Page 8 of Threads of Crimson 2

We walked to Witch’s Brew where I introduced him to the lovely wives, Carli and Cassi, before stopping in for him to meet the ornery Sonny who owned the Daily Knead. Benji had confessed his love for delicious bakery bread in one of our chats at the club, and I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t miss out on one of his favorite things here.

We finally circled back around to the early 1900s estate building that housed the library behind the center of town. The building’s European craftsmanship made it a standout in our small town, and I’d spent a small fortune restoring it to its former glory while putting in all of the modern updates.

We walked up the long steps to the red double doors that were more reminiscent of a castle than the glass doors of so many modern libraries. Inside was the check-in desk, tables and chairs, and computer stations, along with the rows upon rows of books.

“Lysandro,” Benji whispered. “It has everything, but it feels like entering an enchanted garden in here.”

That had been my doing. My brainchild to have green vines climbing the walls and floral touches everywhere. “I can’t think of anywhere more magical than what we find between the pages of books, can you?”

If I’d still been a breathing man, mine would’ve caught in my throat at the pure delight on his face. He gripped my forearm tightly. “And you can really get me a job here?” he asked.

“It’s already done.”

“Hey, Lysandro,” an older man said as he hobbled on a cane toward the door with a quilted bag his late wife had made him clutched in his hand.

“Larry,” I said with a slight smile. “Did you find everything you needed?”

“Sure did.” He grinned. “My grandkids are coming to see me, so I wanted to read about their hobbies, so we’d have something to talk about. Hard enough fighting their phones for attention.”

“Hey, I’m Benji,” the young man said with a small wave. “Do you need help getting those out to the car or do you need a hand home?”

Larry’s gaze slid from me to Benji. “Well, aren’t you a good boy?” I flinched inwardly. Benji didn’t look too young to me, but I’d also known his age for as long as I’d known him. I’d watched the anti-aging effects of feeding a vampire transform him.

“Benji’s an online college student, Larry. He’s going to be working here from now on.”

“Well, is that right?” He maneuvered his bag in an attempt to shake Benji’s hand, but my newest employee beat him to the punch, taking the bag from him, shaking his hand, and then holding up the bag. “Where we headed?”

Larry huffed a laugh. “My helper is outside. Told her to wait in the car because I can check out a few books without help.”

“Of course you can,” I soothed.

Benji shrugged. “Well, I don’t know anyone but Lysandro yet, so consider it doing me a favor to escort you outside.”

The old man stared at him, wagging a finger to let him know he wasn’t getting anything over on him. “I guess we better go on out then. You can tell me where you’re from.”

Benji mouthed, “I’ll be right back,” and chatted excitedly with Larry as they slowly made their way toward the door.

I needed to remember this moment forevermore. Benji was good, too kind for the likes of me, and I was old enough to have more self-control than I’d shown so far today.

As he came back in, moving swiftly toward me like I held the check for his winning lottery ticket, I wondered what I’d done to anger my goddess because this young man really might be my downfall.

Chapter four

Lysandro

Benji might well be some form of trickster that I’d never heard of. I didn’t know how I could be so blindsided by someone after all these years, but he was proving me wrong. I’d geared myself up for days, then weeks, to let him down gently. To inform him that there would be no more kisses, but he’d never broached the subject.

His small smiles, tiny pets on my back as he passed me in the library, or playful winks when he saw me helping someone might’ve actually been worse. What in the world was he up to? Did he not want to kiss me again? I’d felt his arousal; hell, I’d smelled it.

For the first few weeks, the only question he peppered me with multiple times a day was about where I was staying. Like with the kissing, if it bothered him that I’d never returned to the Belflower Lane house, I saw no signs of it—just curiosity about where I went when the library closed.

“Benji, I need to feed,” I admitted, whispering in his ear as the one other employee tonight grabbed her purse and headed toward the front door.

He whirled around with that bright, happy smile on his face. “Finally.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Only that I got used to you gnawing on me weekly. It’s been five weeks, Lysandro. I was actually getting a little worried that you were either starving yourself or going back to Velvet Vein for your nourishment.”