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And he thought the worst part of being a Nightwalker was the thirst.
Adam scowled. “We’ll talk later.” Since she finally returned his cell to him, maybe they could do it over the phone instead of in person. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Sure.” She opened the door. “You know where I live. If you change your mind, the door’s always open. Night, champ.”
As the echo of the slamming car door rang in his ears, Adam’s claws sliced into the leather of his car’s seat as he fought the desire to get out of the car and follow her toward her apartment.
But he didn’t. And, as soon as he made sure she was safely inside, he took a deep breath, adjusted his aching cock, and put his foot to the gas pedal, heading back out of Grayson.
For the first time since he woke up to the shifter’s splitting howl, Adam could breathe again.
Deb was a lifesaver.
Instead of going home, Adam took the ride out to the Bumptown. He told himself it was because Colt left him a couple of messages, asking him if he was available for two drop-offs and a full delivery before giving him the info and reminding him to drop in overnight if he was around.
It was a little after ten when he arrived. Colt’s last text told Adam that the first delivery would need to be dropped off after midnight, and that he left the keys for the loaded delivery in the van. He tended to do that in case he was busy with Shea or pack business, and while Adam’s knee-jerk instinct was to worry about someone stealing it, Colt had a point. Nobody would dare make off with Colton Wolfe’s van, especially in his Bumptown.
Driving past Colt’s place, he saw that the lights were out. The delivery van was in the driveway; Colt’s truck wasn’t. The shifter wasn’t home.
Good.
Before he did the deliveries for Colt, he needed to have another chat with Debbie.
He was lucky to catch the Dayborn before she turned in for the night. After offering Adam a goblet of blood wine that he politely declined, she sipped on her own glass while he confessed everything that happened between him and Tabby.
It all came pouring out of him. As he confided in Debbie, he wondered if she was using her Dayborn abilities on him before he decided it didn’t matter. She was the only one he could go to with his questions and, luckily, she didn’t judge.
To his overwhelming relief, Deb let out a joyous, booming laugh when Adam admitted that he was worried he’d taken two steps toward bonding Tabby to him without her consent. He couldn’t help but think about how Julian Koenig tried to force Shea into being his betrothed. He never wanted to take that choice away from Tabby.
He didn’t even know if he wanted a mate. Right now, he just wanted to continue getting to know his slayer. Sex was very much on the table—but not if he lost control, instigated the third blood exchange, and selfishly bonded her to him when he was still working toward undoing the change.
As it turned out, he freaked out over nothing. Debbie explained to him between amused chuckles that paranormal bondings—including blood-bondings—could never be forced. Unless both parties wanted it, unless they both made a conscious decision to accept the connection between them, he could exchange blood with Tabby a hundred times and a bond would never snap into place.
Besides, she reminded Adam, it wasn’t just the third blood exchange that would do the trick; it involved a much higher intimacy than that. Unless he took his betrothed’s blood at the same time as he came inside of her, he was fine.
Adam probably used up close to a pint of blood, flushing as Debbie tried to give him the vampire’s version of the birds and the bees talk. When she started recommending the condom brands she preferred her lovers to use, and the best positions where she could feed and fuck at the same time, he hurriedly thanked her for her advice before booking it back to his coupe.
At least he could breathe again. And while he still wanted to kick his own ass for slipping blood to Tabby, trying to mark her as his in some small way, he felt so much better knowing that he didn’t go past the point of no return with her. That he didn’t completely fuck this up.
You know where I live. If you change your mind, the door’s always open.
He really, really hoped she meant that.
Feeling lighter than he had in days, Adam went back to Colt’s, leaving his coupe in the drive as he swapped it out for the delivery van.
By now, Adam thought he was getting a handle on Tabby and what kind of woman she was. No way would she be waiting around for him to pull his head out of his ass. She gave him her time last night—and even then she was called into work by that Boone guy. He’d be willing to bet that, as soon as she went up to her apartment, she re-upped her gear and headed back out on a hunt.
There wasn’t anythin
g he could do about the elixir. Tabby was probably right about Holly. If it took a handful of days to arrange the first meet, how long would it take for the witch to give him a second chance?
And that was if she did.
Besides, Adam had a job of his own to take care of. So what if Colt only made him a delivery boy because Shea insisted on it? The bonded pair was right. He needed something to busy himself with that wasn’t just obsessing over Rafe and being a Nightwalker. They were looking out for him. He might as well let them.
So he did his deliveries because he couldn’t come up with any valid reason not to before driving the van all the way back to the Bumptown. Colt still wasn’t home. Figuring he was either with Wolfe and Evangeline, or he was staying overnight with Shea at her shop, he left the keys in the van like Colt did before hopping in his coupe and speeding the rest of the way back to Grayson.
Back to Tabby.
