She shudders, and I can feel her resolve crumbling.
“Hate to break up this moment,” Hannah says dryly, “but Blade sent me to make sure Tessa doesn’t do anything stupid.Like, say, steal a truck and drive off into the wilderness where an ice demon is waiting to eat her.”
Tessa’s cheeks flush red.“I wasn’t—”
“Yes, you were,” Hannah and I say simultaneously.
Tessa glares at both of us, but there’s no real heat in it.Only exhaustion and fear and the lingering haze of arousal that makes my fangs ache all over again.
“Come on,” Hannah says gently, stepping forward and holding out her hand.“Let’s get you back upstairs.We can talk about this later when everyone’s not running on adrenaline and fear.”
Tessa looks at Hannah’s hand.Then at me.Then at the duffel bag still lying on the floor.
“I’m staying,” she says finally.“But not because you ordered me to.”
“Why, then?”
She meets my eyes, and there’s steel in her gaze.“Because if I’m going to die, I’d rather do it fighting than running.And if you’re all insane enough to risk your lives for me, the least I can do is stick around and try not to get you killed.”
It’s not a declaration of love.It’s not even trust, not really.
But it’s a start.
“That works,” Hannah says, relief clear in her voice.She takes Tessa’s hand and starts leading her toward the stairs, throwing a look over her shoulder at me.“You coming, or are you going to brood down here?”
“Give me a minute.”
They disappear up the stairs, and I’m left alone in the garage with the taste of Tessa on my lips and the ghost of her touch still burning through my skin.
I slam my fist into the van’s side panel.Once.Twice.Three times.The metal dents and crumples under vampire strength, and the pain feels good.Grounding.
Because Prophet was right.
I’m compromised.
Completely, utterly, irreversibly compromised.
And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it except pray I’m strong enough to protect her without destroying her.
Please,I think to whatever gods or angels might be listening.Don’t let me fail her.Don’t let me be the reason she dies.
But the universe doesn’t answer.
It never does.
So, I straighten my shirt, run a hand through my hair, and head back upstairs to stand guard outside her door.
Because that’s all I can do.
Protect her.
Want her.
And hope to fuck that wanting her doesn’t kill us both.
