Not that we openly battled one another. Outright fighting would draw way too much unwanted attention from humans. Plus some members of the supernatural society actually wanted to live in peace and harmony. Ha! How they thought we’d ever do that with Master Daemon Asmodeus after all our hides, I had no idea. So I personally took pride in keeping the Were-Vamp feud alive and had seduced so many enemies to untimely deaths that my colleagues in chaos nicknamed me Charisma.
This particular Saturday night I wore tight jeans tucked into suede fringe knee boots and a white peasant blouse when I walked into Rafferty’s Bar and Grill. That was another thing that contributed to my success. I didn’t frequent the obvious Were hangouts as did other assassins. I went where the smart Weres went, to the nondescript places no self-respecting canis lupuswould go. And I didn’t wear a black leather bustier or five-inch stilettos, either. Might as well have leech tattooed on my forehead, right? I went for the home girl look.
My initial olfactory scan of the eatery proved disappointing. No Weres so far. What a shame. I’d had such good luck all week, almost every night having a choice among several targets. I even managed a double snuff on Thursday, a pleasure I wouldn’t soon forget.
What I did scent was a couple of Vamps keeping a low profile. I did not acknowledge them as I sat at the bar to order a drink and some cheese fries. Yeah, another myth laid to rest. We could eat and drink something besides blood. What we couldn’t do was digest it, which meant I’d be puking my guts out later. Unpleasant, but worth it to fit in.
Around eleven, my nose twitched. With a toss of my long brunette curls, I scanned the bustling crowd for the source. I spotted him at the other end of the bar and winced. Just my luck. Another cowboy who probably liked the George Jones song blaring from the jukebox. Well, this was Texas. And since I didn’t have any other choice tonight, he’d just have to do.
I stole a moment to scope him out, approving of his shaggy brown hair, sky blue eyes, and athlete’s body. I especially liked his wide shoulders and long legs. The guy looked nothing but H-O-T, even in that redneck get-up. I licked my lips in anticipation.
What can I say? I’m undead, not dead. And I’d always had a thing for...
Three guesses what. First two don’t count.
Yeah. John Wayne. Sick, huh?
Somehow I’d have to hold my lust in check so I could do the deed.
I stared until the guy felt it and looked my way, then ducked my head as if embarrassed to be caught ogling. Of course he left his stool and walked over with a bottle of Bud Light in his hand so he could sit next to me.
“May I buy you a drink?”
I hesitated.
“I promise I won’t bite.”
That made one of us. I nodded shyly. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
“What’s your poison?” He eyed my empty glass.
Poison? I choked back a laugh at the irony of that particular word.
“Diet Coke.” I gave him a hint of a smile.
He gave me back a full-fledged one and motioned for the barkeep to refill our glasses.
“Name’s Beau.”
Sigh. Of course it was.
He offered me his right hand. As I shook it, I glimpsed a tattoo on the inside of his wrist just under the cuff of his chambray shirt. A bright red V set within a circle slashed from upper right to lower left by a thick black line.
My mouth went so dry I could barely say my made-up name. “Jenny Beth.”
“Short for Jennifer Elizabeth?”
“How’d you guess?” Somehow I managed to widen my smile. Before me sat the most notorious Vamp killer in the history of the paranormal universe. We’d stalked this dude for centuries to no avail as he murdered us one by one.
But Destiny made him mine tonight. I could not screw this up.
He sniffed. “Love your cologne. What is it?”
“Infamy.” I didn’t add that years of testing ensured that one drop not only masked my Vamp scent, but actually lured unsuspecting Weres such as him. Unlike Beau, a.k.a. Omega, I made certain nothing gave me away.
As anxious as I was determined, I wanted to rush the process, to lure him outside with the promise of sex. Then I’d deliver a lethal dose of silver via my hot pink lipstick, the latest Vamp weapon fresh from the labs, and leave him stone dead in the parking lot.
Yeah. Silver really did work on Weres. Another myth that had truth to it.
But I took things slow.
We made small talk. We drank. We made small talk while we drank. He told me he owned a ranch. I confessed I taught first grade. I listened to his bullshit about fences, steers, and rodeos. He listened to mine about students, principals, and meddling parents.
Worse, we also laughed. A lot. And by the time I headed to the powder room at closing time to reapply my toxic lipstick, I realized I’d thoroughly enjoyed tonight’s deadly dance. I could definitely understand his high success rate. What I couldn’t understand was why he didn’t hit on one of the other Vamps in the bar instead of little ol’ “human” me. I also wondered why he hadn’t suggested we leave to be alone. I couldn’t remember a night I’d flirted any harder. Why, I must’ve dropped a dozen hints that the loud music hurt my ears, that the rowdy crowd smothered me, that I wouldn’t mind us having a private party elsewhere.
Beau never took the bait.
But I couldn’t give up. In spite of my weakness for cowboys, I wanted to kill him badly.
I waited for the place to empty out and the bartender to glare at us before I blurted, “Walk me to my car?” If he didn’t initiate a good-night kiss there, I’d do it.
“My pleasure.”
We left the building just as the owner flipped off the neon lights. I heard the lock click behind us. A glance back told me the sign on the door already said Closed.
Perfect.
Two vehicles sat in that parking lot--my midnight blue Hyundai and his black Dodge Ram. I dug my key from my shoulder bag and pressed the remote on it. A distant blip confirmed I’d unlocked my car. Beau kept pace with me all the way there, then opened my door and stepped aside so I could slip behind the wheel.
Damn. What was wrong with this guy?
Desperate, I brushed my boobs against him and tipped my head back. “Thanks, Beau. I had a great time tonight.”
“My pleasure,” he drawled. I could’ve sworn the corner of his mouth twitched as if he struggled not to smile. Clearly this cowboy didn’t know how near demise he stood.
When he didn’t lean in for a smooch, I took the initiative and pulled his face closer.
I pressed my lips to his; I waited.
Nothing. Happened.
Beau did not drop dead at my feet. Instead, he dipped me way back and laid a big, fat, really juicy kiss on my poisoned lips.
The world blurred as star-spangled midnight faded to pitch black.
And my last rational thought?
Damn, this dog can kiss.
I opened my eyes much, much later according to the clock on my dash. My temples throbbed, a side effect of Were saliva. I realized I sat alone in my locked car, still parked at Rafferty’s, my wrists and ankles neatly bound with braided leather rope in such a way that I couldn’t use either. A painful glance to my right revealed the Ram parked in the spot next to me.
“Chapstick.”
I jumped a foot off the seat. I tried to look over my shoulder, but couldn’t, so I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw...
Three guesses who. First two don’t count.
Yeah. Cowboy Beau. Lounging in my back seat.
What the hell?
I swallowed hard and tried to keep my cool. “What about it?”
“Keeps the silver from penetrating our lips. Nice try, though. And it would’ve worked if our undercover Were didn’t stay one step ahead of your technology.”
Damn. “So you know what I am.”
“What and who. Charisma, herself. I’m honored.”
“Nice to meet you, Omega.”
He grinned at
me. “So what are we going to do about this?”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“Under normal circumstances, yes. Unfortunately our situation is anything but.”
“Because...?”
“I like you.”
I felt a glimmering of hope. Stupid, stupid Were. So stupid that I could actually tell him the truth. “Oddly enough, I like you, too.”
He laughed at me. “And we can each go our separate ways and forget the other exists?”
“Not so much.”
“Thought you might say that.” He began to hum ‘Should’ve Been a Cowboy,’ all the while examining a combat knife that he held at eye level. It glinted when it caught a beam from the security lights. I knew it could decapitate me in one quick slash.
I tried to distract him. “What gave me away?”
“Your cologne. What did you call it...? ‘Infamy’? That’s apropos.”
“So you’d smelled it before?”
“Yep.” For the longest time, he continued to hum. Then he suddenly leaned forward to lift my hair and trail his lips over my neck.
A shiver of delight stretched from there all the way to my.... No! What the heck was wrong with me? I did not want this cowboy, er, Were, in my pants!
Oblivious to my humiliating reaction--or not so--he sat back and resumed his inspection of the knife. “I’ve been watching you work the bar for a while now.”
“No way. I’d have spotted you.”
“News flash, baby. Weres don’t just phase from human to wolf to human again. They can also manage a human to human shift.”
Now why would he tell me that secret unless...? I began twisting my hands, trying to work them free of the rope.
“You passed me over five times this week alone. I was just wondering why.”
I thought of all the cowboys I hadn’t made my target. “Your hayseed look, asshole. I hate cowboys.”
“Why? Did one of them break your heart?”
“As if.”
“But you went for it tonight.”
“It was you or nothing. I hate to go home without a new notch on my belt. Figuratively speaking, that is. I’d never wear anything that tacky.”
“Of course not.” The steel knife flashed again. The silence stretched into forever.
“So kill me already.”
“No can do.”
“Why not?”
“I said why. I like you.”
And I like you, dammit. But what has that got to do with anything? ”What do you usually do to Vamps you like?”
“Damned if I know. This is all new for me.”
“I’m not having sex with you first, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Never crossed my mind.”
“No shit?” It had sure as hell had crossed mine.
His smug laugh would’ve made me blush if I could still do that.
I took a deep breath. “What I mean is...why not? Is something wrong with me?”
“Besides the fact that you’re dead? Not a damn thing.” He started humming again, a slight frown knitting his eyebrows.
“It’ll be dawn soon.”
“And you won’t burst into flames.”
Hm. “Can we at least get out of this parking lot? I don’t want a run-in with the police any more than you do.”
“Guess I could take you to my place.”
“On second thought, let’s call 9-1-1.”
Grinning, he stretched lazily, then opened my back door and got out of the car. I turned my head away when he rested his arms on the roof and leaned in the open window. That made him laugh again.
“Know what?”
I didn’t answer.
“I think you’ve been avoiding me all week not because cowboys turn you off, but because they turn you on.”
“Get real.”
“And if I take you home, we can probably find out just how much.”
Oh no. “I’d rather be dead.”
“You are dead.” Beau opened my door.
Fangs out, I went for his throat. He jerked back and hauled me out of the car. Of course I landed in an inglorious heap at his feet.
Slow-motion seconds passed as he stared down at me. “For the record, I still like you.”
Ditto, unfortunately. I studied the toe of his weathered boot instead of risking an answer.
One smooth move had me tossed over his shoulder and then dangling face down above his amazing Wrangler ass. How humiliating. He dropped me into the back of his pickup truck, got into the cab, and hit the road.
Road? I wished. The terrain maneuvered by the Ram couldn’t even be called a path. I bounced all over the bed of that truck.
“Ooh, damn you! Ow, you son of a bitch!”
What made it worse was Beau’s laughter, and before that truck finally lurched to a halt, I wished I didn’t have Vamp ears. Normally I reveled in the fact that I could hear a bumblebee burp from a mile away.
Nursing my bruised body and ego, I refused to look at my nemesis when he got out of the truck and peered into the bed.
“You okay?”
“As if you cared.”
Chuckling, Beau walked to the back of the vehicle and lowered the tailgate. He grasped my ankles and slid me to the edge, then scooped me up in his arms, Rhett Butler style. Immediately, he headed deeper into the woods.
“Where are we going?” I used my amped senses to identify my surroundings. I realized that tall trees surrounded and arched over us, almost obscuring the light of dawn. I smelled wild jasmine, cedar, moss, and mud. I heard the bark of a squirrel, the slither of a snake. I felt a fresh summer breeze on my face.
“My place.”
“You said you lived on a ranch.”
“I might’ve lied.”
Shit. Shit. Shit! If this Were had a cozy log cabin with a table or a couch or a bearskin rug, I’d jump his bloodthirsty bones. But why wait that long? We could do it anywhere. Here, even.
To my fellow Were stalkers: This is Charisma. You know that assassin we can’t seem to kill? Omega? Well.... “Beau?”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck me.”
He stopped in his tracks. “What?”
“Fuck. Me.”
His eyes narrowed. “This is new.”
“You can say that again.”
“Weird, too.”
“And we wouldn’t want to go against the norm. I mean, Vamps and Weres are sooo natural.”
He grinned. “You have a point.” His grin vanished. “Would any cowboy do?”
“Nope. Just you.”
“Hm.”
For the longest time, he stood there, looking down at me in silence. But I heard his heartbeat quicken, and felt the tell-tale bulge behind his fly.
I gave him an honest smile. “There are rules, of course.”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
“You have to keep your spit to yourself.”
“Only if you keep your fangs to yourself.”
“Deal.” I held out my bound hands. “Got a knife?”
Beau set me on my feet and withdrew it from the leather sheath at his waist. A quick flick released my wrists and then my ankles. “We’ll probably regret this in the morning.”
“It is morning.” I wiped my lips on the hem of my blouse just in case, then wasted no time in wrapping my arms around his neck. Our lips touched.
Mmmm.
Beau lifted the hem of my shirt. I reached for his fancy belt buckle.
Tree roots to our left began to groan, snap and surge upward as the forest floor buckled before our eyes and something enormous ascended from the dirt to loom before us.
Beau cursed; I gasped and spun around.
Asmodeus, himself. Daemon of all Daemons. Supreme killer of the paranormal universe. The clawed leg and fierce heads confirmed his identity, as did his vicious growl.
I threw my arms back to keep Beau safe behind me...or tried to. He did not cooperate, instead shoving me aside and squaring off to face our
mutual enemy alone. His outstretched arm warned me to keep away.
I sprang to my feet.
“Stay!” Beau shouted at me, even as he exploded into an enormous silver Wolf.
Of course I ignored him. So shoulder to shoulder, a Vamp and Were fought off Asmodeus until the hot sun beat down on us from high above. But in the end, our ferocious battle had no victor. The Daemon simply stepped back, nodded politely, and descended into hell again.
The Wolf instantly shifted into naked, bloody, muddy Beau.
And I looked no better. We eyed each other in disbelief.
“What was that all about?” I asked, pushing my hair out of my face.
“The novelty of us, maybe?”
“There is that.”
“I can’t believe you tried to save me.” Beau shook his head. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“That I liked you? That sex on the sly for all eternity sounded perfect, but would never happen if you were dead?”
He blinked. “Thanks, Charisma.”
“Thank you, Omega.”
“So when does this orgy start?”
My gaze dropped below his waist. “Mmm, does now work?”
He grabbed my shirt again.
And me? Well, I grabbed something else.
Three guesses what.
First. Two. Don’t. Count.
The End
Salute Your Shifter
by Dahlia Rose
The party in the commissary banquet hall was jumping. Spiders, cobwebs, and an assortment of decorations hung from every surface. The fall colors of orange and black were set off stringed lights hanging from the ceiling. Specialist Nia Kirkston looked around and took a sip from her drink. She grimaced and recalled that Irish car bombs are not a sipping drink, so she chugged it down.
“Way to go, Nia!”
One of the soldiers from her office clapped her on the back, and she grinned as the drink went straight to her head. It was good that they were given permission to have the Halloween party. As the news came down that the last of the platoons were being drawn out of Iraq and heading home, there was a reason to celebrate. Nia looked down at her boot with the shiny silver heels and knew her costume was risqué. Sexy kitty with riding crop?She doubted her choice when she looked in the full length mirror before leaving her place. The black against her ebony skin made a sexy contrast. She had even rubbed gold glitter lotion over her body to give it that sexy sheen. Thank God my boss is not here to see this.
Just One Bite Volume 2 Page 10
