Out with a Fang

by Jessica Sims

  I’d deal with that tattooed vampire later. I had his scent now, and I’d be able to pick up his trail if he didn’t get into a car.

  I padded to Michael’s side and placed my damp nose against his skin. Flushed with heat. That wasn’t good for a vampire. The garlic must have given him a fever.

  I touched him with the tip of my tongue. He was still unconscious, his hair spilling over his forehead and sticking to his skin in sweaty spikes. His eyelids fluttered rapidly, his breath rasping, quick, and shallow.

  I nudged him. He didn’t move. Another low moan escaped his throat. He was in pain, and my heart clenched in response.

  Shit. I couldn’t leave him there. What if humans found him? I couldn’t take him to the local Alliance doc; he only treated shifters. And if one vampire was looking for him, there might be more. If I left his side, he’d be vulnerable.

  I looked at Michael’s big body, slumped on the concrete. I could probably carry him in my human form, but that would draw too much attention, given our sizes. Maybe I could find someplace safe nearby. Then I could leave him and scout out the area.

  The vampire couldn’t have gotten far, and I wanted to know what exactly this “bounty” was about.

  I dragged Michael a short way and then got him onto my back—no mean trick without hands, let me tell you. It wasn’t easy keeping him balanced there, and he was probably going to have knuckles full of gravel when he woke up from his hands dragging on the ground, but I made it a few blocks away from the restaurant. My progress was slow, but I knew the area well. With some creative thinking, it wasn’t too hard to keep out of sight, going down alleys, cutting through overpasses, and keeping to the shadows. I was spotted once or twice, but most people rubbed their eyes and stared, not believing the sight. There might be some odd calls to the police, but I’d be long gone by the time a patrol car got there.

  I kept my head low, looking for a safe place to bunk down and check out Michael’s injuries. My night vision showed me a massive, looming building in the distance. The old abandoned meatpacking plant. It sat in the heart of Fort Worth, a ghastly eyesore that was only opened up at Halloween to run a haunted house.

  I circled around to the back of the building, where the shadows were heavier, and dropped Michael off in a dark corner. I paced around the side of the immensely long structure, examining the rows of windows. I had no idea how protected the building was. If there was security, we’d be toast.

  Well, there was only one way to find out. I flung my jaguar body through a lower window and waited.

  No alarms. Perfect. I jumped back out the window again, shifted quickly to my human form, cleared the glass, and proceeded to shove Michael through the window.

  Haunted-house props littered the bottom floor, so I carried Michael deeper in until there was nothing but broken equipment and storage crap, all covered in a thick layer of dust. I laid him in the corner of the room behind a couple of empty cable spools. He was still—too still. I hesitated, then forced myself to get up. I had to make sure he was safe first.

  Since I’d carried him through the old warehouse and through most of the city, anyone looking for him wouldn’t find his scent unless they were practically upon him. That was good. I dragged props and crates around him, making a small fortress to protect him. He’d be safe there, as long as we hadn’t been followed.

  In case we had been followed, I transformed back to my shifter form and paced through the inside of the old plant, leaving a scent trail that crossed and crisscrossed itself to confuse any trackers. Vampires couldn’t track by scent, but I didn’t trust anything to chance. Then, when Michael was as protected as I could make him, I slipped out the window and headed back toward the alley. I needed my dress, and I needed to scout the area for answers.

  The alley was choked with the thick, spicy scent of the tattooed vampire, who had indeed returned. I clung to the shadows, my tail twitching as I watched my prey.

  The vampire had a phone raised to his ear, and he squatted to pick up my dress. “You didn’t tell me he was with a big goddamn shifter,” Tattoos said.

  “I didn’t know. He must be getting desperate for blood,” said the voice on the phone. “Angelo’s got him on the run. Serves him right.”

  Tattoos snorted. “It’s not his fault Mariah’s so hot for him.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” the phone voice said curtly. “Angelo still wants him dead. You said the shifter ran off with him? See if she’s abandoned him nearby. Look for clues.”

  “I’m not Scooby-Doo,” Tattoos muttered, pulling a gun out of the waistband of his jeans and glaring down the alley.

  A gun? Damn. I sprang away, climbing up a nearby awning and then jumping to the top of a building. I circled back to the abandoned warehouse slowly, thinking hard. Someone named Angelo wanted Michael dead. What was I supposed to do with that information?

  I slipped back into the warehouse and padded to where I’d left Michael. His scent was thick and strong, mixed with garlic. It made the spice in his vampire scent turn sour and wrong. Garlic was a poison for the undead, and Michael had gotten a massive dose.

  He was delirious and weak, his eyelids fluttering as I crouched next to him and shifted back to my human form. I leaned over him and pressed my fingers to his forehead, gauging his temperature. Still hot and damp with sweat. What was I supposed to do with a sick vampire?

  Michael’s eyes opened, so green they almost glowed in his flushed face. To my surprise, he reached out and gently touched his fingers against my cheek, then traced my jaw.

  “Dreamed of this,” he murmured. “So beautiful.”

  Then his eyelids fluttered shut, and he went limp, leaving me alone, naked, and very, very confused.

  Chapter Three

  Throughout the night, Michael twitched and shivered, caught up in the throes of the poison. I could smell garlic seeping from his pores as he sweated, delirious.

  I paced, feeling helpless, my thoughts a confusing swirl.

  Michael is here.

  Michael is a vampire now.

  And vampires aren’t off-limits to shifters. I felt a flutter of hope and quickly squashed it. He’d had four years to hate me. Our reunion had been horrible, and when I’d accused him of messing with me, he hadn’t denied it. He’d been deliberately cruel.

  But he’d touched my cheek so tenderly, had whispered, “Dreamed of this,” when he’d seen me. What did that mean?

  Even though our blind date was worse than awful, seeing him tossing and turning in the moonlight brought all my emotions back to the surface. I couldn’t abandon him. Not while he was vulnerable and alone and hunted. I knew a thing or two about hunting and protecting. That was my job, after all. I could protect him until he was back on his feet.

  Provided I could find some clothing, of course.

  I prowled through the broken-down plant, looking for something to cover up my nudity, but there was nothing. The tattooed vampire had taken my dress and my purse, and I was essentially trapped with no wallet, no cell phone, and a vampire who was delirious with fever.

  All in all, not a great date.

  I crept over to his side again, worrying about the dawn creeping through the nearby windows. I’d moved him to the darkest corner of the warehouse and arranged tarps over the stacked crates to give him a shelter from the sunlight, but what if it wasn’t enough to protect him?

  It wasn’t. Although the sun wasn’t hitting him directly, as soon as light filled the windows, his tossing and turning became more frantic. Sweat beaded on his skin, and his breathing came in harsh, shallow pants.

  I stroked a hand over his forehead, concerned.

  His eyes flew open, his pupils dilated to pools of black. His lips parted, and his fangs elongated, growing to four times their size. I stared at them in revulsion. Movie vampires had tiny baby fangs. The reality was more like a goddamn saber-toothed tiger.

  “Just what we needed,” I muttered to myself.

  At the sound of my voice, his eyes rolled ba
ck in his head, and his eyelids fluttered, his body arching as if in pain.

  “Michael?” I laid a hand to his cheek, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

  He turned toward my wrist, and his nostrils flared like a shifter’s did when on a scent. Did he smell my blood? My skin prickled with alarm, but he didn’t move. The pulse in his neck fluttered weakly, and his mouth went slack. His lips looked cracked, and even the sweat that had been rolling off him was drying.

  This wasn’t good.

  His tongue touched his dry lips, and I heard the barest hiss of a word. “Blood.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut . . . and pushed my wrist against his mouth.

  This time, he bit down.

  The pain was excruciating. It felt as if twin nails had been hammered through my wrist; I could feel his teeth scrape my wrist bones. I jerked, trying to pull away from the pain shooting up my arm.

  He wouldn’t let go, though. His hands locked around my wrist, and he began to drink, each pull feeling as if he was sucking on a straw. I jerked again, but he was strong in his need, his skin hot and dry against my own. This was not worth it.

  Except . . . that sick flush in his cheeks seemed to be fading a little. The fevered chills were gone. He wasn’t moaning with pain from the sun any longer.

  I gritted my teeth, prepared to endure it for his sake. I supposed I owed him that much.

  Michael continued to drink as if instinct had taken over to save his life. I let him, occasionally reaching over to stroke his hair.

  Even as a weird, undead, saber-toothed vampire, he was still incredibly beautiful to me. My heart swelled with longing, and I smiled down at him.

  The room tilted and wobbled, just a little. Lightheaded. He was taking too much blood. I tugged at my wrist. “That’s enough.”

  He continued to drink, his throat flexing with each gulp.

  “Michael,” I gritted, bracing my other hand against his shoulder and pushing. When that didn’t work, I tried yanking at his fingers, still locked around my wrist. “I said, that’s enough.”

  But he was beyond hearing me. I had to stop him before he killed me.

  I placed one foot against his jaw and pushed hard. His teeth finally came free, and he flew backward, his fangs gouging my arm. I cried out in pain and clutched my wrist to my chest. Ow.

  He landed in a pool of weak sunlight, and his skin immediately began to smoke. I groaned and dragged him back to the shelter again. My wrist was bleeding profusely, so I ripped a strip from his shirt for a bandage.

  “Totally crossing vampires off the dating list,” I muttered as I bound my wrist.

  —

  The day passed slowly. As the sun grew higher in the sky, the warehouse became oppressively hot. I didn’t mind it, because of my cat nature, but I did mind the stagnant, dirty air. Michael’s phone was nowhere to be seen, and I didn’t even know if he carried one. Mine had been taken with my purse, so we were effectively stranded. I longed to go check on my apartment, to see if they had raided it after discovering my purse, but I couldn’t exactly cross town naked—or in my jaguar form. I could get away with being a big cat in the night when the shadows hid me, but in the daytime, people tended to call animal control on you.

  Plus, I was tired. I’d been up all night watching over Michael, and my strength was sliding away. I curled up near his body and catnapped through the day, waking at the slightest sound. Shifters had incredibly keen hearing, so I’d be alert the moment someone came near the building.

  I woke up late in the afternoon to the sound of a rat scurrying over the floor in the next room. I sat up, and my stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in almost a full day. The rat moved again, and my stomach rumbled once more in response, reminding me that if I was in my cat form, vermin made a nice snack.

  I decided I’d go without for a bit longer.

  I did shift to my cat form to do a quick reconnaissance of the area while waiting for the sun to go down. No new scents in the area—good. Our hideaway had yet to be discovered.

  I returned to Michael’s side as soon as the last of daylight disappeared. Not wanting to startle him, I shifted back to my human form and waited for him. Would he wake up? What if he’d died while sleeping? I placed my hand to his forehead, which felt cool to the touch. That was a good thing for vampires, right?

  At my touch, his entire body jerked, and his eyes flicked open. He grabbed my bandaged wrist before I could pull it away. His nostrils flared, and I watched his teeth extend out of his mouth, as if the very scent of blood made him lose control.

  I twisted my wrist in his grasp, gently but firmly. “Let go of me.”

  He did so at once, his dilated eyes blinking rapidly. Then his teeth retracted, and he looked at my face for a long moment, as if struggling to comprehend where he was.

  “You’re awake,” I said, hiding my relief.

  His gaze slid to my bare breasts. “You’re naked.”

  “Long story. We can get to that after you tell me why you’re being chased by a bounty hunter.”

  He continued to stare at my breasts, as if entranced by their close proximity and their free-hanging state. “Bounty . . . hunter?” he repeated slowly. His fingers twitched, and I wondered if he was wanting to reach out and touch me.

  The thought made unwelcome heat flare through my body, making my nipples tighten. I snapped my fingers in front of my face. “Eyes up here.”

  He broke from his trance, looking up at me. Then he looked a bit chagrined. “Sorry. You were saying . . . bounty hunters?”

  I nodded. Would it be totally obvious if I pulled my long, curly black hair over my shoulders to cover my breasts? Probably. I resolved to ignore his fascinated gaze, which was even now creeping back to my naked body. “Do you want to tell me why other vampires are trying to kill you? It’s put both of our lives in jeopardy.”

  He frowned, thinking, and sat up in the little fort I’d made him. Michael ran a hand down his face. “All I remember was heading down the alley. Someone jumped down from the roof and landed on me and jabbed the needle in my throat. I think we struggled. The last thing I remember is pain.” He grimaced, placing his hand on his neck. “Lots and lots of white-hot pain.”

  “So you don’t know who he was,” I stated.

  “No.”

  “Or why he came after you?”

  This time, he was silent.

  “You do know why he came after you?” A surge of irritation flared through me. “What were you thinking, going out on a date in public if you knew someone was hunting you? How could you put my life in danger like that?”

  “I didn’t know that part,” he said, raking a hand through his hair and making it stick up like a sexy tumbleweed all over again. “I didn’t know that Angelo was actively seeking to have me eliminated because of Mariah’s infatuation.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, both gratified and annoyed that his gaze immediately went there. “Who are Angelo and Mariah?”

  “Other vampires.”

  “The ones who turned you?”

  “No, the one who turned me was Gemma.”

  A pang of pain shot through me. A woman had turned him? “But you know why you’re being hunted?”

  “Angelo wants Mariah to be his blood partner.” At my blank look, he continued. “Blood partners are a symbiotic couple—they need nothing but each other and can feed on each other eternally. Mariah doesn’t want that relationship with Angelo, and the best way to send a message that you’re not interested? Acquiring a blood partner.”

  “You?” I guessed, my tone scathing.

  I could have sworn he looked a little bothered. “Not everyone finds me as repugnant as you do.”

  Repugnant? Did he really think that? Flustered, I pulled my hair over my breasts, not caring if the move was obvious. “So this Mariah wants you to shack up with her, and her wannabe boyfriend is trying to kill you?”

  He nodded. “A blood partner is greatly prized, and Angelo’s had his eye on Mariah for
a long time. I guess he feels that he’s put in enough time that he doesn’t want to lose her to someone else. I don’t think it’s love as much as pride.”

  “And did you sleep with this Mariah?” I asked, and then was glad the darkness hid the uncomfortable flush on my cheeks. Why did I care if my ex-boyfriend slept with some skanky vampire chick?

  “I have never approached her,” he said in a low, soft voice. “Never had any interest at all, never encouraged her. Nothing. This is all Mariah. I changed my name and went into hiding, figuring that if she had a few decades to forget about me, then I could reenter vampire society, but she is making things . . . difficult.”

  “I’ll say,” I said. “And this Angelo guy, is he powerful?”

  “He’s the head of the vampire clan in this area.”

  “That’s a yes, then.”

  An awkward pause fell. After a moment, Michael peeked up at me again. “You saved my life? How?”

  The gleam in his eyes was a little disconcerting. Was that affection? Lust? Unrequited love still burning after four long years of misery? Or was I just imagining it?

  “I heard you gasp, and something told me to check it out. So I did what anyone would do—changed to my shifter form and scared him off.”

  He reached out to brush a stray curl off my shoulder, his cool fingertips gliding over my skin. “Not anyone. He could have hurt you.”

  “Actually,” I said in a light, breathless voice as his fingers moved down my bare arm, “he probably couldn’t. Apex predator and all.”

  Michael snatched his hand away from my arm. “Of course. Were-jaguar.” He glanced around the warehouse. “And you somehow managed to bring me here?”

  “I did,” I replied firmly, wondering why it bothered me so much that he’d jerked away as soon as the were-jaguar thing was mentioned. I mean, heck, he was freaking undead, and you didn’t see me panicking and going all to pieces, did you? No, you did not.

  “I owe you a debt of gratitude,” he said in a soft voice.

  I squirmed a little, uncomfortable at the thought of him owing me. Me, who had kept secrets and stomped on his heart. “Don’t be ridiculous.”