Sarah Gilman - Deep in Crimson

The warmth spread across his chest to his other arm, stomach, and legs. His muscles relaxed. His cheeks flushed. The immunity wasn’t news…but why the hell did he feel like he’d just downed a double glass of bourbon?

His gaze settled on her lips. The pain of the bite faded until all he knew was the warmth of the venom in his system and the awareness of her mouth on his skin.

Clenching his teeth, he stroked her hair with his free hand. Her furrowed brow smoothed, and she released him. She collapsed back on her pillow and groaned.

Blood and venom poured from the four little wounds at the base of his thumb. He rushed to the bathroom to minimize spilling blood on the carpet—humans tended to freak out over that kind of thing, one more problem he didn’t need. Holding his bleeding hand under running water, he pulled a wad of tissues from the dispenser. Thankfully, her delicate female fangs had left only tiny—but deep—puncture wounds and the blood clotted after a minute.

He slumped into a chair, languid from whatever her venom had done to him. Lexine settled back into a peaceful sleep. A quiet hour passed. The warmth in his system faded, and he did push-ups and sit-ups to dispel the last of the lazy sensation.

Lexine stirred. She sat up in bed, blinking rapidly. Bryce remained asleep, but Jett didn’t worry. Children slept longer—he remembered from his own youth.

“Welcome back.”

Eyes wide, she licked her fangs and stared at his hand. “Tell me I didn’t—”

“You did. You were having a nightmare.”

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” She took his hand and inspected the double set of twin punctures.

“I’ll live.” Indeed, he felt a little too alive. Her lips on his skin remained in the forefront of his mind. For the first time, leaving the colony sounded like a bad idea. His gaze lingered on those lips. What would it be like to kiss another demon?

Damn him. How could he consider making a move on her? Her older brother had been murdered before dawn that day and she’d only just gotten her little brother back. A fling had to be the last thing on her mind.

A female like her deserved more than just a fling, anyway. Did he have it within himself to be a decent companion to a female? A day ago, he’d have spat at the idea. Now, hell, he’d go to a damned etiquette class if that’s what it took to feel her mouth on him again.

He wouldn’t be staying in the colony, however, so why was he even considering this?

“Did you dream about Jac?”

“No. I’ve had the same nightmare for years.” She rubbed her forehead. “I wasn’t dreaming about my brothers. I was dreaming about my mate.”

Mate? Well, fuck. Wasn’t that physically permanent or some shit? “You’re mated?”

“No. It’s just a dream. In it, I’m mated.” She studied the floor, apparently oblivious to his reaction.

“That’s a good thing, yes?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Why?”

“Can we drop it, please?”

“You bit me.”

She dug her fingers through her hair. “Fine. He’s a human, okay? A murderer. An archangel poacher! ” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t imagine why my subconscious would pair me with someone like him.”

He reached out and brushed her mussed hair from her face. “Like you said, it’s just a dream.”

“Sorry, again. That must have stung.”

His gaze settled again on her mouth, on the white curve of her fangs visible past her parted lips. He freed his hand and brushed her lower lip with the tip of his fingers.

Her large, stunning, copper eyes widened. “Jett?”

Blinking, he realized how close he’d leaned toward her face. Their noses nearly touched. Straightening, he cleared his throat. “Would you like some food or something? I’m going to the vending machine.”

“Just some water, thanks. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

He hesitated. She needed more than water after all that had happened today, but it was a start, and it would give him a minute of fresh air to clear his head.

He took the key, shut the door behind him, and walked to the nearby vending machine. In one of the inner pockets of his jacket, he’s saved a few wrinkled dollars from the day he’d fled Thornton’s hellhole. After flattening a couple ones, he bought a water and a soda. God bless the human who’d invented orange soda.

Sighing, he leaned against the machine. Maybe he didn’t need to be in such a rush to leave the colony. After he dealt with Lawrence, what would be the harm in staying for a short time, if he wanted? And asking Lexine out, if he wanted? Share a meal with her, perhaps?

No. Hell, no. He headed back to the room. Him, get the girl? Ridiculous. It’d be better for both of them, and everyone else, if he left the colony as soon as possible and killed Lawrence. Sounds like a plan.

…

Lexine set her feet on the floor but remained sitting on the bed, her body heavy from sleep, her heart a lead weight after the nightmare. The dream, identical each time, showed her such joy. Laughter. Tender and passionate touches. At no point did her dream self fret over her mate’s identity: a poacher .

His face always remained obscured by shadows, but the tattoo on his arm betrayed the truth. That awful depiction of bloody feathers scattered around a sharp blade covered his skin from his shoulder to his elbow. Not that her dream self cared. She covered his entire body with kisses, even that vile tattoo and the odd scars across it.

Her stomach lurched, and she bolted off the bed. She made it to the bathroom and dry heaved.

“Lexine?” Jett called.

“I’m fine.” She stood and rinsed her face in the sink. Jett waited for her in the bedroom with a bottle of water in his hand.

“You don’t sound fine.”

She accepted the bottle and took a long gulp of the cleansing water. “Don’t worry, really. Just my standard post-nightmare freak-out.”

“ Standard? How often does this happen?”

“Every time I sleep.” She sighed and rubbed the spot over her heart. “I don’t know if you know this, but when demons have recurring dreams, they always depict the future.”

He blinked. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s rare.” She took another sip of the water. “But true. I say it’s ‘just a dream,’ but that’s bull. I just don’t understand how I could ever love a heartless killer. I’ll have to turn my back on everyone I care about and leave the colony to have a life with my mate. He’d never be welcome in Sanctuary. Thing is, I do believe love is that powerful. Love overcomes everything.” She drew in a shaky breath. “But right now, I hate him. I hate myself knowing that I’ll one day love him.”

“Lexine.” Jett took a step forward, his gaze steady. “I agree love is powerful. I’ve seen it in action. But nothing trumps free will. If you don’t want him, you can choose.”

“I will love him and be his mate freely. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it.” She sighed. “Sorry. You barely know me, and I’m unloading all of this—”

“It’s fine.” Jett frowned, the expression most intense in his eyes. A shiver ran down her spine. He looked…hurt. She recalled their earlier moment on the bed, when she’d thought he might kiss her. It hadn’t been an accidental lean-in or a trip. He’d seemed entranced. Something deep in her chest clenched. Jett came from a nightmare of a past, but had turned his back on that evil and saved Raphael. He was complicated, but honorable. A good man who would be someone’s loving mate one day.

Lucky tramp.

She worried her lower lip with a fang. After the dreams had started in her late teens, she’d dated with abandon. If she took a demon mate, she’d change her fate, or so she’d hoped. But she hadn’t found love, and though she would have settled for less to escape a future with a poacher, none of the males deserved to be used like that.