“Yeah.” Adoptive, but I don’t bother to mention it. It’s nothing something I broadcast, and it doesn’t matter to me. They’re my parents, pure and simple.
“You have your mom’s…” He stares at the picture.
I pat his hand. “Let’s go eat.”
The hoagies are delicious even if the creator was a little heavy handed with the oil and vinegar, dripping everywhere. We talk a little about this and that, nothing too important. He had an Italian sub with a ton of garlic, so no more kisses. Shortly thereafter, he has to leave for work.
Loneliness hits me immediately, so badly that I opt to change into workout clothes. I swing by the gym where Samantha works as a personal trainer. She’s up close and personal with a really hunky guy, the one who might be her new boyfriend. I’m not quite sure on that count.
I grab some twenty-fives off the rack and settle in to do some bicep curls.
Sure enough, a guy saunters over, checking me out. Never fails. This is why I have weights at home and why I don’t have a gym membership. Technically, I shouldn’t be working out here. Since the owner has a brother on the police force, he looks the other way when I come in.
“You’re swinging too much,” he says finally.
Actually, I am. Considering I just finished my third and last set of eight reps, a single cheat rep isn’t too terrible.
I ignore him and start on hammer curls.
“You’re going too slow,” he says.
“Going slower means the muscles feel it more. They’re under more tension. The more they burn, the more you—“
“Oh, will you listen to her?” he booms.
His laugh is actually a pleasant one, like a mall Santa would have. Too bad his attitude has me wanting to put these weights down and slug him one right in the eye. He’s muscular, sure, but he’s not ripped. He has a way to go himself.
“Why don’t you listen to me?” I ask coolly. “Grab some weights. Lift as slow as I do.”
He grabs sixty pounders and proceeds to hammer curl with them.
“Slower,” I caution. “Like this.”
He lasts a whole two reps, and I can’t hide my smirk.
“Whatever.” He stomps away angrily, throwing me a terrible glower over his shoulder.
“You always torment the guys? Chop their egos down to size?”
I still and blink. Somehow, none other than Blake Damon sneaked up on me. He’s sitting on a bench not too far away from me.
I eye him warily. Can’t help it. I’m suspicious. Why is he here all of a sudden? What does he want?
“Only if their egos are too big,” I comment critically.
“And you’re the judge of that?”
“Who better?”
He shakes his head. “You’re the one who has a big ego.”
“I just like to bite off a lot.”
“More than you can chew.”
He has a point, I’ll admit.
“At times.” I hate that I sound a little guilty. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“But what you bite off…” Blake stands and shrugs.
“You could help me, you know. Teach me. Give me tips.”
“Not on the agenda. Sorry. Just passing through.”
“That mean…”
He makes a circle with his finger. “You gonna continue working out or just standing around gabbing?”
I glare at him but start to do some overhead triceps extensions. “Does that mean—“
“Maybe.” He grins recklessly. “Maybe not. Maybe I think you can handle them all.”
“After what you witnessed?”
“You brought one down.”
“My last bullet.” I swallow hard. I only have the one for Amarok left. If I can’t take him down tonight…
“Not my problem.”
“So glad you swung by. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
He walks up real close to me.
“Hey. Is this man bothering you?” the guy who can’t hack lifting weights under tempo calls out from halfway across the gym.
“All good. Thanks.” I nod to him and then glare at Blake through the mirror I’m using to watch my form. “You can leave now.”
“Leave Bethlehem? You sure you want me gone?”
“If you won’t help with…”
“That beast.” It comes out a growl. “It’s bad enough other werewolves are here, too.” Blake shudders.
“You met a werewolf you didn’t like, huh? Is that it? Because the one I met—“
“Stay away from them,” he says critically, aggressively.
Geez. Normally, he’s kinda distant. A one-man island of isolation. I’m confused, wondering why he’s all twisted up, but I doubt he’ll tell me.
“I can’t stay away.” I lower my weight and face him. “I’m going to do what I have to protect this city. You know that. Why don’t you—“
“Not my problem.” And he starts to walk away.
I hurry after him. “So only vamps are?” I hiss.
We’ve been talking in whispers this whole time. Yeah, I’m kinda in his face, so this all might look intimate. I don’t realize this until I catch Samantha looking over and winking at me.
“Well?” I demand.
“No,” he says finally. “Not just vampires.”
But does he clarify? Nope. He just walks away and leaves.
Before I can go after him—before I can decide if it’s a good idea for me to—Samantha approaches. “He your doctor?”
“No.”
Samantha blinks with surprise. “Someone else you’re sniffing around?”
“No.” I scowl, disgusted. Blake thinks he’s doing the world a favor by taking out the vamps… and what else? He seems to hold wolves in contempt, but he’s not targeting them.
“Not just vampires,” he said.
So what else is out there?
Maybe I don’t want to know.
Chapter 18
Samantha only has a few minutes to chat, which bums me out, but she can’t put her life on hold for me. Especially when she doesn’t realize that my life might be ending tonight.
To everyone else, it’s just an ordinary day.
To me, it might be my last day.
It’s morbid to think about, but I’ve already accepted it. I’m not worried. I’m not afraid. I’m angry. I’m almost eager.
I’ve always had a little bit of a reckless streak. Maybe I’ve always had a death wish too.
What do I opt to do next?
Go to the shooting range.
There’s something so energizing about shooting rounds. I know it’s not for everyone. To me, it’s therapeutic, a lot more therapeutic than listening to Doctor Harris drone on and on. It’s been a little while since I’ve seen any vamp eyes. Maybe we’re in the clear, especially if Blake Damon really is moving on.
“Should’ve brought him in,” I mumble to myself.
I shoot until my hands cramp. While I have zero issue going to the movies by myself, I hate eating out alone, so I go home and make myself lasagna. My mom’s recipe, which isn’t really a recipe. You just dump all kinds of cheese and sauce and ricotta and the meat together. It turns this awesome pink color. I only half cook the noodles and then layer them, with extra sauce and more cheese on top. More lasagna soup than anything else, I always have to eat it in a bowl. The layers never remain fully formed, not until the next day for leftovers.
Netflix or news? I quickly turn on the news. No new animal attacks… so far.
Will they chalk my death up to an animal attack, too? It’s not like it’s that far off, considering Amarok is part wolf. Part vamp wolf.
What’s next? Don’t even worry about it.
I flip through the channels. A stupid rom-com is on. A single conversation between the guy and the girl would’ve solved the couple’s problem five minutes into the movie. I’m not heavy into romance, in case you can’t tell. I’m ready to turn off the TV when someone knocks on the door.
Gro
aning, carrying my bowl over, I get up from the couch and unlock the door.
Diego stands there, half hidden in the shadows of twilight.
I should leave soon.
“Stalking me?” I joke.
“Not funny.” He scowls. “Wasn’t I just on babysitting duty for you to make sure you’re all right and not attacked again?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. What do you want?” I can’t offer him in. I need to get ready for my date with death. My stomach twists with unease. I’m not really scared. Petrified. Yes, that’s it.
He sniffs. “That smells delicious.”
I sigh and open the door wide. “Come in. Help yourself.”
“Awesome.” He strolls right to my kitchen. When he sits beside me on the couch, my eyes widen.
“Guess there won’t be any leftovers.”
Diego laughs. “Trust me. You made enough to feed a small army.”
“You are a small army,” I grumble.
He pats his flat stomach. It’s been ages since I last saw him without a shirt one—a bunch of us went to the Jersey shore one summer. Diego has a six-pack, an impressive one, yet all he does is eat. My stomach is flat, but I don’t have abs despite all of my working out. Abs are made in the kitchen, that’s for sure. Either I’m not eating enough or I’m not eating the healthiest. I can’t seem to get my diet on track lately.
Should I get more? It’s so good. And it’s my last meal.
Yes.
I help myself to a healthy second portion and rejoin Diego on the couch.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Back on babysitting duty.” He licks his lips. “When did you become such a good cook?”
“I don’t need—“
“Look at you,” he says, suddenly serious. “Vampires went after you again, didn’t they?”
I glance away.
He places his bowl on the coffee table and cups my chin, gently forcing me to look at him. “I’m worried about you.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Against drug dealers? Sure. Petty criminals? Yeah. But we’re talking vampires, Clarissa. We only have a limited number of bullets left and—“
“Do you have more?” I ask eagerly.
“On me?” His lips twist into a deep scowl, and he mutters something in Spanish.
“What was that? I didn’t catch it,” I ask innocently, knowing from his body language he’d been cursing me out.
“Yeah, I have more. That’s why I came over.”
“To give me some?” I brighten considerably.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m putting my bowl down next to his and embracing him. Surprisingly, he doesn’t return the hug. Considering how he’s been around me lately, that’s saying something. Something not good.
“On one condition,” he adds critically.
Uh oh.
“Let’s hear it,” I say as lightly as I can even though I’m super anxious now, on pins and needles.
“You tell me what’s going on,” he says, disapproval and irritation in his words. It’s like he knows already that I’m gonna hedge the truth.
Which I do.
“You know the drill,” I say airily, waving a hand around. “Vamps are a threat. We’re tasked with taking them out.”
“Actually, we’re supposed to bring them in alive if we can,” he says.
I hold out my hand eagerly. “Silver bullets, please.”
Diego shakes his head. His brown eyes look black, the pupil disappearing. “There’s something else going on. I know it. Until you tell me…”
“If you think preventing me from having silver bullets is going to stop me, you really need to think again.”
“You’re impossible,” he grumbles.
“Hey, I haven’t died yet.”
“Yet is the key word.” He leans forward, staring at me.
I hitch my breathing. He’s not going to kiss me, is he? A peck on the cheek might be all right, but nothing more. I don’t want him to kiss me. It would be weird. And wrong. And—
He touches my hair. “Got some cheese there.”
My exhale is exasperated. “Diego, seriously, there’s no reason for you to be so uptight. Just give me the bullets.”
“Maybe I’m uptight because you are,” he retorts. “You’re doing it again. Have you discovered a vampire nest or something? Want to lure them out again?”
“Nothing like that,” I say honestly. “I swear.”
Diego clenches his teeth. “Fine. But if you want the bullets, you’re taking me wherever you’re going tonight.”
“Tonight?” I bat my eyelashes. “Gonna spend it over at my man’s.”
He blinks a few times, not in surprise, clearly unimpressed. “You can’t lie to me, Tempest.”
“What do you mean?” I scowl, growing annoyed.
“Your man’s? Come on.”
I glower at him. “You know I’m dating—”
“The doc. Yeah, yeah. But calling him your man? That’s not you.” He scoffs critically.
“And how would you know?” I ask, heated. “You don’t know me, Diego.”
“I think I know you better than you care to admit.”
“You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
“You’re confusing me with your partner. Angelo is the one who screwed things up with his wife. He cared too much about himself.”
“He’s a flirt and maybe an adulterer. You’re just as big of a flirt—“
“I’ve never once cheated on any woman I dated, and I haven’t gone out with any woman in some time now.”
“Why is that?” I ask, confused.
Because he’s telling the truth. Normally, Diego is always talking about how hot the woman he’s dating is. Shockingly, it’s been maybe two or three months since he’s mentioned one.
“Come on now. You know why.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, grinning recklessly, but the look in his eyes is way too serious for Diego.
“Nuh uh. You’re crazy.” I shake my head and do my best to suppress a grin. My anger has copped a disappearance. I’m not even a little irritated anymore.
“What? You’d never date an officer?”
“Never.”
“Never say never.”
“Go away, Diego. And I’ll call Dean whatever I want.”
“Sure, sure.” Diego laughs.
“What? You can call women chicks and hot stuff and—“
“I’ve never called one hot stuff,” he protests.
I roll my eyes, stand, hands on hip. “But it’s wrong for me to call him my man?”
“It is wrong, and I’ll tell you why.”
Diego stands, too, far too close to me for my liking. The coffee table is in the way, and I can’t retreat.
“Too much is going on right now,” he adds. “Too much for us to handle. You can’t confide in him, and it’s going to eat away at you. Why do you think I’ve stopped dating those girls?”
“Because they were silly airheads who just wanted you for your uniform?”
“Because the job’s getting to me. I can’t stop myself from bringing it home. It’s depressing and—“
“They can’t take the pain away?” I try to sound teasing, but it comes out more mocking. What is it with me and him lately? He’s getting under my skin all right.
“We need someone we can talk to. Someone who has lived through it. We need each other—“
“Like we need a vamp to bite our necks.” I shake my head. “You can keep the bullets if you want. Doesn’t matter to me. And you can date the silly airheads or not. Doesn’t matter to me. I just need…”
“What do you need?” he asks quietly. He doesn’t move any closer to me, but I feel so crowded, so overwhelmed.
I close my eyes. “I don’t know.”
The sound of metal hitting my coffee table sounds, soft footsteps on the carpet away from me and then back. Arms wrap around me, he kisses my forehead, and then he walks away, closing the door beh
ind him.
My eyes open. He’s left me six rounds of silver bullets. For a moment, I stand there, staring at their perfection.
To some extent, Diego’s right. I’m not sure that Dean and I will work out in the long run. The whole “my man” comment had only been made to set Diego off. He’s right. It’s not my style to call anyone mine. That’s just not me.
Why is he bothering me so much right now? He doesn’t really care for me. He can’t. He’s too much of a flirt. Guys like him, they don’t settle down.
And me? Is that what I want? To settle down? I’m lonely, especially lately since it’s still close yet to the anniversary of my parents’ murder. Is that a good enough reason to start dating someone? Especially when I consider that vamps are real. Plus I don’t have a way to tell him about the danger or to keep him safe.
Actually, I do. The perfume vial Blake Damon gave me. “Mixed oil,” he calmly explained, “with rosemary, peppermints, and cinnamon. It’s a vampire repellent. Sometimes, I’ll add clove instead of the peppermints.”
Ugh. Is it too much to ask that vamps just leave Bethlehem alone? That Amarok move on?
But is that fair? Now that I know vamps are real, shouldn’t I be doing everything I can to take them down?
And what? Become a vamp hunter like Blake? That’s not how a cop works. You stick to your city. You protect your people.
But Allentown, Easton, Hellertown… so many nearby cities and towns could become the next den for the vamps we’re chasing out of here. It’s hardly fair to the cops there, considering they don’t have a clue about vamps.
Or do they? The lieutenant and Rex have been having so many meetings I’m not privy to. Maybe they are spreading the word, and I just don’t know it. I hate wondering if I’m isolated, out of the loop. Considering the role I had in discovering the existence of vampires, I deserve to know what’s going on. It’s only with great reluctance and a lot of disgust that I can accept my role as a powerless underling.
I pick up one of the bullets. So sleek and perfect. The silver glints and glitters. How many bullets does Diego have? Not many, I’m sure. Can this be his entire stash?
He’s looking out for me. I do appreciate it. He’ll always have my back, and I’ll always have his. Somehow, it’s different between us than it had been for Travis and me. I don’t want to let Diego in. If I do, that means there’s no escaping the darkness brewing around us, the darkness consuming Bethlehem.
When Wolves Howl: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 2) Page 12
