I was crushing her hand between mine.
“Shit,” I rasped, releasing her.
She pulled her hand into her lap. With the other, she clutched the quilt more firmly around her shoulders, hiding the faded marks on her neck. “Is everything okay?” she asked.
I tried for what I hoped was a reassuring expression. “Sorry. Just worried about you.”
My mind raced as I eased back, putting necessary space between us. Her advisor, Dr. Henry, had been helping her since she was fourteen years old. He couldn’t be a vampire. If he’d been feeding from Charlotte for nine years, addiction would have chained her to his side.
But he’d given her pills…
Could they contain some kind of antidote? A drug that helped her cope with the withdrawal? These were questions for Everett, who could analyze the medication in his lab.
Then again, maybe I was just being fanciful. Maybe the pills were exactly what they appeared to be: insomnia medication from a mentor concerned for an overworked student’s sleep schedule. One bout of sleepwalking didn’t mean someone was a vampire’s victim.
Either way, I couldn’t ask Charlotte about the marks. Not until I knew more. The ancients among the vampires were mind readers, and almost every vampire on the planet was an ancient. They killed off weaker competitors when they moved into a new feeding zone. If Dr. Henry was feeding from Charlotte, he almost certainly had access to her mind. Asking her about him could put her in danger. If he discovered my suspicions, he could compel her to return to him, where he’d kill her before she exposed him to the humans.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Charlotte asked, jerking me from the whirlwind of my thoughts. Her hair was drying in loose waves, giving her the look of a vulnerable goddess. A few lingering snowflakes dotted the glossy red strands.
She was gorgeous.
Mine.
My bear rumbled its agreement.
“I’m sure,” I said, my voice low and rough. My chest ached, need wrapping around me like iron bands. At the same time, fury kindled in my chest. If Henry had hurt her…
Charlotte shivered, her slim fingers tight on the quilt.
“You’re still cold,” I said. And, god, I wanted to warm her up. I wanted to snatch away the blanket and wrap myself around her instead. Shift and let my bear’s heat banish the snow.
She held my stare. Dipped her gaze to my mouth. “A little.”
Wind howled, the sharp sound whistling against the window. Charlotte and I looked together. Snow gusted in great swaths, flakes eddying and spinning in a wild rush.
“I’ve never seen snow like this,” Charlotte said. Her profile was perfect, the slope of her nose like something out of a painting. If I’d been capable of drawing, I would have asked her to stay just like that so I could capture her and the moment forever. So I could have a piece of her to carry against my heart after she was gone.
I swallowed. “It doesn’t snow in Colorado?”
She turned back to me, a little smile on her lips. “Yes. But not like this.”
“It’s Alaska,” I said because I couldn’t say what I wanted to. I couldn’t make myself younger or human. I couldn’t erase the decades and obstacles between us.
Charlotte hesitated. “Would you ever want to…?”
“What?” I asked, my heart pumping faster. If she’d been a shifter, she would have heard it. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t like me at all.
She licked her lips, and I suppressed a groan. “Would you visit Colorado? If you got the chance?”
“I’m needed here.”
“At an empty bed and breakfast?” Her voice was light, but her eyes were serious. We both knew what she was really asking.
The truth rose in my mind, ready for me to speak the words I’d been avoiding. But I wasn’t ready. Everett hadn’t tested her blood. If she wasn’t compatible, the truth didn’t matter.
“My father was a leader in Bear Cove,” I said.
Charlotte stilled.
