Chapter 9

Ican't put it off any longer. Every pair of underwear is dirty, and going commando at work is just not something I'm comfortable with. Steeling my spine, I haul my hamper into my arms and trudge up the narrow stone path toward the house. If I had planned better, I would've done my laundry while Elaine, Mike, and Wyatt were playing bingo at the nursing home.

It's the only group activity of theirs that doesn't end in bloodshed, primarily because they don't like the taste of "old blood."

Wyatt once compared it to hot cow piss. I didn't ask how he knew that.

"Knock, knock." I say the words as I slowly open the door.

"Ah, Naomi," Elaine calls from the living room in a cheerful tone that instantly puts me on edge. "How are you?"

How am I? She has never, not once, asked me that question. What the hell is going on? "Uh, fine. Thanks." I lift the hamper up to my chest. "Just doing some laundry."

Elaine's eyebrows lift, and her mouth tightens around the corners. It takes a second, but it's clear what she wants.

"How are you?"

"We are having a fabulous night. Yeah," she replies, bouncing in place.

"Come, Naomi," Mike says from the couch. "You must hear of our brilliant dinner plans."

I drop the hamper in the hallway and let Elaine drag me by the arm into the living room. All three of them look like they've just won the lottery, and part of me wishes their dinner was sprawled out on the floor with several deep holes in their neck, like it usually is, because whatever they have planned must be worse.

Mike opens his mouth to speak, but then waves a hand at Wyatt. "Wyatt, you tell her."

"One of the geezers at bingo started telling me about these food delivery applications that are available on phones."

Yikes. This is painful.

"He showed me how to set up an account on Elaine's phone," Wyatt continues, his face flushed with excitement. "So we ordered a pizza…" He starts laughing so hard he can't speak.

"A buffalo chicken pizza, of all things," Elaine adds, also very amused. "Can you imagine?"

I can, but sure. Whatever.

Wyatt's face is beet red as he tries to calm himself. "The delivery person is going to show up here, thinking he's dropping off our meal, when really," another burst of laughter, "he'll be the meal."

Mike holds up Elaine's phone. "Behold, we can follow his journey in real time. He shall arrive in twelve minutes."

I'm still waiting for the punchline because that can't be it. "So, to be clear, you're going to drain him when he arrives? Or you're just going to hypnotize him to feed and let him go?"

"Why would we let him go?" Mike asks. "He's showing up at a house full of vampires. We can't be expected to show restraint."

Do they truly not understand? "What happens when he doesn't make it home at the end of his shift and the app shows his last known location was this house?"

Elaine looks at me like I've just asked her to explain quantum physics.

"What do you mean?" She stomps her kitten-heeled feet across the creaky floor and grabs her phone from Mike. "They can see us in here like we can see them?"

"Yes."

This spectacular moron holds my fate in her hands. It's so unfair.

"Wyatt, did the old man with the suspenders tell you about this?"

Wyatt pouts as he plops down on the couch next to Mike. "No. Don't you think I would've remembered that?"

They start bickering like children, giving me the chance to slowly back out of the room and grab my hamper. After I've started the wash, I creep upstairs to find them still yelling at each other.

"I can't cancel the order!" Mike yells at Wyatt as he glares at the phone. Wyatt tries stealing the phone, but Mike continues batting his hands away. "This dunderhead keeps saying a lack of hunger isn't an acceptable condition for a refund."

"Give me the phone," Elaine demands, holding her hand out. "I told you we needed to consult a young person first. This whole night has been a complete wash."

I have no interest in being present when they come up with a plan B, so I wait until Elaine's back is turned, and slip out the front door, hoping this scheme is over by the time I need to move my clothes into the dryer.

When I get back inside my trailer, I find Felix hopping up and down on the kitchen counter. He looks delighted to see me, or he's just hungry and wants me to open the cabinet above his head that contains his peanut stash. I choose to pretend he's happy to see me. "Okay, okay. Hold your horses." I pour out the remnants of the jar, which is only about five peanuts, and he actually tilts his head at me, as if to say, is that really all you've got?

"I'll get more tomorrow. I promise."

My phone beeps from the nightstand, and I discover a text from Kyan.

Kyan: Can I see you? I need your help.

He needs my help? On a weeknight? That seems odd, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little intrigued by the request.

Admittedly, I think I'm developing a bit of a crush on him. Maybe more than a bit. It's stupid and dangerous and can only end badly for me, but I can't deny it anymore.

Spending every day with him at the office and watching for him on the cameras Quincy and I installed certainly isn't helping. I've developed this Pavlovian response since I started watching the footage, and now whenever he shows up on my screen, I can practically feel my pupils dilating.

I haven't learned anything from the footage that seems worth passing along to Elaine. Other than the few times I've seen Kyan coming and going from that same locked door, no one else goes in or out. There was the night earlier this week when a white cargo van drove through the lot around midnight, seemingly from a lower parking level than I knew existed and returned just after four in the morning. There was a blonde woman driving, but I couldn't see anything inside the van. It seemed like a lousy lead to pursue.

Watching him through the security cameras clearly isn't getting me anywhere, so maybe the best way forward is to actually spend time with him. After all, I wouldn't have found out he's a shifter if we didn't get high together. I could also try breaking the lock on the door, but that can happen later.

Sure. Can you fly or walk here though? I don't want my cell mates to see your car in the driveway.

Kyan: Why not?

Because they're working with a cop who hates you and wants to destroy you and your family.

Because Elaine is an asshole and will probably barge in on us.

Because they're currently expecting a pizza guy to arrive whom they plan to eat.

About a million reasons come to mind, but none that I can tell him.

Because they're nosy, and I don't want to deal with their questions.

Kyan: Fair. I'll fly.

I wonder what it would take to convince him to take me for a ride.

Kyan: Be there in ten.

My stomach flutters with anticipation.

Oh wait! Can you bring peanuts? Asking for a crow.

Kyan: Which one of you is the owner and which one is the pet? It seems like he's calling the shots.

I giggle as I read. He's not wrong.

Rude. I like to think of us as equals.

Kyan: The wild bird in your house has developed a taste for gourmet peanuts.

This is the playful version of Kyan I was expecting at work after the night we got high.

What can I say? We're a pair of bougie bitches.

My breath stops as the three dots appear then disappear. I expect a sarcastic response. More silly banter. An amused grin tugs at my lips at the thought of him overthinking what to say next.

Kyan: I'll be there soon. Thanks for this, by the way. I really appreciate it.

It's not the response I thought I'd get. This is way more heartfelt. Genuine. I wonder what's going on inside his head.

Several minutes pass before I hear a soft knock at my bedroom window. I gesture for Kyan to come around to the front door. When I let him in, his hair is more disheveled than it was earlier at work, and there are dark circles under his eyes. Despite the slightly unkempt appearance, he still looks like he's too beautiful for this world.

"You didn't have to sneak up to my window like a teenage boy," I tell him when he removes his jacket and drapes it across the back of the chair in the kitchen.

"Well, you said you preferred to keep me hidden from your cell mates," he replies as he brushes a lock of hair off his forehead. How does an alien dragon end up with such soft looking hair? I need to ask what products he uses. "I'm just trying to stay on your good side."

I have to pat the spot on the couch next to me before Kyan takes a seat. Why is he so shy all of a sudden?

"What's going on? You said you needed my help. Is everything okay?"

He clears his throat. "Yes, fine. I just…I've had trouble sleeping lately, and when I thought back to the last time I slept well, it was the night I was here."

Oh my god, is he about to request a slumber party? I couldn't say yes to that, right? No. No. That would be wrong. Even though I think I'd really like to say yes.

"I wondered if you had any of those special baked goods on hand?"

Wow, buzzkill. "Ah, so I'm your assistant and your drug dealer now? Is that how it is?"

He smiles and the gleam of those perfect teeth wipes away my disappointment. "I apologize if this puts you in a tough position. Please feel free to say no if you're uncomfortable."

I feign annoyance as I get up and grab the glazed lemon loaf from the cabinet. "Made this a few days ago. It's all yours." Why did I make it? I like baking, but mostly because I was hoping for this exact situation to arise.

"Mm," he groans as he takes a deep whiff of the sweet bread. "This smells heavenly." Then he looks over his shoulder and asks, "And this has the weed, yes?" which makes me really feel like a drug dealer.

I nod. "It does. You'll sleep very well on it."

"Thank you, Naomi."

The silence that sits between us stretches on, and I'm not sure what to do. "Is that it, then?"

He looks surprised by my question. "Oh, am I interrupting your evening plans? I can go." Kyan gets to his feet and grabs his jacket off the chair. He pauses to look at the bulge in his coat pocket. "I almost forgot." After pulling a can of peanuts out, he hands them to me.

"Well, no. You're not interrupting," I say, taking the peanuts and pouring some on the countertop for Felix. "My plans are limited to laundry. If you want to stay…stay."

He holds my gaze, one side of his soft mouth curving upward. "I'd like that."

It doesn't take long for Kyan to devour the entire lemon loaf, and within an hour, he's high off his ass. Felix keeps flying across the length of the trailer and landing on Kyan's shoulder or head, and he giggles gleefully like a child at a petting zoo. Knowing how entertained he is by my crow buddy, I sneak over to the house to put my clothes in the dryer. There's an unfamiliar car parked out front, which I assume is the delivery guy's, and my suspicions are confirmed when I walk in and find a trail of blood from the living room to Elaine's bedroom down the hall.

I hope their idiotic plan gets them in all kinds of trouble when this guy is reported missing.

When I make it back to the trailer, I stumble at the sight of my boss. Between when I went to the house and now, his skin turned a rich shade of cerulean, and he has thick black horns jutting out of his head just behind his hairline.

Kyan doesn't notice my reaction as he stares in wonder at the watermark on my ceiling. "Naomi, have you ever noticed how much that spot looks like a donkey on roller skates?"

"Whoa, what the hell happened here?" I lean over him and put my hands on either side of his face. He's beautiful. Absolutely mesmerizing. "Is this what you really look like?"

He reaches up and strokes the tip of his left horn before nodding. "The weed must have caused me to unmask." Shame fills his gaze, and I watch as the blue starts to fade.

"No, no! What are you doing? Don't make it go away."

At my request, the blue returns. My eyes trail over his face and neck as I notice little parts of him that shimmer or fade into a lighter blue just above the neckline of his shirt. What does the rest of him look like? Saliva fills my mouth at the thought.

"You like it?" he asks, his voice quiet and uncertain. It's not a version of his voice I thought existed since he only ever projects arrogance. But he's so vulnerable in this state. It makes me think I'm one of the lucky few who's gotten to see him this way.

"How could I not? Your skin…" I stammer, trying to find the right words. "It's gorgeous. I've never seen a color like this. So much depth." My gaze lifts. "And these horns are insane." They're so wide, and the way they curl back reminds me of an ibex. I reach up to lightly touch the sharp point of one, marveling at how easily he could impale someone by just tipping his head back. "It's hard to believe you're real, even though you're sitting right in front of me."

I notice in that moment that I'm practically in his lap. I'm not sure how it happened, but the discovery leaves me frazzled and somewhat embarrassed. "Uh, let's go for a walk," I say, straightening to my full height and tugging on the bottom hem of my t-shirt just to give my hands something G-rated to do.

Kyan looks dazed enough to not have noticed my intimate lean. "A walk? Okay."

I take him down the narrow dirt trail through the woods until we end up at the abandoned bridge. The ground is soft from the recent rain, but not so muddy that boots are required. Wind whips through my hair, and I find myself glad to be a vampire, if only in the sense that cold weather no longer affects me. The coats and gloves and hats are just accessories to blend in during winter. We lean over the guardrail and watch the angry ripples of the river below.

"Do you come out here often?"

"Yeah, it's a good place to think. It's also a good place to not think," I amend. "When I'm depressed, I can watch the movement of the water and let my thoughts fade away."

He sighs, a contented, relaxed sound. "It is quite peaceful."

I chuckle as I look over at him. His fists are stacked on top of each other against the rail, with his pointy chin resting on the top one. Slowly, his blinks turn into fully closed eyes, and I wonder if he could fall asleep in this position.

They pop open suddenly, and he grabs his phone from his back pocket. I try to avert my eyes, but I can't help but notice it's a text from someone named Yvonne.

Is he seeing someone? I suppose it's none of my business. Who is she though?

"Is there somewhere you need to be?" The words come out before I can stop them. I wasn't able to read the text, so for all I know, Yvonne is mated to one of his brothers. But the petty, jealous part of me is desperate to find out who this person is and why she's texting him so late.

"Nope," he says after reading the text and returning the phone to his pocket.

My chin lifts at the knowledge that he left her on read while he's here with me. I kind of hate myself for feeling that way, but I can't deny it.

"You look tired," I tell him, nudging his arm. "Let's head back."

As he goes to turn, he steps on a large rock and stumbles a bit. Reflexively, I rush to his side, and he leans into me as his arm drapes across my shoulders. "Easy there, boss."

He makes an adorable sound that resembles "whoa," but jumbled, and brushes his knuckle against the tip of my nose. "Where would I be without you?"

Oh brother, this man is as high as a damn kite. Should he fly home in this state? What if he gets dizzy in midair and crashes into a tree?

By the time we make it back to the trailer, I decide it's best he stays here. I practically had to carry him back, and since he's about two feet taller than me and, I would guess, an additional buck-fifty in pure muscle, it was a struggle despite my strength. There's no way he's launching himself into the sky.

I get him over to the bed, and he flops onto his back with his eyes already closed. Carefully, I remove his shoes and drape a throw blanket on top of him before climbing in on my side. Using two of my supremely fluffy pillows, I create a barrier between us, so there's no funny business. Not that I expect him to ravish me in the middle of the night. I just don't want to end up with the same weird tension we had after last time.

Not long after I drift off, I hear Felix let out a few soft caws, alerting me to the fact that I forgot to open the window for him, but I'm too comfortable to get up, so I turn onto my other side and hope he finds a comfy spot on the couch or windowsill to hang out until morning.

"Mm."

A soft rumble against my ear rouses me. It must be morning, because I can feel the sun peeking through the blinds and shining on my face. A tickle forms inside the tip of my nose––a clear sign I'm about to sneeze––but I burrow deeper beneath the blankets, refusing to get up just yet. I'm so comfortable in a way I haven't felt in a long time. When did this ancient bed get so comfortable?

When a large hand flattens against my upper back, I become extremely confused. My eyes fly open, and I realize my cheek is pressed against Kyan's bare blue chest, and his arms are wrapped tightly around me.

I have to stifle a gasp so as not to wake him, but inside I'm screaming. The pillows that separated us are on the floor, along with Kyan's button-up shirt and undershirt. How did we get here? Am I responsible for this? Did my body seek him out while I was asleep? My gaze lands on the folded edge of something gray…and…shit, it's his pants. Is he…naked under the blankets?

I shouldn't look. I really, really shouldn't.

As I go to lift the blanket for a peek, he awakens, and immediately wears the same frantic expression I'm sure I'm wearing.

"Naomi?" he stammers, rubbing a hand down his face as he looks around the room, then beneath the sheets. "What, um…?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," I interrupt because I know what he's thinking. "But I'm certain nothing happened. You were high, but I wasn't, and I'd sure as shit remember if something happened between us."

This is awful. I can see the panic etched deep into his angular features, and I cover my face with my hands as I envision how much worse things will be than they were last time. He'll give me the cold shoulder, or not talk to me at all. Eventually the work will suffer, and it'll be so awkward between us that he'll fire me, and I'll never see him again. Now that I know what it's like to be in his arms, I can't let that happen. I don't want to lose him.

Why did I bring him over to the bed? I should've left him on the couch. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Naomi," he says in a soft voice.

"I don't know how..." If he's trying to calm me down, it won't work. I've fucked everything up, and if Elaine is awake and comes over here before he leaves, I don't even want to think ab––

"Naomi, come here."

His hand is warm as it caresses my back. I feel him reach for me, wrapping his long fingers around my wrist and prying it away from my face.

When I turn to face him, his smile is warm, and there's longing in his eyes.

"Don't apologize," he says, crooking a finger under my chin. "I don't care how it happened, and I don't want you to think of this as a mistake, because it wasn't for me."

I don't realize my breaths are rapid and shallow until I struggle to talk. "Are you sure?"

I want him to be sure. We shouldn't do this. It's a terrible idea to go down this path, and I think we both know it. But fuck, I want to more than anything.

He nods. "I'm sure." Then he leans back in bed and opens his arms. "I want more."

My body reacts before my mind can stop me. I sink into the warmth of his embrace and sigh as I drop my head to his chest. He runs a hand down my back, and I'm surprised to find his touch so comforting. There's no trace of Crankenstein in the way he holds me, like a hurricane could knock down the walls around us, and I'd still be perfectly safe. My eyelids get heavy as the steady beat of his heart thumps beneath my ear, and the rest of the world fades away.