CHAPTER 102: CHAPTER 102: DEATH AND GOOD WINE

Matteo’s laughter pitched higher, wild and unmoored, echoing in the narrow corridor like glass skittering across tile. His ether lashed the walls in uneven bursts, burning hairline fractures into plaster and air alike, a storm without a center.

Victor only watched.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, in amusement, the kind that came from watching a clock run out on time you’d already stolen. "You’re finished," he said quietly.

He wanted to test more, to see where Matteo’s madness would go, but his bond started to prickle his nape in the same place he bit Elias. A hum, faint but clear, thrumming along the bond that linked him to Elias. It wasn’t panic or fear. Just Elias moving somewhere beyond the crowd, alive and well and, if Victor knew him, probably irritated about something. Probably at him for leaving him alone in a sea infested with sharks in tailored suits. He had to finish this and return to his fussy mate.

Matteo, still thrashing in the grip of his own ether, had already ceased to matter. He was a candle with a wet wick, guttering out, and Victor had no interest in watching it sputter any longer.

He stepped forward once, just enough to catch Matteo’s faltering gaze. "You should thank him," Victor said softly, almost like an afterthought. "You got to live longer than you were meant to."

And then the ether shifted.

Not the invasive, winding pressure from before, but a clean, decisive blade of red that severed everything in Matteo’s channels at once. The current snapped back into his core like a trap closing, and the scream that tore from his throat was brief, almost swallowed by the vacuum left behind.

Matteo’s body crumpled before the echo faded.

Victor didn’t wait for the stillness to settle. His own ether slid back under his skin, quiet as a tide going out, leaving nothing but the metallic tang of ozone in the air. One last glance confirmed what he already knew. Matteo wouldn’t be getting up.

The hum along his bond flared again, warm and alive.

Victor’s expression softened just enough to be dangerous. "Coming," he murmured, more to himself than to the empty hall, before turning away and walking back toward Elias as though he’d only stepped out for a moment’s air.

Ashwin was exactly where Victor expected him, leaning against the shadowed edge of the corridor’s mouth, posture casual enough to fool anyone who didn’t know him, eyes sharp enough to slice. He’d been watching from the moment Elias disappeared into the crowd, his attention divided between the safety of his charge and whatever Victor intended to leave behind.

Victor didn’t slow as he passed him. "Dispose of it," he said, voice low, the faintest curl of authority making it less a request and more an inevitability. "No one tells him. "

Ashwin’s gaze flicked once to Matteo’s crumpled form, then back to Victor. He didn’t ask for details. "Consider it done," he replied evenly, already stepping into the corridor, the faint crackle of residual red ether brushing over his skin.

Victor didn’t look back. The hum in his bond was growing stronger, drawing him like a compass point he had no desire to resist. He followed it through the ebb and flow of the crowd, the oppressive warmth of bodies and perfume parting under the weight of his presence.

Elias spotted him before he spoke, of course he did, and the faint furrow in his brow deepened, that telltale sign of irritation Victor almost found endearing. Almost.

Victor came to stand beside him, letting his hand brush lightly over the small of Elias’s back, just enough for the contact to anchor. "We can go," he said, pitched low for him alone.

Elias gave him a long, considering look, as if weighing whether to make him pay for whatever he’d been doing. But the tension in his shoulders eased a fraction, and when Victor guided him toward the exit, he didn’t resist.

—

The car door shut behind them with a muted thud, shutting out the hum of the venue. Elias exhaled, leaning back against the leather seat as the city lights slid across his profile in fractured gold and shadow.

Victor settled beside him, one arm draped casually along the backrest, the other adjusting his cuff before he reached for the in-seat console. "Do you want to eat?" His tone was deceptively mild, as if the question weren’t already answered in his mind.

Elias glanced at him sidelong. "You’ve already decided, haven’t you?"

A faint smile ghosted across Victor’s mouth. "Naturally. I made a reservation two hours ago." He tapped something on the console, the subtle shift of the car’s direction telling Elias they were no longer heading straight home. "Corner table. Good wine. And the chef doesn’t flinch when I tell him exactly what I want."

"You mean what you want for me," Elias murmured, but his voice lacked bite. The heat and noise of the hall had left him with the kind of taut weariness that made the thought of someone else handling the details almost... tolerable.

Victor leaned in just enough for his shoulder to brush Elias’s. He hummed, deceptively easy, like a man offering a choice while knowing it was already made. "You can be the one ordering, if you want."

Elias’s mouth curved faintly, though whether in amusement or challenge was hard to tell. "And watch you correct the waiter behind my back? No, thank you."

The faintest glint passed through Victor’s eyes, approval, satisfaction, something more private, before he reached out and adjusted the fall of Elias’s cuff. Then, as if the fabric no longer mattered, he changed his mind and took Elias’s hand in his. His thumb brushed over the ridge of bone before he brought the hand closer, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to his knuckles.

"Then let me feed you," he murmured, the words low enough to blur the line between promise and command.

Elias didn’t pull away. His gaze lingered on Victor, steady and assessing, but his fingers curled just slightly in return, a quiet concession that Victor felt like a shift in the air itself.

The car slid around a corner, the lights outside breaking over them in bands of gold and shadow, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the city had receded. Leaving only the hum of the engine, the warmth of Victor’s hand, and the unspoken agreement that, for tonight at least, he would let Victor decide.