Scarlet Heat Read online

  “Oh, right. I, uh, guess that’s my fault.” He gave me a sidelong look as he turned the truck onto a smaller dirt road.

  I said nothing. He could assign himself the blame if he wanted to but I wasn’t going to say anything else. I’m not going to beg, I told myself, even though his warm scent was making my thirst for blood worse and worse.

  Victor cleared his throat and killed the truck’s motor.

  “Well, here we are.”

  I looked out of the window and saw a large clearing inside a dense thicket of woods. This being Florida, there were plenty of vines and creepers too, all of them dark greenish-black in the deepening night.

  The house itself looked like an upscale log cabin—one of the two-story kind with high ceilings, hardwood floors and a fireplace in every room. The arched eves managed to look graceful and rustic at the same time and the windows sparkled silver in the moonlight.

  “It’s lovely,” I said grudgingly. “I’ve always liked log cabins.”

  “Designed and built it myself.” There was an unmistakable note of pride in the big were’s voice. “Wait ‘til you see it in the sunlight. It’s really, uh…” He trailed off, obviously realizing what he was saying. “I mean, never mind. Come on.”

  I started to open my door but he was around the side of the truck in a flash. He offered me a hand to get down from the high cab. After a moment’s consideration, I took it and stepped down onto the sparse grass of the driveway. His skin was as hot as I had imagined and I took my hand out of his as soon as I could.

  “Can I get your stuff?” Victor asked gruffly.

  I felt some of my resentment melt a little. Clearly he was at least making an effort to be less of an ass.

  “I don’t have any,” I reminded him gently. “You didn’t really give me time to pack anything.” In fact, he had dragged me away from Under the Fang with nothing but the clothes on my back—a simple black skirt and a white button-down silk blouse with black flats. It was one of the plainest outfits I owned, which was why I liked it. Celeste always liked to dress me up and show me off like a doll in expensive dresses with the most elaborate hair and makeup possible. I was glad to put that part of my life behind me.

  “Oh, sorry.” Victor rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, let’s go in. I’ll show you around and then I really have to go.”

  “Right. You have to, uh, change.” I nodded stiffly and followed him to the wooden doorframe. Victor produced a set of keys and unlocked the front door with a muted jingle. Then he stepped inside, clearly expecting me to follow.

  “Okay, so this is the kitchen,” he remarked, flicking on the light switches so that the long room was flooded with light. “I don’t guess you’ll use it much but—hey…” He turned with a frown to see me still standing in the doorway. “Why are you still over there?”

  “You didn’t invite me in.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m a vampire—I can’t enter the dwelling of a living person without an invitation.”

  “Oh, right.” He cleared his throat. “Damn it, I’m making a fucking mess of this whole thing. Uh, Taylor, would you like to come in?”

  Not really, I thought but was too polite to say out loud.

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, stepping over the threshold and into the house that was going to be my home for the next three months. “I appreciate your invitation.”

  “Sure.” Victor shrugged uneasily, his broad shoulders rolling under his plain white t-shirt. I had yet to see him in anything but t-shirts, jeans, and work boots. Except for the ill-fitting jacket he’d borrowed from Corbin for our “wedding,” that was.

  “So, like I was saying, this is the kitchen,” he continued, once I had come forward to join him. “You can, um, make yourself at home and there’s plenty of stuff in the fridge—”

  “I don’t eat,” I reminded him. I was hoping against hope that he would offer me some of his blood before he went, but I wasn’t going to ask. Not even if I starved to death.

  “Yeah, of course not. You need…need blood. My blood.” He was looking more and more nervous.

  “Only if you want to give it.” I looked down at my hands. My fingers were clenched together, the knuckles white. My throat felt like it was lined with barbed wire and my gut twisted with need. Please, I thought. Oh please…oh please…

  “Fine.” Victor seemed to come to a sudden decision. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, both hands braced on the countertop, and turned his head, baring his neck for me.

  I approached him slowly, my heart suddenly pounding. His big body was tense, the muscles standing out hard under his thin white shirt. Under his olive skin, I could see a steady pulse beating in the strong column of his throat.

  The closer I got, the more intimidating I found him. He was so massive, so alive—his muscular body pulsing with animal energy. Even though as vampire, I’m supernaturally strong, I sensed he was stronger—much stronger. He could crush me in a heartbeat if he wanted to. I could feel his heat, could almost taste his wild scent on the tip of my tongue…

  He’s so big…too big. I wanted his blood desperately—my fangs were fully extended and aching to pierce his warm olive skin. But to get close enough to feed, I would also have to be close enough for him to grab me—hurt me. My time with Roderick rose before my eyes and I pushed it back down again quickly.

  That’s over now—I won’t think about it. And Victor promised not to hurt me. Corbin made him swear an oath. It’ll be okay. Everything is going to be fine…isn’t it?

  Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to go right up beside him. But even hunched down as he was, his throat was still far out of reach. I began to wish I had worn heels instead of my sensible black flats—the four inch stilettos Celeste used to make me wear would have made getting to the tantalizing vein I saw in his neck a hell of a lot easier.

  Standing on tiptoes, I touched his arm lightly to brace myself as I tried to reach him. His biceps tensed rock hard under my fingertips and he twitched, reminding me of a stray dog uncertain how it feels about being stroked by a stranger.

  “Hurry the fuck up, will you?” he growled. “I never did like needles and this is a damn awkward position to be in.”

  It was too much—he was too big, too threatening. I lost my nerve and stepped back.

  “I can’t reach you. Maybe…maybe you should just go.”

  “No, damn it.” He straightened up and shook his head fiercely. “Just look at you—now that I see you in the light I can tell you’re in a bad way.”

  “I’m fine.” I drew myself up and crossed my arms over my chest protectively. “Just fine.”

  “Hell no, you’re not,” he said, almost angrily. “You look like a stiff wind would blow you over. You need blood.”

  He took a step toward me and I took a step back. I didn’t like the way he loomed over me—it made me feel small and trapped. It brought back memories I would rather forget.

  “I can wait until you get back.” I swallowed and heard a dry click in my throat. “Honestly.”

  “No, you can’t. You need to get some now—I’m going out tonight and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He came toward me again—and again, I backed up.

  “Why?” I made myself ask, though my heart was pounding and my lips felt numb. “Are you, uh, planning a trip?”

  He barked a short laugh. “Something like that. Sometimes when the moon calls me like she is tonight, I…it takes me a little while to come…to come all the way back.” He scowled. “I really can’t explain it more than that.”

  “Oh,” I whispered. I took another step back and felt something hard hit my hip. Casting a glance over my shoulder, I saw that I was trapped with the L-shaped kitchen counter at my back. I had literally backed myself into a corner.

  “Look,” he started, coming so close I could feel his heat radiating against my skin. He started to duck down, his face close to mine—too close. “What if I just—”

  “Please,” I whispered, my throat tight, and tur