No offense to Chad the cheetah shifter, but even his decent skills drop to nothing when I think about Dexter, and all I’ve done is kiss the vamp!
Once I clean up the toy—and me—and return to bed, I settle in. Still, it takes me way longer to fall asleep than I thought it would. I can’t stop thinking about Dexter and the things he admitted to me tonight.
I’ve never had a vampire open up to me like that before.
Hell, while I am a keeper of secrets, I’ve never hadanyoneopen up to me like that before, in such a personal way, and about something so…intimate and traumatic.
Mostly because I’ve neverhadanyone.
Yes, I’m nearly certain he’s not bullshitting me. It was almost like he felt relieved to be able to be honest with me.
Then, there was the cuddling.
Holyshit. Thecuddling.
We…cuddled!
I literally haven’t been able to do that in…ever. Not even with the cheetah shifter that time. We were both horny and not looking for anything other than sex.
At some point, apparently, I drift to sleep. I awaken at my usual time to several texts, from Selene, Amber, and from Dexter’s man, John, who will be picking me up and wants to confirm my address and the time.
First, the bathroom. Hair’s still black, so…yay. I handle business and then return to sit on my bed.
I answer John first, to get that out of the way.
Then I reply to Selene, knowing it’ll be awhile before she responds.Duh, she’s asleep.
I leave Amber for last, because I know what will happen. As soon as I reply, less than thirty seconds later, she’s calling me.
“Well? How’d it go?”
“You know exactly how it went.” I flop back onto my unmade bed. “It wentamazing. I didn’t even scare him off when I had to stab a vamp with a pencil.”
“You can trust him, honey. He’s so into you, it’s nearly painful. He’s your future.”
I try not to get my hopes up over that. “Will you be there tonight? I’d like for you to meet him.”
“Unfortunately, no. I’ve got a charity auction I’m running. Otherwise, I would.”
“Is there anything else you see?”
She goes quiet for a moment, and I wait her out. “Mazbushka.”
Feels like my heart stutters. “What?” It comes out a whisper.
“It’s what your father calls you.”
I swallow hard. I’ve seen her make some pretty freaky predictions that were dead-on. “Called,” I sadly correct. “He’s dead.”
“No.Calls. He’snotdead.” Her firm tone brooks no resistance. “He’s not dead. He’s…hiding. Although that doesn’t feel exactly right. He is concealed, somehow.”
I’ve never had an in-depth conversation with her about my parents. “That’s…that’s impossible.”
“I know what I see.”
I’m glad I’m already lying down. “But he’sdead. Mom wouldn’t have lied to me about that!”
Another pause. “She didn’t lie to you. That’s what she suspected. She didn’t know for sure. She assumed he was dead, because he never…returned.”
