I Am Lightning (Laurel Defense Series) by Melanie Miro Page A

Robert didn’t sweat, nor did he need to breathe, even though he did it all the time while awake.  Having a mountain of quilts over him wouldn’t bother him.  I covered all of him, including his face.  Not once did he move.  He must have been exhausted.
    One final thing: I couldn’t leave my guest sleeping by himself in my living room.  He might wake up disoriented and take off the quilts.  I changed into some PJ’s and snuggled into a large side chair.  It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do.  Before I fell asleep I lifted the quilts.  Robert’s face looked peaceful, an expression I hadn’t yet seen on him.  His fangs were still out.  They looked long and sharp.  I covered him up feeling a little like a pervert.  The poor guy was helpless, and here I was ogling.
    I snuggled back into my chair and wondered, not for the first time, why Robert had been so hungry and tired.  The obvious reason was because he hadn’t eaten or rested enough, but why?  After everything Ifan must have done for him, the least Robert could do would be to make sure he remained healthy.  Ifan’s words rang inside my head.  He’d found Robert very ill.  I wondered if it was right after being turned into a vampire.  I fell asleep with a thousand questions running through my head.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 7
     
     
    I woke up to the sound of rain.  The soft whooshing was comforting in its own way, like a lullaby.  I rearranged myself on the large chair where I’d slept and checked on Robert.  He didn’t seem to have moved.  The clock announced it was nearly eleven in the morning, time to start my day.  But I didn’t wanna.  What was there to do anyway?  Laundry?  Clean something?  Vacuum?  Eh…
    Robert murmured something and moved from lying on his side to lie face up.  There was just enough of the quilts left over for that, but if he moved any more the quilts would bunch up on one side and expose him.  I jumped from my seat and fell on him.  “Don’t move!”
    “Abby?” he asked, his voice groggy.  He yawned under the quilts and seemed to snuggle under me.  “It must be daytime,” he mumbled.
    “Yes, I had to cover you.  Let me fix the quilts, okay?  Don’t move.”  I started tugging on the quilts slowly, trying not to lift them.  I wasn’t sure just how much light he could stand.  My living room was dark with the drawn curtains and the gloomy day outside, but it was by no means pitch black.
    “I fell asleep in your house,” he commented.  It was like his brain was getting back in gear slowly, picking up speed from neutral, like a car rolling downhill.
    “It’s okay,” I said, running my hand over where his shoulder should have been.  “I just want to make sure you’re covered.  I’m sorry I don’t have a light-tight room.  Are you hungry?”
    “Yes, hungry,” Robert grumbled.  I felt his hands try to reach for my waist under the quilts.  Seeing as I was practically draped over him, he found me easily and held me.  He took a deep breath, then another, then let out a loud expletive.
    I was startled.  I’d never heard him curse before.  “What happened?  Am I hurting you?”  I started to get up but he held me tighter even through the quilts.
    “I can’t make the fangs retract.  I’m hungry,” he explained.  That made more sense than what he’d said last night, about the fangs coming out when he was satisfied.
    “Okay, I’ll make you something to eat.”
    “For blood,” he qualified.
    I was silent for a little bit.  But I could help, I figured.  “If you don’t mind me driving your car I can go see Isabelle and bring you some… unless… do you have your suit in your car?” I asked.  This time he let me get up.
    “No, the suit is in my locker at the office, and I can’t wear the mask in public.  It’s all right, I promise not to move, but I do need blood,” he said.  I couldn’t see him but he sounded as if needing blood was a