Sweet Last Drop

by Melody Johnson

  Sunset was minutes away, and whatever had attacked Lydia, Patricia, and John—vampire or otherwise—was still out there. The winding country road stretched for miles, and taxis didn’t exist this far from civilization. I rolled my eyes at the inconvenience of country living and started walking. If Bex was anything like Dominic, she’d come find me when I didn’t arrive in time for dinner, and with any luck, she’d find me before I became the victim at our next crime scene.

  I only wished I had Walker—hell, I wished I had anyone—at my back when she did.

  * * * *

  Ten minutes later, the dim dusk evening doused into full darkness. Without streetlights, porch lights, or light of any sort, I stumbled along the road, tripping over roots when I strayed too far from the curb. The sky, with its stars and half moon, was more illuminated than the unlit road. The sight of such a swirling mass of starlight was stunning. Strangely, it reminded me of the city and a moment I’d experienced with Dominic only a short three weeks ago. After everything I’d experienced and learned since then—everything I’d learned about life and myself—three weeks felt like a lifetime.

  In that moment with Dominic, I’d thought I was dying. I’d been attacked by Kaden and the other rebels, and Dominic had saved me. He’d torn the vampires from my body, literally, as they drank from me and flown me to a rooftop, away from danger. I’d laid in his arms, too weak and scared to do more than stare at the impossibility of having been flown anywhere, let alone a rooftop. As I’d stared out at the expanse of the city lights below, I couldn’t help but feel the awe of insignificance in the presence of its enormity.

  I felt the same awe now as I gazed at the mass of stars overhead, and strangely enough, I felt the same fear. Instead of being afraid of Dominic, I feared the unknown. The buzz of cicadas filled the silence. The hiss and chirps and rustles of God only knew what echoed from the woods, and the hard shuffle of my boots kicking gravel only sounded louder as I quickened my pace.

  I was on the verge of admitting idiocy and making an about-face when a single headlight beamed from behind. The winding road was suddenly in full spotlight, the woods on either side casting lined shadows across the road from overlaying branches, and the deep roar of an engine came upon me. Maybe it was half habit from hailing taxis, and half desperation, but I put up my arm for a ride.

  As the roar slowed to a rumbling purr, I realized two things: one, my hail had worked and the vehicle was stopping, and two, the vehicle was a motorcycle. My heart dropped. The rider coasted next to me, and I shielded my eyes against the brightness of its beams.

  “When you need a pick-up in the country, you don’t hail a ride like you would a cab, darlin’. You stick your thumb out. It’s called hitchhiking.”

  Even after my eyes adjusted, I couldn’t discern the man’s features through the shield of his helmet, but I didn’t need to see him to know that voice or recognize the chrome and matte black Harley-Davidson beneath him. Walker had invited me for a ride once before, but in the city, where cabs are readily available, I’d been able to politely decline without causing a fuss. I looked out into the darkness of the woods, then back at the motorcycle warily. A cab wasn’t going to zoom around that bend to save me from the darkness. All I had was Walker and his damn Harley-Davidson. I wondered if I would have been better off on my own.

  “What happened to your truck?” I asked.

  Walker took off his helmet and rested it on his knee. “Hello to you, too.”

  I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows.

  “Not impressed?”

  “Not particularly. Your truck offers more protection should dinner with Bex—” I considered my words. “—stray off menu.”

  Walker laughed. “Should dinner with Bex stray off menu, we’ll need speed and maneuverability.” He patted the seat behind him. “She’s exactly what we need. Trust me.”

  “We?” I asked. My heart bounced a little flip flop in my chest at the thought. “Finally come to your senses? Are you joining me for dinner with Bex?”

  Walker sighed. “I never lost my senses, but I’m wondering about yours, out here in the woods after sunset with a murderer on the loose.” He shook his head. “No sense there, far as I can see.”

  “I doubt you can see very far at all in this darkness.”

  “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Walker said, laughing. “Don’t quit your day job.”

  I shrugged. “Joking aside, I’m not going back to your house. I’m—”

  Walker waved my words away with his hand. “You’re going to meet Bex for dinner. I know. And apparently, I’m going with you.”

  “Apparently?”

  “After you left, it got pretty hostile at the house. I’ve never considered the night bloods a democracy—it’s my house, after all—but there’s no arguing with a unanimous vote. You need backup.”

  “I know I do. Although, I’d prefer a willing partner, not one that needed votes.”

  “I’m willing, darlin’. If I was only endangering myself, you know that I’d be your backup anywhere.”

  I frowned. “But you said the vote was unanimous.”

  He nodded. “It was.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Even from Ronnie?”

  “Especially Ronnie,” Walker admitted. “She called me a hypocrite.”

  I frowned. “Why would she say that?”

  “She’s my partner, but when my feelings changed toward Bex, when I finally saw her for the monster she really is, Ronnie wouldn’t be my backup. She abandoned me when I needed her most, and I was forced to confront Bex alone.”

  I reached out and touched his shoulder. I couldn’t not touch him when he looked like that, like the memories were splitting him in two. “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “It’s all right. I understand now that she was afraid, and still is, actually, and what I was asking of her was beyond what she was capable of giving. But like you said, everyone needs a partner. Everyone needs someone at their back, but when I needed Ronnie most, she wasn’t there for me. No one was. I had to face Bex alone, and I’ll be damned, apparently, if I do the same to you.”

  I laughed at his tone. “Despite the fact that you were forced here by Ronnie’s guilt trip, I appreciate the backup.”

  “Good.” He reached behind him and produced something from a zippered pouch. “Hop on.”

  I realized after a long second that the object he was extending to me was a helmet. “I don’t think so.”

  “It’s a rule. I don’t let anyone ride without a helmet.”

  “That’s very responsible of you, but I’m not riding. I have rules, too, and one of them is having the metal body of a car and airbags surrounding me while cruising over thirty miles an hour.”

  “Don’t worry, darlin’, we’ll cruise well over thirty.”

  I glared at him. Although he probably couldn’t see my expression through the darkness, he could undoubtedly feel the heat of it because he laughed.

  “This motorcycle should be the least of your worries. We’re in full darkness in the middle of the woods. Besides the murderer and vampires, we’ve got bear, wolves, and coyotes in these parts. It’s a forty-minute drive to Bex’s coven. You want to walk there yourself?” He offered me the helmet a second time. “Take it and hop on. I’m not telling you again.”

  I snatched the helmet out of his hand just as I felt my phone vibrate. More to stall than actual curiosity, I checked my phone before strapping on the helmet but couldn’t contain my laughter at the message waiting for me.

  Walker raised his eyebrows.

  “Trying to boss me around all the way from New York City.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Carter?”

  I nodded, hating to lie, but I knew that he wouldn’t receive the truth well if I told him that Dominic had just texted me. I pursed my lips, trying not to smile at his message:

  I might be four hundred and seventy seven years old, but I know how to text. G
ood luck.

  “I haven’t had the opportunity to help you research crime rates like I promised,” Walker admitted sheepishly, and it took a moment before I realized that he was referring to Carter and the article I was supposed to be writing for his paper. “As soon as you got here, we got slammed with homicide after homicide.”

  I sighed regretfully. “I know, but we’ll make time eventually. It’s only my second night here. How better to get a grip on crime rates than to experience it firsthand?”

  Walker snorted. “We’ve had enough experience. I’m personally looking forward to the research.”

  I eyed the helmet in my hands dubiously as Walker spoke. I hadn’t known the gravity of agreeing to be a motorcyclist’s passenger the last time I’d put on a helmet.

  “You don’t need to examine the thing. It’s in full working order, I assure you.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” I smoothed my hand over its hard, fiberglass surface. Adam had been scrupulous about auto maintenance for all his vehicles, but for his motorcycle and my equipment in particular, he had been meticulous. No amount of preparation and precaution, however, can prevent a driver from spilling scalding coffee in his lap and running a red light. That’s why they’re called accidents.

  “Once you put it on, we can get going. The sooner we get to the coven, the sooner we can put this disastrous dinner date behind us.”

  “We don’t know that dinner will be disastrous.”

  “Anything involving Bex is a disaster waiting to happen.”

  I nodded, but I wasn’t really listening. I was still seeing the round, inset headlights of a Dodge Challenger barreling toward us. My scream was fast and vibrated strangely inside my helmet, but Adam’s reflexes were faster. He throttled forward and swerved out of reach. The Challenger narrowly missed our back tire by the tips of my split ends and slammed into the car behind us. I watched it unfold—the shriek of brakes, the stink of burnt rubber, and the grind of metal on metal—and as the passenger, I’d only been able to hang on tight for the ride.

  Being a passenger on a motorcycle meant literally entrusting the driver with your life. You could try to say the same for any motor vehicle, but on a motorcycle, there was nothing between your body and 4,000 pounds of metal except luck and reflexes. Adam was an excellent driver. He’d unequivocally saved our lives that day, but I never wanted to be that completely helpless to save myself ever again.

  “I’m a great driver, DiRocco,” Walker drawled, as if he could hear my thoughts. “I’ve had vampires flying on my tail and trees to navigate and passengers to protect, but I’ve never crashed. I’ve had close calls, not gonna lie, but my wheels have always stayed on the ground.”

  I breathed a deep, indecisive sigh. “I’m sure you’re an excellent driver, but I’ve had close calls before with excellent drivers. I promised myself, never again.”

  Walker leaned forward. “You trust me at your back against Bex?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “You trust me to protect you and bring you back from dinner in one piece?”

  “I trust that we’ll protect each other, and together, we’ll do our damnedest to survive.”

  Walker nodded. “So trust me now. Put on the helmet, hop on the bike, and let’s go.”

  The one had nothing to do with the other, and Walker knew that. Just because I trusted an environmental science expert and animal tracker with a lifetime of night blood experience as my partner against the vampires did not mean I trusted him on that bike. The cicadas continued buzzing and the crickets continued chirping in a pulsing chorus while Walker waited on my move.

  In the end it came down to a simple decision despite my indecisiveness. It didn’t matter that Walker was an excellent driver nor that I trusted him with my life. It didn’t matter that his vendetta to kill vampires was more important to him than saving lives, and the promises I’d made to myself concerning motor vehicle safety didn’t matter, either. What mattered was that we were in the middle of the woods, miles from the coven after sunset, and we were late for dinner with a Master vampire.

  I strapped on the helmet and swung my leg over the bike.

  Walker laughed, but I heard it through the helmet’s headset rather than from him. “Just put your arms around my waist and relax. You’re gonna love this.”

  “I doubt that,” I said, just to be obstinate. I knew I’d love it: the speed, the adrenaline, leaning into the turns and accelerating into the stretches. The purr of the bike between my legs. Hugging the ridges of Walker’s back. There was no doubt I would love it. I’d always loved it, even with Adam, but loving something and recognizing whether or not it was good for you were two completely different things. I consciously chose not to ride on a bike ever again, just like I’d chosen not to ingest Percs ever again, because I chose to live instead. The joys that motorcycles and Percs offered weren’t worth the risk to my life.

  I wrapped my arms around Walker’s waist. He revved the ignition, and my stomach bottomed out as we jetted forward.

  Chapter 6

  “He’s lost his damn mind,” I grumbled to myself.

  Walker and I were standing outside the entrance to Bex’s coven. We’d ridden the back roads of the woods for about twenty minutes. The experience of riding was just as thrilling as I’d remembered, but thanks to my hip, the experience was also quite painful. We’d cut off road onto a dirt path for five minutes before dismounting and walking another fifteen or twenty minutes through thick foliage. My hip couldn’t endure such intense physical activity anymore. Sparks of grinding pain shot through my leg, and I fought not to noticeably limp.

  And now that we’d finally reached the coven entrance, after riding for twenty minutes and stumbling through the dark for another twenty, Walker started pulling ropes, anchors, and harnesses from his pack.

  I stared alternately at the cave’s entrance and its vertical drop to the equipment that Walker was knotting and looping and preparing for us, and I knew, without a doubt, that he’d lost his mind.

  I grumbled as much beneath my breath, and he looked up. “What was that?”

  “You think I’m climbing down there?” My question ended on a squeak, and I pointed down at the cave. “You’ve lost your mind,” I repeated. I stared down into the cave’s fathomless depth and shook my head.

  “No,” He said, and his voice was calm and steady, the way you talk slowly to a child on the verge of a meltdown. “I think you’re rappelling down there.”

  I nodded. “Yep. You’ve lost your mind.”

  “It’s easy. The ropes and pulleys distribute your weight, so there’s essentially no work involved on your end. You just lower yourself down with the ropes and steady yourself against the cave walls with your feet. When the wall expands away from you, just relax and lower yourself to the bottom.” He spread his hands as if to encompass all the equipment in front of him and everything he’d just said. “Easy.”

  “The wall’s going to expand? So I’ll be dangling hundreds of feet above the vampire coven in midair.” I shook my head. “Are you serious?”

  He stared at me, not seeing a problem.

  “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you,” I grumbled, annoyed at him for not seeing my limitations but mostly annoyed at myself for having them.

  “I don’t understand why you’re balking. You’ve faced worse odds against Dominic and Kaden and Jillian, and you faced them head on. I get that it’s a deep, dark cave, and that the cave is filled with vampires. It’s scary, I get that, but—”

  “I’m not scared—” I said automatically and then shook my head. “Well, I’m actually terrified, but that’s not the point. I was just as terrified when facing Dominic and Kaden and Jillian, and I faced them anyway.”

  Walker put his hands on his hips. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I can’t physically do it.” I said it fast, like ripping the bandage off a wound, but the sting from the rip still hurt like hell.

&nb
sp; “Sure you can. Just lean back on the harness, and let the ropes and pulleys do the work for you.”

  “Just lean back?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “The harness goes around my waist, and you want me to lean back on my hips?”

  Walker opened his mouth, about to agree, when he finally understood my point. “Your hip,” he murmured.

  I nodded.

  “I know it pains you. I’ve noticed you limp sometimes, but—”

  “It hurts all the time,” I admitted. I looked down into the cave, and it killed me to admit it to myself, let alone to Walker, but I was not going to be able to rappel down. “It hurts whether I move or stay still. It hurts whether or not I’m weight-bearing. It hurts constantly and relentlessly. I can still grit my teeth and bear through it enough to walk and work and maybe even run when I’m being chased, but this—” I looked at the equipment and shook my head. “—I’ve always believed whole heartedly that I could do anything I set my mind to achieve, but Walker, this is impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible. I’ll add more harnesses to distribute the weight off your hip.”

  “Walker, you’re not listening. I can’t—”

  “It’s the only way down, so if you still want to move forward with this insane dinner date, than step in.” Walker offered me the harness, holding the straps wide for my feet.

  “It’s not the only way down,” a sultry voice whispered from the other side of the cave.

  Walker looked up at the voice and curled his lip.

  Bex was balancing on the small ledge of the cave opposite us. She was smiling, still wearing skinny jeans and the beautifully detailed, leather cowboy boots from last night, but her top was sexy and strappy and showed a lot of skin. I’d wager that top was not for my benefit. Her wavy bronze hair was curled into ringlets, and each ringlet gleamed ethereally in the moonlight.