I Bite She Sucks by Bloom, Penelope (best novels for teenagers .txt) 📕

17

Sylvie

Maisey was getting worse and I was getting better. It felt like a cruel twist of fate.

I was also battling the guilt for how much I was excited to be in the middle of something different, even if it was scary and dangerous. I believed Riggs would find a way to help Maisey, because it was impossible not to believe the man would do the things he said. There was so much intensity and clarity of purpose in his eyes and the way he carried himself.

Riggs was like a force of nature, at least if nature had a tendency for abrasiveness and as much tact as a baboon.

He was downstairs at the moment and I had some time alone with a book Fang had brought me a few hours ago. Fang was in the corner of my room watching something on his phone with an idle smile on his face.

I still didn’t understand much about him, but he looked even younger than I was.

I set the book down, then looked his way. “Did Riggs tell you to bring me this?”

Fang looked up, then made a lip zipping gesture and winked.

“How do you two know each other, anyway?”

“Riggs was the alpha of my pack. The Silverbacks.” He grinned, pointing to the silver streaks in his hair. “When Riggs is in his full wolf form, there’s a streak of silver fur down his back,” he explained, as if that made it clear why he’d dyed his hair. “But I don’t care if he stepped down. An Alpha is an Alpha, and I’ll follow mine to the death if I have to.”

“Why did he step down, exactly?”

Fang pursed his lips and looked down. “That’s something for him to tell you if he chooses to.”

“Yeah, but he won’t answer any of my questions if they’re personal. I’m trying to figure out if I can trust him, but he-”

The door swung open and Riggs came in with two steaming soups and a big grin. “Clam chowder,” he said. He set them down and took one between his hands, slurping noisily as Fang tried to look like he hadn’t been talking to me.

“You can go,” Riggs said after a few sips, nodding to Fang.

Fang got up and gave me a quick nod of his head, then left.

“You told him to bring me this, didn’t you?” I asked, holding up the book.

“You’ll get better faster if you’re less miserable. I need you ready to move before our time here is up.”

“I see,” I said. “Before, you said you are helping us just because it will piss the vampires off, right? But why now?”

Riggs set his soup down, then met my eyes with that unnerving intensity of his. “It’s because of you.”

“Me?”

“You threw that dumbass letter out the window. I couldn’t believe someone so reckless was still breathing. All I wanted was to explain what an idiot you were, then you hit me with that bat.” He seemed to actually be smiling at the memory, even if only a little. “No woman has ever hit me like that, you know.”

I scrunched up my nose, tilting my head. “You decided to come out of retirement to protect me because I hit you with a baseball bat?”

“Twice, actually,” he noted. “And no, not exactly. But kind of.”

I sat back against my pillow; the warm soup clutched between my hands. Men made no sense. Absolutely no sense.

“Eat your soup,” he said, all the gruffness returning to his voice. “It’s going to get cold.”

“And what’s with your food obsession?” I asked. “It’s practically the only thing that seems to lighten your mood.”

“I’ve got to eat it every day to stay alive, might as well enjoy it.”

I shook my head. He wasn’t telling me the whole story. What else was new?

18

Riggs

The remainder of our week of sanctuary felt like it was racing by. I spent most of my time watching over Sylvie, who mostly only got out of bed to use the bathroom or shower in the mornings. She rotated through the clothes I’d had Felix pick up from her apartment and rarely picked out anything but large t-shirts and athletic shorts.

She was in a perpetual state of cozy lounge mode, and I found the look oddly appealing. There wasn’t the usual over-eagerness to impress that I encountered with some women. She didn’t worry about fiddling in the mirror for hours to get her makeup and hair perfect.

She’d hop out of bed in socks and a ratty t-shirt, whack a werewolf in the head with a baseball bat, then curl up with a book while she ate some processed food out of a crinkly bag before dinner.

And somehow, I needed to find a way to stop one of the most powerful, dangerous arms of The Coven from capturing or killing her and her sister.

Lately, my wolf rarely stirred. Even when I was the acting Alpha of the Silverbacks, my wolf had always been largely dormant. Ever since I’d met Sylvie, I could constantly feel him stirring, like a second pair of eyes watching from within my skull.

Relax, asshole, I thought, directing the words to my wolf. Don’t get any ideas.

The only response was a vague impression of deep, echoing growls.

Sylvie let out a happy sigh, setting her paperback down on her chest and smiling contentedly.

“Haven’t you already read all those books Fang is bringing from your apartment?”

“Yes,” she said. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t still enjoy my favorite moments.”

“What was the one that just made you smile like that?” I asked. Even as I heard the words leave my mouth, I could hardly believe they came from me. I didn’t make small talk. I didn’t care about other people or their interests, especially not in the last few years.

But when Sylvie’s eyes lit up at my question, I realized exactly why I’d asked. Dammit.

She sat cross-legged on the bed, facing me and forcing her shorts up until I could see a