Читать книгу Holiday with a Vampire: Christmas Cravings - Caridad Pineiro - Страница 10

Grayson woke up in the dark. Nothing new there, but for a second he couldn’t figure out why he was awake. He sensed that it was still daylight because his body hadn’t recharged itself yet. The lethargy bore him down into the flattened, hundred-and-fifty-year-old mattress on the narrow bed he’d constructed so long ago.

His burns were mostly healed, but his hands still tingled with the reminder of the close call he’d had. Hell. He hadn’t been caught in daylight since he’d been newly changed. One day with Tessa Franklin and he’d almost become a torch.

Twice.

When the cell phone in his pocket rang again, he realized what had pulled him out of sleep. Grabbing the damn thing, he checked caller ID, then answered—only because he knew this caller wouldn’t give up until he’d gotten through. “What is it, Damon?”

“Where the hell are you?”

Damon St. John, the Vampire King, wasn’t known for his patience in the best of times. With his new reign already threatened by lesser vampires looking to take over, this was clearly not the best of times.

“None of your business,” Grayson told him. “I’m out of this and you know it.”

It was a long-running argument. Damon and he had been friends until Damon had decided to take an active part in governing the vampire “community.” Now, he’d been named king, but there were factions that weren’t happy about Damon being in charge.

Grayson didn’t care. He stayed out of politics, and instead kept to himself, along the way earning a reputation as being a rogue. Which was fine by him. He’d spent the last hundred years keeping a low profile. He’d amassed a fortune out of hard work, luck and, hell, boredom. And the king was counting on Grayson to back him in the fight to keep his throne.

“You’re in Wyoming, aren’t you?” Damon’s disgust came clearly across the phone. “Still punishing yourself for surviving?”

“Back off.” Grayson sat up, bracing his elbows on his knees. This was an old argument, too. Damon had never been able to understand why Grayson hadn’t simply accepted being a vampire. The freedom. The immortality.

Maybe it was because his immortality had come at too high a price.

“I need you back here.”

“You’ve got plenty of support,” Grayson reminded him.

“The other side is counting on you,” Damon said tightly. “They figure if you’re not supporting me, you’ll be on their side. Are they right?”

Pushing himself off the cot, Grayson stalked around the small, dark room. Outside, there was a world going about its business. Here, there were only shadows. And memories. He shoved one hand through his hair. “No,” he said. “They’re not right. I’m out of this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Damon told him. “You can’t be out. You’re a vampire. And it doesn’t matter how often you go to that damned house of yours. You’ll never be a man again. So why don’t you just let it go? Move on?”

“Stay out of this, Damon.” Anger simmered inside.

“Fine. Torture yourself some more. Just keep your eyes open. Seems my enemies are looking for you.”

When they hung up, Grayson tossed the phone onto the old table. Hell, maybe Damon was right. What was the point of coming back here year after year? Maybe his business manager had done the right thing in selling off the house. Maybe it was time he accepted who and what he was.

He threw a glance at the back of the bookcase as if he could see beyond that doorway into the house where Tessa was. She’d surprised him. Intrigued him. And he wanted her. Wanted the taste of her in his mouth and the feel of his body inside hers.

Everything in him itched to find her, toss her onto that damned cot and have her. Instincts he’d been at war with since his change rose to the surface and shook him to the bone. Tessa Franklin had thrown him. Hard.

Then he remembered what Damon had said. Other vampires knew about his habit of coming to this house at Christmas. If they followed him here, Tessa wasn’t safe. He’d brought the vampire war directly to her door.

His chest tightened. If another vampire showed up on her door, she wouldn’t suspect him. She’d probably think he was just another guest for her damned inn. Which meant she wouldn’t be able to protect herself.

Which meant he was going to have to do it for her.

Looked like he was involved in this vampire war whether he wanted to be or not.

“Definitely time to stop coming here,” he muttered and sank down onto the chair.

Tessa had a vampire stashed in a secret room, but that didn’t keep her from attacking Christmas week in a big way. She busied herself hanging more garland and setting out the cranberry- and pinescented candles. There was a dish of chocolates on the living room table that she dipped into a little too often, but since she had a vampire in her house, Tessa figured she was due a little extra chocolate.

Besides, staying busy kept her from thinking too much. Thinking about how her vampire had once owned this house. Heck, built this house. About the power in his eyes. About what it felt like when he’d touched her.

And he’s not your vampire, she told herself firmly. For God’s sake. A vampire. She couldn’t stop thinking of that word. Obsession. Good sign. But she couldn’t help the way her insides jangled when she thought about him.

She had to stop thinking of the word vampire.

Which was why it was a good thing that her only customer, Joe Baston, was checking out early. He was a nice man, but Tessa couldn’t help but be grateful that he was leaving. Hiding a vampire in your secret room was a lot easier when there wasn’t anyone else around.

Vampire.

Stop it! Her fingers shook as she filled in the credit card slip for the older man standing opposite her. Giving him a smile she hoped he wouldn’t notice was a little too forced to be really cheerful, she said, “I hope you come back, Mr. Baston.”

“Oh, that’d be real nice. It’s a great place you have here.” He glanced around at the high, beamed ceilings and the fresh cream-colored paint on the wood plank walls. “Homey. Welcoming. I think you’ve got yourself a winner with this inn.”

Not if all of her customers left as early as he did, Tessa thought but didn’t say.

But he seemed to understand, since he spoke up again quickly. “I’m sure sorry about leaving early.” He didn’t look sorry, though. His pleased grin was infectious. “But my daughter’s insisting I stay with her while I’m here, and it’s a chance to spend lots of extra time with the grandkids.”

“It’s not a problem, really,” Tessa said, watching him sign the slip. After all, she’d only been open a couple of weeks. She was sure to get more customers after the holidays. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your trip.”

“Well,” he said, tossing the pen onto her desk, “I’ll be sure to tell folks what a nice place you’ve got here.”

“I’d appreciate it, thanks.” Tessa smiled and waved as he headed out the door, and then she looked around the empty room.

She needed more Christmas in here. A tree, of course, but one glance at the snow currently pelting the front windows told her that she wouldn’t be taking care of that chore today.

But she did everything else she could think of—pausing every now and then for a glimpse at the bookcase hiding Grayson Stone from her.

Amazing how much the world could change in twenty-four hours. God, yesterday seemed like a lifetime ago. Yesterday, she hadn’t even known vampires existed. Now she had one stashed in her house.

Was she crazy?

Probably. Absolutely, who was she kidding? Vampires were fictional. Dreamed up by authors trying to scare gullible readers when everyone knew there were enough scary real things out there already!

The doorbell rang. She jolted out of her thoughts and hurried across the room. She peered through the glass in the upper half of the door and spotted a private delivery van in the driveway. Opening the door, she was slapped by an icy wind and wet splats of snow. Squinting, she half hid behind the door and asked, “Yes?”

“Delivery for Grayson Stone.” The short guy in a beige uniform and a fluorescent orange parka held out a clipboard with a sign-in sheet and a pen attached to it. “Sign at number sixteen.”

“Right.” Grayson had told her a package would arrive. She signed her name, handed the clipboard back and when he turned to leave, she saw the box on the porch. Plain brown wrapping and a name and address label. No clue to what was inside.

She fought the wind, grabbed the box and stepped back into the house, slamming the door with her hip. The fire crackled and hissed as she stared down at the box and wondered about what could be inside. Carrying the heavy parcel across the room, she pulled on the bookcase latch and let the doorway swing open.

Grayson grabbed her at the throat.

She yelped, dropped the box and he let her go instantly. Staggering back, Tessa gulped in some air and forced her heart out of her throat and back into her chest where it belonged. She flipped her hair back out of her eyes and glared at him. “What the heck was that for?”

“Announce yourself. I didn’t know who the hell might have discovered this room,” he muttered, moving to the table.

“So you had to strangle me?” She rubbed her throat and could still feel the strength of his grip imprinted on her flesh. “Besides, even I didn’t know this room existed. How’s a stranger going to wander in and discover it?” Fear dribbled into the pit of her stomach, despite the fact that he’d let her go as soon as he’d figured out that she wasn’t a threat.

“Sorry.” He paced to the far wall, spun around and looked at her.

He kept a safe distance from her now, as if to convince one or both of them that he wasn’t going to hurt her.

“I’m not used to being around—”

“Humans?” she finished for him.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, try harder.” She waved a hand at the toppled box. “The package you told me about was just delivered.”

“Good. Thanks.” He walked to it, picked it up and set it onto the table. Then he looked at her meaningfully.

She frowned. “What is it?”

“Mine.”

Tessa shook her head. “I want to know what’s in my house.”

He watched her for a long second or two, then gave her a sharp nod. Tearing the strapping tape free, he opened the box, lifted out a Styrofoam packer containing dry ice, then reached deeper. He pulled out a small, plastic bag filled with…blood.

The thick red liquid sloshed back and forth while he held it and Tessa’s stomach did a quick pitch and roll. Of course. Vampire. Blood.

“Okay…” She pulled in a breath and let it go again slowly. “I just…I guess I wasn’t expecting to see that.”

“Vampire, remember?” He dropped the blood back into the box and folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve got connections at a blood bank.”

“Wow. ‘Blood bank’ sort of takes on a whole new meaning for me now.”

He frowned at her. “It’s better this way, believe me. I haven’t drunk from a living human in nearly a hundred years.”

How insane was it that she actually found that information sort of comforting?

As if he sensed her relief, he added, “That doesn’t mean things can’t change.”

“You’re deliberately trying to keep me scared,” she pointed out. “And not that it’s working, but why?”

“Because you should be.” He came around the table, laid both hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “Others of my kind know I come here every year. Some may come looking for me. That means you’re not safe.”

“More vampires? Here?” Looking up into his deep black eyes, she shivered. “Why are they looking for you?”

He let her go and shook his head. “There’s a war brewing in the vampire world. We’re expected to take sides.”

“A vampire war?” Tessa’s voice sounded strained even to herself, as if she’d had to squeeze those words out a too tight throat. “And it’s coming here?”

“Maybe.” He scraped a hand across his jaw. “I don’t know who’s coming—hell, even if anyone is coming. Can’t be sure.”

“And if they do come, then what?” The small dribble of fear she’d felt earlier became a running river, pushing through her veins, making her mouth dry and her head feel light.

He slanted a look at her. “If they come, then you should be gone.”

Go? When she’d finally found a home? When she finally had something to live for? A chance at a life that wasn’t revolving around hiding? No.

She’d run before to save her life.

Now she would stay to fight for it. “I’m not leaving.”

“Yeah. Thought you’d say that.” Walking back to the table, he reached into the box and picked up a packet of blood. “So. Looks like I won’t be leaving tonight after all.”

“Damn straight,” she snapped, fear giving way to resolve at the thought of hordes of vampires descending on her. “You can help me make stakes…and I wonder if the church in town is open. Holy water. A bucket or two full. And…” She stopped, looked at him and said, “I know why I want the help. But why are you volunteering to stay?”

“Because I brought this here. And I’m not going to bring more death into this house.”

His gaze was dark, his features tight and every square inch of him looked poised for battle. That sense of power that clung to him filled the tiny room and practically hummed in the air.

“More death?”

“A hundred and fifty years ago,” he said quietly, “my wife and children died in this house. And I was the one who invited their killer inside.”