Page 47

Oh. Right. When I leave.

"Why'd you bring me here?" I ask.

"Well, not to murder you," he says. "I thought you might be bored, I know you like to read. The horror section is over here." He walks to the end of the bookshelf and turns down the next row. I climb down the ladder and follow him.

"I can take any of these?" I ask.

"Yep," he says, leaning against the shelf.

I search the shelves and pull out a couple of my favorite Stephen Kings. Declan adds a book to the top of the stack. "Have you read this one?"

I read aloud from the cover, "At the Mountains of Madnessby H.P. Lovecraft. No, I haven't. Are you trying to tell me something?"

"You're overthinking again," he says. "Just thought you might like it."

"Okay," I shrug. "I'll try it."

He's quiet while I search the shelves for about ten more minutes, adding a couple more books to my stack.

"Okay," I tell him. "I think I'm set."

"After you," Declan says. He places a hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the door. I swear I don't breathe until we're back inside the elevator.

"What'd you think of the party last night?" he asks as he opens the gate again.

"Um, I'm not sure," I say. "I think maybe I was drugged."

"No one gave you drugs, Teagan," he says as we step into the bedroom. "I told you about the blood. Do you believe me now?"

I remember how I felt last night…alive. Like everything was alive. Hyperaware of every sensation. Horny as fuck.

"I haven't decided yet."

"I see," he says, frowning.

I sit on the bed with the books still in my arms. Declan stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leans against the dresser.

Why is he still in here? Does he want something?

"Um, I think I'll try this one first," I say, holding up the book he recommended.

"Did you fuck him?" he asks.

"Luca? No."

"Good. Teagan, I—"

"Declan." I look to the doorway and see Layla looking back and forth between the two of us. Tears well in her eyes. "What are you—"

"Enjoy the books," Declan says, interrupting her. He turns and leaves the room without another word.

Her pain-filled eyes meet mine. "I was just borrowing some books," I tell her.

"Yeah," she says softly. "Okay. Um, we're going to eat soon. Alana ordered Chinese food. Do you like Chinese food?"

She blinks, and silent tears run down her cheeks.

"Yeah…but Layla—"