Iâd be a fool if I didnât admit that part of Kistenâs allure was the mix of deep intimacy he offered along with the potential danger of him losing control and biting me. Yeah, I was a stupid, trusting girl, but it made for great sex.
And Kisten is very careful, I thought, pulling coyly away at the low growl rumbling up through him. He wouldnât have come over if he wasnât sure of his control, and I knew he teased himself with my off-limits blood as much as I tested my will against the supposedly better-than-sex carnal ecstasy that a vampire bite could bring.
âI see youâre making friends with your neighbors,â he said, and I eased from him to reopen the window and wash my hands. If I didnât stop, Ivy would sense it and be out here glowering like a shunned lover. We were roommates and business partnersâthat was allâbut she made no attempt to hide that she wanted more. She had asked me once to be her scion, which was sort of a number-one helper and wielder of vampire power when the vamp in question was limited by sunlight. She wasnât dead yet and didnât need a scion, but Ivy was a planner.
The position was an honor, but I didnât want it, even though, as a witch, I couldnât be turned vampire. It involved an exchange of blood to cement ties, which was why I had flatly refused her the first time sheâd asked, but after meeting her old high school roommate, I thought she was after more than that. Kisten could separate the drive for blood from the desire for sex, but Ivy couldnât, and the sensations a blood-lusting vamp pulled from me were too much like sexual hunger for me to think otherwise. Ivyâs offer that I become her scion was also an offer to be her lover, and as much as I cared for her, I wasnât wired that way.
I turned off the tap and dried my hands on the dish towel, frowning at the butterfly wings drifting closer to the garden. âYou could have helped me out there,â I said sourly.
âMe?â Blue eyes glinting in amusement, he set the orange juice on the counter and shut the fridge. âRachel, honey, I love you and all, but what do you think I could have done?â
Tossing the dish towel to the counter, I turned my back on him, crossing my arms while I gazed out at the cautiously approaching wings. He was right, but that didnât mean I had tolike it. I was lucky Matalina had shown up, and I wondered again what she wanted.
A warm breath touched my shoulder and I jerked, realizing Kisten had snuck up on me, unheard with his vamp-soft steps. âI would have come out if you needed it,â he said, his rumbly voice going right into me. âBut they were only garden fairies.â
âYeah,â I said with a sigh. âI suppose.â Turning, my eyes went over his shoulder to the three books on the table. âAre those for me?â I asked, wanting to change the subject.
Kisten reached past me to pluck an early daisy from the vase beside Mr. Fish. âPiscary had them behind glass. They look like spell books to me. I thought you might find something to Were in them. Theyâre yours if you want them. Iâm not going to tell him where they went.â
His eyes were eager for the chance to help me, but I didnât move, standing beside the sink with my arms crossed, eyeing them. If the master vampire had them under glass, then they were probably older than the sun. Even worse, they had the look of demon magic, making them useless since only demons could work it. Generally .
Uncrossing my arms, I considered them again. Maybe there was something I could use. âThanks,â I said, moving to touch the top book and stifling a shudder when I felt a slight sponginess, as if my aura had gone from liquid to syrup. My torn skin tingled, and I wiped my hand on my jeans. âYou wonât get in trouble?â
The faint tightening of his jaw was the only sign of his nervousness.