the material of her navy-blue sweater. She’d forgotten her watch again.
How much time had passed since Seth had entered the attractive two-story home? Ten minutes? Twenty? Fifty?
She walked from the front porch, down the long sidewalk to the driveway and back. The house lay several miles outside of Greensboro, where homes were few and far between and neighbors resided far enough away that they could neither be seen nor heard.
The house before Ami boasted reddish brick with a connected two-car garage. A brass kick plate adorned a shiny black door. The yard ... could really use some attention. Leaves and pine needles had piled up. What grass remained visible needed mowing, weeding, and edging. Left to their own devices, grass runners crept across the sidewalk in an attempt to bury the pavement. Ami absently kicked at one as she passed it for the fortieth or fiftieth time.
Her breath frosted on the cool air. Shivering, she wished she hadn’t had to discard her jacket earlier to keep Seth from seeing the blood stains on it.
Seth’s warm voice finally filled her head. Would you please join us, Ami?
Wiping suddenly damp palms on her jeans, she smoothed her sweater, checked her curly, red hair to ensure it had not escaped the neat ponytail that barely reached her shoulders, then picked up the small cooler Seth had left and resolutely approached the front door.
She raised her hand to knock, then froze when she heard the distinctive bing bong of the doorbell. Blinking, she looked down at the small glowing button she hadn’t depressed. The doorbell had rung, hadn’t it?
Bing bong.
She lowered her hand. This time she had actually seen the button move in and out as it rang itself. Surely Seth’s doing.
Bing bong.
If he had wanted her to ring the doorbell, why hadn’t he just said so?
Bing bong. Bing bong.
And why didn’t anyone answer? The persistent ringing rattled nerves already stretched taut. Even after a year and a half in Seth’s care, she felt a touch of panic whenever she met someone new. As she had earlier with the immortal, which actually hadn’t turned out too badly.
The door swung inward.
Ami looked up ... and felt a smile lift the edges of her lips as she took in the tall figure who darkened the doorway. For the second time that night, she thought the immortal would be incredibly handsome if his face weren’t tight with pain and his body mangled and saturated with blood.
Ebony hair surrounded his face in tangled waves and fell halfway down his back. His face, arms, and torso bore so many deep gashes that he looked like he had brawled with real wolves rather than vampires with a vicious pack mentality. His right arm had not yet healed. Judging by the way it hung, it had been dislocated. (Having had both of her own arms dislocated in the past, she knew how painful that could be.) And he carefully kept his weight off his left leg. Was it broken?
Broad shoulders, muscled arms and legs, and a narrow waist and hips were all enticingly visible now that his coat had been discarded.
This time, when Ami found herself tongue-tied, it had little to do with fear or anxiety. Especially when his eyes lit up with what might have been pleasure at finding her on his doorstep.
Leaning to one side, she peered past him and saw Seth propping up a fireplace mantel in the next room. “You made him answer the door?” she demanded. Seth was not one to witness the suffering of another without aiding him.
“Yes.”
She dared a quick peek up at the less than pleased expression on the man’s face, then looked again to Seth. “Why?”
“I was making a point.”
“Se-e-eth! I can’t believe you!” Frowning, she stepped inside and dropped the cooler. “Here, let me help you.”
The Immortal Guardian closed the door, but made no move toward her. Ami suspected the doorknob might be the only thing holding him upright.
Moving to his left side, she wrapped her right arm around his waist and drew his left across her
How much time had passed since Seth had entered the attractive two-story home? Ten minutes? Twenty? Fifty?
She walked from the front porch, down the long sidewalk to the driveway and back. The house lay several miles outside of Greensboro, where homes were few and far between and neighbors resided far enough away that they could neither be seen nor heard.
The house before Ami boasted reddish brick with a connected two-car garage. A brass kick plate adorned a shiny black door. The yard ... could really use some attention. Leaves and pine needles had piled up. What grass remained visible needed mowing, weeding, and edging. Left to their own devices, grass runners crept across the sidewalk in an attempt to bury the pavement. Ami absently kicked at one as she passed it for the fortieth or fiftieth time.
Her breath frosted on the cool air. Shivering, she wished she hadn’t had to discard her jacket earlier to keep Seth from seeing the blood stains on it.
Seth’s warm voice finally filled her head. Would you please join us, Ami?
Wiping suddenly damp palms on her jeans, she smoothed her sweater, checked her curly, red hair to ensure it had not escaped the neat ponytail that barely reached her shoulders, then picked up the small cooler Seth had left and resolutely approached the front door.
She raised her hand to knock, then froze when she heard the distinctive bing bong of the doorbell. Blinking, she looked down at the small glowing button she hadn’t depressed. The doorbell had rung, hadn’t it?
Bing bong.
She lowered her hand. This time she had actually seen the button move in and out as it rang itself. Surely Seth’s doing.
Bing bong.
If he had wanted her to ring the doorbell, why hadn’t he just said so?
Bing bong. Bing bong.
And why didn’t anyone answer? The persistent ringing rattled nerves already stretched taut. Even after a year and a half in Seth’s care, she felt a touch of panic whenever she met someone new. As she had earlier with the immortal, which actually hadn’t turned out too badly.
The door swung inward.
Ami looked up ... and felt a smile lift the edges of her lips as she took in the tall figure who darkened the doorway. For the second time that night, she thought the immortal would be incredibly handsome if his face weren’t tight with pain and his body mangled and saturated with blood.
Ebony hair surrounded his face in tangled waves and fell halfway down his back. His face, arms, and torso bore so many deep gashes that he looked like he had brawled with real wolves rather than vampires with a vicious pack mentality. His right arm had not yet healed. Judging by the way it hung, it had been dislocated. (Having had both of her own arms dislocated in the past, she knew how painful that could be.) And he carefully kept his weight off his left leg. Was it broken?
Broad shoulders, muscled arms and legs, and a narrow waist and hips were all enticingly visible now that his coat had been discarded.
This time, when Ami found herself tongue-tied, it had little to do with fear or anxiety. Especially when his eyes lit up with what might have been pleasure at finding her on his doorstep.
Leaning to one side, she peered past him and saw Seth propping up a fireplace mantel in the next room. “You made him answer the door?” she demanded. Seth was not one to witness the suffering of another without aiding him.
“Yes.”
She dared a quick peek up at the less than pleased expression on the man’s face, then looked again to Seth. “Why?”
“I was making a point.”
“Se-e-eth! I can’t believe you!” Frowning, she stepped inside and dropped the cooler. “Here, let me help you.”
The Immortal Guardian closed the door, but made no move toward her. Ami suspected the doorknob might be the only thing holding him upright.
Moving to his left side, she wrapped her right arm around his waist and drew his left across her
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