“My blood?” I held out my hand.

He dropped the bauble in my palm. “Nice doing business with you, babe.”

The charm broke as soon as the globe touched my skin, turning into just a drop of blood. I wiped it on my dress before turning away.

Walking out of the circle, I reached for Nathanial’s hand.

My gaze swept over the room, the bodies, the blood. “Still want me to be more like Elizabeth?”

Nathanial froze, and I shook my head. Just teasing. It was maybe two hours after dark, and it had already been a long night. I leaned against his body.

“Take me home.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

The door to the cabin slammed behind me as I leapt down the porch steps. I landed a foot past the bottom stair, snow crunching under my toes, and I stared at the expanse of snow separating the cabin from the woods. I could cross it in two heartbeats. Easy.

I didn’t. I was done with running.

Instead I stood there, drawing in deep breaths and letting them out. That’s why I’d come out anyway. To get a little distance. A chance to breathe.

I squeezed my eyes closed. The house had become claustrophobic. There wasn’t room for Bobby, Nathanial, me, and all the things we weren’t saying. Or the things we are.

Bobby and I had been arguing all night. No, not arguing.

Just talking at each other. At the top of our lungs.

He wanted me to go back to Firth. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t.

My skin had slipped, but I hadn’t shifted, and now all that heat, all that magic of Firth, was gone again. Locked away in a dead coil. Maybe I’d reach it again, someday. And maybe then I’d go back to Firth. Maybe.

We were both on edge. The gate would open tomorrow night, and we both felt Firth’s call. Not that it was unpleasant.

The call hummed through my body, soft, cooing. It made me think of lazy summer days spent lounging in the grass, catnapping to the sound of a trickling stream.

I opened my eyes and realized I’d turned the direction of the closest gate. I frowned and forced myself to turn away.

The call was the same as it had been before I’d become a vampire. I’d ignored it every full moon for the past five years.

I’d ignore it this month, too.

The cabin door clicked open behind me.

What now?

It swished closed, and I waited, not turning around.

Nathanial. It had to be—Bobby would have spoken by now. I didn’t hear him trudge down the steps, but his heat suddenly filled the air behind my back. His hands landed on my shoulders, and then his fingers moved to my hair, gently combing it.

I had the urge to lean into him, to wrap my arms around his waist and breathe in his scent. Frowning, I stepped away from his hands and turned. Danger had drawn us together in Demur, but now we were home. And we need to talk.

But my tongue was too thick in my mouth, deadening my words. My feet itched to move. Maybe a quick walk through the woods…?

No.

I’d made the decision to stop running. So here I was, facing things. I swallowed and hugged my arms across my chest. It wasn’t that I needed the comfort, well, at least that wasn’t all of it, but more than anything, I was afraid I’d reach for Nathanial if I didn’t restrain my hands.

“When are we supposed to see Tatius?” I asked, because something had to fill the silence.

“He will allow us a few nights before he demands our presence. We should report to him of our own volition before that time.”

But he didn’t suggest we go now, or even later tonight.

Neither of us were ready to deal with more vampire politics yet. But we’d go. Eventually. We had to. And then we’d find out exactly what Tatius had meant when he said “our companion.” I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation.

But before that happened, there was something else I had to know. And that meant having the other conversation both of us had been avoiding all night.

“So what is the deal, Nathanial? The way I feel about you, is it real? Is it me? You? The stupid, mooncursed vampire bond we share? What is it?”

He let out a breath. “Kitten, my powers control perception. The ability to trick the eye, the ear. My abilities have no sway over emotions.” His gaze dropped. “Yours do.”

My hands fell to my sides, and I stared at him, but I barely had time to register his words, much less to respond, before magic crawled over my skin—magic that didn’t feel like Gil’s—and a green light flashed behind me.

I whirled around. The judge stood several feet behind me.

He frowned at the snow surrounding his polished shoes. With a wave of his hand, the snow melted in a three-foot radius around him. A heartbeat later it evaporated. Nodding his head in a self-satisfied manner, he straightened his already pristine suit. Then he looked at me. Nathanial slid his hand over mine, and I grasped it.

“Hello, my little endangered abomination,” the judge said, his lips curving to show flat white teeth. “I have a job for you.”