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“I’m just fucking with you,” Zuri replied with a delighted laugh, a mismatched espresso cup in each hand.

Hand to her pounding heart, Marisol closed her eyes to catch her breath.

“Here. Drink the coffee you left on my stove and thankfully didn’t burn my house down with.” Zuri handed her one of the small cups.

Marisol had never felt so incompetent in her life. “I was coming right back.” She met Zuri’s dark eyes. “I just wanted to grab some eggs to apologize for stealing your bed, and then I realized that I didn’t know how?—”

“Don’t be a martyr about it, Bambi.” Zuri took a sip of the espresso, expression too relaxed for someone who’d been accused of attempted murder the night before. “My back pain will forgive you eventually.”

Had she and Elena made up? Images of Zuri and Elena exchanging breathless apologies while they kissed and clung to each other punched her in the gut. As if she needed another reminder that she didn’t fit in there. That she’d never fit in anywhere again.

Knocking back the very hot and perfectly sweetened coffee like it was laced with courage, Marisol made a decision at the same time her burnt lips started moving.

“I’m going to leave,” she said, gaze drifting from Zuri because she was too intimidating to look at directly. “I don’t belong here.” She forced herself to look at her again so Zuri would believe her when she said, “I’m not trying to steal your girlfriend or be the third wheel.”

Zuri sipped her coffee, expression completely unreadable. She was so quiet for so long that Marisol lost touch with her body. She was nothing but a pounding heart and seared tongue sticking to the roof of her obliterated mouth.

“Whatever you and Elena have going on is fully none of my business. We’re absolutely, under no uncertain terms, never getting back together,” Zuri said without blinking. “As to leaving…” She shrugged. “You’re not a prisoner here, Bambi. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

At Zuri’s unexpected response, Marisol stepped back. There was something in Zuri’s tone that wasn’t matching her words. She hadn’t figured out the disconnect before Zuri finished her coffee and palmed the small cup.

“You haven’t asked me for my opinion, and despite the misconception that I’m a bossy bitch, I tend to keep my nose on my face and out of people’s messes.” Her expression didn’t exactly soften, but something in her energy did. “There’s so much you don’t know, and I don’t know where to begin to explain. It’s like that movie where the caveman defrosts and wakes up in modern times. There’s more shit than time, but Ican promise you you’re safe here.” She paused, attention darting toward the far-off gate obscured by trees. “I can’t promise you that you’ll be safe out there. Whoever the hell sent that goon is probably very curious about whatever you’ve got going on.” She repeated the gesture of outlining wings with her hands. “And one thing that witches and vampires get right is the importance of keeping a pack. We’re only as strong as the people watching our backs.”

Fear and worry swirled in her belly like a disorienting mass. “You think there’s more than just that one vampire?”

Zuri nodded. “Never tell her I said this or you’re dead to me, but Elena is a big fucking deal. Someone took a huge swing by trying to take her out. It’s not going to be one ineffectual loser who ran off and left us alive. Plus, this thing with her healing.” She shook her head, brows drawn together in worry. “There’s something deeper going on here.”

Picking through what Zuri had said, Marisol posed another question while a hen picked at a flower by her foot. “Why aren’t the witches in your coven here? If what you said is true about strength in numbers, why not have them here as backup instead of a broken vampire and question mark nurse?”

Zuri’s full lips pulled into a smile that disappeared almost immediately when she responded to the serious part of her question. “I know my coven would never be involved in this, but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t try to exploit the situation. I don’t want anyone to know Elena is weak. Despite all their talk of detente, vampires can be ruthless.”

Marisol was going to ask her to tell her more, to start somewhere and just start talking, but Zuri’s expression changed like an idea had struck her like lightning.

“You’re not totally a question mark,” she said, eyes bright. “You’re obviously a healer. What if we gave Elena your blood?There could be something in your actual blood that’ll help, and I can’t imagine it will make things worse.”

Marisol’s skin turned icy despite the hot, humid morning. She’d been so ready to let Elena take whatever the hell she wanted when they were in the hospital, but in the light of day and with so much already in turmoil, she wasn’t sure she could do it.

“She’s not going to bite you,” Zuri assured her, even though Marisol wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she was afraid of. Her medical curiosity wanted to be bitten, to understand how it worked, but she was too embarrassed to ask.

“Okay,” Marisol agreed, unsure of what awaited her inside. “Why not?”

Zuri’s expression flashed with something unreadable, making Marisol’s stomach clench. “It’s a lot easier to stay in control without the bite.”

As they started for the house, Marisol’s anticipation pounded in her chest. An image of Elena tearing her neck like an animal made her knees weak and pace slow. What the heck was she about to get herself into?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

In the samechair Zuri had left her in, which was something of a relief, Elena was looking at one of the books Zuri had stacked on the side table for later. She still thought it was ridiculous that Elena hated reading, but she said she’d had over a hundred years of dry tomes and preferred movies.

“We’re going to try giving you her blood,” Zuri said before branching off into the kitchen to get the ring she’d sanitized.

When she’d returned to the main room, Elena looked like all of her dreams had come true. Putting herself between her and Marisol’s trembling body, Zuri handed her the ring. “No biting.”

“Oh, come on,” she whined. “It’s so much more fun if I?—”

“Has that ever worked for you, Elena?” Zuri snapped, unmoved by her big brown eyes and the fangs she knew were already sharp and ready.

“There’s always a first time for everything, baby.” Elena shifted in her chair, preparing herself for the gift of Marisol’s smooth skin.