Demonic Vampires (Supernatural Shifter Academy #3) - G. Bailey Page 0,25
going to go be a good houseguest even with slightly wobbly legs.”
The guys exchange a triumphant look as I turn and walk out of the room, keeping my head high in spite of my earlier embarrassment. It’s only after the door is closed behind me that I give myself permission to ruminate. What is it about her that’s bothering me so much? I try to tell myself that I do just feel indebted to her -- she did help make me, after all -- but that’s about as hollow of an excuse as they come.
Am I really that insecure, that I don’t want Silas helping her with something as mundane as washing clothes? What am I afraid is going to happen, exactly? We’re all adults here, and the guys can do what they want. I don’t have a claim to them; hell, it’s pretty damn hypocritical of me to be getting possessive when I’m more or less juggling four different guys at once. It makes me feel shitty, and the guilt only darkens my mood further.
At least the orgasm has me feeling better, the pain in my side having dulled to a distant ache. The fact that Shade and Silas were willing to have a threesome isn’t lost on me, either. Who would have thought the two guys who butted heads the most at the beginning would end up in sync when it comes to my place in the group? It’s enough to give me tentative hope about the future of my relationship with the rest of them. Maybe I won’t have to choose. At this point, I don’t know if I even could. Shit, I think as I walk across the common area. I’m in deep.
Landon is sprawled on the couch, fast asleep and snoring softly, looking as gorgeous as ever in the beam of sunlight shining through the back window. I tiptoe around him, listening to Hazel and Xander’s muffled voices coming from the other room, and make my way to the laundry room, where Edith is already sorting our clothes. “Hey,” I say, hugging myself self-consciously as I come to stand next to her. “Sorry again about earlier.”
“Don’t apologise,” Edith replies, giving me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I should have knocked. Thanks for offering to help.” She nods to the pile of clothes on the bench. “I’m doing brights first.”
“Got it,” I say, gamely beginning to paw through the damp clothes. “I’m a little surprised you’re not using magic to clean these,” I remark. “You did a bang-up job with the glyphs earlier.”
“Oh, please.” Edith laughs, flapping a hand. “That was child’s play.”
“Wouldn’t be for me,” I murmur glumly.
“Well, it’s not like I can turn into a dragon or a wolf,” she reasons. “We all have our gifts.” Her green eyes flicker up to me, her expression unreadable. “Funny how these things work out.”
“Yeah,” I echo quietly. “Funny.”
For a moment we continue to work in silence. “You and the guys are close,” Edith observes finally.
I swallow hard. “I, uh… Yeah. I guess we are.”
“Is your… relationship like that with all of them?” she asks, sounding almost deliberately nonchalant. “Like with Silas and Shade, I mean.”
I close my eyes for a moment, feeling put on the spot. “I mean… not exactly, no,” I admit. “That is, I think they all care about me, if that’s what you mean. We’ve… been through a lot together.”
“I have to say, I feel a little left out,” the witch shifter says with a half-smile. “You guys have known each other longer than I have. It’s going to take me some time to catch up.”
I balk at that and then kick myself for the knee-jerk reaction. “Well, we’ve got nothing but time while we’re here,” I reply. “I’m sure we’ll all be too close for comfort by the time this is all over.”
“Guess I’d better get started, then,” she says indulgently. “That Landon sure is gorgeous, even if he is a bit of a goofball. Hunter, though…” She makes a low, appreciative sound in her throat, her face lighting up. “I love the broody, sullen types. Call me a glutton for punishment. I’ve got a thing for gingers, too,” she adds with a wink. I’m stuck wrestling between panic and anger, so I settle on staying silent. Edith seems to pick up on this, inclining her head slightly. “Unless… That’s not a problem for you, is it?”
“Of course not,” I reply hastily, not meeting her eyes. “They’re their own