Every single time.
Still, this was the longest she’d gone without the marks glowing, and I was trying to teach her how to call on the Vampire. Something that could only happen if she took my damn blood.
Her other lessons, though she was weaker than any of us would like, had been a mixed bag. Stefan had managed to make her Succubus leak pheromones—a feat at any other time, but one that had us all walking around with hard-ons that wouldn’t quit for a couple of agonizing hours. Seriously, taking Viagra would have strained our hearts less—and the songs she and Eren had sung while her Lorelei was in charge had put us back a day’s travel.
After accidentally lulling the crew into sleeping for a full eighteen hours, we’d had a hell of a time explainingthat. Only the promise of another ten grand for the rental of the yacht had stopped the captain’s threats of dumping us at the nearest port for daring to ‘endanger’ his crew.
She was getting nowhere with Dre because he was being a dick, and her Hell Hound was more temperamental than even Reed’s, which was truly saying something. Today was her Vampire’s turn, and it looked set to be an epic failure. With thegouilleon track for tomorrow, I could only hope Nestor would succeed in teaching her something where the rest of us, save for Stefan and Eren, had failed.
But though she was weak in some ways, she was strong in others, and through her lesson with Stefan, she’d drawn out his Incubus, had helped him dominate the other souls, cannibalizing them and making him a true Incubus as I was now a true Vampire. Tomorrow, we were hoping she’d do the same with Nestor, meaning she’d have drawn all of us into the natural evolution of graduation.
Years ahead of schedule.
Describing her as ‘strong’ felt like a gross understatement sometimes.
She was incredible.
And she was ours.
I watched her glance around the indoor sitting room we’d claimed as ours while she’d been knocked out, and with her Chosen dotted around, Iknew she found a glimmer of peace from them as the tension in her back lessened, and she stopped standing there like a soldier on parade.
Frazer was lolling against an armchair. Incapable of sitting in it the proper way, he had his legs over the armrest, a drawing pad on his lap as he sketched with a pencil. He was always private as hell with his drawings, but he guarded these like a miser would his treasure. Yesterday, when Eve had asked to look at them, she’d blushed bright red, and I had a feeling they were related to their Claiming—a thought that had my lips curving in amusement.
Eren and Dre were bickering as they played a game of chess. Almost on the mend now, Nestor was still taking it easy from his beating and near-miss with the Ghouls, so he was slouched against the sofa watching a documentary that I was fighting Eve’s focus over because she wanted to watch it too. Stefan, legs crossed at the ankles, had a knife in his hand and he was carving apples so they looked like pinecones. He had a pile of them on the coffee table in front of him, each in various stages of turning brown after exposure to the air. Why he was doing that was a question I wasn’t willing to ask.
Some people watched TV or played chess; others whittled fucking fruit.
Whatever floated your boat.
Reed was in some bizarre position that kind of looked as though he were giving himself head—he was on his back, his feet hooked behind his head, and he’d slotted himself through the gap so he could bring his hands together in a prayer pose.
“How is that even comfortable?” Eve muttered, and I realized she was staring at him too, except her head was tilted as she took in all the bewildering angles of Reed’s body.
“He says it helps him calm down.”
She looked over her shoulder to blink at me. “Does it work?”
I shrugged. “It seems to.”
“Works even better if you don’t talk about me when I’m nearby,” the man himself muttered without opening his eyes.
Eve’s ears turned pink, but she mumbled, “Sorry, Reed.”
His lips twitched. “It’s okay, Eve. You should try it sometime. It might help you.”
“Help me, what? Break a leg?” She shook her head. “It’s okay. I think I’ll?—”
I cocked a brow at her. “Think you’ll…, what?”
“Nothing.”
“You won’t learn control if you don’t try things out.”
She sniffed. “I’d prefer to try yoga than bite you.”
“Why, though?” I demanded, aware that I was huffing and not giving a damn about it either.
“Because it’s weird.”