Jazz watches him from across the table. Only when Seth glances to the fireplace does he finally eye the food. His stomach rumbles at the generous spread. Every delicacy under the sun. Absently, he licks his lips, inhaling the aromas. It’s been ages since he’s eaten this well.
Maybe even since he resided in Heaven.
He looks back at Seth. The vampire is staring at him again—with that curious fire in his eyes. He swallows and sits down.
Seth leans back and rests one foot on his knee. “Eat, angel,” he urges, lifting his wine glass to his lips.
Jazz frowns and regards the food.
Seth rolls his eyes, a soft irritated growl vibrating in his throat. “Pick a bite and bring it here. I’ll taste it first.”
A smile tugs at Jazz’s lips. Seth thinks he believes the food is poisoned. But the truth of the matter is, his hesitancy has got nothing to do with the food and everything to do with how this little encounter is making him so uneasy. It’s unsettling how a side of him is becoming so complacent around the male. They’re getting ready to enjoy a quiet meal together for fuck’s sake.
He shifts again as his dinner companion eyes him. Hell, at times, Jazz swears part of him actually looks forward to Seth’s company.
-Ugh. What is wrong with me?-
Maybe he just hates being alone. The servants refuse to talk to him and the only others he comes in contact with are merely there to prep him for more torture.
His body tenses at the memories. But he also acknowledges that it’s been awhile since the last time Seth actually lashed out at him. Has he paid his due in Seth’s eyes? He regards the underlord curiously, trying to figure out his deal. Is he done being vengeful or merely setting Jazz up? His unpredictability is totally frustrating.
For some reason he can’t explain, he decides to say fuck it and just enjoy the feast—as well as take advantage of another opportunity.
Sliding his chair out, he saunters over to the other side of the table and pulls out the chair next to Seth. Eyes on the vampire, he settles back down, straddling the thing in reverse, and drapes a forearm across its wooden backrest.
Time to worm his way deeper into this underlord’s good graces. It couldn’t hurt his prospects and might actually help buy his freedom.
Seth eyes him darkly. He eyes him back, not missing the way the dim lights flicker off Seth’s features. So sculptured and ominously perfect.
He forces his gaze away to the platter of steaming meat and vegetables. Reaching for it, he pulls the dish closer and picks up a chunk of tender beef.
Here goes nothing.
Gravy runs down his fingers. He brings the morsel to Seth’s mouth.
Meeting Seth’s eyes again, he murmurs, “Open.”