We were silent for a moment. Then Connor asked for the address.
“We’ve got to lose the car.” I said as I flipped through various cop shows in my head and rubbed my eyes with my palms. Hiding from the hunters wasn’t going to be easy. First we needed to throw the Allu off our trail. “Let’s just leave it in front of my place. It wouldn’t be suspicious since they know I live there, and the Lady’s in no danger from the Allu. Then we can catch a cab nearby and have it drop us off a few blocks away from Nicolas’ house.”
“Are you sure this is all common sense?” Nicolas gave me a little smile.
I couldn’t find it in me to smile back. It was my fault I’d put a target on all of us. Going to Starbucks for coffee? I was an idiot. Now how to get out of this mess?
After another few minutes of silence, Connor declared he was going back home. He was willing to face the wrath of his father and family. None of them would let the Allu have him. He tried to convince me of the same thing, but I wasn’t ready to face the Putzkammers. They had given me so much, and I’d broken their trust. Maybe I shouldn’t have spots on my back. My belly should be yellow instead.
Connor dropped us off five blocks from the Reese residence. He gave me a tight hug and told Nicolas he would keep him to his word.
We didn’t talk as we hurried along the sidewalk and down another street. There were few streetlights and no activity in the neighborhood. Still, Nicolas took us to the house from the rear through a small copse of trees.
One light was on upstairs in the two-story Victorian house. I didn’t have to be told it was Mary’s room. Widows had a habit of sleeping with the light on.
Nicolas snagged a spare key from under a rock in the garden and crept down a set of stairs to the back door that went into the basement. He whispered not to step on the last step because it creaked loudly. I nodded and silently hopped down to follow him inside.
He stopped, and I ran into him from behind.
“She cleaned up.”
“Why would that surprise you?” I cautiously stepped around him to survey the dark room.
It was one large space. Plain walls with a few art posters tacked to them. A double bed sat to one side with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows. There was one lamp, a four-drawer dresser, and a big flat screen TV on the wall across from the bed. A beanbag chair sat in front of the TV and a wooden rocking chair huddled in a corner. A grandfather clock ticked in one corner next to a closet, and there was a small bathroom with no door.
“She never came down here. I knew where everything was. I may not have been the tidiest of people, but I had a system.” Nicolas walked slowly into the center of the room. He turned in a circle and then sniffed. “It smells like lemon cleaner.”
My first thought was that vampires were territorial beings, but humans were that way too. No one ever came down to my room except the Lady. Well, it wasn’t like I had any friends that would visit, and the guys wouldn’t dare come into the house. I liked having my own private space no one could disturb. This wasn’t the vampire Nicolas fussing over the fact his stuff was touched, but a guy like any other who didn’t want his mom nosing around in his things.
“It smells a helluva lot better than the room at the Flamingo.” I tried to make a joke, but my voice was too taut.
“But it doesn’t smell like my place.” Nicolas sighed and flopped onto the bed.
“And what did your place smell like? You were a druggie. I’m not picturing happy smells.” I didn’t want to imagine him lying in his own vomit or urine or not showering for days, but an addict was an addict. That was more likely to be the truth of it than not.
“Hey, I know that look.” He pointed at me and waggled the finger. “Don’t think you know what I was like. I was no druggie. I drank a lot, smoked a bit, but nothing until Hessa…” He shook his head and dropped his hand. “I was clean. I wore a lot of Boss Soul. Everything I owned smelled of it.”
“Boss Soul?” I cocked my head.
“It’s cologne. A little spicy with hints of cinnamon, mandarin and pepper. Love that stuff.” Nicolas hopped up and went over to the bathroom. “I hope there’s still some in here.”
“You sound like a commercial.” I chuckled softly. So he wasn’t a druggie even though his mom thought so. What had he been up to then if he wasn’t doing drugs? Of course my mind had to go to darker places.
Shaking off those thoughts, I realized something. “You know, there’re no windows, so it’s safe for you from the sun, but what about your mother? What if she comes down here during the day? There’re not a lot of places to hide.”
“We’ll figure out something if it happens.” Nicolas dismissed it and gave a little cry of victory as he found a bottle of his cologne. He grinned that gorgeous smile as he sprayed Boss Soul into the air and inhaled with a sound similar to ecstasy. “Smells even better now.”
“But aren’t you basically dead during the day? I’m strong, but I don’t think I could drag you somewhere fast enough to hide you.” Perhaps coming here wasn’t such a great idea after all. The last thing I wanted to do was terrify Mary. The poor woman had enough heartache in her life.
“Another myth. I can stay awake during daylight hours. I’m a lot slower and exhausted, but I can hide if need be.” He walked back to the bed and lay down on it again. Stretched out, it emphasized his long legs and narrow waist.
I could smell his cologne now. It was a great scent, masculine and fresh. Something stirred within me, waking urges I seldom experienced. I raked my gaze slowly down his lean body until I realized what I was doing. Why was I checking him out? It’s not like anything could ever happen. I wasn’t a one-night stand type of girl, and besides, he was a vampire. Sleeping with the dead? No thanks.
Sitting, Nicolas removed his jacket. His shirt rose, revealing a sliver of abdomen.
But damn, he was sexy. I was feeling warm, and it had nothing to do with me feeding.
“Come on. Take off your coat. Lie down. Get some rest.” Nicolas patted the bed beside him.
“I’ll stay over here.” I motioned to the beanbag chair and unbuttoned my coat. With the not so innocent thoughts that had gone through my mind, I wasn’t going to lie next to him.
“Oh, trust me, that’s the worst thing to sleep on.” He tapped the bed again, scooting to the left and lying on his side. “This is much more comfortable. I promise I won’t bite.” He flashed a grin. “Really, I won’t. You taste bad.”
“Great. A cute guy invites me into his bed and then tells me I taste bad.” I unwound my scarf and slipped out of my coat. I didn’t want to leave them in plain view, though. After a quick look around, I stuffed them under the bed.
And now I was beside the bed. Dammit. We were only going to sleep. Nothing was going to happen.
“Yes, I have the smoothest moves.” Nicolas chuckled. He waited until I was about to sit on the bed and then added, “So you think I’m cute?”
Oh god.
I immediately started to get up, but he tugged me down by the back of my shirt. I should have resisted, but I didn’t.
“I’m not immune to your charms.” I whispered and then shifted to lie on my back as close to the other edge of the bed as possible without slipping off. Just sleeping. That’s all that was going to happen here.
“That’s good to know, but I like to think this package was already stunning before I became one of the undead.” He rolled onto his stomach, a little closer to me.
“And were you this modest before you died too?” I stared at the ceiling. Exhaustion was tugging at me, and it was getting harder to resist. I could feel his body a few inches from mine. Not the warmth that one might feel from a living person, but a strong presence. One that pulled me no matter how much I tried to ignore it.
“I’ve been toning it down for you.” He joked with a laugh. It was a little loud, and the two of us remained silent for the next few minutes in case Mary heard it upstairs. When no one came down to investigate, he relaxed, but I couldn’t manage
to do so.
“You know, you never answered my question back at Starbucks.” His breath tickled my ear.
“Hm?” I turned my head, not even thinking, and found myself staring into his eyes. I hadn’t realized he was that close or that I could see specks of color in his irises even though the only light was the soft blue glow coming from the nightlight in the bathroom. Beautiful.
“What sort of demon are you?”
“I’m a Phage.” I nipped at my lower lip, not wanting to share more information. I doubted he would know what that was, though. It was a difficult thing to explain even among demons. “Means I’m a feeder of a certain thing.”
“What does that mean? I’m a feeder of a certain thing. I need blood to live.” He pointed out, and I had to admit it was a logical conclusion. Except vampires weren’t demons. They were unnatural creatures. Born maybe of a curse or some other black magic. There were too many old tales that the truth got lost over the millenniums.
“I don’t feed the same way.” I looked back at the ceiling. There was no need to expand on it. I shouldn’t be sharing anything with him, but my mouth kept moving anyway. “I feed on emotion. I feed on sorrow.”
Nicolas was quiet for a moment. He didn’t recoil or move away. I could feel him staring at me. I waited for his sarcastic or teasing comment. Instead, he gave me something different.
“Emotions. Huh. A friend who was into that New Age crap once told me emotions were energy. Maybe those hippies know what they’re talking about. And smart for you to be working at a funeral home. I’m sure that place is a buffet for you.”
I turned back to look at him. He understood. My heart pitter-pattered, light and hard at the same time.
So many times, other people didn’t understand. Okay, not many times. Few people knew what I could do. Yet sometimes they were a little freaked out I could feed on emotion. More than a little actually. It’s a highly personal thing; something I guarded fiercely. On a few occasions, people got angry. They shunned me and called me an energy vampire. Looking at Nicolas, it wasn’t that far from the truth. Maybe that’s why he got it so quickly and accepted it.
“Were you raised there with the Putzkammers? Did you always know what you were?” He rested his head on his upper arm, idly toying with his hair.
He accepted it. Did I not want him to? I didn’t know what I wanted right now. “No, I wasn’t raised with them. I only came there a few years ago. My mom raised me, and yes, I’ve always known what I was.”
“No dad around?”
“Never knew him. Just some human my mom used to get pregnant.” I wasn’t sad about it. A person couldn’t miss what they never had, but Aleo was like a father to me. A heavy lump formed in my gut knowing the Putzkammers must be furious with me. I might lose the only family I ever cared for because of this.
“So you and me, both raised by single moms and are feeders. We need to start a club.” He reached over and nudged my side. It was such a simple thing, but a rush of heat coursed through me.
“And the first rule of the club is to never talk about it again.” I poked him in return. The contact was even more electrifying the second time.
“It makes sense now, you know.” Nicolas caught my hand and curled up my fingers inside his. He brought them to his mouth and let his lips brush over them. I’d never heard my heart beat so loud in my life.
“What does?” I managed to get out the words even if they did betray me with their breathy edge.
“You’re beautiful, but a sort of beauty that comes out when a girl is sad. Your wide brown eyes shimmer, and your bottom lip looks as though it might tremble. Like someone had just told you the most horrible thing and it’s slowly sinking in.” His lips skimmed over my fingers again, and he held the back of my hand against his cheek. “You are what you eat.”
He drew me in with the first bit. No one had ever described me in such a way. Poetry on sweet lips. He whispered it all as if he were in awe.
Then he had to add the last crude sentiment. I jerked my hand away from him.
I’d never be like my mother. I did what I had to do to survive and helped people in the process. A predator I was not.
“If I’m sadness personified, that makes you a blood bag.” I crossed my arms over myself. “Just let me get some sleep.”
“Erin…” He started to say more, but I turned my back to him.
He’d never understand. What I had done, I had to do. Only Connor knew. Nicolas was like everyone else. He’d judge me for what I was: a killer.
Nicolas was still beside me when I finally woke up. It was unsettling to feel a body next to mine and not feel any life from it. I worked with dead people—dressing them and getting them prepared for their viewings and occasionally helping Paul with his work—but I never lay with them.
Upstairs, I could hear Mary starting her day. Shower running, stairs creaking, breakfast being made. The scent of food made my stomach rumble. I’d be able to survive a long time without anything if I could feed on emotion, but I still needed to eat. If I were lucky, Mary would leave and I could sneak into the kitchen for something.
The television upstairs came on. Some annoying morning show hosts filled the house with their inane chattering. Then came the smell of fresh brewed coffee. I groaned silently. After a night like I had, that was torture.
For a while, the television stayed on. The grandfather clock told me it was over an hour. Finally Mary turned it off and did the dishes.
Then she opened the basement door.
I moved as quickly as I could, snatched the front of Nicolas’ shirt, and yanked him with me off the bed. It was the devil’s own luck it wasn’t squeaky. His eyes snapped open. I didn’t need to explain what was going on. Mary’s slow footsteps came down the stairs.
Nicolas wrapped an arm around my waist, and we were suddenly in the shower stall. Very carefully, he closed the curtain. He hugged me to him. I held my breath. He wasn’t breathing at all.
We heard the squeak of something opening and then Mary winding the grandfather clock. I couldn’t hear anything else, but I felt the buildup of sorrow. I drew in a slow and silent breath, taking in the grief.
Then came the quiet weeping and the creak of the rocking chair.
“Nicci. My sweet Nicci.”
Mary’s voice sent a small shudder through Nicolas, and his own sorrow spiked. I drank in the raw emotion. It was more potent in those who didn’t allow themselves to feel it often. It built up and released like a volcanic explosion.
My spots heated up down my spine and limbs. I was more aware of the sensations around me. The sounds of Mary’s grief and the water heater humming. The scent of shower cleaner, coffee, and Nicolas’ cologne. The feel of his hard body behind mine, cradling me so perfectly.
I fed. No one ever felt me do so. And why would they even suspect such a thing? It was only me who was irrevocably changed. My bottom lip quivered.
A private birthday party with just mother and son. Nicolas was maybe eight? He gave her an elegantly wrapped gift. A silver necklace he’d bought with his allowance. An almost teenage Nicolas winning a race in some school competition. His mother cheering him from the stands. Mary, as she looked now, preparing dinner for her wayward son, and then Nicolas rushing out without even a look her way.
When Mary got up and left the basement, we stayed in the stall for another five minutes. My body sang with energy, sagging a bit, opposing Nicolas’ stiffness behind me.
“Erin?” It was barely a whisper by my ear. I twisted my head and shoulders to look at him.
“You’re really warm. Like feverish. Did you…? I didn’t feel anything.”
I nodded and said nothing. Let him think as he would about the change in my body temperature. It had a lot to do with feeding, but being so close to him, I couldn’t hide the heat that rose within me.
“You feel good. I don’t want to let go.” He sounded a little drunk.
“Can you sleep in here? I don’t think we should go back into the
room today.” I didn’t think Mary would be back, but I wasn’t certain about it. I didn’t want to take the risk.
“Let me slide down, sit cross-legged. Have you on my lap.” Nicolas was already doing it as he spoke. I went down with him and felt even more intimate sitting on his lap. He nuzzled my neck, and I clutched the edge of my shirt. He smiled in a sleepy manner.
“Won’t bite.”
“I know.” And I did, but I couldn’t help the way my body reacted. Instincts were harder to change than misinformed beliefs.
His hair was so soft against my cheek. I released my shirt and leaned more against him. It felt good. More than good. I didn’t know how to explain it. I never cuddled with a man before. I wasn’t cuddled as a child. Something deep within me yearned for this.
Even if he wasn’t aware of it, we’d shared something intimate. Those memories were all he had left of his previous life. I had gotten to know him far more than if I would’ve been out on a normal first date with him.
Did I just think of dating a vampire? Maybe. And I wasn’t as bothered by it as I’d thought I’d be.
Nicolas stilled suddenly against me. Any impression of life was gone from him. He had fallen into the sleep of the undead again. Sitting on his lap now didn’t feel right. I shifted my body away from him, tempted to move off him all together.
When Mary left the house after lunch, I finally crawled out of the stall. I got a drink and went to the bathroom. I then crept upstairs and snagged some crackers and cheese. Hopefully nothing that Mary would know was missing.
I ate my snack sitting on the floor of the basement bathroom with my legs stretched out in front of me. With my spots still warm, the coolness of the tiles felt nice.
I needed to come up with a plan. We couldn’t hide in Mary’s basement the rest of our lives. I couldn’t let Connor take all the heat for what happened either. I dragged him into it. He only helped because he was doing it for me, not for Nicolas. Perhaps Connor might like Nicolas a little more now after their bonding moment.
How I won such trust and friendship, I wasn’t sure, but it was wrong to let Connor face the consequences alone. Leaving the Putzkammers wasn’t an option. I adored them. There had to be some way to make it up to them.
Of Blood and Sorrow Page 7
