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WARNING: Here there be fairly explicit sexual content. If you are a minor, have some condition necessitating avoidance of undue excitement, or possess an easily triggered gag reflex, read beyond the fold at your own risk.
Amanda returned her gaze to the road after a quick flick toward Nate. This was the third time since the diner he’d ground the heel of his hand against his left eye. Regeneration of healthy tissue would cause itching. So would a festering pocket of infection. Regardless of the prognosis, if he didn’t get relief from the discomfort, he’d cause further damage poking at the wound. He needed a doctor who specialized in vampires, sooner rather than later.
She could deliver him to his hometown hospital and the best care the Hilliard name and fortune could buy in two hours. Too bad dawn would catch up with them in about forty-five minutes, if the clock on the dashboard was correct. No amount of influence could procure a remedy for vampire sun exposure. “Can you fit in one of those coolers?”
“If you had a chainsaw, I might fit in both. Find a hotel.”
“Most hotels require credit cards as sort of a security deposit, especially when the potential guests look as disreputable as we do.”
“Most hotel employees require numerous pieces of paper money as sort of a bribe, especially when the potential guests look as desperate as we do.” He produced a wad of such currency before she could point out their lack of same. Good old Hank thought of everything. “You’re not too chicken to spend one more day with me, are you?”
Her palms grew slippery on the steering wheel at the thought of being alone with him until sunset in any space smaller than a football arena. Five little words—I like having you around—and she came dangerously close to melting right into his hands. He liked having lots of things around, like thick drapes and clean socks. She’d have to be an idiot to believe she meant any more to him than that.
See the rest of “Beyond the Darkening: Chapter 6″