Logan stared at Elena for a minute before reluctantly nodding. “Okay, but I won’t be gone long.”
He rose from the side of Asher’s bed and crept over to Elena’s bed. Leaning over, he examined the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her dark hair hid most of her face, and he almost brushed it aside but stopped himself before he could. She wouldn’t like him touching her if she was awake; he wouldn’t do it while she was asleep.
Elena continued to fake sleep as the door opened and closed. She didn’t know why she’d pretended to sleep, but it was better than talking to Logan again. She had to get everything sorted out in her head before she got into another conversation with him.
The only problem was, she had no idea where her head was right now. Her father was dead; the hunters she’d grown up with were some of the suspects, as were the men sharing this room with her. Not to mention, her mom was still at the compound with some of those suspects.
She leaned toward these two being innocent, but she wasn’t sure she was with it enough right now to be a good judge of character.
It annoyed her that the instincts she’d honed over the years were something she couldn’t rely on right now, but Elena wasn’t making any decisions about anything until she felt more stable. She hoped that didn’t take too long.
Asher shifted around on his bed before his blankets pulled back with a rustle. When he shuffled toward the bathroom door, she listened to it click shut and waited until the shower turned on before glancing over her shoulder.
For a second, she contemplated throwing back the blankets, jumping out of bed, and fleeing the room, but what good would that do her?
She wasn’t a prisoner here, or at least that’s what Logan said. And what kind of captors left a prisoner alone in a room when they could go without a problem?
And where would she go, back to the compound? She had to find out about her mom, but she dreaded going back to the place that was most likely harboring murderers.
But was she supposed to stay here, with a vampire? One who had just left to hunt. She shuddered at the reminder. Right now, Logan was hunting humans and drinking their blood.
But he doesn’t kill them.
Did that make it any better? He was taking their blood without their permission.
And then she realized what a stupid thought that was to have. Of course, it was better to have your blood unknowingly taken from you than to die. She didn’t want a vampire to drink her blood, but she would prefer to be alive afterward if it did happen.
When the water turned off, Elena contemplated faking sleep again, but she’d never been one to hide from others; and no matter the traumatic events of yesterday, she wasn’t about to start now.
Sitting up on the bed, she winced when the motion caused a small twinge to her leg. When she inspected the injury, she discovered that all of the swelling was gone, and it looked a lot better.
She settled the blanket around her and waited until the hunter emerged from the bathroom. When the door opened, a cloud of steam wafted out of the room, and the hunter strode out from it.
Their eyes met, and he stopped walking as his handsome face split into a grin. Still wet from his shower, the hunter’s sandy blond hair stood up at odd angles all around his face.
He’s not as handsome as Logan.
She had no idea where the thought came from, but as soon as it crossed her mind, she shoved it aside. Her father just died; she was supposed to be mourning him and not noticing how handsomevampires, of all things, were.
“Logan went out a little bit ago,” Asher said.
“Where did he go?” she asked.
She knew the answer, but she was trying to see if he would tell her the truth.
He hesitated before replying, “Between his injuries and the blood he gave to save us, he needed to feed.”
Points to the hunter, Elena thought.
“I see,” she said.
“Logan will hunt animals if he can find them, but if he has to feed on a human, he won’t kill them.”
“Will he hurt them?”
“No. The vampires we work with don’t hurt humans and take no pleasure in doing so. Only Savages do that.”
“I see,” Elena murmured. “Did you kill my father?”
