“So that’s how it’s gonna be, Cupcake?” Asher turned his playful blue gaze on me. “You haven’t seen the rest of us in days, and suddenly you’ve only got eyes for the bloodsucker?”
“He’s the only one who’s naked,” I said matter-of-factly.
Asher grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, lifting it to give me a mouthwatering peek. “We can fix that right now.”
The briefest glimpse of his tattooed, rock-hard abs had me damn near drooling.
But Darius grabbed Asher’s wrist, stopping the show just before it got good. “She needs to eat, and then I’m taking her for a shower. So whatever thoughts are tumbling through that lecherous mind of yours, incubus, put them on ice.”
“A shower, huh?” Asher rubbed his jaw, slowly approaching my bedside as Darius ducked into the bathroom to wash up. “Better give her an extra shot of hawthorn this time. Girl’s got quite an arm on her.”
The teasing smile hadn’t left his face since he’d first walked in, and now I returned it with one of my own.
“Consider it payback for the time you took me down at the safe house,” I said.
“That was for your own good. And anyway, you’re way stronger than me now.” Asher swept the curls from my forehead and pressed a kiss between my brows, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of happiness and that seductive, bad-boy edge he’d never quite lost. “You feeling a little less psychotic now, bruiser?”
“Why don’t you kiss me for real and find out,” I teased.
“You fight dirty, Cupcake.”
“I learned from the best.”
Never one to turn down a dare, Asher planted one right on me.
“You’re looking good, Desario,” Ronan said when Ash finally pulled away, the relief in his eyes belying his lighthearted tone. “Color is back to normal.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“For a while there, your skin was the shade of warm milk,” he said.
I winced. That didn’t sound like a good look.
“Three guesses as to what putthatfresh shade of pink on her cheeks,” Asher said.
“You’re welcome, love,” Darius said, returning from the bathroom, freshly showered and fully dressed.
“Yeah, you’re welcome for my contribution, too,” Asher said.
I laughed. “What contrib—”
He cut me off with another kiss, this one so deep and delicious I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my mouth.
“Okay, kids,” Ronan grumbled. “Knock it off before this shit turns into a health code violation. I’ve got dinner here, remember.”
He set two large paper bags on the dresser and emptied out the contents, consisting of several take-out containers from Marcella’s Diner and a twelve-pack of beer, along with what I could smell were a few large hunks of raw meat for the hounds, wrapped up in butcher’s paper.
“So Marcella’s is still up and running, even with the storm?” I asked, keeping my eyes peeled for the only meal I cared about in that moment, which would arrive neither in take-out containers nor butcher’s paper.
Ronan nodded. “Pretty sure it’s the only restaurant in town still open. Place was crowded as hell.”
The smell of all that hot food drifted toward me—burgers, fries, fried chicken, pancakes, pie. Ronan crumpled up the empty bags, then said, “Okay, remind me who ordered what.”
Panic gripped my limbs. Was that all they’d brought back? “What about the—”
“I’ve got you covered,querida.” Emilio held up a small cooler I hadn’t noticed, then popped it open and pulled out two opaque bags of blood. “Still cold though. Should I warm it up?”
My body reacted on instinct, arms and legs straining hard against the straps, my stomach growling like a wild animal. I felt the slide of my fangs, the sharp points piercing my lips.
