La Vida Vampire (31 page)

His too-innocent expression made me ask, “Did you talk to Etienne?”

“I had a word or ten with him.”

“And you said what?”

Saber waggled his brows. “I may have mentioned prison as a viable alternative to another cat attack.”

“Have I mentioned you’re evil?”

Saber shrugged. “He shot you twice.”

“I can add. That nutcase owes me two costumes and a paint job for my truck.”

“Princesca,” Saber said, shaking his head and shifting closer, “are you going to shut up long enough to let me kiss you?”

“Are we finished fighting?”

“Yep.”

“Is kissing all you have in mind?” I asked as I snuggled against him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Hell, no,” he said with a grin. “I need a shower, too.”

I didn’t drink my Starbloods until a long time later.

My first real date with Saber wasn’t a normal one, but nothing in my afterlife had been normal since he swept into it. He wanted to see me surf, so Friday about two hours before sunset we met at Crescent Beach. I brought my new surfboard—the one Neil helped me select—and an Igloo ice chest stocked with wine for Saber and store-bought sweet tea for me. Saber showed up in his sexy swim trunks—the man did have well-muscled legs and a butt I could squeeze forever. He also brought crispy fried chicken with all the fixin’s.

We rubbed our wet bodies together in the waves a while. I wanted to reenact the beach scene I’d seen in an old movie, but Saber insisted I surf before darkness fell.

Now, as I paddled out to catch the last wave of the day, Saber sat on the shore watching from our beach blanket. The sunset burst in pinks and purples and indigo blues. Maybe the scene wasn’t everyone’s picture of a romantic setting, but with Saber there, it was mine.

A big wave surged under my board, and I sprang to my feet to ride it in. I waved at Saber; he waved back. The moment was perfection.

Then my gaze was drawn to the dunes and to a man who stood with one hip cocked. Just the way Triton used to stand. I squinted at the lone figure, vampire vision kicking in.

It was him. Triton. From the distance, our gazes locked. Then he looked down at Saber. I don’t know if I made so much as a peep out loud, but in my head I cried Triton’s name and all but flew out of the surf. I was still attached to my board by the leg leash as I hit the sand, and I stumbled a step before ripping the Velcro free of my ankle. Saber shouted and pounded after me as I scrambled up the dune, but it was empty. I scanned the boardwalks to the beach houses, the patio of the nearby restaurant, even the rolling dunes of native scrub plants. No one was there.

Triton had vanished, but a golden dolphin charm just like the one he used to wear twinkled in the sand. Saber stood quietly at my side for a moment while questions I couldn’t ask swirled. Why did Triton leave? Would he find me again? Where did he live now, when did he get to town, how long was he staying? I waited for the wrenching ache of longing for Triton to rip into my heart, but it didn’t come.

Oh, I still yearned to see him—to touch him and talk to him—but only as a long-treasured friend. The soul-deep pain was gone. Somehow, somewhere, I’d let it go.

Saber shifted around me and scooped up the charm. He cradled my hand, dropped the charm in it, and closed my fingers over the precious metal warm from the sand. Then Saber threaded his fingers through my hair and tilted my face to his.

“Did that belong to Triton?”

“I think so.”

“The way you streaked out of the water, you just think so?”

“It was his. I saw him.”

Saber’s thumbs made little circles on my temples. “I can’t compete with your past, Cesca.”

The charm in my fist, I slid my arms around Saber’s waist and smiled.

“There is no competition, Saber.”

“You sure?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I fit my body into his and felt him stir. “I’m through brooding over my past.”

“You are?” His voice went just a little hoarse. “Why?”

“Because my present with you is such a kick.”