The Fangover (The Fangover 1)

Wyatt didn’t need to feed more than once a night, or sometimes even for several nights, given his age. But Saxon was a young vampire. He probably was struggling with true hunger, and Wyatt knew that if you were craving blood, a bar was as torturous as it was for an alcoholic. All those sweaty, aroused bodies dancing and flirting and moving. Their blood scent hung over the room like a London fog, surrounding them with its enticing sweetness.

Saxon was hard to take seriously because he was such a goof, but he was a vampire and he did struggle with the same urges they all did. Wyatt had the feeling he needed to take Saxon seriously right now. “Hey, you okay? You want to go home and get a bag?”

“That might not be a bad idea.”

Saxon lived on Decatur above a souvenir shop, and if he cut down Dumaine they weren’t that far. “We’re only five minutes from your place so you might as well. Meet us back here, okay?” Not that he wanted to hang around indefinitely but he still thought it wasn’t a bad idea to stick together.

“Why does he get to wander off when you nixed me coming here alone?” Stella looked put out.

Which seemed to be her look of the evening except for when she had been riding him.

“Because I’m not sleeping with Saxon,” he told her. No point in putting any other spin on it.

Drake, who had been playing with his phone, glanced up. “You two are sleeping with each other?”

Though he didn’t sound particularly surprised or concerned about the idea. Which really made Wyatt wish he’d kept his mouth shut. Drake, that is. Wyatt was glad he had said something. Stella needed to know he wasn’t playing around here—he could be patient but he did want a relationship with her.

“No,” Stella sputtered. “Well, yes, actually. But only twice. Why do you care?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Drake said, going back to his phone. “I figured you’d get around to banging each other sooner or later.”

Wyatt watched Stella for her reaction to Drake’s nonchalance. Maybe Stella was the only one who hadn’t noticed Wyatt’s lengthy crush on her.

“Don’t be crude,” was her scathing, prudish response.

“What, banging each other isn’t what you’re doing? Is Wyatt making love to you, Stella?” Drake teased her.

She looked embarrassed. Wyatt felt embarrassed. If Drake started calling him her lover he was going to have a real problem with it.

“You know, just mind your own business.” Stella looked relieved when Benny hopped down off the bar and came over, his cell phone in his hand. “Thanks, Benny, we’ll just take a peek and get it right back to you.”

“Whatever you need, goddess.” Benny used a stool to leap back up onto the bar, earning him a few catcalls from patrons.

“You sleeping with him, too?” Drake asked.

“No. How’s your fake fang?” Stella paused in navigating Benny’s phone to glance up and wrinkle her nose at Drake.

“Ouch.” Drake laughed. “It’s actually pretty damn sore, but I’ll be fine. And I get the message. You want me to back off. But how often do I get to give you a hard time? Indulge me.”

She started to speak, then her eyes went wide as she looked at the phone. “Oh my God. Wyatt, you really are wearing a corset.”

Chapter Eleven

THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT BETTY

KATIE wasn’t totally kidding. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know anything else. It already seemed pretty apparent that Cort had been the one to bite her. And they legitimately seemed to be married, too. Okay, not by the Lurch of a minister back there, but by someone. Probably the priest in the bathtub. Which somehow seemed apropos.

And they had found out what happened to Saxon’s forehead.

She glanced at the cookie jar cradled in Cort’s arm. And now they had an Elvis cookie jar. That was probably enough for tonight.

But she didn’t say that. Instead, heaven help her, she did exactly what she’d just told herself she didn’t want to do. She asked another question.

“Do you think the blood on me was mine? Or someone else’s?”

Cort shook his head. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

Katie wasn’t sure which option disturbed her more. But it did explain why she was now wearing a T-shirt and jeans. They’d gotten her a change of clothing at some point, obviously.

They walked a bit, silent. Katie considered asking where they were going, but instead addressed the other issue at the forefront of her mind.

“Do you think the reverend knew?”

“Knew what?”

“That we’re vampires,” Katie said.

Cort was quiet for a moment. “I had the same thought, but I guess it doesn’t matter. He didn’t seem like he was going to do anything about it.”

They were silent again, heading down Burgundy back toward the center of the Quarter.

Katie supposed he was right. But it did make her wonder, if the reverend suspected something about them being vampires, couldn’t others, too?

“What if he isn’t the only one who knows?” she asked. “Couldn’t that be dangerous?”

Cort glanced at her, then shrugged, the parrot ruffling its feathers at the movement. “Maybe, but again, I don’t think we should worry unless we find out something concrete. We have enough to worry about tonight, don’t you think?”

Katie suspected he was just playing down his own concern, but she nodded anyway. She’d found the reverend very unnerving, and she found the idea of other humans knowing their secret worrisome, too. What if they saw them as monsters? Cort himself said that some vampires did survive by sucking human blood. What if a human who knew about them was behind what happened last night?

“Listen,” Cort said, obviously noticing her worry. “I really don’t think we have anything to worry about. I mean, if the reverend had wanted to do something to us, he’d had a perfect opportunity last night. We were totally out of it.”

Katie nodded, but decided to share her thoughts anyway. “But didn’t you say that it’s very strange for a vampire to black out, especially from drinking?”

“Yeah.”

“So what if someone did something to you all intentionally.”

Cort stopped and turned to Katie. The bird ruffled again.

“Like drugged us or something?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a thought.”

Cort didn’t speak, but he didn’t start walking again either.