Hunted - 3

“Not very sociable is he,” Noah commented as he watched the red-haired man walk past the living room without acknowledging Kief’s ‘Hello’. 

Skye nodded in agreement. “Perhaps he’s just shy,” she said before she turned back to the television.

“More stand-offish I’d say,” Kief told them. “Like talking isn’t his thing. At least to strangers.”

“What I don’t get is why he’s in the attic. That smacks of something out of a horror flick.” Noah laughed as he made a grab for Skye. “I will drink your blood,” he intoned.   

With a roll of her eyes she ducked away. “Behave, I’m trying to watch this you nut.”

“And what is ‘this’?” Noah asked.

“The newest vampire show. It’s bad but the lead is like whew.”

The two men took a look and shook their heads. “Too fem,” Noah told her.

“And too short,” Kief added. “Vampires should be tall, dark and handsome with an air of mystery about them.”

“Yeah, but he’s still hot,” Skye protested.

“Whoa, who’s that?” Kief asked, his eyes now locked on the screen.

“That’s the werewolf. He’s the bad guy but yeah, sexy as hell.” Skye gave a passionate sigh. “I’d give my eyeteeth to meet him in person.”

“He’s probably a self-centered bastard. Most of those TV actors are,” Kief said.

Noah cocked an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”

Kief chuckled. “I read the papers by the checkout line at the supermarket.”

“Which of course tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but,” Noah replied with a snort.

“Yeah, well, at least they’re amusing.” He leaned against Noah as he asked Skye to fill them in on the plot of the show.

* * * *

Across town one of the stars of the vampire show restrained himself—only because he was in public—as he looked across the restaurant table at his companion. “What the hell do you mean you’re moving out?” Brice Davies said with cold fury, his voice pitched low enough not to carry further than his companion’s ears.

“Just what I said Brice,” his companion replied quietly, “I’m over it. I got an offer for a good job in New York, and I’m taking it. I hate this city, I hate hanging around waiting until you decide to come home. I hate having to hide our relationship under the guise of friendship. Hell I hate…damned near everything right now. My things are packed. All that was left was to find a minute to fit into your busy schedule so I could let you know.”

“You don’t walk out on me,” Brice growled.

“Watch me.” His companion stood with a satisfied smile on his face, dropped his napkin on the table and strolled away without a backward glance.

Brice started to get up then sank back down in his chair. “He’s not worth it,” he said under his breath. He picked up his fork and continued to eat as if nothing had happened. "There’s plenty more where he came from. Tons of men dying to have me notice them," he muttered in a vain attempt to convince himself that things were all right. But deep down there was the fear it wasn’t really the truth.