Free Jared Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Anitra Lynn McLeod

His surliness seemed to be far worse than just the aftereffects of too much alcohol.
    Curious about the drink, McBride took off the cap, gave the liquid a sniff, and then took a tentative sip. It was strangely sweet and oddly pungent, but not in an off-putting way. Rather than ask what it was, McBride thanked him, drank about half the bottle, and then went up to the cupola. Given the state of the county, he thought it would be wise to have the place manned at all times. He doubted anyone would come out here to cause trouble, but it couldn’t hurt to be prepared. As he sipped his hangover cure, he cleaned the cobwebs away and tidied the tiny room.
    “You do know that the butler would be happy to do this for you.” Jonas’s curly blond head popped up in the center of the floor. Even though the world was falling apart, he was pressed, perfumed, and entirely presentable. Nothing would ever ruffle Jonas.
    “I know, but I thought I’d get him to do the outside while I get the inside up to speed.” Something else about the room made McBride want to spend time there, but he wasn’t sure what it was. He felt safe somehow. If he closed the hatch in the floor and sat on it, he could be alone and no one could get near him without him knowing. Why he felt so exposed and strangely paranoid, he didn’t know.
    Jonas made a face but said nothing.
    “What can I do for you, Jonas?” As if he hadn’t done enough already. Even though Jonas had done all that he could to return the generosity McBride had bestowed on him, McBride didn’t think they were anywhere near even.
    “I’m wondering what I can do for you.”
    That caused McBride to stop what he was doing, sit his fanny on one of the windowsills, and face Jonas.
    “You were drinking very heavily last night.” Jonas didn’t come all the way up into the cupola. There wouldn’t really be enough room, anyway, so he crossed his arms and rested them against the floor as he balanced on the ladder.
    “Believe me, I know.” The bottle of brandy he’d been drinking from was abandoned on the other side of the tiny room. If Jonas turned his head, he’d be able to see it. What made McBride frown was that the bottle was only a quarter of the way empty. That wasn’t enough to get him as plastered as he obviously had to have been. When he remembered the wine he’d gulped down in lieu of dinner, he thought that made a bit more sense. Despite how awful he felt at the moment, he had a curious thirst to drink more. “I’m going to be paying for my overindulgence for the rest of the day.”
    “Your father would do that.” Jonas’s voice was very soft. He didn’t sound accusatory, but worried. “That’s why I knew enough to get you that hangover drink.”
    “I don’t know what you’re saying to me.” McBride looked at the brandy again and shook his head. What the hell was going on with him? It wasn’t just the state of the world pushing him to drown his sorrows in drink. Something else deep inside was just now asserting itself.
    “Your father grew ever more isolated. He drank heavily, refused to feed, and he kept scratching at his implant.”
    McBride realized he was rubbing absently at his right earlobe. He’d had the communication unit implanted for most of his life, but it had only started bothering him recently.
    “I think you need to feed.”
    “I’m not hungry for blood.”
    “Feed anyway.”
    “Have you?”
    “I did this morning, and no, not from Ollie. I went to Bailey. I suggest you go to Gannon.”
    “Hell.”
    “What?”
    “I was supposed to instruct Jared and Easton last night.”
    “Ah.” A rather pleased, indulgent smile crossed Jonas’s face. “Well, from what Bailey said, you need not worry.”
    “Oh?”
    “Jared went to borrow some greasers from Bailey, who was dining with Gannon and their thralls. They gave him lots of advice, so I imagine he put it all to good use.”
    That was a load off McBride’s mind, but he still had to walk them