There was a new energy about him now. As if he’d come to accept that they were welcome guests in his house and they meant him no harm.
“Water is just fine. We don’t particularly care for blood,” Wyatt said.
“Unless it’s with a good rare steak,” River added, which only caused his stomach to growl again.
Beltran nodded and went about adding ice and water to the glasses, then set them on the center island around which they were gathered. “I haven’t had a steak, rare or otherwise, in…wow…it’s been quite a while. At least a century. When I had dinner with my family not long ago, Ethan was craving sushi. I’d never had that before.”
River’s head popped up, his nose wrinkling. “Was it good?”
“It was…interesting. Some of it was very good. But I do not suggest trying the wasabi.”
River’s eyes widened suddenly. “Can you eat garlic?”
“Oh, yes. I don’t know where that silly old myth came from. I love garlic. Italian food was one of the last types of food that I gave up. All those wonderful sauces and the noodles.”
“Okay, we’ve got to get one of these apps working. I’m starving now,” River said, turning his attention to the phone that had been briefly forgotten in his hand.
Wyatt reached out and picked up both of the water glasses. “Why don’t we move back to the living room, where you and Mr. Varik can comfortably search for something on the phone?”
Beltran’s head popped up, and he smiled at Wyatt. His heart gave the strangest skip at that look. Only River had ever smiled at him like that.
“Yes, that is a much smarter idea,” Beltran agreed. “But please, you must call me Bel or at least Beltran. Unless you’d prefer it if I call you Mr. Campbell.”
“No, Wyatt is fine with me, Bel,” he said gently.
Bel looked away, leading the way toward the living room, but not before Wyatt saw what looked like a faint blush paint along his cheekbones. River looked over his shoulder at Wyatt, one eyebrow raised in question, but Wyatt could only shrug. He didn’t know what to say. When they decided to approach Bel after the death of Brett, they’d both come with the hope that he was no worse than Brett and the rest of the MacPhersons.
So far, Bel was proving to be nothing like that clan or any vampire they’d ever met.
He was simply unexpected.
And that was causing the strangest tangle of emotions in his own chest. He was more accustomed to feelings of loathing, distrust, and frustration when it came to vampires. But when he looked at Bel, the most he felt was a little frustration, and even that was tainted with sympathy. The Varik wasn’t making them false promises or acting callously toward them. If anything, Wyatt was impressed with how fair and understanding Bel was attempting to be.
In the living room, River and Bel sat close on the couch, paging through the different restaurants on the apps, while Wyatt slowly paced around the room, his eyes moving over each of the windows. The glass was incredibly thick with a protective coating, likely to shield against the sun’s rays. But there were also rails for thick shades to come down over the windows. And then a second set of rails, possibly for something even heavier than the shades he could see.
As he moved around the room, it became clear that the vampire’s home was well protected. There were tiny signs of the security system in place, and there were no indications outside of the home that anyone was getting close to the structure.
From the few rooms he’d been in so far, there were only faint hints of other people. He knew Rafe’s scent, and he’d been in the house before. And there was another hint of a human. Maybe a housekeeper who came to maintain the home’s spotless appearance. But other than that, there was only the scent of Bel.
Behind him, he listened to the steady conversation from River and Bel. Apparently there weren’t a lot of options, thanks to Bel’s remote location. But it didn’t take long for them to settle on a place and order far more food than they needed.
Wyatt almost laughed. Every time River pointed something out, wondering if Bel thought it sounded good, the vampire would simply say, “Let’s try it and see if we like it.”
Bel was showing signs of being the worst kind of enabler. If they were lucky enough to convince him to be their new master, Wyatt would need to have a talk with River. They were not going to abuse his generosity.
Of course, Wyatt didn’t want a new master in the first place. He didn’t like living outside of a pack, but he was willing if it meant being able to call River his own.
But life outside a pack was a death sentence for werewolves. A vampire master was his only chance at keeping River safe and alive.
For River, he’d accept yet another vampire master. He’d bend and scrape and obey commands to protect his River.
Wyatt pushed those dark thoughts aside and held his tongue for his lover. River had suffered too much for too long. If Bel wanted to indulge River’s every whim, so be it. He deserved to have one night with a full belly and a good sleep somewhere safe. And yes, Wyatt did believe they would be safe in Bel’s home.
“Food settled?” Wyatt asked as he turned back to face them.
“Yes, though I think we ordered too much. Particularly since you don’t eat. I’m sorry.” River hung his head and sidled across the couch, putting nearly an entire cushion between himself and Bel.
The vampire watched him, his head cocked to the side, a confused expression digging lines between his brows. Bel started to reach for River but stopped himself and knotted his fingers together in his lap instead. Bel looked up at Wyatt, his gaze both questioning and apologetic, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he’d done wrong.
Wyatt wanted to sigh. For a moment, River had managed to forget that Bel was a vampire. He’d become just a man, an acquaintance discussing food. But it was all too easy to see that old memories of other vampires had come crashing down on River.
“We have some time before the food arrives. You said something about questions,” Wyatt said, trying to redirect Bel’s thoughts away from River’s behavior.
“Yes.” It worked, though not quite as well as Wyatt had expected. Bel’s eyes still darted back to River as if checking on him one last time. With fingers tightening around his phone, Bel moved from the sofa to the chair he’d been sitting in. “Questions.”
Wyatt took Bel’s place on the couch and relaxed against the soft cushions. It took only a moment for River to scoot over toward Wyatt, sitting close enough for them to touch from shoulder to hip. His eyes drifted shut for a second, and Wyatt soaked in the simple pleasure of feeling River sitting next to him, openly touching. After hiding from their pack, then being forced to live most of their days as wolves, Wyatt had begun to lose hope that he’d ever be able to just sit and hold his lover.
“First question,” Bel started. He leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees and those sharp blue eyes trained on them with rapt attention. “What is the polite term to describe your kind? Werewolf? Lycanthrope? Shapeshifter? Loup garou? Or is there maybe something else I don’t know?”
River’s shocked laugh echoed through the room, and he pressed into Wyatt. The sound always reminded him of the wonderful fresh scents of summer. Something in Wyatt’s chest soared to hear it again, and he swore right there that he would do anything to make sure River stayed with Bel, even if it meant giving him up. River needed laughter in his life as much as he needed safety.