“There is something incredibly arousing about being wanted. I pulled my hand back and sucked in a deep breath. “Adam,” I said.”

“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Adam asked as we went back upstairs.“Sometime,” I told him. “When we're telling ghost stories around a campfire, and I want to scare you.”

“Hey, Adam,” I said.I thought you’d want to know that Warren and Darryl made it out of the vampire den alive.”I sucked in my breath. “You didn’t actually agree to their meeting on Marsilia’s grounds?”He laughed. “No, it just sounded better than saying they made it out of Denny’s alive. It might not be romantic, but it’s open all night and set in the middle of a brightly lit parking lot with no dark places for skulking parties to ambush from.”

“I woke in the morning to the sound of Adam's stomach growling under my ear."Sorry," he said. "Too many changes and not enough food."I patted his hard belly and kissed it. "Poor thing," I told it. "Doesn't Adam treat you right? No worries, I'll go feed you."My head bounced when Adam laughed.”

“When we got to the moron who was sitting in the only path to the stairway, Adam caught my waist and lifted me over before stepping over the man himself.“Scott?” Adam said as we headed upstairs. “Yeah?”“Unless someone shoots you, skins you, and throws the results on the floor, I don’t want to see you lying in the walkway again.”“Yessir!”

“Adam has always had . . . heroic tendencies.”I touched Adam’s arm. “He’s my hero.”There was another pause. . .“That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Bran said. “Be careful, Adam, or you’ll turn her into a real girl.”Adam looked at me. “I like her just the way she is, Bran.” And he meant it, greasy overalls, broken fingernails, and all.”

“Heart turned to me, his face thought­ful. “Yes­ter­day morn­ing. Yes, that means that Daphne hadn’t been home for two days be­fore that.” He smiled at me. “You were sup­posed to be the Al­pha’s eye can­dy.”Adam laughed.“What?” I asked him. “You don’t think I’d be good eye can­dy?” I looked down at my over­alls and grease-​stained hands. I’d torn an­oth­er nail to the quick.“Hon­ey is eye can­dy,” said Ben apolo­get­ical­ly. “You’re . . . just you.”“Mine,” said Adam, edg­ing be­tween Heart and me. “Mine is what she is.”