“Want anything?”
You. “A Coke would be nice.”
She grabbed a second can and joined him at the table. “My eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, were they?”
Aden studied his drink for a minute, gathering his thoughts. He wondered how much he should tell her. He had a sinking feeling the man was a slayer, although he had no idea why they might be following Carissa. In the end, he settled on a half-truth. More could come when he had her complete trust.
“No, I saw him. I don’t think Jaune is as safe as it used to be.”
Carissa sighed and took a sip. “I was afraid of that.”
She sat back in her chair and stared out at the drowning night. Thunder boomed and lightning illuminated the area, but no more shadowy people appeared.
They sat in silence for a while – Aden pretending to sip his Coke while she drank hers – each lost in their own thoughts. After warring with his conscience, Aden was the first to speak. He gave Carissa a speculative look over his can.
“This may seem forward, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone tonight.” Carissa’s eyes widened as he plowed on, not giving her a chance to speak. “I promise I won’t try anything. It’s just…that guy has me on edge. Something doesn’t feel right. No one in their right mind would be coming up to occupied cars for no reason—especially not in this kind of storm.” Not even a vampire. They didn’t like looking like drowned rats any more than mortals did.
When she still didn’t say anything, Aden swallowed loudly and fidgeted in his seat, his face heating under her silent scrutiny. He reached up to scratch his ear, frowning. “Okay, never mind. I wasn’t trying to freak you out.”
Carissa shook her head with a smile. “You didn’t. I guess I’m just not used to people caring this much. Nana does, and my mom, ditzy as she is, cares more than I thank her for.” She smirked. “Outsiders don’t usually bother themselves with the inner-workings of our little town.”
Aden laughed and tugged on his ear again. “How did you know I was an outsider?”
Carissa sat back and giggled. “Aden, you sound like a Yankee. We don’t have ‘caahs’ around here. We have cars.”
He laughed with her. “You can’t take the north out of the guy, I guess.”
“No, you can’t. My husband’s mother was from Boston. She married a man from Shreveport, and they lived here in Jaune until a few weeks after Ryan passed. She never lost her accent.”
“Tell me about Ryan.”
Carissa looked away with a frown. “I’d rather not. It’s kind of a touchy subject right now – I’m not sure I really knew him.”
Aden placed his hand over hers, pleased when she flipped hers over and held on. She focused on the window again, taking another sip of her soda as she shook her hair behind her shoulders, exposing her neck. He glanced at the clock on the microwave, noticing that he’d been with her for an hour and a half. It was past time for him to have another meal. Carissa turned back toward him, her head cocked to the side. Her skin stretched, the vein pulsing along the smooth column of her throat. Aden’s nostrils flared at the scent. A negative – his favorite flavor. His grip tightened on his can, denting the metal with a pop of sound.
“Are you alright, Aden? Do you want something else to drink?”
Yeah, your blood. He shook his head and released the can. “No thanks.” Standing up, he looked around and pointed toward the hallway. “Is your bathroom down the hall?”
Her brow furrowed, but if she noticed his anxiety, she didn’t say. “Yeah, at the end. You can’t miss it.”
The scent of her blood filled his senses. His gums tingled, threatening to lengthen his fangs. He turned away quickly and took the coward’s way out, fleeing into the other room as if the hounds of Hell were on his heels. Aden closed the door and locked it quietly behind him. He didn’t have much time. Lucky for him, she had a bigger window in her bathroom than he did in his. He opened the glass carefully and clambered out. One of the benefits of being undead was super speed, and he made use of that talent, speeding across the street and to his back door in less than a minute.
Drawing his key from his pocket, he worked the latch and slipped inside. After grabbing a couple of packets of blood from the fridge, he tore off the tops of the packages and guzzled them cold on the run back to Carissa’s house. He managed to crawl back inside just under the three-minute mark. While still standing inside the bathtub, he reached over and made a show of flushing the toilet, using the sound to mask the rattle of the window closing. Thinking he was in the clear, he made to step out of the tub while simultaneously shoving the empty blood packets into his jeans pocket.
Unfortunately, he didn’t consider his clumsiness in his haste to keep his secret.
With his right leg poised over the side, Aden’s left foot slipped, and he fell hard against the back wall. He pushed himself up, but the wet soles of his shoes didn’t allow him to gain traction. As he slipped again, he windmilled his arms to regain his balance. His left arm whipped out, knocking against the cold-water handle. He reached out to steady himself again, but instead of grabbing the faucet, he pushed in the shower diverter. Water shot out of the shower head in a freezing spray that hit him right on the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and slumped to the bottom of the tub. He reached over and switched off the water with an angry twist of his wrist. Wiping the water from his face, he swept the strands of hair off his forehead with his other hand.
Cursing, he rose gingerly to his feet just as Carissa banged her fist on the door.
“Aden! Are you okay in there?” Her voice sounded muffled through the closed door, but he could hear the underlying concern in her words.
By sheer luck and the grace of God, Aden made it safely over the side of the tub. He immediately wrenched open the door, and every ounce of the blood he drank rushed to his cheeks, lighting them aflame. Carissa’s mouth hung open as she gaped at him, and he knew he looked a sight—even wetter than he was when he came back into the bathroom from his house.
The corner of her mouth twitched as she regarded him from the other side of the doorway. “Do I even want to know what happened?”
Aden let his eyes roam around the room, studiously gazing anywhere but into Carissa’s eyes. “I tripped,” he mumbled, reaching up to tug on his ear.
Carissa snorted, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh, yet her voice was breathless and hitching with every word when she asked, “O-ver wh-at?”
Scuffing one of his boots against the rug-less floor—the floor that was getting wetter and wetter the longer he stood there dripping on it—he pointed to his feet, which were a size fourteen. They were massive enough to be a plausible excuse. And that’s when it happened. First, Carissa sniffled. Then, she snorted. She turned away, her body vibrating. Her face was as red as his as she gave up the fight.
Doubling over, she clutched at her sides, laughter wracking her body. “I swear! I’m not! Laughing! At! You!” she guffawed while Aden continued to stand, speechless, in the doorway. He watched Carissa attempt to straighten up, but she didn’t succeed as more laughter shook her body. She braced a hand on the wall. “A minute. Give me a minute.”
At the sight of helpless tears streaming down her face, Aden let out his own barking laugh. It was nice to know some things didn’t change when you died. He was still as uncoordinated as ever. Carissa’s laughter subsided into strained giggles a few minutes later, and she finally managed to stand up straight. She turned toward him; their faces still identical shades of red—about two steps from vine-ripened tomato.
Aden couldn’t prevent his smile as he looked at her. She was beautiful. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and the green summer dress clung to her curves, cupping her rosy breasts, and cinching in her narrow waist. He liked his woman to have a little meat on her bones, and Carissa fit the bill in spectacular fashion. She was the most attractive woman—in both figure and personality—that he’d ever met.
The room took on a
blueish hue, and Aden knew his eyes were glowing. He watched Carissa sober up with a jerk of her shoulders, her face flushing crimson. The sound of her galloping heartbeat and the way her teeth worried her bottom lip spoke of nerves over fear, and he wondered if anyone had ever looked at her like that before.
He grinned. “I’d like to say I’m usually more graceful, but I’d be lying.”
Carissa snorted and pointed to his right. “There are towels in that cabinet.” She regarded him with one eyebrow raised. “It looks like you may need a few.”
Chapter Thirteen
Walking over, his soaked shoes squelching against the floor, Aden removed two towels from the cabinet. He wrapped one around his shoulders, placing the other on the floor where he’d tracked the most water. He moved over and sat on the toilet lid to remove his socks and shoes, setting them on the side of the tub to dry out until he was ready to head back home.
Although he didn’t look up, he felt Carissa’s eyes on him as he removed the band from his hair. After getting wet again during his fall, most of the locks had escaped, and they were hanging in dripping tangles around his face, sticking to his skin. Aden used the towel from his shoulders to wring out his hair. Leaving the damp strands down, he set his hair tie on the counter. He stood up and tossed the wet cloth over the shower rod to allow it to dry.
All the while, Carissa stood in the hallway watching him. The laughter was gone, but he couldn’t read her eyes. For the first time in his existence, he wished for psychic power that wasn’t strictly connected to his bite. Vampires could use their gaze to place their victim in a trance, but it was impossible to enter someone’s mind without the energy bond caused when fangs penetrated the donor’s skin.
Carissa took a step back as he neared the doorway. “Are you sure you’re okay? It sounded like you hit pretty hard.”
“I’m fine. Honestly, I’d be more concerned for your wall. I think I may have chipped the paint.”
“Ah, well, that can be fixed.” Carissa twisted her fingers together. She chewed on her bottom lip, drawing his gaze. Aden wished again for the power to read her mind, but the wish was unnecessary.
“Oh, to hell with it,” she murmured. “Lift up your shirt and let me see your back.”
Amused and a bit shocked, he turned around and obliged, knowing she would find nothing. Cuts to a vampire’s skin healed almost immediately. A person could draw a blade down his arm, beginning at the elbow, and by the time they reached his wrist, the cut would be more than halfway healed. As she ran her hands over his back, his thoughts scattered. Her touch was as light as a feather, gentle and soft, relaxing as she glided her fingertips over his skin. Aden suppressed a pleasant shudder as her hands traveled lower, stopping just above the low-slung waist of his jeans.
He closed his eyes. He knew she was seeing nothing. Not a blemish. Not a scrape. Not a bruise. Nothing at all. Carissa’s hands lifted, her breath sucked in on an audible gasp. He turned around slowly, mentally preparing to fence her questions.
Her eyes were wide, her gaze dark and wary. “I can’t believe your back isn’t even red. Your fall damn near rattled the house, but there’s no sign of anything on your back. You’re one hell of a lucky guy, aren’t you?”
Aden shrugged. “I guess so.” He leaned against the counter and smiled at Carissa. “But it got your hands on me, didn’t it?”
She smacked his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Yes I am.” He grinned. “And now I know you like me.”
She laughed, reaching up to touch his hair, surprising him. Pleasure gleamed in her eyes before she blinked, clearing her gaze. She lowered her hand, the pale pink of her cheeks blooming a fetching shade of rose.
“Let me get you another hair tie,” she suggested softly, “I have a few that aren’t so wet.”
Almost too late, Aden realized Carissa was walking around him toward the counter. If she looked at the mirror, she would receive the shock of her life. Although a vampire did show up in the glass, the vision was distorted and blurry. If his eyes freaked her out, she’d probably scream in terror at his warped reflection. So, as she moved around him, Aden slipped out of the room and into the hallway. When she turned toward him, her hand on the reflective cabinet, her eyes narrowed with confusion, and he suspected he hadn’t moved fast enough.
Carissa blinked, but shook her head without saying anything. She turned her attention back to the cabinet with a frown, pulling out a dry hair tie. She held it out to him, but he didn’t take it. If he moved forward he’s been in sight of the mirror again, and he didn’t want to chance it. He raised an eyebrow at her, and flashed her a smile. He listened as her heartbeat sped up again. She shook her hand at him, smiling back. Aden laughed.
“I’m not sure I want to go back in there,” he said with a grin, “The last time I was in your bathroom I nearly killed myself. Wouldn’t it be safer to stay out here?”
Carissa tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed again. Then, with a shrug, she straightened and stepped forward. “You’re probably right.”
Aden laughed again as he took the hair tie, expertly winding it around his hair.
“Okay, that was just cool. How can you do that without looking?”
He smiled. “Years and years of practice.”
As Aden stepped into the hallway the corner of Carissa’s mouth twitched.
“What?” he asked her. “Is my hair sticking up?”
She shook her head. “No, but I’m wondering if you might like a little assistance getting back to the kitchen. I’m sure your head can withstand your lack of grace, but I’m not looking to remodel my house again.”
As they walked down the hallway, Carissa kept a light hand on his arm and a smirk on her face. They moved into the kitchen, and Aden resumed his spot at the table while Carissa went to the counter and pulled out a frying pan.
“Are you hungry?” she asked him.
Yeah, come over here and I’ll show you. He shuffled his feet under the table as he tugged at his ear. “No thanks. I ate before I went on my walk.”
“That’s probably just as well,” she said with a smile, “I’m a hit and miss kind of chef. I’m typically left with two choices: burnt grilled cheese or burnt grilled cheese.”
Aden saluted her with his Coke, and flashed her a lopsided smirk. “I can’t cook worth a damn, either. My best work is done in the microwave.”
Carissa laughed as she pulled cheese and butter from the fridge. She set them beside the bread on her counter, talking as she set things up and heated her pan, “I’m really not that bad, but I usually opt for take-out just to make things easier. Since I live by myself, there’s no need for a huge dinner every night.”
He smiled again. “I’m a pretty big fan of take out, myself.” Now come on over and tilt your pretty neck to the side. He shook his head. Thoughts like that were going to get him into trouble.
Carissa spread butter on the bread. “Why is it I’ve never seen you in town, then?”
Aden shifted in his seat. His face flushed as he looked down at his hands. “I’ve spent a lot of time out of town until recently,” he fibbed. If one could call seventy-five years of nearly constant house arrest being “out of town.”
Carissa sandwiched the cheese between the bread slices. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Aden tugged on his ear.
She tossed the cold food into the hot pan. “What kept you away?”
“Work.”
“Where did you go?”
“Up north.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “A man of few words, huh?”
Aden smiled. “Oh, I know more than a few. I just don’t like to use them.”
She laughed as she turned back to the stove to flip her sandwich. “I see you’re more polished with those few words than you are on your feet.”
“And you’re an expert at throwing yours like daggers.”
Carissa shrugged, but Aden saw amusement in the way the corners of her mouth tilted upward. “Wh
at can I say? It’s a gift.”
She transferred her sandwich to a plate and turned off the burner. With steps much more graceful than his, she walked over to join him at the table. “I don’t normally eat or stay up this late, but I can’t settle.” She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “I’m glad you stayed.”
Aden smiled again. “It was my pleasure. I didn’t like the idea of that creep any more than you did.”
“Yeah, but it’s nearly eleven, and you must be tired.”
Aden smiled again. “Nah, I’m a night owl. This is when I usually work.”
“Oh? What do you do?”
“Research mostly. My friend has me on retainer. I specialize in finding people who don’t want to be found.”
Carissa took another bite and considered. “That makes sense.”
Aden raised his eyebrow.
She waved her grilled cheese in his direction. “You found my name online, and all you had was my address.”
He chuckled. “Well, that was easy. I just went to the Parish Assessor’s website and looked up your address. It shows the current owner, the date the home was constructed, and a bunch of other not-so-important details.” He mimicked her waving with his left hand. “Zoning permits and whatnot.”
She smiled. “That does sound simple.”
“It really was.” He shrugged.
“Then how come you still have to ask questions? If you found that, couldn’t you find more?”
Aden fidgeted, grateful Carissa was paying more attention to her sandwich than to him at that moment. He scratched his ear. “That’s where it got tricky,” he muttered under his breath.
She pushed her empty plate away. “Why was that?”
Aden clasped his hands on top of the table and leaned forward. “I couldn’t locate any more information on you or your husband.” His mouth twitched. “I’ve never failed before. I don’t care for the feeling.”
Crimson Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 1) Page 8