Cunningham, Pat - Legacy [Sequel to Belonging] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (12 page)

His nostrils didn’t flare. His chest didn’t rise or fall. The only part of him currently twitching was—

Oh, dear God, he was naked.

Wallace continued to stare at her. His one-eyed little buddy—“That ain’t no way little,” her inner Norelle voice snarked—rose up to stare at her, too. Colleen yanked her own stare upward to that muscular, motionless chest.

“You weren’t breathing,” she repeated weakly.

“Yeah, I gave that up when I died. Down, boy.” He slapped his thickening penis. “You like busting in on people when they’re trying to sleep?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Some guard you are,” Wallace grumbled at Jeremy. “I should just get a dog. Is that my robe?” His eyes, a normal, human green once more, treated themselves to a thorough study of her body. “Looks good on you. Okay with you if I go back to bed now?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again before Jeremy thrust her into the hallway. Wallace called out after her. “Next time you want some, sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”

Jeremy slammed the door on Wallace’s chortle. His stormy eyes boiled with fury. “What were you thinking? You don’t disturb a vampire when he’s asleep. He could have killed you.”

“He wasn’t breathing.” Under the blast of his glare Colleen weakly admitted, “I wanted to see if he really slept in a coffin.”

Jeremy muttered a curse and raked his hair out of his eyes. “No, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin. He doesn’t turn into a bat or a wolf or a cloud of smoke, either. He does get pissed off if people wake him up during daylight. So do I. Don’t ever do that again.”

No chance of that. Wallace’s fangs right up in her face had cured her curiosity quite nicely. “He’s really…he’s really…I thought you two were, I don’t know, D&D geeks or something.”

Jeremy sighed. “You’re not making this any easier.” He snatched her bags off the floor and shoved them at her. “If you still want to pick up your stuff, we should get going.”

He made it clear he wasn’t going to budge from in front of Wallace’s door until after she made herself scarce. Colleen complied by darting into the bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

* * * *

Colleen let close to an hour lapse before she dared to reemerge. When she peeked outside the bedroom, the hallway was empty. She heard Jeremy downstairs, making deliberate noise. Giving the opposite bedroom as wide a berth as the short hallway would allow, Colleen went down to face the music.

One look and she knew he wasn’t angry anymore. Colleen caught her breath. His look said “lust” in all caps and italic, and she knew what brought it on. She wore her only change of clothes, the clingy blue dress with its flirty skirt and her new black three-inch heels. Even with minimal makeup, she’d achieved her intended aim and gotten a hot guy’s attention. She just hadn’t intended it to be this hot guy, or here, or under these circumstances.

They spoke in unison. “I’m sorry.”

Jeremy held up his hand. “Me first. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. It’s just that he’s really vulnerable during the day. I get overprotective.”

“No, I was wrong. I was way out of line. I shouldn’t have gone in there. Believe me, I’m never that snoopy. Well, not much.”

“I’ll bet.” He smiled faintly. “As long as you never do it again. He could have really hurt you.”

“I promise not to go near him again. Even when he’s awake.”

“Good luck with that.” He swallowed hard and averted his eyes. “There’s something else we need to talk about. What’s going on between us. You and me.”

She didn’t need to ask him to explain. She’d been on the verge of moving toward him, just to apologize, or maybe more. His words stopped her just in time. “There’s nothing going on.”

“Yes, there is.” He raised his eyes to hers again. The naked hunger in them sent a rush of desire straight to her loins. Funny, the dress hadn’t felt so tight, or the neckline so plunging, when she’d tried it on last night.

“I want you,” he said baldly. “You’re psychic. You have to know it. What about you?”

She didn’t answer. Her flaming cheeks spoke for themselves.

“Okay.” He was flushing, too. “So what do we do about it?”

“Other than the obvious, you mean?”

He laughed shakily. “I’m open to suggestions. Want to hear Wallace’s?”

“You told him?”

“I didn’t have to. That’s how obvious this is. He thinks we should, uh, scratch our itch and get it over with.”

“Wow. Generous of him.”

“And polite. He’s usually a lot cruder.” His expression shifted into one of apology. “I swear I’m not always like this. I’m not normally interested, in, um…”

She had to smile. “Women?”

“The living.”

Oh. Well. That sure made her decision easier. “I’m not like this either. I don’t date married men, or help them scratch their itches. Even if they have their partner’s permission.” Even if her own itch could do with a robust scratch, and she wanted Jeremy to do the scratching.

“Okay, then.” He was trying desperately hard to sound relieved. “You ready to go? In the car, I mean. To your place. To get your stuff.”

“Look, I can stay with Norelle or somebody. I don’t have to stay here if it’s going to be this big a problem.”

“It’s not a problem. There’s no point in putting your friends in danger. Just so we’re clear on everything.”

“We’re good,” she said. That was half true. One of them was good. Jeremy had Wallace to scratch his itches. But hey. Colleen dealt with preschoolers on a daily basis. She’d get through it. She was tough.

The second this mess was over, she resolved to seriously start dating again.

Chapter 7

They left her car at the curb out front and took Jeremy’s. The world looked so different from last night, with everything shiny and normal. Especially the people, with their laughing, fangless mouths. Colleen caught herself staring at teeth and looked at the dashboard instead.

She said, “Vampires are real.”

Jeremy glanced at her, his eyes full of sympathy. “I’m afraid so.”

“How about werewolves?”

“Them, too. There aren’t many packs around here. They like to be near woods. I’ve seen coyotes, though. They’re more adaptable, and they love the beach. I’ve heard there are cat-shifters in LA, but I only ever met one. A jaguar. Man, was he finicky.”

“Demons?”

“They’re rare, but they’re out there.”

“Zombies?”

“Never met one.”

“Ghosts?”

“Never met one of those either, but I know people who have.”

“Aliens?”

He chuckled. “Don’t be silly.”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He spoke so matter-of-factly about knowing monsters from creature features. Heck, he lived with one. Slept with one.

“How’d you get involved with Wallace? Did he sneak up behind you and bite you or something?”

“Hardly. He doesn’t bite humans, as a rule.” He shot her a furtive glance, as if he wanted to trust her with something monumental. More shocking than sleeping with a vampire?

“I met him on my last job,” he said, his gaze trained on the street beyond the windshield. “He was a client of mine.”

“Right. The customer service job.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I used to be a prostitute.”

They had come to a red light. He looked her straight in the eyes when he said it, without a hint of humor or deceit. “There used to be a brothel in San Rudolfo that catered to what we call ‘nightsiders.’ Vampires, werewolves, demons even. I’ve slept with a lot of things you don’t believe in. I won’t apologize for it. I like vampires, and I needed a job.” The light changed. Jeremy took off at an even speed. “I don’t do that anymore, though. Wallace likes to keep me all to himself, and I don’t mind letting him.”

Okay, w-a-a-a-a-a-y too much information.
Colleen edged up against the passenger door, her desire effectively squelched. Perhaps that had been his intention. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Let’s see. Vampires, prostitution—no, I think we’re covered. How about you? You hiding any secrets?”

“I grew up in a hippie commune, I’m psychic, and I was adopted. Those are the biggies. You’ve got me beat by a long shot. If I think of anything else, I’ll tell you. Promise.”

His revelations put an end to further conversation. They arrived at Colleen’s apartment building wrapped in uncomfortable silence. Colleen couldn’t help staring around the parking lot, at one spot of blacktop in particular. No stains. Certainly a man stabbed through the heart with a wooden stake would bleed all over the place. There did appear to be smudges that might have been ash. She hastily looked away again.

Yet another concern reared its paranoid head outside her apartment door. “What if they got in? What if they’re in there right now, waiting for us?”

“They aren’t,” Jeremy assured her. “Vampires can’t enter a private dwelling unless they’re invited in. That’s why they had to call you outside.”

His prediction proved correct. Colleen’s wary glance inside revealed her apartment just as she’d left it, slippers under the coffee table and everything. No signs of a break-in, no sense of menace. With a sigh of relief, she went in. Having Jeremy at her back boosted her courage enormously.

“I’ll only be a minute,” she said. “Make yourself at home.”

“No problem. I want to call Gus anyway.” He drew his cell from his pocket. “That commune you grew up in. What was it called again?”

“The Woods and the Waters.” Already halfway to her bedroom, she paused. “Why? Do you think it’s important?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I swear I’ve heard that name before.”

“I don’t know where or why you would. We were just a bunch of hippies living in the woods.”

“Somebody mentioned it. At home, I think. I wish there was someone to call.” A shadow passed across his face before he quelled it. “Well, it’ll come to me. Go ahead, and get your stuff.”

“I won’t be long,” she promised again. He nodded, already on the phone.

In her bedroom Colleen carefully hung up her club dress and pulled out more sensible attire. She deliberately picked out the least alluring items in her closet, what she dubbed her Sunday uniform—her brother Michael’s old UCLA sweatshirt and a pair of baggy jeans too worn for anything but sofa-surfing. She filled her tote bag with a change of undies, toiletries, and a fresh blouse and slacks for Monday morning. She didn’t bother with makeup. Even if she only stayed the night, she didn’t want to torment Jeremy, or herself, any more than necessary.

At the bureau, she paused and studied her cell phone. Call the cops anyway? Jeremy was still in the living room. He’d never hear her.

Yes, officer, I was attacked by a vampire. No, he’s dead. The other vampire rammed a stake through his chest. The body? You see that smear in the parking lot? The other one’s dead, too. Please don’t try to wake him, he gets really grouchy. Would you like to talk to his slave?

Oh yeah, that’d go over real well.

She picked up her cell and dialed, but not the police. “Hey, Norelle? It’s Col. Look, about tonight…”

With tote bag in hand and still on the phone, Colleen returned to the living room. Jeremy stood by the window, watching the street. He raised his eyebrows slightly at her latest outfit, but didn’t comment.