Page 20 of Hot Blooded

“It’s a shitty situation all around,” another female voice responded. “You did the right thing, girl. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I’m already over it,” Tessa said with a tired laugh. “So, you’re off tomorrow and Wednesday? Got any good plans?”

“Ha, for once, I actually do.”

The sound of the women’s footsteps carried them away from the hospice, towards the train station. Amos couldn’t help but look towards them, hoping for a sight of Tessa. But the light was too blinding for him now. Grimacing, he turned away from it. Crossing the roof, he slipped silently down the side of the building and landed lightly on the pavement. The shadow cast by the building spared him the burn of the rising sun, but it only lasted for a second. He had to step into the open light to cross the street.

Hissing in pain, Amos tried to hunch deeper inside his jacket, but it did him no good. Blistering heat washed over him as smoke curled faintly off his skin. He moved as quickly as he could, keeping to the shadows of trees and houses. He moved unevenly, overwhelmed by the dizzying nausea of fighting his daysleep. Block by excruciating block, he finally made it back to his house. He staggered over the threshold, falling to his knees inside the front entryway. Holding himself up by the doorknob, he shut the door and struggled to lock it.

The skin on his hands was scorched red and raw from the sun. His burning face was likely just as bad, if not worse. With his stomach in his throat, body wracked with tremors, Amos crawled on hands and knees towards the stairs, trying to reach his light-proofed bedroom. He stumbled up the stairs like an arthritic dog. His vision swam in and out. He paused on the landing, retching painfully. His arms gave out and he crashed face-first against the floorboards.

Groaning, he tried to right himself, but he could hardly tell up from down and his muscles refused to participate in the efforts. Amos couldn’t fight it any longer. He curled in on himself and surrendered to the daysleep.

Chapter 6

Monday evening, Tessa was practically vibrating with anticipation as she rode the train towards Amos’s neighborhood. When she reached her stop, the platform was mostly empty except for one guy leaning against a post, jacket hood pulled over his face, hands stuffed into his pockets. As soon as Tessa stepped off the train, he peeled away from the post, coming towards her.

She instinctively recoiled, preparing herself to run for the steps.

“Tessa.” The voice that emerged was raw and ragged, but she recognized the deep rumble.

“Amos? What are you doing here?”

“It’s dark,” he said hoarsely. “I wanted to walk with you.”

Tessa considered him for a moment, eyes narrowed. “Are you guarding me?”

“Yes,” he answered baldly. “I’ll explain why when we’re back at the house.” Despite the tension radiating off of him, his big shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

“Are you okay?” She tried to peer beneath his hood, but he turned away from her.

“I will be,” he answered tiredly. His voice was so rough, Tessa almost winced to hear it. She fell into step beside him and they walked the few blocks to his home in silence. The streets were dark, empty, and totally quiet. Even so, Amos was rigid with alertness. Even with his face hidden beneath his hood, it was obvious that he was carefully scanning their surroundings.

At the top of his front steps, Amos positioned Tessa so that she stood in front of him while he reached around her to unlock the front door. It was like he was shielding her from something, and it made her pulse accelerate with unpleasant nervousness. Inside, she breathed a sigh of relief as Amos shut the door and locked it. She toed her shoes off and slid them against the wall. When she turned to face Amos, she found him leaning against the door, head hanging.

“Amos?” she asked, more worried than she’d been on the street. “Amos, what’s wrong?”

“I’m alright,” he said gruffly. He tried to push away from the door, but fell back against it with a grunt.

Tessa planted herself in front of him. She wasn’t going to take another deflection from him. “Tell me what’s wrong,” she said, reaching for his hood. He stiffened, but didn’t resist. As she pushed his hood back, a gasp escaped her. “Jesus, Amos!”

His face was covered in partial thickness burns—likely deep thickness in some places. She couldn’t say for sure in the dim light. His skin was red and raw, peeling away from wet sores on his cheeks and nose and chin. Small blisters covered the left side of his face from chin to brow. He stared back at her, his pupils blown wide—hunger, pain? She didn’t know.

“This needs to be treated immediately,” she said, gently tilting his jaw so that the blistered skin was angled towards the light. “What happened?”

“I broke our agreement,” he said, complacently submitting to her examination. “I stayed on the hospice’s roof until sunrise.”

Tessa froze. “What? Why?”

“After you went back to work, I came home. I meant to stay home. But my dam came to visit and told me that a very old vampire was recently killed. Over the course of his life, he created thralls—a large number of them. We have no idea how many. The thought of you out there, unprotected, with countless untethered thralls roaming?” He sighed. “I had to make sure you were safe. I’m sorry.”

“Amos…” she said softly.

He lifted his black-eyed gaze to meet hers. With his raw, weeping burns and his blown-out pupils, he looked the part of the monster. But she wasn’t afraid.

“Don’t be sorry. That was kind of you. And possibly very stupid.” She returned her attention to his burns. “This is from sun exposure?”

He nodded, then winced as the motion tugged at the burns on his neck.

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