Vampire Romance Series - Coffee And Vampires 1-7 (Vampire Romance Bundle) (6 page)

“
Just about,” Nicholas said. “I keep a lot of folks around here, um. . .” he searched for words for a few moments. “Supplied, if you catch my drift. The average Wal-Mart doesn’t stock what we need.”

Of course
, Page reasoned silently.
He takes blood home from the hospital.
It was certainly better than leaving the vampires to hunt for themselves.

The two of them found a few more dishes and even a working coffeepot in the next store, and ultimately even found a slightly battered but still usable wooden bed frame in the back corner. Nicholas and a clerk made short work of dismantling it, the clerk making such light work of detaching the heavy pieces that Page immediately assumed he was a vampire, too. They stacked the pieces neatly and, ignoring Page’s offer to help, Nicholas tossed the loaded canvas bag over one shoulder and picked up the entire stack.

He maneuvered easily back out the door as Page paid, and she hastened to follow him back to the apartment. The stairs provided a momentary difficulty, but Nicholas was able to sidle sideways up them without dropping anything. Wordlessly, he began to re-assemble the bed frame in the middle of her new bedroom.

“
Thank you,” Page said a little awkwardly, watching him. In a few places, she could clearly see nails that had been pulled straight out of their places. Nicholas deftly knocked the wood back together with his bare hands, occasionally steadying a piece with a few dabs of glue from a tube he’d pulled from his pocket.

“
Normally I’d thank someone who did all this for me by treating him to dinner,” Page said as Nicholas finished piecing the bed frame.

Nicholas laughed ruefully. “Of course, I don’t eat. I suppose it’s too late to find you a mattress?”

Page shrugged. “It’s well after six. I’ll look around tomorrow.”

“
Damn,” Nicholas said. “I’d lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

Page shook her head, rejecting his apology. “Can I at least buy you coffee somewhere?”

Nicholas inclined his head to one side, thinking deeply for a few moments. “I know another place around here, and you should know a few other places to go besides Armand’s.”

The other place turned out to be a fifties’ style diner with passably decent coffee and very good burgers. Page was too hungry to feel self-conscious about eating in front of Nicholas but still tried to eat daintily as he drained what must have been a pot and a half of black coffee.

As she finished her meal, Nicholas grew thoughtful. “I can’t imagine that Armand would object to putting you up for one last night.”

Page made a noncommittal noise. “He wouldn’t, but I would, a bit. He’s done so much already. As have you,” she added smoothly. She reached out under the table with one leg, gently brushing Nicholas’s ankle with her foot. “I’m sure we can figure out something else.”

Nicholas blanched. “Page, it’s not that I don’t
want
you, but. . . .” he trailed off uncertainly.

Page raised her eyebrows. “I just meant maybe I could crash on your couch or something.” She smiled wickedly, enjoying Nicholas’s discomposure a little more than she should. Apparently the composed young man could get flustered after all. “And I’d like to see your home. You’ve seen both of mine, after all.”

Nicholas chewed his lower lip uncertainly. “Do you understand what this means? For someone like you to see what my life is like?”

“
Not really,” Page said honestly. “But I’d like to understand.”

Page paid the check, adding a generous tip for the waitress who’d had to jog over to refill Nicholas’s cup so many times. Then, together, she and Nicholas rose and exited the diner just as the sun set.

Nicholas walked quickly, almost dragging Page along by their linked arms. His nervousness back at the diner still hadn’t fully dissipated, as evidenced by the sharp echoing sounds his fast steps made over the brick streets.

Page wondered what he’d been on about at the diner.
Do you understand what this means?
Did that mean she was about to see whatever the vampire equivalent of dirty laundry was?

Or was it something else? Perhaps something related to Nicholas’s inability to enter another’s home uninvited? Was there some kind of prohibition against a vampire inviting a human into his home?

Page wanted to ask and very nearly did, but a glance up at Nicholas’s fixed, distracted look made her reconsider. He’d explain when he was ready. Van had been similarly closed-off when it came to his own strengths and weaknesses in wolf form, she remembered. Maybe it was an intensely private thing.

In any case, she wouldn’t push more than she already had. She couldn’t stand the thought of accidentally chasing Nicholas away.

His home turned out to be a few blocks away from Armand’s café, in the opposite direction from her new place. The unassuming brick building appeared to be another divided house – normal apartment buildings seemed to be a rarity in this part of town.

Nicholas let go of her arm in order to unlock the front door, then led her down the stairs to the basement. Page balked a bit at the steps.

“
I can’t see,” she explained. Nicholas blinked uncomprehendingly for a few moments, then glanced back down the stairs, which to Page’s eyes terminated in gloomy darkness.

“
Of course,” he said faintly, peering around.

He doesn’t know where the switch is
, Page realized, helping him look. There had to be a switch, as there was a single bare bulb just about their heads in the stairwell. Nicholas finally found the switch, flooding the stairs with yellow light.

“
Thank you,” Page said, finally following him.

“
I’m sorry,” Nicholas said, voice still a little too quiet. “I forget that you see differently than I do.”

Page tried to force a laugh, wanting to break Nicholas’s suddenly dark mood. “I’d say being nearsighted is a decent trade for night vision.” That did make him smile briefly, and Page immediately felt better.

Nicholas fumbled with the lock on the door at the bottom of the steps for a minute. “It sticks,” he explained as it finally came open.

Page hadn’t been sure what she was expecting. A stereotypical bachelor pad, complete with piles of dirty underwear and molding pizza boxes? A gloomy but seductive dungeon, all red velvet and grey stone? She hadn’t been expecting this, in any case.

Nicholas’s basement apartment was spacious and tastefully furnished, mostly in light shades of silver and gray with a few startling touches of color. A fish bowl housing a bright green and blue beta sat on the coffee table in front of two gray easy chairs. The place was very clean, but permeated with a sharp odor. Antiseptic, Page realized after stepping inside. The apartment smelled like it had just been cleaned.

“
Sorry about the smell,” Nicholas said. “I brought home a shipment earlier, and I always disinfect once I’ve got everything put away, and again once I’ve delivered.”

Page followed Nicholas into the kitchen, trying not to look as though she was staring but also trying to see everything she could. She wanted to learn everything there was to learn about this strange, beautiful young man.

A twitch had started at the corner of Nicholas’s mouth. He tried to smile to hide it, but there was still a faint hint of desperation in his blue eyes. He spread his arms wide, taking in the kitchen as well as the large main room. “This is it.”

“
You’ve never brought anyone here, have you?”

Nicholas shook his head. “I keep to myself, mostly. There hasn’t been a human in here at least since I started leasing. Years ago.”

Page pulled his face down to her level and kissed him firmly on the mouth. “I know what you are, Nicholas.” The statement, matter-of-fact as it was, seemed to come almost like a blow to Nicholas. He turned his head away. “And I don’t care.”

He looked back at Page, mouth contorted in an expression somewhere between anger and shame. “Do you, though?” With one fluid motion, he threw the door of the fridge open.

Inside was nothing except rows of bags of blood, neatly labeled and stacked. It should have been macabre, but instead Page found something terribly desolate about the sight. She pulled out a bag and handed it to Nicholas.

He seemed startled until Page pointed out that he hadn’t eaten anything that day.

“
You really
don’t
care, do you?” His voice was touched with wonder. Page nodded, meaning it. She watched him closely as he emptied the bag into a large mug, which he popped into the microwave. “Cold blood’s awful.”

“
Have you ever fed, um, directly?” Page asked.

Nicholas shook his head. “Closest I’ve gotten is sucking on a drip hooked to a volunteer’s arm.” He removed the mug from the microwave and stirred the contents briefly before tossing almost all of it back in one go. Page fancied she could smell it, a sharp iron smell that pricked the hairs on the back of her neck.

When he’d finished, Page pulled him into another kiss. This time, he tasted faintly of blood, but also of need and loneliness. He pressed into her urgently, eventually pushing her against the wall. His kisses became steadily more passionate, his tongue dancing with hers and even tracing lines over her neck. She leaned against him in turn, feeling his taut body vibrating against hers.

She didn’t really remember laying down with him, but all the same before long his weight was over her, his kisses leaving trails of heat over her skin. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hips, and she burned, too.

Nicholas pulled away suddenly, his breathing harsh. When he spoke, his voice was ragged.

“
I’m not,” he said haltingly. He tried again. “I want you. But I’m not ready.” His eyes were pleading. “Do you understand?”

Page smiled as gently as she could.
Someone hurt this boy
, she thought, stroking his pale face. His glasses had been knocked askew and she adjusted them.

“
Of course,” she said. “I don’t mind waiting.”

He did, happily, consent to sharing his bed with her that night instead of leaving her to the couch. Page slept soundly beside him, reassured by the strength of his innocent arms and the sound of his breathing.

****

Page resisted the urge to scratch the bandages on her arm. She was at a work, after all, and didn’t exactly need to draw attention to her injury.

She still felt that the bandages were overkill, but Nicholas had insisted. He’d
apologized,
for crying out loud. It wasn’t even his fault. The roller skating had been her idea.

Nicholas usually planned their dates, but Page had decided to turn the tables on him for an afternoon. There was a park a short walk from the coffee house, and the sign for skate rental had piqued her curiosity. She still reveled in the grin that had split Nicholas’s face when she told them what they were going to do. She always loved when he smiled, but when
she
was the one responsible, it seemed that the joy infusing her being could rend her in two.

Then, of course, she’d taken a spill while trying to turn in the unfamiliar skates. She’d waved it off, quickly righting herself, and they completed their two-hour rental. Only then did Nicholas notice she was bleeding.

It was only a scrape, but Nicholas had wanted to disinfect and wrap it thoroughly before Page went to work.

“
No point in teasing the clientele,” he pointed out when Page resisted.

Plus it had meant a few extra minutes with Nicholas alone in his apartment. They’d been so intent on stealing burning kisses that Page had very nearly been late for her shift.

Armand had raised his eyebrows at her flushed face and bandaged arm, but hadn’t passed comment. When she’d cashed in, he flippantly remarked that he’d be spending her shift in the basement, tending to the beans.

“
Think you can handle the regulars?”

Page grinned. “Absolutely.”

She’d been working at the coffee house nearly a month now, always with Armand near at hand. She’d gotten the regulars memorized by the end of the second week, but couldn’t fault Armand for his caution. In a normal café, she might have been insulted that her boss hadn’t trusted her memory sooner, but in a normal café there was no chance that she’d end up accidentally serving blood to the wrong person.

In
this
coffee house, Armand leaving her alone felt more like a mark of trust than a business decision. She still didn’t know much about the soft-spoken man, though Nicholas had mentioned that he was far older than he looked as well as being a werewolf. Page never would have guessed. Armand wasn’t exactly a small man, but he was downright diminutive compared to Donovan’s bulk.

Page managed the first few hours easily, even as the coffee shop began to approach full capacity. She was used to long lines and customers far less patient than the ones who frequented Armand’s shop. She was so absorbed in her work, though, that she didn’t notice the strained hush that had fallen over the crowd until she was nose-to-nose with the cause of it.