Lying flat with a heavy weight on his back with a rock jabbing his hip and cold dirt against his stomach where his shirt had ridden up wasn't how he planned his afternoon.

He hadn't actually planned on doing anything.

But Milton wanted him to train. He also suspected the old man wanted to test his abilities after returning from the dead. Kane complained but couldn't refuse, not when they had unexpected downtime, and he'd be a fool not to utilize that rarity.

The only problem was that Milton wasn't just training him.

After years of refusing to participate in anything close to exercise, Reid finally asked Milton to teach him to fight. The old man looked like he wanted to jump for joy. His eyes were ecstatic.

Dad had always wanted to teach Reid a few things, at least for self-defence, but Reid was lazy, and work was his least favourite word.

Kane agreed, giving Reid some pointers was a good idea. The idiot got himself into enough trouble. Knowing how to swing a sword, especially now, with the shit they were constantly finding themselves in, was necessary.

But there was a major issue.

Reid, who watched television through the night, only to fall asleep, drooling on the couch, familiar.

Reid bothering him into a fit of rage, irritating.

Reid, who tried to cuddle him relentlessly at night until he gave up and allowed the idiot to snuggle against his chest while Hannah slept soundly on the other side, eye-rolling.

Reid sparring in the middle of the woods, fucking unsettling.

It was as if the violence brought out Reid's vampire side.

Kane was sweating from every cocky smirk that Reid gave him, and every time they were close, he felt impossibly dizzy and unsettlingly eager. His neck kept tingling, and his skin was hypersensitive.

He couldn't tell Milton that the training was too much for him to handle. He'd have to confess to his dad that he wanted to be bitten, and that would be the day he died of humiliation on the spot.

For the last week, his withdrawal from not having vampire blood had grown. He'll admit it had gotten bad for a while. But he had refused to be apart from Reid, even if it would have made the sweating and shaking more manageable.

Kane wasn't going to lock himself away when Kiernan was, too.

Reid needed Kane's presence more than ever to remind the idiot that they hadn't given up.

So, for the last two weeks, Kane handled the urges himself. Even if he stayed up for hours at night with his hand on Reid's neck as the idiot slept, counting the steady beats of Reid's pulse and so close to putting his mouth against it. He could imagine Reid's blood filling his mouth. Even now, the memory of its taste called out to him in ways he couldn't understand wholly, only wanting more than he'd ever wanted anything in his entire life.

He'd resisted.

Even if he had taken three showers a day and snapped at anyone who dared to talk to him or walked too close, it didn't help that Lucas had also been dealing with the same shit. Less overwhelming because, apparently, Reid's blood was crack, but they had both been suffering and still were.

With the benefit of Kiernan's blood, Lucas healed enough to get his stitches out today. But the last time the man had any vampire blood was a week ago. Lucas had been on bed rest since, even though he was able to walk around, his knife wound was no longer concerning, but the withdrawal had him on his ass.

Kane had taken up the other side of Lucas's bed a few times to escape the others who filled the living room and the kitchen when he felt close to snapping.

Lucas must have understood because he hadn't acted like an asshole. He spent hours showing Kane videos he'd found while scrolling and talking about nothing in particular. Lucas made him laugh a few times, mostly when they would come across videos of guys trying to act tough, and Lucas would verbally rip them apart.

They had spoken about Sterling. The agent was locked in their basement. They had to come up with a game plan for what they were going to do about that. Lucas had assured him that he'd deal with it. Kane was okay with that if Lucas didn't kill the agent.

Kane would annihilate his enemies without remorse, but the cold-blooded murder of a guy who was chained up was where he drew a boundary.

Lucas had given his word not to go homicidal.

During the last few days, Lucas had begun acknowledging Reid again, and Kane nearly wished the guy would return to open hostility. Reid had been bringing Lucas food while he was on bed rest. The coldness Lucas showed Reid since the idiot came out of that bedroom had abated, but Lucas still remained snappy.

Reid was on the verge of getting on his knees and begging forgiveness. Kane saw it in the idiot's eyes. Lucas would probably love that. The pervert was obviously adoring Reid's attention.

During one of Reid's many visits to the bedroom, when Kane had been hiding away from the idiot and spending his time sprawled in Lucas's bed, Asha came in simultaneously to give Lucas pain pills.

Reid had casually asked if Lucas had dated Sterling when he was an agent. Lucas had given a cold no. That might not be a lie, but Lucas definitely had a history with the guy.

Asha and Reid had shared a knowing glance.

The horrified expression that had taken Lucas's face made Kane laugh until his stomach hurt. The guy had been pale. Lucas might be confident that he could love Reid and Asha at the same time, but evidently, he hadn't thought of what would happen if they talked about him together.

The feeling of dread that he usually had when he thought of Lucas and the guy's delusions didn't linger. Because he'd seen Reid hanging around Rowan a lot these past few days too, cornering her with dark eyes, but she looked ecstatic to be hunted.

Hannah had told him that she thought something had happened between the pair.

And when Kane asked Reid, he confirmed it.

Kane had wanted to yell to the sky, yes! Rowan was small and delicate. Perfect for Reid. And more importantly, she wasn't Lucas.

"Kane!" Milton's voice sharpened Kane's hazy focus. His dad was pissed. "Get up!"

Before Kane could make a quip that he was relaxing, he had a warm breath ghost his ear, and a wave of lethargy took his limbs.

He growled, opposing the sensation, and his strength returned, fingers fisting and clawing dirt. His sword was within reach, lying in the grass not far away.

"If you keep letting me pin you..." Reid whispered lowly. He was heavy against Kane's lower back, and the idiot dared to grasp Kane's hair in a loose grip. Not tight enough to hurt. If Reid had been taking this seriously, he would have bashed Kane's head on the ground because that was the only way he'd keep this rare upper hand. "I'll start thinking you're not trying."

Kane wasn't trying.

He'd been keeping it up for an entire hour, but soon he'd have to stop messing around before Milton kicked his ass. Hurting Reid was difficult for him, even if he knew he needed to train the idiot.

To him, Reid was still that kitten who grew into their claws too fast, with grisly fangs and an unsettling aura, but the idea of breaking him made Kane queasy.

They'd gone through the basics of hand-to-hand combat. Now, they were onto swords, and Milton wasn't a pushover.

Real danger was the only way you learn.

That was what Milton had said when Kane protested giving Reid steel sharpened and perfect for falling and stabbing oneself, which Reid would manage.

They'd practiced carefully parrying and slashing, and Reid was doing shockingly well. When the idiot wasn't being his default lazy, he could kick some ass.

Then, Milton casually asked Reid if he'd talked to Kiernan that day.

Kane had lost focus then and ended up on his stomach in the dirt.

They'd planned on putting their plans into motion in a few days. But that fucked message happened, and everything changed. Kiernan had decided to never leave his room again, and hadn't for the last two weeks.

Kane understood. He did, but didn't the guy realize Gabriel wanted this? Kiernan was giving into that bastard's whims by letting this get to him so badly. The vampire had to know they'd all figured out what happened to him a while ago. Kiernan had sat in that kitchen, and Kane had stitched his ravaged back.

Kane had seen the finger-shaped bruises.

This didn't change anything.

Mercalli didn't hide what he was in that dreamscape or what Kiernan was to him-obviously not by choice. Kane didn't look at Kiernan differently after seeing that shit. Kiernan did what he had to do to survive. He had been a human against a pure-blooded vampire.

Kane had a taste of how difficult it was to withstand a vampire who had you in their sights.

Kiernan had stood no chance.

Gabriel might have thought that video would make Kiernan pitied or looked down upon, but Kane has never felt more respect for him.

Thankfulness, even.

Kiernan took that torture and torment for Reid. He was more than badass.

Despite how messed up that video was, haunting his worst dreams for years to come, Kane now had a face to a name. Dallas was tall and broad, with black hair, blue eyes, and a deep voice. He'd heard and seen the guy in high definition and wouldn't forget, not until he cut Dallas's vile head off, and then the fuck would be dust, forgotten, as he deserved.

Reid didn't know about the video. Maybe he had figured it out in his twistedly perceptive mind, but he hadn't said anything about it. Kane would keep it that way if he had a choice. There was no reason for Reid to carry that guilt. What happened to Kiernan wasn't his fault.

"Fight, or I'm taking over," Milton snarled. "Then you'll both regret wasting my time."

Milton was out of sight, but Kane could picture him vividly, crossing his arms and pacing, itching to join the spar. He was a total hard-ass. But there wasn't anyone Kane would rather learn from. His dad was the best of the best. Seeing Milton during that fight in the magic shop had been brutal. Kane had been fighting for his life, but he had felt exhilarated.

He had missed the old man.

"Kane," Milton growled.

Fine.

Kane had pussyfooted around long enough. He raised himself onto his arms with a low growl.

Reid was taken off guard, clearly not realizing that Kane could lift him up completely because the idiot made a throaty noise and tightened his hold on Kane's hair.

But it was too late.

Kane made it to his knees and threw a hand back, fisting Reid's t-shirt and tossing him to the side with ease.

He felt a pang of guilt when Reid hit the dirt with a hard thud.

Milton groaned. "Reid! Don't gawk!"

Reid was gawking, staring up at Kane with wide blue eyes. "Ow," he gasped. "You threw me!"

They were both sweaty and took off their sweaters an hour ago. Track pants and t-shirts were enough, even in the chilly afternoon breeze. Reid's shirt had ridden up, giving a glimpse of his stomach. Reid had always been lean. As a human, he didn't eat enough protein to make any. He made hacking noises whenever Kane tried to get him to eat something other than pancakes.

As a vampire, Reid had the start of visible muscles. This past month, a blood diet and running for their lives have done wonders for his physique.

"You wanted to learn," Kane replied, picking up his sword. "No more holding back. We spar for real." He snorted fondly at Reid's open-mouthed look.

The idiot must not have thought Kane would seriously fight him.

Honestly, Kane hadn't either, but he felt a thrill at the idea of Reid fighting without holding back. The idiot had strength that he had never utilized. If Reid took training seriously, he'd be a force to be reckoned with. Kane felt a rush of motivation to make sure that Reid could kick ass. If he had to make the idiot bleed to teach him right, he'd have to suck up his guilt and do it.

Milton roared for Reid to get his head out of his ass, and Reid obeyed, scrambling to grab his sword that had flown from his grasp when he had been thrown.

Reid stood, dirt sticking to his black t-shirt. His fair hair was a mess. He looked wild, and Kane shivered, his instincts telling him to be wary. "You want me to come at you...without holding back?"

"What the fuck?" Kane snapped, bewildered. "You've been holding back?"

"Haven't you been?"

"That's not the point."

Milton approached them. "I need to see what you're capable of, Reid. And you, Kane, it's been a year. I need to know what you've been neglecting."

Kane scoffed. He hadn't trained after his dad died, but he had fought plenty.

"Fight," Milton ordered, his intense gaze sweeping both of them. "Don't hold back. Then we go from there. I need to know what you're both capable of."

Reid lifted his sword with a grimace. The steel gleamed in the fading afternoon sunlight. "I won't hold back, but, um, getting cleaved in half is sort of final. Kenneth is going to kill me." He pouted. "That's not me complaining. I've seen him wielding his sword, and it's scary."

"His sword?" Kane cocked an eyebrow at the questionable wording.

Reid winked. "Scary."

"Impressive, huh?" Kane smirked.

"Below average." Reid dodged Kane's attempted pinch with a high-pitched laugh.

"You asked me to train you," Milton said, sighing at their antics. "But you're right. Later, a real sword will be paramount when you train in controlled lessons. You're still a novice. We don't want to take chances."

Milton snatched Reid's sword from his loose grasp and walked away, inclining his head for them to follow.

They were led to the wooden shed Gianna had given them a key to. It was full of weapons. Hers. Mostly rifles. Kane admired them now with a sweep of his gaze. They were well taken care of, but he'd be admittedly fumbling if he had one in his hand. They were for long range. He could kick ass with a shotgun and a variety of pistols. His favourite weapon, if not a blade, was a revolver. But he'd never had a reason to kill from afar.

When Kane looked away from the wall of weapons, Milton had sheathed Reid's blade and was placing the sword on the wooden table against the far wall with shelves.

Milton began going through the duffel bag he'd brought from the magic shop.

The door of the shed swung open, creaking faintly, stopped by Reid's palm. The idiot gave Kane a cocky smile while leaning his shoulder against the aged framing.

"Hey," Reid said, grinning.

Kane smiled back. "Hey."

The sun had been overcast for most of the morning but broke through the clouds this afternoon. Light streamed over the planked floor of the shed from a low window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air and haloing Reid's fair hair in a soft orangish red.

Reid's eyes were gentle, with an emotion Kane couldn't place behind the deep blue.

He was so bright.

Kane was about to beat him bloody to teach him how to fight and snuff out the boyishness that Reid had left. In a few months, he'd take Reid into hell, and they'd die on a bloody battlefield trying to stop the end of the world. All because Kane was a failure who couldn't protect the one person that had always been important to him.

He failed Reid over and over again.

He didn't deserve to be the guy Reid looked at like that.

A hard whack against his chest stole his attention. He grasped the stick's cold wood and took its weight when Milton let go to hand Reid the other, and dread churned his stomach. Fuck. He'd rather risk fighting with real blades.

Reid whistled, stepping out of the shed to swing the stick wildly. "This is much better." If only he knew. He ran his palm over the glossy white wood and slowly frowned. "Hey! Why is my stick smaller?" He gave Kane's snort of amusement a wide smile. "Oh, funny. I deserved that."

"You're shorter," Milton explained, moving out of the shed and eyeing Reid with a look Kane knew well. He was in teaching mode, and that meant they were at risk of getting their asses kicked if they didn't pay attention. "Did you not notice your sword was slightly smaller?"

"Why do you have a smaller sword?"

"Hm?"

"You're taller than me. Was that blade yours?"

Milton neared. "I've been waiting for you to ask me to train you." He patted Reid on the head. "It took you longer than I'd like, but I knew you'd come to me."

Reid gave a weary smile and looked at the stick with new appreciation, now knowing it was made specifically for him. He was choked up. He tried to hide it behind a slight pout on his lips and a distant stare.

At Kane's slow approach, Reid looked up, his cheeks flushed. "Ready to beat each other's sticks?"

Kane rolled his eyes.

He stepped closer and, before Reid could react, whacked the idiot's thigh without holding back.

The cry of pain was expected, but Kane still winced.

He knew that agony intimately. His dad might have given them mercy and taken away the risk a sword posed, but he'd opened a new hell for them to suffer. White wax wood sticks. Not rattan, like he used when he was a boy, which would soften the blow.

It took everything in Kane not to follow the idiot to the dirt where he'd fallen and comfort him because he'd suffered the pain Reid was writhing with before, and it was bone-achingly deep. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

"Fuck you," Reid warbled, holding his thigh.

"Get up," Kane ordered.

Milton was watching like a hawk.

"No," Reid sobbed.

"I'll hit you again," Kane said. "Fight me."

Reid gave him the middle finger.

So, Kane brought the stick to Reid's hip with a loud thwack. He didn't hit him as hard, not wanting to break a bone, even though Reid would heal quickly. But he'd think he hit the idiot harder with the howl he let loose.

Gripping the grass, riding out the pain, Reid gasped, "I hate you!"

"Get up," Kane said sternly, trying not to laugh. Even though Reid was writhing on the ground in agony, he was shouting for a nonexistent police officer to come arrest Kane for domestic abuse.

"Reid," Kane warned.

Reid gave him the middle finger again-shakier. "You just wanted an excuse to beat me with your stick!" He laughed, pained.

What the fuck? Kane would be in tears from two hits from these devil sticks. Reid was in tears, his blue eyes were wet and his cheeks were bright red, but he was still making jokes.

Kane had to resist grinning. Reid might not know shit about fighting, but he knows how to take pain. The idiot could probably outlast Kane before breaking.

He was more than impressed.

But he was here to teach Reid to fight, not take a beating.

So, Kane hit the idiot again, no longer holding back. He didn't let Reid's cry of agony finish before he brought the stick down again. He felt every hit sting his skin in empathy, guilt ravaging him. But he couldn't stop. Reid needed to learn to protect himself and not lay in the dirt, and he had to know what he was getting into by asking to be trained.

Then, finally, when Kane brought the stick down one last time, a hand shot out and clasped the white wood in a punishing grip. Reid was on his side, breathing heavily, his blue eyes dangerously dark.

Kane tried to take the stick back from Reid's grasp, but it only moved slightly.

They stared at each other, a shiver in the air igniting between them, and Kane felt wary for a moment before remembering that this was his Reid. Not an angry vampire about to rip his throat out.

"Get up," Kane said tightly, resisting the familiar shudder from holding Reid's gaze.

With a low growl, Reid shoved the stick away, and Kane backed off.

Reid slowly sat up. He didn't groan, but he wanted to. Kane saw the held-back agony in his pained eyes. Red marks covered Reid's arms, and Kane forced away the guilt clenching his insides. That softness had no place here. Reid had asked for this, but he never said stop.

He wanted to learn.

Reid stood, stick in hand, stumbling a little before straightening and lifting his chin. "That's it?" He flashed his fangs in a mock snarl. "I always thought you'd hit harder."

Badass.

Kane snorted fondly, and when he looked, Milton was grinning.