Bast pushed a hand through his hair. Why was she so dogged in her questioning? Didn’t he make it clear? Even if he wanted to turn someone—even her—he simply couldn’t. The Council and its controversial measures aside, he simply didn’t have the physiology. His blood couldn’t initiate the process.

Hybride.

“Maybe. Perhaps they could be convinced. There was a rumor about a woman who’d supposedly received a stay of execution about a year ago. Rumor, though.” He trailed off, trying to remember the details just out of his recollection. Supposedly the woman had been marked for execution but then ended up being mated to the vampire sent to eliminate her instead. The stories surrounding them both were fantastical and difficult to believe.

“Would you think about it then? Maybe consider trying it in the future or at least some way around the Council’s rule?”

“For you?”

She nodded, not looking him in the eyes. His heart clenched.

“You wouldn’t want this life,” he said quietly. They could be lovers for as long as she was willing to stay with him. But as mates...it was an impossible scenario. “It’s not easy and not even remotely glamorous. Books make it seem romantic and erotic. I promise you, it’s not.”

“Don’t make a decision yet. Please. Just...just think about it.”

His gaze narrowed. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Some reason why you want me to consider it? I can promise you so many, many things, but this is beyond me. I’m an officer of the Council. I am bound by blood and by oath to uphold their laws. Even the ones I don’t agree with.”

Alice crossed the aisle to her seat at last, only dropping into it after shrugging on the T-shirt. She continued to avoid his gaze as she worked on getting the seat buckle secured around her waist. “It’s not important.” She looked up, her lips curved into a smile, but he saw the force she used to plaster it there. Immediately, Bast also noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes and the fatigue making her body limp. “I think I’m just looking for an escape, is all.”

He wanted her hands in his at this moment. To hold. To provide comfort. “I wish I could do that for you. I really do. The best I can provide is a temporary reprieve from what you once knew. When we get home, I’m going to tuck you in for a nap because you look exhausted. When you wake up though...”

Her expression changed, a wry grin slowly blooming. “Yes?”

“I promise you sexual oblivion.”

Chapter Thirteen

Bast listened at the door until the rhythm of her breathing changed. After his promise, she tried to argue her way out of being sent to bed, but it only made Bast smile. She’d been yawning through most of the car ride home from the airport, her lids half-drooped. Even the fast food he’d bought for her had barely been consumed because of the way she nodded off after finishing only half. It almost pained him to wake her to make sure she finished, but she needed the pounds and the fuel.

When they met, it would be after her body was energized and ready for his advance. Once he began loving her—and he would take her more than once—there would be no stopping him. He knew her spirit was willing, but he needed her flesh in the same state. It would be hell enough restraining himself from hurting her because of his superior strength.

No, they would wait, and the experience would be that much better for it.

As he turned away and headed toward the back of the house, he pondered his decision. Just over a day ago, Alice had been nothing more than a homeless waif whose existence he overlooked without passion or mercy. Yet not only had she discovered him vulnerable, she’d selflessly cared for him as well. Even after she discovered what he was. Did he feel a sense of obligation toward her? Yes. But there was something more there. Not just the obligation of returning a favor, but also a lethargic kind of attraction.

Lethargic, hell. What compelled him toward her was nothing short of full-frontal assault.

He changed direction to go to the kitchen. There was a disquiet within him and perhaps a good old-fashioned snack of cookies and milk would help calm what ailed him. Of course, it didn’t take a psychiatrist to tell him that the munchies had little to do with food or even blood.




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