Bonedust

the ancient TV towards the bed, adjusting the antenna. Gabriel watched as the snake unbuttoned his shirt, dropping the fabric to the ground and revealing a lithe, lean torso void of any marks—just an expanse of milk-fair skin peppered with iridescent scales. Urban spun and cracked a grin. “Like what you see?”
    “That’s beside the point.”
    “I can be a very patient man, Gabriel.” Snake-eyes glittered. “Now scoot over, I’m not sleeping on the recliner again.” He gave him a nudge, then plopped down on his side of the bed. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on everything.”
    “Don’t you ever sleep?”
    “Eventually.” He ended the conversation by turning the volume up. Gabriel rolled onto his side, his head in the crook of his arm, and thought about a happier time. Only thing was: the happiest he’d ever been was at that lame zombie flick. He felt a smile touch his lips as he played the sound of their conjoined laughter on repeat in his mind and he fell asleep to the moan of the couple in the back seats.

Chapter Nine

    Dante Saunders.
    While Gabriel snored softly beside him, Urban’s mind spun over the events of the last few days. His eyes were glued to the wall, the TV screen illuminating and flickering pictures across the room, but he didn’t really see it.
    In his mind eye, he pictured the man—tall and broad shouldered, his skin sun-kissed and his hair as dark as ebony, falling in crests around his face. His eyes had been beautiful—the deepest shade of pink that darkened to blood red when the man’s hunger grew. Eyes that flickered with emotion, even when he didn’t smile. Dante never smiled. Urban had pointed out that it took more muscles to frown than to smile, but it hadn’t helped any.
    Along the way, something must’ve happened to the man to make him so hard. There’d been plenty of time—he’d been alive for hundreds of years—but as close as they’d been, he’d never trusted Urban with that information. Not even as they cuddled under the blankets, wrapped up in each other’s arms, stealing each other’s breath away with need-filled kisses.
    They’d been partnered up when Urban first started hunting, having to fulfill an apprenticeship under a master hunter to become part of the Guild. Dante had taken one look at him, snorted, and walked away. Urban had had to work his ass off to get the man to notice him. A smile crept up onto his lips as he leaned his head against the headboard. Oh, but it’d been worth it.
    They melded into lovers as easily as a fish cuts through water, spending night after night in each other’s arms. Urban’s face fit perfectly in the crook of the vampire’s neck and he could still remember the way he smelled, the citrus volumizing shampoo that Urban had bought him that Dante claimed he would never use, but did. He remembered the stories Dante would tell about his youth, but they were always stories before his Change. Still, it had been enough.
    Urban had fallen in love with the man just in time for Dante to break his heart over a damn chocolate sundae.
    Gabriel turned over in his sleep, hands curled up to his chest in fists. Urban let his gaze linger on the man’s face; the sharp cheekbones, the strong jaw line, those beautiful lips. He wanted to cuddle up next to him, wrap his arms around the man and kiss him awake. But he had the feeling that would end badly and get him banned from the bed. No. He would be patient. He’d have Gabriel and Gabe would want it. He was just shy.
    Urban slid off the bed, grabbing Pandora’s leash off the doorknob and rousing the dog. She was on her feet in two seconds, dragging him out the door. The night air was cool in his lungs, but not cold enough that his breath came out in a puff. Leaning against the side of the building, he dropped the leash and let the dirgehound sniff and snort around in the overgrown grassy patch.
    He should’ve hated Dante’s guts, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way. In his head, Dante was still the strong, resilient master hunter who taught Urban everything he knew. Dante was a father figure in as many ways as he’d been a lover, as twisted as that was, and for that, a part of him still loved the man. Maybe that’s why he’d never been able to settle down. Who knew?
    Pan’s head jerked up, a huff escaping her as someone staggered towards the motel. After three tries, the man got the door unlocked and pitched into a room three doors down. It slammed soundly