“That’s good.” I give his hand a squeeze. “Because I think I feel the same way.”
We stare at each other again. I can see the longing in his eyes and I know it’s not because he wants to do to me what Hunter wanted to do. He wants me. As much as I want him.
He leans forward slowly and presses his soft lips against mine. I wonder briefly how many women he’s kissed during the 127 years he’s been alive. Probably hundreds. But the way he’s kissing me, you’d think he’d just discovered it. I’ve never been kissed this way—like he wants it more than anything else in the world. Maybe because I’ve never been kissed by a man who was truly in love with me before.
Chapter 34: Brooke
Jamie and I talk nonstop for the rest of the meal. I press him for details of his life over the past century. It’s weird to talk about something so crazy like it’s a normal thing. If I hadn’t seen Hunter’s face melt before my eyes then heal five minutes later, I would never have believed any of this.
“Who was your favorite President?” I ask him.
He thinks about it. “Woodrow Wilson.”
“Are you serious?”
“Why not?”
“Woodrow Wilson is not anyone’s favorite President,” I say. “You have to pick JFK or FDR. Or you can say Obama. That would be okay.”
“I liked Wilson,” he says. “He was a smart guy. He was President during the Great War.”
“It’s cute that you call it the Great War,” I say. “Like you’re an old man.”
“Well, I am an old man. Technically.”
I take a bite of my burger. “You don’t act like an old man. Well, most of the time.”
“Gee, thanks.”
I wink at him. “You don’t kiss like an old man.”
“Thank God for that.”
“I’ve got another one for you,” I say. “What kind of music did you listen to on the radio when you were a kid?”
“The sounds of silence,” he says. “There were no radios back then.”
“Seriously?” I gasp. “No radio and no television? That sounds awful.”
He shrugs. “We kept busy.”
I nudge his knee with mine. “Did you go out with a lot of girls?”
“Not that kind of busy.” He rolls his eyes. “It was different then. We didn’t really go on dates. I’d call on Mary and her parents might let her come out to sit with me on the porch or else I’d come in for dinner. It wasn’t like we could make out or anything.”
I watch him slicing into his steak. It’s so rare that blood drips out of it onto the plate. “Do you miss her a lot?” I ask.
He lowers his eyes. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Just… ask me something else.”
A silence hangs between us. I wonder what happened with this girl, Mary. He already told me that Hunter killed her. But now I’m starting to think there’s something else he’s keeping from me.
“Your brother isn’t really an investment banker, is he?” I ask.
He laughs darkly. “An investment banker? You’ve got to be kidding me. Chas never worked a day in his life.”
“So how come he’s so loaded?”
He cringes. “Do you really want to know?”
I hesitate. Do I want to know? But now that he said it like that, I’m going to be picturing the worst until he tells me. “Yes, I want to know.”
“He breaks into people’s houses,” he says. “Kills everyone inside and robs them blind. He knows how to crack safes and pick locks.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah, I try not to think about it.” He stares down at his water glass—I wonder how many things he has to try not to think about. “Ask me something else that doesn’t involve him.”
I take a bite of my burger. I got it medium-rare, a hair more cooked than Jamie’s steak. I have to admit, I prefer my meat bloody too. “What was the first movie you ever saw in the theater?” I ask.
Jamie chews on the steak as he considers his answer. “Well, we didn’t have a theater where I grew up. But then I moved to New York after I had to… to leave. So I think the first movie I saw was in 1907. Ben Hur.”
“I saw that!” I say excitedly. “With Charlton Heston, right?”
He smiles wryly. “No, not that one. This one was about fifteen minutes long and it was a silent film. They didn’t have talkies until the 1920s.”
“Talkies,” I giggle. “You sound like somebody’s great-grandfather.”
“Imagine that.”
A thought suddenly occurs to me. “You… you’re not somebody’s great-grandfather, are you?”
“No!” he replies so vehemently that I know he must be certain of it. “You realize any child of mine would be… like me, right? I could never…”
“Oh,” I murmur.
“I’d get a vasectomy if I wasn’t so worried it would heal itself,” he mutters. “But I’m never going to have children. Ever.”
“That’s… understandable.”
“Fortunately,” he says, “condoms have been around for a long time. Not in this country, of course, because Americans are prudes, but Europe… well, I spent quite a few years there after the Great War.”
Hmm. Well, it doesn’t seem like Jamie was so broken up over his beloved Mary that he decided to become a monk. Apparently, he’s been with his fair share of women over the years. Although since he’s been living downstairs from me, he hasn’t had a regular girlfriend. I wonder if that had something to do with me.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had sex with a guy who has over a hundred years of sexual experience,” I muse.
He leans in to whisper in my ear, “It’s mind blowing.”
He kisses me again. God, I wish we didn’t have to board a train tonight, because all I can think about is going off someplace private with him.
Jamie glances at his watch. “We better head out. We’ve got a train to catch, and I’m sure Hunter will be back here soon to make sure I finished the job.”
Once we’ve parked and are walking to the front door, I can see Jamie scanning the streets. “Are you looking for him?” I ask.
He nods.
“I wouldn’t worry,” I say. “There’s a cop watching the building.”
His mouth falls open. “There’s a cop watching our building? Are you serious?”
I shrug. “Well, yeah. What’s wrong?”
“I just…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Look, the name James Kramer isn’t going to stand up to intense scrutiny. I’ve got a social security number and all that, but if there were any kind of major investigation…”
“Oh.” I bite my lip, realizing his point. “I’m sorry. The detectives are looking for Hunter and they know we were dating. I don’t really have a choice about them watching the building.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, although he doesn’t look thrilled. “It’s fine for now, but… I probably can’t come back here.”
We walk into the building together and I can tell Jamie is trying not to get too close to me, now that he knows the cops are watching. It’s obviously making him very nervous.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask him. “That you can’t come back here?”
He’s quiet for a second. “I don’t think it’s safe for me to live here anymore. You can come back, but… I probably shouldn’t.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay. I’ve spent most of my life on the move. I’m used to it.”
I frown at him. “And what about me?”
He reaches out to take my hand. “I told you I love you, Brooke. But… I could never expect you to…”
I look away from him. “I understand.”
Jamie looks really sad all of a sudden. I think it dawns on us both at once that there’s no future for the two of us. I want to settle down with a man and have a family, but I can never have that with Jamie. He won’t age the way I will—when I’m
seventy, he’ll still look like he’s in his thirties. And he doesn’t want kids—ever. We can have an affair for a month or so, but ultimately, we will end long before death does us part.
“Can I go up to my apartment for a few minutes?” I ask him.
His brow furrows. “Why? I don’t know if it’s safe.”
“I need to pack.”
“I thought you said you were going to buy all new stuff.”
I make a face. “Obviously I was lying this morning because I had no intention of going with you. You knew that, didn’t you?”
I get a dark laugh out of him. “Yeah, I did. Okay, go pack, but I need to check out your apartment.”
Jamie walks me to my apartment, and does the usual drill of looking through every inch of it before he’ll let me come inside. He’s not quick, and I’m getting worried about how much time I’ll have to pack before we need to catch our train. I can tell he’s worried too, because when he comes out of my bedroom, he says, “You’ve got ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes!” I exclaim. “That’s impossible.”
He looks down at his watch, then back at me. “Fine. Fifteen minutes and not a second more. And I’ll run downstairs and grab my own bag.” He glances out the window. “It’s still light out. Hunter is probably waiting for the sun to go down.”
“Because he’s a vampire.”
Jamie rolls his eyes. “He’s not a vampire. He just… I don’t know, he likes to kill after dark. It’s his MO.” He gives me a warning look. “But it’s not a rule. So don’t leave the apartment without me. Got it?”
I salute. “Aye aye, Captain.”
Jamie seems reluctant to leave, but he doesn’t want to risk missing our train, so he goes. I close the door behind him and lock it. I’m trying to focus on the good—I’m going to have a month hidden away with a sexy guy who has over a hundred years of sexual experience. I’m not going to think about the fact that Jamie and I have no future together. Or the fact that the only reason we’re going away is because someone wants to kill me.
I stand beside the door for a moment, listening to the sound of Jamie limping down the hallway. I lean my forehead against the door, trying to push away a wave of sadness in the pit of my stomach. There’s nothing to feel sad about. This is going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.
And then I feel the knife bite into my throat.
Chapter 35: Brooke
“I can’t believe he left you alone in here.”
Hunter’s voice is in my ear. I can feel his hot breath on my neck and the blade of the knife is cold against my skin. His other hand is wrapped around me from behind, immobilizing my arms.
“Hunter,” I gasp.
“I thought for sure he wouldn’t leave you alone for a second,” he muses. “Not when he knows I’m around…”
“Please,” I manage, but I’m afraid to even swallow with the knife so close to my windpipe.
“Of course,” he adds, “there’s nothing he could have done if he had stayed. We’d be in the same position we’re in right now. Except this way I get to have some time alone with you.”
And then I feel his warm lips against my neck, sliding up to my jaw. I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“How did you get in here?” I whisper.
He laughs. The sound is so horrible that I cringe. “Locks have never been an issue for me.”
I take a breath, trying to stay calm even as my heart is racing in my chest. “The police are outside, you know.”
“The police have never been an issue for me either.”
I look down at my shoes. There’s a bit of a heel on them. Would it be enough to injure Hunter so that he’ll let me go?
As if reading my thoughts, he whispers in my ear, “Don’t try anything with me, Brooke. My plan was to wait for Tom to come back and kill you in front of him. But I’m more than happy to do it now. Either way.”
As he speaks, the knife cuts deeper into my throat. Another half an inch and it’ll all be over.
“You should feel honored,” he tells me. “Tom hasn’t partaken in a long time—too long. Drinking from you will be his reawakening.”
“He’ll never do it,” I say in a shaky voice.
He laughs again. “Oh, I think he will.”
“Never.”
He leans in closer to me so that I can feel the stubble of his five o’clock shadow on my face. “He did before.”
I feel sweat accumulating in my armpits. “What are you talking about?”
“With that redheaded girl he loved—Mary,” he recalls. “The one he thought he was going to get married to.” He snorts at the idea of it. “He screamed at me when I killed her, but when it came down to it, he drank. Every last bit of her.”
I remember how quiet Jamie got when I mentioned that girl. Could it be true? Did he really drain the blood from his first love?
Would he do it to me too?
“You don’t know Tom,” he hisses in my ear. “You don’t know what he’s really like. You have no idea. I know him better than anyone and I know he needs this. He needs to feast.” He digs the knife about a millimeter into my neck. “I’m going to bring him back. Remind him who he really is.”
I hear a knock at the door. Hunter tightens his grip on me. “Tell him to come in,” he whispers. “And I swear to God, if you warn him, you’ll choke on your next words with blood.”
He gives me a shake and I called out weakly, “Come in!”
“Hey, Brooke,” I hear Jamie’s voice from behind the door as he struggles to get it open. “I brought something for the train…” I can now see he’s holding up a bottle of wine but he nearly drops it when he sees Hunter holding the knife to my throat. “Chas…”
“Close the door, Tom,” Hunter instructs him.
Jamie obediently shuts the door behind him, his eyes never leaving my face. Hunter looks at the wine in his hand and laughs, “Is that really the cheap crap you bring for a woman you want to sleep with?”
“What are you doing here, Chas?” Jamie says, his voice trembling with anger. “We agreed Brooke is mine.”
“No.” Hunter shakes his head. “We agreed you were going to kill her. You didn’t keep your end of the bargain. So I’m not under any obligation to keep mine.”
“Let her go, Chas,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I don’t want to let her go,” he hisses. “And besides, Brooke and I were having a very interesting conversation. Apparently, she doesn’t know about how you drank the blood of your very first love.”
Jamie’s mouth falls open. “That… that isn’t true.”
“Don’t lie, Tom.”
“You killed her.” Jamie’s face is turning crimson. “I tried to stop you, but you… you fucking slit her throat.”
“I killed her,” Hunter agrees, “but you drank.”
I look at Jamie, and I can tell from his face that it’s true. He drank the blood of the only woman he ever loved. I can’t say that it doesn’t make me slightly ill, even though I can see how ashamed he is. No wonder he can’t seem to get over it. Not only is he responsible for the death of the woman he loved, but he sucked the life out of her.
Maybe deep down, he really is the same as his brother. After all, how else could he have done something like that?
“It wasn’t what you think…” Jamie pleads with me when he sees the look on my face. “He… Chas stabbed me in the back. If I didn’t drink, I would have died.” He lifts his eyes to glare at his brother. “You made it so I had no choice.”
“You had a choice,” Hunter says coolly. “You could have bled to death next to the woman you loved.”
Jamie tightens his grip on his cane. I can see his knuckles turning white. “I wanted to live so I could kill you.”
“Yeah? How did that work out for you?”
Jamie and Hunter are glaring at each other. I almost expect the two of them to jump at each other and start wrestling like a couple of wild animals. Except if they did that, I have no
doubt that without the bottle of sulfuric acid, Hunter would get the best of Jamie. Not only does he have a knife, but he’s apparently very well fed, thanks to Sydney. He’s faster, stronger, and he’s got two perfectly functional legs.
“I swear to you, Chas,” Jamie says, his blue eyes growing so dark that it’s almost as if he took out his contacts. “If you do this to Brooke, I will make you pay. If it’s the last thing I do, I will make you suffer. I will make you regret it.”
The knife digs into my throat and I feel a sting of pain. “I don’t think you will, Tom,” Hunter says. “Because if you could, you would have already done it.” He grips me tighter so that I feel like I can barely breathe. “Why don’t you just give in already? You’ve been fighting this for so long. Wouldn’t it feel better to just do what you were born to do?”
“Never,” Jamie hisses. “I will never do that.”
Hunter snorts. “It’s a little late for never, isn’t it, Tom?”
Before Jamie has a chance to respond, we hear it: two loud thumps on the door. I feel a rush of relief—it must be the police. Hunter was wrong—the police aren’t useless, after all. Except then I hear the familiar voice from the other side of the door:
“Brooky! Too loud!”
Jamie and I exchange horrified looks. It’s Mr. Teitelman. He heard all the noise and now he’s here to complain and maybe share a cup of coffee. Except he has no idea what’s on the other side of the door.
Hunter gives me a teeth-rattling shake. “Who’s that?”
“It’s just my downstairs neighbor,” I say quickly. “He’s… he’s just an old man. Don’t worry, he’ll go away.”
There are more knocks on the door. “Brooky!” Mr. Teitelman calls again.
A slow smile spreads across Hunter’s face. “This is perfect. I was worried there wouldn’t be enough to satisfy both of us, but now we won’t have to share.”
“No, Chas.” Jamie steps in front of the door. “You can’t do this. He’s just an old man.”
“Right,” Hunter says. “He’s lived his life. Now he can serve a greater purpose.”
Jamie doesn’t budge.
Love Bites Page 25
