The Twisted Kiss: Doomsyear, Book 1 (5 page)

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.

Kylie straightened a piece of thin metal to the exact angle she wanted it and rocked back on her heels, admiring her work. The piece she was working on had taken her three years to complete. She’d started it right after—

She purposely turned her mind in another direction.

Standing, she surveyed the enormous piece of art that took up a good chunk of her barn. In places the metal lay smooth and flat; in others it crinkled and warped. In still others the artwork flowed and swooped like an angel’s wings, or twisted and was scorched by her blowtorch. Every surface of the piece was different and made the viewer feel a certain way. All of it was a testament to a life, a love…and a death of sorts.

It was almost done.

Outside the open barn doors she was surprised to see that twilight was falling. She’d been working far longer than she’d meant to. Putting her tools away and closing up the barn, she hurried into the house to take a quick shower and hurry over to the bar. It wasn’t her night to run things, but she usually stopped in anyway just to make sure everything was going smoothly.

She tossed her work clothes to the floor of her bathroom and stepped into the blessedly warm water. It was chilly outside—something else she hadn’t really noticed while she’d been working. Lathering soap over her body, she remembered Christian’s hands on her and shuddered. Her body still tingled from his touch.

Her gaze drifted to the barn and the artwork contained therein. A little thread of guilt wormed its way through her, taking the pleasurable memories away. Being with Christian had been the first time she’d been with a man since Louis…and worse, she’d loved it.

Turning her face away from the window, she dunked her head under the water as if to wash away the taint of that thought. It was all done and gone, years past. No sense in dwelling.

Of course, she could tell herself that all day long and never be able to follow her own advice. Good sense didn’t have much in common with grief and guilt.

After her shower, she dressed and headed downtown to the Twisted Kiss. She noticed Michael’s motorcycle parked outside right off. Her eyes immediately searched for him as soon as she entered and found him seated in a booth in the back of the bar, dressed in black leather and staring down every move she made.

Her annoyance at his presence had eased since the day she’d gone to see the council. Sometime between then and now, the uncomfortable truth of her situation had been forced to register. No matter how much she didn’t want it—these men were her best chance at happiness.

The question was—did she deserve it?

Her gaze caught his and held as she crossed the floor to the bar. Both these men were incredibly potent on their own. She was pretty sure her head would explode if they ever tag-teamed her. Just the touch of Michael’s mind brushing ever so gently against hers was enough to make her shiver. Vamps could do that, enter your thoughts and sense your emotions if you didn’t guard against them properly.

There were some parts of the traditional vampire myth that held true. They needed blood to survive, but they could eat regular food too. They didn’t like sunlight, but they could endure it. Crucifixes and garlic had no effect on them. They weren’t the walking dead and they didn’t live forever. In fact, a vamp’s lifespan was the same as a human’s or a were’s. But in many ways, vamps and weres both classically followed their legendary ancestors.

And that was by design.

The government had been trying to bioengineer soldiers who had unique supernatural abilities to use during operations and had drawn from the qualities of werewolves and vampires as their models. That’s how doomsyear had kicked off. The techniques they’d been using to manipulate genetic structure had mutated into a highly contagious virus that had ripped through the human population, killing approximately 63 percent and transforming most of the rest into supes.

No one really knew where the psychics had come from. Some people believed they’d been sent here by God to guide those left behind after Armageddon. Kylie wasn’t sure what she thought about that. She’d only been a child during doomsyear, so if God had sent the viruses that had killed her mother, he’d also chosen to leave her behind on Earth motherless. She wasn’t sure she could believe God would do such a thing. Seemed more like pure chaos to her.

She passed through the bar, said
hi
to Cody and eased down the narrow corridor to her office. She needed to take care of a couple of minor things, then she’d go out and talk to Michael. She’d given in to her lust for Christian, so it wasn’t right she should avoid Michael.

Just as she was finishing up, someone knocked on her office door. She rose to answer it and found Michael standing on the other side holding an enormous bouquet of flowers.

“Flowers? For me?”

Michael didn’t have the same easy grin as Christian, but he gave her a sexy little smile with just a hint of fang. “I didn’t bring them for the cook.”

She took them and inhaled the scent of the artfully arranged roses and lilies. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I had hoped they might soften your sentiments toward me and you would allow me to take you out tonight.”

She looked down into the bouquet. She’d known he’d ask her and now that she’d opened Pandora’s box, she couldn’t say
no
. Not after last night. Michael deserved a fair shake too. She looked up at him. “Of course. Just let me put these in some water and grab my sweater.”

“I’ll wait by the bar.”

Five minutes later, they were walking out of the Twisted Kiss with all eyeballs on them. As she was leaving, she heard someone whisper, “What if they have kids? Will they be vamp or human?” Someone else chimed in, “Or maybe she’ll have a litter of puppies.” Everyone at the table laughed.

She rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear.

They walked to Michael’s bike and he tossed her a helmet. “Have you ever ridden one?”

“No.” She eyed the huge black-and-silver machine.

Motorcycles weren’t really rare these days. They were practical because they were better on gas than cars. Humans didn’t ride them much, though, leaving that to the supes who had better healing abilities. Cycles were dangerous, after all, and health care wasn’t exactly abundant or particularly stellar in the post-doomsyear world.

He pulled his helmet over his dark hair and mounted the cycle. “Get on and hold on to me.”

She hesitated a moment, but the power of her curiosity outweighed her apprehension and she pulled the helmet on and mounted behind him. Her arms came around his broad, warm body and she sighed in pleasure. Just a trace of musky cologne clung to his coat and she could feel the flex and bunch of muscles under the leather.

She did have to hand it to the council—they had good taste in men.

He started the cycle and it settled into a low purr before he eased away from the curb and headed down the street. The coolish evening breeze kissed her skin and the trees whipped past them faster and faster as they made their way out of town and into the country. It occurred to her that she’d never even asked Michael where he was planning to take her. She found it interesting that she instinctively trusted him.

A ways out of town, he took the cycle off-road and led her through the woods to the bottom of a hill. There, he turned off the bike, they dismounted, removed their helmets and he beckoned her up the side of the hill.

When she reached the top, she saw that he’d spread out a blanket with a nighttime picnic. There was cold chicken, fresh fruit, chocolate and wine spread out under a thick, soft blanket. Above their heads spread the magnificent night sky with a low, pregnant moon hanging amidst a sparkling array of stars. “Wow,” she breathed, looking heavenward.

“I thought you might enjoy this.”

She gazed at the spread, her stomach growling. “I had no idea you were so romantic.”

“I wanted to get you alone, Kylie. I thought this was a good way.”

She sank down onto the heavy comforter, thick enough to shield them from the chill of the ground. He sat down next to her and poured her a glass of wine. “There are no weres in these woods, are there? Full moon tonight.”

He looked up into the sky. “No. The Sweet Rock pack runs to the north of here. Christian won’t be out here tonight.” He looked at her. “Are you disappointed?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry—this is just strange for me. Two men vying for my attention. I’m not sure how to handle it without offending one of you.”

Michael prepared her a plate of food and she nibbled at it. “We were both named in the proclamation. We both understand the situation, Kylie.”

“I need to be clear with you. I went out with Christian last night, and even though at the beginning of the night I never intended—”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I was in the Twisted Kiss. I saw you leave with him.”

She gave him a sideways glance. “Did you follow us?”

“You are my soul mate, Kylie. Yes, I followed you. I saw you go back to his house.”

She swore under her breath and bowed her head. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t know how to handle two men at once.”

He moved toward her, tipping her chin up so she looked into his eyes. “I know you slept with him. I’m jealous he was the first, but I’m glad it happened. It means you’re opening up to the possibility of this.”

She stared into his dark eyes, her lips parted. She wanted him to kiss her. Damn her to hell, she wanted him to touch her. What kind of slut was she that she could go from sleeping with one man to wanting to sleep with another one twenty-four hours later?

Ugh, no matter how much her libido might be doing cartwheels over the possibility, she just couldn’t let herself.

“Michael…” She started to say that she found him incredibly attractive but that he shouldn’t expect her to be as easy tonight as she’d been last night, but he moved away instead and started eating his dinner.

Her sex drive protested even as her willpower breathed a sigh of relief.

She took a careful sip of wine, studying him in the moonlight. “You know, we’ve grown up in the same town, but I don’t know much about you. You’ve kept to yourself over the years.”

“You knew my grandfather, of course.”

“Yes. Everyone knew him.”

His grandfather and Michael were the only survivors in his family, everyone else succumbing to the virus while his grandfather and Michael turned vamp. Up until that time, the Sanborn family had been something of local celebrities. They’d been the wealthiest family around and had owned more than half the businesses in town.

“I look after what remains of my family’s legacy. My grandfather left a lot of real estate behind that I still take care of. I look after the investments the family still had after doomsyear. Everything is much diminished now, of course.”

Of course. The economy had been hellishly bad after doomsyear and had never really recovered. Her father and those who had survived had talked about the world before in terms she couldn’t understand. The excesses they’d had then were unbelievable. They’d had everything they wanted, and more. He’d told her they’d actually
thrown away food
back then,
left the water running
while they brushed their teeth. They’d had something called
air conditioning
all the time in the summer, and sometimes they’d gone shopping just for fun—not necessarily because they’d needed something.
Crazy.
There’d been tons of stocked stores back then. Now all those stores were rotting husks of their former selves and the selection was only a fraction of what it had been before doomsyear.

She tipped her head to the side, studying him. “You’re not bored, not having a formal job?”

“Managing those investments and taking care of those properties takes more time than you might imagine.”

“I can imagine. Just taking care of the farmhouse my dad left me is a big job.”

“It’s a big place.”

She grew wistful. “It needed to be. It used to be filled with lots of people.”

“Doomsyear was kind to none of us.”

She traced her finger along the blanket. “Do you believe in the Armageddon theory?”

He gave his head a sharp shake. “I believe in the People-Do-Stupid-Shit theory.”

“I do too.”

Since doomsyear, the US government was a shadow of its former self. Martial law had been declared in the wake of the virus. It had been just as well—the local health systems had been completely unable to deal with the mass panic and the ensuing problem created by so many people falling ill, so fast, and either succumbing or turning.

“It’s hard for me to believe that if doomsyear had never happened, I would not need to have blood in my diet to survive.”

“Hmm…not such a blessing. You’d be more prone to sickness, not as fast, or as physically strong and you wouldn’t have those quirky little psychic benefits. I would say you got lucky during doomsyear, compared to the rest of us. Well, with the exception of the weres. Sometimes I wish I would have turned supe instead of just being naturally immune to the virus.”

“Which would you have liked best, vamp or were?”

“Hmm.” She looked up into the sky, considering her answer. “They both have their advantages. I love the strength and speed of the vampires, but the ability to shed your human self for wolf and run like a wild thing through the woods is pretty seductive too.”

“You can still shed your human self and run through the woods like a wild thing, Kylie. Strip everything off and let yourself go. Why not do it once in a while?” He looked around him. “Why not now?”

She laughed. “What? Do you mean take my clothes off and run around in the woods?”

“If it would make you feel free, why not?”

She laughed again, looking down at the blanket. “Maybe I will sometime, but not now. I’m enjoying my time with you too much.”

He crawled over to her and pulled the wine glass from her fingers.

“Uh, Michael?”

He ignored her, instead placing his mouth gently to hers.

She melted, all thoughts of how she couldn’t sleep with him right now, gone from the first touch of his mouth. Damn it, apparently three years of abstinence didn’t matter—she was a slut through and through.