Chapter 11
That night we met, after our brief encounter in the hallway, I dreaded returning to our respective tables in the bar.
Ricardo had sat there with his smug ass grin, eager to smell the fresh blood leaking through my pores.
He wasn’t excited to see me, just the blood.
A gorgeous woman with raven-black hair and striking neon-blue eyes had sat next to Harkin.
That hadn’t been the worst of it. She cooed at him, calling him Harkin, asking him where he’d been all that time.
I’d carved his name into my skull that instant because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear it again.
Returning to my vampire boyfriend for the night had been about as painful as tearing my own fangs from my skull. Watching Harkin with a woman who was clearly not a one-night-stand felt like a stake through the heart. He was a wolf. How had he made my blood purr?
That was what I had been thinking about before a random shifter decided I was a fleshy lollipop.
The wolf shifter had been so quick about it, with only a passing breeze before he sat on the stool next to me.
Quick and deliberate, it felt more like a St. Bernard’s lick, unlike what I imagined a wolf’s tongue.
I’d pushed away from the bar, knocking my stool over, the rotating fan above me cooling the spit still covering my shoulder.
I unsheathed my fangs, hissing at the wolf. If he were ashamed that he had duped to such a low level, he didn’t seem to show it. Red eyes stared at me, his spiky blonde hair as angular as his teeth. He licked his lips, as if he savored what remained of my taste.
“Wolf,” Harkin roared, storming in front of me. His claws were out, fur growing on the back of his neck and threading through his beard.
Sure, I could protect myself, but something told me to let Harky handle this one, given we weren’t in his territory. Should one of them get the upper hand, Harkin’s alpha voice wouldn’t work here.
One of the pack leaders, a man with an auburn crew cut and pale, freckled skin, patted Harkin on the shoulder. “As promised, I’ll handle this. Take your vampire back to your wolves.”
“But Alpha, can’t you smell her?” The licker asked, flicking his tongue in the air.
Harkin snarled, and the pack leader’s grip clenched on him. “Let me take care of my pack. Leave Harkin.”
Harkin’s chest puffed several times before he thrust his hand out for me to take. “Come on, Aurora.”
I took his hand, scratching my fingernail against his callused palm, and let him lead me out the front door. Before completely exiting, however, I tossed the licker my middle finger. His alpha caught it and gave me a wry smile.
Harkin prowled toward his bike, Phelan slamming through the doors and hurrying to catch up with us.
Harkin wanted to mount and peel tires out of the parking lot immediately, but I tugged on his hand.
The wolf snapped a growl at me over his shoulder, but sobered when he saw my face. “What do I smell like to you?”
Phelan coughed and uncomfortably rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll meet you there, boss.”
We all but ignored Phelan as he got on his bike and rode off.
“Don’t think you wanna know.” He rubbed the back of his hand over his upper lip.
Harkin’s scent was like home after a long day, a place you wanted to settle into, safe and uplifting. It had only grown stronger the more time we spent together. I was steadily growing addicted to it.
“Oh, my—” Lifting one of my arms, I smelled my pit. “Do I stink to you?”
Harkin let his head drop and slid a hand through his hair. “Fuck, no. Not at all.”
“Then what do I smell like? Just tell me.”
The wolf cracked his neck to one side. “It’s hard to describe. Like all things that are relaxin’, calming, like—” He captured my eyes with his. “Serenity.”
My core clenched and a swell of flutters burst in my stomach. “Oh,” I whispered. “Do you think that’s what the other shifters smell?”
Harkin threw his leg over the bike. “No, probably smell your arousal.”
I’d been in mid-leg swing, my hand balancing on Harkin’s shoulder. I choked on my spit. “Excuse me?”
“You can want somebody without havin’ a lick of fondness for ‘em, vamp. Happens all the time.” The wolf threw me a confident, “you think I’m hot and I know it” expression that had me swatting him.
Our situation had many bizarre aspects. My attraction to him rose because I did like him. He wasn’t like the other wolves. Never had been.
“How long have you known?” I settled in behind him. My eyes fluttered shut. The scent on his neck smelled much stronger. Like safety. Protection I knew I didn’t need, but somehow savored at the same time.
Why does he smell this damn good?
“Since you saw a muscular handyman fixin’ your tap with his back turned.” Harkin roared the bike to life, stealing any opposing words I might have tried to say.
Once we were back at his place, Waffles was so excited he’d done the four-legged splits several times, bouncing between both me and Harkin for loving pets. Damn his stupid alpha voice.
“Shit, you’re probably hungry, aren’t you?” Harkin asked.
Rummaging through the duffel bag I had packed, I yanked out the blood bags. “I came prepared. Figured Plena Falls didn’t have vampire stores.”
“That we do not.” He gave me one of those gooey smiles that made a small dimple form in the apple of his left cheek. “Good thinkin’.” Harkin opened the fridge door and stepped aside.
After putting them away, I removed the plug from one bag and brought it to my lips. “I’m exhausted. Did you want to show me where this cellar is?”
Harkin zipped his spine straight. “You fixin’ to hit the floor on me or something? You seemed to zonk out last time.”
The concern written all over his face had me swiveling my hips as I sucked blood directly from the bag. “It’s not always like that. Sometimes I get to watch TV before I crash.” My eyelids grew heavier.
Harkin rubbed the back of his neck, his elbow pointing at the ceiling. “There’s been a lot goin’ on, hm?”
As I finished the bag, I sucked all I could from it until that empty sloshing sound. “Yeah, but it hasn’t been all that bad.”
Shit. I needed to get to sleep. I was two minutes away from confessing things I wasn’t ready to say to the wolf.
“Let me, uh—” Harkin turned and then, as if suddenly lost in his own place, switched directions. “Let me haul my mattress on down there.”
“Your mattress?”
He paused in the hallway. “Only got the one bed and I sure as hells ain’t making you sleep on the concrete.”
“Where are you going to sleep?” I asked, remaining in the kitchen as rustling sounds and grunting flowed from his bedroom.
Harkin re-appeared, dragging a massive mattress behind him. “Said you weren’t sleepin’ on the concrete.”
“Oh, come on, Harkin. Twelve of me could fit on that mattress. Just sleep on it. There will be a Texas-wide gap between us.”
“Well—” A wisp of hair fell over Harkin’s gaze, and he tossed it back. “I reckon my back would be mighty grateful.”
I yawned. “Then lug away, wolf.”
Waffles trotted over, barking at me to pick him up. While Harkin disappeared down a flight of wooden steps, I cuddled with my zombie pug, fighting back the sun’s lull.
The wolf returned, dusting his hands off. “Does the dog always stay upstairs?”
I let out a tired little chuckle. “Ironically, he’s claustrophobic.”
“That is ironic for an undying dog.” Harkin took Waffles from me and set him on the couch, tossing the two throw pillows he had for him to knead as he wished.
The sun was minutes away from rising. I only had one blood bag, and between shifters smelling and licking me and the rising feelings toward Harkin, I was about to zonk out.
“Harkin,” I leaned on the doorway, my vision going blurry.
“Shit,” he said, the sound of his boots clomping as he hurried toward me, perking me up enough to make it down the stairs with his arm around my waist.
Once we reached the cellar and he secured the door, things turned foggy after that.
I crawled over Harkin’s enormous bed to one end of it, smashing my face into the pillows.
They were absolutely filthy with his scent.
I may have even moaned. Gods, I hoped not.
Someone tugged my boots off. It wasn’t me, so unless it was a wraith, it was Harkin.
I snuggled under the covers, pulling them to my nose to inhale more of him.
“Harkin,” I whispered, or did I call him Harky?
“Yeah?” his deep baritone southern voice replied.
Using the covers to disguise my smile, I said, “You’re actually pretty sweet.”
And zonked right the fuck out.