His fingertips skimmed against the outside of my calves, then my thighs, tracing a scalding trail. The scent of him was thick enough to choke on and only made me feel sicker than I had been in the shower.
He repeated the process with the jeans and then stood, carefully doing up the zipper and button for me. His voice, when he spoke, was cold and unmoved, though there was something under the surface that I wished I couldn’t smell on him.
“Is there a bra? There’s only the shirt here.”
Desperately avoiding his eyes, I swallowed. Hard. “No. I don’t think... no.”
With a detached nod, he reached for the shirt. As gentle as he’d been dealing with the rest, he helped tug it on over my head and maneuver my arms until I was able to tug it down myself over my breasts and stomach. Only then was I able to look at him. He was staring at my chest as though he was still seeing what was under the cloth.
He said something, but I was too rattled to get it right off. “Excuse me?”
“You need socks? Or are we done here?”
“We’re done.” I’d scream if he touched me again.
Without another word, he turned and walked back to the door. As much as it hurt to think the thought, let alone say it aloud, I opened my mouth.
“Wait.”
Hand on the knob, he looked over his shoulder at me. There was no warmth there. No desire in the way he looked at me, though I could smell it as strongly as the apple-scented shampoo I’d dumped in my hair.
“Chaz, I—thank you.”
That forbidding expression remained, his blue eyes gleaming with whatever plans were roiling through that head of his. With a nod, he turned away and continued out the door, leaving me alone with my own thoughts and regrets.
He hadn’t touched me inappropriately, but the memory of his skin on mine was going to haunt me for days to come. If I survived for days, that was.
Warmth trickled down my upper lip. I pressed my fingertips under my nose and was unsurprised when they came away bloody.
I glanced at the belt, lying inert on top of the dresser. Spreading my fingers, I held my hand out, red-speckled digits splayed a few inches above the coiled leather. Energy buzzed in a prickle over my skin, marching along my palm until it reached my wrist. A throbbing sensation built in my bloodstream, pounding along in time with my heartbeat, felt strongest in that hand.
Curious, I closed my fist around the leather, right over one of the runes branded behind the buckle.
‘I thought you were dead.’ The belt’s voice was a faint whisper, much like it had been the first time I’d worn it. Barely penetrating my consciousness, but still there, a reassuring and familiar presence. ‘You were gravely injured. I’m surprised the beast dragged you out.’
“Me too, Isaac,” I said, keeping my voice low. No telling what the Weres might overhear.
‘It will speed the healing process if you wear me. You still can. There are changes going on in your body, but it’s not yet to the point where you can no longer use me.’
“Tempting as the idea is, I don’t think the Weres in the house would take kindly to that,” I replied.
I filled the belt in on what had happened since I had woken. About the Sunstrikers in the apartment and the deal they had made with the White Hats. How I was going to be sitting out on the fight against the Ravenwoods and spending the night of the full moon locked up in a cage in case I turned.
The belt mulled that over, not responding for a while. I didn’t do anything to rush it, leaning my hip against the dresser and resting my hand on the leather while I waited.
‘Take me with you tomorrow.’
That response surprised me. “Why?”
‘This could go one of two ways. You will either turn, in which case you no longer wish to survive, yes?’
I didn’t answer.
‘You can use one of the stakes to end it if you must. It would be preferable to being at the mercy of the White Hats. They will prolong your death.’
My tongue felt thick in my mouth, making it hard to speak. “You can’t be sure of that.”
‘I’ve seen enough through your eyes to know that you would not be treated with mercy by the White Hats. Bo is your ally, yes, but he will wish you dead as badly as the others already do if he sees you turn into a monster. And Jack only sees you as a tool to use to achieve his own ends. If, by some chance, you do not turn, you will need me.’
“Not that I see that happening, but why?”
‘To destroy the vampire.’
I stilled. A sudden, intense desire to hunt Royce burned in my blood, seared in my mind like a brand.
‘He must be stopped. Before he hurts you again. Hurts your friend. You must rescue her.’
Sara. Oh, my God, Sara.
She’d been in the hands of the vampires for too long. They could have done anything to her. Anything at all. She had no legal recourse. No way to go to the cops if something went wrong. And I’d left her with them.
They could be feeding on her. Using her. Manipulating her, the way Royce had manipulated me.
‘Yes,’ the belt whispered. ‘Yes. You will stop it.’
“I will,” I said. My voice shook, but new purpose gave me strength. I had to make things right. “I’ll stop him. For good.”
Chapter 23
(Days left to full moon: 1)
I spent most of the night following and the next day trying desperately to avoid Chaz. Every time I turned around, there he was.
Nikki seemed to delight in my discomfort. She followed me around, too, though at a more discreet distance, watching how I jumped and swore and flinched every time I ran into him. Every time I caught her watching, her crystalline irises were sparkling with pleasure and malice. If I hadn’t respected her brother so much, and hadn’t still been in so much pain, I might have called her on it.
As it was, there wasn’t a chance I was about to come to blows with her over something so stupid.
It wasn’t like Chaz or I had much choice in the matter, either. The apartment just wasn’t that big. Everyone was feeling a bit cooped up and restless, particularly the Weres. Tomorrow was the first day the moon would wax full enough to start the werewolves’ cycle of forced shifts that came three days out of every month. Every one of them would have to change into their half-man, half-wolf form.
The suppressed energy of a half dozen Weres close to their change combined with the fear of the White Hats was a recipe for disaster in the making. Frankly, it seemed a miracle no one had tried to shoot or beat the crap out of anyone yet.
The White Hats really didn’t like the proximity of the Weres. Though they’d never bothered before, now every one of them, except for Jack, was armed at all times. The White Hats stayed grouped by Jack’s cot, standing as an unnecessary honor guard. Avoiding crossing paths with anyone who wasn’t human enough for their tastes, including me.
As for the Weres, they prowled around, exploring every inch of the apartment until the whole damned place smelled like a kennel. They didn’t make any overtly threatening moves toward the White Hats, but I think that was mostly because Chaz beat the snot out of Simon when he started getting too confrontational with Bo.
Their behavior made me wonder—in truth, a bit snidely—whether some of the males might not start marking their territory if the pressure contained in this place didn’t let up soon.