Page 17 of Rafe

“You must take pleasure in this life. Savor it. And so, I have many, many favorite things. And one of them is bagels.”

“We’re in New Orleans,” Rafe grumbled.

“There’s a new bagel place on Bienville. Owners are from New York. This,” he held his bagel in the air, “is a masterpiece.”

Rafe sighed as he watched the vampire bite into the bagel. Greyson chewed and swallowed, shaking his head. “What is wrong with you? Hey, where’s the girl?”

“You were out all night,” Rafe deflected answering.

Greyson smiled and waggled his eyebrows. “Yes, I was. Now where’s the girl?”

“The woman has a name. Skylar.”

Greyson took another bite of his bagel and groaned. “Hmm. So good?”

“Something’s wrong.” Rafe’s expression fell flat.

“What do you mean? How much easier can it be? Your food came to you. It’s like delivery.” He laughed.

“She’s not food,” Rafe snapped.

Greyson raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s not you. It’s me.”

“Ya think?”

“Wolves only mate with wolves,” Rafe told him.

“Yeah, so? Is this some kind of a lesson because I’ve been around way longer than you.”

“I’m feelin’ some kind of way about her. It’s not normal. Fuck.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t think she knows I’m a wolf.”

“Seemed that way last night. But this is New Orleans. If she lives here? Which, apparently, she does. Let’s just say most humans wouldn’t be surprised to meet a vampire. Which you are.”

“No, no, no. There’s something going on. I’m…” He shook his head. “I don’t just want to feed from her.”

Greyson’s expression turned serious, his gaze set on Rafe.

“I want to consume her,” Rafe confessed.

“The heart wants what the heart wants, but that doesn’t mean it gets it. Just ask Ilsbeth.” The vampire smirked. “You need to get laid. Forget her.”

“She’s leaving anyway. Going to L.A.”

“There you go. Problem solved. Which is a good thing because there’s something we’ve got to take care of.”

“No. Dude. Don’t you get what I’m sayin’? This girl…she⁠—”

“Forget about it.” Greyson changed the subject. “I got a call from Kade. There’s a situation. We need to go to Vegas.”

“Greyson. This is serious. I think I might have to ask Ils⁠—”

“Nope!” Greyson held up a finger. “Do not say her name.”

“Ilsbeth said she could help.”

“I’m not talking any more about her.” Greyson smiled and stood. “We’re expecting company.”