Chapter 11
Warmth slid through Abby as if a heated rolling pin moved just beneath her skin the second Noah spoke. That voice. Low and gritty and hoarse. And the night before, her name had been all he’d said. Hearing it now, even though he was giving orders, unleashed a sense inside her of belonging.
After a one night stand.
Yeah, she was a complete and utter dork. Just like one of those silly high school girls all giggly over the hot rebel boy who’d given her a nod in the hallway. Okay. She had been that girl at one time, and she’d enjoyed those days. Now she was all grown up and needed to act like it, damn it.
“Abby?” Noah partially leaned down to see her beyond Tabitha. “We need to talk.”
Oh, crap. For the brushoff? Wait a minute.
Nobody went looking for somebody to give the brushoff.
If Noah didn’t want to see her again, he sure the heck wouldn’t be standing in the middle of the road.
“Okay.” She looked at Tabitha. “How about I go take a shower, and we meet up later today for my first day of work?” She really needed this job, but a shower was imperative at this moment. Her hair felt like a disaster.
The detective stood next to Noah, his gaze shrewd. “I’d like to know what you two ladies are doing casing the bank.”
Well, that’s what they’d been doing, apparently. Abby licked her lips. Tabi didn’t really want to rob a bank, did she? The woman had to have been kidding. “We’re not casing anything,” she said, sliding from the car and standing, stretching her back slightly.
A police car stopped in the middle of the road between the detective’s car and Noah’s. The sheriff stepped out and hitched his belt up over his beer belly. “Why the hell is there a truck parked in the middle of the street?” he snapped.
A lump formed in Abby’s throat. Crap. The guy hated her.
The sheriff’s gaze caught hers. “You’re under probation, Mrs. Loften. Do we have a problem here?”
Noah started to move for the man just as the detective cut him off. “My fault, Sheriff,” O’Connell said easily. “I asked Mr. Siosal to stop for a second, and I wasn’t clear with directions. He’s just about to move the truck ahead and park.”
“Actually,” Noah drawled, striding around the front of the car and taking Abby’s hand in his, “I was just going to take my girlfriend to breakfast. And her name is Miss Miller, not Mrs. Loften, Sheriff.” He paused and looked down at her. “Or do you prefer Ms.?”
Abby stumbled. “I, ah, Miss is fine.” Noah felt solid and strong next to her.
Had he just said girlfriend? Was it to piss the sheriff off, or did he mean it?
They hadn’t discussed dating. Maybe that was why he wanted to talk.
The temptation to let him take over was almost too much to resist, but she was done hiding and done being terrified.
Yeah, being wanted by a guy like him might’ve given her some of her newfound pride, but she’d been heading that direction anyway.
Anger did that to a gal. So she removed her hand from Noah’s and stepped in front of him to face the sheriff.
“I’m finished with you trying to intimidate me. ”
The sheriff’s eyebrows went up, and his chin down. “Excuse me?”
She put her hands on her hips. “My ex is an asshole, and you know it. And even though he’s your childhood buddy, you can’t use the law to hurt people. Not anymore.”
“Really. You’re a criminal on probation. Exactly what do you plan to do?” the sheriff spat, his bulbous nose twitching.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’ll call everyone with a phone. FBI, CIA, Attorney General. I’m done with this nonsense.” Her stomach cramped and her head ached, but she faced him squarely.
Noah leaned down, his mouth near her ear. “You done making a stand? I’m starving.”
She shivered from his warm breath and then rolled out a laugh, feeling lighter than she had in years.
“I could eat, after I head home for a quick shower.” Then she took his hand as if she had every right to do so and tugged him toward the street.
“You’re blocking traffic.” Well, if there was any traffic.
Some might be coming. “Breakfast is on you.” She pointedly ignored the sheriff as Noah opened her door and she climbed up.
Noah slid into the truck and sped off, veering just close enough to the sheriff to make the guy jump back. “We have a lot to talk about.”
She rubbed her neck. “You bit me.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as they drove between quaint looking businesses and out of the main area of town.
“Yeah. That’s one of the things we need to discuss.
” He glanced her way, his black eyes serious.
“But first, I want the entire story of your marriage, the sheriff, and why it felt like you just drew a line in the sand.”
Yeah, if they were going to date, he deserved the entire story. Plus, she found herself wanting to share with him. He was a nice man and she could trust him. It wasn’t like he’d hidden anything from her, which was a lovely change. The guy was an open book.
“Well, it started with a car wreck when I hit a cow,” she began, settling into the warm seat.
* * * *
Abby finished swiping on lip-gloss after a warm shower, her tattered terrycloth robe wrapped around her.
She’d been a little embarrassed to bring Noah into her crappy apartment, but he’d headed right for the kitchen and found a yogurt to eat.
He still wanted to talk, and it was his turn.
She felt so much better after having shared her story.
Sometimes she felt stupid or weak for staying with Monte, but Noah seemed to understand.
She moved into her bedroom and threw on a green sweater that brought out that color in her eyes.
Then she grabbed jeans and paused. Her hip was still burning.
Looking down, she stilled. What the hell?
Leaning over, she looked closer. Her hip and part of her butt showed a tattoo of an S surrounded by rough knots and lines. A brand?
Stumbling against her dresser, she tried to grab ahold of reality. What? How? It had happened in the shower. She remembered her hip hurting during sex. But what the holy hell of holy hells? She began stomping toward the door when male voices caught her attention.
Something crashed against the wall.
Damn it. She jumped into her jeans and ran toward the living room, zipping them up on the way. Had Monte come by after the stupid sheriff called him?
She dodged into the living room just as Noah flew past her to hit the fridge, denting it in three places. The door opened, and her other two yogurts fell out, hitting the floor and exploding. Blood covered his chest and poured from three distinct holes. Had he been shot?
Her mouth dropped open, and she turned to see a massive man with odd metallic eyes. He smiled, a glowing green gun in his large hand. “Hello.”
With a roar, Noah leaped between them and tackled the man, hitting him so hard they impacted the wall by the door and crumpled it outward. Plaster rained down, dust spinning through the air. The guy shot Noah again in the neck, and Noah bellowed, grabbing his bloody jaw.
“Noah,” Abby screamed, panicking. She looked frantically around for any weapon.
Noah stiffened and then kicked the guy’s hand, sending the gun spiraling beneath the couch. “How dare you come to my mate’s home,” he growled, his voice sounding inhuman.
“Figured I’d catch you off guard.” The guy slammed the edges of both hands down on Noah’s neck. “Too bad she’s about to be a widow.”
Noah punched the guy in the throat, stood, and lifted him to throw into the fridge.
He turned, blood still pouring from his wound, his eyes an unreal green and.
..fangs. Fangs slid down from Noah’s mouth, sharp and deadly.
He jumped for the guy and slashed those deadly points into the other guy’s jugular, ripping deep.
Abby screamed, backing toward her bedroom. This wasn’t happening. She’d fallen asleep, and this was a nightmare. Noah did not have fangs.
The other guy yelled, and fangs dropped in his mouth. His eyes turned a bright gold, and he turned, punching and trying to sink those weapons into Noah’s flesh.
Noah rolled them over, his mouth still working.
He twisted his head and ripped out part of the guy’s neck.
Growling, nowhere near human, he yanked a huge knife from his boot and plunged it into the guy’s throat.
Straddling the guy, he slashed with the sharpened blade, back and forth.
The guy struggled fiercely, but his eyes soon closed.
Noah finished the job, slashing all the way through muscle and bone. The guy’s head rolled away from his body and through the spilled yogurt to land near the cupboard beneath the sink, blood mixing with blueberry and crumbles.
Abby couldn’t move. Her body froze more solid than a deer on a country road in headlights. Her mind just stopped working. Completely.
Noah shoved off the corpse and stood, turning to face her. Blood had splattered across his rugged face, mingling with the red now trickling from his neck. Blood covered his gray T-shirt with more sliding from the smoking bullet holes across his chest.
She backed up, her butt hitting her door frame.
His fangs slid back up, and he tucked his thumbs in his bloody jeans. “So. Guess we should talk.”
She frantically shook her head. No talking. Noah had just murdered another fanged creature in her kitchen. “You’re, a, vampire?” Her voice shook so hard the words each held extra syllables. How was it possible?
“Just half,” he said, his voice grittier than normal. Harsh, even. The green in his eyes slowly disappeared to leave the all black hue. “Part demon. I’m a hybrid.”
She inched toward the door opening. The lock on her bedroom door sucked, but it was something. “Hybrid,” she whispered.
He shrugged, and the hole in his neck slowly closed. “Yeah. We’re just different species from humans. Nothing crazy or anything.”
She coughed, the sound hysterical. Not crazy? “I, ah, don’t want to be a vampire. Or a demon.” God. Was she food to him? She reached for the door and then paused as he straightened from his casual pose in a warning that was too clear to ignore. “You should go.”
“You can’t be a vampire or demon, Abs,” he said. “We’re a different species, and we only take blood in extreme situations like sex or war. We eat steaks, drink wine, and are fine in the sun. Some legends are true, but most are just stupid. We live among you, and we have no reason to hurt you.”
Her hip began to burn. “Wait. You bit my neck.”
“Yep.” His eyes glowed green through the black. “You taste like hope and sunshine.”
Oh. Well. She frowned. “My hip. You branded me?” Her voice rose on the last along with a hysteria she was finding increasingly hard to keep at bay.
Now he blanched. “Yeah. Well, it’s like this.
When a demon finds his mate, a brand appears on his hand.
Mine appeared after our first night together and most of my people believe in fate.
I never really did until I met you, and now I’m rethinking that.
During a mating, the brand is transferred to the mate.
Usually we can control it, but after being blown up and drinking three bottles of homemade bourbon, I wasn’t myself.
My skull and brain took another whole day to fix, to be honest.” He wiped blood off his cheekbone.
“We have healing cells that we send to injured areas. It’s quite handy. ”
Mate? “What does mating mean?” She rubbed her hip. How was any of this real? “I’m a demon?” How had she even said those words? But she’d seen the fangs and she now had a tattoo on her ass.
“No. You’re a mate. Your chromosomal pairs will increase until you’re as immortal as I am. Only beheading can kill you.” His eyelids lowered, giving him a primitive look that was right at home on his hard face. “And mating is forever. Period.”