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“We’re always a lot stronger than we think.” Zuri’s hand was warm on Marisol’s shoulder. “Some of us don’t get the luxury of being weak ass pussies.”

The response was so unexpected it knocked Marisol out of her misery with only a few tears irritating her cheeks. “What?” she chuckled more out of confusion than amusement.

Zuri spared her the briefest smirk before withdrawing her hand. Until then, Marisol hadn’t realized just how much she needed to be touched with kindness. “It means I’m sorry I can’t bring party favors to your pity party.” She stood and gestured for her to follow. “We have a whole vampire to somehow heal.”

“I’ll just put off my existential dread and the fallout from my fractured reality until then,” she joked, drying her face with the bottom of her borrowed tank.

“Now you get it.” This time when Zuri put her hand on Marisol’s lower back, she almost asked her to keep it there.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Guilt wasan emotion Elena had worked hard to eliminate. When life stretched out before her like an endless ocean—unknowable in its vastness—it didn’t do to feel bad about things she couldn’t change. And yet, when she hobbled out of the closet using Zuri and Marisol as crutches, her chest heaved at the sight of the blue tarp smothering the light that made Zuri’s house her sanctuary.

Once seated at the kitchen table, Elena ran her thumb over one of Zuri’s mismatched mugs. An ugly little thing with a cartoon dragon smiling above the words:you’re roar-some.

Marisol had served her coffee in a gesture that was both sweet and peculiar. Surely, she’d guess Elena only drank blood and good booze.

“We need to figure out who the hell wants to kill you,” Zuri said, as if calling some kind of meeting to order.

“I have nearly three centuries’ worth of ex-lovers,” Elena replied with a smirk. “I’m happy to compile a list of suspects when my brain is no longer Swiss cheese.”

Sitting across the small round table from each other, Zuri and Marisol exchanged a glance. Eyes rolling in the sameadorably irate way before turning back to Elena as if she’d missed how unamused they were by her joke.

Her smirk stretched into a genuine smile. The energy between Zuri and Marisol was already crackling. A heady mix of curiosity and burgeoning desire filled the air. Inhaling it greedily, Elena had to stop her fangs from getting away from her.

They were more alike than they knew. Strong women, possessive in the best way, loyal, protective, and an addictively fearless. Zuri wore her traits in the fire in her eyes and the sass on her smart mouth. Marisol’s traits were subtler, but no less present.

Elena was sure these women were going to be the most interesting handfuls. Cheeks flushed and her gaze lingering a beat too long on Zuri’s lips, Marisol’s pulse quickened against her long, sinful neck. The glance they exchanged had the opposite effect on Zuri, her energy softening even as her skin warmed.

She was going to enjoy them, Elena knew with unshakable certainty, and it would be nice if she wasn’t in agony when she did. “I’d love to help, baby, but shall I remind you again that I can’t?—”

“You remembered Zuri as soon as you saw her,” Marisol interrupted. “Maybe if she told you what she knows about you? It could bring stuff back?”

Zuri tipped her head to the side, dark fathomless eyes trained on Elena. When she apparently couldn’t see the harm in Marisol’s suggestion, she straightened.

“You have two blood daughters,” Zuri said. “Librada is keeping your throne warm, and Sofia is sharpening her knives. YourSangre Eternavampire cartel runs Florida, except for the St. Augustine enclave you gave your adopted daughter, Narine.”

She remembered nothing about giving away territory. It didn’t ring true in her bones, but she listened carefully to therest. As Zuri talked, Elena filtered through the editorializing of facts as Zuri saw them. Eyes closed, she tried to form images in her mind.

Just the names Librada and Sofia conjured a sensation in her chest. Love, deep and true. It was like her muscles and bones remembered what her brain couldn’t. She trusted those names, even if she couldn’t picture more than a small blonde and a tall brunette.

“Take me to them,” Elena said, interrupting Zuri’s rundown of Elena’s business dealings.

“Righty and lefty?” Zuri leaned back, arms crossed over her chest sayingfuck nobefore her words did. “Not a chance.”

“I trust them, Zuri. I’m sure that I do?—”

“Yeah, well. Maybe once we know who the fuck is trying to murder you, I’ll risk?—”

Anger flashed in Elena’s belly. “I’m not your prisoner. If I want to go?—”

Standing as if to show off her two good legs, Zuri moved like a lightning strike, palms splayed on the table. “What exactly do you think will happen if anyone sees you like this?” The vein in Zuri’s forehead pulsed, a living thing signaling her displeasure. “Have you also forgotten how vampires handle weakness? Weakness of any kind?” She made a fist and slammed it, mugs rattling. Fear—sour and pungent and heartrending—rippled off Zuri in choking waves.

If Elena had been on her feet, the force of the sonic blast would have sent her staggering backward. It was enough to diffuse her indignation at being told no like a child. To allow Zuri the moment of control.

“Maybe we could table vampire reunification for now,” Marisol suggested, eyes darting between Zuri and Elena like she was reaching for deescalation training. “I’ll make more coffee and Zuri can keep filling in the gaps in your memory. Thatworks, right? Knowledge is power,” she added because she was physiologically incapable of not rambling when she was anxious.

Elena calmed her nervous system and waited for Zuri’s inferior one to catch up. It didn’t. Zuri was still dripping with fear.