40

“ B ack up.” Clay held out his glasses between two long fingers, his gray-blue eyes staring at me in disbelief.

“You did what?” Wes sneered. Anger coated every word he spoke.

I had known it would be a mistake to tell them what happened, or at least to tell Clay what happened with Wes around. He was already overreacting to something so miniscule that I wanted to hit the rewind button on the entire conversation.

“We were in a pool.” I shrugged and corrected myself. “She said it’s called a bathing room.”

“There’s a bathing room?” Clay seemed more perplexed by that than anything and tugged out his rough sketch of floor plans, looking over the lines quickly, cursing under his breath as he went along.

“You finger-banged the monster?” Wes’s voice got higher. “Are you fucking insane?”

He didn’t want an honest answer.

“Think of it as testing to see how human she was?” I shrugged and Clay snorted, but Wes didn’t find the joke funny and growled at me across the room.

It felt like all we did anymore was fight.

Clay’s arm was almost fully healed. Only pink, fleshy lines were left behind on his bicep. It didn’t matter. He was determined to understand the mystery behind the strange Manor, so we weren’t going anywhere for a while. I leaned back against the couch, my mind wandering to the tiny sounds that Florence had made as my fingers slipped deep inside of her. My cock twitched painfully in my jeans.

I would have kept going, taken her in the water and shown her how alive she made me feel, but she was already so overwhelmed by touch that I was afraid to scare her. So I stayed frustratingly horny when she climbed from the pool and said her goodnites.

Her flushed cheeks and soft skin burned into my thoughts, playing repeatedly like a sweet film in my mind. All I could think about was getting back to her. I didn’t want to be having this conversation with Wes and Clay.

I wanted to be buried in Florence.

“Are you even listening?” Wes threw a book across the room and it smacked me on the shoulder.

“Ow!” I chucked it back.

“Will you two stop throwing books, please?” Clay scolded. “They are not a part of this stupid argument.” He collected the crumpled book from the floor and set it right before returning to the floor plans.

“I asked you not to get close to that thing while we figured out what was happening here, and what do you do?” Wes barked. “You tried to fuck it!”

“You know, maybe if you relaxed a little occasionally, you wouldn’t be so wound up all the time. And she has a name,” I snapped back. “Stop referring to her like she’s got six rows of teeth and eats the hearts of men. ”

Wes narrowed his eyes at me and gripped the back of the chair he was standing behind as he leaned over at me. “For all we know, it does.”

He emphasized the word to get under my skin but I settled back against the couch and thought about how soft Florence’s hair felt between my fingers, how warm she was clenched around my hand, and how full her lips felt against mine.

“Are you any closer to figuring it out?”

“She’s been avoiding me and I have questions for her. How did you manage to pin her down?” Clay looked up at me.

Wes let out an aggravated scoff at Clay's choice of wording and I fought to keep the grin off my face.

“I didn’t stop looking.” I shrugged. “I think she’s spooked. Almost like someone said something to her.”

My eyes landed on Wes and he squirmed like I was burning a hole through him.

“What did you say to her?” I sat up on the couch and asked him before he could change the subject, his mouth falling open and shut again.

“I haven’t been near that thing,” he snapped. “I’ve been busy finding us a new case.”

I scoffed.

Wes handed Clay a newspaper over his shoulder and he grabbed it without looking up from his drawings. He slipped his glasses on and read over the article.

“Sounds like a nest.” He finally looked up at Wes. “You can’t do this alone.”

“I never said anything about doing it alone.” Wes scowled. “Pack your things. ”

The laugh that fell from my lips was loud and curt.

“No.”

Clay sighed and pushed to his feet from where he sat on the floor, ready to get between us. The air in the sitting room was thick, a metaphorical powder keg just begging for a spark. Wes pushed buttons until he found one that would ignite a violent fight.

“You don’t get a say. You’re too close to this thing and need some fresh air to clear your head,” Wes argued.

“No, what you want is us killing vampires so we remember how it feels and how dangerous monsters are, but we never forgot, and Florence is not a monster,” I growled and stood up. It didn’t matter that Wes was taller or broader. If it came to it, I would fight. It meant that much. “I don’t need fresh air to figure that out. And you’re being an impulsive twat!”

“You think I’m impulsive?” Wes’s voice raised. “You fucked a ghost in a pool. You’re a child and that proves it as much!”

Clay cleared his throat and we both turned on him.

“What?” Echoed out in unison.

“Please listen before you throw any more books,” he said, putting his arms out at his side, “I think you both need the hunt.”

I laughed until Clay’s face remained stern.

“Oh, you’re serious?” I rolled my eyes. “So you’re taking his side?”

“Remember the listening part? That starts now .” Clay shoved me playfully, but it did nothing to relieve the tension that had built up in the room. “You’re both driving me nuts, Wes. You’re bored,” he said, and Wes scoffed. “When you can’t solve a problem with a bullet you get antsy, and it’s not helping. It’s making my job harder because you scared her into the Manor somewhere, and she won’t talk to me.”

I hummed with pride.

“And you.” Clay turned on me. “Are an idiot. You can’t go around testing theories by sticking your dumb Irish fingers in things. You have no idea what she is, and while I agree that she doesn’t seem dangerous, the chance is still there. You need to get out of this house, away from her, and level your head. You’re too close to this.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not, it’s actually quite logical,” Clay quipped. “And if I’m going to get any more information from her, I need you two to stop fighting.”

“Unlikely,” I bit.

“Then a hunt is exactly what you need to release this pent-up aggression you’re feeling.”

“There’s nothing pent up,” Wes groaned.

“Aye,” Clay sighed. “There is always something pent up in you .”

“Understatement.” I coughed but shifted on my toes, “Fine, I’ll go.”

Wes laughed like he had won the argument, but it was far from over if he thought I would just roll over and see his side. In my mind, it didn’t matter if Florence was dangerous. There was a risk to it, but it was one I was willing to take for her.

Clay stared at me for a long moment, like he could read my thoughts, and scowled, pulling his glasses off and shoving them in his pocket. “I’ll pack you some food. Try not to kill each other in my absence.”