His lips curved, but not into a smile. “Maybe. I don’t like being what I am.”
That made me blink. “You expect me to believe that?”
He shrugged. “Believe what you want. Doesn’t make it less true.”
The honesty in his tone disarmed me more than any weapon could have.
I turned away, staring into the fire instead. “You could’ve killed me while I was out,” I muttered.
“I thought about it,” Simon admitted.
That made me look back at him sharply, but his expression was unreadable.
“Not because I wanted to,” he added quickly. “Because it would’ve been easier. No hunters. No danger. No wondering if you’d wake up and decide I didn’t deserve to live.”
“And yet you didn’t,” I pointed out.
He met my gaze steadily. “You saved me too. Back there. You didn’t have to.”
“Instinct,” I said. “Bad habit.”
Simon’s mouth twitched. “Then I’m glad for your bad habits.”
It shouldn’t have meant anything. But the way he said it, quiet, grateful and genuine, it settled somewhere deep and uncomfortable.
I leaned my head back against the wall, eyes closing. For a while, neither of us spoke. The fire popped, throwing soft shadows across the floor.
I must’ve dozed, because the next thing I felt was a hand on my shoulder.
“Kit,” Simon said gently. “You’re freezing.”
“I’m fine.”
Simon frowned. “You’re not.”
He hesitated, then reached for the blanket from the couch. It was moth-eaten, thin, but better than nothing. He draped it over me carefully, the way you’d tuck in someone you didn’t want to wake.
His fingers brushed my neck for half a second, and the touch burned hotter than the fire.
“Don’t,” I murmured.
“I’m not feeding,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t say you were.”
But he heard what I didn’t say . That I wasn’t used to this kind of touch. Not from someone I should want dead. Simon sat back down beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost brushed.
For a while, we just sat there. The fire cracked. Wind pressed against the windows. Somewhere outside, something howled.
Simon spoke first. “Will they come looking? The Guild.”
“Maybe.” My voice came out flat. “Maybe not. This mission was supposed to be a joke.”
“What do you mean?” Simon asked.
“I’m a washed-up hunter, Simon. All I do lately is screw up after…” I stopped myself.
I didn’t want to get into the details, yet part of me wanted to tell him about Donovan and Declan. Simon could’ve hidden the fact that his sire was creating monsters, experiments, but he’d been honest with me.
