A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1) (11 page)

“So, you think I’m handsome?” Mace
inquired in a teasing tone.

“Inh
umanly,” she qualified sharply.

“An even better compliment.”

“Hardly,” Cora replied, beating back a traitorous grin. Who’d have thought she would ever banter with a vampire? After a short stretch of silence, she asked, “How can the blood sample determine if your theory is correct?”

“Humans have three main types of blood cells: red, white, and platelets. Vampires have an extra cell type not found in human blood, referred to as dark cells. These are what speed healing and muscle growth, among other things. If your blood sample reveals the presence of even a single dark cell, it would give weight to the theory.”

“If it doesn’t?”

“Wouldn’t change my mind on the matter, but we wouldn’t have any evidence.”

“What if I have some dark cells? What does that mean for me?”

“You won’t turn, if that’s what you’re asking. There are other steps necessary for the transformation than just the introduction of dark cells.” Mace hesitated. “Or so I’m told.”

Cora contemplated that for a moment. “Are you sure? What if the dark cells multiply?” She wasn’t even sure if that was possible, but it was a distressing thought nonetheless.

“When dark cells enter a human’s bloodstream, the white cells rightly see foreign matter and target them for destruction.” 

“So then, they should be gone pretty quickly.”

“Right.
Which is why we had your blood drawn as quickly as we could. Trent should be getting the results back any day now.”

“Oh, that reminds me. He called earlier.” She felt Mace tense next to her.

“You answered?”

“’Course.”

“Did you tell him where we are?”

“I…no.
Why?” She didn’t like the change in his tone.

He relaxed a bit. “I just don’t want anyone knowing our location for the time being.”

She could read between the lines. Someone had sent those roughnecks on the mountain, someone who had to have known exactly where she and Mace would be. “You think your partner—”

“No,” Mace interrupted. “More likely the human police have a mole. Where’s my phone?”

“In the bathroom.” She’d still been clutching it during her emotional breakdown. “You want me to get it for you?”

“No. I’ll contact Trent in the morning.”

They both became quiet and the darkness suddenly felt heavy on her chest. Her eyes drooped, and she yawned. “So, what happens now?”

“We’ll leave here in the morning and head to a safe house as planned. Just not the one Trent and the human police intended for us to go. From there, I’ll decide the best course of action.”

“And what might that be?”

She sensed him smile. “I don’t know yet. Sleep now. We have a long trip ahead of us.”

Cora yawned and stretched in the passenger seat of the black sedan.

“Do you need to stop?” Mace grumbled, not taking his eyes from the road. They hadn’t said much to each other after their awkward morning. She wasn’t sure when, but at some point during the night Mace had settled her in the cradle of his body. She recalled the heat permeating from his skin, cocooning her as light from the rising sun coaxed her awake. The feel of his powerful build. The heavy appendage pressed against her ass…

Apparently human males weren’t the only ones plagued by morning wood.

In her dreary, half-sleepy state, she had turned her head to verify it was actually Mace’s arm folded so tightly around her torso.

And as she did so, she’d come face to face with a pair of razor-sharp fangs. 

In retrospect, the spike of adrenalin and instant alarm was fueled purely by surprise, not an actual threat. Mace had still been sleeping. But it wasn’t often she found herself up close and personal with a vamp’s chompers and her reaction was instinctual.

She’d cried out and scrambled wildly under the covers, jarring Mace awake in the process.

Unaware what caused her hysteria, he bolted up and surveyed the room.

Freed from his grasp, Cora’s body, along with the covers tangled in her limbs, gracelessly poured over the side of the bed.

She’d landed with a grunt.

When she’d peeked over the edge of the mattress, Mace had regarded her stiffly, his frown prominent.

Her cheeks had burned even after he’d gone into the bathroom for a shower. After a few minutes, he’d emerged with dampened hair and a towel around his waist, forcing her to flush once more. He was all hard planes and packed muscle.

Then her eyes had dipped to his
chest wound.

Although it was probably normal for him, it astounded her that
it was almost fully healed with only the remnants of angry redness that could be mistaken as a rash. She would have commented on it, but his phone was pressed to his ear and he was responding to someone on the other end in short, curt grunts. To her, he’d jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom as if to say, “You’d better get a move on it.”

She hadn’t dawdled, knowing she might not get the chance to bathe in a while.

While she’d showered, Cortez, or maybe Rita, had dropped off an outfit for her, though she hadn’t seen either of them before the club was in their rearview mirror. She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful for the clothing that was equally as tawdry as her outfit from yesterday. Her top was a grey knit wrap blouse with a plunging neckline. Her black heels were too high for her comfort. Throughout the drive, she nervously tugged at the hem of the dark skirt that barely covered her upper thighs. More than once, Mace had growled for her to stop, as if her fidgeting irritated him.

He seemed to be extra grumpy today.

“There’s a town ahead,” he continued. “Are you getting hungry yet?”

“Surprisingly no,” she replied. All that had occurred in the last few days had affected her appetite negatively. The thought of food made her stomach flip over on itself. She’d only managed to eat half the apple from last night and her dessert had ended up on Cortez’s fine carpet. There had been no offer of breakfast this morning, and now, after having been in the car for over six hours, she should be starving.

Apparently Mace thought so too and declared they’d be stopping anyway. Moments later, they pulled off the highway.

The throwback bar and grill was mirrored by the broken-down neighborhood surrounding it. The initial revolt against the vampires, and subsequent uprisings, had taken a toll on the smaller towns, devastating most and crippling others. Now
, with a few exceptions, only the largest cities had access to electricity and treated water, which was why they were almost all overpopulated.

With the smaller towns cut off from such conveniences, each had devolved into its own country of sorts, governed independently from the rest of the world.

She’d recalled traveling through small towns with her parents when she was young. Almost too young to remember the roguish locals…almost. Vaguely, a memory of her father fighting off a gang of men, defending his wife and two children, entered her mind. Fuzzy as the memory was, it was one of the most frightening nights of Cora’s young life, B.E. Before Edgar. She’d clung to her mother, fearing her father’s imminent death. But then, just as the group had taken her father to the ground, surrounding and kicking him, her mother had done…something. At the time, Cora knew it had been extraordinary, but now she couldn’t recall what it had been. In any case, the men had stopped hurting her father.

“Why are you so pensive?” Mace snapped.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m just worried about stopping in such a small town.”

Mace
humphed. “You think I can’t protect you from a few uneducated humans?” He pulled into the lot, jerked the car into park, and shut off the engine.

There was that confounding attitude again. “That’s not what I mean. But now that you mention it, we haven’t had a whole lot of luck keeping out of trouble, and this place screams trouble.”

The barred windows were bordered by peeling, bubbling brown paint that had probably been a vibrant red at one point. The parking lot was littered with debris: glass, torn paper, dirt clods, and such, with only two other cars taking up spots—a beater truck and a white Honda that wasn’t in much better shape.

“
I
scream trouble,” Mace growled and exited the car.

In his borrowed leather trench coat, he did look menacing. He started for the building without bothering to wait for her. After a cautionary glance around, Cora followed.

The inside was dimly lit, and her eyes took a moment to adjust. The place was more packed than she’d initially assumed by the lack of cars in the parking lot. A U-shaped bar took up the center of the room and was crowded by patrons. Several tattered booths lined the perimeter, most filled as well. Mace headed for a free booth in one of the darkest corners. She trailed behind him, feeling rather like a well-trained puppy.

He claimed the seat that faced the room, his eyes scanning his surroundings. She perched opposite him. When he finished assessing the room, he met her gaze. If the coldness wafting from him was tangible, the blood in her veins would have frozen solid.

She pursed her lips and quirked a brow in question.

He smiled then, but it was more cruel than pleasant. “Only two days and you’ve no problem staring me down? I wonder if the whole thing was an act from the start.”

That statement planted her back against the seat. “Excuse me?” She resisted the urge to cast her eyes down, suddenly and irrationally feeling exposed, but in what manner, she couldn’t decide. What she did know was that Mace was looking more dangerous now than he ever had before.

Since the night of the crash, she had begun to think of him as no longer a menacing vampire, but a protector. A living nightmare turned benign. He was supposed to be safe, her savior, even if he was rough around the edges, but right now he seemed anything but.

Clearly, between last night and now, his attitude toward her had taken a swift dip into perilous waters. It was entirely possible—no, probable—she was no more safe with him than she had been with Edgar.

That thought chased away any lingering security that had gathered in her mind, and her eyes dropped solemnly to the table.

Mace snorted. She could still feel his gaze boring into her.

Before either of them broke the silence, a pretty blond waitress approached and set two large waters on the table, no ice. “You all ready to order?” She tapped her pen on a pad of paper in her hand.

Cora was even less hungry now than before, but she really should try to eat something. “What is your soup of the day?”

The waitress hooted out a sardonic laugh and proceeded in a nasally, mocking tone. “Well, we have a superb Italian Sausage Tortellini, and the chef is just raving about the Butternut Squash.” She laughed
again, shaking her head and adding to herself, “Soup of the day.”

Cora stabbed the girl with a scathing look. “I suppose you don’t offer salads either?”

“Aw, dang.” The waitress snapped her finger in false dejection. “Just ran out.”

Cora scowled. “Then what do you have?”

“Meat and beans,” she replied, as if it should have been obvious.

“Then why didn’t you ask us if we wanted meat and beans?”

The waitress looked aghast at Cora’s raised tone, as if no one ever dared to challenge her.

Cora waved her on. “Go on, give it a try.”

The waitress jostled her bottom teeth irritably. “You’re clearly not from around here, sweetling, so let me tell you how it is. The men shoot the animals, the cook cooks the animals, and you eat the animals. If you want a salad, you can go pluck some leaves from the forest, and I’ll get you a plate.”

Infuriatingly, Mason laughed at that, drawing the woman’s attention.

She smiled at him and purred, “You look like a meat and potatoes kind of guy to me.”

“Look again,” he replied darkly
, flashing fang.

Her delicate brow turned up.

“But I promise I’ll like anything you have to offer.”

Her smile widened at the innuendo.
“That so?”

When Mace returned her grin, the blood in Cora’s veins heated to an uncomfortable level.

“Well, I’ll just have to test that theory out.” the waitress continued sweetly. “I’ll bring you the chef’s special.” She turned and walked away then. By the sway of her hips, she was expecting Mason to watch her go. Cora gritted her teeth when she realized he was.

“Should I get a mop for all that drool?” she spat.

He turned an amused gaze on her. “Is that jealousy I hear in your tone? Couldn’t be. Not after the way you woke me up this morning.”

“Is that why you’re in such a
pissy mood? Because I awoke to your razor-sharp canines in my face, and naturally I freaked?”

“I’m not in a
pissy mood. Women get pissy. I’m just pissed.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Testosterone.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And no, your silly behavior this morning is not why I’m angry with you.”

“Oh, please do enlighten me.”

Mace cocked his head. “Such a brave little witch you’re turning out to be.”

“So now you’re insulting me? What did I do to deserve this treatment? Might I remind you that I saved your ass
yesterday.”

He narrowed his gaze and leaned back as if she’d just presented him with a puzzle. “I spoke with Trent this morning. Your blood test results came back.” There was an accusation in his tone.

Icy fingers of dread ran down her spine. Mace noted her trepidation with another tilt of his head.

“And?” she prompted. Was there even more vamp blood in her system than they’d expected?

“You must’ve known what we’d find.”

She shook her head. “What do you mean? Is there something wrong with my blood?”

“No. Everything’s fine. For a witch.”

Cora stared at him blankly for a moment. “You’re using that word in place of bitch, right?”

Instead of answering, he said, “There’s no way you don’t know what you are. It’s impossible. It would be like a vampire not knowing he was a vampire. There are clear cut signs. Undeniable signs.”

Against her will, her lips curled upwards. Then a laugh squeezed from her lungs. “You think I’m a witch? Like a real witch? As in hocus pocus and all that?” She laughed again. “And you call
ed
me
silly?”

“This is no joke,
Coraline.”

“Of course it is. It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Then do you find this funny? Your blood is laced with dark cells.”

At his revelation, Cora’s smile faltered, and her skin paled to a disturbing shade of green.

And yet he couldn’t believe she was ignorant of her lineage. No. She’d willfully kept this from him, and for some reason, was lying about it now. Maybe because she was damn near a pure blooded witch from one of the most ancient lines on record.