Chapter 38
LEAH
“Idon’t understand this.” Marcus slides out of the passenger seat of the sedan.
We’re just down the road from the mayor’s house, and my grand plan consists of popping the keys into his mailbox and running.
“I don’t need cars, but I remember cars being invented.
They are coveted. This one is perfectly adequate. ”
I groan. “Perfectly adequate and also belonging to the most important member of the town. I can’t drive it, and I can’t sell it because it’s stolen.” I throw up my hands. “What am I going to do with my enemy’s car?”
“Gloat.” He shrugs. “Parade it in front of them.” He slaps a palm down on the hood, hard enough to dent it, and I wince. “Strip it for parts and scatter them in his front yard.”
“Well, I was fresh out of heads, so I suppose a carburetor will do.”
My words are dry, but Marcus’s eyes spark. “Exactly.”
I shake my head. “No. We are going to leave the keys quietly in the mailbox and leave. Maybe ring the doorbell. Maybe. And then run.”
“Run?” Marcus’s eyes narrow. “No running.” He flicks a derisive glance at the mayor’s distant property. The family compound where the entire siren clan lives. He starts stalking for the house, then grabs my arm and flashes. We reappear on a porch, inside the iron gates. An alarm is wailing.
He folds his arms. Even in the silly ballcap and the sweatpants, he looks threatening. He looks like he’s prepared to crush whichever unlucky family member opens the door.
“Are you still getting bigger?” I hiss.
A pleased smile. “You noticed. And yes. My mate’s blood is giving me strength.” His gaze turns proprietary before the door opens and his nostrils flare.
Dawn stands on the doorstep in a long white dress, hair unbound.
Her eyes are glowing green, the way they did every time she entranced a guy in high school.
I remember distinctly one field day when one of the werewolves asked me to partner with him, and she bewitched him away.
He was literally panting by the end of it.
She spread rumors that I didn’t wash my clothes and his nose was too sensitive to handle it.
Marcus’s jaw is set. I need to intervene before he stabs her.
“Here.”
I thrust the keys in her face, dangling them.
She flicks me a wrinkled, unamused glance. “Why are you here?”
I take a long inhale and force myself to be calm. She’s a siren, soft and vulnerable, and stabbing her will do no good. “Your keys,” I grind out. “To the Bentley?”
“You took my car?” Her voice is incredulous. “That’s low, even for you.”
I grind my teeth. I feel Marcus tense next to me.
“You need to stop spreading rumors about me,” I finally say.
“I’m sorry about your brother, but we were young and he was going to kill that girl, and no one did anything to stop him except for me, and I am sick of being punished for it.
” I jam my mouth shut before I can keep rambling.
Dawn’s face is shuttered, but her chin wobbles, before she presses her lips flat. She gives me a shallow nod.
The mayor appears behind his daughter. “What’s this? Are you threatening us?” He puffs up and his eyes start to glow.
Marcus leans in, fangs bared.
“Turn down your headlights, siren,” Marcus says silkily. “I suffer you to live because my mate wills it.”
Dawn sucks in air. I want to sink under the porch.
Mate.
He called me his mate in public.
I should not like it.
“She will take payment up front for all future jobs.”
“And hazard pay,” I add. “I almost lost a hand last time.”
Marcus slices me a smile edged with pride.
The mayor opens his mouth to argue, expression ugly. I brace myself for he’ll say, half certain I deserve it, half resentful that his family put me in this position.
Dawn lays a hand on her father’s arm. “Done,” she says. “For what it’s worth, Leah, I won’t forget, but I know you did what needed to be done.”
I sag in relief, throat tight.
Marcus leans forward and snaps the mayor’s jaw shut with a single finger before he grabs my hand and flashes us back home.
An hour later, I have learned my lesson—never take an immortal vampire to Costco.
Marcus is mobbed, as predicted. I want to start filming.
One woman asks him if he’ll get something down for her, and when his t-shirt rides up and she catches a glimpse of his stomach, she fans herself and rapidly decides she needs another box of soda.
I laugh into my elbow and he glares at me. And then he bumps his hat into a shelf and turns it backward. The laugh dies in my throat.
Goddess.
He’s too handsome to be real.
The woman to my left gives me a sympathetic shake of her head. “Can’t be easy,” she says. “My husband, rest in peace, was a ladies’ man too.”
I give her a mute nod, trying not to laugh, then direct Marcus to the appliances.
“What was she saying?” He pushes the cart with one hand, looking pleased at the spoils, as he calls them.
He is equally pleased by the sizes of everything.
He seems unusually concerned about a siege.
When we picked up coffee, he glanced at my face, then hefted the largest bag onto his shoulder and dumped all fifty pounds of it into the cart.
“Just saying I should be careful because you’re such a ladies’ man.”
He smirks. “You have nothing to worry about.”
I slide him a look. “I should leave you here. See if you survive.”
He waves a hand in the air before his gaze hardens.
“What?” I turn to see a guy checking me out. He gives me a sheepish little smile, and a rumble dredges up from Marcus’s chest. I squeeze the hard muscle of Marcus’s biceps. “No eating humans in Costco,” I hiss.
“What about after Costco?” His eyes are silvering.
I reach for a coffee maker on the top shelf, and the vampire’s hand lands on mine. His other hand grips my waist.
“Let me,” he coaxes. Normally, I’d argue, tell him I’m okay, that I’ve done this myself a hundred times. But I like the way he feels against me—firm muscle, bigger than me, broader and so very capable. He hefts the box down, examines the price and the ratings on the side.
“World’s best espresso maker.” His eyes narrow. “For four hundred and ninety-nine human dollars? Is that a lot?”
“To me.”
He gives me a considering glance before he scans the shelf. His smile is edged. “That one.”
“That’s professional quality and over one thousand dollars.”
“Is that a lot?” He winks before I can respond, then grabs it and sets it gently in the cart. He looks all too pleased with himself, and I have a traitorous thought—I could get used to this.
I wouldn’t mind having him around. I wouldn’t mind his jealousy or the staring. I think I might really like keeping him.