Biting Nixie (24 page)

“Bite me.” I yanked his head into to my neck. Felt his breath steam my throat. “Bite me!”

“Nixie, no—”

“Bite me now!” I arched back hard, thrusting my throat into the pearl of his fangs. My blood rushed to meet them, kissing them with fluid red lust. I moaned and shuddered on the brink of a huge orgasm.

Julian
roared
. His mouth opened like a snake unhinging. He skewered my throat in a bite so powerful my eyes flew open and my entire body unfurled hard against the wall.

Forget bombs bursting in air. Forget lightning sizzling through the sky. Forget geysers of water and steam blasting out of the earth. This was so beyond.

I climaxed like a bullet train. Like a subway rocketing through deep, dark tunnels. Like running face first into a cliff at ninety miles an hour. The power of it was so far beyond anything I'd ever experienced, it destroyed me. Tore me in half, ripped out my heart, and smashed me back together.

And as Julian gushed and gushed into me, I realized with awful clarity that I would never be whole again.

Then I passed out.

 

 

 

I woke facing a bright yellow wall decorated with cheerful rainbows and flowers. The
scrape-scrape
of a clock sounded from somewhere. At first I thought I was in a hospital, but I lay in a recliner, not a bed. And the woman who bustled in wasn't a nurse. “Feeling better, girl?” My friend Twyla Tafel's cocoa brown eyes watched me with concern.

“Twyla? The mayor said you were going to your sister's. What are you doing here?” I tried to sit up but felt weak as a puppy. Twyla put a hand to my shoulder, held me down with astonishing ease. I closed my eyes. “And where, BTW, is here?”

“Blood Center. I was on my way to my sister's when I got the call. Came right over.”

The reason I was at the Blood Center was obvious, once I saw the needle in my arm. “What call?”

“Mr. Hottie Attorney. Said to come over right away, so I hustled my bootie right along.”

“Julian? Where is he?” I looked around. The rainbows and flowers were actually only along one wall. The other three were concrete, two lined with refrigeration units.

“He took off. Something about a fight. So it's
Julian
now? Not Mr. Pricey Prude? Not the Lewtz at Law?”

Julian was anything but prudish, at least in the important things. And I'd found out he wasn't getting any of the money we raised. But I didn't know how much Twyla knew, so I only said, “Did he say what kind of fight? Or where?”

“No. Only that I was to keep you from following. He was quite insistent. Kinda scary about it.” Twyla shivered. “That boy's got sharp teeth.”

I tried sitting up again. This time I didn't feel so weak. “But Julian may be in trouble. I have to go. Where's my bazooka?”

“Your
what
?” Twyla's fine brows knit together. “Since when do you have a bazooka?”

“Uh, long story. Have you seen it?”

“No,” Twyla said at the same time I saw it behind her. She glanced back. “And even if I had, sexy and straight took the ammo.”

“Shizzle. Twyla, could you do me a favor? Could you call Bruno Braun, and—”

“No. No way, José.
Nein
,
nicht
, not,
nyet
, never, uh-uh.” Twyla put up a long-nailed hand, today enameled in stop-sign red. “I know what you're thinking. And ain't no way. Leet lawman would have my ass on a platter if I let you one step out of this building, much less following him to that fight.”

I sighed. “Fine. Can I at least make a phone call?” Digging in the pocket of my pants, I pulled out my cell phone.

“I guess. Lawboy went all testosterone protective over you leaving, not you calling.”

That was Julian. “Yeah. He thinks I'm a kid.” I hit Elena's speed dial.

“No way, girl. I saw him look at you. No way that man thinks you're a child.”

Thinking about Julian looking at me, I got hot. “Then why won't he let me help him fight?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe because he's got fifteen inches and a hundred fifty pounds on you?” Twyla rolled her eyes. I rolled mine back.

My call to Elena went over into voicemail. Which meant she was probably at the fight too. With Bo no doubt. “At least tell me where Julian is. I know that you know. You know everything. I promise not to leave.” In a low voice I added, “Before I'm ready.”

“I heard that,” Twyla said. “So, yes, I know, and no, I'm not telling.”

“Come on, Twyla. Julian might need help.”

“I'll be the one needing major help if he finds out I told.”

“C'mon, Twyla. You owe me.” When she tried to look innocent I hit her with, “I know you're the one who set the mayor on me, you haas.”

She had the grace to blush.

“I vowed revenge, but if you tell me where Julian is, I'll consider us even. But if you don't—”

“All right, all right! It might be okay if you guess.”

“I can live with that.” Where would Julian, Bo, and Elena be? Well, where would a vampire fight be? The last one had been outside of the Roller-Blayd factory. My thoughts were accompanied by the
scrape-scrape
of the clock. I pointed at the bag of blood draining into me. “How long until this is done?” I frowned. “And why am I not at the hospital?”

Twyla crossed her arms and leaned against a rainbow. “Well, smarty, why do you think you're not at the hospital?”

“I guess because it was too far away from my parents'. And…because the Blood Center is closer to the fight!”
Scrape-scrape
went the clock.

“Now your wetware's working.”

“So how long until I'm done?” I looked around for the clock. It occurred to me that clocks went
tick-tick
, not
scrape-scrape
.

“Another fifteen minutes. You didn't need a full unit. But your Julian wanted you to rest after.”

“Like that'll happen.”
Scrape-scrape
. “Do you hear that?” Such an odd-sounding clock. Especially when there was
no clock in the room at all
. “What
is
that?”

“What?” Twyla cocked her head. There was only silence.

Then—
scrape-scrape
. “That,” I said.

Twyla frowned. “Sounds like mice.”

“Like mice digging,” I agreed.

“Huh. I'll have to call pest control when I get back.”

“Except—” I strained my ears. “Don't mice go
scritch-scritch
instead of
scrape-scrape
?”

“Maybe they're using tiny shovels,” Twyla said.

“Ri-ight.” I wondered how many vampires Julian and company were fighting this time. Wondered if I'd get there in time. Wondered, if I did get there in time, whether bazookas were point-and-click. Bruno hadn't left any instructions. And Julian had taken the ammunition. Hopefully Elena's ammo would fit. “Are you going to pull this thing out of me when the time comes, or is there a nurse around?”

Twyla pushed off the wall to come sit in the chair next to my recliner. “I am. Don't worry, Lawboy showed me how. He's the one who fixed you up, you know. I was pretty impressed, how efficient he was.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it's a hobby of his.”

“Medicine?”

“No, blood.” I looked around. Boxes sat on pallets. Refrigerators hummed. It looked more like a warehouse than a hospital. “Do they usually do transfusions at the Blood Center?”

“I don't know. They must, though, right? I mean, they have the equipment.” Twyla indicated bag and pump. “That looks like the last of it.” She unhooked me.

But when I tried to get up, she
sat
on me. “Let me go!” Only it came out more like
mumph miggle mumph
.

“Nuh-uh. Hunkalicious would take a bite out of me if you followed him.” Twyla sounded wary. If only she knew how incredibly orgasmic Julian's bite was, she'd be spritzing herself with barbeque sauce.

“Not…going to follow…him,” I gasped.

“Promise?”

“Yes,” I said with the last of my oxygen. She got off. I sucked in a bushel of air.

I had told her the truth. I wasn't going to
follow
Julian.

I knew where he was. So I was going to go straight to him.

Chapter Nineteen

But when I got to the corner of Fifth and Grant, there was no crowd of ravening freaks. No bodies flopping heartless to the ground. No heads rejoining in a creepy-weird dance of rebirth.

Instead, a suspicious orange glow came from the east. I trotted toward it. As I got closer, I could see the orange halo was shot through with plumes of black smoke.

Shouldering my bazooka, I ran. It felt like miles. But only half a block further on I got a clear view. I screeched to a halt.

Kalten's Roller Skating Rink was nothing but a big camp fire.

If there'd been a fight, it was long over. Stunned, I stumbled closer, wondering where Julian and Elena were. Wondering if they were okay. Wondering where the hell I'd stage my bands now. As I stood mired in my stupidity, flames began licking the building's windows.

“Nixie! Don't go any closer.” A hand clasped my shoulder, long-fingered and pale. “It's dangerous.”

I turned. Behind me was Bart Bleistift. His nice boyish face was concerned. And strangely, a little wary.

“Bart? What are you doing here?” The wary expression, coupled with the time of night, made me suspicious. Butler had said Bart wasn't a vampire, but who else would be out so late?

I mentally smacked myself. Did I think everyone in the world was a closet bloodsucker? I was getting way too vamparanoid.

“I was walking home,” Bart said. “Working late.”

See? I told myself. Totally non-weird explanation. “Big case?”

“Some meetings that took all afternoon. Then I had to finish up a few things.” Bart smiled his nice boyish smile, and I felt better.

He threaded his arm through mine. “So, how about I walk you home?” He gave me a saucy wink.

The wink implied I'd get laid. If Bart had asked me last night, I'd have shouted yippy. Since then I'd had deal-breaker sex with Julian. I knew until that memory faded, no one else could compare.

Of course, the memory of sex with Julian might
never
fade, but I didn't want to consider that.

“Some other time.” I slipped loose and started toward the fire. Bo and Elena might have been fighting here. Julian might have been fighting here. I wanted to make sure they were not lying helpless nearby.

“Nixie, wait.” Bart grabbed my arm, swung me around like a yo-yo. “You do
not
want to get any closer.” He glanced toward Kalten's, then back at me. His stare was hard, like blue marbles. “You shouldn't even be
here
!”

The music in his voice was wrong. The emphasis should have been on “be”, as in “You shouldn't even
be
here.” But it wasn't, meaning… “What's wrong with
here
?”

It was hard to tell in the red glow, but I think he flushed. “Alone, I mean. At night. And, um, near a fire.” He kept hold of my arm.

“Bart, I'll be fine. I just want to make sure no one needs help.” I tried to tug away but he was strong.

“The cops'll handle it, Nixie. Look, I'm going your direction. Let me walk you home.” Bart started dragging me northeast, toward my parents.

“I don't live that way!” Exasperated, I tried one more time to pull away. Bart wouldn't let go. So I gave him a twist and a hard yank.

“Hey!” He rubbed his wrist. “You didn't have to do that.”

“Then let go, next time I ask.” I started toward the fire, felt Bart reach for me again.

So I drew the bazooka. It wasn't loaded, but even an empty bazooka pointed at your chest makes you stop and think.

“What the hell?” St. Bart said.

“Leave me alone.” I spoke each word clearly. “Do not touch me again.”

“Okay, okay.” Bart raised both hands, backed off. “Just don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Warn me about—?”

An explosion rocked the street. I spun. Flames belched from every orifice of the Kalten, window and door. Glass burst onto the street. I put up one arm to shield my face. Heat roared around me.

I whirled back. “How the hell did you know that was going to—”

But Bart was gone.

 

 

 

“So when did you find out about Bo? When he bit you on your wedding night?”

Elena and I were eating breakfast at the Caffeine Café. It was Tuesday morning, and she'd just gotten off shift. I played with my scone, chocolate chip this time (warmed with butter). I was too unsettled to eat. The incident with Bart was still on my mind. But this breakfast was about finally getting the 411 on vampires. And about a very huge apology from my best friend because she had lied to me and made me feel like an idiot.

Had I known what the future held, I would have at least tried to choke something down.

“I knew sooner than that.” Elena smiled slightly. “I suspected long before, but didn't want to believe it.”

“Come on. You must have known something was up when Bo's love-nips turned into real bites.” Elena's smile widened and her eyes sparkled naughtily. Oops. Apparently Julian wasn't the only maestro at fangilingus. “Er, I meant neck. Neck bites.”

“Of course you did. Look, if it's any consolation, I was as much in the dark as you in the beginning.”

“Consolation? Hardly.
Your
best friend wasn't in on the secret.”

“My sister was.”

“You deliberately misled me! After that first attack on Julian and me, you said I was imagining the blood. Imagining things. Like I was Bruno, or something.”

“Actually, I said ‘I'm
not
saying you're imagining things.'”

“Whatever. I felt like an ID-ten-T.”