“Justice’s mom was killed by one of them.”
He nods. “Yeah. Forest told me.”
I take a step closer to him, not really sure what to say.
“How’s your mom?” he asks.
I suck in a breath. I’d completely forgotten about her after finding Jericho’s sketchbook. “She’s good. Relieved and a little terrified that I found you,” I admit, “but good. Busy with work as usual.”
He tilts his head, confused. “Terrified?”
“I told her you were turned.”
He flinches, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks away.
Uncertainty slams into me. Did I risk something by telling her?
When Jericho starts to walk away, I reach for him, panicked that I somehow fucked up. “Jer.”
He turns to me, but I struggle to find the right words. “We’re okay, right?”
His expression softens. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. You just seem… tense all the sudden. Like I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine, Ev. I don’t care that you told her. Just wish you didn’t have to. I wish none of this had happened at all.”
He walks away before I can reply.
I stare after him, completely deflated. I had no idea a vampire could feel so ashamed of his existence, yet Jericho does. He hates what he is. A part of me gets it, I hate thinking about how he became one. But now, as a vampire? Jericho is even more incredible.
I need to help him see that before I lose him.
11
JERICHO
Evan and I spend the rest of the day with the shifters, trying to get to know them and learning about other packs in the area. Shortly after we—or rather, Evan—eats dinner with them, we retreat to the van to have some privacy. I’m surprised he still wants to, considering Jasmine offered him a room. Wouldn’t he rather have his own space?
We stay up late talking, and when he finally dozes off, I lay still beside him for a few hours, trying to do the same. But there’s no way I can sleep with everything going on, or with his addictive scent so close to me. It’s taking everything in me not to pull him close and bury my nose in his hair.
As carefully as I can, I climb over him to grab my sketchbook from the shelf. When I turn around, I nearly laugh. In the two seconds it took me to get up, Evan sprawled on his back taking up the entire mattress.
I consider nudging his legs to give myself at least one corner to sit, but he looks so peaceful. So calm. For the first time, he looks safe. Like none of the dangers can possibly touch him.
And he needs rest. I really should leave him.
I reach for my hoodie on the clothes pile and, as quietly as possible, open the door to make my exit.
Evan jerks awake, blinking hard to gauge his surroundings. When he sees me by the door, he frowns. “Where’re you going?”
“Just outside to draw for a bit. Go back to sleep.”
He glances out the window like he expects trouble.
“Everything’s fine, I promise. I just can’t sleep is all.”
He notices the notebook in my hand, then darts his eyes to the corner of the bed, as if looking for something. His expression shifts to one I’ve never seen before, but before I can analyze it, it disappears and he drops his head to the pillow.
