The Undead in My Bed (29 page)

“Still, this is what I prefer. It allows me to feast my gaze upon you without worry.”

I squirmed uncomfortably, my nipples pricking at the thought. I hoped he didn’t notice that. I also hoped he wasn’t spending the whole evening staring at my boobs.

“You are very beautiful,” he said in a soft, husky voice that sent a shiver through my body. “Any man would consider himself lucky to be sitting in my chair right now.”

“Thank you, but I can’t date any man,” I said, a hint of bitterness in my voice. “I have to date Alliance.”

Awkward silence. Probably not the wisest thing to say.
This is why you’re single,
I could hear Jayde saying.
You’re too hung up on that human guy. Forget him.

“So tell me about you,” I said, rushing into the awkward silence. “Is Valjean a family name? A nickname? Do you have a thing for musicals?”

“It is a name I chose. It seemed appropriate.”

“How so?”

“A man betrayed on all sides, forced to live a double life…” He trailed off.

“Betrayed?” I had to ask.

“It is a long story, and one for a different day.”

I rolled my eyes under the blindfold. This Valjean guy needed to get over himself. “Just thought I’d ask. It’s an unusual name.”

“Didn’t you know? Vampires assume new identities. It helps us break our ties with our old lives.”

There was something about him that bothered me, even as I found him appealing. I tilted my head, trying to put my finger on why his responses were unsettling to me. As I moved, I heard him inhale sharply across the table.

I froze. Was he turned on by the sight of my neck? My entire body tingled with alarm… and a hint of arousal. That my slightest gesture could turn a man on so much was bizarre and heady.

Not a man,
I corrected myself.
A vampire.
That changed everything.

Perhaps I’d misunderstood his reaction, though. The blindfold made it difficult to trust my senses, since there was context that I was missing. As a test, I tilted my head further and brushed my long, curling hair over one shoulder, baring my throat. I tilted my chin slowly, working over to the other side as if stretching.

I heard the barest hint of a groan, and he shifted in his chair, adjusting his clothing. As if it had become suddenly… too tight in one area?

That pervert! “Okay, that’s it,” I said firmly, getting to my feet. I tugged at the knot at the back of my head. “I can deal with a lot of things, but I’m not going to sit here in the dark while you’re getting turned on by this freaking blindfold—”

“Ruby, don’t—” the vampire began, his accent suddenly gone, his voice sounding oddly familiar.

I popped my claws, sliced through the fabric, jerked the blindfold away, and stared at my date.

Michael.

Chapter Two

W
hen we’d first started dating, Michael had been this gorgeous, geeky god, and that hadn’t changed. Inky black hair covered his head in a rakish, thick swath. It was always a little too long on top, and when he dragged his hand through his hair, the black locks stuck up like wild spikes on top of his head. I’d been infatuated with those spikes; they made him look untamed. His face was as perfect as I remembered it, too—his cheekbones defined and arching, his brows dark slashes in an otherwise pale face, his jaw narrow but firm and currently clenched with anger. His eyes were beacons of pale green, and his mouth was full and sensual. He was every bit as muscled and hard as he was back when he was playing football in college. In the past, he’d always had a bit of a five o’clock shadow—that was gone now. His
chin was completely smooth. He’d always had a tan in the past, too; that was also gone.

He was a vampire.

Michael was freaking
undead
. The blood drained from my face as I put things together.
Four years,
he’d told me he’d been a vampire. He must have been changed right after we’d broken up.

My gaze narrowed, and I focused on his teeth. There was nothing wrong with them. Nothing at all.

This date was all a setup. He hadn’t wanted me to see that it was him. He’d been sitting there, laughing at me as I was blindfolded and trying to act as if it was a real date. Disguising his voice so I wouldn’t be clued in that it was him.

Why would he do such a thing? Just to mess with me? To get the upper hand and make me look like a fool?

Fury pulsed through me. “What the fuck is this, Michael? Some sort of sick little game?”

He stiffened in anger. “So what if it is, Ruby? Is it so different from the tricks you played on me when we were together?”

So it
was
just to fuck with me. I threw the scarf at him, smacking him in the chest with it. “I never played games. I was always straightforward with you.”

“Didn’t you? Because I seem to recall that your last words to me were ‘It’s not what it looks like, Michael.’”

“Fuck you, Valjean,” I said coldly. I scooped up
my clutch purse, which would make a great projectile when I launched it at his head. “Find some other woman to ogle while she’s blindfolded. I refuse to go along with your sick, perverted little vampire game.”

I pushed my way through the restaurant, ignoring Ryder’s questioning call. So much for a little companionship. I was done with this. Out of here. Waiters and customers scurried out of my way as I stomped to the door, bristling with outrage.

Outside on the sidewalk, I inhaled sharply, breathing in the clear night air. Odd how I’d enjoyed the slightly spicy, sweet vampire scent. I’d heard that was part of their charm, so attractive and appealing that normal, sane people let their guard down. I took a few steps down the street, stretching and letting the night air brush over my shoulders, and headed for the bus stop.

“Stop!” Michael called. “Ruby, stop! I want to talk to you.”

This evening was a waking nightmare. How many times had I dreamed of seeing him again? Of confessing my horrible misdeeds and having him forgive me? Of telling him that I’d always loved him and having him say the same back to me? The only thing Michael wanted was to fuck with me. I walked even faster.

A cool hand grasped my arm.

I turned and snarled. “What?”

The wind ruffled his thick, unruly hair. He loomed over my smaller form, and I was struck anew at how beautiful he was. His features seemed refined in undeath. It suited him.

I hated that.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said.

“I’m leaving,” I bit back, jerking my arm away from him. That was the good thing about being a were-jaguar. He wasn’t stronger than me. “This was obviously a mistake. I’d say it was nice to see you again, but we’d both know that was a lie, right? So I won’t even bother.”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair for you to leave so quickly?”

I stopped and turned, furious. “Exactly
how
is this unfair?”

“Don’t I get a kiss good night?”

“Not as long as you have fangs in your mouth.” I stomped away. God, what was wrong with him? With
me,
for dreaming about him for so long?

“Good-bye, Ruby,” he said softly, so softly I almost didn’t catch it.

The bus pulled up to the curb in a noisy squeal, drowning out anything else he might have said. I paused. Why had his voice gotten so soft and thoughtful? Was it a vampire lure? I peeked over my shoulder and caught a man turning into an alley. Michael must have decided to stick to the shadows for his walk home.
Valjean,
I corrected myself with a curl of my lip,
and turned to the waiting bus. Just then, a heavy shuffling and the sound of flesh striking flesh pricked my ears. A fight? It was coming from the alley.

A trick?

The wind shifted, and along with the heavy scent of car exhaust, I caught the smell of something odd and pungent. I scanned the strip of restaurants nearby. No Italian. How odd that I’d caught the thick scent of garlic—

I gasped, then raced for the alley.

Two men fought there, and I saw Michael slug a guy in a polo shirt. The other man reeled at the hit. Michael growled low in his throat—strange how sexy I found that sound—and pounced on the man.

Irritation flashed through me. Was he taking out some hapless passerby in an alley out of a pissy fit of temper, or worse, because he was thirsty? I put my hands on my hips and tapped my foot. “Michael, this is so
not
cool.”

Michael whirled around, and his eyes were so dark that for a moment, I thought there was something wrong with him. A hypodermic needle was sticking out of the side of his neck, and he yanked it out and tossed it to the ground. He staggered forward a step and raised a hand out to me. “Get out of here, Ruby,” he said in low, angry growl. “Leave!”

Behind him, the man leaped onto Michael’s back and pushed another hypodermic into his throat. Michael shuddered, his eyes rolling back in their
sockets, and he collapsed to the ground. The smell of thick garlic filled the air.

I took a step forward. “What the hell is going on?”

The man crouching over Michael stood. He was tall, with broad shoulders, a scruffy beard, and cuts on his face from where Michael’s fists had clearly done some damage. A dark sleeve of tattoos covered each of his arms. This didn’t seem like a botched feeding.

“What are you doing?” I asked, approaching.

He stepped in front of Michael’s sprawled form. “Collecting a bounty. Move along.”

“Bounty?”

“You need to mind your own business, lady. Move along,” he repeated, cracking his knuckles in a menacing way.

I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I should stop you.”

“Now, sweetie,” he said, staring condescendingly down at me. “I’d hate for you to break a nail on one of your cute little hands.”

Oh, was
that
how it was going to be? I moved forward, letting my eyes flash with moonlight like a cat’s.

Recognition dawned on his face, along with a slow, evil smile that showed a pair of extremely long fangs. “What are you, a were-bunny? I’ve never tasted one. Tonight might be the night.”

God damn it, why did everyone think I was a were-bunny? I dropped my purse onto the ground and began to unbutton the front of my dress, letting the change ripple through my insides. “Try again.”

“Were-kitten?” he said with a leer as I dropped my nice new dress to the ground and stepped out of it, then my shoes. “Or maybe a cute little were—”

The words choked in his throat as I dropped to all fours and black-and-gold-spotted fur sprouted all over my body. My lashing tail distended immediately, and thick, curving claws grew from my fingertips. My teeth elongated and extended into sharp predator teeth. My shoulders hunched low, my hips sliding back to adjust for powerful hindquarters.

“Oh, fuck,” he swore under his breath.

And there it is,
I thought smugly. Then the change fully overtook me, and my thought became of nothing but my jaguar until the transformation was done. When I opened my eyes and took a prowling step forward, he bolted down the alley.

My inner cat went wild. I gave a chuffing little cry and sprang after him. As he raced down the alley I swiped at his back, toying with him. He yelped as my claws ripped his shirt open, exposing a back full of more tattoos. I sped up, nipping at his heels. I could break his neck and play with him, spring onto his back and sink my teeth into the fragile bones at the base of his head. A broken neck wouldn’t kill a vampire, but it’d be really fun to see the fear in his eyes as he realized he’d be mine to play with and destroy at my leisure.

Sometimes there was a big upside to being an apex predator, I thought with a gleeful rush.

A groan sounded behind me, and I skidded to a halt, flattening my ears, listening for another breath of sound.

The tattooed man sensed my distraction and sped up, heading toward traffic.

I could still catch him. If he got toward one of the main streets, I’d have no choice but to abandon the hunt. A big cat roaming downtown Fort Worth? Kinda noticeable. But he wasn’t faster than me. I could still spring on him, knock him to his back, snap his neck—

The groan sounded again.
Michael.
I gave another chuffing cry of anger and turned back toward him.

I’d deal with that tattooed vampire later. I had his scent now, and I’d be able to pick up his trail if he didn’t get into a car.

I padded to Michael’s side and placed my damp nose against his skin. Flushed with heat. That wasn’t good for a vampire. The garlic must have given him a fever.

I touched him with the tip of my tongue. He was still unconscious, his hair spilling over his forehead and sticking to his skin in sweaty spikes. His eyelids fluttered rapidly, his breath rasping, quick, and shallow.

I nudged him. He didn’t move. Another low moan escaped his throat. He was in pain, and my heart clenched in response.

Shit.
I couldn’t leave him there. What if humans
found him? I couldn’t take him to the local Alliance doc; he only treated shifters. And if one vampire was looking for him, there might be more. If I left his side, he’d be vulnerable.

I looked at Michael’s big body, slumped on the concrete. I could probably carry him in my human form, but that would draw too much attention, given our sizes. Maybe I could find someplace safe nearby. Then I could leave him and scout out the area.

The vampire couldn’t have gotten far, and I wanted to know what exactly this “bounty” was about.

I dragged Michael a short way and then got him onto my back—no mean trick without hands, let me tell you. It wasn’t easy keeping him balanced there, and he was probably going to have knuckles full of gravel when he woke up from his hands dragging on the ground, but I made it a few blocks away from the restaurant. My progress was slow, but I knew the area well. With some creative thinking, it wasn’t too hard to keep out of sight, going down alleys, cutting through overpasses, and keeping to the shadows. I was spotted once or twice, but most people rubbed their eyes and stared, not believing the sight. There might be some odd calls to the police, but I’d be long gone by the time a patrol car got there.