Carter hung up on him. Then he spun the truck around as he raced back toward the motel. Gravel flew in his wake.
Chapter Three
Werewolf Rules To Live (or Die) By…
Rule Three: A werewolf should never, ever drink a vamp’s blood. There’s power in the blood…and addiction.
The blood was gone. And her wounds had healed. Lauren swiped her hand across the bathroom mirror, clearing the surface of fog so that she could get a better look at her reflection.
Her reflection. That had been one of her fears when she woke as a vampire—that she wouldn’t be able to see her reflection ever again. She’d heard that legend before, but, luckily, it turned out to be wrong.
She did need blood to survive. The sunlight made her weak—it could even burn her. Kill her. Her heart still beat in her chest. Her body was warm, not cold like death. And inside, she still felt the same. She still had all the same hopes and dreams. She just had a brand new set of fears. Most of those fears centered around Antoine Abandonato.
The towel she’d looped around her body started to slip, so she adjusted the material, tucking it in between her breasts. Steam drifted lazily in the air around her as her toes curled against the tiled floor of the bathroom. She’d probably stayed in the shower way too long, but she’d wanted to be clean. When she’d taken off her clothing, her skin had been stained red with her blood. Her blood…and probably some blood from the Dealer’s guard, too. Lauren had scrubbed and scrubbed to get clean.
The sound of an approaching engine reached her ears, and Lauren hurried out of the bathroom. The motel room was dead silent. She hadn’t turned on the TV. She’d barely touched anything outside of the bathroom.
A car door slammed. Footsteps rushed toward her room. She put her hand to the door as her heart raced. There was no peephole on the thin, wooden door. No front windows for the room, either, so she couldn’t see the person rushing toward her.
“Lauren.” His voice wasn’t loud, definitely not booming. It was quiet and reassuring, and it cut right through her fear.
Carter was back.
She fumbled with the lock and yanked open the door. A broad smile covered her face when she saw him. Part of her had been afraid that he wasn’t coming back. That she was going to be in this mess by herself. Her own personal nightmare—continuing.
But…he was back.
She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. Lauren legitimately could not remember ever being so happy to see a person in her entire life.
He stiffened against her, then Carter gave a low, rough laugh. “Damn, sweetness, I was only gone for thirty minutes.” A bit awkwardly, his arms rose and curled around her body. “I’ve got to wonder how you greet someone who has been gone for a whole day.”
She squeezed him tighter. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“What?”
Let go of him. Ease up. Lauren stepped back. “I didn’t think—”
Her towel started to fall.
They both reached for it at the same time. His fingers tangled with hers and shoved the soft cotton back against her chest. The words she was saying got stuck in her throat because she’d just pretty much lost herself looking into his eyes.
“You’re only wearing a towel.”
His cheeks had reddened. His gaze was on her towel. On their tangled hands.
“I didn’t have other clothes, remember? You were getting them for me.” Her attention shifted to his left hand. The hand that was currently not touching her. The hand that was holding a brown bag. Clothes?
He growled. It was a rough, animalistic sound, and she totally loved it for some reason.
So she had a few issues—Lauren knew it.
“Do not let that towel drop,” he warned her.
She had to laugh at that order. She’d been a showgirl. In that business, you had to learn to lose your modesty fast. Back stage, the girls changed costumes dozens of times, and those costumes were damn heavy. Half the time, the other ladies had been running around naked as they frantically looked for shoes or feathers or sequins to—
“Do not let it drop.”
She could do more than let it drop. She could do a whole dance routine with the thing if she wanted. “I had no idea you were so hung up on nudity.”
“We’re in a motel doorway.” He stepped closer to her, shielding her with his body. “Anyone can see you right now.”
Her brows rose. “No one else can see me. Literally, no one. You’re the only person here. The parking lot behind you is empty.”
“Get inside.”
The guy’s hang-up on nudity was kind of cute. “Never would have taken you for a prude.” She tapped his chin with her fingertips, then spun away from him. For his sake, she kept her towel in place.
“Prude?” It sounded as if he were choking on the word.
But it also sounded as if he’d followed her inside the little room.
The door shut behind him. The lock clicked into place.
She rolled her shoulders and turned to face him. Lauren lifted her hand toward him, reaching for the bag.
He kept it just out of her reach. His eyes had narrowed. A faint line appeared between his brows. “Did you seriously call me a prude?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I did. Now give me the clothes.”
He gave her the clothes. The frowny line was still between his brows. She headed for the bathroom.
“I wanted you to keep the towel on…” His rough words followed her. “So I’d be able to keep my hands off you.”
She stopped, freezing next to the bathroom door. Her hand clenched around the top of the bag. “But…I’m a vampire.” A freak. A fanged freak who drinks blood.
“Yeah, I noticed. Hard to miss when you’re taking a bite of me.”
Her cheeks burned.
“But you’re also the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. You’ve got legs for fucking miles, curves that don’t stop, and a voice that instantly makes me think of having you beneath me—or on top of me—in the nearest bed.”
She whirled around. The bed—it was very, very near. Like right behind him near. She dropped the bag and hurried toward him. The towel was still in place, for the moment. As she approached him, the gold seemed to spread in his dark eyes. He lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and waited for her.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I know that was way out of line. I’ll keep my hands to myself, don’t worry.”
She put her hands on his shoulders. On his big, broad shoulders. She was tall, but he was taller, and Lauren had to lift up onto her tip toes to get in the position she wanted. She stared into his eyes. She stared and stared.
“Uh, sweetness? What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to see if you’re lying to me.” Yes, the bite could be…sexual. He’d sure seemed to enjoy it, but that was part of the vamp’s thrall. To her shame, she’d enjoyed Antoine’s bite. She’d even been enjoying it when the bastard killed her. But she wasn’t biting Carter right then. So he wouldn’t be feeling the sexual draw of the bite. He would just be reacting to her.
“Why would I lie? You’ve got a mirror. You know what you look like.”
“I know I grow razor-sharp fangs. I know that I died. And you’re expecting me to believe that a man like you really wants me? You want a monster?”
His gaze cut away from her. “You’re not a monster. I’ve seen plenty of monsters in my time. You’re a woman who had the bad luck to fall for the wrong guy.”
Her heart hurt at his words. She backed away from Carter, as if he’d just burned her. And it truly seemed as if his words had burned straight to her soul. “Is that the story you heard? That—that Isabella woman who hired you, is that what she thinks? That I fell in love with a vampire and willingly became his—oh, jeez, I don’t even know what I am—some kind of vamp bride?”
He peered at her, his gaze unblinking. Maybe it was her imagination, but his face seemed harder, sharper. His eyes almost seemed to glow. And…were
his teeth getting sharper? Surely not.
He’d shoved his hands behind his back.
“Are you his bride?” Carter’s words were grim. “Because Antoine Abandonato sure seems to think that you’re his.”
She took another step away from him. “Do you…know Antoine?”
“There are plenty of stories about him.” If possible, his face became even harder. His voice was low and mean as Carter continued, “He’s been around for centuries. A born vampire, not one who was made. And the guy loves the bloodlust. No one can even be sure of just how many people he’s killed over the years because the number is too high.”
She whirled and ran for the bathroom.
He caught her and jerked her back against his chest, his arms circling her stomach. “Don’t like to hear what your lover has done?”
“I’m going to be sick,” she whispered. “Please…let me go.”
He immediately eased his hold, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he guided her into the bathroom. He yanked on the handle of the cold water and grabbed her a cloth. Before she could stop him, he’d wet that cloth and started carefully smoothing it over her face. “Just take some breaths, sweetness. It’s okay.”
She was taking breaths. And she was seeing Antoine killing people over and over in her mind. “Is that what I’m going to become?”
He pressed the cloth to her cheek. They stood facing each other. She was trapped between his body and the bathroom sink.
She grabbed his wrist. “Am I going to be like him? Is that what Isabella fears? Is that the reason she sent you after me? Because she thinks I’m going to turn into a killing machine like Antoine?”
The water dripped from the side of the cloth, sliding down to fall against her shoulder, then her chest. Carter’s body was pressed tightly against hers, they were crowded so closely together in that tiny bathroom.
He didn’t answer her.
“It’s what I fear,” Lauren whispered. She took the cloth from him and dropped it into the sink. “And it’s what makes me so sick inside that I can barely breathe.”
She turned away from him and stared at their reflections. He was so big and strong and tough. And she—
What am I?
“Is that why you ran from him?” Carter asked her.
She swallowed. In the mirror, her gaze met his. “I ran from him because…the man I’d been dating…the man who swept me off my feet, who told me that he loved me, who told me that he’d never hurt me, he killed me. He drove his teeth into my throat, he drained my blood, and I couldn’t even fight him. I could only lie there, the cold sweeping over my body, and wait to die. I remember, he cut his wrist and shoved it to my mouth. He yelled at me to swallow, but I-I don’t think I could.”
“You must have.” The words were flat. “You needed his blood for the transformation.”
She felt so cold. “Antoine didn’t think I was going to come back. The last thing—the last thing he said to me…” She couldn’t go on. Those words hurt.
“What did he say?”
She licked her lips. Straightened her spine. “He said, ‘It’s a pity you won’t ever wake up again. We would’ve had a fucking good time killing together.’” She laughed, and the sound was bitter. “My prince charming. He murdered me, and you ask why I ran?”
She would keep running from Antoine, forever. Because she could not go back to him and become just like him. A fucking good time killing together…
Suddenly, it was too much. The space in that bathroom was too small. Carter was too close. She had to get away from him. She stumbled away, staggering over the threshold and hurrying toward the bed. No real escape plan was in Lauren’s head. She just needed to move.
“Most humans don’t wake up.”
The towel was slipping. She fumbled and managed to keep it in place. She didn’t turn to look at him.
“The books and the movies always make it seem as if humans can easily be changed into vampires. But that’s not the case. Most humans die. Even when the vampires give them a blood exchange, they still die.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
“That’s how I knew about you. How pretty much every vamp will know. Word travels fast when a new vampire is created. You’re a hot commodity. The others will want to know why you changed, how you changed when others didn’t. They’ll want to study you. Want to learn every secret.”
“I don’t have any secrets.”
His gaze swept over her face. Was he trying to see if she was lying?
“Is…is that why Isabella really wants me? To study me?”
Carter looked away from her. “Vampires are dangerous. They are deadly predators. No matter how pretty the face is, you can never forget that.”
She stiffened. “I didn’t know. I had no idea what Antoine was! I didn’t think vampires were real. I didn’t think I had to worry about my date biting me.”
Carter was staring at the door. His eyes had narrowed. The way he was looking at that door—the guy was acting as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
Lauren cleared her throat. “I didn’t know Antoine was a vampire. Not until the night he killed me.”
His head snapped back toward her.
“He kept secrets from me.” Her lips pressed together as she faced Carter fully. “I don’t like secrets.”
Carter swore. Then he was stalking toward her. She couldn’t retreat anywhere because the bed was right behind her. And big, bad Carter the hunter was in front of her.
“You have secrets,” she whispered when he was just inches away. “You think I don’t realize that?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw.
“Will those secrets hurt me?”
His hand lifted and sank into the thickness of her hair. He tipped her head back. “I did not fucking count on you.”
She had no idea what those angry words were supposed to mean. And she didn’t get a chance to question him on them, either, because suddenly his mouth was on hers.
It was a rough kiss. Wild. Hot. The kind of kiss lovers exchange after they’ve been together for a long time. The kind of kiss that makes you rip off your partner’s clothes and have sex against the nearest wall.
It wasn’t the type of kiss that was a first kiss.
Yet for them, it was.
His lips were hard, demanding, and her mouth opened for him. His tongue swept past her lips and he tasted her, as if he’d been dying to have her mouth beneath his. His body pressed to hers, and his cock was heavy with arousal.
She should pull away.
But…
His desire for me is real. She might be a vampire, but he still wanted her. Her hands rose and curled around his shoulders. Her nails dug into his shirt as she held him tight. She met the hunger of his kiss with her own need. A need that had ignited inside of her, surprising her with its force.
She’d never been kissed with such hunger. Never felt such a vicious need for someone, not so fast. But she did…with him.
She wanted to get closer to him. Wanted her body to be flush against his. She wanted—
Her towel fell. It slid down her body, slipping to the floor.
They both stilled.
Then, slowly, his mouth lifted from hers. First, he stared into her eyes, and his dark gaze was lit with a golden fire. Burning with white-hot desire. His gaze slowly slid down her body. His jaw clenched. He growled.
Her nipples were tight, aching, and thrusting right toward him. She could bend down and grab the towel. That was an option.
Or she could see what would happen next.
“You are…” Carter stopped, cleared his throat, and his words came out only a little less growl-like as he continued, “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She smiled at him. His eyes were back on her face, and when she smiled, he swore.
“Carter?”
“I think you’re going to drive me fucking insane,” he rasped, “but, sweetness, what a hell of a way to go.” His mouth took
hers again. Her sensitive breasts pressed into his t-shirt as he held her tightly. His leg slid between hers and he eased her back toward the bed. The moment was intense, passionate. It was—
Bam!
It took a moment for the thunder of that particular sound to register in her ears.
And then…
Bam, bam! The sharp thunder came again.
Carter curled his body around hers. Something hot burned right into her shoulder, and she screamed.
Bam!
Carter shuddered against her. “I’ve…got you.”
He had her, but…he was falling. They both tumbled to the floor, falling in a heap near the bed, and she realized what those terrible blasts had been—gunfire.
Because Carter was bleeding. Carter had been shot. His blood soaked his clothes, his blood soaked her, and he was struggling to cover her with his body. He was trying to protect her.
“No!” She pushed him back, barely feeling the pain in her shoulder now. She’d been shot, too. That was what the burn had been. She actually thought the bullet was still in her, but…
Carter. He was hurt so much worse. There was blood all over him.
“S-silver…” Carter managed, his voice thick and rough. “Should have…realized…witch would f-figure m-me out…”
Another blast sounded. Her head whipped up. The motel room door was littered with bullet holes. Whoever was outside—that person was still firing.
“R-run,” Carter ordered her, his hand curling around her arm. “Jump out…window… back m-motel…”
“I’m not leaving you.” He hadn’t left her in the alley, and she wasn’t going to leave him in that bullet-filled motel room.
“Silver…”
Okay, why did he keep saying that? She put her hands on his wounds—some of them, anyway. Just how many times had he been shot? “You are losing so much blood.” And her fangs were fully out because of that fact. It was an instinctive thing for her. When she smelled blood, her fangs stretched.
“Go.”
The hell she would. The gunfire had stopped, for the moment anyway, and she had to think. “I’m not leaving you.”