"Sizemore, Susan - Laws of the Blood 3 - Companions" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sizemore Susan)

His hair was shoulder length, and her fingers couldn't seem to stop stroking through it. When they'd met, his hair had been short, combed back off his high forehead. If he wasn't a vampire, he'd be bald. "Don't give me that Samson and Delilah crap."

He lifted his head to look at her. "I was quoting Ozzy Osbourne."

"Isn't he dead or at least bald by now?"

He shrugged. "Don't know."

They were being talkative. Selena wondered if he found that as worrisome as she did.

Yes.

Telling him to stay out of her head at this point was as futile as telling oxygen to stay out of her lungs. They'd made love for a long time, and she ached all over, partly from lack of practice, partly because making love with a vampire is not a gentle thing.

You've had a lot of experience with vampires, have you?

This time she said, "Get out of my head."

He yawned. "I noticed you didn't say to get out of your bed."

Selena pushed him all the way off her and sat up. She looked at the clock. She glanced out the window, where night was beginning to fade. 'Tell me you're not staying."

A moment later, he was on his feet without her having seen him move. "I'm not staying."

That was something to be thankful for. She wanted him out of her life as much as she'd longed for him to return to her a few hours before. He'd explained to her long ago how the craving was because he'd made her drink his blood on that first wild night together. It was what bound her to him. There was no emotional entanglement, despite what they'd been through two years before. Some lives had ended, some had gotten saved, all in a day's - night's - work for a pair of cops, never mind which side of the divide between mortal and monster each was on.

What they were left with was a craving worse than any drug. It was an addiction without a cure or treatment programs. Selena almost laughed at the notion of getting up at some twelve-step meeting and announcing that she was addicted to sex with a five-hundred-year-old creature of the night. One that she was currently thinking about asking if he wanted a snack, a cup of coffee, to move in, let her wait on him hand and foot.

Yeah. Right.

That was the bloodbond talking. She didn't want him to stay. It was her cop's curiosity that made her ask, "What are you doing in town? Does Ariel know you're - "

"How do you know about Ariel?" His blue eyes narrowed to slits. "Does Ariel know about you?"

She wasn't sure what Ariel thought she was, some strig's girl, she supposed. The Enforcer of the City knew she was a homicide cop. She knew about the homicides Ariel sometimes allowed. They had a certain uneasy understanding. "We've had some professional contact," she admitted.

His wide mouth narrowed to match his eyes, but he didn't pursue the subject. "How's your aunt?"

Selena used the adrenaline from the stab of fear to roll off the bed and stand on the opposite side from him. "Why?"

His lips quirked up just a little, in something resembling a smile. "She keeps putting love spells on me."

"Oh." After a moment, curiosity got the better of her. "Are they working?"

"I'm here."

He continued to dress slowly, like a strip in reverse, watching her without saying anything else. She didn't know if he was deliberately teasing her or if the heat that still glowed through her was making her hallucinate. He had wide shoulders, but the rest of him was all long limbs and wiry muscle. She'd always had a thing for arms and hands, and found Steve's particularly attractive.

Watching him move was pure pleasure, until Selena reminded herself of the times she'd seen him still as stone, his skin as pale as blueveined marble. Maybe he wasn't exactly dead - no one could fuck like that and be dead - but he wasn't human. And what was between them was -