Immortal Craving (Dark Dynasties) (10 page)

“I’ll do it.” Tasmin snatched the first blanket away in the blink of an eye and wrapped it around his shoulders, pulling it tight and huddling into the soft fleece.

“Better,” he said, though his voice was muffled from being pressed against the edge of the blanket. Bay bit back an amused smile and draped the second blanket over his lap before he could snatch that one too. At that point, he finally saw what she held in her hand.

“Is that… socks?”

“You should have something on your feet,” Bay explained. He was looking at her like she had grown an extra head. She looked down at the pair she’d grabbed and realized she’d pulled out a pair covered in a garish candy cane pattern.

“Oh.” She pursed her lips, quietly exasperated that she hadn’t looked at what she’d grabbed, and then shrugged.

“Tasmin, it’s almost one in the morning. Your feet are probably colder than your hands. No one is going to see that you’re wearing my socks.”

“What is
on
them?” he asked.

“They’re supposed to be festive,” she started to explain, and then gave up immediately when she saw his face. “Look, I have an extensive collection of fuzzy
socks because my feet are always cold. They’ll work.” She tossed them into his lap, cheeks flushing at the barest thought of kneeling down in front of him to put the socks on for him. That was a little much, despite the situation.

“Just put them on. You can thank me later.”

He gave a soft snort, but surprised her by doing what she asked. Still, he hid them almost immediately back under the blanket draped across his lap, so she got only a quick glimpse of his candy cane–clad feet.

“Better?” she asked.

He made a sound that could loosely be interpreted as affirmative, which she guessed would have to do.

There was no sound but the soft rushing of the blower from the fireplace, filling the room with warm air. Bay looked between the big chair and the empty space on the couch next to Tasmin, momentarily torn.

Oh, hell with it. It’s my house.

She rounded the coffee table and settled herself on the couch beside Tasmin, pulling her knees into her chest and folding her hands on her knees, turning herself to face him. He seemed to be very pointedly not looking at her.

“Well?”

A quick flicker of a glance. “Well what?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Warming up?”

“Yes.” A pause. “Thank you.”

After another minute passed in silence, Bay gave a soft, exasperated sigh. “So would you like to tell me what you were doing in my yard after midnight? Or should I guess?”

This time when he looked at her, he held her gaze. “That depends. What sort of thing would you guess?”

Bay considered, since he looked genuinely curious.
“I’d guess things aren’t going well at Lily’s?” Bay asked gently. She couldn’t imagine what might have sent him running—Lily was hospitable to just about everyone. And Ty, for all his wariness, would never be tough on someone unfairly.

The reply was quick, curt. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Oh yes it is,” she shot back at him, just as curt. “Those are my friends you’ve asked for help. They’re the ones putting you up. I know Lily better than anyone, except maybe her husband. If there’s something bothering you, I can probably give you some insight. And if someone got on your case, I can probably figure out what’s behind it. For some stupid reason I want to help you out, Tasmin, but you don’t make it easy.”

Her words seemed to take him aback. It occurred to her that after all this time, he was probably unused to dealing with people. She knew so little about him… maybe he’d never been good at it. But he didn’t need coddling from her. He needed help, and he needed honesty.

They
both
needed honesty.

Tasmin was looking at the floor, frowning. When he lifted his eyes to meet hers, Bay was surprised by the earnestness in his expression.

“I know,” he said softly. “It’s… difficult for me. I’m not sure how to act in this place. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Bailey. Tonight, or before. That wasn’t my intent.”

She felt her cheeks flush, and was suddenly glad the room was dark apart from the fireplace and one small lamp. Just when she thought she’d found her footing with Tasmin, he set her off balance again. When he wasn’t grumbling like a wounded bear, he swung between rather sweet politeness and off-putting arrogance.

And she still didn’t know what to do with him, though it wasn’t a question she felt she should let herself ponder for extended periods of time for fear of what she might come up with.

She’d gotten thinking about it earlier today and only narrowly missed giving a poor Shih Tzu a bald spot.

“You haven’t offended me,” she finally said. “I’m just curious about you.”

That bit of honesty had him tilting his head at her. The intense scrutiny only made her cheeks hotter.

“Why?”

“Well, because you’re… different… than the other vamps running around here, I suppose.” She shrugged. “And none of them have passed out in my shop.”

His lips quirked. “They obviously don’t know that they must let you rescue them to gain your interest, then.”

Her laugh fluttered as nervously as her stomach. “Yeah, they’d definitely be all over that if they knew. Shampoo bottles everywhere. I’d be ruined.”

Tasmin’s smile was warm, and he shifted as he adjusted the blanket around his shoulders. This was what she’d sensed about him that Lily and Ty had refused to see. Beneath the intimidating veneer, Tasmin was still a man. And that man was wary, lost, and in need of a friend who saw more than his fangs and his mark.

Weird that it would be her.

“Feeling better yet?” Bay asked.

“I am,” Tasmin replied, and a closer look revealed skin that had gone back to its normal color, and shivering that had almost completely subsided. She didn’t think he was going to offer any further information—actually, she was getting used to it—so when Tasmin started
speaking again it took Bay a moment to process what he was saying.

“I’m weaker than I should be in some ways,” Tasmin said quietly, staring into the fire. “I’m not accustomed to the cold here, but still, it shouldn’t do what it did. And I was in my animal skin for most of the time I was out. My fur should have protected me.”

Bay’s eyes widened. “You were running around Tipton as a lion?”

“It’s late,” Tasmin said, sounding a little defensive. “I needed to get out. Becoming a lion is usually the easiest way.”

“I bet. As long as no one sees you.” She tried to picture a full-grown lion running around Tipton in the middle of the night. It was an interesting image. She knew Rick Barrie, the Animal Control officer. Seeing something like that might have given him a heart attack.

“Tell me something, Bailey.”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you so interested in my problems?”

It was a question she wasn’t expecting, and definitely didn’t know how to answer. He watched her steadily, his eyes far more catlike than usual. Strangely, that had stopped making her quite so nervous. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was the socks. Either way, it was welcome.

“I don’t know,” Bay admitted. “You seem pretty alone. Someone ought to be interested in your problems.”

“But
you
are not alone.”

She laughed at the thought, shaking her head. “No. No, I basically have people up in my business whether I want them there or not.” That was her life, dependable Bay,
always around for fun and chatter. Part of her loved that. And part of her chafed at the monotony of it. Something was missing… something had always been missing. She just didn’t know what.

Though up until now, she’d been pretty certain that more vampires weren’t the answer to that question.

Tasmin smiled, a slow, sensual curving of his lips that further stoked what was already a slow burning desire for him.

“You ought to be afraid of me. But I admit, it’s refreshing that you aren’t.”

She shrugged. “I haven’t seen anything to be afraid of.”

Tasmin’s smile faded, worry returning to his features. “You probably will. I think… sometimes… I’m losing my mind.”

The words chilled her to the bone. Bay tried not to show it, keeping her tone casual.

“You don’t seem crazy.”

“It isn’t that. It’s my memory. I left tonight because I was accused of doing something I don’t remember doing. But… I think I might have done it.”

His voice was hollow, and so devoid of any sort of hope that Bay was hard-pressed to feel anything but sympathy for him. Still, she didn’t know what he’d done, or thought he might have done. She wondered if she would still want him on her couch once she found out. And from the look on his face, so did he.

“They think I killed a band of Ptolemy,” he said.

“Oh,” Bay said slowly. Whatever she’d been expecting to hear, that wasn’t it. “Near here, I guess?” He nodded. Bay blew out a breath and tipped her head back to look at
the ceiling. She didn’t really know what to say about it. She hated the way things were.

“You don’t look surprised,” Tasmin said, sounding awfully surprised himself.

“I’m not,” Bay said. “They wait out there and pick off any Lilim or Cait Sith they can get their hands on. The Ptolemy hate us. I mean, them. The Lilim,” Bay said, flushing a little at her slipup. She wasn’t a vampire, and she never would be. “Arsinöe is so powerful that she never gets more than a slap on the wrist for it. The Council here in the States is small, and she was pretty much running it before Lily showed up. Now it’s barely functioning… at least, that’s how Lily and Ty feel about it.”

“That explains why they weren’t angrier about the deaths,” Tasmin said. “They were more concerned about Arsinöe using it as an excuse to do more in retaliation.” He gave a soft, feline growl and shook his head. “I don’t understand any of this. The Lilim were a great power, Lilith the mother of the dynasties. I expected to find an empire in the making, not… this.”

Bay bristled on her friend’s behalf. “Give her time. She’s only been a vampire for a little over a year. They’ve come a long way.”

His sigh was gusty. “I suppose. Nothing is as it was. The great powers are all here: Lilim, Ptolemy, Empusae, Grigori… and these Dracul of whom I have no memory. And yet all I heard whispers of on my way here was disarray. That the Empusa herself barely lives, that the Grigori unleashed a monster that nearly unmade them. Rumors. I found no truth. I hoped to find it here.”

Bay shifted uncomfortably. “You’re going to want to ask Lily about all of that.” She didn’t know all of it. Not
even close. But she knew enough to recognize that there was probably a lot more truth in the rumors Tasmin had heard than he would have liked.

“So did they throw you out, or did you leave?” Bay asked, trying to turn the topic back to something she was more comfortable discussing. “The Lilim tangle with the Ptolemy on a pretty regular basis.”

“I left,” Tasmin admitted. “They don’t want me there any more than I really want to be there anyway.”

“That’s not true.” The words were automatic, and she realized immediately that she was the one who sounded deluded. Lily hadn’t been excited about the added burden, Ty had been unhappy… and Tasmin wanted to be anywhere but here. He was right.

He looked at her the way he might a foolish child. “You know better, I think. But nothing changes the fact that they’re my only choice if I want answers.” He inhaled deeply, looking resigned. “I should go.”

“Back to the mansion?”

“No. Not tonight. I don’t want any more questions tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

Bay waited for clarification, but of course, none was forthcoming. “Where do you plan on staying, since you were half-frozen not too long ago? It isn’t getting any warmer out there.”

His shoulders slumped as he gave the matter actual thought. “Oh,” he said. Then, more vehemently, “I hate your weather.”

“Just be glad it’s November and not January.” Bay sighed softly, seeing that Tasmin had arrived at the same conclusion she had. It was the mansion or here. And he really didn’t seem keen on the mansion.

“You’ve done enough,” Tasmin said. And just like that, he was back to grumbling. At least
that
was familiar.

Bay stood, fatigue settling on her quickly and easily like a well-worn coat. It was late. She was sleepy. And so, from the looks of him, was the vampire on her couch. That was about enough for her for the night. She needed to hide in sleep for a while before whatever craziness awaited her tomorrow.

She didn’t even want to speculate.

“Just flip the switch to turn off the fireplace when you’re warm enough,” she said, pressing her hands against the small of her back and arching a little. She didn’t think about what the position did to display her ample cleavage until she saw Tasmin’s eyes drift, somewhat dreamily, in that direction. Bay straightened immediately, her cheeks burning.

“Stay as long as you like,” Bay said. “I don’t work in the morning, so if you’re here then, you’re welcome to breakfast or… whatever. Lily left a plastic drink container full of I don’t want to know what in the freezer last time she was here.” She shrugged. “Up to you. Get some sleep, huh? You look like you need it.”

Tasmin looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t argue. He knew when he was out of feasible options.

“Again, I find myself in your debt,” he said, looking distinctly unhappy about it.

“Well, I’m mortal, so the debt isn’t forever,” Bay said with a smile. “That should be comforting, right? Good night, Tasmin.”

He watched her with his strange, burning eyes. “Good night, Bailey.”

Bay turned and left the room, Grimm moving as fast as
he ever did to get to his feet and accompany her upstairs. The family room was quiet as she headed up, and she wondered whether he would sleep, even though he looked like he needed to.

A lonely, misunderstood vampire who slept at night and walked in the sun. He was, without a doubt, the strangest man she’d ever met… and at this point, that was saying something.

W
HILE
T
ASMIN SLEPT
, another wakened.

The beast wakened in the darkest hours of night, surfacing when this body’s owner was slumbering and least able to resist. It stretched languorously, enjoying the feel of taut flesh and muscle at its command. It liked the wearing of solid flesh, so well it was surprising. It had been ages since it had manifested as anything like a human. One would think it would be distasteful. And yet… no. This one was strong.