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I PRESSED UP AGAINSTKilter’s side, my finger tracing the ink on his abdomen while he absently stroked my back. I was naked, so was he, and after the first time, we did it again, except this time I rode him while he held my hips.
Watching his face when he came, God that made me come so hard that I screamed—loud. To which he laughed after he finished coming because everyone in the house had to have heard me. And Kilter, being Kilter, didn’t give a shit if they did. Actually, I think he liked it. I didn’t. I was mortified.
That was a half hour ago and we were still lying in bed, slow caresses, Kilter leaning in to me and kissing me soft and sweet. It was nice. I hadn’t had nice before Kilter.
His hand stopped stroking my back and the pillow rustled as he tilted his head to look down at me tucked in to his side. “We need to talk.”
Okay, that was serious. “About?”
“A meeting’s been called.”
I didn’t particularly like the sound of that. “A meeting? With who?”
“Everyone.”
“Umm, okay.” Did that include me?
“Yeah, babe. It includes you. Not happy about it, but a vampire attacked you and we need to find out why.”
I had no idea why. It wasn’t like the vampires had a use for me, except for my blood, which was the same as any other person. My ability had no benefit to them even if they knew about it.
“Waleron wants to know everything about you.” My heart leapt because I knew he was referring to the compound, and it wasn’t something I liked to talk about. “How long have you known you could steal people’s emotions and replace them like that?”
I stiffened and turned over so I lay on my back, then pulled the sheet up over my breasts. Better to talk covered, less vulnerable. Kilter rolled to his side so he faced me and yanked the sheet down, cupping my breast, his thumb barely grazing my erect nipple.
I closed my eyes as desire flared.
“Tell me,” he urged. His thumb stopped moving and I glanced up at him. He smirked. God, I loved his smirk.
“My parents knew about my abilities and explained them to me when I was about four or five. But I didn’t understand them—and I don’t think they did either.”
“Were you adopted?” he said.
I frowned. There was that possibility, but they hadn’t told me that. “I don’t know.”
“They couldn’t have been Scars. Otherwise, we’d have known about you. But they knew about your ability. That doesn’t make sense.”
“I was too young to make sense of anything. I remember the first time I used my ability. My mother had been crying over a patient dying at work. I crawled into her lap and hugged her. My ability happened naturally. All I wanted was for her to stop being sad, so I took it away.”
Kilter’s fingers trailed down my abdomen to my side where he settled his hand on my hip.
“She was scared at what I’d done. So, you’re right, my parents weren’t Scars. But they also knew about my tattoo.”
“Your Ink? On your shoulder.”
I nodded. “They told me to never talk to it. I didn’t understand at the time, until my parents died and I was with Anton. I was so scared and alone, spent most of my time in a room alone. That’s when I began talking to it. Serafina—that’s what I call her—or did.” I looked away from him, my fingers curling in the sheet. “I lost most of my abilities and Serafina when I was a teenager.”
“Weight loss?” Kilter asked.
I nodded. “I was trying to hide my abilities from Anton. I hated it when he made me use them. For hours he’d put me in this laboratory hooked up to all these machines. I wasn’t allowed to leave until I did as he asked. Move objects. Tell him what emotion he was feeling again and again. I hated it so much that I’d have done anything to stop it. When I was twelve, before I lost weight and still had my abilities, I tried to leave.”
“How?”
I hesitated.
“Baby, no matter what you did, I will never turn my back on you.” He leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn’t all consuming, but it was sweet and trusting, and I loved that part of Kilter, too.
“I can go further than what I did with you and my mom. I can take more than just emotions.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. “I can take life.”
