“An Alliance vampire,” she clarified, then raised a hand to stave off my objections. “I know what you’re thinking, but when vampires join the Alliance, they have to sign strict nondisclosure and nonharassment policies. I assure you that he’s very safe.”
I rubbed the side of my neck. “You know, I’m not really sure a vampire is a good idea—”
“Well, you did mark ‘anything’ on your form,” Ryder said in a businesslike tone. “After this date, you can revise your form as you feel necessary, but until then, I think you should give him a chance.”
I sighed. It wasn’t Ryder’s fault, I supposed, but I didn’t like the thought. Undead was just kind of . . . not my type. “It’s fine.”
“Good!” Ryder pulled out a silk scarf and laid it on the table between us. “There’s another condition to this date that I haven’t told you about.”
Oh, no. “What?”
“He’s a little uncomfortable with the vampire thing. Says the fangs bother people, and they stare at his mouth when he talks. He says he won’t be able to relax unless you can’t see him.”
I stared at her, then at the black scarf. “You’re joking.”
This was going to be a literal blind date? I growled low in my throat.
“It’s just for tonight,” Ryder hastily said. “I know it’s a weird request, but he’s a really nice guy, and I’m going to be in the room the whole time. You’re a shifter, and you go by smell anyhow, right? So the blindfold thing should be trivial.”
“It’s not trivial,” I snarled. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“I wish I was,” she said with a patient little sigh. “But unfortunately, Valjean really wants you to wear this. I’ve got you two a private table at the back of the restaurant, and no one will see that you’re wearing it but Valjean. I promise you that it’s totally safe.”
“No,” I said flatly.
“He’s just nervous about his teeth,” she pleaded. Her eyes were wide, as if I were somehow being unreasonable. “You can understand that, can’t you? This is the first date he’s had in a very long time, and he’s anxious about meeting you.”
I wavered.
Sensing my hesitation, Ryder pounced. “How many Saturday nights do you get to spend with an immortal millionaire who wants to buy you dinner? Doesn’t it beat staying at home?”
She nudged the scarf at me.
Damn it. I stared at it for a moment longer, then glared at her. “He’d better be hot.”
“He’s gorgeous,” she assured me, standing up. “Come on. I’ll take you to your table.”
I clutched my tiny purse and, with Ryder at my side, approached the table as if it would bite. I sat with a thump, my heart hammering. She was right; the table was in the farthest corner of the room, dark and secluded and tucked away from the other tables.
My nostrils picked up the scent of the last couple who’d sat there—both human. No vampire in the proximity, either. I’d smelled two of them at Alliance meetings once; they had an odd, spicy scent that was impossible to get out of the nose. I’d have noticed if he’d been there. I set my purse on the table and put my fidgety hands in my lap.
Maybe I should back out. I wasn’t really ready to date again, even after four years. Michael had been perfect for me, except that he hadn’t been a shifter. If I was still thinking about him this much, I wasn’t ready to move on.
But backing out now would be rude. Maybe I was just being a chicken. Maybe this Valjean would be really nice.
But he was undead. I mean, I was desperate, but I didn’t think I was that desperate.
Ryder lifted the scarf toward me just as a human waiter set a glass of water on the table and smiled at me. He glanced at the blindfold, and his smile faded a little. “Are you ladies ready to order?”
I slid the glass closer, not making eye contact. I guess I was going to do this after all. My stomach quivered uncomfortably. “Not yet. I’m waiting for my date.”
He nodded and moved to the next table, his gaze flicking over Ryder again.
After he left, I sighed. “He thinks we’re weird.”
“Just tip him well. He won’t care.”
I glared at her as she handed me the blindfold again.
“I really appreciate you being such a sport about this,” she said, her smile evident in her voice as she covered my eyes with the blindfold. Combined with the dim lighting, it ensured that I wouldn’t be able to see anyone. Great.
“Okay, how many fingers am I holding up?” Ryder asked, waving her arm in front of my face and making her powdery perfume waft through the air.
I sighed. “One.”
“Three. Good. I’m going to be just on the other side of the room, so don’t worry in the slightest. This is all totally safe.”
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”
“Oh. Um.” She thought for a moment. “Just don’t drink a lot.”
So much for the thought of loading up on fortifying alcohol. I drummed my fingers on the tabletop, tempted to tear the blindfold away. If he had weird protruding teeth, I’d want to see that, right?
But I’d agreed to this, and Ryder was right—I was lonely. I didn’t have anything better to do tonight than curl up with a movie. The thought was depressing.
“Go get ’em, tiger,” Ryder said, and patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll be across the room if you need me.”
I’d heard enough cat jokes to last me three lifetimes, so I said nothing. I heard her shoes tap on the hardwood floor as she moved to the other end of the room. With my eyes covered, my other senses, already acute, flared to life. Someone at the bar was laughing in a low, husky voice that wobbled as if she’d had too much to drink. A man murmured in the drunk woman’s ear. I could hear the tap of Ryder’s fingertips hitting her phone as she texted someone. Heard another person drop a fork from across the room. Heard someone at the closest table—still a good distance away—whispering about stock portfolios. My sense of smell was heightened, too, although I was doing my best to ignore that. The scents of everyone who had walked past the table recently all mixed into an overwhelming cocktail that my brain couldn’t process without becoming overloaded, so I focused on small things. The sizzle of fajitas at a table somewhere in the room. That smelled good. Maybe I’d order that, provided I could eat anything while blindfolded. God, this was so stupid.
Well, it was just one date. I’d politely get through the evening, and then we’d go our separate ways, and maybe I’d date a nice were-hyena next.
Or maybe not. That was the problem with being an apex predator. Smaller creatures had dominance issues. When I’d been around other guys, they hadn’t been interested in a shifter who was dozens of times stronger and more dangerous in cat form than they were. It did terrible things to the male ego. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to play down my strength or pretend to be a simpering female to appease some guy’s insecure ego.
I’d never been able to just be me with a guy. I’d had to keep a distance on so many things, even with Michael. I hadn’t introduced him to my family when he’d asked. They were complicated, I’d told him. When he’d invited me to move in with him, I’d declined. I needed the ability to come and go as the predatory instinct struck me. I’d been such a shitty girlfriend to him, yet he’d been patient and understanding.
Until the day my father told me to end it with Michael, or he’d end Michael to protect me. It was Jayde’s idea to have him catch me in bed with another man, and she’d volunteered her sometime-boyfriend, Thad. Then Jayde had set Michael up, inviting him to go to my dorm that evening for a surprise.
He’d seen a surprise, all right. He’d thrown my key down, declared that we were through, and slammed the door. Seeing his face stark with betrayal had destroyed me. He hadn’t heard my sobs as he’d stormed down the hall, sobs that any shifter would have picked up. And I’d known that, even as I’d known it was for his own good.
I took a gulp of water, trying to dislodge the knot in my throat. Fo
ur years, and I still hadn’t moved past it. Maybe because I spent so much time alone at my job. In the slow moments, I thought about Michael. I wondered what he was doing. I had searched for him online at every social-networking website, but he was nowhere to be found.
Maybe if I could find him, his hair receding, his gut paunchy, in a picture with a wife and two kids, that would cure me of my obsession.
I scowled. How sad and pathetic I was to be mooning over a human—a human! Maybe I needed to be more like Jayde. At least she got around. And she dated everything—wolf, lion, tiger. You name it.
Well, I thought with a grimace, not vampires. Jayde drew the line at that.
I heard footsteps, then the swish of clothing that told me someone was approaching. The air shifted, and I caught an appealing new scent: spicy, with a hint of sweetness, mixed with the perfume of human flesh. I immediately stiffened.
My vampire date was here.
“Your hand,” a low voice murmured. There was an odd quality to his voice, as if it were somehow modified.
The fangs? Maybe he was newly turned and struggled with controlling them? I pictured a vampire with buck teeth and quelled the hysterical giggle that rose in my throat.
He waited, so I raised my hand and was surprised when he leaned over it to kiss the back of it. I felt the brush of teeth and jerked away.
“I wouldn’t bite you without permission,” he rasped, his voice a bare whisper.
“You’ll have to forgive me for being nervous,” I said dryly. “I’m not a fan of the blindfold bit.”
“Yet I appreciate the gesture.”
“You should,” I said, my tone sharp. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge. I’ve never dated someone who refused to let me see his face.”
I heard his chair being drawn out, and his clothing rustled as he sat down. His hand touched mine on the table, as if he meant to hold it.
I pulled away, noticing that his skin was cooler than mine. “That’s a little forward for a first date, isn’t it? How about we talk first?”
Man, vampires were weird, and I apparently had a handsy one.
“You look very nice tonight, Ruby.”
I tilted my head a little, puzzled. His tone sounded a little more intimate than a stranger’s should. Or was I just imagining things? “Thanks. I’d say the same to you, but . . .” I gestured at the blindfold.
He chuckled, and the sound made my body prickle with pleasure. Whoa. Down, girl. I’d heard that vampires could be very enticing, but that was . . . alarming.
An awkward silence fell again. “Tell me about you,” he finally said. “Please.”
Did he have a hint of a British accent? How had I missed that? I deflected, wanting to hear him talk more. “Oh, I’m just your average girl with a tail.”
He chuckled again. “I believe I’m supposed to ask for your ID to confirm that.”
I flipped my purse open, running my fingers over the cards in my wallet until I found one that had no raised numbers on it and offered it to him. “That’s either my driver’s license or my ID. Are my eyes open in the picture?”
“They are.” He sounded amused.
“Then that’s my Alliance ID.”
There was a moment of quiet. “Were-jaguar?”
“Yes,” I said, getting defensive. This was what usually made men run out the door. It was hard dating when your shifter side was at the top of the food chain. “Is that a problem?”
“No, just surprising. I’d have thought you were something smaller . . . softer. Like a were-bunny.”
I bristled. Who did this guy think he was? “Not funny.”
“Then I apologize,” he said in that same odd voice I couldn’t figure out.
“Uh-huh. I’d ask for your ID, but that seems useless, seeing as how I’m blindfolded.”
“Ryder has vetted it prior to our date. And the ID would do you no good. Vampires don’t photograph, and my sketch does not do me justice.”
“How can I confirm that you are one?”
“Give me your hand again, and you can tell.”
Despite my unease with him, I stretched my hand over the table, palm up. He’d have to place his hand in mine, not the other way around. There was that apex predator in me again, always needing the upper hand.
To my surprise, he placed his hand in mine and waited. His fingertips were cool against my skin, his scent enveloped me, and it was impossible to think that he was anything but vampire.
His thumb grazed the inside of my palm in a caress.
Startled, I jerked my hand away. Were all vampires so grabby? I resisted the urge to flick out my claws to scare him and instead put my hand in my lap. Be nice, Ruby. I cleared my throat. “How long have you been a vampire?”
“Four years. How long have you been a were-jaguar?”
I forced a smile to my face, still feeling a little annoyed. “I’ve always been one. Most of us are born shifters. It’s rare that anyone is turned.”
“I see,” he said in an odd tone.
There was something he wasn’t telling me, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was. It was as if he knew something I didn’t and was judging my answers according to that. I didn’t like it. Plus, the damn blindfold was driving me crazy. I tugged at the scarf. “Can I take this off so we can have a real conversation?”
“I would prefer you kept it on,” Valjean said. “As a favor to me.”
Again, that odd lilt that seemed to come and go. Something he’d picked up in Europe?
“Fine,” I said after a moment. “But I just want you to know I’m not enjoying this. I can’t get comfortable with my eyes covered.”
“I think you’ll be more comfortable around me with it on,” he said cryptically.
A twinge of sympathy shot through me. “If it’s about the teeth, I assure you that it’s not a big deal to me. I’m used to big canines hanging out of my own mouth.”
“Still, this is what I prefer. It allows me to feast my gaze upon you without worry.”
I squirmed uncomfortably, my nipples pricking at the thought. I hoped he didn’t notice that. I also hoped he wasn’t spending the whole evening staring at my boobs.
“You are very beautiful,” he said in a soft, husky voice that sent a shiver through my body. “Any man would consider himself lucky to be sitting in my chair right now.”
“Thank you, but I can’t date any man,” I said, a hint of bitterness in my voice. “I have to date Alliance.”
Awkward silence. Probably not the wisest thing to say. This is why you’re single, I could hear Jayde saying. You’re too hung up on that human guy. Forget him.
“So tell me about you,” I said, rushing into the awkward silence. “Is Valjean a family name? A nickname? Do you have a thing for musicals?”
“It is a name I chose. It seemed appropriate.”
“How so?”
“A man betrayed on all sides, forced to live a double life . . .” He trailed off.
“Betrayed?” I had to ask.
“It is a long story, and one for a different day.”
I rolled my eyes under the blindfold. This Valjean guy needed to get over himself. “Just thought I’d ask. It’s an unusual name.”
“Didn’t you know? Vampires assume new identities. It helps us break our ties with our old lives.”
There was something about him that bothered me, even as I found him appealing. I tilted my head, trying to put my finger on why his responses were unsettling to me. As I moved, I heard him inhale sharply across the table.
I froze. Was he turned on by the sight of my neck? My entire body tingled with alarm . . . and a hint of arousal. That my slightest gesture could turn a man on so much was bizarre and heady.
Not a man, I corrected myself. A vampire. That changed everything.
Perhaps I’d misunderstood his reaction, though. The blindfold made it difficult to trust my senses, since there was context that I was missing. As a test, I tilted my head further and brushed my long,
curling hair over one shoulder, baring my throat. I tilted my chin slowly, working over to the other side as if stretching.
I heard the barest hint of a groan, and he shifted in his chair, adjusting his clothing. As if it had become suddenly . . . too tight in one area?
That pervert! “Okay, that’s it,” I said firmly, getting to my feet. I tugged at the knot at the back of my head. “I can deal with a lot of things, but I’m not going to sit here in the dark while you’re getting turned on by this freaking blindfold—”
“Ruby, don’t—” the vampire began, his accent suddenly gone, his voice sounding oddly familiar.
I popped my claws, sliced through the fabric, jerked the blindfold away, and stared at my date.
Michael.
Chapter Two
When we’d first started dating, Michael had been this gorgeous, geeky god, and that hadn’t changed. Inky black hair covered his head in a rakish, thick swath. It was always a little too long on top, and when he dragged his hand through his hair, the black locks stuck up like wild spikes on top of his head. I’d been infatuated with those spikes; they made him look untamed. His face was as perfect as I remembered it, too—his cheekbones defined and arching, his brows dark slashes in an otherwise pale face, his jaw narrow but firm and currently clenched with anger. His eyes were beacons of pale green, and his mouth was full and sensual. He was every bit as muscled and hard as he was back when he was playing football in college. In the past, he’d always had a bit of a five o’clock shadow—that was gone now. His chin was completely smooth. He’d always had a tan in the past, too; that was also gone.
He was a vampire.
Michael was freaking undead. The blood drained from my face as I put things together. Four years, he’d told me he’d been a vampire. He must have been changed right after we’d broken up.
My gaze narrowed, and I focused on his teeth. There was nothing wrong with them. Nothing at all.
This date was all a setup. He hadn’t wanted me to see that it was him. He’d been sitting there, laughing at me as I was blindfolded and trying to act as if it was a real date. Disguising his voice so I wouldn’t be clued in that it was him.
The Undead in My Bed Page 22
