8 Chapter 8

Over Graham’s immortal soul.

“Graham?”

“Come, let us rest.” He took Morton’s hand and led him to their windowless bedroom on the first floor. He locked the door carefully, setting the immortal alarm he had crafted several years ago. In the floor was a trapdoor that, if necessary, they could open and use to escape into a tunnel that ended across town. Also something Graham had had done when they bought the house.

Without bothering to turn on the light—they didn’t need it to see with their preternatural sight—he undressed Morton, who remained mostly silent, his expression vaguely shell-shocked. Graham couldn’t blame him. Seymour had been tormenting Morton since he’d first made Morton a vampire. The last time, before they’d finally believed Seymour had been destroyed, Morton had been nearly killed himself. Graham would not let that happen again.

“Lie down, love.” Graham gently pushed his now naked lover toward their bed.