My Immortal (9 page)

“No harm done.” Storm bit into his club sandwich.

Stevie forced a pleasant smile. No harm right now, but if the chick continued to hover, there might be words. She locked her jaw. Jealousy didn’t suit her. She glanced over at Storm. He continued to munch on his sandwich, oblivious to the waitress. If he didn’t care, then she wouldn’t either.

When she took a second look at him, she notices a smattering of mayonnaise dotting the corner of Storm’s mouth. Stevie tamped down the sudden urge to lick it.

As she offered a napkin, he nodded.
“Thanks, babe.”

Lettie drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “You two look so cute together, like you belong together. I…I shouldn’t have barged in like that. My momma raised me with some manners, although sometimes it doesn’t show. Please forgive me.”

Stevie considered Lettie for a moment. The chick acted as if she told the truth, but something didn’t jive. What did this girl care if they got along? Stevie swallowed her pride and her uneasiness. She grinned.

“I admire your honesty. Apology accepted.”

“It’s cool.” Storm squeezed Stevie’s hand.

Lettie blushed. “Thanks.” She glanced at the counter and stood. “I have to go. It was nice to meet you without groping you. If you need anything, let me know.”

Storm cupped Stevie’s chin. The warmth seeped into her skin and pooled between her thighs.
Forget the rest of the world. No one else matters except Storm
. She sighed. They may not last forever, but she’d never trade the experience.

The woodsy scent of his cologne wrapped around her like a lover’s embrace. So did his husky voice. He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re in a forgiving mood. Two days ago, you wanted to claw her eyes out. What’s changed, babe? Or
is my red-hot lovin’
the reason for your mirth?”

Stevie dropped her head to his shoulder.
Time for her own brand of honesty.
The unabridged truth or a partial confession?
Better not hit him with terms like committed relationship and the L word.

“I talked to Gypsy. She asked to reconcile our sisterhood. It’s like she knew something and wanted to make amends. She’s depressed and I’ve never known that girl to be sad a day in her life. I’m half afraid that she’s into something bad and she wanted to clear her soul.”

Like I want to clear mine.

Storm gagged on his sandwich and Stevie pounded him on the back. “What’s wrong with you? It’s no big deal with Gypsy,” she muttered.
“Nothing to get choked up about.”
Her laughter fell flat when his complexion paled.
“Storm?”

“What did you talk about?” He shook his head and coughed. A rogue tear streaked from the corner of his eye, probably from gagging.

“Storm, I can tell you’re on edge. Want to clue me in or am I supposed to read your mind? You haven’t said much since we left the house tonight. What happened after we went to bed?” Stevie wiped the wetness from his cheek and chewed her bottom lip again. Passion and fear swam in the dark depths of his eyes. She’d gauged his reactions and emotions well enough in the past, but now she wasn’t sure. Storm never said anything about keeping the blossoming relationship a secret. Didn’t he want her to tell others of their involvement? Did he want nothing more than a fuck friend? A lead weight formed in the pit of her stomach.

Storm waved the distress away like a pesky fly. “I had one of my occasional bad dreams. I guess you probably heard me, but it’s nothing to worry about.
Just my overactive imagination and too much caffeine before bed.”

Stevie swallowed her terror and decided to make a joke of the situation. “You tell me not to fret until the next disaster strikes.” She giggled. “What will it be this time?
A grenade?
A stabbing?
Or are we gonna duel with pistols at fifteen paces? I love a good sword fight, you know.”

“Ah, the pirate movie is your favourite.” Storm elbowed her ribs and kissed her temple. “I can think of a great way we can duel that involves tongues, kissing and plenty of foreplay. I’m so hard I could pound nails into concrete.”

Stevie walked her hand up his thigh to the telltale bulge in his jeans. She stroked Storm enough to elicit a groan. He twined his fingers with hers.

“That’s a good start, babe.”

Her heart swelled and her stomach quieted. She tamped down the remaining uneasiness and returned to her dinner, albeit one handed. “As for the phone call, Gypsy and I talked about a lot of things, including you. She’s happy for me.”

He narrowed his eyes and dropped the spoon, mid-bite.
“Really?”

“We came to an understanding.” Stevie kissed Storm on the cheek. “But that’s fodder for later, because I see Edie and we have work to do.”

* * * *

When Storm loped out of Trixie’s
,
he wrapped his arm around Stevie and led her to the truck. His heart and cock surged for the woman in his embrace. How fast could he drive home? At the same time, forever feelings clouded his mind—love, marriage, devotion. Oh, yeah, he’d tie the knot with her in a hot minute. Storm glanced at Stevie. He kissed her temple and breathed in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the rosy aura of her arousal. He could bask in her sweet scent for days—at home, in bed.

When his phone beeped, he let go of Stevie and slipped the device from his pocket.

Stevie yanked her door open.
“Text message?”

Storm stared at the screen.
Jamison O’Toole
. He gritted his teeth and punched buttons to retrieve the message, but the body of the text revealed nothing. Blank.

Dammit.

“Are you listening to me?”

Storm blew out a long breath and climbed into the truck. “I’m sorry, babe. What did you say?”

Stevie continued her monologue and Storm tuned her out as he drove home. He felt bad for ignoring her, but the blank text left him bamboozled. He clenched the cell in a tight fist. O’Toole knew how to get under his skin without a word, apparently. Storm wriggled in his seat to stuff the phone into his back pocket and pulled into his garage. He needed to keep his friends close and Stevie even closer.

“Should I call Bobby Miller to set up surveillance at the Starlight?” Stevie folded her arms and stared at him. “Or should I run naked down

Storm pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, honey. I wasn’t paying any attention again, but no, I won’t call Bobby. I want Todd Falco to help with any electronic spy work. He’s better with the mini cameras. And no, I don’t want you to run naked anywhere because I’d have to chase your sweet ass until you scream my name in ecstasy.”

He couldn’t let a jerk like O’Toole take over his life, not when Storm had the warm, wonderful and completely sexy Stevie in his home. He needed to screw his head on tight and fast!

“Okay. You win. Are you going to shower with me?” Stevie snorted, but the sound didn’t mask her slight laugh.

“Get the water nice and steamy. I’ll meet you there, but first, I have to make a call.”

Stevie shrugged and walked into the house. Storm followed hot on her heels to watch her ass sway. Oh yeah, she had a beautiful butt. He licked his lips. Once he told O’Toole to fuck off, Storm could sample her sweetness for the rest of the night and next day.

Storm dialled his nemesis and waited for the call to connect. “O’Toole.”

“So you’re back in the dating game? You do have excellent taste.” Jamison cackled. “I might have to imbibe.”

Storm growled. “I don’t have time for nonsense. I’m no longer your minion. In fact, I never was. I don’t buy into your bullshit.”

“Ah, but you are my child and you do buy into my teachings.
All the creatures of the night, whether good or evil, are part of my grand scheme.” O’Toole’s smarmy tone
rankled
Storm’s nerves and sent a sharp pain through his head.

“Enough. I quit the debauchery in order to clean up after your ruthless acts. Those people didn’t want to lead the life of the vampire. They weren’t finished living their mortal lives, but you chose to take that away, O’Toole.
And for what?
Your damned bloodlust.”

Jamison’s arrogant mood changed. His voice dropped an octave. “You’re still trying to be noble. Well, I can’t wait to meet your new…friend. I’ve never tasted a cop before. She smelled sweet and unfettered.”

“She’s not up for sharing and I won’t turn her.” Storm suppressed the urge to scream or pitch the phone across the room. He refused to allow O’Toole the upper hand.

Storm peeked down the hall to check on Stevie. Steam billowed from the open bathroom door. The slapping of water on tile and her smooth alto voice met his ears as she sang. Was it an old Bon Jovi tune?
Or Def Leppard?

Didn’t matter.
She sounded beautiful.

The rosy scent of her body wash filtered over his senses and he grinned. He liked her just the way she was—not a vampire.

O’Toole growled and brought Storm back to the call.

“Then heed my warning, Richardson.” Jamison’s rumble vibrated Storm’s chest. He ground his teeth together to bite back a remark he’d regret. Fuck.

“Once she finds out your true nature, she’ll bolt. You can’t protect her when she’s not with you.” When Jamison paused, a shiver slipped up Storm’s spine. “Trust me, I’ll find her. Hell, I did already, but the next time, I’ll make her beg me to fuck her.” The soft puff of Jamison’s breath echoed on the other end of the line. “She’ll plead with me to turn her so she can stay in my bed. You’ll see. I’m always right.”

“Then it was you,” Storm snarled, unable to hold back the torrent of anger and frustration. “Keep your fucking hands off of her.”

“Guard your possessions better next
time,
because once she samples O’Toole, she won’t want any other tool.” Jamison laughed and disconnected the call.

Storm dropped his phone and clenched his stomach. Wave upon wave of nausea crashed over him as he knelt to retrieve the phone. If Stevie did leave him and O’Toole made good on his threats, then she’d be in more danger than any man could handle. Storm couldn’t expose her to O’Toole’s sadistic treatments. He couldn’t lose the woman he loved.

Storm shoved the phone into one of his desk drawers and strode to the bathroom. Flashes of his nightmare floated around in his brain.
Stevie screaming.
Stevie crying.
Stevie in a pool of grey blood.
Stevie following O’Toole like a puppet.
Storm pounded his fist against the hallway wall and fought back a feral cry.

Only vampires bled out in grey blood—dead blood.

Tell her tonight.

Yes, he’d do just that.

Tonight.

Storm went back into the master bedroom. The water stopped and he strained to hear any of her movements.

Stevie sashayed out of the room, dressed in one of her garish racing T-shirts, with a laundry basket tucked under her arm. Her bare feet peeked from the cuffs of her faded blue jeans. She looked adorable when she wanted to be domestic. He grinned despite his bleak mood. “What are you doing, honey?”

“What does it look like? I’m folding your clothes.” Stevie dropped the basket on the bed and dumped the contents. “I know what’s coming, so don’t call me honey.”

“It’s one-thirty in the morning. No one does laundry at this time of night.” He frowned and scrubbed a hand over his hair. “What are you talking about, Stevie? What’s coming?” Three hundred years of misdeeds played in his head like an awful highlight reel. Stevie’s anger smelled like
Tabasco
sauce and her fear skittered up his spine as if it were his own. Their connection was already too strong. He couldn’t lose the woman who completed him—even if she refused to clue him into her sour mood.

She placed a crisp button-down shirt on the pile and reached for a pair of his boxer shorts, naturally the threadbare ones he needed to replace.

“This is the point where you start getting mysterious phone calls and leaving me alone. I know the drill. This is goodbye time.”

The wind rushed from his lungs. “Goodbye time? We just got started. I can’t let you go.” O’Toole’s words zapped him like one thousand watts of electricity.
She’ll plead for me to turn her.

“Storm, I’m usually the one calling so you can get out of entanglements with women. I know how you work. This is my turn to ride off into the proverbial sunset so the next woman can ride in. I didn’t think it would come to this, but it has, so I’m out.” Stevie squared her shoulders and grabbed a sock from the basket.

Leave him?
Next woman?
No more. No others, ever. His heart slammed against his ribs. Angry tears pricked his eyes. “No.”

“I can feel something bad about to happen. I’m not usually a clingy woman, but our attachment at the hip the past few days is getting to be too much for you.” She swallowed and walked a stack of shirts to his dresser. “I’ll finish this up and see you tomorrow at the office, unless I need to shop for a new job.”

Storm stepped behind her, but she squirmed away from his grasp.