Page 50 of Taste of Blood

I did not need to hear that, nor witness the sadness in his eyes. The moment passes awkwardly. I spot my jacket slung over the back of the couch and reach for it. My keys and phone are on the end of the island. I stuff them in my pocket then look up at him again.

“Okay, so I guess I’ll head out.”

“I’ll walk down with you,” he says as he slips on his jacket and grabs his briefcase.

When we get to the elevator, he turns to me before it arrives and leans forward, planting an open-mouthed kiss on my lips. The move surprises me so much I don’t have time to react.

He pulls back with a smirk. “I deserved that after letting you sleep unmolested beside me all night.”

We get into the elevator while I resist the urge to touch my lips. Just for a minute, I consider returning the favor, but push that impulse aside.

Damn, Asher.

I do not need this distraction.

18: Asher

FOUR DAYS.

Four days since Cord spent the night in my bed and I haven’t heard a word from him since. Not that I expected to.

Elaine’s search into the Python has still yielded no results, and I can tell it’s frustrating her. She likes a good mystery, but she’s used to success. I get the feeling she resents me for bringing this to her, but I’m as disappointed as she is. If I had something, it would be an excuse to call Cord.

I had hoped, with my efforts in the alley, that we would be past this whole avoidance bullshit, but then I realize he’s probably got his plate full right now and I’m the last thing on his mind. But the thought of him out there, tired and hungry–vulnerable–twists my gut.

I thought about sending a donor to his apartment, but I don’t know if he’s even there. Knowing him, he’s running twenty-four-seven until he finds this Python character.

I go through the motions at the office every day, pretending things are normal, but my mind never strays far from him. What is he doing? Is he in danger? Has he been feeding?

And there’s the other part. The physical part. Face it, I need him. I need the feel of him against me. The taste of him in my mouth. The sound of him coming undone in my arms. I know it’s selfish when he’s risking his life for all of us, but I never professed to being a saint.

Cord was right when he said I was single-minded. I am…when it comes to him.

I’m back to looking for excuses to call him or show up at his apartment, so imagine my surprise when I get home from the office to find him slumped against the side of my building.

My worst fears are realized when I discover he doesn’t even notice me as I approach him.

“Cord?”

There’s dried blood on his face and in his hair, and I can smell more on his clothes. He peers at me from behind his disheveled hair, his voice weak when he asks, “Does that offer of help still stand?”

“Let’s get you upstairs.”

I wrap an arm around his waist and guide him into the building. He winces as though he’s in pain, but says nothing. The concierge looks up as we pass, alarm in his eyes.

“Everything all right, sir?”

“It’s fine, Ralph. My friend just needs to sleep it off.” I hope he doesn’t notice the blood.

I get Cord into the elevator and up to my apartment. I was aiming for the bed, but he collapses on the couch with a grunt of pain. I pull his jacket and shirt off him to get a better look.

He’s been beaten badly, the bruises already turning his tattooed skin purple. What looks like several knife wounds crisscross his chest and arms. Vampires can heal enormous amounts of damage but that requires blood. I pull out my phone and punch in Lazlo’s number.

“I’ve got a Code 3. I’ll need three donors as fast as you can get them here.”

A Code 3 is an injured member, one of the highest orders of emergency for our kind. We all know the danger a wounded vampire can cause. Severe blood loss and trauma can lead toblood fever, when the member loses all control and his baser instincts take over.

Cord seems in control right now, but I don’t know the full extent of his injuries.