The Undead in My Bed (Dark Ones #10.6)
Page 48“Nope. Couldn’t find a night tour.”
That was disappointing. I wondered how he’d felt about his vampirism when he found that out and stroked his chest consolingly. “I bet it’s not that interesting anyhow. Tell me about the fountain instead.” I wanted to picture him there, in the midst of the crowds in Rome, drinking in the sights, blending in with human tourists, surrounded by wonders. “Tell me about all of it.”
As he thought for a moment, his hand stopped in my hair, then started again. “It’s this enormous fountain. I thought it was a pool at first, because it’s long and square like one, except there’s people surrounding it and this beautiful, ornate Baroque building right behind it. The center of the fountain is full of statues, all beautifully carved out of all this rock, and you walk up and think that you’ve stumbled upon some grotto where the gods have come to play. And it’s all lit up. I imagine it’s lovely by day, but at night, all the marble is golden and shining, and the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. There are thousands of coins in the water, and it’s amazing to think that each one represents someone who stopped by the fountain and made a wish.”
I smiled, my eyes closed. “It sounds lovely.”
“It was.”
“Now tell me about Paris.”
“Paris… wasn’t so great.”
I thumped him again. “You’re lying.”
“Maybe.”
I lifted my head and looked up at him. I raised one eyebrow. “Are you deliberately playing things down so I won’t get jealous of your adventures?”
He gave me an enigmatic smile. “Maybe.”
That was sweet of him. I laid my cheek back against his chest and gave his abdomen a hard pinch of warning. “Paris. Details. Now.”
Michael chuckled and wrapped his hand in my hair again. “When I got to Paris the first time, it was raining…”
Chapter Six
My eyes flew open, and I stared across the small room, trying to figure out what had awakened me.
Michael was still curled up against my side, his breathing soft and even. I sat up, ears straining. Someone was in the front of the shop. I’d heard the soft murmur of the butcher’s cheerful voice earlier as he’d helped customers, but it was six o’clock now, and the shop was closed.
The footsteps got closer. My ears pricked again. Maybe they were restocking the deli counter from the stuff in the freezer? As I listened to the footsteps, I noticed a pattern. Two steps and then a soft rap-rap. It happened again, and then again. My skin prickled with awareness.
I slid from the bed and placed my ear against the door. Two steps, rap-rap.
Someone was knocking on the walls. I tensed, my predator instinct fully alert. Whoever was on the other side was testing the wall every few feet.
A pause, then another rap-rap. Then I heard the door to the antechamber slide open.
A growl formed low in my throat, and I swallowed it, but I allowed the claws forming at my fingertips to emerge.
The footsteps entered the small antechamber adjoining our safe room and paused again. I heard beeps as someone punched at the keypad. A pause, then a few more beeps. Then swearing and the punching of different buttons, phone buttons.
With my excellent hearing, I could hear the conversation through the phone.
“Angelo Gaston’s office,” said a cheerful voice.
“I found the place,” the intruder said, and I caught a whiff of a dog scent. My fists clenched. The werewolf asshole had tracked us down.
“Excellent,” the woman said. “Did you get him?”
“He’s in a panic room. I need the pass code.”
“I don’t have it.”
I nearly sighed with relief.
“Then get it for me,” the werewolf said, surly.
“Mr. Gaston won’t be awake for at least another hour or two,” she said sweetly. “Shall I leave him a message?”
He swore softly under his breath. “No, no message. I’ll call Taylor when his naptime is over.”
“Very well, Mr. Anderson,” she said, and the call terminated.
So the wolf was Anderson, the vampire hunting Michael was Taylor, and they were going to descend on us like vultures as soon as it was time for the vampires to wake up.
I dressed him as he slept, edging first the underwear and then the pants up his legs. The button-up shirt was a bit more work, but I managed it, keeping my movements as quiet as I could. I kept glancing at the clock as I worked, waiting for the time to click over. What time did Michael wake up? Six? Six-thirty? Seven?
Outside the room, the man leaned against the door, whistling. He thought he was going to wait for the goddamn pass code and flush us out, but I wouldn’t give him that chance.
I straddled Michael’s chest and put my hand over his mouth, anticipating his awakening. I must have sat there for ten minutes, staring intently down at him, waiting for the flutter of his eyelids.
A few minutes later, his eyes flicked open and dilated, staring up at me. I leaned over him and pressed a finger to my lips, hoping he’d be awake enough to understand.
He paused for a moment, then nodded. I felt his teeth elongate against my hand at the same time that I felt his erection swell against my hips.
I leaned down to his ear, whispering low enough that the werewolf wouldn’t be able to detect my voice. “There’s a werewolf on the other side of the door. If he hears us, we’ll lose the element of surprise.”
I removed my hand, and he reached up to grasp the back of my neck, pulling my ear down to his mouth. “That’s the only way out of here.”
I nodded. I knew that. I leaned in again, unable to resist brushing my tongue against the shell of his ear. “I’ll take care of him.”
He grabbed my arm as I tried to slide off him, jerking his head in a quick, angry shake. He didn’t like the idea of me taking out the werewolf? But I was the predator. I was the strong shifter. I flexed my hand, showing him the claws ready to pop out from my fingertips if I let the shift take over.
He shook his head violently again. “Ruby, no,” he mouthed.
I turned away, heading for the door on tiptoe. I kept the finger to my lips, ensuring that Michael would remain silent, even if he didn’t like my idea. Behind me, I heard his hand swish through the air, no doubt trying to get my attention and tell me what a bad idea this was.
But all of my attention was focused on the door. I could occasionally hear the wolf shifting his weight and the quiet clicking of keys on his phone. Texting? Web surfing? Getting the pass code even now?
My hand on the handle, I moved it down by silent millimeters until it had turned completely. Then I pushed the door open as hard as I could, using all of my weight to shove it backward with force.
The man leaning against it went sprawling on the other side. I heard the smack of his skull and his groan of pain as he was thrown against the opposite wall.
I leaped onto him. He’d fallen on his stomach, one hand cradling his head. I moved over his back, grabbed his hair, and slammed his head back onto the floor.
His head made a sick thud, and he went still.
“Damn,” said Michael behind me. “When you said you were a predator, you weren’t kidding.”
We used the bedsheets to hog-tie the werewolf on the bed, then locked him inside. Now no one would be able to get to him unless they had the pass code. Michael looked reluctant to abandon him, but I explained that as soon as he awoke, he’d start chewing through the bonds anyhow. Our goal was to get Michael to safety.
I changed to my jaguar form and led the way. Michael’s other place and my house would probably be too vulnerable, so we’d head to my sister’s apartment. It was on this side of town, and I hoped she wouldn’t be too peeved when I showed up with a vampire and a bounty hunter on our tails.
Either way, she’d at least have clothing for me. I was getting rather tired of being naked.
I’d wanted to stick to the alleys and shadows, but Michael shook his head. “It’ll take too long. Between that and the fact that they have a tracker, they could find our trail.”
He had a point.
He put the pink bow collar on me, and while I hid in the nearby alley, he went into a nearby business to call a cab. When the cab driver saw us, I thought he was going to drive away, but Michael offered enough cash that the man let me into the backseat, although he kept the glass divider up and shot me nervous looks the entire time.
I did my best to appear as meek and house-cat-like as possible. Michael stroked and petted my head as we drove, his calm masking the nervousness we both felt.
As the car pulled up to a stop sign, Michael tensed, looking out the window. “Wait,” he said to the cab driver. “Can we stop here?”
I lifted my head from his lap, confused.
The cab driver looked at the stop, then back at me hesitantly. “I’m not sure—”
Michael pulled out his wallet and extracted several bills, waving them at the cab driver.
“You got it,” the driver said, pulling into a nearby parking lot. “I’ll wait here.”
The cab was put into park, and Michael opened his door and jumped out. He gave a tug to my leash, indicating that I should follow. “Come, Ruby. I’ve got something to show you.”
As I slunk out of the cab, I heard the cab driver mutter the word “crazy” under his breath. I could see how Michael wasn’t looking like the sanest person right about now. We’d stopped on a side street, with a chain-link fence dividing us from a nearby park. It looked familiar but not so much that I understood why we were there.