“I’m sorry it took so long.” I held out another blood pouch. “Gisila is dead—it’s a long story, but when the Department couldn’t find you, I called a slayer stake, and itstilltook us a while to find you.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He removed his forehead from mine so he could take the pouch. He punctured it with a fang tooth before sucking at it like a juice box. He adjustedhis hold on me, scooping me as close as possible and resting his cheek on the top of my head, inhaling deeply.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, a sob catching in my throat.
Stop it, I tried to tell myself.He was the one buried. I have no right to cry.
Despite the mental scolding, hot tears stung my eyes.
“Don’t be. You were quite fast considering I was buried. And from the look of you, you half killed yourself with overwork to track me.” The roughness to his voice was wearing off, but his usual refined tone wasn’t surfacing.
It must have been torturous.
I mashed my eyes shut, and Considine—holding me with one arm since he was still working on his blood pouch—squeezed me.
This broke my already weak resolve. I sniffed as tears escaped my eyes, dripping down my cheeks and leaving a hot, wet trail behind.
He’s safe. We have him back.
Considine tensed again and pulled back enough so he could look down at me. “Jade—it’s okay, Jade. I’m fine.” He transferred the blood pouch to the hand that had me pinned against his chest so he could wipe away my tears. “You’re amazing. You found me. You have no reason to feel guilty—Gisila did this to me. You beat her—a crafty dragon shifter—in her own mind game.”
“Y-you shouldn’t have to be worrying about me,” I said, my voice shaky and my tears still coming despite my best efforts. “You were the one who was imprisoned.”
“Yes, and I’m fine, because I knew you would find me. That was how I got through it—I knew you would never give up.” He brushed my newest round of tears away with his thumb, and a soft smile settled on his lips. “And I’m happy to reassure you—it is myhonorto reassure you, because we’re partners, and you aremy world. If given the chance, I would do it again, because your safety is my priority.”
The pangs of guilt eased because I believed him. But my heart still spasmed in my chest.
Words burned in my mouth—all the things I’d wanted to say to him, emotions I couldn’t even recognize except to say they felt big and they were for Considine.
I couldn’t seem to spit them out, so instead I stood there in Considine’s arms and blinked, my wet eyelashes sticking to my skin.
Considine studied me for a moment, and when I didn’t cry any more he reclaimed his blood pouch and drank some more.
He watched me carefully until he drained it. He crumpled the emptied blood pack and tossed it aside. I offered him my second pouch.
He took it but was slower to puncture it. He was slower to suck it down, too. Less desperate.
I tried to step back, but the arm he had tucked around my waist tightened, holding me close.
He needs the contact, I realized.
Intent on giving him whatever he needed, I settled closer, tucking myself against his shoulder so I could look up at him and still have a good view of the factory and the ongoing fight.
The brief tenseness I’d felt in Considine’s body melted, and he finally looked around. “Your O’Neil family is considerably larger than I imagined, and very multicultural. I see you have apparently adopted one sour faced fae?” He stared at Orrin, who bowed to him, the O’Neil crest velcroed to his task force uniform predominantly displayed.
I laughed. “No—I called a slayer stake. The O’Neil crest was supposed to be a signal to you that they’re all friendly, despite being slayers.”
“Hmm.” Considine drank a little more of the blood pouch as he continued his inspection.
The slayers, to their credit, focused on fighting the guards instead of watching the elder vampire in their presence.
My family took turns stealing glances at us. Dad was puffed up like a cat ready to attack, and Jasper wasn’t involved in the fight but had been watching our reunion. He must have been satisfied, though, because when I met his gaze he nodded, turned his back to us, and reentered the battle.
When Considine finished his scan of our surroundings, he looked down at me. “I really want to kiss you, but I get the feeling you wouldn’t enjoy a blood-breath kiss.”
“It wouldn’t be very hygienic for me,” I acknowledged.
“If I may. This is one of Grove’s potions.” Orrin approached us, holding out a bottle with a lightly tinged, cream-colored potion. “For you, Elder Maledictus. It will be a serviceable mouthwash.”
