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I really needed to cultivate a survival instinct. Usually, I knew how to handle myself. I lived in a major city. I knew how to recognize danger. But now I was acting like nothing had happened.
I needed her to stop doing interesting things with her mouth. It was giving me ideas. Bad ideas. Very, very bad ideas. Ideas we would both thoroughly enjoy.
“You’re all so good-looking,” she blurted out. “That’s what you noticed?” Humanity was doomed.
My eyes narrowed, but I stalked toward the door. Not only was this tiny mortal not afraid of me, but she was also giving me orders.
“Hangry?” “Hungry and angry,” she explained. “You really have a lot to catch up on.” “Yes, I can’t wait to learn all the ways humanity has butchered the English language.”
then, strangely, the music. There was something that hung on him that I’d only ever known when I was playing my cello or listening to music.
I kissed her until the powdery scent of flowers transformed into a garden at midnight. Jasmine washed in wood smoke. Rose blossoms laced with absinthe. Every vivid color met a million shades of black. She bloomed in my arms as I wrapped her in my darkness.
I wanted to make him feel as good as he had just made me. I wanted to cool the fire that blazed in our veins.
