Oh fuck. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to get hard so fast, and for a vampire who would sooner kill him than deal with him another day longer. But damn. Big Sexy was just too enticing for his own good. Winter could have a fucking bite of whatever the hell he wanted.
The vampire took a drink from his water bottle, and Fox dropped his gaze to his nearly empty plate. It was safer than watching Winter, and it gave him a chance to calm down.
“When they grabbed you or while you were being held, did anyone say anything to you about a prophecy?” Winter asked.
And there was the fastest way to kill his hard-on—remind Fox of why he was with Winter in the first place. Definitely not because he thought Fox was hot and they should spend some time learning each other’s bodies very intimately. No, it all came back to this stupid prophecy that was more than likely a practical joke some witch was playing to make his life hell.
“I’m sorry, but not really,” Fox admitted. He pushed his plate away from him a little bit. Any hunger pangs he might have been feeling were now gone completely.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your meal.”
Fox quickly shook his head. “No, you didn’t. I’m full and I was hoping I might be able to save some of this stuff. Vampires…I never quite know when I’m going to eat again.” He waved a dismissive hand through the air. His mood deflated as the nearly suffocating weight of his situation settled back onto his chest. This wasn’t a time for laughing and flirting. His teasing comments before might have been used to disarm and distract Winter, but they both needed to be focused now. His life was clearly on the line, and it was beginning to look like the lives of others were as well.
Not that he wanted to be responsible for other people. He was lucky to keep his own head above water most days. No one wanted a powerless witch watching over their well-being.
Winter flashed him a rare smile, and Fox’s heart tripped in his chest at the sight of it. No smirk. No mocking in his expression at all. Just surprising gentleness. “We can try to save some, but even if we can’t, you’re not going hungry again while you’re with me. We’ll manage a better schedule with the food. I promise.”
“Thanks,” Fox murmured. He shoved one hand through his drying hair and felt a little more at ease. “Don’t mean to be high-maintenance—”
“It’s not high-maintenance to want food on a regular basis.”
“Thanks,” he repeated. He needed to get them on track before his heart got any squishier over Winter’s smile and thoughtful words. “But back to what you were saying. Several days ago, I was getting off work. I had been on the late shift, and the area was pretty dead at that hour. As I got to my car, three guys stopped me and asked if I was the witch called Fox. Took me another second to realize they were vampires. I mean, it’s not like most humans know about witches and vamps and such.”
Winter scratched his chin, his brow furrowed. “True, but how did you know so quickly they were vampires?”
“The cold.”
“Excuse me?”
Fox smiled. “The air around vamps feels colder. Like you’ve got a personal AC unit blowing cold air around you.”
Winter looked at his hand for a second and then reached out and grabbed Fox’s hand. “I feel cold to you.”
Fox immediately shook his head, trying desperately to ignore the wonderful feel of Winter’s hand. Since his mother’s death several years ago, there had been too few instances in his life where he’d felt even the most basic of touches from another human being. And he wasn’t even thinking of hugs or sexual touches. Sometimes it was just a light brush of fingers, a handshake, or a pat on the shoulder. But now wasn’t the time for such thoughts.
“Not your skin. The air around you. Your skin, your touch, is definitely not cold.”
Winter grunted and released him, reclining in his chair again. “I’ve never heard that.”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty good early detection system except for during the winter. Shifters have hot air around them.”
“And what about witches?”
Fox got off the bed and placed his nearly empty plate of food and the pizza plate on the room-service trolley. “Witches are harder. It depends on how powerful they are. Someone like me, I’d never be able to tell. But a powerful witch smells like burnt sage or some other burning herb. There can also be like an electric tingle in the air around them.”
“So, three vamps approached you, obviously looking for you,” Winter prodded, putting them back to his story.
“I stupidly admitted to being who they were looking for. I couldn’t imagine what they wanted. I was so fucking far outside the magic community. There was no way I’d pissed anyone off. I’d completely stopped trying to learn magic in the past few years. I figured, what could be the harm?” He hesitated. The plan had been to place the cake into the fridge and save it for later, but just thinking about what happened had him pulling off the cover and picking up a fork. Fuck it. He deserved cake.