Drawing Deep (4 page)

Not good. Not good at all.

Did I bring my binoculars?

When that inane thought popped into her mind, she shook it free, and watched with greedy eyes as Santos walked the line of trees with a casual swagger. Every now and then he would reach up and trail his fingers over an orange, and she wanted to whimper.

Disgusted at herself – though she didn’t seem to be turning her back on the sight of him now did she? – Ria took another drag from her cigarette, letting his image blur behind a veil of smoke when she slowly exhaled. She must be suffering from jet lag. Or indigestion. Or
something
. No way did she have the hots for a shifter.

As she wrapped her lips around the filter one last time, two things happened. Santos abruptly turned his head, his gaze unwaveringly focused in her direction, and her cell phone, in the outside pocket of her jacket, let out what seemed to be a shrill ring in the still, nearly silent morning.

Startled, Ria choked and coughed and blinked as tears blurred her vision. By the time she got herself under control, Santos was gone, as was the caller.

“No wonder they say these things will kill you,” she rasped to herself as she dropped the butt into a partially filled plastic cup of water she’d used last evening.

Walking back inside, she headed for the mini-fridge located under the vanity and yanked out the coke Gwen had provided in last night’s snack basket. She checked her phone, then frowned at the number that popped on the screen. Dax. With the two-hour time difference it was nearly four-thirty in the morning back home. Not that it wasn’t unusual for him to be up at this hour. He was a bartender at his family-run nightclub, and a vampire himself, but as they’d seen each other only days ago, the call was odd. At one time they’d been close, at least physically, but her walls of self-preservation and the horrors of her childhood had created a barrier to anything more. They’d manage to part as friends of a sort, with a measure of concern and caring on both sides.

“Everything all right?” She asked the second he answered.

“With us, yes. You, I’m not so sure about.” Us was his family, which now extended to his very pregnant, loving, and pretty wife. A perky human woman Ria had come to approve and care for as well. “An older man came in last night, flashing your picture around – a recent one at that – and asking if anyone had seen you.”

Heart coming to a screeching halt, Ria slowly sank down onto the bed. “What did he look like?”

“Not a vamp or shifter, but not totally human either. Late fifties. Five-eleven. Light brown hair liberal with gray. Grey-blue eyes. Had a couple other men with him. Muscle was my take. Ring any bells?”

A greasy ball of terror coiled in her chest. “Maybe.” The single word strangled in her throat.

“Dammit, Ria. He resembled you so much he could have been your father.”

Which he was. Her older sister favored their long-deceased vampiric mother in both looks and attitude, while Ria had been told more than once – and punished often for it – that her rebellious nature flowed directly from her paternal grandmother. Tossed out into the savage wilderness with nothing but a baby boy in her arms, Mala hadn’t lasted long before she was attacked by a wolf shifter bent on revenge against the cruelty and prejudices great-grandaddy Kalin inflicted on the surrounding shifter community. Mala had fought with her sorcery, the shifter with teeth and claws. Only a subdued baby had been found alive when Kalin rescinded his order and had sent guards out to retrieve his only child.

Refusing to take any blame in the matter, Kalin became even more obsessed with his zealous quest to inflict destruction on those who carried a beast in their soul, yet ignored his own blackening one. He raised his grandson in the same way, passing on a twisted and evil legacy.

“Did...” Mouth drier than dirt, Ria paused to take a drink, though her stomach revolted. “Did you tell him you knew me?”

What seemed like an endless period of silence passed. Not a good sign. She must have made some sound of distress because Dax finally spoke, quiet apology coating his tone, “I had no choice, Ria. He hit the tables before the bar and I overheard some asshole say he saw you talking to me last Saturday. It’s a damn good thing I did too, otherwise this guy would have become suspicious.”

“Someone remembered me?”

Dax let out a curse. “You’re hard not to. Few women can wear hair that short and still look hot. Then there’s the curves you couldn’t hide under a potato sack. You look like a white Halle Berry. With a bigger butt. Not easily forgettable.”

Reflexively, she ran a hand through the short, wavy, thick strands, saying in defense, “If the picture was recent than it wouldn’t matter if it was long, short or dyed orange.”

Dax let out a frustrated sound. “True. But, babe, he offered me a grand to give him a phone call the next time I saw you.”

Ria carefully set the bottle of coke on the nightstand when her shaking hand threatened to spill the contents. “Shit.”

“Indeed. It’s possible he made the same offer to a couple others. When you get back in town, stay away from the bar.”

She wanted to scream with the injustice of it all. “Stay away from the bar? I’m going to have to stay away from the city.” Staying on the move meant safety, but she’d thought she might have another few years to call New Mexico home, especially since her job kept her traveling for long periods of time. Yet it seemed time had just slipped through her fingers like so much sand.

Closing her eyes against a wave of anger and despair, she ignored the beep on her phone signaling an incoming call.

“As much as I’d hate to see that happen, it might be best. Anyway you can hang where you’re at for awhile? Give the old man time to get frustrated and move on?”

A possibility she had no desire to test. Between her continued irritation with her boss and now her father’s sudden appearance back home, Ria knew it was time to move on. But not here. “Hello? Shifters? Remember? Besides, Chris only plans on being here for a week unless something pretty phenomenal happens.”

“Just think about it. I’ve told you before, not all vamps and shifters have this weird Hatfield and McCoy viewpoint that you do. However,” he pressed on before she could interrupt, “you have to admit they’re incredibly powerful creatures. Frankly, from what you’ve told me, all the males there are alphas. We’re talking uber tough, Ria. I honestly don’t know any safer place.”

“Unless they hate vampires.”

“Which you’ll never know until you ask.”

Ria snorted. “Oh, I can just picture that conversation. Hi. I’m a vamp. Do you mind if I hang with you awhile or do you plan on shredding me to pieces?”

Dax exhaled so loud it made a whoosh noise through the phone. “You’re prejudice is showing, and it’s not pretty, girl. Feel them out, and maybe ease off the cigarettes. One a day. Enough to mask your scent from other vamps, but light enough to make the cats curious.”

“And if they kill me?”

A pause. “Well. You’ll die knowing you were right.”

Her eyes rolled. “That’s comforting.”

Dax chuckled. “Only because you know
I’m
right. I’ve had more experience with the fuzz balls. Trust me. We may no longer be together, but you know I’d never steer you toward danger.”

Ria gazed up at the idle ceiling fan over the bed. “I know. You’ve always been better to me then I deserved.”

“No, babe. You deserve happiness. Everyone does. You only need to lean how to love yourself before you can love anyone else.”

Uncomfortable at the direction their conversation had turned, Ria rubbed agitated fingers over the comforter. She’d rather talk about blood and death than emotional introspection. “Working on it.”

“My advice?”

“Yeah?”

“Work faster.” Dax hung up, making Ria glare at the phone.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, staring at nothing as she tried to process everything: her father, her job, her home. Herself. Should she stay or should she go? Should she tell the Felix family what she was and hope for the best, or not?

Frozen by indecision, she twitched when her phone let out a discreet chime informing her of a new text. Lifting the device, she scanned the message from Lance.

Boss pissed u missed breakfast. Stuck u on towing detail. Melinda will explain. Sorry.

Nice. She flung an arm over her eyes, thinking what she should do is just go back to bed and start this horrible day over again.

Though not particularly hungry after Dax’s call, the rich scent of bacon teased her nose and belly into waking hunger before she even reached the dining room. Ria scooped scrambled eggs, crisp bacon and a small pile of fruit onto her plate from the buffet laid out on top of the sideboard and made her way to an open seat. There were plenty. As in all of them. She was currently the only occupant in the room, which suited her mood. Trying to make polite conversation at a time when she only wanted to wallow in fear and frustration – and stuff her face at the same time – would simply tax her already stretched-too-thin nerves.

Biting into the bacon alleviated her mood a notch. The second piece easing her even more.

The magic of comfort food.

After stuffing the last piece of melon into her mouth, she eyed the chafing dishes, contemplating seconds. Or possibly absconding with one of those muffins. She had nothing else to do until Melinda appeared to explain the whole towing thing Lance had texted her about. Though she wanted to get out onto the site and get to work, it was still chilly out, and she might just whack Chris over the head with a shovel if he so much as looked at her wrong.

“There you are,” Melinda swept into the dining room with a bright smile that reflected in her sparkling hazel eyes. A warm, welcoming expression that made Ria once again uneasy. She got that hospitality was Melinda’s business and people paying to stay at the bed-and-breakfast expected such a reception, but Ria wasn’t exactly here for pleasure.

She wondered if that smile would falter if she told the other woman her secret, or blurted out that she knew exactly what her husband and sons really were.

No. She just couldn’t do it. She found she rather liked being the recipient of that smile. “Here I am. Breakfast was wonderful. Thank you.”

Melinda pulled out a chair across from Ria and sat down in a graceful flow. “Our pleasure.” She nodded at Ria’s empty plate. “There’s plenty more if you want seconds.”

“No. I’m good. Thanks.” Ria brushed her hands over her khaki-colored bush pants. “Besides, I should probably get going. Lance said something about towing duty?”

“Hmm. Yes. We were able to gather many of the items requested and have them loaded in a small trailer. Have you ever driven a quad runner before?”

Ria blinked. Ah. That’s what Lance meant. “I have actually. We use them in places a larger vehicle can’t go. They’re great for hauling.” Or hurriedly pulling several buried items free from their underwater grave to the side of a forested river bed before a rival group of treasure seekers could hunt them down.

Melinda nodded and looked Ria over. “Good. Do you have a jacket and a hat. It will warm up later, but it’s still a bit chilly out and I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

The motherly concern nudged the edge of Ria’s heart. “In my bag.” She glanced down at the floor by her chair where she’d set her backpack before taking a seat.

“All right, then.” Melinda stood and reached for Ria’s empty plate, waving off her objection. “The maintenance shed is behind the crop shop where Porter’s hooking everything up. We’ll go through the kitchen as it’s faster, and then I’ll show you the way.”

Hearing the sound of footsteps from the foyer and the unmistakeable chatter of children as other guests grew close to the dining room, Ria snatched up her pack – and one of the wrapped muffins – and hastened after Melinda through the butler pantry. “Oh. You don’t have to do that. I remember where the shop is.” It wasn’t like the big, tan metal building was hard to miss.

Pushing through the still-moving swinging doors that separated the kitchen from the dining area, Ria jerked to a stop, eyes goggling at the sight of Rome wielding a rather sharp looking knife at the counter. He sent her a quick nod over his shoulder, not ceasing in his task of cutting carrots. Annie was working some dough not far from him.

“You know Rome and Annie.” Melinda said, crossing behind a young blonde woman at the kitchen sink washing a large pot. Ria’s hostess placed the dirty plate and utensils in the dishwasher, not bothering to rinse them first as Ria had pretty much licked it clean.

“Yes. Good morning.”

“This is Sarah. She is, for lack of a better term, one of our maids slash prep cooks. She assists Annie in whatever needs to be done to keep the b&b running smoothly and our guests happy.”

Sarah turned her head to give Ria a shy smile. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“Ria is one of our special guests.” At Melinda’s words, Ria’s brows puckered.
What did that mean?

Luckily Annie spoke before the blunt question could make it to her lips. “Did you enjoy breakfast?”

Ria’s features smoothed out. “Yes. Very much. Thank you.”

The elderly woman set the dough into a large metal bowl and covered it with a towel. “I hear your men left you alone to do the grunt work. I must say, I don’t approve.”

“Annie.” Melinda scolded.

“Actually, I got the better end of the deal.” Ria grinned at the show of offense on her behalf. “I’ll only be towing the equipment on a quad, not breaking my back while I lug it out on foot.”

Annie’s face split and she let out a snicker. “Serves them right. Rome, get that thermos, will you?”

Without a word, Rome reached for a cylinder container on the counter and handed it, along with a small cooler, to Ria. The objection died in her throat when he said in a low voice, “It’s best not to question or argue. Trust me on this.”

“I remembered you’re not big on coffee, so that’s filled with my spiced chai tea latte.” Annie told her.

Ria lifted bright eyes to the woman who was quickly becoming her most favorite person in the world. “Like what you gave me last time?”

“Of course. Now that thermos is not to be shared, you hear me? That’s all yours. Same as the cooler. The others have their own.”

“Thank you so much.” Ria’s lips curved in a wide, natural smile. This was beyond hospitality.

Annie marched over to the sink. “Welcome. Mind you this won’t be an everyday occurrence so don’t be thinking you’ll have a packed lunch each morning. Starting tomorrow, if you want lunch, you’ll need to make it yourself. Same as the others in your group. I might be the cook, but I’m not their mother.”