Aurora Sky Vampire Hunter - By Nikki Jefford Page 0,57

name is Josslyn."

"Kind of girly."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't like you."

"Don't take it personally," Fane said to me. "Joss hates all humans."

"Hey, as long as he's not killing them."

Joss closed the book nestled in his lap. "Me kill?" He looked at Fane, eyes narrowed. "Perhaps your new companion ought to hear about the mass murder that took place in my village. It wasn't vampires doing the slaughtering."

Fane rolled his eyes. "As charming as that story is, let's save it for another night."

"Is that blood in your mug?" I asked, nodding toward the porcelain cup.

"Certainly not!"

"It's Earl Grey," Fane said.

"You're drinking tea?" I raised both brows.

Joss glared at me. "I'd rather consume strychnine than human blood."

I turned to Fane. "How long can you go without feeding?"

"Months, but I don't know what vampire would want to. The cravings are intense - like no other addiction. As far as health goes, a regular diet of blood gives us strength and quicker healing capabilities."

"What about super powers?"

Joss snorted.

"Aside from heightened senses, fast healing, and the whole living forever thing; we're more or less human." Fane shrugged. "Joss would know the answer to your question about feeding better. I believe he's set the record for the longest fast."

A light bulb went off in my head. "Oh, like a tick."

"Excuse me?" Joss said.

"Ticks can live for seven years without feeding."

"Francesco," Joss said testily. "She's comparing me to an insect."

Fane grinned. "Yes, I heard."

Joss stood up. "I'll be in my room." He took his book and tea with him and slammed a door somewhere down the hall.

Fane spread his arm toward the couch. "Have a seat."

I settled onto the couch and looked at Fane. "How old are you?"

"Me? Gosh." He scratched his head. "I was born in 1755. I guess that would make me...two hundred and fifty-eight."

"Well, you don't look a day above twenty," I teased. "Where are you from originally?"

"Italy."

"But you have no accent."

"Not anymore. I didn't stick around long. Made my way to England, which is where I learned English."

"You don't sound British, either. Not like Joss. Your name makes a lot more sense now. Francesco."

Fane screwed up his face. "Now you know why I go by Fane."

"And I thought you were being ironic."

I shouldn't be at his house with him. I shouldn't be with him at all, but I couldn't imagine being anywhere else. I was gathering intel. That's all. Going deep undercover. What better way to learn everything I could about vampires than from the creature itself?

I faltered. Looking at Fane now, I couldn't think of him as a creature. My insides still thrummed at his nearness. Even now, I wanted to straddle him on the couch and kiss him back to life. It was wrong to want a vampire. So very wrong.

I switched back to teasing. "You're so obvious, you know? What's with the long leather jacket? Kind of cliche, don't you think?"

"This?" Fane opened his arms and looked down. "What's wrong with following fashion trends? Frankly, I like it a lot better than the bulky cuffs and full-skirted frock coats of the eighties."

"Eighties?"

"Oh, right, pardon, 1780s. And don't get me started on top hats." Fane took his jacket off and draped it over an armchair before settling on the couch beside me. "These are great times - for instance, you've got jeans and sunglasses and I can't tell you how much I love cotton - so soft and unconstricting."

I turned to him. "What about the smoking?"

"Are you kidding? It's the easiest way to meet people."

"So you're not addicted to nicotine?"

Fane let out a deep, throaty laugh. "It's the habit I enjoy." He leaned in closer. "There's only one thing I'm addicted to." His eyes shone as he perused the skin above my scarf. He leaned in closer and inhaled me, his lips hovering above my skin.

"Don't," I whispered.

His eyes were hazy. I stood up. "I should get going."

His eyes slowly cleared. He got up and put his jacket on.

Silence followed us on the drive home. My emotions were too jumbled to talk, my thoughts tangled up till nothing coherent could be pulled out of them.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Fane asked as he turned onto Century Heights.

"I'm tired." Not that I expected to get any sleep that night.

He threw the Pontiac into park in my driveway and looked at me. "So are we good?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I need time to think about all of this."

Fane tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. "How much time?"

"What do