Page 2 of Fanged Embrace
Arlon was sad to see me go, but he let me off the hook with a raise of his mug and a promise to speak highly of my impressive ability to read people. I was chuckling on my wayout the door, and slightly more relaxed than I had been when I’d stumbled in earlier that night.
The mystery woman never showed, but that was fine by me for the time being. Maybe that vision was unrelated to the rest of the mess that I’d seen in my mind’s eye.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice whispered thateverythingwas connected, but there was nothing I could do about it just then. In the morning, when the rest of my friends were still rolling around in bed nursing various levels of aching hangover, I would sit myself down and sift through the visions. Maybe then, with a clear mind and a few hours of sleep under my belt, I’d be able to untangle the threads.
With a shrug, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and started off down the street.
It was only when I’d made it home, clomping up to the front door on partially numb legs, that I realized I’d made a grave mistake. I fumbled for the keys in my coat pocket and my hand came back empty.
“Oh, come on,” I muttered under my breath, rummaging deeper into one side of my coat, then the other. Where was my bag? I always kept my keys in my bag. “Shit.” I let out a low groan, leaning my forehead against the door in defeat. “Goddammit.” Because, of course, I'd left my bag behind at the bar.
I could picture it, slung offhandedly on the counter where Arlon and I had been sitting.
A string of curses hissed between my teeth. That bag wasn’t just a purse to house a wallet and a leaking bottle of lip gloss. There was…incriminating stuffin there. Things that might raise some eyebrows amongst anyone who wasn’t a bona fide vampire. Mortal eyes were not meant to see those contents.
In the best-case scenario, they’d think I was just an eccentric with a rather weird fascination. Worst-case? They’d start asking all sorts of questions. I shuddered.
Hunter was going to kill me. I slumped against the door.
If someone rummaged through my things, we’d have a real fiasco on our hands. It’d mean Hunter would have to track them down and wipe memories, which I was sure she did not want to do so soon after the ordeal with Gregor. Or directly after her own bachelor party. It was hardly the ideal way to start the weekend.
I debated turning right around and heading back.
My body felt like lead, my pants had begun to chafe in unfortunate places, and the bar was quite a trek. But then again, anything was better than facing Hunter’s wrath. She’d gone full bridezilla since she and Addison got engaged, and I was not going to be the one to pry her away from her fiancée on a quest to fix my fuckup.
I would have to fix it myself. And live with the knowledge that I went through all of this to find a strange woman I’d dreamed up in my head who may or may not even exist in the first place.
Well done, River. This is where going with the flow gets you.
2
Laurie
I was late—very late. But that was nothing new, and I couldn’t quite summon the energy to feel bad about it. After the kind of day I’d had, guilt was one burden too many.
The bar was nearly empty by the time I got there: a few old-timers hunched over their whiskeys, a bored bartender tinkering on her phone—and Arlon. His expression brightened the moment he spotted me, tinted with a brief flicker of stark relief.
I should’ve felt a pang of gratitude that someone cared enough to look so concerned,but all I did was brace myself. The warmth in his eyes sent an uncomfortable twist through my gut and I sunk deeper into the collar of my jacket.Don’t do that. Don’t be so happy to see me.
“Hey, you made it.” Arlon stood from the stool he’d claimed, oozing calm and caution in equal measure. “I was starting to wonder if?—”
“Traffic,” I said shortly, though it was only partly true. I’d lingered in the shower for longer than I’d meant to, and thenI’d lingered outside for a solid ten minutes before summoning the courage to walk through the door. “Sorry.”
“No worries, I’m just glad you showed up.” Arlon gestured at the empty seat beside him, and I hesitated, scanning the bar for a safer corner. Realizing nowhere else offered even a modicum of privacy, I relented and slid onto the stool.
Arlon watched me with that unwavering gaze of a cop who’d seen too much. Even off duty he carried himself like that, alert and attentive under that easy smile of his. I shifted in my seat and kept my eyes on the countertop, tracking water rings across the varnished surface.
“You doing all right?”
I tried not to wince. It was a question I’d been dreading—because I didn’t have a good answer for him. Nothing that would wipe that concerned streak from his gaze. So I lied. I shrugged, nodded, and deliberately ignored the way he was looking at me. “Yep, peachy.”
The words tasted as stale as the unventilated air in that cramped space, but it was the best I could do. No point letting him dig around in old wounds that still festered.
IlikedArlon, or at least appreciated what he was trying to do for me. The faintest scar lining his cheek made him an oddly comforting presence… sometimes.He was the one and only friend I had who had some idea of the hell I’d been through. But right now, I didn’t want comfort; I just wanted to focus on the reason I’d agreed to meet him in the first place.
I wasn’t sure what it said about me that I was more comfortable talking about cold cases and paper trails than letting anyone show me a speck of kindness.
Arlon sipped his drink. Silence stretched out between us, broken only by the low rumble of the jukebox in the corner. Then he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, Laurie, I don’t want to push, but?—”
