Kaden shrugged. “To be fair, I don’t think she meant to change him. I think she meant to kill him. The conversion counted as a whoops.”
George stared at Kaden. The other man had always seemed a heartless bastard. It seemed maybe there was a reason for his cold demeanor. Kaden turned out to be, in fact, a member of the Undead. A bloodsucker. And so was George.
“And, if it means anything, George,” Kaden continued, “I killed her and informed the Council of the whole thing. The club will be investigated, the woman’s history unraveled. Vampires can’t just go around making other Vampires willy-nilly. There’s a long, horrific process of paper work. Trust me, I went through it.”
George sat down on the bed. He put his head in his hands. “There’s a Council.”
“Oh, yeah, buddy. You will get to know them real well. They might want to put you down, but don’t worry, I’ll take your part.”
He jerked his head up. “Put me down?”
“You’re an undocumented Vampire. An unknown entity. We control our population.”
He needed to make sense of this all at some point, but right then there were two things he had to figure out. “Ryan, you knew about this?”
His best friend nodded. “I do. Most everyone in town knows a Vampire. Texas is a good place to be Paranormal. Live and let live, you know.”
“The blood I drank.” He gulped, the reality of what he’d ingested earlier dawning on him. It wasn’t just gross, it was what he’d have to consume to survive. The horror might be too much to manage. “Who did it belong to?”
“It came from a blood bank. We’ve been pouring it down your throat for two days. Warming it in the microwave. There are very easy ways in this modern world to not have to show up at your neighbor’s door at two in the morning to eat them. As long as you plan.”
“As long as you plan.” He knew he sounded hysterical, but he didn’t care to do anything about it just then. “Wait. Two days. My date with Trudy. Did anyone tell her I couldn’t make it?”
Had she thought he stood her up? He needed to call her immediately. George stood up, where the fuck had his phone gone?
Ryan put his hand on George’s shoulder. “I went over there. Told her you were sick and would have to reschedule.”
The woman probably thought he picked up stripper cooties, which, in a sense, he had. George rubbed at his eyes. He could hear Ryan’s pulse. A slow steady thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Followed by the distinctive whoosh of Ryan’s blood flowing through his veins.
From Kaden he heard nothing. Not one internal noise.
“George.” Kaden’s tone sounded like a warning, but George ignored it. He was too fascinated with Ryan’s steady heartbeat. Had anything ever sounded more appealing?
He lifted his gaze and stared at Ryan’s throat. The veins seemed to glow, inviting someone to reach out and touch them. George would have to be the fellow to do it. Yes, he wanted the gift in Ryan’s neck. Would his best friend’s life force taste the same as the stuff in the cup or would it be different to drink directly from the source?
“George.” Kaden stepped between him and Ryan. “I know just what you’re thinking, and it is the exact reason you can’t be around humans for months until we get you under control. If this had been Council-sanctioned, you’d be locked up until you got control of yourself. When I take you to meet the Supreme tomorrow, we’ll see if he’ll do it for you.”
“Huh?” Ryan looked between them. “What’s going on?”
“Go home. George won’t be company for a long while.”
“But what should I do about the wedding? He’s a groomsman."
Kaden blew out a long breath. “Do whatever you want. But find someone else unless you want your wedding party to be the best thing on the menu. Got it?”
Ryan paled and backed up a bit. “Was George about to drink me?”
“Yes.” George spoke the truth. Why hide it? “I want to eat you more than anything.”
His oldest friend and the toughest guy he’d ever known turned tail and rushed from the room. Seconds later, he heard a door slam farther away in the house indicating Ryan had smartly left the scene all together.
He turned his attention back to Kaden. “And if I don’t want any of it? If I want to end all of this? How can I make it happen?”
“I never figured you for suicide.” Kaden stared out the window.
“Don’t judge the question. Just answer.” Damn it. He wanted to know.
“Eventually, you’ll build up resistance to some sunlight, but currently it would end you. Almost did out on the street. Stake through the heart will do it, too. Fire. Pick a death.”
Right. He’d see what the Council said and then he’d make some decisions. George ran his hand through his hair. So much for convincing Trudy she should be his wife. He’d never let her near him again. He’d become a monster, and the beautiful lady of the light belonged nowhere near him.
Life was over.
Chapter Two
Trudy washed out another glass and bit down on her lip to keep from sighing. The old-fashioned juke box the owner had installed in Harrah’s the year before played The Dixie Chicks, and she tapped her foot to the music. The clientele didn’t much care for the group, but she was working alone, so she could listen to whatever she wanted.
She closed her eyes and let the music move over her. Of all the things she missed from her life before, not listening to her own music every day probably ached her the most. Well, music choice and seeing her family and not being scared of the things that should be afraid of her instead. Trudy let her eyes open. The bar was mostly in order. Next, she would take the chairs off the tables, and then the establishment would be ready for lunch. The owners couldn’t complain about her work ethic. If anyone ever came asking about her after she vanished, they’d only be able to say she’d shown up every day, worked hard, never stole, and kept to herself for the most part.
The last bit nagged at her a bit. Why had she told George she’d go on a date with him? It had been a serious error in judgment. A big one. She should be glad he cancelled, or had Ryan do it anyway.
So why did it bother her so much he had backed off?
Trudy moved the chairs off the tables at a rapid speed. Each clunk of the chair on the floor made her feel slightly better, as if the sound itself could relieve some of the tension in her soul.
She hadn’t even initially been attracted to George. She’d always liked buff bad boys. The motorcycle-riding, tattooed type. He attracted her in the intellectual, nerdy kind of way. It had been obvious he’d been interested in her from moment one, and she’d done nothing to discourage it.
Why would she? If she dressed the way she did, the patrons tipped her well, and his crush had meant ten extra dollars a day in her sock drawer. Money she would need when she went on the run again, a when situation and not an if scenario.
Then she’d read his damn books. Hell, she’d read them twice each. She marched to the door, then flipped the sign from closed to open. She probably still had an hour before anyone showed up. The lunchtime crowd trickled in for beers around noon and stayed until three. Then she had a lull until five.
Unless someone needed an early buzz. Her job meant seeing they got what they needed and to never judge or ask why.
She leaned back against the bar. So why was she so bummed George, who she had only started to fantasize about after she’d seen his creative genius float off the page, cancelled the date he’d tried so hard to make with her?
“Trudy, you have got to get over herself.” Talking to herself couldn’t be a good sign, but it had been years since she’d had anyone she could tell the truth. Ego turned out to be a funny thing, and evidently she still had one even after everything that happened. Who would have thought it? “Better change the music.”
She stomped over to the machine trying not to acknowledge how much she had missed George sitting on the opposite side of the bar for the last five days. He was either sick, which Ryan had said, or
the whole thing had been some kind of game to see if he could get the bartender to go out with him, and then the second he had he’d moved on.
Either way, despite the fact she shouldn’t spend any more time or energy on the subject, she needed to find out about George. Then she’d be able to leave it alone. She hoped.
****
Trudy had never been to the side of town where George lived. There had been no reason to visit the residential areas. She lived three blocks from the bar and grocery shopped another block away. Other than that, she had no life on purpose. No one would miss her. No one would be hurt if she disappeared.
Except she’d thought the man, who evidently lived in a house three times the size of any house she’d ever been in before, would think about her occasionally. She had a hard time getting a good look at the house except for the small porch light illuminating it at eleven o’clock at night. She’d worked more than twelve hours before the owner had shown up to close. A good payday made for a tiring night.
What the hell was she doing? If he turned out to be sick the last thing he needed was her knocking on his door after dark. But she’d snooped through his bar tab, googled his address, found the directions, and she couldn’t chicken out. If he didn’t want to see her, she’d tell him what she thought of his mind games and never speak to him again.
Maybe she’d move on a little faster than she expected. Another two hundred miles down the road there had to be a bar willing to employ her and not ask too many questions.
She marched up to the house. Close up, she could see the peeling white paint and a crack in the side that made her wonder if the house had foundation problems. George had inherited this place when his mother died, or so he’d told her. He also wrote at all hours of the day and night, except when he came and sat across from her at the bar. So distracted and creative, he probably never thought to fix anything in the house. The conversations they’d shared at the bar had taught her a great deal about him. If her father still lived, he could have come and fixed all of this for George. He would have loved to help.
She pushed the thought from her tired brain. Truth was, if Daddy hadn’t died, she’d never have met George to begin with because she never would have landed in the heap of trouble which brought her to Hedy.
Trudy banged on the door and then held her breath. How long should she stand there and wait to see if he answered? She’d raised her hand to knock again when it cracked open.
The inside of the house appeared mostly dark, and only the porch light illuminated George’s pale form on the other side of the partially glass door.
“Trudy?” His deep voice washed over her, like a boon to her tiredness. Her reaction should concern her, but she’d deal with the ramifications of it later.
“George?” She smiled. “Are you okay? I was worried.” And pissed. And obsessive. And nosy.
He laughed slightly, but it wasn’t a warm sound. “No. I’m not doing particularly well, and I’m sorry I haven’t called to apologize about our dinner. I spend a lot of time unconscious, and I’m losing time. How long ago were we supposed to meet?”
His question sounded bad. “Are you on something?”
“I wish.” He sighed loudly. “I think you should probably go. It’s not safe for you to be here.”
“Are you contagious?” What had happened to him? The last she’d heard he went to a bachelor party. What had those strippers done to him?
“No. But you need to go.”
She realized a second before he acted that he meant to shut the door, and she put her foot in the way. He lived alone. If he was so sick he needed someone to care for him, she should stay. Much as she would never have credited herself as caregiver, she would figure out some way she could help him. Soup or something.
Trudy leaned against the door, and he eventually let her step inside although she heard him groan when she entered the hallway. The poor guy. He must be feeling awful. Was he running a fever? She reached forward to touch him, and he backed up three steps.
“Please, Trudy. For the love of anything you might believe in, go home and don’t come back here. Ever.”
“Okay, George.” She put her hands on her hips. “I know we don’t know each other well. I realize I’m just some girl who works at the bar you go to but….”
He interrupted, placing his hand out in front of her to stave off her response. “Please don’t think that. You’re not just some girl. You’re the girl. I had stupid dreams of our date and how I would make you see you wanted me. But those ideas are not possible. I’d change reality if I could. I need you to go.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He had seen her? With a future together? If she still let herself cry, she might tear up. It had been years since she let herself dream of a normal future. A tingling started at her nape, and her long put-away investigative instincts roared to life.
They needed some light on this subject and they needed it right now. She walked to the side of the room and flipped on the switch.
George made a growling noise. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“Why?” Even as she asked, she scanned him. For multiple weeks, George had sat across from her, and, over time, his face had become one of the few in the world she looked forward to seeing.
Somehow, in the last four days, he had changed more than was possible—or should be anyway. His face had become all hard angles, and his eyes appeared bigger. He’d also grown about two sizes. Formerly lean muscled, he’d grown bulky under his clothes. Even his hair had lengthened and, maybe she imagined it, but it seemed even a darker brown.
“All right.” She stared at him. Her heart fluttered, and her hands shook. She knew the feelings from years of experience. “What happened to you? I know you’re not a Werewolf because I don’t feel an overwhelming need to cut off your head and you’re not sporting fur all over your body.”
“There are Werewolves?” He closed his eyes briefly as if they pained him.
“Answer me, George. What has happened here?” Her temper had skyrocketed even if it shouldn’t have. If some thing had messed with George, then she wanted to go out and kill it. Even if, in her current situation, that would be akin to walking on water. She couldn’t be anyone’s savior when she herself had become such a target.
“I’m a Vampire. I got bit by a stripper. She wanted to kill me. I wish she had. I spent all day yesterday trying not to attack Ryan. All I can think about is your rapidly increasingly pulse. I’m sucking blood out of plastic bags as if it’s going out of fashion. I’m a fucking Vampire, and I need you to go before I hurt you.”
His voice had raised a notch at the end of his speech, and she couldn’t blame him. Some Vampire had turned him without his consent? Shit, the Council must be freaking out.
“Well, I have good news and bad news.” She shrugged off her coat and walked into his kitchen. Not surprisingly, there were bags of blood on nearly every surface. After she placed her jacket over the back of one of his chairs, she grabbed the garbage bag. He couldn’t leave strewn blood bags everywhere.
George followed her as far as the entry. “You said good news and bad news?”
“The good news is you will be fine. Look at your friend Kaden. He’s a Vampire, right? There haven’t been any killing sprees around here. He’s clearly got the blood lust under control.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call Kaden my friend. He’s more Ryan’s….wait a minute, how did you know he’s a Vampire? I didn’t even know until I woke up and he told me.”
She smiled up at him. Still the same old George. Buff and undead, but the foundation remained the same. “If you know what you’re doing, then you know what to look for. We never had problems with Vampires. If anything we’re on the same side. Vamps hate Werewolves, too. If you had walked into the bar looking as you do, post-change, I’d have immediately thought you were a Vamp. I failed to anticipate this, so I wasn’t sure what happened.”
“You need to explain what you mean. I’m not sure my neurotransmitt
ers are functioning at full capacity but I don’t get any of this.”
“Come, sit down.” She pulled out the chair, and he entered the room slowly. He kept his gaze trained on the floor. She’d seen other Vampires stare down in the past. Either instinct or Kaden had taught it to him. If he avoided looking at the blood supplier, in this case Trudy, he could manage not to crave the substance quite so much. He eventually shuffled his way to the chair and sat down.
“Do you want to know the bad news? You never asked.” She sat across from him at the table.
“I know.” He raised his gaze. “How much worse could it get?”
Her heart turned over. If she had been on the fence about her feelings before, she now fell officially into head-over-heels crushing on George. He needed her, and she could feel his soul calling out to her as if they belonged together. It sounded cheesy even in her head but she couldn’t deny the sensation right then.
Maybe later she’d be less sentimental, but she had to go for it. She trusted her instincts and remained alive because she did. Currently, they screamed at her to acknowledge that George the newly formed Vampire belonged to her.
“The bad news is you can’t drink my blood. Well, you could. But you would hate the taste. I take an essence of garlic pill every day. The second you started to suck on me, you’d gag. Sorry.”
“You call not being able to suck from you bad news? It’s actually good news. I don’t want to bite you. I don’t want to desire Ryan’s blood, either. I want this all to be a bad dream.”
She stood up and walked to the fridge. She pulled out a bag of O negative and poured it into a cup. He had a countertop microwave, and she warmed it up for a second. “I’m told it tastes better a little warm.”
After the microwave dinged, she crossed to him and handed him the red substance. He sucked it down, his eyes on hers the whole time.
Bite Marks Page 2
