Bad Blood (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter, Vol. 3) (6 page)

BOOK: Bad Blood (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter, Vol. 3)
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“You happy to be back?” Dante asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I actually am.”

“Missed me, did you?”

I smiled in response. Sure, I’d missed Dante, probably not as much as he’d like to believe. But more surprisingly, I’d missed home. Alaska had a certain charm and wild beauty that couldn’t be found anywhere else. It took a wide open expanse of dust and tumbleweeds to make me appreciate the bigger picture.

Dante rolled his window down and pulled up to the ticket booth.

A middle-aged male attendant set a paper down. “That will be five dollars.”

Dante handed the agent a ten and waited for his change.

Guess he’d been at the airport for over an hour. That, or we really had gone into a temporary kissing coma.

Once Dante got his change, I braced myself for his inevitable acceleration down International Airport Road, but he cruised along as though he had nowhere to be.

The last time I’d been down this road, it had been covered in snow. At the moment, the trees were dropping their leaves, but the grass was still green.

“So, my mom’s all settled in with my grandma now,” I said, watching the familiar scenery slide past.

I knew from my mom that Dante had helped her move to my grandmother’s condo, which was another action that had sold me on a potential relationship with him, even more so due to the fact that he hadn’t tried to score points by mentioning it in any of his texts.

“Yep, and she’s become quite the tennis pro.”

I had a difficult time picturing my mom in a short white pleated skirt smacking tennis balls across a net. Last time I saw her, she’d made a fashion statement out of bathrobes.

“Good.”

“It’s going to be a good year, Aurora.”

I turned away from the window to look at Dante. He’d always called me “Sky”. I liked the way “Aurora” rolled off his tongue. He made it sound beautiful.

“I could use a good year,” I said. I wished that meant taking a break from the whole vampire hunting business. Nothing sounded better than putting aside the biting and killing to go to college and have a normal life. But in our line of business, there were always deaths to avenge. And Jared still needed to be dealt with.

Valerie was supposed to be keeping tabs on him while I was gone.

I could still picture his blue bandana tied around his forehead when he ran into my car head-on last November. I hoped he had it on when we took him down. It would be fitting to wrap it around his neck and choke every last immortal breath from his lungs. At least now I had practice.

“Ready to start college?” Dante asked, his thoughts miles away from my own.

I shook Jared from my mind. He didn’t belong in my head during my homecoming. “Yeah.” I’d signed up for my classes online in Oregon and gotten nearly all the courses and times I wanted. It no longer mattered to me that I was going in-state rather than to Notre Dame. College was college, and I was ready to learn at a higher level.

I was also more than ready to leave behind lockers, lunchrooms, and all the social bullshit surrounding high school. I was especially happy I wouldn’t be going to the same school as Noel Harper.

But like Jared, she had no place in my mind tonight.

 

    
    

 

The first thing I noticed when my mom opened the door to my grandmother’s condo was that she looked about fifty pounds lighter. She had on a pair of slim khakis and a thin V-neck sweater.

“Aurora!” she cried, embracing me tightly.

Once we’d pulled apart, I said, “Dang, Mom, you look incredible.” And I thought I was the one who’d return from boot camp all trim and toned.

“Is that my grandbaby?” Gran called from the living room.

It was impossible to miss her in the bold red top and platinum blond bob with long sweeping bangs. She could have been Helen Mirren’s twin. Grandma always looked good, but tonight she’d really done her generation proud. It looked like she and Mom had done just fine without me.

“Hi, Grandma.”

“Come here and give me a hug. How was your internship?”

I glanced at my mom. Before I left town, we told grandma that I’d been offered an opportunity to intern and work the summer as a camp counselor for troubled teens. At least it had some semblance of truth. It was boot camp and the participating teens were understandably troubled.

But I was no counselor—more like an inmate.

I hugged Gran in the living room.

“It was an interesting experience,” I said. “Very enriching.”

She patted my shoulder. “I’m sure it was, my dear. I just don’t understand why you had to leave before graduation. I don’t have any pictures of you in your cap and gown.”

“You can get those in another four years when I graduate from UAA.”

“When you receive your B.A. in counseling?” Grandma asked, fishing.

The woman was way too keen. I’d never once in my life expressed an interest in counseling, which Gran had quickly pointed out after Mom and I brought up the fake internship.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“Ladies,” Dante called from the kitchen. “I would like to propose a toast to Aurora’s return.”

He pulled the cork off a bottle of sparkling apple cider with his bare hand. A soft pop followed. Mom set out four glasses, placing them on the kitchen counter beside Dante.

Grandma and I walked over.

Once we’d toasted, Gran announced dinner.

“We made your favorite. Spaghetti with marinara sauce and a side of roasted vegetables and buttered bread, no garlic.”

“Thanks,” Dante and I said simultaneously.

We helped bring all the food to the table, where we began dishing it up immediately. Mom and Gran took seats opposite each other, so Dante and I did the same.

“Was your flight late?” Gran asked.

“What do you mean?” I took a sip of apple cider.

“We were expecting you thirty minutes ago.”

I nearly choked gulping the cider down. “Yeah, there was a slight delay.” I avoided Dante’s eyes to prevent my cheeks from turning fire-hydrant red.

“Tell me about these tennis tournaments,” I said, turning to Mom. “Have you been kicking butt?”

Mom waved the compliment away with a flick of her slender wrist. She really did look great.

“I’ve had fun.”

“And she kicked butt,” Gran threw in. “Your mother beat the Harrison twins a couple weeks ago. Those two didn’t know what hit them.”

“Oh, Mom, stop. They were only thirteen.”

Gran lifted her chin. “Even more reason to be proud.”

“Way to go, Mom,” I said.

“I wish you could have seen your mother’s progression over the summer,” Gran said, recounting the story of Mom’s beginning lessons. When she first started, she had to serve the ball by bouncing it on the court because she couldn’t serve overhand. By the end of summer, she’d moved onto walloping the teeny bopper twins.

Dante laughed along, but I kept catching him sneaking glances at me, eyebrows lifting whenever he caught my attention, as though eye-fucking me in secret at the dinner table.

I twisted spaghetti round and round my fork. Even opening my mouth to chew felt invasive with the way Dante watched my lips. Following the conversation was a bit difficult when all I could think about was sex, sex, and more sex.

We’ll take our time tonight.

I’d only done it once… for all of thirty seconds. I wasn’t sure anything under a minute really counted.

Doing it with Dante was a huge deal. I worked with him, and it was Dante. I wasn’t sure I was ready. I’d only just returned. I still needed to buy textbooks and move into my new place.

Everything was changing so quickly. Everything was different since I’d left.

I cleared my throat. “What else did you guys do this summer?”

I included Dante in the general question I posed to the table, but he was polite enough to give Gran the floor. She and my mom had tried everything from pottery and scrapbooking to water aerobics and Zumba.

Zumba—now that must have been a pretty sight.

“And we’re learning French,” Gran said. “Or should I say
,
nous apprenons le françai
s
.” She laughed.


Très Bie
n
,” I said. I’d taken three years of high school French, almost four if I’d have finished senior year.

Grandma rubbed her palms together. “Yes, well, it was a lot more fun when the handsome young fellow was teaching.”

“Robert,” Mom supplied with an amused grin.

“Yes, the handsome young fellow.” Gran sighed. “Unfortunately, he was in an accident. Now Madame Vasser instructs us. She’s young as well, though rather aloof for her age if you ask me. She is a native of France so at least she has the pronunciation down.”

“Which is more helpful for our purposes of learning the language,” Mom said, chuckling softly.

My stomach tightened.

They all looked so happy. I hated that I couldn’t smile along with them, but if I’d learned one thing, it was to be cautious.

The fact that my mom and grandmother had a young female French teacher filled me with alarm. Valerie and I had dragged an unconscious vampire to safety in Sitka. Giselle Morrel, and she was a native French girl who collected figurines, stuffed animals… and swords.

Melcher told me letting her live had been a mistake.

Yeah, I’d made a lot of those in a short amount of time, but I hoped to make wiser decisions from here on out. I also planned on being more cautious.

“What does this French teacher look like?” I asked.

Mom and Grandma exchanged a look. Mom shrugged. “She’s young. Maybe around your age or a couple years older.”

Strike one.

“What color is her hair?”

“Blond.”

Strike two. Now I needed visual confirmation. Mom said the teacher’s last name was Vasser, but that didn’t mean Giselle wasn’t using an alias. She could call herself whatever she wanted, and no one would be the wiser.

“What sort of accident did the guy before her have?” I asked.

Grandma’s fork clinked against her plate when she set it down.

“Aurora, is everything okay?” Mom asked.

BOOK: Bad Blood (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter, Vol. 3)
10.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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