Envious Of Fire (Kissing With Teeth #2)

23. An Early Grave.

—?—

Few words are exchanged as Kyle, Drake, and Mikey walk in the night. Perhaps all three are more rattled by the interception of the vampire than they wish to admit. Too many times, Kyle and Mikey peer back, as if expecting him to be in pursuit of them. But out here in the desert, there is nowhere to hide, both for the trio of them as well as a pursuing vampire.

Maybe it really was just a malicious taunt on their way out of the cave and nothing more.

“La-La’s already forgotten about you,” assures Drake hours later when they come to rest near a bushel of cacti and a short, smooth rock. “We’re safe, I swear.”

“I don’t get the sense La-La is the type to forget anything,” says Kyle. “He seemed like a psycho obsessive type.”

Drake doesn’t respond at first. Perhaps tired of lying, he finally says, “Okay … I will admit, I would have preferred if we had made it out of there without being seen by anyone, let alone someone like fucking La-La .” He peers over his shoulder in the direction of the cave, now miles away. “I’m sure the others know by now we’re gone.”

Kyle hugs his knees. “You think someone will come after us?”

“Not tonight, doubt it. It’s too late, already past midnight.”

“So? That still gives them roughly five or six hours.”

“My family may consider themselves totally liberated and free to do as they please … but we’re still guarded, protective, playing it safe, highly paranoid, not likely to fall for any traps. Salazo’s first thought will be that this is a trap, to lure him into the sun looking for his pet. I’ve heard him mutter wildly to himself in the daylight hours, crazy things. He’s a bit … uh … loony.”

“Okay, maybe Salazo’s too paranoid to go after his pet, but what about your own brother coming after you? He’ll be pissed when he realizes you left with me. Maybe you should go back.”

“You think so?” Drake frowns. “But who’ll protect you from La-La? At the very least, I should get you home.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Drake slides up next to Kyle. “That eager to get rid of me again, huh?”

Kyle sighs, scoots away. “And how many times do I gotta remind you I have a boyfriend? A boyfriend I love?”

“You think love is so singular?” Drake scoots closer again. “I love everyone I like. I even love the pet. I love everyone at the den, all my aunts and uncles. I love you, too. See how love spreads? How love is free? It isn’t something you can quantify. Look, you’re not even seeing the self-imposed laws that govern your own idea of love. You keep it caged like a pet of your own, reserved for only one person. You’re denying yourself.”

Kyle looks away, annoyed. Drake seems to pick up the hint, but doesn’t move away from Kyle’s side.

Besides, how Drake defines love is the last thing on Kyle’s mind. He is certain La-La hasn’t forgotten them, hasn’t moved on, still licking his grinning lips back at that cave, plotting what his next move will be.

Kyle went to the Devil’s Mouth for clarity and security. Now he feels more in danger than he ever has in his whole life. How can he manage a wink of sleep ever again, knowing that someone like La-La is out there? Lazarus was scary enough. Salazo is a demented pervert. But neither of them compare to the blood- freezing fear that was inspired in Kyle’s heart with just a minute or two of words and a frighteningly sharp sword.

Not to mention how angry Lazarus will get when he finds that, for a second night in a row, his brother flaked on a hunt.

Was this whole expedition a colossal mistake?

“Fucking goddamned fucking fuck!” growls Mikey. When Kyle and Drake look, they find him clawing at the spiked collar around his neck. “This stupid thing won’t come off!”

Drake tilts his head. “Did you not bring the key?”

Mikey stops, eyes wide. “There’s a key?”

“Yes. The collar locks, of course.” Drake clicks his tongue, shaking his head in pity. “Looks like you’re gonna be stuck in that thing for a while.”

“Are you kidding me? Are you—” He pulls and pries and yanks on it with greater urgency until he’s huffing and out of breath. “This motherfucking sweaty thing is suffocating me!”

“It’s psychological. Inhale, exhale, buddy. Wouldn’t try to cut it off either,” Drake adds unhelpfully, “as that thing appears to be really, really snug around that neck of yours.”

“Then what am I supposed to do??”

“Get used to it? Consult a locksmith? Cover it with a neck brace and feign having an injury forever? Don’t ask me.”

Mikey gives up, dropping his hands. After a second, he gets to his feet. “I wanna get as far as possible from that place. Gotta keep moving. I don’t trust they won’t come after me. Where is this town you said you’re from? I’ve never heard of Nowhere.”

“No one has,” admits Kyle, “but everyone there is friendly and very, very human. You can stay at my place. My boyfriend has a half-abandoned house on the other side of town, too, full of junk and clutter he pretends isn’t there. Just until you’re back on your feet and ready to head to your actual home.”

“I don’t need any of that. I just need clothes, a shower, and … and …” Mikey’s posture keeps breaking as he fights back tears. “I just need to get to my home.”

“Where is that?” asks Kyle. “You never said.”

“And I won’t.” Mikey’s eyes flick to Drake’s. “Last thing I need is any of them knowing where my family is.”

Drake lets out a tiny sigh, then offers Mikey a wistful smile. “I not only know exactly where you live, I also know your mom and dad’s names, your two sisters’ names and where they go to school, the breed of your dog, and even your recently-deceased gerbil.”

Mikey’s eyes flash. “Fuzzy died?”

Drake grimaces. “Sorry to bear the bad news.”

Mikey, who seems suddenly far less interested in Drake’s review of how much he knows about his life, loses his steam at hearing the news of his pet. He stares at the ground, mumbles, “Had that gerbil since I was in high school.”

“To be fair, they only live two to four years at best, five or six if they’re really lucky,” offers Drake, like a living encyclopedia. “It sounds like he was one of the lucky ones.”

“She.”

“She,” Drake corrects himself. “Sorry for your loss.”

It isn’t really about the gerbil, Kyle can sense. Mikey feels disconnected from his whole life. One moment ago, he thought he would never see his family again. Now everything feels taken away even more than it already was. Perhaps even still, the idea of returning to his life feels like some distant dream.

Kyle can more than relate to that sentiment.

Without another word, Mikey starts walking off.

After a moment, Drake seems to want to say something to Kyle, but Kyle rises off the ground before he speaks and follows Mikey. Soon, Drake tags along, too, and the trio are back to crossing the arid, moonlit landscape.

It seems like hours later, and there is still nothing in sight. Mikey’s pace has slowed greatly. It’s only now after having had a taste of Lazarus’s blood that Kyle finds himself envying the power it gave him. He could carry Mikey on his back with ease and cover so much more ground. Then he feels sickened for envying the power and speed that full vampire blood lends him.

He decides he never wants to taste it again.

“How much further?” groans Mikey.

Kyle pulls out his phone to check for a signal, only to then be reminded that it died countless hours ago during the day. “I have no idea. Have we gone in a circle?”

“Everything’s far away from the Devil’s Mouth,” points out Drake, “for obvious safety reasons. I’d say we have another four or maybe five hours left to travel. Ten or fifteen miles, I guess. Or I’m just pulling these numbers out of my ass. Do I look like a human maps app to you?”

“I’m gonna die,” cries Mikey.

Kyle glances toward the horizon. It’s already beginning to swell a deep, menacing blue. “We don’t even have one hour, let alone five or six. We barely have half an hour. How in the hell did the night go by so fast? I thought I made it to the Devil’s Mouth much quicker before. We must’ve taken a longer way.”

Drake comes to a stop, sighs. “Only one solution to the time issue. Looks like we’ve gotta get dirty.”

Kyle stops as well. “What do you mean?”

Drake starts walking here and there, stomping his foot on the ground. When he finds the perfect spot, he crouches down, smirking, then says, “We have to dig.” He peers up, sees the puzzled expression on Kyle’s face. “Y’know, for us to spend the day in. Because: sun. We’re digging a grave.”

Kyle and Mikey blurt out at the same time: “Grave??”

Drake turns to Mikey. “Good news: no vampires are gonna pursue you for the next thirteen hours. Bad news: your new bed is gonna be on top of our grave.”

While Mikey tries to make sense out of that, Kyle squints at Drake like he’s lost his mind. “You can’t just dig a hole in this kind of earth. It’s as solid as cement.”

A corner of Drake’s lips pull up. “Challenge accepted.”

Then he throws a fist into the ground.

Kyle and Mikey step back as the earth crackles outward. He doesn’t seem satisfied with the result, so he pounds the hard earth again—and again. Once it seems to have broken enough, he starts digging his fingers into the cracks, prying and pulling chunks of hardened stone and dirt out. Kyle and Mikey watch, stunned, as Drake circles the start of his work, crouches in a different place, and continues punching, clawing, and peeling away the earth.

Drake peers back at them. “You boys plan to help? Or just to stand there admiring how cute my butt looks in these jeans?”

Kyle scoffs. “There’s gotta be another way.”

“Haven’t you ever been caught out in a stretch of land at sunrise before?” Drake chuckles at the baffled look on Kyle’s face. “C’mon, it’s quicker if we all dig. We’re gonna share this deep, narrow hole, Kyle, just you and I. We need enough room for us both to stand side-by-side, deep and straight down.”

“I’m not sharing any kind of hole with you.”

Drake quirks an eyebrow at Kyle as he digs. “If that doesn’t sound sexual … Hey, tick-tock, hot stuff, time is of the essence.” He keeps cutting into the earth with his hands, scooping away clumps of hardened dirt and stone with impressive ease. Mikey stands there, at a loss, likely wondering how it’s even possible to dig a hole so deep in this hard earth. He probably figures it has to do with “human muscles” this and “vampire muscles” that.

Kyle figures the same. Despite his feelings, he grits his teeth and drops to his knees to join Drake in digging. It isn’t as easy for him, and not much soon after he starts, he regrets how sore and raw his fingertips become. Several times, he debates giving up.

The sky brightening by the second is a sure motivator to not.

It isn’t long before even Drake’s sense of urgency increases, as he peels off his denim jacket, tosses it at a large nearby stone, and continues digging in just his sleeveless white shirt. Kyle’s body is drenched in sweat. Mikey even reluctantly pitches in, scooping away the broken dirt that’s already been dug up to make room for more digging, though his efforts are slowest.

“Really, guys, what am I supposed to do all day? Just sit out here and wait?” Mikey’s voice is weary and out of breath. “No way. I’ve gotta get to that Nowhere town. Where even is it? Do I go that way? Or that way? What if I get turned around?”

“It’s southwest from here,” answers Drake simply.

“And where the hell is southwest? I’m not a compass.”

Drake, halfway submerged in the hole as he digs, patiently points at the horizon like he has hours of time to spare. His voice shifts to that of a schoolteacher. “See where the sun makes its daily debut? That is east . Suns tend to rise in the east .” Drake smiles, satisfied with his lesson. “Easy for you to find the right way, if you’re really that desperate to get in your cardio.”

“I … But I … I can’t …” Mikey’s hands go to his collar, as if reminded it’s there. “I can’t just walk into some random town all alone looking like this. I look like I … like I wandered there from some kind of kinky sex party.”

Drake squints at him. “Isn’t that … precisely what you did?”

Mikey opens his mouth to protest, stops. Then his voice is a whimper. “I’m gonna turn into bacon out here, sitting in the sun for thirteen straight hours. You got any idea how hot it gets during the day, man? I’m fucking dead.”

“There’s a teensy chance of rain,” says Drake as he calmly slides back into the hole, digging. “As you may notice, the sky isn’t totally clear. Besides, seeing as you stayed up all night …” He throws another fist into the ground, cracking more earth. “… and you really don’t look in the best condition, and we still have all this distance left to go, I’d recommend getting your rest. Also, we’ll be returning to Nowhere at night when people are less likely to see you and gawk. Hey, you can even use my jacket as a blanket. See how generous I am? I really am a good guy,” he then adds for Kyle’s benefit, turning to him at once, his eyes innocent and soft. “I’m so good. Like, the goodest.”

“Keep digging,” grunts Kyle, annoyed. Drake smiles, obliges.

Mikey pouts down at the ground like he wants to cry.

In about four and a half more minutes: “That should do it,” announces Drake, sitting back on his heels. “You wanna slide in first? Or shall I?”

“Wait a sec,” blurts Mikey. “You guys … really are gonna do this? You’re gonna bury yourself until it’s night again?”

“Of course,” sings Drake lightly, “and you have the power to dig us right up at any time. So we’re trusting you. Isn’t this amazing? So early in our friendship, and we’re already playing trust games. If you wouldn’t mind resting directly on top of us, that would be lovely.”

“We need to dig some more,” Kyle insists. “This hole is … is too tight. We’re gonna be squeezed against each other.”

“It’s perfect.” Drake meets his eyes. “Cuties first.”

Kyle is about to protest again, but the light is beginning to surge behind the mountainous horizon. It’s reminding him far too much of another cruel morning not too long ago when he voluntarily welcomed the sunrise upon his exposed body.

Without another word, Kyle slides down into the deep and narrow pit, standing at the bottom with his back flat against the wall, then peers up. Drake pulls a few wide, flat stones to the edge of the pit, like a lid, then dangles his legs. “Will you do us the honor of sliding these sick puppies over the opening when I’m snug inside?” he asks Mikey, before he spreads his legs slightly, minding Kyle, then begins to lower himself into the hole.

It is an act that, with Kyle in the way, proves to not be easy.

Kyle suspects it wasn’t meant to be.

At first, just Drake’s legs slide into the pit. Then comes the crotch of his jeans, pressing rather deliberately against Kyle’s face and seeming to hang there. “Hey, help pull me down a bit more,” says Drake, “unless you’re, um, enjoying the view.”

Kyle grabs hold of the bottom of Drake’s legs as best as he can and helps tug him downward. Overhead, the sky is growing dangerously brighter. Soon, it’s Drake’s stomach against Kyle’s face, then his chest, then their faces are in front of each other.

A grunt is heard overhead before the light is slowly eclipsed as the wide, flat stones are slid over the opening above, like the lid to a vertical coffin sliding shut. Three stones is all it takes until every trace of light is gone. Kyle’s eyes adjust, making out the side of Drake’s face, chin resting on Kyle’s shoulder, arms by each other’s side. For some reason, Kyle hadn’t anticipated how intimate this situation would feel. Maybe the urgency of the sun rising caused him to neglect certain considerations, including whether or not he might start to feel claustrophobic.

“You okay?” whispers Drake, the soft words nearly tickling Kyle’s ear.

“Far from,” answers Kyle.

“I know,” he says. “This is a less than ideal circumstance. I doubt I’m at the top of your list of guys you’d love to be buried pressed up against. Assuming you carry such a list. Do you carry such a list? Forget I asked, stupid question.”

The two remain in silence a moment.

From above comes a muffled voice. “You guys okay? You dead down there? Can you breathe?”

“We’re fine,” Kyle calls out.

“Dandy,” answers Drake. “Get some rest. Take care of my jacket. Don’t you dare run off with it, it’s a one-of-a-kind!”

“Where the hell would I go anyway?” Mikey returns in his muffled voice. Then come the crunching sounds of Mikey lying atop the stones, presumably getting as comfortable as he can manage. The sounds include a couple of muffled curse words and a miserable groan.

Drake turns his face slightly. “We should probably get a bit of rest, too.”

“Yeah,” agrees Kyle mildly, closing his eyes.

Silence passes.

Kyle feels a hand touch his waist, slowly sliding down his hip, then grazing the side of his ass. “Drake,” he says warningly.

“Just finding somewhere comfortable to put my hands.”

“Put them in your pockets, then.”

“Can I put them in yours?”

“No.”

“It’d be easier. Like this.” Drake slides his hands into the back pockets of Kyle’s jeans. “See? Put yours in mine. Then our bodies would be supporting each other as we rest.”

“I’m not—” Kyle sighs. To be fair, his arms are dangling in the miniscule amount of open space by their sides. He slides his hands blindly around Drake’s hips, around to his ass, searching for his back pockets. He seems to have trouble finding them.

Drake turns his face more. “Enjoying yourself back there?”

“Can’t find your pockets.”

“Keep feeling around. My cheeks could use a massage.”

Kyle rolls his eyes, drops his hands away. “Never mind.”

“Hey, hey, just teasing.” Drake’s nose is near Kyle’s ear, his every breath like a gentle ocean wave. Kyle feels soft lips on the side of his neck, right where it’s most tender. “God, this is so … so tempting.”

“Don’t make me thrust you out of this hole into the sun.”

“I love when you talk dirty.”

“I’m serious, Drake. I’m not here to fuck around.”

Drake’s lips pucker in the slightest, almost like a kiss. Kyle simply bears it. What else can he do? They’re sandwiched by hard, unrelenting stone, sardines in the tin can of earth itself. He feels each and every squirm of Drake’s body. He feels the pulsing of Drake’s cock against his own through the tightly-pressed-together crotches of their jeans. Their hearts beat as one with their chests squeezed together. It is as deeply intimate a situation as Kyle fears he’ll ever find himself in.

Only it’s not with Elias.

And the more turned on Drake becomes, the more it flows stubbornly straight into Kyle’s system via the Reach, confusing him worse and worse by the second. Is Kyle turned on at all by this situation? Or is it all Drake? Can he even separate their feelings any more than he can separate their bodies?

“The vampire appetite slows,” says Drake, “and after time, you come to need less and less blood.”

The words stir Kyle, seeming to come out of nowhere. He frowns in the dark. “What do you mean?”

“You might’ve been wondering,” he says. “I know that you came to the Devil’s Mouth for answers. My brother told me all that happened when he found you at your house. It makes total sense that you sought us out. You want to know more. I can tell you everything down here, you know. Hey, does your neck feel stiff yet? You can rest your chin on my shoulder.”

Kyle resents the offer for half a second. Then he realizes he has few options anyway, and decides to give in, resting his head on Drake’s soft and available shoulder.

“But needing less blood doesn’t equate … drinking less.” A tiny sigh flies from Drake’s lips, touching Kyle’s ear. “Because the most dangerous aspect of a vampire, especially after they’ve lived for a very long time, is when they … become bored. Soon, the act of killing becomes a sport. There’s something so terrible about time passing, about how everything in your long life becomes … unstimulating, uninspiring … and so, so tedious … I’ve seen it. Drinking becomes less about the blood, less about our survival, less about power … It just becomes … fun.”

The first thing Kyle thinks about is La-La. The detached, almost psychotic grin that wouldn’t wipe off the vampire’s face. The playful way he brandished that katana, as if his only intent to lop off a head is to marvel at how prettily blood can spray from an artery, like an artful red water fountain.

Boredom, the most dangerous aspect of immortality.

From which the worst terrors imaginable are spawned.

“We’re the ones who truly run the world,” says Drake. “It’s our kind that everyone truly fears. Our kind that gives vampires the reputation that has lived on through folklore and hearsay for thousands of years. Not the soft pre-vampires who forged flimsy governments and don’t know what it’s truly like to suck a human dry. Fancy Lord Darkadian? My brother and our family could end him and his reign tonight if we wanted to. Wipe the whole so-called vampire governing power out of existence. The only reason guys like him are in power is because weaker people put them there. They can just as easily be tossed to the streets.”

Drake shifts his face slightly, lips grazing Kyle’s neck again.

“The only thing that eludes us is … how to actually … enter the House of Vegasyn.”

Kyle thinks of Tristan suddenly. Tristan and the last time they saw one another, in that long castle-like hallway with tall columns and the opened side showing an illusion of mountains. Tristan and the tea he barely drank. Tristan and the goodbye kiss they shared.

And the sound of Tristan’s voice as he apologized once again for ending their twenty-six-year relationship with a lie in the form of a pile of fake ashes.

Tristan, living within the beast of that House of Vegasyn.

“Your body grew tense,” Drake notes.

Kyle shakes his head slightly. “Sorry.”

“This conversation is stressing you out. I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.”

“The truth is, I really …” Drake’s face shifts again. His lips pucker. His hands, stuffed into Kyle’s pockets, squeeze ever so subtly. “I really like you, Kyle.”

“Stop.”

“I know. I know you’re off-limits. I don’t want to take any more advantage than I already have. I just …” Drake sighs, his breath playing across the sensitive side of Kyle’s neck. “I’ve just been alone for so long, I forgot what it feels like to be held.”

Kyle says nothing.

“I know,” Drake goes on, his voice softer. “If this is all I’m allowed, if it’s all I get … I can live with that. It’ll be enough.” He smiles against Kyle’s neck. “If it makes you feel any better, we’re pressed together so tightly, we don’t have a fleeting hope of touching each other’s dicks.”

Of all things to make Kyle crack a smile.

“There,” says Drake, feeling it against his own neck. Then he chuckles lightly, but soon grows quiet again. “Really. I don’t want to just be another vampire in your life, sucking out what you’ve got in you, taking and taking. I want to give something back to you. I want to do good in this world before my time. I want …” Drake moves his lips away from Kyle’s neck, rests his chin fully on his shoulder. “… to be better than my brother.”

That part catches Kyle by surprise.

Kyle turns his face slightly. “You can be.”

Drake turns, too. “Think so?”

“Stay with us in Nowhere. Don’t let your brother decide how you get to spend your days. Maybe you’ll meet more guys. Live the life you want. Be a college kid. That picture I painted you back at those dorms? It isn’t just some daydream, Drake, it could be your life, your real, actual life.”

Now it’s Drake who’s been rendered silent.

Until the muffled noise of Mikey’s voice comes through the rock. “Can you guys keep it down? I can’t sleep with all of your damned mumbling, and this tiny-ass denim jacket barely covers me. Uncomfortable as fuck up here.”

Drake squeezes his arms tighter around Kyle. Kyle takes it for a hug and squeezes back. Only the sounds of their breathing fill the narrow space as they succumb to the weariness in their cuddled bodies.