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“She’s too busy taking care of herself to take care of anyone else, you said. That’s about the best description of Christy I’ve ever heard. You? You are too busy taking care of everyone else to take care of yourself.”
Adam made a man sound that could have meant anything, but I took it to mean that we were okay again.
face? I wasn’t beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, so I certainly hadn’t expected the pang I felt knowing I’d bear Guayota’s mark the rest of my life.
Adam’s voice slid into my head like warm honey. I’d never told him how much I liked it, because, like telling him how sexy it was when he did sit-ups when I could see his bare stomach, it could never be unsaid. He had enough power over me already. He didn’t need to know how weak I was.
“You like my body,” he told me, “you like me sweaty, and watching my belly when I do sit-ups.” “Hey,” I said, trying for indignation, “I never told you that.” He laughed again. “Sweetheart, you tell me that every time you can’t look away, and you know it. But”—he laughed again, then said, in that deep growly voice that was his own personal secret weapon—“you really like it when I talk to you, like this.” “No door,” I squeaked.
“Don’t do that again,” he said. “My heart can’t take it.” “I didn’t intend to do it the first time,”
“I’ll certainly try not to wander off with Coyote again without your knowing about it. But ‘try’ is all I’ve got,”
“No. I’ll drool and snore on you, too. The one thing that is not going to happen is you visiting the court jester of the evil undead alone.”
I turned around to stick my tongue out at Adam. “Don’t point that at me unless you are going to use it,” he said.
“Guayota is our enemy. He is not our enemy because he hurt one of our own, though he has. He is not our enemy because he violates our territory, though that is also true. He is not our enemy because he attacked my mate. He is not even our enemy because he is evil. He is our enemy because he kills those who cannot protect themselves against him. Because he will not stop until someone stops him.”
I only wanted one heartbeat in my ear. Adam’s.
“I’m dreaming,” I said flatly. “You’re dying,”
“You are so stoned, baby,” he said. “Am I fried?” I asked. “What?” He rolled his head a little so he could see my face. “Burned like a crispy steak,” I clarified. “No. Not as bad as it could have been.”
“Coyote said I was dying,” I told him. “And Christy wanted me to.”
