Tantalize (24 page)

“What the —?” I whispered.

Ruby glared at me, and she tensed as if to spring.

“Nice kitty,” I breathed. “Pretty kitty.”

Double-O kitty, I realized. A spy.

Kieren hadn’t told me much about the various species of werepeople — Cats included — except that they couldn’t be trusted and liked to play with their food. That they were to be avoided in French kissing, as those with the best control could trigger the kind of wet tongue combs that in domestic kitties created a sandpaper effect and in wild cats could rip raw flesh from bone. That like the Wolves, they were distantly related to a long-forgotten Ice Age cousin. And like the Wolves, they were sworn enemies of vampires.

“Silver bullets,” I said, hoping the specificity of the threat would make her take me more seriously. “I don’t want to shoot you. But I will to defend myself. There’s someplace I’ve got to be soon,
really
soon. Kieren’s life is on the line.”

Ruby yawned in reply. Huge, dramatic, as only a Cat could yawn.

If she had known about the baby squirrels for only a day or two, I wondered, had she told the Cats about Bradley? Probably not. She and Uncle D had been inseparable, and she’d
just
ditched him. I wouldn’t stare at the body, the blood. I. Would. Stop. Staring.

Knowing what Uncle Davidson had become, his betrayal . . . It all went a long way toward squelching a lifetime of loving him. But I had still loved him for a lifetime.

No matter. If I failed tonight, maybe Ruby and the Cats could still stop Bradley. Not that she’d ever believe we were on the same side. “Go,” I told her, stepping aside. “Leave now, and I’ll let you pass unharmed.”

Ruby’s back arched, her tail thrashing.

“Go!” I shouted, cocking the hammer.

Her ears rotated.

I hoped that was a good sign.

It wasn’t.

Ruby sprang at me, claws eager, her teeth gleaming like bloody knives. Furious. Fearless. Like she knew I’d never pull the trigger.

She was wrong. The shot was
loud.
Ruby dropped to the floor. The impact — heart, shoulder? — I couldn’t tell, too much blood. For a moment, I was at a loss.

Then Ruby rose, bleeding. Far more pissed off than before I’d shot her. I aimed the gun once more.

“You know where Kieren lives,” I said, trying reason. “You know his mama is a Wolf. She’s also a healer. If you go to her, tonight, now, she’ll help you.” At least I thought she would. “The Cats are counting on you, aren’t they? What good will it do if you get yourself killed?”

Ruby hesitated. Then she sprang again, only this time across the room and into the hallway. I heard her escape down the stairs and then a crash as though she’d broken through the back door.

“Good luck,” I whispered, lowering the gun.

I had to move fast. Bradley was waiting.

It was messy, intoxicating, as I yanked the stained stake out of my uncle’s back. I closed my hand on the wood, recognizing it as the thin handle of one of Bradley’s black cherry cooking utensils. A ladle maybe, with the end broken off. I swept Ruby’s discarded leather jacket up from the pile of her clothes on the floor, and my heightened hearing picked up sirens in the distance, closing in.

When I opened the sliding glass door to the balcony, the gun slipped through my fingers, fell,
thunked.
I left it behind, still gripping the stake in my other hand, tucking the jacket over my arm, and leaped from the second floor.

Would I break a leg, my neck? I wondered in midair, wishing I were an old enough vampire to turn into a bat.

I landed, rolling, absorbing the impact.

Go, I thought. Go, go,
go.

M
iz Morales’s white minivan was parked on the street outside my house. Clyde was staring into the darkness from the passenger side. I crept up from behind, staying low against the logo that read
Endless Love Bridal Planning,
and opened the driver’s door. Slid in fast, grabbed him. Thrilled that the key was in the ignition. It was 2:04
A.M.
, according to the dashboard clock, and Bradley wasn’t known for his patience.

“Where’s Kieren?” I demanded.

“You’re a vampire!” Clyde exclaimed, hissing.

As if a vampire who’d already faced down a werecat would be intimidated by a ’possum. “Where’s Kieren?” I repeated.

“He, he took off after Ruby.”

I turned on the ignition, released the emergency brake, and pulled from the curb.

Clyde was quiet until we passed the Capitol Motel. Then he asked, “What’re you going to do with me?”

My on-the-fly plan was simple. Bradley expected me with “beverage” in tow. I’d bring Clyde. I’d play along, hand Clyde over to Bradley, and when Bradley lost himself in the blood lust, I’d stake him through the back like Ruby had staked Uncle D.

All this would happen before Clyde was sucked dry. Before Ian and Jerome, who hung out in the back lot until two thirty, came to Bradley’s rescue. Hopefully.

Then all Kieren would have to worry about was the cops.

First, though, I needed to get Clyde’s cooperation. I pulled the van into a spot on South Congress and parked. “I’m going to destroy Bradley. I am. But he’s older than me and much more powerful. We need to catch him off-guard.”

“We?!” Clyde’s right hand fell to the door handle, and I gripped his left arm to hold him in place. White fur rolled across his face, his neck. The air in the van soured like rotten eggs. “
Wait,
I get it! You’re going to sacrifice me to the master vampire!”

“I am not.”

“You are
so
!” Chin folding into nose, nostrils in spasm. “You’re going to —”

“No! My God, stop that.”

“Stop what?” His voice was garbled, snout protruding.

Pressing a button to lower the driver’s side window, I answered, “
That
that. With the sniffing and the . . . Yuck, what used to be your hands. Stop. I’ve got a plan.” Sort of. “And this . . .” I gestured. “Is not part of it. So, shift back all the way. Now!”

The long whiskers shook. “I’m
trying,
okay?”

It was 2:09
A.M.
now.

“Try
harder.
”

“Calm down. It’s not like you’re helping. I’m a guy, you know, hormones. And you’re scary and sexy. In a gonna-kill-somebody kind of way.”

“Sexy?” Somehow I doubted that.

Clyde’s nose widened. Hair receded. Stench thinned. “You weren’t nearly this hot as a human.”

Despite everything, I still had an ego. “Rodent.”

“Marsupial.” He reached into the glove compartment to retrieve some moist towelettes. Biting the corner of a package, he fished one out and wiped his face.

“Hear me out,” I said to Clyde, glancing out the open window. The street crowd was thinning from the entertainment district, the noise dying down. “We —”

“We should wait for Kieren.”

It dawned on me then that Clyde didn’t know Kieren was a hybrid, didn’t know he couldn’t shift all the way or on cue. “It’s midmonth. Low power.”

Clyde looked like he’d give anything to crawl back into his mama’s pouch. “Yeah, between midmonth, Kieren’s allergies, and Ruby’s cinnamon stink water, he didn’t know she was a Cat until I told him.”

If that’s what he wanted to think, fine by me. But we couldn’t sit here all night. I quickly summed up what I had in mind and added, “I won’t let you die like Travis.”

Clyde wrung pink hands. “Vampires didn’t kill Travis. Ruby did.”

“But, but Ruby’s a wereperson,” I whispered. Sure, she’d killed humans, but I’d think even she would draw the line somewhere.

“Uh-huh. Hungry kitty. Not all of us wag our tails for werepeople power.” He didn’t sound happy about it. “The Cats don’t get along with the Wolves, for example, and they eat whom they please.”

That sounded like Ruby. She’d killed Matthews and Bartok in case it was her they were after, I realized, for having eaten Travis.

“Thing is,” Clyde said, “we all hate vampires — no offense.”

I didn’t say anything.

“But if you want to take out the
dolce
demon,” he added, “count me in.”

My accomplice was out of his furry gourd. Or, especially for a wereopossum, really brave. I admired him.

All good except just as I was about to reach for the driver’s side handle, Kieren ripped the door off its hinges.

Backlit by the streetlight, I couldn’t make out the expression on his face. I turned my head away, not wanting him to see me like this — eyes red, fangs extended, dead.

I tried to tell him to leave, but before the words could come, he reached into the vehicle and yanked me out, shoving my back against the side of the van.

My gaze fell to the turquoise-and-silver crucifix hanging from his neck, and I flinched. Maybe I was unholy now, but I hadn’t chosen this. It wasn’t my fault.

I didn’t have to go on this way.

“Kieren . . .” Reaching into the jacket pocket, I withdrew the wooden handle. Forget risking Clyde, I thought. If I were history, wouldn’t Bradley leave Kieren alone? That was all that was left, wasn’t it? For Kieren to plunge this stake into my heart.

“Quince.” Kieren pulled me against him, away from the van, and growling low, tore the weapon from my scarred hand.

I
braced, but the pain never came. Instead, Kieren crushed the stake into splinters and kissed me, his lengthening canines knocking against my extended fangs. I gave in, selfish, sweeping my tongue inside his jaws, forcing my hipbones to rattle against his, giving in to the urge to grind. Curling my fingers into his lush hair, I flattened against him, inhaling sweat and denim and danger and home. Finally mine.

Kieren growled again, deep enough that my lips felt the vibration, and I thanked God we had this moment. He was so warm, so alive. It was the third and best kiss of my life, which might not sound like much, but it was more than I’d ever imagined.

The squeal of tires prompted us to break away as Clyde — who’d scooted to the driver’s side, tossed the van in reverse, and backed out of the space — was peeling out, heading south to safety. He’d waited for an opening, faked us out.

“First, you steal my truck,” Kieren said as the taillights faded in the distance. “Now, he’s stealing the van.”

“You can have the truck back,” I breathed. “But be careful. The police —”

“I know. I’m a wanted Wolf-man,” he agreed, “and if I’m arrested . . . I have to think of my mother, Meghan. I promised my parents that I would leave tonight. They think I’m already gone.”

“Just go now,” I begged. “Be safe.”

But Kieren insisted on hearing my side of the story, which I sped through, ending with Bradley’s demands, explaining the now defunct plan with Clyde.

“You could come away with me,” he said. “Pretty soon you’ll be able to change into a wolf —”

“But not
shift,
” I said. What he was suggesting, it was a nice fantasy, one I hoped to revisit in my dreams. But I wouldn’t be a real Wolf, a natural Wolf like him, just a vampire in wolf form. No pack would accept me, and Kieren needed not only their protection, but also the chance to live without having to hide half of who he was. He’d get that different, special life. The one he’d prepared for. The one he deserved.

It was more important than how much I’d miss him, than how much I loved him, than anything. Still, I wondered, did he love me?

“Besides,” I reminded Kieren, “Bradley is using my restaurant to create new vampires. I’ll torch the place before I let him go on doing that, but you —”

“I’m not leaving until you’re free of that monster. He killed . . .”

Vaggio? I thought. Brazos?

Then I understood. Kieren had meant me. Me as Bradley’s victim. Kieren just couldn’t bring himself to say it. His tear tracks glittered blue and green from the neon sign overhead. He’d tried hard, so hard, to save me. He was still trying, even though in many ways it was too late.

Kieren did love me.

I cradled his stubbly wet cheek. “You can’t —”

“Same plan,” Kieren went on. He broke the silver chain from his neck, tossed the crucifix toward the empty lot next door. “Except I’m your ‘victim’ instead of Clyde.”

“Um.” I pointed at the splintered wood on the asphalt. “That was the plan.”