Callum lay back on his bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn’t heard anything from Bram all morning. What if Renfield did something else to him? What if he did something to Renfield?

He didn’t like it one bit. The laws of the outer counties were so different than the Capital City, and the lines of morality became so unclear. For all Callum knew, Bram could have simply killed Renfield, and no one would bat an eye because he was the Count.

To Callum, it seemed terribly irresponsible to leave the matter of justice up to one person. Bram, and any noble with land under their name, could basically do anything they wanted without consequence.

On the other hand, what if something happened to Bram? Renfield was wild and unpredictable, clearly felt no remorse for attacking Bram.

“Shit,” he breathed, and he covered his face with his pillow. He wished he hadn’t left them alone.

There was a knock at the door, and Callum practically leaped off the bed to answer it. Bram was there, looking a bit worse for wear, but he was just glad he was okay.

“What happened?” he asked. He eyed Bram’s bloody arm, then examined the rest of him, He seemed all right, but he was a bit pale, and he looked tired.

“I told you nothing would happen. I just came to let you know that I’m heading back to my estate. It stopped raining, so I think I’ll walk.”

“Let me get you some bandages first,” Callum said, but Bram just shook his head.

“The bleeding stopped. I’ll have Mary attend to it later.”

“Well, at least let me escort you to the edge of town.”

They walked slowly, and Callum was quiet as he watched Bram. It was bright outside, despite the clouds. If only they would clear. He hadn’t seen a clear sky since before he got to Umbra Harbor.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Mr. Shelley?”

“I’m fine,” he said breathlessly. He definitely wasn’t fine—why was he lying? “I think I’ve just been out too long. Mary will be worried.”

He seemed a bit unsteady on his feet too. Callum’s eyes went wide, his heart pounding in his chest as Bram collapsed out of nowhere, face first onto the old cobblestone.

“Mr. Shelley!” Callum rushed to him and turned him onto his back, and he didn’t respond or move. His face was bloody from hitting the stones too. “Wake up!”

He pressed his ear to Bram’s chest. He nearly cried in relief to hear his heart beating, and he could feel his chest rise with his faint breathing. He was weak, but alive. Was this one of the symptoms of his illness, or did it have something to do with his injury from Renfield?

“Someone help!” Callum called out, and a few of the farmers came out to see what was going on. “He’s hurt. We need to get him back to Shelley Manor. His servant has what he needs.”

They managed to load Bram onto an old wagon, and used one of the working horses to pull it. It was a rough ride—the wagons weren’t built to travel the uneven forest paths. Bram would be in a lot of pain when he woke, but it was the quickest way to get him home.

Callum sat in the chair beside Bram’s bed while Mary took Bram’s shirt off and rushed around to get him hooked up for his blood transfusion. Apparently she’d traveled herself to collect the blood they needed from Bram’s doctor.

“What the hell was he thinking?” she muttered to herself. “Thirty years without going into town, and now it’s all he ever does. He knew he was due for blood this morning.”

“Will he be all right?” Callum asked quietly, and Mary sighed. She went to Bram’s windows, making sure the heavy drapes covered each one, not allowing any bit of sunlight into the room.

“He needs rest,” she said, “and he needs to stay out of the sun. His condition makes him extremely sensitive to sunlight. He shouldn’t be going out, even on cloudy days like today. I don’t know why he even went into town—he should just leave the investigation of the town to you. Who knows what might have happened if he’d been alone?”

Callum stayed at the bedside for the rest of the day, watching closely. Bram didn’t move at all, the only indication of life being his chest moving up and down with his shallow breaths. He was pale, and his face and body were bruised and bloody, between falling and the rough cart right back to the manor, but at least he was alive.

“What’s this?” Mary asked, holding up Bram’s injured arm. “Did something bite him?”

“Not something,” Callum told her. “Someone. I went to interview a man in town, and he attacked Mr. Shelley. The man is a lunatic.”

Mary let out an exasperated breath, but didn’t say anything before attending to the injury. When she was done, she collected all the bloody rags into a small basket and lifted it under her arm.

“I know you’ve done quite a bit already,” she said as she gathered Bram’s dirty clothes, adding them to the basket, “but would you mind just staying with him until he wakes up? This has never happened before, but I need to finish my work and do this laundry.”

“I don’t mind.” Callum shrugged off his jacket. “I’ll take care of him. You have enough to do.”

Mary gave him a warm smile before leaving the room with the dirty laundry, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Callum wrang out a washcloth in a basin of cool water that Mary had left on the bedside table. He used it to wipe the dried blood from Bram’s face.

Bram’s bare forearms caught his eye. Aside from the injury from Renfield, he was covered in scars. They wrapped all around his arms and went from his wrists to his elbows, like he’d been tied up or chained. Had he been a prisoner at some point? He ran his fingers gingerly across them, wondering what could have happened.

Bram groaned softly and shifted on the bed with a pained grimace before he opened his eyes.

“Try not to move too much,” Callum said, wiping the sweat from Bram’s forehead. “You’ve been injured enough already.”

Bram blinked a couple of times, then glanced at the IV in his arm before he sighed and closed his eyes again.

“How humiliating,” he said, “fainting in the middle of the road.”

“No one saw you collapse except me. A few of the farmhands helped get you back here, but no one saw it happen. I called for them.”

“You must think I’m pathetic. How am I supposed to run a county when I can’t even spend more than a few hours outside?”

“I don’t think that. I do think you need to take better care of yourself, though. Mary was cross.”

“Mary is always cross,” he said, rolling his eyes. “She never had any children of her own, so she’s babied me for decades.”

“How old are you anyway?”

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“Old enough.” Bram struggled to sit up against his pillows with a grunt, shifting uncomfortably. “I feel like I’ve been thrown around like a ragdoll.”

“You have, kind of,” Callum told him. He was a bit bruised from the trip too. “All they had to bring you back here was an old hay cart. It was a bumpy ride.”

“I can tell.” Bram finally found a good position and relaxed, sinking into the pillows with a tired sigh. It was barely a moment before he fell asleep again, breathing softly.

Callum laughed quietly to himself, wiping the rest of the dried blood off Bram’s face before pulling the blankets up over his shoulders.

Bram didn’t stir again until the next morning, after Mary had changed out his blood transfusion twice.

Callum was slumped over in the bedside chair, snoring quietly. His blond hair was unkempt, and he’d removed his vest and suspenders, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He felt a cool hand brush against his face and jolted away, finding himself face-to-face with Bram.

Bram was still shirtless, and covered in bruises. He was no longer hooked up to the blood, his arm wrapped in bandages. He had a dark bruise under one eye and across his nose, but didn’t seem fazed by any of it.

“How are you feeling?” Callum asked, and Bram laughed softly.

“You’re the one who’s been sleeping in that chair. You look terribly uncomfortable.”

“I’ll live.” Callum yawned as he sat up and stretched his arms over his head. He arched his back against the back of the chair with a groan, and Bram eyed him up and down. “What?”

Bram had that same old mischievous grin on his face, and he laughed.

“If I told you, you’d just blush and run away.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I was just thinking,” Bram said, chewing his fingernails as he eyed him up and down again. “The way people stretch is a bit erotic, don’t you think?”

Callum immediately lowered his arms, regretting making Bram tell him what he was thinking. His whole face felt like it was on fire, and he was sure it must be bright red.

“You almost killed yourself in town—how can you be thinking of something like that?”

“Should I be thinking of something else?” he asked.

He didn’t say anything else about it, though. He got up with a groan, moving a bit stiffly, and went to his desk, where he took a decanter and two glasses out of one of the drawers. He filled them both before he went back to his bed and offered one to Callum.

“Have a drink, Mr. Harker. I think we both deserve it after the last few days.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Callum said, but he took the glass and drank anyway. “You’re the one who keeps getting hurt.”

“And you nearly fell to your death, remember?”

Callum nearly choked on his drink as he recalled the sensation of Bram’s powerful grip on his arm. He knew he wasn’t light, so how was Bram so ridiculously strong? He’d tossed Renfield like a doll too. Bram’s raw physical strength was frightening.

He remembered the moment after too… The way Bram had held him against his body in the pouring rain, his powerful arms around his back, their hearts racing while Callum clung to the front of his jacket. His cheeks flushed a bit and quickly downed the entire drink in his hand.

“Thank you, by the way,” he said quickly. “You’re right. I would have fallen to my death if not for you.”

“Well…” Bram finished his own drink, then sighed as he placed the empty glass on the bedside table. “You helped me, so I supposed we’re even now.”

Callum stared down at his empty glass and chuckled.

“Is something funny?” Bram asked. His face was a bit flushed. Was he drunk after one drink? Should he even be drinking with his condition?

“I was just thinking about when I gave you my blood. It’s the first time in years that I felt like I was actually helping someone in a way that truly mattered, and it didn’t even have anything to do with my job.”

“Funny how life works out sometimes.”

“Yeah…”

Bram refilled their glasses, and Callum was quiet for a while. He finished off his second drink, then let out a long breath. He felt horrible, but he figured he might as well be honest with Bram.

“I think I’m going to head back to the Capital City soon.”

“But you haven’t closed your case.”

“I’ve examined every file, every death certificate… spent night after night waiting for something to happen. I’ve struggled to find proof or a suspect… I’ve got nothing. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t think I can help you. I’m really sorry.”

Callum stood to leave, but Bram tried to stand at the same time, and they collided. Callum dropped his glass and he fell back, but thankfully it didn’t break because of the thick carpet.

Bram wrapped one arm firmly around his back to stop him from falling, and Callum felt his face and ears get hot. He gripped Bram’s arms and stared up at him with wide eyes, and the sensation of their bodies pressed together sent a chill across his skin.

“You’re a bit clumsy, aren’t you, Mr. Harker?” Bram asked. He didn’t let go of Callum, even once he was standing firmly. “It’s quite cute.”

“You’ve been flirting with me ever since I came to town,” Callum said, thinking back on all the things Bram said, the small touches that put him on edge, the charming look in his deep brown eyes… “Don’t try to take advantage of me just because I’ve been drinking.”

“I don’t need to take advantage, do I?” Bram asking, flashing that devilish grin. “You called me handsome when you first came here.”

“Mr. Shelley…” Callum looked away, his cheeks flushed. “You can’t just—”

His voice caught in his throat as Bram took him by the chin, turning his head to make him look him in the eye.

“Call me Bram,” he said softly, and Callum swallowed hard.

“Bram…”

He inhaled a sharp breath through his nose as Bram leaning in and kissed him. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it left him speechless and paralyzed, staring up at him. He still had his arm around his back, their lips close enough that he could feel Bram’s breath on his skin.

“You’ve been waiting weeks for me to do that, haven’t you, Mr. Harker?” he asked. He wrapped his other arm around his back, pulling him against his hard body.

“Call me Callum,” he said, practically holding his breath. He was certain that Bram could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he leaned in again.

“Callum…”

The way his name sounded on Bram’s tongue made Callum shiver, and he ran his fingers through Bram’s hair as he kissed him again. The sensation of his hands and tongue sent shudders through his entire body, and by the time he pulled away, his face was more flushed than before and was out of breath like he’d been running. He pulled out of Bram’s grasp and backed away, wiping a bit of spit off his lip.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Callum said breathlessly. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Bram didn’t say anything, and watched in silence as Callum started to pace anxiously.

“What am I even doing here?” Callum asked, more to himself than to Bram. “I should never have left the Capital City. I can’t help these people. I wanted to protect them, but I can’t even do that. And then you…”

“Me?”

“You,” he repeated, laughing nervously. “You just fucking… stand there, all handsome and charming. How is anyone supposed to resist that? You don’t even seem to think that highly of yourself, and yet, here I am, all worked up and wrapped up in my feeling, while you just—”

“Callum.” Bram grabbed his arm to make him stop pacing. "Relax. I’m sorry, okay? I won’t kiss you again.”

“But…” Callum sighed, eyeing Bram’s lips. “I want you to… that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Well, now you’re just being confusing,” Bram said, furrowing his brow.

“I know! I know…” Callum ran his hands through his messy blond hair and took a deep breath. “It’s just… I’m supposed to be investigating the harbor. Everyone is a suspect, including you. I shouldn’t be kissing suspects.”

“You probably shouldn’t be spending the night in their homes either.” Bram smirked. “So, there’s two things you’ve done already.”

“Can you just… not be so stupidly charming for five seconds?” Callum sat down on the edge of Bram’s bed and held his head in his hands. “This is going to get me into trouble, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

Callum sighed, eyeing Bram up and down. He tried to reach out to him, but he wasn’t close enough to touch. As he lowered his hand, though, Bram reached out and took it in his own, moving closer to him again.

“You don’t think one night will ruin things, do you?” Bram asked. “Besides, you said yourself that you’re leaving. This may be your only opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” Callum questioned. Bram gave him a mischievous grin as he reached down to unbutton Callum’s shirt. His breath came out in small huffs while he just watched, unable to speak or move. He let Bram put the shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside carelessly.

Callum grabbed Bram by his wrists and pulled him forward without warning. He kissed him as he fell on top of him, and he arched up into Bram’s touch as he ran his cool hands up his body.

What the hell am I doing? Callum wondered. He knew he shouldn’t be there. He knew he shouldn’t be with Bram, or anyone else in Umbra Harbor. He’d come to catch a killer, not sleep with the suspects.

Still, he found him difficult to resist, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to. He had exhausted every avenue he could think of to try to figure out who the Bloodsucker was, and was still no closer to an answer. He was ready to close the case and move on.

Was that the right thing to do though?

He knew it probably wasn’t He had no real obligation to help placed like Umbra Harbor, since they weren’t under his jurisdiction, but he couldn’t just let them die, could he? The people of Umbra Harbor were good to him. Could he really turn a blind eye to their suffering and move on with his life? Was this one of the blurred lines of morality that Van had warned him about.

Bram pressed himself between Callum’s legs and kissed his neck, and it forced Callum out of his racing thoughts. His breath came out in small, raspy huffs as he gripped Bram’s arms.

“You seem a bit distracted,” Bram said quietly and he reached for the button on Callum’s pants, and his low voice in his ear made him shudder. “Am I not keeping you engaged enough?”

“Is that a serious question?” Callum asked through labored breaths, running his hands up and down Bram’s muscular arms. “As if it was possible for me to think of anything else right now, even if I tried.”

“Stop trying then,” he said. He ran his fingers gingerly along his jaw, and Callum exhaled a shaky breath. “Worry about it in the morning.”

“Who says I’ll be here ‘til morning?” he asked, and Bram laughed softly before trailing kissed down his chest and stomach. Callum moaned softly, arching into his touch.

“Who says I’ll let you leave before then?”