Sunglasses at Night (Claws Clause Book 3)

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Sunglasses at Night (Claws Clause Book 3) Page 21

by Jessica Lynch

Grabbing the chair that Shea had used, he dragged it by her bedside. He wanted to reach out and touch her, prove to himself that she was alive and well, but he didn’t trust himself not to tug her out of the bed and settle her on his lap where she belonged.

  “How you feeling?”

  She snuggled against the pillows at her back. “Been better. Been worse.” Though Adam struggled to keep his hands to himself, she had no problem. She slipped hers from out from under the comforter, casually patting his thigh. “Gonna be fine, though, so you don’t have to look like you’re picking out my casket or anything.”

  The laugh bubbled out of him. He didn’t realize how much he was afraid he’d never hear any of her sass again until she easily threw some his way. “Was I that obvious?”

  “Well, yeah. But it’s okay. Shea told me what happened. A witch and a vamp? And I thought I showed off when I got the vamp and the shifter in one night. That was hours apart, not minutes.”

  “You’re a right little asskicker, Tab.”

  “You know it.”

  Her dark eyes gleamed, though she didn’t make any other moves. Even though she wanted him to believe that she was alright, she was probably still a little shaken up. In all the time that he had known her, he had never seen her stay so still for so long. She was always moving, even if it was just her jaw.

  She was okay. He exhaled roughly. Shea was right. Tabby was okay.

  Like the healer, though, she looked tired. He doubted that whatever sleep Priscilla’s spell had forced her into had been restful. Tabby’s sleeping cycle was similar to a Nightwalker’s: up all night while sleeping during the day. She should be catching up on her z’s, not humoring him.

  Adam stood up.

  “Hey. Where are you going? Leaving so soon?”

  “It was a long night. Now that I know you’re alright…” He attempted a yawn, going for casual, accepting that he probably failed miserably. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

  A part of Adam wanted Tabby to ask him to stay. To tell him that she didn’t want him to leave her.

  She didn’t.

  “Oh, yeah. Sure.” A slight nod, like she couldn’t be bothered one way or another. Until she added quickly, “But, before you go—”

  He cocked his head. “Yeah?”

  “I mentioned it to Shea before she left to get you, but she said to wait until you came up.” Tabby paused for a moment, narrowing her gaze on Adam. “Before I got hit, I saw you facing off with a Nightwalker. You looked like you were gunning for him. I’ve seen you hunt before. That was… different.”

  He felt his back go straight. “Is there a question in there somewhere?”

  “That was him, wasn’t it? The Nightwalker who turned you. The one you’ve been hunting these last few months.”

  For a heartbeat, Adam regretted opening up to her about that. When she was just a slayer that did a number on his libido, he asked her what she was doing in Grayson; as its self-proclaimed protector, he needed to make sure she wouldn’t interfere with his own hunts. She admitted that the Society of Slayers sent her in town to track a murderous Nightwalker.

  He assumed she meant the bald bastard Adam killed the night they met in the alleyway and let it drop. As far as he was concerned, if slayers hunted dangerous Paras, they were on the same side.

  Of course, then Tabby—in that innocent way she had—asked him what he was doing. And while it was obvious that he ran around rescuing pretty girls from nasty ol’ Nightwalkers, he found himself confessing his true goal. Not because he wanted her to go after Rafe Silverson for him, but because he needed her to understand that, while he was currently stuck being a Nightwalker, he didn’t want to be one. At the time, he didn’t know about the elixir. He didn’t know there was a chance to reverse the turning. He just wanted his revenge.

  And he could have it, too. The Claws Clause made it crystal clear. As the victim of Rafe’s crime, Adam had the right to kill Rafe when he finally caught up to him.

  A life for a life.

  Rafe tore out Adam’s throat. He’d eventually repay the favor by lopping off his head.

  But he didn’t. The first sighting he had of Rafe in more than six months, and Adam let him go because he was afraid to leave Tabby’s side.

  “Adam. Tell me. Was that him?”

  He couldn’t lie to her. Well, he could—he wasn’t one of the Dayborn race of vampires—but one look in her knowing gaze, and Adam knew he’d forever tell this woman the truth.

  “Yes.”

  Tabby bit down on her bottom lip, frowning, almost as if trying to understand what that simple answer meant.

  “I… wait. You told me that, except for being human again, all you wanted was to take out the vamp responsible for turning you.” Her brow furrowed. “I was watching you fight him. You were playing with him, drawing it out. You could’ve taken him. Why didn’t you?”

  “Something happened.”

  “What?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  He should’ve known better by then. He should’ve known that Tabby wasn’t going to drop it.

  “What happened? The only thing I remember was that bitch hitting me with her magic. Did something happen when I went down? Did the vamp get away?”

  “You could say that.”

  Tabby struggled to sit up. Adam felt his heart leap into his throat, anxiety pulsing inside of him as she moved weakly, gasping under her breath before she was halfway upright.

  “Stop moving,” he snapped, his nerves getting the better of him. “You need to rest.”

  “I’m fine,” she lied, brushing it off. “I’ve been hurt way worse than this and that’s without a healing. Now stop stalling. Why did you let him get away? Because I think I got a handle on you by now, champ. I’ve seen you hunt the rogue vamps. If that Rafe pranced away with his head intact, it’s only because you let him.”

  Adam pressed his lips together.

  “Why did you let him?”

  Because I’d rather have you alive than him dead.

  “You need to rest,” he said again, gentler this time. “Me, too. The sun’s out so I’m not going anywhere. We’ll talk tonight.”

  “Adam—”

  “Tonight, Tab. Okay?”

  And, before she could try to convince him to stay, he bolted for the door and, feeling like a major asshole and a coward, made his escape.

  With Adam’s help, Tabby moved from the Bumptown back to her rented apartment in Grayson the same night.

  She was grateful for Colt’s hospitality and Shea’s support, but the second her body shook off the last of Priscilla Winters’ hit, Tabby wanted out of the bed.

  Adam was right, damn him. She needed to rest. After an extended nap, she woke up just as the sun was going down, ready to go.

  The healer was surprised to see her recover so quickly—not Tabby. It was part of what made her family suited to be slayers after all.

  It was like how the magic imbued into certain slayer weapons could sense a person’s aura and tell whether they were human or not; if Para, then what kind. There was something in a slayer’s make-up: they didn’t produce any aura at all. They were quick, they were strong, and they had a high tolerance for pain. Basically, the perfect hunter so long as they had a weapon in hand.

  Add that to Tabby’s tendency to want to get up and move and, despite Adam’s obvious concern and Shea’s invitation to stay, as soon as the sun went down again, she needed to get out of there.

  And, no, it had nothing to do with waking up after her nap to discover the nearly faded phantom of an early twentieth-century gangster hovering over her, why do you ask?

  Tabby hadn’t screamed. Her first reaction was to grab Venice and send it flying end over end at him. Unfortunately, since Dodge McCoy was a ghost, it didn’t do anything except pass right through him before landing on the floor with a clank that had Adam bursting into the room.

  Because Adam was still there.

  Because the Nightwalker had barely left her si
de.

  She still couldn’t get over the conversation they had that morning, when she first woke up. She’d found it difficult to believe what Shea had told her, until Adam confessed that he had let Rafe Silverson get away all because she got hurt.

  He gave up his chance to kill the Nightwalker responsible for his change… for her?

  It seemed like Shea was right. Maybe Adam did care more than she thought.

  He purposely didn’t mention the Alpha’s mate or her pregnancy again. Tabby began to wonder if that meant she was forgiven after all, and when Adam asked if she would invite him inside after he drove her home that night, she decided that she was.

  And she couldn’t be more relieved.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have begged for an invitation upstairs, Adam thought as he followed Tabby into her apartment, but it just slipped out. The idea of letting her out of his sight for even a second had him seeing red, the beginnings of an unholy bloodlust gripping him.

  And not only because she had shared her blood with him twice now. Ever since he saw the other Nightwalker bowed over her, feed on his slayer, he felt this urge to slaughter the entire world if it meant he could keep her safe.

  He knew what this was. It didn’t take a vamp expert to figure out that he was struggling with the incomplete bond that existed between him and Tabby. Now that Deb had pointed it out to him, he could… he could almost feel it. The way it twisted around his heart, ripping out of his chest, reaching for Tabby.

  It was there and he couldn’t deny it.

  But it was more than that, too.

  While Shea was checking in on Tabby in the upstairs guest room, Adam searched out Colt in his workshed. Though he knew better than to disturb the ornery shifter while he was working—Pretty Boy was such an anal-retentive dick over his private space—he’d been surprised to find Colt waiting for him, his safety glasses and earplugs already put away in their proper place.

  Turned out Dodge had a big mouth and a tendency to snoop; that or Deb had gossiped with the ghost. Either way, Dodge had told Colt that Adam was in the middle of bonding Tabby to him.

  To his ever-loving embarrassment, Colt decided he should offer Adam some advice when it came to claiming a mate.

  And he thought he’d never live it down when Deb talked to him about condoms…

  Surprisingly, Colt actually had some pretty good tips.

  Number one? Don’t ignore the bond. It wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t supposed to. After all, fated mates were called that for a reason. Colt knew better than most that it wouldn’t go away on its own because he wanted it to, and now he was absolutely devoted to his witch mate.

  Number two? Talk to his betrothed. Even though he was a Para with a cop’s instinct regarding lies, he wasn’t a mindreader. Neither was Tabby. Communication was essential. He had to tell her what was on his mind because he couldn’t just expect her to know that he wanted this—whatever this was—to be more than just a casual fling.

  The way his Para instincts took over when he saw Tabby get attacked proved that one alright.

  And number three? Finish the bonding sooner or later. An incomplete bond could be a weakness, and if he was sure that Tabby was the one, what was the use in waiting?

  Adam agreed with the first tip. Decided to use the second one.

  The third one?

  Not a chance.

  With the bond already two-thirds of the way there, it was all too tempting to throw Tabby on the bed, forget the damn condom like Deb cheekily suggested, and claim her for his Nightwalker mate. But what if they finally heard back from Holly and he got the elixir? What happened then?

  Even worse, what if she discovered what he wanted to do and she said no? She had every right to—he could never bond her to him for life without her being completely down with it—but Adam wasn’t so sure he could take the rejection.

  Which was precisely why, when Tabby snagged his hand and started to guide him toward the bedroom, he had to make his position clear.

  “Hey. Can we hang on for a sec?”

  “Why?”

  Yeah, Adam. Why?

  He dug in his heels. “I promised that we would talk tonight. Remember?”

  If he had to answer to her concerns over watching Rafe disappear into the Wolf’s Creek woods, he’d do it. It would be the easiest way to lead into the whole “so, yeah, looks like you’re my betrothed” chat he was seriously wishing he could avoid.

  Tabby tugged on his hand. “Is that really what you came all the way up here for? Talking?”

  She almost sounded disappointed.

  He knew how she felt.

  “I know. Just humor me, okay?”

  “Can I get naked?”

  Adam swallowed his groan. “I’d love that,” he said honestly, “but you might want to wait.”

  “The talking can wait.”

  For her, maybe. “Then allow me. There’s something I want to talk to you about before we go to bed.”

  If she still wanted to go to bed with him…

  A devilish twinkle filled her dark eyes. “I can listen with my panties on or off. Promise.”

  “Tabby. Please.”

  “Fine. Clothes on. Gotcha. But can we talk in there? That way, when you’re done with whatever you want to tell me, we’ll already be in bed.”

  If this wasn’t so important, he’d be flattered by her one-track mind. He’d never had someone so eager to jump his bones like his slayer.

  Was it the bond? He didn’t know.

  And, until he could be sure, he had to be the rational one.

  Still, despite being a Nightwalker, he really was only human.

  So when Tabby pulled him into the bedroom, then shucked off her shirt with an, “Oops, changed my mind,” Adam decided that it wouldn’t be right to keep on refusing her. She’d had a rough twenty-four hours, and when she hoarsely murmured that only he could help her with her ache, he couldn’t resist her.

  Tomorrow, he promised as he fell into bed with his slayer. Tomorrow he would confess the truth about the bond for sure.

  Tomorrow came sooner than he thought.

  Though she tried to tell him that she was feeling one hundred percent better, Tabby made it through one orgasm before she cuddled up next to him, falling asleep. Adam got up quickly to remove the condom and splash his face with some water, frustrated that he’d been so weak as to let her seduce him as easily as that. He barely put up a fight and, on the other side of coming, he felt like such an ass.

  At least he’d insisted on the condom. Turned out, that was a good idea.

  It had shocked the hell out of him that, at the height of her orgasm, Tabby insisted on him taking a sip from her neck. He hadn’t been able to deny her that, either, even though he never thought she’d let him after the way the Nightwalker attacked her.

  Not just an ass, then. A fucking ass.

  Pulling his jeans on again, he slid back into bed, his heart going tight when she murmured his name before rolling right next to him.

  Swearing that he’d be honest with her as soon as they woke up, he soaked up Tabby’s warmth and joined her in sleep.

  He just thought that, when he woke up again, it would be closer to dusk.

  Though her windows were still shielded, he could tell the difference between the dark of night and the bright light beating against the shades and the curtain. His innate sense of time—another Nightwalker quirk—told him that it was mid-afternoon when Tabby woke him up with a nuzzle on his cheek.

  Her voice was husky and enticing as she murmured the last thing he thought she would say: “Okay, champ What did you want to talk about?”

  “Now?”

  It almost squeaked out of him. Adam cleared his throat, blinking when the faint light was still too bright for him. Not enough for the sunlight to burn him, but his eyes were already squinting against it. Slapping at the nightstand table on his side of the bed, he found his sunglasses, slipping them back on.

  “Well, I was wondering if you’d be up for
a little early nookie, but I feel bad about putting you off last night. So, we can talk or…” She reached down, her hand traveling to his crotch. Her eyebrows rose when she realized he’d gotten redressed at some point during the early morning hours, and she said, “or I can work on getting you to take these off again.”

  “No, no. You’re right.” Since the temptation to just lay there while Tabby tugged on his zipper was just too great, Adam slid his ass across the sheet, scrabbling out of the bed. “We… we’ve gotta talk.”

  “I’m listening.”

  He exhaled. The rush of air turned to a pained groan when Tabby sat up, the comforter pooling around her middle.

  With an impish grin, she lifted it up, covering her bare tits. “Sorry.”

  She so wasn’t sorry.

  But he might be.

  Moving away from the bed, pacing along the edge of its foot, he glanced back at Tabby and nodded. “Okay.” He took in a deep breath, pushing it out through his nose. “Did I ever tell you that I bought a ring for Eva?” When Tabby’s expression went blank, he had to remember that—apart from her mother, Naomi—no one else referred to her with that name. “I mean, Evangeline.”

  “The Alpha’s mate?” At his nod, she asked, “Wait. You mean, like, an engagement ring?”

  “Yeah. I never gave it to her, obviously. I didn’t even realize that she was married to Wolfe at the time.” True. He knew they were mated, but it didn’t come out that Wolfe and Eva had eloped until her memories returned years later. If he’d known she was married… well, he might’ve done things a little differently. “That doesn’t change the fact that I bought one, though.”

  “Okay. Um. Is there a reason that you’re telling me this? Because, just throwing it out there,” Tabby said, a teasing note to her voice, “but hearing you bring up your ex isn’t doing too much for my libido.”

  “I know. And it has nothing to do with Eva. I’m just making my point. I thought I was ready to settle down with her, but I never had the chance. And, before you think I’m looking at you like a back-up plan, it’s not like that. Before you, Tab, I decided that I was done with love. Done with women. As soon as I killed Rafe, I was heading toward ash anyway, so why bother?

 

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