by Lyn, Viki
Stu reached the library steps and slipped off his satchel. He looked up at the dark clouds momentarily covering the sun. He sensed that whatever it was about this nerd, it was shrouded in darkness. His inner knowing never failed him. What surprised him was the powerful urge he felt to find out more. He fisted his hands, then sighed and grabbed his satchel, shaking off the warning that this stranger needed his protection.
He jumped down the steps two at a time and sprinted across the courtyard, then passed through the library doors. Tossing his satchel on an empty table, he sat away from the other students, glad to immerse himself in the world of poetry. Yet in the quiet solitude of poetic prose, he heard his dead father's voice telling him fate couldn't be ignored.
Chapter Two
Aric stumbled out into the night air. He paused on the steps, clutching the banister. Once he steadied his legs, he'd go back inside and figure out what went wrong. The injection left him sick to his stomach. His white-blood-cell count dipped; his genetic markers continued to morph. He remained a bloodsucking parasite. If he couldn't stop it soon, the transition would be complete.
He pumped a fist in the air, angry at the world, angry at the creature who cursed him. Massaging his forehead, he winced at the tender spot and then grimaced, not wanting to be reminded of this afternoon and his encounter with Golden Boy and his football.
He slowly unclenched his fingers from the rail. What did he expect? It took years to find a cure for a disease. Breakthroughs came few and far between, sometimes never. He had no choice but to swallow his disappointment, go back inside the lab, and try again.
But he'd do it tomorrow.
Having settled on that decision, Aric retrieved his backpack from the lab and left for home. It had been a balmy eighty-five degrees all day, so he'd walked to the university instead of riding his bike. It being a Friday night, few students loitered on campus, turning it into a desolate, shadowy place.
Palm fronds rustled a low moan in the hot wind. His footsteps sounded too loud, attracting attention to himself. Something he didn't wish to do.
Then he smelled it.
His stomach lurched as he sniffed the alluring odor of blood mixed with burned sugar. The hairs on his nape prickled as footsteps whispered behind him. So light a sound, a normal person wouldn't hear it. Along with his heightened sense of smell, his hearing had also become more acute. He had no trouble making out the rhythmic steps following very close behind him. He picked up his pace, his spine tingling with anxiety. Tempted to break into a run, he kept his tempo steady instead. He was vulnerable in open space with no one around.
He veered a sharp left on Tyler Mall, and once he took an immediate right, cutting between several buildings, he began to run. But the footsteps behind him kept pace. Hot air swirled a cloud of the bittersweet odor near his head. Licking his dry lips, he fought down the impulse to turn around and embrace whatever fate offered. As the edges of his vision blurred, his jaw locked in determination. His blood quickened. He focused straight ahead, every fiber of his being on fire from his fear, his desire for blood, his rage at the enemy who had turned him into this half creature of the night.
His body jerked awake as his brain registered a faint tinny bell. Up ahead, a cyclist fast approached on the same path. Hands gripped him by the waist and yanked him away before he could collide with the speeding mass ahead. He yelped, his backpack sliding off his shoulder, his heart lodged in his throat.
“Don't you ever watch where you're going? It must be a habit with you.”
Aric tensed as he recognized the voice. He didn't have to see the face to know Stu held him in a tight embrace. The sweet fragrance of Stu overwhelmed him, and he slumped into the brick-hard chest.
A rush of heat surged up his neck as he realized how close Stu held him. He smelled so pure and fresh. Twisting a strand of his hair, he tried not to think about the hard bulge pressed into the crease of his ass.
Too late for that; his dick stiffened.
Because of Stu Hamilton.
“Let me go,” he said between gritted teeth, though he really wanted to turn around in Stu's arms, kiss the hell out of that sensuous mouth, and bite into that succulent neck.
“Right, I forgot. You don't like to be touched.” Stu shoved him away.
Aric scowled, tugging the hem of his shirt. “Were you following me back there?”
“No way.”
“Someone was.”
Stu crossed his arms, his stance defiant. “Don't flatter yourself.”
“Why are you on campus, then? Shouldn't you be partying or something?”
“I could ask the same of you.” Stu's expression soured. “You can be a real ass, you know that?”
Aric frowned at the harsh statement. He grabbed his backpack and slipped it on his shoulder. “I was working in the lab.”
“I did see a shadow creeping behind you. It slipped behind the Old Main Building. Could have been my imagination, though. The streetlights cast weird shadows sometimes.”
It wasn't Stu's imagination; Aric's internal alarm was firing off a cacophony of bells. And it wasn't human—the repulsive odor; the faint, almost-inaudible steps; the feeling of someone's eyes leaving a trail of flames up his spine…
The vampire had found him.
Aric swallowed the lump in his throat, glad for the cloak of darkness hiding the fear that must have been flashing bright as neon across his face. Maybe he'd go to the coffee shop not too far away. He'd hang out there long enough for his heart to slow down, his head to clear, and for the fucking sun to rise.
“Well, thanks for the rescue, but I better be going.” He started to walk in the direction he'd come from.
Stu stopped him with a strong grip on his forearm. “Where are you going?”
“I'm hungry,” he said, lying. “Thought I'd get something to eat.”
“I'll come with you.”
Just great. But the truth of it was, he was glad for the companionship. Sure, he wanted to get away from Stu—far away. But on the other hand, the eerie footsteps had frightened him. Having someone with him as tall, strong, and buff as this dude might prevent the vampire from attacking him.
“Is IHOP okay?” Aric asked but didn't wait for the answer.
They walked in silence, and once inside the coffee shop, they sat in a booth by the window facing the parking lot. Aric scanned the restaurant, relieved to see the diners all looked normal—ASU students, bleary-eyed and drinking copious amounts of coffee. He would be able to recognize the vampire by his odd amber eyes and the sliver of a scar near his brow, the unforgettable face forever seared into his brain.
No one like that here. Aric relaxed. But not for long.
A group of coeds shouted across the room for Stu's attention, high-pitched voices squealing in delight. A slender blonde got up from her seat and approached them. She leaned her hip against their table, her short skirt riding up her thighs slightly as she laid her hand on Stu's shoulder. Golden hair skimmed the top of her shoulders. A creamy complexion and a smile that lit up the room set her apart from her friends.
“Hey, Stu, why weren't you at Jason's?” As she asked, she glanced at Aric, then dismissed him with a flick of her eyelashes.
“I've been at the library most of the night.”
“It was no fun without you.” As she trailed her hand up his arm, she turned her head and really looked at Aric, this time her eyes more thoughtful. “Who's your friend?”
“Oh, my bad. Amy, meet…uh… You know”—Stu tilted his head toward Aric—“I don't know your name.”
“Aric Christian.”
“Haven't seen you around before,” Amy remarked.
“I don't attend parties.” Aric knew this sounded arrogant, but he didn't hang out at parties, and he certainly didn't hang out with jocks and their girlfriends. And lately he didn't hang out with anyone. So why was he sitting across from this particular jock on a Friday night?
Amy kept a steady gaze on him. “Then maybe you should get out
more.”
More irritating than the long-legged blonde was Stu, who suppressed a laugh.
Amy slid next to Aric in the booth, their thighs touching. He frowned, staring down at her short, short skirt riding higher up her thighs. She tugged at his braid, catching his attention.
“It's not fair that you have such wonderful, thick hair.”
Trapped, he scooted farther toward the window. Stu leaned forward, weaving his fingers together, resting his elbows on the table. An impish glint lit his eyes. “Aric doesn't like people to touch him. Not even pretty girls like you.”
“Aren't you interested in girls?” Her voice held a lilting tease as her hand inched near Aric's thigh.
She was an attractive girl. Maybe he'd be tempted if he were straight. But he wasn't. Having had enough of their teasing, he gave Amy a beatific smile, the one that broke many a heart, or so he was told. The sudden intake of Amy's breath told him it worked. He'd caught her off guard, and Stu's eyes widened, uncertainty clouding over those baby blues. He'd rendered both of them speechless. Served them right. He wasn't completely without charm.
“Sorry, I'm not into you.” He patted Amy's hand for effect.
Her eyes grew round and soft. “Are you sure?” she asked, her fingers stroking his braid. “I find you very…exotic.”
“I'm gay, and Stu's more my type; but really, I'm not into him any more than I'm into you.”
“Ouch,” she replied with a chuckle, retreating to the far end of the seat.
Stu lifted his hand in a quick wave, a friendly dismissal. “Amy, it was nice to see you again. Say hi to the girls.” Then he turned all his attention to Aric, ignoring her pout. She slid from the booth and trotted back to her table, her sleek hair swinging in tandem with her swaying hips.
“Why did you send her away?” Aric demanded. “Now she'll think you wanted to spend time alone with me.”
“You already told her I'm not your type, so chill.”
How could he when the weight of Stu's gaze was melting his insides? He felt like a specimen being examined under a microscope, but he was determined to stay on even ground with this jock.
“You could have gone with her. I'm perfectly capable of eating by myself.”
“I'm sure you're quite capable.”
“She's cute enough. Why don't you go out with her? She's obviously interested.” He picked up the saltshaker and turned it around in his hand. The sudden stab of jealousy bothered him. He didn't want to like Stu or be attracted to him in any way.
“She's a nuisance, and you're as good an excuse as any.”
Did this mean Stu would rather spend time with him, or was he merely being used as a defensive strategy?
Stu moved forward slightly. Aric leaned back, finding his closeness rather uncomfortable. Stu was giving off weird vibes. Not exactly like he was interested, but what was with his insistence on spending time with Aric instead of with his friends? It made Aric nervous. The last thing he needed was someone finding out about his problem.
Aric slammed down the saltshaker and slumped back in his seat. Stu ignored his crossed arms and sudden fierce expression, keeping his attention locked on to him. “Who do you think was following you?” he asked, his gaze serious.
Aric glared at him, chewing his lower lip. Seconds ticked by. Stu let the silence prevail. Aric picked up his napkin and crushed it into his lap. “I don't know,” he said finally. “But I felt someone behind me…or something.”
“I did see a creepy shadow slip away, and there was a weird odor.”
Aric's stomach somersaulted. So Stu smelled it too. The vampire had found him. He clutched the napkin, squeezing it into a ball. He rose halfway from his seat, his gaze darting across the room. Any moment now the creature might come through the door. He had to get out of here, back to the lab or his home. Out in public, he felt exposed.
“I'm not feeling so well. I better go.”
Stu grabbed Aric's wrist. “You look too pale. When's the last time you ate? Are you hypoglycemic or something?”
“It's nothing. I feel a little queasy; that's all.” Dizziness came over Aric and forced him back into his seat. So much for escaping; he didn't know if his legs would hold him. He leaned his head against the backrest. His stomach did feel out of sorts. Maybe it would be better if he ate something first. He reached inside his backpack, pulled out a hard leather case, and took out a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. He clutched them in his hand, not putting them on.
“I'll order you some toast. That's always good for an upset stomach,” Stu said.
“Fucking Christ, you sound like a mother hen. I'm fine. I just need some sleep.”
At that moment his stomach growled, and Stu laughed—an honest and heartfelt sound. Aric's carefully built-up wall began to crack. He wanted more than anything to hear that laugh again…and be the cause of it. He inwardly groaned at his stupidity.
Don't get involved. Don't let this guy in. Just don't.
He didn't need a friend.
Stu flagged down a waitress. A no-nonsense woman, her steel gray hair pulled back into a bun, she set down two glasses of water on the table. Flipping open her receipt book, she flashed Stu a genuine smile, erasing years from her face. “What can I get you folks?”
The waitress's wide, toothy grin was all for Stu. Amazed at the effect Stu had on women, no matter what their age, Aric checked his scowl. He sat back and slipped on his glasses to read the menu. More and more, he realized he didn't need them. Now he wore them for show, or maybe because he refused to acknowledge the obvious—he was turning into a freaking bloodsucker.
“We'll have coffee, scrambled eggs, and wheat toast, dry.” He turned to Aric. “That'll be easy on your stomach.”
So much for the menu. But he didn't care what he ate. He slipped it behind the napkin holder and put away his glasses. The waitress came back with a thermos of coffee and left it on the table.
Stu poured two cups, then shoved one across the table toward Aric. “So you have no idea who was following you?”
Aric shrugged. “Probably just my imagination.”
“What about that weird smell?”
“It could have been from an herb or some flowering shrub.”
“Yeah, but—”
“It was nothing, so drop it already.”
Stu relented. “Okay, fine.” He took a sip of coffee, then set down his cup. “I couldn't make sense of those formulas scribbled all over your papers. Are you studying science or something?”
“It's really not that interesting if you're not into it.”
“How do you know what I'm into? For such a brainiac, you assume a lot.”
“I'm getting my PhD in molecular biology, studying molecular mechanisms of various blood cells. Now are you happy?”
“That sounds awesome. So you're smart.”
Aric frowned at Stu's smile. No shit, I'm smart, he thought, but he bit down on his lip to keep from saying something harsh. What did this guy know of hitting the books?
Stu kept talking. “But you seem too young to be working on your PhD. Are you some kind of Doogie Howser?”
“I'm twenty-six,” Aric snapped. “What does my age have to do with anything?”
“It's just…I thought you were younger than me, and I'm only twenty-two.”
Irritation flared in Aric, but he couldn't blame Stu for taking him to be younger. Most people did. It didn't help that he had a scrawny body and had been called girlie more times than he cared to remember. He hated his looks, but at least he'd always been smarter than his classmates. That saved him from being a total loser. As he grew into his gangly frame, guys began to take notice. Too bad it all went down the toilet after that fateful night in Prague.
Maybe it didn't matter in the long run. He never had much luck when it came to relationships. Always choosing the wrong guy for the wrong reasons. He'd believed Devon had been the one, the guy he'd been searching for, someone he could share his life with. And like a grand fool, he'd handed his he
art to him on a silver platter—and Devon devoured it.
He had to loosen up, not get so worked up over what Stu said. What did he care, anyway? He'd eat, leave, and never see this guy again. It was time to put the spotlight on Stu.
“Are you going into the NFL?” Aric couldn't give a rat's ass, but he had no idea what to say to a jock. “I've read that scouts are already sniffing around you.”
“Yeah…” Stu lowered his eyes. “It's expected.”