Page 23 of Burn for the Dragon
Hawke turned to face her but didn’t join her. There were way better things they could be doing on that bed than talking.
Her fingers twisted in her lap, and she said nothing for a few minutes. But he had all the patience in the world, because he knew once they left this room, this apartment, things would never be the same between them again. So, he waited, drinking in every detail until she looked up at him and began to talk.
“We were separated at birth and both grew up in foster care. I would’ve never known about him except for these weird memories—daydreams?—I’d always had of being around a baby. Later I found out I’m actually older by two years, and those memories weren’t just my imagination.” A wistful smile softened her features. “I remember the way his face would get all wrinkled up when he’d cry and peeking at him through the bars of his crib when he was sleeping.” The smile fell. “But that’s about it. Until I started looking into it, I never even knew if they were real or just the creation of a lonely kid who’d always wanted a sibling.”
“You grew up in foster homes?”
“Yeah.”
Her tone and the careful set of her expression told him a lot about her experiences in the system. “How did you find him?”
“I have some connections, thanks to my job. I got a hold of a copy of the records from when I was first put into foster care.” She gave him a smile that took his breath. “I was right. There were two of us.” The smile slipped from her face. “We were in the first home together for about a year, and then we got separated and lost track of each other.”
Hawke studied her closely, processing every emotion that now ran through his blood. She was telling him the truth. “Do you know who your birth parents are?”
She shook her head. “No. There was only ‘Jane and John Doe’ on the records I found. I don’t even know if they were alive or dead when the state got a hold of us.”
He wanted to ask her more about growing up in foster care. Were her foster parents good to her? Was someone there to help her with her homework? Did they feed her well? Provide for her? Help her deal with her differences? Did they learn to sign? Or did they raise her like any hearing child and that’s how she became so good at speaking and reading lips?
But he quashed the urge. That information wasn’t important right now.
He went to sit beside her, and she twisted around to face him, bending one leg on the bed. He caught a flash of the heaven between her legs just before she pushed the tails of his shirt down to cover herself and he had to clear his throat. It shouldn’t be possible, but he wanted her again. “Everly, I have to tell you something.” Because there was no way he could not tell her. She deserved that much, at least.
“What? You’re married?” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes were worried. “That would really suck, being that you live so long. Or do you have an open marriage? It would make sense.” All the fun fell from her face. “Do you live forever? Is that true?”
Hawke huffed out a breath, something between a laugh and a sound of impatience. “Yes. I’ll live a really long time, provided no one chops off my head or rips my heart out of my chest.” And so will she. “No. I’m not married. Never have been.”
“Do vampires even get married?”
“Sometimes. Not normally to each other.”
“Why not?”
“Because vampires need human blood”—or shifter blood, as they are more human than vampires—“to survive.”
“Oh.” She dropped her eyes to her hands where they twisted in her lap.
He dipped his head to catch her attention. “I have to tell you something about your brother, and about you.”
She must have noticed the tension gnawing at his shoulders, for the steel was back in her spine and little worry lines appeared between her brows. “What would you know about my brother, or me, for that matter, that I don’t already know?”
He ignored her defensive tone. Words jumbled on his tongue until he heaved a sigh and decided the easiest way would just be to show her. So, he got up and went rummaging around in her bathroom until he found a little hand-held mirror. Returning to the bed, he hooked a hand behind her neck and brought her in for a kiss. He meant it to be quick, just enough to re-awaken the passion in her. But his body betrayed him, and by the time he pulled away, they were both fighting for breath.
At least he’d managed to awaken the beast inside of her. Hawke held up the mirror to her face.
At first, she kept her burning eyes on him, on his mouth, ignoring the evidence right in front of her, until he indicated for her to look in the mirror with a nod of his head.
Gray eyes tinged with glowing red fire widened in surprise as she stared at her reflection. Taking the mirror from his hands, she brought it in closer. Then she threw it on the bed and ran over to the mirror on the wall, Hawke’s shirt flapping open to either side.
Hawke came up behind her. She was breathtakingly beautiful with her red hair curling in crazy ringlets around her pale face and her bare breasts exposed to his appreciative eye. Eyes the color of a flaming pink sunset flicked up to his face.
Fear tainted her scent and chilled his ardor. Her fear.
She stared with horror into the mirror. “Hawke, what is this?”
Unable to stop himself from offering what comfort he could, he pulled her away and took her hands. They trembled violently within his own. He tried to tell her and had to start over twice because her eyes kept drifting back to her reflection. “Do you remember telling me about the winged creature you saw that night?”
She gave him a stiff nod.
