by M. L. Guida
She ignored him and heated a bottle up in the microwave. A metallic scent filled the kitchen. Jayden’s sharp remarks had ceased, and his blue eyes burned with hunger. The microwave dinged, and she took out the bottle and filled a wineglass. She handed it to him. “Go ahead—”
He snatched it out of her hand and downed the drink, blood dribbling down his chin. He slammed the glass down. Misery filled his eyes, and his shoulders drooped. “What’s come over me?”
“I told you the hunger.” She handed him a paper towel. “Wipe your face.”
“How long does this hunger last?”
“Forever.”
He stopped wiping his face. “Great, I’ll always be a danger to people? What have you done to me?”
“What part of me saving your life do you not get?”
He snorted and shook his head like a bull about to charge. She refused to be drawn into another debate with him. “I told you, you’ll learn to control it. You need to learn how to manage the hunger then you’ll be free to be with humans.”
“I don’t know if you realized it, Sherlock, but I happen to be the lead singer in a rock band, and it’s freakin’ Christmas. I don’t intend to live here in your luxury prison forever. I have a life. Or at least, I had one. Before you.”
His anger astonished her. What would he do if he knew when they’d first met she’d fed on him? She licked her lips, remembering how succulent and spicy his blood had been. Her incisors lengthened. God forgive her, but she wanted to feast on him again. The man was dangerous.
She wished she could let him leave so she wouldn’t be tempted by him, but she’d be putting all the people in Frisco at risk. Newly turned vampires could wipe out an entire town before the hunger passed. She refused to let that happen to this peaceful little place. "You're impossible. You can’t go out alone without being a walking blood-drainer.”
He finished dabbing his mouth. What would it be like to kiss the blots of blood staining his lips? She actually wished she was the paper towel that was having all the fun.
“Then come with me,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m supposed to sing tomorrow tonight, and I promised my mother I’d come home tonight.”
She fiddled with the thin fuzzy belt wrapped around her waist. “That’s impossible.”
Suspicion smoldered his eyes. “Why? Afraid to let your slave out of your sight?”
She squirmed under his hostile glare. Even angry, he was beautiful. “That’s not it at all. You’re not a slave.”
He leaned back on the stool. “Then what?”
She dropped the thin belt. “I donna like to go out.”
He scrunched up his face sideways as if he were trying to piece together the strange puzzle she was telling him. “You’re losing me.”
She paced back and forth in the kitchen, and her trembling fingers fumbled with braiding a thick strand of her hair. “I donna like to go where there’s people.”
“Don’t like to associate with your food supply?”
She itched to slap the sneer off his handsome face. “You’re preposterous,” she said, tossing the braid behind her shoulder. “I like to stay home where it’s safe.”
Vampire killers came in all forms, old, young, man, woman and she got tired of always having to fight to survive.
“Safe? Safe from whom? You’re the predator.”
“Vampires are not the only predators in the world, Jayden. Your Desmond Carver is an accomplished hunter.”
He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Okay, he likes to hunt. What of it?”
She put her hands on the counter and gripped it tight, thinking of all the friends she’d lost to Carver and his kind. Remembering finding their remains, heads severed, bodies burned, and the agony she felt over their loss. “Has he told you his favorite prey?”
“Elk. He likes to use a bow and arrow.”
“Is that what he tells people? The liar.”
“I don’t—”
“Desmond likes to hunt vampires, then he tortures them. It’s his idea of a good time. He doesna care whether the vampires killed humans or drank donated blood. For him, the only good vampire, is a dead vampire.”
“You’re wrong. He feels guilty after killing a deer or an elk. Has to make amends with the animal’s spirit.”
She walked around the counter until she was inches from Jayden, refusing to allow his alluring scent to distract her.
Gritting her teeth, she wished she could use the Vulcan mind meld to get him to understand. “For him, vampires are lower than animals. He thinks of them as spiders and squashes them under his foot.”
“I don’t believe you.”
His gaze flashed over her, and he scoffed as if she were the little girl who cried wolf.
“I’ve known him my whole life and have never seen this supposed dark side of him.”
She clenched her fist as if she clutched a dagger, and with each word, she slammed her fist into his muscular chest. “Desmond Carver has killed over twenty of my friends. Vampires who didna kill people. Vampires who were like me. He hunted each of them down and killed them, but not right away. He let them flounder in anguish.”
Jayden jolted backward from her punches. Pain flickered in his eyes, and his mouth tightened. Why couldn’t he admit she’d hurt him?
She stepped away, afraid she’d left more than bruises. With her finger, she drew outlines of flames on the counter. “He likes to amuse himself by chaining vampires to stakes in the ground during broad daylight. He leaves his victims until they’re blistering and bursting into flames before he brings them into darkness only to hurt them again.” Her voice cracked and faded, and tears formed in her eyes as she remembered Desmond catching one of her old friends—Bernice. She could hear the crackling and smell the stench of burning flesh. Bernice had screamed in agony, begging for mercy, but she’d received none. Eleanor had hidden in the shadows, ashamed and powerless.
She shook her head, refusing to shed more tears, and met Jayden’s captivated gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. He reached for her, but she eluded his grasp.
He blinked, deep lines forming on his forehead. He obviously wasn’t used to women shying away from him. If he kissed her, she was afraid she’d lose her concentration, and he would talk her into setting him free. And she’d let loose a ravenous monster.
She licked her dry lips, trying to forget the memory of tasting vampire ashes. “Sometimes he bleeds them slowly and rubs salt into the wounds. Or forces them to eat food.”
“Food? I can never eat again?”
His lonesome voice broke her heart, and she wished she could tell him his life hadn’t changed. It was a lie, and she refused to start their relationship with untruths. “You will be able to tolerate it for a little while, but soon, your diet will consist of blood. When we eat, we become violently sick.”
“Why would Desmond force vampires to eat food?”
“For information. Pain and torture have always been a persuasive means of exacting the truth.”
He scanned her eyes, and she wished she had the ability to read his thoughts. Some vampires possessed the ability to mind read, but she did not.
“I don’t believe you.”
Crushed, she lowered her head at his steely words. He’d be dead by the end of the week.
“Desmond is one of the most loyal persons I know. My best friend. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”
“You’re wrong.”
He turned to walk past, and she had no choice but to grab his muscular arms and dig her nails into his flesh. She was desperate to get through his thick skull. “You’d better believe it. He might be kind to humans, but you’re one of us now. And he’ll hunt you down and kill you like he’s done with the rest of us. You’re his sworn enemy. A vampire.”
He struggled within her grip. “Let go of me,” he growled.
She released him. “Do you believe me?”
He slid off the chair. “No.”
Hope died within her. His arrogance and denial would get him killed.
“I’m leaving,” he said. “Unless you’ve got some dungeon you want to throw me in, I’m walking out of here. You said I wasn’t a prisoner, now prove it.”
Blood rushed to her face, and she flung her arms high over her head. “You’re going to walk out of here, even though I’ve told you that you’ll go on a killing spree?”
“You said if you were with me, you could stop it. The choice is yours.”
“You’re as thick as manure, but only half as useful.”
He furrowed his brow and crossed his thick arms over his chest. Why had she thought she could ever convince a wild rock singer to do what she wanted? For a split second, she considered chaining him to the chair naked. His arms stretched behind his back, ankles tied to the chair legs. Hers to gaze upon, to kiss and touch at her leisure. Warmth spread over her body. Lord, what was she thinking?
“Well,” he asked. “What’s your answer?”
“Can I at least get dressed?”
“Sure, but don’t take too long or by the time you’re done, I’ll be gone.”
She stormed out of the kitchen to her bedroom. She didn’t bother telling the fool that since she’d turned him, she could find him anywhere. Her blood flowed through his veins.
Using vampire speed, Eleanor quickly showered, did her hair, and dressed. Even with her fast pace, she worried he’d leave. She hurried out of her bedroom and down the hall.
Jayden sat on the recliner with a glass of red wine in his hand. His eyes widened. “Wow, that was fast. You were only gone for a few minutes.”
“Vampires move quicker than humans,” she said, straightening her long white sweater. “I want to look nice when I meet your mother. Is this all right to wear?”
He cast his gaze over her, and heat rushed over her body. She wanted to rip off her sweater and jeans for the relief. What was wrong with her? Men weren’t to be trusted. Why was she drawn to a man she barely knew? A selfish rock star who, at the first turn, would stomp her heart. But then there was the other side, the tender champion who had saved her life. He was such a contradiction.
“You look fine.” His voice was husky-spicy and fiery-hot.
She tried to ignore his appreciative stare and folded her arms across her breasts. “I see you discovered that you can drink wine?”
He placed the glass onto the end table. “I wanted to see what I can tolerate. I take it Christmas dinner is off limits?”
“I’m sorry, but yes.”
He stood. “You sure do know how to be a Grinch.”
“You would have died, Jayden. I didna have many choices.”
He didn’t answer and headed to the door. “Shall we?”
“Where are we going?”
“My mom’s.”
“Oh.” A lump of coal formed in her stomach. “Are you sure—”
“Eleanor,” he said. He opened the door. “I’ve waited for you to get dressed. Don’t expect me to stay locked in your luxury prison.”
“I told you. You’re not a prisoner.” She stomped over to her coat closet, grabbed her heavy black cloak, and slipped a derringer into her pocket. Vampire killers were a plague, and she’d needed to be more prepared. The post office fiasco proved that her foolishness of feeling safe was pure fantasy. “All right, let’s go.”
He bowed slightly. “Ladies first. Or should I say mistresses first?”
She rolled her eyes. “I have a car. We donna have to walk.”
He shut the front door. “Fine, lead the way.”
She turned on her heel. He followed her like a second shadow, his masculine scent playing havoc with her senses. She pretended to ignore him as she grabbed her purse and car keys, but her breath quickened, her fangs lengthened. No. She wouldn’t sink her fangs into his tempting flesh. She pressed the garage door button, impatient for the creaky wooden door to open. Snow twirled around outside. A blast of wind swooshed flakes inside. They fell on the silver Hummer, red Jaguar convertible, and black Superlow Harley.
Lust flickered in Jayden’s eyes. “These are yours?”
She frowned, hating his women-aren’t-capable-of-driving-male-toys tone. “Yes, why?”
“Have some money, do you?”
She slowly relaxed. She was tired of the dumb macho remarks about her cars and bikes. Janus hadn’t approved of her choice in vehicles. He wanted her to drive a safe car like a Toyota Camry. Ridiculous.
Jayden glided his hand over the seat of the Harley as slow as if it was the backside of a woman’s ass. His strong fingers mesmerized her, and her throat ran dry.
He caught her staring, and a wiry grin spread across his face.
She glanced away, heat staining her cheeks. “I’ve been a vampire for over a hundred years. My wealth along with my powers has grown.” Her voice came out sharper than she intended.
He gave her a curious glance.
Get hold of yourself. She clicked her keyless remote, and the headlights on the Hummer flashed. “Shall we?”
“Can I drive?”
“No.”
He blocked her path. “Why?”
“Why? I donna know you, and these are my babies.” His masculine scent stirred her insides that had been dormant for so long. Her rapid heart-beat matched the rattling of the garage door hinges. She pressed her arms to her side to keep her hands from running up his wide chest and tried to step around him, but it was like trying to escape from a moving brick wall.
“Oh, you don’t know me well enough to allow me to drive one of your precious cars, but you do know me well enough to transform me into a vampire?”
She sighed. He wasn’t making this easy, and damn it, he was right. “You promise you’ll be careful?”
His eyes brightened, and a dazzling smile spread across his rugged face. “Yeah, I’ll be careful. I’m a great driver.”
Before she could hand him the keys, he ripped them out of her hand, dashed over to the driver’s side, and climbed inside. The driver’s seat was pushed up close to the wheel and his knees squished up against his chest. “Damn, do you have this set for a midget?”
She shook her head and mumbled under breath. “Well, it’s definitely not set for Hercules.”
He reset the driver’s seat to stretch out his long legs. He lifted an eyebrow and flashed her a cocky smile. She groaned. He might as well as be sixteen years old again, sitting behind the wheel of his first car, ready to squeal out of the driveway. He revved the engine, and Eleanor’s stomach tumbled. She was allowing a reckless rock star to drive one of her babies. She jerked her seat-belt into place and dug her nails into the leather door handle.
Please don’t crash it.
“Worried?” he asked.
“No,” she lied.
He laughed. Chills rolled over her back, and she trembled. She liked the sound of his laugh. Crisp. Masculine. Lyrical.
She stared straight ahead and refused to look at his teasing face. He pulled out of the driveway, and the SUV crunched over packed snow and ice. He drove it out onto the white road and picked up speed, sending powder flying into the air.
She closed her eyes, afraid he’d wrap her baby around a tree. She loved the SUV. The heated leather seats warmed her bottom. The radio turned on, and his throaty voice came over the speakers. She froze. Shit, she’d left the CD player on with his music.
“You listen to Nightmare?”
She opened her eyes and stared out the window. “I heard your band the other night and bought one of your CD’s.” She didn’t bother to tell him that she owned every one.
“Where? In Breckenridge?”
Heat rushed over her cheeks. “Yes.” Her voice squeaked, and she wanted to melt into the seat.
“You’re actually a stalker?”
“You’d rather have me leave you for dead?” She instantly regretted her harsh words.
He didn’t answer her and turned up the volume. Since she’d turned him, she could have read his tho
ughts, but she blocked her ability. Didn’t want to hear them. It was bad enough hearing the scorn in his voice.
The SUV skidded as he rounded a corner. She wanted to yell at him to be careful, but that would mean talking, and she didn’t want to talk, to hear accusation in his voice.
They drove past Frisco Elementary school and headed for Pitkin Street and onto Stellar Jay Road. She’d walked down Stellar Jay Road many times, admiring the small cabins nestled in between the large modern ones. The historic cabins reminded her of simpler times, before Frisco had become a mecca for skiers and bikers. The town had been quieter, homier.
Jayden pulled the SUV into a circle drive in front of a brown, two-story log cabin. Dual flood lights shone on the snowy ground. Smoke swirled out of the brick fireplace, and a Christmas tree twinkled through the living room window. A black adventure Honda motorcycle with twin cylinder engines was parked in front of the house. Snow dusted the seat and handle bars. With its wide handle bars, taller seat, and red letters that spelled out Nightmare on the tank cover, it was like the man—dark and mysterious.
“Yours?” she asked.
“Yes, I’ll drive it back.”
Jayden turned off the engine and opened the car door. The front door swung open, and a woman raced outside. Wearing brown slippers, a blue sweat shirt, and matching sweat pants, she hurried over to Jayden. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Jayden,” she cried. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been so worried.”
Her voice shook. She buried her face onto Jayden’s chest.
The door slammed opened again. Desmond Carver ran over to Jayden. Eleanor’s nerves tightened, and her breath caught in her throat. She slipped her hand into her coat pocket and clutched the derringer, in case Desmond whipped out a stake to stab her thundering heart.
“Jayden,” Desmond said. “Where have you been, dude?” He was taller than Jayden by a couple of inches, and Jayden was a tall man.
“Mom, I’m sorry,” Jayden said. “I should have called.” He nodded at Desmond. “You’ve been staying with my mom. Thanks, as always, bro.”
“When she called me, she was hysterical. I don’t see how you could do this to your mother after what happened with Jacob.” He took a step back, staring hard at Jayden. “You seem…different.”