by Tanith Frost
I wish my heart was beating so it could skip and I could laugh about it later. Still, I don’t need my pulse to tell me I’m enjoying this bit of excitement. My life has been quiet for so long. I’ve enjoyed the break, but maybe a little hit of danger is exactly what I need right now.
Chapter Three
Daniel pulls to a stop well away from the highway and shuts the engine off.
For a moment, neither of us moves. I want him. There’s no question. My body is waking up, pulsing with excitement as memories of him flood my brain. But this is no small decision. There’s still a chance, in this moment, that either of us could change our minds. We could try one more time for a professional, detached relationship.
He turns to me as he slips his glasses off. I wonder whether he’s thinking about the same things I am, whether he thinks it would be a mistake to open Pandora’s box and release whatever we’ve kept locked away in our time apart.
I lean across the centre console and press my lips to his before I can overthink it.
I want this. Need this. Contact. Belonging.
Daniel.
His response is instantaneous. His lips move against mine, murmuring my name like he’s offering surrender as his hands tangle in my hair. The angle is terrible, no matter how I twist my body toward him. I climb across to his lap. My ass hits the steering wheel and the horn blares out a quick blast before I shift my weight toward him.
My God. Was it always this good? It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself to think about Daniel in this way. Even when I did, back when I was still waiting for him, my memories began to fail me, dulled by overexposure. I forgot exactly how sharp the bite of his venom is, its intoxicating taste mixing with that of my own weak blood as my tongue scrapes the points of his fangs. I want to sink my teeth into him. Not to feed, but to punish him for denying me this for so long.
I’d almost forgotten what it feels like to let myself want someone this badly.
Though the space is tight and the interior of the Pathfinder is as good as pitch black when the headlights go out, his movements are certain as his hands slip down my throat to trace my collarbones and trail over my chest. He slides them under my shirt, and hot desire floods me as I move my hips against him. For a moment, my sins and my punishments are forgotten. There is nothing but our bodies and the intense pleasure I ache to take from him.
He releases my lips long enough to pull my shirt up over my head. My arms hit the ceiling and I claw the shirt off, tossing it behind his seat…
…Where the seats are already lying flat, wide and inviting.
“Back seat?” I gasp.
He mutters something against my lips that’s probably assent, but it’s several more seconds before he releases me. I climb over the console onto the elevated floor behind our seats and lie on my stomach to shove aside our bags, which have been sliding around every time we turn a corner. Before I can turn over Daniel climbs into the back, holding himself over me, hands planted on either side of my torso. His body doesn’t touch mine, but I feel him all the same. Every muscle in my body tenses as he brushes the hair away from the back of my neck and presses his lips to my skin, dragging his fangs down my neck too lightly to even scratch me. I shiver hard and roll over, thanking the void, the heavens, and anyone who will listen that we’re not in the cramped back seat of his car.
He lowers himself on top of me. I catch his lips with mine and work at the buttons of his stupid, frustrating shirt until I can push it back over his shoulders. The t-shirt beneath it joins mine on the floor seconds later.
Nothing has changed. While in some ways it’s like I’m discovering his body for the first time, running my hands over the curves and planes of his torso, it’s also like we were never apart. Our year of training together, of him kicking my ass and teaching me awareness of my body and my opponent’s, have us moving together like we can read each other’s minds.
There’s no awkward what if we or is it okay if I. Just desire and two strong bodies that know each other both as opponents and as lovers.
I’ve almost got his belt undone when light washes over us, bright white and blinding, followed by flashing red and blue.
Daniel snarls and squints up through the rear window. His pupils are pinpricks in his hazel irises. A frightening effect, and not at all convincing if we need to act like we’re alive. His fangs are bared.
“Daniel.”
He looks down at me, still openly enraged. Though I have no fear his anger is directed at me, the shock of seeing him like this is enough to dampen my desire.
“Daniel, relax.”
He blinks slowly, then regains his composure. He runs his tongue over his teeth as though familiarizing himself with what he needs to hide, and reaches back into the front seat for his glasses. I wish I had a pair. My head is already pulsing with the throb of the lights, and my eyes can’t look any less inhuman than Daniel’s did. Mine might even be worse, given their pale grey hue.
I slip my shirt back on and sit up, leaning against the trunk door so my back is to the light, resting my face between my raised knees.
A door slams outside, and my skin prickles as cold fingers of apprehension grip my heart. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with the living recently. I can remember to breathe, to speak without revealing my fangs. But this isn’t like talking to the people of Bloody Bight, most of whom had some sense of our differences and didn’t much care as long as we kept our distance. This is a police officer, a living human trained to see the unusual, already on high alert if he or she has taken the time to follow us down here and check things out.
It’s not us I’m scared for. So much will depend on this human’s actions in the next few minutes, and I have no control over them.
Daniel is still buttoning his shirt as the bright LED beam of a flashlight blinds me through the window next to him. I raise a hand to block it, and the light moves off my face. A soft tap at the window follows, and Daniel motions toward the front seat. He climbs up and settles himself, then indicates that he needs the engine running. He starts the vehicle, then lowers the window with the push of a button.
“Evening, officer. Awkward timing.”
There’s no hint in his voice of the animal rage I saw just moments ago, when he reminded me of an old-school movie vampire denied a feeding. He sounds composed, appropriately sheepish.
“We had a report of possible dangerous driving. Someone saw you turn off the highway back there in an awful hurry.” A female voice. “Roll down the back window and turn off the vehicle.”
Daniel complies without looking back at me. The window descends, the engine falls silent, and the flashlight catches me again.
“You all right there?” she asks. She’s got that hardass cop quality to her voice, but there’s genuine concern there, and an invitation.
If you’re not okay, tell me. Show me. Hint to me. I’ll help you.
I give her a shaky smile that seems appropriate for the situation. “I am, thanks. A little embarrassed, to be quite honest, but I’m as responsible for any of this as he is. Thank you.”
I can’t look straight at her with that light on me, but I guess that’s not too unusual.
“You should move on,” she says. She lowers the beam slightly. “Head home. Find a room.”
I nod. “We will, thanks. Right away.”
With the light off my face, I can see her better. She’s young, but there’s nothing inexperienced about her. She’s got her sharp, narrowed eyes fixed on my face. I want this suspicion to be just part of her job, natural wariness in a position where a peaceful situation can turn deadly in moments. But she looks back to Daniel, studying his profile in the light of the dashboard, and her pulse speeds up. I smell her blood, hot and alive.
Daniel doesn’t move, doesn’t react outwardly, but I know him too well to think he’s not picking up on this as much as I am. She might be worried that one of us has a gun. She has no idea how deadly we both are without them.
“I’ll
need to see your license and registration,” she says.
Daniel passes her the required documents, which he’s stored behind the visor. He moves slowly, keeping his hands visible, his posture as non-threatening as it’s possible for him to be.
The problem isn’t his movements. It’s his nature. There’s something inherently predatory about Daniel, no matter how well he masks his power.
The cop’s eyes narrow again. Something is bothering her. Another person might brush it off as heebie-jeebies brought on by the night and our isolation, but she’s been trained to trust her instincts as much as I have mine.
She doesn’t look over the form or read the card before she makes her way back to her car. She keeps an eye on us as she walks away, and her hand rests near the butt of her gun.
“She’s nervous,” I say when she’s well out of earshot.
“Yeah.”
“What are we going to do?”
He looks up into the rearview mirror and meets my gaze in the reflection. His expression reveals nothing, and even when I try to open myself to his emotions as I’ve occasionally been able to do, there’s nothing there.
Suddenly I wonder whether he feels anything. A chill passes over my skin, prickling the hairs on my arms. I always assumed he just had thick walls, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe there’s nothing there to protect.
I crawl up into the front seat. Whatever happens next, fun time is over. All I want now is to get out of here without blood on our hands.
The cop doesn’t close her door when she returns a few minutes later.
“Stay in the car, whatever happens,” Daniel says, just before she reaches us.
“Daniel, I—”
The cop looks in the window, and I catch the name embroidered in white on her dark vest. A. Ventura. I wonder how much teasing she gets over that, whether her co-workers call her “Ace,” how hard she has to fight to get over that little hurdle.
Daniel’s papers won’t have brought up any red flags. The license is fake, of course, but it will have come up as real, his record spotless. Vampires don’t all have exciting jobs, and some of the paper-pushers among us have their fingers way deeper in human society than Daniel or I do. Maelstrom’s records department runs a tight ship.
But she doesn’t look convinced.
I’m aware of our priorities. If she figures us out, if our world is threatened, she will not walk away to tell anyone else. She will disappear.
There’s a part of me that still wants to save her helpless ass if it comes to a fight between her and the monster in the seat next to me.
I won’t. I’ve lost too much already, and come too far to give it all up. I can afford another misstep even less than Daniel can. I only hope I’ll be able to forgive myself afterward.
Her radio crackles at her shoulder. Daniel’s long fingers grip the steering wheel, then relax. “Is there a problem, officer?”
“Not one,” she says. She inhales deeply. Sniffing for alcohol or pot, I’d guess, searching for something that explains how she feels right now.
“Are we free to go?”
“No.”
“Are we under arrest?”
His voice is maddeningly calm. An innocent, living human would at least be nervous by now, but I doubt his pride would let him act that way even if it made things easier on us. It probably hasn’t crossed his mind.
Let us go, I plead silently.
Daniel shoots me a quick glance, and based on the wary look that crosses his face, he’s caught the concern on mine. He turns to her at last. She freezes, then takes several steps back. The hand that hovered near her gun earlier now presses down on the butt, ready to draw.
Bless her. She may think she’s fast, but she has no idea what speed really is.
Daniel is out of the car before she can possibly be aware of what’s happening. He slams the door behind him and holds his hands up, as though anyone would believe he’d surrender. She steps back again as she takes in his full height, his athletic build, and the no doubt menacing look in his eyes. He steps forward, and she takes yet another step back, appearing unaware that she’s retreating.
I slip out of the vehicle, disobeying his orders so I can take up a position flanking her. I’m silent as a shadow, but visible. Still, she doesn’t turn to look at me.
She pulls her gun, though far more slowly than I’d have expected.
“Don’t,” Daniel says softly.
Her breath catches in her throat with a quick hiccup.
“Good,” he says. “Put that away. You don’t need it. Nothing is wrong.”
I creep closer. I expect her to shout at him, to threaten, maybe to shoot, but she appears entirely calm.
She stares straight ahead, and the hand holding her gun falls to her side like a run-down clockwork toy.
“A silly mistake,” Daniel says. “There’s no need to file a report on this. No paperwork about drawing your gun. That would be so tedious.”
“Right,” she agrees, and her voice has flattened. “Silly.”
His posture relaxes, if only slightly. “You let us go, didn’t you?”
“I did?”
“You did. You’re irritated about having to come out here to deal with what turned out to be just a couple out parking in the woods.”
She nods.
“Go, then.”
She hurries back to her car, muttering into her radio, shaking her head.
Daniel leans forward, resting his hands on his knees like he’s catching his breath, though such a thing is entirely unnecessary for him. I keep my distance, but wait. He’s surely aware that I’m here.
He looks up a minute later and checks over his shoulder. The cop is busy writing something in her notebook, apparently unconcerned about the fact that the people who had her so nervous a few minutes ago could be escaping on foot through the forest.
My insides feel like they’re made of ice. What he’s done looks better on the surface than him attacking her. She’s alive. It’s what I wanted.
But as I catch sight of her staring blankly out the front window of her car, waiting for us to leave, I can’t help feeling that something has slipped off the rails.
Daniel gets back into the Pathfinder, and I follow. A moment later, the cop performs a neat three-point turn and leaves us alone. Daniel rests his head back against his seat and closes his eyes.
“What was that?” I ask, though it was pretty clear. I just need him to say it.
“I changed her mind.” He rubs a hand along the side of his jaw. “I didn’t see her thoughts, just provided new ones.”
He sounds exhausted.
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
He rolls his head sideways to look at me. “Not many do. My advice about never letting anyone know the extent and nature of your gifts doesn’t only apply to you. There are those who will use anything they can against you. Remember that.” He pushes the button to start the engine and focuses on the road as he turns back to the highway. “I suppose you’d have been better off not knowing.”
My stomach sinks. He did tell me to stay in the car. I reacted as I did because I wanted to be ready for a physical confrontation, not for this.
“I didn’t—” I start, and cut myself off. He doesn’t seem angry. Not even disappointed, exactly, that his old student disobeyed him. Just tired, and maybe resigned.
It’s all evident in the subtle shifts in his power when I open myself to perceiving it. His walls are down, and my relief at finding something behind them is almost as strong as my confusion over what I’ve just witnessed.
He probably saved that cop’s life. Even if she suffers some aftereffects, I’m not about to second-guess what he did. It’s the fact that he was able to do it at all that has my stomach churning. I’ve known Daniel for years and never saw anything like this. We all have gifts, some more obvious than others, but I assumed his lay in his skills at tracking rogues and his near-flawless ability to mask his power and emotions. While those have served him w
ell, Daniel’s gifts clearly run far deeper than I ever imagined.
It’s not until we’re back on the highway, though, that I realize what’s really bothering me about him showing the cop such a dubious mercy.
It would have been far more efficient and less risky for him to just kill her and have someone come by to make the car and the body disappear. While I’ve always been hesitant to ask for details, I understand how good our clan is at making the living vanish, leaving barely a ripple when they go. It wouldn’t have hurt Daniel’s reputation to do it, either. Shit happens, and he’d just have been doing his job.
He did this for me.
I should feel good about the fact that he cares. Instead, cold fingers of fear grip my heart. It’s a small thing, but he’s bent his rules and risked exposing his secret to spare me pain. It’s a crack in his armour that I hadn’t expected to see.
Daniel once told me I was dangerous.
Maybe this is why.
Chapter Four
We don’t waste any more time on the road. No more attempted stops, and no more flirting. The moment has passed, at least for now. Daniel doesn’t ask what I’m stewing about as the hours pass.
He probably thinks I’m worried about that woman and what will happen to her. A year and a half ago, when he was training me and he knew me as well as anyone, he’d have been right. My top concern would have been her mental state, and whether the manipulation of her brain waves would end with her killing herself.
It’s not unheard of. I’ve seen it myself.
But I understand now that I can’t let myself worry about her. What’s done is done. I’m returning to a world where there’s not much room for regret, and none at all for caring about the living. By vampire standards, we’ve already gone beyond any consideration we should have shown this human.
All told, this night has turned into a rough reintroduction to what it means to be a vampire, and I’m remembering just how out of tune I am with all of it.