“Hey,” I said as nonchalantly as I could manage while trying to keep from staring at his bare chest. I crossed my arms to keep my fingertips from going exploring.
He looked up at me from under lowered lashes. “Hey.”
I waited to see if he’d say more, but he started to fidget with a little bubble of paint on the door frame, his brows coming together in a frown as if he was concentrating intently.
“So . . .” I prompted. “What do you want?”
He shrugged. “You know. I just wanted to see if you were doing okay. If you needed anything.”
I waited a beat. “And?”
He huffed and gave me an irritated look. “And I wanted to say . . . You know . . .”
“Nope, sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know. So if you have something you want to say, go ahead. Otherwise, I’m going to bed.”
“I wanted to apologize,” he said in a rush. When I didn’t immediately respond, he finally met my gaze. “Did you hear what I said? I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“Do you have anything to say?”
“Not really.”
He ran his hand through his hair, giving me a great look at those biceps in action. “I’m trying to apologize here, Trish,” he snapped. “You’re not making it easy.”
“Nope,” I agreed. “I’m not.”
At this, his dark expression suddenly cleared and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. He cursed under his breath, shaking his head. “Fine. All right. I get it. I was an ass. I shouldn’t have made it seem like I didn’t care about what you’ve been going through.”
“Thanks.”
He nodded toward my room. “So, you gonna be okay in here tonight?”
I started to assure him that I was fine, but hesitated. A fact he picked up on immediately. He was already wearing a doubtful expression when I gave him a shaky, “Oh, yeah. Of course!”
Without a word, he grabbed my hand and led me to the bed. “Climb in.”
“You really don’t have to tuck me in,” I demurred, even though having him there had instantly calmed my nerves.
He pulled the covers up over me, then flipped off the overhead light. For a moment, I wondered if he was planning to leave without so much as a “good night,” but then he came back to the bed and stretched out beside me, propping himself up on his elbow so he could peer down at me. “Go ahead and go to sleep, doll,” he said. “I’ll stay right here with you.”
My heart began to pound. “Nicky,” I said, a little breathless, “really—you don’t have to—”
He put a finger to my lips, silencing my protestations. “I know I don’t have to,” he replied. “Maybe I need this, too.”
I held his gaze for a long, supercharged moment. But when the air began to crackle with tension, I swallowed hard, and turned onto my side, putting my back to him. I could still feel his gaze on me for a few minutes longer, but then he put his head down on the pillow next to mine and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into the curve of his body. I tried in vain to ignore the nearness of him, to not think about the thin barrier of cotton material that separated my back from his chest. And I wondered what would happen if I rolled over to face him.
But before I could give it a try, his hand found mine in the darkness, his fingers twining with mine, and he pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. “Good night, doll.”
If there’d been a window of opportunity to see where things would go, he’d just closed it. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Good night, Nicky.”
I woke slowly, gradually becoming aware but not sure what had awakened me. I opened my eyes and scanned the room, searching the heavy shadows. Birds chirped outside the window, alerting me it was morning, but thanks to the blackout shades, the room was still plunged in darkness. I also heard soft snoring. Frowning, I turned my head and saw Nicky lying on the pillow beside me. He was still dressed and on top of the covers, but his arm was lightly draped across me.
My stomach did its little fluttery thing at the realization that instead of leaving once I’d fallen asleep, Nicky had stayed at my side while I slept, watching over me and keeping me safe. If someone had told me a week ago that I’d be in Nicky Blue’s house, sleeping in bed with him, I would’ve called her a liar—plus another couple of names that were even less complimentary. Then again, if someone had told me a week ago that I would be jumped by vampires, attacked in my apartment by a seriously pissed off ghost, and psychically invaded by Dracula himself, all in the same week, I wouldn’t have believed that either. Guess life was just full of surprises. . . .
Feeling a sudden shift in the air, I shook off the last remnants of sleep and squinted into the darkness. There was a heaviness in the room that I couldn’t quite place. All the hairs on the back of my neck jumped to attention, and my blood went cold. No, wait—it wasn’t my blood. It was the temperature in the room itself that had plummeted several degrees. Next to me, Nicky shivered in his sleep.
I swallowed hard, then whispered, “Nicky!” My breath came out as a frosty mist that curled before my eyes.
Shit. Not good.
In a panic, I tried to get up, but I was completely paralyzed. I tried to call out to Nicky again, but all that came out was a strangled rasp. As I lay there, completely helpless, the shadows swirled and shifted, slowly taking form as they moved toward the bed. A moment later, the silhouette of a woman took shape at the end of the bed. I felt the mattress dip down by my feet as the shadow-woman put one knee on the mattress and then another and began to creep toward me.
In the next moment she was straddling me, her face just inches from mine. I was trembling so violently, I couldn’t believe the shaking hadn’t woken Nicky. As if the phantom had heard my thoughts, she glanced over at where he lay, then ran a ghostly finger from my forehead down along the bridge of my nose until she reached my lips. “Don’t bother trying to call for him,” she said, her voice edged with amusement. “He can’t hear you. It’s just you”—her finger continued down my chin and along the edge of my throat—“and me.”
I wanted to look away, close my eyes, pretend this was just a dream, but I couldn’t. It was as if she was controlling me.
She chuckled, a low, throaty sound. “No, silly girl, it’s not me controlling you.” She bent forward until her lips were near my ear. “It’s the master,” she whispered, her breath an arctic blast on my skin. “You tasted the blood of one of his children. And now you are his.”
My eyes went wide, remembering how, in desperation, I’d bitten the vampiress the other night, how her blood had flooded my mouth when my teeth had broken her skin.
“You weren’t the one he was hoping for,” she giggled, “but after meeting you face to face last night, he thinks you’ll be a lovely addition to the family.” She shifted and pressed her lips to mine in a slow kiss, then grinned down at me. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun. . . .”
She turned her head to regard Nicky for a moment, her blond hair sweeping across my face. “What do you think,” she taunted, “should we bring Mr. Blue into the family, too? He’d be such a delightful plaything for the other girls. So handsome and strong.” She giggled again and gave me a lascivious wink. “They’d enjoy sucking him dry in more ways than one.”
Fury so powerful engulfed me, it shattered the hold over me. My arm shot up and grasped her throat, and I flipped her onto her back, now sticking my face into hers. “You and whatever vampire whores Dracula has recruited will stay the hell away from Nicky Blue, or you’ll have to deal with me.”
The ghost merely laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement before she dematerialized and re-formed beside the bed, safely out of my reach, proving just how empty my threat was. She adjusted her fluffy pink sweater and pulled her miniskirt down a notch before giving me a patronizing grin. “I’ll be seeing you soon, sweetie!”