Blood Lust (2 page)

I finally looked down, my cheeks growing hot. “No. No, I’m
fine. I just…I hit my elbow.” I took the handkerchief, not trusting myself to
say anything else, and mopped at the dark stains splattered across my torso. I
could almost hear my mother’s voice telling me, “Dab, don’t smear,” but my
trembling hands didn’t want to cooperate.

“Do you mind?” he asked after several seconds of watching me
rub hopelessly at the hot chocolate stains. I shook my head, and let him take
the handkerchief back. He pulled the hem of my sweatshirt taut and began
dabbing, carefully avoiding my chest.

My mother would love this guy.

I sneaked another glance at him, but his eyes were downcast,
his impossibly long lashes nearly brushing against his cheeks. He was several
inches taller than me, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved, button-down shirt.

When he glanced up at me, his lips curved upwards. His gray
eyes were like molten silver, contrasting starkly with his dark hair. I’d ever
seen eyes that shade before.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, and I realized
that if I didn’t snap out of it soon, he was going to think I was a total head
case.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, and shook my head. “I’m…I guess
I’m a little shaken. I don’t get tackled too often, and definitely not when I’m
carrying hot chocolate. Thanks for lending me your handkerchief…I’m sorry it’s
stained.”

He shook his head, brushing off my apology. “I’m only sorry
I wasn’t close enough to catch you when you were falling. I could have saved
you the bloody elbow.”

“Bloody elbow?” I pulled at the sleeve of my hoodie, but
there were no torn spots. “Did I scrape it through my sweatshirt?” With some
difficulty, I managed to pull my injured arm out of the sleeve, and yanked my
hoodie over my head. He caught the sweatshirt when I almost dropped it, but I
was too distracted to thank him. On closer examination, I realized he was
right. My elbow was scraped and bleeding.

He offered me the stained handkerchief, and I laughed,
despite myself.
 
“No, thanks, I’m pretty
sure hot chocolate doesn’t mix well with road rash. I’ll clean it up when I get
home.” I glanced up at him, wanting to stay but knowing I should probably
hightail it out of there before he noticed the strawberry jam stain on my tank
top. “Thanks for your help.”

“It was no trouble at all.” He hesitated, and I knew I had
to be imagining his reluctance to part ways. “I could walk you to your car.”

A strange man I’d never met before, offering to escort me
away from a crowded carnival?

“Sure,” I said, fully aware that I was taking a very stupid
risk. “I’m in the city parking garage.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked as we
crossed the street.

“What makes you say that?”

He held up my NYU hoodie, which was bunched up in his hand
so that only the NY was visible.

“Ah. Sneaky.”

He almost smiled. “Did you grow up in New York?”

“Yes,” I answered at length, unsure if I really cared to
discuss my life story with him.

“What brought you to Rapid City?”

“I’m starting at NAU in the fall.” I slanted a glance in his
direction, noting his wildly spiked hair and the silver studs gleaming in his
ears. His style was youthful, but there was a strange air about him that seemed
to hint at age and maturity. I couldn’t begin to guess how old he was. He could
be my age, or older, but I couldn’t decide which one was more likely. “What
about you? How long have you lived here?”

“I don’t live here,” he said. “I’m in town on business.”

“Where are you from?”

“Up north.”

There wasn’t much north of South Dakota- except, I guess,
North Dakota. Or maybe he was Canadian. “Are you staying long?”

“I’m not sure yet. I just arrived today.”

“So we’re both newbies to Rapid City. I feel a kinship.”

His incredible eyes glittered as he looked at me. “I do,
too.”

Somehow I felt like he was reading more into it than I’d
intended. I cleared my throat and stopped in front of the stairs. “I’m on the
third level,” I said, turning. I leaned up against the handrail, trying to look
nonchalant. “You don’t have to walk me all the way to my car.”

“You’re ruining my chivalrous moment,” he answered, feigning
offense. He braced a hand on the wall next to me, moving so close that I sucked
in my breath, hardly daring to move. “How am I supposed to play the knight in
shining armor if you won’t even let me walk you to your car?”

“I’m just trying to be polite,” I protested weakly, gripping
the handrail behind my back. His messy hair was practically begging me to run
my fingers through it.

His smile was faint, but his gaze was serious as he looked
at me. “So am I. What’s your name?”

“Eve. Eve Samuels.”

He must have known I was melting under his gaze, because he
was very careful not to move any closer. It was a good thing, too, because my
knees were trembling as it was. “It’s a pleasure, Eve. I’m Jericho.”

“Jericho? Like the city?”

“Like the city,” he repeated.

It was unusual, but somehow fitting.
 
“I like it,” I told him, and my pulse
quickened when he lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I like Eve,” he said, and offered me his arm. “Are you
ready?”

After some hesitation, I wound my arm through his, letting
my fingers rest in the crook of his elbow. The fabric of his shirt was soft
against my skin, and I had to resist the urge to cling to him a little tighter.
I’d never felt such a strong physical reaction to anyone before, and that made
me feel even more ridiculous. I’m not the type to let strange men accompany me
into parking garages. I’m definitely not the type to swoon over a guy. Yet here
I was, ready to dissolve at the merest touch from this stranger.

I stayed quiet as we climbed the stairs, and thankfully he
didn’t question my silence.

When we got to my car, I withdrew my hand from Jericho’s arm
and accepted my hoodie back from him. “Thanks again. I’m pretty sure you’ve met
your chivalry quota for the year.”

“If I’m going to be honest,” he replied with a smile, “I had
my own selfish reasons, and they had little to do with chivalry.”

His smile sent a shiver down my spine. I lowered my eyes and
fumbled in my pocket for my keys. I opened my car door, but before I sat down,
I turned back to Jericho. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then.”

“I hope so.” He reached out his hand, and I took it.

The electricity that zinged through me when our bare hands
touched was indescribable- and impossible to ignore. For a long moment we stood
there, staring at each other.

“Do you feel that?” I whispered.

He let go of my hand almost immediately, and took a step
back. “Goodnight, Eve,” he answered quietly, eyes boring into mine.

My hand curled against my leg, my fingernails digging into
my jeans. “I’ve got to get home,” I muttered, and ducked into the driver’s seat
of my car, almost dropping my keys in my haste. When I’d pulled my feet in, he
closed the door, effectively placing a barrier between us. I started the car
and pulled out of my parking spot, purposely avoiding looking at Jericho.

My head was spinning as I drove to Gram’s house. It was all
I could do to focus on the road signs to make sure I didn’t miss my turns. Who
was
that guy? And what was that spark
I’d felt when he touched me? I’d felt tingles with Max, which was to be
expected with any good-looking guy, but the flash of electricity I’d just
experienced with Jericho went way beyond anything I’d felt before.

I scraped my hair back off my forehead with my hand and blew
out a breath. No matter what kind of chemistry I’d felt with Jericho, odds were
that I’d never see him again. He’d said he was from out of town and had no idea
how long he would be staying. Besides, he hadn’t even asked for my phone
number. He obviously had no intentions of contacting me.

I’d had a quasi-boyfriend in New York, the kind of high
school romance that fizzles out once you realize that neither of you have
anything in common outside of attending the same school for four years. I
hadn’t met any boys near my age since moving to Rapid City, but as I’d told
Gram, I would probably end up making friends at school in the fall. This
summer, I just wanted some time to myself.

It felt strange to be a high school graduate, and stranger
still to be just days away from my eighteenth birthday, but the fact that I was
actually living in South Dakota- a place I’d only visited a few times as a
child- was the most unsettling part of my new life. Grandma Sam and I had
always been as close as two people separated by five states could be, and when
I’d confided in her about how stressful the divorce had become, she had
immediately suggested I come stay with her. Originally it had just been for the
summer, but after my mother revealed that she was moving her new boyfriend in
with us, things had changed.

I still don’t really know what happened with my parents.
They always seemed happy to me, until one day I arrived home from school in the
middle of a truly epic shouting match, after which my dad packed a bag and
moved out…and never came back. A month later, I met my mom’s boyfriend, and a
few weeks after that, my dad introduced me to Anna. Their relationship soon disintegrated
into constant fighting. The morning of my flight, my dad had arrived to pick me
up to take me to the airport, and my mother had thrown her wedding ring at him
as I was walking out the door. The ring had hit his jacket and fallen to the
carpet, and my dad and I just stood there in the hallway, staring down at the
thin gold band. Neither of us had any idea how to react.

“You can take that back to the pawn shop you bought it
from,” my mother snapped from behind me. There was a long pause as she waited
for a reaction.

“Let’s go,” I had said finally, and my dad nodded, grabbing
my rolling suitcase and one of my duffel bags and following me down the
corridor. The sound of my mother slamming our apartment door reverberated down
the hallway.

My dad seemed to be handling the separation better than my
mom…with the notable exception of his relationship with Anna, the
twenty-five-year-old grad student. I wasn’t blind to the probability that Anna
was, in fact, the reason why my parents had split in the first place, but I
didn’t really want to know for certain. My relationship with my father was
tenuous enough right now without adding the bitterness of infidelity to the
mix.
 

I turned down the road leading to Grandma Sam’s house. Although
she only lived about fifteen miles from downtown Rapid City, the half-hour
drive might as well have been a journey to a different world. Surrounded by
trees and at least a mile from our closest neighbor, the house was completely
isolated. I could stand on the balcony outside my room and scream at the top of
my lungs, and no one would hear me. It was a refreshing change from the West
Village, even if I did occasionally have nightmares about all the horror movies
I’d seen involving cabins in the woods.

Appropriately, Grandma Sam’s house was a tri-level log cabin
with a stone foundation. Gram’s master suite was on the bottom level, along
with the guest room, and my room was in the loft. I’d picked that room
specifically for the glorious view from its attached balcony, even though it
was the smaller of the two guest rooms.
 

As I pulled into the driveway, my headlights illuminated the
barn door, which was unlatched and standing open. I frowned and stopped the
car. Gram usually kept the barn locked up tight at night. There were too many
bears, mountain lions and various other predators prowling the Black Hills to
leave the horses without protection.

After some hesitation, I moved my foot back to the gas pedal
and turned the steering wheel, driving up to the barn and angling the car so
that the lights were shining on the double doors. I shifted the car into park
and leaned forward, trying to see inside. The barn door wasn’t opened wide
enough for me to see anything, so I sat there for a moment.

I was very likely overreacting. Gram probably just forgot to
latch the door, and it had drifted open after she’d already gone to bed.

I grabbed my cell phone and got out of the car. As I walked
closer to the barn, I knew immediately that something was wrong. The horses
inside were milling around, the sound of their hoof beats frantic in the cool
night air.

I pulled the barn door open, trying to remember which side
the light switch was on, and froze as I saw two glowing eyes in the darkness.

There was a muck rake leaning up against the opposite barn
door, and my hand went to it instinctively. I backed away, slowly, trying not
to draw any attention to myself. Gram had always said that the worst thing to
do when encountering a wild animal was to run.

As the creature moved into the beam of my headlights, I could
see that it was a wolf- the biggest wolf I’d ever seen, with startling green
eyes so vivid that they almost didn’t look real.

My first thought was,
This
isn’t happening.

It was impossible for a wolf to be that big- and I was
pretty sure wolves didn’t have green eyes, either. Was I dreaming? Was this
just another cabin-in-the-woods nightmare?

My hand tightened on the rake, and the wood was rough
against my fingers. The wolf stalked me, advancing as I backed away, the
hackles on its neck rising.

It suddenly lunged at me, without any warning whatsoever.

I had no time to think- I just grabbed the rake in both
hands and thrust it out in front of me, the handle colliding with the wolf’s
muzzle mid-leap. I fell backwards onto the hood of my car, my cell phone
spurting from beneath my fingers as I fought to maintain my grip on the rake.