Flesh and Blood

Chapter Twenty-nine

Mal adjusted the Heliotrope’s speed down to a crawl. By now, Creek and Doc had probably fought off the Nothos. Or had died trying. What had Doc been doing at Chrysabelle’s house anyway? Maybe she’s kissing him, too.

‘I think we’re far enough out. I can’t even see the house.’ Chrysabelle had stayed quiet while Mal piloted her mother’s yacht through the waters of the Intracoastal, but now she kicked her feet up onto the leather sectional. ‘You could have let Creek drive the boat and gone after the Nothos yourself.’

He grunted in response. Did she really prefer Creek? The voices cheered as his stomach sank. She wants him, not you. Good riddance.

‘Or I could have fought alongside all of you.’

Yes, because the last time she’d faced the Nothos, she’d done so well.

‘Of course, I realize because of our deal you have a stake in my protection.’

That wasn’t the only reason. Should he tell her how he felt? How could he when he wasn’t even sure. Liar. Fool. Coward.

‘How’d you learn to drive a boat like this anyway?’

‘You pick up a lot in five hundred years.’

‘Oh good. For a moment I thought you’d gone mute.’ She jumped up and walked toward the control panel, where he stood between the wheel and the captain’s chair. She reached for a red button. ‘What’s this do?’

He grabbed her hand before she made contact with the distress locator. ‘Not that one.’

‘You feel a little cold. Time to feed soon.’

He let her hand go as his fangs shot down. Not the proper response. Especially when she’d made her choice and it hadn’t been him. Never will be you. ‘I’m good.’ He backed away, needing distance. ‘Take the wheel.’

‘And do what?’ The narrowest ribbon of panic curled through her voice.

‘Just hold it steady.’ He stayed far enough away that her perfume didn’t wind around him like the serpent that had beguiled Eve. Why had he thought being in a confined space with her was a good idea? Close enough to bite. To drink. To drain. She’d probably get bored and head out to the deck any minute.

Instead, she grabbed the wheel. ‘You should teach me to drive in case I ever need to.’

A second later he was behind her.

She jumped, backing into him, then pulling away just as fast. ‘I hate when you do that.’

Was it him that made her jumpy? Someone with her experience with vampires should be used to the speed at which they moved. Or maybe his closeness bothered her because she wasn’t entirely sure Creek was the right choice. From his spot behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her into the captain’s chair, then planted his hands on the armrests. He leaned in and almost sniffed the curve of her neck. Almost. The whining in his head kicked up a notch.

‘See this?’ He brushed his forearm against hers on the way to the instrument panel. ‘This is the fuel gauge.’

She nodded, pulling her arm into her side. ‘Got it. Fuel gauge.’

‘And this’ – he reached around her other side to tap the compass – ‘tells you what direction you’re going.’ Her warmth radiated into his skin from where his chest touched the back of her shoulder. Her pulse sang in his ears, an angel’s voice with a siren’s song. The voices whirled into a frenzy. Drain her, drain her.

His mouth grazed the tender spot beneath her ear before he realized he’d moved.

She stilled. Then jerked away. ‘What are you doing?’

What he wanted to, that’s what. He spun the black leather chair until she faced him, about to tell her the truth of his feelings, even though he wasn’t sure himself. Then he saw guilt in her eyes.

‘Don’t.’ She put her hands up. ‘I have to tell you something.’

The tiniest shard of fear burrowed into his gut. ‘What?’

Her eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. ‘Kissing Creek was my choice. I wanted to kiss him.’

So she’d made her decision. He moved, trying to catch her eyes, but she refused to look at him. ‘It’s because he’s human, isn’t it?’

She shook her head as she lifted it. ‘No. Maybe. I don’t know why. I just wanted to.’ Her chin jutted out defensively. ‘I can kiss whoever I want to.’

‘Yes, you can.’ He pushed off the chair and took a few steps back. His hands shook with the memory of seeing them together. ‘I understand and I’ll leave you alone.’

She lifted her chin farther, her eyes clouding over. ‘What? No. I wasn’t trying to push you away. I just didn’t want you to think Creek had forced himself on me.’ She slipped out of the chair. ‘I don’t want you to leave me alone.’

‘What about Creek?’

She twisted to put her hands on the wheel. ‘I want both of you,’ she whispered. ‘That’s horrible, isn’t it?’ She moved away from the console. ‘I’m done driving. And ready to go home.’

‘It’s not horrible.’ Except for him. ‘I get that things are changing for you. Creek and I will deal with whatever you decide.’ He slid in behind the wheel and adjusted the boat’s speed.

She nodded. ‘Thank you for understanding. I’m going outside for a bit.’

He stared down at the control panel. He didn’t understand at all. But keeping part of her was better than losing all of her. When he looked up, Chrysabelle stood at the railing on the lower deck. Her hair flowed out behind her and the wind molded her white silks against her body. From this distance, the glow about her was soft and ethereal, reminding him of the first time he’d spotted her. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">