He was deciding whether to invite himself over to her place or invite her to his when he spotted her coming down the steps that led up to his apartment. She was carrying a cardboard box and keeping her gaze down, so she could walk as fast as possible on the ice-covered steps.
“Hey,” he said when she nearly slammed into him.
She stopped short, looked up but did not smile. “Oh, hey.”
The sleeve of her favorite sweater hung down the side of the box. Other things visible in the box included an old pair of sweatpants and a pile of books. And her favorite coffee mug—the one she always drank out of first thing in the morning when she spent the night.
So it was like that.
He’d made a mistake, thinking she was over what’d happened. Hayden opened his mouth to apologize, again, for what he’d pulled her into, but a voice from behind stopped him short.
“Yo, Hayden.”
A shiver ran up Hayden’s spine as Matthew brushed past him, making a point to shove him off balance with his bony shoulder.
Rachelle’s gaze darted from the stuff in the box to Hayden’s face to Matthew and then back to Hayden. “I’m— I—”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it, Hayden?” Matthew said, standing beside Rachelle.
“Shut up,” Hayden replied. As soon as the words were out of mouth he took a step back, out of Matthew’s quick reach. Then, to Rachelle, he added, “Are you going somewhere with him?”
She shrugged but didn’t smile. “Semester’s over, I can just hang out for a while. So, yeah, I am.”
He couldn’t help staring into the box. “Why?”
“I want to.” Her hair got caught in the wind and she reached up to brush it from her face.
Hayden reeled, his stomach tensed and then rolled. “You’re going back to the camp?”
“Yeah.” She shifted the box so it sat on her hip, creating a barrier between her and Hayden. “It’s cool. They like me.”
Matthew put his hand on Rachelle’s back and guided her down the steps.
When Rachelle reached the sidewalk, she turned and spoke softly to Hayden, as though she was hoping Matthew wouldn’t hear her last words. “I know about the tea, Hayden. Mattie told me. She told me everything.”
Matthew stopped short, his head pivoting slowly as he sought out Hayden’s gaze. “You’re the one Mattie didn’t tell everything. Starting with who she thought was going to replace you.” Matthew kissed Rachelle on the side of the face. She smiled. It was a smile Hayden recognized, the same smile she’d turned on him many times.
“Rachelle, you don’t remember what happened there.”
She blinked, and he knew he was right.
“Fuck off, Hayden.”
Together they reached a truck parked by the curb. The battered green Chevy was parked between a black Audi A4 and a sleek Mercedes wagon. Matthew took the box from Rachelle, put it in the truck bed, dug around for something then came back with a coil of rope and a thermos. Rachelle drank what was offered to her and then lifted her hands, putting her wrists together to make it easier for him to bind them. He tied the knot efficiently. She climbed into the truck cab, used both hands to slam the door, and then stared straight ahead.
The effects of the tea were quick, and she was probably already feeling them. At least that was the reason Hayden clung to for her not taking one last look at him.
Mattie hadn’t lied to him. Rachelle was free to do as she wanted. Obviously, Hayden hadn’t had any idea what his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—actually wanted.
Matthew leaned past Rachelle and turned to look out the passenger window. Hayden saw the man’s face but not his eyes because Matthew’s chin was lifted upward, his gaze fixed high above. He stayed that way, staring, his body stiff as though he was waiting for something. Finally, he gave up waiting and jerked his head around, started the truck, and hit the gas. The engine rumbled and the tires rolled across the packed snow.
Hayden turned and lifted his head, looking for whatever was worthy of Matthew’s time and attention. The doorway of the brownstone was empty, the steps clear. Even though it was dark outside, it wasn’t that late, so most of the windows of the building were yellow with light. There was nothing unusual there, except a long narrow shadow on the roof. It wasn’t a shadow, Hayden realized. It was her, lying across the steep roof, her long legs stretched out behind her, her body still and stiff with cold, her eyes growing green.
About Isabelle Drake
Thrill-seeking risk takers, heroes with a dark past, sexy locales, untamed women! Isabelle Drake writes stories featuring men and women who aren’t afraid to go after what they want. An avid traveler, she’ll go just about anywhere—at least once—to meet people and get story ideas.
Isabelle welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Servicing the Undead
ISBN 9781419942303
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Servicing the Undead Copyright © 2012 Isabelle Drake
Edited by Shannon Combs
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
Photo: Margarita Borodina/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication November 2012
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