13. Unwelcome Distraction

Laura - Sohodol Canyon

The road and river go farther into the mountains in a tiny passage between two massive rocks. We've located a patch of thick, verdant grass on which Paul unhurriedly pitches the tent for the night.

Darkness creeps faster between the mountains and will soon be upon us. Waiting for him to finish, I march up and down the river stream, flattening the grass under my feet. His calmness and the way he does everything slowly drive me nuts. I was patient until now, but we’re here, and we should hurry to save those girls.

The water rushes through caves it carved through stone, whooshing behind me. The sound almost covers my words. “How much longer? We should start our search.”

"Chill," Paul says calmly, digging a tiny passage around the tent to keep water out if it rains. "We'll do it once the sun comes up."

“What? Do you expect me to stay here and wait all night?”

He throws away the little shovel and turns to me. “You don’t know how strong he is. Ion Corvin hasn’t given us anything to go on. We’ll go searching through the woods tomorrow during daylight. I’m not going to search for a strigoi in the dark when they’re the strongest.”

“Us.” I raise my chin. “You tend to forget I’m one too.”

“Oh, believe me, I can’t forget that.” He shakes his head and gives a small, sad smile. “Not even for a second.”

“Then why do you look at me like that?”

“How?” He raises an eyebrow.

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at the annoyingly attractive alpha. “Like I’m a candy you’d like to suck on.”

His cheeks suddenly tinge with a light pink color. I smirk, seeing him blushing. But I guess his ego can’t stand that. He marches toward me, and a dangerous smile grows on his face when I instinctively step back. I yelp when my foot touches the cold water and lose my balance. The entire forest is quiet except for my cry. 

His hand on my waist steadies me while his other hand reaches for my chin, forcing me to gaze at him. He growls most convincingly. “You’re the sucker, not me.”

“I don’t drink blood.” The words escape my lips before I can close my mouth shut.

“What do you mean?” His eyes narrow, and his hand grips my waist even tighter.

On one hand, it's thrilling to be trapped so close to his hard body. On the other hand, his warmth is a solid reminder of what I'll never have. A life, a warm body of my own, and someone to love and be loved by.

My lips tremble as I say, “I don’t need blood to survive. My wounds heal slower, but I live on without.”

The disbelief in his eyes makes me gulp. I want to explain how I’m an abomination among the strigois, but I don’t see the point in doing it. And he doesn’t ask. He simply removes his arm from around my waist, leaving an empty chillness in its place. 

I sit on a rock near the water, watching its every movement. Everything looks so clear in the dark. When I see a flickering light, I turn toward the tent. Paul made a fire and now roasts something on a stick.

While he isn't looking in my direction, I find myself staring as leftover tension churns within me. The light from the fire has just the right angle, highlighting Paul’s dark eyes with sparkling waves. His jawline is very sharp, and his eyes are gray. Ok, not simply gray. Like the color of the earth when it is in need of more water and you feel compelled to provide the nourishment it craves, or the color of dark honey, extremely sweet and just a touch bitter.

"It's not nice to stare," he replies, without looking at me. How does he know I'm staring?

I walk closer to the fire and sit next to him. The cool air makes my body visibly shiver as I inch nearer the flames. I crave the heat since my body is already colder than a human’s. This shouldn’t be a problem, but the glamour comes with both good and bad stuff.

Paul reaches for his bag behind him and takes out another jacket. Without a word, he places it over my shoulders.

I snort. "Strigois don't need coats to keep them warm."

“Yes.” He nods. “And they also feed on blood.”

I don't respond and merely pull his jacket tightly over myself.

“It’s time to sleep. I’ll be in my tent.”

The night is peaceful, and the sky is full of stars, yet I despise being alone. "Outside, the air is fresher. The little tent will give you nightmares about that strigoi you neglected to hunt."

“It won’t be a nightmare if the strigoi looks like you,” Paul grumbles in a gruff, sleepy voice that has no right to be so sexy.

I shrug it off and, instead of antagonizing him any further, I just look at him. He's like the sun itself. His body radiates warmth more than the fire, making me want to cling to him. 

“I can think of a few ways we can spend the night instead of sleeping,” I say without remorse if this will make him stay outside with me. I don’t want to be alone tonight.

"I’m sure you can. But everything you propose ends with a plea to kill you." Paul rests on his side near the fire. He closes his eyes and settles his head onto his arm. "We've got a busy day ahead of us. I need to get some rest. And you may do whatever strigois do best at night."

A smile involuntarily takes over my face when I realize he’ll remain here for the night. I curse his sharp jawline and lips that suddenly seem so kissable. Despite my surge of annoyance whenever I see him, catching the sight of him in the dark has a different effect. I look at the fire instead. His presence is just an unwelcome distraction.