Chapter Ten #2
Meanwhile, forward gear entered the chat for about thirty feet, and all the while, in the glow of the dashboard, the humans were yelling at each other again.
This time Not Charlie got the reversing right.
The truck sucked back into the trees like a grappling hook had been latched on to whatever was left of the rear bumper.
“Idiots,” she hissed. “They need to turn the running lights off.”
Overhead, the helicopter made an instant recalibration, locking in on the vehicle’s swiveling, madcap retreat and following.
As the sounds and chaos dimmed, the ringing silence in the forest was broken only by branches and boughs of the tree that had been hit falling to the ground.
Allhan refocused on the female, and decided he could happily spend the rest of his miserable life being under her.
She looked back down at him.
The moment lasted a heartbeat. Or maybe it was twelve centuries—
With a curse, she flipped herself up off him, and as she landed on both feet like a cat, he thought about the way she’d sprung forward, so sure of where every molecule in her body was, so confident in how she moved.
The athleticism was something to envy. Before his transition, he had been all twigs and matchsticks. Now he was a bag of bolts.
Not much improvement.
Dusting herself off, she walked over to the ruined pine tree and flubbed her parka’s hood to get the load of snow that had collected in it away from the back of her neck.
“Goddamn it,” she spat as she glared at the broken branches and the scar in the trunk.
Allhan sat up and went to cross his legs under his seat, a position that had always been his go-to. Not happening. For one, his thighs had muscle now. For another, the arousal that was knocking on the front door of his jeans got pinched so badly, he had to lock his teeth.
As she went over to the dead guy, he grimaced and shoved things around as best he could without jamming a hand into his pants. When he got nowhere, he decided vertical was the better plan.
Maybe his junk would settle back into place on its own.
With a grunt, he managed to get his feet under him, and he was still shocked at how far up he went as he straightened himself to his full height.
His theory about a spontaneous repositioning of his erection courtesy of the vertical proved a no-go and he turned away to give her his back.
Jamming his hand into his waistband, he sucked in a shocked breath.
He hadn’t expected the shaft of pleasure that went through him as he shoved and yanked.
So this was why people jerked off, he thought as he turned around again.
“I really loved that truck,” she said with a kind of defeat.
“I can help find you another one. There are all kinds of government seizure websites I can search where you can get vehicles for wholesale or under. Of course, you have more control over options if you order one from a dealership, but everybody wants to save money, right? And things can be complicated for the likes of us.” He stopped and held up his forefinger.
“Although you would have to check to make sure no one smoked in it. We could also do the Manheim auctions? They’re for dealers only, but they have disclosures about the interiors.
All I have to do is forge a dealership license and we can—”
“You never stop talking. Do you.”
Allhan blinked like the dumb fuck he was. “Oh, that’s not true. Honestly.” Then he frowned. “You know what… I don’t stutter around you.”
“Why am I the lucky one,” she muttered as she went over and knelt down by the corpse.
“I don’t know. Probably because my brain shorts whenever I…”
As he stopped babbling, the female rifled through the suit jacket, pulling out a wallet and a cell phone.
“Whenever you what.” Her eyes returned to Allhan. “Hello?”
“Whenever I look at you. My brain shorts out whenever I look at you. And that seems to kill the stutter.”
The female stilled. Then she shook her head. “I’m nothing special.”
As she surged back to her feet, he knew she was getting ready to dematerialize into the night.
“My name is Allhan. Did I tell you that?”
“I don’t want to know your name.”
“Well, I’m volunteering it.”
“And I don’t want your number.”
The perma-pit in his stomach, that hollow feeling he’d been living with for what felt like his entire life, doubled in size. Except then he reminded himself that they’d met over a corpse. This wasn’t a blind date that hadn’t worked out when she realized he was socially awkward and family-less.
And maybe kissed like a goldfish out of water.
Not that he would know.
Well aware their time was running out, he stuck his hand forward. “Nice to meet you…?”
The female came over and left the obvious opening hanging. “What are you doing in these woods?”
“Just out for a walk.”
Her eyes searched his face and he was pretty aware of what she saw in terms of features. Okay, sort of aware, given he was still getting used to what he looked like. And God, he really hoped she didn’t think he was ugly.
“Go home,” she said after a moment. “You don’t belong here.”
“Can I at least know your name?” He put up both palms. “Please. I won’t bother you, I promise.”
“There’s no reason you need to know it. We’re never seeing each other again.”
“I have a reason.”
“Why.”
He shrugged. “At least I’ll know who’s keeping me up all day.”
The wind came around, bringing her scent to his nose. As he breathed in deep, he wanted to say something that made her stay.
That was what was going through his mind as she disappeared right in front of him.
In the aftermath of the departure, Allhan stayed where he was for a while because he was soul-crushed for no good reason. Then he focused on the dead guy, and wanted to know the story behind it all. Not that he cared about the human, of course.
He wanted to know everything—hell, anything—about the female who’d just left.
As sirens flared in the distance, he glanced to the sound and saw a line of cop cars streaming down the highway like bees flushed from a nest. They were obviously going to make it out here, sooner rather than later.
Before Allhan dematerialized himself, he walked over to the body and took hold of the white plastic handle of the knife that stuck out of the man’s gut. Pausing, he had a romantic notion that her palm had gripped right where his was.
“Wow. Th-that’s macabre.”
Whatever, the best thing about internal thoughts was that nobody else knew them.
With a jerk, he pulled out the blade. If there was one thing he’d learned, you had to clean up after yourself. Very important. Sure, vampires left no fingerprints, but the Caldwell Police Department was a crafty bunch.
And things could be traced back to places that should just as well be left alone.
As he, too, left the scene, he was buoyed a little by the idea that he was taking care of her.
Even though she’d never know.