Blood Leverage (Bloodstone Chronicles Book 1) (4 page)

BOOK: Blood Leverage (Bloodstone Chronicles Book 1)
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“Yeah, that’s right.”

His dimple flashed. “Then here’s the plan. First thing in the morning—a few hours from now,” he amended, “you’ll tell Barb you’re returning to 7891 to take a tutoring job until classes start again. That’ll give us four or five days.”

It was a clever idea. Barb’s love of gossip would ensure my absence raised no red flags, and everyone would assume I wanted a few days away from everything—which of course, I did.

“You’re a genius. We can leave first thing in the morning.” I leaned over and planted a quick, smacking kiss on Nicky’s mouth out of excitement.

The kiss he gave me in return lasted a great deal longer.

Nicky had kissed me before, but always with less privacy and a lot more clothes, which made a difference. He wriggled until he was sitting up—sitting up
naked
, my subconscious gleefully reminded me—and the blankets fell again, baring him to the waist.

I was pressed too tightly against him to admire the view but my hands had no such restrictions and I realized the phrase ‘seeing is believing’ was bullshit. I had no trouble believing what my hands were saying. In fact, their message was so inspiring, I felt wide awake. All over awake.

Nicky’s hands were on their own mission and my body cheered him on, though between my nightgown and the bedding no one was having much success. I’d never kissed a man while sitting on his lap and it was a new area of discovery altogether. Despite the blankets, my hands made faster progress and he froze when I reached ground zero. 

Though his mouth rested centimeters below my ear, I barely heard him. “Rory, you don’t want—you can’t.
We
can’t. I mean, if nothing else—our blood.” Gently, he pushed me back to face him. Though I couldn’t prevent him from moving my shoulders, I didn’t let him move my hand. That hand was staying
exactly
where it was. 

Somewhere in my mind I realized this might not be the wisest decision I’d ever made. Though Nicky was undoubtedly gorgeous, I’d never taken his flirting seriously. On the other hand, my romantic opportunities were practically non-existent. And the last twenty-four hours had been so completely lousy…

“Aren’t there… There are…” My brain wouldn’t cooperate.

Apparently Nicky’s wouldn’t either. I still hadn’t moved my hand and his expression was sort of breathless and stupid.

With all my reading I knew there were areas of compromise when it came to virginity, and my body was anxious to reach a compromise with Dominic tonight. After all, no one else could know why I
needed
to compromise—and the same stood true for him.

Looking at it that way, my decision seemed almost sensible. After all, surely two friends could take a little comfort in one another? It was hard to imagine a more well-earned distraction than the one presently in my bed.

“Aren’t there loopholes in the matter we’re discussing?” I finally asked, keeping my expression innocent. Nicky’s eyebrows flew to his hairline and I fought off a triumphant smirk, keeping my hand and gaze steady as I waited.

“Well, uh… Yes, of course there are things. I mean, without going. . . Er, without doing. Um, everything.” I’d never seen Dominic flustered and enjoyed it immensely.

I nipped at his earlobe and whispered, “Make an offer and we’ll negotiate. Hopefully something… satisfactory to everyone?” I tensed my grip lightly on the word ‘satisfactory’ and took enormous pleasure in feeling him tense beneath me.

“A-a-and, and this is what you want?” His expression mixed shock and hope in a way that made my lips curve in a wholly female smile. I’d reduced him to stammering.

“This is what I want
tonight
.” I nipped his lower lip as if in punctuation. “But whatever happens, we stay friends, okay? You have to promise or this stops right now.”

For once, Nicky’s smile verged on shy. “Consider it promised.”

Though Nicky was as pink as his tan permitted, I felt little embarrassment and our ‘negotiations’ concluded in record time. He even made a few suggestions that surprised me. (Clearly I needed to read more books.) And in the end, I was the one who tugged my nightgown over my head and tossed it aside before reaching over to turn off the lights.

             

CHAPTER
FIVE

 

 

 

DESPITE a nearly sleepless night, I awoke
with energy
to spare.

Inches away, Nicky’s lips were parted as he lay sleeping. He didn’t snore, but his breathing had a decidedly more masculine quality than anything I’d ever heard from mother or Amy.

I felt my face heat as the memories of last night flooded back and I stifled a nervous giggle as I slid out of bed as silently as possible. My every move triggered unwelcome noise—the hangers in my armoire jangling, the clanking of Nicky’s belt buckle as I brushed against it on my chair—but Nicky remained inert.

Viewing a sleeping man was a new experience and I took a moment to appreciate it. It startled me to see how his beard had grown since last night and I wondered if maybe I’d overestimated Nicky’s vanity regarding his stubble. He didn’t move and I noted with annoyance that his lashes were long and several shades darker than the hair on his head. Ugh. As a redhead, I endured frequent eyelash envy, my own being rather unimpressive.

After I’d looked my fill, I slipped downstairs and prepared to put our plan into action. As discussed, I went to the bakery to start the gossip and was pleased to find Diane there too. Not only was she one of the few people with a legitimate reason to seek me out, she’d be the first person told if anyone grew concerned about my absence.

Even better, Barb had a fresh batch of sticky buns and I bought half a dozen—my sausage debacle only a dim memory. I was happily biting in when I heard my name.

“Rory! Hey, Rory, wait up!” Amy darted over, her hair falling around her shoulders and her face alight with happiness. “Oh wow, sticky buns?” She turned the full impact of her eyes on me and I surrendered a bun. I know when I’m outgunned.

Despite the loss of a bun, I was happy to see her. I was dying to talk about last night, but that conversation required privacy. Instead I asked quietly, “Did you make your list?”

Swallowing her first nibble of bun, she bobbed her head. “Yes, I have it right here.” She was so proud it took her a minute to realize I wanted it.

“Geez, it would help if I gave it to you, huh?” She fished through her pockets, eventually retrieving a scrap of paper filled with miniscule writing.

I took it with interest and read aloud. “A golf umbrella, a plastic measuring tape, a turkey roaster?” I looked up curiously. “What’s a turkey roaster and why do you want one? Never mind,” I interrupted my question. “A turkey roaster, more zippers, and… What’s this last word?” An inch of paper only goes so far. Even Amy had to squint.

“New scissors!”

I tucked the paper in my pocket. “Okay, now tell me what a turkey roaster is.”

She held her hands apart. “It’s an oval shaped pot with handles and a lid. It’s used to roast turkeys in an oven.”

“You’re cooking?” Amy’s idea of cuisine was frying an egg instead of boiling it.

She laughed and shook her head, giving a theatrical shudder. “Please. I want it to dye yarn. It’s big enough to fit several skeins, small enough to carry and able to withstand the high temperatures needed to set the colors.” 

Though I wanted to tell Amy about everything that had happened last night, I needed to get home. Nicky had insisted we leave early. As a compromise, I took her by the arm and began towing her back with me. Confused but amiable, she fell into step. I lowered my voice conspiratorially. “Dominic is taking me scavenging. I’ll be hunting for your stuff but you can’t tell—”


HOLY SHIT!
” Her mouth fell open and I pinched the underside of her arm as half the courtyard stared. Normally Amy would’ve caught on, but she was too excited. Instead she squealed, drawing even more attention, and I congratulated myself for not sharing my news about Nicky. The entire square would’ve heard in seconds.

Gripping her shoulders, I stared into her eyes the best I could. It was a challenge. They’d all but rolled back with excitement.

“Was it a bee?” I demanded. “A wasp? Did it get your arm?”

Still reeling, she made an effort. “Um… Sure?” She wasn’t remotely convincing, but it was better than nothing.

“C’mon, we’ll go back to my place for some baking soda and cider vinegar.” She let herself be tugged like a pup on a leash, the curious crowd parting to let us through.             

Nicky was in my kitchen, having helped himself to my leftover sausage sandwiches—better him than me. He looked at me cautiously before greeting Amy, no doubt wondering how much I’d blabbed.

It pleased me to see he’d already showered. Regardless of last night’s activities, he looked as innocuous as he ever did, with no trace of last night’s escapades evident. He’d even shaved, which I found inexplicably disappointing.

Forcing myself to focus, I set two sticky buns on his napkin. “It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I told her the plan. I figured someone should know where I am, though she
did
get a little rambunctious.” I shot Amy an exasperated look.

She looked at us with a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that, but it’s exciting! I promise I won’t say a word. I’ll even wear one of your plastic bandages so no one doubts the bee thing.” She scampered to the bathroom.

Nicky cocked his head. “Bee thing?”

I laughed. “Just run with it. Is everything ready to
go?”

He washed down a bite before answering. “I think so. I have your bag and my things are locked in the truck.” He wrapped his remaining bun in a napkin and held it up for approval. “If I can borrow this, we’ll head out now.”

I shook my head. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take the tunnels and meet you at 7891’s bakery.”

“The tunnels? It’s broad daylight,” Nicky objected.

My cheeks burned as I shrugged. “If we leave together, people might realize we spent the night together. No matter what they speculate about us I’d rather not give anyone ammunition for the petition.”

Nicky nodded. “I can’t imagine it would make anyone vote against you, but people would talk. We’ll do it your way.” He gave me a barely-there kiss that tasted of syrup before hefting our boxes and leaving.

Seconds later, Amy came out smiling, admiring her colorful bandage. “Nicky left already? I’d walk you out, but I need to get back to mom. Can’t wait to hear everything! I love you and
be careful
! And have FUN!”

She blew me a kiss and scampered away before I could share anything else.

Sulking, I locked up and walked to Robert’s, gritting my teeth in anticipation. Fortunately, a small sign on his door read that he’d stepped out, sparing me the confrontation. Pleased at my small stroke of luck—and let’s face it, I was due—I slipped down into the tunnels.

After several minutes of walking, I regretted declining the ride. Though Nicky’s efforts had temporarily made me forget last night’s skinned knees, they were twinging with every step by the time I reached the 7891 exit.

The lengthy walk to the bakery only made it worse, and when I arrived Nicky was nowhere to be seen. I was getting irritated when he emerged from inside the bakery, holding a grease-smudged sack. Not wanting to attract attention, I followed as he crossed the courtyard.

He’d parked his truck around the corner and I assessed it warily. It looked bigger than I remembered. Oblivious to my nerves, Nicky dangled his keys between his thumb and forefinger. “In the spirit of adventure, would you care to drive?”

I gaped in disbelief. “You know I’ve never driven a motor vehicle, right?”

He nodded and said dryly, “In case you didn’t know,
everyone
who learns to drive starts out never having driven before.” He offered the keys again, twitching them so they jingled. “Want to give it a try?”

I wanted to snatch them away before Nicky came to his senses, but my ‘responsible adult’ voice suggested an alternative. “Maybe I should watch you first.”

He returned the keys to his pocket. “Okay, we’ll switch later.” The decision made, he boosted me into the passenger seat before climbing into his own. I watched him use the rear tire as a step and vowed to master the maneuver before our return.

As soon as Nicky shut his door, he reached over and strapped me in before fastening his own buckle, explaining, “Seatbelt. In case something hits the car.”

I tugged at the strap, which dug into my shoulder. “Is that likely?”

“The odds are low,” he answered distractedly as he started the truck, “but deer are
everywhere
.”

I pondered the odds before turning my attention back to the truck. Experimentally, I pressed a button and beamed when the window glass lowered itself with a pleasing ‘
purrrrrrrrip
’. Then I slid a glance at Nicky, like a child caught sneaking sweets. “Sorry, I should have asked first.”

“No worries. Touch anything you like.”

Once I’d exhausted the buttons I began opening the compartments tucked throughout the truck. Most were empty but the one in front of my lap held a thick notebook.

“Be careful with that, okay?” Nicky looked concerned.

“What is it?” His protectiveness had roused my curiosity.

“It’s my delivery manifest,” he said. “Everything for the summer, it’s all in there.”

“Anything fun coming up?” I flipped through the book. There were a lot of entries.

“More like stressful,” he muttered. “Dad gambled half our savings on a handful of big jobs, so I’m surprised he left me to do them alone. I don’t know why he was so keen on attending that conference.”

Having kept my suspicions of parental romance quiet—a decision I appreciated even more after last night—I bit my tongue.

“There must be something you’re looking forward to.”

“Actually, after all the scheduled deliveries are completed, I’ve convinced my dad to let me scope out some new territory further east of here. I’m ready to stake my claim on some projects of my own. Assuming I don’t screw everything up and bankrupt us before then,” he concluded.

He sounded rather grim and I decided to change the subject, but before I could ask about driving he offered me the bakery bag. “A surprise for our road trip.”   

“Road trip?” I laughed as I accepted the bag. A perfect phrase for a perfect day. I’d left the window down and took a moment to appreciate the breeze. My hair would look disastrous, but I felt too good to care.

“Um, Rory?”

“Hmm?” I looked over to see Nicky watching me expectantly.

“When I gave you the bag I assumed you’d
open
it.”

I looked down at the forgotten bag and unfolded its edges. And blinked.

Chocolate cupcakes.

There were six cupcakes, each with chocolate icing and morsels of chocolate on top. “Where on earth did you get these?” Cocoa beans grew nowhere on the continent.

“I special ordered them yesterday.” He allowed himself a tiny smirk. “I knew you’d accept my invitation.”

“But the chocolate,” I persisted. “Where’d you get the chocolate?”

Nicky made a face. “Only you would rather discuss its origin than eat it.”

I stuck my tongue out, unoffended. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll eat all of it. Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Don’t you freaking dare! Give me that bag back, right now!”

I grinned and held a cupcake out of reach. “You’re not getting one until you answer. An answer for a cupcake is a fair trade.”

“You should be able to figure this out without me. You first had chocolate to celebrate the publication of your mom’s book. Where’d
she
get it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know it was a gift from—” My voice cut off.

Nicky nudged me on. “A gift from where, Rory?”

My whispered reply was almost inaudible. “From Immortal Media.”

An arched eyebrow from Nicky confirmed my suspicions.

“Holy crap, you’re in contact with Immortal Media too?” I nearly spluttered in disbelief. I’d mailed several articles to Immortal Media for publication and hadn’t received a
word
in response. Not even a rejection.

He looked at me like I was mentally deficient. “No, Rory, I didn’t get chocolate from a vampiric media conglomerate. We got it from a customer.”

I nearly fumbled a cupcake onto the floor of the truck and returned it to the bag. “Dominic, are you saying you’ve
met
a vampire? A real, live vampire?”

Not that they’re technically alive, but still.

His smug smile wavered. “Not exactly. Dad deals with them, but they know who I am. After all, I’ll run the business when he retires.”

“Why would they deal with humans at all? When mom published
Conversions
, Immortal Media used human intermediaries.” Except for Nickleby’s letters, of course.

Nicky shook his head. “Not all vampires live in cities. You should know that better than anyone.”

It took me a moment to grasp the implication. “You mean my blood…” I took a moment. “Gigi doesn’t ship it to New York or Toronto. There’s someone who—Holy shit! It’s for someone within
driving distance
?”

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