Louie and I curl up on the couch under a mountain of blankets, snacking on popcorn and sipping on seltzer water. The hound has about a thousand questions while we watch the film, which I happily entertain.
When the movie ends, I’m surprised by how much better I feel. Even that stupid thread doesn’t seem as angry as it did a few hours ago.
Louie yawns, so I send her up to bed, wrapping her in a big hug before she goes upstairs.
As I fold our blankets, the detection chime on the security system goes off, alerting me that someone—or something—is at the front door.
Louie charges downstairs, fire poker raised high, the hellhound under her mortal skin snarling through. Even in her tiny human form, she looks ready to commit murder.
I sneak past the front door toward the control panel and pull up the security camera.
Who the fuck is that? My heart lurches as I squint at the screen, trying to process the blood-soaked man on Ezra’s doorstep. His head rests in one hand, while the other is bound to his body in a makeshift sling.
Is that blood soaking through his clothes?
“Looks like the miserable old twat survived,” Louie says around a yawn. She leans her half-assed weapon against the steps and unceremoniously goes back to bed.
With my heart in my throat, I run to the front door and rip it open. Ezra turns his head when he hears the security door beep, and my breath hitches. He has a violently swollen eye anda split lip. His perfect nose appears broken, his jaw looks slightly askew, and blood drips from the arm bound to his waist.
“Ezra!” I cry, rushing toward him.
As soon as I touch him, something shifts. A shimmer ripples through the dark, the way heat warps blacktop in the summer.
His shadows stir, reaching for me in slow, sinuous curls, wrapping around my wrists to prove I’m not a dream.
One of them trembles violently before disappearing into the dark.
The others don’t follow. They stay. Clutching at me. Afraid I’ll slip through their grasp.
Ezra wraps his uninjured arm around me, hissing in pain.
“Shit, I’m so sorry! What happened? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
Panic creeps up my spine, dragging dread behind it.
He’s so messed up. I don’t even know how he made it home.
“Little lupine,” he whispers, voice rough and strained as he gently strokes my cheek with a trembling, blood-stained thumb.
I lean into his touch, trying not to shake. But as I study his face, a fresh patch of blood, sticky and caked along his chin, catches my eye.
Did he feed recently?
“I made it back to you, as promised.” He leans in, then grazes his lips softly against mine. Being this close to him again makes me shiver. Even battered and bruised, he’s fucking gorgeous. Maybe even more so.
“I’m so glad you’re home. What do you need?”
“All is well, Aurora,” he wheezes. “A minor scuffle with my sister. She was … fast … but she allowed her anger to eclipse her strategy. Don’t worry, I left her and the vampire alive and well.”
I stare at him blankly. Right, because keeping them alive was definitely my top concern.
Ezra hangs his head between his knees, struggling to catch his breath.
Still hunched, he mutters, “Can you help me inside? I need to clean up and check my wounds. I was lucky enough to stumble across a human I could feed on just before I arrived. That should help me heal faster.”
“O-okay,” I whisper, my hands trembling as I ease his uninjured arm around my shoulder.
When we walk through the front door, I call Louie for help. She stomps down the stairs, mumbling all the way. But when she sees Ezra, her eyes go wide.
