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“True. I don’t even want children.”
That statement surprises me. “Really? Why not?” I sit up and lean my head on my hand too.
“My unstable lifestyle. My all-consuming career. It’s no place to raise a child.”
“Understandable,” I say, but for some reason, I’m disappointed. I don’t know why—Maddox and I aren’t together. We’re not even dating. It doesn’t make one difference to my life whatsoever.
When I meet his gaze, it’s warm, piercing, and magnetic. And vulnerable. My lips remember how his felt against them, and they’re pleading for more. He’s opening up to me again, and the air crackles around us like a live wire.
His face inches toward mine, and I’m literally aching for his kiss. His tongue brushes the bottom of my lip, as though he’s tasting me. Sparks shower across the back of my eyes, and my lips part for him.
But Maddox pulls away and sits up. “Okay, for real—I hear scratching noises.”
“Seriously?” I can barely hear myself over my pulse gushing in my ears.
“Yes. Listen.”
Not the best time for that, but I give it a go. Sure enough, there’s the faintest sound of scratching, and I cringe. “It’s probably a squirrel.”
“Are you sure? It’s coming from the ceiling.”
“No,” I say, a shiver shooting up my spine. “Great. Now I’m scared too. Thanks.”
“I’ll just have to be the hero.” He throws his covers off, grabs the nightstand, and moves it to the middle of the room. With the full moon shining in, I can see him as he steps up and puts his head up in the beams of the ceiling.
A desperate flapping sound precedes two black-ridged wings covering Maddox’s face. “Oh, shit!” he yells as he waves his arms.
I let out a bloodcurdling scream as I leap out of bed, and the thing that was on his face is now on mine. I flap my hands and flail, terrified because there’s acreatureon my face.
Billy opens the door to the yurt, crying out, “What’s going on in here?” and the creature flies away, its wings expanding in the open air.
I’m still screaming in shock when Maddox turns on the lamp. He’s got a scratch on his face and horror in his eyes. He croaks, “That was a bat.”
I shake my head furiously. “No. No, it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been. It was just a birdlike rodent. With ridged wings.”
“Rook. That’s a bat.”
“It was definitely a bat,” Billy echoes.
I bite my lip. “So it might be a bad time to tell you that there’s a scratch on your face, Madman.”
“And you have one on your arm, Rook.”
I gasp, looking at a red scrape on my skin. “Oh, shit.”
When Skye rushes into our yurt, we tell her what happened. She studies Maddox and me before saying, “The bat kiss represents protection from the dark spirits.”
When they leave, Maddox climbs back into bed.
“What are you doing?” My mouth is open.
“Um, pretending to go to sleep?”
“Hell no. We need to get our asses to the ER for a rabies vaccine.”
“You’re kidding.”
I grab his arm. “I’m not. Get dressed. If we get rabies, we die.”
