Blood & Honey #1

*Chapter Nine*

Watching the gentle rise and fall of Kinley's chest, her body jerks and her brows furrow as the dawn of a new day breaks. I've been watching her sleep for hours, tossing and turning as if she keeps dreaming about drowning in a river of blood. She's been relatively still for the past half hour, just small tics and twitches here and there.

I forgot how much sleep humans require. It is no wonder they all lust for immortality. They sleep half their lives away.

Kinley has been asleep for over fourteen hours. I'm getting stiff lying here waiting for her to wake up.

After another half-hour passes, I've had all I can take. I lean in and expel an icy-cold current of air directly into Kinley's face. Her brows knit tighter together, so I do it again, this time with a little more force. All this results in is her pulling the covers over her face as an unintelligible groan filters from her lips.

About three-dozen things I could do to wake her enter my mind. I choose the one that causes my mouth to curve into a sadistic grin. With my mouth, I take hold of the ear of hers exposed to me and plunge my tongue into her ear canal—cold and wet meets warm and dry.

"Morning," I say as Kinley gazes at me through sleep hazed eyes that appear to be having a hard time making the transition from her dream-state to the reality I have forced her to come back to.

If she only knew my cold tongue in her ear was the force that woke her. She probably would try to pay me back with one of her pencils. Or that offense may earn me one of her higher caliber weapons.

Kinley's sea-green eyes widen. The thump-thump of her pulse skyrockets as she matches my voice to the blur becoming clearer the more alert her brain becomes during its waking process.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask simply to mess with her because the expression on her face right now is utterly priceless.

Kinley bolts up in bed, her hands flying to her neck to see if there are pieces of flesh missing. She's lucky there aren't because it was tempting, very fang-achingly tempting.

Once she feels satisfied her neck is still intact, she looks down at the arm she cut. There is no evidence of the sacrifice she tried to make in order to save one of her own kind, not even a scar thanks to my diligence.

I slip my hand under the covers that separate us and skim my fingertips along her thigh suggestively. "I don't think I slept at all. There were a lot of other things on my mind that kept me awake."

That does it. Kinley falls out of bed in her attempt to escape my unwelcome touch.

If I were to allow myself to breathe in the atmosphere that surrounds us, I bet I would be drowning in the scent of her fear as it mixes with her sweet, cinnamon blood.

Gritting my teeth, I shut down that thought before it has a chance to reach my loins.

Ground rules. You have a purpose for being here, I remind myself.

This would be so much easier if this human's blood crafted only one type of hunger in me. I met Kinley less than two weeks ago, and I already long for the days when all I felt toward humans was bloodlust.

It's hard to keep my thoughts focused when Kinley has just turned as pale as the linens she is tangled in.

I can't help it.

I involuntary breathe in to catch a whiff of the sheer panic that is so plainly written all over her features.

Her clothes were covered in blood so I stripped her down to the bare necessities. Based on the way all the color has drained from her complexion, I think she would have preferred if I had kept her in her scarlet-stained clothes.