Bite of Envy (Just One Bite #4) (4 page)

The body of Lester Wilcox had washed ashore the same day she
made the arrest- he wasn't identified for an additional week as dental records
had been the only way left to do so. The bottom portion of his head, from the
nose down, was still attached to the torso, but his legs and arms were gone
when he'd washed up on the beach that day, terrifying the five-year-old boy
that had the misfortune of stumbling over the body- almost literally, she saw
with a wave of pity. Cause of death had been the removal of his limbs while he
was still alive- the top of his head was removed perimortem: as he was bleeding
out from losing his arms and legs. It'd been deemed a homicide, of course, as
there was no way he'd done it to his own body, she thought cynically. He'd then
been dumped somewhere out on the ocean, and that was all she wrote.

Sinking back into her chair, she shifted her focus from
Lester to his son. There was no shame in his eyes as he spoke of his father's
habits, and there was certainly no pride. The boy either had a great poker
face, he was numb to the loss, or he just didn't know what to feel. He had her
sympathy, whether he wanted it or not, but she'd not tell him that. He was just
stating the facts, and she admired that. He didn't try to lie, prevaricate or
justify what his dad had done. She laughed as she thought to herself that the
kid would make one Hell of a cop. Somehow, she figured he'd probably take that
as an insult.

She fully intended to spend another night at the precinct-
she had some thinking to do, after all. She was preparing to settle down with
her case files and work for a bit before crashing on the sofa in her office
again when a pang hit her. She grabbed her coffee, parched beyond belief. It
wasn't until she picked up her mug and she glanced down, catching sight of her
pulse pounding in her wrist, that she realized she wasn't thirsty for her usual
drink of choice. She stared, transfixed, watching the pulsing of her blood
through her veins as her fangs sprang forth.
Shit
, she thought frantically,
I
knew there was something I was forgetting
. She glanced out of her office
and the panic turned to fear- there had to be over a dozen people on her way to
the door, and she didn't know how far her willpower would take her. Sucking in
a deep breath, she closed her office door and pulled the blinds before dimming
the lights. She knew people would respect her privacy this way- they'd assume
she was sleeping and leave her alone.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her office window and
jumped effortlessly to the ground below without even the crackle of leaves
beneath her feet.
Hmm, if nothing else,
being this quiet will really come in handy on the job
, she told herself as
she headed for her car. The last thing you wanted to have happen as a cop was
to give away your position by making too much noise when you were pursuing
someone you think may be dangerous, and as a narcotics detective that meant
almost everyone she pursued.

Lizbeth was driving so quickly that she half-feared she'd
get pulled over on the short commute from her office to her home, and flinched
away from the thought of what she might do to the cop who stopped her.
Thankfully she made it home in record time with no incidents along the way. She
pulled into the driveway, setting the parking brake almost before she'd come to
a complete stop. Turning off the ignition with one hand and yanking out the
keys, she opened her car door with the other. Slamming the door shut behind
her, she ran into the house and slammed the front door as well as she bee-lined
for the kitchen and the stash of blood baggies she knew would be waiting.

Skidding into the kitchen, she stopped almost instantly,
narrowly avoiding Adrian as he stepped out in front of her with a glass full to
the brim with warm, fresh blood. She couldn't look at him as she snatched it
from his grasp like a ravenous animal and gulped it down. Lizbeth refused to
acknowledge the fact that he had a second glass waiting, and there was still
fresh blood on his wrists. Somehow he'd known she was coming and she was in
desperate need. Guilt overwhelmed her and she nearly choked on the tears
forming a lump in her throat as she took the second glass more gently from him
and handed him back the empty one.

She sank to the kitchen floor, clutching the glass in her
trembling hands and sobbed like a frightened child. He was so kind to her, and
she'd been nothing but nasty to him and everyone else this last week. She
allowed her fear to blind her to the way she treated the people she loved, and
she was ashamed. The blood sat on her tongue, heavy and metallic, and she
sipped it out of need and not desire now. She'd be damned if she'd let it go to
waste when he'd slit his wrists to give her what she'd needed.

Adrian slid down to the floor next to her and laid a gentle
hand on her knee. "It'll be okay, Lizzie," he said kindly, giving her
knee a slight squeeze before letting go and giving her a bit more space.
"Whatever is wrong, we'll all work together to fix it. But first you need
to stop running from us, stop pushing us away, and start confiding in us. If we
don't know what the problem is, none of us can fix it- and that includes
you."

Lizbeth opened her mouth to speak but found no words. All
that escaped her was another sob, and with that, she set the glass to the side
and threw herself into his arms. She felt the push of comforting energy flowing
into her and her eyes, which had been closed against the flood of tears, flew
open once more. RaeLynn was at her side, touching her leg and giving her a very
adult look of concern as she forced more soothing emotions into her. Diandra
stood with Eamon, and Lizbeth dreaded looking at either of them, fearing she'd
see disgust or recrimination there. Instead she found only love and concern,
and that finally tore down the wall she'd built around her emotions. She curled
up in the fetal position on the cold kitchen floor and cried as though her
heart had broken.

When the tears had final subsided, her second glass was
empty, and her face was dry, Lizbeth got shakily to her feet, avoiding eye
contact with everyone in the room. She was embarrassed by everything- her
attitude here lately, losing control like this, forgetting her need for blood.
She was flushed with shame thanks to the heavy intake of blood Adrian had so generously
provided her.

Lizzie walked out of the room, mumbling a hasty,
"Excuse me," on her way to the stairs. Diandra called after her.
"We need to talk, honey, so be prepared to do so come morning." As
Lizbeth turned and opened her mouth to protest, Diandra raised a hand to
indicate she's not done. "I love you, but if you don't call out of work
and spend the day with us, then you should be prepared to find somewhere else
to live."

"That's not fair," Lizbeth choked out, anger and
hurt coloring her words. "I've got work that needs doing tomorrow,"
ignoring the fact that she had no active cases to work on. "Why can't this
wait until tomorrow night?"

Diandra merely shook her head sadly as she scooped RaeLynn
up in her arms. "Because it's waited long enough already, and I can't take
any more of this. I've been as patient as I can, but if you keep running and
hiding you'll find there's no one waiting for you anymore." She turned her
back on the conversation and went to the parlor. Eamon and Adrian froze where
they were, unable to do or say anything in the uncomfortable silence that was
growing.

Lizbeth took a deep breath, turned her back and walked up
the stairs without another word. She gathered her pillows and her night clothes
and crossed the hall to the guest bedroom. She was angry, and she'd be damned
if she'd spend the night in that room right now, but she wouldn't run away
anymore, either. She changed her clothes and climbed into bed, but before
falling asleep she called the precinct and let them know she wouldn't be in to
work in the morning. With that, she laid her head on the pillows and cried
herself to sleep.

Lizbeth was disoriented when she woke up. Nothing looked the
way she was used to, and the bed was in a different position in the bedroom.
She studied the room blearily for a few moments until the night before came
crashing back into her memory, making her cringe. God, what an ass she'd been
to everyone. What could she say in her own defense? That she was jealous of all
the power everyone else had? That she'd only agreed to be changed because she
thought it would make her as powerful as Diandra? How asinine could one person
be?

She got out of bed and crept to the bathroom to shower and
brush her teeth. It was silly, she knew, but she wanted to be as prepared as
possible, and she'd take any advantage she could get, even one as strange as
being dressed for the day. She padded to the bedroom wrapped in a towel and
began searching for something to wear, surprised but pleased to see Diandra
wasn't in bed. She grabbed a black tank top and matching yoga pants since she
didn't have to be to work, but drew the line at putting on shoes. There was such
thing as being ridiculously overdressed, and she'd be crossing that line when
she normally preferred to be barefoot at home.

Lizbeth took a deep breath and began her descent to the
dining room. If she was going to survive an inquisition she needed her damned
coffee first. Adrian smiled kindly as he handed her a cup already prepared
sweet and light, just the way she always took it. She grinned in response,
grateful they'd hired him. He really was invaluable to them, and she was glad
he made no noises about leaving them. She didn't know what they'd do if he ever
decided to move on to another job, but she knew, deep inside, that eventually
that day would come.

Diandra was already seated at the dining room table, and
Lizbeth's heart gave a little lurch as she realized Dia looked like shit. She
had obviously not slept at all, and judging by the red rimming her eyes, she'd
been crying as well. The guilt was overwhelming- she couldn't believe how much
she'd upset the balance they'd found in their household. What the Hell had she
been thinking, treating everyone the way she had? Oh, she knew- she'd been
thinking only of herself and her own feelings and to Hell with everyone else's.
God, what a bitch she'd become these last several days.

Lizbeth held a hand up, forestalling any comments Diandra
was getting ready to make. "I'm sorry," she said simply. "I know
an apology doesn't mean a fucking thing right now, but looking around this
house, looking at everyone in it, I am so damned sorry for what I've done to us
all. I just wanted to say that before we went any further." She looked
down into her coffee mug, twirling it restlessly between her hands. She
couldn't bring herself to make eye contact just yet.

Diandra sighed and took a sip of her rapidly cooling coffee.
"All right, thank you. I think I'll hold my decision on whether or not to
accept it in reserve for right now." She gave a rueful smile at Lizbeth's
look of surprise. "You're always apologizing, but you keep make the same choices
over and over again. It makes it hard to believe you're sincere when all you do
is repeat the same mistakes. So I can't forgive you, not yet, not until we
talk. No more running, no more evading, just total honesty. You know as well as
I do that a relationship can't work if there's no communication, and right now
you've done your damndest to make sure there is none."

Lizbeth bowed her head, hiding behind a curtain of her dark
hair. Normally she kept it just barely brushing her shoulders, but she'd
started growing it out since she knew Dia loved to run her fingers through the
lengthening locks. Now it made a perfect place to hide behind. If she had to be
honest, she'd rather not look at anyone while she did it.

Eamon spoke up from the doorway. "As this concerns us,
I'd like to be included in this conversation, if you don't mind." He sat
down at the dining room table, a bowl of tuna salad near at hand.

"That's up to Lizbeth," Diandra said softly, and
Lizbeth could feel those lilac eyes boring into her as she shifted in her chair
and nodded in agreement.

Eamon sat down and waited for the conversation to begin as he
dug in to his breakfast, but Adrian refilled everyone's coffee mugs first.
Always the good employee
, Lizbeth
thought to herself as she thanked him quietly and picked up her mug.

You could do worse
,
a sarcastic voice said inside her head, and she looked up quickly, startled as
she met Eamon's gaze. He'd never spoken to her this way before, and she found
it jarring that he did so when she felt so defenseless.
That's why I'm able to
, he said as he finished his tuna.
Your defenses are lowered enough for me to
actually reach you for a change. You keep yourself locked up tighter than the
fucking Crown Jewels most of the time. It's about time you let me in. Now how
about we include the others in this conversation before it gets awkward, huh?

Lizbeth took another deep breath and thought to herself,
if I keep taking in this much air I'm liable
to float away. Put up or shut up time
… "All right, I guess it's time
for a story, huh? What it all comes down to is simple jealousy. How lame is
that?" She let out a short bark of laughter, surprised when no one laughed
with her, or at her. "Yeah, that's what's been eating at me. Eamon can do
all these amazing things- he flies, he pushes his way into people's heads,
invited or not," she said as she rolled her eyes in his direction.
"He shapeshifts, and he works hard to keep us safe here. And I can't do
any of it."

She turned her focus to Diandra. "And you, honey, you
do it all, but better. You can fly, you're stronger than Eamon, you run faster,
you learned to shapeshift on your own. You're like this super vamp, and I'm
nothing. What's so fucking impressive about me?" She continued before
anyone could answer. Once the bubble she'd kept inside her had burst she
couldn't stop it. It was all coming out now, like it or not. "Even RaeLynn
is more impressive than I am, and I think we've still only seen the tip of the
iceberg where she's concerned. So what good am I? I didn't want this life,
damnit. I wanted to be a good cop, not a liability that might fang up if
there's blood oozing out of a dead body at my feet. I didn't want this, but if
I had to live this way, I wanted to be someone's equal. I'm no one now- I'm
nothing." She pushed her coffee aside, uninterested in it now as she laid
her head down on the table and cried once more. After last night, she couldn't
believe she had any tears left to cry.