22. Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
S lake It Off was more crowded today than it had been the evening before. Apparently lunchtime was a common slaking hour. The rich, salty aroma coming from behind the bar and from glasses on a serving tray that passed by them—Leslie swallowed hard, half thirsty despite slaking that morning.
“Before we settle in, I think I want a drink,” she said.
Ryker gestured her to the bar. “My treat.”
“I guess sparring and vertical climbing take more physical effort than hiking my mountains.”
“Sparring definitely uses more energy, at least for me.”
“Are you thirsty too?”
Ryker shrugged.
“Have you slaked since last night?”
“Nah.”
At the bar, Claire poured her a glass. Ryker got out his wallet, and Leslie gave him a look she hoped was both clear and persuasive. She didn’t want to be pushy, but she couldn’t forget Senna’s reprimand about ignoring his thirst.
“Okay,” he said with an eye roll. “Two please, Claire.”
“Any type?”
“Whatever.”
Claire rolled her eyes right back at him. “I do not understand how you don’t have a preference.”
“A preference?” Leslie said. “Blood’s blood.”
“Not at all,” Ryker intoned with a professor’s somberness. “Claire Vanderlaan is among the elite vampires whose palates detect the most subtle differences.”
No way. “That’s a thing?”
“I prefer type A,” Claire said. “The tang is sharper, and it’s less earthy than O.”
“You’re serious.”
“She is deadly serious,” Ryker said. “She can taste all sorts of subtleties I’ve never even heard of.”
“No wonder you have a type tasting on the menu.” Leslie had wondered about it, written on the chalkboard behind the bar. But last time they’d been here, she had been sidetracked from asking by Ryker’s urgent need, then the tour, then the enjoyment of privacy behind the partition.
“When someone orders my sampler, I know they’ve got a palate like mine.” The flash of Claire’s teeth held a bit of predatory glee. “It leads to some great conversations.”
Claire poured a second glass for Ryker, and then he and Leslie took their beverages to one of the private booths. They sat a moment, sipping. Leslie’s gums ached as her fangs descended, and she sat absorbing the wonder of being here in public, not needing to conceal herself. Energy flooded into her as she continued to sip.
Ryker took a long gulp from his glass, then seemed to need a breath as his cheeks flushed with the same energy that had filled Leslie’s body.
“You were thirsty,” she said, her fangs bringing a soft hiss to the last word.
“I guess I was.” Ryker hissed his s’s too, and his husky velvet voice in combination with the effect of his fangs was…kind of sexy. “I didn’t notice until now, when I tasted it.”
“Your mom’s right. You’ve got to work on this.”
“I know I should, but…” He shrugged, self-deprecation in his fanged grin. “I never remember.”
Leslie took a few more sips, and the energy sang through her whole body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slaked twice in a day. It felt good. Really good. “Wow. If I let myself slake multiple times a day for too long, I might end up like Tai.”
Ryker set his glass down, and he met her eyes with a laser focus. “No. You wouldn’t. I wouldn’t either.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I said it.” She traced the rim of her glass with one finger, then met his eyes again. “I don’t like the way they put you in the middle, but I just did it myself.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “After he left the gym, Tai texted me. Now that he’s met you, he gave me permission to…um, elaborate. A little. If you brought it up.”
“He told you to tell me about his private life?”
“He doesn’t want to have the conversation with you, but you might need to know at some point when there’s not time to explain.”
If Tai had given permission… She couldn’t deny her curiosity toward a vampire whose experience was so different from her own. Asking questions felt wrong, though. She took another sip while Ryker drained the rest of his glass.
“So,” he said, then stared at his empty glass for a long moment before continuing. “For Tai, the rush of slaking is only part of the battle. There’s also the thirst.”
She nodded encouragement when he hesitated.
“Okay, for example… When I picked you up yesterday after not slaking for twenty-eight hours, the thirst sort of clobbered me. My throat started aching and I couldn’t talk.”
She nodded. She’d never experienced what she’d seen happen to Ryker last night, but she’d also never forgotten to slake for four hours past her usual schedule.
“For Tai, the thirst is like…ten times stronger than that. If he had to last twenty-eight hours without slaking, his fangs would descend, and he’d be dangerous.”
Wait. What? “Dangerous—you mean to humans?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my gosh, Ryker.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s the thing I might need to know. Without time to explain.”
“Look, he’s extremely responsible about this, Leslie. There’s never been a situation like that since I’ve known him. He gave me permission to tell you out of the overabundance of caution that is how Tai lives his life.”
His reassurance quelled the worried visions that had begun filling her head. Still, though… “I thought vampires slaking from humans was like our bite ‘turning’ them. You know, pure Hollywood. I thought it wasn’t something we did—ever, at any time for any reason.”
“We don’t now. Previous eras were different, until it became a major taboo and then, eventually, a crime.”
Of course, Leslie knew some humans spun conspiracies about the topic—take the creepy guy from college study group as only one example. But some humans also denied that wolves, whom they called lupines despite wolves’ distaste for the term, even existed. And Ryker wasn’t describing this in human conspiracy terms. Clearly, typical vampires knew about this dark practice in their past; so here was one more thing her parents hadn’t taught her.
Leslie sipped from her glass and imagined herself so driven by thirst that she would threaten to drink this very sustenance from the vein of a helpless human. She imagined not merely enjoying the taste and the energy but craving it, controlled by the need for it.
The idea was terrifying.
“So…if Tai has never actually threatened anybody…he can live here. In a city surrounded by humans.”
“He has contingency plans with their own contingency plans. I don’t think for a minute that he’ll ever hurt anybody.”
She shook her head. “I can’t reconcile it in my head—all of this with the man I met this morning. He was so calm, Ryker. Not a mask of calm but the real thing.”
“No, that was real. He had a good time with us.”
“I felt that.”
Ryker nodded. “On the other hand, his self-control is…intense. Mentally, he’s the strongest person I’ve ever met in my life.”
“And this is what he wanted you to tell me—so I wouldn’t worry about this when we get together?”
“More or less. He’d glare at me for painting him in a good light, but whatever. He’s not here to accuse himself.” Ryker’s shrug came with a mischievous smirk and a thoughtful crinkle between his eyes. She loved the combined expressions that were so uniquely her vampire. Her match.
Her match.
Fingers twined. Not tattooed yet, though they would be. A glass spilled, an unmistakable red stain on a lace tablecloth. Laughter.
“Leslie?”
She blinked. “Here. Just saw…”
“The future?” His eyes sparked with invitation, with a reminder of how they’d behaved behind this partition last night.
“Very briefly. Somebody tipped a glass over, and we laughed about it.”
“That’s all?” But rather than disappointment, he looked fascinated.
“This time, yeah. And we’ve sidetracked from our purpose long enough, Mr. I-Don’t-Evade-Anything-Ever.”
The crinkle formed between his eyes again, less mischief now, more uncertainty. She wanted to hug him.
“Does it feel unsafe to tell me?” she said, instinct hushing her tone despite their soundproof environment.
“No. I’m just a coward, I guess. Talking about it’s going to suck.”
She couldn’t stand the dread in his eyes, dulling their blue toward charcoal. In a discreet, fluid motion she vaulted the table and landed beside him. She tugged his hand into her lap and held it between both of hers.
“Better?”
“A little,” he said. “Thanks.”
“I’m here.”
“I know. Um…to summarize…Jacqueline cheated the whole time we were together. Her favorite game is getting someone to trust her so she can betray them. I shouldn’t still care about the things she said when we broke up. I don’t most of the time. But then sometimes something pokes at me and…and it still…um, it still almost kind of…hurts a little.”
He was statue-still, and his eyes had gone charcoal gray. Leslie wrapped her arms around him, and he leaned into her, rested his chin on top of her head.
“Can you tell me?” she said.
“I just did.”
“Can you tell me what she said to you?”
“Oh.” He was quiet a long time. At last, barbs snagging the velvet of his voice, he said, “If I didn’t want her to cheat, I shouldn’t be so devoted to my job. If I didn’t want her to cheat, I shouldn’t be so boring. She needed someone interesting. She needed someone worth being faithful to. I’m…I’m a useless coward who plays dead for attention.”
“Oh, Ryker.” Leslie cupped her hand around the back of his neck when he gave a shudder of pure emotion. “She isn’t only a cheater. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know. She’s a liar too.”
“Well, yeah, but that’s not all. She’s an abuser, Ryker.”
He flinched. “Nah.”
“Yes, she is. Verbally and emotionally abusive. Women can be too, you know.”
After a long minute, he lifted his head. “I don’t like to think of it that way.”
“Of course not. Our stupid culture says men have to be the toughest all the freaking time.”
He gave a broken laugh against her hair, and she tightened her arms as though that could be enough to show him the truth of how valuable he was.
“Now you listen to me,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.” That was a grin. Good.
“Ryker Maddox, you are a stellar boyfriend. You see me, you hear me, you care about my art and my family and my little town because they’re me and what matters to me, matters to you. I love your devotion to your job, your intelligence at solving convoluted money crimes and getting justice for victims. You have never made me feel second-place because of the work you do, not once.”
He heaved a hard breath as she held him. Leslie held on and kept going. More to say. Things he had to hear from her and no one else.
“You’ve also never been boring a day in your life. In fact I’d be fine with it if you were the tiniest bit boring, but that’s not who you are. You’re a math wizard, a sparring expert, an outgoing risk-taker willing to hop on a plane to meet a woman who might have told you to get out of her town.”
Now the slightest chuckle shook his frame. That was good too. Leslie leaned back and took his dear face between her hands.
“Last but not least,” she said. “Your fear is real. It’s out of your control. It doesn’t make you a coward. It’s just a crummy thing you have to deal with, the same as all of us deal with crummy things in life. You’re a strong, smart, gorgeous vampire and I’m madly in love with you because of you .”
Silver tears sparkled unshed in his eyes. Leslie cupped his neck again, brought his face down to hers, and kissed him. She kept her lips soft and gentle, kept her fingers gentle as they pushed up from his neck into his hair. When they drew back from the kiss, Ryker’s eyes were wholly blue again and dancing with silver. His tears were gone.
“There,” she said. “I hope you can keep her garbage out of your head from now on.”
“I hope so too,” he whispered. “I think maybe I can.”
“And if she ever has the misfortune to run into me, I will fight her.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Not necessary.”
“If I had an ex that called me the things she called you—?”
Ryker hissed.
“Exactly. And you said she’s in town, so I might get a chance.”
His mouth formed a taut grimace as he studied her. “Leslie, I…I don’t want to, but I think I should tell you.”
“Then you should.”
“Jacqueline has been following you on social media since I mentioned you years ago.”
Whoa. “Okay, consider her blocked. Does she use her real name?”
“Usually, yeah. She’s probably got more than one handle following you. But that’s not all.” He blinked, but his eyes remained charcoal-gray. “Jacqueline’s a brunette, and I’ve never known her to dye her hair before. But right now… The dye job she got is closer to white than silver. But she called it silver.”
“She copied my hair.” That was…creepy. And weird. And creepy. “Let’s see how many versions of her are following me.”
“Look for Jacqueline Hargrave first. Then try Hargrave Money or Vamp CFO.”
Across Leslie’s social platforms, Jacqueline Hargrave had followed her three times, and Vamp CFO had followed her twice. Hargrave Money showed up only once. She blocked every last account, then put her phone away with a hum of satisfaction.
Ryker, on the other hand, was grimacing though his eyes were finally blue again.
“What?” Leslie said. “Yeah, she’ll figure it out, but the worst she can do is create another profile, and now I’m on the lookout for her.”
“It’s not that. Leslie, when I told her to get off my property, she left. It felt almost…” He shook his head.
“Too easy?”
“Yeah. It’s been more than twenty-four hours. I mean, yes, this is a moderately big city. But she knows my favorite places. She should have run into us by now if she’s been trying to.”
“Maybe she’s not.”
“She said she was going to track you down and let you know…why I’m crap.”
“I hope she does.”
Again he hissed, but his eyes began to dance.
Leslie angled her face up to his, and their kiss filled her with icy pleasure and certainty. She pressed her fingers tight to his back and murmured against his mouth, her voice at its fullest texture. “This is us.”
Ryker’s mouth hardened on hers. He pulled her closer to him in the near-privacy of their booth, and if someone happened to walk past and glimpse them through the glass…well, whatever. But then he pulled back. He pushed his fingers into her hair at her temples. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Us. You and me.”
She rested against him, and his heart give a single gentle beat. Her own heart beat a soft answer. Ring tattoos. Two homes. City adventures and country comfort. She felt it all from the deepest core of her being. This was who they were and would be. This was their beautiful future.
“Centuries together. That’s what we’re going to have, Ryker.”
“I believe it,” he said.
She pressed her palm to the heartbeat that was dearest to her in all the world. After a few more minutes, she felt sure he was okay. He seemed somehow lighter.
“So,” Leslie said as they finished their drinks, “I want to say for the record, if you ever need to talk through this again, you can. I’m here to listen. Okay?”
Ryker nodded. “Not today, though. Today I want us to…to get back to where we were before.”
“Before she so rudely interrupted? Let’s see. We were climbing the rock wall and enjoying ourselves and talking about…” Leslie walked herself back through the conversation directly before Ryker had remembered his dream. “Hey, you had a question to ask me.”
“I did?” His forehead crinkled, then smoothed into a slightly too blank expression. “Oh, that. Never mind.”
“What? Why? Go ahead and ask me.”
For a long moment, he didn’t. Then he said, “Have you ever seen your parents’ birth certificates?”