I glanced at Elian. His eyes were closed, his head lolling to the side. I tucked one of his silver braids behind his ear, my hand trembling for more reasons than I wanted to think about.
In a quiet voice, I said, “I told you before we left New Orleans, Jax. I’ve got your backs, same as you’ve got mine. So either help me or stand aside, because I’m not letting him die here tonight.”
Jax sighed, but finally agreed. Kneeling beside us, he gave me a quick nod, then gripped Elian’s shoulder. “Careful, Saint.”
I took a deep breath. Pressed my wrist to Elian’s cold lips.
He tried to swat me away, to turn his head, but he was too weak to fight me.
“Bite me, bloodsucker,” I said, cupping his chin to hold him steady. “Or you’re going to give me some weird complex about how my blood is undesirable and I’ll end up in therapy and I don’t have health insurance so I’ll have to—”
Fangs pierced my skin, a sharp pain shooting up my arm. But before I could even cry out, the pain receded, chased by a pleasure so intense, I almost came.
“Damn,” I whispered, and Elian’s gaze locked on mine, new life flooding into his eyes, their silvery depths swirling with desire as he licked and sucked.
Tasted.
Devoured.
Left me weak and panting and—
“Slow down, Saint,” Jax said, but Elian ignored him, sucking harder, his eyes fierce and fiery, my skin burning under the instant press of his mouth.
“That’s enough.”
I was vaguely aware of the demon’s command, but I didn’t dare pull away. Didn’t dare deny Elian the blood he needed. Didn’t dare deny myself the exquisite pleasure of—
“I said that’senough.”
I hadn’t even felt Jax reach for it, but before I knew it, he had my stake out of its thigh holster, the pointy end pressed to Elian’s throat.
Elian shot him a vicious glare, but—with a final swirl of his tongue against my skin—he released me.
Blood shone on his mouth, his lips pulling into that crooked grin I loved as much as resented.
“Haley, you good?” Jax asked, sliding my stake back into place.
Blinking, I tore my gaze away from Elian’s ruby-red mouth and glanced down at my wrist. The wound throbbed, every beat of my heart sending a matching pulse of desire through my core.
But unlike the asshole vamps who’d bitten me at Saints and Sinners, Elian had infused the bite with his healing magick. The bright red punctures immediately began to close, leaving nothing behind but a smear of blood and a deep, endless ache between my thighs.
“I’m fine,” I told Jax. Then, forcing a bright smile, I looked at Elian once more and said, “And you? All better, gryphon-slayer?”
He held my gaze for a long moment, flickers of desire still flashing in his eyes. He reached for my hand, gave it a quick squeeze. “Rest assured, sparrow,” he whispered. “Your blood ishighlydesirable—no therapy needed.”
* * *
We packed up in silence, hiking another couple of miles through Blackbone before deciding to stop for the night.
Well, for whatever constituted “the night” in a place with three moons and no sun.
The guys insisted on setting up camp, so while they hammered tent stakes into the ground with mallets and generally played out their macho outdoorsman fantasies, I found a quiet spot nearby and took a seat.
Other than the occasional smack of a mallet or the snapping of branches for firewood, the forest was oddly silent. We’d moved far past the main area of the fires; all that remained was the vague scent of woodsmoke. It reminded me of Jax.
All around me, the finger-bone trees reached out, black and barren, strangely beautiful. There were no crickets or night birds, no rustling of leaves, no skittering of nocturnal creatures.
Yet the place held its own beauty. When I placed my palms against the dirt, I felt the hum of its magick running just beneath the surface, wild and untamed. Dark. Enchanting.
