Roaring

expression. The dude looks like someone ate his puppy.
My anger diminishes as I release his shoulders and collapse onto the floor in front of him. I’m a monster, but even I’m not heartless enough to kick an already fallen man.
In a softer tone, I ask, “What the fuck did you do?”
Reaching into my shirt pocket, I grab a lighter and a joint of Fairy Blossom. When I offer a second one to Vin, he surprises the shit out of me by accepting it. In all the years I’ve known him, Vin has never partaken in drugs, except for a few times at parties. But depression smoking? Hell no. He must be more upset than I initially suspected.
“I fucked up, Mase,” he whispers brokenly, scrubbing a calloused hand down his face. I spread my legs out in front of me and rest back on my palms. My joint dangles precariously from my lips as I inhale sharply. Immediately, tingles race up and down my spine as the drug’s magic cocoons me.
“Tell your old friend Mason all about it,” I say, patting my lap. “Come here. Let me cuddle you.”
His disgusted look? Fucking hilarious.
“I keep screwing things up with Violet,” he admits at last, taking a long drag of Fairy Blossom. When he blows, purple smoke suffuses the room in a light sheen. “I’ve never had a girl I actually cared about before, you know?” He leans back in his desk chair and closes his eyes. “She’s my mate, man. My fucking mate.”
I freeze, shock making me momentarily immobile. I stare up at my best friend, my brother, and confusion and anger war for dominance within me.
“But…but you’re a Van Helsing,” I protest feebly, dropping my joint onto the ground with shaky fingers. “You can’t have a mate.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” He scoffs, shifting uncomfortably in his leather chair. “But she… I don’t know how to explain it. I just know, okay? I just fucking know.”
Is that why I don’t feel jealous or possessive when Violet’s around Vin and the other guys? Because they’re her mates too?
There must be something in my expression, something hinting at my rapidly percolating thoughts, because Vin quirks one dark brow at me. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” I blurt instantly. When Vin continues watching me with shrewd eyes, I ramble, “So what the fuck did you do that hurt her so badly?”
Because friend or not, brother or not, I will not hesitate to rip out his spine and gift it to Violet as a macabre necklace.
Sort of like a macaroni necklace but with…bones.
“She saw Cheryl kissing me,” he responds pensively.
Like a dam with too much pressure applied, I fucking crack. In the next moment, I’m on my feet and barreling down on the dumbass hunter, dropping my joint in my haste. He doesn’t lift a hand to stop me, despite easily being able to. I’ve just punched him a second time when I feel hands on my shoulders, pulling me backwards.
“What the hell?” I seethe, facing the intruder. Frankie holds his hands up placatingly and takes an automatic step backwards.
“I heard fighting,” he deadpans, flickering his gaze from a bloody Vin to a livid me. “I needed to make sure I didn’t need to hide a body.” He uses his middle finger to push up his thick glasses. “Now, what the bloody hell is going on?”
“Bloody hell,” Vin mocks, staggering to his feet. He wipes at a blob of blood that has formed on the corner of his lips. “You’re not even British.”
“This asshole,” I hiss, seriously wishing I had Violet’s skill at coming up with creative insults and nicknames, “kissed Cheryl in front of Violet.”
The change that comes over Frankie’s face is drastic. Before, it had been merely impassive, almost bored with the conversation at large, but at my words, his eyes flash coldly and his lips curl into a hideous sneer. He looks seconds away from pouncing on Vin and finishing what I’d started.
“She kissed me,” Vin protests immediately. Now at his full, impressive height, he towers over both me and Frankie. The intricate pattern of tattoos on his skin undulate, ripple, as he flexes. “The last thing I wanted was that viper putting her lips on me.”
I shift uncomfortably at the pointed stare Vin throws my way. Months ago, Vin and Cheryl had dated. It was a loveless relationship, but a relationship all the same. During that time, Cheryl believed herself to be in love with him and was tremendously hurt when he only saw her as a body to warm his bed.
So she came to me, crying and sobbing that Vin had broken up with her. If I had been sober, I might’ve seen through her tearful façade, but alas, I’d been high as a kite. We’d fucked, and Vin barreled in just as she orgasmed. To say he was pissed is an understatement. Not because he cared about her or was jealous…but because Vin didn’t like being betrayed.
Cheryl played both of us that day and had nearly broken our already tenuous relationship.
“You broke Violet’s heart,” I tell him now, taking great pleasure in seeing pain flash across his face. Fuck, I’m a sadistic bastard, aren’t I? I blame the fairy weed.
“We can break yours as revenge,” Frankie suggests coldly. When his eyes glint maliciously, I know that he doesn’t just mean metaphorically.
“Damn, Frank.” I whistle, shoving my hands into my back pockets and rocking on my heels. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.” To Vin, I say, “You broke it. You fix it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Don’t start this pathetic bullshit with me,” I warn, removing another joint and placing it between my teeth. “You’re Vin fucking Van Helsing. You stop monsters for a living.” Inhaling deeply, I balance the joint between my thumb and pointer finger. “Maybe the monster you need to stop this time is you.”
With that Hallmark card gold, I stalk out of the room. I can’t fix Vin’s idiotic mistakes, and I can’t stophim from