“Should be able to since no one owns the home unless she has wards on the house.”
“Wards?” There is still so much I don’t know about this world.
“Only one way to find out.” We all head to the back door together. I expect Vincent to do some fancy lock picking, but instead he kicks the door in. It goes flying completely off the hinges. “That was hot.”
“Fuck.” Ian turns and vomits all over the deck. This is so not going how I thought it would. Buffy fights to get out of my hold. I let her down. She clearly knows what she’s doing. She jumps out of my arms and darts into the house.
“I can’t go in,” Vincent says. I dart past him before he can try to stop me. His arm flies out, catching me by my forearm, but my feet are already firmly planted inside.
“Are we about to find out who’s stronger?” I lift my brows.
“Poppet. I might not sense anyone inside, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something else lurking around.”
“What if I do this?” I yank as hard as I can, pulling him into the house.
“What the fuck?” Vincent says after he stumbles inside.
“Maybe because she’s inside the house and she’s your mate?” Ian guesses. “Fuck me.” He turns and vomits again.
“Come on. We’ll figure that out later. Let’s get whatever we can and get out of here.” I rush after Buffy, knowing she’s headed to wherever we need to be. The house is a totally normal old lady house. There is even the usual giant fork and spoon on the wall in the kitchen.
That is until we get to a set of double wooden sliding doors. Buffy starts to paw at them, trying to get them open. Vincent pushes them apart, helping her. The whole mood of the house changes.
In the center of what I’m guessing is supposed to be a dining room is a giant round table. There are candles and herbs spread out all over it along with glass containers. On the floor is another one of those giant pentagons. I pull out my phone and snap a few pictures as Vincent starts to grab the books off the table.
“Come on! We need to get out of here,” Ian shouts through the house. I scoop Buffy up again as we quickly head back out and get everyone into the car.
“Are you going to be okay?” I turn to check on Ian. He’s got his eyes closed, and he looks pale.
“I think I’m just coming down with something. I wasn’t feeling great before we left the house to begin with.”
“What if we give him....” I cut myself off and take a deep breath. I can’t seem to get the words out. This is for your best friend, I remind myself. “What if we give him some of your blood?” I suggest.
“No,” Ian groans. “Drinking the blood of a mated vampire will kill a person.”
“Oh.” I’m not going to lie; I’m happy about that. I don’t want anyone drinking the blood of my mate. This is so not the time to be jealous, but I can't help it if I’m possessive when it comes to Vincent.
I guess Ian found out some more things he needs to fill me in on about blood bonds. I want to know everything about being mated. The second Vincent pulls into the driveway, I'm out of the car and helping Ian get into the house.
“What happened?” a deep voice rumbles. I spin around in time to see Vincent wrap his hand around the man’s neck before he slams him into the side of the house. I reach out and brace my hand against the car, not so steady on my feet. Exhaustion is starting to pull at me.
“You dare talk to my mate?” Vincent growls.
The man doesn’t fight him.
“Harry?” Ian rasps.
“Harry?” I repeat. Vincent steps back enough for me to finally get a look at his face. Vincent had moved the man so fast it was all a blur. Speak of the damn devil. “Does Harry have fangs? I don’t remember Harry having fangs.”
“That makes two of us,” Ian mutters before he turns and starts to dry heave.
“I don’t want to fight you, but I will if you don’t let me go to him,” Harry says. “I can help him.”
“Let him go, Vinny.” Vincent releases him at my request. “I think I need you.” I release my hold on the car to reach for my mate. The world starts to tilt. Or maybe it’s me that’s off balance. Vinny’s arms wrap around me to steady me. He lifts me, cradling me close against him. I lay my head on his shoulder as he carries me into the house.
He sits down with me in his lap. “You need to drink.” He reaches up and cuts his neck before he grips the back of my head and presses my mouth against him. I latch on to him, not sure how I’ll ever be able to let go.