“No, I—”
“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit. I bet you’d give anything to go with Blake tomorrow.”
Ian smirked, unable to stop himself. “It’d be interesting, that’s for sure.”
Cate shook her head. “Unbelievable. The pair of you.”
Maybe she had a point, butfucking vampires!
How could he not find it all a little bit fascinating?
Blake finally dragged her out the door, and Ian locked it behind them, leaning against it as he took a moment to process the evening. He hadn’t asked nearly enough questions, and new ones kept popping up the more he thought about things. Maybe he should write them down so he didn’t forget. And he should probably limit himself with how many he asked, or Blake would soon get pissed off with him.
But fuck me.
Blake was going to a vampire coven tomorrow night.
Ian had never been more jealous in his whole life.
AS HE SETTLED into bed later, still buzzing from everything Blake had told them, his phone chimed with a text message, startling him.
Blake’s name flashed up on the screen.
Talk of the devil.
Left my bloody jacket at yours. My wallet’s in it. Any chance I can pick it up in the morning? What time do you leave for work?
You’re in luck, he typed back.Working from home tomorrow morning. Pop round any time before 12.
Great. See you tomorrow.
Setting his alarm for seven instead of six, Ian put his phone on the bedside table and closed his eyes.
As he drifted off, his mind filled with shadows lurking about the city and fangs flashing in the moonlight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jesse sat on his window ledge, staring out at the dull sky. Thick clouds replaced the blue, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. The overcast sky made the coven’s surrounding lands look bleak, matching his mood perfectly.
Not for the first time in the last few days, he had his phone in hand, a message to Ian open on the screen. It was blank. He knew he couldn’t tell him anything more, couldn’t take it back either, but the temptation to contact him was strong. Strong enough that he got as far as opening up Messenger before stopping himself.
Leaning his head against the glass, he closed his eyes, remembering the way Ian had looked the morning he left—beautiful, tempting, breakable. He’d done the right thing, theonlything.
But why does it hurt?
He rubbed absently over his chest where his heart should beat but no longer did. It ached, though. That space tucked behind his ribs felt hollow, which was ridiculous considering he’d only seen Ian twice.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
His door creaked as someone opened it.
Jesse started to smile, assuming it was Lys, but then he caught an unwelcome scent and a hiss bubbled out of him. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Charming.” Peter’s soft footsteps sounded behind as he crossed the room towards Jesse. “What’s got you in such a foul mood?”
“Nothing.” Jesse didn’t look away from the window. “And why didn’t you knock?”
Although the rooms were soundproofed, their hearing usually picked up someone knocking on the door. Those with manners anyway.
