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“It won’t happen again.”
     
    Blake cleared his throat like he was about to say something, then stopped. Elise glanced up, waiting, but his mouth was set in a tight line. Whatever it was he’d been about to say, he’d decided against it.
     
    “Here.” Elise indicated the chair across from her. “Sit. I’ll shave you.”
     
    Mencheres had dropped off those essentials along with some clothes for Blake, since they were close to the same size. Blake didn’t argue about shaving himself. He just sat in the chair and tilted his head back.
     
    Elise approached, her gaze fastened on the long line of Blake’s throat where his pulse throbbed so temptingly. She licked her lips. What would it be like to taste him?
     
    Stop it, she rebuked herself at once. He needs your help, not your selfishness.
     
    She lathered Blake’s neck, working quickly with the razor so she didn’t have to be so near to him. Blake’s scent was a mixture of nervousness, weariness, and something else. Something spicy Elise couldn’t name since she hadn’t been able to determine Blake’s natural scent underneath the camouflaging odors of blood and death before. His pulse increased every time she made a stroke with the razor. Was he worried about a vampire holding a sharp object to his throat? Wondering whether she’d be overcome with bloodlust if she accidentally nicked his skin?
     
    “You’re in no danger of my feeding from you,” Elise told him after he twitched when she leaned in close to shave under his jaw. Even with the dabs of shaving cream clinging to his face, without his former shaggy beard, he was more handsome than Elise first realized.
     
    “Do I still smell too bad?” he teased.
     
    No. You smell wonderful, and I’d like to bury my fangs in your throat and hear you moan while I suck your blood.
     
    “I’m not, ah, hungry,” Elise stuttered. Where had her icy aloofness gone? Why was he affecting her so much?
     
    She finished with a last upward stroke of the razor, jumping back to gesture to the clothes on the bed.
     
    “These are for you. I’ll leave while you change.”
     
    Elise almost ran from the room, slamming the door and leaning against it while clutching the razor in her hand.

Chapter Nine
     
    T he largest salt flats in the United States were in
Utah
. Flying would have been the quickest way to get there, but even though Mencheres had a private plane, he didn’t choose that option. Maybe he was trying to give Blake a couple days to prepare for his death.
     
    Driving was another possibility, but that came with its own set of difficulties, the least of which was comfort. Stuffing Blake into a backseat for over two days while driving him to his execution was cruel. Also, the demon had a greater chance of causing an accident and killing Blake—with plenty of people around to jump into—if they were all crammed into a car.
     
    Therefore, Elise was relieved when Mencheres said they’d take a train. It would just be the three of them. Bones had muttered something about it being too soon since the last train he’d taken, whatever that meant, and since he still held a grudge against the demon for its hours of tormenting Cat, Elise was glad Bones and Cat weren’t going.
     
    Mencheres booked two bedroom cabins for the journey. It would take them almost three days to get to the Bonneville Salt Flats in
Utah
. Once they boarded at Union Station, Mencheres closed himself in the cabin with Blake and ordered Elise to sleep in the other one. She’d stayed awake during the night and through the morning to watch over Blake. The demon hadn’t taken him again, however, and Blake had slept like he’d been drugged. It seemed with his fate sealed, he felt relieved, while Elise was the one struggling with anger and doubt.
     
    Once alone in the cabin, Elise didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but her body had different ideas. The rocking of the train felt comfortingly familiar, lulling her to sleep even though