Free Flowers and Fangs (Stake and Dust series, Book II) by Karen Michelle Nutt Page B

his
arms. She rested her head against the vampire's chest with a
sigh.
    For reasons Derek didn't wish to admit, it
irked him that she looked so comfortable in the vampire's arms.
"May I ask why you told her to sleep? He didn't bother to hide his
irritation.
    "If you haven't realized, she's
exhausted."
    He noticed, but it didn't make seeing Sloane
in the vampire's arms any less disturbing.
    "Not that I don't mind holding her," Tremayne
said with amusement, "but do you have a place where she can rest
comfortably?
    "I'll take her." He didn't want the vampire
to hold her another moment. Tremayne relinquished his bundle
without a fuss and stepped away, giving him room to pass by. He
cleared his throat and didn't glance at his sister or Tremayne as
he headed down the hall. "I'll be right back."
    Derek held her close and her hand rested on
his chest. God, she felt good in his arms. Soft and feminine, and
her hair smelled like her shampoo, a pleasant aroma he was learning
to identify as her .
    He placed Sloane on his bed and covered her
with a comforter his mother had made for him. She snuggled onto her
side with a sigh. He wished now he had placed her on the other side
of the bed. His pillow would smell like her. That's all he needed
to have: her scent teasing him when he needed a few hours of
shuteye.
    He left the door slightly ajar and joined his
sister and Tremayne in the kitchen. His sister had made a pot of
coffee. "There's cream in the refrigerator," he told her.
    "Already found it." She gestured toward the
creamer on the counter. She poured two cups and handed him one.
    Derek eyed Tremayne over the rim as he took a
generous swallow. The vampire leaned against the countertop with
his arms crossed over his chest. He wore jeans and a T-shirt,
nothing that claimed he was a badass vampire, but the man was
rugged and built like a warrior—an original vamp. He'd seen battles
where the bards sung about the warriors' bravery.
    "I know Sloane needed rest," Derek blurted
out, "but I also know you had another reason to send her to
bed."
    Tremayne nodded. "Intuitive like your sister,
I see."
    He harrumphed. "Let's get to the point
here."
    "Sloane was infected by the blood of the
Nosferatu, a Romanian sept."
    Derek lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Yeah,
tell me something I don't know."
    "Meaning there's no doubt in my mind: She
will turn. It's just a matter of when. The Nosferatu's bite is like
a poison that spreads through the bloodstream, mutating it."
    Derek placed his coffee cup down and cursed
under his breath. "Again, tell me something I don't know."
    "I know you care about the girl," Tremayne
said.
    "I just met her," Derek barked. A total lie,
but he wasn't getting into that now. He cared about Sloane, cared
about what would become of her, and dammit he didn't want her to
become a being he'd be forced to hunt down and stake.
    His sister rested her hand on his shoulder.
"It's all right to feel something for her. I understand what you're
going through."
    He glanced at Cassandra. Of course she
understood. She fell in love with a vampire. Not that he was saying
he was in love with Sloane, but he felt responsible for her and he
liked her. He really liked her. "What the heck is wrong with us,
Cass? We're hunters for Christ's sake. We rid the world of beings
that would sooner see the humans vanquished than learn to live
among them in peace. This has been the Hayes Family's motto for
centuries."
    She nodded. "But not all preternatural beings
are evil. You know I'm right. Why else would you have called
me?"
    He squeezed his eyes closed and hoped the
throbbing behind them wouldn't develop into a full on migraine.
"What am I doing?" He somehow lost his way. He'd let a pair of
beautiful blue eyes hamper his decision to do what he'd been
trained to do. Sloane was infected by the most evil of septs. Their
bloodlust was unmatched. No matter how kind Sloane was now, she'd
lose that compassion in the end.
    He knew what he had to do. He opened his