Tempted by Blood

by Laurie London

  Warily, he eyed the small jar of little dark green things that she was opening. Those weren’t fish eggs, were they? “I’m not really a gourmet kind of guy.”

  “I know, I figured that out already. But trust me. I think you’ll like this.”

  In a few minutes, chicken was cooking in a pan and Arianna was squeezing lemons into a glass measuring cup.

  “Okay,” she said, picking out a seed. “So tell me about Krystal with a K.”

  “It happened when—”

  “Why are you talking about me?” Krystal walked into the kitchen and smiled at Jackson. “So you stayed after all. What are you making, Ari?”

  “Chicken piccata.”

  “Huh?” Jackson and Krystal said in unison.

  “It’s basically lemon chicken with capers.” Arianna sprinkled a few of them into the sauce.

  “What are capers?” Krystal asked, eyeing the pan with a look of disgust on her face. Yeah, he wanted to know, too. They looked…weird. And in his world, weird and food didn’t go together.

  “They’re these little salty things,” she said, shaking the jar. “It’s like a flavor explosion in your mouth.”

  “Don’t tell me they’re fish eggs,” Jackson said, holding up his hands in a mock protest. “Because I can guaran-damn-tee you that I won’t be eating them.”

  “Gross,” Krystal said, sticking out her tongue. “I am definitely not eating them.”

  Arianna rolled her eyes as she grabbed a bottle of ranch dressing from the refrigerator. “You two are pathetic. Technically, they’re caper berries, tiny little flower buds that have been brined like pickles. Not fish eggs. It’s nothing gross and they add a lot of flavor. But if you don’t like them, you can easily pick them out.”

  Jackson studied them skeptically, then looked at Krystal. “I’ll try it if you will.”

  The girl looked as if she’d just bitten into a lemon. “You will?”

  “Yeah, in fact, if you want, I’ll try the dish first and let you know how it is. I’ll give you the eatability rating.”

  “Gee, thanks, you two, for the vote of confidence. As if I’d make something inedible.”

  “It’s just that I’m not used to eating fancy sh—stuff,” he corrected himself before Arianna had a chance to give him the evil eye for cussing.

  “Nice,” Krystal said to him. As she left the kitchen, she turned to Arianna and added, “I like how this one thinks.”

  This one? Jackson stared at Arianna, but she didn’t appear to be fazed by Krystal’s remark. She was sprinkling the chicken dish with salt now. How often did she cook for other men? Was this a normal thing for her to invite guys she hardly knew into her house then whip up a meal? Well, she didn’t exactly invite him…and he wasn’t exactly a normal guy. But here he’d been feeling kind of special that she was fixing him dinner, when in fact, he wasn’t.

  At some point, she’d grabbed her hair and secured most of it into a low ponytail off to one side. Several strands dangled free, brushing her face as she worked. One of her T-shirt sleeves was partially rolled up, but the other wasn’t. Her curve-hugging jeans had several holes that were probably made from wear, not from a machine in a factory. Her nose turned up a little at the end, and if he were a betting man, he’d guess she hated that. He, on the other hand, found it charming, almost impish. He was used to women who fussed over themselves, trying to make every little thing perfect and going under the knife when they could, which was why he found these imperfections of hers strangely compelling.

  From this angle, he could see she had a smudge of something on her cheek. Flour, maybe, from the chicken? Without thinking, he reached over and rubbed it off.

  There was that powerful zing of electricity rushing up his arm again. He quickly pulled his hand away. “Sh—oops. I’m sorry. It’s the energy thing. It’s usually not this strong, though.” He vowed not to touch her again until it came time to wipe her memory.

  “No,” she said softly, touching her cheek where his fingers had been. She paused, looked up at him with those whiskey-colored eyes. “It’s…nice.”

  His heart thundered in his chest. Her lashes were so thick and dark that the overhead light cast lash-shaped shadows on her cheeks. He wanted to stroke the pads of his fingers over her skin again, get lost in those eyes, kiss her pouty mouth. He’d seen her sampling the sauce a few times. Would she taste of lemon and herbs?

  A sound from Krystal in the other room broke the spell. Arianna cleared her throat and turned back to the stove. Then, before he knew what was happening, he felt a hand on his shoulder and she was holding a fork up to his mouth.

  “Can you taste this for me and tell me if it’s seasoned enough?”

  It didn’t even cross his mind to tell her no. He opened his mouth for her and she slipped the bite inside.

  “What do you think?” she asked, sliding the fork out. “Is it too bland?”

  Wow. She was right. Those little non-fish-egg things did give the dish an explosion of flavor. A very delicious one. “It’s not bland at all. I think it’s perfect. Don’t you think so?”

  “I haven’t tried the chicken yet. Just the sauce.”

  Without a word, he took the fork from her, taking care not to touch her skin, and cut a small piece of meat from the pan. As he held it up, she slowly flicked her tongue over her lips, then took the bite from him.

  Holy fuck. That little move went straight to his groin. She made a little moan of pleasure as she chewed. His shaft thickened until it strained painfully behind his zipper, but he didn’t want to move and spoil the moment.

  If they rolled around in the sack together, would she close her eyes like this in ecstasy? Rather than bury his face in her hair as he made that first hard thrust, he’d want to watch just to see if she did or not. Would it be the same as this? No, he decided, he wouldn’t want that. This look and that little sound, while very lovely, were much too tame.

  If he were to have sex with her, he’d want the sensation to warrant a much stronger reaction from her. Fingers digging into his buttocks. Nails gouging parallel tracks in his back. Words like Oh, my God spilling from her lips before he was even completely inside.

  What the hell was he thinking? Arianna was not the kind of woman who dated men with metal studs in their johnsons. For that matter, she wasn’t the kind of woman who dated vampires, either.

  He turned away and grabbed the salad bowl, instead.

  She was a human who knew what he was. For a woman to have sex with a man, there had to be a certain element of trust, because in essence, she was inviting him in when she was the most vulnerable. It wasn’t that he’d never been with a human female before—he’d been with countless of them—he’d just never been with one who knew what he was.

  Besides, she wasn’t his type. She wasn’t flashy or easy or shallow.

  AS ARIANNA WATCHED JACKSON drying the dishes, she was struck by how bizarrely ordinary this evening had turned out to be. She’d cooked for him and he’d told stories that had made both her and Krystal laugh. Here in her kitchen, he looked both out of place and—she had to admit—completely gorgeous at the same time.

  Which really pissed her off. It meant she was affected by his charming ways. She really should fortify herself, insulate her libido from what she knew was trouble. She knew his type only too well. Next thing she knew, he’d be sweet-talking his way into her pants just to add another check in his yes column.

  But damn, he was good. She hadn’t asked him for his help. He’d just stepped in and started doing what needed to be done to clean up the mess she’d created.

  “Thanks for the good dinner, Ari. I liked those little caper thingies.” Krystal tossed the dish towel on the counter and headed back to her room.

  “Yes, I agree,” Jackson said, putting the last of the gl
asses away. “It was surprisingly good.”

  “And I’m surprisingly happy about that.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a mess when you cook?”

  “Artistry in the kitchen shouldn’t be constrained by tidiness.”

  He laughed.

  “Besides,” she continued, “neatness makes me think that something’s as good as it’s going to get. I’m a dreamer and believe things can always be better.”

  “That’s an interesting way to look at things. Either that, or a damn good excuse.”

  “Can I get you another glass of wine? Especially considering that you’ve still got a lot of talking to do?”

  With her cousin at the dinner table, Arianna had silently told him not to say anything. Instead, Jackson had laughed at all of Krystal’s crazy antics, much like an attentive older brother would act toward his kid sister, and Krystal had soaked up the attention like a dry sponge. Arianna liked seeing the girl have so much fun. Since she’d moved in, she’d been trying so hard to impress Arianna, wanting to be perfect. It was refreshing to see her relax and be a normal teenager for a change.

  “Wine? Um, sure.”

  She noticed the hesitation. Maybe he didn’t care for the stuff and he’d just been polite during dinner. “I’ve got some Patrón in the cupboard, too. That, and some ginger ale. Or there might be a bottle of margarita mix around here somewhere.”

  “Definitely the tequila. Straight up.”

  After he was comfortably situated on the couch, glass in hand, she turned to him. “Third time’s a charm.”

  “Huh?”

  “Krystal with a K. Remember? I’ve asked about it three times already and I’m still waiting for an answer.”

  She knew he wasn’t eager to tell her, but this was the deal they’d made.

  “Oh…that.” He knocked back the tequila in one gulp. “Yes, we did meet before. Six weeks ago I rescued her from Darkbloods.”

  Coinciding perfectly with Krystal’s disappearance.

  It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Words and thoughts jumbled in her head, but she didn’t know if she’d said anything aloud.

  Jackson continued, “She and I talked back then…although she doesn’t remember, of course. I’ve…ah…tried to keep tabs on her since then, but obviously, I didn’t watch her closely enough.”

  “What happened?” she managed to ask.

  “Since the beginning is the best place to start, tell me what you know, and I’ll help fill in the blanks.”

  All right. If that’s the way he wants it.

  Arianna took a deep breath. “Shortly after moving in with me, Krystal met some other kids who were in the same self-study program she’s doing. They decided to get together at the downtown library and study for an upcoming project. Since I was working a little late, anyway, we planned to meet up, get a bite to eat, then head home together. But she never showed. I checked everywhere. The library. The nearby coffee shops. Then I thought that maybe she’d taken the bus back or something, but when I got home, she wasn’t here. All my calls and texts went unanswered.”

  “You must’ve freaked out.” Jackson shifted and his leg almost touched hers.

  “Totally. And the police weren’t much help. Said she probably ran away, given her unstable home life, maybe got into the drug scene. I put fliers everywhere. Then she showed up a few days later.”

  “That was me. I brought her back here after everything was over.”

  “Thank you for that, for bringing my cousin safely back. She said she couldn’t remember where she’d been, and part of me wondered if they had been right. It’s not like she had the best examples back home. She slept the next day and when she finally got up, she was light-headed and starving. That’s all I know. In a few days, she was back to her old self and things went back to normal…except for me. I couldn’t forget.”

  “Did you report it on your blog?”

  “Yes and no. I didn’t want people to know that she was my cousin, so I treated her disappearance as if I were covering any other story.”

  “I never considered the people left behind before and what they…you…must’ve gone through.”

  He went on to explain how Darkbloods had kidnapped Krystal for entertainment at a big gathering. “Guardians caught wind of it and stormed the place. That’s when I came across a group of sweetblood humans waiting to…ah…go out in front of the crowd. Krystal was one of them. She reminded me so much of my younger sister that night.” His eyes had a faraway look.

  She wanted to ask him about his sister, but first, Krystal. “The crowd?” Just that made her shiver. “What were they going to do to her? Or do I even want to know?”

  “I’d rather leave out the details, but I’ll tell you if you want me to.”

  She was touched by his protective gesture. “These Darkbloods…who are they?”

  “There are those among our kind who believe we should go back to the days when our ancestors fed from and killed humans. The Darkblood Alliance is an organized group whose goal is to advance and promote that agenda. They try to get new recruits and sympathizers among the civilized vampire population. The organization I’m involved with tries to make sure that doesn’t happen. Krystal’s blood would command a high price on the vampire black market, so she’s very valuable to them.”

  “And you’re going to make sure I have no memory of the danger she’s in, basically leaving her totally vulnerable to Darkbloods again?”

  He couldn’t meet her gaze. “I’ll do what I can to keep tabs on the two of you. We’ve got her in our database of known sweetbloods in the area.”

  “Yeah, and look what good that did.”

  His expression darkened, his jaw muscle ticked. Abruptly, he stood and paced to the far side of the room.

  “You mentioned your sister. Where does she live?”

  “She died,” he said flatly. “A long time ago.” His back was to her, so she couldn’t see his face.

  “I’m…I’m sorry. You said Krystal reminds you of her?”

  “Yes.”

  “How so?” Maybe if she kept prodding, he’d cave. She wanted to know more about this man.

  He walked over to a side window and peered out into the darkness. She had the feeling he wasn’t really looking at anything in particular…just thinking.

  “You know,” he said quietly, “you really should put blinds up on this one, too.”

  She didn’t reply, just waited.

  Finally, he turned back around and faced her. “My sister, Betsy, was right around Krystal’s age when she died. It was my fault. I was two years older than her when it happened.”

  “How was it your fault? You were just kids.”

  “It…just was.”

  She could tell he wanted to talk about it, but he just didn’t know where to start, so she tried the tactics that he’d used on her. Starting from the beginning. “How long ago did it happen?”

  “Neither of us had gone through our Time of Change yet, so we were still able to go out into the sunlight without it making us sick.”

  “And when was that?”

  “A very long time ago.” He stood with his body still partially facing her, his toe angled out, his hands in his back pockets, not crossed in front of his body. He hadn’t closed her off yet.

  “So, when you were kids, you were together, out in the daylight, when something happened?” she asked, rephrasing what he’d told her to encourage him to continue.

  “Yes. We were vacationing at a resort on the edge of a small lake. Our parents forbade us from going out in the rowboats during the daylight hours because if something were to happen to us, they wouldn’t be able to help us. But I didn’t listen. I wanted to row the boat over to the ot
her side of the lake.”

  “What was over there?”

  “A country store. We’d sneak over there to buy candy.”

  She nodded for him to continue.

  “Betsy pleaded with me not to go and I told her she was being a baby. I don’t think she liked that, because just as I was pushing the boat away from the dock, she jumped aboard. Out in the middle of the lake, we were horsing around and before I knew it, Betsy had fallen in. I tried to save her, but I couldn’t reach her. She just kept slipping deeper and deeper into the depths of the lake until I couldn’t see her any longer. She had expected me to save her. I still remember that look on her face. But I wasn’t able to get to her. The current took her away and we never saw her again.”

  He turned away from her.

  “You know it wasn’t your fault, don’t you? Sometimes bad things just happen, even to the most wonderful people. Ones we can’t imagine living without. In fact, if you—”

  “Shh.” He held up a hand, interrupting her. Then he tilted his head to the side as if he was listening to something.

  She couldn’t hear anything.

  In a flash, he was right next to her, whispering into her ear. “Darkbloods. Circling the house. Two, maybe three of them.”

  Her heart slammed into her throat.

  “Do you have an interior room with no windows?”

  “No. Just the closets.”

  He whisked her toward Krystal’s room, thrusting a curved blade into her hand. Her cousin jumped to her feet when they came through the door, but said nothing when she saw his finger up to his lips.

  “Both of you, in here,” he whispered, pointing to the closet. “If someone tries to come in, you need to use this on them. One stab with this silver blade will weaken them, slow them down at least.”

  “Then what do we do?” Arianna asked as she opened the closet’s louvered door and pointed for Krystal to get inside.

  “Run.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE TEN OR FIFTEEN MINUTES they spent huddled in the closet seemed like a lifetime. Unsure whether Krystal would stay quiet if she told her the truth about what was happening, Arianna explained that Jackson suspected the gang members from the fight the other night had found them. Her cousin seemed to accept that explanation as well as could be expected, but it was probably just temporarily. If they got out of this alive, she’d need answers.