Page 29

“So it was just sex then.” Disappointment was evident in Marisol’s voice. “With the other… partners,” she added, like her life depended on getting the term right.

“It was,” Elena admitted, reading every conflicting emotion warring in Marisol’s nervous system. “But it doesn’t have to be. Should all parties consent…” She didn’t conceal the points of her fangs that had returned on their own. “Anything is possible.” She let her gaze drop to Marisol’s mouth. Dressed in nothing but Zuri’s T-shirt and shorts too short to count, she was mouthwatering. Elena eyed her hungrily before adding, “All you need to know is that you’re safe with us and I like you very much. Well…” She found her attention fixed on Marisol’s lips again. “That, and I’d very much like to kiss you again.”

Desire claimed Marisol like a tide. It warmed her freckled cheeks and brightened the green in her eyes. And then jealousy came roaring back to life, mixing with her lust, amplifying it.

How unexpected.

“It looked like your mouth has been plenty busy,” Marisol said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fangs exposed, Elena bit her bottom lip and watched Marisol’s eyes darken. “Gods, stop being jealous. It’s such a fucking turn on.”

Marisol tried to resist smirking, but Elena caught the twitch in her lip. The shift in her energy. She was open and curious and buzzing with anticipation.

“I’m going to see if Zuri needs help with anything.” Marisol stood, energy crackling.

Elena watched her saunter away. Legs muscular and long and exquisitely designed for wrapping around Elena’s neck. As soon as she was a few yards away in the kitchen, Elena cracked open the small window behind her, letting in the warm evening air.

She closed her eyes, ignored her other senses, and focused on the act of listening. She trusted Zuri’s wards; even Elena couldn’t break them. But she couldn’t be sure someone hadn’t tracked them.

Her enhanced hearing strained, filtering through the symphony of night sounds. The rustle of leaves in the wind, the chirping of crickets, the distant croaking of frogs and buzzing of insects. She was listening for the wrong footfall, the snap of a twig that didn’t belong, the unnatural silence that often preceded an attack.

Knowing that someone was out there hunting her filled her with a rabid rage. It didn’t matter if it was one or one thousand. Even if she couldn’t walk, she wouldn’t let any of them leave with their lives. Not again.

Chapter Nineteen

The small woodentable in Zuri’s kitchen usually sat two. Marisol knew that because of its size. And because only two chairs matched the simple round table. And because Zuri told her so while grabbing a folding plastic chair from a shed outside.

Marisol shifted her weight between her bare feet, desperate to feel less in the way. “Can I grab us something to drink?”

“There is water in the fridge,” Zuri replied, her back to Marisol while she chopped fresh herbs on a worn cutting board. “Or there are a few bottles of red in the pantry.” Without looking at her, she gestured toward a small door in the tight kitchen.

Marisol hesitated, her gaze lingering on Zuri’s back. The tank top she was wearing clung to her curves, accentuating her full hips and the gentle sway of her body as she moved. All three of them had used the same shower gel, but it smelled different on Zuri’s skin. Richer, somehow.

Despite herself, Marisol’s cheeks warmed, heat creeping up from her chest and over her throat. She traced Zuri’s shoulders with her gaze. Followed the smooth curve of her waist, and the way her dark curls danced around her neck as she worked.

Averting her eyes, Marisol decided that alcohol was a dangerous choice. Her brain was already scattered. She went to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher with a built-in filter.

What the hell am I doing?She let the cold air of the mostly empty fridge blast her back to her senses.

It was insane. In the span of a few days, fundamental things she knew to be true had been shattered. She’d discovered she was some kind of witch, made out with a vampire, and nearly been killed by another one.

The last thing she should be doing was harboring an attraction to a woman who could make a man relive his worst nightmare with a touch. A woman more intimidating than an actual fucking vampire. A vampire that dripped sex and confidence in a way Marisol could never match, she decided with a deflating ego.

Marisol shook her head, trying to clear the fog of confusion and desire that clouded her thoughts. She needed to focus. She needed to understand what was happening, figure out her place in a world she hadn’t known existed.

After she filled three small water glasses because it felt weird to leave Elena out, Marisol leaned against the butcher block counter. She watched Zuri crack brown eggs into a bowl, her movements fluid and graceful. She whisked the rich orange yolks with a practiced hand.

While she considered her incredibly inappropriate attraction, Marisol decided that her brain might be shielding her from shock. There was no other reason she’d be thinking about Zuri and Elena like this while a homicidal maniac might be advancing toward them. He’d seen Marisol’s power. Would he be after her, too? She should think about surviving, not?—

“Do something useful, Bambi, and pass me the salt.” Zuri’s dark eyes landed on her for the briefest moment. They werea warm hand slithering between Marisol’s thighs, effortlessly parting them.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“My name is?—”

“I know what it is.” Zuri smirked before clearing her throat. “But who doesn’t like a nickname?”

Feeling bold and borrowing the power of the women she was sharing space with, Marisol straightened. “Friendscall me Sol.”