Kohl tried to see it from her eyes. “Not quite that high tech, but it’ll do.”
The finished basement had none of the old world charm of the restaurant above. But what it did have was concrete and steel enforced walls, bulletproof doors, a simple but functional kitchen and bath area, and a bedroom with a closet that hid an escape tunnel out the back. No one could get in without the key, and in the case of something happening, any ruckus heard upstairs would give them time to get out through the closet, the escape tunnel would self-destruct, and they wouldn’t be able to be followed. “It’s safe down here. Jaz won’t be able to sense you through these walls. And even if he did, we have a way to get out through the bedroom. But, the sun will be coming up soon. We’ll be safe enough for the day.”
She turned to him, her face carefully blank. “What about Margaret and her family upstairs?”
Kohl only paused for a brief moment. “They know the risk they take by allowing us to use this place.”
Devon stared at him for a minute. There was no accusation in her eyes, but he could feel her judgment. It radiated from her like a blast of cold air. “They know the risk,” he insisted. “They chose to do this. As a matter of fact, they offered. We didn’t ask. And if anything bad goes down, of course I will do everything within my power to help them.” That last part was completely true, but not at the risk of Devon’s life.
She nodded and wandered into the kitchen to heat up her food.
He motioned toward the bedroom with his head. “When you finish eating, we’ll go take care of your neck.”
She obediently nodded.
Kohl poured some red wine, knowing they both could use it, and kept her company while she ate, neither of them saying much. Many times, he felt the heat of her stare on his chest, neck and arms, and he waited for her to ask about his ink. But she never did.
When she was finished, he took her glass and his and left them on the counter. “In the bathroom,” he told her.
She found the room, went in, and flicked on the light switch. Faced with her image in the large mirror over the sink, she frowned. Leaning in, she touched the wound. “Good God. That looks deep. I’m glad this doesn’t feel as bad as it looks.”
“It’s a vampire thing. It numbs the pain. Makes our victims want it so it’s easier for us to feed.” Pulling her away from the mirror, he turned her around and indicated the side of the tub. “Sit. Please.”
She sat.
He’d purposely left the bathroom door open, hoping it would help ventilate the room, but in this small space, the scent of her blood was like a thick fog he couldn’t breathe through. Kohl took shallow breaths through his mouth, and saw Devon’s eyes flick over his fangs and then down to his bare chest and arms. That so didn’t help. “I’m going to try to clean it out as much as I can, okay?”
“Okay.”
She sounded nervous. “It might hurt a little bit, Dev. And I’m sorry. But I don’t want it getting infected.” He was lying. It wouldn’t get infected. He just couldn’t stand the thought of any of anyone else’s DNA lingering inside her. “I’ll try to be as careful as I can.”
She nodded, watching him with big, brown eyes. But her mouth was set in a determined line, as though she knew what he was about and was in agreement. “Go ahead. Do what you need to do.”
He got the supplies he needed from the small closet and wet a cloth with warm water. Kneeling in front of her, he paused just before it touched her skin. He searched her face, hoping she would see he truly meant what he was about to say. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”
A sad smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I know.”
Her sorrow washed over him, heightening his own. Carefully, he washed around the outside of the wound, but she didn’t so much as flinch, even when he knew it had to hurt.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
Lost in thought about what to do about Jaz, he glanced up at her face, but she was studying the wall above the toilet. “Does what hurt?”
“When you shift into the dragon.”
Ah. That. “Yeah. It hurts.”
Real concern creased her brow as she turned her head to look at him. “I’m sorry.”
Taking her chin in his hand, he turned her face away again and continued washing the vampire bite. “I’m used to it.”
She was quiet for a few seconds. “What does your tattoo mean? Unscarred.”
He rinsed out the cloth. “It means I don’t let anything stick to me.”
“You don’t let things hurt you, you mean.”
“It hurts. I just don’t let it fuck with me. I don’t let it change me.” Holding the wound open with the fingers of his other hand, he forced some of the cloth inside.
