Page 38 of She Who Was Once the Sea

I raised an eyebrow. Why would Lucas be stealing a book?

But he didn’t offer an explanation, and I didn’t push further. He’d been searching much longer than I had. Perhaps he’d stumbled across a lead he wasn’t yet ready to share.

As we exited the library, he nodded at me, and then we walked away in opposite directions. When I turned to look over my shoulder, he had already disappeared into the crowd.

Marella was pacing in the living room when I walked through the door. I had rung the buzzer, but when she didn’t respond, I’d chosen to use my spare key to enter the apartment anyway. When I opened the door, she barely glanced in my direction.

"Are you okay?" I asked as I slipped inside.

She shook her head. "I’ll be fine."

But her brow was furrowed, and her hair looked as though she’d spent hours running her fingers through its strands.

"I think I need your help."

Immediately, she stopped, head snapping towards me, eyes intense and so focused on my face that it nearly made me squirm.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"Nothing," I answered quickly, raising my hands to try to placate her. "I’m… thirsty."

It was an understatement, if I was being honest. I wasn’t just thirsty. I felt as though my throat was made of sand. I needed something to sate the feeling, and fast.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she just shrugged. "So go get something to drink."

"You know I can’t just do that."

Her stare was withering. "I can’t keep giving you my blood freely, Garrett. At some point, one of us has to go elsewhere for sustenance."

I bit my lip, wiping at the unexpected sting; I’d forgotten how sharp my new teeth were for a moment.

"I can’t kill someone," I whispered.

"Okay." She walked towards me slowly, until we were just a few inches apart. I could smell her breath as she spoke. "Then let me kill someone, and then you can drink from me. But I can’t give you any more of my blood until I’ve replenished myself. I can’t pour from an empty cup."

Almost reflexively, I let my hand travel up to touch my throat. I was painfully aware of my need to drink something. She said nothing, staring at me patiently, waiting for permission.

When I finally nodded my consent, she turned on her heel and walked towards the door.

"Do you think you can wait an hour?" she asked, bending over to pull on her shoes. She’d clearly raided the guest closet in the apartment, and the black pants she wore did little to hide the shape of her backside as she tied up the laces. I felt heat crawl into my throat that had nothing to do with my need for blood.

I coughed. "Shouldn’t I come with you?"

"Why?"

I didn’t have an answer. My mouth opened and closed like a fish, but I couldn’t think of an explanation.

"You’re welcome to come with me if you want," she said, straightening once more. I wasn’t able to move my eyes from her lower half quickly enough, and she definitely caught me staring as she turned. Her green eyes danced mischievously. "You’ll have to watch me kill someone if you do, though."

What little blood there was in my body emptied downward, and my face pulled into a deep frown.

She laughed, tossing her head back. "I thought so." Then, she was reaching out towards me, her long, firm fingers brushing my cheek gently before cupping my face. "You wait here, my delicate little Fratello." Her tone belied sarcasm, but beneath the surface was more sincerity than I expected. "I’ll go take care of this little problem, and then I’ll come back and give you whatever you need."

She spoke the last words low and slow, allowing the implication to hang heavy in the air between us. And despite how hard I’d tried to push it away, the memory of her standing in this room, naked and welcoming before me, crawled its way to the forefront of my mind.

And she knew it.

With one final pat on my cheek, she turned once more and walked towards the door.