Page 50 of Top Secret Vampire

“What about witches?” Reese asked.

“I’d assume so. As for my uncle, it took me forever for him to forgive me.” He removed another cylinder from a pile inside and gave that to Reese. “There are no specific restrictions or permits required for adults to purchase, possess, or use pepper spray for self-defense purposes in our state. But remember that while you can legally carry and use it in your defense, if you use it against someone without cause, you could wind up in jail.”

I wasn’t going to ask him how he knew this detail. Maybe all the clerks were taught information like this about the weapons they sold.

“Pepper spray also contains capsaicin, though in a lower concentration,” he added.

“Which works better?” Reese asked, studying them both.

“Bear spray, for sure. It’s more effective because it not only contains a higher concentration of capsaicin, but it also creates a wider cloud that covers more area faster. It’s perfect for chasing away large animals like bears. In contrast, pepper spray’s narrow stream was designed for human threats at close range.”

Reese sighed. “I’m not sure what I’ll face.” When her gaze sought mine, it hardened.

This woman was not only savvy, but she was also incredibly strong both inside and out.

“So . . . If I have to choose,” she said. “I pick the bear.”

Chapter 23

Reese

We left Shriek & Nail and got into my SUV.

“Where to?” I asked because I didn’t know where the witch lived.

“I sent her a text, and now isn’t the right time. I’ll have to handle it at another time instead of this afternoon.”

“Is there anywhere else we need to go before I return home and catch up on my writing?” Which I hadn’t had the chance to do so far despite bringing my laptop. But I’d been as eager as him to speak with Thain and the director of the historical society. And I felt good now that I had bear spray.

“I think we’re done in town for the day.”

I took us home and went to my office. He followed, sitting on the sofa and flipping through his phone, trying to discover anything he could about our suspects.

I worked through the afternoon, and then we had dinner together, me enjoying homemade chicken alfredo, him another bag of blood.

“Have you ever thought of drinking some of my blood?” I asked after we’d savored our meals—such an odd way of putting it when he’d drunk his from a blood bag.

His hooded gaze shot to my neck. “I’d be lying if I told you no.”

“How badly do you want it?” Curiosity drove me, not an urge to tease. I wanted to know.

“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to take a sip of your blood.”

The guttural need in his voice made me want to offer him my wrist right now. Bare my neck to him. Hell, beg him to bite me wherever he pleased. While I knew most of the stories told about vampires were myths, it wouldn’t surprise me to hear that a vampire’s “victim” could feel pleasure from his bite.

“Why not take a sip if you really want it?” Maybe this was a foolish offer on my part, but any twang of fear I felt came from made up stories about vampires, not because I was afraid of Wolf.

“I’d never do such a thing without your complete understanding of what it would mean and your full consent.”

“Will one bite turn me into a made vampire?”

“You’re in a unique situation in that you can be transformed into born like me.”

I leaned forward, really intrigued now. “What would it mean if I became a born vampire?”

“You could bear my children. You’d live longer.”

“Thousands of years like you have?”

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