Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)(75)

“I wasn’t expecting the music to slow down,” I said. “Really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. I totally believe you. This isn’t so bad, though. How am I doing?”

“You’re doing great.”

And he was right—this wasn’t so bad at all. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, being out here with him, underneath the dark sky, the music filling the air. I wanted to tell him right then how happy I was, how just being near him filled me with a joy I had never experienced before, but part of me remained afraid of voicing my thoughts aloud. The possibility of being rejected was still enough to paralyze me from acting on the happiness I felt—I couldn’t bear the thought of opening up to him, only to find out he didn’t feel the same way. Part of me did think the feeling was mutual—the glances we’d shared, his open concern for my well-being, the way his look could make me feel like I was the only person on the planet—yet doubt still loomed over me. I knew what it was like to love someone, only to have those feelings not be reciprocated—how many times had my birth parents rejected me because alcohol was more important?

So instead, I just smiled up at him, and enjoyed being so close.





Chapter Twenty-Four





Navan and I stayed at the festival a little while longer, but then he whispered to me that we should head back to the ship.

“Do you think it’s awake?” I asked.

“Yeah, I do. And I know it won’t be able to escape or anything, but I’d still like to get back there before it starts trying to get away.”

We slipped away from the festival, the music, the laughter, the warmth from the fires fading into the distance as we walked away.

“That was fun,” I said. “I’m glad we went.”

“It wasn’t on the agenda, but yeah, I had a good time.”

My arms swung back and forth slightly as we walked, and my hand brushed up against Navan’s. His fingers interlaced with mine, sending a surprise rush of pleasure up my arm. He glanced at me.

“This okay?”

“Yes,” I said breathlessly.

“Good.” He nodded. “I want to keep you close. Can’t risk Donnel trying to whisk you away again.”

I laughed. “It was Dolan.”

“He wasn’t that good of a dancer.”

“Hey, it’s an open invitation—whenever you feel like impressing me with your dance moves, I’m all for it.”

He squeezed my hand. “Don’t hold your breath.”

When we got to the ship, I was forced to let go of his hand and followed him up to one of the ship’s windows. I pressed my face against it and peered inside.

“It’s still asleep,” I said.

Navan stood next to me, a slight frown on his face. “No, it’s not,” he said. “It’s pretending to be asleep.”

“How do you know? It looks asleep to me.”

Navan continued to stare at it. “I can sense its energy. If it were sleeping, its energy would be at a much lower frequency. But what I’m picking up right now is basically off the charts, which tells me this thing is going to attempt to pull off some sort of ambush. Stay right here—I’m going to open the door.”

I stayed by the window and watched as Navan slowly opened the compartment door. The shifter suddenly sprang, though it didn’t get far because of the ropes it was tied up in. Navan gave it a kick and sent it sprawling. I went inside.

“Well, well, well, look who’s awake,” Navan said. “Good morning, sunshine. Damn, you things sure are ugly.”

The shifter growled, and its eyes swiveled to me. Navan was right—it was ugly, like a giant newborn bird, with its pale, wrinkled skin. Instead of a beak and fused-over eyes, though, it had a wide, flat nose, a gaping mouth full of shark-like teeth, and huge red-veined eyes that seemed mostly made up of iris.

“Give me the antidote,” it said. “And I’ll change into something more aesthetically pleasing.”

“Ha!” Navan’s laugh was like a bark. “Yeah, sure, let me get you that antidote, and while I’m at it, how about a bubble bath and a foot rub? You’re not getting anything. Nice try, though. We’ve got some questions for you.”

The shifter stretched its mouth into what was probably supposed to be a smile, but looked more like a terrifying grimace. “I’m not answering your questions.”

“Then you don’t get the antidote, and you’re forever doomed to be an ugly little sewer rat.”

The shifter stared at him, and I could see it weighing the possibility of having to spend life forever in one form. “At least untie me enough so I can sit up,” it finally said.

“Fine,” Navan replied after a moment. “But I swear, if you try anything, you’re going to wish I had killed you.”

“Does making idle threats to your victims make you feel more powerful, bloodsucker?”

“Shut up,” Navan said. “We’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about you. I’m untying you on the condition that you’re going to answer my questions. If you don’t, these ropes are going to get a whole lot more uncomfortable.”

Navan undid one of the ropes, and the shifter sat up. Its skin gathered in loose pools of flesh around its elbows and knees. It saw me looking and it grimaced.