Page 39 of This Blood that Bonds Us

Kimberly. I hadn’t forgotten about the bloodlust, but I felt lighter than before. More in control.

I wrapped Presley in a hug. “Thank you.”

“Does this mean we’re not making snow angels?”

Seventeen

Kimberly

I flipped through the pages of a book, pretending to care. I’d already cooked with Vera, watched her eat, and listened to her stories. I cared, but not more than I cared about where the boys were.

I couldn’t stop looking at the door between the paragraphs that weren’t registering in my brain.

They were fine, I told myself over and over again, but I’d been thinking over every scenario. The most likely ones were all leading down roads I didn’t want to believe in. Legion. The Family. They could be here. They could have taken them somewhere I wouldn’t be able find them, then I’d never see either of them again.

I repeated the cycle again. Read a paragraph. Glanced at the door. Spiral.

I was about to start counting the words on the page when Presley emerged with a brown bag and a milk jug. “Here you go, Mom. Aaron’s turning in for the night I think.”

“What? Why?”

“I think he just wants some alone time.” Presley looked at me and raised his brows.

I was instantly on my feet, excusing myself, then out the door. I’d slipped my shoes on the wrong feet, then stumbled my way to our cabin.

A fire cracked in our fireplace, and the flames cast a glow on the wall as I climbed my way to the loft.

Aaron peeled off his shirt as I entered. A strange scent lingered on the clothes at his feet. Nothing I could easily identify. Then I saw the deep red covering him as he dropped his jeans.

He turned to me. “It’s not what it looks like. It’s deer blood.”

“Oh.” My shoulders pulled back as a flush of heat ran through me.

I refused to move as he pulled some pajama pants from his backpack. There was still blood smudged over his face and torso where it had stained through his shirt.

I went for a rag on the kitchen counter and a bottle of water. It was mostly frozen solid.

“Sit. Tell me what happened. Where did you go?” I said, cornering him at the edge of the bed.

He stared at the floor while I poured some of the freezing water on the rag to dab it on his skin.

He winced when it touched him.Good.I forced the lump down my throat.

“I was feeling overwhelmed with thirst and needed some air and just started walking through the trees. I attacked a deer . . . I knew it wouldn’t help, but I was desperate.”

I said nothing, moving the towel to wipe the red from his cheek and lips.

“I just didn’t want to drink from you again.”

I stopped, placing the rag on the bedside table. “Does it help?”

“Yeah . . .”

I met his gaze. The lamplight illuminated the lingering warmth in his eyes.

His pupils consumed me, fixing me in place at his side. He was starving for blood, but I wouldn’t let him off that easily.

“This isn’t working,” I said, moving away from him and toward the dresser.