Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Before Charlie could process what Simon had said, he heard footsteps approaching in the hallway. Mr. Denton was returning.
A second later, he appeared in the doorway, grumbling. “I’ll just have to do everything by myself again. You good to get home?"
"I'm taking him," Simon said before Charlie had a chance to answer.
Mr. Denton looked between them. "Aren't you the guy who came 'round here asking about him earlier?"
"It was a prank. We're cousins."
The store manager eyed the hunter skeptically. "Cousins?" he repeated.
"Distant cousins," Simon said.
Charlie had to speak up. "I don't—"
"He can barely stand," Simon cut in, gesturing at him. "I'll make sure he gets home safe."
Mr. Denton shrugged. "Fine by me. Make sure you get better, Charlie."
After that, Charlie followed Simon out because what else was he going to do? Argue with the hunter who'd already tracked him down twice? In front of his boss?
Outside, the parking lot was mostly empty except for a few cars and—
"No," Charlie said, stopping dead at the sight of the motorcycle Simon was leading him to. "Absolutely not."
Simon was already pulling on a helmet. "What's the problem?"
"I've never been on one of those. I'll fall off. I'll die."
Simon turned to look at him, and even with the helmet on, Charlie could feel the weight of his stare. "You're a vampire. You're already dead. You just forgot to die."
Wow. Rude. "I can still get hurt!"
"You have accelerated healing."
"Not if my head comes off!"
"Your head's not going to come off." Simon swung a leg over the bike. "Unless you keep wasting my time. Then I might remove it myself."
Charlie winced. "Don't you have a spare helmet?"
"No."
"That's illegal!"
Simon started the engine. The growl made Charlie's bones vibrate. "So is being an undead creature of the night. Get on."
Charlie looked back at the store, then at Simon waiting on the bike, leather jacket and dark helmet making him look like something out of Charlie's extremely inappropriate dreams.
No. Not dreams. Nightmares. Definitely nightmares.
"If I die—"
"You're already dead. We covered this."
Charlie approached the bike like it might bite him. Which, given his recent luck with things that bite, wasn't unreasonable.
"How do I—?"
"Left foot on the peg. Swing your right leg over. Don't touch the exhaust."
Charlie managed it on the second try, nearly kicking Simon in the process.
"Sorry, I—"
"Arms around my waist."
"What?"
Simon reached back, grabbed Charlie's wrists, and pulled his arms around his middle. "Unless you want to test that accelerated healing when you hit the asphalt at sixty."
For a moment, Charlie's brain stopped working, and then he became aware of several things at once.
Like that Simon was warm. Incredibly warm.
The hunter smelled like leather and something sharp and clean, like winter air.
With his arms around Simon's waist, Charlie was essentially hugging the man who hunted vampires for a living.
And his body did not hate this as much as it should.
"Hold on tight," Simon said. "Not that tight. Christ, ease up. You trying to crack my ribs?"
"Sorry!" Charlie loosened his grip slightly.
The bike lurched forward and Charlie immediately tightened his arms again, pressing his face against Simon's shoulder blade.
"I said ease up!"
"I can't! You're going too fast!"
"We're going fifteen miles per hour!"
"That's too fast!"
Simon muttered something that got lost in the engine noise but sounded deeply exasperated. The bike picked up speed as they turned onto the main road, and Charlie gave up any pretense of dignity. He plastered himself against Simon's back, eyes squeezed shut, fingers twisted in the leather jacket.
Every turn pressed them closer together. Every acceleration made Charlie's already confused body even more confused. He was terrified. He was starving. He was pushed up against someone who radiated heat and strength and could probably bench press him with one hand.
His fangs ached, and he wasn't sure this reaction was entirely caused by hunger.
"Stop shaking," Simon called back over the wind.
"I'm not shaking!"
"You're vibrating like a phone on silent."
"That's because I'm terrified!"
Simon took a sharp turn and Charlie made an undignified sound, burying his face completely against Simon's back. Through the leather, he could feel muscle, solid and reassuring.
And Charlie really liked his scent.
It wasn't something he should think about, but every smell was more intense now that he was a vampire, and this wasn't one he could ignore.
No matter how much he should not be sniffing the man who wanted to stake him.
All his traitorous body knew was that Simon was warm and strong and—
The bike slowed.
Charlie cracked one eye open. They were pulling into an underground garage.
"You can let go now," Simon said.
Charlie realized he was still clinging like a koala. He carefully unwound his arms, trying to dismount with some dignity.
His legs immediately gave out.
Simon caught his elbow before he hit the concrete. "Pathetic."
But even as he said it, his other hand came up to Charlie's shoulder, steadying him properly. His grip shifted, firm but careful, making sure Charlie had his balance before starting to let go.
"I'm sorry my vampire powers don't include motorcycle expertise," Charlie snapped, then immediately cringed. "I mean—sorry. Thank you. For not letting me fall."
"Come on," Simon said, voice gruff. "Before someone sees us."
He headed for an elevator, but Charlie noticed he walked slower than before, staying within arm's reach. Like he expected Charlie to collapse again and was ready for it.
Charlie stumbled after him on jellyfish legs, wondering—not for the first time—what the hell he'd gotten himself into.