Expiez: Redeem Your Blood Lust (10 page)

"Clare, wait. I didn't mean—"

"Like hell you didn't." Her bra dangling off one arm, she had one leg in her skirt and jumped awkwardly as she tried to stuff the other one in. "And so what if that was what I wanted? I think I've earned to right. I think I paid my dues to have a little fling here and there. I fucked you, didn't I?"

"Is that all this was?" Two steps behind, he didn't seem as concerned as she was with clothing. His stomach rippled as he walked, his large cock swinging like a pendulum. "I'm just your little rebound fling."

"What were you expecting? You fingered and then fucked me in a bar!"

"And I'd do it again, even if you were my girlfriend, shit, even my wife. It was fucking hot and you know it. Kinky, dirty, sexy, hot."

"Yeah, well, I don't do possessive." The buttons on her skirt were proving troublesome. She decided to leave them for now and concentrate on stuffing her feet into her shoes.

"Is it somehow wrong to want you to myself?"

"Yes." She spun to face him, one boot half on, the other dangling from her fingertips. "This is what possessive gets you." She gestured toward her lip, the boot swishing in front of her. "That is what possessive gets you." The boot swung dangerously close to his face as she pointed to his bruised eye. "And I don't want any part of it. Ever again." She turned back to the door, fumbling with the door handle, boot still dangling in her hand.

"Clare."

"Piss off." No matter how hard she twisted and pulled, the door refused to budge.

"Clare."

"Seriously. I'm done." Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, heat rising from her stomach, up her chest, and settling in her face.

The walls were closing in. Closer and closer they inched, ready to extinguish what little fire she'd regained since leaving Chris, ready to trap her spirit between plaster walls. Her chest felt tight, squeezing her heart as the walls were threatening to squeeze her. She had to get out of there. She couldn't be trapped in this house for a second longer and yanked desperately on the doorknob.

When Darus reached around her she unconsciously flinched, a sob catching in her throat. He flicked a latch at the top and the door flung open. The minute the night air hit her skin she bolted.

* * * *

"I'm sorry," Darus muttered as Clare fled down the street, hobbling on her half-shod feet. He would have happily given chase, but knew that was the last thing she wanted or needed. Instead he stood in the open doorway and watched her until she disappeared from view, wishing he could see her safely back to Armand's and knowing that was exactly what she didn't want.

"Yowza!"

"Damn!"

Two girls walking past his house looked him up and down appreciatively. That's right. He was buck-naked.

"See something you like?"

"Yes."

"You and your large friend can come party with us."

"Another time perhaps."

"If you change your mind," one said over her shoulder. "Don't bother putting on pants. You won't need them."

Giggles followed them down the street.

He should probably go inside before someone not as appreciative of his cock passed by and he got arrested.

After throwing on a pair of workout pants and grabbing a bottle, he flopped on the couch and clicked on the TV. He didn't care what was on, he just wanted the company. If that meant watching...Bridget Jones's Diary? So be it.

Why the fuck did he have to open his mouth? And why the fuck couldn't he seem to control what came out of it?

Clare didn't need his petty jealousy. Especially not now. What was he thinking? By springing the "mine" bullshit on her, he'd not only ruined the best night of his life, but he'd completely freaked her out. She'd been like a panicked animal trapped in a snare and ready to chew off her own limbs to escape.

And he'd caused it. Just him. No one else. He couldn't remember a time he hated himself more. Maybe after learning Eve was dead...

He took a swig of gin. It was horrid but he immediately took another anyway. He wasn't even a jealous person, that's what was really screwy. Not normally. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he'd come close to resembling any shade of green, not even one more closely associated with a sour stomach. But when Clare mentioned being with other men, he'd turned into Kermit the fucking Frog.

He should have told her he'd wait. He should have told her he could be patient, and anything she needed he supported. Even if he didn't like it, that's what he should have said. It's what she deserved.

Well, it didn't matter now. He'd royally screwed every pooch on the block. Just like he always did.

Chapter Nine

Clare was having a heart attack. She was sure of it. Her sternum had detached from her ribs and was preparing to turn her heart into mush. At least that's what it felt like.

She hobble-ran all the way back to
Luxure
, which wasn't too far, but was far enough it felt like it took an eternity to get there. She didn't pause when she finally reached the courtyard gate, punching the code into the lock and flinging it open like a serial killer was after her. Salvation was just across the bricks, up a couple flights of stairs, and under a plush down comforter.

Unfortunately, Julia and Armand were cozied up on the outdoor couch, flames roaring in the fire pit before them.

She tried to square up her posture and look normal—and failed. Maybe she looked normal for a zombie but that wasn't going to cut it here.

Julia sat forward, removing herself from the cozy looking nook of Armand's arm. "Clare? Are you all right?"

"Fine. Perfect." It was a miserable attempt and the words came out with a waiver.

Julia jumped up and took her arm. "C'mon." She tugged gently. "Let's go make some tea."

"Tea?"

"It's herbal and calming."

"Herbal tea? What has Armand done to you?" But with her shaking body, the calming part sounded awesome.

The feeling of having a heart attack didn't begin to subside until Julia was pouring her a steaming cup. She waited until Clare had taken a drink before asking, "Okay. What happened?"

Given Julia's hatred of Darus, she wasn't sure how detailed she should get. She sure as hell wasn't going to mention him by name. "I hooked up with this guy and it was going fine until..." She shook her head. "I just freaked out. I felt trapped and panicky and…well…you know the rest."

"Until what? What did he do?"

"Nothing really."

Julia's expression told her she wasn't buying it. "You can't leave me in the dark here, Clare. It isn't fair. First Chris and now this? Remember how you felt when I wouldn't tell you what happened when I met Armand? Why would you do that to me?"

Because you're such a judgy judger.

"I know. I'm sorry." She took a deep breath. "He got a little jealous, that's all. But it felt like Chris all over again and I couldn't deal with it. Obviously."

Julia mouth became a hard, thin line. "We're talking about Darus aren't we?"

"Yes."

"Oh my God, Clare! How—
Why
would you hook up with him? After everything he's done. After Chris… Jesus, it's Darus! You coming home in tears is the only way it could ever end."

"For the record, he didn't actually do anything that bad."

"Are you kidding? Have you looked in the mirror?"

"I get how you feel about Darus. I really do. But the truth is, he's not the big bad wolf you think he is."

Julia's sigh was so loud it filled the entire room. "He killed a girl…"

"I know. I get it. It doesn't matter anyway. I'm done with him. I don't do jealous."

"I can't believe you did it in the first place."

For some reason, Julia's open hatred of a man Clare had just spent a few fabulous hours with ticked her off. "I'm not going to defend who I fuck to you. Okay? I'm a big girl, and if I want to suck Satan's dick on the corner of Bourbon and Toulouse that's my business. And I don't need you to lecture me about it later."

She found herself stomping toward the stairs. She was tired of everyone in her business, telling her what to do, trying to control her.

"Clare…"

"Forget it Julia. I have." Just to make a point, she snapped the stairwell door shut just a little too loudly. This was one night she wanted to be left alone.

* * * *

Darus was zoned out on the TV when someone pounded on his front door. The violent knocking was startling enough, the fact that it was his front door made it even more alarming. No one used his front door. No one he knew anyway.

Had he latched the shutters after Clare fled? Shit, he hadn't. At least the deadbolt auto locked. There were plenty of crazy people in the Quarter. He might normally be one of them, but he wasn't hopped up on PCP or bath salts. He couldn't say the same about the stranger outside trying to beat down his door.

Peeling away the curtain, he peered through the crack.

"Fuck." Jerking the deadbolt free, he yanked open the door. "Jesus, calm your shit. What do you want?"

Armand's stance reminded Darus of an agitated gorilla. He'd probably beat his chest at any moment. Shit, maybe he'd been too hasty opening the door. Armand's repressed temper was more dangerous than PCP or bath salts.

"What did you do to Clare?"

He started to snap a retort and then stopped himself. Getting Armand riled up wasn't going to help his case, and the last time he'd responded to Armand's accusation with a smart-ass comment, he wound up with a broken nose and a nice cozy cot in jail. Dropping his chin to his chest, he stepped back and opened the door wide. "Why don't you come in."

Crickets? Were those crickets he heard?

He lifted his head. When his gaze met Armand's, the other man seemed to snap out of a daze and shoved past him. He stomped around the living room and then wheeled on him. "She was here, wasn't she?"

Darus quietly shut the front door. He wasn't surprised Armand could
smell
Clare since her scent was so similar to Julia's. "Of course she was here. Willingly, and happily I might add, until I said something stupid. Which really shouldn't surprise anyone. Especially not you."

Armand closed the distance between them, just as threatening as the silverback gorilla he resembled. "She came home completely undone. What fucked up mind game did you pull?"

At one time, very recently in fact, Armand intimidated the shit out of him. He was bigger, in many ways he was meaner, and his temper and sense of righteousness could be downright dangerous.

Darus may have opened his mouth foolishly, but he hadn't done Clare wrong and wasn't going to let the amazing evening they'd spent together be twisted into something sordid. Well, beyond the natural sordidness of hot, dirty sex.

"You need the back the fuck off," Darus said. "You are in my house, under my invitation, leave the testosterone at the door." Armand cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, I said something stupid but I doubt it's what you think. I didn't mean to upset her. I really didn't. I'm crazy about your sister-in-law, bat-shit crazy. I'm sure as hell not going to apologize for it. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't hate me, either. But I jumped the gun. Even knowing what she's been through, I couldn't seem to help myself and divulged my desire to be with her and only her. When she balked and expressed an interest in maintaining her freedom, I got jealous. It freaked her out. Rightfully so."

The intensity of Armand's scrutiny could be felt across the room. His brow knitted together, he blinked a few times, and then asked, "That's it?"

"Yes. And I don't care what you say, or Julia thinks, if I can find a way to be the man Clare needs, I won't hesitate to pursue her. In fact, whatever it takes. I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do for her."

Armand blinked a few more times. "I..."

"You what?"

"I…don't know what to say."

"There's a first time for everything."

Armand almost smiled. He shook his head and jabbed his finger at Darus, started to say something then stopped, curling his finger back into his fist, which he bounced against his chin.

"Just say it. You won't tell me anything I haven't told myself."

"Angel thinks you have changed, and while I believe she's overly optimistic, I also value her opinion. And what you did for Clare the other day was…what you should have done. I'll say thank you anyway." Armand's jabbing finger came back out. "But if you do anything to hurt her…"

"Trust me. I'll be the first one to kick my ass."

There was that
almost
smile again. "Good." Armand headed for the door. After he pulled it open he turned, started to say something, stopped, and then left without saying anything.

Befuddled, Darus locked the door behind him, clicked off the TV, and then headed for bed, painfully aware Clare's scent was going to be strong as shit there.

Did he just have a
moment
with Armand? Shit, they were one step away from a slap on the back and a beer.

First the cop and now Armand? Hell was officially frozen over. Solid ice, frostbite in seconds, fucking Antarctica frozen.

* * * *

Armand didn't know how to feel about his encounter with Darus. He'd gone to the man's house with every intention of ripping him a new one, but the bastard had been so genuine, so sincere, so…out of character.

And he'd suddenly grown a spine. Without the smug attitude it was something Armand could actually respect.

It left him with a bit of a conundrum. Julia had no idea he'd left to confront Darus and he was half tempted not to tell her. Because if he did he'd also have to tell her he was beginning to think Darus really had changed. Or at least he didn't seem to be the self-absorbed arrogant little prick he used to be.

But given the recent problems his marriage had suffered because he was too much of a coward to confide in his wife, he wasn't going to risk the smallest deception, even if he knew his opinion wouldn't make her happy.

* * * *

Julia stared at her husband. "Didn't we talk about this the other night? You're supposed to be my backup army. Team Clare, remember?"

"I am your backup army. Always. I just wanted to put it out there."

Armand had just finished recounting his earlier powwow with the asshole who'd sent her sister home in tears. It didn't matter that Darus' explanation of the events leading up to Clare's breakdown matched her explanation. Or that Darus hadn't actually done anything truly wrong. This time.

"I'm not saying we give it our blessing. I just think we need to stay out of the way. To quit interfering. After all, it hasn't done us much good so far."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that."

With a gentle grip, Armand took her elbow and lead her to the couch, easing her into a sitting position. "You have to see this from Clare's perspective," he said as he sat beside her. "Neither you nor I like Darus, but Clare seems to. How would you have felt if she'd been adamantly opposed to me?"

"Are you really comparing yourself to Darus?"

"To the outside world am I really that different?"

"Yes." But she knew she was wrong. To her ex, Jeff, or even some of her co-workers—if they knew half the details—Darus and Armand
would
seem the same. Freaks who liked to drink blood.

"I'm not ready," she said, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

He laughed and slid his arm around her shoulders. "That's okay my pouty little temptress. For now I think it's a moot point. But when the issue presents itself again, which I'm sure it will, we need to be prepared."

She thought about her conversation with Clare and knew he was probably right. As much as she hated the idea. "Fine. Bridge. Crossed. Later."

"Good." He nuzzled into her neck. "You remember earlier when we discussed going inside…?"

The Claredarus fiasco was immediately forgotten as his full lips tasted the flesh on her neck. "Hmm?"

"Right." He stood and pulled her with him. "Forget this drama. I'll make you forget it."

When his lips touched hers it
was
forgotten. Darus who?

She immediately felt like Scarlett O'Hara:
"I won't think about that today. I'll think about it tomorrow."

Yes, indeed.