“Touché.” Hawke nodded, his eyes on the sky.
“You have to try. You’ll either go into accidental stasis or start sporting some serious cherry eyes, and you’re no use to us dead.” Had it been Ransom, or even Lachlan, I would have given him a shoulder slap, or some kind of physical affection, but Hawke had never been big on anyone entering his personal space, so I kept my hands in the pockets of my leathers.
He grunted in reply. “What’s your excuse? And don’t act like you’re not starving. I can practically smell the hunger on you.”
“I…” I struggled for the right words and shrugged. There was no logical explanation for the way yesterday’s attempt at feeding had made me nauseous before I even pierced the vein.
Hawke sent me a heaping dose of side eye before searching out another constellation, or whatever it was he was doing. “Don’t even think of lying to me. I might not have your arms, but I’ve known you long enough to smell bullshit.”
My eyes were drawn to Jocelyn again, her frame illuminated briefly by the strands of purple magic she spun in her hands. Her powers never ceased to amaze me. Vampires were born with certain abilities if we were lucky, and we honed our combat skills over centuries of dedication, but her power was the result of a mix of the talent she’d been born with and the tenacity to master and advance it.
Hawke whistled low and shook his head.
“What?”
“There are at least a dozen human feeders happy to be at your service in the manor,” Hawke muttered, “and you’re staring at the witch like she’s a five-course meal. There lies trouble, my man.”
Caught.
There was no use denying it. I whipped my gaze away from Jocelyn and focused on the Domum. Hawke was right. That’s exactly where I should be headed to slake the thirst that was incinerating my throat, but my feet wouldn’t move. My stomach rebelled at the thought of even trying.
“Fuck,” Hawke muttered, his jaw flexing. “You’re already in trouble, aren’t you?”
“I’m keeping my distance.” Whenever we were in the same room, I was careful to keep space between us, careful to lock down every emotion, careful to hide every sign of the blistering need for her that consumed my every thought the second I caught her scent. Fuck, I was tired of being careful and it had only been two days since I’d had her in my arms.
I shifted my weight, my body responding to the memory of her taste, her skin. My blood thickened and every cell ached to finish what we’d started in that bedroom, and damn the consequences.
His eyes narrowed. “How much trouble?”
Enough to kill us both.
“It’s nothing you should be worried about.” Not because I wasn’t up shit creek without a paddle, but because he had bigger issues to focus on. I might be walking a line between hunger and death, but he was dancing on a tightrope right over the only hell that was preferable to death—bloodmadness.
He stared at me long and hard, and I got the feeling that he could see exactly how much trouble Jocelyn and I had gotten ourselves into. He’d always been the best of us at reading body language—maybe it had something to do with his ability to know exactly what someone feared most. He tilted his head, then blew out a long sigh, turning his attention back to the stars. “Is she any closer to finding Avianna?”
“I don’t think so, but she’s working her ass off.” I glanced back to where Jocelyn was still casting, magic now swirling around her entire body in tendrils of purple light. “She’s either in coven meetings, trying to push someone into revealing their loyalties, helping us search witch territory for any sign of the twins, or exhausting herself magically with dozens of locator spells. I promise you, Hawke, she’s doing everything she can.”
“I’m not blaming her, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Hawke’s jaw tensed, but still, he looked up at the sky. “Avianna was my responsibility, and if I’d just—” His hands fisted at his sides. “They have her underground, Benedict.”
“I know,” I said softly.
“She was locked up for years at that boarding school, and now she can’t even see the stars,” he whispered.
“We’ll get her back,” I promised.
“Yeah, we will,” he agreed, his eyes turning even colder than usual. “And then I’m going to kill Saint.” He strode off to the right without another word, heading toward the woods that surrounded the manor.
I rubbed the back of my neck and went in the opposite direction, toward Jocelyn. Magic wrapped around her like a lover as I came up behind her—quietly, so I didn’t fuck up her spell.
“Stop tip-toeing back there. I knew the second you stepped out of the house,” she said, her eyes trained on the map before her.