48
Savannah
My body shook roughly.
“Wake up, Savannah.”
I groaned and rolled over, and then, with a yelp of surprise, I pulled the sheets up around me. “Jaxson?”
He usually never came into the bedroom when I—
Oh. Shit.
With a wave of horror, the events of the night before came rushing back to me. As soon as we’d stepped through the door, we’d fought, and then, in a fit of adrenaline-powered rage, we’d fucked like animals.
I wanted to die of shame. We’d hadn’t even taken the time to wash the vampire blood off our bodies.
It was so dirty, but lord, it had been hot.
An aching heat throbbed in my center, and embarrassment flashed through me as I looked out the window, trying desperately to hide the faint smile that spread across my lips. I covered my flushed face as the truth of it all sank in. “Oh. My. God.”
“My thoughts exactly, mate,” Jaxson said, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he opened the window blinds, letting in the bright sun.
I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face.
And then throw him down in bed again? Wolfie asked with fake innocence, already knowing the answer.
My cheeks burned as need fogged my mind.
Was my brain ever going to work right again? That, or other parts?
I started pulling the sheets up around me as if more layers could shield me from the consequences of what I’d done. “Okay, we need to talk about what happened, because—”
“No time. They found Tony.”
“What?” My heart skipped a beat, and my skin turned ice cold.
That meant Dragan.
Trepidation froze me to my spot. “Is he…”
“According to Sam, he doesn’t remember what happened. Not even driving up to Michigan. But he doesn’t seem possessed, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
No relief came.
“He could be faking it. That, or if Dragan jumped ship, he could have slipped into anyone Tony met—even whoever it was that found him.”
“I know,” Jaxson growled, not even hiding the concern in his voice.
This was a disaster. Not last night, or our vampire murder spree in Mexico.
This.
When Dragan had been inside Tony, we knew who to look for. Now, he could be anywhere.
“Do you think you could tell if he was possessed?” Jaxson asked, crossing to the bedroom window that looked out on the city.
Could I?
Dragan inhabited a new body each time. Kahanov. Grayling. Tony.
But I knew his signature. I’d felt it at Pere Cheney, and when I first saw Grayling.
Bile rose in my throat. “I’d know that fucker on sight, no matter who he was hiding in. He tried to force himself on me. I’ll never forget that signature.”
Jaxson turned. “Good. Our second problem is that we’ve got Dragan’s finger, but the witch said we needed to find someone who could cast a curse to bind him to it.”
I sat up and reached for my phone, still holding the sheets around me. “I asked Neve about that yesterday. She knows a woman at the Order, Devi Coltrane, who works with dark enchantments or something and might be able to help us. I got her number, but I wasn’t sure about working with someone at the Order you didn’t know—”
“Thanks, but in this case, there’s no room for division. You can call her from the road. Get your clothes on, and let’s go see if Tony is clean or still possessed.”
My new Vera Wang red silk dress was draped over a chair. Once beautiful, it had been reduced to ribbons and stained with dark patches of blood.
A deep pang of loss reverberated through my soul.
I hardly knew you, but I loved you, little dress.
Lord knew where my pumps were. My eyes widened. I hadn’t remembered taking them off… had I screwed Jaxson with shoes on? I didn’t think so, but it didn’t matter. Today called for jeans and my trusty ass-kicking boots.
“Ahem,” I said, and looked emphatically from Jaxson to the door.
“But we—”
“Get out,” I ordered.
With a grin that was a little too self-satisfied, he ambled to the door. “Be quick.”
* * *