Nice Werewolves Don't Bite Vampires (Half-Moon Hollow #8)- Molly Harper Page 0,34

isn’t that important information for people who burst into flames when they come into contact with the sun?” I asked.

“Yes, but generally, the best indicator that the sun is rising is a big ball of fire in the sky.”

“Fair enough.” I nodded. “Is it considered rude to ask about a vampire’s special power?”

“Not at all. I can hear the true emotions in a person’s voice, which I know sounds like I’m just listening to their tone. But I can hear hidden love, I can hear hidden hate. When we met, I could tell that you weren’t just annoyed with those boys knocking into the bookshelf. I could hear your desperation to get away. I could hear how nervous you were to talk to me. I could hear that you wanted me.”

“Well, that sounds…I really wish I had known that before I talked to you,”

“It’s not an exact gift, like mind-reading and I try not to use it to my advantage,” he said, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “And when you think about it, it makes sense. My hearing was highly attuned in life, and music has always affected my emotions profoundly. My gift just combined the two.”

“Well, it’s definitely more helpful than the sunrise thing.”

The movie started and we stopped speaking, leaning towards each other as the story sprang to life on the screen. For the first time since we’d met, we managed to be alone and still, without people watching or my having to rush away. It was so nice, to sit there together in the quiet dark and just be.

Later that night, as I settled into bed, having showered and changed into PJs and thrown my drive-in clothes in the washer while my parents dozed in their recliners, there was a knock at my window. It was so soft, it was almost unnoticeable. I cringed, wondering if one of my relatives had followed the smell of popcorn to my window from the perimeter. I’d changed into fresh clothes after I ran home, and then used the floral-scented wet wipes to clean my skin before I walked through the door. But you could only do so much to get rid of movie snack-smell.

In my dark bedroom, I crept to my window and saw nothing but tree branches swaying, as if they’d just been swept aside. I opened the window, a narrow horizontal affair I couldn’t hope to slide out of…which in terms of parenting, was pretty diabolical. I turned the crank to vent it outward and picked up on the warm scent of cedar…and onions and pepperoni.

Which was not a great combination.

I sniffed, glancing down to a shiny object placed just under my window. Winking in the moonlight was a pizza bacon dog on a stick, carefully wrapped in aluminum foil.

A silly, stupid grin broke out on my face.

My phone pinged. Under Aunt Myrtle’s screen name, Alex had texted me, “It didn’t seem right to me, that you missed out on your favorite treat because you’re such a considerate person.”

“Thank you, you’re very sweet,” I replied. “How did you get one? The line was still crazy when I left”

Alex had not been thrilled about not driving me home, but his protests were minimal after I laid what I considered to be an impressive second goodnight kiss on him and then ran away. Had he really stayed behind and shelled out cash to get me a stinky processed food treat and sneak it across supernatural enemy lines? Somehow, it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me.

That was sort of sad.

“If you offer enough people bribes, they’ll let you skip ahead in the pizza-bacon-dog-on-a-stick line.”

I laughed, typing back. “Your chivalry is very impressive. But please don’t sneak onto the compound again. It’s very dangerous. If my family caught you.” I paused, trying to think of the most appropriate and not-insulting way to phrase “werewolf ass-whooping.” But I just went with, “It would be very bad.”

But then I added several emojis—a cursing angry face, a wolf, a fist, flames, an ambulance. He did not respond to these images, only sending, “It was worth it, to see you smile like that.”

I gasped. If he saw me smile, did that mean he was standing in the woods, watching? It already denied logic that my family hadn’t smelled him. “You’re still here? Go!”

The trees rustled just a bit more and I imagined him running through the woods—I hoped to get far, far away from here. I snuck

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