Page 65 of Hot Blooded

“Nobody angling to get you to invite them inside?”

Fear snaked down her spine. “Not as far as I know. Why?”

Amos let out a sigh. “I don’t like that the thrall keeps hanging around here.”

“You said he’s trying to be by you.”

Amos was quiet for a moment. “I’m worried it’s you,” he finally said.

Tessa’s blood ran cold. “What?”

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into stride with him.

Tessa relaxed against him, accepting his promise. Of course he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Hadn’t he always lived up to his word?

Later that night at work, Tessa was halfway through pushing IV medication for a patient when a sudden realization struck her. She froze, the syringe plunger halfway depressed, as the garbage she’d been finding on the front steps flashed through her mind—jewelry, flowers, candy.

Gifts. They were all gifts—the sort a man gave to a woman he was interested in.

A beep from the infusion pump jarred her back into the present, and she resumed pushing the medication into the port line. She forced her mind back to her work, shunting the thrall and his gifts into a dark corner of her brain where he could be ignored for now.

When she got the time for a lunch break, she texted Amos. By the time she’d changed into her street shoes and walked to the staff entrance, Amos was already waiting at the door, his broad-shouldered silhouette visible through the frosted glass window.

She pushed through the door and threw herself into his arms, fastening her mouth to his in an urgent kiss. Amos held onto her, returning her kiss, but after a moment, he gently coaxed her back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in a low voice. Whose tongue do I have to rip out? was the underlying implication, but Tessa was too wound up to care.

“I’m hungry. Can I tell you over food?”

“Of course.”

Amos took her to a cafe that wasn’t vampire-owned, but was frequented by human bloodmates due to its late hours. Over a muffuletta panini and a hazelnut mocha, Tessa explained her theory about the thrall and the objects left on her porch. Amos listened intently, his expression growing grimmer with each word.

“What are you thinking?” Tessa asked nervously after Amos sat silently, staring in stormy contemplation out the window behind her.

“I’m thinking…” He sighed. “I’m thinking you’re right. He’s fixated on you, and he’s leaving gifts as a courting impulse.”

“Is that bad?”

“It’s not good.”

Tessa set her sandwich down, appetite lost. Amos urged her to eat more, and she tried to, but it was hard to force food down on a churning stomach—especially when all Amos did was glower out the window like a man with a very personal vendetta.

When she’d stomached all she could, Amos walked her back to the hospice. At the staff door, he kissed her like he always did, but this time there was a slightly desperate edge to it.

“Tessa,” he spoke softly, his lips brushing over hers. “I want you to accept my claim.”

Her eyes flew wide. He was finally asking! “Now?” she asked breathlessly. She had to get back to work, and by the time her shift ended, the sun would be up.

“As soon as possible. With this thrall fixated on you, another vampire’s claim is your strongest protection. Even a rogue thrall wouldn’t pursue a claimed bloodmate.”

A wary edge cut into her excitement. “You want to claim me to protect me?”

“Of course,” he said urgently.

All her happiness instantly fizzled, replaced by hurt. She pulled away from him. “No.”

Amos stared at her, jaw clenched, expression stark. “No… forever?”

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