Saber insisted I ingest the pint of blood.
I told them both to shove it.
Well, what could Saber do? Stick a straw in the bag and pry my mouth open? Hardly.
Neil took Maggie home at four in the morning and spent the night in her bed. Saber took me home at six and camped on the couch. We didn’t say two words worth repeating from the time March broke up Saber’s rant at me until the following afternoon.
I came to awareness sluggishly until the mattress shifted and my eyelids flew open. Propped on his elbow, Saber’s cobalt gaze solemnly assessed me.
“How’s Maggie? Where is she?” I asked rapid fire and started to rise.
Saber pulled me back to bed. “Maggie’s fine. She had a call about some breakthrough on the house. Permits and a dedicated crew or something like that. Neil’s with her.” He paused a long second. “How are you?”
“I need a shower,” I said, then realized that last shower I’d taken was with Saber. “I mean, I’m good.”
“You need this before anything else,” he said, reaching behind him to the bedside table. He hooked two bottles of Starbloods in his tanned fingers.
“I wish you’d stop shoving blood at me,” I said, snagging both bottles and setting them on my side table.
“I wish you’d stop taking chances with your life,” he said sternly.
“Afterlife,” I corrected.
“Whatever. You scared about ten years off me last night.”
“It wasn’t that chancy,” I said quietly. “I am a vampire.”
“You’re also someone I’d like to keep around for a while.”
“You would?”
He raised a brow. “You think I sleep with vampires all the time?”
“I didn’t say that.” I picked at the sheet edge, then met his eyes again. “I don’t know what to think, Saber.”
“Neither do I,” he admitted, taking my hand, “but I’m willing to take the ride to see where this goes.” He paused a beat. “Are you?”
“I don’t know how much time we’ll have together. I have to make new costumes. I have to study.”
“I have investigations to conduct. Like into the werepanther.”
“It’s not a were. It’s a shape-shifter. A bewitched cat that turns into a panther. Or maybe the other way around,” I said, wishing I could think of a better description. “But it’s not a were.”
“A bewitched animal?” he asked, eyes narrowing in thought. “How do you know for sure?”
“Weres, real lycanthropes, have a certain smell. Cat smells completely different, and I sense magick on her.”
“Is this a psychic thing?” he pressed.
I debated a nanosecond, but I trusted him. “I’ve seen something similar. My friend Triton. The one from the old days.”
“The one you were in love with?”
“Yes. He shape-shifted into a dolphin, but I always felt the same sense of magick from him. Triton wasn’t a were, and Cat isn’t, either.”
He looked at the oversized stuffed dolphin that rested on my desk, quiet for so long I thought he’d up and leave.
Instead he gave a single nod. “Okay, then.”
“That’s all? Just okay?”
“Yeah, that’s all.” He reached to tuck a sprig of hair behind my ear. “I trust that you know the difference, and I trust you to tell me the truth.”
“Oh. Well, good.” Feeling awkward, I cleared my throat. “What’s happening with Etienne?”
He grinned. “He’s booked into St. Johns County jail. In the infirmary for now.”
“Will he go to trial?”
“Oh, yeah. He can’t seem to confess fast enough.”
“Even to Yolette’s murder?” I asked, surprised. “I didn’t think there was solid evidence on him.”
“There wasn’t, but he’s wearing Detective March thin unburdening himself of his crimes.”
His too-innocent expression made me ask, “Did you talk to Etienne?”
“I had a word or ten with him.”
“And you said what?”
Saber waggled his brows. “I may have mentioned prison as a viable alternative to another cat attack.”
“Have I mentioned you’re evil?”
Saber shrugged. “He shot you twice.”
“I can add. That nutcase owes me two costumes and a paint job for my truck.”
“Princesca,” Saber said, shaking his head and shifting closer, “are you going to shut up long enough to let me kiss you?”
“Are we finished fighting?”
“Yep.”
“Is kissing all you have in mind?” I asked as I snuggled against him and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Hell, no,” he said with a grin. “I need a shower, too.”
I didn’t drink my Starbloods until a long time later.
My first real date with Saber wasn’t a normal one, but nothing in my afterlife had been normal since he swept into it.
He wanted to see me surf, so Friday about two hours before sunset we met at Crescent Beach. I brought my new surfboard—the one Neil helped me select—and an Igloo ice chest stocked with wine for Saber and store-bought sweet tea for me. Saber showed up in his sexy swim trunks—the man did have well-muscled legs and a butt I could squeeze forever. He also brought crispy fried chicken with all the fixin’s.
We rubbed our wet bodies together in the waves a while. I wanted to reenact the beach scene I’d seen in an old movie, but Saber insisted I surf before darkness fell.
Now, as I paddled out to catch the last wave of the day, Saber sat on the shore watching from our beach blanket. The sunset burst in pinks and purples and indigo blues. Maybe the scene wasn’t everyone’s picture of a romantic setting, but with Saber there, it was mine.
A big wave surged under my board, and I sprang to my feet to ride it in. I waved at Saber; he waved back. The moment was perfection.
Then my gaze was drawn to the dunes and to a man who stood with one hip cocked. Just the way Triton used to stand.
I squinted at the lone figure, vampire vision kicking in.
It was him. Triton. From the distance, our gazes locked. Then he looked down at Saber.
I don’t know if I made so much as a peep out loud, but in my head I cried Triton’s name and all but flew out of the surf. I was still attached to my board by the leg leash as I hit the sand, and I stumbled a step before ripping the Velcro free of my ankle. Saber shouted and pounded after me as I scrambled up the dune, but it was empty.
I scanned the boardwalks to the beach houses, the patio of the nearby restaurant, even the rolling dunes of native scrub plants. No one was there.
Triton had vanished, but a golden dolphin charm just like the one he used to wear twinkled in the sand.
Saber stood quietly at my side for a moment while questions I couldn’t ask swirled. Why did Triton leave? Would he find me again? Where did he live now, when did he get to town, how long was he staying? I waited for the wrenching ache of longing for Triton to rip into my heart, but it didn’t come.
Oh, I still yearned to see him—to touch him and talk to him—but only as a long-treasured friend. The soul-deep pain was gone. Somehow, somewhere, I’d let it go.
Saber shifted around me and scooped up the charm. He cradled my hand, dropped the charm in it, and closed my fingers over the precious metal warm from the sand. Then Saber threaded his fingers through my hair and tilted my face to his.
“Did that belong to Triton?”
“I think so.”
“The way you streaked out of the water, you just think so?”
“It was his. I saw him.”
Saber’s thumbs made little circles on my temples. “I can’t compete with your past, Cesca.”
The charm in my fist, I slid my arms around Saber’s waist and smiled.
“There is no competition, Saber.”
“You sure?”
“Mmm-hmm.” I fit my body into his and felt him stir. “I’m through brooding over my past
.”
“You are?” His voice went just a little hoarse. “Why?”
“Because my present with you is such a kick.”
La Vida Vampire Page 25