Her room was small and fashioned with timber furnishings that sported green-and-red-plaid fabric on the chair and bedspread. Sure was a lot of plaid in this neck of the woods, she noted. She tossed the backpack on the bed, directed Blade to make them coffee and excused herself to the bathroom.
The blue-and-yellow dress was loud. She did need to pick up some new things. Something a little less crazy cat lady and a bit more sensual. Because she knew she was attractive, and Blade’s admiring gaze hadn’t gone unnoticed. Nor had his attractiveness gone unnoticed.
She wondered if he would flinch if she tried to touch his soft hair. She sensed that would be his first reaction. And then she wanted to test that theory because pushing him to his unknown boundaries felt important to her. To see if he could stand up to any challenge.
Because if pushed maybe he’d reveal his lies. That perhaps he clung to the fantasy of being a strange creature for reasons that helped him survive in this world. Or maybe it was simply that he watched too many movies. Believed women would go for the brooding vampire act. Ugh.
She tilted her head aside, her reflection tracing a finger down her neck. A vampire. Did he want to bite her? What would that feel like? Orgasmic, her knowledge provided on a whisper. And what was orgasmic? Had she ever had the experience of sex?
She didn’t know. And that frustrated immensely.
She hadn’t learned anything about herself out in the field yesterday. And maybe she had. Demons had been after her? Incredulous. She should have stopped to say goodbye to the old lady.
Why was he making up such an elaborate ruse? For what reason the lie? No, he was being truthful. And to test that theory she’d have to see proof.
“Fangs,” she muttered.
And once he had to confess to a lack of such telling signs of vampirism, then she could move forward. Both of them could.
Nodding once, she turned off the bathroom light and found Blade waiting with two cups of coffee in hand.
“Dark?” she asked.
“As black as I could get it.”
She glanced to the backpack. It was unopened. He hadn’t snooped. Not that she had anything to hide. Just a bunch of stolen charity clothing and that weird tin circle. And her roll of cash. His cash. Yet she didn’t feel as if she owed him for that generous gift. Was it because she couldn’t recall if she was the sort of person who had guilt?
Sitting on the bed, she shuffled closer toward the head by the pillows when Blade sat not three feet from her. Inviting him in may have been a stupid idea. She’d hoped it a means to allow him to confess. Did the victim invite the serial killer in so easily?
“I need some proof,” she said. “That you are what you say you are.”
“Will that make you believe?”
“Of course.” Or it would make him believe. One way or another, this was going to get settled.
“So you are not a woman of faith?”
“I don’t know.” She tapped her head. “Not all there, remember?”
“What kind of proof are you asking for?”
She set the coffee mug on the wood bedside table that looked as though it had been carved from an oak stump. “Whatever kind you’re willing to offer.”
She didn’t want him to be crazy. She really did not.
Sliding closer on the bed, she raised her hand to touch his hair, then decided against it. “Fangs?”
“If that’s what you need? I can do that.”
Blade tilted his head back and closed his eyes. And when he rolled his head around, his nose drew along her cheek. Her skin tingled at the barely there touch. It seemed as if he was scenting her. And when the tip of his nose dusted her earlobe she felt her nipples tighten and couldn’t decide whether to delight or be afraid of that feeling. Curling her fingers, she closed her eyes as a mix of anxiety and breathless anticipation stirred in her core.
A sharpness slid along her neck. Zen gasped in a breath. What the—? Blade’s hand grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. His mouth was barely parted, yet bright white fangs jutted over his lower lip.
“Holy... How did you put those in so fast?”
“I didn’t put them in. They are my teeth.” A wide grin revealed his fangs rising to sit even with his upper teeth, and then again, they descended into the long, pointed, gleaming weapons. “You wanted proof.”
“But... That means...” He was telling the truth? That was incredible. Impossible. Freaky. Real? “Oh, mercy.”
Zen raced for the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
After a few seconds a rap sounded on the wood door. “Zen?”
“I’m good!” she called. “Just need a few minutes to process.”
Zenia leaned forward onto the vanity, peering at her eyes reflected in the mirror. What she saw there was not fear but uncertainty.
“He’s a vampire. Those fangs were real.”
She hissed out a breath and her shoulders sank. The man was really a vampire. Because his teeth had not been fake. No cheesy white plastic dentures. He’d lowered and raised them as she had watched.
So here she stood. Processing. And to do so, had locked herself in the bathroom to put herself away from the creature on the other side of the flimsy wood door. Who could probably knock it down if he wanted to and suck out all her blood before she could manage to scream for help.
She shook her head. “Don’t let your imagination make this into something weird. Weird? Ha! The man is a vampire. Which means the mythology is real. And what makes me think all I know is real anyway?”
Of course, if vampires were real that also opened the door to other creepy critters being as real. Werewolves, ghosts and demons?
“He killed demons. There were real demons in that pink house. He was telling me the truth. And they’d mentioned me? What is going on?”
She’d fallen into some kind of creature feature. And while she should do the smart thing and run like hell, she couldn’t resist a peek down the dark stairway.
“He’s been nice to me so far,” she reasoned with her reflection. “I can trust him.” A nod confirmed her decision.
And so she turned the knob and walked out into the room. Blade leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Head bowed, his hair was tinted blue, no denying that. Was that indicative of his vampire nature?
Wow. Just wow.
“Are you going to bite me?” she asked calmly.
He smirked and shook his head. “No.”
“Why don’t you want to bite me?”
Now he laughed. “In the course of two questions you went from curiosity to fang junkie.”
“Fang junkie?”
“Women and men who seek the vampire’s bite. It gives them an orgasmic high. Sort of a thank-you for giving blood.”
Zen blew out a breath. Shook her head. She’d asked for proof. And he’d given it to her in spades. The guy was a vampire. And the more she considered it, his fangs were actually kind of cool.
She walked up to him. “Let me see them again.”
With a shrug, he opened his mouth to reveal the fangs. She touched the tip of a fang and he flinched away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Women don’t generally touch,”