Page 23 of Guardians for the Vamp
You know what? Fuck bad ideas.
I need this.
I can worry about my rules tomorrow.
The cake show is better than I expected and most of the time, I couldn’t tell what was real and what was cake. When the second episode starts playing, Layla’s eyes begin to droop. I unfurl my wings and wrap them around her. She burrows deeper into my side and within minutes, she’s asleep.
I carefully lift her off the couch and carry her to the main bedroom at the back. The sun is rising, and her UV protection shades lower. I tuck her in and when I walk away, she says my name.
“Thank you for staying.”
She falls back asleep and despite how badly I want to crawl into bed with her, I force myself to walk down the hallway to a guest bedroom.
I dream about Layla.
And Vara.
Chapter 6 – Layla
Iwake up a few minutes after sunset to a note from Thorne letting me know he had to grab some things from his place. He’d told me there were three available units in my building, and he’ll be moving into one of them so he can stay close to me.
But not too close.
Whatever.
I understand. He has a job. No distractions. No bad ideas.
It’s not like I need a guard staying in my penthouse with me anyway. Millie never had that when she was queen. Thorne said it’s a precaution because of the unification plan.
I think he’s being overprotective.
But I kinda like it.
When he returns, I’ve already fed on a donor and dressed for the night.
“Ready to go?” I ask when I walk out of my bedroom and into the living area where Thorne is standing, looking out the window while talking on his phone.
He turns at my voice and stumbles over his words. I’m not even paying attention to what he’s saying, because all I care about is how his eyes rake over my body. How his tail whips back and forth behind him, his wings fluttering from their position against his back.
It’s amazing how gargoyle wings work. They’re known to have a ten-foot spread. Yet when Thorne’s are flush against his back, they seem so small, likely to stay out of the way when not in use.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Thorne says, ending his call. He stuffs the phone in his pants pocket.
“Ready to go?” I repeat, only this time the words come out breathy… a whisper.
Thorne stalks toward me, stopping just a foot away. I fight the urge to reach out for him.
“You look beautiful,” he says, checking me out again.
I’m wearing a black sleeveless blouse that has a dipped neckline, tucked into my white high waist trousers.
He lifts his hand, then stops after realizing what he’s doing.
“Don’t stop,” I beg.
He lifts it again to palm my cheek. I close my eyes and lean into his touch. It’s so warm. Burning, almost. I don’t think that has anything to do with me being undead with cold skin. Gargoyles must run hotter. Thorne is like a furnace and all I want to do is hold him, cuddle with him. He reminds me of when I was human, and I’d sit in front of the fireplace on a snowy night while reading a beautiful love story.
But before I can enjoy this moment, Thorne drops his hand and curses, turning away from me.
