Page 68 of Stone Cold Touch

The cuts frothed white as the sting brought a glaze of tears to my eyes. Finally, the water was all gone, and Roth was backing away. “Stay still for a little while.”

Breathing in and out slowly, I remained where I was until Roth returned with a towel. He was silent as he swiped up the excess liquid along the sides of my stomach. It was then I noticed the tips of his fingers were a deep pink.

I cleared my throat. “You burned your fingers.”

He shrugged. “It happens.” He didn’t touch the claw marks, but as he pulled away, his free hand brushed along the fading scar on my arm, the one left by the Warden. “Keep still.”

I didn’t have to wait long. Roth returned to my side with a black blanket. Like the one he’d wrapped around me the night of Petr’s attack, it was made of some kind of thick, luxurious material. He draped it over my chest, leaving my stomach bare, and then retreated.

“You’re going to need to stay still until the fizzing stops.” He sat on the bench by the piano and bowed his head. Locks of dark hair fell forward, shielding his face. He didn’t say anything else.

I drew in a stunted breath. A quiet, morose Roth was a worrisome Roth, because it was a rarity, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with him when he was like that. Part of me wondered at the mood shift and wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to come off as being interested.

Because I was.

And I sort of wanted to punch myself in the face for that.

As crazy as it was, while I waited for the holy water to do its thing I must have dozed off, because when I blinked my eyes open again, the claw marks were no longer fizzing. I didn’t feel nauseous or dizzy, just a slight soreness around the slices.

And Roth was sitting beside me on the bed.

Well, when I turned my head toward his body heat, he was more reclining on the bed beside me.

Resting his weight on one arm, his head was propped up by his hand. An odd smile marked his eerily beautiful face, a contrast to the sullen expression he was wearing before. His lips parted just slightly. “You still murmur in your sleep.”

My brows knitted.

“You make these little sounds sometimes. Like a kitten. It’s cute.”

“What are you doing?” Heat swamped my cheeks as I sat up quickly. Forgetting about the blanket, it slipped to my waist.

His gaze followed and he grinned as I yanked the blanket back up. “I was watching you sleep.”

“Creepy,” I said, holding the blanket to my chin.

He shrugged one shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Drawing from somewhere deep inside me, I forced out, “Thank you.”

“I’ll add it to your tab.”

I scowled at him.

Rolling to his feet gracefully, he stood and stretched. “Perfect timing for you to wake up. You don’t want Stony coming in here and finding you all content and happy onmybed.”

“What?”

“Stony. He’s on his way.” He folded his arms, eyeing me. “To get you.”

I blinked once and then twice as tiny knots formed in my stomach.

“I used your phone,” he explained. “It was in your front pocket. You were out cold when I pulled it out. Well, you did make this moaning sound that made me think you liked where my fingers—”

“You got my phone out of my pocket and called Zayne?” I shot to my feet. “Are you insane?”

“The last time I checked, I wasn’t. You should be thrilled to know that Stony answered on, like, the first ring.” His lips pursed as a thoughtful expression flickered across his face. “But he wasn’t exactly happy to hear my voice. Or that you were with me. Or that you were currently asleep on my bed. Or that you got hurt. Or that—”

“I get the point!” I screeched, holding the blanket to my chest. “Why did you call him?”

---