by Jackie May
Parker slides me a sideways smirk. “Then it’s a good thing Macy’s is at a mall, where there will certainly be several restaurants and an entire food court.”
“Haha. When did you turn into a comedian?”
“Maybe I’ve always been one, and you’ve just been too scared to get to know me.”
He looks at me again, a long, meaningful look that makes my pulse spike and urges me to lecture him about keeping his eyes on the road. “Would you watch where you’re going, please? Delicate human cargo, here, remember.”
His gaze turns back to the road. “I remember,” he murmurs under his breath.
Why does everything he says somehow make me want to blush? I have to clear my throat in order to speak. “So what’s so important you had to tell me in person and privately?”
He sighs, as if this is the last conversation he wants to have right now, but knows I won’t talk about anything else unless we get it out of the way. He’s right about that. “Do you remember, last month,” he asks, “when we got kidnapped by those dark magic users, and you had to feed me your blood so that I could escape?”
I snort. “Yes. I remember that. Feeding a vampire your blood isn’t exactly something you forget.”
Actually, most times it is something a human forgets because the vamp sucking their blood compels them to forget, but Parker didn’t compel me. I wouldn’t have let him, and honestly, I doubt he’d want me to forget that experience. The feeling I got when he drank from me was…euphoric and orgasmic.
I turn red again, my entire body heating up at the memory of being so intimate with Parker. His lips twitch as if he’s fighting a smile. He knows what I’m thinking about. That’s so embarrassing. I huff in exasperation. “Yes, I remember. And why are we bringing this up now?”
“There’s something different about your blood,” he says quietly, staring out at the highway. “It’s highly addictive. I’ve craved it since that day, and for the first two weeks I couldn’t drink anything else. I had to have Henry compel me to go hunt someone else.”
I rear back in shock, and a shiver races down my spine. Not a good shiver. “Seriously?”
He grimaces. “Yes, seriously. You aren’t human, Nora.”
“What?” That isn’t what I expected him to say.
“You don’t just have a little underworlder blood in you; you are an underworlder. A very strong one. One I can’t identify.”
The news is so shocking that I realize I believe him. If I didn’t, I’d be laughing right now. But I’ve always felt different from the people around me, and my gifts have to come from somewhere. It makes sense that I’d be an underworlder. I just have one small problem. “Every underworlder I’ve ever met has said I’m human, and underworlders can tell.”
“You’re wearing a glamour.” Parker squints at me until he’s forced to pay attention to driving again. “It’s so strong that even now, knowing it’s there and looking for it, I can’t see it.”
“If you can’t see it, then why do you think I’m wearing one? What makes you think I’m not human?”
“Because of your blood. Glamours wrap around a person like a cloak. They hide you, but they can’t change your blood. You are an underworlder, just one I’ve never had the pleasure of tasting before. I can’t identify your species.”
I sit back in my seat and digest this. I’m an underworlder. I belong in this crazy life I’ve stumbled into. But what am I? I don’t seem to have the power that most other underworlders have. I have gifts they don’t, and I’m physically weaker, like a human. I also don’t have the built-in radar for knowing the difference between humans and others. “If I’m such a strong underworlder, then how come I’m so weak? Yeah, I have some strange psychic powers, but I don’t exactly fit in with the monster crowd.”
“A lot of underworlders are physically as weak as humans, Nora. But in your case, I believe your glamour is suppressing your power as well as hiding what you are. I think you’re a lot more powerful than you realize. Your blood would suggest it, anyway. You can’t share it with anyone ever again. No matter what.”
I grind my teeth, not liking the tone in his voice. “Don’t lecture me like I’m a child. It’s not like I plan to make a habit of it. I only fed you because I had no other choice. I stopped Henry from biting me, and Josephine wasn’t exactly my fault. I can’t help it if your friends keep trying to kill me.”
Parker sags in his seat, feeling like shit. My words were too harsh. I’m angry about the vampire attack, but I know it wasn’t Parker’s fault, and I know he feels terrible about it. “Nora,” he croaks. “I’m so sorry.”
Now he’s apologizing for things that weren’t his fault. Don’t I feel like an ass? “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’ve already forgiven you for taking me to Henry. What he tried to do, and what Josephine did, is not your fault. I don’t blame you, and I’m not mad at you. Let’s not fight.”
Parker mulls over my words before slowly reaching across the console to drop his fingers on my forearm. I’m grateful he doesn’t grab my hand. He knows how much I hate that. “You’ve really forgiven me?” he asks.
There’s no mistaking the hope in his voice. I feel bad for putting it there. I hadn’t meant to lead him on, but I’m probably the queen of mixed signals where Parker’s concerned. It’s not my fault my body and my head want different things in his case.
I shrug as indifferently as possible. “I forgave you the night I met Director West and she freed me from Henry. You were out trying to find your missing friend, and I was not only hanging out with your main suspect, but I was acting suspicious. You did what you had to. I get it. No harm, no foul.”
Parker’s murmured thank-you is so soft it quiets us both, and we finish the drive to the mall in silence. Parker keeps his hand on my forearm, and I don’t move it. I should, because it’s basically the closest thing I can get to handholding if I don’t want to spend the drive in his thoughts, but I find his light touch comforting.
When we arrive at the mall, he parks in front of Macy’s and leads me straight to the coat section. I don’t even want to know how much the coats on these racks cost. Parker doesn’t seem to care. He wastes no time heading into the clothes and holding out ones he likes. I’m not surprised the man likes to shop, considering he dresses immaculately and looks like a GQ model.
“Oh, this one is lovely.”
He holds out a red coat that is, admittedly, very stunning. I give him a look as I shake my head. “If you can describe it as lovely, it’s not the coat for me.”
He waits a moment, then decides not to argue, and reaches for a white one. “White?” I laugh. “Are you kidding? I’d ruin it in a day.”
He puts it back and reaches for the same coat in black. When he cocks his brow, I still shake my head, pointing at the waist. “Nothing with a belt. That’s just ridiculous. I belt my pants, not my coats.”
He chuckles and wanders to another rack. I stand back, watching the man shop for me with amusement. He’s got great taste, but he’s completely missing my taste. He holds up a coat that would go to my knees with a hopeful expression. “Parker. No. That’s a dress, not a coat.”
He sighs. “It’s called a skirted swing coat, and it’s very nice, Nora. Have you ever owned anything nice?”
I laugh. “I grew up in foster care in Detroit, worked in a garage changing oil and tires, and lived in the slums. What do you think? I’d probably have been shot for a coat that nice where I used to live.”
He puts the coat back but doesn’t reach for another one. “Nora…” His face falls. “You deserve so much more than the life you’ve had.”
His comment doesn’t faze me. When it’s the only life you’ve had, you get used to it. “A lot of people deserve more than they have. And plenty have more than they deserve.” I shrug. “That’s just life. No use dwelling on what could or should be. Best to learn to be happy with what you’ve got.”
He holds my eyes with a steady gaze and says, “I admire you, Nora.”<
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I have to look away when my cheeks flush. I’m not one of those women who can’t take a compliment, but Parker has a way of taking intensity to the extreme. “Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing the nearest coat. It’s a puffy monstrosity that I’d never wear in a million years and actually recoil from when I realize what I’m holding. “Ugh. Who would wear this?”
Parker chuckles, and I’m grateful I’ve successfully relieved the tension between us. I can handle him a lot better when his mood is light. He picks up a stylish sleek black jacket next, and I sigh. “Don’t they have anything…I don’t know…badass? Something that says stay back, before I cut a bitch?”
Parker bursts into laughter. The sound shocks me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh out loud like that. He’s normally so reserved and serious. I’m kind of proud to have broken through his composure. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t take you for the tight black leather type.”
“Ugh. I’m not. First, that’s way too cliché, and second, I wouldn’t want Nick to think I’m copying his style.”
I roll my eyes conspiratorially, and Parker laughs again. Sadly, he’s gone back to that quiet chuckle. It’s nice, but not nearly as satisfying or sexy as his laugh. “I think you’re the only person in the world that gets away with calling him Nick.”
I smirk. “I am not calling him Gorgeous. That’s just ridiculous, and the man hears it way more than is healthy for a guy’s ego.”
Parker laughs again—a second real laugh—and I can’t help the proud grin that spreads across my face. I meet his smile with mine, and suddenly he’s right there, all up in my space, stealing the breath from my lungs and making my heart beat erratically. His eyes lock on mine, filled with so much heat that I gasp. “Parker.” I mean it as a warning, but I can’t quite make it sound like one.
He moves in closer. “I want you, Nora.”
Well, shit.
I gulp in some air and accidentally shiver. Our chests are touching now, but his hands are still at his sides, and he’s being very careful not to touch my skin with his own. Our mouths are just inches from each other. He refuses to break our stare, and I can’t. “I’m a desperate man,” he whispers. “Ease my suffering.”
He leans in. I don’t move. I’m not sure if that means I’m giving him permission or if I’m just too frozen with nerves to back up. His lips hover, just for an instant, over mine, so close I can barely feel them. Instead of pulling away, my eyes fall shut, and then, suddenly, Parker devours me in a heated kiss.
It’s the first kiss I’ve had in almost four years, and my body reacts as such. I push myself against him, and kiss him back.
His thoughts start out sweet. Her lips are as soft as I knew they would be, but she tastes so much sweeter than I’d dreamed. I’ve wanted this kiss since the first night we met. I can’t believe she’s honoring me with it. I didn’t think she ever would.
He nudges my lips with his, and in my daze, I progress the kiss to an openmouthed one but don’t open up enough to let him deepen it. I’m not ready for that.
Feeling me respond is enough to send Parker’s thoughts in a much lustier direction. He can’t help himself. He’s wanted this—me—for too long. He really is desperate for me. He wants so much more than a kiss.
I see in his mind all the things he wants to do with me. His thoughts quickly spin into intense fantasies. His body responds to the images in his mind. He wraps his arms around me and pushes the kiss deep, and suddenly I’m not kissing Parker, but I’m back in the arms of my one and only boyfriend—the one guy I ever risked giving my heart to. Only, he’d taken my body instead, despite my begging him to stop and my efforts to fight him off.
He’d been dazed afterward and claimed he didn’t know what had happened. He said I put him in some kind of trance. I believed him, but he’d still hurt me, and I couldn’t stand to be around him or even look at him anymore. After that, I figured because of my power—my curse, whatever it is—I’d never be able to be in a relationship. That was the day I’d sworn off dating forever.
Parker’s arms around me now feel like a cage, and his tongue in my mouth makes me choke with fear. I can’t breathe. I can’t remember where I am. I just feel my ex-boyfriend pushing me down on the couch and taking what I’m not willing to give.
Panicking, I start to thrash and hit the person holding me. Parker releases me immediately, but it’s too late. The damage has been done; I can’t calm down. I scramble away from Parker, trying to regain some sense of security. I push my back against a wall and reach for the small, thin ash wood stake in the sheath attached to my belt. It was a gift from Terrance after Josephine attacked me. I’ve carried it with me at all times since he gave it to me, and it feels good to have it in my hands now.
“Nora?” Parker’s eyes bulge as he notices the stake I’m holding. He steps away from me with both hands up in surrender. “Nora, calm down. It’s okay. You’re okay. You can put the stake away. I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t touch you again.”
My eyes are still out of focus, and my breathing is so fast I’m on the verge of hyperventilating, but his low, steady voice breaks through my panic, and I start to calm down. It takes me a few minutes before I become fully aware again, and I’m shaking so hard my vision is blurry.
Parker, thankfully, doesn’t approach me. His eyes are on mine, full of regret. I glance down at the way I’m clutching a weapon specifically meant to kill him, and I’m overwhelmed by remorse. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. I put the stake back in its sheath. “I’m so sorry, Parker.”
“It was my fault,” he says. “I knew you had problems with physical intimacy. I pushed you too hard last time, too. I don’t know what happened. I meant to be so careful, but when you kissed me back, I lost control. Nora, I am so sorry.”
His words break my heart. “It’s not you,” I insist again. “It’s my power. That’s why I can’t date. My allure is too strong. It makes men go crazy. Especially if I want what’s happening.”
I crack a small smile, letting him know that I purposely admitted to wanting him to kiss me. I’m hoping my acknowledgement will make him feel better, but it doesn’t. He looks completely devastated. “At least you were able to stop yourself,” I say. “The last guy I kissed couldn’t. Not until the deed was done, anyway.”
I look away from him, hugging myself as I remember, again, my ex pushing me down. I’d been sexually abused before, but somehow what my ex did disturbs me the most because I had trusted him.
“What can I do?” Parker asks. His voice sounds strangled. “How can I help you?”
He can’t. The only thing that could help me is figuring out what I am and learning how to control my power.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm my still-racing heart. Parker’s waiting for instructions. I don’t know what to tell him, so I say, “Help me find a coat?”
He chews on this a moment before giving in with a nod. Turning back to the sea of clothes without a word, he pulls a moss-colored military-style coat off a rack. My face lights up. It’s feminine looking but still hard-core. I love it. “That’s the one.”
The mood lightens, but Parker and I never really get back the playfulness we had before our disastrous kiss. He keeps a good distance from me the rest of the evening, careful not to touch me at all or even get too close. I’m both relieved and disappointed at the same time.
When it’s time to eat dinner, he asks if we can skip the food court and go to a place nearby that he really likes. “As long as it’s not all fancy like the last place you took me to.”
He grins. “Actually, it’s a bit of a dive.”
“Sounds like my kind of place.”
We drive to the south end of Dearborn to a building that looks like a doctor’s office. It’s closed for the night, but Parker stops there anyway. “What are we doing here?”
“Look closely at the building.” He smiles at my confused frown. “You’re an underworlder. You should be able to see through a weak gl
amour.”
“That building is glamoured?”
He nods. “To keep humans away. Let your eyes relax and pay attention to the feel of it, then wait a second. If you concentrate, you should be able to shake off the glamour and see the building beneath it.”
I focus in front of me, trying to pay attention without really looking directly at the building, like he suggested. My eyes catch a glimpse of a ripple in the air, and when I look back there’s a dumpy-looking motorcycle bar in front of me where the doctor’s office was. “Holy shit!”
Parker laughs again. That’s three times now I’ve made him laugh. This time he’s laughing at me, but I don’t care. I love the sound.
The place is busy but looks rundown. It’s made of dirty old cement and has no windows out front. It’s long and skinny, with a row of motorcycles parked along a wooden walkway lining the front of the building. Sadly, none of the bikes are half as nice as Nick’s beauty of a machine. Eighties rock pours out the open door, and the neon sign above the place is half burned out, so instead of Skinny’s it just says Skin. I snort, wondering if they haven’t bothered to fix the sign because they find it amusing. “Classy place.”
Parker grins. “I told you it was a dive.”
“It’s perfect…as long as I survive it.”
Parker looks up at the place, considering. “You should be all right. Enough people know about the crazy little human now. Plus, you’re with me. Even if we got jumped by everyone in there, I should be able to get you out.”
I’m not sure if I want to comment more on the cockiness of that statement or his use of the word should. In the end, my need for food wins out, and I choose to worry about neither. “Whatever. I’m hungry enough I’m willing to risk it.”
Inside, the place is dim but surprisingly clean. A counter lines the back wall of the dining area, and a row of dark green vinyl booths runs along the front of the building. There’s not much room for anything else.
