Chapter Eight
With a tight grip on her athame, Jaci sat in the chair beside Gabriel and reached for his hand.
Big mistake.
He jerked away so fast he knocked his mug from the table, sending it to the polished floor in an epic crash that would’ve pissed her off had the mug or the floor actually been hers.
Jaci sighed.
The vampire glowered.
“Newsflash, Prince,” she said. “If you want me to figure out what kind of curse is messing with your blood, I’ll need to use—you know—your actual blood.”
“So you can devise some new way to curse me?” He laughed as if she were the crazy one, ignoring the shattered mug and river of tea at his feet. “Hard pass.”
Jaci shrugged, trading her athame for the bird book she’d found the other night. “Let me know when you’ve come up with a better idea. Since y
