I nodded. “You can’t begin to imagine.”
“Come,” he said, taking my arm. He escorted me into the kitchen, which had quite the gathering.
I hesitated but Marcus kept pulling. None of the faces looked familiar. There were a couple teenagers and some older twenty-somethings. Everyone looked clean cut and had dressed casual but nicely.
“Allow me to present Aurora Sky,” Marcus announced.
I hoped my lips were smiling. They had a tendency to grimace all on their own when I felt uncomfortable. Luckily, everyone in the group introduced themselves, though I forgot each name the moment a new one entered my ears.
“Aurora is a student at West,” Marcus continued. “She wants to relax after a long week.”
“Relax? It’s Friday night!” someone said.
I found myself laughing with everyone else. Probably just nerves.
“Will you drink a whiskey with us, Aurora?” a guy to the right of me asked.
“That sounds perfect. Thank you.”
The boy turned to Marcus. “Gorgeous and polite. Where did you find her, Marcus?”
My face heated at being called gorgeous.
Marcus chuckled. “She found me.”
“Lucky man.”
“Tell that to Francesco,” Marcus said. He left my side and joined a young man in the corner who began giggling the moment Marcus started speaking in his ear.
The boy poured two shots of whiskey and handed one to me. “Then I suppose we’ll only be drinking whiskey together,” he said, lifting his glass.
I hit my glass against his, careful not to spill.
Don’t do it, Aurora. Not again. It never leads to anything good.
I threw back the glass and coughed.
The boy’s eyes widened slightly at how fast I downed it. He chuckled then drank his in one fluid motion before refilling both our glasses. “What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s disgusting.”
He laughed and handed me the full shot.
“I like the way it burns, though,” I said. Much better than pouring freezing slush down my throat.
I let the whiskey slip down my throat slowly this time.
Conversations resumed around us. It made me feel better now that I wasn’t the focal point.
“What was your name again?” I asked the boy.
He grinned. “Thomas. You can call me Tom.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Tom.”
Tom lifted the whiskey bottle and raised a brow. I nodded. “Thanks.” I felt more relaxed with each sip. I did a lot better one on one than in bigger groups, and Tom seemed nice.
“How long have you and Fane been together?” he asked after we’d done another shot.
I felt warm inside. It felt good. I leaned against the counter. There were only two other people who’d lingered behind and that felt good, too. More room to breathe.
“Not long,” I said, running my hand along the countertop.
Tom watched my fingers as I stroked the smooth black granite. “It’s not like Francesco to leave his woman unattended.”
“Yeah? Well, our relationship is complicated.”
Tom looked me up and down, a glint in his eyes. “Giving Francesco a run for his money, are you?”
For some reason that made me laugh. Once I started it was hard to stop.
Oh yes. I was giving him a run for his money all right. The vampire and the vampire hunter. I began laughing harder.
Tom laughed too, thank God, so I didn’t look like a madwoman laughing on my own. “Can I get you a glass of water?” he asked when we’d regained our composure.
“No thanks,” I said, leaning more weight into the counter. “I feel good. Do you go to school, Tom?”
“Nah,” he said with a wide grin. “I don’t get nostalgic like some of these other vamps. High school sucked. Why would I go back for more?”
“That deserves a toast,” I said, grabbing the whiskey bottle. I filled Tom’s glass too quickly and ended up spilling on the counter.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said.
I stopped halfway on my glass to avoid a second spill. I lifted my shot. “To life after high school.”
“The only kind of life,” Tom said.
I managed not to spill as we clinked glasses.
“We should all go out sometime,” Tom said after he finished his shot. “Movie night or something. Double date.”
Double date? I nearly snorted whiskey out my nose. This felt surreal.
“Got any friends interested in meeting a polite young man?”
“My friends are in the dark about all this,” I said. Better than admitting to being a loner. “Except Noel Harper. Have you met her?”
“Yes, I have. She’s sweet on Gavin.” Tom laughed. “Maybe I should enroll in high school.”
“Forget that,” I said. “Stick to your guns.”
Tom poured us each another shot. I left mine on the counter. I felt warm and good-humored at the moment, and I wanted to keep it that way.
“What about you, Aurora? What do you have planned for life after high school?”
“College.” Tom laughed with me.
“College and drinking?” he asked, raising a brow.
I wavered slightly. Definitely feeling the whiskey. I hoped I hadn’t gone too far. “College and dancing. I love dancing. How come there’s no dancing at any of these parties?”
Tom’s eyes lit up. “You’re absolutely right. There should be dancing! Come on.” He grabbed my hand and led me to the living room. I stopped when Tom stopped on the edge of the sunken living room. “Marcus, Aurora and I want to dance.”
Marcus turned away from the young man he’d been conversing with. I thought he’d show annoyance, but his lips lifted into a full grin. He clapped his hands twice. “Dancing! Excellent idea!” Marcus grabbed a remote off a speaker in the corner of the room. A moment later, “Ring My Bell” by Anita Ward began playing.
“Where’s the disco ball?” someone yelled.
“Bedroom,” Marcus answered.
We all laughed. Tom took my hand, and together we stepped down to the living room. The furniture and statues made it challenging, but we managed to groove in place, lifting our arms in unison to ring our “bells.” Tom moved side to side with a goofy smile. It made me laugh.
I felt my limbs begin to loosen up.
A guy next to us snapped along with the beat. Just about everyone had started dancing. The whole room and everyone in it were rocking. I cranked my arm in the air.
Smiling, laughing, dancing—this is what I needed, not drinking.
I shimmied in front of Tom. He laughed and shook his arms in return.
“I think I was born in the wrong era,” I said. I mean, how could anyone not enjoy themselves with disco blaring from the speakers?
The song ended too soon. “YMCA” by the Village People shot out of the speakers. The room erupted in laughter.
“Oh my God,” I said.
Tom shook his head, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “Vampires.”
“My party, my music,” Marcus yelled over the singing.
I shrugged and began doing the YMCA. The Bee Gees “Stayin’ Alive” cranked through the living room of the palace when Fane walked in and took in the scene. Marcus had gone into full John Travolta Saturday Night Fever moves. Fane looked more like John Travolta from Grease in his black jeans, black tee, and black leather jacket—and a sly smile on his lips. Somehow I doubted he’d start shaking his ass and grabbing his crotch.
Fane did remove his jacket in one smooth motion and toss it aside. It landed on the back of a chair. Way smoother than Travolta.
Fane walked up to Tom and me. Before I could say anything, he jutted his chin toward Marcus. “Now there’s a sight I haven’t seen in a long time.”
“Not long enough,” Tom said.
The guys laughed, but the way Fane looked Tom up and down was far from friendly. He glanced at me then back at Tom.
Fane looked at Tom with his own bemused smile. “Lucky for you.” Fane turned to me. “Now that I’m here, what do you say we go somewhere a little less seventies?” He glanced at the spiral staircase leading to the rooms above.
“I’m all yours,” I said in a flirtatious voice. “Tom, thank you for the drink and dance.”
“My pleasure,” he said. “Let me know if you ever want to hang out. Francesco has my number.”
“Sure, why don’t I give you Tom’s number,” Fane said under his breath as we walked away. “Shmuck.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “I thought he was nice.”
“Thomas? Thinks he’s James Cagney.”
I frowned. “Who?”
“James Cagney,” Fane repeated impatiently. “American film legend.” He made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “God, I’m getting old.”
I chuckled softly. “No, actually, you aren’t.”
“Thinks he’s James Dean,” Fane tried again.
“Ah, Rebel Without a Cause.”
“Exactly.”
“What movies was the other James guy in?”
Fane’s lips twisted in thought. I loved those lips. “The Public Enemy. Angels with Dirty Faces. Love Me or Leave Me. Yankee Doodle Dandy.”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Didn’t see any of those in film class.”
“Film class?”
“Yeah, I’m taking it with Noel.”
Fane’s lips curved. “I should tell Joss. It might motivate him to give high school a try.” He stretched his hand out for me to go up the staircase first.
I stopped abruptly, causing Fane to bump into me. I turned around, momentarily breathless when I found myself against his chest. “I need another drink.” All that dancing had started sobering me up. I needed at least three more shots. I needed to be able to blame the alcohol if something happened between Fane and I. Something that involved tongues not teeth.
18
Step Three
“I see you’re back in self-destruct mode,” Fane said, staring at my throat when I threw back my first shot of whiskey.
“I’m just having fun. Don’t I deserve to have fun?” I smacked the glass onto the granite countertop.
Gloria Gaynor began singing “I Will Survive” from the living room. Lately I felt like every song on the planet had been written specifically to mock my life. Aurora Sky: The Musical. One big bloody harmonic extravaganza.
Fane’s gaze moved to my eyes. He stared. Okay, that wasn’t unnerving. “Kill any vampires while you were away?” he finally asked.
“Actually, I saved one.” Never mind that I’d probably live to regret it. If Giselle Morrel sniffed out any clue as to my involvement in her family’s death I could have another Renard on my hands. Angry vampire hunting me down in Anchorage. My favorite kind. At least she didn’t look that intimidating. I’d like to think I could take on a skinny blonde who collected stuffed animals and fairy figurines. Then again there’d been swords on her wall. Hmm.
“So now you’ve been transferred to vampire search and rescue?” Fane asked in a mocking tone.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Didn’t think so,” Fane said.
I poured myself another whiskey. “Want one?”
“Whiskey isn’t my liquid of choice.”
“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You prefer blood.”
“Wine, actually.” He backed against the counter and folded his arms low over his chest. I could feel Fane watching my eyes as I stared at the outline of his abs. He might have questionable hair and mismatched lips, but Fane’s abs were rock solid and utterly dreamy in the dark. Not that I’d gotten a good feel recently.
“I owned a vineyard in France for many years,” he continued. “Another life.”
My hand stilled as I reached for the whiskey bottle. I recalled what Valerie had said about Fane having contacts all around the world. Had he known the Morrels back then? I had to force myself not to dig for more. Not an informant. Not my problem. Instead I asked, “If you enjoyed it so much, why did you leave?”
Fane stared at me a moment before answering. “It is one thing to spend a lifetime in the same place, another to spend an eternity.”
“So you won’t stay in Alaska?” My chest suddenly ached.
“Forever?” Fane chuckled. “I never stay in the same place for more than fifty years. Sometimes less than five.”
“So you’re just going to keep going from city to city, country to country?”
Fane’s eyes met mine. “It’s worked out so far.”
I reached for the whiskey bottle, but Fane grabbed it first. He moved away from the counter faster than I could’ve anticipated. “Hey.”
He opened a cupboard and shoved the bottle inside. Then he pulled out a large glass and filled it with water from the tap. “Drink this,” he said, handing it to me.
Something about the way he said it made me drink. Halfway through the water, I set the glass down. “I feel sick.” My organs had started coiling in on themselves, or maybe the dancing, drinking, and water had all mixed together and reacted violently. I placed a hand on my abdomen.
“You should drink the rest of the water,” Fane said calmly.
I made a face. “If I drink any more water I’m going to hurl.”
“Good. You’ll feel better.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Do you enjoy watching me suffer?”
“Not at all.” He sounded sincere. If I hadn’t felt so sick all of a sudden, I would have wanted to kiss him. How humiliating. This wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to loosen up and feel sexy.
It hadn’t worked with Scott, and it was failing dismally with Fane. I should have known better.
I eyed the glass of water. Even the thought of another sip caused my stomach to protest. I brought this on myself.
I grabbed the glass suddenly and chugged down the remaining water. My stomach rolled as though riding the waves of a storm. One nasty ass shit storm.
I set the empty glass down shakily. “I’ll be right back.” I started toward the living room.
“There’s one to the left of the front door,” Fane said.
“Thank you,” I said.
I hurried to the front entrance and shut myself inside the bathroom. I lifted the toilet seat, chanting in my head, never again, never again, never again. My stomach held on stubbornly. At this point, I felt so miserable I just wanted to get it over with. Saliva gathered in my throat. I spit into the toilet. It foamed on the surface of the water.
“How romantic,” I said, and nearly burst into laughter.
There is no worse feeling than throwing up, except maybe the agony your stomach puts you through before you do it. At some point you’re begging for it to be over, no matter what you have to go through to get to the other side.
Finally, my stomach let go. Luckily I found a bottle of mouthwash in the cabinet below the sink. I rinsed my mouth, splashed water on my face, and dabbed my cheeks and forehead dry.
The face in the mirror only looked half-human, but I felt as though I’d returned to the land of the living.
Fane had his jacket on when I returned to the kitchen. If it had been any other guy I might have been humiliated, but this was Fane. We’d been together. We’d made out. Not for very long, but long enough to create something of a familiar bond between us—no matter how much he pulled back.
“Want to get out of here?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
We didn’t bother saying goodbye. I’m sure Marcus and the crew would survive without us. Ha, ha.
“How did you get here?” Fane asked when we stepped outside.
“Cab.”
“Where’s Noel?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” Right, so I totally lifted that line from Melcher.
“Noel trusts me, unlike you,” F
ane said, his words hard.
Ah, yes. Noel had spilled our little secret in a moment of panic, not that I wasn’t grateful. If Noel hadn’t shown up with Fane I would have bled to death after being gutted by Renard’s evil crony.
But I had to admit, it was interesting how Noel’s role of informant went both ways. Had she told Henry or Gavin? If Gavin didn’t know already, I’m sure Valerie would fill him in. I didn’t like the thought of that. Pretty soon every bloodsucker in the state would be onto us, and I wouldn’t be able to cross the street without looking over my shoulder. Fine, so long as they all knew I hadn’t signed up for this!
I followed Fane to his car, The Tank. After grabbing the handle on the passenger’s side, I stopped and looked over the hood at Fane. “Noel panicked.”
Fane shot me a lazy smile. “Noel knew exactly what she was doing.”
I frowned and lowered myself inside the car. A feeling of nostalgia settled into the pit of my stomach as I buckled myself into the worn seat. “I see The Tank’s still running.”
Fane patted the dashboard and grinned. “She’s managed to keep up with me so far.”
It tugged at my heartstrings to see Fane flash one of his real smiles. His full upper lip looked so sexy when he did. When he smiled like that he came to life. He didn’t sparkle (are you kidding me?), but he had this glow about him.
I stared at his slim, white fingers as he turned the keys in the ignition. Even now, the sound of a car starting caused a jolt of panic, but it no longer made me reach for the vehicle’s handlebar.
Fane stared out the windshield as he asked, “Where to?”
“Surprise me.”
He grinned and put the car in drive. Fane headed towards home but passed my exit. He kept going south on the highway. His house then? That’s what it looked like from the exit he took, but he passed his neighborhood. Denali High loomed in the distance. That feeling of nostalgia crept back inside me.
We approached the empty parking lot, lit from above by all the high-powered lights. The lot had been plowed, the snow pushed to the sides in hill-shaped mounds, forming walls on all four sides of the parking lot. It reminded me of a hockey rink.
Fane pulled in and put the car in park. We idled in the parking lot, facing the school.
Northern Bites (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter, Vol. 2) Page 17