A Mad Vampire Fell for Me

The Castle

Eleanor hadn't contacted him in a month. Now she was on the phone and the first thing out of her mouth was a demand to know why he'd been ignoring Julian. Dorian didn't know what to say to her. He never did.

The feeling was mutual. Eleanor had no idea how to talk to him either. The easy, natural warmth she had with Julian dried up the moment she opened her mouth in Dorian's direction.

"Well. Are you managing on your own, at least? Do you need money? Tell me if you do. I'll send some. And stop doing those part-time jobs. If your father finds out, he'll be furious again."

There wasn't much real concern in her voice. Dorian could hear that.

"I'm fine. I have enough."

The conversation stalled into silence. Julian gestured at Eleanor to hand him the phone. "Brother, tomorrow's the weekend. We get both days off. Do you want to come out with us?"

Dorian opened his mouth to refuse. Julian cut him off before the word could form. He'd known it was coming. "Brother, you've been so busy lately. You haven't gone out once. Come with me tomorrow. Studying all the time wears you down."

Eleanor leaned in beside him. "Julian's right. Work and rest, both important. Go out with your brother this weekend and relax a little. I'll send money. Don't worry about the cost. Just enjoy yourselves."

"His injury just healed. A whole month lying in that bed. Some exercise would do him good." Her voice hardened by a degree. "He got hurt saving you. Are you telling me you can't do this one small thing for him?"

Dorian's eyes went dark. He pressed his lips together. "Fine. I'll go."

"Yes!" Julian's voice burst through bright and delighted. "I'll send you the address. Nine tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

"Mm."

Julian was happy. Dorian was not. He couldn't figure out what Julian's angle was. Was this fun for him, the chasing? Showing off? Or was it guilt?

Did Julian even know what guilt felt like?

He should have asked what they were doing tomorrow. That would have been smart.

His phone chimed. Julian had sent the address. Rather than dig through their chat history, he typed out a quick message: what were they doing tomorrow?

[Julian]: I'm not telling, brother. Gotta keep some mystery.

[Julian]: You'll find out when you get there.

[Julian]: Or you could try guessing.

Dorian rolled his eyes. His head was pounding. He'd been in class all day and he was dead on his feet. Julian could tell him or not tell him. He didn't care enough to beg. He tossed the phone onto the bed and went to shower.

Julian waited. And waited. He'd only been trying to draw the conversation out, keep Dorian talking a little longer. Had he really just stopped replying?

[Julian]: Bro?

[Julian]: Brother? Where'd you go?

[Julian]: Why aren't you answering again?

[Julian]: BROTHER.

[Julian]: Answer me!

[Julian]: Fine. We're going to explore a castle. Happy?

[Julian]: ?

[Julian]: Brother, where did you GO?

[Julian]: I told you. Now will you answer me?

Still nothing. Julian shoved out of the chat, furious, and opened his conversation with Cedric. He typed out a long, vicious summary of everything wrong with Dorian: petty, cold, heartless. Cedric typed back in kind, matching him beat for beat. Ungrateful. Small-minded. Throwing tantrums over nothing. No manners, no breeding. The two of them fed each other's anger until it burned hot enough to feel good.

Dorian got out of the shower and found the thirty-odd messages waiting for him.

His wolf tail had been pinned up to wash. Now it was down, the ends damp, a few wet strands of his bangs clinging to his cheek. All the jewelry was off. He'd traded the black-on-black outfit for soft pajamas, and without the accessories the sharp edges of him were gone. The damp hair softened his face, that fine, un-feminine beauty turning almost gentle, almost warm. He looked like someone you'd want to reach out and touch.

He toweled his hair and read through the messages. A castle expedition. That was actually interesting. Better than the drinking, better than another party.

More dangerous too. He didn't forget that.

Morning came fast. The meeting point was at the edge of the forest, where the road ended and the trees began. No car could go farther than this. They'd walk the rest of the way.

Julian was already there, a cluster of five or six people orbiting him. Rich kids, all of them. He spotted Dorian the moment he appeared, and his face broke into a brilliant, sunlit smile. His arm shot up, waving. "Brother! Over here!"

Every head turned. And stayed turned.

Dorian was in black, same as always, a loose black jacket layered over a black shirt. He'd kept the jewelry minimal for the expedition, just the ear studs. His expression said stay back, but the way he moved drew every gaze and held it there, loose and unhurried and utterly magnetic. Add the face, and the effect was total. Nobody was looking at Julian anymore.

Dorian had a backpack over one shoulder. Water. Food. A flashlight. Some first-aid supplies. He'd come prepared.

He reached the group and the stares were still stuck to him like they'd been glued there. Julian noticed. His smile tightened, the brightness dimming at the edges. He was the young master of the Vane family. He was supposed to be the center, the one everyone orbited. That was how it had always worked.

Dorian had been kicked out. A stray dog. And yet the moment he walked in, everything went to him anyway.

Why? Because of what was in his blood? Because he was the real Vane?

A flash of jealousy, sharp and fast, cut across Julian's face. Dorian caught it. He didn't miss much.

Julian had dragged him here to show off his life, to rub Dorian's nose in everything he had and Dorian didn't. Look at me, the young master, the center of attention. It was supposed to be a victory lap. Instead, Dorian had walked in and accidentally stolen the show, and Julian was the one choking on it.

Cedric was there too. Of course he was. And what really burned Julian, maybe more than anything, was that Cedric's eyes had been caught along with everyone else's. The old worry squirmed back to life.

Did Dorian like men? Did he?

If Dorian had known what Julian was thinking, he'd have punched him twice just to clear his head. Since when did being good-looking make someone gay? He was into women. Absolutely. Definitely. And if, strictly hypothetically, he ever weren't, he still wouldn't look twice at Cedric Sterling.

Cedric was a creep. A garden-variety sleaze with money.

And Dorian had seen the way Cedric looked at him when he thought no one was watching. It made his skin crawl. Julian should worry less about Dorian making a move on Cedric, and more about Dorian knocking Cedric flat on his back. His patience had limits.

"This is my brother. Dorian."

Julian stepped up beside him, and the contrast was brutal. Someone in the group, a boy named Tobias Ward, opened his mouth before his brain caught up. "Julian. Is he really your twin? The two of you look… completely different."

He didn't finish the thought. He didn't need to. Anyone with eyes could see what he meant. Dorian was simply too beautiful, and Julian, standing next to him, seemed to dim and fade without anyone quite meaning to notice.

Julian's insides twisted. The smile he forced out was jokey, casual, like none of it mattered. "What's that supposed to mean? We're fraternal twins. We're not supposed to look alike. Guess you didn't know that, did you?"