it for round two last night, remember?” Colt pulled it out from between the sofa cushions, offering it to Jason.
“Right,” Jason sighed, taking the tie over to the mirror to put it on.
“What’s a cop from the SVU want with you these days?” Colt asked, trying not to sound as worried as he was.
“There’s been another kidnapping in southern Rhode Island, and she wants me to see if I can pull some strings with Andrew because your buddies at the detective bureau aren't taking it seriously,” he said, giving Colt a pointed look.
Colt swallowed hard. “I hate to be that guy, but doesn’t that kind of thing usually end up being one parent pissed about an unsatisfactory custody arrangement running off with the kid? Is there really a lot the sheriff can do about it?”
“It’s not just one kidnapping, it’s been five this month alone, and the parents are all accounted for,” Jason said, pulling his tie tight. “None of the kids have been found yet.”
“Shit,” Colt muttered, holding out Jason’s jacket. “Please be careful.”
“I’m just meeting Andrea for lunch. I think as long as I stay away from the chicken-fried steak, I’ll be fine,” he said dryly, leaning up to kiss Colt’s cheek. “Try not to get any deeper into whatever it is you’re too afraid to tell me and lock up when you leave, hm?”
“You got it.”
He was already eye-deep in the shit. How much worse could it get?
Colt finished unloading the last couple of boxes they’d left in the truck the night before and headed back to what had once been the Moreau estate. The driveway was packed, and by the time he made it to the meeting room, everyone was already talking animatedly about something. They all stopped and stood when Colt entered the room.
He gave the gathered representatives of the Kinship a nod of acknowledgment and took his seat at the head of the large rectangular table. One term Colt had insisted on was Stan’s appointment to the Kinship as a representative. The older ghoul smiled at Colt from across the table.
To Colt’s relief, although Ronnie liked to joke about him taking the “throne,” there was far less ceremony involved