For Love and Blood and Fury (Lilith’s Legacy #1)

Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Drinking hadn’t turbo-charged Elena’s healing, but it had apparently turned Marisol into a stone statue. It would make for an odd pose, a beautiful woman sitting in an armchair, her expression blank. While Zuri prepared a human meal in the kitchen, Marisol breathed the question she’d been apparently crafting for fifteen minutes.

“If I’d known you were involved with someone,” Marisol whispered without looking away from Zuri’s bed across the room. Elena sensed that her gaze was unfocused, all the energy in her body being hoarded by an overthinking brain. “I would never have kissed you,” she finished, words weighed down with unnecessary shame.

“I’m not.” Elena used the armrest to lift herself and reposition her body to face Marisol. “We were… Zuri would say we were together a long time ago , but time is extraordinarily relative.”

Marisol glanced at her, mossy green and bark brown eyes brimming with confusion and disappointment. It was the same chemical signal her body emitted, and Elena had to stop the feeling from invading her own chest. “So that bump and grind I walked in on was… what exactly?”

Elena concealed her amusement when Marisol’s aura flashed with vibrant jealousy. The unexpected intensity of the emotion made Elena’s heart itch to race. What else was lurking under the nurse’s kind and compassionate veneer?

“Feeding creates a profound sense of connection,” Elena explained. “Imagine the highest ecstasy you’ve ever experienced and double it. It’s sensual and close?—”

“Yeah, that much was obvious.” The words snapped like an unfurled lash.

Leaning back, Elena couldn’t suppress her grin. The energy radiating from Marisol was absolutely intoxicating. “Jealousy is… such an alluring quality.”

“I’m not jealous.” Marisol’s eyes were neon, bright and raw with the lie.

Elena’s desire roared to life. “There is truly no reason to be. You are so very Zuri’s type, even if she wouldn’t admit it until you’re writhing in her bed.” Elena glanced toward the kitchen where she could see Zuri’s thick hourglass figure. “And there’s not a creature attracted to women who is not into Zuri,” she decided.

Marisol’s attention drifted to Zuri, who had her back to them while standing at the stove. Marisol was curious. Elena didn’t need to read the chemical reactions in her body to know that. It had been plain on her face when she walked in on them earlier.

Parted lips, skin warming, arousal rising unbidden. The way she’d looked at Zuri straddling Elena’s hips, chest in her face, hadn’t been with anything but interest. Even now, looking at Zuri was influencing Marisol. Nervous excitement filled her—wild and unsure. She was a girl on the verge of a soul vaporizing crush.

“I’m sorry.” Marisol shook her head, fending off the desires she couldn’t hide from Elena no matter what she said. “Are you trying to play matchmaker here? What the hell is this?” Her brows furrowed, doubt suffocating her cravings.

Elena rolled her eyes. “Why did you have to be raised in the puritanical mortal world?” She lamented Marisol’s undoubtedly limited view of love and relationships.

“Like what? You all are just free love sleeping with whomever, no commitments, doing whatever the hell you want?—”

“Do you have any idea how many concepts you’ve combined?”

Elena tilted her head, but her lock on Marisol’s eyes was unwavering. She didn’t really believe Marisol was close-minded. She’d barely had to exert any influence over her when she told her of the preternatural world. Probably because her subconscious had always been aware of her own gifts, even if her waking mind refused to believe it.

And even now, Elena had used no influence to get Marisol to leave the hospital with them. She’d come—and stayed—on her own. And the limited influence she’d used to keep Marisol calm when revealing her vampire nature had nothing to do with why she was looking at Zuri with lust in her pretty eyes.

Deciding that she had nothing better to do than sit there until she was healed, Elena explained, “Every pairing is different. I have had different arrangements with different partners. When Zuri and I were together, we had rules.”

“Rules?” Marisol’s judgment abated, curiosity returning like the sun cracking the horizon at first light.

“Both parties had to agree upon any additions to our intimacy, which I hope is an obvious condition.”

“So it was just sex then.” Disappointment was evident in Marisol’s voice. “With the other… partners,” she added, like her life depended on getting the term right.

“It was,” Elena admitted, reading every conflicting emotion warring in Marisol’s nervous system. “But it doesn’t have to be. Should all parties consent…” She didn’t conceal the points of her fangs that had returned on their own. “Anything is possible.” She let her gaze drop to Marisol’s mouth. Dressed in nothing but Zuri’s T-shirt and shorts too short to count, she was mouthwatering. Elena eyed her hungrily before adding, “All you need to know is that you’re safe with us and I like you very much. Well…” She found her attention fixed on Marisol’s lips again. “That, and I’d very much like to kiss you again.”

Desire claimed Marisol like a tide. It warmed her freckled cheeks and brightened the green in her eyes. And then jealousy came roaring back to life, mixing with her lust, amplifying it.

How unexpected.

“It looked like your mouth has been plenty busy,” Marisol said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fangs exposed, Elena bit her bottom lip and watched Marisol’s eyes darken. “Gods, stop being jealous. It’s such a fucking turn on.”

Marisol tried to resist smirking, but Elena caught the twitch in her lip. The shift in her energy. She was open and curious and buzzing with anticipation.

“I’m going to see if Zuri needs help with anything.” Marisol stood, energy crackling.

Elena watched her saunter away. Legs muscular and long and exquisitely designed for wrapping around Elena’s neck. As soon as she was a few yards away in the kitchen, Elena cracked open the small window behind her, letting in the warm evening air.

She closed her eyes, ignored her other senses, and focused on the act of listening. She trusted Zuri’s wards; even Elena couldn’t break them. But she couldn’t be sure someone hadn’t tracked them.

Her enhanced hearing strained, filtering through the symphony of night sounds. The rustle of leaves in the wind, the chirping of crickets, the distant croaking of frogs and buzzing of insects. She was listening for the wrong footfall, the snap of a twig that didn’t belong, the unnatural silence that often preceded an attack.

Knowing that someone was out there hunting her filled her with a rabid rage. It didn’t matter if it was one or one thousand. Even if she couldn’t walk, she wouldn’t let any of them leave with their lives. Not again.