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I scooted back as he climbed in beside me and pulled the door shut. There was a second of hesitation
on his part where I saw the thought, We shouldn t be doing this, flicker across his face. I pulled my shirt
over my head and grabbed him, smashing my lips across his. He straightened with shock, then relaxed
again, laying me back and covering my body with his.
When he shrugged out of his borrowed T-shirt, I forced every thought from my mind, for better or
worse. We didn t speak, but moved in a strangely easy dance of pulled clothing and hurried kisses on
reachable skin. It wasn t romantic and it wasn t tender. It was fucking, in the most disconnected sense of
the word.
He slipped inside me easily and I gasped involuntarily at how warm and alive he felt. Vampires were
cold, room temperature. He was human. When his hands closed over my hips to pull me harder, faster
against him, they were human hands, not the twisted talons of a monster.
I clutched at his back and shoulders, shocked all the more by the warmth of him. When he spilled into
me I shuddered, but I didn t come. He withdrew immediately, not looking at me.
That was a mistake, he said, his voice hoarse.
I nodded, trying to find my voice. Let s forget it, then.
We dressed silently, feeling dirty and used without really blaming each other. Only when he pushed open
the door to the van and the clean, night air spilled in did I speak.
You asked me what I would see, if the Soul Eater had put me under that spell. What if it had been
you? I asked, and he looked at me, his face grim. What would you be living, if it were you under the
spell?
Fire, he said without hesitation, and my heart twisted at the thought of the girl in the desert. I would
remember fire.
Chapter 22 - Do-Over
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A good, long walk always helped Max clear his head, but for some reason, wandering the streets with
the Soul Eater s goons in town seemed like a bad idea. He d headed downstairs to the shop,
remembering belatedly that Bella was there. So he sat on the steps in the misting rain, paralyzed by the
maelstrom of thoughts whirling around his head.
How could she? He d just finished drugging Nathan for the night when Carrie and Cyrus had stumbled
in, clothes disarrayed, post-sex guilt written over both their faces. It was bad enough that Carrie had
brought that bastard into Nathan s house, but sleeping with him? After what he d done? The very thought
of it made Max feel used. Betrayed.
Oh, other words were hot on the heels of that one. Words like conned and slut and bitch. Then, more
forgiving words. Stressed. Hurting. Confused. He forced those resolutely away. He didn t want to
rationalize her behavior. The cold, hard fact of it was Carrie had fucked her old sire while the new one
lay practically dying in their bed, trapped in his nightmares.
Fine, it wasn t their bed, per se. Nathan and Carrie hadn t really committed to each other, aside from
the blood tie. But in Max s opinion, that was commitment enough.
Even if he wasn t practically dying that had been an exaggeration, and Max hated to
exaggerate Nathan was still out of commission. Every second, Nathan relived the worst night of his life,
a night whose horror Cyrus had taken part in.
Max was a smart man. He could fool himself with anger for only so long before it would inevitably desert
him. When it did, he would have to face the real reason her betrayal bothered him so much.
It mirrored his own.
A light drizzle made the pavement wet. He ducked his head and brushed his palms over his hair, slicking
it back from his face with the rain. It would be morning way too soon. He should be seeking shelter. But
if he went upstairs, Carrie was there, either waiting for Nathan to get better so she could dump him, or
waiting for him to die so she wouldn t have to, and downstairs was Bella.
And temptation. God forbid Max forget that one.
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Whether from a natural attraction or the revulsion between them, Bella made him painfully aware of his
body. She made his blood vibrate in his veins just by speaking. His cock got hard at the sight of her. The
memory of her taste and smell tormented him. Even her weird, canine habits seemed sexy in a disturbing
way. He hadn t slept the last two days because she was too damn there.
In that time, he d barely thought of Marcus.
He had no right to forget. Hell, he had no right to have to remind himself that his own stupid actions had
gotten his sire killed. The image of the girl with the sweet smile and cold eyes flashed through his brain.
As always, the parade of what-ifs followed. What if he d resisted the ridiculous urge to meet her again?
What if he d told Marcus about her before things had gotten out of hand?
No, he knew why he hadn t. Marcus would have told him to end it, whether he d known the girl s true
identity or not. Marcus had loved Max fiercely and far too protectively.
If only Max had realized she d been an assassin. The signs should have been obvious, if he hadn t been
so horny and stupid and young and in love. But now he knew better. Love didn t get you anything, and it
was more trouble than it was worth. Not that he loved Bella, or the bitch that had killed his sire. It just
seemed better to nip the notion in the bud before things went any further.
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