As soon as Nikolae stands, Jesse stands too. Relief floods him, as at least one other person present seems to have been roused by his desperate need to get out. Either that, or the other male doesn’t like his courage to be questioned. There’s an internal whoop as Nikolae agrees to help dig the entrance out; Jesse’s quite certain that if they weren’t trapped, he’d have left already, storm be damned.
The human sits on a couch in the distance, muttering to herself, and Jesse pays her no attention. At least she has the wits to keep herself out of the way. The gaze Jesse throws in her direction is unintentionally predatory. Whoever and whatever gets in the way of him returning to Grey, and to Fforde and Larch Court, will regret it.
The other female emerges from the bathrooms and takes a seat near the bar; maybe she’s finding comfort in the flames, though they’ve started to die down by now with nothing else to burn. There’s a twisting urge in Jesse’s gut, almost as if he wants to go feed that fire because he can’t bear to see it diminish. But there are more important things to be concerned about right now. The two women seem to be holding themselves apart from the water, as if they’re afraid to get wet.
But aren’t women always like that? God forbid that their hair goes frizzy.
Jesse himself is not at all concerned by the water, freezing or not. He is, by nature, a different creature now. Cold-blooded. The way vampires die and turn to ash, the way they come back to life in the same body they had left behind—except for the Mystics—has Jesse believing that a vampire’s body isn’t quite flesh and blood, anyway. Not like that of an ordinary human. Whatever the case, Jesse doesn’t fear the cold. Instinct tells him that it isn’t something to be concerned about.
As much as the water is a hard slap to his senses, it doesn’t take long to get used to.
Without waiting for instruction or plan, Jesse begins to help Nikolae with the entrance—like a game of pick-up sticks, trying to remove the rubble that’s least likely to cause another cave in, or the both of them to be crushed. Jesse, too, has half his attention on the human. Though the other half is steadfastly upon his male comrade. The rubble he removes soon joins the pile on the floor just inside the entrance.
”A dragon?” he asks, then laughs. It’s a snort-laugh. His eyes gleam, teeth pearly and bright. ”You… what, turn into a dragon? Oh! Or is it your Chinese birth year? I didn’t know astrology would help us out, here…” he says, clearly teasing in the way that is often misconstrued.
The human sits on a couch in the distance, muttering to herself, and Jesse pays her no attention. At least she has the wits to keep herself out of the way. The gaze Jesse throws in her direction is unintentionally predatory. Whoever and whatever gets in the way of him returning to Grey, and to Fforde and Larch Court, will regret it.
The other female emerges from the bathrooms and takes a seat near the bar; maybe she’s finding comfort in the flames, though they’ve started to die down by now with nothing else to burn. There’s a twisting urge in Jesse’s gut, almost as if he wants to go feed that fire because he can’t bear to see it diminish. But there are more important things to be concerned about right now. The two women seem to be holding themselves apart from the water, as if they’re afraid to get wet.
But aren’t women always like that? God forbid that their hair goes frizzy.
Jesse himself is not at all concerned by the water, freezing or not. He is, by nature, a different creature now. Cold-blooded. The way vampires die and turn to ash, the way they come back to life in the same body they had left behind—except for the Mystics—has Jesse believing that a vampire’s body isn’t quite flesh and blood, anyway. Not like that of an ordinary human. Whatever the case, Jesse doesn’t fear the cold. Instinct tells him that it isn’t something to be concerned about.
As much as the water is a hard slap to his senses, it doesn’t take long to get used to.
Without waiting for instruction or plan, Jesse begins to help Nikolae with the entrance—like a game of pick-up sticks, trying to remove the rubble that’s least likely to cause another cave in, or the both of them to be crushed. Jesse, too, has half his attention on the human. Though the other half is steadfastly upon his male comrade. The rubble he removes soon joins the pile on the floor just inside the entrance.
”A dragon?” he asks, then laughs. It’s a snort-laugh. His eyes gleam, teeth pearly and bright. ”You… what, turn into a dragon? Oh! Or is it your Chinese birth year? I didn’t know astrology would help us out, here…” he says, clearly teasing in the way that is often misconstrued.
