The laundry room was a small, windowless space tucked away at the end of the hall. It smelled of lavender detergent and warm linen. The hum of the dryer provided a low, rhythmic backdrop to the sudden, heavy silence that fell as Silas shut the door behind them.
He didn't turn on the main light, leaving them in the dim glow of the hallway spill and the small light above the washer.
Elena turned to face him, her back against the vibrating dryer. She looked smug, her chest heaving, the red juice still glistening on her skin.
"Well?" she asked. "Are you going to help me clean up?"
Silas didn't answer. He stepped forward, closing the distance until his chest was inches from hers. He could feel the heat radiating off her.
"You think this is funny?" he asked, his voice a low growl.
"I think
