“They’re chocolate,” he said, indicating the donut container sitting nearby. “Your favorite.”
She gave him a sharp look before she remembered that he knew everything about her. The passion simmering deep down inside. The way she used sugar to sate that craving. The way she routinely chose a box of Krispy Kremes over a night out.
“They’re cold,” she announced, fighting the hunger deep in her belly as she kicked the box to the side. “And I hate Cosmo.” She fingered the new stack of magazines. “And I really hate Maxim.”
And then she tossed the magazines at him, turned her back to him, and switched on the silent treatment. If he wanted to keep her here for an entire week, she was going to make it the most unpleasant week of his afterlife.
And she wasn’t—repeat, was not—jumping his bones.
She didn’t need to. She had her suitcase and the sizeable vibrator packed away in the side pocket. If she found herself that worked up, she could always pull out Big Bubba and have a little fun all by herself.
Chapter Eleven
THE WOMAN WAS bat-shit crazy.
The truth struck as Boone pushed the boulder back into place and headed the short distance into town.
“They’re cold.”
Seriously?
Here he was trying to be nice, to make things a little more bearable for her while he saved her pretty little neck, and she was complaining about cold donuts?
He’d traveled an hour out of his way just to get those damned things. An hour he could have spent narrowing the search for the vampire that was terrorizing his town. Instead he’d headed to the nearest Krispy Kreme—which wasn’t all that near, by the way—and tried to play nice. To let her know he wasn’t the same loser sonofabitch who’d cut her off from civilization and held her prisoner in that closet.
She’d been Phil’s prisoner for three days, but the captivity had started long before that. She’d been his emotional prisoner for the full year she’d been with him. He’d dictated her life, telling her where she could go and who she could see and what she could do, and she’d let him because she’d wanted so much to fall in love. To be in love.
Her ex had taken full advantage of her, mindless of her feelings. Hell, the guy hadn’t given a shit about her.
Boone wasn’t the same selfish bastard.
And it mattered because?
It didn’t.
It shouldn’t.
That’s what he told himself as he walked into the jail and found Clay waiting for him. It was just a half hour shy of sunup and the deputy should have long since retired for the day. But a killer walked among them, and so everyone was burning the midnight oil and then some.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Clay said, his voice pushing into Boone’s thoughts before he could worry over his slip and slide down memory lane. “Where have you been?”
“Checking every motel and truck stop within a fifty mile radius. I was going to take a ride over to the old ranch house, but I ran out of time. I needed to drop off a few supplies to our guest. How’s Kit?”
Clay shrugged. “Better, but she’s still out of it. The doctor is keeping her sedated until she heals completely. Another day or two and she should be good as new.”
“How about everyone else?”
“We’re all on edge, but it’s business as usual as far as appearances go. Any luck getting a description from your girlfriend?”
Boone ignored the tingle of excitement that rushed through him at the notion and narrowed his gaze. “I had her write down everything she could remember. We know we’re dealing with a white male. Late thirties to mid-forties. Dark hair. Glowing red eyes and sharp teeth.”
“That describes a lot of vampires.” His gaze met Boone’s. “Maybe even Ike.”
“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair and wiped at his bleary eyes. He was tired. Exhausted. He’d spent the day tossing and turning and thinking when he should have been sleeping. The weariness multiplied as dawn crept closer and his hunger stirred. A few bags of blood would make him feel better. Stronger.
That, or you could head back to the cave.
The idea whispered through his head. A bad idea. He wasn’t having sex with Riley Davenport again. Nor was he going to bite her. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to do both simultaneously.
That horse had left the stable, and Boone wasn’t going to ride after it.
No matter how much he suddenly wanted to.
“I need to try to come up with some sort of picture to show her.”
“Good luck. You know we’re not all that photogenic.”
No, something about their power tended to blur the edges of a photograph. Add the ancient equipment available back then and it would be damn near impossible to find anything that actually resembled his sire.
“Maybe I can come up with an old ‘wanted’ poster, just to see if she recognizes him. What I can’t figure out is why he would come back after all this time. Why now?”
“Why not?” Clay countered.
Boone weighed the two questions before leveling a stare at his deputy. “Have you felt anything?”
“Nothing that points directly to Ike. But I can’t help thinking that if Ike was behind this, we’d all know it.”
All they did know was that Ike—for whatever reason—had walked away from his proverbial “baby”—his super gang and a very lucrative group that he’d controlled and profited from for a very long time. It made sense that one day he would try to return.
Especially now that they were all business partners again. Maybe he sensed that they were all back together and involved in Tombstone. Maybe he wanted his own piece. Maybe he wanted to regain his control and call the shots once again.
Like hell.
They were all free now. Equals. No way would they allow Ike to swoop in and take over.
Which could be exactly why he’d come in the dead of night, to pick them off one by one and keep the town all for himself.
Suddenly, it made more sense than he cared to admit. The realization sent a burst of raw anger through him and every muscle in his body went tight. While he would never forgive Ike for turning him, he had come to respect the vampire for at least trying to right his wrong by finally releasing them.
No more.
Boone had had his freedom snatched away once before when he’d stood on those gallows, and he didn’t intend to let it happen a second time. He’d go to his final grave before he let Ike take control of him again.
“I do have some news, though.” Clay’s voice pushed into his head. “I think we might have a clue. Frannie had a fight with Merle and kicked him out.”
Frannie and Merle were two of their human employees. They lived together off and on and had a reputation for getting good and lathered-up mad at each other. “What does that have to do with our current situation?”
“She kicked him out, but then she changed her mind and went looking for him like she always does. She was walking in the alley between the hotel and livery stable when she found this.” He held up a yellowed piece of paper. “Frannie took it to Seth, wanting to know if we were starting up a new show for the guests. You know, something like ‘Sweet Songbird Goes Bad’. Because everyone in town thinks Maddie Reed is damn near a saint with that voice of hers.” He handed over the paper. “If only they had known her back then.”
Boone stared at the WANTED that blazed across the top, directly over a rough sketch of Maddie, aka “Magic Fingers” Maddie Reed, the fastest pickpocket to ever work the Southwest.
“Seems like Maddie was right,” Clay continued. “Whoever was in that alley was definitely targeting her.”
“Is this real?” Boone touched the paper, but he knew even before Clay nodded that is was, indeed, a relic from the past. Proof that the Tombstone Ten h
ad lived and breathed and raised more than their fair share of hell back then.
“It’s real, all right,” Clay said.
All the more reason to suspect Ike.
They’d all fought off their fair share of killers eager to purge the world of vampires. Most of them were religious fanatics. A few held grudges. Some were just obsessed with the Twilight movies and wanted to prove their superiority by taking out the real deal. Regardless, they were a pain in the ass and easily snuffed out. But not this guy. He’d managed to slip in and out of town almost completely undetected. A vampire town.
He was good. Careful. Deadly. Old.
“I need to find a sketch of Ike to show Riley. We need to know who we’re after.”
“You mean who’s after us,” Clay added. The comment hung between them for a long moment before the deputy glanced at his watch. “So how’s the girlfriend? Is she locked down tight for the day?”
Too tight. The words whispered through Boone and he felt Riley’s anxiety as she tried to distract herself from her captivity. His skin itched and his heartbeat kicked up a notch, and guilt spiraled through him. “Tight enough.”
“Good. Then we’d better hit the hay. It’ll be sunup soon.”
“Yes, boss,” Boone drawled.
“That’s my line. Sheriff.” He pointed to Boone’s badge. “Deputy.” He pointed to his own. “You’re one step higher on the food chain, but don’t think I can’t still kick your ass if provoked.”
A grin twitched at Boone’s lips, but in the end, he was just too damned stressed and tired to smile. He held up the “wanted” poster. “I’ll hold onto this. Maybe I can figure out when and where it originated. That might tell us something about who we’re dealing with.”
And maybe it wouldn’t.
The poster could be just a coincidence.
That’s what Boone wanted to think. That everything that had happened was a random attack. That it had just been a hungry vampire who’d happened upon their town and attacked poor Kit. That the “wanted” poster wasn’t really a blast from the past.
If only.
He massaged the base of his neck where the stiffness had set in. Exhaustion tugged at his muscles and dulled his sharp senses just enough for him to notice. His vision wasn’t as fine-tuned, and his hearing wasn’t picking up the usual buzz of insects or the howl of the occasional coyote. Christ, he needed some sleep.
But Riley’s anxiety still grated on his nerves, feeding his impatience, and so he walked into the adjoining room. He had a good fifteen minutes before he needed to head over to the hotel and call it a day, and so he sank down in front of the state-of-the-art computer system.
In a matter of seconds, he was busy searching the Internet for clues about the “wanted” poster. He wasn’t going to waste a second.
He couldn’t.
Not if he wanted to keep them all safe.
Not if he wanted to keep her safe.
Riley’s image whispered through his head again, and his groin tightened. Just thinking about her made him hard. But there was something else. Something fierce and protective that flowed through his veins, making him that much more anxious.
Because she was his guest.
That was the only reason the anxiety was eating a hole through him right now. He was worried about his livelihood. His business.
Losing a guest would surely drop their rating on ExtremeVacations.com.
That was the only reason he was in such a hurry to head back to the cave and make sure she was safe.
Safe, mind you. Not comfortable. Who cared if sleeping on a bedroll might cramp her back? Or if the solitude drove her stir-crazy? He was through going out of his way to show her any sort of hospitality.
Girlfriend?
Clay’s voice echoed in his head and he stiffened.
Riley Davenport was not his girlfriend. And he wasn’t her boyfriend. And he sure as hell wasn’t bringing her any more donuts.
HE BROUGHT HER Twinkies.
Boone arrived a few hours after sunset the next night with a large picnic basket full of food from the hotel and a box of her favorite store-bought snack cakes. He wore a black button-down shirt, black jeans, and a pair of dusty cowboy boots. He looked as sexy as ever, which made Riley want those Twinkies that much more.
A brief encounter with Big Bubba had only managed to work her into an unsatisfied frenzy, because six inches of rubber was a sad substitute for the hot, hunky cowboy standing right in front of her.
No, the vibrator had been a bad idea, and the Twinkies weren’t helping either.
The scent of sugar teased her nostrils and she willed her stomach not to grumble. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she managed to say after clearing her suddenly dry throat. “I hate Twinkies.”
He gave her a knowing look, his green eyes gleaming. “No, you don’t.”
“Okay, so I like Twinkies.” She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I’m eating them.” She tossed the box in the corner next to the now empty donut box.
Okay, so she ate them. No stressed-out girl would pass on a Krispy Kreme.
Not that he knew that. As far as he could tell, she’d abandoned the box just like she was turning her back on the Twinkies.
At least that’s what she told herself. He knew too much already. It didn’t seem fair that he should know everything about her while she knew only bits and pieces about him.
Still, what she did know was fair warning that she should tread carefully. He was a bona fide bad guy. An outlaw. A vampire.
She’d reminded herself of that more than once during the day when she’d found herself wishing she had a mirror. And a little makeup. And a change of clothes.
Hello? Can you hear yourself? You’re his prisoner, not his date.
She wanted to remember that all-important fact, but he wasn’t helping any by being so freakin’ nice.
“So what’s going on?” She paced the small area, her anxiety getting the best of her, her nerves jumpy after being cooped up for so long. “Did my description help?”
“Not yet, but I think it might.” He set the picnic basket near the other supplies and grabbed a few nearby pieces of wood to stoke the fire. “I’ve got a hunch about who it might be. I’m doing some research. When I come up with a viable picture of some sort, I’ll have you take a look. We can rule out one suspect at the very least.”
“Ike McCoy?” He nodded, and she added, “And what if it is him?”
“Then we’re all in deep shit.” His gaze met hers. “Ike is our maker. He’s older. More powerful. I was his first turn, so I would stand the best chance against him. But there are no guarantees. He could strike me down just like that and move on to the next.”
Which meant Boone needed to be at full strength to stand up to his maker.
He needed blood and sex.
He needed her.
The thought rolled through her head—his thought. And she knew he was still every bit as attracted to her as she was to him.
You’re just a Happy Meal, sister.
Maybe, but regardless of the reason, the sexual tension was at an all-time high. Her nerves vibrated and her knees trembled and her nipples pebbled.
Suddenly desperate for some fresh air, she walked to the open mouth of the cave and stopped just an inch shy of the edge.
Where she’d only speculated about the exact location of her hidey hole, now she could see for herself. Lights twinkled in the distance and she knew it was Tombstone that sat to the far north. The opening dropped straight down a good twenty feet onto a ledge covered with cactus and brush, before giving way to another steep plunge. There was nothing to cushion her fall should she decide to take her chances and jump.
“Don’t even think about it.” His deep voice sounded directly behind her, startling her. Sh
e jumped and grasped at the nearest rock to keep from tumbling forward.
A useless effort.
He was right there, behind her, surrounding her. One arm anchored around her waist, pulling her firmly back against him, while the other touched her arm, sliding up over her shoulder, under her hair, to linger at the tender flesh at the back of her neck. “You need to be careful.”
“I was doing just fine until you scared the crap out of me.”
Until he’d walked into her life and screwed up her priorities. Now, she was fantasizing about kissing him and touching him and riding him instead of figuring a way out.
That wouldn’t be such a good idea.
His voice whispered through her head and she stiffened. He obviously wasn’t half as anxious for a repeat of their night together.
Because he wasn’t half as attracted to her as she was to him.
Just as the thought struck, he turned her in his arms and forced her to look up at him. His eyes blazed a fierce, blinding purple, and suddenly she knew the truth.
There wouldn’t be a repeat of the night before because he’d been holding back, and Boone Jarrett wasn’t a hold-back kind of guy. He’d managed to keep himself in check, but it wouldn’t happen again. When he touched her again, if he touched her again, he would be the one in charge, taking what he wanted at his own pace, and she would be at his complete mercy.
She didn’t trust him enough to let that happen.
She didn’t trust any man. Or vampire.
Especially a vampire.
He released her then, and in the blink of an eye, he stood several yards away.
The fire flickered behind him, outlining his powerful frame, making him seem taller, more imposing. His eyes glittered with an intensity that sucked the air from her lungs and made her heart beat that much faster.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said as he leaned down to unload the picnic basket, his movements quick and precise, proof that he couldn’t wait to be done so that he could get the hell out of Dodge. “There’s plenty of food here until then.”
The Quick and the Undead: Volume 1 (Tombstone, Texas) Page 13