Authors: Mary Hughes
Yes
. And as Twyla nodded off, I pointed toward her bedroom.
Ric slipped hands under her knees and shoulders, lifted her effortlessly, carried her into her darkened bedroom and laid her gently on the bed.
“Mmm?” She stirred.
“Shh,” he said. “It’s all right. Synnove’s here. Rest now.”
She snuggled into the bed with a sigh. I slipped off her shoes and covered her with a spare blanket.
When she was settled, Ric motioned me out of the room. He followed, flicking off the light and shutting the door behind him.
What he’d done for her was lovely and sweet, and coming on top of the horrors, made me long for some comfort of my own. Yes, I’d declared Ric wasn’t my guy but that seemed hollow and cold when right now all I craved was his solid warmth.
So when he opened his arms to me, I went into them gladly, leaning into him with a sigh. “So what actually happened?”
“Something that would have had her out for blood. Let’s talk in your room.”
I took his big hand and led him to my bedroom, shutting the door after us. I sat on the bed and glanced at the spot next to me, hoping for hot, sweaty things I shouldn’t have, but what the hell.
Ric leaned against the wall, a sort of self-deprecating quirk to his lips. “I would, but I need to use my mouth for talking right now. This is important.”
Ooh, his mouth, and what he could do with his very clever tongue… With a sigh, I settled back on my elbows. “What did you find?”
“A set of tracks, made by waffle stompers, in the bushes where we’d heard the eavesdropper.”
“Waffle stompers?”
“Big boot print.” He held his hands about a foot apart. “Grid tread pattern. Deep, meaning a heavy guy. Waffle stompers.”
“How colorful you ad men are.”
“Wait until you hear what else I found. Waffle Stomper was our eavesdropper, but his weren’t the only tracks. Two more sets, a ferret and a clown, led
toward
the clearing.”
“A real ferret?”
“No.” He grinned. “Pointy-toed boots, you know, the kind made of lizard skin and ego?”
“Right. And the clown?”
“Fucking dinner plates. Clomp-clomp clown shoes.”
“I will never get those images out of my head. That goes beyond colorful. I can see why you do well in advertising.”
His grin broadened. “The woman understands me.”
I grinned back.
Somehow we were smiling into each other’s eyes. Everything melted away but a feeling of profound connection.
Our smiles died. I looked away first.
I cleared my throat. “You’re rather good at the tracking stuff for a civilized ad man, aren’t you?”
“I’ve had diverse training,” he said neutrally.
“And the wall goes up. Okay, another secret. So what did you find that you thought Twyla would be out for blood?”
“The scuffling obscured most of it, but I found signs that all three tromped
into
that clearing. And Ferret’s and Clown’s tracks were deeper than they should have been. As if they were weighed down by something heavy.”
“Heavy? Like what?” I swallowed hard. “Were they carrying the vampire?”
“No. His scent and spoor tell me he was watching on one side of the clearing. I think he capitalized on Elena’s situation but didn’t cause it.”
“So what were they carrying?”
“I’ll get to that. The three, Waffle Stomper, Ferret and Clown tracked into the clearing. Elena’s hiking shoes followed their tracks, and had been for some time.”
“How can you tell she was following?”
“Her tracks overlay theirs. She marched into the clearing and there was a confrontation and scuffle.”
I sat up straight. “They attacked Elena? Why?”
“I’ll get to that too. The men’s tracks run off, Ferret and Clown deeper again, while Waffle Stomper went into hiding behind those bushes. And here’s the significant thing—after we heard him and he ran away, his tracks came back. When I questioned him I found out he saw Elena’s miraculous healing.”
“That’s not good.”
“It’s okay. As I said in the living room, I wiped his mind. But I’m getting ahead of myself. After he left again his tracks joined up with Ferret and Clown, who were significantly unburdened this time.”
“So spill! What was the burden?”
“A dead body. Human. I didn’t even have to dig it up.” His nose wrinkled. “I thought about getting Bo, but the day I can’t handle a few humans…well. I followed the trio of tracks back to their lair. Guess where they led?”
“I’m afraid to. It didn’t take you long, so it must be nearby. The other occupied cabin?”
“You’re so smart.” He grinned with pride. “Exactly right. I questioned them, and they told me everything.” He polished nails on his chest. “I have a certain facility at suggestion.”
“So who are they? Why were they carting a dead body around?”
“They’re enforcers for a Minneapolis gang. Apparently they do this sort of thing fairly often—cross the state line, take a cabin, then wait until night to bury the bodies. Backwoods and secluded lakes make great dumping grounds.”
“And Elena…?”
“Elena tried to arrest them.”
I winced. “She would. That’s why they attacked her so brutally.”
“Yes. They were trying to kill her.”
“Frankly, they would have, if Nikos hadn’t pulled off a miracle.”
He shook his head. “That thing Nikos did, healing Elena—it really took a toll on him. It’s a mark of the depth of his love that he would even consider doing what he did.”
“Is he really smaller? Older? I thought Twyla and I were seeing things.”
“Yes.” He closed his eyes and grimaced, and I thought he was disgusted at the horrors Nikos had endured for the sake of a mere human until he said, “Strongwell too. The way he acts around Elena…I’m beginning to understand some of the things I feel for you.”
“Feelings? For me?” My body heated, my lips throbbed, and I started to hope for things I shouldn’t have. “Good feelings?”
“
Strong
feelings.” He opened his eyes directly on mine and they were a hot, piercing violet. “I want you in the worst way.”
I shivered. “Oh. Well, my feelings are strong too.” My nipples hardened and something farther south put out a welcome mat and started fanning herself coyly. I shushed her. “The problem is, we’re so different.” And wasn’t that an understatement? “But…”
“But?” His gaze never wavered, now so hot I was about to burst into flames.
“For a little simple sex, I might not care. Since you were so brilliant tracking, then questioning the bad guys. We could try it, find out.” I patted the bed again. Both my lips and my sex smiled hopefully.
“Oh God. I want to. But…”
I suddenly wanted to set fire to that word.
“I donated to Nikos and now I’m…thirsty.” Sticking his hands deep in his pockets, he pushed away from the wall to pace the narrow room.
“Thirsty?”
He stopped. Looked at me. His eyes flared a hungry red. “Really thirsty.”
Maybe I should have been scared at the eyes and the glint of fang. But I trusted him. No matter how thirsty he was, if I said no, I trusted him not to bite me. If I said yes and he bit me, I trusted him not to take too much. Weird.
“I
should
go.” His tongue touched the tip of a slightly elongated fang. “But…”
Okay, I wasn’t setting fire to that word.
“But with the big guy in the ground and Bo fixated on his wife, that would leave you unprotected.”
“Okay. Good.” I twiddled my thumbs, so I wouldn’t grab him by the ears and kiss him. “How much blood did Nikos lose? It seemed like he was pouring out everything he had, but I know better. The heart stops pumping long before the last pint.”
“True, except for us. We can expel nearly all our blood, even without a beating heart.”
I blinked. “Wow. That’s…incomprehensible. How low are you now? A quart, two? More?”
“I don’t know.” He jerked one shoulder, an irritated shrug. “I only know that I’m thirsty.” He stared at the door, jaw working. “I should head out. Visit my donor humans before sunrise.”
Neither of us wanted that. I had a brainstorm. “How about you satisfy my doctorly curiosity, and I’ll donate to you in return?”
He turned fiery eyes on me. “Synnove. I’m not going to stop at a standard donation. Not with you.”
“You mean you’ll take more than a pint?”
“I mean I’ll throw you on that bed and pound into you until you’re screaming for mercy.”
“Oh. Well.” I paused to fan myself. “Bonus.” I grinned.
His eyes narrowed, red lances. “I thought you distrusted advertising men. You and I, we’re not compatible, according to you.”
“According to you too, Mr. Marry-Someone-Else. But that doesn’t stop me from being curious.” Not the total truth. I owed him better. I met his eyes. “You don’t lie because it’s good for business. You’re secretive because you have to be. Twyla’s always talking about happily for now, and she’s got a point. I’d like to be happy. How about you?”
He continued to stare with those bright red eyes. Apparently he needed convincing. I stood, snared the hem of my tank top and pulled up, revealing Twyla’s ivory silk bra crammed with my bouncy DDs.
His eyes ignited. He swallowed heavily. “How can I satisfy your curiosity?”
I tossed the top and unsnapped my shorts, flashing a peek of crimson bow. “You’ll need to get my blood pressure cuff.” Most doctors didn’t carry a medical bag these days, but I packed a few things for emergencies—mouth-to-mouth masks, bandages, foam disinfectant and the like. My stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff were also inside.
“Cuff, okay.” His gaze riveted to that wisp of silk. “Where?”
I unzipped the shorts and peeled them midway down my hips. Enough that, when I did a flirty twist, it showed that I was wearing, not panties, but a thong.
He made a strangled sound. When I peeked back his eyes were soldered to my ass.
“
Where
?”
I smiled. “I left it in the living—”
He poofed. Literally, mist shooting under the door.
I stripped off the shorts and stood in only ivory underwear.
So when the bedroom door opened and he walked in carrying my kit bag, he stopped like he’d been felled. The bag dropped from his twitching hand.
Well. I’d never
wanted
to be beautiful. But with Ric, I was loving it.
“I’ll get that.” I sauntered over to him,
reeeal
close, and bent to pick up the bag. I did it from the waist, not the knees, kicking my butt in the air.
Yes. I was abandoning my need to be taken seriously, throwing away my desire to be wanted for my mind rather than my body—at least for a while. What had being serious gotten me anyway but bitterness and disappointment?
Besides, his throttled groans made it so much fun. Go Beast.
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” With a wiggle I picked up the bag and sauntered back to the bed. “Do vampires feel pain?”
“Oh yes.” His groans emerged. I peeked. His eyes, soldered to my butt again, were a bright shade of red that made me wriggle. “More than humans. Pleasure too. Everything…more.”
“Good to know. Why don’t you close the door?” I set the bag on my bed, opened it and found my blood pressure cuff. “Then take off your jacket.” I cleared off the bag, sat on the bed, and as he shut the door, patted the space next to me. He nearly ripped the jacket, getting it off. When he lurched over, his gait was gratifyingly stiff.
“What…” His voice was raspy. He stood over me, hands clenching and unclenching. Long claws curled into his palms. Verrrry long. Looked like Twyla was right. He said, “What are you doing?”
“You’ve lost blood. Either your blood pressure will be low, or your system will compensate and it’ll be normal. Either will tell me something about vampires that no one has ever known before. Sit.” I patted the bed again. “I want to see if you’re your basic 120/80.”
“Synnove. Your scent…” The tips of his fangs glinted as he spoke. “I can’t. I want you too much.”
“Which is why we’re doing my part of the agreement first. Come on, you have to sit for me to do this.”
He swallowed hard. His eyes were actually glowing. “All right, then. Talk to me. Take my mind off…” He waved at his lower body.
“Okay.” I held up the cuff and made my voice cool and professional. “This measures blood pressure. It works by cutting off the blood flow in your arm.”
Gingerly he sat. Closed his eyes. Sucked in a deep breath. Choked. “Your scent. Pure sunshine.”
“Sunshine has a scent?” I was absurdly pleased, more than if he’d eloquently recited a dozen sonnets. I fastened the cuff around his arm. “I pump air into the cuff until it cuts off the blood flow. I release the air pressure gradually. At some point your pressure equals the cuff pressure, and the blood starts flowing again. I can hear when that happens through the stethoscope.” I stopped talking to listen. His pulse beat like a bass drum underwater. “There. It started. The number on the gauge is the pressure reading.”