Page 70

“A Rolex?” she said, inspecting the watch face.

“Yeah, it’s trash, I’ll get you a nicer one if you want.”

She gave me a look, like I was being ridiculous.

“So, what happened here?” I gestured down at her legs. They had been broken. They were healing, too slowly, though. She looked up at the roof of the warehouse. My heart thudded. She fell? Shejumped? My eyes went wide.

“Could we talk about it later?” She dusted grit off her hands. “I, uh… I…” She stuttered to get her thought out and avoided my eyes, “I think I need some, uh… blood.”

I cocked my head, trying not to smile too big. Now this wasprogress.

I was sure there was another entrance somewhere here, but I didn’t know it so we’d have to go the long way around through the garage. I shifted to one knee, slid an arm delicately under her legs. It would hurt, but there was no way around that.

“No, no, don’t, I’m too heav…” her words cut off in a gasp. I stood and held her gave her a second to recover from the flash of pain.

“Oh. OK. This is OK.” She said surprised like she had never been carried before. I settled her into my arms, and she rested her head against me, like all was right with the world. I closed my eyes, resisting a shudder. I can’t remember the last time I felt this good.

FORTY-THREE

TIFFANY

I was awake instantly from the best sleep of my life. I stretched my arms out of the covers, enjoying the chill. I rubbed my face and clocked myself with the ridiculous watch that hung off my wrist. Lachlan was sprawled on the couch, book in hand. He was mid page turn when I caught his attention, almost like I startled him. He flashed me a smile that just about stopped my heart. Carelessly, he tossed the book to the floor and prowled to the edge of the bed. I gasped, he frowned and stopped dead.

“What?” Concern sharpened his features.

“The book.”

“What about it?” He looked at it on the floor.

“No bookmark. How do you know what page you’re on?”

That devastating smile again as he climbed the bed, climbed me, catching me up in the blankets.

“Page 179.”

His lips met mine around a smile. Instantly heat flared into frustration, my arms and legs were trapped under him and the blankets. Before I could even trip into that uncontrolled feeling, he burrioted me up into the little spoon and was pressing small kisses into my neck. I sighed, my breathing relaxing. It was easier to ride out the feeling when I wasn’t looking at his beautiful face. Just being next to him was soothing.

We drank blood together last night. Calmly, coolly, acting as if it was the most normal, boring, everyday thing. I had asked him to put it in a mug. He made it very obvious he was humoring me on that one. Then we talked for a bit, as my bones magically fixed themselves. He insisted on massaging them.To make sure they healed proper.I suspected he used it as a cover to touch me. And I didn’t mind at all, which shocked me. I wasn’t a PDA kind of girl, but I welcomed the attention. I was turned on and horny but there wasn’t that desperate need clawing out of me. Shaw was right. They were all right. Blood did make everything better. And it didn’t taste that awful.

“What’s it about?”

“Hm?” He scooped me closer.

“The book.”

“Ah. A witch and a vampire have a scandalous love affair.”

“Do, and I can’t believe I’m asking this, real vampires and witches have scandalous love affairs? You know, in real life?”

“Oh god, no.” His accent was more pronounced and sleepy sounding.

“But they’re real? Right? Witches? And magic?”

“Unfortunately. Warren…” He cut off abruptly. I could just about feel the waves of grief shudder over him.

I turned in his arms to face him. His face was lined in a deep frown. I touched his cheek, running my thumb along his lower lip.

“It’s OK to say his name.” He swallowed hard. “Or not. You can just say “he” and I’ll know.”