“Twice, actually,” he noted. “And no, not exactly. But kind of.”
I sat back against my pillow; the warm soup clutched between my hands. Men made no sense. Absolutely no sense.
“Eat your soup,” he said, all the gruffness returning to his voice. “It’s going to get cold.”
“And what’s with your food obsession?” I asked. “It’s practically the only thing that seems to lighten your mood.”
“I’ve got to eat it every day to stay alive, might as well enjoy it.”
I shook my head. He wasn’t telling me the whole story. What else was new?
18
Riggs
The remainder of our week of sanctuary felt like it was racing by. I spent most of my time watching over Sylvie, who mostly only got out of bed to use the bathroom or shower in the mornings. She rotated through the clothes I’d had Felix pick up from her apartment and rarely picked out anything but large t-shirts and athletic shorts.
She was in a perpetual state of cozy lounge mode, and I found the look oddly appealing. There wasn’t the usual over-eagerness to impress that I encountered with some women. She didn’t worry about fiddling in the mirror for hours to get her makeup and hair perfect.
She’d hop out of bed in socks and a ratty t-shirt, whack a werewolf in the head with a baseball bat, then curl up with a book while she ate some processed food out of a crinkly bag before dinner.
And somehow, I needed to find a way to stop one of the most powerful, dangerous arms of The Coven from capturing or killing her and her sister.
Lately, my wolf rarely stirred. Even when I was the acting Alpha of the Silverbacks, my wolf had always been largely dormant. Ever since I’d met Sylvie, I could constantly feel him stirring, like a second pair of eyes watching from within my skull.
Relax, asshole, I thought, directing the words to my wolf. Don’t get any ideas.
The only response was a vague impression of deep, echoing growls.
Sylvie let out a happy sigh, setting her paperback down on her chest and smiling contentedly.
“Haven’t you already read all those books Fang is bringing from your apartment?”
“Yes,” she said. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t still enjoy my favorite moments.”
“What was the one that just made you smile like that?” I asked. Even as I heard the words leave my mouth, I could hardly believe they came from me. I didn’t make small talk. I didn’t care about other people or their interests, especially not in the last few years.
But when Sylvie’s eyes lit up at my question, I realized exactly why I’d asked. Dammit.
She sat cross-legged on the bed, facing me and forcing her shorts up until I could see a dangerous amount of smooth leg. It seemed she was still taking the time to shave her legs during those brief showers she took in the mornings. I tried to suppress the part of my brain that wanted to imagine what it would feel like to go to her now—to slide my hand up her smooth thigh and press her back down on the bed by the chest. To lower myself over her and kiss those innocent, perpetually puffy lips of hers.
I blinked, focusing on what she was telling me.
“...and the best part is she has no idea he was planning it the whole time. So just when you think she’s lost everything, he shows up and boom. Happily ever after.”
I grinned. I’d missed the majority of it, but she seemed to get a fresh dose of enjoyment just from giving me the recap, which had her hugging the book and smiling at me with raised eyebrows.
“How long have you had this condition?” I asked. The question had been bothering me, but I hadn’t gotten around to asking her.
“My mom had the same thing, so my parents were kind of always looking out for signs. But it seemed like it wasn’t a problem until I was six. I got this really bad case of pneumonia and I don’t know if that triggered it or something. But, yeah. Ever since I can’t really be around germs. I’ve taken risks here and there. I snuck out to go to my high school prom,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows dangerously at me. “Of course I mostly stood in the corner all night partly because I was terrified of all the people so close together, and, well, partly because I had this idiotic idea that the perfect guy would see me and swoop in. Rescue me from my torment, or something silly like that.”
I nodded. “Did you get sick?”
“Oh yeah. I wasn’t able to keep anything down for a solid week after that. It was coming out of both ends, let me tell you-” she paused mid-sentence, cheeks glowing red. “Figuratively speaking,” she added in a whisper. “I don’t poop, actually. I mean, not-” She clamped her mouth shut and stared intensely at her hands, which were wringing together in her lap.
I hated how soft Sylvie made me feel. I normally would’ve had no problem letting her wallow in her embarrassment. Instead, I found myself digging for something I could say to ease her shame. “On full moons, our wolves take over,” I said quickly, even as I was internally kicking myself for the story I was about to tell. “Mine was in a new forest once, just roaming. Well, he found some berries and decided to go to town on them. You could say he never paid the price for that bad decision, but I did.”
Sylvie slowly raised her eyes to mine, then a grin spread her lips. “Really?”
I nodded.
“I appreciate all of this, you know,” she said. “I know my sister and I kind of tried to escape twice and I sort of hit you with a spoon.”
“And a bat,” I added.
“Right. But I’m starting to believe you really are just trying to help us. And I’m sorry we’ve made it harder on you.”
“Believe it or not, your reaction wasn’t that unusual. I’ve been doing this a long time. Well, I haven’t in years, but I did this sort of thing for a while before that. It was my line of work before I became the Alpha of the Silverbacks. And hardly anybody wants to admit they need saving at first. There’s always an adjustment period.”
“That’s a delicate way of putting it.”
“You know me. Always delicate.”
She grinned. “I like you this way. You’re not as mean as you want people to think, are you?”
I realized how close we were sitting then. I could smell the sweetness of the strawberry shortcake dessert I’d brought with her lunch on her breath. I could see her dilated pupils and the way her breaths were coming a little too quickly.
“To tell the truth,” I said, feeling myself lean closer to her.
She leaned toward me; lips parted.
“I have no problem being an asshole to everyone else. You must’ve knocked something loose with that baseball bat. Because I’m starting to-”
Maisey squirmed behind Sylvie on the bed, hands clutching into claws. She opened her mouth wide and let out a quiet hiss of pain, canines bared and sharp.
Sylvie jumped back from me. I leaned away, feeling whatever electricity had been forming in the air dissipate.
I cleared my throat and got up. “I should go call Felix to see how it’s coming with finding her help.”
“Thank you,” Sylvie said. She was leaning over Maisey, rubbing her hand down her hair and making soothing shushing sounds.
Once I was outside the room, I let out a long breath. Fuck. What had I been about to do?
I didn’t mess around with human women, for starters. I definitely didn’t mess with human women who had sisters that were turning into vampires. If that wasn’t bad enough, this particular woman was my client. She was someone I’d sworn to protect.
Failing to protect someone I cared about had nearly destroyed me five years ago. If I failed this, I knew I wouldn’t be able to carry on.
I needed to get my shit together and focus on what mattered: keeping her safe.
19
Riggs
Felix let me know the only way he'd be able to get Maisey "fed" was going to be if we snuck her out. Worse, the rebels only agreed to care for her if she came and stayed at their base of operations—an old, secluded mansion outside the city called Blackridge.
It had been six days since I brought the girls to The Wet Flea. I hated leaving before we had to, but there wasn't much choice. Maisey's condition was worsening by the day. Thankfully, Sylvie seemed to be fully recovered. She was currently curled up with a book Fang had managed to smuggle in from the crime scene that was her apartment. By my count, it was the fifth book she’d conned him into going and getting for her. The idiot kept bringing one at a time, and I wondered if it was so he had an excuse to keep doing her favors.
I'd talked to Felix on the phone a few hours ago and knew I was running out of time to think of an alternative to what he was suggesting. The idea of living with the fucking rebel vamps turned my stomach, even if it was only temporary.
But I'd turned the possibilities in my head over and saw no other way. Sylvie wasn't going to let me separate her from her sister. I was sure of it.
Sylvie was cross legged on the bed with the book in her lap. She’d run out of clean clothes from the stash I’d brought and resorted to borrowing some of mine this morning. She was currently wearing one of my black t-shirts, which she'd tied up at the side. She had on an oversized pair of my jeans as well, which she had tried and failed to secure with a belt that didn't go small enough for her waist. When she got up to use the restroom, she had to clutch the pants to keep them from falling.
Sylvie had the book in one hand and the other was running idly through her sister’s hair.
Maisey had seemed pretty enough when I first met the girls, but now she was essentially a ghoul. Her cheeks were sunken, her skin was nearly white, and her lips were pulled back to show pointed canines.
As much as the sight of a vampire pissed me off for my own reasons, I hated that Sylvie had to see her sister like this.
I'd learned a little about Sylvie over the past few days. She had a bladder the size of a teacup, for starters. I swore, the woman got up to pee at least every thirty minutes, and she apparently used half a toilet paper roll each time. She had me ransacking spare rooms for more toilet paper daily. She also read with superhuman speed. I wasn't even sure she was truly reading as her eyes flicked from side to side and she thumbed the pages.
She was also an endless fountain of questions. How do werewolves eat? Like normal people. Do they howl when it's a full moon? No comment. Are they more hairy than usual? Did she want to come check for herself?
But most of all I was struck by how much she seemed to care for her sister. I wasn't sure if even the closest of sisters would have looked past the frightening state Maisey was in. Sylvie didn't seem bothered in the slightest. To her, the shriveling form beside her on the bed was just her sister, and she hardly went two minutes without glancing over to check on Maisey or stroking her hair.
I had to admit it made me think of Kyla. My little sister and I had been close like that once. I remembered nearly killing a boy when we were kids because he'd "pranked" her by shoving a stick in the spokes of her bike. She'd fallen and chipped two teeth along with getting road burn on her knees and elbows. I'd spent the afternoon helping pick asphalt from her cuts, then I'd gone and paid her bullies a visit.
I'd protected her from everything.
Almost everything.
The thought left a sour taste in my stomach and an emptiness in my chest.
I cleared my throat and Sylvie looked up at the sound.
"We are going to move when Felix calls. There's a place where Maisey can get what she needs."
"Okay," Sylvie said without hesitation. Her hand was on Maisey's arm, and I saw her fingers tighten.
"We can't move her during the day. Not with what she’s becoming. That means we'll be open to attack by Lazarus and his people."
"So what's the plan, then? Tiptoe?"
"There are likely vampires outside The Wet Flea watching every exit right now. We're not leaving without him learning of it. But Lazarus' job is about more than just eliminating mutts. It's about setting an example. He won't want to execute you in the street. He'll want to bring you two in."
"What does he want with me?" Sylvie asked.
"He's going to assume you've been turned, but I doubt they care much either way. You two are a package deal, and they’re not going to let you walk.”
"Wait," Sylvie said. "What about Steve? Is he coming with us?"
"He recovered yesterday. Felix already sent him off to the rebel vampires at Blackridge."
Sylvie squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her temples. "Okay. You need to come with a glossary, or something. This is like reading an Alastair Reynolds sci-fi book. I feel like I only understand half the words coming out of your mouth." She took a deep breath. "What is Blackridge?"
"It's a mansion in the hills. The rebels turned the place into a sort of fortress and grooming school for young vampires. It's where The Prince lives."
"What makes him a prince, exactly?"
"His mother was Ana Black, one of the oldest vampires still living. They claim he's exceedingly powerful. But either way, he has Ana and his father, Vladimir, backing him, which means the Coven can't simply crash down and wipe them all out. Apparently, enough powerful vampires defected to the cause that it's a legitimate threat to The Coven."
"Wow," Sylvie said. "It's just like Moonlight Caravan. Well, sort of. In the book, werewolves make an alliance with the fallen king of the fae. There's this big battle between all three factions and it-"
"Sylvie," I said. "This is real life. Real danger. It's not one of your stories."
She blushed. "I understand, I was just-" She shook her head and looked down. "What do you need me to do?"
"Keep an eye on your sister and stay close to me. No matter what happens."
"It's not like I'm going to run away from the big scary werewolf who is protecting me and wave my hands around. 'Hey, vampires! I did a stupid thing and split up. come get me!'" She made a small noise in her throat, then smiled a little. "Sorry, I just didn't exactly need to be told that one. Obvious," she added.
Part of me was amused, but mostly, I just worried about her. I wanted to know she was taking this all seriously—that she understood what was at risk. "Vampires can touch your mind," I said. "The more powerful ones can wipe your memories, or even alter them. They can make you think you want to walk down a side street or lay down and curl up in a ball. They can even make you think you want to take a bite out of your own wrist."
Sylvie's face paled. "Seriously?"
"Some of the more subtle tricks are beyond the skill of all but the most powerful vamps, but almost all of them can clear the last few minutes of memory. It's how they keep their food from talking about what happened."
She gulped. "So you're saying a vampire could've fed on me at some point and made me forget about it?"
"It's not likely, but possible. Yeah."
"So what chance do we have against that?"
"Their tricks don't work on me as easily. So you stay close to me and I'll keep you from doing anything stupid."
Sylvie nodded. "Hey, Riggs?"
I was grabbing my coat. I stopped to look at her. She looked small enough that a strong breeze could've blown her away, and I briefly considered facing the wrath of Sylvie and The Wet Flea by simply keeping her here until Lazarus gave up. Of course that wasn't a true option. The pack itself would come to remove us if we stayed beyond a week here because we'd be risking war with the Coven. And, of course, Maisey would die if we didn't get her out of here and to the rebels.
"What is it?" I asked.
"If you’re seriously hoping to get us to pay you some big fee when this is over, we’ll try. But we really don’t have much, so I just felt like you should know we might not be able to give you what you’re looking for.”
I grinned. "Yeah, you will. We’ll work something out."
Sylvie looked a little uncertain. "As long as we're talking a fee in with no more than two zeroes, there's a chance we can make that happen."
A brief, but vivid image of her on her back with sweat glistening on her brow sparked in my min
d. It was all skin, soft curves, and warmth. With effort, I cleared my head. "We'll figure it out when the time comes. For now, let's focus on keeping you in one piece. I need you to be ready to go in five minutes."
Sylvie grabbed her long-dead cell phone and held it up with a grin. "All packed. Ready when you are."
"Do you, uh. Need to pee or anything? We won't be able to take bathroom breaks until we get there."
She actually laughed. "Do I need to pee?" Her smile faded. "Actually, I could probably empty the tank a little. Just to be safe." She shot me two finger guns and an awkward wink, then hurried to the bathroom.
I was going to have my fucking hands full getting both girls to Blackridge.
Sylvie popped her head out of the bathroom. She had a toothbrush in one hand and was applying the deodorant I'd bought her with the other. Yes, it happened to be lavender scented, but that was the first one I grabbed. "Does it hurt?" she asked.
"Does what hurt?"
"When you guys change your body into wolf things? Like how Fang did his fingers." She hesitated, eyes going wide. "Wait. Can you change any part of your body to-"
"I'm not answering that," I said. “And is that really relevant right now?”
She smiled around her toothbrush, then a glob of foamy toothpaste bubbles spilled over her chin and landed on her breasts. "Shit," she said, spraying more toothpaste on herself.
She disappeared into the bathroom and ran the sink. When she came back out, there was a wet spot right on her nipple, which was pressing precariously against the fabric of the shirt I'd let her borrow.
She crossed her arms, blushing. "I'm a sloppy tooth brusher. Sue me."
Nothing about this human should've captivated me like it did. She was ridiculously fragile. Forget the inherent drawbacks of being human and the obvious mortality that came with it. She was fragile, even for a human. She could hardly walk outside without getting bed-ridden with fever for days. She also struggled to perform basic tasks like teeth brushing without a high likelihood of mishaps.
I Bite She Sucks Page 9
