Page 81 of Bloodhunter

I avoided Clayton’s stare and sat in front of the desk,feeling a little like an unruly student called to the principal’s office.

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked. “A cold drink?”

“No, thanks,” I replied, crossing and uncrossing my arms. Ishifted from one hip to the other, and finally, I slouched in my chair and studiedmy fingernails.

“For pity’s sake,” Miriam said. “Get her a Xanax, Clayton.”

“No, thank you,” I said, when he moved immediately to do asshe’d bid. “What do you want to talk about, Miriam?”

She waved Clayton away and stood, then came to sit in thechair beside me. “Tell me everything.”

I glanced at Clayton, and could feel the heat climbing mycheeks.

She followed my glance, then threw back her head andlaughed. “Oh honey! He has so few pleasures left in life—let him stay. Let himlisten.” She leaned across and grabbed my hand. “He’s not allowed to have sex—noteven with himself. And he’s not allowed the pleasure of another person’s touch.Well,” she amended, “except for mine, and my touches are not pleasing, arethey, Clayton?”

“No,” he answered.

“Do you know,” she continued, her voice a conspiratorialmurmur, “what the absence of touch can do to a person?”

I only realized I was squeezing her fingers too tightly whenshe grimaced, but she didn’t attempt to pull away.

“Don’t, Miriam,” I said. “I don’t like the monster in you.”

She pursed her lips. “When you were attacked by the incubus,and you climbed naked into his arms, you became the first person to touch himsexually, lovingly, or otherwise-ly since I ripped him from his grave.”

“I couldn’t help it,” I muttered.

“Oh, I know that, Trin. If I thought you’d done itdeliberately, why, I’d have scratched out your pretty gray eyes.” She grinned.

She wasn’t joking.

I let my gaze wander to Clayton. He stood without emotion,patient and blank, slender and innocuous, but dangerous nonetheless. It was arestrained danger—restrained by Miriam. I wasn’t sure what kept him fromexploding.

I’d have killed her in her sleep.

“Why do you have him protecting me?” I asked her.

“Why? Because I can. Because you’re a hunter—abloodhunter—and that makes you precious to the supernaturals, Trinity. Huntersare the only ones standing between the hideous vampires and world domination.”She smiled, but something lurked in her eyes. Fear, maybe.

Then she patted my hand. “You look so serious. Tell me astory. Let’s lighten the mood.” She was earnest, her eyes large and sincere,the corners of her mouth turned up in a hopeful smile. “Shane has been afantasy of mine since the day I met him.”

I could understand that, despite the fact that he wasn’texactly my favorite person. There was something about him that went far beyondphysical looks. “How long have you known him?”

She squinted. “Hmm…about, let’s see…ten or eleven yearsnow.”

“How long were you with his brother?”

“Three years. Then I had to kill the son of a bitch.” Herlaughter pealed joyfully, and I wasn’t sure if she were joking or telling ascary truth.

“He was human,” I realized, finally, dryly. “I doubt youkilled him.”

She shrugged. “Let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about youand my sweet Shane.”

“Sweet.” I snorted. “Not even a little bit.”

“I know what happens when new hunters get swept up in theemotion of the fight,” she said. “And the kill. But what is so delicious is thefact that Shane is not new. And he doesn’t like you. But hedidyouanyway.” She leaned toward me, her bright stare devouring my face. “Didn’t he?”

I felt a streak of pity for her. I wasn’t sure why—but itmade me talk, that pity. I gave her what she needed. “After the vampires weredestroyed…” I shook my head, remembering. “I was overflowing with…emotion, Iguess. With passion. It was almost like having the Foam of Aphrodite on mybody. Even worse. There was this need so huge, so extreme, that I couldn’tcontrol myself.”