Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Abruptly, he imagined Apex walking in. The vampire’s presence would suck in all the air molecules and ruin the brittle order of the place, messing up the bed Callum had made earlier, pitching the clothes in the old-fashioned wardrobe around, breaking all the dishes and glasses in the cupboard. He’d even tear the mirrored medicine cabinet out of the bathroom wall, and smash the claw-footed porcelain tub and the sink.
Hell, that male would bring down the structure. Until it was unrecognizable.
Even as he didn’t touch a damn thing.
Cranking his head to the side, Callum narrowed his eyes on the duffle and the suitcase he’d pushed under the bed. When he’d unpacked them, he’d expected to stay until the weather turned warm, and the buds came out on the bushes and trees.
He wasn’t going to make it to spring. Not if Apex was going to be in the big house.
“I need to leave now.”
His torso rose on his hips, as if he were coming awake in a crypt like something that was dead and shouldn’t have been able to move. Like he was the human stereotype of a vampire. And going with that flow, it was ironic that between him and Apex, he was the one who wasn’t really alive—
The sound of heavy boots coming up the stairs was not a surprise, and he told himself to get vertical. Put some clothes on. Pull himself together—
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He hadn’t closed the damn door.
At least he could close his eyes.
“I’m fine,” Callum said without bothering to keep the edge out of his voice.
There was a pause. “You’re fine? Is that why you’re on the floor, staining that rug red with blood?”
Apex’s voice was a deep, low rasp, the kind of thing that had, years and years ago, made a wolven think about things that were best done without clothes on.
“I don’t need—” Callum jumped as he popped his lids and found the vampire standing over him. “Do you have any concept of personal space.”
“Not in a medical emergency I don’t.”
Lifting his leg, Callum pointed to his ankle—which, okay, fine, was dripping a little. “You call this a medical emergency? I’d hate to see you with a real problem.”
He regretted the comeback as soon as it hit the airwaves. Of course, the male had already dealt with that. When Callum’s body had been in bad shape.
But who needed to bring that up.
“Where are you going?” Callum demanded as the guy turned around and headed to the bathroom.
As the vampire barged into the loo, he threw the light switch—and there was altogether way too much to see. Down below, in the snowstorm, it had been easier not to focus on the male.
Now clarity was coming at him. Like a freight train.
Apex was more muscular than before, and his face had filled out in a way that made his raw beauty even more bold and striking. His dark hair was cut in a classic high-and-tight, like he was in the military, and snowflakes were melting in a lazy way on top. He was dressed in black leather, and all that hide over all that physical power was another reason to look away. But come on, like that vampire was ever going to go dad bod? And yes, there were weapons on him, a hunting knife holstered at his waist on one side, that gun he’d shot off at the sky under his arm. There was probably more, hidden away, but well within reach—
Snow was also melting on the collar and the shoulders of the jacket, and for a split second, he imagined himself getting up, going across . . . running his hands over the leather and clearing off the cold flakes . . .
If his life had taken a different course all those years ago, he would have done that. And it would have been natural because Apex would have been living here, too. And they would have been happy, buying each other flowers even in the winter—
Nice frickin’ fantasy. Which was a total waste of neuropathways. One, you didn’t get a do-over in life. And two, happily ever afters were fiction.
“I’m fine,” Callum called out as he looked at his ankle properly.
Just a couple of puncture wounds. No big deal. He’d had them before.
After Apex got the water running in the sink, the vampire started going through that medicine cabinet and then the cupboards.
“What are you looking for in there,” Callum muttered. “A black hole?”
“Why don’t you have a first aid kit in here?”
FFS, he barely kept food in the kitchen. And Mr. Medicine wanted a transplant team?
When Apex finally came out, he had two smaller towels with him. One was damp and sudsy. Guess the dry one was for . . . well, drying off—
Nope. The thing was put across Callum’s hips.