Kristen Painter - Out for Blood

“Permanent is a long time.”

“Something we both understand very well.”

“Maris and Dominic didn’t work. Why would you and I be any different?”

“Because we would be. We’re not them. There aren’t any secrets between us.” He laid his hand over hers. “You’re trembling and your heart rate is going at the same speed as this plane. I didn’t mean to scare you, so I’ll just drop it.” He settled back into his seat and closed his eyes, but even she could tell he was disappointed.

“You really do love me, don’t you?”

He answered without opening his eyes. “Enough that it frightens me, too.”

His being scared made it a little easier to take. Like they were both on the same side of things, which they were, but his words just solidified how true that was. She loved him. She did. She wasn’t comarré anymore and shouldn’t be bound by any of those rules or standards. Didn’t want to be, really. What she wanted was a life of her own, where the decisions she made came from her heart and not a head full of rules. Fingers shaking, she unbuckled her seat belt and stood.

He looked up at her, the last vestiges of his disguise slipping off his skin. “Leaving?”

“I need to get out of this dress.” She held her quivering hand out to him and tried to keep her heart from exploding and her voice from cracking. “Maybe… maybe you could help me?”

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He licked his bottom lip and blinked slowly. “Are you asking me—”

“Yes.”

He was out of his seat a split second later and pulling her into his arms. “It’s been a really long time since I… helped a woman out of her dress.”

“Well, it’s been never for me.” She smiled at the absurdity of her nerves. “We’ll figure it out, though, right?”

Eyes shining silver, he kissed the corners of her smile and she realized she wasn’t the only one trembling. “Hell, yes.”

Behind the closed door of the plane’s bedroom, with Chrysabelle in his arms, the throb of her life in his veins and the full impact of what they’d just done, there was no way Mal wasn’t asking her again. So he did, inciting the voices to levels that would have been unbearable if not for the fresh blood in his system. “Marry me.” Fool fool fool.

With a sated mew, she stretched lazily on the bed beside him, twisting the sheet as she turned so they lay hip to hip. “Asking now is dirty pool.”

“That’s my MO. You should know that by now.” He rolled his bottom lip in. The taste of her blood still lingered. Being able to bite her made everything so much better. Worse.

She went very quiet. He lifted his head to glance at her. Even in just the soft cabin lights, she gleamed. Everywhere. He turned and leaned on one elbow, his head in his hand, his fingers tracing the signum that scrolled across her collarbone. “You will, you know.”

She blinked at him. “I will what?”

“Marry me.” He focused on her eyes, making sure she understood how serious he was. “I don’t do this”—he waggled his finger between them—“lightly.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits and her mouth bunched to one side. “So that’s an order, is it?”

“Yes.” He kissed her, then sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “In fact, I bet Mortalis is licensed.”

She bolted upright beside him. “Holy mother, Mortalis. And Amery! Do you think they know what we’ve been doing?”

He wanted to laugh but didn’t. “There’s a good chance.”

“We should get dressed. How long have we been in here? Are we landing? We’re probably landing soon.” She yanked the sheet off him to wrap around herself. “Get dressed!”

“Calm down. I can pretty much guarantee neither Amery nor Mortalis is going to be surprised by any of this.”

She threw his shirt at him. “Get. Dressed.”

A knock sounded at the door. “We’ll be landing in thirty minutes.”

“We’ll be out,” Mal called. “Just getting dressed.”

Chrysabelle glared at him.

“What? You don’t think Mortalis knows we’re both in here? We’re on a plane. Where else are we going to be?”

One hand held the sheet around her body while she rubbed her forehead with the other. “This was a bad idea.”

“It gets better the more you do it.” Mal laughed and winked. “You’ll see.”

His pants hit him in the face.

Doc eased his weight onto the side of the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly. Fi shifted and stretched toward him. He went still, wanting to wake her but not too abruptly.

Her lids fluttered open. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi.” He smiled back. “How you feeling?”

“Like a truck ran me over.” She yawned. “A medium-sized one.” She rubbed her eyes. “My head feels cloudy.” She looked around, hands spreading across the comforter. “How long have I been here?”

“Day and a half. Barasa drugged you up pretty good so you could sleep and recover.”

She yawned again and rolled her head around. “I don’t like that. But I get it. How are things with… everything?”

“You mean Heaven?”

She moved her head enough for him to understand she was nodding.

“Heaven’s father showed up.”

Fi tensed and fear widened her eyes.

Doc grabbed her hand. “It’s cool. It is, trust me. He’s not a bad guy. Nothing like I thought.”

She relaxed, blowing out a breath. “He can’t be happy.”

“He’s not, but he also understands how pride law works. He knows Heaven challenged you and you won.” He just didn’t know exactly how. And Fi didn’t need to either.

“But she died.” Worry bracketed her eyes. “I didn’t do that. I don’t have the power to do that. Not in my corporeal form.”

Doc studied her hand. So small and fragile and pale compared to his big dark one. He had two choices. Tell her the truth and let her bear the weight of someone else’s sins or leave her blameless.

He looked up and forced himself to smile. “Barasa said she had a heart defect that none of us could have known about. The fight was too much for her.”

“So… I didn’t really kill her? She died of natural causes?”

He hesitated, smiling a little broader to try to convince himself, too. “You had nothing to do with her death.”

At least that wasn’t a lie.

“She means to get rid of me,” Creek explained after showing Annika the pictures on his phone. “Whether or not John goes along with that, I don’t know. He’s varcolai and has no beef with me, so chances are he won’t, but the mayor can be very persuasive when she wants.”

“The KM do not want this city run by a vampire. They’ll want her removed. Probably permanently, but I’ll tell them we need provocation.” She sat on the steps that led to his sleeping loft. “Plus I know you’re not going to kill a woman, vampire or otherwise, unless you have a stellar reason to.”

He leaned against one of the garage’s support columns. Annika was so different from Argent. “I appreciate that. Something tells me that reason won’t be long coming.”

Annika nodded thoughtfully. “She’ll be on the warpath for sure after she finds out she’s not getting the baby.”

Creek’s forehead furrowed. “How do you know that?”

“Our operative inside Tatiana’s unit was eliminated.” She smiled. “Well, one of them was.”

“Good to know.” No point in asking for more details. “Hey, I don’t want to kick you out, but I have somewhere to be.”

Still smiling, she stood, brushed the dust off her backside, and walked to his V-Rod. “Yes, I know. Dinner at your grandmother’s.”