“Food?”
“Blurg,”was the approximate sound I managed. I was tired and sore, and my shoulder itched with a ferocity that made me wish I could borrow Eleanor of Aquitaine’s scratching post. But since I was across town and didn’t care to steal from Lulu’s very bossy cat, no luck there.
The curtains were already drawn against sunlight, but I could feel it rising, lurking on the edge of the horizon, the vampire’s greatest enemy. Even a few seconds would burn my skin through, leaving a scar if I managed to escape, or my remains if I didn’t.
“Up we go,” Connor said, and before I could object, he hoisted me over his shoulder and headed for the stairs.
I didn’t have the energy to object.
“I don’t like cutting it close,” he said.
“I don’t like being toast.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being toast.”
When we reached his luscious master bedroom, with itsgleaming fireplace and enormous bed, he dropped me onto the bed’s silk coverlet. I flopped out, arms and legs extended.
“Blood?” he asked and pulled off one of my boots, then the other.
“Not tonight, honey,” I said, waving a hand.
“Shame,” he said. “I’ve heard the bite can be... interesting.”
That had me looking up. I hadn’t bitten him yet—that was at least one relationship level beyond where we were now. But I wouldn’t say it hadn’t crossed my mind. I was a vampire, after all, and he was gorgeous and strong. And shifter blood was literally full of magic.
But I hadn’t been sure if a shifter—the prince of the NAC Pack—would be willing to be bitten.
“I’m feeling more energetic now,” I offered.
“Thought that would do it.” There was a small marble bar in one corner with a wine fridge. He’d added bottles of my favorite bottled blood products—no nonconsensual human-swilling for ethical vampires, thanks very much—and pulled one out.
“Coriander mint?”
“No. I don’t want salad.”
Glass clinked as he shifted bottles. “Plain?”
I made a grabby hand. He brought the bottle back, and I all but pounced on it. The top was off and the bottle was empty in seconds.
“Sorry,” I said. “And thank you. I think I needed that.”
“It’s the spectral ooze,” he said, putting the bottle on the nightstand and stretching out beside me. I curled into him.
“I don’t want to hear those words ever again.”
“I don’t know if we’ll have a choice.” His voice had gone serious, which wasn’t usual for him. He was worried.
“Yeah,” I said, and patted his chest as dawn approached. “We may not have a choice. But we’ll deal with it together. We protect each other.”
We alwaysdid.
FOUR
I dreamed of grasping hands and shrieking ghouls and woke with a hard shudder, my heart pounding. The screeching was my screen, beeping an incoming call.
My body was still heavy, and I knew we were only seconds past dusk. So it didn’t surprise me to see Roger’s name on the screen.
“Roger,” I said, sitting up and, in the process, dislodging Connor, still drowsy. He grunted, pulled a pillow over his head and sleep-tousled hair.