Page 11

Chapter

Eleven

CLAY

T he mist from the waterfall brushes my skin as I glide past it, and then I catch another gust of wind and spiral on up to the top of the trees.

Oh, hell yes. I’m, like, a superhero or something. Just one wearing boxer briefs instead of a rubber suit with a cape.

I let out a holler as I zoom down toward the river.

I keep my feet together, my butt tucked in.

I’m trying to have good form—like a dancer or a gymnast. I stretch my arms over my head like the Man of Steel, but then I spread them wide so I can bank a turn when the thermals spiral.

A sense of freedom takes over my whole body. I can do anything.

Owen was correct. Not only can I fly—glide, whatever—but I’m good at it.

I should’ve remembered that when I was a kid growing up in California, I used to go surfing.

The first few times I tried to stand up on the board, I ate shit.

I couldn’t get the hang of how to catch the wave with the piece of fiberglass and how to balance my body on the board. I fell time and time again.

But once I figured it out, I’d soar down those waves, riding the currents until I made it to shore or fell off the surfboard. Then I’d do it again, and again, and again.

Gliding is the same thing. It’s air surfing.

And Owen is the one who gave me this gift. My heart opens up to the little nerdy human. He’s making me feel invincible.

I fly down to the river, letting it splash my face, then speed back up again.

The heightened emotions help, yeah, but now that I’m figuring out how the balance of this works, I’ll be able to catch the currents again. I’ll just have to practice more.

Knowing how to glide is a major weight off my shoulders, in more ways than one.

It’s not only that my body feels lighter, but the piece of me that’s felt wrong or missing is just…

absent. It’s like I can finally relax in my own blue skin.

Even though I already had vampire speed, this brings my powers to another level.

“Do it again!” Owen calls, and I oblige, soaring up to the top of the waterfall and then taking a leap off. This time I’m more graceful than my last attempt, and while I tell myself to not show off, I do anyway, trying a twist at the end.

Finally, I land next to him, my chest heaving and my soul happy.

Owen grins. “That was amazing!”

“It was! Thanks for your help! I guess insulting me is the way to motivate me.”

He’s totally checking out my abs. I know it.

He looks to the side, then focuses on my eyes. “Sorry about that. You know I didn’t mean it. You’re not worthless at all.” He licks his lips, and while he’s trying not to stare, he keeps looking at my mouth. He kicks at the ground. “So, I guess now…you’re going to, like, call in your bet?”

I freeze for a moment, then shake my head. “Nah. It’s all good. ”

Part of me can’t believe I’m saying that. I really want to kiss him. My body temperature is so low that cool weather is quite comfortable to me, but feeling a warm-blooded human against my skin? That’s the best.

What’s more, I like this spunky nerd. But even I can read the room—err, forest—and I know he doesn’t actually want to kiss me. Our bet was just motivation to get me to fly. Nothing more.

I never want to force him to do something he doesn’t want to do. I can’t forget the way he got the hell out of my dorm room when we got our wires crossed before. I may be slow, but I can learn.

Owen seems like he’s going to say something, then presses his lips tight and nods a few times, breaking eye contact with me.

His shoulders hunch, and he sighs heavily.

“Um, yeah. Okay. Whatever you want.” He rubs his arms and turns, then stumbles mid-stride.

I catch him around the waist, and a zing passes between us where our bodies touch. I let him go quickly.

Did I read him wrong? Does he actually want to kiss me? I open my mouth to say I’ve changed my mind, but he’s already crouched down, opening up Bat Nathanson’s carrier. “Our familiar could watch you, but I think he’s going to want to do his own soaring.”

I grin. “I’ll show him the ropes. Come on, little buddy. Let’s see what you can do.”

Unfortunately, BN flaps his wings a few times, but doesn’t get far.

“There’s no way we’re going to heighten his emotions by yelling at him,” I say.

“Never,” Owen says fiercely. “He’s our baby. We protect him.”

After another minute of watching him fail to get anywhere, we put BN back in the carrier.

“Do you mind if I take to the sky one more time?” I ask .

“Not at all.” Owen gives me a shooing motion, so I super-speed to the ledge again. I jump off and after diving down, I glide up into the sky.

The wind feels amazing. There’s only one feeling better than flying—sex, obviously—but I’m not getting any of that any time soon. So I focus on riding the thermals until I land by Owen, content but exhilarated.

Well, content with flying. I just wish Owen would be as open to exploring things with me as I am with him.

We return to the hotel room, and I take a quick shower, needing to wash the river water off of me. I wrap a towel around my waist and enter our bedroom. Owen looks up at me and stares.

He’s been playing on his phone, but he drops it on the bed as his jaw parts slightly. What a cutie. He likes me, he’s just trying to hide it.

I hold out my arms. “Like what you see?”

Owen’s cheeks darken. “Um…”

I flash my fangs. “Just messing with you, Bhat. I know you can’t stand jocks.

“Um, right…can’t stand jocks.”

I don’t need vampire hearing to realize that last sentence lacked conviction. Hmm, perhaps I’m not completely out of luck with this sexy nerd.

He gets up and fusses with Bat Nathanson. Since BN’s nocturnal, we’ve taken to letting him out of his terrarium at night, which he seems to appreciate. Owen gives him some fresh water and a container of blood with a sippy straw .

Must be nice to have Owen caring for you.

The hotel room’s pleasant enough, with two queen beds, a large television, and a sitting area off to the side. It’s decorated in an understated, trendy, modern style. Being so close to the gorge, the environs are quiet and very peaceful.

I walk over to my luggage and fish out a pair of boxer briefs. I might as well not scandalize Owen further. I drop my towel but turn away from him so he doesn’t get more of a glimpse of the bits than he wants.

“Do you need to sleep?” Owen asks, interested, as always, in my monster habits.

Tugging my underwear up my legs, I snap the waistband and walk my towel back into the bathroom so it can dry. “No,” I call. “But I rest sometimes and it feels good to be in bed. Alone or with someone else. Mostly with someone, though.”

I realize how that second part of the sentence sounds—like I want him in my bed, which of course, I do.

The thing is, though, while I’m really attracted to Owen, I want more than his body.

I like his earnestness and intelligence.

I like how enthusiastic he is about his studies.

I’ve always liked bookish guys in general, but there’s something special about Owen.

He doesn’t make me feel like I’m lacking in the brains department.

He makes me feel like I’m more than just a loser vampire who took twenty years before I got my act together enough to go to college. He makes me feel…worthy.

Returning to the room, Owen’s propped up in his bed, glasses perched on his nose, and a tablet open in front of him.

“Whatcha reading?” I ask.

“It’s a scientific article on vampire flight, comparing it to vampire bat flight.”

“Isn’t it a tad late to be reading it?” I turn down the covers on my bed.

“Well, just because you can fly now doesn’t mean you won’t have further questions or can’t improve.”

“I meant that it’s midnight.” I motion to the light, and he nods, chuckling. I flip the switch.

“Oh, yeah. That. Yes.” He sets his tablet down on the bedside table, removes his glasses, and places them next to it. Then he flops on his side, facing me. While it takes my eyes a moment to get used to the dark, I can see quite well. An advantage of being a bloodsucking monster, I guess.

I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling.

It’s smooth white paint, glowing in the faint light of the outside hall light, and really not very interesting.

But I have to focus on something other than the hot-blooded male lying in the next bed over, before I fly over there—literally—and give him that kiss I won.

But I fail at shifting focus. All I’m thinking about is how I can feel his heat, even across the room. How I can hear his heartbeat speed up.

His breath is coming in quick pants.

He flips the sheet off of him.

I smell his arousal.

Monster god, I’m going to go over and do something I’ll regret. Something he doesn’t want me to do. Or something he says he doesn’t want me to do. I’ll respect his wishes.

The second he makes a move, though, I’m all over him.

It’ll have to be up to him.

I flip over so my back is facing him, which is not at all how I want to be. But I don’t know how else to shut him out. He’s just too mouthwatering. My fangs are completely descended, my cock is thickening, and I’m dying for a taste of him.

But I can control my thirst. Both kinds—for his blood and his body.

I think.

I busy myself counting Owen’s heartbeats, and while I don’t have a clock out, they seem to be going faster than seventy beats per minute. I start counting his heartbeats.

One, two, three…

100, 101, 102…

1,000, 1,001, 1,002…

A rustle in his bed.

Now I’m up to 1,862, 1,863, 1,864 heartbeats. So, it's been like eighteen minutes since I turned out the light, I think.

He shuffles his covers and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Maybe he has to go pee.

1,867, 1,868. His heart rate speeds even faster. 1,872, 1,873. Owen’s feet pad across the carpeted floor.

Except, instead of going to the bathroom, he walks over to the side of my bed.

1,980.