Flesh And Blood: House of Comarre: Book Two (House of Comarre 2) Painter, Kristen (historical books to read txt) 📖

this?’ He brushed his forearm against hers on the way to the instrument panel. ‘This is the fuel gauge.’

She nodded, pulling her arm into her side. ‘Got it. Fuel gauge.’

‘And this’ – he reached around her other side to tap the compass – ‘tells you what direction you’re going.’ Her warmth radiated into his skin from where his chest touched the back of her shoulder. Her pulse sang in his ears, an angel’s voice with a siren’s song. The voices whirled into a frenzy. Drain her, drain her.

His mouth grazed the tender spot beneath her ear before he realized he’d moved.

She stilled. Then jerked away. ‘What are you doing?’

What he wanted to, that’s what. He spun the black leather chair until she faced him, about to tell her the truth of his feelings, even though he wasn’t sure himself. Then he saw guilt in her eyes.

‘Don’t.’ She put her hands up. ‘I have to tell you something.’

The tiniest shard of fear burrowed into his gut. ‘What?’

Her eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. ‘Kissing Creek was my choice. I wanted to kiss him.’

So she’d made her decision. He moved, trying to catch her eyes, but she refused to look at him. ‘It’s because he’s human, isn’t it?’

She shook her head as she lifted it. ‘No. Maybe. I don’t know why. I just wanted to.’ Her chin jutted out defensively. ‘I can kiss whoever I want to.’

‘Yes, you can.’ He pushed off the chair and took a few steps back. His hands shook with the memory of seeing them together. ‘I understand and I’ll leave you alone.’

She lifted her chin farther, her eyes clouding over. ‘What? No. I wasn’t trying to push you away. I just didn’t want you to think Creek had forced himself on me.’ She slipped out of the chair. ‘I don’t want you to leave me alone.’

‘What about Creek?’

She twisted to put her hands on the wheel. ‘I want both of you,’ she whispered. ‘That’s horrible, isn’t it?’ She moved away from the console. ‘I’m done driving. And ready to go home.’

‘It’s not horrible.’ Except for him. ‘I get that things are changing for you. Creek and I will deal with whatever you decide.’ He slid in behind the wheel and adjusted the boat’s speed.

She nodded. ‘Thank you for understanding. I’m going outside for a bit.’

He stared down at the control panel. He didn’t understand at all. But keeping part of her was better than losing all of her. When he looked up, Chrysabelle stood at the railing on the lower deck. Her hair flowed out behind her and the wind molded her white silks against her body. From this distance, the glow about her was soft and ethereal, reminding him of the first time he’d spotted her.

That night at Puncture seemed years ago now. She’d been frightened and looking for help. Not much had changed. She still had plenty to fear, plenty she needed help with. Her life was no better for knowing him.

Once this trip to the Aurelian was done, his curse would be broken. The time would be right for him to move on. Start fresh. Let her do the same.

He stared past her, into the black waters of the Intracoastal. He’d been starting fresh for almost five hundred years. He could do it again.

Up ahead, the dock came into view. At the end of it, Creek stood alone, looking very much like a man with nothing good to report.

‘Doc’s gone.’ Creek shook his head, knowing the news wouldn’t go over well.

Chrysabelle rushed down the gangway. ‘What do you mean he’s gone?’

‘We made the first strike against the hellhounds, but they retreated—’

Mal shook his head. ‘Nothos don’t retreat.’

‘These did.’ Creek ignored Mal’s incredulous look and continued. ‘We tracked them back to Tatiana’s – she’s about an hour from here – then we saw another male vamp stuff a female varcolai into a car and take off with her. Doc said he knew the girl and went after her. I watched Tatiana’s a little longer, but got back to the street in time to see a fringe male throw an unconscious Doc into his trunk and peel off. I came back here as fast as I could.’

Mal cursed. ‘What did the fringe look like?’

‘I only saw him from the back. Short hair with flames carved into it, earrings—’

‘Ronan.’ The word came out of Mal’s mouth like a curse. ‘Head of security at Seven. Or was.’

Chrysabelle turned to Mal. ‘What would he want with Doc? You think he’s going to use him to get back at you?’

‘Get back at you for what?’ Creek asked, already imagining a few things.

‘Ronan and I have never seen eye to eye.’

‘Last time they fought was the night those fringe attacked me and I met you,’ Chrysabelle offered. ‘Mal beat Ronan up pretty badly. He’d want revenge.’

Mal shook his head. ‘Going after Doc isn’t his style. That kind of plan requires more thinking than Ronan has the capacity for.’

Chrysabelle crossed her arms. ‘Then what?’

‘The night we went to see Dominic, Doc talked to him about more than just the dead fringe he’d found.’ Mal shot Creek a look but kept talking. ‘I’m sure it had something to do with Fi. And the conversation didn’t go well.’ He paused. ‘Why was he staying at your house, Chrysabelle? Why would he leave Fi alone?’

Her gaze drifted downward. ‘I asked him if you two were fighting. He said no. He said it was a long story I was better off not knowing. I asked him if it involved Fi. He said yes.’ She looked up, tension playing across her pretty face. ‘Doc’s in trouble, isn’t he?’

Mal nodded, then jerked his thumb at Creek. ‘Where we need to go, he probably shouldn’t come.’

‘You mean Seven?’ Chrysabelle asked. ‘I think they let a few humans in now.’

‘It’s not the human part that concerns me. It’s the slayer part.’

‘He’s going.’ Chrysabelle headed for the house. ‘He’s the only one who saw what Ronan did.’

Mal cursed under his