Flowers and Fangs (Stake and Dust series, Book II) (4 page)

Tim's mouth quirked and a low menacing
chuckle greeted her. "I can see your wheels are turning inside that
pretty little head of yours, but I'll make it simple, unlike how my
brother did for me. I'm a vampire. You know—the kind that drinks
blood and all that."

The kind that drank blood—was there
another kind?
She shook her head. "That's impossible. You've
been ill. You must be…running a fever."

"I've never felt better." He shook his head
and kept grinning like he'd given her the best news. He took
another step toward her. "I can make you feel good, too."

"Stay back." She bumped into the wall,
separating the kitchen from the living room and quickly
sidestepped.

"But I can't stay away from you. You invited
me in and I'm
soooo
hungry." His gaze roved over her like
she was a delectable treat he'd been anticipating sinking his teeth
into.

She whirled away from him, attempting to run,
but it was useless. He was upon her in a second, spinning her
around to face him and slamming her against the kitchen counter.
She ignored the sudden jar to her body and pushed at his chest, but
he was so strong…so very strong. "Let me go, Tim." His fangs
lengthened. "Oh God, no!" She would have screamed but a deep
baritone voice, from somewhere behind Tim, halted her cries.

"I believe the lady asked you to let her
go."

Tim's body went rigid as if rigor mortis had
set in and turned his body to stone.

Curiosity proved too strong and she chanced a
peek around Tim's shoulder. A man with dark reddish brown hair and
eyes as green as a cats stood there in the archway of her kitchen
with a medieval crossbow aimed at Tim's back.

This time she did scream.

Chapter Four

Derek thought it would be a quick catch and
snatch for interrogation, but he hadn't expected Sloane McBride to
be fighting off her vampire boyfriend. "I said back away," he
warned Tim again.

Tim swung around, pushing Sloane away from
him as he lunged with a hiss.

This is why shooting first and making demands
later was usually his motto. He let the arrow fly, but it went wild
as Tim plowed into him, sending him flying into the wall. The arrow
slammed into the cupboard door above Sloane's head and she screamed
again. He really wished she wouldn't do that.

He lost his grip on the crossbow from the
tackle and it slid over the tile floor, bouncing off one of the
kitchen table's legs. Tim slammed him against the wall again. The
picture hanging above him fell to the ground and glass rained
around him like sharp razor blades.

Tim proved unnaturally strong even for a
newbie. He must have fed not long ago, but thank God for small
favors. He was still getting use to his new supercharged limbs that
had grown in size. All vampires—originals and hybrids went through
a growth spurt. They were taller and more muscular, and of course
the hybrids got spanking new set of fangs just like their creators.
Unfortunately, the hybrids also lost their sense of right and wrong
if they weren't fed blood immediately. They had no self-control
when it came to feeding. Blood was first and foremost the
priority.

"Stop it, Tim!" Sloane yelled. She obviously
had not grasped that the Tim she knew no longer existed. At least
not in the capacity she'd remembered. Derek pushed the heel of his
hand into the guy's jaw, trying to shove him away before fangs sunk
into his flesh. With his other hand he fumbled to find something to
hit the vamp with. He managed to get a hold of a glass shard. He
jabbed it into the side of Tim's neck. Tim leapt away like a spider
springing up its web, but he screamed like a wounded beast. Instead
of attacking again, he chose escape and dashed toward the front
door.

Derek leapt to his feet and lunged for his
crossbow. He loaded and rolled to get off a shot, but he was too
late. Tim was gone.

The dog in the backyard continued its
excessive barking and scratched at the door.

"Omigod, omigod!" Sloane kept repeating the
word as if she expected the Lord almighty to explain what had just
happened.

No such luck.

Derek stood, but remained cautious. He still
wasn't sure if she'd been infected and this was only a ruse.

"Let me see your teeth," he demanded of
her.

"What?" At least his demand gave her a new
lease on vocabulary.

"Teeth. Let me see them," he repeated and
gestured with his crossbow.

With obvious protest, she grinned like the
Cheshire cat from
Alice and Wonderland
. Then closed her
mouth again. No fangs. His gaze landed on her neck. A slight
discoloration of her skin and two distinctive pinpricks marred her
flesh.

"When did your boyfriend bite you?"

Her hand flew to her neck and her face
flushed crimson. "I need you to leave," she demanded and edged away
from him.

He was torn. He could lower his weapon and
make nice, but she'd been bitten. She was infected.

But she was fighting off Tim.

She hadn't been under his command.

She didn't have fangs.

He went with his instinct and cautiously
lowered the weapon, but kept it engaged to fire. "Tim is…" Heck,
there was no way to sugarcoat this. "He's a vampire."

She laughed at him, but it was a nervous
chortle brought on by fear and uncertainty. "So he claimed. I'm
guessing delusional is catchy."

"You think so?" She didn't recognize him. He
wasn't sure if he should be offended or grateful. He'd been a
skinny teen when he met her in high school, and they did more
kissing than talking. "You were here. Your boyfriend has fangs and
if I'm not mistaken, he bit you. I'm assuming this is not normal
behavior for him."

"He hasn't been feeling well," she defended
Tim's actions.

Denial always came first. "Yeah, and how are
you feeling?"

She licked her lips then pursed them as she
eyed him with suspicion. "If he's contagious, I need to see a
doctor," she said in confusion and tears sprung to her eyes, making
them turn more blue than grey. Her hands shook as if she were
strung out and in need of a good fix.

"Oh, you're good," he drawled.

"What?"

"All innocent and with tears even." Derek
aimed his crossbow at her chest. He couldn't go soft just because
she looked hot in her black-laced shirt that was just short enough
to show a bit of skin at her midriff, and damn it if the woman
didn't have the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen. He'd been a
sucker for those eyes in high school and it proved no different
now.

"Leave me alone," she cried and bolted for
the back door. She yanked it open and the dog came flying in like
an avenging angel.

"Down boy," Derek ordered. He didn't want to
hurt the dog, but if it came to protecting his life, he would do
what he had to do.

"Lad! No! Sit!" Sloane yelled the commands,
which further confused Derek. Lad halted his approach, sitting on
his haunches with a grunt and long drawn out whine.

Derek lowered his weapon again, tucking it
under one arm. Sloane had style. He clapped his hands in slow
motion. "I bet your victims fell for your charms, too." He had to
keep her talking until backup showed up. He'd made a call the
minute she pulled into her driveway. Wade and Axel were on their
way here.

"What are you talking about?" Her brows
furrowed. "What victims?"

He almost believed her. "Mr. Wilkins, Mrs.
Wilkins…Kylie," he named just to gage her reaction, give him some
clue if she knew what was going on with Tim.

"What happened to Tim's family? What are you
talking about?"

"You and your boyfriend ripped their throats
out."

All color drained from her face, making her
appear more ghostlike than like a potential vampire. "Noooo! You're
lying," she screamed at him. "Why would you say something so
horrible?"

"You took out each member one by one," he
said.

"No." She shook her head.

"For God's sake, Kylie was only a child," he
continued without mercy.

Sloane closed her eyes and covered her ears.
"Stop with your lies!"

He moved then, fast, slamming the back door
closed with his foot and grabbing hold of her, yanking her arms
down so she'd have to hear him. "You ripped the child apart,
devoured her like an appetizer."

The dog had moved behind him and growled, but
Derek ignored it. If the lab were going to attack, it would have
done so already.

"Shut up!" she shouted. "That's not true."
Sloane hissed and her eyes turned red. The telltale sign he'd been
looking for. Derek threw her against the wall and pressed the
crossbow at her chest, but instead of her attacking him, she
panicked. Her arms raised in front of her. "Please…please, don't
hurt me."

He hesitated. Then the truth of it slammed
into him like a sledgehammer. His arm lowered. "You truly don't
know what you are, do you?" he said more for his benefit than for
her to answer him.

She cautiously lowered her hands and met his
gaze. Her eyes had resumed the beautiful blue shade once more.

"Damn." He slid his hand through his hair.
How could she control the urge? Yet she had. She could have gone
for his throat, but she just curled into a ball.
It could be a
trick. A damn good one.
He reminded himself, but he didn't heed
his own warnings. He approached her and she scooted away from him.
"When were you turned?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He tried a different approach. "When did Tim
bite you?" he demanded of her again.

Tears fell, and she sniffled as she brushed
them away. "What difference does it make?"

"Just answer the question."

"Tim came to my house and … and …"

"Go on."

"Please, just leave me alone."

"Honey, I can't and if you don't start
answering my questions, I promise, you will not like what I'll have
to do to you." She tried to look away, but he wouldn't let her. He
grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Start from the
beginning and tell me what led up to your boyfriend giving you one
heck of a hickey."

She jerked out of his grip. "He's been acting
strange."

"How?"

"I don't know, like he was high or something,
just weird." Her gaze shifted to him and he would bet he was added
to her list of weird. "Do I know you?" she asked, her eyes
narrowing as she assessed him with new interest.

"Just stick to the storytelling." He didn't
need her remembering who he was right now.

Anger sparked her eyes at his demand. "Tim
climbed up my trellis and knocked on my bedroom window. I opened it
and gave him hell for it, too. He could have fallen and broken his
neck."

"Did you invite him in?"

She just stared at him.

"Did you invite him in?" he repeated.

She nodded. He watched her closely as she
recalled that night. Her finely shaped brows furrowed. "He attacked
me. The jerk actually bit me." She touched her neck as if it still
felt tender. "And tonight, he told me we would be gods. Live
forever," she whispered, her brows furrowing into a deep frown.

Damn if she wasn't telling the truth. Sloane
McBride had been bitten, but she didn't know what that entailed.
She hadn't changed yet. She was only infected.

She leaned forward clutching her stomach. "I
don't feel so good."

He'd bet since her lovely boyfriend hadn't
had time to give her the final bite to change her. Without the last
bite, her body would weaken and she'd become feverish until she
faded away. There was no cure and no going back to the way things
were once bitten by a Nosferatu. By all means, it would be kinder
if he killed her now. He palmed his dagger from his sleeve, but
then she peered at him with those baby blues. "God, I'm going to
regret this. Come on." He grabbed her arm, but she yanked free of
his grip.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. I've
watched crime shows. Going with you is death."

He chuckled. "Honey, any other time I might
agree, but right now I'm the only one standing between you and a
stake through the heart.

Just then the teapot whistled its long drawn
out trill, distracting him for a split second, but it was long
enough for Sloane to slam something into the side of his head. It
fell to the floor, the porcelain shattering into pieces. The handle
still survived, telling him she used a coffee cup for her choice of
weapon.

"Dammit!" He riveted toward her and swayed on
his feet. He caught a glimpse of Sloane as she darted outside with
her lab following close behind. He cursed under his breath and went
after her.

Chapter Five

Sloane sprinted to her back gate, cursing
that it had a lock on it. It was supposed to keep intruders out,
but she never anticipated the intruder would already be inside. Now
she was trapped with the trespasser who sported a crossbow and
dagger. "I'm not going to die," she said to no one in particular,
but saying the words out loud bolstered her courage. She had
seconds to spare before the guy would be on her. He didn't strike
her as a man who would give up so readily and just leave because
she hit him with a coffee mug. Despite her stomach gurgling in
protest to the stress, the adrenalin rush pushed her along.

Lad caught up with her as her hands fumbled
with the lock. It fell open, surprising her that it wasn't locked
after all, but she didn't have time to think about it. She threw
the lock on the ground. Her hand held the handle, but before she
could unlatch it, she was tackled to the ground.

She struggled and managed to knee her captor.
She was rewarded with a grunt, but the guy's arms were made of iron
and his grip didn't falter.

"Let me go," she demanded.

"Derek?" another man's voice called from the
direction of the house.