Page 16 of Taming His Vampire Mate
And the memory of that crimson wave still clung to me, unease settling deep.
“None of which is important,” I muttered, staring at the crack between the curtains and window frame, where a thin scrap of light leaked into the dark. “It was all just a dream.”
I tried hard to believe that.
* * *
“You look cranky,” Derek Evans—which was almost certainly a fake name—commented the moment I walked into the bar. The dark-haired, broad-shouldered man sat at one of the round wooden tables on the outer edge of the room. A glass filled to the top with clear liquid rested in front of him. “Didn’t sleep well?”
“I sincerely hope that’s water,” I said, frowning. “And my sleeping habits are none of your business.”
“It’s gin and tonic,” he said, casting his drink a glum look and sighing. “Minus the gin.”
“Finally tired of every day passing you by in a drunken haze?”
“Maybe every other day. Or every third.” He paused, studying me intently. “I’m trying to live my life a little better, every now and again. I’ve been working on it for a while.”
“With the number of vampire friends and acquaintances you have, you could just have one of us hypnotize you into stopping anytime you want.”
“I’d prefer to try on my own first,” Derek replied. His dark eyes held mine. Then he said, “Something’s wrong. What’s up?”
Far too perceptive, as usual. Normally, I liked that about Derek—unless it was pointed at me.
I gave him a disdainful look, meant to kill the conversation. “Just because I find you less insufferable than most humans doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
He snorted, as though I’d said something funny.
“Don’t mind him,” James said, coming to the end of the bar. “Thierry gets grumpy when he first wakes up.”
He wore a black apron and watched us with a bemused expression, a lopsided smile on his lips. Despite being mated to Pierce—progeny of the vampire king of Seattle and therefore technically one of the highest-ranking people in the city—James insisted on helping behind the bar once a week. Whenever I asked why, he said it kept him grounded. Fair enough. Being surrounded by supernatural creatures every minute of the day probably did make one crave a bit of normalcy.
“Yeah, he probably woke up hangry,” Derek said sagely, nodding. Then, to me: “You ought to eat something.”
“Or someone.” I gave him a steely look. “Are you offering?”
Derek snorted again, shaking his head, unbothered. “Believe it or not, I’ve had worse offers. But no thanks.”
My curiosity ticked up, and I had to stop myself from prying. Derek had wandered into Nathaniel’s Place one night years ago and never really left. He wasn’t anyone’s mate. He wasn’t one of the donors we paid to keep the city’s vampires fed. He’d never expressed interest in becoming one of us. Nor did he seem especially interested in vampires at all. By the time he figured out he was surrounded by bloodthirsty beings—after one of his drinking buddies forgot himself and moved too fast—he’d already made friends with half a dozen of us. He asked if he was in danger. We told him no—vampires in Seattle don’t feed without consent, ever. He shrugged, said it was about what he’d figured, and moved on with the night like it was nothing.
The only other human I’d met with such a nonplussed reaction was James. But he, at least, made sense: his fatedmate was a vampire. And if that wasn’t enough, he was blood-bonded to Pierce, which gave him constant insight into his mate’s thoughts and feelings. He understood our kind far better than Derek ever would. He knew that, underneath everything, a vampire is still just a person.
Derek’s easy acceptance made him an oddity. But he’d been a regular for years, close friends with several vampires, and no one knew a single thing about him—other than his claim of being from Wisconsin.
He didn’t have even the faintest hint of a Midwestern accent.
What did creep in, when he was drinking heavily, was a Southern drawl he clearly tried to hide. If I had to guess, I’d say Georgia. Which meant Derek, like me, had spent a good part of his life on the run.
From something. Or someone.
Whatever. Not my problem. Though if itwassomeone, and they came here with harm in mind, it would likely be the last thing they did. I’d grown rather used to his presence.
Derek, of course, had no business knowing that.
James pulled me back with, “Here,” and passed me a tumbler of blood. My body craved it, but the sight of the crimson liquid made me shudder. Still, I took it.
It was just a dream, I reminded myself. It meant nothing.
“Poppy called,” James added.
