“Okay,” she says. Two minutes later, not only has she stolen my duvet, but she also appropriated my pillow. Pest. “Why don’t you sleep in a bed?”
“ ’Cause I’m a Vampyre.” She accepts the explanation. Probably because she accepts me. Like Serena used to, and no one else ever. I turn the page, and we’re silent for three more minutes, her breath hot and humid against my cheek.
“Usually Lowe stays human and hangs out with me when they’re all gone,” she says eventually. Her voice is small, and I know why. Alex returned yesterday, but Lowe is still out of town. That’s why Ana sounds like something she rarely is: sad.
I put down the book and turn to her. “Are you saying I’m not as good company as Lowe?”
“You’re not.” I glare, but soften when she asks, “When will I be able to shift, too?”
Shi
