"Hmm," I hummed. "Your dark humor is getting there. Good for you."
"Learning from the best," he whispered while leaning forward, and he glanced over my head again. "Say, Marian, I'll talk to you later, okay? I have a few things to take care of today."
I glanced behind me, and sure enough, Dorian was standing in the very spot I'd left him, his hands still in his pockets. I couldn't blame Isaac for wanting to leave. Anyone would want to avoid Dorian's black glare.
"Yeah," I drawled with an awkward, apologetic smile. "I'll see you, okay?"
I watched Isaac leave and was relieved I hadn't been wrong to trust him. With that mystery solved, my stomach growled, and a shadow appeared over me.
“Yes, I'm going to get something to eat while you make yourself useful as promised," I said without turning because I knew Dorian was standing behind me.
His cologne, a muted tobacco and citrus scent, tickled my nostrils.
When Dorian didn't respond, I turned to face him. His eyes were glowing. I stepped forward, being pulled by a now ancient need to ensure he was okay. I stopped myself before asking because I already knew his problem from the way his nostrils were flared. He could still smell Isaac.
“Leaving?" I asked, and he shook his head.
“Reheat your lunch, Marian. You need to eat."
He turned away without another word, and I chewed on my lip, watching him leave like Isaac. Not so long ago, I'd told Diana my life was uneventful, and I needed excitement. Now I was perhaps getting a little too much.
***
I drank the last of my water while leaning back against the wall. Fifteen minutes was how long I'd been sitting here while Dorian moved boxes, lifting them like paperweights.
I'd asked him to stay and help out, but this silence was killing me.
I searched my thoughts for a question to ask him, anything to start a conversation, but I couldn't think of anything. All I could think of were the questions I was itching to ask about his past, which wouldn't improve his mood.
I asked anyway.
"What was it like?" I asked, and he turned to me. "Being a hunter, what was it like?"
He didn't answer right away. He looked at the boxes surrounding us, then sat on the floor beside me.
“Many didn’t make it through training,” he finally answered. "They didn't die… they just weren't able to keep up. The training was just a pinch short of being like the real world because we had to be as prepared as possible."
He scoffed, his lip curved at the side with a scowl. "Even then, we weren't prepared for the things we faced in the field. It was hard, each mission uniquely a trip to fucking hell but the lives we saved, that’s what made it all worth it.”
He smiled, a beautiful wide smile, and I couldn’t help doing the same.
"We celebrated after every mission with beers and karaoke, and you know I can't sing," he laughed, and so did I. "But every single time, they got me to do it whenever we all made it home, or we did it to honor those who didn't."
His smile faded, and his eyes grew dull with the ghosts of his past. "I was good at what I did, was known and respected, but my team, the people who had my back, were the ones that mattered to me." He shook his head as if remembering an ugly memory, and I continued to listen in silence.
"After two years, I became a team leader; just two years. It was an honor and a curse because I became responsible for the men and women on my team. Their lives and protection were in my hands. If I messed up, I would die and they would too." His eyes moved back and forth, growing brighter by the second. “The first couple of missions were nerve-wracking, finding our footing as a team, but we all made it home alive."
“Only three times I lost teammates on a mission,” he glanced at me. “But the last time was… the last time for me.”
I recalled what Killian told me, that a member of Dorian’s team on his last mission was slaughtered by vampires. I could see the pain on his face, and I wanted to reach out to him. I didn’t. I remained silent, allowing him to speak.
When was the last time he’d talked about the things that bothered him? Dorian wasn't the type to volunteer details about his feelings, and he'd been like that with me in the beginning as well.
"Killian told me you lost someone. She was killed by vampires," I whispered, and he stared at me. He didn't reply. He only stared at me until he looked away, the muscles in his jaw clenching. "Was she your partner?"
He didn't answer, but his mouth curved down, and I looked away. I took his silence as a yes and asked nothing further. I couldn’t imagine being killed by a ravenous beast like an untamed, and even if I didn't know her, I could confidently say no one deserved such a death.
Even so, I couldn’t help the sting of jealousy I felt.