Blood Moon by Alyxandra Harvey

it off my cheek. I could smell the warmth of his skin, the blood just under his wrist. “It’ll be okay.”
    “You don’t know that.” I turned my head away.
    He didn’t say anything. He knew I was right.
    “We’re going on lockdown soon at the camp,” I added. “No Internet, no cell phone reception, no humans past the guards.” Well, no humans who weren’t bloodslaves, anyway. I didn’t need to explain that; he already knew. I could tell by the clenching of his jaw. “So I probably won’t see you for a while.”
    He stepped up close to me, tipping my chin up with his hand. He lowered his head until his mouth brushed mine, softly, tenderly. I tasted his lips, trying to memorize his smell of mint and cedar. I kissed him until we forgot where we were, forgot that he was injured, that I was sorry, that anyone could walk by and see us there. He kissed me back until my veins burned under myskin. I wanted more. He wanted more. His lips brushed my ear and all I could hear was his breath, like the ocean. It made me dizzy, hungry, wild. I would have swallowed him whole if I could have.
    When my arms slid around his waist, my fingers brushed the unmistakable shape of a wooden stake tucked into his belt at his lower back.
    You can’t protect him. And you can’t trust him.
    I stilled, pulling away just enough to speak, but not enough that my lips didn’t touch his even as I formed the words. “Is that a stake?” I asked. “Were you going to stake me?”
    He tilted my head farther back so my fangs were visible. “Were you going to go for my jugular?”
    We stared at each other for a long, hot moment that burned through me.
    “Are you still going to college in Scotland?” I finally asked.
    “Yes,” he said quietly.
    “When?”
    “Not until after New Year’s. I can’t leave my mom alone for Christmas; she’s always worse then.”
    “Maybe it’s for the best.” I couldn’t believe I was saying that, even as I was still recovering from his kisses.
    “Maybe it is.” And I really couldn’t believe he was agreeing with me.
    “It could be pheromones, or just everything that’s happened,” I said, desperately trying not to feel the pain I was feeling. Why couldn’t we just lose ourselves in the fire again? When passion wasenough, and the questions didn’t matter. “We don’t really know each other that well, technically.”
    But I was lying to myself. My chest felt hollow, and I was aware of my heart in a way I hadn’t been since it had stopped beating. I hurt everywhere. We’d been each other’s bridge. We’d survived treachery, vendettas, and bounties.
    But we couldn’t seem to survive each other.
    I didn’t want to say good-bye but I didn’t know how else to protect him. I was no good for him. The next time I lost control, I might actually kill him.
    “Good-bye, Kieran.”
    His voice was husky, as if he were just waking up. “Good-bye, Solange.”
    I choked back a sob. I wouldn’t cry. I turned on my heel and stumbled down the porch steps. The night was full of town noises: cars, dogs, radios. The wind scattered dried leaves across the empty road.
    “Solange?”
    I stopped but didn’t turn around. I knew we had to let each other go. But I also knew if I saw those patient dark eyes, the sun tattoo on his bicep, the regulation cargo pants, I’d throw myself at him. I only had the strength to leave if I didn’t look at him.
    “You know the safe house we hid in when Hope’s unit had you?”
    I nodded.
    “There was an old tree there with exposed roots. Do you remember it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Those roots make great little hiding spots. If you ever need to send me a message,” he said, “if you need me, I’ll be there. You know that, right?”
    I nodded again, my throat aching.
    “I love you, Solange.”
    “You don’t even know me anymore,” I said, because I barely knew myself. “I’m a vampire.”
    “You were human when I met you,” he reminded me. “And you were brave and