Wanted: Undead or Alive

Page 16

She shook her head. What romantic nonsense. She’d been slapped around by reality too much to believe that souls could be destined for each other. Phineas was like any man, and they were all governed by the Three-Step rule. He couldn’t help but think about sex, and since she happened to be the only female in the vicinity, she automatically became the subject of his sexual thoughts.
She waved aside a mosquito that buzzed past her ear. “Damned bloodsucker.”
“Talking to me?” Phineas gave her a wry look.
“Should I? I thought you’d stopped talking to me.”
He sighed. “There are things in my past I’m not proud of. I’d rather be judged for the real me and not for my mistakes.”
“You think I’ll judge you?”
He scoffed. “Haven’t you already? I’m a disgusting parasite. A user. Your words.”
“What about your words? You call me Snout-Face.”
“You do have a snout when the moon is full. Would you rather I talk about your hairy legs?”
She stiffened, and her inner wolf bristled. “There’s nothing wrong with my fur. If you weren’t so ignorant about wolves, you’d know that I have a very nice pelt.”
“You’re extremely argumentative—”
“I am not!”
“And touchy. I’ve never met anyone so prickly.”
“You bastard!”
His mouth twitched as he gave her a pointed look.
Her face grew warm as a sheepish smile tugged at her mouth. “All right. I might be a little touchy. But I have good reason.”
“Then tell me about it.”
She swallowed hard. No way was she talking about her past. She needed to change the subject fast. “Hairy legs? If that’s how you flatter a woman, then you’ve got a lot to learn, Mr. Love Doctor.”
He flashed his perfect smile at her. “I was getting to it. My point is that even with your pretty snout and gorgeous legs and cheerful personality, I would never hold it against you. I like you exactly the way you are.”
She tightened her grip on her horse’s reins as her heart started to race. He likes me. For myself.
Last night, he’d admitted he was attracted to her. She’d figured that was simply lust. A common result of the Three-Step rule. But now, with this latest confession, she could no longer pretend the attraction was purely physical.
And she wasn’t sure she liked that. Lust was easy to handle. If it itched too much, you simply scratched it. But once the heart was dragged into a relationship, it always ended in heartache. Abandonment, betrayal, abuse. She’d endured them all and couldn’t bear to go through it again.
She gave him a wary look. “I suppose a Love Doctor like you has enjoyed a lot of conquests.”
He snorted. “What conquests? You heard how LaToya talks to me. She judges me on my past mistakes.”
“And you think I will?”
“Don’t you hold it against me that I’m a vampire? A disgusting parasite?”
She grimaced. “It’s not personal. I just don’t like users.”
“Have I ever used you?”
She rode in silence for a moment. She could accuse him of using his vampire allure on her, but she was beginning to question that idea. She’d lived at Dragon Nest Academy for a few months now, and she’d never felt any kind of allure from the other male Vamps she came in contact with. They were handsome guys, but they never affected her like Phineas.
She needed to face the truth. It was only Phineas who attracted her. She liked him exactly the way he was.
Did she dare tell him?
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “Do you think I’ve used you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I think you’re a . . . a good guy.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Well, I guess we found something we can agree on.”
She smiled, her cheeks growing warm. “I guess so.”
His gaze met hers and their eyes locked for a few seconds. Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she looked away.
Oh God, who was she kidding? Her heart was already involved.
A silence stretched out between them, but she could sense an undercurrent that sizzled with electric energy. This was dangerous. Feelings this intense had a way of filtering through to her inner wolf. It was becoming aware of the desires of her heart, sharply attuned to the lustful needs of her body. And once the animal inside her latched on to the scent of her chosen prey, it didn’t give up.
Phineas wouldn’t stand a chance.
Phineas stiffened as they approached the next campsite. This one was definitely inhabited. The stench of unwashed human was strong enough to knock over a moose.
Brynley wrinkled her nose as she stopped the horses. “I think whoever is camping here had a run-in with a skunk.”
He winced inwardly as he dismounted. “I’ll check it out. Stay here with the horses.”
“No way.” She dismounted quickly and tethered the horses to a nearby aspen tree. “I’m supposed to be helping you.”
“You are helping me, but I don’t want you in any danger.”
“I’m not a wuss, Phineas. I can handle myself.”
“Are you two gonna fuss at each other all night?” a gruff voice rumbled from behind a large lodgepole pine.
Phineas whipped out his automatic as he spun toward the voice.
“You call that little stick a weapon?” A huge man stepped from behind the tree, chuckling. He carried a double-barreled shotgun with the breech open. A fly buzzed around his head, and he waved it aside.
His smell wafted toward Phineas, making his eyes water. Still, he focused on the shotgun to make sure the safety catch was visible. “We don’t want any trouble, dude.”
“But we can defend ourselves if we need to.” Brynley drew her shotgun out of its leather case attached to her saddle.
The huge man tilted his head back and laughed. “Will you look at that? The little lady’s got the big weapon. I reckon we can tell who’s the boss here.”
Phineas gritted his teeth. Before he could reply, Brynley butted in.
“Who are you, and what’s your business here?” she demanded.
With a chuckle, the huge man removed his battered, sweat-stained hat and held it to his chest. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I’m Digger. Spent so many years digging for gold and silver that the name stuck. And you are?”
“I’m Bryn—” She stopped herself from saying her full name. “And this is Phineas.”
Phineas nodded at him. “What’s up?”
Digger looked up, then shrugged. “Not much. It’s been pretty quiet till you two showed up.” He regarded them as he scratched his scraggly long beard. “Are you two running from the law?”
“No,” Phineas replied. “We’re cool.”
“We just like riding at night,” Brynley added.
In the middle of nowhere, Phineas thought with a snort. They probably did look suspicious.
But Digger nodded as if it were normal. “Put away your weapons. I ain’t gonna hurt you. Mine ain’t loaded right now. And come on to my campsite. I’ve got some beans cooking.” He turned and lumbered through the woods.
Phineas holstered his sidearm.
“Should I keep my shotgun ready?” Brynley whispered.
Phineas shook his head. “He’s mortal and harmless, as far as I can tell.”
“If his smell doesn’t kill us.”
Phineas smiled. “If we get into any danger, I’ll just teleport you out.”
“Okay.” She slid her shotgun back into its case, then took the reins of the horses. “He reminds me of the old mountain men. I thought they were all gone.”
They walked the horses into the camp. While Brynley tethered them to a hitching post, Phineas surveyed the area. Three small cabins, no heartbeats inside. Digger appeared to be here alone. He was squatting and stirring the contents of a black cast-iron pot that sat on a rock near the fire. His shotgun was resting against a tree.
“So you’re camping here alone?” Phineas asked as he approached.
“Not exactly.” Digger straightened with a grunt. “I got my boy, Jake, with me. You want some beans?”
“No, thank you. I just ate.” Although this camp had cabins, Phineas couldn’t imagine Corky staying anywhere near this smelly mortal. Or trying to feed off him. Beneath Digger’s battered hat, hanks of greasy gray hair fell to his shoulders. His tattered jeans were held up with suspenders, and his undershirt had once been white, but was now stained and gray with age.
Digger nodded at Brynley as she approached. “Would you care for some beans, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.” When Digger slumped with disappointment, she added, “But they sure do smell good.”
He brightened with a smile that showed a few crooked teeth and a few more gaps where teeth were missing. “It’s my own special recipe. You gotta add some bacon fat and squirrel meat.”
She nodded. “I’ll try that sometime. Thank you.”
“Have you noticed anything odd around here?” Other than you? Phineas added in his thoughts.
Digger’s eyes lit up and he slapped his thigh, which caused a cloud of dust to puff around him. “Dagnabbit, I knew it! I knew that was why you’re gallivantin’ around at night. You’re hunting them, ain’t you?”
“Them?” Brynley asked.
“Yep. They’re new to these parts, but I’m on to them.” Digger scratched at his shirt. “I’m hunting them, too.”
“Them?” Phineas asked.
“You know the Carson ranch south of here?” Digger asked. “Two cows mutilated last week. That’s what they do, you know. They drain all the blood, then cut up the carcasses so no one will figure out what they’re doing.” He pointed to his head. “But some of us are too smart for them. We got ’em figured out.”
Phineas exchanged a look with Brynley. Had Corky become so desperately hungry that she’d fed off cows?
“I think they’re hiding in these here woods.” Digger turned his head and spit on the ground. “They’re some sneaky devils, that’s for sure. You only see them at night.” He nodded with a knowing look. “That’s why you’re riding around in the dark. You’re hunting them, too.”
“Well,” Brynley drawled. “I reckon you got us all figured out.”
He chuckled and slapped his leg. “That’s right! You can’t put one past old Digger.” His eyes gleamed as he looked Brynley over. “You’re a pretty little thing. Are you taken?”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“It’s been a while since I had me a woman—”
“She’s taken,” Phineas interrupted, and moved quickly to Brynley’s side. “We’re married.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
She stiffened, then gave him a hesitant smile. “Yes, we’re . . . newlyweds.”
Frowning, Digger motioned to her hand. “You ain’t wearing no ring.”
Her eyes widened, then she blurted out, “It’s a secret. We . . . we haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Her father doesn’t approve of me,” Phineas added.
Digger gave him a sad look. “Now ain’t that a shame? Is it because you’re black?”
Brynley flinched. “No!”
“Yes,” Phineas answered at the same time.
“Phin,” she whispered and touched his cheek. “No.”
“You know it’s true,” he whispered back. “Your father will never accept me.” If his race didn’t upset the old werewolf, the fact that he was a vampire certainly would.
The pained look in Brynley’s eyes made his heart swell with tenderness. He slipped his hand around the back of her neck to pull her closer and kissed her brow.
“Yep, you two are newlyweds, all right.” Digger chuckled. “I ain’t never seen two people so in love.”
Brynley’s gaze lifted to his with an alarmed look, and he swallowed hard. In love? Was he? Damn. If he couldn’t fool Digger, why was he trying to fool himself?
“Dammit!” Digger bellowed.
With a start, Phineas turned toward him, making sure he kept a safe grip on Brynley. “What?”
“It just makes me so damned mad! A nice couple like you, having to keep your marriage a secret. I mean, can you help who you fall in love with?”
“No.” Phineas glanced at Brynley. “I can’t.” Time seemed to halt for a second as their gazes locked and sizzled. Would she think he’d just confessed to loving her? Or would she think this was all an act?
“Of course you can’t help it,” Digger growled. “Why, my own Jake fell in love with a squirrel.”
Brynley blinked, and they screeched back to reality.
“Say what?” Phineas asked.
“You heard me. He’s in love with a damned squirrel.” Digger leaned toward them and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell him about the squirrel meat in the beans. It’ll upset him.”
“We won’t say a word,” Brynley assured him.
Digger grunted, then turned toward some bushes that were trembling. “I know you’re back there, Jake. Stop spying on us and come on out.”
There were two crazy guys? Phineas held on to Brynley in case he needed to teleport her away.
The bushes parted and a dog padded into the clearing. He was big, yellow, and dirty, but his most striking feature was the hat strapped to his head. It looked like an old leather football helmet, crowned with a layer of aluminum foil that gleamed in the light of the campfire.