Page 62 of Hot Blooded

Tessa didn’t realize how stiffly Etta had been holding herself until she suddenly relaxed.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“It’s fine,” Etta whispered back. “They just want details about the wolves. There’s not supposed to be any packs near here.”

Tessa listened restlessly as Amos answered the Council’s questions about the werewolf attack, detailing his memory of that night. It lined up with Tessa’s memory exactly—except where his senses had gleaned far more than her mortal ones ever could.

“Very well,” the Councilor finally said, nodding her head. “The Council thanks you for your testimony.”

Amos bowed, and even from this distance, Tessa thought it looked a little sarcastic.

“Since we have you, why don’t you begin the presentations with your prospective bloodmate,” the Councilor asked, a gleam in her eye. Either she’d noted Amos’s sarcasm and it amused her, or something about Tessa’s upcoming presentation amused her. Tessa desperately hoped it was the former.

A second later, Amos was at her side. She accepted his arm and allowed him to lead her through the crowd toward the central aisle. She let herself sink into the feeling of her beautiful gown, of the clicking heels she rarely had reason to wear, and strode up the aisle like a queen. When she stood before the Councilors with Amos, she felt the weight of their stares like prickling insects all over her skin. She resisted the urge to fidget, keeping her posture tall and still.

“What is your name, mortal?” the lead Councilor asked.

“Teresa Vargas.”

“And how old are you, Teresa Vargas?”

“Thirty-three.”

“And do you come here of your own free will?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you wish to be Amos Hansen’s bloodmate?”

Tessa faltered. She hadn’t prepared herself to pour her heart out in front of a massive crowd of undead strangers. “Uh…”

“It’s okay,” Amos said quietly. “You don’t have to—”

“Because he’s the best man I’ve ever met,” Tessa answered firmly. “And I would be honored to be claimed by him.”

Amos’s mouth clapped shut. He stared at her, eyes dark with unspoken emotion.

“Very well,” the Councilor broke into their moment. “To the Council, I ask those in favor to speak now.”

A chorus of voices called, “Yea.”

“And those opposed?”

A single voice replied, “Nay.”

The lead Councilor cast a look down the length of the pulpit. The single opponent was none other than the Andalusian vampire who’d disdained Tessa earlier. Apparently her snark hadn’t been appreciated.

Flicking her gaze back to Amos and Tessa she pronounced, “The ‘yeas’ have it. Amos Hansen, the Council grants its blessing to your bloodbond with Teresa Vargas.”

Chapter 17

By the time they left the Council chamber, there were only a few hours left to the night. Tessa’s earnest declaration was still ringing in his ears. …the best man I ever met. And I would be honored to be claimed by him. He couldn’t help but shoot discreet, speculative glances at her as he turned her words over and over in his mind. Was she ready to accept? If he asked now, would she say yes? He’d promised her before the Council presentation that it didn’t mean she had to accept his claim right away. But how much longer did he have to wait before asking? Etta had courted Fran for a year before asking. Did Amos have to wait that long? Despite his lifespan, a year seemed entirely too long to wait.

He and Tessa walked slowly and nearly aimlessly through the city, gradually and indirectly making their way back to her house. The hemline of Tessa’s beautiful dress fluttered around her feet while the rest clung faithfully to her generous curves, revealing peeks now and then when the lapels of her jacket flapped open in the wind. Her heels clicked crisply against the pavement, a strangely satisfying sound.

“Are your feet sore?” Amos asked.

“Weirdly, no. And you know what else? I used to always have a sore back and heel pain at the end of a shift, but since I started seeing you, that’s gone away.”

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