Fresh Blood (5 page)

“I walked from the bus stop on Dwight Avenue.
I was concerned someone might trace my plates if they saw my car in
the lot.”

Now Max turned and met her gaze. For a brief
moment she thought she saw admiration in his eyes.

“Who are you hiding from?”

“I ... have a conservative life.” Perhaps
that was an overstatement. ‘Life’ was too strong a word to describe
what Erica had. By day, a stoic, proper insurance claims adjuster,
filling out complicated forms in triplicate. By night, more often
than not, Elena’s keeper. There was nothing in between. She hadn’t
had time for friends in months, didn’t have the energy to make up
lies about Elena anymore. She kept her coworkers and neighbors at a
polite distance to isolate herself--though she wasn’t quite sure
from what.

“By vampire standards, so do I.” Max smirked
again.

“You seemed pretty comfortable in there.” She
regretted that her statement sounded like an accusation. He didn’t
seem to notice, though.

“I swing by now and then to keep an eye on
things, but that’s not where I feed. It’s just part of my job.”

“They all have jobs, too, don’t they? Like
regular ... like humans?”

He nodded. “Most of them. The nights can be
long and boring. We’ve all got to do something. Come on. Let me
take you home.”

Erica straightened and followed Max toward
his car. Though her stomach had calmed, a slight tremor played at
the back of her jaw, and the giddiness hadn’t dissipated
completely. When she slid into the cool leather passenger seat, she
sank back and let the kinks in her spine work themselves out.

“Why?” she asked as he started the engine and
backed out of the parking space. She noticed other cars queuing up
to leave the club as well.

“Why what?” He glanced at her, and then
deliberately looked away as he guided the car through the white
painted posts that stood guard at the lot entrance.

“Why everything? Why are they like that? What
was in that drink? Why do humans allow themselves ... ?”

“It’s a complex symbiotic relationship.” Max
smirked as he spoke. The line was obviously well rehearsed. “It
took centuries for us to come to terms with our true need for
humans. Most of us don’t think of you as enemies anymore and
fortunately for us, there are more and more of you who don’t think
of us as enemies, either. But on the other side of the coin, years
ago no one became a vampire by choice. Turning someone was the
closest thing to procreation we could do. And there was the idea
that if vampires outnumbered humans, the world might be a safer
place for us.”

Erica closed her eyes, torn between wanting
to absorb what Max told her and understand it, and wanting to drown
it all out and forget everything. She had so many more questions
but she was afraid of the answers.

“Where do you live?” His question diverted
her thoughts from the dark places where she didn’t want to
dwell.

“On Rochester Drive in the apartments at
101.” She answered him easily and regretted it. She should have
given him Elena’s address and caught a cab from there, but if she
had to walk another block in her heels, she’d have collapsed. Her
legs ached, and she indulged in the fantasy of asking Max to
massage them for her when they reached her apartment.

Replaying flashes of the evening in her mind,
Erica found herself alternately aroused and disgusted, enticed and
ashamed. Whatever spell she’d been under in the bar, she could not
have been completely in control.

“The drink ...”

“There was nothing in it. Honest.”

She still didn’t believe him. Out of the
corner of her eye she regarded his handsome profile. A muscle at
the back of his jaw twitched. He’s hiding something, she
decided.

“Right here,” she said a while later when her
building came into view. “You can pull up over there.”

Max stopped the car and turned to her. The
look he gave her made her heart pump a little faster.

“Erica,” he said her name slowly, his voice
low and smooth. “I don’t want to put you through any more of this.
Let me look for your sister. I’ll keep you informed of what I
find.”

Disappointment surged through her, and she
glanced away. Why had she been hoping he was about to kiss her?

He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled
out his business card. A phone and fax number were embossed below
his name in small black letters.

“Call me with any information you have, and
like I said, if you can give me something of your sister’s that I
can trace ...”

Erica bit her lower lip and nodded. “I will.
I’ll go to her apartment tomorrow and get something. But, I’m not
giving up, Mr. Hart. I’m going to keep looking for her myself. I
can’t just sit around and wait.”

“Erica ...”

“No. The things I saw tonight.” The things I
did. “I can’t bear to think of Elena involved in that.”

“It still may be her choice.”

“No. I don’t believe that. I’m not saying
there aren’t people who ...” Like it? Find it arousing? She refused
to think about how aroused she was at the moment. “It’s just not
Elena.” Who was she trying to fool? She wrenched the door handle
and stomped one foot onto the curb.

When he grabbed her wrist, she pulled back
halfheartedly, but he didn’t relinquish his grasp. His gaze was
hard, like it had been inside Club Dead when he admonished her,
when he commanded her. It killed her that her body responded to the
authority in his voice.

“If you insist on looking for her yourself,
then I’ll take you. You have to understand that there are places
you just can’t go alone. In order to keep their secrets, there are
vampires that will hurt you. You need someone to protect you.”

“I thought we’d been through this already,
Mr. Hart. If you want to do that, that’s fine. I’ll go along with
your investigation--only as long as I’m part of it. If Elena thinks
that you’re a cop or that I’ve hired you to find her, she’ll make
herself harder to reach. She’ll withdraw and I won’t ever be able
to help her.”

“How far are you willing to go to find
her?”

Erica met his gaze and held it as she
disengaged her wrist from his grasp. “All the way.”

“I don’t think you know what that means.”

“Then show me.”

Max’s growing hunger surged at Erica’s
invitation. What he wouldn’t give to truly show her everything he
sensed she wanted to know about his world. Right now, with her eyes
flashing, and the scent of defiance mixing with the aroma of her
own arousal, she was everything he wanted--and nothing he dared
take.

Her conflicting reactions at the club had
told him much more than she ever would have. Truly drawing her into
his world, maybe even into his life, would destroy everything about
her that made her so irresistible.

He wrenched his gaze away from her and
tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“I’ll do what I can.” He choked out the
words. “Tomorrow I’ll put out some feelers and let some of my
contacts know that I’m looking for someone. I’ll see if I can get
reservations at some of the other more private clubs, and I’ll pick
you up.” What was he saying? Pick her up? Take her with him? He
should have pushed her out of the car and driven away as fast as he
could. The playacting tonight was just that. It wasn’t real. Her
arousal--his own--were just illusions. Her fear and her naiveté
made her seem, just for a moment, like she was giving herself over
to something she wanted but was afraid to admit to herself. He
would have given anything to see that happen, to watch her discover
that part of herself she so obviously denied. He was kidding
himself. When she’d obeyed his command to lick a drop of her drink
from his fingertip, he’d caught the most alluring glimpse of
something wanton in her eyes.

Then it was gone.

The challenge she’d just issued to him was no
more than a schoolyard taunt. She thought she could handle it, but
she had no idea.

“I’ll come a little early,” he continued,
pushing his doubts to the side. “And we’ll go over a few more
rules. You did well tonight, but tomorrow we’ll be in places where
vampires don’t take new feeders. You’re going to have to act like
you’re used to this world.”

She nodded. Something tightened in his groin
at the thought that she might be eager to learn more.

“Wear something ... different.” He resisted
the urge to touch the fabric of her blouse. “Elegant. Preferably
black. No jewelry, no perfume.”

“Lower heels?” The hint of amusement in her
tone disarmed him. If he hadn’t been fighting so hard to hold it
together, he’d have taken her right then.

“Yes. And ... I’ll have to bite you again.
Just a little.” Would a little be enough? Could he stop again at
the smallest taste? Her flavor lingered on his tongue still, and
the memory threatened to drive him mad. He’d have to make sure he
fed well tonight.

“As long as it won’t hurt.”

“It won’t hurt,” he assured her as she
climbed out of the car. At least it won’t hurt you.

* * * *

Erica left her clothes in a pile on the
bathroom floor and stepped into the steaming spray of the shower.
Hot needles of water dug into her flesh from the massaging
showerhead, and the glorious sensation made her sigh.

The tension that had built in her muscles
since the moment she’d laid eyes on Maxwell Hart finally loosened
and drained away. In its place a weakness washed over her that
frightened her.

She leaned against the cool tiles and gulped
the humid air. What had she gotten herself into?

* * * *

Her scent lingered in the car. Max opened the
windows and picked up speed to keep the cool air in his face. He
had half an hour until daybreak, and he had to feed soon or he’d
end up back at Erica’s apartment. He couldn’t go back to After
Dark. At this hour, Kyra was his only option.

A quick detour to the highway brought him to
her development. At 4:45 he knocked on her door.

He sighed heavily and sidled through the door
when she appeared. “I need you.” He hated taking advantage of her
like this, but her seductive smile told him she didn’t mind.

Once inside he leaned against the door and
took in her familiar scent. The place looked the same as always:
clothes and Chinese takeout containers littered every available
surface. Under the layer of flotsam, her new furniture looked worn
and outdated. A red jar candle flickered on the mantle where a
picture lay face down. Max detected the aroma of cinnamon
overlaying the lingering essence of moo goo gai pan.

With a sigh, he followed her to the bedroom
of the bungalow, his eyes on the faint remnants of the mark he’d
left on her neck a week ago. She shrugged off her robe as she
walked, leaving the flowered silk on the floor next to the bed.

“Where’ve you been tonight, Max? You look so
tired.” He normally found the sensual purr of her voice soothing,
but tonight he wished for silence. Kyra wasn’t the submissive type,
and if he ordered her to be quiet while he took what he wanted,
she’d kick him out. He used to like her independent streak.

“I’m working a new case.” He bit the words
out as he folded her slim body into his arms. He used to like the
feel of her against him too, but tonight she felt fleshless. She
made comforting sounds as he sank his incisors into her skin. The
warmth of her eased the cold hollow inside him somewhat, and as he
drank, he waited for the bloodlust to take him. He needed that
release too, but oddly, aside from lessening his hunger, he felt
nothing. The hard-on he’d been battling since the moment he’d
tasted Erica began to subside as he took his fill.

When he finished, Kyra threw herself back on
the bed, ready for what usually came next. She held her arms out to
him and smiled. “Come on ... let Kyra make it all better.”

He glanced at the bedroom window where a
black shade hung ready to block out the morning light. He could
stay. She’d welcome a captive vampire for the day, but if he left
right now he might make it back to his place before the clouds
parted and the damning daylight took over.

“I wish I had the time.” He hated lying. Kyra
had always been good to him. Always available when he wanted her.
She’d even given up smoking after he told her how the nicotine left
a bad aftertaste that most vamps didn’t care for. He fished a fifty
out of his wallet and handed it to her.

She pouted. “Oh come on, Max! You’re going to
leave me like this? What’s up with you?”

Apparently nothing, at the moment, he thought
wryly. That had never happened before. He often fantasized about
other women when he was with Kyra but the fantasies had always
helped make it hotter, harder. Tonight, Kyra’s willing body seemed
like a pale shadow. The taste of her blood wasn’t quite as sweet as
he remembered. He wanted Erica. Maybe if he pictured her, conjured
her scent with his mind he could ...

“I’m tired. I’ve got to go. Next time, babe.
I’ll make it up to you.”

Erica woke just before seven after barely an
hour of sleep.

Frustrated and jittery, she finally flung
herself from the sweat-damp sheets and hurried into the kitchen to
brew some tea. She sipped slowly, staring out her kitchen window at
the building’s rear parking lot. She thought of Max, his dark gaze
and the way her body responded to his voice and his touch. She’d
never imagined giving up control to someone else, but the thought
of him subtly guiding her movements, or openly commanding her, made
her knees weak. How could she find it arousing to submit to him?
Why did she crave more?

She finished her tea and shook the unsettling
thoughts from her mind. It was a fluke, she decided. Everyone
talked about getting caught up in the moment--people did things all
the time that they couldn’t explain to themselves by the light of
day. She’d get over it, and move on. As soon as she found
Elena.