She glanced away, then back at him. “I could.” She paused, gathering her thoughts into something coherent. “Feeding is intimate. It involves contact, you know? And when I meet these people every day, the thought that I’ve latched on to their necks makes me, I don’t know, uneasy, I guess.”
He laughed. “You won’t be feeding from them the way you feed from me. But you can make it less familiar. Take from the wrist or from behind. You don’t need much. How often do you do it?”
“About once a week.”
“More would be better at your age. As you get older, the sanguinius increases its efficiency. You don’t need as much or as often. You’re young in our terms. Once a day would be better for you now.”
She bit her lip, knowing he was right, but unwilling to do it. Feeding from her neighbors didn’t seem decent. “Maybe.” To change the subject, she turned around and took his hand. “Let’s go upstairs. Missy will lock up.” She paused to pick up her ruined jeans. She’d drop them in the trash tomorrow, but she didn’t want anyone finding them here.
He allowed her to lead him up to her apartment and through the bedroom to the shower. When he saw the size of her place, his brows rose.
“Our parents didn’t leave us destitute,” she said. “We own this block. It’s four boutiques and the bar. The tenants only use the first floor, so the rest is ours.”
“I like it.” The spacious living area gave way to her rooms on one side and Drew’s on the other. That way they could have their own place and yet continue to share.
“Thanks. When my dad left, we sold the house and bought this instead. It suits us better. We’re not poverty-stricken.” She quirked her lips. “By your standards maybe, but we do okay. If the bar fails, we won’t starve. Not for a few years, anyhow.”
“I assumed—”
“We keep it quiet. The people who rent the stores downstairs do it through an agency, and we don’t ask many people up here.”
He held her hand, and she kept moving. Tiredness filled her now, and she didn’t want to sleep alone. Or linger here, but her innate courtesy made her ask if he wanted anything. “A coffee, a drink? Maybe a sandwich?” She nodded to the dimly lit kitchen area.
He ignored it. “Only you.”
She needed no more prompting, but led the way. He helped her out of the rest of her clothes, stripped, and joined her in the roomy shower, but he didn’t do anything more than wash her. He rinsed her hair for her, an indulgence she was coming to crave. “You should have been a hairdresser. Or a masseur.”
“You pick up tricks and techniques along the way. Anyway, how do you know I wasn’t one once? I could have been one of those mulletted, floppy-shirted seducers of the eighties. The kind that charged the cost of a month’s apartment in Manhattan for a cut and blow dry.”
“Were you?” She could imagine him in a big shirt, kind of, but the hairstyle—no. He wouldn’t have done that, surely.
His chuckle told him he’d picked up her thoughts. “As if I’d tell you. I’ve done a bunch of stuff, spent years dedicated to causes, more years drifting, a lot of time in the armed forces. Sometimes just getting as wasted as I could manage. Maybe I shouldn’t keep some of it a mystery. It’d take me a lifetime to tell you, in any case, and we don’t have that.”
All the time he brought it back to that—this affair wasn’t permanent. It was as if he were trying to teach her a lesson. Her father had told her about some vampires who loved for life. He’d believed he’d found it in her mother—before she’d left. Despite her father’s grief when her mother left, Lucille had to believe that was true, and hell, why not? Spending time with one partner would surely be preferable to a solitary existence.
She thought so. Maybe Jay didn’t. She didn’t have the nerve to ask him now or the stamina to listen as carefully as his answer deserved.
They exited the shower and dried themselves. She only towel-dried her hair, promising herself she’d style it in the morning, but she’d probably spend the day with it clipped back. Especially if for some unforeseen reason she stayed in bed later than usual.
Sharing her bed here seemed a bit strange. She never brought boyfriends home, hardly ever dated anyone from Taken, preferring to get her kicks somewhere anonymous.
Because she’d never felt for anyone the way she felt about Jay Trevino. The notion gave her a nasty jolt. Sure she was in control, but when he left, she’d hurt. She didn’t look forward to that part.
Naked, they got under the sheets, taking their own sides like an old married couple and coming together naturally, enjoying the heat of each other’s bodies. “I thought we were going nocturnal.”
“We are, but you need your rest. We’ll get up and eat in a little while if you want to.” He watched her, a gleam in his eyes that didn’t seem sexual. Or not purely sexual. “You’re tired. Is it what happened tonight?”
“Some of it. Yes, it is.” She didn’t kid herself that he meant the activities in the kitchen. “Did you suspect the Wheelers from the start, or was it what Nathan showed us that convinced you?”
He sighed and lifted his hand to run it through his hair. “Yes and no. I know Talents have gone missing from Houston, but it’s a big city, and it could hide more than one cell. I bought that place because I liked it, and I got the opportunity when the price was right, but then I started to watch the Wheelers. They never liked me, so I couldn’t get close enough to find out. Cell members live near each other or together. They’ve often formed bonds more intimate than friendship, or they seem to. If they’re PHR, they’ll have grown up with the same philosophy. The PHR has been going as an organization since the fifties, but before then pockets of Talent haters existed on a more informal basis. They didn’t pose too much of a problem until relatively recently, but sometimes families would have a thing going. Vampire hunters—slayers, they called themselves—went about wreaking havoc.”
“Ryan?” Few people were as upright as Ryan. True, he thought as all good Texans did that they’d be better off forming their own union. Preferably without the pesky neighbors to the north or the east or west interfering in what they decided. He attended church most Sundays and had a cordial relationship with the preacher. He gave to charity, took part in local activities, but he’d never, ever shown any sign of passion before tonight.
“Why did he get riled and break you up? If he were PHR, did he know how brave that was? Or how stupid?” Lucille said.
Jay ran his hand through his hair.
Any mortal getting in the way of two pissed-off vampires stood an excellent chance of ending up dead. If Ryan didn’t know what they were, that made more sense.
“We were well shielded, but even so, it goes to the evidence that he’s not involved. By showing animosity toward me, it got Nathan in with the Wheelers, closer than I’ve managed.” He stroked her hair. “I’m staying with you until we know it’s safe.”
She rose up on one elbow and leaned on his chest, gazing down at his face. “Does that mean you think Talents can mate for life?”
He covered her hand with his. “Don’t go thinking that, Lucille. We live too long for that.”
“Have you ever seen it?”
He stared at her, his eyes fathomless, his mind troubled. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve seen couples who’ve claimed they’ve been together for hundreds of years, but never any corroboration. People switch lives, sure. Some do it together. I never got to know any of them close enough for them to let me into their inner minds.”
“Not like us,” she said softly. “I feel so close to you. More than to anyone else, even Drew.”
He cupped her cheek. “In time we can seal the breaches we created in each other’s minds.”
She didn’t want to think of them as breaches. She’d opened to him willingly, happily, and she’d do it again, even knowing the heartbreak that could lie ahead. In such a short time, she’d felt happier than ever before—settled in an odd way because the sensation was accompanied by euphoria, which was one of the most
elusive emotions of all.
Chapter Nine
“Ryan?” An unaccustomed spike of alarm struck Lucille when she realized Ryan and not Jay was waiting for her outside her barn. “Did you want something?”
“Just to see you.” He stood as he always did, at ease, his thumbs stuck in the front pockets of his jeans. He watched her with a lazy appreciation she didn’t object to, but it didn’t send sparks racing through her body the way Jay’s regard did.
Dusk had fallen, but just before sunset, an odd sound had brought her out here to the barn, where she’d climbed the ladder and found a surprise waiting for her. A stray cat and her kittens. After scrambling down to find a basket, returning to the platform, and stowing her discovery, she’d accidentally knocked the ladder out of the way.
Remembering Jay’s warnings she had tentatively spread her mind and discovered Ryan’s. While the contact should have been cursory, impartial, she found herself lingering. She wanted to make sure she was right, but what she saw told her he was a mortal, with a mortal’s pattern.
His thoughts were a reassuring jumble. He was wondering what she was doing up there. But he had a concern about one of the horses on the ranch, and a guest was harassing him. He’d come out here to get some peace, and yes, to see her. Other notions churned around like the need to get his car serviced soon, the bachelor auction next month at a swanky Houston hotel that he’d been asked to do. More. She didn’t delve any deeper, but breathed a sigh of relief. While she’d never been attracted to Ryan and his persnickety ways annoyed her at times, he was basically a good, kind man, or she’d always believed.
“Can you get the ladder? I knocked it aside when I came up. I should have one permanently affixed, I guess.”
He smiled up at her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Lucille. Maybe I should just climb up and join you.”
She had no doubt he could. Alarmed, she said hastily, “No, I have some babies here that needed rescuing.”
“Babies?”
“Kittens and their mother. I don’t want Digger to find them.” The dog wasn’t vicious, but he was playful, and a bunch of furry, squirmy things might give him ideas she didn’t want to see put into action. The kittens were moving, at the exploration stage, and she daren’t leave them. Digger could climb a ladder if the incentive was strong enough.
“What do you plan to do with them?”
She hadn’t thought that far. “I don’t know, but they can’t stay here. Put the ladder up for me, will you? And stand back.” She was wearing a dress tonight.
After Jay had gone to the ranch to pick up a few items, she’d come outside, after promising him she wouldn’t quit the house. Well, the barn counted as part of the house as far as she was concerned. More accurately, it was an old, ramshackle building that had belonged to one of the stores, but nobody used it.
She and Drew claimed it, renovated it, and used it as extra storage for garden items. “I thought I heard something in the barn when I came out for a breath of air, and I found these. They must be over a week old, because their eyes are open. I’ve managed to get them into a basket.” She’d give them to Missy, or maybe let Jay take care of them. She didn’t even know if he liked kittens.
Showing mock reluctance, Ryan sauntered over to rescue the ladder and put it in place for her. “Call this a barn?” He gestured widely, a grin spreading across his face. His dimples appeared when he smiled, and she wasn’t sure he didn’t know that. Too cute. “I could fit ten of these into one of ours.”
“Probably.” Mustering all the dignity she could, she lifted the basket and carefully hung it over the edge, praying mama cat didn’t show any tendency to jump down. She might hurt herself. Luckily she was a good mother and decided to stay with her babies, who mewled piteously.
“Okay, I got ’em.” As he took the basket, it tilted in his hands, spilling its contents on to the barn floor. Kittens burst out in all directions, the mother chasing two who raced into a corner.
With a cry of distress, Lucille swung over the edge of the ladder, feeling for the rungs with her feet.
The worst happened. It tipped to one side and fell.
Her first thought was for the kittens, but she heard no pathetic cries. Only continued tiny mews and the increasingly agitated full-blown meows of the mother.
Below where she precariously dangled stood a hoe, blade up. If she dropped wrong, she’d land on it and hurt herself. Although she’d heal by the end of the night, it would render her weaker than she wanted to be at a time like this.
A hand touched her calf. “Let yourself drop. I’ve got you.”
As she slid into his arms, the skirt of her dress rode up. When her feet touched the floor, Ryan turned her and smiled down at her. His blue eyes gleamed with unmistakable purpose. “See? All safe.”
“But the kittens—”
“Fuck the kittens,” he said roughly and kissed her.
His hands were everywhere. The faster she tried to put herself to rights, the worse he got. He stopped her from restoring her skirt and copped a good feel of her ass, presently covered only with a pair of silk panties. At least she hadn’t opted for a thong, she thought wildly, trying to pull free. Not that his kiss was unpleasant exactly, but it was too crude and too sudden. She needed to find the kittens before Digger did, and Missy might let him out soon. He always used the yard around now. A thousand things crowded through her mind, but when she pushed against his chest, he gripped her tighter.
He broke the kiss to give a groan of need and mash his lips over hers again, thrusting his tongue deeply into her mouth. He didn’t taste right, not like the mouth she wanted, was learning to accept and yearn for. He tasted of beer. It was all wrong. He invoked nothing in her but a desire to get away. She’d kissed him before, but never like this, and never after having had a taste of someone else. The someone else.
“Am I de trop?”
The cool voice burst into their less than idyll. Ryan lifted his head and opened his eyes. His gaze devoured her, surprisingly hot, and then he turned to confront Jay. “You are, sport,” Ryan said. “The lady and I were just getting reacquainted.”
“Then I’m sorry to interrupt.” Jay bent and picked up a squirming black-and-white bundle. He held it carefully against his chest. “You might want to take care of the livestock.”
With a shove that took Ryan off guard, Lucille got away. Jay’s eyes narrowed, and at last his mind touched hers. Eagerly she responded. “I didn’t want this! I don’t!”
His mental voice was cool. “You’re fine. You never promised exclusivity.”
The words chilled her. True, they hadn’t, but he’d said he took an interest in one woman at a time. Therefore he was giving her permission to mess around. She wasn’t like that. She didn’t want to play the field. Now that she’d found him. She didn’t want to discuss what Ryan had done, or how it made her feel. Desperately she searched for a safer subject, one that didn’t reveal the depths of her feelings for Jay. He seemed to be distancing them, so she’d better follow unless she wanted to make a fool of herself and sob all over his chest. “Did you s-see Drew?”
“He’s fine. Discovered the library.”
That would explain why Drew’s phone call to her earlier was terse. Too eager to get back to his room full of books. A new room full of books. “Is he better?”
“Almost completely.”
She walked toward him, nearly tripping over another kitten. She picked it up.
“Did he try to hurt you?”
“No.” Now that the sun had dipped below the horizon, she was the equal of any mortal. The thought hadn’t crossed her consciousness. Ryan wouldn’t have taken it that far. If she’d said no, he would have accepted it. She was almost sure of that.
The light of a smile touched Jay’s eyes, but didn’t affect his mouth. “I found these in the barn, and I didn’t want Digger to get them, so I decided to collect them up and put them somewhere safe. But the ladder fell, and Ryan caught me.”
“Goo
d catch.” Jay nodded to Ryan. He squared his shoulders and walked forward, holding out his hand. “Sorry about last night. I guess the beer around here is stronger than I’m used to.”
Ryan’s brows arched in surprise. “Sure.” He touched Jay’s hand briefly, a gesture of acceptance for the apology. She didn’t imagine the flash of denial she read in her lover’s mind. Jay didn’t like Ryan. He’d continue the polite frostiness neighbors sometimes showed each other, even in Texas, where everybody tried to get along.
“Is your new employee working out?”
“I guess. I told my foreman to look after him. I can always use someone who knows his way around a horse and has the patience to cope with the visitors. Some of them get a mite overexcited. We tell them all the safety procedures, and then they try to break them.” He frowned. Ryan liked rules. He knew where he stood with them. He’d told Lucille as much last week when she’d suggested he have an extra beer. One for the road, he’d said, was a dangerous practice. He turned his attention to Lucille. “I wondered if you wanted to come to the Sauciere next week for dinner.”
Jay made his decision. He walked to her side and put his arm around her shoulders. “If Lucille goes with anyone, it’s with me.”
“That’s a bit Neanderthal.”
Jay blinked—the only sign he’d heard her, before he gave Ryan an affable smile. “Of course, if Lucille would rather go with you, I can’t stop her. It’s her choice.”
Ryan sent him a look that left Lucille in no doubt about what he thought about Jay’s climb-down. A man would claim his woman. Like a parcel from the post office, she presumed.
“It is my choice,” she said firmly. “I’m not a bone for dogs to fight over, so I’ll let you know, Ryan. Thanks for thinking of me.”
She pulled away from Jay and went kitten hunting. She wouldn’t have the men handling her like a package either.
The Thorndykes 1: Dispossessed Page 12
