The Twisted Kiss: Doomsyear, Book 1 (7 page)

Christian paced to the fireplace and back, pushing a hand through his hair. “What the fuck, man? No one told me this would happen. It’s like Kylie has rented part of my skull. I can sense where she is and how she’s feeling. Last night, it was like being in a nightmare. I was a wolf, running down a deer in the woods, and I could feel her ecstasy with you. I knew it when she came”—he turned and speared him with an angry gaze—“
three
times.”

Michael held up a hand. “No sense getting competitive. It’s the chemicals from my bite that helps a woman come that often and so strong.”

“I made her scream my name twice without any help,” Christian countered with a growl.

Michael didn’t rise to the bait. He just stood there, watching Christian pace back and forth.

“The council never told me this would happen. What the fuck is it from?”

“They never told me it would happen either. I think it must have something to do with the fact that we’re supes and she’s human. Whatever the reason, I like it. What’s your problem?”

Christian rounded on him. “My problem is I’m sharing Kylie only because I
have
to share her. I’m enduring this, but I hate it and I don’t fucking want to know when you’re screwing her brains out.”

“You’re jealous.”

“Yes, I’m fucking jealous.”

“And you think I’m not?” Michael’s voice had risen a notch and his dark eyes flashed. It was the first time he’d ever seen the vamp show any temper. “You had her first. You think that didn’t suck for me?”

“Yeah, well, you made up for it by
sucking
the next night.”

Michael turned away from him and walked to the large window overlooking the well-kept yard. Christian had known Michael had inherited some bucks when his father had passed, but he hadn’t known exactly how much dough the vamp was rolling in. “We can’t do this. We have to find a way to ally ourselves. For her sake.”

Christian sank into a nearby chair. “I know.”

Michael walked back toward him. “She’s entranced by both of us now, but it’s a shallow attraction. Sexual. Her mind and body sense the emotional bond that you and I already know we share with her, but she’s resisting it. All she wants from us right now—”

“Is our bodies.” Christian gave a rough laugh.

“Something like that.”

“She’ll come around to us. She has to.”

Michael shrugged. “The past weighs heavy on her. She’s scared.”

“Do you think she feels the same psychic connection to us?”

Michael shook his head. “She’s human, remember?”

“We can’t let her run away from us.”

“I have no intention of ever letting her go.” Michael raised his brows in challenge. “How about you?”

“Never.”

Chapter Seven

Kylie wrapped herself in an afghan she’d been told her grandmother had knitted and reclined on the couch in her living room. Outside, the world had gone cold quick. Winter was definitely on its way. A chilly rain had started this morning and hadn’t quit all day.

Luckily the bar was closed today, so she didn’t have to go out unless she wanted to. And it seemed that both Christian and Michael were giving her a little space. That was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, stupidly, she missed them. On the other, she was glad to have some time to get her head together.

There were about fifty things she could do with her rainy day off. The house needed a little bit of a cleaning. Most people didn’t like to clean their houses, but she enjoyed it. It gave her a sense of accomplishment—seeing direct results from her labor. It was also kind of a zen experience for her. While she cleaned, she was perfectly in the moment, not thinking of the past or the future or any of her problems.

Maybe cleaning was exactly the right activity for today.

Then there was her almost-finished piece of artwork in the barn. Sighing, she gazed out toward the red building on the other side of her yard. She could bundle herself up and head over there. She had a wood stove that made the area nice and cozy when she wasn’t playing with her blowtorch.

Yet something was holding her back from finishing up the piece, and she didn’t know what it was. There should be nothing preventing her from putting the final touches on it. After all, she’d started it as therapy of a sort, an effort for her to work through her emotions using metal and fire. It had worked.

Maybe that’s what was holding her back—maybe some part of her was unwilling to give up her coping strategy. Or maybe she just wasn’t ready to let go of the guilt that had gripped her for so long it felt like a biological part of her.

“Whatever.” Her mutter sounded loud in the quiet house.

Flipping off the afghan, she went for a rag and the can of cleaner.

She threw herself into cleaning with such total abandon that before she knew it, it was evening. As she was wiping down the kitchen counters, her last task for the day, she had a sudden flash of Michael and Christian walking up to her door. She stopped with the rag in her hand and lifted her head, frowning. How odd.

The doorbell rang.

Her frown deepened. Even odder.

Abandoning her work, she walked down the short corridor to the front door. Through the heavy glass, she could see the outlines of two men. Her two men, she was sure.

She jerked a little at the thought.

Her two men.

According to the council they were, but did she want them? Ah, now that was a complicated question. Yes, of course, she wanted them. She would have to be half-dead not to want them—the real question was did she deserve to have them?

She touched her hair, which she’d tucked under her handkerchief while she’d cleaned, and grimaced. Oh, well, there wasn’t much she could do about her appearance at this point. She opened the door to find Michael and Christian standing there, both with bags of groceries in their hands.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, still holding a cleaning rag in her hand.

“It’s dinnertime.” Christian jerked his head toward the brown fabric sack he carried. “We came to feed you.”

She took a step back into the foyer to allow them through. Her annoyance at their presumption was tempered by the fact her stomach was growling and she didn’t have much in the house at the moment. “How did you know I’d be home? I could be out with Carolyn or something right now.”

Christian and Michael exchanged a look. Michael caught her gaze. “We have to talk to you about that.”

She wrinkled her brow at him. “Okay, but can I wash up first? I’ve been cleaning all day.”

Christian headed for the kitchen. “Go ahead while we start dinner.”

“Take your time.” Michael’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he followed Christian down the hall.

She watched them go, perplexed. It actually appeared they’d gone shopping at the local farmer’s co-op and now they were going to cook…
together?
She wasn’t sure her heart could stand it if they’d joined forces.

After she’d cleaned up and dressed in a soft sweater and a pair of jeans, she returned downstairs to find the dining room table set and delicious scents wafting from her kitchen. She dragged a wide-toothed comb through her hair as she entered the room. “Yum. What are you making?”

Christian turned from tending something on the stove. “Steak with roasted veggies and potatoes.”

She smiled. Sounded like a meal a man would choose. “I’m starving.”

“Good. It’s almost ready.”

Once dinner was served, they sat down at the table and began to eat. “So, you two just decided to come on over here and make me a meal, huh?” she asked, her gaze sliding between the two men.

Christian shrugged. “Why not?”

“It’s just that I didn’t have the impression either of you were all that happy to be named two men to one woman by the council.”

“It’s reality,” Michael answered. “We’re dealing with it.” He jerked his head at Christian. “He had the day off from the construction site and stopped over this morning to talk to me about some things. We could tell you were feeling a little sad today. That’s when we made plans to come here tonight and see you.”

She set her fork down. “Sad? How could you know that?”

They exchanged another look.

“Michael, Christian, just tell me.”

Michael cleared his throat. “We’re hoping this doesn’t freak you out, but Christian and I have developed some kind of psychic link to you. We can tell where you are and what sort of emotions you’re experiencing. We think it’s a result of the bond between us.”

She remembered that eerie sensation that she’d known they’d been about to ring her doorbell. Still, she had nothing like a psychic link to them. She drew a steadying breath. “And you have that because you’re supes?”

“We think so.”

“Is that…normal?” Not that anything about this situation was normal, really.

Christian and Michael looked at each other. “We’ve never heard of it happening before.”

“And you and Michael don’t have it between yourselves?”

Christian crinkled his face and glanced at Michael. “Hell, no. Look, Michael is a nice-looking guy and all, but I don’t swing that way.”

“Neither do I,” Michael growled.

She held up her hands. “Okay, guys, okay. Chill out, please.” She picked up her fork and began eating again.

“Uh, Michael,” Christian ventured, “she’s taking that news a lot better than we thought she would.”

She glanced up from her plate. “I am still in the room, you know.”

“Why are you taking it so well, Kylie?”

She shrugged. “I’m so past the point of weird it’s not even funny. I have to take this stuff as it comes.” She looked between them. “I’m not sure I like the fact you guys will always know how I’m feeling, though.”

“We think it’s a consequence of the bond being forged between us,” answered Michael. “It allows us to protect you by knowing your location and always know where you stand emotionally so that we can support you.”

She considered him. Michael seemed much more sensitive than Christian, yet every bit as protective of her.

“When did this psychic link thing start to happen for you?” she asked them.

Christian took a sip of his beer and set the bottle back on the table. “For me, it happened after our date.”

“Me too,” answered Michael. “After last night.”

Her eyebrows rose into her hairline.
Riiiight
, after she’d had sex with each of them. Her face flushed as she realized she’d slept with both these men during the last forty-eight hours.

Most women would be really jealous of her.

She took a bracing sip of her water. It was sweet and pure, from a well on her property. “Okay,” she breathed. “It’s all good.”

“It is?” Michael asked. “You seem uneasy.”

She laughed. “Well, you would know, wouldn’t you?”

Christian glanced toward the barn. “How’s the art coming?” Apparently he thought it best to change the subject. Probably wise at this point.

“I’m almost done with the piece I’ve been working on since…Louis.” Her heart made a little dip that she now knew both these men would sense. She cleared her throat and took another drink of water. “I’ll finish it up on a day that’s not so cold and rainy.”
Maybe
. She pushed her food around on her plate. They might be able to feel her emotions, but they shouldn’t be able to tell when she was lying.

Christian changed the subject again, this time to the topic of the construction job his company was working in Sweet Rock. Soon they were on comfortable, mundane topics, talking of the regulars in the Twisted Kiss and some of the characters in the town where they’d all grown up.

“Remember old Mr. Addison?” asked Michael, sitting back in his chair and pushing his plate away.

“That old wolf? Didn’t a vampire get him in the last skirmish?” asked Christian. Every once in a while, the conflict between the vamps and wolves flared into little miniwars, not unlike gang fights.

“He was found trying to kill one of my kiss, a pregnant woman.” Michael nodded. “Yep, a vamp got him.” He paused. “Really,
really
got him.”

Christian snorted. “I’m not surprised. He was a nasty piece of work. Some of the old ones are. They remember so much of their lives before the virus turned them that they’re bitter. Take their hate out on everyone around them instead of just accepting what they can’t change. Are the older vamps like that?”

Michael nodded. “Sure. I think that affects us all.”

“Everyone but humans,” Kylie broke in. “We’re just plain bitter.”

Christian offered her a lazy smile that made her stomach do a slow flip. “You’re not, Kylie.”

“My dad was. Seems like lots of humans are.”

“What was your dad bitter about?”

“My mom’s death.”

The room went silent. Finally Michael said, “Everyone’s got reason to be bitter over a loved one’s death. The virus left a path of carnage that will never be forgotten.”

Kylie raised her glass. “To never forgetting those who have gone before us, be they human, vampire or were.” Her mind was on Louis as she looked between the men. Michael held her gaze, seeming to understand that.

“I’ll drink to that,” said Christian, raising his glass.

They all clinked glasses and drank deeply.

The skies grew darker and the rain began to come down harder. Eventually, they rose and cleared the table.

She returned from the kitchen to collect more dishes and Christian passed her in the entryway, closer than he needed to be. The scent of him, leather and the faintest whiff of his cologne, made her stomach do another slow flip.

Gathering the last of the dishes, she returned to the kitchen to enjoy the sight of two gorgeous, hunky men cleaning up. She helped them by wiping down the counters, only to be lifted bodily by Christian and set into one of her kitchen chairs.

He wagged his finger at her. “Sit. We’re both bachelors and know how to handle ourselves in here. No worries.”

So she relaxed and watched them move. There was something oddly sexy about watching two muscular men doing such domestic tasks. Her eyes were drawn—as always—to the way their arms and chests flexed when they performed even the smallest of movements.

Was it wrong that watching these men clean her kitchen turned her on? Of course, watching these particular men do just about anything turned her on.