Kiss of the Vampire (The Vanderlind Realm Book 2) (8 page)

If I ever saw Dorian again, I would just have to remind myself that he was never going to care about me. He might have felt some obligation to help me. Hell, even a person like my Uncle Kevin could be guilted into feeling some responsibility for another human being. But Dorian only felt obligated because he was my maker.

He had offered to help me financially. That was worth thinking about. Was I so proud that I was willing to turn away a hand-up? Even if the hand-up came from a vampire who was able to elicit both rage and passion from me, usually at the same time. My gut said no. Better to live on the streets than to take charity from the likes of Dorian. But following my gut wasn’t always the right thing to do. My gut had a way of getting me in trouble.

Or did I usually land in trouble when I ignored my gut? That was another thing to ponder. And just as I was beginning to ponder it, I realized I was about to crash into a cell tower.

I had a new motto to live by. Back when I was a human it should have been: Don’t text and drive. But I was a vampire so things had changed a little. My new motto was going to be: Don’t fly while thinking about Dorian Vanderlind.

Chapter 11

Haley

“There was a young man here looking for you last night,” Debbie said as I tied on my apron after punching in to start my shift at the diner. “A real looker, too. I don’t usually go for men with blond hair — I’m more of an Elvis fan — but for him I would make an exception.”

“Okay, thanks,” I told her, trying to keep my reply as vague as possible. I didn’t want Debbie asking me a million questions about Dorian. As a matter of fact, I didn’t want to think about Dorian at all.

“And there’s a woman over in the corner who’s been asking for you. She’s been here since the sun went down, taking up a whole booth and just milking one lousy cup of tea,” Debbie groused. “I don’t mind you having friends come by, but see if you can at least get her to order something.”

“Okay.” I frowned. Who would come in to see me? It couldn’t be Erica. Debbie wouldn’t have called her a woman. Did my mom get sprung from the looney bin? I headed out into the dining area to see.

I spotted the woman immediately. She was stretched out in the booth like she was the queen of Sheba or something. She was clad all in tight black leather and her bright red hair was styled in a Medusa of corkscrew curls. I could instantly tell that she was a member of the undead just by the intensity of her eyes. Debbie must have somehow invited her in. My boss lived above the diner so I’d always felt I was reasonably safe from undead visitors patroning the place, but that had been a foolish assumption.

“Hello,” I said, after squaring my shoulders and walking up to the table. “Can I get you something to eat or just the check for your tea?”

The woman practically glowered at me. “Are you Haley Scott?” she asked.

I did some fast thinking. If I could tell she was a vampire, then she probably had a pretty good idea that I was one too. Lying and saying I wasn’t Haley would only cause her to hang around the diner more and that was something I definitely did not want. It was better just to own up to being me and see where she took things. “Yes.” I nodded. “I’m Haley Scott. Who are you?”

“I’m an old friend of Dorian Vanderlind,” she said, a menacing sneer spreading tightly across her cherry red lips, which must have been her imitation of a smile. “He had a lot to say about you the last time I saw him. I thought I might like to come and have a look for myself.”

I felt myself bristle. Who the hell was this woman and why had Dorian felt the need to gossip to her about me?

“Really?” I said stiffly. “He hasn’t mentioned a thing about you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she went on, examining the polish on one of her perfectly painted red nails. “You two aren’t exactly close.”

For some reason this comment got my back up. Who was she to come into my diner and tell me about my relationship with Dorian? So I feigned a perplexed looked and said, “We’re not? Then I guess it’s kind of strange that I spent all of today in his arms.”

The vampiress looked surprised and then I saw anger flash across her brow. She quickly suppressed it to feign indifference. “I don’t know what it is about those Vanderlind boys,” she said, peeling a few twenties off of a fat roll of cash that she’d pulled out of her coat pocket. “They could have anyone in the world that they want, and yet they always choose…” She waved a vague hand in my direction as if that explained everything. Then she shrugged. “But I guess there’s no accounting for taste.” The vampiress dropped the notes on the table as if she was tossing out a soiled tissue. And then she sashayed out of the diner, hips swinging.

It was nice to know that some women could be as bitchy in the undead world as they had been when they were alive.

I could not believe that Dorian had been off spreading gossip about me all over Europe while I was struggling on my own trying to figure out how to be a vampire without also becoming a serial killer. What a jerk! He was almost as bad as Tommy and Sheila and the rest of those buttholes. But at least he wasn’t running around Europe bragging to a bunch of people that he had slept with me. Not that any of the undead of Europe would care if Dorian had nailed some small town chick in Ohio. But the thing was, we hadn’t been together. Not even close. So why was he gossiping about me? And why had anyone bothered to listen?

The whole thing just smacked of Tommy. And I really didn’t need more of that in my life. Or in my death. Or whatever vampires called it.

I spent the better part of my shift feeling bent out of shape. Things had been so wonderful with Dorian in the ballroom. But I was an idiot for getting sucked in. He obviously didn’t care. I had to forget about the charming Mr. Vanderlind and just focus on my life and what I wanted to do with it. My short-term plan was simple: Step one: Revenge. Step two: Get the hell out of town.

Focusing on my goals became a lot easier when Tommy and a couple of his jock buddies stumbled into the diner reeking of beer. There was only about twenty minutes left before closing, but it was enough time for teenage boys to wolf down burgers and fries. At first I cringed at the thought of going up to their booth and dealing with their moronic comments and crass jokes. But that was the old me, back when I was a mortal. As a creature of the night, I could kill all three of them without even breaking a sweat. Somehow just knowing that gave me confidence. I had been so wound up about Dorian, and feeding myself, and being a vampire, and survival, that I had put my revenge against Tommy on hold. But those days were over. It was time to turn the tables on Tommy Sherman and make him as miserable as he had made me.

I wasn’t going to kill him. That would have been too much revenge for his crime. But I was going to make Tommy feel so miserable that the experience would permanently scar his high school years. That or I would smash his knee so he couldn’t play football. I couldn’t decide which.

“Hi Tommy. Guys,” I said as I approached their table and handed out the menus. I made my eyes more intense without actually crossing over into using my influence on them. I was just trying to make myself as attractive as possible. “Do you know what you’d like to order or do you need a few minutes?”

“Hhhaley,” Tommy said, his voice a little slurry. His eyes roved up and down the new curves of my body. “You’re looking good. Where have you been?” Before I had a chance to answer, he went on with, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.” He turned to look at his friends. “Wasn’t I just saying that I wanted to hang out with Haley?”

His friends readily agreed, leering at me.

“I’ve been right here,” I told him. “Here or at home, sitting by the phone, waiting for you to call.” I batted my eyes in an overly obvious fashion.

“Really?” Tommy sat up a little straighter. Apparently he didn’t understand sarcasm. “Then maybe you want to hang out after work. What time do you want to get off?” He shot his friends a look and then corrected himself. “I mean, what time do you get off?”

His jock buddies cracked up and elbowed each other under the table.

“No, not really,” I said, unable to sustain the charade. “You know you’ve been a real ass to me. Don’t you?”

Tommy scrunched his face. “That was all a big misunderstanding,” he said, swatting his hand through the air. “It’s really Sheila’s fault. She’s kind of crazy and I just didn’t know how to handle it.”

I found it stunning how easily Tommy could dump all the blame onto somebody else. Especially the girl he was dating.

“Why don’t you let me take you out after you get off work so I can make it up to you?” Tommy asked, giving me a trust-me grin.

I folded my arms and pretended to pout. “And just why should I forgive you?” I said it in a pouty way that let him know I was willing to forgive him.

“Because I’m a good guy. You’ve just got the wrong impression of me.” Tommy spread his arms expansively. “Actually, I’m a great guy. Why don’t you give me another chance so I can prove it to you?”

And that was how the assholes of the world kept procreating, because girls were always willing to give them another chance.

If I was actually thinking of Tommy’s offer as a real date, I would have said no. I’d learned my lesson the hard way about guys like him. But I wasn’t trying to date Tommy. I was trying to make him miserable. And agreeing to another date was a good way to get started. “Tonight isn’t good for me,” I told him, keeping my cool, like he still had to win me over. “But you can pick me up tomorrow night if you’re really serious about making it up to me.” I gave him a sultry look, heat emanating from my eyes.

Tommy’s jaw practically hit the table. “Okay,” he managed to stammer.

“Pick me up at seven,” I told him. Then I wrote up their order on my pad. “I’ll get those burgers, fries and shakes right out to you,” I said, letting my gaze linger a little longer on Tommy before turning and walking away. The boys hadn’t actually ordered anything, but I figured I might as well get a nice order in for Debbie and I doubted Tommy and his friends would protest.

“That chick is so hot,” I heard one of Tommy’s buddies exclaim as I headed back to the kitchen. “I can’t believe you nailed her.”

“I can’t believe it either,” Tommy told him. “She is so much hotter than I remember.”

“She’s way hotter than Sheila,” Buddy Number Two chimed in.

“Who?” Tommy asked.

“Your girlfriend,” Buddy Number Two reminded him. “The chick you’ve been trying to tag her for the last month.”

Tommy gave a malicious chuckle. “Yeah. Like I said, Sheila who?”

“You’d seriously dump Sheila for foster-trash?” That was Buddy Number One asking.

I felt a stab of anger. Foster-trash was a nasty nickname that my cousin used to refer to me back when I was a mortal. I gripped a counter to restrain myself from rushing back into the dining room and tearing the guy’s head off.

“Hell, I’d disown my own mother for that piece of ass,” Tommy assured his friends.

Boys were so pathetically easy to manipulate. It was something that I hadn’t realized as a human. I always thought it was their choice if they wanted to date me. I guess I never thought I was good enough, so they had all the power. But those days were over. I was the one with all the power. I called the shots.

I had meant to start my plans for revenge with Tommy and then move on from there. But luring Tommy into my web also had the added benefit of taking a shot at Sheila. She was the kind of girl who had probably never been dumped. I wondered how much I could get Tommy to jerk her around. And how I could get him to do it? I needed to think it over. I wasn’t used to manipulating people. When I was a mortal, it felt like I was always the one always being manipulated.

After my shift was over, I clocked out and headed to the bars. I was hungry and there was no shortage of guys willing to behave badly in central Ohio. It wasn’t too long until I spied a couple in a dark blue car, fogging up the glass. I moved in closer so I could hear their conversation.

“Come on, Brandi,” the guy was saying.

“I just don’t think we’re ready,” was her reply.

“You might not be ready, but I sure as hell am,” he insisted. “Unless you don’t like me or something.” I rolled my eyes. That was such a typical manipulative-guy move.

“No, I really like you,” Brandi was quick to assure him.

“Good.” I could hear some more kissing. “Then we’re ready. Because I really like you to.”

“Well…” Brandi was wavering. “I still think it would be better for us to wait.”

“Why?” the guy demanded. His voice carried the hint of a spoiled middle-schooler.

“Because we haven’t been together that long. I like you, but I want to really know you. I have to be able to feel I can trust you.”

There was a full minute of silence. And then the guy finally said, “Okay, I guess I understand. But don’t make me wait forever. Okay? You’re just so beautiful, you’re driving me crazy.”