“You’re so warm,” he said, barely audibly.
Garret felt like a stone statue, but not. He was cold and strong, but his torso moved with his shallow breaths, and his skin was soft above the curves of his muscles. Dawn would never get tired of this. She ran her nail lightly over the top of the waist of his jeans and bit her bottom lip to hide her smile at his reaction. His steady breath quickened to a pant, and his grip on her neck tightened just slightly. Oh he could snap her neck with no effort, but he wouldn’t. She trusted him with everything in her. He’d built that trust slowly with being gentle when he fed, and caring when he spoke to her.
“You’re hungry,” she whispered.
He dipped his chin, his onyx eyes troubled. “Don’t want to eat until I know you are okay.”
Dawn slid one hand around his back and along the length of his longest scar. “I feel fine, and I don’t want you hungry while we’re on our date.” She ran the pad of her thumb across his cheek. “I miss the green in your eyes.”
Garret caught her wrist. “You mean you miss the human in my eyes.”
There was pain in his voice, so she hugged him tight, up on her tiptoes so she could rest her chin on his strong shoulder. “No, I mean I miss the color that tells me you are okay and happy. The black says you’re uncomfortable, and I can’t go the entire night looking at you, thinking I could make this better for you.”
“I hear a heartbeat in your house,” he said low, so close to her ear his lips brushed her sensitive lobe and just about buckled her knees.
“My mom’s home.”
“I want to meet her, but not like this.”
Mom’s approval meant a lot to her. Dawn had no doubt she would adore Garret, but maybe not with demon-black eyes and a mega-boner the first time they met.
She could drag his sexy ass to the rickety old treehouse out back, but it probably wouldn’t hold their weight, especially if they were humping…and she definitely planned on humping. They could do it in the back seat of his car, but then she remembered he flew here like the badass vampire he was. Her car was definitely too small to do anything fun in the back seat unless they somehow shrunk themselves to the size of fairies.
“You’re pouting,” Garret said in an amused tone as he brushed his thumb over her lip.
Indeed, she was. Because diddle-time was not imminent, and her hormones were buzzing like a pissed-off beehive.
“I’m hungry,” she muttered. For a naked party.
“Well, come on then. I’ll be fine tonight. I have plans, and we’re going to be late.”
“Plans?” she asked hopefully as he led her by the hand down the porch stairs.
Movement in the shadows caught her attention. Shane and Evan stepped out from the woods with somber looks on their faces. Shane was third in the coven and had always been nice to her, while Evan, the sandy-haired muscle man was the strong silent type. She hadn’t even realized they were there until now.
Garret lifted his chin in a mannish greeting, and Dawn wiggled her fingers in a wave. She withdrew her keys from her purse but then hesitated. Three giant vampires plus her in the car was going to be a tight squeeze, and she wasn’t exactly excited about doing a double date with two straight dudes, but okay. If Garret thought that was safest, she trusted his judgement.
She hit the unlock button, and her car beeped once, but Garret turned suddenly and lifted her off the ground, spun her around so fast her heart went into her clenched butt-cheeks. The screech of bats filled the air. Dawn screamed as purple smoke engulfed her, but after a breathtaking second that felt like going straight down on a roller coaster, the smoke cleared and the bats thinned as they flew this way and that. Garret was gone, but she could still feel his grasp. When she could see through the chaos, Mom’s house was far below, nestled in trees that looked like little Legos.
She was flying.
Dawn fought the urge to scream again. Garret had her. His strong grip was steady, and the flight was smooth despite the furious flapping of bats all around her. Her breath was stolen the second she saw the lights of Winterset below them. It was a small town, but was so beautiful from way up here. And then they were plummeting toward Jefferson Street. Her stomach rocketed into her throat with their speed, and she yelped as they neared the ground, but she didn’t hit like she’d expected. Instead, she simply stopped moving and Garret’s form appeared around her, ghostlike at first, but solidifying as the bats and smoke disappeared into him.
He held her cradled against his chest with a sharp-fanged grin. Carefully, he set her on her feet and steadied her by the arms when she swayed on her high heels. Her dress had worked its way up her thighs, so she pushed the hem south again. And then she patted her hair back into place. It probably looked like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket, but okay. Clearing her throat delicately, she shouldered her purse, which by some miracle she hadn’t dropped on the sixteen-second trip here. Trying to keep her cool, she stepped forward on the concrete, righted her ankle after it went ninety degrees, and ignored Garret’s deep chuckle beside her. “Perhaps next time warn me when you are going to turn into a flock of bats and fly me through town.”
Shane and Even were leaning against the giant window of the Northside Café with matching smirks.
“Ha, ha, yuck it up for the new girl,” she teased.
“You ain’t new, Dawn,” Shane said in his deep southern accent. His muscles flexed against his blue sweater as he crossed his arms. “You’re the original Winterset feeder. You keep all them girls in line when we get hungry.”
She frowned at the term. She didn’t like to be referred to as Garret’s feeder anymore. She felt like more.
Evan shoved Shane hard. “Girls don’t like when you call ’em feeders.” Evan ducked his dark-eyed gaze to the asphalt and lowered his voice. “Don’t listen to him, Dawn. He was raised by barbarians.” Which was possibly true because all the vampires of the Winterset coven were centuries old except Aric, who was relatively new.
“Idiots,” Garret murmured as he led Dawn past them. He held open the door for the café and waited for her to pass. As the hostess led them to a table in the back, he pulled her in close and said, “You were never just a feeder, D. You know that, right?”
She forced a smile and nodded, but she couldn’t help the feeling that the entire coven saw her the way Dipshit Craig from high school did—as a blood bag. For the first time since she’d visited the coven house four months ago, her cheeks heated with shame.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Garret asked after a couple minutes of her staring at the menu.
“I know some of the girls sleep with the guys when they feed. I’ve heard it. I’ve seen the kissing and petting out in the hallway. I’ve heard the dirty stories from Amanda and Erin. That wasn’t the reason I was there, though.”
“I know it wasn’t.”
“How?”
“Because you aren’t like Amanda, and you sure as hell aren’t like Erin. You were shy and never pushed me to do more than feed. You were proper about it all, and we built our friendship slow and steady, the way we both needed. Don’t compare us to the others, okay? We’re different. Our story is different.”
“Is it?”
Garret’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you told me Torunn had moved on, but that was a lie, wasn’t it? Sadey told me Asmund killed her. I shouldn’t be finding this stuff out from someone else, Garret. Maybe we aren’t as close as I thought. Maybe the coven sees us as what we actually are. Vampire and feeder.”
Garret leaned back against the bench seat and stretched one leg out, rested his calf against hers. “Torunn had moved on, and I tried to as well.”
“But you couldn’t?”
Garret shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Asmund decided he would help me move on. He told me love would make me weak. That it was already making me weak, and he couldn’t have a weak son.” His lips twisted into a feral expression, and he ripped
his blazing black gaze away from her. “Look, this was all a long time ago. I want to live here and now with you.”
“With me, who looks like Torunn and is being hunted by Asmund, just like she was.”
Garret scrubbed his hand down his two-day scruff and huffed out a defeated sigh. He leaned forward on his elbows and gripped her hands, leveled her with an honest look. “I’m not the same man I was with Torunn. I won’t let him hurt you. I swear I won’t. I just need time.”
And she could see it beneath the hunger in his eyes. He was worried. Perhaps the weight of concern he carried was much heavier than she’d realized. She couldn’t keep bringing up Torunn if she was going to separate herself from his past, and anyway, it was hurting him.
She needed to put this date train back on the right tracks so that this right here—this fear—wasn’t the only thing she and Garret remembered from their first dinner together. Sure, she’d eaten over at the coven house many times, but none of those had really counted as dates.
Sadey had made feeder dinners a requirement after she’d bonded with Aric. She made dinner for the girls on the nights they came in, and it was more of a family atmosphere. Dawn had spent many a coven house dinner watching Garret watch her, and now they were here, in an actual restaurant, not having to fight their affection for each other anymore.
Screw Asmund and his treachery. Tonight was all about her and Garret.
“I got you something,” she whispered.
Garret’s wicked smile was back. “Is it no panties?”
Heat flooded her cheeks, and she ducked her gaze. A hundred times she’d wished he would have talked openly like this with her, and now he was. “No,” she said digging around in her oversize purse.
A sudden wave of nervousness washed over her because this could be a bad idea. It was part of why Garret had pushed her away in the first place.
With a steadying breath, Dawn rested on the table the picture she’d taken of them with the special filter. She’d put it in an antique black frame that said G + D in plum purple glitter across the top. In the picture, she was smiling brightly, while Garret was pretending he was going to bite her, had his hands all clawed up and everything.
She pushed it across the table to him, but couldn’t read his expression as he turned it toward himself and stared down at it. His hands were cupped around the top corners of the frame, and when he looked back up at her, his eyes were full of some emotion she didn’t understand.
“When you said you had a new filter for your phone that would show me in the picture, I didn’t believe you. I haven’t seen a picture of myself…well…ever. I didn’t understand why you would even want a picture with me. And then I saw it online, on your social media, and I was shocked, panicked because I was afraid Asmund would see me there, and you, the spitting-image of Torunn beside me. I was scared for you and angry at the risk you’d taken.”
“But I didn’t know I was taking a risk. I just really liked you and wanted pictures.”
“And I can see that now, but at that moment I was replaying Torunn’s death in my head. The thought of anything bad happening to you…” Garret swallowed hard. “But this picture…” His lips ticked up into a smile. “I’m glad my first picture was with you. This is for me to keep?” he asked, holding it up.
“Yeah.”
“I got something for you, too.”
“A date present? Did you get me flowers?”
Garret chuckled as he leaned back and gave the waiter room to set down Dawn’s iced tea. “It’s like flowers, but less romantic and more practical.”
Dawn scrunched up her face. “Does it have glitter on it?”
“No.”
“Sequins?”
Garret snorted and pulled something small from his back pocket, then slid it across the table. It was a carved wooden bat.
“Oh, it’s so cuuute,” Dawn said, drawing her shoulders up as she picked up the adorable critter. “And look, it fits right in my hand!” She wrapped her fingers over the arches of the bat wings. “Did you mean to do that?”
Garret was grinning, and sure, his fangs were still too long, but his smile was easy and his dark eyes were dancing. “Push that button.”
“A button!” Dawn studied the small-carved head of the bat, and sure enough, it was stained darker and gave when she pressed it. Nothing happened. She jammed it harder, and a long spike burst out of the bottom like a switch blade. Dawn gasped and then stared in awe at the little weapon. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yep. It’s the perfect length to nick a vamp heart. Push the button before you stake or with the bat against his chest, either way.”
“You gifted me a weapon,” she murmured. “Did you carve this yourself?”
“Yeah. Do you hate it?” He actually looked uncertain, like she somehow couldn’t like the hand-carved pocket-stake he’d made just for her.
“This is way better than flowers. Garret, you like me!”
Clasping his giant hands on the table, he nodded. “That I do. I’m going to teach you how to use it.”
Dawn was slashing it through the air like a stabby maniac when Garret grabbed her hand. “Grip tighter. Don’t go crazy with the slashing. You need to get it here.” He pulled her wrist and rested the point of the stake right over his heart. “Here, feel.” He grabbed her free hand and pressed her fingertips into his muscle until she could feel his ribs. “Between them so you don’t hit bone. If you hit bone, pull back and try again immediately before he recovers. Carry this everywhere until this is done.” Garret’s tone had gone deadly serious. “Okay?”
Dawn didn’t like the stake that close to his heart, so she pulled away hard and pushed the button again. She used the table top to jam the stake back inside until it clicked into place, then slowly she nodded. “I’ll keep it on me. I promise.”
Chapter Seven
Dawn bumped Garret’s shoulder as they walked to the next halo of street light. He’d given her the choice to walk back to the coven house or to fly, but she selfishly wanted more time with him before they were back with the others. Well, as close to alone as they could get. Dawn looked behind her at where she imagined Shane and Evan to be following in the shadows. She couldn’t see them, but she had this prickly feeling of being watched that raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck.
Since Dawn was now barefoot, her heels dangling from her fingertips, she sidled around a puddle on the edge of the road. Garret was there, hand in hers, helping her keep her balance like a gentleman. When she fell into step with him again, he pulled her hand into the crook of his elbow, right against his rock-hard bicep.
“Did you learn your manners from being a Viking?” she teased.
Garret chuckled. “No. It was a very different time then. Relationships between men and women were different. Touch was different.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was rougher. The women in my village didn’t need to hold hands or hug for minutes on end. There was flirting and shoving and rough fucking and that was affection enough for most.”
“Was it enough for you?”
“Yes,” he said void of hesitation. “It was how I’d grown up. What about you?”
“You’re asking if I’m mushy?”
He flashed her a quick smile and nodded.
Dawn frowned. She hadn’t thought about it before, but she realized now she had changed so very much since meeting Garret. “I wasn’t always mushy in relationships. I didn’t need a lot from boyfriends.” Garret’s arm flexed when she said that last word, so she rushed onward. “I accepted whatever affection they gave me, but I kept them at a distance emotionally. I guess I don’t have a lot of trust in men following through.”
“Because of your dad?”
“Yeah, and my stepdad, Gary. The ones who should’ve stuck around didn’t, and Mom’s boyfriends after that pulled the same stunts until she just stopped trying. I stopped wanting a father figure because there was no benefit that outweighed the pain of sayi
ng goodbye. And when I started dating, it was the same story with every one of my boyfriends. They pulled away when things got too serious. Or maybe it was me, I don’t know. Maybe I was halfway out already, and they could tell. I wasn’t surprised when they broke up with me. I just expected it, you know?”
Music notes drifted to her on the wind, and Garret’s attention was now on a house at the end of the block with all its lights on. The smell of grilling hamburgers and the sound of muffled laughter filled the air. Someone must’ve been hosting a barbecue. The song was a slow country song, one Garret liked to play on the old jukebox that sat in the living room of the coven house. His lips curved up into a smile as he pulled Dawn in a wide circle under the street light until she was facing him. Then he eased her in close, slid his strong hand up her back, and gently held her other as he began to sway from side-to-side with the cadence of the music.
“Your dad and stepdad and those boys you dated missed out, Dawn. You got unlucky with them, but not every man is like that. Not everyone leaves.”
She could feel his loyalty, and her uncertainty settled within her just slightly. It wasn’t an instant fix to her careful heart, but it was a step in the right direction. For eleven hundred years, Garret had clung to thoughts of Torunn, the last woman he’d had as a human. So much that he had found Dawn just because she resembled her.
“How did you find me?” she asked softly. “Winterset isn’t a big town, and I haven’t been much inclined to leave and make a splash with my life. And then you showed up one day, looking at me as if we had known each other for always. You encouraged Aric to settle here, but how? How did you end up here, with me?”
“The same way Asmund found you.”
“Social media?”
Garret nodded, his cheek against her hair. “You know the facial recognition software used in law enforcement?”