Blood Dreams 03 Endless Night

by Mlyn Hurn

Pete grimaced at hearing his wife almost sing to the mean-assed bird that rarely acted up around the women, but gave any man in the vicinity a run for his money. “Crazy Old Fart!” he muttered resentfully.

  Damon shook his head. He had thought Taryn seemed a little quirky, but on her it was cute and sexy. It heightened the allure and the enticement whenever he was near her. Seeing her friends, and now her apartment, he felt his initial sense of Taryn’s uniqueness was true. Whether her unusual quality was merely enchanting or possibly quirky without stepping over the line into the bizarre was still unknown.

  “She’s not here.”

  Chey’s voice caused Damon to turn his head in her direction. For the first time, he noted the strangely oversized bird perched on her forearm. He remembered Pete had muttered something about a crazy old—

  “Damn you, you old fart!” Pete yelled as he stepped in something he wasn’t pleased about.

  Damon watched as Pete lifted his slipper-clad foot, and by the scowl on the other man’s face, he guessed it was bird shit. Granted, he’d be pretty pissed off himself. Suddenly, he thought that perhaps he had also stepped in some and he quickly looked at the bottoms of his shoes. When he glanced back up, he saw Chey was smiling at him.

  “Are you clean?” she asked him softly.

  “Yeah, thanks.” He grinned back at the beautiful woman.

  “Good. Don’t move, Peter darling, and I’ll get some paper towels from the kitchen,” Chey told her husband.

  Damon watched the pregnant woman as she turned to go back into Taryn’s kitchen. For a pregnant woman, she was damned hot! He’d never been attracted to expectant mothers or dated one. Smiling, he looked back towards Pete. His gaze met the other man’s glaring face. Before Pete could warn him away, which Damon was sure had been his plan, the parrot came flying out of the kitchen, swooping low and then flying high through out the open and airy loft.

  “One of these days, Old Fart, you and I will cross paths where there isn’t a woman with a soft heart around to protect your feathered ass!” Pete shook his fist at the bird for good measure.

  Damon fought the urge to smile. “What’s the bird’s name?”

  Chey had reentered the room and crossed to her husband’s side. “Oef,” she said just as her husband spoke.

  “Old Fart!” Pete spit the name out between clenched jaws.

  “Relax, darling,” Chey spoke softly to her husband. “He’s not worth getting upset over. Besides, whenever you do, you know it only makes him more excited.”

  “Crazy cop! Crazy cop!” the bird screeched a few seconds later from one of the highest rafters in the loft.

  Damon couldn’t hold back his smile for another minute. “It can talk!”

  Chey nodded her head as she took her husband’s slipper and began wiping off the sole. “Yes, and he has an amazing repertoire of words.”

  Pete took the other paper towel and bent down to wipe off the floor. “Damned bird is possessed. It’s proof that Fauster is dead. Whatever spirit was left in that old fool lives on in this old fart!”

  “You know that isn’t true, darling. The bird was alive long before Fauster’s disappearance. Also, you promised to stop calling him that name. We all agreed to start now, before the baby comes.”

  Almost like a child, Pete quickly defended his position. “Blue still calls him that.”

  “Only when she is really tired or upset. Come here, Oef. Don’t be frightened and I’ll feed you a treat. Want a treat?” Chey called out to the bird, offering her forearm as a perch.

  Damon watched as the brightly plumed parrot swooped down from the rafters to land once again on Chey’s uplifted forearm.

  “There’s a good boy,” Chey murmured, lowering her head until the bird could rub his crest against her cheek.

  Pete’s words interrupted Damon’s fascination with watching Chey’s interactions with the bird. “You should see that damned bird with Taryn. You’d think he was human the way these women treat the old fart.”

  A moment later, as if she’d heard his muttered words, Chey’s glance shot over towards Pete.

  Damon was surprised at how acute the woman’s hearing was because he’d had to strain to catch all of the other man’s words.

  Almost immediately Pete smiled at his wife. “Sorry, dearest. Oef is a dear bird.”

  Damon coughed to conceal the laugh that escaped when he heard the sarcasm in Pete’s voice. No doubt the bird was a bone of contention here between the women and Pete. Obviously, if he wanted to win Taryn’s heart, he’d have to get on the parrot’s good side. Suddenly, he realized what he’d just said in his head—win her heart? Where the hell had that come from? This was just sex!

  Perhaps in the past he would consider winning the fair lady’s heart important to assure his success at gaining access to her body. Despite the sexual revolution and the swinging singles, he enjoyed the pursuit of a woman who wasn’t ready to lay all of her cards on the table first night out. Still, technically he’d gotten a lot further the second night with the petite vampire hunter than he would have ever thought possible. But taking tonight’s behavior, he wasn’t even back on first base. Now, he was undoubtedly in the dugout and most likely being taken off the lineup!

  Shaking his head, he cleared his thinking of the past and focused on the present. He needed to get busy tracking Taryn according to the list. Coughing slightly, he spoke, letting his gaze move from Pete to Chey. “I better get going since she isn’t here. If you do see her before I do, please ask her to call me.” He pulled out a card and passed it to Pete. “This is my cell phone number, and I’ll have it with me.”

  “We will, but we don’t always hear her come in. She lives an independent life even though we share the same building,” Pete replied, tucking the card into his pocket.

  Chey shook the bird gently from her arm as she crossed to stand beside her husband. She curved her hand around her husband’s forearm, snaking it down into the pocket of his robe. A second later, she pulled the card back out and tapped it lightly against her nose. “Don’t you believe this old cop. He knows exactly when both Taryn and Blue come and go. When their parents moved away, he became their pseudo-papa. There have been times I’ve feared he will live long enough to see the birth of his own child.”

  Damon frowned upon hearing the beautiful woman’s words. “You are in danger?” he asked Pete seriously.

  Chey laughed, shaking her head in a very exaggerated motion. As she kissed her husband’s frowning cheek, she replied. “He is in danger that Blue or Taryn will get sick and tired of his constant watching and worrying about them. One or both might decide to put him out of his misery, and out of their personal business. It is none of your busy bee business whether they come home on time, or alone, my dearest husband.”

  Damon nodded his head. “Oh, I see.”

  What he didn’t like was that it mattered to him hearing Chey talk about Taryn and her not coming home by herself. He wanted her to be alone… unless she was with him! Well, that sounded damned repressive, he realized a second later, not to mention chauvinistic. Hell’s bells. What the devil was going on with him? He loved modern women. More than that, he liked modern women. Whenever possible, he employed women in his business ventures.

  If he were smart, he’d start thinking of Taryn Blue in business terms only. Straightforward, uncomplicated and undemanding defined his life up to this point, which is exactly how he wanted it.

  Taryn was the opposite of all that. Looking around her apartment, he could see she lived what was most likely a “bohemian” lifestyle. While there was nothing wrong with that, the likelihood of meshing two such opposite lifestyles would be impossible. He knew she wouldn’t fit into his peaceful, flowing and stress-free existence.

  “Well, I need to get going. Thanks again for your help,” Damon announced, turning to leave.

  “Sure,” Pete replied. “The door locks automatically, just make sure you pull it shut behind you.”

  “Will do,” Damon answered an
d then he walked down the hall and took the elevator back down to the first floor.

  Two hours later, Damon sat in his car, once again parked across the street from the entrance to Taryn’s building. He had spent over ninety minutes visiting the top four places on the list. At each place, he learned Taryn had been there, asking questions and in general, not making friends. With each establishment, he grew more frustrated hearing Taryn had only just left. To be generous, the businesses deteriorated as the list descended. His plan had been to be with her as she visited them.

  At the fourth place, learning she’d not been there, and realizing if she’d been coming, she would have been there by now, he decided to call it quits. He argued silently about waiting or just going home. Pausing to see if she would come home in just a few minutes instead, turned into quarter of an hour, followed by thirty minutes, and then sixty.

  Just as he was nearly ready to doze off, a flash in his side view mirror caught his eye. Blinking for a few seconds to clear his eyes, he then rubbed his eyes before glancing over towards the main entrance to the building. Damn! There she was, walking towards the door. He jumped out of his car and the slam of his door obviously alerted Taryn to his presence.

  Whatever Damon had expected to happen could not equal what did.

  Taryn spun to face him, but she was no longer standing. Her whole body had reacted and she was now poised in an attack-style posture, crouched low to the ground, animal-like and ready to defend.

  He stopped abruptly, holding his hands palms up, towards her. “Hey, Taryn, it’s me, Damon. Relax, sweetheart.” He spoke quickly and clearly. Any doubts he might have had about her ability to defend against surprise attack were now allayed.

  Chapter Seven

  Taryn met Damon’s gaze. She could feel her heart racing and had to make the conscious effort to tell her body to calm down. Her nerves were strung out after spending the last two hours checking out the places on the list. What she needed was peace and quiet to rest, and then review in her head everything she’d seen and heard. Damon was the last person she’d expected, or wanted, to see here.

  “Oh God! How long have you been here?” she asked him hurriedly, knowing her frantic feelings were audible in her tone of voice. “You didn’t ring the buzzer, did you? Please say no.”

  Slowly she rose to a fully standing position. She didn’t have to hear him confirm her fear. “Oh crap! You did, didn’t you? Great, just absolutely great!”

  She pulled her key from her jeans pocket and opened the door. Looking over her shoulder, she added half-heartedly, “I imagine you’ve already been inside, right? Super! That takes cares of the invitational boundary. Damn. You might as well come in again. I wouldn’t put it past you to lean on the buzzer until you woke up Pete and Chey again.”

  Taryn walked in, without waiting to see if he followed. The last few hours would have been tough normally, but add to that constant thoughts, not to mention the hot mental images of this man… damn it! Behind her, she heard the door being closed firmly enough for the latch to sink into its locked position. She had planned on going upstairs, but it would not be wise to have him there. That would be too intimate a setting. And it would make it even harder to forget him, which is precisely what she must do.

  Crossing the room, she walked into a partially enclosed area, and began lighting a few candles. She, Pete and Chey used this room for yoga classes, but when the dividers were up, as they were now, it became a much smaller, more intimate place. There was a rock garden, as well as the soft, relaxing sound of the water trickling from a small waterfall in the corner. She paused at the garden, picking up the wood rake to lightly stroke it through the sand, making a long undulating path nearly all the way from one corner to the other. Pete would be surprised in the morning when he saw how long her single movement truly was.

  Damon spoke a moment later. “That’s impressive how flowing and unbroken you did with that rake.”

  Taryn turned from where she had just returned the rake to its position against the wall. “Yes, I know. Pete will have a cow in the morning when he sees that.” She couldn’t keep the humor from her voice. A second later she felt her lips curving up at the corners. “He and I have a running competition on who can do the longest and smoothest single rake-through.”

  Damon chuckled softly. “What is the prize?”

  Taryn grinned. She couldn’t stop it. “The truly perturbed and sometimes disgruntled look on his face when he comes in here. The absolute best is when he kicks the box. If you look close, you can see a couple of indentations on the side.”

  “I see one on the front.” Damon squatted to run his fingers over the slight gouge in the black wood, which composed the base holding the large sand and rock garden.

  Taryn laughed out loud. “That was the first time. Poor Pete had been in here for an hour arranging the rocks after it had been perfectly raked following its installation. I snuck in and picked up the rake, making this perfect, long flowing move in and around the rocks. When he came back in a little bit later, we heard him curse a little and then I think he tried to do it himself. The next thing Chey and I heard was this cracking noise. Idiot kicked the box without his shoes on.”

  Damon stood. “Ouch.”

  “Oh yeah.” Taryn nodded. She sat on one corner of the wood box, removing her boots as she spoke. “After he and Chey returned from the emergency room visit, Chey warned him not to kick the box, but if he absolutely couldn’t resist, then at least go for the sides, and only if he has his shoes on. The corker is that several times, when I know Pete is in here focusing on beating my latest effort, Chey will go in, and I’ll hear her talking to him… all low and sexy.” Standing, she stretched from side to side. “The odd thing is that I always get the best fluidity when I am most upset.”

  Quickly she turned away, realizing too late just how much she had revealed. The last thing she wanted him to know was how attracted she was to him, or how difficult she was finding it to resist the pull. “Look, I need to work out. If there wasn’t anything else—”

  “Why are you running away?” Damon asked softly after a few seconds of silence.

  Something in his words, or maybe it was the tone in his voice, made her stomach clench tightly. The fist squeezing her heart didn’t let up either. She imagined that he believed he was entitled to an explanation. Her honesty demanded she give him one, vampire or not. She opened her mouth to say something, just what that might be she had not yet decided.

  Damon spoke. “You were naked in my bed, Taryn. I didn’t imagine that. I know that you wanted me. Why are you turning away now? Did I do something to offend you?” As he spoke, he held his hands towards her, palms up.

  Taryn felt awful. From the sound of his voice, it seemed like he did care. Still, none of that could change the fact that he was still a sanguineous vampire. Slowly she turned to face him. The candlelight accented his attractive angular face. His eyes looked like bottomless dark wells, full of mystery and invitation. Just looking at him, especially his lips aroused her. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers, kissing her fiercely as if he could draw her breath from within her body.

  Only when he reached towards her was the hypnotic spell broke. She jerked backwards, babbling almost incoherently in embarrassment. “I’m sorry… uhm, please, Damon, you need to go. Thanks for your help, but I can handle it on my own from here.” She removed her jacket, setting it down by her feet. “I am sorry if I led you on or anything, but you and I can’t—”

  Damon was so surprised to be getting the brush-off that, at first, he wasn’t completely sure that’s what it was. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, knotting them into fists as he worked to control his temper. It pissed him off the way she kept turning her back on him. Each time, he felt thoroughly dismissed.

  For a moment he compared her, dressed in jeans shorts and leather boots, to himself—glad he’d changed also, as well as switching from the black trench coat he normally used to his well-worn leather jacket. He didn’t nee
d to hear a woman tell him he looked attractive. But tonight, he wanted to know why she had changed her mind. He also strongly suspected her body had not changed, and she desired him just as much as he did her.

  “Please explain to me how you go from being naked in my bed to giving me the brush-off.” Damon watched as Taryn’s spine stiffened at his accusation. He imagined that this tempting little sprite was used to getting her way. If she decided that she was done with something, then by all means it had better get out of her sight! She was in for a nasty surprise if that is how she expected to deal with him.

  When she didn’t reply, he prodded further. “I’ve been led on by women before, but I’ve never had a woman end up in my bed, naked, and then have her say ‘uh-oh, I made a mistake’. By the time two people are naked, things are usually pretty well understood between them. I would go so far as to say that if we’d just been on my bed, well that is more open to interpretation. Perhaps if we’d been in the living room and just—”

  Taryn suddenly spun to face him. The glare on her face spoke volumes to the level of her irritation. Good! he thought as he felt the waves of emotion flowing from her. She might be angry with him, but there was definitely arousal and passion, as well. Her icy veneer was dissolving, he was glad to see.

  “Stop, please! Why are you pushing at me about this? Can’t you just accept the fact that I don’t want to see you again? I went too far the other night and it was a mistake. I don’t want to compound that mistake,” Taryn told him fiercely.

  Damon saw the tears she held at bay and realized he was no closer to the truth. If he continued to push her, would he ruin any chance he might have had if he just cut her some slack and pulled back for a short time? Wouldn’t that be better?

  “Do you need more time? I know things skyrocketed between us. Taryn, to be completely honest, I was taken by surprise as well.” He paused, hoping he’d shown her that he was willing to take things more slowly, if that is what she needed. Damn! He probably sounded like a wimp, but he wasn’t willing to give up on what he knew they could have together. There was not one doubt in his mind that the two of them could be very good together, both in bed and out of it. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before—about a woman that he had not yet sired. Such depth of emotion and sensation had always been limited to his kind.