Bad Impression : A Sadie Salt Novel (Sadie Salt Series Book 2)

by Ware Wilkins

  “Coffee and something sweet for Abe and me, and I’ll give you a free teeth cleaning next week.”

  She winks. “I would’ve given you the food for free, you know.”

  “But this keeps me off the hook.”

  She ushers us in, locks the door behind, and goes back to snag us some snacks. Abe’s running a hand through his hair and looking around as if her bakery is suddenly covered in fairy glitter and he’d never noticed before. “Obviously I know about the pack, and that Benji is a gay vampire, but this… how many are there?”

  “How many… species? Or are you asking for a population census? And Benji’s not gay, just bisexual.”

  “Species,” he mutters, face pale. Then his eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. “What do you mean, bisexual?”

  Ah, balls. The fact that Benji’s bi isn’t the issue. It’s that I’m blushing now. And thinking of the kiss that Benji planted on me. Damn him. I know he’d never hypnotize me, but sometimes I wonder if there was some kind of magic in that kiss, because whenever I think of it, my body heats and my lips tingle with the memory. So I know that, while my saying Benji’s bisexual isn’t a big deal, the way my body is reacting to the admission is.

  “Oh, well, you know. He does dudes and, um, dudettes.”

  His cold lips crushed against mine still make me feverish with a new desire I didn’t know I could have.

  Before Abe can push, the door chimes and a woman walks in. It takes me a moment to realize it’s the same woman from Dr. Winston’s office, the one with the red lipstick. She’s looking just as stunning tonight, and Abe gets major points in my book for not gawking. Tiffany is back with a tray and two bags. The tray has large coffees wedged in. Freshly brewed, the delightful smell of just-made coffee hitting me. “I’ve got two cupcakes for you and your fellow, and the other bag is some ginger cookies for Ingrid.” She looks up and sees the woman. “Oh, I’m sorry, we’re closed.”

  The woman smiles and laughs lightly, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I saw the lights on, and people inside--”

  “We preordered,” I say.

  “Well, I’ll go--” her gaze locks onto Abe’s scarred face and I could kill her for staring. I shouldn’t have brought him here. Grabbing his hand, I squeeze, hoping to keep him steady. He’s looking at his shoes, though, with no signs of wolf-out. She looks back at me, interest sparkling in her eyes. “Aren’t you the girl from the dentist’s office? The assistant?”

  “That’s me.” I scramble to remember her name and not just how impressed I was her lipstick lasted through a root canal. “Ms. Black?”

  She beams. “That’s me. My husband just got a job in Asheville, and we moved to Grimloch. We’re from up north and didn’t know he’d be commuting an hour and a half.” The smile she gives is self-deprecating and alluring. There’s something so… magnetic about her. “I was hoping to sneak a treat before he comes home and surprise him with it. I’m a terrible baker,” she adds apologetically.

  “Well, let me see if I can scrounge something up for you,” Tiffany offers, though she sounds short-tempered and lacking in her usual warmth. She disappears in the back again.

  Ms. Black, feeling emboldened, steps toward us and holds out her hand to Abe. “Melissa Black. Nice to meet you.”

  I suck in a breath, afraid for Abe. I wasn’t supposed to bring him around humans, and here was a pretty woman standing in his space and if he freaks out Alec will kill me. Abe smiles and it stretches at the scarring on his face, making him look fierce and beautiful. He takes her hand and shakes it. “Abraham Murray.”

  “Have the two of you been dating long?”

  “No,” I answer. Tonight’s our first date. But we’ve known each other a long time.”

  Her laugh is a tinkling bell, melodious and perfect. I’m feeling less and less happy with Ms. Black hanging next to Abe when I’m trying to impress him. “That must explain how you seem so comfortable together. Well, I better get out and leave the two of you to it.”

  With impeccable timing, Tiffany comes back in with a bag. There’s a hint of vanilla. Ha. Take that, Red Lips. Tiffany saves chocolate for her favorite customers. “Here you are.”

  “Oh, how lovely! Thank you! How much do I owe you?”

  “Those are leftover from today. I was going to have to toss them, so on the house.”

  “No, I don’t mind, I have cash--”

  “I insist.” Tiffany’s arms are folded and I have never, and I mean never, seen her this grumpy with someone.

  Ms. Black shrugs. “Well, I appreciate it. I’ll leave a good Yelp review!”

  “Shut the door on your way out, please,” Tiffany says, and there is no arguing with her now. She looks two steps away from calling the cops. The woman leaves with a final wave and the door chimes after her.

  “Sorry about that, you two. I could have sworn I locked the door, but I must have been so delighted by your re-emergence into the real world, Abe, that I forgot!”

  “Am I crazy, or were you really weird to her?” I mean, I get the inconvenience of someone coming in after hours, but I’m doing it to Tiffany and she’s being nice as pie to me.

  Tiffany looks a little chagrined. “Something just felt off about her. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  Abe nods. “I didn’t smell anything on her that stood out, but you’re right. She just felt wrong.”

  Tiffany shrugs. “Maybe I’m just getting paranoid. There’s so much talk of hunters being in town, and more than usual. Everyone’s acting more cautious. Y’all be safe out there, okay?”

  I soften a bit and give her a hug--after handing the hot coffee to Abe, of course. “Thanks. Let me know a time next week that’s good for the cleaning.”

  She pats my cheek and we walk out. I hurry to the car, eager to walk away from the awkward conversation that had been building in the bakery. As I buckle in and pull out of the parking lot of the restaurant, Abe still hasn’t said anything. Maybe I’m lucky.

  “Where to now?” I ask.

  “Wanna head to the parkway?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  There’s an entrance to the Blue Ridge Parkway just outside of town. It’s barely illuminated, but I know the way. We pull on the parkway and start a twisting, climbing ascent. The hush of night means all we hear is the protest of my car and the wind whipping at its frame. My hands clench the wheel, guiding us over hard turns, but in truth I’m more nervous about being alone with Abe than I am about us skidding off the side of a mountain.

  Something about his scent in the confines of the car makes my skin feel unbearably itchy with need. A hunger, which had started as low and obnoxious, is quickly building into insatiable. Abe begins to shift uncomfortably, trying to find a place to put his knees and finding nowhere clear. He senses it, too.

  “Pull off up here,” he growls. Maybe I should be scared, but I jerk the wheel at his command and pull into a small shoulder, tucking my car into bushes that scrape at the paint. I don’t give a crap. As soon as the car is parked, Abe reaches over and turns the key to shut the engine off. It’s winter, the chill should already be creeping in, but I swear to god it is burning up inside.

  His hands grab greedily at my face, pulling me into a kiss that stuns me with its intensity. That doesn’t mean I don’t immediately submit to it. Because I do. Oh, I do.

  The inside of the car is too small for our fevered grasping. Finally, Abe wrenches away from me. There’s a hint of yellow in his eyes and it sends a shiver down my spine. The wolf is close. But the smell of him, rich and intoxicating, overrides the warnings flashing in my mind. “Outside,” he demands, and my hands are opening my door without hesitation, my mind trying to catch up with my body.

  Abe grabs my hips and pulls me to him. The evidence of his need is pressed firmly on my hip and I gulp. Then he lifts me onto the hood like a doll before covering me with his body. The heat of the engine is still warming the hood, stinging my spine, while Abe’s scalding body crushes into mine. Cold nips of winter mountain air pluc
k at exposed skin and the contrast of heat and ice has me panting and rolling my hips.

  This isn’t what I pictured for Abe and me. That’s a lie. I’ve one hundred percent pictured this many times. But not for the first time. Our first time was going to be sweet. On a bed. Not on the hood of my old ass car tucked off the Blue Ridge Parkway.

  Abe’s mouth devours mine and his hand slips up under my shirt, clawing at me. I arch into his hold…

  A low growl comes from his throat. I mean low. It isn’t a sexy-time growl. This is a warning and all my instincts flare, overwhelming my desperate need to keep going with Abe until he’s inside of me. My instincts tell me to freeze, muscles so tight I feel like I could be snapped in two. Abe’s hand digs into my breast and pain slashes through me. Swallowing a whimper, I realize his fingers are clawed now, those dangerous tips slicing into my skin.

  His eyes are full yellow and there’s fur on his cheeks. Abe’s scanning the treeline next to the car, his lip pulled up in a warning snarl.

  “Easy, puppy,” Benji’s voice croons as he steps from the trees. He moves with a grace that rivals most animals, barely making a sound despite a winter carpet of pine needles and dead leaves beneath his feet. “You’re hurting her.”

  Abe snaps at him and I shrink into myself, aware that I’m pinned under Abe. Helpless. My body sings its accusation to me. If you had the magic, none of this would be a concern. If I had some teeth. If I’d bend to the bone magic’s will, accepting the magic written into my very essence. Instead, like sex, I’ve been denying myself, and both of those things have led me to make desperate, stupid choices.

  Am I glad that Benji is here? I don’t know. My heart is beating painfully, throbbing in fear. But chicken and egg, you know? Is Benji’s appearance what’s brought the wolf out in Abe? Or is he here because the wolf was coming out and he doesn’t want me to get hurt?

  In this moment, does it really matter?

  “Your sire is here,” Benji says, nodding to his side. A sleek, gray wolf pads beside of him, and I recognize Henry. Interesting that it’s Henry and not Alec. As Alpha, Alec could issue the order in his weighted voice that would get Abe off of me.

  It’s silent. Abe is staring hard at Henry, the wolf meeting his gaze with the same intensity. They’re talking to each other. I take a moment to look at Benji. It’s too dark to guess at what he’s feeling, but I know that, despite the adrenaline and terror, there’s some guilt burning inside of me, too.

  It takes forever, but Abe finally lifts off of me. His hand slides from under my top. When his weight is off me entirely, I sit and tug Ingrid’s leather jacket tight around me. We were both still dressed, but it felt a little too much like being caught naked in your parents’ basement with a boy.

  “I’m… sorry,” Abe says over his shoulder to me, his voice wounded and breaking. Then he starts running and stripping, following Henry into the forest on the side of the mountain. I can’t protest. I can just watch as he leaves a trail of clothing and then, in a whisper of movement, disappears.

  Another moment passes before Benji quietly goes to collect the clothing. Carrying it in a bundle, he tosses it into the back seat of my car. The car rocks with the force of the door slamming shut, the only indication of the mood Benji’s in.

  “Shall I drive?” he asks, coming around to the hood, where I’m still sitting. Numb, I hand him the keys. My body and mind are at war, coming down from the frenzied lust and bursts of fear and adrenaline. The nasty voice of my bone witch heritage is still berating me.

  When I don’t move, Benji sighs and puts his hands on my waist, sliding me down. When we’re this close, I feel him stiffen, his eyes locked on my breasts. Glancing down, the dots of my blood are black in the moonlight.

  His eyes are blacker, pools of hunger.

  “When did you last feed?”

  “You.”

  “Can you walk away from this?”

  His fingers flex into my hips, every bit as bruising and dangerous as Abe’s claws. “I… yes. It isn’t just that kind of hunger.”

  It takes a moment to click, and when it does, I feel stupid. Of course. “Will blood help stave off… whatever is going on?” I ask, moving slowly to tug down the front of my shirt. I’m tired and I’m so confused, but only a fool would forget that Abe was dangerous to me and Benji has, once again, come to my rescue. Without making me feel ashamed. My shame is my own creation. No judgment, no harsh words.

  Just a devoted friend.

  This is a gift I can give in return, especially when I’m unsure of being able to return his other feelings.

  “Sadie-- this will have to be the last time for quite awhile. I’m taking on more of your emotions and too much, too often, can turn you into my thrall. Neither of us want that.”

  “It’s okay. I trust you to know when and when not to. Feed and take me home, Benji, and we can talk about it tomorrow night.”

  His teeth flash for the quickest of moments before he bends and latches to my chest, to the swell of my breast, licking and sucking at the wounds Abe’s claws made.

  In the end, it’s a win-win for both of us. In his strong, cold arms I’m able to shudder and let my body process all that’s happened. I also gain the benefit of his ability to seal the wound when he’s finished. It won’t scar too badly.

  But that’s the body. After tonight, what new scars have formed between Benji and me? Between Abe and me?

  Benji disappears after driving my car and me back to the apartment. No words, no goodbye. I suppose I could have started the conversation while he was driving, but the silence was a gift; a chance to hide from my own embarrassment.

  Inside, Ingrid is on the couch, munching on a sandwich. “Ms. Nickles stopped by to see you,” she tells me with a pointed look. “Said she needed you to come help her look at something in her apartment?”

  Cringing, I slide onto the couch beside her. “Ugh, okay. I’ll go down tomorrow.”

  “That’s good, because I need to know why you’re home so early.”

  “Early? It’s like… almost eleven.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Exactly. Early. What happened on the date with Abe?”

  So I tell her about dinner and Tiffany’s, remembering to hand her the bag the Brownie sent, and the drive after. “It’s hard to explain, but it was like sex was the only option. I couldn’t even conceive of not screwing him.”

  Ingrid’s laugh is low. “Well, duh. That’s what happens when you don’t bone someone in forever.”

  My nose wrinkles. “I hate the phrase ‘boning’.”

  “Hits a little too close to home?”

  I stick my tongue out at her. “So anyway, it felt almost like magic. Like a compulsion. Except we were the only ones there. Until we were on the hood of my car--”

  “He was doing you on the hood of your car?” Ingrid’s eyes grow wistful. She’s been unrepentant in sharing all the details of being pregnant, including being horny enough to put a pubescent boy to shame.

  “We didn’t get a chance to do it. There was the start of some heavy petting when Benji and Henry came out of the woods and cock blocked me.”

  “Technically they cock blocked Abe. They… twat swatted you.”

  “Holy crap, I thought you wanted to hear what happened!”

  Her hands fly up in apology. “I do, I do. I’m sorry. Go on, please. Being mounted on the hood of a car, jealous vampire and your beau’s daddy show up.”

  “A sire isn’t a daddy. Gross.”

  “Ah, but Benji is a jealous vampire?”

  The heat in my cheeks stings so much I hide behind a throw pillow. “Yes? No? I don’t know.” I thrust the pillow down again, placing it on my lap as if that will bring me some measure of safety or comfort. “For months now, Benji’s been acting totally normal. I’ve doubted on numerous occasions whether the kiss even happened. But then the other night we were here on the couch, and the mood shifted, and I considered kissing him.”

  Ingrid’s eyebrows press hard togeth
er. She’s never had anything against Benji, but I know some of the other paranormal groups tend to dislike vampires. It’s for the same reason as bone witches, I suppose-- it’s hard to feel comfortable around someone whose magic stems from taking your essence, be it blood or bone.

  “I probably would have, too, if the phone call hadn’t come about Abe.” Sinking down into the couch, I look to her for sympathy. “At this point I’m so wound up that it doesn’t matter who it is, so long as I can take out some of this frustration.”

  Instead of laughing at my joke, though, Ingrid frowns. “Sadie, I’m going to say something, and you know how much I love you, so you know that I’m not trying to be mean. But whoa, girl, you are being a huge jerk.”

  My shoulders tighten. “What do you mean? I’m the one who couldn’t talk to Abe for all this time and then, when we were getting somewhere it was interrupted! And Benji has been cold, and then out of nowhere hot--well, okay, he’s never hot because vampire, but you get what I’m saying!”

  Her hand cups my cheek. “I do hear you, and I totally get why you're feeling frustrated. But Sadie…” Her voice is soft, choosing words that, no matter how gentle, I won’t want to hear. “You're not some teenager in a silly book. This isn’t a love triangle where everybody wins. You’re leading both of them on, and Abe and Benji deserve better than that.”

  Hot tears threaten in my eyes and I squeeze my lids shut, hoping to stem the waterworks before they spill over. “Well, you’re the psychic. Can you just tell me which one to pick?”

  Her frown deepens. I was making a joke, but it seems as if she’s truly considering it. “I could try, if you want me to. Commissioner Biscuit has definitely increased my accuracy.”

  It’s a nice offer. And lord knows it’s a tempting one, as well. But Ingrid’s father made sure we both knew at a young age that prophecy and visions always come with risk. He believed that it wasn’t fair to know what was coming, so the world tended to throw a wrench in to even things up. When I remember Ingrid’s visions about me being caught in a storm, and her remembering numbers that became the key to my freedom and my life, I know that in each case, I was in real danger. It could have gone either way.