Bane's Choice (Vampire Motorcycle Club #1) - Alyssa Day Page 0,73

of a nap.”

No.

Not if it means seeing you die again.

He schooled his features to impassivity before he turned to face her. “Yes, I’d be willing to try, given certain conditions, just not now. Today is—will be—extremely busy. And yes, you can take my blood. Let’s get out of here, first.”

“Sounds good,” she said, and he waited until she left the room to move away from Hunter, just in case. That’s when he saw the basket on the floor behind the door, filled with bags of blood.

Meara, probably. It was the kind of thing she’d think of. He should have thought of it, though. He was slipping. Missing details.

Yet another example of how this human woman is taking up far too much space in my mind.

And yet that was exactly where he wanted her to stay.

In his mind—and in his bed.

He closed and locked the door and leaned against it, a wave of weariness sweeping through him. He hadn’t slept much, except in fits and starts, since the battle with the warlocks.

“You look like shit, man,” Luke said. “You’d better get some sleep before the big meeting tonight, especially if we can find Constantin and get to kick some warlock ass.”

“What,” Ryan said, in a dangerously quiet voice, “exactly, does that mean?”

When Bane shot him a dirty look, Luke put his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, man. Hard to know which secrets you’ve told the human and which you haven’t.” With that, he strode out of the room, whistling.

I need to remember to kick his ass the next time we spar.

Ryan carefully transferred the bags containing her equipment to one hand and pointed at him with the other. “Okay, let’s have it. Which secrets are you keeping from the human this time? I know there must be hundreds, given what you are and how long we’ve known each other, but maybe we can start with the kicking some warlock ass.”

The frantic sound of toenails scrabbling up the steps interrupted whatever he’d been about to say, and Bram Stoker came joyously bounding into the room and hunched his body in the telltale sign of a dog who was getting ready to leap. And he was aimed at Ryan, who wasn’t much taller than the dog.

“STOP!” Bane commanded, and the Irish Wolfhound slid to a stop, all but falling over his own oversize feet. Then he sat there, his tongue hanging out of his mouth in a goofy smile, waiting for someone to tell him what a good boy he was or rub his belly, staring up at Ryan with a look of utter devotion.

Not a bad life, really.

“Saved by the dog?” Ryan shook her head at Bane. “Not for long. Shall I set up in your study? Come on, Bram Stoker. I have some ear scratches with your name on them.”

And then, not waiting for Bane to answer, she marched out of the room, head held high, the dog devotedly trailing after her, and Bane caught himself smiling.

Again.

“Right there with you, buddy,” he told the dog and followed the parade down the hall to his rooms.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ryan set up her equipment, including the astonishingly expensive portable spectrophotometer she’d borrowed, on the long reading table in Bane’s library. She talked to the enormous dog as she worked, explaining the principles of what she planned to do, knowing that Bane was listening, but not ready to speak directly to him until he told her about this dangerous meeting he was apparently planning.

She wanted to know about the warlocks, too.

“I suspect that there is some form of iron-deficiency anemia at work here, Bram Stoker. Yes, you’re a good boy.” She petted his head, which came up almost to her shoulder. “What are you? A wolfhound crossed with a wooly mammoth?”

Bane threw himself down on the enormous leather couch and watched them, still saying nothing.

“So, I’ll do a CBC—that’s complete blood count test—to see if you have lower than normal red blood cell counts, hemoglobin or hematocrit levels, or mean corpuscular volume. If that’s the case, then I might be on track.” She glanced over at Bane, who looked far too sexy for her peace of mind, sprawled out on that couch, all long, lean muscles and gorgeousness. “Ready for me to draw your blood?”

He tilted his head and crooked his finger at her. “I’m ready to kiss you again, so I can discover if it’s really possible that the taste of your lips can set my entire body on fire, like I seem to