Page 112 of Golden Eagle

“Don’t make me pack mom, okay? I’m not raising a bunch of grown ass men, even if I love you guys.”

He chuckled. “Noted. And, hey, we don’t need a pack mom if we have a pack great-granddaddy, right?”

She chuckled, too. They were okay. It would be alright.

He sobered a moment later, and scanned the parking lot. An employee had come outside to chastise a group of teenagers on skateboards who’d been trying to slide down the metal handrail.

“Hey,” he said, voice softer, when he turned back to her. “Today.” His gaze dropped, and she thought he looked ashamed. “How’d you know just what to say? When I was…you know…” He made a vague gesture with his hand, smoke ribbons trailing off into the night.

“I finally got out of my own way.”

His brows drew together.

“I know Lanny the Human really well. We’re like this.” She held up crossed fingers. “But I’ve been acting like there isn’t also a Lanny the Vampire.”

“You think I have split personalities?”

“I think being a vampire is a lot more complicated than needing to drink a little blood. No, I don’t think, Iknowthat. I just wasn’t treating you like I did.”

“Are you afraid of me?” He sounded distressed. His cigarette smoldered, forgotten, between two fingers. “Shit, I knew this would–”

“No. Never.” When he stared at her, frowning, she said, “Okay, okay. You spooked me yesterday. That whole chasing-me-down-the-stairs thing.”

He made a low sound of disgust – disgust in himself, judging by his expression – and shook his head. “I didn’t mean to – shit, listen to me. Every piece of shit we bag for killing his wife always says ‘I didn’t mean to.’” He rubbed his free hand over his face, eyes squeezing shut. “I’m–”

“No.” She put her hand on his shoulder; he was all solid muscle and bone and strength, but he trembled beneath her touch. Ashamed, and afraid, and embarrassed, and worried about his own self-control.

She ached for him.

“Lanny,” she murmured, shifting in closer. Probably everyone in the car could hear, and she didn’t care, but Lanny might. “Listen to me: you are not that. You will never be that.”

He wouldn’t look at her.

“I freaked out a little. And you freaked out a little. You’re still figuring out what it means to have all these new instincts. You got kinda possessive, yeah. And today, you were really scared for me. But I know you won’t ever hurt me. That’s not you. Lanny.” She gave him a light shake, for all the good it did; it was like trying to shake a tank. “That’s not you. Whatever happens, I’m never going to be worried about that.”

His hand dropped to his side, and he finally lifted his gaze to hers, utterly dejected. “I’m sorry,” he said miserably.

She pressed their foreheads together, and he took a shaky breath. “I accept your apology.”

“I might have to apologize a lot.”

“I woulda figured that even if you’d stayed human.”

He huffed a laugh. “I’m an asshole.”

“Like I didn’t know that before.”

“I’ve got a mean streak. I like to fight.”

“Really? I thought you were a boxer because you liked the shiny shorts.”

He butted his forehead feather-light against hers. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. I’ve got a mean streak, too. Part Chekist, part sniper, remember?”

“Hmm.”

They stood a moment, touching, sharing breath. Deep breaths, trying to find their way back to even footing.

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