To Save a Vampire - A.K. Koonce Page 0,35

I say in a breathy voice.

His mouth keeps moving slowly against my neck until he’s at the low point where it meets my shoulder. The tingling that’s frantically soaring through me starts to settle in and build low in my stomach, creating something impatient. Something demanding. I take another deep breath and move impossibly closer to him. Pushing one hand against his hard chest while the other mindlessly strays to his neck, clinging tightly to keep me grounded to him.

“Asher,” I say again in a whisper.

He hums against my neck in response. A shiver pulls down my spine.

I try to think. Somewhere rolling around on the floor of my mind is a question forming, but I can’t grasp it. My brows tense, trying to form a basic thought. “Do you think it’s working?” I finally ask when a little light shines through the haze of my mind.

He gives another slow sweep of his tongue against my neck before pausing. He rests his head against my shoulder, his hand still holding my hip. My now weak body is flush against his strong body. “Do you think that’s enough?” I say again against his chest as I try to quietly catch my breath.

He nods and takes a step back from me. He glances at my neck as he pushes his fingers roughly through his messy hair. I try to let my eyes adjust to the light of the sun and attempt, once again, to steady my breathing without looking too affected by his touch.

“Do you think that’ll work? Is there anything else I should do?” I say, trying to sound polite, reaching for the medical professionalism I know I have somewhere.

He smiles with hooded eyes, and I notice he is also breathing heavy. Did I affect him? Surely not. It must be an exhausting source of power he just shed to help me.

“No, that should be enough,” he says huskily, right before he pops a berry into his mouth.

He watches me with a growing smile as he chews exceptionally slow. Though I’m always intrigued when he eats anything, my eyebrows pull together in confusion.

“Don’t eat those,” I say trying to push the second berry from his hand, but I fail and he throws it into the air, making a show of catching the red fruit in his mouth like a trained dog. Again, his smile widens even further, exposing nearly every perfect tooth in his gorgeous mouth. He gives a small chuckle as I look at him with worry.

“Those might kill you. I have no idea what the limits of your immortality are but it’d be kind of embarrassing if you died from a berry, don’t you think?”

“They’re just Tayberries. Perfectly safe to eat. My grandmother's favorite actually,” he says with a laugh before walking away from me.

I stomp after him through the trees, kicking up dry leaves and dirt with each angry step. “You knew the whole—’’ My yelling voice is muffled as he pushes his palm against my mouth and pulls me behind a tree. My anger cools as I see how alert he is. His eyes shift slowly through our surroundings like he’s taking an inventory of every twig in the forest and something isn’t adding up.

He stands in front of me. He raises a finger to his lips to silence anything I might say before lowering his palm from my mouth. His body nearly covers mine, just as it did a few moments earlier, but this time he’s deadly tense. His hand rests on the hilt of the Crimson Sword at his waist.

His jaw tics as he listens for something my human ears are oblivious to. Looking at him now, at his stance, at the aggression he’s harboring, it’s clear to me that the birds were wise to fear him. Maybe I too should have taken notes from the prey within the woods.

I take his free hand in mine, but his eyes never stop calculating, even as I trace against his palm.

What is it?

He glances down at me. His eyes boring into mine.

Don’t show fear.

My palm tingles at his words, and I take them in slowly. He could have given me any advice. He could have told me to run. To hide. But whatever’s out there, I can’t escape. I can’t outrun it, and I can’t hide. I can just raise my head and swallow down the alarms that are firing through my nervous system.

He grips my hand in his, lacing our fingers with a squeeze, before he