Page 71 of A Trial By Blood

I glanced up at Ronan again. I didn’t want to say good night, I wanted to go with him, wherever he was going after this. But I didn’t want to push. Maybe he needed space? This had to be a lot for him. He’d touched me, kissed me, and I wanted more of that, more of him. But I could only assume that everything Ronan was feeling and experiencing was confusing and no doubt exhausting. If he needed time to himself, I wasn’t going to push for more.

“Thank you for today, for everything. There’s no way I could do this without you,” I said.

“I think you could, but I would hate it. I’d have to follow you, and I’d end up killing far too many people. This way is a lot more efficient.”

I bit my lips together to stop my surprised laugh. “You talk about killing people on my behalf a lot.”

His gaze moved over my face. “Because I feel the urge to do it multiple times a day. Every time a male looks at you, I want to tear their throat out.”

I should probably be horrified by that. I wasn’t. Maybe it made me twisted, but I didn’t really care. “But you resist it, that’s the important thing.”

He licked his lips in a way that was completely unconscious, but he was looking at my mouth like he wanted a taste. “I wouldn’t want you to think me a monster.”

“That’s the only reason you don’t? For me?”

“That’s the main reason, yes. Also, Relic told me I have to control my base instincts or no one will want to be around me for fear I’ll kill them. I find I like your family. I wouldn’t want them to be afraid of me.”

Before he regained his emotions, he was indifferent. Now, these feelings were new to him. And even though Ronan once had a human mother, he was sired by a vampire. Vampires were cold, territorial, deadly. They were true predators. Born to kill. And for much of their existence had killed their victims when they fed.

Some still did, while others chose another way, like finding willing people to feed from. But those same instincts were part of Ronan, and something he’d had to learn to control—and that now included his instincts to protect me.

“They could never be afraid of you. They know you’re a good male, Ronan,” I said, then noticed his hands were trembling at his sides. “Are you okay?”

He nodded jerkily. “I—I need to leave now.”

“Oh, okay.” I forced myself not to ask him to stay, even though I really wanted to. I stepped closer to him.

And he did the same.

His hands shot out, and he gripped my hips awkwardly, his head dipping closer to mine. He wanted to kiss me. I tilted my head back and our noses bumped, then his arms banded around mine a little too roughly, and he jerked me against him.

As soon as our bodies made contact, I felt how hard he was.

Ronan hissed under his breath and jerked his hips back, then released me and stepped away. “I need to leave,” he said again, desperation in his voice.

“Ronan—”

“I’ll be here to collect you in the morning.” Then he strode back to the car, fast, so fast I couldn’t keep up.

“Ronan.” I rushed after him, but he was already in his car and backing out. “Crap.”

How did we get back to awkwardness? I reminded myself that he was still figuring it all out and that I had to be patient. Blowing out a breath, I headed inside.

Yep. The music was coming from Else’s workroom, but the living room and kitchen were empty. Mom and Art would be working at the cemetery, no doubt. Several flowers only bloomed at night, and they were harvesting what they could before everything died off for the winter. There were already flowers and herbs hanging from every available space, drying for use later.

Voices came from the backyard, raised ones. I hustled to the kitchen window. Bram and Mags were standing out on the tree house balcony. Bram had his head dipped, and I could see his eyes blazing even from here. Mags’s had her hands on her hips and a stubborn tilt to her chin, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Bram lifted his hands and reached for her, then dropped them. He partially shifted, his wings exploding from his back, feathers glossy and black as he dove off the side of the balcony, catching the breeze, and with a couple of beats of his wings shot up into the sky.

Mags stared after him, then covered her face with her hands.

Shit. I darted around the kitchen table—

Someone knocked on the door. “Crap.” I changed direction, rushed out to the hall, and pulled it open. An older gentleman stood there holding flowers.

He smiled. “Good evening.”

“Um…hi.”

“I’m here to collect Elsewyth,” he said.