Page 26 of Cuddling Sucks in Coffins
“Fuck, you’re right.” He glanced at the trash bag flapping loose from the window above the bottom of the stairs and then at the open door. No way he could try to keep both closed at once without the sun hitting him. With a growl, he tipped over the coffin, dumped Appelt out, and then righted it once again. “Get in.”
“That is not the way to treat the dead.” Shaking my head, I clambered in.
“But staking them through the heart is?” He climbed in and pulled the lid on top of us, nearly crushing my fingers still on the ledge.
“When the dead want to suck people’s faces off, then yes. It is.” I gasped. “Wait!”
He paused the lid’s descent.
“Areyougoing to suck my face off?” I hissed. “I’m bleeding.”
“Not much.”
“I was shot.”
“That black vest poking from your shirt probably dented your skin. The fuck if I know. I don’t smell much blood. I just smellyou,and it’s awful.”
The lid slammed down. Complete darkness crowded out everything, including the air from my lungs. I shallowed my breaths as panic set in and blared alarms through my head. Inside or outside this coffin, I was doomed if I didn’t do something fast. I ripped away the silk lining of the inside of the casket and drilled my fingers through the wood and stone for air. Without my slayer power, though, I didn’t have the strength. I shoved at the lid, jabbing my elbow into Ronick’s side.
He groaned. “Relax, Slayer. I made several air holes. Breathe easy.”
He had? When? Was this a trick to get rid of me? But no. He wasn’t under Paul’s influence. He needed my help to find Jacek.
I took a tentative breath, and then another, tasting the air before it filled my lungs to see if it was fresh. Or as fresh as it could be inside a stale coffin.
“For fuck’s sake, do you ever bathe? You reek of fear and piss.”
Not like desire and sunshine like I smelled to my vamps. My heart squeezed for them and for what I’d done. For being stuck inside a coffin with someone who wanted to kill Jacek. If I walked out of here alive, I prayed they forgave me and would be mine once again. My three beautiful vamps who cared about me. Not Paul’s vessels who wanted me dead.
Chapter Eight
Somehow, while lyinginside a hot, musty coffin next to a chronically pissed-off vampire, I dozed. It was the horrific pain in my back that woke me, so intense that I ground my teeth together to keep from screaming. Whether I’d been shot or not, it hurt like a motherfucker.
Ronick lay motionless beside me, either asleep or counting bats to fall asleep. Good thing he sucked at cuddling. Between my marinated-in-pee stink, my messed-up back, our confined sleeping arrangements, and his unjust life goals, I would’ve staked him on the spot if he’d tried anything, the Senate’s location be damned.
I had no idea what time it was, but I couldn’t stay here any longer. With my palms pressed against the heavy stone lid, I shoved until my muscles shook. I’d grown too accustomed to slayer strength and hadn’t spent much time exercising my arms on purpose outside of my self-taught training. That would obviously need to change if I couldn’t get my powers back.
