by Dannika Dark
“See you when I see you!” he yelled over the music.
Getting to know the regulars wasn’t a bad idea. They noticed people who stood out—especially other regulars.
Chase might become useful after all.
I glanced at Niko in the back seat. “How did it go with the redhead?”
Christian was busy paying for gas, and his absence gave us the illusion of privacy.
Niko kept his head reclined and eyes closed. I had a bad feeling after we’d found him wandering around in the parking lot alone.
“Sorry about tonight,” I said under my breath. “Thanks for scoping out the place and verifying it’s not a Breed hangout. You won’t need to come with us next time—Christian stands out enough as it is.” I waited a beat, and when Niko didn’t say anything, I continued. “We came up with a plan to bait our dealer, so I’ll be hanging out there a lot for the next week or so.” I glanced down at my raggedy jeans. “I’ll probably need to buy some sexy clothes. I don’t have anything that would work, unless you count that slutty black dress that Christian—”
“She found me odd.”
I shifted in my seat. “What do you mean?”
His eyes opened halfway. “Odd. That’s what she said to me. My mannerisms and the way I speak and dress. She asked me what I did for a living.”
I forgot about that part. Humans usually made careers a topic of conversation—something I needed to think about before my next visit. “What did you say?”
“That I was a bodyguard. I knew she would ask about my employment, so I had to think of a profession that was freelance—one I could speak about convincingly.”
“And?”
He lifted his head. “She didn’t believe a blind man could be a bodyguard. They laughed and said I was cute, but it wasn’t a compliment. It was pity. The more I elaborated on my experience in martial arts and weaponry, the more they ridiculed me. All but the yellow one. She remained quiet, and her light dimmed with disappointment.”
My jaw set. “Want me to go back? I have no problem with kicking a woman’s ass. I’ll even leave my daggers in the car so it’s a fair fight.”
He generated a ball of light between his fingertips and idly played with it. “Let it go, Raven. As I said before, I have nothing in common with humans.”
“But you used to be one.”
He chuckled softly. “Over a thousand years ago. Besides, I had little in common with them even then. I was blind. They shut away people like me. Eventually my destiny would have led me to wander the roads as a beggar.” He crushed the light into his hands, sparks dissolving like dying embers.
I faced forward in my seat. “People are really shitty to each other sometimes.”
“Those with difficult lives have purpose.” He opened the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To be alone for a while.”
“We live in a mansion with plenty of rooms to be alone.”
“I need to walk. Surely you understand.”
I did. Except my domain was on rooftops. As expansive as the mansion was, the sights and sounds of the city were a welcome distraction to my overactive mind. I suspected Niko felt the same way. “Call if you need us to come pick you up,” I said. “No sense in wasting money on cab fare.”
He exited the vehicle and disappeared into a flurry of snow. Niko was a fantastic guy, and anyone with half a brain who spent five minutes talking to him realized it. Humans were usually more tolerant than Breed, but I should have known they’d cut him down.
“Those little bitches.”
When Christian got into the car, a curtain of snow blew in behind him. “Men don’t like to be rejected.”
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop.”
“It can hardly be helped when the dolt at the counter is prattling on about the weather.”
“Niko has needs like the rest of us, but he doesn’t put himself out there enough. He’s not used to rejection.”
“Sometimes a man’s ego and pride are all he has. Why would you set Niko up with a couple of cocktails?”
“I hate when you use that word to describe humans.”
“Would juice box suit your fancy? Or perhaps sippy cups.” Christian scratched his neck. “There’s nothing worse for an immortal than having a human turn you down because you’re not good enough.”
“Men get rejected all the time. Why should it matter if it’s by a human or a rhinoceros?”
“What you know about men would fill a thimble.”
“I beg to differ.”
“That snippy attitude will hinder your chances of picking up our trafficker. Most men aren’t attracted to rabid animals.”
I stared at my chipped nail polish. “I have no trouble in the flirting department.”
Christian shifted in his seat and smiled wolfishly. “Is that so?” He slid his hand between my legs.
“You better stop,” I breathed, my skin flushing at the thought of him reclining my seat back. “Niko might still be around.”
“That poor bastard is long gone.” He squeezed my leg again so that his pinky finger pressed against my sex. “Raven, I’m going to build this thing between us to such a scorching degree that you’re going to beg me to strip down those panties and take you hard.”
I laughed and knocked his hand away. “I think your ego is as big as your bank account.”
“Do you fancy me rich?”
“Asks the man who gave me a million-dollar necklace. You don’t spend your money on anything but candy. I think you’ve got more than enough squirreled away.”
He reached in the back and tossed the folded-up newspaper in my lap. “Perhaps you should consider buying a new car instead of used if you’re so eager to spend your paycheck.”
I slid my fingers over his thigh until my hand brushed against his flagpole, its position not quite at half-staff. His entire body tensed.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little wear and tear. Maybe I should learn how to drive a stick. Will you teach me?” I squeezed his thigh, eliciting such a strong reaction that I saw the vein on his neck pulsing. “I need someone to show me how to handle it. I never learned because I jerk it hard and grip tight until the entire car lurches to a stop.”
His eyes slid over to mine. “You’re a sly little fox, you are,” he growled sexily.
Tempted to escalate this little game, I instead withdrew my hand and smiled coyly as he started up the engine. I swear… whenever that man looked at me, it was as if every hair on my body received tiny shocks of electricity.
“You’re a bad influence, Mr. Poe.”
He revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. “Thank the heavenly angels I was born with a mountain of willpower.”
I snapped open the paper to the classifieds. “Which will crumble at your feet once you see what I look like in a pair of see-through lace panties.” I turned the page, using the streetlights and my Vampire eyes to read the ads. “Hey, this one sounds perfect. It’s a 1974 Ford pickup. Rebuilt with exterior… Wait a second.”
“You need something fast and reliable. Not a piece of tinfoil. You pick cars like you do men.”
I blinked at the ad. “This… this is my father’s number.” I scanned the short ad just to make sure and then shifted my gaze to the snowy road ahead. “Why is he selling his truck?”
Christian remained quiet, and I glared at him.
“Do you know something about this?”
“Now don’t be giving me that look. You said yourself that he didn’t spend enough money on himself.”
I didn’t like the idea of Vampire scrubbing, but it had been a necessary evil in order to see my father. Now my worst fears had come true. Christian hadn’t just erased my father’s memory of our meeting; he’d implanted a false desire without my knowledge. “What did you tell him?”
“I merely suggested he should purchase a shiny red truck or go on a cruise. Can you blame the old man for finally living a little?”
“What’s tha
t supposed to mean? He’s over me? Hoorah, now I can buy a new pickup?”
“Jaysus, you take everything so personally. The man lives in a shoebox and drives a piece of tin. Don’t you want more for him? He needs to let go of your death and live what’s left of his life.”
I ripped the ad out of the paper. “You need to call for me and buy it.”
“Are you mad?”
“He worked on that truck with his bare hands. It might look unreliable on the outside, but that’s the most dependable piece of machinery this side of Cognito.”
“Aye. Because she had the best mechanic. Who’s going to work on her now?”
“Shepherd’s good with tools. I want it. There’s no fucking way I’m letting someone else buy his truck.” I glanced down at the ad. “Look at this! He’s only selling it for four hundred. Whoever buys this will probably strip it for parts. You’re going to call and make him an offer, but I want you to give him more than a few hundred bucks.”
“Do you think buying your da’s pride and joy is a smart idea? He’ll recognize his own truck on the streets, especially with the OUTLAW sticker on the back. Not unless you paint the damn thing and scrape the back windshield.”
I shoved the rest of the newspaper in the back seat. “He’ll never see me in it. My daddy isn’t the kind of guy who goes out a lot, and Cognito is a big place. I didn’t even know the Bricks existed until you showed me. The odds of him ever bumping into me by accident are less than zero. And the decal stays.”
“Didn’t we agree your seeing him would put an end to this? For feck’s sake, you got that infernal music box that drives me up the wall at night. Now you want his truck, and in three years, you’ll want his trailer. Where does it end?”
“All my childhood memories are in that truck. He worked on it to keep it in perfect running condition and told me that one day he’d give it to me if I wanted. But when I left home, I was too stupid to want it. This isn’t up for debate, Christian. I need that truck.”
“The past belongs in the past.”
Maybe Christian was right. Maybe I didn’t need an old pickup truck that I couldn’t properly care for half as well as my old man could, but it was painful letting go of it all. If I could hold on to one piece of him—something he loved—then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. And he loved that damn truck.
Up ahead, the naked backside of a man came into view. He was running alongside the road, snow pelting him. Christian didn’t slow the truck to gawk at the comical sight, and as we passed, I turned my head to get a better look.
When I spotted the mole on his cheek, I faced forward.
Someone had scared the crazy out of Kyle, and that someone was Christian. He’d probably lured him out of the club and charmed the poor guy into thinking he was a deer or an Olympic runner. And I knew the moment I noticed the smug satisfaction on Christian’s face, that regardless of what he tried to preach, he wasn’t a man who could let go of the past either.
Chapter 10
After Wyatt successfully secured our access to the Vampire lovers’ website, he posted a request for a woman with mismatched eyes. We added the “money is no object” line, and Niko rephrased everything to sound more like an ancient had written it.
In the days that followed, I’d visited the club four times to become a familiar face, but we still hadn’t heard back from our mysterious dealer. So far, the only replies to our message were from two girls. They posted selfies, and it was obvious they were both wearing special effects contacts. All we could do was cast a line and wait. I’d gone twice in jeans and the other two times in my slutty black dress. Christian suggested my outfit was too revealing for any sensible immortal man to appreciate, so this time I decided to go another route.
“Hot mama.” Wyatt waggled his eyebrows when I strutted into the dining room. He pushed away from the wall and circled around me. “My, oh my. If this is the direction this house is going fashion wise, I vote yes.”
I glanced down at my tight leather pants. No place to hide daggers—not that they would provide much defense against a Vampire. My tight black shirt had a high collar and long sleeves with the shoulders cut out. Elegant yet sexy.
Gem peered around her booth seat. “That’s really you. I like it so much better than the jeans you’re always wearing. All that black makes your necklace stand out, and those boots are to die for.”
My heels clicked on the floor as I headed over and gave her the model strut. “They look all right, but they’re gonna kill my feet. And don’t get excited about the leathers. I don’t think I could wear these all the time unless they were breathable.”
Wyatt leaned against the edge of the table. “Better stick close to the bar. If you boogie down in those all night, you’ll be sweating like a pig on the run.”
Gem peered up at him. “How would you know?”
“I went through a tight leather phase a few decades ago.”
I mashed my lips together to stifle a laugh. Wyatt had more stories than a high-rise.
Wyatt stepped away from the table, arms folded. “Hey, it was the eighties, and everyone was doing it.”
Gem snorted and tied one of the laces on her tall sneakers. “You lose coolness points if they were red.”
“Where’s your hot date tonight?” I asked, noticing her plain sweaterdress and leggings.
She ruffled her wavy hair with her hand. “Hooper’s at work.”
“Does he have long hours?”
Her violet eyes flashed up, and she stared vacantly at the window behind Viktor’s chair. “Alas, I have to wait until he has a day off to see him. When he leaves the club, all he wants to do is sleep.”
“I guess it sucks being the flexible one. Why don’t you go up there and pay him a visit?”
She turned her head and widened her eyes. “I can’t do that! He’ll think I’m a stalker. Besides, going to the club isn’t spending quality time together. This is why I have no business dating the same guy more than once. I didn’t realize how complicated every little thing becomes.”
I rocked on my heels. “So what are you two doing in here? Lunch is over.”
“Snack time ain’t,” Wyatt said, staring at the kitchen doorway. “She won’t let me in the kitchen.”
“Who?”
He raised his arms and dropped them heavily at his side. “Kira. I came down for a soda, but the kitchen’s off-limits. I keep hearing things banging around in there. All I want is a drink. And maybe a frozen burrito.”
“Maybe you should put another machine upstairs.”
He dipped his chin. “Keep on goading me, and see what happens to the price of Fritos. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you eyeing them.”
I held my heart-shaped pendant and ran it along the chain as my thoughts drifted. “Can you keep an eye on the website tonight while we’re gone?”
He pinched some scruff on his chin and regarded his white socks. “As always.”
“Call if anything comes up. It’s been almost a week, and I’m starting to feel like this guy doesn’t want to make any money.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to look eager.”
“He better get eager. I’ve done the short skirt, the fishnet stockings, and the black dress. I’m all out of ideas.”
Wyatt smiled. “Maybe you should meet at a nudist bar.”
“Ew.” Gem wrinkled her nose. “You’d have to hose down the barstools every night.”
He barked out a laugh. “You think the ones you sit on now are clean, Mother Teresa? There isn’t enough holy water in Cognito to wash the filth off those greasy stools.”
I headed toward the kitchen doorway.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Wyatt sang.
Ignoring him, I went in. Kira must have heard my boots, because she appeared out of nowhere to shoo me out.
But I wasn’t easily shooed.
“Wyatt needs a drink,” I informed her. When she didn’t respond, I jerked my thumb behind me and then used my hand to mimic drinking.
She wiped her flushed forehead with the back of her hand, her hair askew from the loose braids on either side of her head that barely held it all together. I was curious to see what she’d been up to, so I ventured farther inside and looked around.
The granite countertops and appliances gleamed, as did the floor, which still had water drying on it. The long, narrow kitchen had small windows along the far wall that overlooked the front property. She must have gone outside and collected acorns, dead leaves, and twigs to fill the tall vase in front of the window.
Nice touch.
I approached the kitchen island and noticed the dust bunnies beneath the cabinets were nonexistent. “You keep a tidy house.”
She wrung a dish towel between her hands, eyes downcast.
Wyatt strode in and yanked open the fridge. He bent over, giving me a good view of his ass. “Where’s my Mountain Dew? Hey, wait a second.” He shut the door and opened the freezer. After a beat, Wyatt slammed the door and stormed over to the deep freezer near the entranceway.
Gem wandered in and leaned against the wall. “Are you going to build a home in there?” she asked Wyatt, who was headfirst in the freezer with his feet off the ground.
He stood up, frost clinging to the ends of his brown hair. “Our food’s gone.”
“She probably moved everything so she could clean.”
Wyatt looked at Kira like a man in survival mode. “Where’s my soda? And the ice cream?”
When she shrugged, he began opening all the cabinets. “The chips are gone. And the waffle mix.”
Gem inched in. “Hey, I like my waffles.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Here I was, going undercover to bait a sadistic Vampire, and Wyatt’s biggest crisis was discovering his snacks were missing.
He opened a narrow closet and dragged the heavy trash can out. “Son of a ghost. She threw away all the food.”
Kira tried to pull the trash away from him, but he held on firmly.
“This isn’t trash,” Wyatt explained, holding up a bottle of orange soda. “This is what we eat. Haven’t you ever seen food before?”
Without missing a beat, Kira reached for the soda and twisted it open. She then waltzed over to the windowsill and began pouring it onto a small plant.
