I take his hand in mine. “And he was your dad.”
Tears start to brim. “Yeah. He was my dad. And there’s part of me that can’t help thinking… A dumb,childishpart… It’s why I didn’t…” He grits his teeth.
“I would have done the same thing.” Which is true—ifI had family who loved me—and I try to say what I’d want to hear right now. “Nobody knows magic like Ms. Stryker. If there is any way to cure him, to bring him back, she’ll have the answer. Why don’t you come with me? She’ll want to meet you, anyway.”
The faintest bit of light fills his expression. “You really think it could be possible? To bring him back?”
“I don’t know,” I say, feeling helpless.
The reality is probably not. I can’t say exactly how vampirism works, but the population is supposedly growing worldwide. I’m pretty sure that wizard council Stryker is part of would be busy spreading a cure, if there was one.
Still, this courageous, surprisingly sweet man is hurting, and based on what his undead dad said, I get the impression that, like me, Rafa doesn’t really have other friends. I want to provide him some hope; that’s why I put meeting Stryker out there. In the end, though, there’s really only one thing I have to give.
“Look, whatever the answer is, Rafa, whatever you have to do, all I can promise is that you won’t have to do it alone. No matter what, we’ll figure it out together, okay?”
He brings his chin up and snuffles in a quick, ragged breath, but the tears still spill out. He turns to me and squeezes my hand tight.
“Jesus,” he says. “Why do you have to be so fucking amazing?”
Me? Amazing? Hardly. And he should know that, based on what we’ve just gone through, but now obviously isn’t the time to tell him how wrong he is.
It’s probably also not the time to push him away as he leans in and brings his face up to mine.
Our eyes lock, and I see this need in him. The need to connect, to forget everything, to have something good. Right now, I guess that’s another thing I can really get.
He’s so close, his shuddering breath is on my lips. One second, two seconds… I don’t have to have any experience to know where this might go. He’s holding himself back, waiting on me.
I glance over at Collin, who’s leaning against my desk, gazing back with a gentle smile. Not encouraging me. But notnotencouraging me.
And when I return to Rafa, he’s just where I left him. Inches away. And even with tears in his eyes, he really is so freaking handsome. Dark, expressive eyebrows. Flecks of amber in his irises. And those lips, so full… so damn kissable.
I get this is super messed-up. I’d totally be taking advantage. We’ve got much bigger fish to fry. And an incubus starting something with a Monster Hunterofficially qualifies as suicidal. Me not immediately putting a stop to this is so insane I check in with my monster to see if it’s somehow driving my actions, but it’s as quiet as the Obligation has been.
(Who knows why? Maybe both are just giving me the space I need to tie my own noose.)
Nothing’s putting any kind of whammy on my brain. Looks like Collin will be cool, either way. Whatever I choose to do, it’s all on me.
So whatdoI want? I want out of my head. I want to disappear completely. I want to feelsomethingthat’s not pain or self-hatred, if only for just a few merciful moments!
I lean forward, only a fraction of an inch—and that’s all it takes.
His large hand cups the base of my skull and his mouth hungrily claims mine. And I kiss him back, all the pent-up emotion, the boiling anger at myself, driving me forward. It fuels a need for release. For oblivion.
Rafa’s kisses are different than Collin’s. There’s stubble, and it rubs my chin and the skin above my lip raw. The making out is a lot rougher, wetter, moreurgent. Even his jaw muscles feel strong. They work under my fingertips as I cradle his face. As I want more.
I kiss back just as forcefully. I can’t get enough of his sweet, faintly minty taste, the pricking sandpaper of his skin. My teeth scrape at his lips, and I suck him in. He chokes out a high-pitched, constricted grunt. Then another. This big man is whimpering because of what I’m doing to him.
It makes me feel powerful. In control. Maybe hestarted it, but now I’m the one driving this. I’m the one who gets to decide how far this goes.
It’s hot. Intense. Exciting.
It feelsgood.
But I don’t deserve this power. My monster might be hanging back now, but it will come for sure if I don’t stop. And I’ve beenlyingto this guy. Lying to him about what I am. About what I could do to him. Even lying to him about what Collin is. He deserves better, especially after what he’s just been through.
It doesn’t matter what I think I want, because he deserves better than me.
The words are out before I even think about them:
