Andrea was just sitting there, looking as if she had seen a ghost. And maybe she had. Who was Blake to say?
“I like your car,” Andrea said finally, looking all around the spacious cabin. “This is the type of car I would have wanted, if I hadn’t always been afraid it would get jacked.”
“I see,” Blake returned. “Well, maybe now that you’re out of that neighborhood, it’s something you can think about.”
“Word,” Andrea said with a slow nod. “Not that I have any idea where I’m going from here.”
“Well, no one said you had to go right now,” Blake said, offering the other woman a warm smile. “You’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like, Andrea.”
Her companion looked at her with a smile of her own. “I thought I told you to call me Andi?”
Blake laughed. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I guess I’m used to always making the more formal choice.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious,” Andrea agreed. “You’re wound tighter than a piano string. No doubt.”
Blake’s smile faltered when she registered the expression on Andrea’s – on Andi’s – face. It was no longer despondent, sullen or aloof. It displayed a great amount of curiosity, a blatantly obvious interest in the person who was sitting next to her. And Blake began to blush, because of course that person was her.
“My bad,” Andi said with a chuckle. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“You didn’t,” Blake argued, though of course that was hardly true.
They were silent for a long moment, until Blake took the key out of the ignition and popped her door open, trying to add a little noise to a moment that was getting too heavy for her taste.
“Ah,” Andi said in a quiet voice. “That’s my cue, I guess.”
She opened the passenger door and got out of the car, though she did wait for Blake to come around and walk to the front door with her.
And, just as always, Albert opened it before either of them could ring or knock. He smiled his usual pleasant smile, standing aside for them to enter.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said. “I hope you enjoyed your meal?”
“Yes, thank you, Albert,” Blake answered. “It was a lovely outing.”
Andi eyed her strangely as she said this, obviously wondering how she managed to pretend so well. Maybe she’d already forgotten that, as Voltana, Blake was used to pretending.
“Wonderful, just wonderful,” Albert remarked with a quiet clap of his hands. “Now, would either of you care for a nightcap? I was just about to pour one for myself. If it tempts you further, I have tonight’s episode of Jeopardy! prepared to play on the D-V-R machine.”
Blake smiled faintly. She was always tickled by the way Albert referred to the DVR, but more than that, he seldom showed this much enthusiasm. And of course she knew why he was doing so at the moment. He was convinced that Blake and Andi had a connection, and he was trying, in an endearing and fatherly way, to show his support.
But Blake wasn’t even sure that they did have a connection. She had felt something, that much was true, but feeling something wasn’t always a sign of something more.
The simple truth was, she had so little experience with relationships. After her parents died, she threw herself into school, and then work, so that the occasional dalliance was destined to never become any more than what it started out as. As far as connections went, she couldn’t say that she had ever really connected with anyone.
Except Logan. But that was too painful to think about.
“Not tonight, I don’t think,” Blake told Albert. “I’m rather tired, but of course our houseguest is welcome to join you.”
She tried to give them both a warm smile, but she was afraid that it came out cold and flat. So she simply turned away and started up the stairs.
“Goodnight, Albert,” she heard Andi say quickly. With a sinking feeling in her chest, she heard the other woman’s footsteps on the staircase behind her.
She had intended to go straight to her bedroom, but now that Andi was following her, she had no choice but to turn around and face her. When they arrived at the landing, she did so reluctantly, not at all sure what she should say.
Considering her inexplicable abilities, even when Blake wasn’t trying to, she often moved too quickly. Especially when she was flustered. It looked like Andi had had to put in quite a bit of effort to keep up with her, because by the time she came up to the landing, she was out of breath, practically panting.
“Damn,” she said, wheezing a bit and doubling over slightly. “You’re fast.”
“And you seem to be rather out of shape,” Blake observed with a soft smile.
“True dat,” Andi acquiesced, straightening up with a little grunt. “No arguments here.”
But then Blake found her eyes roving down Andi’s body’s, taking in her curves and corners, just as she’d done back at the apartment building downtown. Andi may not have been in top physical condition – at least when it came to stairs, anyway – but it certainly looked like she was. Her body was practically perfect, flowing and turning in all the right places, small and compact, like something you could fold up and put right in your pocket.
“You’re looking at me weird,” she suddenly said to Blake, smiling nervously. “I can’t tell if you’re pissed, or something else.”
“Something else,” Blake replied quietly. Her voice was low, yes, but it held its usual tone of calm authority. She didn’t want to be questioned any further. Her intention was to make herself plain with nothing more than those two simple words.
And, of course, Andi wasn’t a stupid woman. She could read the signs clearly enough, even without being given explicit directions. She went from woefully uncertain to beautifully confident in a matter of three seconds. But then, Blake would have expected no less from her.
Gently, but so firmly, Andi wrapped her thin fingers around Blake’s biceps and pushed her up against the wall. Blake inhaled sharply, letting her head fall back, inviting the other woman in.
Andi leaned forward slowly and pressed her soft lips to Blake’s neck. Blake tried to breathe in again, but it was a shallow breath, caught somewhere between her lungs.
She lifted Andi’s face away from her throat, working her hands into her hair and looking into her eyes with an almost cutting severity. But the other woman was far from unnerved. She wrapped her right hand around the back of Blake’s neck, clutching tightly but sweetly. She pressed their lips together, then worked her mouth slowly. When Blake felt the light touch of Andi’s tongue, she melted into her arms, her heart beating quickly, her loins aching and burning.
“I want you on a bed,” Andi murmured, licking Blake’s bottom lip lightly. “I’ll do things to you that you won’t ever forget.”
Without a word, Blake dragged Andi into her bedroom, throwing the door shut behind them. Before she knew it, she was up against the wall again, and half the buttons of her shirt were undone. Andi licked her collarbone, and she shuddered, taking breathless note of the fact that the other woman’s tongue was growing even warmer and slicker. She couldn’t help imagining the things Andi planned on doing with that tongue.
She pulled Andi’s T-shirt up over her head, revealing a simple black bra hugging her breasts in a way that made Blake’s mouth water. She ran her hands up and down Andi’s sides, tracing the places where her ribs jutted against her smooth flesh with fingertips that nearly shook.
Andi ripped the remaining buttons on Blake’s shirt, then pulled her close and kissed her again.
“Remind me that I owe you a new shirt,” Andi muttered, her voice a low, guttural growl that tickled Blake’s ear. She licked Blake’s earlobe, then nibbled it.
Blake couldn’t find her breath this time. She pulled Andi back to kiss her, trying to steal some of the air from the other woman’s mouth, but then choking with an urgent feeling of need when Andi began to suck her tongue. She pushed herself roughly against her, losing herself in the moment.
&nb
sp; And then, without warning, an electric surge passed down her arms and through her hands, jolting Andi like a defibrillator. She flew halfway across the room, landing on the carpet on her back.
Blake ran to her, kneeling down beside her. There was no visible sign of breath. Blake checked the pulse at her neck, but couldn’t find it.
“Albert!” she screamed. “Call an ambulance!”
No less prompt than usual, despite the fact that he had probably had a couple glasses of scotch by now, Albert called out immediately, his voice calm and steady.
“Right away, Miss Turner!”
“Jesus Christ,” Blake whispered. “What the fuck have I done?”
She performed firm compressions on Andi’s chest, then breathed steadily into her mouth. She feared, a little more each moment, that she wouldn’t wake.
After the third set of compressions, Andi took a shallow breath, then coughed and tried to sit up.
“Wait a minute,” Blake advised, forcing her back down to the floor. “You’ve just had a shock.”
Contrary to her expectations, Andi smiled. “Yeah,” she murmured, staring up at Blake. “You can say that again.”
“May I be of assistance, Miss Turner?” Albert asked in an anxious voice. He was standing just outside the bedroom door.
“It’s all right, Albert,” Blake answered with a sigh of relief, sitting back on her haunches. She realized she had begun to perspire, and she wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead. “Everything’s all right.”
“You’re quite sure, Miss Turner?” Albert persisted. He certainly wasn’t one to question Blake’s statements or orders, but when it came to the well-being of others, he was incredibly diligent.
“Miss De Luca had a fall,” Blake replied. “But she seems to be all right now.”
“Good,” Albert said quickly. “Very good. No doubt it would take the ambulance another half hour to arrive, anyway.”
“Thank you, Albert,” Blake returned. “Thank you so much. I do promise you she’s all right.”
“Yes, Miss Turner,” Albert replied dutifully. His footsteps could finally be heard shuffling away from the door.
Andi tried to sit up again, and this time Blake didn’t stop her. She helped her up to her feet, then settled her gently on the edge of the bed.
“Are you all right?” she asked nervously. “How do you feel? Does anything hurt?”
“Nah,” Andi replied dismissively, waving a hand through the air. “I’m fine. No worries.”
“I am a little worried, actually,” Blake argued. “You could have been killed.”
Again, Andi surprised her by laughing. “Yeah,” she said with a deep chuckle. “You swept me off my feet, I guess.”
She looked into Blake’s eyes again, then reached for her hand. Blake pulled away, not trusting herself to touch Andi. The last time she touched her, she almost turned her into Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Andi’s face fell. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Blake said slowly.
Andi narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Isn’t that my choice to make? If I’m not afraid, what does it matter?”
“It matters to me,” Blake countered stalwartly. “I don’t trust myself.”
Andi stood up to face her, and although she was a few inches shorter than Blake, she managed to stare her down hard enough to make Blake’s legs quiver.
“Well, I trust you,” she said. “So will you just –”
She tried to take Blake’s hand again – but, for the second time, Blake pulled away.
And then Andi was pissed. “Fine,” she said in a low voice. A voice filled with rage and thinly-veiled hurt. “Do what you want. It shouldn’t matter to me, anyway.”
As she yanked her shirt back over her head and walked away, Blake wanted to call out to her. She wanted to ask her to come back. But she knew that wasn’t the right thing – the responsible thing – to do.
So she didn’t.
Chapter 9
Andi was fuming as she stormed into her bedroom. Well, not her bedroom – the bedroom that Blake Turner had given her to sleep in. The room she had permitted her to sleep in. Andi was beginning to see that was the way things were with this woman. Either she said yes, or she said no, and everyone else had to go along with her verdict.
But Andi had news for her. She wasn’t anyone’s lackey; she wasn’t anyone’s dog on a chain. When it came right down to it, she couldn’t even think of any reason to stay here. What was this place to her? Who was Blake Turner to her? Nothing and no one, that’s what it all amounted to.
Feeling incredibly stupid, she realized that she had left her duffel bag downstairs. Every red cent she possessed was down in that bag, and she had just left it there, like some stupid teenage boy running off to chase a piece of ass. What a fucking moron.
She was just heading towards the door to make her way downstairs, when the cell phone in her boot began to vibrate.
“What the fuck?” she mumbled, reaching down to fish the phone out of her footwear.
Who could be trying to get in touch with her? The only ones who ever used to call or text her were Carmen and Rocko. That ho flew the coop ages ago, and Rock was pushing up daisies.
So why was her phone buzzing? She had a feeling it wasn’t Iggy J this time. He must have known by now he wasn’t getting that coke.
She felt a familiar sinking feeling when she saw the name attached to the text message.
Aaron.
Anything to do with her half-brother always caused her extreme anxiety. He’d lied to her, stolen from her, and he’d almost died in front of her like half a dozen times.
Not to mention the fact that he’d killed their father. She knew she couldn’t ever forget, but she’d tried, God, she’d tried to forgive him.
But it seemed like she couldn’t do that, either.
She didn’t want to even read the text. She didn’t want to see what he had to say. But every time she thought these things, she pictured him lying in an alley somewhere, starving and half-dead. And that thought always made her read the text.
In trouble. Need your help. 312 Robinson Street. Please, Andi.
She sighed heavily, then stowed the phone back in her boot. Of course she didn’t want to go. But then again, she felt absolutely ridiculous and useless in Blake Turner’s house, and she really didn’t want to be here anymore. At least this was an excuse to leave.
She slipped silently out of the bedroom and crept down the hall towards the landing of the staircase, her eyes fixed on Blake’s bedroom door. She really, really hoped that the other woman wouldn’t show herself while she was trying to make her escape. Considering the way they’d left things a few minutes ago, though, Andi wasn’t inclined to think that Blake would be seeking out her company anytime soon. If ever again. Which was fine with her.
At least, that’s what she told herself as she went down the stairs. Honestly, even if she felt differently (which she probably did), she wouldn’t have been at all willing to admit it to herself. She’d already been pretty cynical after Carmen screwed her over. But now that Rocko and her crew were dead, and she’d finally realized that you couldn’t count on anyone or anything in this world, she felt jaded as fuck.
She went downstairs to the entryway, eyed her duffel bag on the floor where she’d left it, but figured this wasn’t the best time to take it with her. She had no idea what sort of place she was going to, and she didn’t even have a car to keep the bag locked up in. Besides, Blake Turner was so goddamn rich, she highly doubted that she would stoop to stealing money from a drug-dealing gang member.
But of course that didn’t mean she was happy about leaving her money behind. She glanced at it one more time and sighed heavily as she went out the door.
Luckily, old Albert wasn’t around to advise her against the folly of wandering out into the night. Which he surely would have done, because that’s what Blake would have wanted him to do. And it seemed like he
pretty much did whatever the woman asked of him.
But then again – so did everyone else.
This thought stoked her anger anew, and she slammed the door behind her. Probably not the wisest thing to do, considering she was trying to be stealthy, but she supposed that was why she’d never gone the catburglaring route.
She entered the address from Aaron’s text into Google Maps, carefully examining the directions toward her destination. Contrary to her expectations, it seemed that Robinson Street was in the uptown neighborhood, not down in the slums where she’d thought she would be going.
She looked at Blake’s Audi, seriously contemplating hotwiring it. She could find the tracker and remove it. But no – this wouldn’t be like any car she’d ever boosted before. It would actually feel like . . . stealing. She wasn’t quite sure why, but that was how it felt.
She waited until she got a few streets away, then called a cab. It was still about ten miles to Robinson Street, and she had absolutely no intention of walking that far.
The cab pulled up alongside the curb, and the driver eyed her strangely. He was obviously wondering what she was doing calling a cab from the middle of Rich People Central.
She slid into the backseat, which smelled less like blood, sweat and piss than the cabs she was used to downtown. She relayed the directions to the driver. She still had a wad of cash in her pocket from earlier, so she’d have no trouble paying him.
“Robinson Street, huh?” the driver inquired. “That’s a pretty swanky neighborhood. You going to a party?”
He looked at her in the rearview mirror, eyeballing her hardly-chic ensemble of jeans and Batman T-shirt. Nosy-ass motherfucker.
“Something like that,” she mumbled.
For all she knew, a party was exactly where she was headed. A complete blitz decked out with top-shelf liquor and designer drugs. It wouldn’t be the first time Aaron had wiggled his way into something like that. He might not have been the classiest guy, but he was handsome, and he could be charming when he wanted something.
Which of course made Andi think of the two women who had ended up knocking on her fucking door looking for child support after Aaron knocked them up. They’d been so pissed, she’d had to wave around the Glock that she kept next to her bed for emergency purposes. She hadn’t really planned on shooting either of them – well, she probably hadn’t – but sometimes the only way to get a bitch to skedaddle is to threaten to pop a cap in their ass.
Voltana & the Rogue Vamps (The Voltana Adventures Book 1) Page 7