Chapter Text
~~~~~~
Guy couldn’t stop shaking. Sitting on the sofa in the penthouse, he was painfully aware of how close to death he’d been just half an hour ago. When Jasper had thrown him to the cold concrete floor of the parking garage, he had been pretty sure it was over. How ironic to escape being discovered as a spy, almost being shot and being sold into vampire slavery, only to be taken out by the vampire he had considered an ally.
After admitting he didn't want to die, lying about Doris hadn’t seemed that important anymore. So he had told Jasper what little he knew, let Jasper into his head to show him it was true. He’d only met her once; her name was Doris, and she might know about the book. Or maybe not.
Jasper had paused, his hand still on Guy's throat, taking heavy breaths he didn’t need. And Guy had lain still like a mouse pretending to be dead already when under the paw of a cat.
He had wanted to snarl, to yell, to be defiant in the face of danger, but he also, much more than anything, hadn’t wanted to die. Not here. Not without seeing his mother again. Not without figuring out how to get rid of this empty feeling inside him. He hadn’t wanted to die on the cold, hard ground with no one to care that he was dead but the vampire who had choked the life out of him. After what had seemed like endless minutes, Jasper had huffed.
“You’re not gonna die. Not tonight.”
Then Jasper had pulled him from the floor and carried him to the elevator like a misbehaving puppy. He’d been thrown into the penthouse, stumbling over his own feet, and he’d heard the door lock behind him.
Caught again in a cage with tacky sofas and fancy throw pillows, but not dead yet. So now he sat on the sofa, waiting. He could try to run, but he was sure the revenant vampires would hunt him down within an hour, if that. And he’d seen what Checkers could do to a vampire, let alone a human.
He ran a hand through his hair, wondering if his legs could carry him to the bathroom or maybe the bedroom. Maybe he could hide under the blanket and pretend the world didn't exist, like he used to as a child when the voices in his head became overwhelming.
But he couldn’t get his body to move.
When the door opened again, and Jasper stepped in, Guy put his hands under his legs to hide their shaking. Jasper had gotten rid of his coat and shoes, and Guy had a hard time reconciling the monster that had snarled at his throat with the relaxed older man in grey socks walking through the door.
The door didn’t lock again, but Guy guessed it didn’t have to with Jasper here. Where was he going to run to that Jasper couldn’t find him? He was under no illusion that Hellen or Olive could or would protect him.
“I don’t like liars,” Jasper said, like that explained everything.
“I wasn’t lying. I was just trying to protect someone who was no threat to you! I don’t know why she is following me!” There was the defiance again; he couldn't help it. Jasper looked a little amused.
He took a decanter and two glasses from the dining table, setting them down on the small table before Guy, before sitting down on the sofa across from him.
“I don’t think she is following you, as pretty as you might be. I think she is following the 752.” Guy frowned, not just at being called pretty. So they were going to pretend the little murderous brawl in the garage hadn’t happened?
“So it was at the Westcroft?” he asked, confused. There had been other vampires there, but their thoughts had been unremarkable, hunger and sex. Like most people.
Jasper pushed the whiskey toward him, and Guy took it with shaking hands. Why were his hands still shaking? Absentmindedly, he reached for the pills in his pocket before he remembered he’d poured them out onto the streets of London. Jasper must have been in his head again, and it was disconcerting that Guy couldn’t tell, because his eyebrows went up.
“The withdrawal is going to be a bitch, Babe,” he said, sipping from his own glass, “But your mind feels sharper already. And no, I don’t think the book was there; she seemed to have the same intel as us. I am sure we’ll see her again.”
Guilt made Guy's stomach churn. Doris had saved his life as much as Checkers and Jasper had, and in return, he’d betrayed her.
“Don’t worry about your little witch friend, we’ll try not to hurt her unless we have to.” Guy wasn’t sure how much that was worth, since he could already feel the bruises forming on his wrists from when Jasper had held him down.
“Okay,” he said noncommittally. Jasper took another sip from his glass, and Guy gave in to his shaking hand and buzzing head and drained his. Maybe it would help.
Jasper watched him for a moment before he continued.
“Molloy is in London. He’s doing a book reading this evening in Soho. You said he was thinking of the 752 the last time you spoke to him?”
Guy nodded.
“Before he almost ate me.” Molloy had made no secret of his anger at the Talamasca—or his hunger.
“We are going to go to the reading, I am coming with you, so no picking up girls this time, ya?” Jasper drained his glass as well and gave Guy a friendly smile.
“So how about you get some sleep, and I’ll wake you in time for tea?”
Guy felt like he was turning his back on a tiger when he got up and walked toward the bedroom. He could hear Jasper snort behind him at the thought.
“I am not gonna eat you, Guy. But don’t lie to me again”
~~~~~~~
He woke to the sound of pots and pans clattering somewhere in the penthouse and Jasper cursing loudly. Something also seemed to be burning. Without much thought, he rolled out of bed, wincing at the bruises on his back and arms, which only really seemed to be hurting now after he had rested, and wandered toward the noise.
He found Jasper in a chef-style kitchen next to the second bathroom, losing the battle against what looked like scrambled eggs.
“Are you making me breakfast?” he asked incredulously, because there seemed to be no other explanation for the ancient vampire cursing at a pan of burned eggs. Jasper gave him a self-deprecating grin.
“I was trying to. But it has been a long time since I needed to cook for myself or anyone else.”
Guy wondered at the odd coven of humans and vampires Jasper had grown up in, and whether the vampires used to cook for their family while the family offered their blood. It seemed both fucked up and strangely domestic, much like Jasper cooking for him now.
Guy moved past Jasper, pulled the eggs from the stove, and dumped them onto a plate already set with bacon and some kind of English sausage. He wasn’t a great cook either, but he had learned to take care of himself.
“Thank you,” he said, holding up the plate, and Jasper nodded at him with a genuine smile.
“Bring it to the table if you like, there is some stuff we need to talk about for tonight.” His eyes lingered on Guy, and he realised he was standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but his underwear.
“I can keep it warm for you if you want to put some clothes on first. There are clothes on the chair next to the bed.”
Maybe it was the smell of the food after nearly twenty hours without eating, or his hackles rising at Jasper once again insisting on dressing him, but he shook his head. He tucked in as soon as he sat down at the table, not minding that everything carried a faintly burned flavour.
Jasper watched him bemusedly from the other end of the table and let him eat, sipping from a mug that might have contained coffee or blood; Guy wasn’t sure.
“Both actually. It helps bring out the flavour of the coffee.” Jasper answered a question Guy hadn’t asked.
Stay out of my head, Guy thought at him intentionally, and Jasper grinned.
“You are getting better at that now, without the pills. The projecting. Now you just have to work on shielding yourself. Right now, anyone could walk into your pretty head.”
Guy rolled his eyes. No one had been rummaging around in his head as much as Jasper lately.
“We’ll leave in an hour. Thankfully, Molloy is bound by the same timetable as I; his reading starts after sunset. He knows you, so I think you should ask him to meet us after the reading. I have some information for him that makes it unlikely he will turn us down.”
Guy chewed his bacon thoughtfully. He couldn’t really see Molloy wanting to help them, though maybe if Jasper explained his Talamasca vendetta, he might be more forthcoming.
“What kind of information?” Guy asked, wondering whether Jasper would answer, whether their honesty and sharing of information truly went that far. Jasper grinned. Of course, he had read his mind again.
“Molloy is looking for his maker. Owen still has access to the Talamascas network, and he found out his last known location. I think that would be worth a lot to Molloy.”
Guy pondered that. He wondered what kind of vampire had looked at the sarcastic, arrogant author in his late sixties and decided he should live forever. Some kind of madman, probably.
“Where is his last known location?” he asked. His plate was empty now, and his stomach felt a lot better. He wanted nothing more than a shower, but he was still curious.
Jasper sipped his blood coffee and smiled.
“London.”