Page 27 of For Love and Blood and Fury

They could heal from anything apart from a severed spinal cord or removal of the heart which stopped blood flow to the brain. Elena rarely talked about it, but she’d once mentioned having learned to rip out a throat so that the brainstem came with it. So gross.

Pushing violent images aside, Zuri walked out of the kitchen. Elena was still sitting in the armchair where she and Marisol had dropped her after her shower. It had been a significantly different experience from the last time she’d showered with Elena. With a chair covered in plastic sheeting and three people trying to maneuver in the small space, it was a miracle they hadn’t dropped Elena on her ass.

Zuri still hadn’t gotten over the shock of helping Elena wash her hair. To having to dry her while she looked away and tried to disassociate. Elena hadn’t experienced frailty in centuries and it was obvious that she was just as disturbed by her situation.

“Send me two grand,” Zuri barked when Elena looked up from the book she was definitely pretending to read.

“Have you listed The Gardenia on Airbnb?” Elena joked, using the house’s nickname, but Zuri read the weariness in her eyes.

“I have to pay my groundskeeper not to show up for work.” She stood in front of Elena, arms crossed and looking down at her like every disappointed parent in the world.

“How much does this groundskeeper do for you?” Elena closed the book, wincing when she leaned forward to toss it onto the coffee table.

“He takes excellent care of me,” she replied, letting Elena think whatever she wanted—hoping she felt a flicker of jealousy.

“As soon as you get me a phone, I’m happy to overpay your little helper.”

Zuri tried not to get distracted by the sight of Elena in a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt. She shouldn’t look that goodin Zuri’s clothes when they were too big for her. Hair damp and wavy and tossed to one side, Elena looked too much like she had before. Too much like the woman Zuri had fallen recklessly in love with.

“Damn right you will,” Zuri agreed. “What’s happening? Why do you think you’re not healing?”

Elena shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I’m healing a little bit, but I could be imagining it. The only thing that seems to work is Marisol’s touch, but she doesn’t know how to access her power.”

“Have you tried drinking?” Zuri asked, not wanting to talk about the tall blonde in the bathroom.

“That’s what I was trying when you walked in.”

Zuri laughed. “Yeah, that’s exactly what you were doing.”

“I was,” Elena countered with so much performed indignation that Zuri might have believed her if she wasn’t also smirking with satisfaction.

With an eye roll, Zuri took the ring from her pocket and went to the kitchen. She returned when it was sanitized. “I know the wrist has those small ones you don’t like, but I don’t want to hurt?—”

“Baby, that’s not how I want it and you know it.” Elena looked up at her, eyes wide and entrancing.

“Elena, I can’t sit?—”

“Try.” She leaned back, inviting Zuri to straddle her lap. “I’ve always liked a little pain with my pleasure.”

“This isn’t for you to have a good time, Elena,” Zuri said in her best headmistress tone. hoping it masked how much she wanted to hold her close. To feel the relief of having her in her arms. To believe that Elena was safe in her home after that terrifying attack. That she wasn’t dead like the others were. Should she tell her? She didn’t want to—Elena had been through enough today.

“Are you coming?” Elena quirked a brow. “Or do you want me to beg? I remember how much you like that.” Her voice was low, signaling that she’d already extended her fangs even if Zuri hadn’t seen the points yet.

Slipping the ring onto Elena’s finger, Zuri positioned herself carefully over her lap. Leaning to the other side, she tried to keep off of Elena’s left thigh.

“Really? Not even today? After everything that’s happened?” Elena looked up at her with the saddest puppy eyes. “You won’t let me bite you?”

“Don’t be a greedy ass,” Zuri chided, pulse already creeping up. “Take it or leave it.”

“Gouging me.” She shook her head. “And in my hour of need.”

“I don’t have to give you anything at all, you know.” She rested her arms on Elena’s shoulders as Elena’s hands slid up Zuri’s thighs in a heartbreakingly familiar gesture.

“You just don’t want me to get it from Marisol.” Elena’s callout was too accurate.

“Do you want me or not?” It hadn’t been what Zuri meant to say, and she hated the delight brightening Elena’s polished bronze eyes.

“I always want you,” she replied too seriously, and then she was yanking her V-neck to one side, exposing the side that wasn’t still healing. When the tiny blade bit into the delicate skin of her chest, Zuri gasped.

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