The door to room 906 opened when Finch was halfway down the hall. Luther stood in the doorway and beckoned him in with a sharp jerk of his head. Finch could immediately tell that this wasn’t the usual Luther. The calm, annoyingly smug self-assurance was gone. This was a man on high alert, his shoulders tight and his eyes constantly scanning, and Finch wasn’t sure he wanted any part of whatever could make a vampire feel that way.

Finch had stayed in this hotel before, but either they’d renovated or Luther had rented a much nicer room. This one had a kitchenette and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a sprawling, glittering view of the city. There were curtains, but they were thin and gauzy—nothing like the heavy blackout curtains Luther typically used.

A young man, maybe nineteen or twenty, was kneeling on the sofa, staring out the window at the city lights below. He had short, dark hair and wore a simple black hoodie and jeans. In his hand, he held a half-eaten slice of wholegrain bread. He took a bite, chewed, then turned to give Finch a quick once over with startlingly pale blue eyes before going back to staring out the window.

Luther was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Not even fitted or expensive ones. Just… clothes. Every other time Finch had encountered him, he’d looked like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

Finch looked down at his own tactical body armour. “I feel a little overdressed.”

“You are,” Luther said. “My fault. I should have told you to dress casually. We’re trying to avoid attention.”

Finch gave him a slow, deliberate look up and down. “Is that why you’re dressed like someone’s dad?”

“Funny you should say that.” Luther stepped aside, gesturing toward the young man on the sofa. “Finch, meet my son, Shadow.”

Shadow shot another quick glance over his shoulder.

Finch stared at Shadow’s back for a long moment before turning back to Luther, eyebrows lifting. “You can’t have children. You’re infertile.”

“And you’re rude. If you met an infertile couple and they introduced you to their child, would you say, ‘Oh, no, you can’t have children, you must be lying’?” Luther’s voice took on a mocking lilt. “Or would you, perhaps, consider that they may have adopted?”

“Who would let you adopt a child? Did someone let you adopt a child?”

Luther waved a hand. “The details aren’t important. He’s my son. That’s all you need to know.”

Finch considered pushing the issue—the idea of Luther being a father was fundamentally absurd—but after a moment, he just shook his head. He was too tired for this. “Whatever. He’s an adult. Whatever father/son roleplay shit you’ve got going on, I don't care. What do you want, Luther?”

“I need you to take Shadow with you.”

“You want a babysitter?”

“No, Finch, I thought we’d established that he is not a child. I need you to keep him safe.”

“Why is he not safe with you? Beyond all the obvious reasons, of course.”

“I’ll have you know he is perfectly safe with me under normal circumstances, thank you. But now…” Luther shook his head, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. “Things have changed. I’ve always said I was the only vampire in this world. It turns out I was wrong.”

“There’s more than one of you fucks? That’s the last thing we need.”

“There’s one other. Katrina. She was with me when I fell through a thin spot in reality. I always believed she hadn’t come with me because I assumed that if she had, she would have ended up nearby. It turns out she ended up… well, I don’t know. Elsewhere.”

“Why is this a problem? For you, I mean. Another one of you is definitely a problem for the rest of us.”

“She’s nothing like me, and believe me, Finch, that’s not a good thing. Vampires… we can’t reproduce sexually, but we can create more vampires. All vampires were human once.”

“Wait, is that why…” Finch gestured toward Shadow.

Luther glanced at Shadow, who was now methodically consuming the crust on his slice of bread. “He’s clearly not a vampire, Finch. He’s eating bread.”

“Obviously. I meant that’s not why you have him, is it? You’re not planning to turn him into a vampire?”

“No,” Luther said. “Anyway, I bring this up because Katrina was the vampire who turned me. At the time, I thought all she wanted was for me to stay with her. As it turns out, she expected a more… complete dedication. For me to exist only for her. I attempted to defy her, and it cost me dearly.”

“Why is she so obsessed with you?”

“Now? Because in her mind, I’m her property. Originally?” Luther shrugged. “My eyes. Grey eyes are uncommon. She thought they were attractive.”

“And, what? You think she’s going to go after Shadow to get to you?”

“She already did. She entered my house while I was out. Shadow hid—he's very good at that—but he heard her talking to a man. They gave up and left before I got back. When I realised who had been in my house, we packed a few belongings and left immediately.”

“Okay, so we take Shadow. What are you going to do about all this?”

Luther held his palms up, an uncharacteristically helpless gesture. “I don’t have any solutions yet. Older vampires are stronger, so I wouldn’t win in a fight. She can’t be reasoned with, and the police aren't equipped for this.”

“So this isn't a weekend stay. A thousand sounded good for a night of work. It’s not great for indefinite room and board for your weird son.”

“Oh, you can talk,” Luther sniped, as though in this competition of oddity, Finch would be getting first place. Most of the time, sure, but not in this company. “Put him on a mattress on the floor. He’s quiet. You’ll hardly notice he’s there.”

Finch twisted his lips, considering. “Hm…”

“I only have so much cash, and I need to keep some for expenses. Once this is settled, I’ll pay you whatever is reasonable. You know I have the money to back up that promise.”

“You’re asking me to take in an entire person.”

“So that he isn’t killed. Yes, Finch.”

Finch looked at Shadow again. Shadow met his gaze this time, steady and unblinking. There was clearly a long story there, but he didn’t seem to have absorbed Luther’s obnoxious personality and he probably didn’t deserve to pay for his mistakes.

“Fine,” Finch said. “Give me the thousand. I’ll have Adin come up with a painfully itemised bill for the rest when this is all over, and you’re going to pay every cent.”

Luther held his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I told you, he’s my son. His life is in danger. I’m not about to short-change you, Finch.”

“Uh huh,” Finch said skeptically. “Does he talk at all?”

“He certainly can. Sometimes he does.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, I have a little bit of a drive ahead of me and fewer minutes of darkness than I’m entirely comfortable with. I’ll walk the two of you down to the parking lot and we can part ways there.”

Shadow shoved the last of the bread into his mouth as they headed for the elevator.

“Why me?” Finch asked as the doors closed. “We’re not friends. I see you maybe two, three times a year if I’m really unlucky.”

“Exactly.” Luther hit the button for the ground floor. “Where do you think he’s harder to find? With you, someone I barely have contact with, or with someone who’s a known associate of mine? Besides, I think you might actually stand a chance at protecting him, should it come to that.”

“You think I could take on a vampire?”

“You, one on one against a vampire?” Luther scoffed and shook his head, dismissing the idea. “No. But your whole team, in a fight with no rules? That’s a different matter. I’m sure you have countless tricks I don’t even know about. You’re the only people I wouldn't entirely count out. Including myself.”

As they stepped into the lobby, the receptionist pointedly averted her gaze, suddenly fascinated by her computer screen. Finch didn't know if she was scared of Luther or just didn't want to think about what a man who appeared to be around forty was doing with a guy half his age, and how a third man in body armour fit into that deeply questionable equation.

Luther led the way into the parking lot, his long strides as confident as ever, though the t-shirt and daggy jeans cost him some of his usual untouchable presence. It humanised him, in a way—which was a dangerous thought to have about someone who was far from human.

He clicked a button on his keys and a car chirped nearby. Finch had been expecting something expensive, flashy, and definitely black, but the lights that blinked belonged to a vehicle he’d passed on the way in without a second glance. It was grey, cheap, and unimaginably generic. Luther really was trying to avoid notice.

While Luther counted out wads of cash from the glovebox, Shadow retrieved a backpack from the passenger seat.

“I should go now,” Luther said, handing over the money. “You take care of him, okay?”

“I promise to feed him. Anything beyond that… eh.”

“As I said, he’s not very demanding. Now, Shadow.” He approached Shadow and placed his hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry all of this is happening, but I promise I’ll sort it out. I won’t let any harm come to you.”

Shadow just nodded. Luther patted his shoulders awkwardly and stepped back. “Take care. I’ll be in contact.”

Shadow followed Finch to his car without a word. This whole situation was fucking bizarre. Did this man—this vampire who had once spent years crossing all sorts of moral and legal boundaries in an attempt to sample the blood of as many different beings as he could find—actually have a family? A son who he loved? The thought was deeply unsettling.

Finch got behind the wheel. Shadow climbed into the back.

“It’ll be about an hour’s drive,” Finch said, starting the engine. “We don’t have a spare room, but we have a sofa or a futon mat. Tyla and Malyn are already sharing and Adin doesn’t even have a room, so quarters are a little tight.”

Finch saw Shadow’s nod through the rearview mirror.

“I’m probably gonna crash as soon as we get back and I don’t see Tyla or Malyn being up any time soon, but Adin literally does not sleep and he doesn’t really leave the house, either, so he’s always around if you need anything. Even when we’re working, he’ll be home, so you won’t be alone.”

Another nod. Well, this wasn’t a very engaging conversation. Finch turned the radio on and flipped through stations until he found some music.

How were the others going to feel about this sudden addition to their little family? There was a chance Shadow wouldn’t be with them for long, but his experience with Luther was that vampires didn’t rush things. Or at least Luther didn’t. When you had forever, a year probably didn’t feel all that long.

Finch glanced at Shadow in the rearview mirror again. “So, how old are you?”

Finch had half expected Shadow to try to answer the question by holding up fingers or something, but he spoke without hesitation, his voice quiet but clear. “Twenty.”

“That’s about what I guessed, but it’s a wild, wild world out here and you never really know. Especially when Luther’s involved.”

Shadow nodded, but there was a lightness to it, like he was aware of, but indifferent to, Luther’s bullshit. Maybe he really was his son, whatever that meant. Maybe he was more used to Luther’s shit than Finch could ever be. There were a lot of questions he should probably ask, but they were both tired. It could wait.

Maybe Adin would be the one to get him talking. He was the most terrifying of all of them if you knew his full story, but he came across as a calm and gentle intellectual. He was one, too, just… other things as well.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the drive. As the sky began to lighten in the east, shifting from inky black to a bruised purple, Shadow pulled a pair of dark, wrap-around sunglasses from his bag and put them on. They were held on with a strap, fully covering his eyes.

Finch pulled into the garage. Shadow was silent, even his footsteps light as they entered the house.

Adin looked up from his desk, his expression shifting from scholarly focus to mild surprise. “Oh. Hello.”

“Adin, Shadow. Shadow, Adin,” Finch said, waving a tired hand between them. “Shadow is Luther’s son, apparently. We’re getting paid to have him stay here for a bit.”

“A bit?”

Finch shrugged. “Luther doesn’t know how long for. Another vampire’s shown up who hates him, and that puts Shadow in danger.”

“And Shadow is… not a vampire?”

“No, he’s…” Finch gestured vaguely. “I don’t know. And don’t ask me how any of that works, because I don’t know that either. I’ll go over everything I do know in the morning, or whenever I wake up, which probably won’t be morning. I can tell you now that it’s not much, though.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry to surprise you like this. Luther didn’t tell me what he wanted until I got there, and then we were in a race against the sun.”

“No, no. If he’s in danger, what else could you do?” Adin offered Shadow a kind smile, but Finch could see the subtle tension behind it. He was his own special brand of reclusive, so having a stranger suddenly thrust upon him was a challenge. “I’m sure it will be nice having you, Shadow.”

Shadow nodded.

“Yeah, he doesn’t talk much,” Finch said.

“Well, we’re all different,” Adin said. “Shadow, can you read?”

Shadow nodded again.

“I’ll dig out the list of house rules I made when Tyla joined and put it back on the fridge for you to look through. It turned out not to be very useful for Tyla because, as we quickly found out, he can’t read. Not in our language, anyway.”

“Shadow, you want the sofa or the futon mat?” Finch asked.

“Futon mat,” Shadow said.

“I’ll get that for him,” Adin said. “Why don’t you get to bed, Finch? You’ve had a long day.”

“Mm, thanks,” Finch said, already turning towards his room. “Hope you sleep as well as I’m about to, Shadow.”

Finch went to his room and shut the door, and then groaned as he realised he still had the task of stripping out of his body armour ahead of him. Why did the very last thing you had to do before you could rest always feel by far the hardest, no matter how small it was compared to everything else?

He finished undressing, leaving the armour in a jumbled pile on the floor. 

That was a problem for Future Finch.