Lust ‘n Dead [top] Info

“That’s why they stay,” he murmured, cupping her face with those cold, tattooed hands. “The hunger doesn’t care if the heart beats. It only cares if the blood burns.”

“It wasn’t a line.” He finally looked at her. His eyes were the color of a storm sea—gray-green and bottomless. “It was an epitaph.”

“What are you?” she whispered.

Inside, a woman sat perfectly still, her skin pale as moonlight, her eyes the color of a storm sea.

Afterward, she traced the anchor on his knuckle. “You feel like a ghost.” lust ‘n dead

She should have screamed. Should have clawed at the door handle, thrown herself into the night. But the heat hadn’t left her. It was still there, coiled low in her belly, confused and furious and desperate.

“You’re not from here,” she said, though her own accent said otherwise. “That’s why they stay,” he murmured, cupping her

Not slow. Not fast. Not at all.