“How many times have I told you,” she says, her voice low and shaking, “we die together or not at all.”
Josiah only shrugs. “I love it when you get angry with me, beautiful Layla.”
She’s in his face in an instant, hissing, her fangs out. He just grins down at her, the split across his cheek already knitting shut while I watch, the skin sealing over until there’s nothing left of it.
Josiah is a confusing vampire to me. Some of his wounds heal clean, like they were never there, while others don’t healat all. There’s an old scar running from his temple down to his cheekbone, one that just sits and never fades. What does that mean?
I cock my head and watch them. I shouldn’t understand her. But I do. My lion wanted to claw Aaron’s eyes out for scaring me the way he did back there, and so did I.
“You want to play with me?” Layla’s fuming now, her chest heaving. Josiah looks back at her with so much love it doesn’t fit anywhere on his face. The man’s insane. “Okay...” Her voice drops, sweet and awful. “I’ll show you.”
She turns and storms off. Josiah watches her go, then lifts both hands at us. “What? Keeps the spice in our mate bond alive.” His grin sharpens. “I love it when my Layla wants to torture me.”
A sharp length of wood comes spinning across the Market straight for his chest. I gasp. His hand snaps up and catches it an inch from his heart. The grin drops off his face.
“Beautiful Layla,” he calls. “That was too close.”
She’s already stalking back toward him with a fresh plank in her hands. She lifts her knee and breaks it clean across her leg, tosses the dull half over her shoulder, and keeps the jagged end pointed at him.
“You want to die, huh?” She comes at him, slow and certain. “Well, the only way you’re dying is through me. Come here, Jo. Let me take care of that for you.”
Josiah looks over at the three of us, at me, Aaron and Kade, and finds nothing but flat stares waiting for him. He lowers the stake in his hand and dips his head to me, quick and courtly. “It’s been lovely spending time with such a new mate bond.” His eyes warm on me. “A pleasure being in your company, beautiful lioness.”
Layla hurls the stake. Josiah’s gone in a blur before it crosses the space where he stood, and the wood clatters.
She stops. She turns on us, her eyes narrowing to slits. “What!”
The three of us find very interesting things to look at in the other direction. “Nothing, Layla,” we say together.
She plants her hands on her hips. “Men.” She bends and scoops the fallen stake off the ground. A laugh rolls up out of her, low and delighted—not right. “Sometimes you can’t live without them.” She rests the long end against her shoulder and starts to walk, slow, her voice lifting into a singsong. “Sometimes... you just have to kill them.”
“Joooo. Oh, joooo, where are you?” Her wicked laugh carries the length of the Market. “Come play with me. You said you’d die for me. Come on, baby. Show me.”
Up and down the square, the shifters hauling broken boards and resetting the stalls stop, every head turning to watch Layla coo for her mate through the wreckage.
Kade drags a hand down her face. “I really wish we could keep those two locked up in Medina Shadow.” Her voice climbs. “They cause more harm than GOOD!”
Layla doesn’t slow. “Jooo... oh, jooo...”
Josiah doesn’t make her hunt long. He blurs into being on top of an overturned cart, both arms spread wide like he’s offering her the whole of himself.
“Here I am, beautiful Layla.” His grin is all fang. “Come take what’s yours.”
She doesn’t answer him. She throws.
The stake leaves her hand. Josiah tips his head a fraction and lets it pass close enough to skim his temple. It buries itself in a support beam behind him with a deep wooden thunk. He laughs, delighted, and that’s the wrong thing to do. Layla’s already moving.
She crosses the square in a black blur and hits him at the waist. A wolf hauling a beam out of the rubble drops it andthrows himself clear just before they land. They go through the cart together, the wood blowing apart around them, apples and broken slats scattering. My tail snaps tight against my leg. When the dust thins she’s straddling his chest with a fresh shard of cart in her fist, the point of it pressed dead center over his heart, her hair hanging loose around both their faces.
“You scared me.” The play drops clean out of her voice for the first time. “Don’t you ever let me think I almost lost you again.”
Josiah goes still beneath her. He lifts one hand, slow, and gently strokes her cheek with a tenderness that doesn’t match the stake aimed at his heart.
“Then put it through me, my love.” His voice goes soft, reverent, completely sincere. “If it’ll make you feel better. I’d be honored to die for you.”
She drives it down.
I gasp, but he catches her wrist a breath before the point breaks his skin and holds it there, the two of them trembling against each other, the wood quivering over his heart. He’s grinning up at her, helpless with it. She’s snarling down at him. And I can’t tell whether they’re about to kill each other or fall into the rubble and do something I’d rather not watch.
