Page 189 of Black Bird

“What’s wrong?”

“I—” He stared at her neck in the mirror. “You’re the first … person I’ve ever sired.”

Sired … made.

Sarah dropped her mouth open. “Oh …” She bit her lip. “Does that mean—”

“It means, now …” he brushed his tongue over the shell of her ear, “you have to do what I say.”

Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes, elbowing him in the ribs, and earning a pained groan through his laugh. “Oh, fuck that. Nope.”

“You have to!” Athan cackled, wrestling with her as she tried to turn around and leave the bathroom. He braced his hands on either side of her against the counter and nipped her neck.

“Stop, you psycho!” Sarah laughed, fighting him off. “Get outta the damn way!”

“Drop the towel … get on your knees.” He lowered his voice into a playful purr against her skin, and before she could come up with a clever retort, she found herself doing exactly what he asked. She had no control over herself and gawked at the zipper on his ripped jeans when she ended up eye-level with it.

“Oh, what the fuck! Are you kidding me?” She whacked him in the thigh, and he cracked, a full-bellied laugh echoing through the bathroom. She’d never heard him laugh like that before, and something inside her melted. He helped her up off the floor, and gently kissed her.

“You’re such an asshole,” she grinned, kissing him back.

“I would never do that to you … so we’re clear.” Athan pulled her close and toyed with the dimples on her lower back with his thumb. While it was playful and made her smile … she couldn’t help but think of the life he must have had seeing to Dahlia’s every desire against his will, and it hurt deeper now than it had when he’d told her about it. It didn’t make her need to slaughter the bitch any easier.

“I know you wouldn’t,” Sarah whispered, kissing his chin. “I hope I wouldn’t need to sireyouto get you to go put some damn clothes on. You’re driving me crazy.”

Athan pressed his lips to her forehead and chuckled. “I’m flattered … but that’s another side effect of being what we are.”

“So … what? I’m gonna be horny all the damn time, now?”

Another adorable laugh.

Damn, this man.

“Essentially.” He grinned. He pulled her towel around her and tucked the corner between her breasts. “Good thing I’m always up for—”

Sarah slapped him in the corded muscle of his bicep, and tried not to think too long on how delicious he looked right now. “Getout!” she laughed. He put his forearm defensively in front of him and giggled the whole way out of the bathroom, grabbing his shirt off the bed and winking on his way to meet Rhaena in the living room. She dressed quickly, using the last of what she’d brought. A pair of high-waisted jeans, and a fitted black turtleneck. Rhaena popped her head over her laptop as Sarah crept into the living room.

“John Allan? Do you know how manyJohn Allansthere are, just in the Boston area alone?” Rhaena barked, shaking her head.

“Morning, Rhae …” Sarah smiled, meeting her eyes. Rhaena’s face softened.

“How are you feeling? You look …beautiful.” Her eyes boggled, looking over every inch. Athan stepped out of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee, smiling as he handed one to Sarah. She took it and nodded at Rhaena.

“I’m—I feel like I could rip somebody apart and not break a sweat.”

“God … I’d ask if you got that violence from him, but I know better.” Rhaena snorted and looked back at her screen. “You might actually be able to kickmyass, now.”

“You wound me.” Sarah snickered, sipping from her mug. She winced, pulling her face away and scrunching it as she swallowed.

“If it tastes like shit, Rhaena made it.” Athan gestured toward Rhaena with his mug.

“Asshat …” Rhaena grumbled under her breath, sipping from her own mug. “Tastes just fine to me.”

It was her vice. Her favorite thing in the world, but somehow … it tasted bitter and unpleasant. It wasn’t at all what she wanted. That notion alone was difficult to grasp. What was even more alarming is what she found herself craving instead. Sarah lowered her mug and looked at Athan.

“Do you … have any bags left?” she asked, noticing Rhaena’s attention dart up from her computer. Athan’s expression flattened, growing more understanding by the second.

“Oh … shit. I’m sorry, Sarah, I didn’t think … yeah, I do.” He took her mug and went back to shuffle around in the kitchen. Sarah glanced at Rhaena as she sat frozen on the leather couch. He came back with the same mug of coffee. It felt a few degrees cooler in her hand.

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