Page 45 of Afflicted

“You know, I never apologized.”

“For?” He asks, without looking up.

“That day outside the shower block, when I said you're cold and bloodless.”

Silas chuckles low in his throat. “Small scratch now.” He inserts the needle, and I barely feel it. He looks up at me with an almost wicked grin. “Sorry I said I’d get hard enough to make you scream.”

I laugh out loud, and it feels like weights are rolling off my shoulders. “You did say that.”

“I did.”

“Are you actually sorry you said it?” I purse my lips and look him up and down. “Something tells me that when a man like you says something like that to a woman, he means it.”

He draws down his eyebrows, faux anger dancing across his face even though he can’t stop grinning. “Are you asking if I can walk the walk, as well as talk the talk?”

My cheeks flush with heat, I’m sure I’m bright red. “I mean… I didn’t mean…”

He leans closer. “Are you asking what I’m like in bed?”

“Oh god, no.” I shake my head, hoping he doesn’t see me clenching my thighs together. “No, sorry, I was, I was joking.”

He laughs, and holy shit is he gorgeous when he does that. “I know, just like getting a rise out of you.”

“Well, you certainly did that.” I exhale heavily and relax into the seat. “But you also made me laugh, so thank you.”

He gives me a nod, leaning back in the chair, his long legs stretch out in front of him. I marvel once again at just how tall he is, he seems to just go on forever.

“Are you tattooed all over?”

Instantly that grin is back, full of swagger and sass. He runs his tongue over his teeth, and I can just feel the innuendo coming.

“Trying to get me naked now?”

I roll my eyes, trying to mask just how much I’m enjoying myself. “Yeah, absolutely. You’ve seen mine, time for me to see yours, right?”

“Well, if you insist.” He starts to unbutton his khaki shirt, laughing and flashing his fangs when I shriek and cover my eyes. “Since you’re so curious, I’m nothing but ink from the waist up.”

“Well, except for that pretty face.” I gesture with my hand, and he raises his eyebrows, clearly pleased with what I just said.

“You think I’m pretty, do you?”

I roll my eyes. “Stop it, you own a mirror right?”

“Oh well, thanks a lot.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Glad you think I’m pretty.”

“So you’re ink from the waist up. What about from the waist down?” Jesus, what is wrong with me? Why am I flirting with him? I have a boyfriend. This is so wrong. I quickly shake my head, hoping that the question I just asked somehow melts into the ether and he forgets about it.

Instead, the universe sends me a distraction in the form of a loud boom that has everyone in the clinic screaming. We’re tied down with tubes in our arms, it’s not like we can run.

“Hey now, you’re OK, I’ve got you,” Silas says, standing over me, his hands gently squeezing my shoulders. “It’s just a weapons test, really it’s alright.”

“A weapons test?” I realize sweat has broken out on my upper lip, and I’ve grabbed onto his arm with the hand that isn’t strapped down. “What do you mean?”

“Just new charges on the perimeter, they sound scarier than they are, really.”

I gasp for air, focusing on his eyes, on the color. They’re more brown than red, a really pretty rust color. He smiles softly, one thumb stroking down the side of my neck. My whole body relaxes at the touch, and I sigh, trying to regulate my breathing.

“Like a flash-bang, right?”

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