“I whisper your name...and then...finally I kiss you.” His lips press gently against mine, his tongue seeking entry.
I open willingly, urging him inside, and he...utterly...worships...me.
This kiss is the total antithesis of the last one. There’s no maddened rush to reach the finish line. No violence behind our actions, just languid relish. I’ve never been kissed like this. I’m not sure if it’s a hello or a goodbye or both. But there’s meaning to it. A promise.
When he lifts his head, his lips are red and slightly swollen. His eyes are wild, in direct opposition to his movements. I expect him to dive down and kiss me again, only harder and hotter, but he traces his thumbs over the rise of my cheekbones, his gaze never leaving mine, and I decide this is better.
“I haven’t slept in days,” he says. “Want to nap with me?”
In his arms? “Yes.” I don’t care that I’ve only just woken up.
He sheds his weapons and gets comfortable on the bed. I crawl to him and rest my head on his shoulder, drape my arm over his stomach and bend one of my knees over his thighs.
“What if I have the nightmare?” I ask. “What if I catch fire?”
He plays with the ends of my hair. “I’ll burn and I’ll get over it. I’ve got you where I want you. I’m not letting go.”
I hold Milla in my arms as she dozes. Sleeping is impossible for me, my mind a roller coaster of activity. I can’t stop thinking about our kiss—can’t stop craving another. I told myself I’d let her go afterward. I’d walk away and never look back.
But I kissed her and cuddled her closer, and now the thought of leaving her warmth and softness... Yeah, I’d rather eat nails.
I’m falling hard for this girl, and one way or another, I’m going to lose her the way I lost Kat. Even if we both manage to survive the vision, her brother still stands in our way, whether he supports us or not. I’ll never be content playing second string to River—I was second string with my aunt and uncle, and it sucked—just like I know Milla will never be content playing second string to Kat.
The thing is? Kat is no longer my first priority. But River will always be Milla’s.
Maybe she senses my tension. She mutters my name and stretches like a pinup, lifting her arms above her head, arching her back.
So beautiful.
The urge to touch her overwhelms me, and I shift her still-dark locks through my fingers, the strands like silk. The blood in my veins heats, boils...one touch isn’t enough, will never be enough.
I should get up. Leave.
Too late. She blinks open her eyes and gasps. “You’re still here.”
“Where did you expect me to be?”
“Honestly? Anywhere else.” A slow smile blooms. “But I’m glad you stayed.”
There’s a clench of desire low in my gut.
A hard knock sounds at the door. “Zombies are headed toward the house,” Cole announces. “Gear up.”
Zombies? Headed this way?
Mills and I scramble out of bed. The last time zombies approached a home I lived in, they wore bomb collars and destroyed everything in their path, distracting us and allowing Anima’s most lethal agents to close in.
“Don’t try to ditch me out there,” Milla tells me, a tremor in her voice. She straps on the holster for her short swords. “Stay by my side.”
No way in hell. The less time I spend with her during battle, the less likely Ali’s vision is to come true.
“Frosty,” she says, exasperated.
I ignore her and rip open the door. Other slayers are rushing out of their rooms, their expressions a mix of fury and dread. We congregate in the weapons room, hurriedly gathering extra daggers, guns and ammo.
“There are probably two hundred zombies,” Cole says. “Justin and Gavin were on patrol and spotted them. In our favor, they aren’t wearing collars so there are no bombs. Also, when our boys tried to engage, they were ignored. The hordes are acting just like Milla when she searched for Love.”
“But I scented slayers,” she says. “Why would zombies ignore Justin and Gavin?”
“The serum draws like to like, remember.” I hand her my favorite guns, the ones with retractable axes, and show her how to work them. “But why aren’t zombies fighting other zombies right now?”
“They scent Milla.” Kat appears a few feet in front of me, her features tight with worry. “They hunger for thánatos.”
“But she’s not lit up with red flames.” Ali slams a clip in place. “How can they scent it?”
“As with any fire, heat and smoke waft. In this case, spiritual heat and smoke,” Kat replies. “And it’s only growing stronger.”
Milla flattens her hands over her stomach, clearly horrified. “I don’t feel hot. Don’t see any smoke. Should I wear one of the suits?”
“No. Let the hordes come,” I growl. “Let them ignore us while trying to get to you, unable to reach you. Because yes, you’ll ride the pine.”
She stiffens, but nods.
“And if they can’t scent you,” Cole says, “they might attack any humans nearby. That, we can’t allow.”
“Okay. No suit,” Milla says.