Accidentally Dead Page 22

  In an instant, Greg’s face turned to stone. Hard as granite and masked with a quiet, eerie fury so real it was palpable.

  Hoo boy. She’d gone too far. It shouldn’t bother her that she had—no one could ever accuse Nina Blackman of being afraid to push the envelope. But it bothered her when she could visibly see it, because it meant she was in too deep and he was going to let her have it. She just never knew when to stop. Her way of poking around and testing his emotions was to hurl accusations before thinking about what came out of her mouth—even if now, in the heat of the moment—they seemed absurd. And she was going to get an ass whooping for it. She sensed it, yet anger wasn’t the only sensation she was picking up. He was insulted…

  The line of Greg’s mouth tightened for a moment as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I have a question now.”

  Her answer was hesitant. Something she didn’t do well normally. “O-okay.” Or was it?

  Greg loomed over her, his body tense, tight with a whole new level of rage. “What the hell is it with you, Nina? You come here to my home to give me hell because I turned you into a vampire. I’m not saying that isn’t a big deal and maybe I should have fallen at your feet and begged for mercy if you had your druthers, but that isn’t ever going to happen. I’m all about the here and now, and I’ve told you on at least three occasions, I have no knowledge that you can ever be turned back—so I try, in my Cro-Magnon way, to help you so I can make this huge mistake right. I chase you down and bring you blood. I put up with the insults you fling like sharp arrows, I listen to your constant yelling, crazy accusations, and now I’m supposed to stand here while you accuse me of banging you and casting you aside with some blood? Blood?” He shook his head with disgust. The grooves on either side of his mouth were deep, the furrow between his eyebrows cross.

  His disgust for her made her cringe. How totally fabulous that now, all out of the blue, she could pick up on all these emotions—after she’d fucking stepped in a quagmire of shit.

  Greg’s simmering anger was palpable in his next words. “You’re some piece of work, Nina Blackman.”

  Nina gulped. Way to make her feel like shit. And she’d accused him of using her.

  Greg opened the front door with a hard yank, the wind rushing in to catch her hair with a sharp gust. “Oh, and just for the record, Nina, sometimes it really is okay to just accept the help you’re offered without thinking there’s some kind of ulterior motive beyond what’s staring you in the face, and now I do believe this conversation is over.”

  Nina stared at him in incredulous disbelief. Was he dismissing her? Just like that?

  Take that, bitch.

  Her phone vibrated angrily against her thigh. Shit, the night dweller meeting. Her hand immediately went to her pocket to quiet her phone, while Greg glared at her with a question in his eyes.

  Of all the times. But really, what else was there to say?

  Well, if dignity is something you treasure, Nina, you’ll leave and do it fast. Go on with your bad self and strut outta here like the world is your oyster and he’s just some guppy who amused you along the way. Because you’ve blown it.

  Her feet wouldn’t move, and while she knew she had to go if she hoped to get back to Hackensack, she felt like she had to say something. Anything. If this was it, really it, shouldn’t they have a “thanks for the memories” moment?

  Greg’s stony expression didn’t exactly inspire a warm parting. His eyes gleamed with fire, just daring her to say something smart.

  Defeat settled in her chest.

  Nina gave him one last glance, a mixture of confusion and apology, before she placed one hand on his chest and let the cotton of his shirt leave an imprint on her hand. “I have to go anyway,” she said, fighting to keep regret out of her voice.

  She left minus a sharp retort and with a chest that felt like a ton of bricks had just landed on it.

  CHAPTER

  12

  Okay.

  The Hackensack business district at two in the morning sucked wankers. Absolutely no one was around, so if she found she needed help with this mystery vampire, she was certifiably fucked.

  Nina checked the street sign again out of nervousness to make sure she’d gotten it right from the message he’d left her on her cell. Snow had begun to fall in fat, wet flakes. Flakes that were merely a distraction to her vision instead of cold and bothersome.

  Lifting her face skyward, she let them fall on her cheeks, like she had when she was a kid.

  No sharp sting of cold meeting warm, flushed cheeks. No thrilling chill for the first real snow of the season.

  There was just nothing. Which she still found hard to believe, considering she’d been hotter than lava over Greg.

  Greg.

  She’d fucked that up, hadn’t she? The farther she’d distanced herself from him, the more she felt like maybe she’d dealt herself a final blow. And that would suck. And that it sucked meant she liked him—which, too, sucked. No one had ever booted her out of anywhere. Especially not some man. She was the booter. He had some seriously clanging set of cajones.

  And goddamn it all, that was hot.

  Leaning up against a tall, brick building, Nina scanned the street. Where was this motherfucker anyway? She sniffed the air, hoping her bionic olfactory senses would pick up something. She’d know the mystery vamp’s smell, unique only to him.

  Movement from the building to her right caught her eye. Her bionic one apparently, because it’d only been a quick movement of shadow, but she could see it as though it moved right in front of her face.

  Well, it was now or never.

  Nina stepped out onto the sidewalk and planted her hands on her hips.

  Very Clint Eastwood, Nina.

  The snow fell more heavily, blanketing her until she saw only a tall shadow, elongated by the muted streetlamps. It drew closer, coming directly at her. The scent she picked up was anger, and that didn’t sit well with her. It made her defensive. Why should he be angry with her if he was the one who’d contacted her? It made no sense, but the smell that made her nostrils flare was definite.

  Rage.

  What if it wasn’t the guy from the bar? What if it was some freak out looking to whack some chick off because his mommy didn’t make him buttered toast and cut it into fun shapes when he was a kid?

  His dark outline against the white backdrop of snow was almost directly in front of her.

  If she were the panicking kind, she’d feel almost stalked, and the hell she’d let him think he could scare her—even if he claimed to have the 411 on Lisanne and even if she was just a little hesitant. Yeah, hesitant was a not so pussy word. She was hesitant and what did one do when they were hesitant? They came out swinging, and the hell with the consequences.

  So she did what she did best.

  Reacted.

  No questions asked, screw the outcome, his supposed information be damned.

  When he was but a foot from her, the heavy snow leaving her almost blind, Nina steamrolled the imposing figure, knocking him down with a solid plow to his chest. Her first, vague thought was if this was the guy from the bar, he packed some serious muscle under that flannel shirt. She was assuming he was male, from the hard wall his chest presented to the top of her head.

  It happened so fast, her on top of him, she didn’t have time to think. Nina felt the movement of muscle in her limbs, she just couldn’t keep up with it.

  Very, very impressive, she mentally patted herself on the head. It was so Kung Fu and Rambo all at once she couldn’t help but be awed by this ability to move around in a wild momentum of motion.

  Until whoever had her decided she was far better off facedown on the pavement with his chest on her back. The solid weight of the body was definitely male, she decided.

  Nina grunted before wrapping her hands around his head and preparing to crack it on the sidewalk by her shoulder. The elongation of her incisors was welcomed, yet horrifying, but her anger, vampire anger she guessed, for being
thrown down on the wet snow, had her in its clutches. Nina saw Marty’s infamous color wheel of life flash before her eyes, and all the shades spinning on it were red. She grabbed for his hand, ready to sink her teeth into him.

  “I’d put those away, if I were you, before someone gets hurt,” her attacker muttered against her ear, thrilling and further inciting her all at once.

  He pushed off of her, only to flip her over on her back and cuff her wrists above her head.

  The rush of adrenaline Nina had experienced began to fade, replaced by surprise.

  Wing Man.

  Jay-suess. What was he doing here?

  “Looking out for your impulsive, rude butt. I think the real question here is, what are you doing here?”

  Nina struggled from beneath him, tearing her hands from his strong grip. God, that Amazing Kreskin thing was a little too far this side of crazy. “I went for a walk.”

  “Oh, the hell you did. You’re lying.”

  Don’tthinkdon’tthinkdon’tthink. She repeated the phrase over and over in her head to keep from revealing what she was really doing in downtown Hackensack in the wee hours of the morning.

  Pulling her arms around his neck, Greg hauled her up eye level. “So?”

  “So, get out of my head and knock it off.”

  “I wasn’t in your head. Your question was written all over your face, and that you’re lying is as plain as that cute nose on your face. So what are you doing?”

  “Taking a walk, or I was before you came along. I might have flown, but if you’ll recall, I don’t have the gift of flight.”

  The line of his mouth grew grim. His expression said doubtful. “Nope. I’m not buying that. Are you buying more blood because you’re too proud to drink what I left you because I’m some scum-sucking pig who buys women off with immortal treats?”

  Dayum, he kinda had her tagged. Hearing her accusation out loud made her feel petty. Now the guilt was all hers, clawing at her stomach. “No,” she said honestly. “I’m not buying blood. I just needed to clear my head.”

  “Did you learn anything tonight? Anything at all?”

  “Do you mean that ‘I’m a big mouth thing’?” she quipped, letting sarcasm lace her words, because it was easier than saying she was a sorry shithead. Or for that matter, that she was just plain sorry.

  “No, Nina. I mean being very careful who you consort with. Hooking up with the wrong person could be deadly. It’s clear to me that your scent for tracking another vamp is weak at best. By now you should know my scent. Every vampire has a unique scent.”

  She’d totally forgotten to use that in the rush to best what she thought might be the enemy. But she had smelled his anger. Score one for the newbie vamp.

  “And your teeth…”

  Her hand went to her mouth, touching her incisors, now shortening back to their normal size. “What about them?”

  “You were ready to use them in self-defense. After all your carrying on, I don’t suppose, had it not been me, you’d like to thrust this lifestyle upon someone else, would you? You didn’t know it was me, Nina. You just went in both fists flying. You can’t ever be too careful, fledgling, and that hot head of yours is going to be your end.”

  Jesus Christ in a miniskirt. Guilt swelled in her chest. How reckless and foolish. Yeah, she’d been ready to gnaw his hand off like it was a T-bone.

  His anger still simmered, evident in the hard stare he kept her under. The snow had plastered his hair to his skull, droplets of moisture sliding from his forehead. “So why don’t you tell me the truth about why you’re here, two miles from your apartment in a snowstorm?”

  No matter how remorseful she was about their fight, there was no way she was going to tell him she’d come to meet some guy who’d promised her she could have her mortality back. It was like telling him she’d gotten an email saying she’d won the lottery in Zimbabwe, and she was off to catch the first plane to collect. Um, no. His staunch belief, whether real or misguided, that there was no going back wouldn’t lend to his belief that she’d met someone, in a karaoke bar no less, who claimed he could help her find Lisanne. The impression Greg left her with was he didn’t want her to find Lisanne at all. Whether it was because she was dangerous to fuck with or a motivation she was now having trouble justifying, the idea made him jiggy. That much she was confident of.

  She used her hands to shove off his chest so she wouldn’t be so close. She wasn’t much of a liar, and it would show if he could read her eyes. “I told you, I took a walk to clear my head. I don’t know why you think I need a keeper.”

  Her dry response made him smile with a cocky lift of his eyebrow. “At the very least, you need a babysitter.”

  “Bite me,” she yelled up at him, fighting the driving wind and wet snow dripping from her hair and onto her shirt.

  “With pleasure,” he yelled back.

  She rolled her eyes, wishing away the temptation to tell him to go right ahead and take a piece of her. A piece of her neck. “Why did you follow me anyway? Wasn’t it you I just left all pissed off?”

  “Oh, you’re damn right I’m pissed, Nina, but it doesn’t change the fact that someone needs to look out for you, or are you forgetting the last time you struck out on your own with the blood guy?”

  Yes, yes, yes! She’d made some mistakes. Okay. All right. For crap’s sake, enough with the constant harping on her shortcomings and persecuting her for them. “I’m going home.”

  Before she was able to make a very dramatic display of a good huffy, pouty, stomping-off exit into the night, Greg grabbed her upper arm. “You do that. The world is a safer place if you do,” he growled at her, disappearing into thin air with a scowl on his face. The snowy, opalescent night swallowed him up, leaving her to deal with her increasing frustration.

  Nina kicked at the snow, trudging home with a whole new barrel of problems. First, she was lying to Greg. Why that disturbed her wasn’t worth the time it would take for more introspection. It just did, and if she could get it to quit the fuck nagging at her, she’d set it aside.

  But it rankled, gnawing and relentless the entire way home.

  The most important thing here was her finding her way back to mortality, and if she wasted one more second liking Dracula, worrying when he was angry with her, being turned on by him, and in general just thinking about him, she’d lose her focus.

  Second, why did this asshole keep calling her if he didn’t intend to help her? Maybe this was some kind of vampire initiation—like swallowing goldfish—and he thought it was funny to string her along.

  If that was the case, she wasn’t laughing. It was time to find the wayward vamp or bust.

  The tard.

  THE next night, Nina threw her phone down on the couch with an angry yelp. The hell? According to her cell phone provider, no calls had been made to her at the approximate time she’d reported to customer service, and there was no record of calls from anyone other than Marty and Wanda. It was right in front of her eyes—it said private caller and listed the date and times he’d called. And to make her sound like even more of a lunatic, there was only one message in her voicemail—from the electric company, telling her if she didn’t pay her electric bill she’d have to pay to have it turned back on. After they of course turned it off, because she was two months behind.

  And it was Thursday.

  She considered calling Lou and canceling simply because she had so much on her plate. Thursday’s seemed to come round faster and faster these days, and she’d put Lou off plenty. Lou’d let it go, snickering her encouragement for Nina to spend time with Greg.

  When she’d spoken to her yesterday, Lou’d sounded tired, but not too tired to remind Nina to bring back her handsome young man, because he seemed to enjoy her pot roast.

  Nina thwarted Lou’s notion that Greg would come with her in favor of telling her he had a last minute work thing. After their argument last night, she was going to fly low under the radar, and the hell she’d invite him to Lou’s fo
r dinner.

  Mulling over what he’d said, while it pissed her off to no end, she realized he was right. She was taking the kind of risks that would have her turning into a job for a dust mop. Her impulse to use a good right hook before she gave anyone a chance to explain was second nature to her, and curbing that could only be wise in this vampire game.

  Typically, she’d be willing to risk going down in a blaze of glory, but Greg had a way of hitting some hard truths home to her, and though she didn’t like it, his advice was well warranted.

  Slipping some jeans and a sweatshirt on, and twisting her hair into a knot at the back of her head, Nina headed off to her grandmother’s, trying to let her argument with Greg and their ensuing scuffle go. She needed peace in her head for just a little while, while she figured out exactly how she was going to avoid her eyeballs burning over Lou’s crucifixes and how she’d eat Lou’s pot roast.

  When she rounded the corner, she saw Greg, sprawled out on her grandmother’s front porch with his elbows holding him up. Her stomach tumbled, butterflies taking flight deep in the pit of it.

  There wasn’t a thing about him she didn’t think was mad-hot, and that it was becoming her primary focus made her worry—maybe even more than being a vampire forever did. His jeans fit snugly across his thighs, the muscles bulging enticingly. He wore a pullover sweater, black with splashes of multicolors across the chest, stretched tautly across his stomach as he leaned back. His profile seemed relaxed. The sharp cut of his jaw showed no hint of an oncoming clench, and his arms draped over his abdomen loosely, crossed at the wrists.

  The sight of him waiting with a bouquet of flowers in hand brought Nina so much relief she almost couldn’t speak.

  Confusion, relief, confusion, and more relief wove together, intertwining and making it harder for her to think.