by Lee French
“Sounds like a pretty good day. When did the nightmares and flashbacks start?”
Matthew scowled as the new question chased away pleasant memories. He needed to talk about it, though. “When I woke up in a hospital bed. Took some shrapnel. Nothing major or vital hit, just lost a lot of blood and had to heal up. I could’ve gone back into the sandbox if that stuff hadn’t started up. I even tried to talk them into letting me go back until the time I woke up screaming.
“They shipped me home and the soft bed made it worse. But every time I woke up, she was there. She did whatever it took. My personal nurse. They’d faded away for the most part. I had maybe one a week, and I wasn’t having trouble getting back to sleep. Had a steady job, even. I kept up with my share of the bills. I even laughed. We saw movies without me freaking. On the fourth of July, I didn’t panic.”
“She was holding you together.”
“No.” Matthew groped for the right word. Since those assholes took her from him, he felt adrift, lost. He had no home base anymore. “She was my anchor.”
“When you found out what happened to her, all the horrors she was holding back shook loose and you lost it.”
“Yeah. I was kind of there when I killed those guys that did it to her, but not really. All I could see was enemies that needed to be terminated, and I didn’t have my rifle. I mean, I knew they were the guys who did it to her, but…” He hesitated, not sure how to explain.
“When I get hungry, it’s like there’s another person in my head, one that has a very different opinion of right and wrong. He looks at women and sees talking cows. Except it’s worse than that, because you don’t have sex with cows. He has some pretty screwed up ideas about sex, too. I think he might even like—” Stephen stopped himself with a cough. “What I’m saying is, it’s someone inside me, a part of me that I have to conquer and force into submission. Those thoughts are my thoughts. The difference is, I know that part of me is wrong. Which is why I look at it as a separate guy who needs a leash around his neck.”
Matthew could roll with thinking of the wolf as something to conquer and force into submission. Looking at it that way made the task seem possible. He was a goddamned fucking Marine, and Marines don’t quit. No except, no until, no nothing, just no quitting. “Yeah. That makes sense. Thanks. And I guess I never thanked you for— For the other stuff.”
“It’s cool. Some of the others think we might be siblings. That’s the kind of thing brothers do for each other.”
Another Night on the Town
Stephen
Summer sucked. Stephen stood in the shade of the farmhouse, wishing the damned sun would set already. He got up an hour ago, having slept most of the daylight hours away in the basement of the farmhouse. Two weeks ago, he showed up here and Hannah pressed him into work, knocking down walls and moving heavy things. So long as he could avoid deadly sunshine while doing it, he found the work helpful in keeping his mind busy.
He missed his girlfriend. The first time he woke up as a vampire, he almost killed Marie with his Hunger. When he dropped her off at the hospital, her body too light and cold, he walked away forever, certain he’d never be able to look her in the eye again. She’d always been good at handling him, though. Certainly, he missed the regular sex. Much more, he missed the smell of her favorite perfume mingling with her musk at the nape of her neck.
Lizzie sashayed past him, Dan following with a guiding—and possessive—hand on her hip. She saw Stephen and smirked. Her hands ran through her thick, red hair and lifted it so he got an eyeful of her neck. Only his respect for Dan’s claim on her…heart kept him from darting to her side and sinking his fangs into her smooth flesh. His Hunger flared, making it an effort.
Tugging on his hoodie distracted him. He turned to find Hannah had snuck up behind him. She stood in the shade with him, her blue shirt and blonde ponytail leaving her tanned neck exposed. With nothing in plain sight to stop him, he clenched his hands into fists to prevent himself from closing the distance and feasting on her blood.
Chirping sounds distracted him enough to tear his eyes away from his favorite part of a woman. The noise had been Hannah saying something, and her expression prompted him to answer.
“What?”
Her smile faltered. “I asked how you’re feeling.”
He closed his eyes and wished she’d sent Jayce or Matthew to ask instead. Even better, she could have less interest in his feelings. “I’m hungry.” The words came out with more of a growl than he intended.
“It’s really great that you can control it like this. I knew you could do it. It’s three days now, right?”
“Four.” Four torturously long days ago, after a disastrous visit to Denver, the committee of everyone else here asked him not to leave to feed. He’d agreed without realizing none of the women would let him drink their blood. Clenching his jaws together, he sucked in a deep breath through his nose. It carried her scent, making him regret doing it. “If I don’t feed soon, I’m going to attack someone.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
His eyes snapped open and he gave her a flat stare. “I’m not threatening anyone. I’m stating a fact. I’m going out tonight.”
She sighed and let her head lean to one side in disappointment. “If you could just try for one more day…”
Her voice faded under the thump of her heartbeat. He stepped closer to her, unable to see anything but the angle of her shoulder and the blood pulsing under her skin. The hot ambrosia would spurt into his mouth. She’d gasp and sag in his arms. He’d drink and drink and drink.
His face bounced off something blue. Blinking, he saw her force field shimmering between them and rubbed his nose. “Sorry.”
“Have you…considered trying the goats? Tiana says she won’t object so long as you don’t kill them.”
Curling his lip in distaste, he shook his head. “I need human blood. Asking me to drink from animals is like asking you to eat raw sewage.”
She pursed her lips and threw a handful of money on the ground between them. “If you have to go, be careful.” Her force field stayed active until she escaped around the corner of the farmhouse.
He scooped up the bills and counted them, finding sixty dollars. At least she hadn’t asked him to pick up groceries.
~*~
The well-lit block he picked had women in flattering little dresses and men pretending not to stare at them. They roved in clumps and pairs. He walked up the street, hoping he fit in well enough to be ignored. Pulsing beats from five different nightclubs thumped in opposition to each other, brief snatches of music pouring out every time someone opened a door. A cheer rang out from the sports bar nestled between them, announcing the home team had scored.
Part of him wished for a dark trenchcoat to flutter around him as he swaggered down the street. Add black boots and tight pants and he would attract bouncy coeds looking for a one-night stand with the bad boy strutting through the clubs. Sixty bucks wouldn’t cover that kind of makeover. Especially not in this neighborhood. A hoodie and jeans would have to do.
Amid the hot spots, a trendy café boasted hip young people sitting at tables with colorful mugs, a clothing boutique offered low quality for high prices, and a drugstore with muted lighting promised a safe haven. He slowed to stare through the window of a shop with tiny, bite-sized cubes of cake. Once, he would’ve stared at the confections instead of the patrons and staff. He missed chocolate. More to the point, he missed having easy access to different flavors. Maybe he could find a cow willing to try eating different things to see if it had any impact on her blood for him.
Reflected in the window, he saw a gaggle of women and turned to get a better look. Ten cows huddled in a clump outside a club, assessing their choices. One in the center seemed drunk and appeared to be in charge. The rest ran the gamut from apprehensive to amused. In his experience, this kind of group had to be a birthday party or a bachelorette outing. So long as he steered clear of the sloppy drunk one, he’d be fine.
>
The redhead caught his eye. Unlike her friends, she wore a suit skirt with a vest and blouse, her hair tied up in a tight bun. Her mild frown spoke of annoyance and a desire to leave. He guessed she might have been snatched directly after work and dragged along. The other cows probably told her she needed to lighten up or let her hair down for a night.
When they flowed into the club, he hurried across the street to follow them in. Reaching it in time to catch the door for the last few, he smiled at the blonde in the rear who flashed him a toothsome come-hither. If he couldn’t have the redhead, he’d go for this one. He wanted the redhead, though.
The bouncer checked IDs and collected cover charges for the girls. Though he hated to do it to a guy, Stephen grabbed the burly man’s hand and licked it. While the guy’s eyes unfocused in bliss for a few seconds, Stephen stamped his own hand and moved on. The guy would only remember a brief dizzy spell. Given his size and muscle tone, he’d probably find it embarrassing and keep his mouth shut.
Inside, the pounding music beat in his chest. Flashing lights hit a disco ball and threw colored spots everywhere. The party princess grabbed his redhead’s sleeve and slurred something at her then shoved her toward the bar. His redhead stumbled into a table and he growled when another man reached out and offered her a steadying hand.
She gave that interloper a grateful smile and let him set her on her feet. Only a few steps away, Stephen tracked them to the bar where the guy settled his hand on his redhead’s butt. In this miasma of humanity, Stephen couldn’t smell if her smile at the guy was strained or genuine. She shifted away from him, though, and he thought he might get the opportunity to swoop in and rescue her.
As much as he wanted to rise up and watch from a perch out of sight, he couldn’t see any way to do it with no one noticing. The club’s corners had dim lighting, not darkness. He settled for leaning against the bar a few spots away and keeping track of her. To assuage the bartender, he ordered a cheap drink and handled it without drinking.
His redhead had trouble getting the bartender’s attention until the guy with her waved a twenty in his direction. She flashed him a fake smile and spent at least a minute placing a long order. The guy ducked to nuzzle at her neck and she squirmed away with a smile that grew more fixed and forced by the second.
Though he still smelled too much and felt too many heartbeats, Stephen suspected his redhead’s evening might take a turn for the worse any moment. He stepped away from the bar and caught sight of the guy’s hand as it reached much too low for a stranger’s fingers to probe. Stephen stumbled into him on purpose, sloshing his drink all over the guy’s pants and shoving him against the bar.
Grinning like a drunk fool, he laughed and shouted a cheap apology. His redhead escaped while Stephen slapped the guy on the shoulder hard enough to force him into the next person down. That next person happened to be a large, muscular gentleman with tattoos, and Stephen ducked away to let his redhead’s tormentor handle the situation on his own.
She stormed to the bathrooms. The back hallway had too much light for Stephen’s tastes. He slipped to the side, waiting for her out of sight. When it seemed like a long time had passed, he tapped a waitress on the arm.
“Hey, my girlfriend went into the bathroom like ten minutes ago. Can you check if she’s okay? Redhead in a suit with no jacket. Don’t tell her, though. She gets mad when I check up on her.”
The brunette cow snorted and nodded, then bustled off to the ladies’ room. She breezed back out half a minute later wearing a smirk. “Your girl is gone. Probably went out the back door.”
He frowned and dove down the hallway. Slamming the back door open, he stepped into a dark alley thick with the stench of rotting food and wondered what idiocy had prompted her to choose this over clustering with her friends. Maybe he’d chosen the wrong girl. Dumb cows would wind up dead cows, and disposing of a body would be a major hassle.
With a sigh, he caught the door before it shut and slipped inside again. That blonde would be fine. He stopped only two steps in when his redhead blocked his passage with a cool stare and crossed arms. The stern set of her shoulders drew his eye to her neck.
“Why are you following me?”
Stephen smiled, hoping it made him seem harmless. “Because you’re five steps above the garden-variety club bimbos lurking around here.”
She shifted her hands to her hips. “You think my friends are bimbos?”
“I haven’t met any of your friends. I have met a lot of girls who hang out at clubs, though. A fair number of them are only looking for guys who’ll buy them diamonds and horses.” He took a step towards her so the door could shut behind him. “The rest, an elite few, are worth meeting and getting to know.”
Her mouth quirked into a smirk. “But you don’t think too highly of yourself or anything.”
Now that he’d heard her talk for half a minute, he found her irresistible. “My mother always told me that women appreciate confidence in a man.”
“You do everything your mommy tells you?”
“No, but I listen to her advice.” He offered her a hand. “Can I buy you an obligation- free cup of coffee in a public place, or are you having too much fun with your friends? It’s not like they dragged you out kicking and screaming, right?”
She glanced back and her arms hung loose, signaling her interest. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
He smiled, pleased by her acceptance. “I’m Stephen.”
“Kris.”
“Pleased to meet you, Kris.” He escorted her through the club to let her pick up her purse. In silence, they walked to the trendy café and he bought her a cup of hot chocolate. To keep up appearances, he got himself the cheapest tea they had. Both found the place too loud with chatter to have a conversation and stepped out to walk down the street with their drinks.
“I’m guessing you have some kind of professional job.”
Kris nodded. “I’m a personal assistant for a jerk in an office. You?”
Usually, he told anyone who asked that he attended a nearby college. The lie stuck in his throat. Something about Kris made him want to tell the truth. He knew the rest of the team needed him to keep his mouth shut and ignored that inconvenient fact. “I’m a vampire.”
She let out a rich, rolling laugh that drew his attention to her mouth and kept it there. “Is that code for ‘stripper’?”
Wanting to show her for some reason, he took her hand and pulled her around a corner. Tossing his tea, he wrapped his arms around her and flew up until he felt confident no one would see them.
Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. She dropped her coffee to wrap her arms around his neck and cling to him. What she didn’t do, thankfully, was scream.
“No,” he said with a grin, “I’m actually a vampire.”
“Jesus Christ.” Peering down, she shook her head. “This is unbelievable. Did you actually spike my coffee somehow and now I’m having a really crazy dream?”
“Sorry, no. This is real. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“Not really, but damn.” Meeting his gaze again, she gulped. “Can we land someplace anyway? I’m afraid I’m going to lose my shoes. Or maybe my dinner.”
He checked the area and picked a building. Setting down on a tall, flat roof, he let go and watched her stumble a few steps away. “I wasn’t lying. I’m attracted to you. That’s why I bumped into that guy to distract him.”
Taking deep breaths, she rubbed her cheeks. Her blood pumped through her body loud enough to be distracting. She closed her eyes, and he figured it was to help herself think. “Okay. So, you’re a vampire. You can fly. Do you drink blood?”
“Yes.”
“Of course. Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be a vampire.”
“That’s kind of how it works, yeah.”
She opened her eyes and met his gaze. Though she showed no fear, her scent gave him a hefty dose of it. Under it, he smelled arousal. “Does it hurt?”
“No. As far as I can tell, it feels pretty good.”
She gulped. “Did you pick me up because you, er, need some blood right now?”
Holding up both hands in surrender, he smiled. “Only if you’re willing. I wouldn’t force myself on anyone.”
Her head bobbed in a nod, then she stopped and peered at him suspiciously. “Wait a minute. How often do you drink blood?”
“Every day, if I can.”
“So you pick up different women all the time and suck on them and move on? Is that why you grabbed me? To have a…a…really weird one night stand?”
He didn’t need her scent to pick up on her spiking anger. Every way he could think of to phrase his answer sounded awful in his head, so he paced to the edge of the roof and stared out, hoping for something better to fall out of his mouth. “I’m tired of the one night stands. It’s a really intimate thing, to drink someone’s blood. It’s a lot like making love. I keep doing it with strangers, and it’s flat and stale and fake.”
Turning to face her, he sighed. At least he could tell her anger had faded. “I don’t even know why I didn’t just pretend to be a regular guy trying to get to know a girl. Something about you…I don’t know. I didn’t want to start with a lie, I guess.”
Her expression softened. “That’s a pretty good pickup line.”
“If it was a line, I would’ve said ‘Honesty is the only path a true hero can take.’ ” He puffed out his chest and put his fists on his hips in his best Superman impression. When she laughed, he closed the distance between them to offer her his hand. “I’m just looking for the same thing everyone else is: someone I can connect with.”
She looked at his hand. “Yeah. Me too.” Slipping hers into his, she smiled. “Worst case, we hate each other, right?”
“Something like that.” He pulled her in close and lifted her off the ground. “What do you want to do for our first date?”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she grinned. “Let’s go flying.”
He scooped her up. “I thought you’d never ask.”
