One Crossroads Later

Chapter One

Vampires weren't supposed to have dreams.

And yet, as Flynn opened his eyes, not only could he recall every gruesome detail, the sounds also still echoed in his mind, making the wade into consciousness jarring. It took a few moments of sitting upright and blinking into the darkness for him to recall where he fell asleep, let alone with whom. Vague scenes replayed from earlier, reminding him of a club and a couple who'd complimented his suit.

Glancing to his side he saw them asleep, naked and with fresh teeth marks scattered across their bodies.

Something about their pulses eased his mind, as if he'd had enough death in his dreams and didn't need to contend with more just yet. Their chests rose and fell, taking in breath; the man sleek and muscled and the woman, a beautiful brunette with pert breasts. He let himself relive the taste of between her legs, the sensation of the man inside him as their bodies moved in tandem.

With a sigh, Flynn glanced away from the temptation of waking them. It wasn't only the dream that had his nerves rattled, if he had to be honest.

You're avoiding your phone, he thought while sliding out of bed. The satin sheets let him move without making too much noise and as his feet hit carpeted floor, the couple barely flinched. Flynn sighed, looking at the mounds of strewn clothing and examining them for what looked like his pants.

Ah, there you are. Let's hope the phone didn't fall out.

He padded across the large, master bedroom; the place the couple had brought him back to once their intentions had been made clear. As he bent to collect his dress slacks, he picked them up by the belt and fished inside the pockets. They'd disrobed each other hurriedly.

He'd taken care of his hands before arriving at the club.

Extracting his phone, he also fished for the cigarettes he knew were in the other pocket and the flip-top lighter under them

Flynn took out one of the cigarettes and lit the end. Walking to the railing, he relaxed an arm against it and, with his other hand, turned on the screen of his iPhone to scroll through the messages. The one from Robin made him wince. He didn't bother to read the preview, his thumb scrolling down until he reached the message he'd expected. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he drew from the filter while loading the text.

'You haven't come home yet.'

Taking the cigarette from his mouth, Flynn exhaled smoke and pondered his response. 'Dozed off with company,' he typed with his thumbs. 'Needed to blow off steam. I'll be back later.' Hitting send, Flynn lowered the hand holding the phone and drew from the cigarette again, his eyes tracing across the Philadelphia skyline. It really was a lovely sight, and had he not received a response to his message, he might have considered shutting off his phone and crawling back into bed.

'Come home before sunrise. Robin already knows.'

"Fuck," Flynn said, shutting his eyes and pointing his face toward heaven. These were the feelings he'd been avoiding; the inherent guilt and crash of emotion after hitting such a high. In his five years as a vampire, Flynn had killed his share of people and had eclipsed the days of feeling a shred of remorse. This kill had been different, though. This kill had been an elder vampire.

The memory threatened to flash across his mind, but he shook his head to stop it. No, he wasn't ready for that yet. It had been a baffling and nerve-wracking encounter; something he'd trained for years to do. The younger, more overlooked vampires he'd murdered as practice hadn't fought nearly as hard or made him chase them nearly as far. There was a moment Flynn worried that he wouldn't be able to finish the execution. That he'd return to Sabrina and report his effort failed.