12 Chapter 12

Morton set the empty vessel in the sink and then reached in for another. Two should do it for now. Twisting off the lid, he brought it to his lips.

“Morton.”

“Seymour,” he gasped, dropping the bottle and falling to his knees. Blood poured from the bottle, all over the floor, coating his bare skin. His breath knocked from him, Morton glanced quickly around, but there was no one. He was alone in the kitchen. Yet Seymour had whispered his name in his ear.

Or it had seemed so.

But pushing out his preternatural senses, he could feel no one in the house other than himself. No one even in the immediate area who was an immortal.

Yet…

His stomach twisted in knots and his temples pounded.

“Seymour?” he whispered faintly, but he received no response.