Creature of Habit (Creature of Habit #1)

by Angel Lawson

  This time he raised his brow and asked again, "Your intentions, Grant. What are they?"

  I paused and looked around the room. I saw the collections of books, the paintings on the wall, some hundreds of years old. I was able to see myself in here, the way I collected similar objects, trying to remember my place in this world. Something that proved I was here. Miles had the Council, which had provided a lifetime of work, several lifetimes, in fact. I had only just begun to make my mark.

  I braced myself, knowing I could lie to the others and lie to myself, but never Miles. I looked at him, eye to undead eye, companions for nearly a hundred years, and said the only thing I could.

  "I'm not sure how, but I intend to make her mine."

  ~*~

  I walked down the wide stairway from the second floor down to the main level of the house in Black Mountain. The house was quiet although Miles was still upstairs. Ryan and Elijah were engaged in a video game in the living room. I took some time to wander the house, stopping eventually in the art studio. Genevieve’s easel faced a wall of windows that overlooked the valley below. A blood red, velvet chaise sat against the far wall.

  The stainless steel counter in the corner held brushes and tools. Paints lined organized shelves. I ran a finger over the soft horsehair bristles and pushed back a familiar urge. No, this wasn’t me anymore. I shoved my hands in my pants pockets and glanced around the room, at the large windows and open rooms feeling exposed.

  “You know she keeps a stash of canvases in the corner for you. All of your old work is still on the wall…” Ryan said, coming into the room behind me.

  I didn't respond. I couldn't. I couldn't be what they wanted me to be.

  A fantasy of Amelia flashed before my eyes. I could envision her on the couch, neck exposed, back arched. I’d paint her hair a mixture of silver and gold.

  If I couldn't be what they wanted me to be, how could I be what she needed me to be?

  “How are you doing it, dude? How do you resist?”

  “We all hold back every day. We make choices not to consume people all the time.”

  “Sometimes we make that choice. Other times, at best, we’re simply delaying gratification, don’t you think?”

  Delayed gratification. Was that what I was doing with Amelia? Leave it to Ryan, the thickest one in the group, to hit the nail squarely on the head.

  “Whatever you’re doing, you’re playing with fire, man. She’s human. There’s no way this will end well.”

  I looked at Ryan now, hulking in size, simple in thought, living in a world of black and white. "You don’t know that. Even Olivia has said she’s not sure. The only reason she is alive now is because of me. And I promised her I would keep her safe. Which trust me, is close to a full-time job."

  His eyes narrowed and a mischievous grin formed on his face. "So, Eli says she's pretty. That helps, huh, with the not killing?" I glared at him. Unfortunately that didn’t shut him up and he said, thoughtfully, "I guess this explains a lot, though.”

  I quirked an eyebrow in question, leery of where this was going. “Explains what?”

  "I mean, if you were waiting all these years for a human to fall for then the whole Genevieve situation finally makes much more sense."

  My hands fisted at my side. Ryan was venturing into a deadly area as far as I was concerned.

  And he knew it.

  With a final smirk he said, with vampire speed, "Because if you were looking for a Damsel in Distress, like your new little girlfriend, no wonder that whole thing blew up. Genevieve is certainly no damsel, well I wouldn't know of course, but…wait? Is Amelia a virgin?"

  “Ryan,” I said, patience wearing thin.

  “I think to qualify as a Damsel in Distress you definitely have to be a virgin,” he continued, until he saw the look on my face. I lunged but in a flash, he was gone, the back door slamming before I reached it.

  “What the hell?” Sebastian said, racing to the porch.

  “Your brother is an asshole.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “He’s also a dead man,” I said, catapulting over the railing. Ryan was already miles deep in the woods behind the house. That didn’t stop me. I crashed through the tree line, hot on his trail.

  “Can I watch?” Sebastian asked, appearing next to me, arms pumping.

  “If you can keep up.”

  I flew through the woods, gaining on Ryan. It was only a matter of time before I caught him and he knew it. Ryan may be strong, but I was smarter. A lot smarter.

  ~*~

  Hours later, I tried to ignore Elijah as he fiddled with the knobs and buttons on my car stereo. He hitched a ride back to the city with me so he could meet up with Olivia. I wished I was alone so I could process the afternoon but I wasn't so lucky; my passenger had questions and he really needed to stop molesting my dashboard.

  Tired of waiting, I asked, "What do you want to know, Eli?"

  "What did Miles say?"

  "He reiterated that we’d have to be very careful with this Caleb situation."

  "You haven't heard anything else from Caleb though, right?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "No, things have been really quiet. I haven't heard of any murders or abductions. The police are still completely confused and are clearly trying to keep the information out of the press, because there has been little or nothing reported lately."

  "But they haven't gone to Amelia's again?" he asked, and again I shook my head.

  Elijah nodded in approval and asked me how patrolling was going. “It’s hard to be in two places at once. In the city and protecting Amelia.”

  “So you’ve been staying with her?”

  "She's been having nightmares and I felt the need to remain close." The look on his face told me he wasn't buying my excuse.

  “How are you going to handle this? I mean, Grant, she thinks you're gay. And even if she doesn't, you're a vampire. A vampire. Undead. Lives forever. Drinks blood. Okay, we drink animal blood, but didn’t you say she’s a vegetarian?”

  I snorted at the irony.

  “She's pretty cool, but no one is that cool. Plus her finding out you’re a vamp is pretty much breaking every vampire rule we have.”

  I snapped my head toward him. "What do you mean even if she doesn't think I’m gay?"

  “Look, you're the one who let Olivia spend the day with her. Who knows what she said. But if you did decide to do something, which I’m not saying you should, you may want to get on it sooner than later. It’s not like you have forever to mess around with this anyway.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the windshield, considering what Elijah said. He was right. Our time in North Carolina was coming to a close. It had nothing to do with Amelia, it was the reality of our lifestyle. I had one shot with this amazing woman and I think I had decided to take it. Unfortunately, I was used to living a year like it was one day, and I no longer had that freedom. If I was going to do this, I had to do it now. Which meant that little games like my sexual orientation had to stop. As much as I wanted Amelia to know the truth, that story was nothing more than a distraction from the larger issue at hand.

  I meant what I had said to Miles. The words came out of my mouth before I even knew they had formed. I did intend to make her mine. The decision had been made with or without my consent. I no longer really had control over it. It didn't hurt that lately I'd wondered if she was having similar feelings to mine. I noticed that her questions and gestures had taken a more familiar tone. My experience in such matters was miniscule. I couldn’t be sure if she was comfortable with me because I was 'safe' or if she was just comfortable with me.

  What I did know was that as long as she believed I was out of her reach, she stayed out of mine. Lately, her being out of my reach because of a lie wasn't enough anymore. It was getting harder and harder to stay away from her. And I hated lying. About everything, all the time.

  "What am I supposed to do Elijah, come out and say, "By the way, I'm not gay?" I con
tinued my false conversation. "And, Amelia, you know all that weird shit I do? It's because I'm a vampire. Apparently the traits are easily confused…when really she was just trying come to a reasonable solution—a realistic one.”

  Elijah broke into laughter and I groaned, rubbing my fingers through my hair.

  "If it were you, what would you do?" I asked him, completely serious.

  Elijah propped his elbow on the window of the car and leaned into his hand. "What would I do? Huh. I’m pretty sure I would’ve eaten her weeks ago."

  A growl rumbled protectively in my chest at the thought, but he only spoke the truth.

  "But," he continued, "honestly Grant, you are the only one of us who would ever get in a situation like this in the first place. You’re going to have to figure this one out on your own."

  His sincerity was more than I expected. Elijah had a long history of violence and destruction. It would have been easy for him to disapprove. The simple idea of considering a relationship with a human was dangerous. I placed the whole family at risk.

  None of that detracted from the fact I wanted her. I wanted Amelia, the human.

  I was so fucked.

  Chapter 34

  Amelia

  Olivia dropped me off after work and I stood, staring blankly into my refrigerator, trying to find some dinner. Drew was out with Jess. They were getting serious and he had been over quite a bit lately since Drew was worried about me being home by myself. It was Friday night though, and I insisted they go out. I was actually looking forward to relaxing and watching some TV alone. I had been trying to process all the information Olivia shared with me today, and I was still a little stunned that Grant wasn't gay. I believed her because she seemed so sincere, but really I wondered what I had gotten myself into with this family.

  Olivia's comment about being Grant's friend no matter what I learned about him was totally cryptic. I wanted to be there for him and help him through whatever it was that haunted him. But at some point, he was going to have to open up and let me in. He had already proven he could be a good friend to me, and I really wanted to do the same for him.

  Pushing these thoughts aside, I eyed the pathetic choices in my refrigerator and determined that the leftover vegetarian chili was not going to work. I dug though the kitchen drawer for the takeout menus.

  Five minutes later, I was scrolling though the numbers on my phone looking for my local Thai restaurant when I heard a sharp knock on the door. I checked the spy hole. My favorite jaw line, attached to my favorite boss, waited on the other side. Even though I was annoyed with the fact he was a lying-liar, I was pretty happy to see him. I missed riding home with him. Happiness didn’t fully explain the cheek-splitting grin on my face at the moment. It didn’t justify the butterflies in my stomach, either.

  I unlatched all the locks, knowing Grant would be listening to make sure I had the door secure. That was a conversation I did not want to have a second time. When I finally had the door open, he was waiting on the other side with a terribly sheepish look on his face and two bags of Thai food from the very restaurant I was about to call.

  "This is a surprise," I said, flashing him a quick, controlled smile.

  He gave me a killer one back that ignited the spark in my stomach. "I thought you may want some company and I brought dinner. You like Thai, right?" he asked and held the two bags up as evidence.

  Incredulous, I nodded my head at him as he walked past me into the apartment and I relocked the door. He put the bags down on the table and began gracefully removing containers and placing them on the table.

  I watched as he pulled out spring rolls, sticky rice, coconut soup and my favorite tofu and vegetable curry dish. I placed my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes at the scene unfolding in front of me.

  He glanced up and noticed my demeanor and with wide violet eyes said, "What? Is something wrong?"

  I pursed my lips trying to figure out exactly how to approach this. "Grant, what made you decide to bring Thai for dinner?"

  He was busy opening lids but his hands stopped for a brief moment before continuing. "I thought you would like it. I know you don't eat meat so I thought this would be a good choice."

  I considered this for a second but wasn't deterred. "Did you know this is my favorite restaurant?"

  He looked up, his ever-smooth face completely innocent. "Is it?"

  I rolled my eyes, pulling my hands from my hips and wrapping them around my chest defensively. "Yes, it is. And this happens to be all my favorite food."

  He turned now to face me and gave me another fabulous smile. "Really? Lucky guess."

  I glared at him. "You guessed and happened to bring exactly what I was getting ready to order from my favorite restaurant? You're good Grant, but not that good."

  He leaned back on the counter between my kitchen and dining area and crossed his arms back, revving up those butterflies again. Calmly, he said, "You're wrong. I am that good."

  "Really?" I challenged.

  "Really." He accepted.

  I waited for him to explain, because he was going to.

  He pulled a chair out from the table and gestured for me to sit in it. I did and he pulled out his own and sat down across from me. The spices and heat from the food tickled my nose and were making my mouth water. He must have noticed because he said, "Go ahead and eat. I'll explain."

  I pulled a plastic fork and spoon out of the wrapper and took a tentative sip of the steaming hot soup. It was delicious. I raised an eyebrow at him to proceed.

  "First, Amelia, you are more transparent than you think. You've brought leftovers from this restaurant more than once to work."

  I grimaced. Stupid, observant boss. It made me wonder for a moment what else he had noticed.

  "That doesn't explain you bringing it here tonight, just as I was going to call," I retorted.

  He rolled his eyes at me this time. "Olivia called and said she had dropped you off so I knew you were home and hadn't eaten..."

  He hesitated at the end a bit and so I prompted, "And…"

  His eyes flicked to the table, the smirk gone a bit and the sheepish one returned. "And I checked your refrigerator this morning while you were getting your sweater. I knew you had nothing to cook."

  I recalled opening the door this morning and greeting Grant. He’d suggested I get a wrap since it was fairly cool this morning. I went back to my room to get it, leaving him in the doorway, and came back moments later with him in the same spot. Grant was either really fast or really lying. I wasn't sure which one yet.

  I pondered these things for a minute while dipping my spring roll in sauce and taking a bite. The sauce was thick and tangy, and a glob of it dripped down my hand as I picked it up. I noticed Grant watching me eat, his eyes shifting to the mess on my hand. Knowing he was such a clean freak, I decided to push his buttons a bit since we were in my house and on my time.

  I put my elbow on the table and twisted my arm so I could see the sauce slowly dripping down my arm. I looked at Grant carefully and said, "Okay. But stop checking my refrigerator. It's creepy and it's not like you eat anything anyway." Before he could respond, never taking my eyes off his, I stuck my tongue out and took a long swipe at the sauce.

  I expected him to be repulsed. Perhaps he would scrunch up his face in revulsion. I thought it was possible he would gag, run to the bathroom and return with soap, antiseptic or bleach.

  He did none of those things.

  Instead I watched him swallow hard and lick his lips. His eyes pulsed with dilation.

  Busted.

  Olivia was right. He wasn't gay.

  Slowly, I pushed my chair back and walked into the kitchen, and turned on the faucet. I pumped some soap into my palm and washed the remaining sauce off my arm, all while keeping my back to him. It was time to confront him. I was just going to come out and ask him if he was or wasn't gay. No big. I mean, it couldn’t be worse than how we got here in the first place.

  I opened the refrigerator and
pulled out a bottle of wine. There was no way I was doing this without liquid courage. Pouring myself a generous glass, I walked back to my seat where Grant was sitting exactly as I left him.

  He eyed the glass and the change in my demeanor. “I won't go in your refrigerator anymore. Not unless you ask." He then made an attempt to change the conversation. "How was your day? Olivia said she kept you busy. What did you do?"

  I took another bite of my dinner, chewing slowing and plotting my words carefully. "It was a good day. Olivia and I had fun. By the way, she is completely responsible for your closet. I was an innocent bystander."

  "I can imagine," he muttered under his breath. “I’m well aware that you can't stop Olivia from doing whatever she has her mind set on."

  I nodded and smiled, working up the courage to ask my question. I speared a chunk of tofu on my fork and looked up at him, innocently. "You know, Grant. Olivia was telling me about your family today and some things about you. She made me realize you and I may have confused some information awhile back."

  Interest flickered though his eyes and he cocked his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, and I apologize for talking to her about your personal life, but I wondered why someone as successful and attractive and caring as you are, wasn't in a relationship." I paused and took a long sip from my glass, letting the moment grow. "I also asked her if perhaps you would be open to me setting you up with one of my friends. He's fantastic."

  Grant was completely still across from me. Everything about him, from his hair to his hands to his feet, appeared frozen. I sat back in my chair, holding my glass, rocking my wrist back and forth to let the liquid swirl around in a circle. I was completely freaking out inside. I had no idea why I felt the need to push this man to his limits, but I did and I was.

  There was a battle raging behind his eyes. I watched it unfold like a bad TV movie. He was working out his lie in front of me and for that I was going to take him down.

  "That is really nice of you, but I don't think I have the time for a relationship right now," he said, convincingly. If I didn't know better, I would've believed it. I needed to file this fact away for the future. Grant Palmer was possibly a con man and had no problem lying right to my face.