Page 46 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

The cold bit through my clothes as I tried to stand. My legs trembled, the exhaustion from the battle and the fire dragging at me like invisible chains. The snow swirled in slow, glowing spirals around us—white flakes catching in the light of the burning warehouse behind. I pushed against the ground, but my balance faltered halfway up.

Con’s hand was there before I fell.

Strong fingers caught my arm, his grip firm. The other came to my waist, guiding me up until I was fully upright. His body was a solid heat against the night’s chill. The smell of him—smoke, metal, and that subtle trace of cedar—wrapped around me, grounding me in the moment.

“Easy,” he murmured. “You’ve lost too much energy.”

“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice was little more than a breath.

“You’re not,” he countered quietly. He stepped closer, his arm sliding around my back to keep me stable. I could feel the tension in him—every muscle taut, ready, even now, when we should have been safe.

I looked up to meet his gaze.

Snowflakes caught in his dark hair, melting against the heat radiating off his skin. His eyes, golden even in the half-light, held something raw beneath their usual control—something that broke through all the walls he carried like armor. The firelight flickered across his face, tracing the angles of his jaw, the scar near his mouth.

My heart stuttered.

“Con,” I started, but I didn’t get the rest out.

His hand shifted from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me in closer. The motion was unhurried, deliberate, as if he were giving me time to stop him.

I didn’t.

He lowered his head until his breath brushed against my lips—a mix of smoke and winter air—and then his mouth was on mine.

The world fell away.

It wasn’t a soft kiss, not at first. It was desperate—weeks, maybe years of restraint breaking all at once. The taste of him was heat and ash, wild and grounding all at once. I felt the tremor that ran through him, the way his hand tightened briefly against my spine, anchoring me.

For a moment, everything else—the fire, the snow, the blood, the ache in my body—disappeared. There was only the press of his mouth, the drag of leather against leather, the pulse of the artifact between us thudding in rhythm with my own heart.

He deepened the kiss, slower now, like a vow written against my skin. When I finally pulled back, it wasn’t because I wanted to; I needed space.

Con didn’t move far. His forehead rested against mine, breath still unsteady, the slightest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Couldn’t let you fall,” he murmured, voice rough.

“You didn’t,” I whispered back. “You never do.”

Snow drifted down between us, settling in his hair and on my coat, the flakes melting as they touched our skin. Behind us, the last of the warehouse groaned and collapsed, the flames flaring one final time before dimming into embers.

For a long moment, we stood there—just two silhouettes in the flicker of firelight, smoke curling around us, the heartbeat of the artifact still pulsing between us.

Then Con’s thumb brushed over my cheek, the gesture so careful it almost undid me. “We should move,” he said softly, though he didn’t let go right away. “Before someone else decides to come looking.”

“Right,” I managed, still dazed.

He stepped back just enough for me to breathe again, his hand lingering a second longer at my waist before dropping away. The heat of his touch stayed, though—the kind of warmth that wouldn’t fade, no matter how cold the night became.

And as we turned toward the forest, the snow falling thicker now, I couldn’t help the thought that slipped through me like fire beneath the frost⁠—

I hadn’t fallen.

I’d been caught.

CHAPTER 14

The night air in the mountains was razor-sharp when we finally broke through the tree line. The fire’s glow was long gone now, buried behind jagged peaks, leaving only the pale shimmer of moonlight on the snow. My boots dragged a little more with every step, exhaustion gnawing at the edges of my awareness. The forest seemed endless, its silence pressing in on all sides.