Life After Humanity Page 2

  “That makes sense, I guess.” Nate continued to look around. “What about that painting? You going to put it up?”

  Ben felt heat rush to his cheeks. How does Nate always know? He’d unpacked the painting, determined to hang it up and make his apartment look more like someone lived there. Instead, he’d been paralyzed, unable to make the decision of where to place it. After two hours second-guessing himself, he’d left the painting leaning against the wall. “When I decide where to put it. I don’t want to leave a bunch of holes in the wall.”

  Nate glanced at him. “I wondered if maybe you were having trouble adjusting to living here.”

  Ben felt his heart start to beat with an awareness of danger. “Trouble?”

  “The same way you’re having trouble adjusting to not being a vampire anymore.”

  Ben put down his fork. “I’m not having trouble.” The words were harsher than he’d intended, but it was too late to take them back. “I hated being a vampire. Loathed every second of it. I don’t miss it!” He caught his breath.

  Nate’s gaze was steady, and he met Ben’s eyes with concern. “I never said you did. It’s just… It’s been weeks and you’re still living out of boxes. You don’t go out, except on business, and a lot of the time…you don’t go out at all.”

  Ben swallowed. “You’ve been watching me?”

  “Not like that. But Aki and I… Well, we’re worried about you, right? So we notice things.”

  “You don’t need to worry. I’m doing fine.” Ben kept his tone firm. “You’ve got to remember you and Aki might be extroverts, but I’m not. I like being on my own—living my new life the way I want to.”

  “You sure living’s the right word?”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  Nate nodded toward the kitchen door. “Your cupboards.”

  “What’s wrong with my cupboards?”

  “You tell me.”

  Ben shot Nate a glance, but it was impossible to read his thoughts. “All right.” He went to the kitchen, opening the pantry. The shelves held a neat stack of packets of candles, bulbs of garlic in a net, and a bulk bag of salt. “It looks fine. Everything’s tidy. A bit empty perhaps, but I am the only person living in this apartment.”

  “Nothing’s missing?” Nate had followed him as far as the kitchen doorway.

  Ben shook his head. “I’ve got all the basics of spell craft covered.”

  “And the basics of living? You know, like food?” Nate waved toward the pantry. “Unless you plan to subsist entirely on garlic, in which case we’re gonna need to talk about that.”

  Ben snapped his head back to stare at his pantry. He felt his cheeks heat. I never even thought of that. “I—”

  “While I was waiting for you to come back, I took a look at your fridge.” Nate waved his hand toward it. “Looked like you were getting low on supplies. So I went out and got you a few things.”

  Ben opened the fridge. He saw a loaf of bread, a carton of eggs, a carton of milk, and a plastic container holding what remained of their dinner.

  “I know your tastes are pretty simple, so I didn’t want to get too much.” Nate scratched the back of his neck. “I figured I’d stick with toast and things you could have with it.”

  Ben stared wordlessly at the loaf of bread. It was a little alarming to discover just how well Nate knew him. “Thanks. I—appreciate this.” He turned his head back to look at Nate. “Did you break into my apartment, go out for groceries, and come back?”

  Nate squirmed. “Maybe?”

  Ben shut the fridge door and leaned against it. “You realize that’s not exactly ordinary behavior either.”

  “Yeah, well.” Nate scowled. “I’m not trying to be ordinary, am I?”

  Have I touched a nerve? Ben fought the impulse to apologize. This is good. Even if it felt wrong. “You’re finally working on your supernatural abilities?”

  “Yeah. Matter of fact, I’ve got something to show you. Come see.” Nate led the way through the apartment to Ben’s bedroom.

  Bad idea. Ben couldn’t help the jolt of interest that went through him at the memory of lying tangled with Nate in the sheets of his bed. He quickened his pace. “We’re not—”

  Nate had pulled the window up and sat perched on the windowsill, his legs resting on the fire escape outside. “We’re not?” he prompted, voice deliberately innocent.

  As if he doesn’t know. Ben narrowed his eyes. He was not going to play those games. Nate always won. “What is this ‘something’ you want to show me?”

  The fire escape creaked as Nate slid onto it. “Out here.”

  Ben leaned out the open window. He breathed in the New Camden night. The familiar smell of burnt rubber and rust met his nose. In the street beneath them, a steady stream of cars passed despite the lateness of the hour.

  Ben frowned as his nose caught a smell he associated with Nate—the earthy smell of growing things. His eyes picked out dark shapes that rustled in the slight breeze. “Plants on the fire escape? I’m pretty sure that’s a hazard.”

  “Relax, Mr. Landlord.” Nate had descended the stairs to the platform halfway between his room and Ben’s. “They’re not in anyone’s way. Turn the light on?”

  Ben did as he was told. The light illuminated a collection of house plants. Hanging out with Nate had done wonders for Ben’s plant knowledge. He thought he recognized a few of them. “You’ll have to move these before the next safety inspection.”

  “Don’t worry about that now.” Nate put his hands in the pocket of his jeans. “Watch the morning glory.”

  Which was the morning glory? Ben frowned at the pots, and then he realized—one of the vines was moving. It was twined around the railing, with broad leaves and tightly wound dark-blue buds. As Ben watched, the buds unfolded into rich blue flowers, their perfume adding a sweet note to the night air. “You’re doing that?”

  “Cool, right?” Nate grinned. “And no hands.”

  Ben’s head jerked up, and quickly back to the plants. Nate’s eyes were flushed with pleasure, and his grin said only too clearly how pleased he was with himself. Ben’s heart lurched. “Impressive.” He hesitated. From being entirely ignorant of his powers, to refining his use of them in less than a month… It was an achievement for anyone, especially for Nate, who had resisted his supernatural abilities for most of his life. “You’ve come a long way, Nate.”

  “Not bad for a guy who doesn’t even know what he is.” The fire escape creaked again as Nate shuffled. “Actually… I was thinking of celebrating my progress by going out for dinner. You want to come?”

  Ben drew a deep breath. There it is. The moment he’d been dreading. “A date?”

  “Not necessarily.” Nate’s shoulders hunched. The shadows hid his face, but Ben had too good an idea of his expression. “I mean, we’re friends, right? And friends do things together.”

  Ben clenched the windowsill. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? We’re important to each other, so why pretend otherwise? Not seeing each other is—well, it’s stupid. What are you afraid of? Getting involved? We’re already involved.”

  Ben’s mouth twisted. That boat had long sailed. “It’s not that.”

  “So what is it?” Nate ran a hand through his hair. “We decided we needed time to get ourselves together, right? And in that time, I haven’t seen you at all.”

  “I’m working on things.”

  “Are you? Because it feels like—” Nate caught himself with a rapid intake of breath.

  Ben’s hands tightened on the railing. “Like I’m avoiding you?”

  The railing creaked as Nate leaned heavily against it. “I wasn’t going to say that. I don’t want to pressure you. But at the same time—”

  “You can’t help feeling what you feel.” Ben breathed out. He’d been so focused on the end goal of their separation that he hadn’t stopped to think how Nate might take it.

  “When I don’t hear anythin
g from you, it’s really easy to worry. I’m not asking much. Just—an update every now and then.”

  “An update.” Ben wrapped his arms around himself.

  “So I know you haven’t forgotten me.”

  It was impossible to think of forgetting Nate. Might as well talk about forgetting a hurricane! He’d waltzed into Ben’s life, turning it upside down, leaving Ben reeling from the sheer force of his personality. “I’m not going to forget you. As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking a lot about us.” He took a deep breath, gripping the windowsill. “I’m lodging an application for humanity.”

  Anyone else would have laughed. Nate climbed the stairs to get a better view of Ben’s expression. “For humanity? You mean—being human?”

  Ben’s heart thumped again as he nodded. “I want my supernatural status overturned and to be recognized as human.”

  “Seriously?” Nate frowned at him. “Why is there even an application for that? You’re the most human person I know.”

  It was patently untrue. Only Nate would have the nerve to lie so badly. Looking up, Ben caught Nate’s gaze and swallowed. He can’t—he doesn’t believe that? “Vampires don’t stop being vampires. This isn’t supposed to happen. I should be dead. Not moving back into my childhood home.”

  “So they still want to treat you like a vampire? That’s ridiculous! What do they think you’re going to do—drink blood?” Nate thumped his hand against the railing. “Department Seven cleared you. Pulse, no aversion to crosses, garlic—hell, you walk around in daylight—”

  Ben smiled faintly. Nate’s belief was somehow welcome. “I’m still on the supernatural register as a vampire.”

  “But you’re obviously not a vampire.”

  “Right. But the supernatural listing means I’m subject to ARX attention. As long as Saltaire thought I was dead, I was safe. But now Hunter’s looking for me, I need to get declassified as soon as possible.”

  “Shit.” Nate straightened. “I didn’t even think of that.”

  Ben smiled thinly. “I’ve got some time. Saltaire’s out of the country. I just have to make sure my application’s approved before he comes back—or before Hunter finds me.”

  “But will your legal status really deter Saltaire? I mean—well, he is a megavampire, right? And he’s already tried to kill you once. Will a bit of red tape really stop him?”

  Megavampire? Ben decided it was better to leave Nate’s appalling ignorance of the supernatural for another time. “This particular red tape, yes. Saltaire might be a law unto himself, but he’s got a code that he sticks to. Supernatural creatures, other vampires, magic-users, they’re all fair game. But he will never kill a human. That’s where he draws the line.”

  “And vampires don’t change.” Nate twisted one of the morning glory’s leaves in his fingers. “What does getting classified as human entail?”

  Ben shrugged. “It’s hard to say. There’s a precedent for getting declassified as a magic-user or occult specialist, but going from something like vampire… As far as I know, I’m the first to apply. I’ve got all the information they could possibly need. The results of the Department Seven examination, a medical exam, a letter confirming my identity from my father’s lawyer, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

  “What more could they ask for?”

  Ben took a deep breath. “There’s a good chance they’ll look into my lifestyle. Including my acquaintances.”

  Nate went very still. “Meaning me.”

  “Whether you’re Class Three Unknown or Class Five At Risk doesn’t make a single bit of difference to me. You’re more important to me than anyone else I know,” Ben said immediately. “This won’t be forever. Just until my application is approved.”

  “You should have said something. What if I’d bungled in while—I don’t know—you were being interviewed or something? I could have ruined everything.”

  “I was afraid to tell you.” Ben leaned against the windowsill. “I didn’t want you to be upset. You—being human was such a big part of your identity. Watching me pursue this, knowing you can’t—”

  “It’s a good thing, Ben.” Nate’s hands were warm on Ben’s shoulders. “If it gets Saltaire off your back, a very good thing.”

  Holding himself apart from that warmth was too hard. Ben gave in, leaning against Nate’s chest. “You’re sure?”

  “Totally.” Nate’s arms settled around him. “No one deserves a break more than you, Ben. After all the crap you’ve been through, there’s no way I’d hold this against you.”

  Ben breathed out. Hearing Nate say the words made him realize just how much he’d feared his reaction. “That means a lot.”

  “Hang on a second.” Nate turned down the fire escape. “I’ve got something for you.”

  “For me?” Ben stayed where he was. He heard the scrape as Nate opened his own window and climbed through it.

  Nate’s voice floated back to him. “It’s not much. Sort of a—good luck charm.”

  “I wasn’t aware your talents extended to luck. Or is this like your premonitions?”

  “Careful, or I might decide to keep it.” The fire escape announced Nate’s return. He held out his hand to Ben. “Here. I was planning to put it on a piece of leather, so you could wear it if you wanted.”

  It was an acorn, plump and glossy in Nate’s hand. Ben took it, relishing the smoothness of the seed. “An acorn?”

  “It’s small, but it’s strong—strong enough to become an oak.” Nate glanced at him. “It’s from the tree in Mason’s Park.”

  Ben’s head snapped up. “Where you got murdered?” He didn’t think he’d ever forget the horror of finding Nate’s dead body beneath the oak. “You went back there? Why?” That was the last place Ben wanted to go.

  “That tree kept us safe from the revenants. And it’s where I figured out how to find you again and where you found me. It reminds me, even when the worst happens, we can—and have—overcome it.”

  Finding strength in his own death? Ben caught his breath. Once again, Nate had taken him entirely unaware. “I’d never thought of it like that.”

  “I usually keep it in my pocket. If I’m having a bad day, or something happens, it’s a good reminder of my own strength.”

  “This is yours? Nate, I can’t take this—”

  “I want you to have it. If I can’t be around to remind you how strong you are, then this is a good reminder.”

  Ben’s hand tightened around the acorn. “It won’t be forever. Just until I get declassified.”

  “I know.” Nate placed his hand over Ben’s. “Until then.” He leaned in.

  I shouldn’t do this. Ben’s body tugged toward Nate, as if they were magnetically charged. He braced himself, but the touch of Nate’s mouth on his was still a shock. Nate was electric, the contact between them sending a buzz through Ben’s entire body. And weakened by days without any contact at all, Ben responded to it greedily. He tangled his fingers into the cloth of Nate’s T-shirt, holding him close as he sank into the kiss.

  Nate hummed, a satisfied sound that rippled through Ben. How dare he sound so pleased with himself? Ben squeezed Nate’s arm in warning, as he fought for control of the kiss. It didn’t matter what he did. Nate was a master at this, and Ben’s heart pounded with awareness of how neatly he was trapped. And with Nate’s smooth lips trapping his tongue, his earthy scent mingling with the morning glory in every breath Ben took, he didn’t care—

  He surged toward Nate, needing to feel more of him and collided with the edge of the ledge. Ben jerked back in pain. The arm not holding the acorn was still tangled around Nate’s shoulders—I don’t even remember when that happened—and Nate’s arms wrapped around his back. Ben took a deep breath.

  And stepped back.

  Nate let go as he did, straightening. The light from Ben’s bedroom caught his lips, made them shine. His eyes were almost completely dark. His cheeks were flushed, and it took him a moment to get his breathing under control.
>
  Ben’s own chest rose and fell rapidly. He sucked in a breath, aware of just how close he’d come to succumbing to Nate’s charm. A part of him cried out to be trapped again. “Good night, Nate.” Oh fuck. He sounded shaky—far too breathless.

  Nate’s mouth curved in amusement. “Night, Ben.” He turned, making his way down the fire escape. As he reached the platform beside his window, his voice floated back to Ben. “Don’t be a stranger.” His window clicked shut behind him.

  Ben breathed out. He pulled the window of his room down. “Dangerous.” Every second he spent around Nate, the man got further beneath his skin.

  And is that so bad? Ben tried to stamp down on the thought, but it persisted. He saved your life. Really cares about you. Wants what’s best for you—

  But that was the problem. Ben took a deep breath. He didn’t know who he was. He had to figure that out first. Otherwise, he’d end up influenced by Nate.”

  Is that such a bad thing?

  Ben’s grip on the acorn tightened. Their relationship was too important to end up tainted, like… He swallowed. Thinking of his vampire family was always hard. He’d trusted them. Believed them. Really thought he was doing what he wanted… And now, he could never be sure just how far he’d been influenced.

  Nate’s not Saltaire—or Hunter. He’s not even a vampire.

  He was unknown. Ben put the acorn in his pocket and pulled the curtains firmly shut. No. It had to be this way.

  Chapter Two

  “SO. DID BREAKING into his apartment impress Ben with your strength of character or are you looking at a restraining order?”

  Nate jolted back to his surroundings. He was standing in the center of the jogging track that looped around Mason’s Park, and judging from the dirty looks passing joggers sent him, he’d been there some time. In front of him stood Aki, Nate’s best friend and roommate, his hands on hips, drumming one foot against the path.

  “I wasn’t doing it to impress him.” Nate resumed their jog.

  Aki easily fell into pace beside him. “Didn’t work then. Why am I not surprised?”