Impulse (16 page)

“The
smokers
outside,” he continued in his thick Irish accent. “When I came back inside, you were gone. Thought you went to the toilet, so I waited by the door. Let me tell you that what goes on in the ladies room is no longer a fantasy. I thought you’d have puffy little pillows on sofa chairs where you lounged and buttered up your breasts with scented oils. My fantasies are ruined by the pungent smell of vomit and tramps spraying perfume on their fannies.”

“Can you get to the point?”

His legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. “I did another scan of the bar. I have a way of tuning out sounds one at a time as a process of elimination. It’s a gift.”

“Bravo.” I crawled to the sink and ran a washcloth under the chilly water.

“Somewhere in the sea of voices I heard you call my name. You get a C-plus for effort in pronunciation, but I’m afraid your speech was off because that fecking cocktail you were with spiked your drink.”

“What? The last thing I remember is talking to Marco. I think.
Shit
.” My eyes flashed up. “I left my drink at the bar. Are you suggesting that I drank out of the same glass? I never do that! Whenever I leave my drink I always—” I snapped my mouth shut, remembering how upset I was. Not just about Marco, but my mom. Yeah, I probably was stupid enough to sit back down and polish it off.

“He got you all the way to the parking lot.”

“Who?” My hands trembled a little bit.

“The unassuming rapist who hangs out at the bar looking for easy prey. From the state of his face, I could see that you didn’t need much help. Poor bastard.” Christian smirked.

“Then why are you wearing his blood?”

He watched me with dull eyes and lifted a shoulder. “I never turn down a free drink.”

Scratch that off the list of things I wanted to bring up with Justus about our trip.

“Why didn’t Marco knock you out with his light when you were roughing him up?”

“Justus shelters you too much. Doesn’t work on Vampires, lass. Think of me like a big sponge.” A crooked grin slanted up. “And the ladies like to loofah.”

“If you’re stronger than us and our power has no effect on you, why should we bother with the sunglasses?”

He kicked off his shoes and a white toe poked out from his black sock. “Never underestimate anyone’s abilities. I’ve met a Mage or two in my time who could take down a Vampire with their gifts. Plus, you lot scurry around like cockroaches while we run at a human’s pace. A smart Mage will stay out of reach.”

“Makes sense,” I grumbled, rubbing my eyes. I worked out a kink in my leg and leaned against the opposite wall. “How do you know Justus?”

“We’ve been knowing each other for a long time and stay in touch; you never know when you’ll need help.”

“Moving dead bodies?”

“Pardon?”

“You know—the saying about how friends help you move, but real friends help you move dead bodies.”

“Well,” he said with a rich laugh, “I
am
the dead body.”

It didn’t seem possible. “Are you really dead?”

He glanced at his shirt again. “Just an inside joke; we’re very much alive. Sunlight won’t kill us, but you know that now. Stakes hurt like a bugger, but they work the same way a stunner does with a Mage. Years ago, they used to stake and bury Vampires as a form of punishment. If not for Gravewalkers, half of them would still be there. Gravewalkers have a knack for finding us,” he said, lifting his hand slightly. “You already know we can pull truth, erase memory, and win any arm-wrestling competition. Ah, blood.”

The mere mention of the word made me nauseous and I looked at the spatters on my shoe.

“A youngling craves blood and their desire is insatiable, but it gets easier as you age. Blood doesn’t sustain us; the power within the blood is what we crave. It’s comparable to a Mage juicing energy from another. I could go the rest of my life without having any.”

“What keeps your bodies going?”

“Rejuvenation, the fountain of youth, magic—same as you. Blood helps us heal faster should we need it, but the real magic is the information that flows in your veins. A knowledge cocktail. I enjoy the taste of food, but like many Vampires, I prefer not to eat. There’s a certain perk to not using the toilet all the time.”

An insistent vibration interrupted us and I crawled to the sink and pulled the phone out of my purse.

Logan: If you don’t answer this message, I’m coming to get you.

“Shit.” I collapsed on my back as my stomach gurgled.

“Trouble with the boyfriend?”

My fingers quickly typed out a reply.

Silver: I’m here.

Logan: Where is here?

Silver: How are you? How’s Finn?

Logan: Don’t change the subject. Where are you?

Silver: I’ll see you soon, I promise.

Logan: I’m coming over.

Silver: You gave me your word. Why don’t you trust me?

Logan: You’re avoiding my calls. Let’s talk.

Silver: It’s almost 11 and I’m tired. I’ll call you tomorrow.

Logan: So you ARE in TX. Who’s with you?

I froze—I’d forgotten we were in another time zone. “Dammit!” I groaned, throwing my hand out and shutting my eyes. The phone skidded out of reach. “What time is our flight?”

“You have three hours. Be sure to gargle.”

When I lifted my head, Christian was sending a text message. “Give me that!”

I sprang to my knees and snatched it away.
“What the hell did you say?”

“Only that I had you on your back. I made sure to sign my name.”

“You idiot!”

I punched his shoulder and he smirked. “In-service massage?”

Silver: It’s not what you think, Logan. I’ll call you later. Miss u.

“It’s your funeral. Logan is a Chitah.”

Christian’s eyes widened. “You’re serious? You? And a
Chitah
?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Shite, why didn’t you tell me you were dating a fecking lunatic? Those bastards have a thing about hunting you for life.
Jaysus wept
.”

“Oh, grow a spine.” I angrily shoved the phone in my bag.

Christian pushed himself up and stretched his arms. “I’ll leave you alone to decontaminate. I’ve spent my entire evening in a bathroom—more hours than in my whole human life. If you don’t mind, I’ve seen my fair share of vomit. I’ll be retiring in my quarters with a ‘do not disturb’ sign.”

Before the door opened, he showed me his profile. “How’s that working out for you two in the bedroom?”

Branded by his words, I hurled his shoe at the door. “Nitey nite for you.”

“Have fun electrocuting your boyfriend with your next handjob.” He breezed out of the room like a summer wind. That perturbed me.

I crawled to the opening and leaned out. “Oh, and Christian?”

He paused.

“Touching is overrated. As
old
as you are and you can’t get more creative than vanilla sex?”

He blinked in surprise as I gently closed the door.

Logan never returned my calls. I wondered if he entered my dreams that night to spy on me. Some Chitahs could dreamwalk with certain people. He had that ability with me, but I made him promise to stay out. No one should be allowed inside your head just because they have the key.

Chapter 11

Adam gripped the bars of his black motorcycle as it edged across the parking lot
. It was a no-frills bike—unpolished and classic, like Adam.

It was the first time he’d been out since the bombing. Cheri wanted to meet with friends in a human bar on the seedy side of Cognito. It hadn’t even been a week since he was injured, but he couldn’t say no when he knew how cooped up she was in that house. Adam was especially sensitive to that need because of the fact that Nero had kept her caged for so long.

“Ugh!” Cheri protested, stumbling to her feet once he parked the bike. “I can’t stand that thing! I just don’t understand why it’s so impossible for you to get a regular car.” She clicked her tongue at the run in her pantyhose. Her polished fingernails threaded through her blond hair. “Do I look okay?”

“Like a dream,” he said softly.

She looked more than okay—Cheri was stunning. From the hollow of her cheeks that made her lips look like heaven to kiss to the slope of her hips and the way they swung when she walked in heels. She’d changed since they met, but she was enamored with him from the start and he’d fallen for her harder than he should have.

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me wear the helmet,” Cheri huffed.

It might have been different if his wounds were still fresh and raw; a man needed time to adjust to something like that. Novis couldn’t heal him with his light, and the treatments the Relic tried were excruciating. Within days, the reflection staring back at him looked like a man who had been scarred for a lifetime. Breed were worse than humans when it came to how they viewed those with scars and deformities. This was a life-altering setback. Who would want to be treated by a Healer who was scarred? Even something as simple as giving a woman a sexy smile was an act he could no longer do without revolting her. He was damn lucky to have Cheri because most Mage women were very selective about the men they dated.

Being a Healer was the reason he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That left a bitter taste in his mouth and he cursed his gift.

That didn’t go over well with his Creator. Novis was a man with great expectations for his progeny. He provided Adam with new clothes, access to whatever education and physical training he desired. It was important for Adam to contribute to the race and prove his value.

Adam shut off the engine and Cheri placed her hands on her hips. “We’re just going to have a quick drink and say hello. I’m not really in the mood to stay out all night or anything. Did you decide if you’re coming in?”

Two girls sashayed by and whistled at Adam. They admired the way he looked in his torn jeans on the bike. He got that look a lot.

“Adam.” Cheri snapped her fingers. “I’m going.” She planted a kiss on his shield and left a smudge of lipstick. “I don’t think you’d like my friends so this works out. Thanks for giving me space and time alone to have fun. Give me an hour and then we’ll go home. Sound okay?”

He nodded.

Cheri sighed and adjusted the delicate gold strap of her purse on her shoulder.

He watched the door for thirty minutes. Because she had no Creator, Adam took it upon himself to keep an eye on her in public. She craved her own space and was slowly becoming her own woman again—a change he loved seeing.

Adam was still a runner and made it his morning routine to stay in shape while taking advice from Novis on how to cultivate his gifts. Adam in turn worked with Cheri and taught her how to protect her light from another Mage. He wasn’t concerned about letting her go into the bar alone because humans were weak and she could take care of herself, but he decided to save her the embarrassment of the stares. He didn’t give a shit what everyone else thought, but if it made her uncomfortable, then that’s all that mattered.

Adam stretched out his legs, thinking about that mess with Nero. It never left his thoughts because of what they’d discovered when they saved Finn during the raid. The chain locked around the Shifter’s neck was made of a metal Adam knew all too well.

Knox broke the chain with some tools he kept in his Jeep. It was confiscated by Justus, but a small piece was left behind on the floor and Adam had played with it during the drive home. Something about the sheen was familiar and when he ran his tongue over the gritty surface, he knew exactly what it was.

In the Special Forces, they’d gone on a number of dangerous assignments. The weapons were standard issue—except for the silver-tipped stakes and darts. Each job they were armed with specific weapons. Knox had a peculiar habit of rolling bullets around in his mouth—something he’d started as a nervous habit. The first time they were issued new bullets, Knox spit it out and said, “Taste this shit!”

The flavor was impossible to describe—sweet, hot, and so tart that it made your tongue curl. Regardless, they did the trick taking down their targets. One shot was all it ever took. It never killed them—no, that came later and they finally let one of the guys on the team have the honors.

He’d had a few drinks with Knox after revealing he was a Mage and the two of them concluded that every assignment targeted Breed. Adam suggested humans manufactured the metal. Someone was probably selling that shit on the black market to fill his pockets.