Chapter 11
DROWNED RAT ISN’T MY BEST LOOK
RAYA
I’m sitting at the hotel bar that evening, nursing a grapefruit mocktail and contemplating the disaster that is currently my life, when my least favorite person slides up to the bar next to me.
“Hey, sunshine. Mind if I join you?” Asher asks, and his smooth voice sends involuntary shivers down my spine.
I ignore the mocking nickname and gesture to the open stool. He sits without turning away from me, then orders “whatever she’s having.”
His eyebrows go up in surprise when he takes a sip and notices there’s no alcohol.
“Not a drinker?” he asks.
I shrug. “Just figured now wasn’t a good time.”
I’ll blame it on work if he asks, though the reality is that I assume alcohol won’t help with the shifting situation I’m struggling with.
He simply nods, and my shoulders relax a fraction as we fall into a semi-easy silence, until he breaks it a couple minutes later.
“I was serious about what I said earlier.” He glances sideways at me, blue eyes surrounded by dark lashes, while twirling the glass in slow circles on the bar. “About helping you.”
I try not to scoff, remembering he had said something about controlling his urges.
“What did you mean, when you said you had to learn to control your urges?” It’s not what I intended to say, but as usual, my curiosity gets the better of me.
“Well…” he trails off, giving me another sideways look, so I school my face into a neutral expression and raise my eyebrows for him to continue. He rubs his thumb and forefinger over his brow, kneading at his temples for a moment.
“Being a full-blooded vampire from a strong, ancient line can be challenging.”
This time the scoff comes out in a full blown snort, because right. Being from one of the wealthiest, most influential families in the world must be such a hardship.
“Never mind," he says, shaking his head and turning slightly away from me.
A punch of guilt hits my chest and I frown, both at his reaction and mine. I don’t treat anyone else this way, but he brings out my defensiveness like no one else has. Before I can think better of it, I’m encouraging him to continue.
“I’m sorry, that was insensitive. Please, explain.”
His chest expands with a deep breath, then he slowly turns back toward me on the exhale, and his stormy blue eyes meet mine. They’re piercing and soul searching, and I don’t think I could move a single muscle if I wanted to, which I don’t.
Slowly, he nods at whatever he finds within me, then begins to explain.
“When I said I was from a strong bloodline, what I meant is that it makes our impulses stronger. Our vampiric instincts can become overwhelming and hard to control, which my parents only encouraged, but learning to listen to my body, to be more in tune with myself and those instincts has allowed me to take charge. Even when my inner vampire would rather rip into someone’s neck. ”
His eyes flick to the pulse now hammering in my own neck, and I shudder at the cold reminder and the mental image it brings of a bloody, horror-filled life. I take a sip of my drink to give myself a moment to take in his vicious words.
“What do you mean that your parents encouraged it?”
His eyes leave mine at this question, and I tilt my head at him as he takes another deep breath, then runs his fingers through dark, messy hair that looks like he’s already done so fifty times today.
“Let’s just say we don’t agree on what it means to be a vampire.”
I don’t know what to say to that, because I’m pretty sure being a vampire means drinking blood. The concept seems clear cut to me, but he doesn’t look inclined to expand on it.
“Okay,” I say, “but don’t you drink from humans anyway?”
He looks back at me with a smirk that I feel low in my belly, and leans teasingly into my space.
“Only if they want me to," he whispers, breath ghosting across my ear, and my nose is filled with the smoky scent of him as he pulls away.
“Why would they want that?” I match his whisper, my eyes bouncing between his, which are glimmering in the low bar lighting.
“Maybe someday you’ll find out.” He throws the last of his drink back as he stands. “I’d be happy to oblige, all you have to do is ask.”
With that, he flashes his fangs at me as one side of his mouth tips up in a crooked smile that has no business being as sexy as it is. I shiver as his gaze dips down my body before he strides out, vehemently denying to myself that any part of me likes the look of those pointy teeth.
I need some space. After gulping down the rest of my drink, I think about taking a walk, but don’t want to deal with the oppressive heat wave happening right now.
I see a sign for the pool and realize a relaxing swim sounds perfect for clearing my head; all I have to worry about is running into Asher in our room.
I press my ear to our door to see if he’s inside before entering. A sigh leaves my body when I find it empty, although again, I’m confused by the conflicting feelings of relief and disappointment that waft through me.
A quick bathroom change into my bikini and a hotel-provided robe has me skipping for the pool in no time. Somehow, there’s no one else here when I arrive, and I assume all the TwitchCon people must be too drained to do anything other than crash in their rooms.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I pile my towel and robe on a chair before jumping right in.
I swim a couple laps back and forth, then dive to the bottom and tip my head back, looking at the water rippling above me.
When I come up for air, I float on my back with my eyes closed and ears barely under the surface, relaxing with the gurgling filter and dull hum from the heaters in my ears.
I ease my eyes open with a soft, contented smile on my face, then let out an unholy screech, splashing and flailing when I accidentally inhale some water in my shock at seeing someone looming above me on the edge of the pool.
Spluttering and coughing, I manage to half-swim to the shallow area and put my feet down, then round on Asher with fire in my eyes.
“You,” I pant between the words as my brain tries to catch up. “Scared me!”
“I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you would have heard me come in. You know, shifter senses and all.”
I’m still gasping for breath and trying to slow my racing pulse. I push a hand against my chest, the hard drum of my heart beating against my palm.
“You good?” he asks, and I look up to see him standing in the water next to me, startling me again, and I hiccup in response.
He pats me gently on the back to help clear my lungs, and the zing of his large hand and warm skin against mine causes a certain, unwelcome tingle to shoot through me.
“Oh Mother Moon, please.” I look to the sky, drawing out the last word in desperation, but it does no good.
Before I even finish speaking, my ears have shifted.
Lowering my chin back down, I reach up with both hands to feel them, trying to figure out what sort of animal has graced me this time, but I wrinkle my nose in confusion when I feel narrow, pointed ears with thick fur sticking out of the top of my head.
Kind of like one of those cat-ear headbands I saw a cosplayer sporting on their way to the Con earlier.
Asher angles his head, eyes flickering over my hair and ears, and whatever I was feeling earlier instantly turns to mortification.
This, of course, only seems to encourage my inner shifter. Next thing I know, I’m covered in sopping wet grey fur, and I feel exactly how I imagine I look—like a soaking wet rat.
When I look back at Asher though, his lips are tilted, curving up into a small smile.
“I look like a drowned rat, don’t I?” I say, my voice clearly conveying how miserable I am about it.
“Nah,” he says, but at my skeptical look, he turns course. “Okay, maybe a little.”
Then he has the audacity to chuckle. I fume, feeling my skin heat with anger instead of embarrassment.
How dare he laugh at me? Make light of my situation, humiliate me.
“Stars and teeth! You are the worst!” I feel ready to combust, and I hardly notice when my fingernails sharpen into what might be cat claws.
Covering his mouth with one hand, Asher appears flabbergasted when he repeats, “Stars and… teeth?”
“It’s a phrase! People say it.” My emotions are going haywire.
Is this the moon? I’ve always been a ‘big feeler’, as my mom says, but my emotions aren’t normally this chaotic.
I can’t tell if I’m annoyed or angry or amused by his reactions to me.
The water sluicing down his sculpted chest certainly isn’t helping.
“Riiiight.” He draws the word out, nodding seriously to make it clear he doesn’t believe me, before cracking up again.
“Why are you laughing?”
He tries to reign in his chuckling, but he can’t erase the mirth from his eyes.
“You’re just so cute, I can’t help it," he says, gliding closer.
“I’m.. what?” There’s no way he thinks this soggy mouse look with… whatever ears are on my head, is cute.
“I mean, the red fox ears, and that little scowl you keep trying on. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“Cute," I deadpan.
He seems to realize that I think he’s making fun of me, so he wades even closer, following as I back into the wall, then pauses right before our bodies meet. With his hand barely under the surface, centimeters from the fur covering my arm, he meets my gaze again with that intense stare.
“Yes, sunshine,” he says, his voice more quiet and serious than it was before.
I stare at him, unable to decode what I see in his eyes, or untangle the confusing knot of emotions swirling inside myself.
My body makes the decision for me as I move slightly, just enough for his fingertips to graze my upper arm.
As he traces his fingers down to my wrist, it’s like he erases the fur from my skin.
It recedes in the wake of his touch, the cat claws disappearing too, and I shudder as I watch it happen.
My eyes travel up his roped forearm, taking in the strength in his form, his broad chest with a dusting of dark hair, the lines of his throat bobbing as my gaze moves over it, and my ears twitch on top of my head.
My eyes latch onto his lips, then I flash my gaze up to his, only to see a burning heat reflected back at me.
I gasp, eyes flaring, but have nowhere to go. My back is already pushed up against the edge of the pool, and my hands fly to his chest. Whether to push him away or to feel more of his skin against mine, I can’t say. Maybe a little of both.
Asher’s eyes cut to my neck, where my pulse is pounding through me, and I clench my thighs beneath the water. He notices the movement, and his lips part. His tongue licks over the fangs that have extended in his mouth, and it’s my turn to gulp a hard swallow.
He takes a shuddering breath as he jerks away from me, dragging a hand through his hair again before dunking his entire body under the water.
I’m still frozen against the wall when he emerges a few feet further away and straightens in the waist deep water, facing slightly away from me.
It runs down his shoulders and back in tantalizing rivulets and I cross my arms over my chest to hide my reaction to him.
He pauses at the movement, but then clenches his jaw as he strides up the steps out of the pool. Throwing a “see you in the room” back at me, he slips his feet into sandals and wraps a towel around his waist as he leaves.
I wait a few minutes, then slowly glide to the steps, feeling like I’m following a ghost when I take the same path he did. I towel off and pull on the robe, my mind spinning and unable to make sense of what just happened between us as I head back to the room.