The Vampire of Tinkerfall (Elysium #3)

Chapter Thirty-Six

When Trinket woke, Booker was still asleep on the bed beside her. The tears on his cheeks had finally dried, and his breathing was slow and even. It was good to see him resting. He probably hadn't slept a wink all night. This short respite from his self-condemnation had taken hours of coaxing on her part, and he only truly relaxed when she gave in and lied down with him. Apparently those hours had taken their toll, as she didn't even remember closing her eyes.

The light that had been shining through the windows when she'd first entered the room was gone now. So was the blood. That was a relief. The bleeding walls were more than she could bear, what with the image of Gin's dead body still ingrained in her head. The memory of the urchin's final breath played over and over and over in her mind.

Gone.

She was gone.

Forever.

There was no bringing her back.

The tears started to form in her eyes once again, and she could feel herself unraveling.

No. No, she had to keep it together.

For Booker.

Taking a deep breath, she fixed her attention on him.

His face was still pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. She ran a hand over his tangled hair, and her touch seemed to reach him even in sleep. Tightening his grip on her waist, he pulled her closer. Her heartbeat quickened momentarily, but then she gazed down at him sadly. Would he ever be the same again? Losing Gin had broken his heart. He was a shattered man, and she wasn't certain she could put him back together.

She gently trailed her fingers along his temple. Still, she knew better than anyone that it was possible to go on as a damaged human being.

No one is as damaged as you.

You could never fix him.

You'll only hurt him.

She bit back a curse. Not wanting the voices to rile her up and disturb Booker, she slowly untangled herself from his arms in an attempt to let him rest in peace. But as soon as she rose from the bed, she heard a sharp intake of breath behind her.

"Don't go."

Booker grabbed her wrist, his grip desperate. She turned to find that same desperation in his haunted eyes. She offered him a sad smile and sat down again. "You need to rest," she said as she brushed back his hair.

He closed his eyes at her touch. "There is no rest without you by my side."

The sorrowful, tender way in which he spoke the words pulled at her heartstrings, and she gave up any pretense of arguing and laid back down beside him. Relief washed over his face, and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close so that they were practically nose to nose.

"I'm guessing this is all rather improper," he said, a shadow of a smile on his lips.

"Most of what we do would be considered rather improper. I don't see how this could do much more harm to our reputations."

He laughed softly. "Have I corrupted you so thoroughly?" he said, tracing her jawline with his fingers.

His touch sent shivers of delight through her body, but the pleasure she experienced was quickly overshadowed by guilt. Gin was dead. This was no time to be romancing her employer. "I should really get to work," she said.

"I seriously couldn't care less about the state of my house."

"Booker—"

He cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes. Her stomach fluttered, and her head spun in a dizzy fog. What was it about eye contact with him that made her feel so inebriated? "Distract me, Trinket. Please. I can't bear to think about the reality that awaits me outside that door."