Page 29 of Blood Lovers

I should take that advice. I really should. But… I shake my head and accept the call.

“Where are you?”

“Miami.”

“Did you find her?”

“Don’t you think I would call you if I found her?”

He doesn’t say anything. And this is how all his calls go since the girl got away and the feeder died. I get that he’s the boss. I even sorta maybe respect that a little bit. He is… Paul, after all.

But I’m tired of this bullshit. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“You should just come home.”

And there it is.

I’ve been waiting for him to finally say this because while he does want the girl, he’s not in a hurry for her. It would be nice to find her immediately, but he’s immortal. Who gives a fuck? What he really wants is me, at home, with him. But his place is not my home. Not even close.

He could order me. He could make me go to his compound. But he won’t. He doesn’t want to force me into things. He’s been saying this on repeat since I was second-born.

“I’m close, Paul.”

“You’re not.”

“How would you know?”

He sighs. But he’s got an answer. Maybe I’m no Josep or Lucia, but I know Paul. I know him very well. And that sigh is a tell that he’s holding back.

“What?” I’m snappish and I hate that. I hate losing control, even if it’s just a little bit of heat in my tone.

“I haven’t told you about them yet.”

“About who?”

“The Guild.”

I close my eyes, press my lips together to shut myself up, and nod my head, trying to breathe deeply. Even though he can’t see me, he can see me. He knows me just as well as I know him. “There’s a Guild?” I say these words through clenched teeth. “Why am I just hearing about this?”

“It’s all very need-to-know. And I wasn’t sure that you needed to know.”

“But now you are?”

“I am.”

“Can you… enlighten me on how you know this Guild is involved?”

“Come home and I’ll tell you the whole story.”

“No.” He knows I’m not going there. I’m never going there unless he forces me. “So tell me now, or forget it. I don’t care.”

“You really don’t care, do you?”

And now we’re back to this. He fights with me like we’re lovers, and we’re not. I drink him. This is all there is to us. Food. He is my food.

Why can’t he just… find someone else to bother with his fucking feelings?

“Do you know what that witch told me?”