Dante stood up, straightening to his full height. “I’m a hunter. Maybe you should try acting more like my partner and less like a vampire.”
My nostrils flared. “I am a vampire, you stubborn ox! And so are you.”
Dante’s chest puffed up. “I will always be a hunter. The police don’t stop tracking criminals just because they’re human. The military doesn’t just turn a blind eye and give terrorists a free pass for being part of the human race.”
“And they don’t stop eating and drinking because they have the same diet as supposed criminals. Blood nourishes us, plain and simple.” I looked at Dante’s bloody knife and smiled deviously. “Go ahead. Lick the blade. I dare you.”
“Not a chance,” Dante answered.
“Big surprise. Well, if you’re not having it, I don’t see any reason to let it go to waste.”
I took a step toward him, not sure what had gotten into me. Maybe I was done denying my natural instincts. Not only had I escaped the agency, but their toxins were out of me. Their hold over me was a thing of the past. Right now, I was free and clear.
My nerves were all abuzz. The taste of Arlo’s blood had me salivating for more. The adrenaline rush it provided had come and gone much too fast.
Dante could judge me all he wanted. He was the one in denial.
I expected him to take a step back or hold the knife up high, out of reach, or wipe the blade. But a gleam came over his eyes, one I couldn’t discern until he moved the blade below his ear and swiped it against his neck.
I gasped, thinking for one horrific moment that he would slit his throat. Such an action was completely out of character, but my heart constricted against logic for the briefest moment.
Dante holstered the knife and grinned, a silent dare across his lips. The blood smear on his neck beckoned like the glaze across a warm pastry.
My stomach gurgled the slightest bit. Will power be damned, this was biology. If stranded in the desert, a person wouldn’t forgo drinking at the appearance of water.
What did Dante think? That wiping the blood on his neck would stop me? If anything, it made licking it up even more appealing. I’d sooner suck blood off warm skin than a cold, sharp knife.
Wordlessly, I filled the space in front of him and leaned against his chest. He was a solid mass, yet his body radiated warmth and his flannel shirt felt soft as it brushed against my cheek. The blood on Dante’s neck beckoned from inches away. I answered it with my tongue, pulling him forward at the same time I closed my eyes. Dante’s flannel shirt bunched inside my tightening fists. It didn’t take long to lick his neck clean. My throat tingled. My body hummed. I wanted more. I wanted to rip open Dante’s shirt and claw and bite his bare chest with my nails and teeth until I drew blood. I wanted to suck the droplets off his skin and show him exactly who his partner had become. I was a wild beast of a woman, and it had nothing to do with vampirism. Cabin fever wasn’t treating me very well.
In the frenzy of the moment, I began sucking Dante’s neck harder. The blood was gone, but I couldn’t stop. It was all I could do not to bite him and bring forth a wellspring of fresh blood dripping down his warm neck.
My eyes remained closed. It heightened my senses while hiding the visual of my actions. Maybe I was in denial too. I mean, I was sucking dead vampire blood off my ex-partner’s neck. That didn’t strike me as healthy behavior.
The blood is gone, I heard my voice say, as though coming from someone else inside my brain. The only thing left was the salty taste of Dante’s skin, which only magnified my thirst for more blood. If I didn’t back away soon, I might very well bite him.
I lifted my head, but before I could retreat, Dante captured my lips between his own. He sucked gently on my lower lip as though savoring a sweet before slipping his tongue inside my mouth.
Had the room gone dark or were my eyes still closed? I couldn’t see a thing, but I felt everything. The flick of Dante’s tongue against the roof of my mouth sent waves of pleasure rippling throughout my body. He look his time unzipping my coat. His nails grazed my T-shirt as his hands slid through my open jacket, finding my hips and gripping me firmly.
The kiss deepened into a carnal version of the Hunger Games—a battle of the lips. Mine felt blistered and bruised under Dante’s force, but that didn’t stop me from dishing it right back. I urged his lips apart and kissed with reckless abandon.
I didn’t want tenderness from Dante. In the heat of the moment, I wanted him to fill the void that threatened to devour me every day as we moved farther north and the dwindling hope I had of reuniting with Fane.
Maybe it was time to face reality. Perhaps this way it would finally sink in. My old life was gone. There was no going back.
I slipped my tongue inside Dante’s mouth and explored greedily.
Dante inhaled sharply then matched me in the action.
Damn it!
What had I just told myself about never kissing Dante? And now here I was Frenching the man.
Why did his lips have to feel so good? And his tongue.
No. That was the blood taking over. Dante knew as well as I did that blood riled up a vamp sexually. He was taking advantage of the situation. How dare he act like he was above bloodsucking then tempt me by smudging his own neck?
I forced my eyes open. Seeing Dante’s face right there up in mine was what I needed to get a grip. I jumped back as though I’d been scorched.
“What the hell, Dante?”
It didn’t help that his eyes had turned radiant since our mouths connected. A healthy glow covered his cheeks, including the one Pierce had bruised minutes before.
When Dante didn’t answer, I said, “That was all kinds of twisted.”
Killing vampires and kissing Dante with their corpses at our feet. Nope, didn’t get more messed up than that.
A smile spread across Dante’s chafed lips. “We both got what we wanted. You’re not the only one with cravings.”
“You’re a jerk,” I replied halfheartedly. Never mind that I was the one skating dangerously close to the line between friendship and false hope. That was putting it mildly. I’d crashed right through that icy barrier the moment I allowed Dante’s tongue inside my mouth.
The glow from seconds before turned an angry shade of red over Dante’s cheeks. “If caring about you makes me a jerk, then I guess so.”
My heart fractured at his words. Now I felt like the jerk.
Guilt aside, I had to stay firm. “This doesn’t change anything,” I said.
Dante folded his arms. His lips twitched. “Are you sure about that?”
At least he was smiling. Hurting him was the last thing I wanted to do.
He pulled out his walkie-talkie. “I’ll radio Giselle for a pickup.” He jammed his thumb against the talk button. “This is team leader Alpha. Site has been secured. Over.”
There was a crackle before Giselle’s voice came over the speaker. “On my way. Out.”
I looked around the cabin. “What should we do with the bodies?” Yes, dead bodies—always an effective way to steer a conversation elsewhere.
“Leave them,” Dante answered.
That was a relief. I’d never appreciated the agency’s cleaners more than I had after carrying bodies out of the shack where we’d encountered the first two hostiles. Hostiles. God, I was beginning to sound like Dante.
I looked over at where he stood, holding his arm up and sniffing under it. Dante lowered it and wrinkled his nose. “It’s been a rough few weeks. We could all use a hot shower and comfortable bed. I think we’ve earned a night in a motel.”
Shower. Bed. Those two things sounded like heaven on bedsprings. A motel, on the other hand, sounded like all kinds of trouble.
“Are we talking separate rooms?” I asked.
True luxury would be a shower, bed, and an evening all to myself.
Dante’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s the matter, Sky? Afraid of what might happen if we share a room?”
At the moment, my
concern was with the flirtatious tone of his voice. I wasn’t sure Dante was even aware of the way he was talking.
I ignored his taunt and crouched beside Arlo, searching his pockets until I found a thin leather wallet in his back jeans pocket.
“What are you doing?” Dante asked.
I straightened and nodded at the body on the floor. “Dude owes me fifty dollars.” The only thing inside the billfold was fifteen dollars in fives. Lying sack of shit. Figured. I pocketed the money and tossed the wallet on the ground beside Arlo’s body. “If Giselle’s willing to spring for rooms, I wouldn’t say no to a shower.”
Dante reattached the walkie-talkie to his belt and smiled at me. “I know a place outside Fairbanks. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s clean.”
Yeah, because the last thing I wanted were bedbugs. For all I knew, the insects wouldn’t bite vampires. Right. More likely they’d bite anything with blood, even type AB-undead.
The sound of an approaching truck filled the cabin. The engine cut. A few seconds later, Giselle walked in. She glanced at the bodies before walking past Dante and me to the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Dante asked.
Giselle stood on tiptoes and began opening cupboards.
I looked at Dante and rolled my eyes. “Checking for blood,” I answered for her.
After opening all the overhead cupboards, Giselle crouched and began searching the drawers below.
“They like it fresh,” I said, touching my neck and wincing.
Dante’s gaze became hooded as his eyes followed my fingertips to my neck. I glared back.
“That’s two less predators roaming the state,” Dante said. “My work here is done.”
He turned on his heel and tromped out of the cabin. I lingered a moment, watching Giselle in case she managed to sniff out some blood, but the sag of her shoulders confirmed what I’d suspected all along: Arlo and Pierce sourced their blood from live victims.
I joined Dante outside. He let Tommy out of the truck. The two of them traipsed into the woods, presumably to do business. Soon after, Dante jogged back to the road, whistling for Tommy as he did. The golden retriever bounded up behind him.
The forest had dimmed since we’d first walked in. Daylight was quickly fading.
Giselle emerged from the cabin and lifted her head to the sky. “How far is your friend’s cabin? It’s getting dark.”
“An hour at least,” Dante said. “We’ll head over tomorrow afternoon.”
“We’re returning to the fishing lodge?” Giselle asked.
“Negative. Tonight we’re splurging on a motel.”
Giselle’s eyebrows slanted. “You mean I am. I don’t see any reason to spend funds on a motel room.”
“Yeah? Have you smelled yourself lately?” Dante asked, teeth glinting when he smiled. “Come on, G. I’ll write you an IOU.”
“Help me locate Jared and consider your debt paid,” Giselle returned.
Once Tommy was in back of the truck, I hoisted myself inside. Giselle got in after me.
Dante started the truck and began humming as though turning on the ignition had also activated his vocal cords. The humming turned into lyrics as he sang the chorus of “Sugar” by Maroon 5.
He continued to sing the same tune. Somehow he’d managed to turn a four-minute song into a twenty-minute ballad. He was like a track on repeat.
Giselle stared out the window, not saying a word. Who knew what she was thinking? Maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. Maybe she was in sleep mode.
The sky darkened. As it did, Dante’s singing voice softened until it dropped to a low hum followed by silence. He tapped the wheel, eyes intent on the road.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Compared to the jostle and shake of the dirt road, the truck seemed to glide over the highway, the engine purring. It lulled me into a state of relaxation, and somehow, the impossible happened: I fell asleep in a moving vehicle.
Dante nudged me.
I groaned.
He nudged me again. “We’re here.”
I opened my eyes slowly and blinked. The truck was no longer moving. It was parked outside a two-story blue-gray motel.
When I looked to my right, I saw an empty seat.
“She’s getting our room,” Dante said. “Didn’t want to risk anyone recognizing us.”
I nodded. Grogginess was replaced by a flurry of nerves. Despite the allure of a shower, a mattress, and bedsheets, a motel probably wasn’t the best place to be after making out with Dante.
I’d never age, yet I suddenly felt like life was moving too fast. Jared hit my car and my life had spun out of control… and never stopped spinning.
I wasn’t supposed to be here—outside a motel in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, about to share a room with drives-me-crazy Dante. Dante… I didn’t even know if he had a last name. Dante: shoots first, asks questions later. Scratch that. Shoots first and eats pie after.
I sat up and wrapped my fingers around my wrist. My heart fluttered in panic. At least I hoped it was panic. Anything else would lead to trouble.
I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. Definite panic attack. I’d walked into a vamp cabin without my heart skipping a beat and now here I was having a meltdown outside a quiet motel.
“How many rooms is she getting?” I demanded.
“One.”
My eyes expanded.
“Shoestring budget,” Dante said. “Guess we’ll have to take turns using the shower, although in your case, I’d be willing to share… even help wash those hard-to-reach places.” His cheeks lifted as he grinned.
I huffed. “Get it out of your head. It’s never happening.”
Dante placed a hand on his abdomen. “Once we get our room, I’m going to make a run for grub—bring us back takeout.”
At least he’d switched to thinking about his stomach. He still hadn’t grasped that vampires didn’t need to eat. But we could eat, and I supposed that was good enough for Dante.
I frowned. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to recognize you.”
“I’ll wear a baseball cap and use the drive-through. It’ll be nice to eat real food for a change.”
Yeah, because real food came from a drive-through.
“There’s Giselle,” Dante said, putting his hand back on the steering wheel as Giselle opened the truck door.
He started the truck as Giselle closed the door.
“We’re around back, bottom floor,” she said.
Dante drove around the dark parking lot slowly and turned a corner. There was nothing but mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Isolation followed us no matter where we went.
“Number twenty-three,” Giselle said.
Dante parked in front of the room. We grabbed our packs and stepped out of the truck, Tommy following us. The golden retriever trotted across the parking lot, peed on a bush, and came right back.
Giselle unlocked room twenty-three and walked in first. Dante held the door and looked at me. “After you.”
As soon as I stepped inside, I felt around the wall for the lights. When I flipped the switch, a lamp illuminated two double beds. They were fitted with standard matching multicolored comforters and plain brown headboards. Across from them, a long dresser with a TV on top skirted the wall. Beyond the bedroom I spotted a door that led to a bathroom.
Thank the North Star! Elation flooded me so quickly I could have burst into song. Not “Sugar,” but more like Taylor Swift. Instead of shaking it off, I was going to wash it off. And shave it off. Just because we were living in the backwoods didn’t mean I wanted to go around looking like Sasquatch. Which, incidentally, had nothing to do with kissing Dante.
Giselle set her pack on the bed nearest the door. I glanced from the second bed to Dante.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take the floor.”
Relief flooded me. “Thank you.”
“While you two settle in, I’m going into town for takeout. Any special requests? Pizz
a? Burgers? Burritos?”
“That’s not a wise idea,” Giselle said.
“Don’t worry,” Dante replied, pulling a baseball cap over his head. He gave the bill a tug, covering his eyes from us. “Now I’m any old Joe Schmo in a baseball hat. Just leave me some hot water.”
I didn’t wait to argue over who got the shower first. Dante hadn’t even cleared the room before I dug out my shampoo, which I had been using as an all-purpose hair, clothes, and body wash—in addition to shaving cream.
As soon as I locked myself inside the bathroom, I stripped. My clothes dropped to the linoleum floor in crumpled heaps.
I turned on the shower faucet, and the glorious sound of water gushed out. I adjusted the temperature until it was hot but not scalding, then I stepped in.
Oh, merciful Zeus. I moaned.
For the first time in weeks I felt happy.
Hot water streamed down my body. I tilted my head and let it run down my neck, rinsing the bite wound. I stood soaking in it for several minutes before reaching for the shampoo. I probably needed half the bottle to remove all the sweat and grime my body had endured since the last shower. We’d taken down five vampires.
I needed to wash it off. Swift style.
Once my hair and body were thoroughly washed, I lathered shampoo over my right leg and got to work shaving. I did the left leg next and rinsed for several minutes before reluctantly turning off the shower.
White steamy mist surrounded me as I stepped out of the tub.
I grabbed a towel off a metal shelf on the wall beside the shower and patted my body dry before bending over to wrap it around my wet hair. Once I had on my sweatpants and T-shirt, I opened the door into the room and stepped out.
Tommy looked up from his spot on the floor at the foot of my bed. How sweet, he was watching guard while Dante ran his errand.
“Hi, Tommy,” I said. “I bet you like sleeping on a carpet better than a hardwood floor—even if it’s cheap motel carpeting.”
He thumped his tail against said carpet.
Giselle stood up from her place by a small round table beside the curtained window.
“Are you done?” she asked.
Whiteout (Aurora Sky Page 9