Alistair rolls his eyes, unfazed. “Swear that you’ll watch your back.”
I sigh; the weight of my past perches heavily on my throat. Unlike the locked chest of memories in my mind, my body isn’t capable of forgetting. It remembers every bruise. Every night I went to bed with hunger gnawing at my belly. If Alistair knew the half of it, he’d know I’m physically incapable of not watching my back.
“I will,” I say, keeping the truth simple to ensure neither of us get sucked into my past. Finger by finger, I detach his grip from the counter to leave, being careful not to bruise him in the process. “See you soon.”
“The instant the sun falls and not a moment later,” he promises, his brows cutting two dark, angry swaths across his face.
My lips curl. “That was almost poetic.”
“There’s more where that came from.” His blue eyes rake over my body, heating my skin like an open flame. Shaking my head at his annoyingly distracting smolder, I join Luca and Ciprian at thefront door, where they haven’t made a single attempt to give us privacy.
“Go to your room,” Luca orders Alistair, sounding every bit the exasperated mom. “I don’t want to roast you when I open the door.”
Alistair glares, then shuffles away without arguing, and I shake my head. I need to ask Luca how the fuck he does it. Sighing, I pull my wings into my skin, cool air rushing through the holes in my shirt. I’m still wearing Alistair’s clothes.
“I forgot to give you your shirt back,” I call out.
Alistair reappears in the arched opening in a flash, his gaze hungry. “Keep it,” he insists. “It looks better on you, anyway.” Before I can respond, he disappears again.
Shaking my head, I follow Luca and Ciprian out the front door, closing it firmly behind me as my vision adjusts to the bright light.
Once we’re on the street, I straddle my bike and head out, enjoying the peace... for all of three minutes. Luca and Ciprian follow me to the store. Once I get there, Luca waits by his car until I come out with the room-darkening shades, then trails my bike home. Only when I’m inside the apartment and glaring out of my locked window, do they pull away from the scuffed, sunbaked curb.
I swallow my frustration. At least Luca didn’t try to follow me inside the store. I huff, chopping the decorative pillows on my couch into submission until I feel better.
My apartment is exactly as I left it; no sign of more intruders. After scarfing down a dry sandwich with the last of my bread, I get to work preparing for company. While the sun is brightest, I hang the shades, resigning myself to an immediate future with little to no natural light.
I don’t know how Alistair stands it. I guess he has no choice. I’ve never asked him how he became a vampire. It’s not a politequestion to throw at someone you barely know, but now he’s been inside me in more ways than one. He knows how I taste—again, in more ways than one.
Can I ask him about his past without revealing my own? My sense of fairness nips that idea in the bud. It’s too risky, and I don’t need to know more about Alistair. He’s good in bed, and he’s decent out of it too. I should leave it at that.
Once I’m sure the shades are keeping enough light out to allow him to get around the apartment without catching fire, I blow up the air mattress and put clean sheets on it. A sigh escapes me when I realize all three of my guests are too tall to sleep comfortably in here.
My back itches.
This isn’t my fault. It’s not like I decided to open a bed-and-breakfast and cut costs on accommodations. They’re lucky I even have a second bedroom. We can all thank my horny superintendent for insisting on the free upgrade. He wants me to thank him on my knees, which is never going to happen, but at least I have the extra space.
My grocery delivery arrives as I’m tucking the spare quilt under the bottom of the air mattress. I collect the bags of food and thank the delivery guy, then stock my pantry and refrigerator. The repetition relaxes me in a way ten million empty words never could.
When you know the truth, nothing grates more than a lie—even if it’s meant as kindness.
I put Luca’s favorite beer next to my seltzer water, clearing out space on the right side in case Alistair needs to store blood there. Ciprian is a wild card. I don’t know what he eats or drinks. Maybe I should have grabbed some different options—No, quit stressing about this,I tell myself.You aren’t running a hotel.
Toeing the fridge closed, I survey the main living area with acritical eye. It’s perfect. There’s nothing else to do. My shoulders sag.
Luca should be here soon. Like I thought him into existence, two familiar knocks sound on the door. I breathe a sigh of relief and throw it open.
Luca steps in with a duffle bag tossed over his shoulder, and a piece of stress I didn’t realize I was carrying falls away. He’s here. Safe. Not lying somewhere in a ditch. I check his clothes to be sure, but all his blood appears to be in his body where it belongs.
“Do I even want to know where your head went?”
I shrug. “Probably the same place yours went when you followed me to the store.”
Luca’s face softens. “Am I the first one here?”
After I nod, he drops his bag, then wraps his arms around me and kisses me. “Good. We’ve got to talk about hiding us from Ciprian. He doesn’t strike me as a gossip. If we told him we’re together, I doubt he would tell anyone. I know why we started with that story, but I don’t think I’ll be able to lie low while Alistair paws at you on every piece of furniture.”
“He doesn’t paw,” I say, laughing a little, even as my shoulders tense.
