Page 55 of The Lunatics

“Do you think he had help? That there were more of them?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“He felt wrong to me, Michael. The witch said she didn’t feel him until he was right on top of her, but I couldn’t feel him at all. Even when I focused my power on him. It was like he wasn’t there. Like he’d been cloaked.”

“He’d need a witch’s aid for that. You saw them tonight. They loathe each other. A witch would never stoop to helping a vampire. Not even if she’d been exiled from the coven.”

“What if they forced her to? They could be holding one captive and making her cast the cloaking spell. There could be more vampires hiding in your territory.”

His expression turned contemplative. “I’ll make some phone calls. We may be close to war, but we still have intelligence sharing avenues open. If the witches are missing one of their own and think she’s being used in such a way, they’ll handle it.”

“Why not help them?” I asked. “Why not try to stop all this infighting and instead make an alliance with them against the vampires? Witches might be obnoxious, but they’re not monsters.”

He turned to regard me from inches away. “You only say that because you haven’t been around them long enough to learn better. Don’t underestimate them. And never trust them. They’ve done things to my family and our people that would make what we did tonight seem like child’s play.”

A tingle ran down my spine. “Like what?”

“I think you’ve suffered enough shocks tonight. Tomorrow, if you still want to know, I’ll tell you the stories.”

A few minutes later, I managed to haul myself up off the ground. Michael remained nearby while I showered. I didn’t ask him to, and he didn’t offer, but I felt him lingering outside the door, waiting, ready if I needed him. After I cleaned myself up, he coaxed me into eating. The food tasted like ash, but I choked it down. I’d burned through a lot of calories shifting parts of myself, and I needed to replenish them if I didn’t want to look half-starved come morning.

We said good night outside my bedroom door. I woke several hours later, crying. I’d dreamed of the vampire. What he’d been like as a human. My subconscious, intent on torturing me, had given him a nice, happy, normal life. Had humanized him even in his vampirehood. And then it had me kill him in cold blood in the middle of a crowded street like some sort of deranged assassin while his family screamed nearby.

Michael was there when I woke up, standing next to my bed. I reached out and latched onto his hand as I sobbed, and he sat, carefully, on the very edge of my mattress until I fell back asleep.

CHAPTER 12

Iwoke to the shrill ringing of a phone. It came from outside my bedroom. There was a frustrated growl and then the sound cut off. The closer I climbed to full consciousness, the more aware I became of Michael. Our bond opened up on the gnawing pit of his irritation. If he kept this up, he was going to give me an ulcer.

I rolled free from the tangled sheets and stumbled through the door in nothing but a tank and underwear. I’d never worried about being half dressed before and I’d be damned if I’d let it get to me now.

Michael stood in the kitchen. He wore sweatpants and no shirt, and I quickly checked him over, looking for signs of last night’s fight. He’d healed cleanly. The tattoos that covered his back were slightly lighter in color than they had been yesterday, his body burning through the ink because of our increased regeneration. How often did he have to get them touched up? Or did he let them fade completely only to replace them with something else? The runes looked vaguely familiar up close. A spell?

His phone rang again. He declined the call and flicked it to silent.

“Let me guess, your mother?”

“My mother,” he said. “I informed her of our altercation last night and passed on our concerns about the vampire being cloaked.”

“Via text or a phone call?”

He sent me a look. “Phone call. I’m not a heathen.”

I grinned, beelining for the coffeemaker. “How’d she take the news?”

“Quite well, all things considered. She only snarled twice.”

I finished getting my coffee and sat at the island. “Did you pass the news on to the witches, too, or are you letting her do that?”

“That responsibility falls to the alpha,” he answered, toeing the party line.

“Do you trust her to do it?”

He nodded. “If only because she likes rubbing the witches’ faces in their own messes.”

I tackedvindictiveonto the list of adjectives to describe his mother, and then considered adding a shot of booze to my coffee. If the day started like this, it might not be a bad idea to face the rest of it with a buzz.

Michael pulled out a barstool and sat beside me. “How are you feeling this morning?”