The Undead in My Bed
Page 39“No,” I said flatly.
“He’s just nervous about his teeth,” she pleaded. Her eyes were wide, as if I were somehow being unreasonable. “You can understand that, can’t you? This is the first date he’s had in a very long time, and he’s anxious about meeting you.”
I wavered.
Sensing my hesitation, Ryder pounced. “How many Saturday nights do you get to spend with an immortal millionaire who wants to buy you dinner? Doesn’t it beat staying at home?”
She nudged the scarf at me.
Damn it. I stared at it for a moment longer, then glared at her. “He’d better be hot.”
“He’s gorgeous,” she assured me, standing up. “Come on. I’ll take you to your table.”
I clutched my tiny purse and, with Ryder at my side, approached the table as if it would bite. I sat with a thump, my heart hammering. She was right; the table was in the farthest corner of the room, dark and secluded and tucked away from the other tables.
My nostrils picked up the scent of the last couple who’d sat there—both human. No vampire in the proximity, either. I’d smelled two of them at Alliance meetings once; they had an odd, spicy scent that was impossible to get out of the nose. I’d have noticed if he’d been there. I set my purse on the table and put my fidgety hands in my lap.
Maybe I should back out. I wasn’t really ready to date again, even after four years. Michael had been perfect for me, except that he hadn’t been a shifter. If I was still thinking about him this much, I wasn’t ready to move on.
But backing out now would be rude. Maybe I was just being a chicken. Maybe this Valjean would be really nice.
But he was undead. I mean, I was desperate, but I didn’t think I was that desperate.
Ryder lifted the scarf toward me just as a human waiter set a glass of water on the table and smiled at me. He glanced at the blindfold, and his smile faded a little. “Are you ladies ready to order?”
I slid the glass closer, not making eye contact. I guess I was going to do this after all. My stomach quivered uncomfortably. “Not yet. I’m waiting for my date.”
He nodded and moved to the next table, his gaze flicking over Ryder again.
After he left, I sighed. “He thinks we’re weird.”
I glared at her as she handed me the blindfold again.
“I really appreciate you being such a sport about this,” she said, her smile evident in her voice as she covered my eyes with the blindfold. Combined with the dim lighting, it ensured that I wouldn’t be able to see anyone. Great.
“Okay, how many fingers am I holding up?” Ryder asked, waving her arm in front of my face and making her powdery perfume waft through the air.
I sighed. “One.”
“Three. Good. I’m going to be just on the other side of the room, so don’t worry in the slightest. This is all totally safe.”
“What if I have to go to the bathroom?”
“Oh. Um.” She thought for a moment. “Just don’t drink a lot.”
So much for the thought of loading up on fortifying alcohol. I drummed my fingers on the tabletop, tempted to tear the blindfold away. If he had weird protruding teeth, I’d want to see that, right?
But I’d agreed to this, and Ryder was right—I was lonely. I didn’t have anything better to do tonight than curl up with a movie. The thought was depressing.
“Go get ’em, tiger,” Ryder said, and patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll be across the room if you need me.”
I’d heard enough cat jokes to last me three lifetimes, so I said nothing. I heard her shoes tap on the hardwood floor as she moved to the other end of the room. With my eyes covered, my other senses, already acute, flared to life. Someone at the bar was laughing in a low, husky voice that wobbled as if she’d had too much to drink. A man murmured in the drunk woman’s ear. I could hear the tap of Ryder’s fingertips hitting her phone as she texted someone. Heard another person drop a fork from across the room. Heard someone at the closest table—still a good distance away—whispering about stock portfolios. My sense of smell was heightened, too, although I was doing my best to ignore that. The scents of everyone who had walked past the table recently all mixed into an overwhelming cocktail that my brain couldn’t process without becoming overloaded, so I focused on small things. The sizzle of fajitas at a table somewhere in the room. That smelled good. Maybe I’d order that, provided I could eat anything while blindfolded. God, this was so stupid.
Well, it was just one date. I’d politely get through the evening, and then we’d go our separate ways, and maybe I’d date a nice were-hyena next.
Or maybe not. That was the problem with being an apex predator. Smaller creatures had dominance issues. When I’d been around other guys, they hadn’t been interested in a shifter who was dozens of times stronger and more dangerous in cat form than they were. It did terrible things to the male ego. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to play down my strength or pretend to be a simpering female to appease some guy’s insecure ego.
I’d never been able to just be me with a guy. I’d had to keep a distance on so many things, even with Michael. I hadn’t introduced him to my family when he’d asked. They were complicated, I’d told him. When he’d invited me to move in with him, I’d declined. I needed the ability to come and go as the predatory instinct struck me. I’d been such a shitty girlfriend to him, yet he’d been patient and understanding.
Until the day my father told me to end it with Michael, or he’d end Michael to protect me. It was Jayde’s idea to have him catch me in bed with another man, and she’d volunteered her sometime-boyfriend, Thad. Then Jayde had set Michael up, inviting him to go to my dorm that evening for a surprise.
I took a gulp of water, trying to dislodge the knot in my throat. Four years, and I still hadn’t moved past it. Maybe because I spent so much time alone at my job. In the slow moments, I thought about Michael. I wondered what he was doing. I had searched for him online at every social-networking website, but he was nowhere to be found.
Maybe if I could find him, his hair receding, his gut paunchy, in a picture with a wife and two kids, that would cure me of my obsession.
I scowled. How sad and pathetic I was to be mooning over a human—a human! Maybe I needed to be more like Jayde. At least she got around. And she dated everything—wolf, lion, tiger. You name it.
Well, I thought with a grimace, not vampires. Jayde drew the line at that.
I heard footsteps, then the swish of clothing that told me someone was approaching. The air shifted, and I caught an appealing new scent: spicy, with a hint of sweetness, mixed with the perfume of human flesh. I immediately stiffened.
My vampire date was here.
“Your hand,” a low voice murmured. There was an odd quality to his voice, as if it were somehow modified.
The fangs? Maybe he was newly turned and struggled with controlling them? I pictured a vampire with buck teeth and quelled the hysterical giggle that rose in my throat.
He waited, so I raised my hand and was surprised when he leaned over it to kiss the back of it. I felt the brush of teeth and jerked away.
“I wouldn’t bite you without permission,” he rasped, his voice a bare whisper.
“You’ll have to forgive me for being nervous,” I said dryly. “I’m not a fan of the blindfold bit.”
“Yet I appreciate the gesture.”
“You should,” I said, my tone sharp. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge. I’ve never dated someone who refused to let me see his face.”
I heard his chair being drawn out, and his clothing rustled as he sat down. His hand touched mine on the table, as if he meant to hold it.
I pulled away, noticing that his skin was cooler than mine. “That’s a little forward for a first date, isn’t it? How about we talk first?”
“You look very nice tonight, Ruby.”
I tilted my head a little, puzzled. His tone sounded a little more intimate than a stranger’s should. Or was I just imagining things? “Thanks. I’d say the same to you, but…” I gestured at the blindfold.
He chuckled, and the sound made my body prickle with pleasure. Whoa. Down, girl. I’d heard that vampires could be very enticing, but that was… alarming.
An awkward silence fell again. “Tell me about you,” he finally said. “Please.”
Did he have a hint of a British accent? How had I missed that? I deflected, wanting to hear him talk more. “Oh, I’m just your average girl with a tail.”
He chuckled again. “I believe I’m supposed to ask for your ID to confirm that.”
I flipped my purse open, running my fingers over the cards in my wallet until I found one that had no raised numbers on it and offered it to him. “That’s either my driver’s license or my ID. Are my eyes open in the picture?”
“They are.” He sounded amused.
“Then that’s my Alliance ID.”
There was a moment of quiet. “Were-jaguar?”
“Yes,” I said, getting defensive. This was what usually made men run out the door. It was hard dating when your shifter side was at the top of the food chain. “Is that a problem?”
“No, just surprising. I’d have thought you were something smaller… softer. Like a were-bunny.”
I bristled. Who did this guy think he was? “Not funny.”
“Then I apologize,” he said in that same odd voice I couldn’t figure out.
“Uh-huh. I’d ask for your ID, but that seems useless, seeing as how I’m blindfolded.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">