Sins of the Undead Patriot (7 page)

Peter held Meg close.

Vaihan turned to them. “Leera was telling me you haven’t narrowed down names yet.”

Liar, they hadn’t even been speaking of that. She’d been turning down his invitation to go out. Where was he going with this?

“Not yet.” Meg perked up. “But we aren’t due for another two months”

Two more long, excruciating months of listening to them, watching her brother and Meg carry on and on about this new person coming into their lives. The one positive was that maybe they would be too busy to bother her.

“Plenty of time, then.” He smiled, revealing a dimple on one side of his mouth.

Lightning moved through her. She hadn’t expected such a sexy, distinctive characteristic. The crowd shifted back toward the music hall. She put her cup on a table.

Vaihan’s caressing hand withdrew from her, taking with it the warm sensation.

“Thank you for the company, and I will pick you up Thursday at seven for dinner.”

Both Meg and Peter’s eyes grew wide.

Vaihan bowed, and handed her a business card. “My home number is on the back.”

There was no way of backing out of his move without being rude. He was too smooth. “Thank you.” Leera took the paper in hand and flipped the card over. Great penmanship.

“Why don’t you join us?” Meg piped up.

How embarrassing. Leera sunk inside herself.

“I’d hate to impose on your family outing.” Vaihan stepped back.

Even the undead guy seemed uneasy about the desperateness of the offer.

“Nonsense, there is an empty seat next to Leera.” Meg gestured to her.

The image of Jean next to her flashed, then the current vacant seat. She’d renewed two season tickets, unable to tell the bubbly sales girl there was no longer a mister, just his widow.

Leera’s chest rose and fell as she heaved a breath. “I need to step outside a moment.” The harsh clunk of her heels echoed as she marched away into the cool night. She didn’t make for a very good snitch.

Chapter 6

Perhaps the seat wasn’t empty, but vacant. Vaihan wanted to tell her the pain wouldn’t last forever. However, even that stage of grief brought new questions and doubts.

“Meg-g...” Peter frowned.

“Oh dear, I didn’t mean to.” Meg hid her face in Peter’s shoulder. “I didn’t think before I spoke.”

Evidently not. Neither made any attempt to go after her. Weren’t they worried for her safety? “Allow me.” This was his chance.

Vaihan set down his drink before Peter could interject, and followed after her. He pushed the handle and the door opened. Rows of cars stretched before him. The Potomac lapped at the shore to his left, past the grassy area. The night sky provided a starry canopy.

She paced between a minivan and an SUV. The moment Peter had pointed her out, he had suppressed the urge to walk over to her. What had gotten into him? The possibility that he’d grown attached to the sad woman in the photo Barton had provided him was real. Leera was attractive in a sultry way. Human males noticed her.

“Leera.” He breathed out her name.

She darted a look at him, eyes shimmering with tears. Wind tossed her curls in all directions. What a horrid feeling indeed, to be trapped among the living when all you wanted to be was dead. Once, he too had longed for the cycle to end, but not anymore. Not in a long time.

“Don’t come over here. My mascara has made a mess of my face.” She bent toward the side mirror of the silver SUV, her plump bottom pushed out.

“It’s going to take a lot more than smudged makeup to do that.” He cocked his head to admire the seam between her thighs. “You’re gorgeous.”

The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “You are some kind of smooth talker.” She lifted upright then spun toward him.

Admittedly, he stood too close but he itched to touch her again.

When she attempted to step back, he scooped his arm behind her, resting his fingers against the bare skin of her open-backed gown.

A breath hitched at her lips. As her heart rate accelerated, her eyes widened with fear.

“Not so fast.” He steadied her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She wrapped her hands around the upper part of her body, creating a barrier. Goose bumps covered her exposed arms.

He unfastened the buttons of his jacket, slipped off the garment and then rested it on her shoulders.

“You don’t have to.” Her gazed traveled from his neck to where two buttons were undone on his dress shirt.

Did she like what she saw? For now, he’d content himself with not finding disgust in her eyes. As her dark gaze rose, it met his, and her body relaxed. A run of black makeup was smeared beneath her eyes. He pressed his thumb to her skin, wiping away tears and mascara.

She reached for his hand, then pressed his flesh to hers. “You’re so hot.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m not just good looks.” He let his hand rest in the small of her back.

“I meant your skin.”

“Of course you did. I’m undead. My appearance is usually a cause for fear.” Most of his kind paid for human female companionship. He’d never needed to. Zombies had their own underground scene. Lavish nightclubs, where humans offered themselves up blindfolded, tied up and bound to the wall or ceiling in exchange for a taste of poison. These places provided a safe environment where the undead could feast on the living in a number of ways.

Not his cup of tea.

“Hmm.” She angled her head. “Given the lines of your brow, nose and lips with the structure of your jaw, I’d say you’re easy on the eyes.”

In mere moments of knowing him, she’d been able to see him as more than his scary exterior.

“Undead of my persuasion have a body temperature that is about six degrees hotter than humans.” With his index finger, he tucked a rogue curl behind her ear.

“Guess that’s why I’m not chilly anymore.” She met his stare.

“Here I thought the change was your attraction to me.” He smiled.

She pressed her lips together. A sweet peach scent rose from her flesh as she warmed from his touch. The pigment of her skin indicated she ate healthy food and exercised regularly. The meat of her thighs was probably tender and succulent, but likely didn’t compare to the sweet taste of the juices between them.

His taste buds tingled with anticipation. “Let me take you home?”

She glanced around his shoulder to the grand building. “I don’t want to worry Peter and Meg.”

“I’ll email him on my BlackBerry.” Her next protest was sure to be about him missing this evening’s music. So, he’d better put that option to rest. “As far I’m concerned, I’ve seen the show twice and will again, so you aren’t depriving me.” But if she turned him down, she would be.

“Thank you. I appreciate the ride.” She slipped her arms into the sleeves of his coat.

“My car is in the parking station. This way.” He gestured back inside then pulled out his BlackBerry and thumbed a message to Peter.
Please enjoy your evening. I’m escorting Leera home.
He pressed Send. “I’ve let your brother know I’m bringing you to your place.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be doing this so you’ll know where I live?” The slightest brightness glimmered in her black eyes.

He held the first set of doors open for her, directed her to the elevator and pressed the Down button. That information would be easy enough to obtain.

“I was joking.” Leera pushed into her heels and smiled.

“It beats stalking you...”

Sadness emanated from her. Loss never got easier, not even for his kind.

“You’d be bored,” she said. “I live an uneventful life. Work, working out, gardening in the summer. I’m a homebody.”

The bell dinged and door panels slid apart. He entered after her and pressed P1. The doors closed. With a jerk, the elevator descended.

“A vegetable garden?” Not a hobby of his, but if she were lying naked in a pumpkin patch he might be convinced otherwise. The accenting contrast of her perfect breasts and dark nipples jutting out over the edge of the large orange vegetables would give him cause to pause.

He swallowed thickly.

“Yes, how did you know?” She smiled then pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Peter told me you’re a genius-turned-chef. Vegetables seemed a natural leap. You studied at the institute of Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, correct?” The best school of French cuisine. She’d gone away to study, probably to be a great distance from the serious Waltz family businesses of law and politics. Not to mention, the pressure.

“I did.” With her straight white teeth, she bit into the moist plumpness of her bottom lip.

A shiver shot up his spine. Insinuating such offers with a zombie might not be in her best interest. Not that he planned on eating her in the literal sense of the word. He definitely wanted to taste her in more places and ways than one, but she was work. Better he delay any such encounters until after he flipped the brother to Barton so they could take down Mr. McKie. Once he got that straightened out, whatever occurred would be mutual. The elevator doors opened and he led her to his black Audi with dark tinted windows. He opened her door.

She slipped into the seat. “Are you a haut cuisine connoisseur?” The hemline of her dress rose, revealing her beautiful, fit thighs. In the soft light, her silky bronze legs shimmered.

He frowned at his admiration. “
Moi, non
, but a good friend of mine, Johann, is the first undead to graduate from the program.” He could only imagine how tender she’d be to bite into, her satiny flesh pressed to his mouth, teasing his lips... He’d forgotten how difficult this would be.

When she’d lifted her legs into the Audi, he shut the door, went around and climbed in on the driver’s side. “Are you buckled in?”

“I am. Thank you.” She tugged the strap over the full mounds of her breasts. They jiggled with the movement, and all he wanted was to have his hands on them.

He exhaled heavily, pulled his belt over his shoulder, across his lap and pushed in. The mechanism clicked. Her belt was on too. He pushed the lock button on the door. The apparatus clicked. He pushed the button again. Why he’d bought a car without the little sticks that indicated the doors were locked or not was beyond him. Her belt seemed in, but what if the latch hadn’t locked?

“Is everything okay?”

If he came up with a good enough reason, she’d let him check her seatbelt. “Yeah, it’s just the seatbelt doesn’t always click in properly. It’s been problematic since I purchased the car.”

“Oh.” She breathed out and tugged the strap.

He covered her hand and yanked, and she jerked her hand back.

Not good. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m the one that should be sorry,” she said, her dark gaze fixed on him. “You were just looking out for me.”

Exactly. If he checked again, she’d think he was crazy.

The beige lighting in the parking lot shone on the velvety texture of her skin. Vaihan turned on the engine, put the car in reverse, pulled out of his parking spot. Arrows marked the path he followed to the exit. He pushed the lock button again. If he tapped the brakes at a low speed and she didn’t fall out, the strap was probably secure. He stopped at the pay counter.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Louchian.” The young lad behind the glass counter smiled.

“Jazz, back on the evening shift?” Vaihan removed a twenty from the cup holder.

“Yes, but only while Frank is away.” He tapped commands into a keyboard. “Your total comes to ten dollars.”

He held out the cash. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” The young man saluted off his turban.

In the last few moments, Leera had not spoken a word, though he was sure she’d observed his interaction with the youth.

Vaihan pressed the gas then hit the brake.

Leera gasped but remained in her seat. Good. The belt appeared secure. Though, at high impact it could react differently...not that he was about to test his theory.

“I’m sorry.” He merged the vehicle onto the road. “Where to,
beaute
?”
Beauty
.

“The corner of Kenmore Drive Northwest and Charleston Terrace Northwest. Know it?” She slid her feet back along the car mat, raising her knees. The satin fabric of her peach dress slipped further up. No panty lines were visible. Was she bare beneath?

Excitement rushed to his cock.

The hard peaks of her nipples pressed to the material of her gown. Not since Elizabeth had he allowed a woman to rouse his lust before he figured out her level of receptiveness toward him–his kind. Was his interest heightened because she was off-limits? Common sense would dictate he refrain from sleeping with a woman he was using to get to someone else–especially when the target was her brother.

“Near the reservoir?” He met her gaze.

“That’s the place.” Her pretty glossy lips curved to one side. “And you, where do you call home?”

“A cemetery.”

Her eyes widened to saucers. “You tease.” A subtle breath escaped, relaxing her shoulders.