by Dannika Dark
John raked his fingers through his black hair. His biceps flexed, and Wyatt wondered what a guy like that had done in his past life. Was he a human or Breed? Curiosity killed the cat, so he decided not to ask. The last thing he wanted to do was explain to a deceased human that Vampires were real. Sometimes the sanity bubble on the dead was paper thin.
“I need to stay in one room,” John said decidedly.
Wyatt laughed. “Well it’s not going to be my room.”
“This room will do. It’s a big fucking house. If I walk too much, I’m going to get lost again.”
And he didn’t mean geographically lost. Specters found sanity in things that were familiar, so that was why they attached themselves to places and people.
“I can deal with that.”
John nodded. “I’ll work on clearing out the house. They won’t come back; you have my word on that. When I’m done, come find me and we’ll talk about the murder. I need every detail you’ve got.”
Man, this guy is going to be a pain in the ass. Wyatt was already regretting their arrangement. John was a savvy negotiator who had just bought himself more time, and a smart ghost was more trouble than a dumb one. If Viktor couldn’t find a Gravewalker experienced with extracting ghosts from physical locations, then Wyatt might be looking at his new best friend for the next three centuries.
Wyatt glanced up at the ceiling where the previous specter had made his dramatic exit. On the other hand, it might be worth making a deal just to get rid of some of the ghosts who’d been keeping him up at night and invading his private time.
And every man needs private time.
“Okeydokey,” Wyatt said. “You’ve got a deal. Just remember what I said about helping out with the case. Quid pro quo and all that. Start retracing your steps. Focus hard. Maybe later on I can help you figure out who you are. And keep out of the girls’ rooms. They can’t see you, but if I catch you—”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m dead, not a pervert.” He chuckled softly before his amused expression gave way to a doleful one.
Wyatt backed up toward the door. “Well, there are eleven of you wandering around the property.”
“Twelve,” the ghost countered.
“I think I’d know.”
John arched a brow. “Oh, really? You haven’t said boo about the guy who’s been sitting in your chair the past five minutes.”
Wyatt inspected the chair and then looked around the room. After a moment, he raised his hand. “You know what? I don’t want to know. I need to talk to my housemates and then get some shut-eye. My room is off-limits. Don’t even think about poking your head in there.”
John belted out a laugh that rumbled in his chest. “Believe me, there’s nothing in your bedroom I wanna see.”
Chapter 6
“I’d like to order onion rings for my buddy,” I said, intoxicated and seeing two waitresses instead of one.
“You got it.” The redhead swung her thick hips as she left the table, and Christian took notice with a lingering glance.
“And make them an extra large!” Christian sat back in his chair, a condescending smirk on his scruffy little face. “My friend’s picking up the tab.”
I snorted and finished my shot. “That’s what you think.”
In a smoky Breed bar on the seedy side of town, Christian and I were settling our bet. We’d left everyone at home since we didn’t need the distraction, and I’d spent the past several hours attempting to bond with the mysterious Christian Poe.
A stout man with a boisterous laugh pointed at me from the bar. “Nice hat.”
I stroked the fur on my trapper hat and gave him an impish grin.
“What’s on your mind?” Christian asked, squinting at me. “You have that look about you.”
“What look?”
He finished his drink and waved for another. “Feck if I know. The look that all women have, like you’re plotting.”
I stared at his empty glass, my eyes glazed. “Do you think ghosts are real?”
Christian leaned in so close that his breath warmed my cheek. “If they are, then I bet there’s a line to get into your shower.”
I pinched his beard. “Don’t you wish you were dead?”
He chuckled darkly and tipped the brim of his blue fedora as he sat back. The feather danced when the waitress briskly walked around him and set drinks and fresh onion rings on the table. She collected the empty glasses, a small pendant swinging to and away from her cleavage.
“You’re lovely,” he said to her with a cocksure grin.
She flicked a glance at his hat and chortled. “That’s what my mate seems to think. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“How about a lobotomy,” he muttered.
Christian had been on the receiving end of insulting remarks from the moment he waltzed into the bar wearing that ridiculous hat. He shrugged it off at first, pretending that none of it bothered him, but a few hours of public taunting was chipping away at his pride. I received a few hunting jokes and decided this was going to be the easiest bet I’d ever won. God knows I’d been called a lot worse than a beaver trapper. But once the drinks started flowing, I began to get hot. All I wanted to do was strip off every article of restrictive clothing I had on, starting with the fur-lined hat.
“And now what are you thinking?” he asked, plunging his finger in the hole of an onion ring. “Inquiring minds want to know.”
I swirled my onion ring in ketchup and took a big bite, crumbs sticking to my lips. “I was just thinking how there’s no better feeling in the world than taking off a bra.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
I smothered a laugh. “I never thought when we met that we’d be having drinks together. I wanted to kill you.”
He gave me a crooked smile. “As I recall, you wanted my onion rings.”
My mind drifted back to when he’d pulled me against him, and a shiver ran down my spine. He held my gaze as if he could read my mind, but his eyes were glazed over from all the alcohol, and something else was flickering in their depths.
“What did you think of me when we first met?”
Christian lifted his glass and held it to his lips. “Cailín álainn.”
“What’s that mean?”
He grimaced after he took a drink and then set down his glass. “Trouble.”
I didn’t speak Gaelic, but something in the way he averted his eyes told me that wasn’t the truth. “I’m not fishing for compliments,” I said. “I’m just curious what Breed men really think of someone like me. Back then I was a scavenger and on the hunt.”
“Aye, in that black dress of death.”
“Right. But now that I’ve cleaned up my act, how do I stack up against all these women? Be honest.”
I normally kept questions like that to myself, but alcohol has a way of lubricating the tongue. Surrounded by all these beautiful women, I began to pay more attention to silly things I’d never cared about before. Like my black nail polish and the way I straddled a chair instead of crossing my legs like a lady.
Christian leaned in, and his face softened. “Not one of them can hold a candle to the way you palm a dagger.”
Sarcasm was my first thought, but something about the way he narrowed his eyes as if speaking the truth made me wonder. Even stranger was how I felt about it. Having him compliment my skills was more attractive than had he paid notice to my breasts or lips.
You’re drunk, I thought with disdain. What’s wrong with you? A little booze, and you’re already falling back into your old ways.
I’d spied on Christian numerous times while walking the roof in the late evening. Like me, he didn’t sleep, though sometimes he went to his room and stayed in there for a long time. I’d spy him across the courtyard pacing the halls, occasionally stopping and looking out the window. I was certain he couldn’t hear me through walls at that distance, and I always stayed hidden. Sometimes he’d run into Shepherd for a chat, but not for long. Christia
n distanced himself from the team. Not completely, but enough that I noticed.
A man bumped my chair as he weaved behind me.
Christian’s black eyes rose, and he stood up. I expected him to sway, but he stood so still that it gave me the willies. The alcohol was affecting me a lot more than it was him, and that made me realize I needed to up my game.
He patted the top of his hat and seated himself. “Perhaps we need another round of drinks.”
Or a strong gust of wind, I thought to myself. My God, I’m going to lose this bet.
I circled my finger around my glass. “Think you can pick up a woman with that hat on?”
The dare dangled in front of his face like a carrot. Christian was the one who’d chosen a crowded place to have drinks. Bartenders were manning their stations, the tables were full, and several people who lost their inhibitions during the Civil War were dancing in an open space at the back. The music was loud, the atmosphere charged, and everyone was scoping out the competition. Since the men outnumbered the women, Christian would have to work twice as hard.
Take the bait. I can’t last much longer.
He lifted his glass, never removing his eyes from mine, and knocked back his drink.
I pointed my finger. “And you can’t use your charming magic. That’s cheating, and you’ll be disqualified.”
My hope was that the woman would make a snarky comment about his hat. Vanity would get the best of him, and he’d take it off. I was confident that Christian would choose sex over money.
“You’re on, lass. But it goes both ways.” He tried to stifle a laugh and failed miserably. “I want to see what kind of eejit would dance with a woman wearing such a ferocious hat.”
“You first. I get to pick the woman, and I pick her.”
I brazenly pointed across the bar at a goddess who had a heavenly glow around her.
Or maybe it was the spotlights on the ceiling.
Several men had been swarming her all evening, admiring the dress that made her look like an hourglass fashioned from pixie dust. The V-neck stretched down to her navel, probably held on with industrial-strength glue. What was it about blondes that always attracted men? Her large curls, reminiscent of a pinup model, caressed her shoulders. I glanced down at my jeans and red tank top. I had decent breasts—they just weren’t spilling out of my clothes. My legs were long, but I didn’t need to show everyone by wearing a napkin around my waist.
Why was casual not sexy?
Christian watched her reapply her blood-red lipstick. “While I’m getting lucky, why don’t you order some steak and lobster?”
“If you think you can afford it.”
He stood up and swayed for a moment before placing his palms on the table and looking me square in the eye. “If I have to give her an Aussie kiss with my hat on, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Aussie kiss?”
He grinned, the tips of his fangs giving me a preview. “It’s like a French kiss… only down under.”
A flush of heat rolled over me as I stared at his mouth. I scooted back and ate another onion ring. “Quit stalling and demonstrate your skills, pimp daddy.”
“You still don’t believe I can bed a woman without using my gift.” He regarded me for a moment. “You could have picked any woman in this bar, but you chose the shark over there who turns everyone down. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this has nothing to do with our bet.”
“Watch out for the dingo while you’re down under.”
He pulled up my eyelid. “You’re langered.”
“I’m fit enough to drive.”
He stood up. “No one drives my bike.”
“I spent my whole life on a bike. I know a thing or two about a thing or two.”
“Aye, but you can’t even count the onion rings on the table.”
“You’re drunk,” I pointed out, resting my cheek against my fist.
“You make an excellent point. There’s a hotel just across the street. If I’m not back at the table in five minutes, you’ll know where to find us.”
He left the remark hanging in the air and stalked off. This bonding with my partner idea was starting to come with feelings of resentment. Our conversations had been superficial, and I still didn’t feel like I knew anything about the man who was supposed to have my back. Despite all the alcohol, he was deliberately closing himself off from me.
Christian approached the blonde, who was standing against the wall beneath a spotlight that made her dress sparkle. I’d watched her reject one man right after the next. Maybe she was looking for a certain Breed, and that made me curious since Christian was the first Vampire to approach her.
He didn’t show a submissive bone in his body as he swaggered toward her and placed one hand on the wall. He leaned in close and lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. I watched closely to make sure he wasn’t charming her, and since I could see their profile, I paid attention to the direction of their eyes.
Hers were staring at the hilarious hat atop his head, while his were affixed to her unrealistically proportioned breasts.
“Take off his hat, take off his hat,” I chanted to myself.
Christian cut me a sharp look when he heard me with his Vampy little ears.
I smiled wide and waved my fingers. Knowing he was listening to me made me want to have a little fun.
“Oh, the finger brushing along the jaw. That’s original,” I said. “Did she shave down the stubble this morning? This isn’t a petting zoo.”
His jaw set. Christian continued talking, and I wondered what he was saying. She smiled briefly and said something in response. His finger grazed down her neck, holding firm at her clavicle.
I nibbled on my onion ring. “Leaning in—that’s a nice touch. Too bad you smell like beer and tacos. I bet she’s wondering if you run that taco stand up the road. Why don’t you tell her how you want to spend tens of dollars on her?”
Christian turned his back to me. When she reached for his hat, I gripped the edge of the table, excitement rippling through me. Just when I thought she was going to flick it off, he gently took her hand and lowered it to his ass.
“Dammit,” I whispered.
There was no way a woman like her would be caught dead making out with a Vampire in a blue fedora with a feather stuck to the side. Impossible!
When she went for the hat the second time, I smiled. “Doesn’t look like she thinks your ass is worth holding.”
He made a closed fist with the hand pressed against the wall, his stance rigid.
Christian whispered in her ear.
Man, I’d love to be a fly on the wall. Why couldn’t my Vampire abilities have included superhearing? Once again, destiny screwed me over. I pointed at a pitcher of beer when the waitress went by, and she nodded.
The knuckles of his left hand brushed slowly down the opening of the blonde’s dress as he continued whispering in her ear. Her eyes hooded and lips parted, but this game wasn’t over yet. I refused to believe that Christian could have anything to say that would seduce a woman of that caliber.
Aaand… I might have said that last thought aloud.
Christian curved his arm around her midsection and turned so their shoulders were against the wall and I had a perfect view. He went in so slowly for the kiss that it held me in suspense. When he pressed his lips against hers, I was suddenly struck with an unfamiliar emotion. It wasn’t the same feeling of disgust or even curiosity like the time I’d caught him having sex.
Was that jealousy I was feeling?
He kissed her as if she were a woman he revered, and a sharp pain lanced through my chest. What was going on? I was acting as if his lips belonged to me. Christian was handsome in a roguish way—the kind of dangerous man that women secretly admire. But looks weren’t enough to make me feel that way.
Incensed, I turned to the guy sitting behind me and mouthed the word Vampire while motioning toward Christian. Then I pointed at my eyes, suggesting that the woman had been char
med. One valuable lesson I’d learned in life was that drunk men loved to start fights. That was enough to get him out of his seat.
Some guys just needed a reason.
Whee! This was going to be fun. Especially since the guy looked like he might be a Shifter. He just had that alpha kind of personality, or maybe it was wishful thinking. Who else would have the balls to confront a Vampire?
When he touched Christian’s hat, I got so excited that I lurched out of my seat, bumped the table, and tipped over an empty glass. Christian quickly turned and then ducked out of the man’s reach.
Their voices increased in volume, and the woman quickly slipped away from the two men.
I tugged at the flaps hanging from my trapper hat. Christian could easily fight him off, being he was a Vampire with incredible strength, but he kept dodging the man so he couldn’t grab the hat.
“Dammit! Take off his hat!” I shouted excitedly, as if I were at a sporting event.
When a crowd gathered around, obstructing my view, I climbed on top of the table. The man took a swing at Christian, who caught his fist and pushed him back.
“Waitress! Can you bring me the most expensive bottle of alcohol you carry?” I shouted.
Christian snapped his gaze in my direction and gave me a baleful look. His hat was slightly askew and stuck out like a sore thumb with his all-black outfit. Vampires were impervious to temperature changes, but Christian liked wearing his long coat. He’d shaken out of it during our conversation, probably to show off his arms to some women who’d been walking past him to get his attention.
A brawl erupted between two Chitahs. Both had gone primal, their canines extended and golden eyes turned black. One man smashed a beer bottle over another guy’s head, people were shouting and cursing, and peanuts went scattering all over the wood floor.
Christian appeared and climbed on top of the table. “I suppose you’re having a delightful time.”
Someone bumped our table, and I gripped his shoulders to keep from falling off. “You’re not much of a fighter.”
