Bite Me (The Transfigured Ones Book 2)

by Michelle Roth

  “You were hand-picked for my bar,” Lilly admitted. “I would have bugged you unmercifully if you'd turned me down. If that didn't work, I was going to throw money at you. You were wasting away in the sports bar.”

  “I didn't realize it was a negotiation. I would have tried to weasel a unit into my contract like Magnus. Or at least use of the upstairs oasis.”

  “He's a shrewd negotiator,” Lilly conceded, clearing her throat. “And while we're on the subject... I know it's not any of my business, what's going on between you and Magnus. Being with someone who's Transfigured is a little bit complicated. If you ever want to talk, I've been where you are. I'd be happy to listen.”

  Caroline opened her mouth to tell Lilly that this was just casual, but then she realized that it didn't exactly feel that way. It was definitely early, but she didn't exactly feel like Magnus was strictly trying to get into her pants. He could have done it with ease the other night, yet he'd kept his promise.

  So, instead of making any sort of denial, Caroline merely said, “It's early yet, but I might take you up on it if things get more serious.”

  “My door is always open,” Lilly answered, giving her a slightly sympathetic look.

  ****

  Caroline double-checked the items in her bag. Shaker, Gin, Chambord, fresh squeezed orange juice, lime juice. She went down the list, mentally going over the ingredients for each of the three drinks she'd be preparing tonight. Satisfied, she nodded.

  Pulling the phone out of the front pocket of her messenger bag, she realized it was time to leave if she wanted to make it to Magnus's place on time. And god knew, she wanted to be on time. He was incredibly fussy about his food.

  When the phone began to vibrate in her hand, she looked down at the screen again and groaned. Seeing her mother's face, she winced. She thought she had dodged a bullet when her mother hadn't called her yesterday. Apparently not. Taking a calming breath, she braced herself.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “Caroline. It's your mother.”

  “Hey Mom! You caught me just as I was walking out the door. I've been working with a new pairing menu with the head chef. I'm on my way to a work meeting,” she explained.

  “Now? It's nearly seven o'clock! I wish you'd quit working at the bar and get a real job, honey. You finally managed to get your degree and it's just going to waste. You—”

  Jesus. Caroline rolled her eyes. She had managed to finally get her degree about six years ago. She was managing a bar. Which, last time she checked, was a business. It seemed like a perfectly appropriate use of her degree in business management. God help her if she said that, though.

  “I'm happy where I'm at, Mom.”

  Her mother gave a long drawn out sigh and then urged, “Come home. Your father can get you a decent job. You can move out of your tiny little apartment and back in with us until you get on your feet. You can do so much better. You're working for those... people.”

  And here it went again. For all that they claimed to be liberal, her parents seemed to have a big problem with the fact that she worked for and with the Transfigured. Caroline couldn't even imagine what her mother would say if she knew that she was dating one of them.

  She supposed that she and Magnus were dating. Or, effectively, tonight would be their first date. Sort of. Technically, he had invited her over to his place so they could finish the pairing menu. The fact that he'd invited her over as he was kissing her neck seemed pretty promising though.

  “Caroline? Are you even listening to what I'm saying?”

  “I'm sorry, Mom. You're cutting out,” Caroline lied smoothly. “Can you repeat?”

  Her mother sighed loudly, then enunciated her words very slowly and loudly. “Are you still coming to the party in two weeks? I'm planning a tea party theme. She'll love it!”

  No she won't, Caroline thought. She's going to hate the fuss but that never stopped you.

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “Yes. I told you I'd be there. It's Nana's birthday.”

  “Don't forget. She's not getting any younger.”

  “I know, Mom. I said I'd be there. But, I really have to run now. I'm going to be late for my meeting. Give Dad my best.”

  Quickly, before her mother could comment further, she hung up. It was small of her, but she really didn't give a damn at this point. She'd been bitched at for her life choices for as long as they'd been hers to make. She never asked for money, or help. She wasn't on drugs and hadn't ever been arrested. She successfully lived on her own and managed to pay her bills. Her parents were just never going to be satisfied.

  Caroline shook off her suddenly dark mood and gathered her bag. She wasn't going to invest any more time into feeling like shit about their disappointment in her. Having done it her whole life, it was getting old. So, instead, she gave herself one last look in the mirror, and then locked up. There was no way she was letting anything ruin this night.

  Chapter Five

  Magnus glanced at the clock as he stirred the raspberry gastrique, then set it aside to cool. He surveyed the kitchen and decided he'd done all of the prep that he could do. Now that he was able to spend an entire evening with Caroline, he didn't want to waste it in the kitchen.

  Glancing up at the clock, he cracked the oven to get a look at the venison loin. Perfect. He'd wrapped it in caul fat to keep it juicy during the cooking process. It would be able to rest for a few minutes before they ate. The duck breasts he'd done up were already resting under some tented foil. That left the Croque Monsieur, the palate cleansing orange granita, the osso buco, and the Gorgonzola stuffed figs wrapped in prosciutto.

  He wiped down the counter for the third time, and then acknowledged that he was a little bit nervous. He'd definitely done his fair share of dating, but in the past decade it had waned off quite a bit while he focused on his career. The busier he got, the more particular he became about who he wanted to spend his down time with.

  Magnus grinned when he heard the knock on his door. Wiping his hands on a towel, he hurried over to open the door. He let his eyes drift over her, taking in the pink dress she wore. It tied around her neck and gave him an enticing view of her legs. Much more than he'd seen before. “Caroline,” he said, his heart pounding. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks.” She studied him for a moment before she continued, “I don't think I've ever seen you this relaxed. It... it looks good on you.”

  “Why thank you, love. Sorry. Where are my manners? Can I take that for you? It looks a bit heavy.”

  A grateful look on her face, as she passed a large canvas bag over to him. She warned, “It is. Thanks.”

  “Come in. Come in,” he said, gesturing to the living room. “What did you bring me? Bricks? A set of encyclopedias?”

  As she passed him, he pressed a hand to the lower part of her back, steering her gently. When she leaned into his touch, a part of him wanted to say to hell with dinner and drag her into the bedroom. He could tell by the way that she nervously chewed on her lower lip that she was still uncertain though.

  “I could only fit volumes A through F in the bag. Sorry,” she apologized, rolling her eyes. “I brought the fixings for the drinks to accompany whatever you're skillfully preparing in the kitchen. By the way, it smells amazing”

  “Of course it does.”

  “Jeez,” Caroline complained with a comically exaggerated frown. “I really wish you'd learn how to take a compliment, Magnus. You're too modest!”

  His lips twitching, he set the bag down on the counter top and turned to face her again. His voice solemn, he informed her, “I am but a humble vessel for my art.”

  “Humble?”

  After a moment, his grin now full on, he conceded, “Perhaps humble is a small stretch.”

  “A bit of a reach,” she agreed, laughing.

  He eyed her for a moment and then closed the space between them. “Let me greet you properly now that I don't have my hands full of reference materials, love.”

  She stare
d at him speculatively and asked, “Properly? And what exactly does that entail?”

  In response, he cupped her cheeks gently and brushed his mouth against hers. Once, then again, before his lips cling to hers in a slow, sumptuous kiss. He let his fingertips trace over the exposed skin between her shoulder blades. Had he ever touched anything so soft?

  The loud buzzing of the oven interrupted them. He ignored it for a moment until Caroline backed away from him and asked, “Do you need to get that?”

  “Sadly, yes,” he groaned, releasing her. “The venison will dry out.”

  “We can't have that,” she teased. “Should I start on the drinks?”

  ****

  Magnus made a few mental notes as they went through the courses. Slight adjustments to seasoning and plating. Overall the flavor combinations were outstanding. He sipped at the gin, lavender and tea concoction again. “Christ, this is good. I don't even care that it's vaguely purple.”

  “I think the pairing menu is going to work really well. Everything was so good.” She gestured at the remnants of the meal.

  He watched her set her napkin aside, then asked, “Anything you'd change?”

  “About my drinks? Nope.”

  “About the meal,” he asked, smirking. “Smart ass.”

  A teasing grin on her face, she said, “I don't know if I'm ready to have this conversation with you, Magnus. I'm pretty sure you made one of the line cooks cry about some seared mushrooms the other day. I may be a little bit too emotionally fragile.”

  “That wasn't even about the mushrooms. Jimmy deliberately ignores my instructions and does whatever he bloody wants. That's why I yelled. He can have creative license with the dishes when he has his own kitchen,” he explained. “I can tell from the way you mix your drinks that you have a clear understanding of what goes well together. So tell me your thoughts.”

  Caroline sighed and said, “The raspberry stuff needed some salt. There was too much tarragon on the vegetables.” She chewed on her lip, obviously worried that she'd offended him.

  “I went overboard on the tarragon. Hindsight. I don't know about the salt, though,” he said, rising from the table. He grabbed a small saucer, added a medallion of venison loin, the gastrique, then salted it liberally. When he returned to the table, he set it down in between them. “Let's find out, shall we?”

  Silently, he cut a small piece from the medallion and dabbed it in the sauce. He held the fork out and watched her lean forward. There was something incredibly intimate about the gesture. It felt oddly right, though.

  Perhaps she felt it too, because she reached out once he'd taken a bite of his own. He twined his fingers through hers as he chewed thoughtfully. Once he had swallowed, he said, “Good call. Salt helped.” After a long pause, his voice heavy with disbelief, he asked, “Did he really bloody cry?”

  She gave a nod in the affirmative. “Like a baby. But don't feel too bad about it. He was calling you an asshole in the same breath. I think he might have missed the point of your lesson entirely.”

  “That little prat. Perhaps I'll have another talk with him about it,” he said shrugging it off. He wasn't in the business of making friends. Still, he didn't like to come across as a bully.

  Disentangling her hand from his, she leaned back in her chair and sighed. “This was all fantastic, Magnus. I'm glad we split this into multiple sittings. Otherwise, I think I'd be in a food coma right now.”

  Before he could stop himself, he murmured, “I forget what that feels like.”

  “Really?” she asked him, curiosity written across her expressive face.

  “It's been years since the change happened, so yeah. I don't get colds or the flu. No food comas. No sunburn. No hay fever.”

  “That doesn't seem like such a bad deal,” Caroline reasoned. “I'm sure there's some things you probably miss, though, right?”

  “I don't dream. That's really the big thing that I miss. When I go to sleep, the world just goes dark. I haven't dreamt in almost forty years.”

  He didn't even realize she'd reached out again until she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She considered him for a moment and then said, “It's hard to remember you're almost seventy. You look so young.” A moment later, humor written across her features she added, “I guess it's a good thing I've always liked older men.”

  The mood considerably lightened by her comment, he asked, “Always?”

  “Well. This is the most extreme case so far.”

  “So far?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Does this mean I'm just a stopping over point to your real goal of dating an octogenarian?”

  Caroline gave a mock wince and dramatically cried, “You've discovered my secret, Magnus. I never wanted you to find out this way!”

  “Well, love. If I'm only being used, then let's not waste time at the table,” he announced, his lips twitching. At her dry look, he added, “I'll give you the grand tour.”

  “What about the dishes?” she asked, looking at the several courses of plates currently stacked up on the counter.

  “You make an excellent point. That gastrique will be a bloody bear to clean up later. Just have a seat. I'll only be a minute,” he said, gathering the few plates on the table.

  Instead of listening, she followed him into the kitchen and began stacking dishes into the dishwasher. Within a few minutes, everything back to rights in his kitchen again, he asked, “Tour?”

  “Sure. But, um. I was just wondering. Are you going to actually eat?” she asked, rinsing her hands.

  “I ate before you got here,” he admitted. “I didn't really know how you'd feel about it.”

  “It doesn't bother me. We've served blood in virtually every bar I've ever worked in.”

  “You're a bit rare, then. Most people tend to keep their distance whenever the subject of my food intake comes up.”

  “Don't get me wrong. I'm not asking you to pour me a glass or anything, but it's a biological necessity, right?”

  He nodded, uncertain where she was headed.

  “Then there's not really any reason for me to be upset about it unless you're hurting people.”

  Magnus frowned. “I don—”

  “If I thought for a second you were, do you think I would be here alone with you? Do you think I would want you like I do?” she asked, interrupting him. Her usual quick grin was missing. In its place, there was an unfamiliar vulnerability.

  For all that he enjoyed her sassy attitude, he was certain she'd never been more beautiful than she was in that moment. He tilted her chin up, and lowered his mouth so that it nearly grazed hers. “No. I don't suppose you would.”

  Chapter Six

  At the first brush of his mouth against hers, Caroline melted against him. She'd been nervous when she arrived, but thankfully the cocktails had relaxed her. She wasn't exactly a virgin, but somehow this felt like uncharted territory to her.

  Magnus quickly escalated the kiss, sweeping his tongue across her lips until she parted them. His fingers threaded in her hair as he began to plunder her mouth, no longer holding back. Her arousal slowly hummed to life.

  She moaned against his mouth, her hands clutching at his t-shirt as the kiss raged out of control. Where his kisses had been sensual and restrained before, these had a slight edge to them. He seemed to be reminding her with every nibble of his teeth, every sweep of his tongue, that underneath all of that dry wit, he was still a hot-blooded male.

  The press of his hand against her upper back felt like a brand against her skin. He had barely touched her but she felt ready to burst into flames. Caroline hadn't ever felt so utterly possessed by a kiss before.

  By the time that Magnus backed away, they were both panting for air. He gently rested his forehead against her bare shoulder. “Let's see about that tour,” he commented, slightly winded.

  “Only if it ends in your bedroom,” she answered, all previous signs of nerves gone. Caroline had never wanted anyone like she wanted Magnus. And tonight, she would have him.
<
br />   She felt him freeze against her shoulder, and then lift his head. His eyes blazing, he said, “This is the kitchen.”

  She grinned and said, “It's a lovely kitchen.” When he whirled her around, wrapping his arms around her hips, she moaned at the feel of his erection against her lower back.

  He gently propelled her toward the semi-dark hallway and continued, “The dining room and living room.”

  She barely gave it a glance, then nodded. “Very stylishly decorated.”

  He leaned down, grazing his mouth against her shoulder, his stubble dragging across her skin lightly. “Down the hall.”

  She guided them toward the dark hallway as his mouth roamed the bare skin of her shoulder and neck. Thank god she had gone with the halter dress because his mouth felt like pure heaven against her skin. She didn't bother to hold back the soft groan when he nipped at her neck.

  When they reached the entrance of the hallway, his hand slapped out blindly at the wall until light flooded the previously dark space. Caroline was surprised to see that there were several rooms. She turned curiously toward the first one.

  Raising his lips from her shoulder, he said, “The library. I'll be sure to clear a shelf for those encyclopedias you brought.”

  In spite of the fact she was ready to crawl all over him, she laughed. “Do you really have enough books to call it a library?”

  Magnus responded by pushing the door open. Even in the dim light, she could make out wall-to-wall shelves.

  “Holy shit,” she murmured as she continued to take it all in. “This is an amazing amount of books for one person to own!”

  Magnus was silent, fully intent on tracing his tongue along the shell of her ear. “Christ, Caroline. Your skin is so soft,” he murmured.