Love Bites (13 page)

He didn’t want to give up that link to her and her life, but he didn’t see much choice. After retrieving her cell and handing it over to her, he stood back as she stormed to the door. That she wore only her thin nightgown seemed to be the least of her concerns.

“You need blood.” And so saying, he noticed that the drops of his own that had dotted her gown after their enthusiastic round of oral sex were gone. Only damp streaks remained. “You can deny your need for me, but your latency will exist whether we’re together or not.”

“Let me worry about myself.”

“You won’t last without blood.” His voice shook. Whether it was from rage or fear, he couldn’t say. “You will die.”

Without another glance in his direction, Sydney closed the door behind her.

***

Even from halfway down the street, Lucas heard Kellan’s howl. The sound went on and on, an unending bellow of pure emotion. He winced as he watched the reason for Kellan’s rage slip out the side door and run to an idling Saab that waited in the alley.

Even after the car zoomed away, the racket continued. If that hellacious noise wasn’t enough, Lucas could hear their furniture being thrown around like oversized Tinkertoys.

“Christ,” he muttered. “He’s going to get us killed.”

Vampires had existed side by side with humans for so long—amongst them, really—because they knew how to be discreet. Hence the reason so many had turned to bagged blood. It was damned inconvenient to search out a warm pipeline every time the need struck. Then there was the discovery factor. Sure, most vamps who weren’t still wet behind the fangs could wipe the minds of their sources after feeding, but the effort took energy. Energy required more blood, and ideally, sex. Lovers were easier to acquire than tappable veins, but still, too many of their kind settled for burying their dick in whatever hole happened to be available. Male, female…most weren’t that choosy.

Until they found their mate. After that, everyone else seemed like a poor, bloodless imitation.

As a new howl rent the air, he cursed and pivoted to head toward home. Then he saw Emily cowering at his side, her hands clamped over her ears as if he’d threatened her with his own fists.

“What? What is it?”

She shook her head mutely, but her posture—and that whole cradling her head thing—spoke volumes. His instinct to comfort arose immediately, but he stifled it before she could growl and bite. This wasn’t a normal woman with normal urges. This was Emily Yost. From what he’d seen, she got more excited over new book shipments at the library than she did over red-blooded males.

Unless they had fangs. He ran his tongue over his own, still hooded in his mouth. Fangs they hadn’t lied to her about having.

“I need to go to him,” he said gently, wondering if she could even hear him over Kellan’s enraged shouts.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of Kellan? No.” He covered her hands with his and drew them away from her ears. “It would probably be best if you went back to the library without me.”

As if she cared. She hadn’t wanted him to walk her back any more than she’d wanted to walk with him to the house he shared with Kellan. The only reason she had agreed to it was curiosity, plain and simple. Vampires fascinated her, and she seemed willing to tolerate Lucas’s lowly presence as long as she got the opportunity to study one first hand.

Little did she know she was getting two-for-one out of the deal.

A rare flash of uncertainty crossed her lush features. She wasn’t traditionally beautiful. Her mouth was too wide, her eyes too far apart. But the intelligence in them combined with the fleeting smiles he’d glimpsed once or twice—he lived for those smiles—granted her unspeakable beauty.

To him, she was the most gorgeous creature that had ever existed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go in there alone. Unarmed.”

“I’ll be fine.” With effort, he released her hands at her sides. That she hadn’t yanked them free shocked him, but right then, he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his best friend.

Not even Emily.

She gripped his wrist as he turned to go, her eyes sleet gray and imploring. “Wait.” She dug into her purse and came up with a small can of pepper spray, which she pressed into his palm. “It should slow him down long enough for you to escape. Aim directly for the eyes.”

It was silly to be touched, but he was. And he also felt guilty as hell he’d lied to her about his true identity. That had been before he’d guessed the level of her interest in vamps. Now he was beginning to think his telling her he wasn’t a bloodsucker had been a mistake, and not just because it didn’t bode well for their future relationship. Not that he had any way of knowing that they would even
have
a future relationship.

Something crashed through a side window, which finally dislodged him from his thoughts. “I gotta go.”

He gazed down at her and followed impulse once more. Before she had time to protest, he laid his lips on her forehead. The contact lasted seconds. Long enough for her to stiffen and her eyes to widen like twin searchlights.

The last thing he heard as he strode toward the front door was her whispered, “Be careful.”

***

Sydney stared straight ahead while Tate maneuvered through the twisty streets that surrounded Kellan and Lucas’s place. She could’ve sworn she still heard the inhuman sound he’d made at her leaving.

Inhuman. Of course. Kellan was nothing more than a wild animal, and he’d tried to make her into one, too. Did he think she hadn’t heard him plotting to change her on the other side of that closed bathroom door? And for what? Just so he could more easily manipulate her feelings for his own ends.

She wouldn’t stand for it. He wasn’t her “sire”. She hadn’t been turned, and she would figure out a way to forget she’d ever known Kellan Barstow and Lucas Phillips.

Somehow, she would wipe them from her mind. And divest herself of the aching hunger that already shredded her stomach with iron claws.

“Did he rape you?” Tate kept his voice carefully neutral. “Or force you to do something you weren’t comfortable doing?”

Oh, I was very comfortable. That was part of the problem
.

She didn’t answer. She honestly didn’t know if she could speak without bawling. How positively mortifying. She’d never been a weepy girl, but she’d lost all control.

“You have blood on the hem of your nightgown,” he continued in that same flat tone. “Streaks on your thighs. I saw it when you got into the car.”

“Let it go.”

“No, I won’t let it go. I feel responsible, Syd. It’s my fault you turned to that animal after you found Jed and I in—” He stopped, shook himself. “I just want you to know that’s over. It won’t happen again.”

She hadn’t asked. His relationship with her closest friend simply didn’t matter anymore. “Why?”

“Why?” He turned his face toward hers. His hazel eyes were shadowed and heavy, but she noted the fact with a detached interest rather than concern. She felt tapped out emotionally, unable to give any more of herself to anyone. “Because I’m not gay.”

Wearily, she pressed her cheek against the back of her hand.
Just like I’m not a vampire
.

“Say something.”

“You are what you are, Tate. Pretending otherwise changes nothing.”

“Easy for you to say. Your whole world hasn’t just been turned upside down by something you never expected.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said quietly.

“Sydney—”

“I know you’re having trouble believing this, but I honestly don’t care what happened between you and Jed. It’s not even on my radar. If the two of you want to be together, you have my blessing. If you don’t, well, that’s on you.”

He flipped on his turn signal as he idled at the entrance of her apartment building’s parking lot. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly.” She shifted to face him after he pulled into a space. “I appreciate you coming to get me. If you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could come by now and then to…check on me. Make sure everything’s okay.”

Tate turned off the car. “Why? Is that guy you ran away from hassling you? The crazy one with the gold eyes?”

Gold eyes. Just the memory she didn’t need. But she remembered just the same. Remembered waking up with her head on Kellan’s chest to see him devouring her with an expression as weighty as a caress.

“He’s not crazy.” Insanely possessive, yes. Crazy? No. Unless she considered the whole idea of vampires crazy, but that was hard to do when even now bloodlust cramped her belly.

“He looked it.”

“Appearances aren’t everything, Tate.”

“Then what? If he’s not the problem, what is?”

She hissed out a breath. “I’ve developed some health issues.”

He rested a hand on her bare knee. “Oh, honey. Is that why…the blood….” His jaw went tight. “You weren’t pregnant, were you?”

She shook her head frantically. “God no. It wasn’t that.” And she couldn’t bear to think about the possibility even for a moment longer. “Just check on me. Please. Maybe in the mornings, before you head to work. I know it’s a burden, but—”

“No, it’s not. I owe you. Have you seen a doctor?”

“No doctors.” She fought a shudder.

“Okay. I’m just so grateful you contacted me. I left you so many voicemails. When you never called back, I was afraid something had happened. Well, something worse than what made you leave.”

He wasn’t the only one who had called. A quick check of her phone had revealed many missed texts and messages from friends and coworkers. They all equaled more concern than she could deal with at the moment.

Maybe ever.

She forced her tense shoulders to relax. “I’m sorry you were worried.”

“It’s all okay now.” Tate leaned in and brushed his lips over her forehead. “I talked to your landlord. He left a key under the mat for you.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes misted—what else was new?—but she blinked fast before any tears could fall. “I appreciate this more than you realize.”

“I hurt you.
We
hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really. If you speak to Jed, please tell him that for me.” She took the hand he held out and squeezed his fingers. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yes.” He waited until she’d gotten out of the car before he spoke. “Syd?”

“Yeah.”

“Take care of you.”

Sydney smiled, though the effort took the last ounce of her strength. “It’s what I do best.”

***

Days bled into nights. Nights grew into weeks. Eventually Kellan stopped turning over in bed, expecting to find her there. But he never stopped aching at the knowledge that she wouldn’t be.

Everything between them had happened so quickly. He shouldn’t have gotten used to her being around so fast, but he’d underestimated the power of finding his mate. And yes, maybe he’d taken it for granted that she would grasp the significance of their joining, but he hadn’t ever guessed he could drive her away.

Or that she’d stay gone.

The bagged blood that appeared at his mouth upon wakening made him snort with disgust. He shoved the hand that held it away, then rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow. Even after fifty washings, the sheets still bore her scent. Strawberries and sunshine.

Come walk with me into the light, or stay forever banished to the night
.

The song, Luke’s favorite, pulled at his mind. He’d believed he had moved past the urge to be human. They were so frail, after all. And yes, they experienced joys he never would again, but their losses were just as staggering. Happiness, no matter how brief, always exacted its demand for payment, so he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised he was paying now.

“Well, that solves the problem.”

Kellan pulled the pillow over his head.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone, least of all his best friend. Somehow he knew Luke believed he’d caused this to happen. He was smug about it, too, as if he’d finally been vindicated in his decision to tiptoe around Emily. Women, he’d said, couldn’t handle the truth in one straight shot. Better to spoonfeed them a little at a time. And while Luke still didn’t have his mate by his side, he also hadn’t struck out so resoundingly that Emily refused all contact with him.

All phone calls. All e-mails. All deliveries of calla lilies and irises—though they were out of season and extremely expensive—arranged with blood-red balloons and enormous heart-shaped boxes of truffles. He’d taken the flowers to the cemetery and left them on graves that lacked fresh ones, but the balloons were another issue. They clung to the ceiling around his bed, taunting him with their dangling red tails until he slapped at them like a deranged mental patient.

She’d even returned the emerald velvet gown he’d had delivered. The one he’d had specially made, sized from memory. Not only had she refused it, she’d sent the pristine white box back with the dressmaker’s seal intact. She hadn’t even looked.

Could his ego be crushed any further?

Luke grabbed the pillow off Kellan’s head and threw it aside. “Drink, you slimy bastard.” This time, the bagged blood he’d already forgotten about was slammed against his mouth until his fangs popped out in sheer retaliation. “All of it. Every last drop.”

He drank, from reflex more than hunger. He hated the bagged stuff. Hated being told what to do. But from the clench of his body as the first heavenly trickle slipped down his throat, he’d obviously waited too long to feed.

“And bathe,” Luke put in, as if reading his thoughts. “You reek.”

Younger vampires—those under a couple hundred years old—didn’t possess the ability to mind-read, but the decades between them lent knowledge of each other. Often, they didn’t even need to speak.

Which meant Luke probably knew exactly how much he was suffering. Not that he’d made much of a secret of it.

Kellan drained the blood and tossed the plastic hull aside. Then he raked a hand through his hair, now longer than he liked. Damn stuff grew like a weed when he wasn’t making bi-weekly trips to his barber, and it had been more than five weeks since he’d thought of a haircut.