He shook his head. “No, of course not. The bottled stuff is just fine. So, what do you think?”
“Think about what?”
“Me moving out. Getting my own place. I’ve got the money.” It was true. He could certainly afford to rent a decent place by himself. What had started as a lie to pacify his sister could be just the solution to his problem. He wouldn’t have to be alone with Thomas anymore. They would only see each other at work. And even there, he might not see him all the time. They wouldn’t always be partnered up. Particularly if Thomas weren’t mentoring him anymore. Maybe by putting a little distance between them, they could preserve their friendship.
“Do you want me to look around for you to see what’s out there?” she offered with a smile.
“That would be great, Sis.”
“Do you have a particular neighborhood in mind?”
He shrugged. “Just something central. I don’t want to live out in the boonies. Somewhere in town, nothing too residential. And not in Stroller Central either.”
Nina’s brows snapped together. “Stroller Central?”
“Yes, Noe Valley. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard that nickname?”
Nina laughed. “No, I hadn’t. But now that you mention it, it’s very fitting, with all the couples with small children running around. Okay then, I’ll look around for you. I’m sure we can find you something nice and affordable.”
“Find him what?” Amaury’s voice came from the door.
“A flat. Eddie wants to move out and live on his own.”
Eddie’s gaze collided with Amaury’s.
“Oh. Thomas hasn’t mentioned anything about you moving out.”
Eddie swallowed. “I haven’t told him yet.” And he had no idea how and when to tell him.
This was not a conversation he looked forward to, even though he knew he had to have it—soon, before things got out of hand. In the end, it would be best. They could simply be colleagues and friends with a clear boundary between them that neither would cross again.
13
Thomas entered the windowless room and perused it. Nothing had changed. It was sparsely furnished with a couple of benches, a rack with various ropes and chains, and several whips, canes, and other tools used for flagellation. He possessed most of them himself and stored them in his basement in a room he’d used for sexual games with his various partners. Mild bondage and self-flagellation had all been part of his regular routine, but since Eddie had moved in with him, he’d barely used the room. Certainly not for any sexual games with other men. He’d only on occasion used it to flog himself whenever he’d felt his dark power rise. He’d beat it back into submission by using a cattail whip usually made of knotted cords, the same kind of tool the members of Opus Dei had used during private prayer. Only, he wasn’t praying.
And tonight, he needed something more than just the mild flogging he could deal himself. He needed a firmer hand that could beat his dark power into submission.
Thomas walked to the sink in one corner and took off his jacket, letting it fall onto the chair next to it. When he pulled the T-shirt over his head, he could clearly see the deep cuts his claws had left on his stomach. They hadn’t healed yet and would only do so once he’d had a few hours of restorative sleep and sufficient fresh human blood.
He opened the button of his leather pants and slid the zipper down. Tossing off his boots and socks, he finally stripped naked. His cock was semi-erect, a reaction to the smell of Eddie’s semen that still clung to his hands. He’d not washed it off him, but simply wiped it on his T-shirt, although he’d run home to get his motorcycle and would have had an opportunity to clean up if he’d wanted to.
Thomas stared at the sink. He could wash his hands now and make this easier on himself by not being reminded constantly of what he couldn’t have. But he’d never been one to take the easy route when there was a more challenging one he could choose instead. Did that make him a masochist?
The cracked mirror didn’t give him any answers—there was no reflection in it.
Slowly he turned and walked toward the rack. It was of simple construction, with several bars anchored in the floor and reaching up to the ceiling. On a crossbar, several leather straps hung suspended. Thomas reached up and slid his hands into the loops, pulling down on them so they tightened around his wrists. While his vampire strength made it possible for him to rip free of the restraints, he liked the illusion of being tied up and feeling powerless.
It all helped him trick the dark power back into submission. The dark power felt everything his body felt. If Thomas was in pain and felt at the mercy of his tormentor, so was the dark power inside him. It would believe that it wasn’t as powerful as it was and retreat, afraid of being destroyed. As long as he could pretend to be powerless, he had a chance of defeating the evil inside him. It was the reason he liked to play the submissive partner, even though he was anything but. Whenever his dominant side emerged, his dark power appeared with it and broke through the surface, just as it had earlier.