“I can get that for you,” he purred.

I jerked back but I was still trapped in the cage of his arms. I narrowed my eyes. “Quinn Drake, stop it right now.”

“But I don’t want to,” he drawled. “I want more.”

“I don’t want to dust you.”

“I just want a little taste.”

“You’ve had one,” I pointed out.

“Not nearly enough. I’m greedy for you.”

I didn’t say anything, only stomped down suddenly, aiming for his instep. He easily spread his feet just as suddenly and leaned back against the wall, securing me between his legs.

“Damn it, Quinn.”

“When you get mad like that, your blood smells even sweeter.”

“Then you’re about to go into sugar shock.”

“Let’s see, shall we?”

He kissed me, crowding out all the alarm bells ringing in my head. I kissed him back, hoping to distract him from his thirst. His mouth was gentle when I expected it to be predatory. He was dangerous like water, soft and smooth, even as it filled up your lungs, relentlessly stealing your breath away.

My head tilted and I wasn’t sure if it was the pressure of his mouth on my jaw or my own movement. My throat was exposed and his fangs scraped the tender skin there, but he never pierced my neck. He didn’t drink from me until I collapsed, didn’t drain me until I was too weak to fight back, didn’t let the beast win. He went against everything I was ever taught.

The longer we kissed, the more his hold loosened. He finally let me go, shoving himself farther against the wall.

“You should have staked me,” he said. He looked as if he’d been in a battle, as if he should be carrying a stained sword and a battered shield. “I have to get out of here.” He yanked the door open like it was rope and he was dangling from a cliff top.

“Wait.”

“I have to go!” He snarled and the door slammed shut behind him.

Chapter 21

Quinn

Later Sunday night

When I got home, Lucy was lying on the couch saying the same thing she’d been saying when I left.

“I’m fine.”

Solange was wearing sunglasses and sitting on a chair as far away as she could and still be in the same room, looking like she was about to throw up.

“Stop it.” Lucy threw a pillow at her. Solange didn’t move, and it hit her in the chest. Lucy snorted. “Nice vampire reflexes you got there.”

Nicholas came in holding a painted tray with a steaming mug. Lucy sat up, glaring at him.

“No way.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“I am not drinking one more cup of chamomile tea. You can’t make me.” She folded her arms over her chest.

“You have a head wound.”

“Yeah, and it hasn’t affected my taste buds.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I have three tiny stitches. That’s hardly a real head wound. They always look worse than they really are. Your uncle said so.”

“You didn’t see yourself passed out in the river,” he said stubbornly. “We thought …” He trailed off.

Lucy’s expression gentled slightly. “I’m okay, Nicholas. Promise. A little headache now, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?”

“For the hundredth time, yes.” She looked sheepish. “I passed out when I saw the blood. It just took me by surprise.”

I leaned in the doorway, feeling as if I couldn’t catch my breath. I could still taste Hunter’s blood on my tongue, like candy. I shuddered.

Lucy looked at me, then at Nicholas, who was hovering with a worried scowl, and then at Solange, who was sitting with her knees up to her chest. She let out a disgruntled sigh. “What is wrong with you guys?”

Nicholas and Solange exploded at the same time.

“You nearly died!” Nicholas shouted.

“I could have eaten you!” Solange added.

Silence throbbed for a long moment before Lucy rubbed her face. “You’re both dumb. And way overdramatic.” They just stared at her, clearly expecting a different reaction. There were smudges under her eyes but otherwise she looked fine. Uncle G. had checked her out. He had a couple of medical degrees stashed away, another benefit of a long life span. “Nicholas, stop worrying. I’ve been hurt worse in gym class. Solange, you like blood. Duh.” She pushed three layers of afghans off her lap. “Hello? Vampire.”

“You don’t understand.”

Lucy glowered. “Don’t you dare pull that crap on me, Solange Drake. You might be a vampire but I’ve known you practically our whole lives. I totally understand. Give me some credit.” She turned suddenly, jabbing a finger in my direction. “And you look weird.”

I felt weird. Hunter just did that to me. But even she would understand the danger in being the only human in a room full of monsters. Lucy was stubbornly oblivious.

“I’m fine,” I said with a dry smile. “Drink your chamomile tea.”

“Only if it magically turns into hot chocolate.” Lucy smirked suddenly. “You’re all dressed up.”

“Am not. I just naturally look good.”

She grinned. “You went to see Hunter Wild, didn’t you? That is so much more fun to talk about than my stupid stitches and Solange’s meltdown.”

“I did not have a meltdown,” Solange protested.