by A. Vers
She backpedaled fast. “I said I’m fine.”
My extended hand hung in the air between us. Her frustration was palpable. As was her fear.
I let my hand drop. “Okay,” I told her. “I’m not pushing you to feed right now, Morgan. But I don’t want you to make yourself sick either.”
I wasn’t sure how much of what I knew about vamps was accurate, but I knew they had to feed. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t survive.
And my gut didn’t like that idea at all.
She tucked back her damp hair. “I know. And I won’t.” I continued to watch her until she finally met my gaze. “I promise. When I need to feed, I will worry about it then.”
Though I wasn’t sure about her phrasing, particularly the I part, I let it go.
We started back across the yard, and the storm showed no signs of abating anytime soon. But it wasn’t the only darkness in the air. A kind of gloom hung over her again. One that I had finally gotten rid of in the store.
“You know,” I began mildly. “It’s raining.”
She glanced over at me like I was losing my mind. “I’m aware.”
“Well, the house doesn’t have water, and this may be the last chance to take a shower until we can set up the one we bought.”
“Shower?”
I nodded and motioned around us. “Nature’s very own.”
Her eyes were very wide and very bright. “You want to shower outside?”
I shrugged. “It’s a pretty steady downpour. We bought soap. Towels. I’m just saying, it could be an adventure.”
“Ryder, I don’t—”
“You can take one side of the porch, I’ll take the other. It’s like showering in a locker room. Just in the fresh air.”
She appraised me for several long minutes. I saw the hesitation, but also that indomitable streak that I was growing to enjoy a little too much.
“And how do we separate the porch?” she asked.
I turned back to the little shelter, taking in the screen lining each side as I ran through everything we had available. I snapped. “I have an idea.”
With the sheet hung right through the center of the door, it left ample room on each side to leave our clothes and towels where they would stay dry.
Morgan’s small feet were visible just under the edge of the fabric, and I tried not to think period as her purple blouse fluttered to the porch floor.
As soon as her skirt dropped too, I eased out the side in just my boxers, the second bottle of camping soap in one hand.
On the other side of the porch, Morgan let out a surprised shriek.
“Cold?” I called.
“Yes,” she huffed.
My lips pulled into a smile. “But at least it’s not hot.”
Her exasperation echoed even over the rain. “Very funny, Ryder.”
Chuckling under my breath, I shucked the remainder of my clothes, slipped under the cooler water running off the metal roof, lathered up and washed fast. It was cold.
But that wasn’t a bad thing.
I could hear the soft swish of water nearby and forced my mind away from the very enticing mental image of Morgan naked and wet.
There was another rather pressing concern. Like the colorful missing persons ad on the newspaper in town. A missing persons ad for Morgan.
It was a worry she did not need. One I did not need.
My primary concern was keeping us away from Giroux and my father. Not her estranged parents. But by her family plastering her face all over town, it made us sitting targets whenever we left the house.
We would have to limit our time around the city. And as soon as we could, we needed to hit the road again and put some distance between us and Salem.
Clean, I hastily washed my boxers using the soap, rung them out, and hung them on a pipe that ran under the overhang of the roof. Climbing back onto the porch, I snared my towel and fastened it around my hips.
It was getting darker, and I knew visibility would soon be nil. I still had to get the air mattress pumped up and we would need to eat. But the water had cooled off my skin. Taken some of the fever of being alone with Morgan.
I dried and dressed in the loose shorts from the second used clothing store. They were a bit bigger than I wore, and they hung low. But it was too hot for jeans, and I couldn’t sleep with them on. Though, as tired as I was, I could probably sleep in concrete pants.
There was the soft squeak of old wood and the gentle patter of water as Morgan climbed back on the porch too.
“I’m headed in,” I told her. “You good?”
“Yes,” she replied simply.
Nodding to myself, I stepped up into the kitchen and went to finish getting things ready.
Chapter 5
Morgan
After drying and dressing in the silk top and shorts from the store, I stood on the back porch for a long time, gaze fixed on the still open barn door.
There had been nothing inside earlier. No human or supe. Nothing but a few empty, waterlogged boxes and old tools. But I appreciated Ryder’s thoroughness. His willingness to check anyway.
Perhaps it was lack of sleep. Or the worry that we had indeed been followed. Maybe it was only the ghosts of my past catching up again, but I would have sworn any oath that I had seen that white glimmer.
“Hey, Mor?” Ryder’s easy use of my nickname sent a delicious tendril of heat into my stomach. “You hungry?”
“A little,” I called and bent to bundle up my school uniform. There was another flash of white out of the corner of my eye and I stood fast, heart racing wildly.
But the yard was clear. The barn door exactly as it had been.
And yet, the weariness would not ease. The sensation of being watched would not abate. Fumbling with my clothes, I hurried into the house and stopped.
Ryder glanced up from where he was laying out slices of bread on two metal plates. “Strawberry or grape jelly?”
Heat went from the tips of my toes to the top of my head in a dizzying wash.
He wore a simple pair of matte black shorts, the waist hung low over defined hips, and nothing else. My eyes trailed upward without my permission, spying strong muscle in his stomach and chest. His arms acted as a perfect frame for so much velvety tan skin.
My knees went a little weak and thirst scorched my throat.
“Morgan? You okay?”
Turning my head fast to hide the light I knew would be coloring my eyes, I rolled my clothes up and stuck them in an empty grocery sack. “Strawberry is fine.”
“I know it’s not a lot tonight,” he said as he made the sandwiches. “But my cooking skills are slim. I can grill okay and ordering pizza is in my wheelhouse.” His steps were soft as he held a plate under my nose. “I also make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
My lips curved and I took the plate, careful to keep my gaze riveted on the floor. “It’s fine. Really.”
He said nothing, merely walked to the counter and grabbed his own plate before stepping from the room.
I remained in place, fighting down my instincts.
It was more than Ryder’s humanity, or his beauty. I was a transitioning vampire. My thirsts were wild, both bloodlust and the need for touch. I was attracted to Ryder in every sense of the word, but I had no experience beyond a few glorious kisses with Ames.
My betrothed’s name was like ice along my spine. It pushed back the heat inside me, replacing it with pain. Anger.
For someone that confessed to loving me, he had lied for so many years. Let me believe …
Shaking my head hard to clear it, I trailed Ryder across the hall. I would not dwell on it. Not now.
The soft patter of rain outside was soothing through the cracked windows, and an occasional cool breeze filled the room. Ryder had found a steel pail from somewhere and placed the crank up lamp on it. It cast a soft amber glow over the room, making it appear inviting despite the emptiness.
Ryder folded his large frame and sat on a stretched out towel on the wood f
loor. I took a spot several feet away as his scent mixed with the outside air.
Leaning back on one hand, he lifted his sandwich from his plate. “So, I figure we chill here for a few days. Rest, get our bearings, and then head south.” He took a large bite.
“South?” I asked softly, tugging a piece of crust from my sandwich.
Swallowing, he nodded. “It’s still late Summer. There are bound to be a few coastal places needing help for the season. And we won’t have to worry about Winter in Massachusetts.”
That made me smile. “But I like the snow.”
“That makes one of us,” he teased. Taking another bite, he chewed and swallowed before adding, “Besides, I don’t want to stay too close to Lokworth. Not for a few weeks at least. We need to let things die down. Give good ol’ Giroux and my parental time to start looking elsewhere.”
I set my plate beside me, sandwich nearly untouched as ash flavored my mouth. “And you don’t think they will head South?”
Ryder canted his head. “Dad will start with old haunts. Places we’ve been before. Safe houses and such.” His smile was all teeth, like a lion. “I’ve never even been to Salem.”
I wanted to join in his good humor. To shrug off the likelihood of Giroux finding me so soon. But he found me once. Eventually he would do it again.
“Hey. What’s up?” Ryder said, setting his plate on the floor next to him and sitting up.
My smile was tight, pulling at my face like shattering glass. “I guess I’m just waiting now,” I said honestly. “For Giroux to show up here. For my parents to find me.”
His hazel eyes glittered. “I won’t let them take you, Morgan.” Again there was a brief flash of ferocity in his face and eyes. I had only seen it once before. In an abandoned junkyard on the edge of Easthaven.
We had been cornered by human thugs and one of them had grabbed me. I was pretty sure Ryder had broken his neck, the motion practiced, easy.
A shiver of awareness rolled down my spine.
Sometimes, looking at Ryder, I wasn’t sure which of us was the actual predator.
Relaxing again like a wild cat in the grass, he stood easily and walked with his plate toward the door. “Eat, Morgan. We start your training in the morning.”
My eyes rolled up his body to meet his gaze. “Really?”
He reached out and brushed my damp hair behind my ear. His fingers were calloused, rough over my skin, but the touch went all the way into the center of my being. He pulled back and tossed me a grin. “Yep. And if you don’t eat and sleep tonight, you’re going to hate me tomorrow.” He walked out and I sucked in a breath of air as soft as I could before reaching for my sandwich.
“I could never hate you, Ryder,” I called.
“Say that after I kick your ass.”
Lips quirking, I took a bite of my sandwich and watched the rain outside. I could vaguely hear the soft sound of the bread wrapper as he made him another. His steady heartbeat was calm.
A distant creak tickled my ears, like that of a door.
I went still.
Setting my sandwich down, I climbed to my feet and stepped into the doorway.
The hall was long and wind blew in from the front door in damp gusts.
Ryder turned at the counter, spied me, and his lips parted to speak.
I held my finger to my lips and tapped my ear.
His expression grew hard. He nodded and slid the plate onto the counter behind him. Plucking the sharp knife he bought at the second hand store from beside it, he curled his fingers around the handle in a loose reverse grip.
He advanced on the doorway, each step carefully measured without making a single old board creak.
I watched him in awe, even as the breath of fear warmed my neck. He slipped out of the kitchen and into the hall. I trailed him, trying to mimic where he placed his bare feet. How his limbs flowed.
He checked the rooms one by one before making his way to the open front door. At the panel, he motioned me back into the shadows and gestured to his eyes and ear. I was to listen and watch. Nodding that I understood, I strained to hear beyond the rush of blood in my ears. He pressed against the open panel before peering cautiously out into the rainy night.
It took moments, but every rapid beat of my heart flavored my tongue in metal. In fear.
With slow motions, he closed the door, locked it. Walking back to me, we made our way toward the kitchen where he scoured both rooms we were using before closing the back door and locking it too.
He turned out the lamp, throwing the house into darkness. I could just make out his outline beside one window, the strong curve of his jaw, his drying hair.
Skirting the wall, I laid a hand on his arm slowly. So as not to startle him. But his heartbeat sped in my ears. “Sorry,” I breathed. “Anything?”
“Nothing that I can see, but the rain has visibility to shit,” he said, leaning back into me. His heat blanketed my front. “What did you hear?”
“A creak,” I whispered back. “Like footsteps over the floor. Or a door opening.”
“Well, whatever it was, it isn’t making itself known.” He pushed from the window and turned to me. In the darkness, he was all shadowed angles and his bright eyes. “Finish eating, we should turn in soon.” He slipped out of the room and ate his second sandwich in the kitchen, knife in hand.
I finished mine despite the cloying sugar in the jam. It was almost too sweet. Then again, maybe that was the leftover fear.
When we were both done, I quietly scrubbed the dishes using rain water and a drop of soap. It was a menial task, one I had little practice with.
My colony had people who cleaned for us, but I was not above doing my share too. Setting the dishes on a small towel to dry, I packed the bread and jams up and put them in a cooler to keep any vermin away.
Tiptoeing across the hall, Ryder was tucking a sheet over the plastic mattress before reaching for a thin blanket and laying it over top. “It’s probably too hot for it,” he said into the soft patter of the rain, “but I don’t know how cool it will get overnight.”
I looked from the mattress to his flexing back, heat rising into my cheeks. “Ryder?”
He lifted his head. “Yeah?”
“Is that the only bed?”
His eyes dropped, took in the thin blanket, and even across the space between us, his heart skipped in my ears. “Shit.” He glanced up and his face was darker in the shadows. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I genuinely didn’t think about it. An air mattress is more comfortable than cots …” He trailed off.
Nibbling my lip, I walked closer. “It’s fine,” I said, projecting confidence into my voice when my insides quivered. “It’s large enough for both of us.”
As I sat down on the slightly buoyant expanse, he moved several hasty steps back.
“Ryder.”
His sigh was a forceful expulsion of breath as he ran his hand through the thick mass of his hair. I tried not to stare at the way his body rippled and seemed stronger in the low light. But it was hard.
“I can take watch for a while,” he said, turning away. “Just in—”
“You slept as little as I did last night,” I said into the tension. “And we are both grown. We can share a bed.”
His head turned, giving me just a portion of his carved profile.
Hoping to make him feel more at ease, I laid down on the mattress, pillowing my head on one of the new pillows. The cool air coming through the windows was nice, easing the fire under my skin.
I could do this.
I could sleep next to him without wanting to kiss him until I lost myself in Ryder. I could lie beside him and not crave his blood. His touch. His body.
I forced my eyes closed fast and tried to focus on the soft drum of the rain.
His steps were loud then, each one seeming to echo as he slowly made his way to the bed. I willed my body to relax. To ignore his spicy scent. The dip of the mattress as he sat down gingerly on the edge.
Every poundi
ng beat of his heart was thick in my ears, so alive.
“Lay down, Ryder,” I said, voice soft to hide my lisp as my fangs punched into my mouth.
With another sigh, he stretched out beside me, his weight much more than my own, causing me to roll right against him.
Chapter 6
Ryder
Morgan went still, her cooler skin so damn soft. And the damn purple silk covering her was not helping my imagination or the desire she sparked. But I could put Morgan in a damn potato sack and she would be gorgeous.
She tried to push back and fell against me as the mattress gave again. My fingers slipped along her thigh, and her breath rasped inward on a sharp inhale as she scrambled back.
She didn’t get far.
Every move made the mattress sway and ripple. Her motions, normally graceful, were ungainly. Clumsy. My lips quirked and my heart pounded, but it took all I had not to touch her again.
Lying flat beside me with a frustrated exhale, her chest heaved out of my peripheral and I was pretty sure her eyes were slammed shut.
Shit.
“Sorry,” I murmured.
“Air mattresses are … interesting,” she finally said.
I wanted to groan. That was one way to put it. “Yeah.” It was all I could come up with.
When we stopped at the store, it was what they had. From experience, I knew an air mattress was more comfortable and I wanted Morgan to be able to sleep. I hadn’t given thought to sharing the bed. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.
She turned her head and tilted her chin back to look at me. A faint hint of lilac light spun through her irises, the color soft but luminous. “Your heart is going very fast, Ryder. Are you okay?”
Right.
Vampire.
Flushing, I laid my arm over my eyes and blocked out her pretty upturned face.
To be perfectly honest, I was kicking myself hard mentally.
With her so close, I wanted to roll onto my side, grip her waist, and kiss her again. I wanted to hear that sexy inhale when my mouth was on her skin. When she was touching me like I desperately wanted her to.
Instead, I controlled my breathing by counting each inhale and exhale. My mind calmed and then went blank. It was the same static field I had used for years on hunting missions. My heart slowed and when I opened my eyes, I was calm again. In control.
