Page 23 of The Vampire's Mate

“You’re doing it right now!”

“Well, I’m the boss. I can do what I want.”

Shiloh brought us out of our little bubble by brushing past us with a bucket of dishes in their hands. “You two are disgustingly cute.”

James laughed. “Hear that, love? We’redisgustinglycute.” I turned, and his hands cupped my cheeks. He swooped in, planting a passionate kiss on my lips that left me dizzy and breathless.

And then he vanished.

I was still staring at the spot he’d occupied when Shi came back into the room with cleaning supplies. They snickered. “You all right there?

I blinked. “Uh, yeah. Fine.”

“You sure? Because you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Nah, just a vampire.

Chapter 8

I went home alonethat night. James insisted he had things to do, but I knew it was because he didn’t trust himself to keep his hands off me. I was dead on my feet, and I needed sleep.

When I got home, though, I found a familiar car in my driveway: it belonged to Kian, Hannah’s boyfriend. When Dani attacked me last year, it was his brother who saved me—Luke, who was also part of the team of hunters responsible for our woes last year. After he betrayed them by releasing me from my bindings, he made me promise to take care of Kian.

Until now, Kian hadn’t come to me on his own.

Assuming the worst, I rushed through the front door. I wasnotprepared for the sight I walked into.

All the lights were off, save for the soft glow of the TV. I glanced around the room as I entered, unable to keep from smiling at the image in front of me. Kian was spread out on the couch, still dressed in his work uniform. He was fast asleep, Carlos—who was also dead to the world—snuggled under his arm. Or rather, he pretended to be snoozing. The twitch of his ears informed me that he was aware of my presence, but apparently I wasn’t important enough for him to open his eyes. At least, not until I approached the couch. Then I got a warning glare that said, “Don’t you take my big spoon away from me.”

I hesitated to wake Kian. He looked so peaceful, and the last year had been hard on him, to say the least. Despite him being a decade-plus younger than me, that couch did no one’s back any favors.

Kneeling in front of him, I softly touched his shoulder. He stirred, his arm protectively tightening around Carlos as he gathered his bearings.

“Hey. What’s up?” I asked.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pushing himself into a sitting position. He yawned, messy hair standing on end. He’d cut it shorter in the last year, the dark, messy mop falling away to highlight the lighter hair beneath. “I didn’t plan on falling asleep.”

“It’s almost four in the morning; you don’t need to be sorry for sleeping.” I dodged an attack from Carlos’s tongue. “What’re you doing here? Is Hannah okay?”

In that moment, Kian looked more like a kid than his twenty-one years. He didn’t meet my gaze, instead focusing on the silent TV. I could almost see the emotions flickering behind his hazel eyes. They glossed over, then he shut them. His throat worked as he swallowed, and the mask was back when he looked at me again. “Things have been hard since Luke left. And I don’t want to worry Hannah. I guess I could use someone to talk to.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” I suggested. “We can talk over breakfast tomorrow. Or… later today, I guess.”

“I’d really like that.”

My hand stopped him as he tried to lie back on the couch again. “Go get in Hannah’s bed.”

Kian shook his head. “That’s hers.”

“A, she’s not in it right now. And b, you’re her boyfriend. I assume if she had a problem with you in her bed, we’d know.”

“The entire state of Massachusetts would know.”

I snorted, patting him on the knee and getting to my feet. “How many days in a row have you worked?” Kian thought over his answer, taking a little too long. “That’s what I thought. Go to bed.”

“Can Carlos stay with me?” he asked, following me down the hallway. “He’s warm.”

I stopped in my bedroom to grab a pair of sweats for Kian to sleep in, then handed them over before he disappeared into the spare room. “Sure, but don’t let him get used to it—he forgets whose house this actually is.”

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