Page 81 of Surface Scratch
Marcus took his hand as they exited the bedroom, and for the first time in a week, Caleb felt apprehension building in his chest at the sounds coming from the living room and kitchen. He’d been expecting a small gathering of people to be present for Marcus’s birthday, but based on the noise, it didn’t sound small at all.
Caleb gulped as the rooms came into view and every single person stopped what they were doing to look at them. There were so many of them. There had to be at least twenty people scattered about, all with drinks in their hands. All of them impossibly good-looking.
And all of them with that same intense gaze.
“Are they all…” Caleb began to whisper, his cheeks growing hot.
“Yes,” Marcus said, beaming with pride, those little wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “Except Ophelia, of course. She’s just weird.”
Ophelia narrowed her eyes at her dad from the kitchen where she was pouring a drink, dozens of bottles lined up on the kitchen island in front of her.
“Al’ahmaq.” She sneered.
Tariq, standing beside her in the kitchen, spat his drink back into his glass before he started laughing.
Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “It’s still swearing even if it’s in Arabic,” he grumbled. He took a moment to compose himself before smiling at the large gathering. “You guys don’t need to make a big deal out of yet another birthday, but I’m glad you’re all here, nonetheless,” he said. “This is Caleb Walsh, my boyfriend.”
The heat in his cheeks wrapped around to his ears as his stomach swooped at the words. That was the first time he’d heard Marcus say that.
“I expect all of you to behave yourselves around him. He’s human and delicate,” Marcus said to the room.
“Certainly didn’t sound delicate,” one of them said into his glass before he took a drink, his deep voice heavily accented with a southern drawl.
Caleb wanted to curl into a ball and die right there.
Marcus kissed his cheek. “Now, now, my little togaki, you should see if Ophelia will make you something to drink. Let me deal with these animals.”
“Alcohol. Yes. Okay.” Caleb nodded, his eyes fixed on Ophelia. There were too many people looking at him. At least when he was at the club, the only people that ever looked at him were people who needed the bathroom.
He avoided their eyes as he crossed the room, trying to will away the color flushing his face. He couldfeeltheir gazes on him.
“You’re going to have to get used to being looked at like a piece of meat,” Ophelia said as she handed a mug to Angel.
That answers that question.Caleb gave the doorman a tentative smile as he walked past.
“Give me something strong,” he said quietly, leaning on the countertop of the island, his back to the rest of the room as the murmur of voices started up again.
“Strong like ‘fuck me up, fam,’ or strong like ‘I need an ambulance later?’” she said, grabbing a tall glass.
Caleb peered over his shoulder, locking eyes—well no, not eyes—eye, with an umber skinned man with an eyepatch who looked like he was made of glass, his one visible eye completely engulfed in blackness. He gave Caleb a gentle smile and raised his glass in his direction.
Before he realized it, they had all done it. Raised their glasses to him, just for a moment without once ceasing their conversations.
“Aw, they like you,” Tariq said as Caleb turned away from them.
He hunched his shoulders. This was definitely too much. He had thought he’d changed after coming back to Marcus’s from the abandoned railyard warehouse the previous week. He felt changed, almost on a molecular level. Apparently, all it took was a room full of vampires to make him feel small and anxious again.
But maybe this was different. He wanted to slink away, but mostly because he was worried he was going to start smiling. This attention… it felt nice. That was a pompous thing to feel, right?
“Why?” Caleb asked Tariq.
“Are you kidding? You and Marcus got the Society out of town again before they could fuck with any of them. A few of them would kiss your feet if Marcus wouldn’t break their faces for doing it.” Tariq laughed, swirling his straw in a bubbling red drink. He looked at Ophelia. “Give him a Four Horseman.”
Ophelia wore a devilish smirk. “Oh, that’s a great choice,” she said as she began grabbing bottles.
Caleb groaned. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“Of course,” Ophelia said.
