UNCONTROLLED BURN (10 page)

Pushing through the kitchen doors, she set her slip on the stainless counter with the other two. “Order for table four,” she mumbled.

Chris turned from the grill and caught her wrist, stopping her escape. “Hey, you okay? You don’t look very good.”

“Yeah, fine.” She forced a tremulous smile. “It was just a long morning in the cellars.”

He let go of her hand, wiping his palms down his greasy apron. “Yeah, sorry about that.” Chris blushed. “I got held up at the university trying to get my fall semester straightened out.”

“Really, it’s not a problem. I didn’t mean—”

“No. Yeah. I mean Reese was here to help.”

“Seriously, Chris. Not a problem.” Alex circled her fingers at her temples, trying to counter the pressure building there. “I’m more worried about Glenn. It’s not like him to be so late. I can’t imagine what’s keeping him today.”

“He called a little while ago. He’s been held up doing personal stuff. He’s not sure when he’ll get in.” Chris smiled and shrugged. “Seems everyone’s running late today.”

The mother of all cramps twisted her gut, stealing her breath and doubling her over.

“Shit, Alex. You aren’t all right.” Chris grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her from completely falling to the floor. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Hey, guys.” Katie chose that moment to breeze through the back door.

“Grab the stool in the corner,” Chris said.

“I’m fine. Really.” Alex forced her body upright. “Hey, Katie. Thanks for coming in.”

“No problem.” Katie’s look of confusion would have been comical if Alex was finding anything amusing about her current situation.

“There’re only a few customers. Glenn’s running late.” The words tripped across Chris’s tongue in staccato bursts. “Orders are nearly ready. We need you to run the bar and tables until he gets here. Obviously Alex isn’t feeling well. Just—”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake I’m fine.” Alex pushed away from Chris, hoping her knees would hold her up. “Just woman stuff.”

“I hear you on that, sister.” Katie grabbed an apron and headed out of the kitchen.

Chris’s face scrunched in doubt. “That’s bullshit. I’ve watched you dragging your ass around here all afternoon.
And
you called Katie in. It’s pretty bad when you call in reinforcements. What’s really going on?”

Damn if she knew.

“I guess the professor’s death is affecting me more than I thought. I didn’t sleep well last night and I think it’s catching up with me.” She held his gaze, hoping Chris couldn’t see the deception in her eyes. “I’m not sure who’s going to make the funeral arrangements and—” Another cramp stabbed through her gut, making her gasp and bringing tears to her eyes.

Chris misunderstood. “Hey, now, we’re all here for you.” He reached out as if to hug her, hesitated, and settled for rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms. “I know how much the professor meant to you. We’re all here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Yes, she did.
“Thanks, friend.” She stepped out his reach and forced another smile. “Now that Katie’s here, I’m just going to go downstairs and finish up the bookkeeping and then head out myself. I guess I need a night off as well.” Alex didn’t even bother to take off her apron before running for the refuge of the cellar, grateful that Chris didn’t follow. Alone time was good.

Unlocking the door to the wine cellar, she let the damp, cool air settle around her. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since she’d been with the professor and already her body was screaming for the one thing she couldn’t give it—sustenance.

Dragging herself into the cask room, Alex took small, shallow breaths, working to keep her stomach from heaving as she grabbed a bottle of blood wine and a small measuring beaker from the shelf. Returning to her office, she fell heavily in her chair, her knees shaky and weak. With trembling hands, she grabbed a half dozen saltine crackers from her drawer, unwrapped them and crumbled them into the beaker. She poured the blood wine over them, holding her breath as she stirred the concoction with her finger.

Alex had no idea if this would work, but without the professor to guide her, she was running out of ideas of what to do for her starving body. Too far from one world and not close enough to the other, she prayed this solution would at least ease the cramping. Pinching her nose, she forced herself to swallow the cracker mixture. She gagged twice before managing to get it all down.

Heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs.

She shoved the beaker into the drawer with the crackers, corked the wine, and cleaned the crimson evidence from her lips. “I’m here in the office.”

“I was just checking to see how you’re feeling.” Chris stood in the doorway, disappointment shadowing his face. “I don’t know why you drink that stuff.” He walked to her in slow, measured steps. “It goes against your nature.” He looked down at her as he brushed his thumb across her lips, his gaze heavy with judgment. “You’re losing weight and your skin is so pale. The wine isn’t enough for any vampire. You need more nourishment.”

Chris viewed immortality with all the arrogance of youth. Fate may have pulled him into the suspended time warp of the vampire world nearly a decade ago, but unlike her—he celebrated every moment of his new found lease on life. A vampire in search of his own kind, he’d come to South Kenton, like so many others over the years, seeking Glenn’s wisdom and counsel. Glenn had happily welcomed him into the O’Malleys family. And up until a few months ago, Chris had been happy to help with the wine business; bottling and distributing, and helping vamps through the transition from human blood to the wine.

But something had changed. Oh, he still took his weekly two bottles of blood wine as scheduled, but something told Alex he wasn’t living off it. She had no hard evidence, just subtle changes in the man’s behavior and attitude. An air of superiority surrounded him like a winter coat. And he seemed to find more and more excuses not to help here in the cellar.

“Nothing to say for yourself? Not going to deny that perhaps you were wrong?” Chris said.

“About the wine?”

“What a stupid name for your concoction.” He hauled her to her feet so quickly the room spun in dizzying patterns. “Look at you. You’re pathetic, Alex. Standing there unwilling to admit your little experiment isn’t working. It’s an abomination and an insult to our race.”

“No that’s—”

“Drink from me. Feel the power of my blood coursing through you.” Tipping his head to the side, Chris offered his throat. At the sight of his throbbing artery her gag reflex took over and she drive heaved several times. Chris pushed her away so quickly her knees gave way and she crumpled back into the office chair. “Seriously? I’m
that
repulsive?”

She reached for his arm, but he pulled it out of her reach. “No, it’s not like that. It’s so complicated and—”

“Don’t bother explaining.” He held his hands up and pushed at the air. “I get it. I’m not good enough for you. I’m too new. You like ‘em with a century or two of experience under their belt.”

“What? No. That’s not it all.” She tried to stand, but another wave of nausea swept over her heated skin, keeping her rooted to the chair. Dropping her face in her hands, she pressed the heels of her palms against her eyelids, trying to bring the fuzzy edges of her vision back into focus. Tried to keep her chaotic thoughts moving in the right direction. “It’s not you. There’s nothing wrong with you. I just I can’t. I—”

“Alex, stop. Just stop. You don’t owe me anything. And you know what?” He began untying the strings of the apron hanging around his hips. “I don’t owe you and Glenn a goddamn thing either.” He threw the apron on the floor. “I can’t work for a fucking holier-than-thou vampire who thinks she’s better than the rest of us. Consider this my notice.”

The overly cheerful notes of Alex’s ringtone cut through his anger.

“No, please don’t leave like this. Let me—”

“Answer the phone, Alex. No doubt it’s one of the chosen you’re
willing
to help.” Chris stormed out of the office. “Fuck you. And fuck your wine.”

How the hell was she going to make that better? Not only was Chris a great short order cook, he’d become one of her true friends. Not that friendships would matter in another day or two, but she owed it to Glenn to keep Chris from quitting—especially on her account.

The final strains of her ringtone sang. Alex was too rung out and too overwhelmed with the mess she’d made of everything that she didn’t bother to look at the number before she answered. “Hello, this is Alex.”

“Now! I need you now!”

The desperate words sounded like they’d been scraped over sandpaper. “Who is this?”

“John Sampson. Who the fuck do you think it is? I need to see you.” His words were slurred with anger and something else that raised the hair on her arms. “The professor’s death has caused all sorts of problems.”

“I know.”

“What’re you going to do about it?”

“Why would I—”

“Because you worked with him. I’m sure he shared everything with you. And now I’ve got a problem and I suspect you’ve got the solution!”

Alex wished the professor hadn’t been so protective. Worried for her safety, the man hadn’t shared any of his secrets with her. Without any idea how to save herself, she wondered how many other vampires like John would be looking to her for help. Her head fell hard on her desk. Tired. She was so freakin’ tired. “I’m working on it. I’ll be in touch when something—”

“Now! I’m on my way to the tavern.”

“No.” She sat up straight, panic gripping her throat. He couldn’t come here and possibly put humans in danger. She desperately needed Glenn. Confessing everything to him hadn’t been in her plans, but she was beginning to think she’d need his wisdom to sort through the mess the professor’s death had left. “Meet me at Royal Mills. We can talk in my apartment.”

He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that echoed with evil. “No, I think I’ll just go to Glenn’s. Perhaps it’s time to bring him in on this.”

“Glenn already knows.”

“Right.” John dragged out the word. “And when I die, I’m going to heaven.” She heard him gasp in pain, his labored breathing accentuated by moans. “Quit fucking lying! Thirty minutes. Not a second more, Alexandra. Or so help me, I’ll stand on the top of Glenn’s barn and announce to the world everything you’ve done!”

“John, please be—”

“Glenn’s farm …” he sucked in a great gulp of air through clenched teeth. “Thirty minutes.” He clicked off the line before she could respond.

Alex wasn’t sure she could do this anymore. She’d only wanted her life back, not to carry the hopes of so many on her shoulders.

How many times would this scene play out before she found a way to save them all? Alex pulled the cork out of the wine bottle and forced herself to swallow several mouthfuls of blood wine, praying her body would accept enough of it to get her through this night.

Pushing out of the chair, she stood, every muscle in her body screaming in protest. Alex wasn’t sure she had the energy to come up with more lies. She had to lie to her staff about Chris. Lie about where she was headed. Lie to Glenn when he asked why she’d left. And lie to John about how she could save him.

Funny thing those lies—when you repeated them enough—you began believing them.

Chapter Five

Despite staying in bed for several hours, sleep had been an elusive veil Hope hadn’t been able to capture. Tossing restless through dreams filled with fires and warped images of Alex, she’d finally given up and soaked in a tub of lavender-scented bubbles. Even that, and a glass of Chardonnay, hadn’t quelled the uneasiness in her gut.

She’d only been in South Kenton a couple of years, but had been a reporter since her first Barbie sat down with Ken and grilled him on his relationship with Midge. Hope had started a newspaper in middle school and uncovered the ham salad vs spam fiasco in the cafeteria. Her love of justice in journalism continued through high school with an exposé of sports teams’ budgets. It hadn’t slowed down in college where she’d garnered a
Mark of Excellenc
e award for standing up to the university in a series of articles regarding hiring/firing practices. So, yeah, Hope knew a thing or two about guilt and innocence. And there was something about what she’d uncovered that was niggling at her psyche, and it had nothing to do with Alex being her best friend.

Hope had had every intention of setting it right when she’d shown up at the tavern to talk with Alex. Only, she’d gotten to the front door just in time to see Alex peeling out of the back parking lot like a madwoman, gravel spewing from her tires, blind to everything in front of her—including Hope.

That had been nearly half an hour ago.

Hope had jumped back in her car and followed her friend at a reckless speed, careening over the back roads of South Kenton as if the devil himself were chasing them. So why was she sitting in her VW Bug in a shadowed corner of Glenn’s driveway, spying on Alex from afar?
Fear
. Few people ran from the truth, but the guilty were known for fast escapes and covering tracks. Hard to imagine it wasn’t secrets that had Alex hiding her black Honda in the deep shadows beside the barn.