Abra Cadaver

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Abra Cadaver Page 12

by Christine DePetrillo


  Don’t follow her. Do not follow her. He gripped the cushion beneath him to keep from bolting after her. She was a magnet drawing him to her. Luckily, she returned in a few seconds and sat beside him again. Closer.

  “Kiss me.” She leaned forward.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Shhh. Kiss me in the name of science. Nothing else.” The left side of her mouth turned up into a half-smile, and he would have kissed her for any reason she wanted. World peace. Environmental awareness. Cancer research. Because it was Monday. It didn’t matter.

  He slipped his hand to the back of her neck and lowered to her lips. A slippery substance made his mouth glide across hers. Immediately, he tasted…what was that? Sweet and natural.

  “I taste something,” he said breaking the kiss, “but I don’t know what it is.”

  “Maple syrup.” She clapped her hands. “More tests?” Her eyebrow arched wickedly.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Glad I bought the full gloss set.” Holly laughed as she went back to her bedroom.

  Keane was able to taste all the flavors she applied to her lips, but it was more an exercise in self-control than a taste testing. Each time their lips met, he wanted more.

  “Next level,” Holly said. She applied a dab of gloss to her fingertip and held it out to him. “We have to see if it’s just my lips or not.”

  “Makes good experimental sense.”

  “I’m all about the science.”

  Keeping his gaze on her eyes, Keane ran his tongue over her finger making her shudder on the couch beside him. “Blueberries?” he said.

  “Correct.” Holly wiped her finger on the towel she’d brought from the bathroom. “Anything you really would like to taste? Anything you crave?”

  Good gods, yes.

  He cleared his throat and focused on the words necessary to compose an intelligent response to Holly’s question. “That frozen stuff you eat sometimes. Ice cream. You seem to really enjoy it.”

  “I do.” She pulled him off the couch and dragged him to the kitchen. Pointing to one of the kitchen chairs, she said, “Sit.”

  Keane did as he was told. Seeing the light in her eyes, he would have done anything she asked.

  Holly opened the freezer and scanned the two shelves in there. “Cookie dough, maple walnut, or mocha fudge swirl?”

  “You have three kinds of ice cream?”

  “I have six, but I’m only sharing a taste of one of those three. A girl needs to be stingy about her emergency ice cream rations.” She closed the freezer door and hugged the refrigerator. She stepped back and opened the freezer again. “What’ll it be, Keane?”

  “Mocha fudge swirl, though I’m not sure I’ll know what it’s supposed to taste like.”

  “Excellent choice, and if it feels as if you need a cigarette after tasting this ice cream, you’ll know you’ve tasted it for real.”

  Holly grabbed a spoon from a drawer and scooped up a little mocha fudge swirl. Toting the spoon, she walked to Keane at the kitchen table and said, “Where do you want it?” She held her hands out to either side of her as if offering her entire body as a serving platter.

  He had trouble swallowing, but he managed to say, “I can choose anywhere?”

  Holly nodded. “But hurry, or it’s going to melt.”

  Not wanting to let this opportunity slip by due to untimely meltage, he pointed to her stomach.

  “As you wish.” She pulled up her T-shirt and slid the spoon across her stomach. Her amazingly flat and toned stomach.

  Keane didn’t care about the results of this particular test. He only cared about cleaning that ice cream trail off her flawless skin.

  She stepped closer and put the spoon down on the table. Keane rested his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. After a brief look up to her face to make sure she was actually going to allow him to do this, he pressed his lips to her flesh, slid his tongue along that line of mocha fudge swirl, and breathed in the lilac-chocolate aroma of her skin.

  “Oh, my…” Holly quivered in his grasp. “Do you taste it?” A sigh chased the question and she trembled again.

  Keane smiled, his lips still pressed against her stomach. “Not sure. We should try it again.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Keane’s lips were hot against her stomach. At that moment, Holly was prepared to smear a little bit of everything in the kitchen on her skin for him to taste. She didn’t want him to ever stop touching her. No one had ever stimulated her like this. She’d thought teaching the magic of algebraic equations had been a turn on, but being this close to Keane—having him look at her the way he was right now—completely unwound her.

  She was about to kneel in front of him so she could enjoy the pleasure of his lips on hers when the doorbell rang. He drew away from her and stood.

  “Shit.” Holly growled as she righted her T-shirt.

  “Who is that?” Keane edged toward the hallway.

  Glancing at the clock on the microwave, she said, “It’s my friend, Leora, from school. She invited me to a concert tonight, but I lost track of the time.” She gave him a playful shove, but his eyebrows lowered as his mouth formed a hard line.

  “I don’t want you to go out, Holly.”

  The doorbell rang again.

  “I don’t want to go out now either. Not after our…experiments.” She leaned against him, and though he wrapped his arms around her, his grim facial expression did not soften.

  “It’s not safe out there.” Keane motioned toward the front door as he squeezed her a little tighter.

  Holly’s muscles almost lost the ability to support her body. She wanted to melt into him. Let him take her into the bedroom, strip her down, and rock her world. And he would rock it too. Of that she was quite sure. Just the feel of his chest against her shoulders and the way her head fit into the curve of his neck were enough to stoke a fire in her most secret places.

  “I’ll be fine,” she managed to whisper against his skin.

  “You’ll be better if you stay here with me.”

  Was that a promise? An invitation? Holly wondered what internal conversation Keane was having inside his head. His body and his words made it seem as if he’d like to touch her, but would he? Would he truly make love to her?

  The doorbell rang a third time followed by Leora’s voice. “Holly, you in there?”

  “I have to get that.” She untangled herself from his grasp. “I promised Leora I’d go with her. I don’t want to leave her hanging.”

  Keane opened his mouth twice, but nothing came out each time. Finally, he dropped his hands to his sides. “Okay, but stick together. Don’t go anywhere alone.”

  “I think we’ll be all right. I mean, it’s a public event. Not a lot of opportunities to abduct with so many people around.” She walked toward the front door.

  “Be careful.” Those were Keane’s last words as he disappeared down the hallway.

  Holly waited a moment until his bedroom door closed. She wished she didn’t have to hide him away. It would have been so lovely to introduce him to Leora, to invite him to join them maybe. Holly considered that for a moment. It was nighttime. Keane had proven with her parents that he was able to pass for a regular human. Would it be so crazy if he accompanied them?

  Leora strode in as soon as Holly opened the door. No pause to greet her. No cordial salutations. Instead, she marched right in and threw her hands out to her sides. The denim tank dress she wore fit her like a glove, and the short, black leather blazer cut right into her narrow waist. A silver spiral dangled from a silver chain around her neck and matching earrings peeked from that thick, black curtain of hair.

  “Men are so stupid.” She plopped onto Holly’s couch and sifted out a long, loud breath. “You’ve got the right idea over here living by yourself. Queen of your own domain. High priestess over all that is yours.”

  Inviting Keane is so not going to happen.

  “What’s up?” Holly sat and packed up her lip gloss
set hoping Leora wouldn’t ask why the caps were off every single tube.

  “Okay, so I’ve been seeing this dickhead, right? Cute and all, but dumb as a bunch of peanut shells. But cute. Did I mention that?”

  Holly nodded. “You did.”

  “All right, so he asked if he could move in with me because his roommate was getting married and moving out. He couldn’t afford his apartment by himself, which should have been a big, stinking siren for me.” Leora’s voice rose as she waved her hands in the air. “But no. I say, ‘Sure, move in. I’ve got plenty of room.’ What the hell was I thinking?”

  “You were trying to be nice, maybe?” Holly offered.

  “Too nice. As usual.” Leora stood and paced away from the couch. “Now tonight, I tell the moron I’m going out to a concert, that I know one of the band members, and the bastard flips. Wants me to stay home and make him something to eat. I don’t even cook for myself, and he thinks I’m going to serve him dinner? Don’t think so.”

  Leora flopped back down onto the couch and pressed her cheek into the cushions. She let out a noisy sigh and patted Holly’s knee. “You’ve got it good over here, sister. Listen to how quiet it is. No irritating man noises.”

  “Irritating man noises?” Holly tried to think of one noise Keane made that got on her nerves, but she couldn’t come up with a single one. Is that because he’s not really a man anymore?

  “Yeah, you know, chewing, snoring, belching, farting, scratching…breathing.”

  Holly let out a laugh, and Leora joined in.

  “Can’t you ask him to leave?” Holly said.

  “I’m going to. Didn’t have time for that conversation tonight. Although men suck, tonight we got us some fine, male musicians to drool over. I’m not about to let a messy break-up ruin my man-watching.” Leora paused and tugged at Holly’s shorts. “Why aren’t you ready?”

  Holly looked down at her attire. “I was…working out.” Not a total lie. She worked out during Keane’s defense lessons. So her lips and libido got some exercise too. Big deal.

  “Well, go change. You got anything to drink?” Leora got up from the couch.

  Pointing to the kitchen, Holly said, “Help yourself to anything you want. I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  Leora gave her a little salute and headed for the kitchen. Holly ducked into her bedroom, threw on a black dress with cap sleeves and a scalloped hem, and looped a silver beaded necklace around her neck. She tied the necklace into a sloppy knot below her breasts. After a quick stop in the bathroom, Holly emerged in the hallway with her hair swept up into a clip, a few curls framing her face.

  She glanced toward the living room then down the hallway to Keane’s closed door. Chewing on her lower lip—glossed with a flavor called blueberry breeze—Holly walked to Keane’s bedroom. She knocked softly, and he opened the door slowly. She pressed a single finger to his lips telling him not to speak. She slipped into his room and closed the door behind her. Leaning against it, she looked up at him.

  “I wanted to say good night,” she whispered. Reaching up on her toes, she dropped a chaste kiss onto his cheek. She amazed herself at the level of decorum she managed, because she really wanted to back him up onto his bed and crawl all over him. Well, get him naked first, then crawl.

  Keane caught her lips with his and swept her into a very unchaste kiss—one that had her heart thundering in her ears. When he pulled back, the smile on his face was so male, so human.

  How can he be centuries old? He looked like every other thirty-something male on the planet. Only better. Much better.

  “Promise you won’t talk to any psychos.” Keane fiddled with the beads around her neck.

  “No psychos. Got it.” Did Leora have any idea how big a favor she was asking in making Holly go to this concert?

  “And remember what I showed you earlier tonight. The moves, okay?” He took a step back as if he needed the space to concentrate.

  Holly stayed against the door although every fiber of her being wanted to get close to him again. She tapped her temple. “It’s all on file. Not to worry.”

  “I’m going to worry until you come home.”

  For some reason, that simple statement uttered by this unusual man filled Holly with warmth. Not just an I-want-to-jump-your-bones warmth either. More of a you-care-about-me warmth. A nice warmth. No man had ever made her feel like this.

  “Will you wait up for me?” She had a few seconds to spare on flirting before Leora started yelling for her to hurry the hell up.

  “I’m awake every night, but tonight I will be extra awake until you return.” Keane closed the distance between them, grabbed a handful of beads, and kissed Holly again. “Blueberry, right? That one might be my favorite.”

  She winked and mouthed the words “See you.” He released the beads and let her open the door. When Holly fumbled back into the hallway, Leora was leaning against Holly’s bedroom threshold.

  “I thought this was your room.” Leora angled her head to Holly’s bedroom.

  “It is. I keep some of my clothes in the spare bedroom.” Holly swallowed, her dry throat almost painful. “You know, stuff I don’t wear a lot.” She gestured to the black dress with her hands.

  “See? Exactly what I mean. Queen of your own kingdom. Can spread out your clothes to all the closets you wish. Nice shit.” Leora ground her teeth as Holly breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank God Leora hadn’t wanted to see the spare bedroom. Not a ton of places for a six-foot, three-inch fantasy guy to hide in there.

  Holly led Leora to the front door, stopping at the couch to grab her purse. “Do you want me to drive? You seem like you could use a little rest before we get to the concert.”

  “Okay,” Leora said. “Thanks, Holly.”

  “No problem.” Holly gave one more wistful glance to the hallway and what she was leaving behind tonight. Her only hope was that the concert would pass quickly, and Keane’s passionate mood would not.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As soon as the front door closed, Keane shrugged into his leather jacket and grabbed his keys. He peeked out the windows until Holly’s car disappeared down the dirt road. Outside, he hopped onto his motorcycle, left the headlight off, and tailed Holly. His keen night vision allowed him to follow her with ease though he had to keep a safe distance or risk being spotted. She hadn’t exactly told him not to follow her, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t like what he was doing.

  No way I’m letting her out of my sight.

  She was gorgeous. Any man with a pulse would want to be with her. Any lunatic with a pulse would want to…no, he wasn’t going to let his mind finish that thought. He’d go to the concert. Keep an eye on both women from afar, and if he noticed anything amiss, he was prepared to charge in.

  After twenty minutes of driving, Holly’s car turned into the lot in front of a questionable-looking tavern. The Borderline Rock House. Keane wondered if that meant borderline sanitary. The outside had peeling purple paint on scarred wooden clapboards. Black doors and window frames cut into the purple as an electrical buzz sounded from the partially lit sign above the main doors. Trash blew around in the parking lot, and he was pretty sure if he could smell everything, he would wish he couldn’t in front of this place.

  He parked his bike behind a bus that perhaps belonged to the band Holly and Leora had come to see. The word firecracker had been painted along the side of the bus in red, white, and blue and the i was dotted with what looked like a spray of sparks. At first glance, the bus could have passed for being in excellent shape. Perhaps the band owning it had made a name for itself. As Keane walked around the back of the bus, however, rust spots, worn tires, and three cracked windows greeted him.

  Holly does not belong here. He wanted to drag her away from this place before she entered. But he wouldn’t do that. She was an adult and could make her own decisions—even if they weren’t ones he agreed with. He would still respect her and be content to keep watch at a distance.

  He entered th
e tavern after he’d counted twelve people entering before him. Didn’t want to risk Holly seeing him. She’d feel betrayed or as if he didn’t trust her to be careful, which he did. It was the nutcases he didn’t trust.

  Holly and Leora scooched by some people and took their seats in the dead center of the tavern. Tables hugged the area around a small stage, and Keane felt boxed in. Not wanting to get too close, he took up residence on a stool at the bar. He ordered a beer to keep up appearances, promised himself he wouldn’t drink it, and focused back on Holly and Leora’s table. Leora had shed her black jacket revealing smooth, shapely arms, and several men swarmed around her. She laughed while Holly sipped the wine she’d ordered. Keane enjoyed that Holly didn’t seem interested in anything besides her drink.

  Is she thinking about me? He hoped at least a small fraction of her mind was remembering the touching and kissing they’d done earlier. He knew a large fraction of his still tasted her, smelled her, wanted her. In all his years, he’d never been able to taste or smell anything. Why now? Why Holly?

  Keane could think of only one reason why. Love. The feelings he had for Holly ran deeper than any feelings he’d ever had. He’d been very interested in Melinda, but hadn’t had the chance to decide if he loved her. The last person he had loved with his whole heart had been Eliah. And that was a different kind of love. A brotherly love. What he felt for Holly was wild and free, illogical and impossible, perfect and wonderful. But how could it work?

  Watching her now, he knew it wouldn’t be long before she achieved her important act that changed the world somehow. He’d be forced to move on, but his heart wouldn’t leave her. He was sure of that. It had found its home and would be useless to him elsewhere.

  He picked up the beer bottle, shifted it from hand to hand, put the bottle back on the bar behind him, and swiveled to face the crowd again. The band had taken up residence at the microphones and instruments, and the crowd had settled some. Well, as much as a crowd of grunge-rockers could settle. Keane recalled the last concert he had heard. It had been while with a save a few years ago. The man was an engineer who, after Keane had saved him from dying in a warehouse explosion, went on to invent the first residential windmill. Now windy areas all over the globe had them, and they were generating tons of naturally powered energy.

 

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