It never usually required much effort.
“Pay attention in there! If you don’t open this frickin’ door right now, I’ll be forced to pitch the hissy fit of the millennium, and all your rich, fancy neighbors will see me. I’m supposing you wouldn’t much like that, seeing as you well-to-do folk like to keep your business private. So open this dungeon door and open it now. I’ll be fucked and feathered if you think for a split-second I’m going to let you get away with what you’ve done to me. I know you, Gregori. I know your type—species—whatever. Your spooky-kooky paranormal type, that is.” Putting her ear to the heavy door, Nina listened again with her fancy new hearing. A slight stirring came from behind the dark steel and then silence. “I mean it. You do not want to mess with me.”
“Oh, gawd,” Marty mumbled.
Nina narrowed her eyes, lacing her gloved fingers together and cracking her knuckles. “What? What the hell am I supposed to say, Miss Manners? He bit me, and he’s going to fix it.”
Wanda shoved her way out of the bushes with greenery clinging to her lavender, wool scarf and a twig jutting from the top of her head. “Were you raised at a truck stop? God, Nina, would it kill you to at least be courteous?”
Nina tugged at the twig in Wanda’s hair with a hand she couldn’t get to stop trembling and made a face. “Courteous my ass. He bit me, and now I have fangs. What was courteous about that?”
Wanda’s eyes rolled skyward. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Nina. It was an accident. You said so yourself. Why don’t you try to kill him with kindness instead of being such a—a—meanie-butt all the time?”
Nina would’ve replied. In fact, she was preparing to tell Wanda to get off her back, but Wanda’s features, pretty and usually sharply defined, began to swim before her eyes.
The creak of the door startled them all. All but Nina, who felt the ground beneath her shift and give way, as she tumbled backward.
Back into a solid wall that seriously could have been mistaken for brick if not for the fact that when her cheek hit it, it wasn’t brick at all.
It was a yummy hard chest, thinly veiled in a flash of white T-shirt molded against rippling muscle.
And just before she succumbed to the fan-freakin’-tastic-ness of all that brick-shithouse, she thought, there were definitely worse places to crash.
CHAPTER
3
“Drink, Nina,” the dark voice encouraged. A thick liquid, coppery with a salty hint to it, slipped down her throat easier than any apple martini at Phil’s House of Brews and Tattoos ever had. The sweet taste of it settled in her mouth, lingering on her tongue with tangy euphoria. Her lips eagerly sought the cool edge of the cup for more.
“C’mon, drink it all. You’ll feel better,” sinfully husky of voice prompted.
And sure enough, she was feeling better—in a slow, upwardly mobile fashion. A tingle twisted its way along her spine, infusing her with a new rejuvenation.
“Oh, God, Marty. I can’t watch,” she heard Wanda snivel, but it sounded distant and warbled.
Watch what? she wondered, but couldn’t ask for the utter bliss her stomach was experiencing as she gulped whatever the hell was in the cup. It was like an orgasm. It was so close to being better than one, it bordered beating it with a two-by-four. Which again brought to mind—what the frig was Wanda doing watching something so decadent?
“Um, so tell me, Mr. Statleon. Does she always have to do this? I mean, it’s so Bohemian.” Nina heard the disapproval in Marty’s question, but couldn’t quite grasp what she was so disapproving of. Nina couldn’t seem to find a thing wrong with this—whatever this was.
There was a deep chuckle and a shift of big hands beneath her head before the naughty voice somewhere from above answered. “Call me Greg, and if you don’t want her collapsing all over people’s front porches, yeah, I’m afraid she does.”
They were talking about her…and Greg was a perfectly nice name. Kinda hot in a Brady Bunch sorta way—even if Peter had turned out to be the real hottie in the closet.
“But where is she going to get it?” Wanda asked, her tone anxious. In fact, Nina could almost see her worriedly shuffling her feet while folding and unfolding her hands. Wanda always did that when she was nervous.
And it. What was it?
Nina’s eyes popped open with renewed energy. Gazing upward, she lifted her chin to find a pair of very green eyes, fringed with short, dark lashes gazing back. They gleamed with amusement, crinkling at the corners. A square, sharply angled jaw shifted into a semi-smile. His bottom lip, fuller than the top, curved upward in a slow, sensuous movement that she’d score a respectably solid eight-point-five. Wavy hair, the color of milk chocolate, fell to a chin that was chiseled and unrelenting. His skin had a rather eerie sort of pale cast to it, but it didn’t deter from the overall brick-shithouse effect of him.
Her head rested on a pair of hard thighs, definitely male thighs, comforting in all their hardness.
Wow. Niiiice. Very nice place to wake up after an all-nighter. No way did she want to gnaw her own arm off to get out of this little bit of one-night-stand awkwardness. But why the hell were Wanda and Marty in the middle of her getting a good groove on? What kind of sick shit were they into, and how come she’d never been invited to play, too?
“Sleeping Beauty’s up,” the man from above quipped.
Wanda’s and Marty’s faces crowded together, hovering over her. “Ya okay?” Marty’s blue eyes were hesitant, worried.
Okay had many, many variables as far as Nina was concerned. “Um, care to explain?”
Wanda ran her tongue over her lips. “You collapsed.”
She’d collapsed? Oh, yeah…She’d been really, really tired, and all of a sudden, the weariness had seeped into every pore and she couldn’t keep herself from pitching backward. Here was where she must’ve pitched and here wasn’t so bad. At least if her stomach was any indication. “And I’ll presume this is the hunky paramedic who dramatically saved me from the brink of death?” Nina’s question was caustic, but hopeful because there was a vague niggle of something terribly wrong occurring. But how wrong could anything be if it involved the hottie who so carefully held her head in his hands?
Again, she heard the rumble of a chuckle coming from against the side of her head, felt it in every cell of her body. “Hardly.” Those delish lips smiled again.
Marty held out a hand to her. “Are you okay enough to sit up now, Nina?”
Who wanted to sit up when they could cuddle up against this? “I like it where I am, thanks.” And that wasn’t a lie. She was plenty happy to linger.
Wanda’s face distorted with censure. She leaned down, placing her lips near Nina’s ear. “Get up, Nina. Do you want to look like a cheap tart to the nice vampire?”
Vampire.
Right.
How quickly we forget.
Her mortality had been circling like a hungry vulture over a buffalo carcass before she’d passed out. Which meant she wasn’t pleasantly napping on some hot guy’s lap after a naughty-filled romp. She was napping on some hot guy vampire’s lap.
He must be Gregori of the chipped tooth.
Tee-rific.
Sweet Jesus.
Her legs automatically swung to the right, jumping up and away from the comfort of Dracula and falling into Wanda and Marty with wobbly legs. A wave of dizzy, disorienting flashes of color and sound assaulted her. She clung to Wanda for support.
While Wanda righted her, Marty dug in her purse. “Here.” She handed Nina a tissue, casting a look of distaste. “Wipe your mouth.”
Her look of confusion must have said it all. The vampire—oh, my God—the vampire—rose from his seat on the black leather couch and pressed a thumb to the corner of her mouth. “Blood.” He smirked. “You have some on the side of your mouth.”
“Uh, say again?” Nina demanded, taking in the long, lean length of him. He was tall. At least six-foot-two or so. His shoulders were broad, his waist tapered and lean. Legs with mu
scles that flexed beneath his faded jeans moved in her direction.
His smile was filled with amusement. “I said you have blood on the corner of your mouth.” He wet his finger and wiped her lips again for good measure. “There. All better.”
Aha. Blood. “Blood you say?” Nina took an immediate, familiar defensive stance, glaring up at him. The look she sent his way typically left most men either open-mouthed or slinking back off to their corners.
Him? Not so much. His position, from where she stood anyway, was clearly resolute.
He crossed his finely honed arms over his chest, obviously not impressed with her fiercest of looks. As a matter of fact, he appeared rather bored. “Yep.”
“Wanda, Marty?”
“Hmmm?” their voices answered in vague unification.
“You let him give me blood?”
“Him’s name is Greg. My name is Greg,” he offered with one-hundred-watt charm.
“Okay, you let Greg give me blood?”
“Well, yeah,” Marty muttered, as if this was as normal a practice as accepting a bottle of Evian from a stranger after being stranded in the desert. “It really is true. You are a vampire. Greg said it’s just like the Internet says. You have to drink blood to survive now. You fell like a ton of bricks out there, Nina, and it’s because you needed to—to—”
“Feed,” Gregori interjected helpfully, rocking back on his heels and winking.
Marty’s blonde head dipped. “Yes, because you need to feed. It’s also why your fangs were so out of control and you didn’t see his at the dentist’s office. Because you needed to feed and when you don’t get blood regularly, it makes your teeth grow or something like that. Sheesh, and you call us crazy.”
Nina’s hand immediately went to her mouth, sticking a finger into it to find she no longer had incisors to rival elephant tusks. Anger, swift and furious, consumed her. She whirled around to face Marty and Wanda. “Are the two of you fucking out of your minds? You let him give me blood? Blood? From what? From who? What kind of friends are you?” Visions of her swallowing some dead person’s blood like it was a Starbucks caramel cappuccino made her want to yark, but then so did the idea of her once favorite flavored coffee.
Wanda’s hand flew up in Nina’s face to thwart her. “Before you go on one of your infamous rants, it wasn’t like we had a choice, Nina. It’s not like you have a heartbeat anymore, so we couldn’t tell if you were dead. I mean, well, you can’t be dead, because technically you are dead.” She sighed a ragged breath in clear exasperation and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just mean, we didn’t know if you were of this earth anymore. When we explained what happened and how you’d been bitten, Greg here was very helpful. So could you puulease try and at least be appreciative.”
Nina’s face went slack, her jaw dropping to her chest. “Appreciative? You two are bat-shit and so is he.” She thumbed over her shoulder in the mantasy’s general direction. “You’re both acting like this is something that happens every day and I should just get over myself. Screw that already. He’s crazy. This—this is crazy, and I want off the crazy train. Like now.”
Hands, strong and steady, turned her back around. Greg’s green eyes met hers with a flash of what she’d label defiant. “Tell me, do you feel better, Nina?”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. She felt great. Just like she had the power of Greyskull. Very he-man. So-the-fuck-what? This made a difference how? She’d drunk blood, for shit’s sake. Blood! Was no one in the room sane but her? Peeling his fingers from her shoulder one by one, Nina brushed him off. “Look, you nut-job, I don’t know what the hell you did to me the other day at Dr. Berkenstein’s, but you’d better fix it and fix it freaking now.”
He grinned. His white teeth—teeth that didn’t look anything like her fangs—flashed momentarily. Gregori eyed Marty and Wanda. “You weren’t kidding when you said she’s got a potty mouth, were you?”
Nina’s mouth flopped open. “You not only let him give me blood, but you told him my life story? What kind of friends are you?” she shouted.
His dark chocolate eyebrow rose, and it was very clear, her fury left him unimpressed. “Obviously the kind that were willing to do whatever they had to in order to save your big mouth. Now from what I understand, we have some things to talk about. Marty and Wanda told me all about what happened at Dr. Berkenstein’s. I went for a simple filing of my tooth, and I had no idea I’d have that kind of reaction to the anesthesia. It must be the difference between human chemistry and vampire chemistry. I do know a vampire’s teeth can be a very sensitive place to mess with. I ended up in Hackensack because your doctor was the only dentist who’d take me as a walk-in, and he came highly recommended by a friend. However, I don’t remember you or what happened.”
He pointed a finger to his lavish couch. “So why don’t you plunk that cranky butt of yours down, and we’ll see what we can figure out.” His statement was more a command, filled with domineering arrogance, than it was a generous offer to help.
Like anyone ever told her what to do. Nina shook her head vehemently. “I’m not sitting on anything, Batman. You’re going to wave your magic wand—cape, whatever, and you’re going to turn me back into a human, and you’re going to do it pronto.”
“He can’t.” Marty winced after she spoke, obviously knowing Nina would react.
“He better.” No fucking way was she drinking blood to stay alive. Er, not alive. Immortal. Whatever the flip she was now.
Gregori ran a broad hand over his thick head of hair. The gleam of it shone under the soft lighting in his living room. “Your friend is right, Nina. I don’t know the first thing about fixing this. I don’t ever recall, in all the time since I was turned, it needing fixing before you.”
Nina’s stomach spiraled downward, disbelief settling in the pit of it like a boulder. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You bit me, you crazy bastard, and now I’m drinking blood, and I have fangs!”
His face remained calm, impassive. “And I accept full responsibility for that. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to help you adjust.”
Was he a fucking loon? Adjust? Adjust? Oh, no. There would be no adjusting, drinking blood, or reading people’s lunch breath anymore. No can do. Her hands tightened at her sides. “Adjust? Oh, no, brother. I’m not adjusting to anything. Especially the blood drinking part of this shit. I didn’t ask to be a vampire, and you’d better find a way to make it right.”
His eyes glittered, cold and unreadable. “I told your friends, just like I’ll tell you. I can’t change what’s been done. I apologize for what’s happened, but that’s all I have to offer. I’ve never heard of a vampire reverting back to human form. Ever.”
“And that’s it? You just apologize like you did nothing more than accidentally knock me off my Schwinn and your solution is to offer me a Band-Aid? But I have to spend the rest of my life like this?” Nina rocked from foot-to-foot, itching to hurl herself all over his indifferent attitude.
Greg lifted his set of broad shoulders in a shrug. “Er, yeah.”
Oh.
My.
God.
Wanda and Nina were immediately at her side, each clutching one of her arms. “Ninaaaaa, relax,” Wanda cooed. “Take a deep breath. Wait. Sorry. No deep breath because you don’t do that anymore. Damn—”
Nina curled her lips inward, displaying her displeasure, fighting the urge to throw them both across the room.
Wanda bit her lip. “Sorry. I just mean, it won’t do you any good to yell. It never got you anywhere before, and it won’t now. So let’s try to be reasonable and figure this out. Maybe you’ll be just like Marty and learn to like being a vampire. It’s not impossible, you know. Mr.—um, Greg doesn’t seem like he’s all that upset about being one. Are you?” Her eyes swung to him with the question.
“I’ve been this way for a long time.” His response was affable, lighthearted even.
“Really?” Marty smiled at him. “How long?”
His lips
rose in another smirk. “Several centuries.”
Nina flicked Marty on the arm, glaring at her. “Helllloooo in there, you chemically enhanced blondie. This isn’t the sharing is caring circle, Marty! I don’t give a miner’s coal digging ass how long he’s been a vampire. I—did—not—ask—to—be—one! Got that? Now quit fraternizing with the enemy and making more supernatural friends. Help the one you’ve got.”
Greg cocked his head in Marty’s direction. “Supernatural? You’re not vampire.” His response to the idea Marty wasn’t a vampire was confident.
Marty’s face flushed, her lips curving prettily. “Werewolf,” she answered with a flirty giggle that burned Nina’s ears.
Nina exploded. “That’s it! Wanda, meet me in the car. I’m getting the fuck out of here. Marty? When you’re done with your paranormal tea party, join us, would ya?” With that she stomped toward the front door, refusing to acknowledge the beauty of the room with its ornate furnishings and polished floors.
Her hand was just hitting the doorknob when he said, “I wouldn’t run off just yet, Nina.”
His warning sent a cold chill of foreboding along her spine. But she was going to ignore that in favor of getting the hell out of Dodge. “Yeah, well watch the sway of my ass as I do just that. Marty, if I turn around and you aren’t right behind me, I’ll steal your eyelash curler and shred it in the trash compacter.”
The shuffle of shoes followed Nina’s satisfied ears as she swung open the heavy door and hit the pavement with feet she couldn’t seem to keep up with.
Climbing into the car, Nina noted the sun was preparing to set as she slammed the door behind her. With that thought, a calm, peaceful shift began in her chest, replacing the rush of anger she’d experienced over Gregori’s final words. Oh, God. What the frig was she going to do?
Wanda’s door cracked open, and she slid in sighing in defeat.
Marty squeezed into the backseat, jarring Nina’s shoulder and sniffled. Clearly they were displeased with her. Which was just nucking futs as far as she was concerned. Nina’s lips thinned into a line of disapproval.
Accidentally Dead Page 5
