by Jane Jamison
Shit. I should’ve known. He’s fucking with me.
At once, his transformation receded, returning him to normal. “You’re an asshole. A sanctimonious, know-it-all, bloodsucking asshole.”
Evan broke out into a raucous laugh. “Hey, I don’t have to suck blood to survive. There are always blood banks. Still, I do prefer fresh to refrigerated.”
“Damn, you two are fucked up.” Derek gave his cousin and brother a hard look. “I can’t believe I’m the one getting all serious, but don’t you think it’s time we speed up the plan? Emeline’s been here long enough. It’s time we stake our claim.”
They didn’t officially have to claim her as their own. Everyone around town, except maybe Emeline, knew they wanted her. They were surprised one of her friends hadn’t already told her. If they had, she hadn’t believed them.
Tyler laughed, cutting the tension. “You might be right. I sure as hell picked up the sweet smell of her heat. She wants us, all right. At least as a good fuck. But as more? We don’t know for sure.”
“Then we find out.” Evan put his horse into a canter, breaking past Triumph. Tyler and Derek had to catch up to him.
“How? Just tell her what we want?” Tyler figured that was as good a way as any. By now, he didn’t care how they told her as long as they did.
“And then tell her what we are? Think she handle all of it at the same time?” asked Derek.
“Coming at her hard isn’t the way to go. But we do need to step it up. Let’s ask her out. Let’s show her that we’re interested in being more than friends.” Evan tugged his horse to a stop.
Tyler and Derek pulled their horses to a stop. “How do we go about it?”
“We take her on a picnic.”
“A picnic?” Had his cousin lost his mind? “You do know most picnics happen during the day, right? Usually when it’s nice and warm and the sun is shining?”
“He’s right, Evan. You’d burn up like that egg in the this-is-your-brain-on-drugs public service commercial,” added Derek.
Evan arched one eyebrow. “We don’t burn. We get sick. But never mind. Since you’re so concerned for my welfare, we’ll do the picnic at midnight.”
Now he knew his cousin had lost it. “At midnight? Who the hell goes for a picnic at midnight?”
Evan’s dark gaze struck him. “Vampires do.”
“Fine. A midnight picnic. Yeah. I can see it.” Betsy just might like it. If nothing else, it would be different.
“What if she doesn’t want to go?” Derek shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ is all. She might say no.”
Evan laughed again, but the laugh turned into a scowl as the sun broke through the dark clouds. He pulled her hat lower and rolled down his sleeves. Work gloves covered his hands. “Then we kidnap her.”
* * * *
Emeline loved taking care of Miss Charlotte. She wasn’t a nurse by any means, but the elderly woman didn’t expect her to monitor her health. In fact, other than showing the usual signs of growing older, like difficulty moving quickly, the old girl was doing better physically than Emeline could hope she would at the same age. Miss Charlotte’s problem was dementia. She often forgot who Emeline was, but once Emeline reminded her, she’d remember and be fine again.
Emeline studied Miss Charlotte as she moved around the kitchen preparing her nightly cup of tea. The sweet, yet sometimes irascible, elderly woman often stayed up late at night, complaining that she couldn’t “go out and run” like she used to do when she was younger. Emeline assumed that the old woman had been wilder in her younger days and had frequented bars and clubs. Still, every once in a while, Miss Charlotte would tell her a story about “packs” and “alphas” that sounded like mythical tales. No doubt it was a symptom of her progressing mental disease, but Emeline didn’t mind hearing them. In fact, the stories were entertaining, sometimes exhilarating.
“Miss Charlotte, are you sure you don’t want me to fix your tea?”
Her wrinkled hand, dotted with age spots, waved in the air. “Shoot, no. You never make it strong enough. Now hush and let me think. Do I like sugar in my tea? Maybe honey? How about a little whiskey? That sounds right.”
“Yes, ma’am. You use a smidge of sugar. Just don’t use too much.” Although Miss Charlotte’s doctor, Dr. Brown, had never said anything about restricting the older woman’s diet, Emeline couldn’t help but try. She’d never seen anyone put away as much red meat and sugar as Miss Charlotte. Red meat that was usually undercooked to the point of being rare enough to moo. As far as the whiskey went, Emeline couldn’t see the harm in letting her add a drop or two at night. It probably helped her sleep.
“I know what I’m doing, honey.” Miss Charlotte nodded, her full head of white hair shining under the kitchen’s overhead light.
Of course you do. Yet the truth was Miss Charlotte usually did know exactly what she was doing. Which made her “bad” days painful to endure.
“How’s your friend doing?” Miss Charlotte carefully carried her full cup of tea to the table to join Emeline. She hadn’t bothered asking Emeline if she wanted any tea because she knew Emeline didn’t like tea.
“My friend?” She tried not to be too obvious as she studied the older woman. Today had turned out to be one of the “bad” days, but at least there had been a few moments of lucidity.
“You know who I mean. Don’t go trying to fool me.” Miss Charlotte winked conspiratorially, her oval face beautiful even with all the wrinkles. Her hazel eyes sparkled with a glint of strength that defied her age.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t. Are you talking about Raven or Heather? Or maybe Betsy? She’s the one opening up the new clothing boutique.” How many times had she mentioned Betsy and her new Classy Cat store? Yet, although Miss Charlotte would remember once she reminded her, she always forgot later.
“No, not them. The vampire. You know. The handsome one that was watching us the other day.”
She’d taken Miss Charlotte for a rare outing even if it had only been to Gobbel’s Market. As they were leaving, she’d seen Evan standing in the shadows across the street. But why would the elderly woman think he was a vampire? The mind was a complex and mystical organ, but even with Miss Charlotte’s fascination with supernatural creatures in her stories, sometimes the old woman’s ideas came out of nowhere.
“Are you talking about Evan Grange? He’s not a vampire.” She bit her lower lip, determined not to laugh. She wouldn’t be that cruel.
Miss Charlotte eyed her hard. “Sure he is. I know one when I see one. Though, from what I’ve heard, he’s all right. Especially since he’s the Mitchell boys’ cousin. Still, you’d better watch your step. The way he was looking at you? He wanted to eat you up. You’d best be careful around him. At least until you know you can trust him.”
Emeline remembered how Evan looked. So dark, so mysterious. Yet she’d chalked it up to her imagination. That and the fact that he did seem to like hanging around in the shadows.
“Okay. I’ll be careful.”
What am I thinking? She’s got my imagination running wild now.
A cowboy vampire in the hills of Georgia. That was something she hadn’t heard before. “What about his cousins? I mean, what do you think about Tyler and Derek?”
The way Miss Charlotte’s mind was working tonight, Emeline wouldn’t believe most, if any, of what she told her, but it was fun talking about them. God knew she thought about them often enough. Probably too much for her own good.
“Are you talking about the Mitchell boys?”
“Right. Derek and Tyler. What do you know about them?”
Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. Not only couldn’t she believe whatever Miss Charlotte told her but she also might be feeding into the poor woman’s mental decline. “Never mind. Let’s talk about something else.”
“I like those boys. They’re good, honest men who work hard.” One bushy white eyebrow shot up. “A girl could do a whole lot worse than them, you know. Even if their cousin is a vamp
ire.”
Oh, hell. Back to the vampire thing.
“Good to know.” She was about to suggest that they talk about Miss Charlotte’s favorite prime time show, San Diego Doctors, when a knock on the front door interrupted her. She glanced at the round metal clock hanging on the wall above the ancient lime green refrigerator. The entire house was locked into the 1950s. “Are you expecting company? Who could that be at this time of night?”
“Beats me. Whoever it is, ask them if they have any hooch.”
Miss Charlotte slipped farther down the rabbit hole. Why would anyone bring alcohol to the old lady? “Will do, but then it’s off to bed for you.”
“What? At this early hour?”
“It’s almost midnight.” Like a lot of people in the South, Emeline followed the rule about nines. Unless it was an emergency, it was considered rude to visit anyone before nine in the morning or after nine at night. She rose to her feet and started through the attached living room with its worn flowery furniture.
“Shoot. That’s not late. Most of us don’t go running until the moon’s high in the sky.”
Now she’s out jogging with other people in the middle of the night. What crazy story will she tell next?
If there’d been a peephole in the door, she would’ve checked it. Yet as far as she knew, Fate had never had a break-in. In fact, most of the people left their home unlocked and their vehicle with the key in the ignition. What trouble they had was handled by Drake Hardwick, his brothers, and a few others who seemed to stick together closer than other people in town. The lack of crime was a major change from Dallas where she’d live before moving to Fate. Then again, she’d gone through a lot of major changes since then.
She hesitated as her hand rested on the doorknob. Her stomach tightened as it always did whenever she thought about her past. What would Miss Charlotte and her friends think if they knew why she’d come to Fate? Or that she wasn’t who she said she was?
They never need to know. The person I was before is dead and gone. As far as the world is concerned, I’m Emeline Newsom.
She’d managed to put on a smile by the time she opened the door. “Derek? Tyler? What are you guys doing here at this time of the night?” A movement off to the side caught her attention. “Evan?”
“Hi, Emeline.” Derek gave her a killer smile. “We came to surprise you.”
“O-kay. And you sure did. Do you know what time it is?” She frowned. Not in a bad way. They could break the rule of nine anytime they wanted. Still, she had a job to do.
“Sure we do.” Tyler lifted a hand, his gaze darting behind her. “Hey, Miss Charlotte. How are you doing? We came to check in on you.”
Great. Now they’ll get her revved up, and I’ll never get her to bed.
“Hey there, boys. Come on inside.”
“No. It’s too late for a visit.” But they paid no attention to her. Derek held a couple of bottles of wine as he strode past her while Tyler carried a paper bag. Evan came in last and carried a picnic basket.
“Shoot fire, Emeline, take it easy, will you?” Miss Charlotte was all grins. “It’s never too late for friends to drop by. Best time, too, what with the full moon and all.”
“Miss Charlotte, you need your rest.” As soon as Miss Charlotte went to bed, she could go to the small cottage behind the main house that served as her living quarters. A monitoring system had been set up so that, if needed, Miss Charlotte could ring for her no matter what the hour. Getting the old lady stirred up would mean a long night.
Still, when else would she get a chance to spend time with three best-looking men she’d ever seen? So far, they’d kept her at arm’s length. Friendly, but not friendly enough. Were they finally making a move? Or were they really there to see how her ward was doing?
First Tyler, then Derek hugged Miss Charlotte then hurried into the small kitchen area. Although Evan hesitated, Miss Charlotte reached out her arms and pulled him into a big hug. He kissed her on the cheek then set the basket down on the coffee table.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” As confused as she was, she couldn’t help but smile at the way the men treated the older woman. They joked and laughed with her, bringing her joy. Miss Charlotte beamed like a young girl surrounded by suiters.
“We came to take you on a picnic, Em.”
“A picnic? Now?”
Tyler shrugged. “Sure. Why not? And you, too, Miss C.” He winked at Emeline, letting her in on his scheme. “Don’t worry. We’re not going far.”
Obviously, he didn’t think Miss Charlotte would join them. At least not for long. But Emeline knew better. Get the old girl going and she could be up for hours.
“How about some music, boys?” Showing more spring in her step than Emeline had seen in a long time, Miss Charlotte scooted in her scruffy house shoes over to the old-fashioned record player.
“Who’ve you got, Miss C?” Derek looked over one of the old-fashioned albums. “Damn. You’ve got some of the best, don’t you? Johnny Cash is great, but let’s get something on with more of a beat to it.” His huge arm slipped around the diminutive woman. “I want to dance with my favorite girl.”
Emeline’s heart skipped a beat when his gaze shifted from Miss Charlotte to her. He didn’t actually mean her, did he? He was flirting with Miss Charlotte was all. Yet, she couldn’t help but hope his true attention was all for her. After all, they hadn’t come over just to see Miss Charlotte.
“I’ve got some good stuff. Do you know how to do the two-step, boys?”
“Do we know how to do the two-step?” Tyler gently spun Miss Charlotte away from Derek. “Get the music going, man. I’m going to show this pretty lady how good I can dance.”
Miss Charlotte’s laughter rang out as Tyler eased her into a very slow version of the dance. Her face shone as she held on to his arms. Her worn housecoat flared out as he carefully spun her around again. Derek clapped with the rhythm then tapped Tyler’s shoulder and took his turn.
“You must be doing great work with her. She seems very happy.”
The scent of Evan flowed over Emeline. Like his cousins, his scent was different, earthier than most men she’d known. Yet as musky and rich as he smelled, his aroma was different from Tyler’s and Derek’s. She noticed their scents every time they met.
“Thanks, I do my best. Besides, she makes it easy.” She gazed into his dark eyes. His eyes had always seemed so deep, as though she were looking into a bottomless pit. Yet, it wasn’t a pit of emptiness. Instead, it gave her the impression that he’d seen far too much pain. “Besides, I love her. It really doesn’t feel like work.”
His gaze shifted from hers to the laughing woman in Tyler’s arms. “She’s one of the special ones. People around here adore her.”
The affection in his tone was so sincere it brought tears to her eyes.
“Are you all right, baby?”
“Baby?”
He gave her a barely-there smile. “Is it too soon for me to call you baby?”
No. Say it again. “You just caught me off guard.” She swallowed, suddenly all too aware of how close he was. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers. “Do you know Miss Charlotte thinks you’re a vampire?”
“She does, huh?” Yet he didn’t appear to be surprised.
“Uh-huh.” Before she realized it, her hand was against his chest. She stared at it as though it belonged to someone else. “But you can’t be a vampire. Those things don’t exist.”
“Those things?”
Did he always answer with a question? “You know what I mean. Supernatural beings. Monsters.”
“Are you sure vampires aren’t real?” His dark eyes sparkled. “Or that they’re monsters?”
She pressed her hand a little harder against him. He felt so…solid. “You’re playing with me. Vampires are myths. Stories people told to explain away things they couldn’t understand.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded, suddenly finding it harder t
o breathe. To think. The music played on, and she heard Miss Charlotte’s laughter mixing with that of the other two men. They felt so far away, as though she and Evan were in a special cocoon of their own making.
What were they talking about? “Besides, even if they did exist, you couldn’t be one.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re too warm. Vampires are cold, evil creatures.” Her gaze lifted to his again. “You’re not cold or evil.”
“No, I’m not. But then again, how do you know what you’ve heard about vampires is true? Maybe they’re not cold-blooded monsters. What then?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer when it felt as though he was searching for a specific answer. “Then I guess I’d have to rethink everything.”
“What about werewolves? Are those real?”
“I think we’re getting a little out there, don’t you?” She laughed and finally took her hand away from his chest—and almost put it right back on him. Lust overwhelmed her, the need leaving her dizzy.
He took hold of her arms. The dizziness stopped, but the rush of desire strengthened, leaving her weak in a different way. She glanced at his big hands and sighed as she imagined what those hands could do on other parts of her body.
He shook her a little, making her meet his dark, sultry eyes. “What would you do if you found love, baby? And what would you do if that love came in a package that wasn’t what you expected? Would you still want it? Or would the exterior mean more than what was in his heart?”
Chapter Three
Derek shifted enough to hear what Evan and Emeline were talking about and knew he had to get her away from him. They’d talked about their plan to win Emeline over which didn’t include telling her what they were tonight. Taking her arm, he tugged her away from his intense cousin and into his arms. “Dance with me, sugar.”
She looked back once at Evan before Derek could spin her around, breaking her focus on his cousin. “I don’t know how to do this kind of dance.”