Except this time, he grabbed my hand, twirled me around, and then whistled low. “Damn, girl. Lookin’ hot.”
And I was. Low-cut red top, black leather pants. Gleaming three-inch red pumps. Red lips, sleek jet-black hair.
I grinned flirtingly at him and said, “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
And he didn’t. Also in black leather pants, he had skipped the damn flannel shirt and wore a loose-fitting army-green Henley, multiple rough-leather bracelets, and some brown leather kicks that looked like they’d been more than worn in.
Sexy. As. Hell.
I let him hug me and then inhaled his delicious scent. Some kind of musky cologne combined with his deliciously clean blood. I wanted to both bite him and fuck him.
Like I said… gooey.
“How are you tonight?” he asked, brushing some hair from my face.
I couldn’t stop the smile that took over my face and looked up at him, grateful he was still taller than me despite the three-inch feet-killers I wore. “I’m great now.”
He chuckled and nodded. “Happy to hear it. Now my night is complete.” He glanced over at my drink. “What’cha drinkin’? Can I get you another?”
I shook my head slightly, my hair tickling my bare shoulders. “Nah, I’m good. It was just club soda, anyway.”
“I see,” he replied. “Wanna go get something to eat?”
No.
“Sure, sounds great.”
He grinned, grabbed my hand, and led me out of Bash. Once we were out in the cool fall Colorado air, he looked down at me and asked, “What are you in the mood for?”
Blood.
“I’m easy, you choose.”
He stared deep into my eyes, not saying anything, and honestly, making me both gooey and nervous. “Okay, an all-night diner it is. I know one down on Thirty-First Street.”
“Can’t wait,” I replied, not letting go of his hand and letting him lead me to wherever he wanted. Without a care in the world.
What was wrong with me?
6
Judson
The diner was actually one of those metal Air-Stream trailers. It was supposed to be eclectic or something. I just thought it was cool and had good pancakes.
I had tried to get her on the back of my bike, but she’d refused, saying she’d just follow me. I again questioned her need for an SUV as I’d chanced a glance behind me on our way to the diner, but vowed I’d ask her about it later. She’d said she didn’t have kids, but she seemed to be a mostly closed book, honestly. But I was damned and determined to crack open her pages and find out what made Daniela, Daniela,
Look at me, getting all feely over a vampire. The hell is wrong with me?
Chastising myself for having some kind of attraction to the gorgeous brunette, I told myself to keep it business as usual. Get just close enough where she trusts me to tell me she’s a vamp and get info about Audrey’s killer, then dump her like yesterday’s trash. These creatures shouldn’t exist. Keep telling yourself that.
After we were seated in the diner, it was no surprise she ordered a bloody mary and nothing else. Claiming she wasn’t hungry. I was willing to bet on our next “date”—if there was one—she’d claim some kind of food allergy. My ass had done extensive research on these things and those two excuses reigned supreme to justify their lack of public food consumption. Although I hadn’t figured out why they never ate. Sure, they needed blood, but weren’t they once human? I’d admit I didn’t know much about their physical anatomy. Maybe blood was all they needed. I tried to hide the shudder that engulfed my body at the thought.
“You gotta try these pancakes. They’re the best in the whole frickin’ city.” I held out a forkful of dripping, syrupy amazingness to her across the table.
She wrinkled her nose and recoiled. “Nah. I’m good with my bloody mary.”
One I noticed she hadn’t eaten the olive or celery stick of.
“Oh, come on, just a bite. Who doesn’t love pancakes?” I baited.
She glanced at the fork, then into my eyes. “Uh, I’m watching my carbs.”
I bit back a smile then shrugged. “Okay, how about some sausage?” I dredged it in syrup and held it out to her.
She shook her head. “No, I’m good. You enjoy that. Honestly, Judson, I’m just not hungry.”
Liar. I could see the way she was looking at me—like cartoon characters look at pigs and cows like they’re big slabs of meat.
I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Your loss, but you really should come