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)
When I finally left the bathroom, I was slick with lotion, my hair was doing good things, and for the first time in a while, my breasts didn’t feel like they had a mind of their own when I walked. I may have been strutting when I found Ambrose leaning against the kitchenette counter, drinking something out of an opaque glass.
“Feel better?” he asked. He threw back whatever it was and turned to rinse the glass in the sink.
“So much better,” I confirmed. I moved closer. “Are you drinking blood?”
Ambrose paused for a moment and then gently set the glass in the bottom of the sink before turning to face me again.
“Yes,” he replied slowly.
“You don’t have to hide it.” I glanced at the sink again.
“I’m not hiding it.”
“You’re only drinking it when I won’t see you.”
“I only need it once a day. I usually have one at night, but last night I was in Charlie’s room with you.”
“Oh.” I leaned my hip against the back of the couch. “Why do you only drink it at night? Don’t you get hungry during the day?”
“We don’t need much, as a rule,” Ambrose explained. “It’s more like a medication. I need a certain amount to keep from getting sick, but my diet is the same foods you eat.”
“I feel like this should be required learning,” I replied. “So we humans don’t look like absolute ass-hats when we’re around Vampires.”
Ambrose smiled. “But the rumors and the myths are more exciting.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“You never asked Zeke about it?” he asked curiously.
“I didn’t know if that was allowed.” I wrinkled my nose as his grin widened. “What? I didn’t want to offend him. I figured if he wanted to explain it, he would.”
“Well, that was very polite of you,” he teased.
“Oh, shut it.”
“I’m glad you feel like you can ask me.”
“Well, I don’t care if I offend you,” I shot back.
Ambrose let out a bark of laughter. “You ready for breakfast?”
“If you’re done in here.”
“I’ll shower in a while,” he confirmed. “I want to get downstairs and see if they’ve gotten anywhere with Finau’s mate.”
“Wait,” I said, putting my arm out to stop him. “Who is that guy?”
“He was in Zeke’s unit,” Ambrose replied grimly.
“The one he was with when—”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” I was dumbfounded. I knew Zeke was gone, but no one had even hinted at how he’d died, and I wasn’t sure if I should ask. I didn’t think knowing would benefit me or Charlie, but it could very well make things harder.
“Zeke was captured,” Ambrose said, the words stilted. “And they didn’t get him back until it was too late.”
“Oh,” I breathed.
“If you have questions, now’s the time to ask them,” he said gently. “But I can promise you that the questions you have are easier to live with than the answers you’d get.”
I swallowed hard, searching his face. He’d tell me. If I wanted to know, he’d give me the information, but he really didn’t want to.
“I don’t have any questions,” I replied finally.
Chapter 8
Ambrose
“Absolutely fucking not,” Lucy shouted at her brother.
I grimaced and wondered if I should intervene. Charlie should’ve known better than to tell her in the middle of breakfast, but from the look on his face, he’d been counting on Lucy not wanting to make a scene.
Considering she’d risen to her feet so fast that her chair had crashed over backward, I thought he’d misjudged things a bit.
“I’ll be perfectly safe,” Charlie practically hissed at her, rising as he widened his eyes in the universal shut-the-hell-up look.
“Bullshit. These guys are frigging commandos, Charles! What the hell do they need you for?”
I tried to hide my wince as Charlie’s cheeks pinkened.
“I’m just going shopping with Erik,” Charlie said, standing up.
The stubborn, angry looks on their faces were incredibly similar.
“Oh, you’re just going to take a little grocery store trip,” Lucy mocked. “Right. After we just snuck back to the United States like a couple of spies, and now you’re just going to go flitting around in public—”
Her words trailed to a stop, and I tensed as she realized exactly what Charlie’s role in the plan was.
“Fuck that,” she snapped, glaring around the table. “What the hell is wrong with all of you? Do you think Zeke would be okay with this?”
My father stiffened.
“Do not,” Charlie ordered, his fists clenching on the tabletop.
“He made me promise him I’d get you back to his family, so you’d be safe,” Lucy shouted. “What a frigging joke!”
“It’s not your decision! You have no idea what Zeke would want.”
“You’re a frigging idiot,” Lucy snapped, pointing at her brother. “He wouldn’t want this.”
“I think I would know better than you,” Charlie shot back.
Lucy started laughing, and the sound had me immediately pushing to my feet. The sound was raspy and broken and just shy of hysterical.
“Would you?” she asked, her voice flat. “Would you know better than me, Charlie? Because I’m pretty sure that you’ve been checked out since the day Zeke left. I was the one who made you get out of bed. I was the one who spoon-fed you when you refused to eat. I was the one who had to carry you into the shower when you weren’t even capable of bathing yourself. I practically carried you on my goddamn back from Europe, you ungrateful shit.”