The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar (Sam Quinn Book 1)

by Seana Kelly

  A soft whistle sounded from above. And there he was, standing atop the ten-foot memorial. I sneezed, a strange scent in my nose, and took off running out of the cemetery. Clive ran like he had wings on his feet, easily keeping pace with me. We descended a slope and crossed a deserted road, leading to the stables. The horses knew my scent and didn’t fuss much. Tonight, though, I had an unknown vampire with me.

  As we got close, the horses neighed and stamped. I didn’t want to upset them, so I veered to the south to a larger open area we could play in. The grass was high. Clive stood in the middle of the meadow, his arms crossed as though bored and waiting me out. I stalked him like a lion on the Serengeti. When I crept close, his scent filling my nose, I pounced and ended up sprawled in the dirt. Where the hell did he go? Searching, I found him thirty feet away, checking his watch. Bastard.

  Slinking through the tall grass, I moved with the bending stalks, mirroring the waves created by the wind. There. Just ahead. A shadow passed over the moon, and I sprung. He was gone, and I was eating dirt again. He was close, though. I couldn’t see him, but I felt him. Executing a flip I hadn’t realized I had in me, I pounced on shimmering air and knocked a smug Clive on his ass. Laughing, he hugged me to his chest, and I settled in, content with my prize.

  Clive lay back, one arm beneath his head, the other around me, fingers in my fur, as he gazed up at the moon. “It’s a good night,” he said, his voice relaxed.

  A horse’s neigh had my ears twitching.

  Clive tensed beneath me. “Do you hear it, too? A kind of deep thrumming in the ground. Almost like…” He was up in a blink, his hand on my head as I stood alert at his side. “Someone’s coming. Go!”

  We raced across the field, arrowing our way back past the horses to the cemetery and the monument. Leaving the tall grass, I was bowled over and knocked off my feet by a heavy wolf. Snarling, I circled. Never again. I didn’t care what I had to do, but I would never be at the mercy of another wolf.

  He sprang and I launched myself straight up, snapped my jaws around his throat and shook him violently. His neck snapped as I slammed his body to the ground.

  “Run, Sam. Don’t stop. I’ll be right behind you.”

  We ran. Off to the west, I heard the horses neighing again. Clive fell back and came up on my other side, so he was between me and the stables. I could smell it now, too. There were more wolves with us tonight. As we ran, Clive pushed me further east so we would be as far from the stables as possible while still running for the cemetery.

  Wolves bayed to the west. They were closer than the stables now. They’d scented us, as well. I ran as fast as I could, but the wolves were pounding toward us from the side. Our paths were about to intersect. I doubted we’d make it to the monument before being overtaken.

  A golden-eyed wolf with a rangy, brown body charged out of the underbrush to the west. He was coming straight for me, his scent hitting like a sledgehammer. Randy. He leaped in the air. I skidded to a stop and then Clive was flying over the top of me. He seized the wolf and flung him into the nearest tree. I could smell blood, hear a whine, and a scrabble of claws on dirt, but Clive wouldn’t let me stop.

  More wolves circled, looking for a weak spot. As they attacked, I ran to Clive’s side, claws tearing open the fur of those in my path. We carved our way through them and didn’t stop.

  We were just rounding the last row of grave markers, when a wolf dove at Clive. As Clive grappled with one, another skulked up behind him. The strategy had changed. They were going to take Clive down first.

  I barreled into the wolf, tearing a chunk off his ear. I had his neck in my jaws, my teeth sinking in, blood on my tongue. They would not get past me. The wolf yanked away, leaving fur between my teeth. I sprang back to stand at Clive’s back, a deep growl of possessiveness rumbling through my chest.

  A reddish-brown one tried to slink by me, but it wasn’t happening. I wouldn’t let them draw me away. When he was close, I pounced. Claws longer and sharper than I’d ever seen them tore through his muzzle and down his flank. Blood gushed from the wounds, and I gloried in it, grateful I had weapons to protect my own.

  “Sam, go!” I looked back and saw dead and dying wolves piled all around us.

  The great, black monument was close. I charged for it, knowing Clive would be at my heels. I dove through the entrance, skidding to a stop in the tunnel. Clive didn’t follow. I paced the narrow tunnel. Where was he?

  A few minutes later, he stepped through, and I snapped my teeth. He crouched down, and I went to him. “I had to make sure no more were coming. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He rubbed his hands through my fur. “I also needed to call Russell to take care of the bodies. A pack of dead and dying wolves in the city will set off alarms.”

  I pressed my cold nose to his ear, making him flinch. And that’s what he got for worrying me.

  “Come on, let’s get you home.”

  I trotted in the lead, down the dark tunnel, unaware the night was far from over.

  Twenty-Nine

  Wherein Sam’s Anxiety Has a Drink in the Bar and Leaves Her the Hell Alone

  We made our way back down the tunnel towards my apartment. The bookcase was still open. I trotted in and collapsed on the carpet, exhausted. Magic filled the room, and I was back in my human skin. Clive stepped in and closed the bookcase.

  I squinted one eye open and studied him. “Are you hurt?”

  Crouching, Clive ran a fingertip over my shoulder. A scar ran across my chest and over that shoulder. Instead of avoiding it, his finger brushed right over the top, as though it didn’t matter. “Of course not. My only concern was you. You may be fierce, Sam, but you are still far more breakable than I am.”

  Feeling conspicuously naked, I scrambled up off the floor and rushed to the bathroom. “Be right back.” I took a shower and then slathered on nice-smelling lotion. While brushing out tangles in my hair, I accidentally caught sight of myself in the mirror. My green eyes were too large. They appeared haunted in the harsh light. I refused to look below my neck, refused to let the scars cow me tonight. My traitorous gaze went unerringly to the scar on my lower lip. I’d bitten myself the night of the attack. Unrelenting pain had caused me to bite through my own lip. The scar was faint, but I knew it was there.

  I’d forgotten to bring in clothes with me, damn it. Wrapping the towel around myself, I shook off rising nerves. I’d just taken down wolves. I could walk ten feet across a room.

  The quiet tap at the door made me jump. Tugging on the towel to make it cover more, I opened the door. Clive handed me an overnight case. It was black with an image of lush flowers standing out against the dark fabric.

  “I wanted you to have a proper overnight bag. There are a few things inside I thought you might like here.”

  “Clive.”

  “Sam.”

  “Didn’t we discuss you buying me things?” I loved the bag. I didn’t want to give it back, but I felt weird about the gifts. I’d been on the struggling side of barely making it before San Francisco and The Slaughtered Lamb. I was now on the I-can-eat-and-cover-emergency-expenses side of making it, which eased the tightness in my shoulders, but gifts still made me uncomfortable. Although, if I was being honest with myself, this was the longest I’d ever lived in one place and that was due to Clive’s original gift.

  “I believe we did, and we decided that it was acceptable as it brought me joy.” The grin on his face did funny, jumpy things to my stomach.

  “That doesn’t sound like me.”

  “You were distracted, so you may have missed a few key points, but you definitely agreed to gifts.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and nudged me out of the way, while pulling the door closed.

  “You were pulling a vampy mind trick on me, weren’t you?”

  He sighed. “That word.”

  “Trick?” I grinned, as the door was shut in my face.

  I hugged the beautiful bag to my chest, before placing it on the counter and opening it. More silk
jammies, though this time they were lilac. Underneath, there were more panties and bras. I tossed the towel over the bar to dry and slipped on the panties and pajamas. I couldn’t help but run my hand up my arm, enjoying the softness.

  I found two more sweaters, three long-sleeve tops in a supple knit that drew my fingers, as well. Beneath those items, two more pairs of jeans and a pair of black trousers. There was something hard beneath the pants. I dug down and yanked it up. A black ankle boot. He’d given me a pair of shoes to wear with the black pants, since the only footwear I owned was running shoes. The man didn’t miss a trick.

  Smiling to myself, I brushed my teeth, gave my hair one last pass, and checked out my reflection. My eyes were less haunted, and my scars were covered. He’d seen it all and hadn’t shied away from me. I blew out a quick breath and opened the door.

  Clive was sitting on the bed. When I appeared, he rose. “You look beautiful. That color is lovely on you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “My turn,” he said, slipping past me into the bathroom, a black leather overnight case in his hand.

  I had just enough time to freak out and then calm down before the water turned off.

  When the door opened, he came to me, slipping a hand down my arm before holding my hand. “May I stay?”

  Nodding, I leaned into him. Strong arms crushed me. His mouth took mine with a ferocity I met and returned. I waited for the panic to set in, for the sweating and nausea to overtake me. They didn’t. It was just the two of us. My fear—a usual third wheel—had decided to sit this one out.

  Clive made a purring sound in the back of his throat. It should have made me laugh, but I felt an accompanying purr in my chest. I hadn’t realized he’d been dancing me across the floor, until I felt the bed at the back of my knees. “Just full of vampy moves, aren’t you?”

  He picked me up and threw me across the bed. “That word.” He sounded disgusted, but he couldn’t hide his grin.

  I giggled uncontrollably, propping myself up on my elbows so I could watch what he did next. “Wait a minute. Are you wearing jeans? And how am I just noticing this?”

  Knee on the bed, he instead straightened, posing. “Do you like them? I changed after the shower. They’re my first pair.”

  Oh my God, how cute was he? “How is this your first pair? Aren’t you older than dir—”

  “You? Yes, I am.” He shrugged. “Vampires are formal creatures. We don’t do blue jeans.”

  “You do.”

  “I do now.”

  He unbuttoned his dress shirt and pulled it free from his jeans, before crawling up on the bed. He caged me in without touching, arms braced on the mattress, body held above. And then he slowly lowered his head and kissed me and kissed me.

  I could do this. I ran my hands over his chest, down his abdomen. The purring sounded in his throat again, and I smiled against his lips. I broke for air and said, “I have an idea.”

  With a gleam in his eye, he flopped down next to me. “Do tell.”

  “I’ve been thinking. Maybe, if you’d be willing, you can lie down and not move. Let me be the one who touches…” I didn’t know how to explain it.

  “Yes. I like this idea. Consider me your boy-toy. We do whatever you want and nothing more.”

  My stomach fluttered at the thought. “Really? Anything I want?”

  “Anything at all.” He tore off his shirt. “Within reason. Don’t set me on fire or stake me through the heart. Omitting that, I’m all yours.”

  I sat cross-legged and studied the man before me, from his heart-stopping face, down his strong, muscular body, to his— “You have nice feet.”

  He looked down, nodding. “Yes, I’ve always thought so.”

  I giggled and he glowed, watching me. I could do this. I reached a trembling hand and touched soft denim, his leg beneath. The fingers of my other hand ran down his stomach, tracing the lines of his abdominals. I heard a harsh intake of breath, but he didn’t move. I could see him straining at his button fly, but still he didn’t move.

  Feeling more confident, I leaned forward and placed a kiss in the dip at the base of his pecs. I heard a slow exhale. I could do this. I swung a leg over and sat on his thighs. I waited for anxiety’s claws to rip holes in my lungs, but she was staying on the sidelines. At a guess, I’d say she was in the bar with a bottle of tequila.

  The scent of his arousal filled my head, making me want things I never thought I would. Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I tipped forward, dropping soft kisses up his stomach, over his chest, at the notch in his collar bone. I ran my hands over his broad shoulders. Clive watched me, his heart in his eyes, as I made my way past the fear to find him.

  My gaze dropped to his jeans. I could do this. Fearsome, not fearful. I reached for his waistband, unbuttoning his jeans.

  “Thank God,” he said in a low, restrained voice.

  I snorted a laugh, unsure but willing. I popped the button fly. His erection pushed at the black, silk boxers. With trembling, tentative fingers, I brushed down his length. His body jolted, but he restrained himself, hands fisted at his side.

  I stepped off the bed and grabbed the legs of his jeans, pulling them off easily. He watched me, his eyes heated.

  I touched the waistband of his boxers and then hesitated.

  “Leave them on for now.”

  I nodded, more comfortable with that. I climbed back on the bed and straddled him. I let my fingers play across his stomach and chest, before leaning down to kiss him.

  “Can I touch you?” He whispered.

  I nodded. My heart was beating so fast, I was afraid I was going to stroke out.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know,” I breathed.

  He sat up and cupped my face in his hands, kissing me softly, reverently. His fingers slid down my neck and over my shoulders, pulling me close, as his kisses meandered over my cheek and along my jaw. When the tips of his fangs grazed my throat, I shivered in anticipation.

  His hands found my breasts as his kisses drove me insane. I reached for the collar button of my pajama top, wanting to feel his hands on me, needing his skin on mine.

  “Let me this time,” he said, kissing my body, scars and all, as he exposed it. A moment later, my top was dropped by the side of the bed. He leaned back, his hands skating over my skin, his eyes feasting on my body. “Exquisite.”

  It should have embarrassed me, would have if I hadn’t heard the absolute truth in his words. His hands settled on my hips, his thumbs sliding back and forth over my stomach and under the pajama waistband. In his gaze, I was seen. I was accepted. More, I was treasured.

  “Clive?”

  “Hmm?” His gaze traveled up and met mine.

  “Will you make love to me?” I could do this.

  Before my next breath, he had our positions reversed, most of his weight on one side, his head propped in his hand, his other hand resting between my breasts. “We will if that’s truly what you want, but there’s no hurry. No finish line, remember. We can touch and kiss until we’ve had our fill, and then we can sleep, wrapped in each other.” He rolled my necklace back and forth. “That sounds perfect.”

  I sighed. “It does.” I ran my hand through his thick hair, over his brow, down his nose. My fingertips and brain cataloging and memorizing. I’d felt the change and instinctively knew what it meant. I needed to store as many sense memories as possible. Wolves mated for life. Clive was mine. I hadn’t accepted it when I’d first felt my heart open to make a place for him. He wasn’t a wolf. I wanted nothing to do with wolves ever again, so I’d assumed I’d be forever alone. Maybe, when I was feeling stronger, decades in the future, I’d eventually take lovers, but there’d be no mate because there’d be no wolf.

  Vampires didn’t mate for life, like werewolves. He’d move on, but I never would. And so, I needed to save as much of him as I could for the long life I’d live after he’d left.

  Thirty

  The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly


  I ran my thumb over his bottom lip, along his strong jaw. “I’m ready.”

  His answering kiss was soft and sweet, a cherishing kiss that brought me to tears. “Shh,” he said against my lips. “You can change your mind. At any point. If pleasure turns to panic, we stop. Yes?”

  I nodded.

  “Good.” He took it slow, dragging open mouth kisses down my body, over my breasts and stomach. When he reached my pajama bottoms, he paused, waiting.

  I ran my hands through his thick hair and nodded.

  He slid them off, before resuming his kisses. His lips and tongue drove me over the edge. When he settled his mouth at my core, I had a moment of nerves, but they disappeared the moment he touched me. Hands fisted, forcing myself not to yank that beautiful hair, I rode the onslaught. Gasping for air, heart hammering, I realized I’d found a new best way to die. The pressure built and built, and with a moan, broke over me. I was a quivering, shuddering mess, and still Clive didn’t stop.

  Once my limbs were under my own control again, I tapped his head with a murmured, “Clive?”

  He looked up, eyes vamp-black, fangs extended. “Yes?”

  “Could you come back up here?”

  “I’m a little busy. Could I get back to you in a few?”

  My laugh ended on a groan when his tongue gave one last swirl. He kissed and nibbled and licked as he moved north, spending considerable time on my breasts. When his mouth fused with mine, I thought my heart would break free of my chest. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, never wanting to let go, and realized he was still wearing his boxers.

  I broke the kiss. “You seem to be overdressed for this next part.”

  He smiled and kissed my chin. “There doesn’t need to be a next part if you’re not ready.”