Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Lancaster,” she said quietly, staring out the windshield. “Charlie’s outside Lancaster.”
I understood instantly and almost laughed at the brilliance of their plan. Zeke must have told them where to go if things went sideways. My brother had been a pain in the ass since the moment he was born, but he’d also been the kindest of us, and arguably the smartest. If Lucy hadn’t gone back to Baltimore, there was a good chance we wouldn’t have ever found the Franklin siblings.
“Are you hungry?” I asked after another half hour of silence.
She was killing me. Our proximity inside the car had ratcheted up the heat that was currently racing through my veins, and I knew that she wasn’t immune to it. Every few minutes, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She’d already dropped the bag between her feet and had spent most of the last fifteen minutes pulling on the chest of her shirt like she was fanning the skin beneath it. Even her hairline was becoming a little damp.
“I’m not hungry,” she said. “Could we turn up the air conditioning? Why is it so hot in here? It’s starting to make me feel sick.”
“It’s not hot in here,” I replied as she messed with the controls. “I turned it up as far as it will go.”
“Maybe it’s broken.”
“It’s the heat.”
“That’s what I said,” she snapped. “It’s frigging hot in here.”
“The mating heat,” I clarified.
Her head snapped to the side. “The what?”
“Didn’t Zeke explain anything?”
“He explained plenty,” she said slowly, staring at me. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a biological process—”
“Cut the shit.”
“It’s basically nature’s way of making sure that mates complete the bond. Can I try something?”
“No.”
I ignored her and set my hand carefully on her knee.
Lucy’s breath left her in a whoosh of air. I understood the feeling. The pulsing in my veins slowed. Not completely, but enough that my skin stopped crawling. If that small point of contact could settle it that much, I wondered how it would feel to have her pressed against me.
Naked.
Lucy jerked my hand up a few inches so that it was partially wrapped around her thigh and sighed in relief.
“Good?” I asked, glancing at her.
“A little better, yeah,” she said quietly. “This is how Charlie felt?”
“I think it’s a little different for everyone,” I replied. “But yes.”
“No wonder they were always touching,” she said to herself as she relaxed into the seat.
“Even after the bond has been completed,” I explained. “The urge to be close to your mate doesn’t go away. It gets easier to manage, but it’s never fully gone.”
“I can see the draw,” she said. “Who wouldn’t want someone literally unable to leave you?”
“It’s more than that,” I countered. “You’re my other half. The reason humans ever heard the word soulmate.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“You will.”
“You seem pretty sure of that.”
“Anything else is unacceptable,” I replied before I could think it through.
Lucy just huffed.
The rest of the drive was mostly quiet. With my hand on Lucy’s thigh, my mind had quieted enough that I felt able to think through exactly what we were dealing with. The men we’d encountered when Beau and Reese were attacked in her apartment were all human, so the conspiracy didn’t spread far enough that they’d had enough Vampires to do their bidding. My gut told me that the group of Vampires who knew what was going on was small, probably only a few.
There had always been plenty of infighting between Vampire factions. There’d even been wars hundreds of years ago, but even then, mates had been off limits. For the most part, Vampires with mates hadn’t even been participants in those wars. It went against everything we lived for to squander that gift.
The Vampires responsible for the death of my brother didn’t have mates. The sudden belief was unsubstantiated, but it felt right. No one who’d gone through that jolt of recognition, of knowing, would’ve been comfortable taking it from another.
It was still pretty early when we pulled up to the old farmhouse and climbed out of the car. Chickens pecked in the grass under an old oak tree, and the sound of children playing out back made a hundred memories drift through my mind. It was like stepping into a different time.
I rested my hand on the base of Lucy’s spine, both for the connection and what the move represented, as the front door opened and a familiar face came into view.
“Renn,” I greeted.
“Ambrose Boucher,” Isaac Renno replied, taking measured steps toward us. “It’s very good to see you.”
“You too, old friend,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. “I hear you have a houseguest.”
“He’s still in bed,” Renn told Lucy, jerking his head toward the door.
Without a word, Lucy raced past us and disappeared into the house.
“Ezekiel?” Renn asked quietly.
“Gone.”
He was silent for a moment. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”