Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Rosie,” I whispered, the knowledge knocking the wind out of me.
“I’d rate it a seventy-five,” she repeated, her eyes on mine.
She looked away. “Now ask me about that time in Grenada.”
Dalton cleared his throat. “On a scale of one to ten, what would you rate your pain when you were stabbed in Grenada?”
“Fourteen,” she said quietly.
“You were stabbed?” I asked in disbelief. I hadn’t noticed any scars, and I’d seen every inch of her body. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, and I remembered the blood on the floor of her room. “Why are your feet bleeding?”
“They aren’t anymore,” she replied, moving past me to sit at the table.
I ground my teeth together in frustration.
“She went for a little run when she woke up and realized you hadn’t come back,” Gary answered for her.
“Pop,” she hissed in warning.
“Oh, are we just going to ignore this shit some more?” he chastised. “Tell your mate what happened.”
Rosemary stared at him mutinously, her lips pressed tightly closed.
Gary turned to me. “She lost it. Took off running before I could stop her. She made it to the road before Dalton got there.”
“Where the hell were you going?” I asked in disbelief.
“To find you,” Gary told me, looking at his daughter. “Didn’t even stop to put shoes on.”
“Quiet, Pop,” Rosemary ordered. He looked away from her.
“She’s handled the separation. Pukin’ her guts out, the shakes, the fever, the muscle aches. Losin’ weight because she can’t hardly keep anythin’ down. But apparently, you not showin’ up when you’re supposed to was too much.”
Guilt was my constant companion. We were old friends. I’d learned to live with its voice in my ear, whispering about all the shit I should’ve done and all the things I shouldn’t have. I was used to it.
This was something different.
This felt more like shame.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked Rosemary, taking a step toward her.
“What was there to say?” she asked simply. “You knew before you left that there would be physical repercussions.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped when her head gave a little jerk.
“Every Vampire knows that,” she said dryly. “It’s common knowledge that any separation between mates causes the symptoms to intensify. You also know that a human mate’s symptoms are worse than the Vampire’s, but I guess if your pain level was only a six…” She let out a little laugh. “You get the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you didn’t think my symptoms would be very bad if yours were so manageable.”
“You should’ve said something,” I argued.
I thought back to every time I found Rosemary after I’d been at my parents’ house. Always freshly showered. A little subdued, but glad to see me. Not once had she made any reference to having a rough time while I was gone. Not once had she complained or mentioned the mating heat being too much.
“What is there to say?” she asked dully. “You made up your mind. You were going without me, whether I wanted you to or not.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
“Weed helps,” she said with a shrug. “Edibles work the best, but they take a while to take effect. A blunt will do in a pinch.”
“I won’t—” the words caught in my throat.
I couldn’t promise not to leave her again. Chance and I were about to tell Dalton that we’d narrowed down our list of Vampires to three that were involved in the human militia’s war on Vampires and their mates. Things were going to start moving very quickly, and my brothers would need me.
“You’re going to keep going,” she said in understanding.
The worst part is she wasn’t even surprised.
That small burst of anger when I’d arrived had been the extent of her fight. By the look in her eyes, she’d already moved on to acceptance.
“You said you had a high pain threshold,” I reminded her, my voice rough. It was no excuse, but it was the only explanation I had. “You didn’t ever say how bad it was, so I thought—”
“Complaining about things doesn’t change them,” Rosemary said, pulling her knees up to her chest. “It just makes you a whiny little bitch.”
“I’m sorry today took longer than it should’ve,” I said, moving closer. “This morning, we found a video of my brother Zeke.”
“You don’t need to explain,” she replied. “It is what it is.”
“I should’ve called.”
“Yeah, you should’ve.”
“Zeke had been gathering information before he died,” I explained, gutted at the lack of emotion in her voice. “It’s what I’ve been going through on my laptop, and none of it made any sense until we found that video this morning. We have names, baby. We’re getting closer to ending it.”
“Good news,” she replied with an unconvincing smile.
“Zeke left you information?” Dalton asked. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
“We weren’t sure what we had—”