To Kill an Angel (Blood Like Poison 3)

“But Bo wanted—”

My snort interrupted him.

“I’l be fine. There’s nothing for you or Bo to worry about.

He’s just a little jealous of the new guy. That’s al ,” I assured him with a rol of my eyes. “Seriously, go by there and let her know you’re alright and then come to Sebastian’s. I gave you directions, right?”

“Yeah, you did, but I don’t know about this, Ridley.”

“Devon, it’l be fine. Just tel Savannah I’l see her tomorrow, after I…you know.”

Devon hesitated, but it didn’t take long for his desire to see Savannah to win out over any reservations he had. He soon agreed and we parted ways.

I let my mind wander the rest of the way to Sebastian’s house. I thought of Devon and Savannah, of Bo and of love.

I kept my thoughts focused on anything other than the building thirst that was gathering like a vicious storm in my throat and chest.

As I approached the front door, the ever-so-slight smel of human blood—Cade’s blood—tickled my nose. It was just a hint of sweetness in the air, but it seemed that al my senses zeroed in on it instantly, ravenous as I was. I knew he was probably asleep in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Al I had to do was make it inside and get behind the locked door of my bedroom.

With my hand on the knob, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, careful to pul it in through my mouth. I held it, counted to ten and then rushed through the front door. As quietly as I could, I closed it behind me and ran back to my room as fast as my legs would carry me.

Once I was in the sanctuary of my temporary bedroom, I turned the lock on the knob and leaned back against the cool wood of the door. I was stil holding my breath, determined to resist the demands of my wayward body. I thought of Mr.

Hearst and of Bo’s last words until I felt like the burning wasn’t going to consume my entire being. Only then did I feel it was safe to move away from the door.

With nothing but time on my hands, I wandered about the room, taking in the details of the furniture, the pictures on the wal s, the draperies that covered no windows. I was in the back corner, the one furthest from the door, when a light knock brought my attention back to the present, back to my struggles.

I turned toward the sound and was immediately slapped with the scrumptious scent of blood, familiar blood—Cade’s blood. I shrank back into the corner and slid to the floor, pushing with my legs until my back was plastered into the V

of the wal . If I could’ve melted into the wood paneling, I would have, anything to get further away from that tantalizing smel .

“Ridley, you need me,” Cade said quietly from the hal way. “I can feel it. Let me in.”

Volcanic flames seared my throat and threatened to burn away al reason and wil power.

“Mr. Hearst. Mr. Hearst,” I whispered aloud, closing my eyes and bringing the odious little man to mind.

“There’s no reason for you to resist me, Ridley. You need me and Bo needs you. You’re helping us al when you drink from me.”

I began to hum to myself, trying desperately to drown out his voice, his perfectly legitimate reasoning and the excruciating thirst that rode me like a cowboy rides a prize bul .

“Go away,” I pushed out through my tightly gritted teeth.

“Why? Ridley, you won’t hurt me and you need to feed.

There’s nothing wrong with giving in to me.”

“Go away!” I shouted more forceful y.

The image of Mr. Hearst began to fade, eclipsed by a fiery red haze that was my need, my most basic urge to nourish my body. The smel of Cade’s blood permeated the air, as if it was oozing through the door, through the wal s, to envelope me in a painful cloud of want.

My breathing picked up, my heart raced, my mind flitted between rational thought and the desire to sink my teeth into Cade’s tender flesh, and al the while I struggled to regain some sense of control.

Desperately, I reached out and grabbed the last thought, the last memory that might give me the strength that I needed to resist, the resolve that I needed to fight. It was the remembered feel of being pressed to Bo’s side, his arm wrapped around my waist, his lips at my ear, and his words.

I don’t want anyone satisfying your hunger but me.

Over and over, I let the images, the feelings, the words replay through my mind like a record skipping back to the same spot again and again. My love and devotion to Bo flooded in like high tide, fil ing my heart and my mind, soothing the agony that I felt in my throat. My thirst and the pain that went with it wasn’t completely eradicated, but for the first time since awakening to a world dominated by bloodlust, I felt like I had a modicum of control.

Slowly, back stil pressed into the corner, I pushed myself to my feet and stood, bravely facing the door and the delicious feast that lay just beyond it.

“Cade, go back to bed. I’l see you in the morning,” I said with a surprising amount of authority and indifference.

“But you—”

“Cade, go! I’l see you in the morning,” I repeated insistently.

I heard him sigh and then take two steps before stopping again. I imagined that he turned back toward the door in indecision.

“Go,” I cal ed, hoping to help him make the right choice.

Another sigh was fol owed by his receding footsteps. The further he got from the door, the easier I breathed. When I heard the squeak of springs in a room above my head, I relaxed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

It was in that position—sitting on the end of the bed, marveling at my control and at the anchor that Bo represented in my struggles, in my life—that Bo found me. I was so distracted that I didn’t smel his tangy scent until he was already standing in the doorway watching me.

Slowly, he stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him. I stood to my feet, but made no move to approach him.

He was ful y visible again, as was the dark of his eyes, eyes that were fil ed with a desire that instantly set my blood on fire. It stirred a passion in me that rivaled his, mirrored it even. It threatened to consume me, but before it could, Bo crossed the room and took me in his arms.

Bo fed me, satisfying my hunger like he’d promised that he would. Secretly, I kept hoping that we would get another glimpse of our life together, a life I couldn’t be sure we’d ever have. I found myself holding onto the images of Bo making love to me someday, out there in an inconceivable future. I squeezed it tight between my fingers and held it close to my chest, desperately afraid I’d never see that day.