Page 52 of Hot Blooded

“Wait,” Fran said, putting a hand on Etta’s arm. “Why are we telling our embarrassing stories when we should be telling Amos’s embarrassing stories?”

Etta’s eyes lit with mischief as Amos stiffened. “Because there’s nothing to tell,” he said firmly.

“Really?” Etta asked in a tone of perfect innocence. “But what about the time you stayed out too late with your new telescope?”

“Aw,” Tessa murmured fondly. That wasn’t embarrassing, it was adorable.

Etta’s attention shifted to Tessa. “He was out in the middle of nowhere in central Illinois when the sun came up. He had to break into a nearby car so he could go into his daysleep in the trunk, where the sun wouldn’t get him—”

“Etta,” Amos growled.

“—and when he woke up, he was in Wichita!”

Etta and Fran descended into delighted cackles while Amos glowered at them.

“Should’ve checked the plates before you broke in,” Fran teased.

“I wasn’t exactly in a position to be choosy about my accommodations,” Amos replied with wounded dignity.

Tessa couldn’t help but giggle. Amos shot her a betrayed look, which only made her giggle harder—which set Etta and Fran off again.

“Ooh, Amos!” Etta sat up, eyes bright with mischief. “What about the time you—”

“Etta, so help me God, I will buy Fran a lifetime supply of Clamato juice if you don’t shut your trap.”

Etta shot him a glare. “You wouldn’t.”

Tessa looked between the two of them, lost. “Uh… what?”

Fran grinned sheepishly. “I have a weakness for the stuff, but Etta hates how it makes my blood taste. I don’t go out of my way to drink it, but if it’s offered…”

Tessa wrinkled her nose. “Of all the things to have a weakness for, yours is Clamato?”

Fran shrugged. “It’s kind of a nostalgia thing. I drank it a lot when I was a kid—it was always in the fridge. My mom said it was healthy. In hindsight, I think she just liked making Bloody Marys with it.”

Tessa tilted her head from side to side, weighing the possibilities. “Maybe it is healthy. I mean, apparently it’ll protect you from vampires.”

Etta and Amos both gave her a wounded look while Fran cracked up.

“So, darling,” Etta said to Amos when Fran had subsided. “When are you going to present Tessa to the Council?”

Amos snarled at her, a sound so sudden and vicious, it was like it had been torn from his throat. Etta hissed back at him, a furious scowl on her face. Tessa stared at them both, shocked and uncertain.

“Hey,” Fran said lightly, “Both of you chill out. You’re freaking Tessa out.”

Their expressions shifted from anger to mortification. Both of them straightened, trying to restore their dignity.

“I apologize, Tessa,” Amos said, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He reached out, taking her hand and squeezing it.

“Yes, please forgive us,” Etta said, the antiquated quality to her accent becoming just a little more prominent as she gave Amos a quelling look. “It’s terribly rude to behave like that in company.”

Amos sighed. “I’m sorry, Etta. It was a defensive reaction.”

She frowned. “Defensive of what? A potential bloodmate has to be approved by the Council before you can claim her.”

“It’s a stupid formality,” Amos argued. “They can’t do anything about it if I claim a bloodmate without their approval. Why would I put Tessa through that pointless dog and pony show?”

Etta’s expression softened. Gently, she said, “Amos, it’s not for your benefit. It’s for hers.”

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