Page 43 of Wreaking Havoc
It was a face he knew as well as any other, particularly Alexei’s hazel eyes, so different from Sascha’s or Ivan’s icy-blue pairs.
Except now Alexei’s eyes were black. And his teeth were bared at Kai, and those werenotthe teeth Sascha remembered.
His eyes widened, and he gasped, the sound quickly turning into another ragged cough. “Alexei,” he managed to get out between coughs. “You’ve got—you’ve gotfangs.”
12
Sascha
Sascha hadn’t expected his first time hosting in his new home to be filled with so much tension.
He cleared his throat, if only to make some sort of noise to cut through the silence. It was still mildly sore, but the ache was already easing every minute. It had just been a twenty-four-hour bug, probably.
And poor Kai had thought he was literally dying.
Kai who had lost all sense of reason and chill, and was acting like the living room they’d all settled in was a battleground and Sascha’s brother was enemy number one. Kai’s armor was back on—those shoulder plates that protected none of his vulnerable bits but did leave quite a lot of delicious chest on display.
Sascha steered his mind firmly away from that direction. It wasn’t the time.
Alexei, for his part, was seated across from them on the couch—his boyfriend, Jay, tucked against him—alternating between eyeing Kai warily and staring with concern at Sascha. His fangs had disappeared, and his eyes were back to normal.
Even after his throat clearing, the silence was growing oppressive. Sascha caught Alexei’s eye. “So. Your boyfriend’s a vampire.”
Alexei glanced down at Jay, who was staring at Kai in obvious fascination, and the fondness in his gaze as he looked at his petite partner was unmistakable. “Yes.”
“And now you are too.”
Alexei didn’t answer that. He didn’t have to though. Sascha had seen, hadn’t he? Sascha let out a bitter laugh. “No wonder you never came home.”
“I wouldn’t have been welcome,” Alexei said pointedly.
You would have been welcomed by me, Sascha thought. But he didn’t let the words out. Alexei had stayed in New York longer than he ever should have, and Sascha knew well enough what his own role in that had been. Protect the baby, right? Even at Alexei’s expense, even as Ivan had broken down his spirit year after year.
It was no wonder Alexei had grown tired of it.
Sascha glanced at Kai, who was still in demon form, standing halfway in front of the armchair Sascha had settled in. His wings were gone, but Sascha somehow knew if either Alexei or Jay even looked at him askance, they’d be back, blocking him from view. Protecting him from his own brother.
Would Kai get tired of it too?
It was a stupid fucking question. Kai wouldn’t have a chance to get tired of anything. The contract would end, and he’d disappear.
As if sensing the pit of despair that thought opened up in Sascha’s stomach, Kai settled the weight of his massive hand suddenly on Sascha’s head, brushing at the strands there.
Another honest-to-God growl erupted from Alexei. “Don’t touch him.”
Kai looked back at him placidly, his hand still planted on Sascha’s head. “I don’t answer to you, bloodsucker.”
Sascha cleared his throat again, wishing he had a glass of water. He grabbed Kai’s arm and lowered the hand to his shoulder. “Let’s all just relax, hm?”
Jay, who’d so far seemed happy enough to be tucked against Alexei’s side—like this was any old family reunion and not a meeting of two different, not-supposed-to-be-real, supernatural entities—was apparently in agreement, because he laid a calming hand on Alexei’s arm before straightening. “Oh! I know!” He reached down to rummage in the backpack he’d brought, ignoring Kai’s warning rumble. After a moment of searching, he plopped a large ziplock baggie on the coffee table.
Sascha leaned around Kai—who’d stepped in further in front of him—to peer at it. “Are those…cookies?”
“Yes!” Jay beamed at him. “Peanut butter chocolate chip. Alexei said you liked those.” He looked up to Alexei for reassurance, the only sign he might be nervous, before smiling widely again at Sascha. He looked a bit like a little doll, with his wide gray eyes, delicate features, and Cupid’s-bow lips. “I wanted to make you something more fitting for a reunion, like a three-tiered cake! But Alexei pointed out that wouldn’t travel so well. Your brother’s very practical.” He cocked his head, his eyes trailing over Sascha’s face. “You really don’t look at all alike.”
They didn’t. Where Sascha and Ivan had lean frames and the icy-blue eyes and white-blond hair of their father, Alexei was a different creature. Six foot five with a broad frame and rugged features, he had eyes of multicolored hazel, and his hair was a long dirty-blond mane he kept up in a bun.
Sascha was pretty sure the man-bun had started as an act of defiance against Ivan’s desire for immaculate presentation from his brothers, but it suited him.
