by Liza Street
“What else did I say?”
“Oh, lots of stuff about being pathetic. Lonely. Listen, Fraze. I love you like a brother. And I know you. I know you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve met, and I know you’re gonna find someone. You’ll find a woman who loves you, and she’s not going to be like whatever sorry excuse for a girlfriend you had before. What did you say her name was?”
“I didn’t.” Fraze gritted his teeth.
“Yes, you did.” She gave him a winning smile. “Bella or something like that. Anyway, Bella was a dick if she said that stuff about you after sex. I’m sure you were a monster in the very best of ways.”
Fraze slid his plate away and banged his forehead on the table. “You were not supposed to be privy to any of that information.”
Viviana just laughed. “Then maybe you should stop at the third cosmo next time and call it a night before you get so wasted you’re ready to spill state secrets.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He straightened up and picked at his eggs. “Any new drama in the pride?”
She gave a dark laugh. “Always. Right now, Ben and Doug are in deep shit with the alpha.”
Fraze thought it was interesting how Viviana spoke about her mom. To Marlana’s face, Viviana called her Mother or Mom, but when talking about her to Fraze it was always the alpha or Marlana.
“What’d they do?” he asked.
“They were idiots. They let it slip at Hart’s that Nina was in Idaho—that’s how the vampires knew to find her over there. Now they’re on the alpha’s shit list.”
“No surprise there,” Fraze said. “Sorry, I shouldn’t talk about your boyfriend that way—”
“Nope, that’s over.” Viviana’s voice was soft, sad, and carried regret.
Fraze had to tread carefully. “Did Ben end it, or you?”
“He called me an ice princess.”
“You’re anything but that, V. You’ve got a warm heart, too. Good riddance—I’m glad you kicked him to the curb.”
“Yeah,” Viviana said. “I’ve gotta run. But finish your eggs, and soak up some more of that alcohol.”
“I thought we were supposed to have good metabolism,” Fraze complained. He felt like hell, even after eating half the eggs on his plate.
Viviana laughed. “We do. But when you insist on drinking that much alcohol, well, you’re gonna feel it no matter what.”
“Have you seen my phone?” he asked, getting up to walk her to the door.
“No, I haven’t.”
He’d probably left it at Hart’s, so he’d go there later and pick it up. In the meantime, he had some gravel to spread.
Viviana pecked him on the cheek. “Everything’s going to be great, trust me. You’ll find someone.”
He hugged her. “You will, too. Dumping Ben was the first step.”
She nodded and stepped out the door, and Fraze knew that whoever she dated next would be infinitely better than dickface Ben Channing.
Five
Gracie Jane never slept. She didn’t need to. Instead, she waited. Every day, she sang to herself, or read books, or doodled little pictures in her journal. Bored. Most vampires slept, and as soon as the sun came up, they were down until dusk.
Different vampires had different talents. Some of them could fly. Others could contact each other with their minds. As far as most of her court was concerned, Gracie’s talent of staying awake during the day was useless. The sun still burned her, so it wasn’t as if she could go anywhere.
Vampires like Gracie, who didn’t sleep, were cursed to stay hidden, awake, and while away the hours with other pursuits.
For Gracie, it was song and sketching. If she were to ever leave the court, she’d maybe take up something else. Like painting, or learning languages, or…she had no clue. She only knew that once night finally fell, she’d be able to leave this cabin and hunt once more.
When the sun went down, she didn’t wait for the other vampires to come out. They had boxes in the basement for resting in, and they all woke together. Sometimes Gracie was so bored after staying awake all day that she’d welcome a little conversation, but all she’d been able to think about was that shifter at the bar, the kin of Sheriff Rhees. Right now, she didn’t want to talk to any of her court.
Maybe, she thought, as she sped through the forest, she wanted to talk to him.
The forest surrounding her was crisp with nightfall, the diurnal animals tucked away and the nocturnal animals waking up, ready for foraging and hunting.
Gracie was ready for hunting, too. There were any number of places she could do it, usually in the little town of Belnedge, or sometimes she’d run farther out and sip from someone in Maxon.
Tonight she found herself drawn to Hart’s. The blood of the intoxicated was intoxicating in itself, which was something she’d welcome right now. Also, their minds were easier to wipe after she fed on them.
Her wanting to return to Hart’s had absolutely nothing to do with the little feeling inside of wanting to see that shifter again.
Nothing at all to do with him.
She slowed her run to a walk when she was closer to the tree line near Hart’s, and straightened her dress. Yes, she’d even dressed for this. It felt…maybe wrong, but maybe right, too. She wished she could figure out what she was feeling, but she was so out of touch with her emotions—she’d had to keep them hidden to survive amidst politics of first the Nocturne Court, then the Corona Court, and now again with the Nocturnes taking over.
The whole situation made her glad she kept her feelings buried.
Tonight, Saturday night, the inside of Hart’s was just as rowdy as it had been on Friday. People shouted drunkenly to one another from across tables. The jukebox blared in the corner, something techno that had half the dancers gyrating in a weird trance sort of way, and the other half of them line dancing as if it were a country western song. Some of the patrons played pool.
Gracie ordered a rum and Coke and looked for potential victims. She told herself she was looking for someone to drink from—not the Rhees guy.
But of course she saw the Rhees guy. He came in after her, his beard covering half his face. Gracie used her glass to hide her face as she looked at him. He came up to the bar and asked for a glass of water with a wedge of lime. Odd.
He said something to the bartender, and Gracie strained to hear it over all the other noise of the bar but it was impossible. Supernatural hearing or not, the noise was too much for her to make out their conversation. The bartender rummaged beneath the bar for a second, then held up a phone, which he slid across to the Rhees guy.
“Thanks,” Rhees said.
The bartender nodded, and Rhees turned around to survey the room, just like Gracie had done after she’d gotten her drink.
And this time, he saw her. His eyes locked on hers, as if daring her to look away. She wouldn’t. She was no coward. She could face down the enemy, no sweat.
He set down his glass and stalked over.
The song changed to something jazzy and country, and as Rhees walked, his hips matched the beat. She could picture him baling hay, driving steer, chopping wood. She could picture him doing everything she’d seen strong men doing. And he’d do it all with his leonine balance and poise.
Damn sexy.
The look on his face was a mixture of grouchiness and kindness. He had kind eyes—something that definitely set him apart from Sheriff Rhees. She could remember the sheriff’s face as easily as Clive’s, as easily as her own. The sheriff had been nothing but an evil stain on the frontier, and it had shown in his eyes.
This man had eyes which showed kindness. Acceptance. Trepidation, even.
“I see you,” he said, swaggering up to her with a big old smile on his face. “I saw you yesterday, and I see you today. Wondering if you wanted to dance.”
Gracie felt her mouth open, then she snapped it shut again. She didn’t want him to see her sharper-than-normal incisors and figure out she wasn’t just like the other humans in the bar
.
She should say no. She should set her drink down, walk out of here, and run to the trees where she’d blend in like the demon of the night that she was.
But instead, incredibly, she said, “Yes. I’d like to dance. Mighty kind of you.”
It was as if all the decades of life as a vampire had just flown out of her head and she’d become a girl again, going to a country dance in the nearby town while her uncle waited to yell in her face when she came home.
“I’m Fraze,” the guy said.
He took her hand to lead her to the area cleared for a dance floor, and Gracie felt a shiver go up her spine. His contact felt good. It also awakened the thirst. She should have found someone to feed on right away, as soon as she’d come here. She could have sated her thirst and gone on with the rest of her night, stalking the Corona Pride, feeling empty.
He pulled her into his arms, and she felt her hips press against his strong thighs. Despite her being short, and his height, they fit together perfectly. If she leaned forward, she could rest her head against his chest. She shouldn’t, and she wouldn’t let herself. But oh, she wanted to.
He swayed with her, then leaned closer. “You didn’t tell me your name.”
“I’m Gracie Jane.”
“Beautiful.” Then the swaying motion stopped, and he held her back a few inches. His nostrils flared. “You’re not…human.”
She let go of him and took a step back of her own. “No, I’m not.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re…shit. You’re one of them. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
Frowning, he turned on one heel and walked away. Back to the bar where he sat with his drink and ordered something else.
Gracie had never felt so humiliated in her life. It had been just plain rude, abandoning her in the middle of a dance, and not only was she humiliated by it, but she’d liked touching him. And he’d liked touching her—she had felt it in his member, where it throbbed every time it brushed against her lower stomach.
Feeling sick and angry and confused, she turned and walked out of the bar.
Six
Fraze sipped the lemon drop he’d ordered, but it didn’t taste right. He wasn’t ready to drink again so soon after overdoing it last night.
No, it wasn’t the fucking lemon drop, he told himself. It was because he’d touched that amazing creature, Gracie Jane, and he’d wanted her. And then he’d let her go.
How bereft could he feel when he’d turned down a dead girl?
No, he shook his head. She wasn’t dead. She was alive. And despite the fact that she was a vampire, she had a beating heart. It moved more slowly, but it was there. Her lungs still took in air, slowly again, but nonetheless. She was a creature of magic, just like he was, and he’d done the same thing Bella had done to him years ago—he’d rejected her because she was different.
It wasn’t right.
He stood up and nodded at the bartender, shoving his glass away, then walked outside.
Where had she gone? He tried to follow her scent. Roses, dusty ones. Secrets. She had something dark about her scent, something he couldn’t identify. It was sexy, and it was sweet and old.
It shouldn’t turn him on so hard when he knew she was a vampire, but he couldn’t help it.
He followed the scent around the corner of the old farmhouse, and there she stood, her arms wrapped around a woman, her face pressed to the woman’s neck.
Fraze stopped in his tracks. Should he save the woman Gracie Jane held? Should he…intervene? Before he could rush forward, Gracie Jane stepped away from the woman and held her at arm’s length. “Go on, now,” she said. “I’m glad I could listen to you about your ex. He’s a cheating bastard, and you’re gonna find someone better soon.”
Smiling, the woman kissed Gracie Jane’s cheek, nodded at Fraze, and walked past him to go back into the bar.
“What—what was that?” Fraze asked.
“That was me being ‘one of them,’ as you called me,” Gracie said, her voice bitter and her eyes flashing.
“It wasn’t fair of me to say,” Fraze said. “I came to apologize.”
She looked so cute, leaning up against the wall in her little sundress. It wasn’t like the dark clothes she’d been wearing the night before. This one showed a soft-looking expanse of her chest, with the barest hint of cleavage. And her legs stretched out beneath it. He wanted to touch those, too.
“Well?” she said. “Am I enough of a freak for you? You’re getting a good eyeful, aren’t you?”
“Sorry,” he said. “I just wanted…well, I wanted to apologize. Can I buy you a drink?”
“I don’t think so. I’m not thirsty anymore.”
“You fed on that woman,” Fraze said.
“It’s what vampires do.”
“But you didn’t kidnap her, keep her in a cage for three days.”
She shook her head and gave him a bitter smile. “That was Maslin’s way. Not all of us liked it. We have to follow the king or queen’s orders. I hunt this way, though. And I try to improve the lives of those who give me some of theirs.”
Her heart was beating faster now; he could sense it. She seemed warmer to him, too. He reached out and trailed a finger over her shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she asked, sharply.
“I’m…I’m drawn to you. I don’t know why. And when I ended our dance, I felt wrong.”
She stepped closer to him. “I’m drawn to you, too. And it’s not because I’m thirsty.”
He dipped his head and pressed his mouth against hers. She tasted not of blood, but of sweetness and life and all the dark secrets he wanted to devour. She was a mystery and he wanted to figure her out.
She moaned against his mouth, kissing him back.
Someone left the bar; he could hear their feet on the porch, so he backed Gracie Jane up against the wall so they’d be out of sight. The whole time, he couldn’t stop kissing her sweet mouth. She hooked her knee around his leg, pulling him closer. He wanted nothing more than to be with her, inside her, tasting her and feeling her and losing himself in her.
“I want you,” she said. “I haven’t wanted anyone like this in a very long time.”
“You can have me,” he said.
Her hands were already on his belt before he could look down. Tugging at the buckle, then touching him through his pants. She unfastened the buttons of his jeans and reached inside, gripping him, and he threw his head back to push his pelvis closer to her.
He touched her breasts through her dress, finding her hardening nipples and pinching lightly so that she arched forward into him. “Want you,” he said.
“I’m ready.”
“Do we…need a condom?” he asked.
She laughed, then said, “No. I can’t get pregnant, can’t get diseases.”
She shoved his pants down to his knees, and he lifted her dress. Before he pushed inside her, he touched her, making sure she was as ready as she said. Oh, she was. The dampness between her thighs felt like a slippery paradise, and he pressed his cock home.
Bass thumped from inside Hart’s, and he could feel it against Gracie Jane’s heartbeat, feel it coming into his heart. She gasped as he stroked in and out of her, and she gripped his shoulders with her hands. He kissed her mouth, touched her sharp teeth with his tongue, wanting to explore all of her, wanting to see all of her. Make her happy. Make her feel good. Make her his.
She came first, shuddering around him, her pussy clenching his cock and squeezing tight. It was all he needed for the final push into orgasm, and he came then, too, his muscles locking up as his cock spasmed inside of her.
“That was…that was the best,” he breathed.
The woman in his arms shivered with another aftershock and then blinked up at him. Her dark eyes looked even darker, black like the night. He loved the darkness in her and wanted it to spill over to him.
He was completely, utterly taken with this creature, but what was he doing here?
; After easing himself out of her, he straightened her dress, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
“What just happened?” she asked, her voice hoarse. Bedroom voice. Except they were out here leaning against a bar, of all fucking places.
“I don’t know,” Fraze said.
She looked at him for a long moment, then rushed away.
Seven
At the cabin, Gracie could sense the dawn lightening the sky in the distance. The other vampires had all come back and gone straight down to the basement, all except Bo. Gracie wasn’t worried, though; his talent of flight meant he’d be here soon.
Gracie would have another long day alone.
She gathered some books and walked down the hall to her room, a light-tight space Ana had provided for her. Gracie would camp out here and try not to replay the time with Fraze over and over again in her mind.
The way he’d spilled into her, the whisper of her name from his mouth. His soft kiss to her forehead afterward.
It had been a long, dry spell. Over a hundred years, in fact. The space between her legs throbbed, and she thought of touching herself to pass the time. Remembering the siding of the farmhouse pressing into her shoulder blades as the shifter thrust inside her. He’d been so hard, so firm, so hot. She closed her eyes, thinking of his gray eyes, dark like storm clouds, and how they’d locked on hers. She might’ve been able to reach her peak without even being touched—if he looked at her like that again, she’d probably come immediately.
Suddenly, Bo stormed in.
She looked up, startled, and oh so glad she hadn’t lifted up her dress to touch her ruined panties.
“You look guilty,” Bo snarled.
“I’ve done nothin’ wrong, Bo,” she said. Had he seen her? Had he seen her just now, seen those lascivious thoughts pass across her face? Or had he seen her outside of Hart’s, her dress bunched up, and Fraze pounding into her against the wall?
She hadn’t checked her hair afterward. She’d thrashed when she came—maybe her hair was ratty in the back.
Bo’s hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail again. Gracie smoothed her hair, hoping she didn’t look guilty while she did it.
“I saw you dancin’ with that shifter,” Bo said.