Page 93 of The Fire Went Wild
But mostly, she’s excited as hell about Edie, and that makes me feel good.
Not quite as good as killing, but—you know. Good.
I’m surprised, then, when I hear the knob turn and then see the hallway light as the door opens, angling across the bed. I roll over and there’s Charlotte, haloed by the light, her crimson hair blazing.
I want to kiss her. Fuck her. Strangle her. Do all three at once. Or have her do all three to me.
“Did I wake you up?” she whispers as she slips into the room.
“No.” I roll onto my side, and she closes the door but then stands beside it like she can’t decide what to do next. “Are you tired?” I ask. “I really don’t need to sleep much these days. You can have the bed.”
It’s dark in the room. The only light is the blend of moonlight and porch light that filters in through the curtains. It makes Charlotte look like a ghost.
“Neither of us have slept for like twenty-four hours,” she says.
I sit up, remembering at the last minute that I stripped my shirt off before I lay down. Charlotte’s eyes linger on me, though, and I swear they catch the light like a cat’s.
She can see in the dark. She might not admit it to herself, but she can.
And she’s looking at me.
“I’ve gone for longer,” I say. “Just, uh, let me get dressed and?—”
“No.”
Charlotte’s voice rings out across the room, startling me into stillness. She creeps forward and crawls onto the bed, and I can hear her heart thudding. It’s not fear, though. She’s definitely not afraid.
“I just mean, that’s not necessary. I don’t mind.” She stops, eye level with me. “If you want to sleep, it’s fine.”
“I’m not actually tired.” What the fuck is wrong with me? Do I want to curl up in bed with her or not?
But then something sparks in Charlotte’s gaze. Something fiery and hot that snags in my thoughts and makes my dick throb.
“I am tired,” she says, still staring at me. “Exhausted, really. But I?—”
Her heartbeat quickens. It’s so fucking loud I swear it’s rattling the walls, and I wonder, briefly, if Sawyer can hear it.
“I was thinking,” she says slowly. “About what you told me in the car. How you liked, um—” She gives a nervous laugh and covers her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I’m going to suggest this. You can say no.”
Everything about her is sending blood flooding into my cock. Her bright, shiny eyes. Her thundering heart. Herscent.
She’s not scared at all, no. She’s turned on.
“What do you want to do?” I squeeze the blanket, dropping my eyes down to her chest. Her dress strap has slipped, revealing a flash of lacy bra underneath.
Charlotte bites her bottom lip, her eyes flicking around. “I—I wanted to thank you. For bringing me here. Showing me that Edie’s okay.” She moves closer, crawling like a temptress over the bed. I don’t dare move, afraid I’m going to scare her off. She stops, her gaze boring into me. “I also wanted—” She hesitates, and I’m about ready to scream at her to spit it out. My whole body feels like it’s on fire.
“I felt it,” she whispers. “That I’m like you. That I’m a Hunter. When Edie was telling me how Sawyer saved her life, and how I saved her life, too—I saw what I am. And it didn’t make me sad. It just feltright.”
Her words completely floor me. When I brought Charlotte here, I obviously hoped this would happen, but I wasn’t sure if it would. But I realize I was right, in giving her the thing she left California for:
Edie, alive and well and willing to accept her as she is. Just like I am.
I grab her, pulling her into an awkward hug, but she melts into me so it’s not awkward at all. “I’m glad,” I say into the top of her hair, even though it’s completely inadequate.
Charlotte nuzzles against my neck, her breath warm, and my cock strains against my underwear. “The last few hours,” she says softly. “All I could think about was thanking you.”
“Thanking me?”