Sweet Last Drop (15 page)

The scent of warmed blood still permeated the house. I could still hear Jillian’s manic laughter, and I could still feel that deep ache in the pit of my stomach, half nausea and half anticipation. I wanted the blood, but I was familiar with resisting addiction. It wasn’t a matter of what I wanted. I could want to swallow handfuls of Percs all day, and I could want to drop to my knees and lap the blood from the concrete with my tongue, but I chose to resist.

I closed my eyes and let Walker kiss me because addiction was a matter of choice.

His lips pressed against mine. This close to his skin, I could smell the spice of his aftershave and the mint of his breath, and I breathed in the scent of Walker as long and deep as I could to expel every other scent, every other desire except for this man in this moment. I rocked my mouth against his, our tongues dipping and shifting against the other, moving in unison yet daring for more with the same breath. Walker groaned. His grip on my neck tightened. His other hand moved under my shirt, so the rough calluses of his palm scrapped down my spine as he pulled me into the warmth and security of his arms.

Dominic was so incomprehensively strong that the few times he’d touched me—especially during the day, when he touched my delicate, very breakable skin with his gargoyle-like claws—he was exceedingly careful with my body. His advances, although fervent, were reserved. Walker had no such reservations. My lips felt raw as his teeth ground against mine. My back felt scraped from the strength of his fingers pulling me closer, and what had begun as a whisper of heat from his gentle caress at my lips exploded into a battle over each other’s body parts.

I scraped my fingernails down his back. He cupped my ass through my shorts. I pressed my palms along the ridges of his sculpted abs. He dug his fingers beneath the underwire of my bra, and suddenly, I felt suffocated. The minty taste of his tongue mingled with the wet metallic scent of blood, and his arms, so strong around me, were a cage. He rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I bit his lip.

He jerked back, fingertips touching his bottom lip. When he pulled his hand away, I saw that I’d drawn blood.

I winced. “Sorry. I just felt—”
trapped,
I thought. His deep, velvet eyes, so patient and understanding, made me want to scream. “I guess I just got carried away.”

“That’s quite all right, darlin’. You’re not the only one who got a little carried away. We’re in Ronnie’s old house, and I hadn’t meant to, well, rather, I hadn’t expected us to—” He took a deep, unsteady breath.

“You hadn’t expected the fireworks?” I asked helpfully.

He smiled. “Exactly. Sun will be setting soon, and this place is too full of memories to make new ones here. It’s just—” His voice trailed off, but I couldn’t help him find the words this time. Finally, he muttered, “It’s been a long time.”

I laughed. “It’s only been three weeks.”

“That’s long enough, but I wasn’t referring to us kissing.”

“Oh,” I said, at a loss for words.

“Come on, let’s get back to my house and clean your knees. I suppose your legs are important body parts, too.” He winked.

“Sure, you say that
now
that I’ve cut you off from the other parts
.
” I pushed his shoulder, teasing, but amid the torrent of claustrophobic panic and the addict-like itch beneath my skin, I was unaccountably disappointed.

I followed his lead from the house. Once outside and walking into the woods, away from the blood, I breathed in the fresh afternoon air. Some of the itching need dissipated as the smell of blood faded incrementally into the smells of moist moss and pine, and eventually, the sickly sweet smell along with the itching need faded entirely. We walked single file along the path toward his house in silence, only the crunch of twigs and stones beneath our boots.

Even wearing a t-shirt, Walker’s back muscles bunched and coiled noticeably through the fabric. My lips still burned, thinking of how we’d collided—his hand at my back, pressing me closer; his minty breath, breathing into me; the heat of his skin on my skin, sparking my heat.

Even with the taste of Walker’s desire still seared on my tongue and the goose bumps from his touch still tingling over my body, we were walking back to the house and away from privacy because of sunset. Ronnie was right; once you know the truth about the creatures who hunt in the night, everything else in life—no matter how tempting—becomes nothing but background.

* * * *

The view from my window in the guest bedroom was due west and showcased the sun’s descent. I hadn’t witnessed a sunset like that in years. The sky was stained orange and purple and the wispy edges of each cloud glowed blood-red, like backlit fire. I had a half hour until full dark, but the day was so much darker at this time than I was accustomed to in the city. As the sun set here, a blanket of complete, utter blackness threatened, and within the half hour, when the sun fully dipped below the horizon, I wouldn’t be able to see five feet outside my bedroom window. As it was, with the sun still lingering above the tree line, the woods surrounding the house was shrouded in opaque shadows. Bex could be in those shadows now, watching me prepare for our dinner. She would be able to see me in the light of my room, but I wouldn’t be able to see her.

In preparation for dinner with Bex, I wore Dominic’s necklace, snapped matching silver earrings through my ears, and slipped a silver ring on each finger. The rings looked excessive, but we were dining with vampires tonight; no amount of preparation was excessive if it prevented me from becoming the meal.

Finally, I changed into dark skinny jeans, a black tank, and a black leather jacket. I’d learned my lesson with dresses and skirts and fabrics that could be easily ripped, clawed, and bitten through. Dresses and skirts left my femoral artery exposed, and short sleeves gave easy access to my brachial artery. The leather jacket had a high collar, which was admittedly pretty badass, but more importantly, it blocked a direct attack to my carotid. When the vampires decided to bite—whether in violence, warning, or temptation, they always do—it took longer for their fangs to tear through jeans and leather, and that extra moment was my only chance to bite back.

I refreshed my eyeliner, laced up my hiking boots, and packed every pocket for war. I had backup weapons for my backups, and tonight, I had the uneasy feeling I’d need them all.

Dressed and armed for dinner, I needed to do one last thing in preparation for tonight. Dominic wasn’t going to like it, but without a viable alternative, I was going to do it anyway.

The sky still had about fifteen minutes of light remaining. Dominic wouldn’t answer his phone until full night had fallen, and knowing that, I was going to call him early. Dinner with Bex was at sundown, and I still needed to convince Walker to join me. Dominic either got his call now or never, and I wasn’t crazy enough to choose never.

I pressed “Call” under his name in my contacts, and as I suspected, his phone shot directly to voicemail. At the beep I said, “Dominic. It’s Cassidy. My day went well. I hope your day rest went well, too.” I winced at my own awkwardness and rubbed my forehead. “I’ve got dinner tonight with Bex, so she’ll know what a willing and loyal night blood you’ve turned me into. Wish me luck!” I continued, but I couldn’t help the sarcasm from creeping into my tone. I cleared my throat. “I’m looking forward to hearing the progress you’re making on your end of our bargain.” I bit my lip, thinking about Nathan. I had to focus. “If you find him, or find news about him, text me. I’ll be busy with Bex, but I’ll still want to know.”

I rolled my eyes at myself; as if Dominic could text. The man had needed instructions on dialing a number. “Texting is when you type a short message to me. You press the icon with the talk bubble. It’s a different icon than the “Call” button. After you type your message and click send, I’ll get a notification on my phone. It’s easier than calling for quick communication, and Bex won’t realize you’re in touch with me. Unless she sees my phone light up or can sense electronic waves. Either way, it’s more subtle than calling.” I pounded my palm into my forehead.
Stop talking. Stop talking.
“I’ll call you in the morning before sunrise. Bye.”

I pressed “End” and shook my head at my phone. I was going to pay for that. I stuffed my phone in my pocket and decided to worry about Dominic at sunrise. By that time, I’d be back in the guest bedroom, safe and sound, and with any luck, Dominic would have news concerning Nathan. To get to that point, however, I needed to survive dinner with Bex.

I walked downstairs, not unaware that with my leather and fully loaded, I looked a little reminiscent of Trinity from
The Matrix
. Most of the house’s occupants were downstairs when I walked into the kitchen. Ronnie was mixing a bowl of batter. Jeremy was sitting on one of the barstools at the breakfast counter next to Logan’s oldest son, Keagan, presumably waiting for whatever Ronnie was mixing. Theresa, Logan, and his younger sons, Colin, William, and Douglas, sat around the wooden kitchen table. Walker stood next to Logan, and the two of them were lecturing the boys, but only Colin was really listening. The other two had that glazed look of boys who’d heard the speech before and hadn’t heard a word of it the first time, either.

My boots pounded into the floor with an audible clunk as I stepped from carpet to hardwood, and everyone looked up. I waved hello as I walked in, but they kept staring. Keagan’s lips quirked into a wide smile. Logan blinked at me several times. Walker instantly glowered, and Ronnie, if I wasn’t mistaken by the whisk in her hand hovering above her pancake batter, Ronnie started shaking.

“Good evening,” I said to the room in general. I leaned over Jeremy at the breakfast counter. “Did I smear my eyeliner or something?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Or something.”

“Right.” I faced Walker. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“In a minute. I’m in the middle of—”

Logan shook his head. “No, go ahead. I’ve got it here,” he said to Walker, but he never took his eyes off me. I’d have been offended, but his eyes were anything but salacious. In fact, he looked a little angry.

“Thank you, Logan,” I said, feeling self-conscious. “It really is urgent.”

The muscle in Walker’s jaw ticked. I knew he wasn’t happy with the interruption, but I only had another ten minutes before sunset.

Walker led me to the living room, and we sat adjacent to each other on the couch.

I leaned in and whispered, “What’s with everybody?”

Walker glanced around the room where everyone was now surreptitiously whispering and glancing at us, obviously eavesdropping.

He met my eyes. “You tell me, Lara Croft.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You come down here, eyes lined with fresh war paint, skintight armor, and brass knuckles ready to swing, and wonder why everyone is staring.” Walker shook his head.

I looked down at the rings on my fingers. “They’re silver, not brass. You think I overdid my eyeliner?”

“You know what I’m saying. This house is a refuge. Night bloods come here to feel safe, but you’re compromising that, dressed for battle. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” I repeated, my temper spiking. I tipped my voice low since we were still center stage, squelching the urge to scream. “Maybe it slipped your mind, but tonight is my dinner date with Bex.”

“No, tonight is the night that you’re skipping your dinner date with Bex,” Walker said.

“No, I’m not, and neither are you. She’s expecting us.”

“No, she’s not,” he said, wagging his finger at me. “I remember having this conversation with Bex, and I distinctly remember refusing her invitation. I also remember having this conversation with you, and I distinctly remember my reply. We cannot trust Bex. Even if she only invited the two of us, I’d have said no. But we’re not the only night bloods that she wants at her dinner table tonight.” Walker dipped his voice low. It broke slightly as he referred to Ronnie. “And I’m not putting her at risk.”

I glanced at Ronnie where she spooned the bowl of pancake batter onto the griddle, the only person in the kitchen not staring at us. She deliberately blocked out the drama unfolding around her, about her, to focus solely on her pancakes. By the smell of them, they were banana nut. My stomach growled.

“I know,” I whispered, ignoring my stomach. Some things, although admittedly not many, were more important than pancakes. “But I’m only asking for
you
to come with me.”

“You don’t think Bex will punish us for not bringing her? You don’t think she’ll punish her for not coming?” Walker snorted. “It’s better if we don’t come at all.”

“You said so yourself; this house is the safest place for a night blood. She’ll be protected from Bex and her punishments here while we’re at dinner. We only have to worry about Bex retaliating against
us
.”

Walker’s jaw tightened in that stubborn flex that was becoming frustratingly familiar. “We’re not going,” he said, and his voice was definitive.

“But I—”

He placed both hands on my shoulders. “Listen to me. We are not going.”

“
You’re
not going,” I hissed, to hell with being center stage. I shrugged off his hands. “But that doesn’t mean that
I’m
not going.”

“Oh, yes it does.”

“Oh, no it does not,” I snapped right back. “You can choose not to come. You can choose to protect Ronnie here at home where she’ll be safe while I face Bex alone. Whatever. But I
am
going,” I enunciated.

Walker crossed his arms. “You think I can’t stop you?”

“Seriously?” I shook my head. “Everyone needs a partner. I need someone at my back. I’m going no matter what, but I’d rather not go alone.”

“If you’re going no matter what, then why are we even having this conversation?” he asked bitterly. “Just go.”

We stared at each other, two bulls trying to bluff the other. Having dinner with Bex in her coven was stupid enough, but having dinner with Bex in her coven alone was not only stupid, it was suicidal. I needed Walker there with me, but more than that, I needed to uphold my end of the bargain with Dominic if I expected Dominic to uphold his. Normally, I wasn’t stupid or suicidal, but I’d do anything to get my brother back, including having dinner with Bex, and God help me, I was having dinner with her alone.