Tori glanced at her watch. “It’s only nine thirty. I won’t stay but a minute.”
“I don’t make the rules, miss. I merely enforce them.”
“Victoria. What are you doing down here?” Jaxon called out from somewhere behind her.
Pivoting on her heel, Tori sent him a grateful smile. “I was hoping to see Claire for a minute before I head home for the night, but apparently it’s frowned upon after nine o’clock.”
Jaxon bent and kissed the top of her head before advancing to the window that housed the prude wearing Christmas decorations and entirely too much makeup.
“Hi, Mavis,” he purred, propping his elbows on the counter and clasping one of the prude’s hands. “Do you think we can overlook the rules just this once? I promise she’ll be in and out before she’s noticed by anyone.”
Mavis blushed from his attention, patting her hair and pushing her glasses up on her nose. "I suppose we can let it slide this once. But make it quick. You know how those nurses can be.”
Jaxon leaned in, whispering in a conspirator’s voice, “None of them are as sweet as you.”
“Oh, stop it,” she scolded with a girlish giggle that nearly gagged Tori. “Kiss that baby for me, Mr. Sanders.”
“I sure will. Have a good night, Mavis.”
Spinning around, Jaxon took hold of Victoria’s elbow and escorted her to the elevators.
Tori didn’t speak until they were safely inside. “I think Mavis came in her chair.”
The look on Jaxon’s face couldn’t be more comical. “You’re a sick individual, Victoria. Sick indeed.”
“Yes, well, I’m certain I wasn’t far off the mark. It almost made me throw up.”
“Which I’m about to do now, thanks to you.”
A laugh bubbled up. “I’m sorry, but for the love of Pete, she practically slobbered down her blouse.”
A ding sounded, announcing their arrival on the third floor. “I’m just glad Claire delivered in Niceville instead of Fort Walton. I would have arrived so late that even your southern charm wouldn’t have been able to get me in to see her.”
Jaxon grinned and motioned for Tori to precede him out of the elevator. “You doubt my abilities?”
Victoria marched off toward Room 308 with a chuckle. "I suppose not, you big stud. You obviously won Claire over with something other than your looks.”
He lightly thumped her on the back of the head. “Kiss my butt, Victoria Blanchard.”
“What butt?” Tori sailed into Claire’s room, bubbling with excitement.
“Whose butt are we talking about?” The twitch of Claire’s lips left no doubt in Tori’s mind that her best friend knew exactly whose rear end happened to be in question.
“Jaxon’s. He thinks he’s God’s gift to womankind.” Tori moved to the side of the bed and kissed Claire’s cheek.
“I never said any such thing.” Jaxon situated himself on the opposite side of the bed, taking hold of his wife’s hand. “I merely stated that I owned a bit of southern charm.”
Tori’s eyes narrowed. “Spare me, Sanders. I’m about to lose my dinner.”
Claire glanced from one to the other. “I don’t know what I would do without you two dorks. They are bringing Grayson to me shortly. The nurse said he could stay in the room with me tonight since he wants to eat every twenty minutes.”
Victoria’s heart squeezed with the knowledge of never being able to hold a child of her own. “I can’t wait to see him.”
“Are you all right? You look a bit pale.” Claire’s gaze bored into Tori’s, making her uncomfortable.
She’d never told Claire about her reproductive issues, and she didn’t intend to now. “I’m just tired. We had a pretty busy night at work. And I met a guy,” Tori continued before Claire could press further.
Jaxon quickly piped in. “What about Justin?”
“Where have you been, Sanders?” Tori lifted an eyebrow. “It’s been over between us for months.”
“I forgot to tell him.” Claire intervened with a wave of her hand. “We’ve been so crazy with redecorating and putting the nursery together that it slipped my mind.”
The door suddenly opened, admitting a young nurse, pushing a bassinet with a tiny bundle wrapped in a blue blanket inside. “Someone’s hungry again.” She gathered the infant and laid him in his mother’s waiting arms before glancing at Tori. “Visiting hours are over, ma’am.”
Jaxon threw out the charm once again. “Would it be possible to let her stay a few more minutes? She just got off work and has a long drive home.”
The nurse practically melted in her crocks. “I guess ten more minutes wouldn’t hurt.”
“Thank you.” He glanced at the woman’s nametag. “Missy.”
“Of course,” she gushed, scurrying back out into the hall.
Victoria leaned over and kissed baby Grayson’s pink cheek. “Your daddy is a bad influence, little man. Pay him no mind.”
Laughter filled the room, warming Tori’s heart as it always did.
Chapter Four
Damien unlocked the door to Tori’s home with the key he’d seen her hide under a rock near the steps a few nights ago. Her scent hit him long before he stepped inside, sliding up his nose to trigger the descent of his fangs.
Every light in the house was on, and a shotgun sat next to the couch where a black cat lounged, hissing and showing its teeth.
“Go,” he ordered the animal in a low voice, smirking as the feline sprang to its feet and scrambled off without a backward glance.
He shut the door and wandered through the living room into the kitchen. A vase of wilted flowers sat in the windowsill with a picture of an unsmiling elderly woman perched next to it.
She had to be Tori’s mother, he assumed, staring at the woman’s sad expression. The likeness was uncanny, from the blonde hair and brown eyes to the heart-shaped mouth. But that was where the resemblance ended. Tori’s eyes sparkled with mischief and life, while the woman in the photo lacked both.
Damien left the kitchen and trailed down the hall to Victoria’s bedroom. She hadn’t made her bed, he noticed, advancing deeper into her most private space. Her scent was strongest in here, telling him that this was where she spent most of her time.
A pink gown lay haphazardly across the footboard of her bed as if she’d tossed it there in a hurry.
His eyes rolled back in his head as he lifted the sheer garment and brought it to his nose. Her amazing essence nearly crippled him with lust. He couldn’t determine if he wanted to feed from her or mate with her. He decided on both, drawing in one more deep breath before dropping the material back onto the bed.
Pictures littered the room on various pieces of furniture. He recognized the woman from the kitchen in one of the frames on a nightstand, while a few other nameless faces perched on the dresser in a disarray of poses and expressions.
A growl surfaced as he picked up a framed image of Tori sitting on a swing with Jaxon Sanders standing behind her. They were both smiling and seeming to enjoy the moment as he’d apparently been pushing her.
Possessiveness rose up in Damien’s chest strong enough that the frame shattered in his hand. “Shit.” He shoved the broken pieces behind the dresser and turned to go.
Headlights suddenly shone through the window, signaling a car coming up the drive. He’d been so lost in jealousy he hadn’t heard its approach.
Damien moved with vampiric speed, blurring toward the kitchen and out the back door, locking it behind him.
He crept to the side of the house, staying close to the shrubs to watch as Tori pulled into the drive and got out of her car.
She stilled for a moment, appearing to listen for movement before hurrying to the porch and letting herself inside. Damien relaxed once the sound of the locks engaged.
Keeping to the shadows, he glided to a window and watched through a small opening in the curtain as Tori checked the ammo in her gun and switched the safety off. What could have her paranoid enou
gh to check her weapon before removing her shoes?
He stood completely still, peering through the glass while she turned on the television. “Psycho? Come here, boy.”
Psycho? How fitting, he mused, thinking of the demonic-looking feline lounging on the couch earlier.
The cat strutted slowly into the living room as if he hadn’t recently vacated it like his tail had been on fire. He shifted his eerie gaze to the very window that Damien peered through and hissed an unholy sound.
Tori scooped him up, holding him close to her chest. “What’s wrong with you, boy? You hear a mouse out there?”
The cat hissed again and jumped from her arms before swirling his body around her ankles.
“Are you hungry? Come, let’s get you something to eat.”
Damien held his position, listening as Tori fed the damn cat and then traipsed off down the hall, disappearing from view.
A door closed on the opposite side of the house, and the sound of a shower came on.
Thoughts of water sluicing down her nude form plagued Damien’s mind as he stood in the dark, peeping through her window like an idiot. Apparently the cat wasn’t the only psycho on the premises.
Try as he might, Damien couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Why was he torturing himself so? It would be easy to go back inside, take what he wanted, and leave without a second thought. But he couldn’t. He wanted her to want him, to need him…to beg him.
A deep growl sounded from somewhere nearby, pulling Damien up short. The putrid scent of wolf surrounded him, invading his senses and triggering his vampiric reflexes. His fangs shot down to match his rapidly growing nails. Heat formed behind his eyes, and his feet left the ground on instinct, springing him to the safety of the rooftop.
Damien crouched low, scanning the darkness for signs of other life forms he’d missed while obsessing over Victoria, but the wolf was alone.
The growling abruptly stopped, and a giant of a man appeared in the place the wolf had previously been.
The stranger’s deep voice penetrated the night. “Be gone from here, demon. I would take great pleasure in removing your head.”
“I strongly advise against that, friend.” Damien stood, never taking his gaze from what he now recognized as a familiar standing below him.
“Might you have a name, familiar?” More jealousy tore through Damien with the thought of this big, naked man hanging around Tori’s home.
The giant stepped into the beam of light coming from the living room window. “The name’s Ben, and we are not friends, bloodsucker.”
Damien fought back a growl. “What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you the same thing, but I think that’s obvious. I won’t allow you to touch one hair on Tori’s head, you fiend. Now move on to the next town and hunt your dinner there.”
Damien jumped lithely to the ground, landing a few feet in front of the giant. “I mean her no harm.”
“That’s why you were out here, looking through her window like a peeping Tom? I’m not buying it.”
“And the big bad wolf is here to buy cookies from Little Red Riding Hood?”
Ben took a step forward. “I was checking in on her when I smelled a rotted corpse nearby.”
“She’s mine,” Damien hissed, moving to close the distance between them.
“Who’s there?” Tori’s voice rang out, shattering Damien’s thoughts and kick-starting his heart. With a speed born of a vampire, he sprinted to the tree line and disappeared before Ben had time to close his mouth.
* * * *
Damien paced his hotel room, stopping occasionally to pull the curtain back and peer out the window. He should have taken the familiar’s life while he’d had the chance. What if Ben was now inside Tori’s house, her bedroom...her body?
Damien couldn’t go back tonight. Ben might have already told her about what he’d found when he’d arrived at her house. If that were the case, Damien would have lost her for good.
Pain rose up inside him at the thought of never seeing her again. He wasn’t sure he could live with that.
Too worked up to remain in his room, he jerked the door open and strode off down the long hall toward the stairs. The night was young, and he had far too much anxiety to sit still. There had to be a bar open in town, and Damien intended to feast until Victoria Blanchard didn’t occupy his every thought.
Chapter Five
Tori’s heart nearly stopped when Ben’s voice drifted up to her porch. “Tori girl? Get me a towel, will you?”
“Ben?” She quickly moved toward the steps, but his next words stopped her.
“Don’t come out here, hon. I’m not dressed.”
“Naturally.” She laughed. “What are you doing out here naked?”
“I was in wolf form when I arrived. My clothes are in the woods about a mile from here.”
“Hang on,” she called with another chuckle. “I’ll be right back.”
Switching off the porch light on her way back inside, she rushed to the hall closet for a towel.
Leave it to Ben to pull a stunt like this, she mused, opening the door a crack and sticking the towel outside.
“Thank you.” Ben’s muffled voice resonated from the porch, chock full of embarrassment.
“Come in.” Tori pushed the door open and backed up to allow him entrance.
“Not a word to Claire about this.” He gave her a wide berth on his way into the living room.
Tori couldn’t contain her humor. “Does Sarina know you run the woods, flashing your man-bits to the other animals grazing nearby?”
“I wasn’t flashing anything,” he snapped, gripping the edges of the towel to keep it from falling off. “I normally don’t stray far from my clothes, but…”
“But what?”
He glanced away. “I just figured I would check in on you since I was in your neck of the woods. I didn’t intend for you to come barreling out and catch me with my rear end uncovered.”
“You don’t usually journey this far from home, and I didn’t barrel anywhere. I was letting the cat out.”
She spun on her heel toward the kitchen and spoke over her shoulder. “Would you like a drink? I have beer and water.”
When no answer came, Tori stuck her head around the corner to find the towel lying across the back of the couch and Ben nowhere to be seen. “I guess not.”
Ambling back into the living room, Victoria let Psycho back inside and locked the door. Ben was a strange individual, she decided, picking up the shotgun before heading to her room. She had a long day ahead of her on the morrow and desperately needed to sleep.
* * * *
Victoria left the hospital the next day with barely enough time to make it to Scruples before the doors opened for the lunch crowd.
Claire and baby Grayson would be going home in a few hours, which meant a lot less driving for Tori.
Sam glanced up from behind the bar as Victoria rushed inside. “Late night, Tori?”
“Is it that obvious?” She took up position next to him and turned on the register.
“Pretty much. You have dark circles under your eyes.”
She’d noticed that herself while applying some makeup that morning. “Thanks for pointing it out, Mr. Clean.”
He stared at her until it became uncomfortable. “Does it have anything to do with the guy you were falling all over at the bar last night?”
Tori’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t falling all over him, and if I had taken him home with me, that’s my business, not yours.”
“Testy little shit, aren’t you?” He brushed past her and stalked off toward the dining area.
“Nosy little shit, aren’t you?” she shot back before continuing her daily ritual of stocking the bar.
Why did everyone have to make it their goal in life to crawl all up in her business? Tori wondered with a frown. Everyone but Claire. She has her hands full with Jaxon and Grayson.
The door opened, and Sadie entered the restaurant, car
rying a small, black bag. She took a seat at the bar before laying the bag on the counter and pushing it in Tori’s direction. “I have something for you.”
Tori put down the towel she held, giving Sadie a warm smile as she reached for the offering. “What is it?”
“It’s just a little something Madge, Adele, and I wanted you to have. Go on; open it.”
Half expecting confetti to spring forth, Tori untied the string holding the small velvet bag together and poured the contents into her palm. The most beautiful necklace she had ever seen slipped out, taking her breath. “Oh, Sadie. It’s lovely, but I can’t accept this.”
“Nonsense. Now try it on. Let’s see how it looks.”
Tori held the precious jewelry up to the light, captivated by the ruby dangling from a dainty, gold chain. “Why would you give this to me?”
“It’s a protective medallion, sweet child. Wear it always.”
Tears stung Victoria’s eyes. The Murphy sisters had always been good to her growing up—inviting her over on Saturdays for cookies, and bringing her Christmas gifts when her stepdad was out of work…which happened to be more often than not. “But—”
“No buts. Here, let me help you put it on.”
Victoria handed Sadie the necklace, turned around, and lifted her hair. The ruby medallion rested between her breasts, cool and comforting against her skin.
Sadie touched Tori’s shoulder. “There. Let me see.”
Holding back the tears, Tori spun to face the generous woman she’d known all of her life. “Thank you, Sadie. It’s beautiful and I’ll cherish it always.”
The elderly woman had a suspicious-looking moisture in her eyes. “Promise me you won’t take it off.”
“I promise,” Tori vowed. And she meant it. She decided to change the subject lest she break down and cry like a two-year-old. “Where are your sidekicks this morning?”
“It’s after noon, dear. And they had some thrift store shopping to do.”
“Ah, must be nice.”
“Yes, well, you’ve never been thrifting with those old farts, or you would thank your lucky stars you don’t have to go.”
Consuming Damien (The Possessed Series Book 2) Page 2
