Demon Night

Ethan’s mouth tilted up, but the lines beside his eyes didn’t echo his smile. “He sure did look awful sorry. And I didn’t speak with her, but she seemed all right, Charlie.”
    “That’s good.” She couldn’t come up with a better response; he was so close, and she was so, so tired. She cleared her throat. “Did I sleep the whole day?”
    “Yes. It’s half past eight.”
    She blinked. Sunset was at seven thirty, and she’d woken just after it the night before. “That late?”
    “Yes.” His eyes closed for a long second before he met hers again. “You hungry?”
    “No. A little, maybe—but not like last time.” She sighed, rose up onto her elbow. “I should probably call Old Matthew before it gets too—”
    “It can wait a spell, Charlie.” Ethan’s palm smoothed over her shoulder, brought her closer to him. “And if you feed now, when you’re not too hungry, we can see if that’s why it was hurting last night.”
    “Oh.” Her gaze fell to his neck, and her thirst swelled, a mild ache in her fangs.
    Mild… not uncontrollable. She scooted toward him; he was on his side, but she was leaning so far over she was almost on her stomach, her thigh against the front of his trousers.
    Sexual excitement was threading through her veins now, almost indistinguishable from the thirst—but Ethan wasn’t hard.
    She touched his throat, his skin like rough satin beneath her fingers. “Just feeding again?”
    He nodded. “Yes.”
    There was an odd, hollow note in his voice. She studied his face, looking for evidence of whatever was causing it, but didn’t see anything except an expressionless mask.
    “Ethan…is everything okay?”
    His only response was to cup the back of her head, draw her gently down to his neck. Her fingers rose to unbutton his shirt.
    “Are you sure?” She smoothed his collar back until it folded over his suspender, and she had to stifle her soft moan of anticipation when she revealed the muscle bunched atop his shoulder. Almost of their own volition, her hips rolled against the mattress. “Because I could probably find a rat or something. That was how I earned my extra spending money when I was in New York. I used to steal my roommate’s flute, and head on down to the subway—”
    Her lips touched his throat. Ethan tensed beside her. Something was wrong. Something was wrong, but his scent, so masculine, almost undetectable, was filling her head. She hadn’t known it was there, but now that she’d inhaled it, she didn’t think she’d ever get enough.
    She eased into him, his skin parting beneath her fangs with the faintest pressure. His hands clenched on her hips, his pleasured groan an echo of hers, a hum against her tongue. And then there was Ethan , heated and liquid, a symphony of strings and reeds, all rising together in a strong, steady beat.
    So incredible. She memorized the sound, tried to tease out the notes. The agonizing scream was there, but she barely heard it beneath the luscious tones that made up his lifeblood, beneath Ethan’s harsh breathing in her ear. She pushed him onto his back and slung her leg over his stomach.
    And because she could stop, she did, licking across the already-healing punctures.
    Ethan’s hands settled on her waist. “Was it hurting you, Charlie?”
    “No.” She kissed his jaw, his chin. “I could feel it, but it’s not so painful this time.”
    “It shouldn’t be painful at all.”
    She lifted her head, met his eyes. “Maybe not, but it’s not so bad.” She paused, studied him. His features were still unreadable. “And you’re okay?”
    A smile broke the flat line of his mouth. “Even though I don’t mean to, Charlie, you take just one little bite and I’m stretching out my britches and feeling mighty fine.” His hands caught her cheeks, prevented her from sitting up. “Now, don’t you go looking or touching, or this won’t be just a feeding.”
    She nodded breathlessly. “What about later tonight?”
    “I’d like that, Miss Charlie.” His gaze fell to her lips, and his throat worked before he repeated softly, “I’d like that an awful lot.”
    “Me, too.” She smiled, dropped a kiss to his mouth before trailing her tongue down to his throat. “I’m going to bite you again, Ethan.”
    “All right. I reckon I’ll just lay here and moan.”
    She was laughing when her fangs pierced him. Could he feel her emotions when she fed from him? The erotic pleasure of it, obviously—but did she send