by Michele Hauf
Too late for that, eh?
Yet he wanted her to see him for reasons that baffled. Of course, asking her to believe he was a vampire was out there, even for the smartest and most open-minded of humans.
After shuffling down the stairs, he headed out to his truck—he did have the appointment with the nuns—and smiled to himself. Zen would have a much longer walk than she anticipated.
* * *
He was following her, so Zenia picked up her pace, determined to make it to town before he could stop and once again offer her help. She didn’t need help from a wacked crazy who believed himself a vampire. What role-playing nightmare had he gotten lost in? Didn’t boys generally give up that stuff when they left their teens?
But it was a long walk. And he must be driving five miles an hour. Superobvious follow. Yet when his truck pulled in front of her to make a right turn, and his passenger-side window rolled down, it took all her strength not to rush up to the truck door and see what the handsome man had to say.
Arms crossed and posture stiff, Zenia stood at the road’s gravel edge. The sun was high and she guessed it would be a hot one today. She wondered if her skin burned easily. She didn’t want to make the long trek into town on foot. But she had reached her limit with trusting this guy. Handsome did not win over crazy. Usually.
Maybe?
Blade leaned across the seat and called, “Tangle Lake is in the other direction!”
Zenia steeled herself against turning and looking back the way she’d walked. “I knew that,” she said.
He tilted his head, as if to ask, “Really?”
“Fine.” She marched toward the truck. “You win.”
He popped the door lock open and she stepped up inside, setting her backpack on the floor. The tin circle poked out of the unzipped top.
“What’s that?” he asked with an urgency that again alerted her that this guy wasn’t all there in the head.
She tugged the pack onto her lap and pushed the circle inside, zipping it securely. “It’s mine. Now, would you mind giving me a ride to the big cock? Or whatever it is you called it? And I recall you had mentioned something about helping a couple of nuns. You must have an appointment to get to, so the sooner you drive me into town, the faster we can both be done with each other.”
“The big cock it is.” Blade shifted into gear. He drove a few miles before turning the radio down to a whisper. “It’s called The Red Rooster Inn.”
“Whatever,” she managed with as little interest as possible.
“I gave Beckett Severo a call while I was following you down the road. He’s my sister’s husband. Owns an auto-body shop. He has a sweet little Mini Cooper he can let me buy cheap. He’s going to wash it and give the interior a good cleaning, then he’ll call me when it’s ready. Work for you?”
“What color is it?” she asked, only because she suddenly felt as if he was making all the decisions for her, and she needed to wrangle some control.
“Red?”
“Like a demon’s eyes?”
“Yes, like a demon’s eyes. Believe me, Zen. I’m not making this stuff up.”
“Really? I want to believe you, but...” She sighed and tilted her head against the window. All out of argument. And so desperate for some small grace. “All right. Let me try out belief for a minute. You’re a vampire? With fangs?”
“Got the fangs. I need warm blood to survive. Every few weeks. Though I prefer it more often.”
He winked at her and it was all she could do not to drop her jaw in horror. He’d just confessed to drinking blood! And the truck was going the speed limit. If she opened the door and jumped now, could she get up and walk away as easily as she had after the bus incident?
But deep within, Zenia felt this man meant only good toward her. If he had a strange belief about his origins then she should allow him that. But that allowance should be countered with a healthy dose of caution on her part.
The giant red iron rooster swept by on her right as Blade pulled into the inn’s parking lot. Zen wanted to dash out of the truck and run as far away as possible. She wasn’t about to stay where he knew where to find her.
And yet. It was his kind eyes. And he had given her a huge roll of cash. And made arrangements for her to use a car. Balancing his crazy with his kindness was actually leveling out the scale.
So Zenia said something that surprised herself. “Come in with me.”
“Why?”
“We need to talk.”
He winced.
Yeah, so she’d just given him a standard girlfriend line. Poor guy. But she needed to get on the same page with him.
“I don’t believe you’re so lacking in curiosity that you can simply drive away, are you?”
He considered the subtle challenge. Twisting the key in the ignition, the truck settled to quiet.
After checking in, Zen filed down the narrow hallway with Blade in tow. Her room was small and fashioned with timber furnishings that sported green-and-red-plaid fabric on the chair and bedspread. Sure was a lot of plaid in this neck of the woods, she noted. She tossed the backpack on the bed, directed Blade to make them coffee and excused herself to the bathroom.
The blue-and-yellow dress was loud. She did need to pick up some new things. Something a little less crazy cat lady and a bit more sensual. Because she knew she was attractive, and Blade’s admiring gaze hadn’t gone unnoticed. Nor had his attractiveness gone unnoticed.
She wondered if he would flinch if she tried to touch his soft hair. She sensed that would be his first reaction. And then she wanted to test that theory because pushing him to his unknown boundaries felt important to her. To see if he could stand up to any challenge.
Because if pushed maybe he’d reveal his lies. That perhaps he clung to the fantasy of being a strange creature for reasons that helped him survive in this world. Or maybe it was simply that he watched too many movies. Believed women would go for the brooding vampire act. Ugh.
She tilted her head aside, her reflection tracing a finger down her neck. A vampire. Did he want to bite her? What would that feel like? Orgasmic, her knowledge provided on a whisper. And what was orgasmic? Had she ever had the experience of sex?
She didn’t know. And that frustrated immensely.
She hadn’t learned anything about herself out in the field yesterday. And maybe she had. Demons had been after her? Incredulous. She should have stopped to say goodbye to the old lady.
Why was he making up such an elaborate ruse? For what reason the lie? No, he was being truthful. And to test that theory she’d have to see proof.
“Fangs,” she muttered.
And once he had to confess to a lack of such telling signs of vampirism, then she could move forward. Both of them could.
Nodding once, she turned off the bathroom light and found Blade waiting with two cups of coffee in hand.
“Dark?” she asked.
“As black as I could get it.”
She glanced to the backpack. It was unopened. He hadn’t snooped. Not that she had anything to hide. Just a bunch of stolen charity clothing and that weird tin circle. And her roll of cash. His cash. Yet she didn’t feel as if she owed him for that generous gift. Was it because she couldn’t recall if she was the sort of person who had guilt?
Sitting on the bed, she shuffled closer toward the head by the pillows when Blade sat not three feet from her. Inviting him in may have been a stupid idea. She’d hoped it a means to allow him to confess. Did the victim invite the serial killer in so easily?
“I need some proof,” she said. “That you are what you say you are.”
“Will that make you believe?”
“Of course.” Or it would make him believe. One way or another, this was going to get settled.
“So you are not a woman of faith?”
“I don’t know.” She tapped her head. “Not all there, remember?”
“What kind of proof are you asking for?”
She set the coffee mug on the woo
d bedside table that looked as though it had been carved from an oak stump. “Whatever kind you’re willing to offer.”
She didn’t want him to be crazy. She really did not.
Sliding closer on the bed, she raised her hand to touch his hair, then decided against it. “Fangs?”
“If that’s what you need? I can do that.”
Blade tilted his head back and closed his eyes. And when he rolled his head around, his nose drew along her cheek. Her skin tingled at the barely there touch. It seemed as if he was scenting her. And when the tip of his nose dusted her earlobe she felt her nipples tighten and couldn’t decide whether to delight or be afraid of that feeling. Curling her fingers, she closed her eyes as a mix of anxiety and breathless anticipation stirred in her core.
A sharpness slid along her neck. Zen gasped in a breath. What the—? Blade’s hand grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. His mouth was barely parted, yet bright white fangs jutted over his lower lip.
“Holy... How did you put those in so fast?”
“I didn’t put them in. They are my teeth.” A wide grin revealed his fangs rising to sit even with his upper teeth, and then again, they descended into the long, pointed, gleaming weapons. “You wanted proof.”
“But... That means...” He was telling the truth? That was incredible. Impossible. Freaky. Real? “Oh, mercy.”
Zen raced for the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
After a few seconds a rap sounded on the wood door. “Zen?”
“I’m good!” she called. “Just need a few minutes to process.”
Chapter 6
Zenia leaned forward onto the vanity, peering at her eyes reflected in the mirror. What she saw there was not fear but uncertainty.
“He’s a vampire. Those fangs were real.”
She hissed out a breath and her shoulders sank. The man was really a vampire. Because his teeth had not been fake. No cheesy white plastic dentures. He’d lowered and raised them as she had watched.
So here she stood. Processing. And to do so, had locked herself in the bathroom to put herself away from the creature on the other side of the flimsy wood door. Who could probably knock it down if he wanted to and suck out all her blood before she could manage to scream for help.
She shook her head. “Don’t let your imagination make this into something weird. Weird? Ha! The man is a vampire. Which means the mythology is real. And what makes me think all I know is real anyway?”
Of course, if vampires were real that also opened the door to other creepy critters being as real. Werewolves, ghosts and demons?
“He killed demons. There were real demons in that pink house. He was telling me the truth. And they’d mentioned me? What is going on?”
She’d fallen into some kind of creature feature. And while she should do the smart thing and run like hell, she couldn’t resist a peek down the dark stairway.
“He’s been nice to me so far,” she reasoned with her reflection. “I can trust him.” A nod confirmed her decision.
And so she turned the knob and walked out into the room. Blade leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Head bowed, his hair was tinted blue, no denying that. Was that indicative of his vampire nature?
Wow. Just wow.
“Are you going to bite me?” she asked calmly.
He smirked and shook his head. “No.”
“Why don’t you want to bite me?”
Now he laughed. “In the course of two questions you went from curiosity to fang junkie.”
“Fang junkie?”
“Women and men who seek the vampire’s bite. It gives them an orgasmic high. Sort of a thank-you for giving blood.”
Zen blew out a breath. Shook her head. She’d asked for proof. And he’d given it to her in spades. The guy was a vampire. And the more she considered it, his fangs were actually kind of cool.
She walked up to him. “Let me see them again.”
With a shrug, he opened his mouth to reveal the fangs. She touched the tip of a fang and he flinched away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Women don’t generally touch,” he said defensively.
“I’m sorry. They are interesting to me. Don’t you ever poke yourself in the lip?”
He smirked, again revealing the gorgeous fangs. “I’ve been living with them awhile.”
“Since birth?”
“No, since my teen years. We vamps don’t come into the blood hunger until puberty. A vampire baby is just wrong.”
“I imagine so.” Frowning, Zen ran the idea of a fanged baby drinking blood from its mother’s nipple through her thoughts. Yeah, that was wrong in too many ways to consider. “Wow. So you are really a vampire.”
“And you are having a tough time with this.”
“No. Not anymore. I did some processing in the bathroom. Had a pep talk with my crazy ole self. So the myths are real? And you don’t seem a danger to me.”
“I have no reason to harm you, Zen. Believe me.”
“I am inclined to trust you. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness thus far. Will you tell me about being a vampire? That’ll help me to further process. You said you drink blood every few weeks? Is it a sexual thing?”
“You just ask whatever is on your mind, don’t you?”
“Are you offended by my questions? You should be pleased I’m not screaming and whittling a stake.”
“I am. Although the adrenaline that comes up when a person screams does season the blood nicely.” He paused. Gauging her reaction? Likely.
Zen didn’t feel disgust. She’d accepted that vampires existed. Now she needed to learn how and why.
“And so you know,” he added, “it would take a damn long time to whittle a stake. Use an ax to hone a point on a thick wood dowel. It will go faster.”
“Did you just tell me how to kill you?”
“I did. Feel better?”
“It’s not as though I need to feel better about your condition—”
“It’s not a condition. It is what I am.”
“Okay. I understand. Blood is your means to survival?”
“Yes. I like drinking blood and it is a sensual experience if I’m having sex with the person when I bite them. But I can take someone in a dark club or back alley without it turning me on. My bite leaves the victim in a state of bliss. As I’ve said, a reward for giving blood.”
“Do you ever, uh—” Zen ran her fingers along the plaid bedspread “—kill?”
His fangs retracted, and she missed them immediately. “When drinking blood? No.”
That he’d categorized that question bothered her. “So you have killed at other times? Of course, the demons yesterday.” She had no choice now but to believe they had been real.
He suddenly took her by the wrist and lifted her arm to hold her elbow toward the sunlight beaming through the window. “Those markings are faint but remarkable. Do you know what they mean?”
The man had deftly avoided the question about killing. She’d give him that. He had killed. Many times. She simply knew it. Perhaps he’d been protecting another damsel in distress from demons?
“I’m guessing it was something I drew on my skin before the accident,” she offered. “Should fade away with a few more showers.”
“Has it faded since you’ve noticed it?”
“No. I guess not.”
“It doesn’t look like ink or even one of those white tattoos that are so popular nowadays.”
“Demonic?” she tossed out teasingly. She regretted it immediately. Demons were serious and real. What kind of nightmare had she fallen into?
“I don’t know what it is,” Blade said. “One of my brothers is full faery. He has pale violet markings on his skin. But the patterns don’t look similar. Aren’t you curious?”
“I am, but it’s not as if I have any idea where to begin learning about such a thing. A faery brother? That’s fascinating. How does that work exactly?”
“It’s a long s
tory. My family is a mix of races.”
Nodding, she rubbed the inside of her elbow to distract herself from the need to delve into his family history. He’d been kind in answering her questions so far. She didn’t want to press her luck. “How do I learn more about these markings?”
“There’s a witch in Minneapolis. She might have a clue.”
“Witches. Of course.” And so many other species she would likely learn about the longer she hung around Blade. The idea of gaining such knowledge compelled her. If she couldn’t learn about herself then she may as well gather info about the secret world that existed around her. “You know all the exciting people, eh?”
“Do you want me to take you to her?”
“I sense you are more eager to learn about these markings than I am. Digging up proof I’m not an evil demon?”
“I hate demons,” Blade stated plainly. He paced to the window. His frame stiffened, shoulders tilting back and fingers curling into loose fists. Zen could palpably feel his cool anger. He was a man who didn’t like to speak about himself, but he didn’t have to. His emotions showed in his tightly strung physicality.
“Would you hate me if I were demon?” she asked.
He turned a glance over his shoulder. “I don’t know what to think of you.”
“Well, I think very highly of you, just so you know.”
“Despite my being vampire?”
“Your race or species, or whatever you call it, matters little. It’s you, the man, whom I make my judgment on.”
“Not a lot of people in this world who can be so open-minded.”
Zen smirked. “And look at me, not so much open-minded as absent of some of my mind.”
His smile was an unexpected surprise. “You’ll remember who you are.”
“I hope so.” She sat on the bed. “And then I wonder if it really matters. I don’t know, I guess if I do have a family or job I would like to learn about that. Do you think vampires can get amnesia?”
He lifted a brow.
“They can?”
“There was a vampire who lived in the area, decades ago, who lost his memory. He got it back. We’re very similar to humans, Zen.”
