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Part of me was amused, but mostly, I just worried about her. I wanted to know she was taking this all seriously—that she understood what was at risk. "Vampires can touch your mind," I said. "The more powerful ones can wipe your memories, or even alter them. They can make you think you want to walk down a side street or lay down and curl up in a ball. They can even make you think you want to take a bite out of your own wrist."

Sylvie's face paled. "Seriously?"

"Some of the more subtle tricks are beyond the skill of all but the most powerful vamps, but almost all of them can clear the last few minutes of memory. It's how they keep their food from talking about what happened."

She gulped. "So you're saying a vampire could've fed on me at some point and made me forget about it?"

"It's not likely, but possible. Yeah."

"So what chance do we have against that?"

"Their tricks don't work on me as easily. So you stay close to me and I'll keep you from doing anything stupid."

Sylvie nodded. "Hey, Riggs?"

I was grabbing my coat. I stopped to look at her. She looked small enough that a strong breeze could've blown her away, and I briefly considered facing the wrath of Sylvie and The Wet Flea by simply keeping her here until Lazarus gave up. Of course that wasn't a true option. The pack itself would come to remove us if we stayed beyond a week here because we'd be risking war with the Coven. And, of course, Maisey would die if we didn't get her out of here and to the rebels.

"What is it?" I asked.

"If you’re seriously hoping to get us to pay you some big fee when this is over, we’ll try. But we really don’t have much, so I just felt like you should know we might not be able to give you what you’re looking for.”

I grinned. "Yeah, you will. We’ll work something out."

Sylvie looked a little uncertain. "As long as we're talking a fee in with no more than two zeroes, there's a chance we can make that happen."

A brief, but vivid image of her on her back with sweat glistening on her brow sparked in my mind. It was all skin, soft curves, and warmth. With effort, I cleared my head. "We'll figure it out when the time comes. For now, let's focus on keeping you in one piece. I need you to be ready to go in five minutes."

Sylvie grabbed her long-dead cell phone and held it up with a grin. "All packed. Ready when you are."

"Do you, uh. Need to pee or anything? We won't be able to take bathroom breaks until we get there."

She actually laughed. "Do I need to pee?" Her smile faded. "Actually, I could probably empty the tank a little. Just to be safe." She shot me two finger guns and an awkward wink, then hurried to the bathroom.

I was going to have my fucking hands full getting both girls to Blackridge.

Sylvie popped her head out of the bathroom. She had a toothbrush in one hand and was applying the deodorant I'd bought her with the other. Yes, it happened to be lavender scented, but that was the first one I grabbed. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Does what hurt?"

"When you guys change your body into wolf things? Like how Fang did his fingers." She hesitated, eyes going wide. "Wait. Can you change any part of your body to-"

"I'm not answering that," I said. “And is that really relevant right now?”

She smiled around her toothbrush, then a glob of foamy toothpaste bubbles spilled over her chin and landed on her breasts. "Shit," she said, spraying more toothpaste on herself.

She disappeared into the bathroom and ran the sink. When she came back out, there was a wet spot right on her nipple, which was pressing precariously against the fabric of the shirt I'd let her borrow.

She crossed her arms, blushing. "I'm a sloppy tooth brusher. Sue me."

Nothing about this human should've captivated me like it did. She was ridiculously fragile. Forget the inherent drawbacks of being human and the obvious mortality that came with it. She was fragile, even for a human. She could hardly walk outside without getting bed-ridden with fever for days. She also struggled to perform basic tasks like teeth brushing without a high likelihood of mishaps.

The woman was a mess, and it should've made me regret my commitment to protect her. Instead, it all only made me feel more of an insatiable need to keep her safe. Worse, I'd found myself enjoying our interactions and struggling to keep from relaxing into the conversations with her. I'd kept my walls up, but only barely.

I had a very real fear that she was going to bring them crashing down one awkward moment at a time. I supposed that didn't particularly matter. There was no world where our paths continued to cross once my job was done. I'd see her to safety, and I'd exit from her life, which was no doubt going to be disgustingly tangled with vamps because of what her sister had done.

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