Page 22 of Make Me Bleed

I peer over at the two vampires again. They’re whispering to each other, only this time they’ve dropped their voices so far, I can’t make out a sound.

That irks me.

Sensing my unease, Bridget bumps my bicep with the point of her elbow. “Hey. You okay?”

I’m not sure. I can’t shake the feeling that they’re here because of me—and I don’t like it.

If I tell Bridget that, though, she’ll go over there and ask them what they’re talking about. As impulsive as the witch can be, she’ll do it, and think twice about barging in a pair of vampires’ private conversation later.

Since I don’t want that, I decide to turn the conversation around on her. “Hey, where’s Conall?”

She sighs, momentarily forgetting about what’s bothering me in favor of what’s botheringher.“In wolf mode.”

Ah. “Patrolling again?”

That’s what Conall does. He has this compulsive need to make sure that the borders are secure. He’s still beating himself up over how close the witch hunter got to Bridget, and wheneverhe feels like security is lax, he shifts to his wolf and goes searching for some sign that we have a threat lurking near Dyea.

“This isn’t because of Hank, is it?”

“Nah. If it was, he wouldn’t be so anal about doing his patrols. If the bear comes back, we’ll all know why.”If… “No. It’s something else.”

A prickle of nervous hits the base of my neck. “What do you mean?”

She sighs. “He thought he sensed someone testing the boundary spell.”

Oh, no. “Another witch hunter?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. He says the scent was faith, but definitely human. Witch hunters… they’re human.” Bridget sinks back into her seat. “I know what’s he’s doing. He’s trying to keep me safe. I just wish he’d hurry back so I knowhe’s safe.”

I know what she means. Conall might not have gotten over the last witch hunter, but neither has Bridge. Her wolf managed to heal the gash in his side left behind from Linda’s silver knife. Doesn’t matter. Bridget’s concerned something like that will happen again, and I don’t blame her.

Her voice does turn slightly teasing as she grins at me. “Know what? You better get used to it, too. This is how shifters are with their mates and you landed yourself abear.”

I know she’s just trying to take her mind off of worrying for her mate by mentioning the male he’s possibly mine. Still, without thinking, I say, “I don’t mind being protected. Not really. I guess it’s because Iamused to it.”

It’s the truth. Of course it is. But also… it isn’t just protection that I want. Guaranteed safety. No… I want someone to love me for me. To adore me. To be someone’s everything. Someone who wants to shield me, not because it’s their duty, but because they can’t fathom the idea of living without me. Because I’m the most important person in their entire world.

It hits me then: if I left him, that’s what Hank would offer me. After all, he’s my beloved. The one male meant for me.

I’m his mate. The female he’s waited for… and who isn’t sure how to bridge the gap she’s built between the two of us.

However, before I can dwell too deeply on my sudden realization, Gertrude lets out a grunt of satisfaction. She calls for Clive to get the lights again, the movie finally starting.

A distraction. That’s what I need. A distraction?—

The air shifts. Despite the muted darkness of the room, I can tell that the two seats at the end of our row are empty now.

The two vampires are gone, and I spend the next hour and a half alternating between using the movie as a distraction… and wondering what the two females are up to.

I can’t sleep.

That is a recent development. At least, here in Alaska it is. Back in Clarity, I would go through stretches of insomnia whenever Peter would lurk outside the Sanguine. I could sense him, feel his brokenness reaching for me all those stories up, wishing I could figure out a way to get him to leave me alone.

I had to disappear completely across the country to escape the weight of his obsession. Even when the thirst was at its worst, sleep came easy. I used that as another escape, a way to avoid the ache that came with surviving without blood.

Now, whenever I try, I inevitably dream of a sexy male with dark hair, honey-colored eyes, and a cheek smile, crooking a massive claw on an oversized paw, gesturing for me to join him in the darkness…

What makes it even harder to handle is something that happened earlier today. Nearly a week and a half since he walkedaway from me. I’d accepted during the movie a couple of days ago that I would have to make a move, one way or another. Then… I didn’t.

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