Page 35 of Flock This

“Well, I had to succeed at something.” Goddamn it, Grey!

He curled his lip into a snarl that showed off his fangs, making me really notice them for the first time. Had I ever seen them descended before? No, I was pretty sure he wasn’t the type who lost his temper enough for that to happen.

He moved forward and I expected him to rip my throat out. This was it, after all. I knew it’d come down to this eventually. My death was always going to happen with me at the fangs of something. Either an animal I shouldn’t have tried to pet or, in this case, a vampire I also shouldn’t have tried to pet…

Except, no pain happened. No sinking of those dagger teeth into my neck, no tearing of my flesh. Instead, it was the press of hot, demanding lips to my own.

It surprised me so much I didn’t react. I didn’t shove him away—which I for sure should have—but I didn’t respond either. Kissing a vampire was tricky and altogether stupid, but something about the copper-tinged breath, the wild and angry lips, the way Kelvin’s hand never left my throat had me as docile as a puppy.

Docile? The word alone woke me up, caused my crow to shudder and shriek.

Before I could decide just how to react, the delicious, aggressive kiss ended.

He said nothing, not even sparing me a glance before he turned his back on me. “I have work to do today. Stay here until I return, and don’t even think about causing problems.”

The door slammed behind him, and I found myself whispering back, as mockingly as I could, “Don’t even think about causing problems back.”

I thought I’d gotten away with my tiny act of rebellion until one last bang on the door made me jump, telling me the asshole both had excellent hearing and that I hadn’t escaped notice.

Well, that could have gone better.

* * * *

I might have stared a hole in the wall if I could have. When was the last time I’d stayed put anywhere?

Kelvin hadn’t locked the door—probably because he knew it wouldn’t hold with me inside—and that was likely the only reason I hadn’t left. When I’d twisted the handle to find it open, a tightness in my chest eased.

If he’d have tried to lock me in, I’d have kindly told him to fuck off with my leaving—after stealing everything I could carry that would sell. However, when I found it unlocked, it let me ease the door shut and reconsider my plans.

If Kelvin planned to kill me, he would have already, right? It seemed he’d had a perfect, ‘let’s kill Grey’ moment early. Instead, he’d left me here and said he’d come back.

It felt a little early to celebrate too much, but that was a good sign, right?

I’d spent the day pacing and rifling through Kelvin’s things. The bastard must have hidden anything good, though. I’d found an extra door in his bedroom that looked like a safe. Did he have a closet-sized safe or something?

I could have possibly popped the latch on it, but that might have pushed Kelvin too far. Instead, I kept to less risky places, like his closet, his junk drawer, his medicine cabinet.

His closet had fancy clothing and expensive watches in it. It made me wonder what he kept in the safe if he left that out. His medicine cabinet held nothing in it, not even some basic human items for thralls or women he might invite over. His junk drawer had an absurd number of screws in it, as if he never tossed one in case he found where it went to.

I sat on the edge of his bed, disappointed to find the sheets a normal beige color instead of the black silk I’d imagined when talking to him on the phone. I glanced at the books on the bottom shelf of his end table.

Books about human nature, about body language, about history and war. They seemed very Kelvin, really. On the top of the nightstand was an analog clock, a bottle of water, a lamp, and a romance novel with a scrap of paper inside to save his spot.

All pretty boring, so far. My last shot at something juicy was inside the top drawer, so I pulled that open.

My eyes widened the moment I saw inside, and my cheeks heated.

It was my chance to recognize that in addition to Kelvin being a bloodsucker, he was also still a man. A bottle of lube was there—not full—and condoms. A box of tissues was tucked beside the other items, giving me a clear picture of the use of these items.

I picked up the lube, the front claiming that it caused a lovely cooling, tingling sensation. How would that feel? I tried to picture it, to think whether I’d enjoy it or not.

To be honest, my sex life was all but nonexistent. My crow didn’t care for the trust sex required, which meant I hadn’t done it in…

I couldn’t recall exactly, but it would have required going back well over a year. I had a pretty good libido—like most Spirits—but I took care of it myself for the most part. My last time with a partner had been a disastrous attempt, when my crow had caused problem after problem in protest as I’d tried to ignore it.

I’d found a guy at a bar, hadn’t even traded names, and taken him to a motel across the road. I’d planned to get an orgasm out of it and was willing to risk the bedbugs that might just go with it. Instead, however, the corner of the bed had broken, the sink had started to overflow for no good reason and the final straw had been when a picture had fallen from the wall and struck the poor guy in the back.

“Are you done, or do you want a minute to try that out?”

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