Broken Heart 05 Over My Dead Body (10 page)

Brady appeared in the doorway, Glory clinging to his back, her small face alight with joy. Flet hovered about Glory, not looking particularly thrilled that his charge was so enamored with Brady.

Brady’s gaze took in everything, from my long hair to my pale pink toes. His expression was worth every bit of time I’d taken with my appearance. He mouthed the word “Wow!” and his eyes went all dark and hot.

My stomach knotted. Oh, baby. I did a little curtsy, smiling up at him.

“Hello, Brady,” said Gran. “Didja hear the good news?”

I hadn’t called him because I figured I could tell him everything in person.

“Not yet,” said Brady. “You look gorgeous as usual, Elaine.”

She turned and waggled a spatula, her wrinkled face going red. “Smooth talker. Glory, girl, leave the man alone, and come help me with the biscuits.”

Glory scuttled off his back and skipped to her grandmother. In her hand, she clutched a daisy. Carefully, she put her flower aside and dragged the step stool to the sink, where she washed her hands. Then she used her foot to push the stool next to her grandmother and stood on it, leaning down to peer into the mixing bowl.

Brady had given my daughter a flower. My heart squeezed. The man was so thoughtful. Something I would’ve never believed when I met him in February.

“I have something for you.” Brady left the kitchen briefly and returned with two bunches of flowers. One he handed to my grandmother, and the other to me.

“They’re beautiful,” I said. Warm fuzzies pummeled me until I felt all toasty and cottony. I got vases out from underneath the sink then filled them with water.

“Thank you, Brady,” said Gran as she inhaled the fragrant bunch of wildflowers. “They smell wonderful.”

I arranged the plants on the table, which drew Brady’s attention to the number of settings. His eyebrows winged upward. “You expecting more company?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Flet had been drawn to the flowers. He flew over them again and again and gold dust fell onto them. They brightened, straightening up in the vases. Whoa.

With Glory and Gran busy making biscuits, and Flet distracted by the flowers, I figured it was a good time to duck out. I took Brady’s hand and led him out the back door. On one end of the huge enclosed porch were Gran’s lemon trees, and on the other, a large swing that I had built and tethered myself.

We sat down, and I told him about how Flet had granted the wish, thus allowing vampires to eat again, while at the same time taking away my ability to make another wish. All because he was annoyed with me.

Brady shook his head. “Hotheaded little bastard.”

“Well, he did seem genuinely sorry about what he’d done.”

“Being sorry doesn’t fix the situation.”

“There is no fixing the situation. There’s only looking at the bright side of what’s been done.”

Brady smiled. “You are an optimist.”

Hah. If he only knew.

We sat hip to hip. The warmth of Brady’s thigh filtered through my dress and scuttled up my leg. His arm was draped around my shoulders.

Crickets chirped. The breeze rustled the wind chimes dangling around the perimeter of the porch. Gran had a real thing about wind chimes; she couldn’t see, so she wanted to enjoy every sense she had left.

“You look so beautiful,” Brady said.

Pleased by his compliment, I looked up at him. He licked his lips, his eyes dark with the same longing I’d seen earlier.

“What? I’m not equally fabulous in my overalls and tennis shoes?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m not getting caught in that girl trap.” His fingers drifted across my cheek. “Every time I see you, I’m struck breathless by how pretty you are.”

“Good answer,” I said.

He kissed me gently, ever Mr. Patience. Seeing as how he’d walloped me last night with that mouth of his, I figured I’d try a little payback. Nervous but determined, I moved my lips down his jaw.

He shuddered.

Wow. Since I was being all Miss Brave, I put my legs over his. Brady called me on that bet, then anted up by pulling me onto his lap. Now I was cradled under his jaw, my shoulder pressed into the crook of his arm, and my palm flattened on his chest. His heart revved, and if that wasn’t evidence enough of his arousal, the jeans-clad erection snuggled against my thigh sure enough was.

“Simone,” he whispered into my hair.

I kissed his jaw, slid my tongue along its curve, and then went down, lower, to taste his neck. He smelled delicious. Beneath my lips his carotid artery pulsed. Life. Blood. Mmm. I was so hungry. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, no amount of mashed potatoes in the world could ever satisfy me. Not like the exquisite delight that was a human’s blood.

This moment right here, the moment when my fangs descended, the moment my inner beast rose and sniffed, licked, wanted . . . yeah, this was when I felt most like a vampire.

“Simone,” murmured Brady. His hand tangled in my hair.

I was the seductress. The predator. Pleasure rushed through me. Under the hand I had pressed against his chest, his heart beat frantically for me. I abandoned that—it reminded me of his humanity—and grasped the other side of his neck. He willingly angled it to the side.

I kissed the tender spot where the artery pulsed in invitation. Then I flicked my tongue across it.

Brady moaned.

I did, too. Hunger gnawed at me. And Brady seemed willing enough. And though I’d only ever drunk from two people (Master Velthur and my donor, Rick), I wanted to literally taste this man. This wonderful, sexy, delicious man.

I clutched him, my nails raking the skin as I sank my fangs into Brady’s succulent neck.

From the field journal of Cpl. Braddock Linden Hayes

17 JUNE 98

Finished our first mission tonight. It’s goddamned stupid to write down any of the details—“plausible deniability” is our liaison’s favorite fucking phrase. But the good thing about working in such a tech-heavy unit is that no one worries about paper and pen. If it’s not digital, they don’t give a crap. No one would believe the kind of weaponry, shields, and technology we have. All that UFO crap the nut jobs talked about at Roswell ? I’ve seen the saucer and damn, it’s badass. What I find really hard to believe is how anyone on Earth is smart enough to reverse engineer. Yeah. Think about that one for a minute.

The mission went off without a hitch, but it felt wrong. We were driven to the remote location. Our vehicle was blacked out, and we arrived in a densely wooded area. We were given the coordinates and the go-ahead. The targets did not expect us. Five men, three women. Our Invisi-shields protected us and sure as hell confused the targets.

After we finished the mission, we destroyed the bodies and their campsite. As instructed, we took the infant. The little guy didn’t look well. He didn’t even cry. I don’t know what they wanted with him. My hope is that one of the bastards I work for has a heart and plans to relocate the child.

Goddamn it! If those people were paraterrorists, I’ll eat a whole pot of Henneman’s diarrhea-special chili. They moved fast and they were strong. They sensed us even though they couldn’t see us. Lycanthropes. But only one of them shifted—the female who protected the baby. The rest had to be Roma, cousins of the full-bloods and only able to shift during full moons. What I don’t get is why a full-blood was hanging out with Roma. They’re not exactly tolerant of each other—at least not according to the intel we received.

I don’t feel right about what happened. We killed a goddamn mother! I want to puke out my guts. It didn’t matter that she was a lycan. Shayla would hate what I did, what I’ve become. Hell, I hate me right now.

The other men in my unit haven’t said anything. We’re not a touchy-feely bunch, for Christ’s sake. We know how it works. We do our jobs; we keep our mouths shut. And we never, ever tell anyone who we are or what we do.

And we sure as shit don’t keep diaries.

“Simone! No!” Brady wrenched away from me. He startled me so badly, I fell off the swing. Hurt stabbed me, literally, as my ass hit the porch, and emotionally as I faced Brady’s abrupt rejection. I stared up at him with wide eyes, my pride wounded.

“Don’t do that. Not ever.” He wiped his neck, then drew his hand away and stared at the blood. He went white. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

Guilt flooded me. Did he have a thing about blood? Him? A big, tough soldier? It didn’t make any sense.

“It heals,” I said, my voice quivering. “It won’t leave a scar.”

“You can’t drink from me. Do you understand?”

Mortified, I nodded. Fear seized my voice, my ability to move. I’d heard that same darkness in Jacob’s tone, right before he hurt me. I wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry. What had I done? I just snacked on Brady, that’s what. I’d assumed he was okay with me feeding on him, which was stupid. Embarrassment broiled me.

Brady surged to his feet, then leaned down. I flinched and turned my face away.

“Simone?”

All my earlier bravado (Seductress? Predator? Hah!) was gone. “I’m fine,” I said, staring at the grit-covered boards on which I sat. Gran swept the porch every evening, but it was difficult to keep it clean. “You better go wash your hands.”

“I’m not leaving you on the floor.” He squatted next to me. I was grateful he didn’t try to touch me. He sounded soothing now, his manner gentled. “I’m sorry you fell. I’m sorry I . . . overreacted.”

“I said it’s fine.”

“Simone,” he said softly. “Forgive me.”

I finally glanced at him and saw how he was looking at me. Sincerely. With concern. He seemed to know that I didn’t want him to get too close. Would I ever trust again? How much time would pass before I could forget what happened to me? To my family?

“Only if you’ll forgive me,” I said. “I shouldn’t have done that. Rick didn’t show up, and you stir my appetites. All of them.”

I don’t know why I confessed that to him. For some reason, it caused relief (yep, there was desire there, as well) to glimmer in his gaze.

His lips hitched into a grin. “Don’t get me wrong,” he answered. “I liked it.” He shook his head. “My blood is . . . infected.”

Come to think of it, Brady tasted a little metallic, like I’d licked a pipe. Yet his blood was also more delicious than Rick’s, rich like devil’s food cake slathered with chocolate icing (metal shavings on top).

“Infected?” I worried my lower lip. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s not how you think. It’s complicated.” He studied my face. “May I help you up now?”

He offered his unbloodied hand, and even though I didn’t really need his help, I accepted the gesture. We stood, and I let go of his hand and stepped back. He seemed to recognize I wanted distance, and he didn’t try to crowd me.

“Simone?” called Gran. “Guests are arriving, child.”

“Be right there!” I called back.

“You . . . uh, have some blood on your mouth,” Brady said. He pulled a handkerchief out of his front jeans pocket. I took it and dabbed my lips.

“Keep it,” he said when I tried to hand it back. “I have a lot of those.”

I studied the white cloth and saw the initials BH stitched in the corner. “It’s kinda old-fashioned.”

“My mama raised me right.” He was trying to lighten the mood, and I appreciated it.

“We better go in,” I said. Brady extended his arm in an after-you gesture. I turned around and went inside the kitchen.

I was still hungry. I hoped Rick had arrived because I really needed my pint. I didn’t want to make another mistake. And I never wanted to hurt Brady again.

The party had been in full swing for more than an hour. Rick never showed up and he wasn’t answering his cell phone. Even though I gorged on pot roast, green bean casserole, corn on the cob, and sweet potato pie, hunger gnawed at me until all I could think about was sucking on a juicy artery.

After returning to the house, I’d separated from Brady and had managed to mingle with my friends while avoiding him (and trying to make it seem like I wasn’t).

Nearly everyone had shown up, including Patsy and Gabriel. I’d never seen people enjoy food the way the vampires were, and since we weren’t required to digest, there was no limit on what we could shove down our gullets.

Tables and chairs had been set up outside. Someone, one of the lycans, maybe, brought a grill. The scent of cooking meat seemed to entice everyone, and every so often a groan of appreciation would roll through the crowd.

The best thing about the whole event was that Glory was playing with the other kids. Firefly tag had ensued, and my baby girl ran and jumped and squealed. It didn’t seem to matter to the kids that she didn’t talk. And to see Glory being social and liking it brought me a heart full of joy.

“She’s doing well,” said Eva.

I turned and found Broken Heart’s schoolteacher standing beside me. In her hand was a plate filled with three slices of pie and one slab of cheesecake. She saw me notice her dessert indulgence, and she laughed.

“Carb heaven,” she said, sighing contentedly. “And it’ll never glue itself to my thighs.” She ate some of the cheesecake, closing her eyes as she savored the bite. Then she pointed the fork in the direction of the kids. “You thinkin’ about enrolling Glory in school?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I watched Glory tag Jenny, who was Jessica’s daughter, and giggle as she turned and ran. Flet bounced along with her, his golden light never far from her. My baby seemed so happy. “She’s still not talking. This is the first time I’ve seen her even want to be around other people.”

Eva nodded. “Our classroom is small, and even though we do a lot of typical coursework, I’m very informal. I think Glory would find it fun. Maybe, if she’s around other children, she’ll decide she wants to talk.”

I wondered what she’d say. I wondered if all our secrets would spill from her lips, a purging of what had come before, of what had been done to her. Of what I had done to her father. My stomach clenched. I couldn’t be afraid anymore. Jacob was dead. Technically, so was I. Glory deserved a life with security and love and friendship—even if that meant facing my past head-on.