It stung, for a moment. “I can train harder. You said yourself it’s possible, if you get a blade going fast enough?—”
“I risked you once, Leila. Never again.” Another touch of purr to the words, vibrating in the cathedral of his chest. When it faded, his heartbeat continued, strong and sure.
“I don’t like you going out alone.”There. That’s a lot of it, too.
He was silent for a short while. It smelled like rain, as almost always; the mix of car exhaust, concrete, and the persistent noteof fresh-brewed coffee permeating this city was beginning to be familiar. His heart spoke in her ear, and on the other side lingered traffic-noise, a faraway burst of sirens as some accident was discovered, and the drowsy murmur of urban crowding. Between the two was a small, safe cradle.
Sometimes it pinched. Not like a collar, thank God; finding out how those had been made, what they were intended for, was horrific.
“I do not like it either,” he said, finally. “And witnessing my hunting to feed may unnerve you.”
“I guess that it might.”I don’t ask where you get the blood from. He was pretty definitive thathedidn’t drink to kill nowadays, and she left it at that. Compromise was necessary in any squad, even with only two members. “But will you at least?—”
“I will consider the idea most carefully, Leila-my-rose.”
That’s a new one.She was going to have to think of some cute little nicknames for him, too. “Good.”
“But Iwill not risk you.”
“Fine.”I guess there’s time. If she had to be a biter, she wanted to be the least-objectionable kind. Keeping an eye on the forums and message boards was a lot more thought-provoking now that she had a source right next to her at the keyboard.
And one day, after she’d learned enough, she might strike out on her own. The thought tiptoed around in her head at intervals, a cautious guest.
Layla pushed herself up to sit, almost regretfully. Max followed suit, glancing briefly over the vista. Not because the city was beautiful—though it unquestionably was—but checking the terrain, alert to danger. The constant awareness was sometimes exhausting to witness.
So she poked his ribs, gently, almost like tickling a statue. “Let’s do something fun. I’ll race you home. And—” She forestalled any incipient objection with another lingering touch,before bouncing to her feet. She liked the local fashion of jersey knit dresses and leggings, especially since she could now afford good boots. Not to mention an actualhouse. Learning how to get funding the vampire way was another item on her list. “If you can catch me before the stop sign at the top of our hill, I’ll give you a reward.”
It was a short run, after all. For sanguinant.
Max rose, and set about refolding the blankets with swift, exact care. “What reward?”
“How about a shower?” If she could keep him from ripping this particular outfit to shreds, it would be a miracle. “But you’ll have to be careful, and not tear all my clothes apart. I’ll wash your back.”
The tree sighed, combed by a freshening wave full of green scent. He frowned slightly, tucking the wad of blankets under one arm, and regarded her, eyes gleaming almost hopefully. “I prefer baths.”
“I know you do, but it’smychoice of reward.” The fidgets had returned, as usual; she had to move, soon.
Of course he liked to chase, and nowadays she didn’t precisely mind being caught. They would be lucky to make it to the shower, though he would make sure the seals were set the moment she was inside.
The day she learned how to do that… well, they’d see. Layla shifted her weight, testing her bootsoles’ grip.
He had gone still again, unblinking, focused entirely on her. “Ave, Imperatrix.”
“English, Max.” She was, Layla realized, grinning like an absolute fool.
Which was all right, because so was he. “I am yours, my nymph. You’d best start running.”
