Page 32 of Roaring Flames

“Izzy.” His raspy voice is a balm to my bruised and tattered soul.

Tears instinctively spring to my eyes.

“How are you…? What happened? I thought…” I rub at my eyes with the back of my hand and release a slightly hysterical giggle. “How are you here?”

Grayson hesitates, an indecipherable emotion inching across his face, before he says, “They let me go.”

“They let you go? What? God, I’m so confused. What did they even think you did? Why did they take you?” I belatedly realize that I’m still straddling him, my legs on either side of his leanhips and his hands on my waist, but he doesn’t push me away or tell me to get off of him.

If anything, his grip on me tightens until I fear he’ll leave behind finger-shaped bruises.

“Izzy, there’s so much I need to tell you…”

Any hope that Grayson wasn’t aware of the paranormal world evaporates. I can see it in his eyes, hear it in the unsteady thrumming of his heart against my palm.

He knows.

Fuck, he knows.

“About how the supernatural exists?” I ask with feigned nonchalance, watching his reaction carefully. “Like warlocks and witches and shifters and vampires?”

I have the great pleasure of seeing shock splay across his face, quickly followed by disbelief and confusion. His mouth opens, shuts, and then immediately opens again, though he doesn’t release a single word. It seems as if I stole his ability to speak.

“How did you…?” He breaks off and coughs.

Immediately, I reach for the water bottle he always keeps by his bedside table and hand it to him. I make a move to get off of him, but he simply tightens his grip around my waist and pushes himself upright, resting his back against the headboard.

This position brings his crotch flush against my most sensitive area. I can feel how hard he is, even with the barriers of clothing between us.

A lump manifests in my throat, making swallowing impossible, and a wave of dizzying heat rushes through me.

“I know that the supernatural exists,” I say, ignoring…thatthingbetween his legs. Maybe if I don’t focus on it, don’t think about it, it’ll go away. “Someone told me.”

His brows arch downwards over glowering eyes. “Someone told you? And who is that someone?”

I have no idea what the rules are about spilling the beans to humans. The last thing I want to do is get Christian in trouble—or put him in harm’s way. Just the thought sends icy terror careening down my spine.

“It doesn’t matter.” I lick my lips, struggling to find my next words. After a moment of silence, fraught with tension, I blurt out, “Are you…one of them?”

“One of them?”

“You know, a magic person thingy.” I wiggle my fingers in the air to emphasize my point.

A wry grin tugs up the corners of his lips before he stifles it. “I’m not a warlock or a shifter, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh. Thank god. I thought?—”

“I’m a vampire.”

My brain short-circuits.

For the longest time, I’m not sure I heard him correctly. Surely, he can’t mean what I think he means, can he? Because if he means what I think he means, then he’s meaning what he means, and that’s what he can’t mean because it’s what I don’t want him to mean.

And…

Now my brain is broken.

Completely and utterly broken.

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