Luke rubbed his face. He hadn't touched that part of him that still wanted Marcus's return in a long time, which was odd for him. The ashes had been cold to the touch, but just being near him made them spark up again. If he hadn't just been so close to Cory, however, he might have missed the very subtle pull he felt. He cleared his throat. “I suppose you can come in. If you want."
"Is that all you have to say?"
"It's all I want to, yes,” Luke said. He stepped back and made Marcus open the storm door himself. “What brings you here?” He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it, regardless.
Marcus stepped into the house, but the pet was brought up short. “The boy, too."
"The boy can wait outside,” Luke said and moved to the sitting room. “You won't be staying long."
"I agree. This is hardly a suitable abode. What happened to the house I left you?"
"An upswing to downtown property value. I believe it's a condo now,” Luke said. “You're not staying here."
Marcus didn't appear to hear him. “There is power here, Luke. Enough for all of us. You'll be coming back to my family. Maybe not as my pet, but I will have need of your services. We must move now. Staking out territory happens quickly.
"I'm not going with you,” Luke said. He stirred the ashes inside himself. Examined them. But now that he had identified the pull, there was nothing at all. Marcus's dark looks would always be classically beautiful. The eyes could still pierce. His jaw line was still regal. But he paled in comparison to Cory. “I think I'm really over you."
"Funny,” Marcus said. “I made you. You belong to me."
"You set me free,” Luke said. “I felt it when you released me. Did you think I'd stay there, pining for you?” It was ridiculous to hear it, especially since up to—had it only been a week? Less?—a few days ago, it would have been true. “You made your choice. I made mine."
"Luke—"
Luke held out his hand. “Take your pet and go,” he said.
Marcus grabbed Luke by the throat, trying to pin him against the wall, but Luke had no problem peeling back Marcus's hand. Marcus was still strong; Luke felt that in his wrist. It was just ... Luke was stronger. Whatever Cory had done to him made him stronger. Marcus's eyes were wide, but he didn't protest as Luke showed him to the door.
Marcus tried grabbing his wrist again. “Better to be with me than against. I would offer you more than other family could possibly."
Luke shook his head and turned away. “It's not going to come to that."
"I was afraid you were going to say that."
Luke saw him reach into the inner pocket of his jacket. He smelled the scent of the black cigarettes and was about to tell him not to light up in his house when he felt the pin prick in his neck. “You've always been too trusting."
"Fuck yourself on a cactus,” Luke managed, and was falling again.
Luke woke, wrapped in the chains that Lathe had made, on the floor in the backseat of Marcus's black car. They didn't touch his bare skin, but he still felt the burning sensation. It wasn't enough to make him black out again, but if he'd been thrust into a bathtub full of razor blades he would have been in less pain. The pet in the passenger seat smelled more of Lathe than Marcus did, but only because the smell of tobacco had covered the original scent up. It had been a setup from the very start.
"The vortex isn't looking for partners,” Luke called. “He only wants slaves to serve and feast on."
"That's not going to happen,” Marcus said. “It's fooling itself if it thinks we're going to allow it to remain free."
"How are you going to stop it?” Luke demanded. “It's stronger than you are. It's stronger than any of us, and it has no weaknesses."
"It has one,” Marcus said. Luke waited and then realized Marcus meant him.
Luke closed his eyes and waited.
Marcus drove to the Deane House. Of course he did. Luke knew it would be a waste of breath to argue the point, how summoning the vortex and trapping it were two different things. They chained him out on the floor of the second-story room, right in front of a window, and the dead were so thick around him that when Luke looked into Lathe's face he saw a dozen dead men and women first. “You're making a mistake,” he said.
"I don't think so. If there was one thing I had miscalculated before, it was the bond the two of you actually had."
"It doesn't think like that. It doesn't think at all, hardly. If you think it is somehow magically attuned to me in danger—"
"You would be absolutely correct,” Cory said from behind Lathe. He'd changed. There was so very little of Cory left, Luke knew by sunrise there would be nothing of him at all. Luke shook his head, wanting to warn Cory off, but by then he already had Lathe up by his throat and dangling several feet off the floor. Marcus appeared frozen, and his pet was motionless beside him.
"Take those chains off him,” Cory said.
The pet was the only one able to comply. Luke stared at him, feeling Marcus through him entirely, and he wondered if he'd been that pathetic when they were together. The hold had seemed absolute, and when Marcus had freed him, he hadn't taken all his chains off. With Cory in the room, Luke felt that he had been kept in that state of complete need for decades, and Marcus had enjoyed it.
The chains fell free, and Luke jumped to his feet. In any other situation he would have taken off all his clothes to completely shed the burning, but he didn't consider it to be very
