Bite Me if You Can (18 page)

“Go ahead,” the girl said with a smile. “I’ll just do this side of the kitchen floor until you’re done.”

“Thanks.” Leigh moved to the refrigerator and opened the small freezer door, her disappointed gaze sliding over the empty shelves inside.

“Nothing?” Andrea asked as she closed the door.

“No,” Leigh admitted with a sigh. “There isn’t a thing in this house to eat unless I want to bake cookies or something.”

“Mmm, cookies. My favorite.” The blonde grinned.

Leigh smiled wryly in return and moved to the cupboard to survey the dry goods available. There was flour, sugar, oil, nuts, chocolate chips, and various extracts, but she just stared at them with frustration as she said, “Mine, too. Unfortunately, I don’t know any recipes by heart.”

“No recipe books here?” Andrea asked, her gaze sliding across the countertops as if she might spot an errant cookbook lying around.

“I don’t know. This isn’t my house, I’m just visiting,” Leigh admitted.

“Maybe there’s a recipe on the flour bag or something.” Dropping the sponge in her bucket, Andrea got to her feet and joined Leigh at the cupboard.

Leigh stepped back automatically to make way for her to reach in to pull out the flour bag, but then stopped and found herself inhaling deeply as she caught a whiff of the blonde’s perfume. While she’d been impressed with Linda’s perfume, Andrea had on a great scent, too. One with a sweet edge. Leigh closed her eyes briefly as she inhaled again. Canadians really had some exceptional perfume, she decided, breathing in deeply as the girl turned the flour bag in her hand, searching for possible recipes.

“Nothing here.” She set the bag of flour on the counter, then reached in to retrieve the chocolate chip bag as she added, “These always have recipes.”

“Yes,” Leigh murmured, taking a step closer... the better to smell her.

“Ah ha! Just as I thought, they do have a chocolate chip recipe on here,” Andrea said with triumph. “Let’s see, flour. Got that. Brown sugar and white sugar?” She paused to peer in the cupboard, then nodded. “Got that. Baking soda?”

Leigh moved closer, ostensibly to look over her shoulder and into the cupboard for baking soda, but really to get a better sniff of Andrea’s perfume. It was the most incredible scent she’d ever smelled. Tantalizing... sweet yet pungent... yummy.

She felt her stomach ripple as if in agreement, little biting cramps stinging at her. When Andrea bent slightly to check the lower shelves, Leigh found herself following and leaning in closer until her nose was a bare inch away from the back of the blonde’s neck. She inhaled again.

“There it is!” Andrea jerked suddenly upward and the back of her head slammed into Leigh’s face.

“Ouch!” both of them said at once, and Leigh stumbled back several steps, her hand going to her nose as pain exploded there.

Grabbing the back of her own head, Andrea turned to her with surprise.

“Sorry, I was trying to help you look for baking soda and got too close,” Leigh muttered, closing her eyes to hide the confusion now swirling through her thoughts. Just before Andrea had straightened, Leigh had felt her teeth slip out and had been consumed by the oddest urge to sink them into the girl’s neck. A bad instinct, she knew. Immortals were never to bite a mortal except in case of emergency. It was one of their few rules, and one she could be killed for disobeying. She had no desire to go rogue.

“Are you all right?” Andrea’s voice was full of a concern Leigh didn’t understand until the blonde added, “You’re bleeding.”

Making sure to keep her mouth tightly closed to hide her teeth, Leigh took her hand away from her nose and stared at the blood on it. She could feel more blood dripping down over her upper lip and instinctively tightened her lips to keep any from getting into her mouth.

She suddenly understood why first the redhead and then Andrea had smelled so good to her. It wasn’t a perfume she’d smelled on them, it was their blood. She seemed to be drowning in the scent at the moment and her stomach was going crazy, rippling and cramping and urging her to lick the blood from her own hand. Fortunately, she retained enough good sense not to do that. At least not in front of Andrea.

“Boy, I really cracked you one.” Andrea’s eyes crinkled with concern as she moved closer to peer at her now throbbing nose.

Leigh closed her eyes against temptation as the blonde drew nearer. She was hungry, and Andrea was the food her cramping body wanted. Her mind was screaming, Just do it. Just bite the girl and draw her warm, sweet blood into your body. It will nourish you. You’ll feel better. The pain will end.

Gritting her teeth to keep from acting on these urges, Leigh realized she had completely misunderstood Bastien’s concern about her being alone with the cleaners. It hadn’t been her welfare he’d been worried about. She probably wasn’t the first newly turned immortal to mistake her need for blood for a need for food and let it carry on until she was ready to take a bite out of the first likely mortal to come along.

And it had been a mistake. If she had realized the hunger pangs she was suffering were for blood, she would have gone straight upstairs and raided the small refrigerator in the room she’d woken up in. But she hadn’t known, and now was standing in the kitchen, unable to make herself move away from Andrea and the temptation she represented, yet unwilling to do what her body was encouraging her to do and bite her.

“Here.”

Leigh blinked her eyes open as Andrea’s hand urged her own away from her face. The blonde had grabbed a paper towel and moved in close to try to help. The only problem was, her proximity made it harder for Leigh to control the desire to bite her. She was drowning in the smell of blood, both her own and the more subtle scent of Andrea’s as it pulsed through her veins. And—Leigh realized suddenly—she could actually hear the blood pulsing through the woman, a steady throb of the nourishing red liquid that she knew would be warm and would chase away the cramps eating away at her stomach.

Realizing she wouldn’t be able to find the strength of will to move away herself, Leigh started to open her mouth to say something, anything, to make the girl move away instead. She’d barely started to open her mouth, however, when she recalled her teeth and snapped it closed again. She was quick enough that the girl didn’t seem to notice her fangs, but the moment her lips began to part, the blood that had been dripping over them slipped into her mouth. It dripped straight onto her tongue, where it seemed to explode full and sweet through her mouth, bringing her taste buds to roaring life.

Lucian woke up with a stiff neck and aching back. That was his first hint that he’d slept longer than intended. The couch in the library obviously wasn’t made for long snoozes, he acknowledged, peering around the dim, book-lined room.

Forcing himself to sit up, he slumped against the back of the couch and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, massaging the sore muscles until some of the pain eased. He then let his hand drop back into his lap and glanced toward the clock on the desk. His eyebrows jerked upward when he saw that it was now late afternoon. He had definitely slept much longer than intended.

Shaking his head, he knuckled the sleep from his eyes, his mind now crowding with all the things he had to do. There were at least three phone calls he had to make. First he wanted an update from Mortimer and Bricker on the hunt for Morgan, then a call to Thomas was in order. The man had to answer his phone eventually, and when he did, Thomas was going to get an earful. There was no way he would believe his nephew wasn’t deliberately avoiding his calls, and that simply wasn’t acceptable.

He was a member of the council and deserving of respect. There had been a time when he could have had Thomas flogged for less. Of course, that was long ago. Immortals, like the mortal world, had softened over the centuries. They weren’t as soft as today’s society, which still believed in capital punishment but no longer held with the barbaric torturers of the past.

Pushing aside his irritation with Thomas, Lucian considered that before those other calls, he should see about the cleaning service. He was surprised they hadn’t yet arrived, but was sure the doorbell would have woken him if they had.

Standing, he moved to the phone on the desk, picked it up, then paused as he recalled that he also needed to call Bastien back with Leigh’s full name so he could take care of the ID problem. Unfortunately, he didn’t yet know her full name. Deciding he’d rather make all the calls at once, Lucian set the receiver back in the phone. He really should go check on her before he started making his calls, he supposed, although it was surprising that she hadn’t already awakened and come to find him. Leigh should be starved by now.

Lucian headed out of the room, thinking he could do with a bag of blood or two himself. He was halfway upstairs when he became aware of the sound of a car racing up the driveway. Pausing, he turned back and glanced to the front door.

It was probably the cleaners, he realized, and supposed he should let them in and get them started before checking on Leigh. Raising his hands, he ran them over his face to scrub away any last remnants of sleep, then ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to make sure it wasn’t standing on end as he started back down the stairs.

By the time he reached the door, the approaching car had come to a halt in front of the house with a squeal of tires. The sound came to him muffled through the door, but his hearing was exceptional and he had no problem distinguishing the slamming of two car doors that followed. It seemed obvious the cleaners were in a hurry to set to work, though he couldn’t imagine anyone being this eager to clean.

Reaching for the door, he pulled it open before they could ring and found himself staring not at a pair of anonymous cleaning women, but at Rachel and Etienne. He blinked in surprise at the couple, his weary mind slow to understand why they would be at the door at this hour of the day. They had left after daybreak that morning, and he would have expected them to still be sleeping at this hour in the afternoon. Before he could ask why they were there, Rachel pushed past him into the house.

“Where is she?” she demanded sharply, pausing several feet past him and turning back to spear him with angry, bloodshot eyes. It seemed he was right, Rachel obviously needed more sleep.

“Where is who?” Lucian asked as Etienne followed his wife inside and closed the door.

“Leigh,” she said impatiently. “Bastien called and woke us up. He was concerned about her.”

Lucian’s eyebrows flew up on his forehead. “Why?”

It was Etienne who answered. Moving to his wife’s side, he took her hand, the action seeming to soothe her temper at once as he said, “Bastien said you were asleep.”

“I was,” Lucian acknowledged. “I just woke up a minute ago. I was heading up to check on Leigh when I heard your car. She’s still sleeping.”

“No she isn’t.” Rachel’s voice was so certain that Lucian narrowed his eyes.

“How do you know? You just got here.”

“She called Bastien around noon,” Etienne informed him, and Lucian blinked.

“Why?”

Rachel and Etienne exchanged another glance.

“I’ll explain,” he said to his wife. “Why don’t you go find Leigh.”

Nodding, Rachel leaned up to kiss him, then hurried upstairs. Both men watched her go, then Etienne quickly explained about Leigh’s calls to her restaurant in Kansas City, her call to Bastien, and what his brother had done to take care of the matter.

“When he called her back to tell her everything was taken care of, Bastien was a bit alarmed when she said you were sleeping and the cleaners were here,” Etienne explained.

“The cleaners?” Lucian said with surprise. “They’re here?”

“Apparently,” Etienne answered, and glanced to the stairs as Rachel appeared at the top and jogged quickly down.

“The only person up there is a redhead vacuuming the room you’re using, Lucian,” Rachel announced as she reached the bottom of the stairs and joined them. “She said there was another cleaner downstairs in the kitchen.”

They all turned to glance toward the kitchen door.

As if on cue, it suddenly burst open and Leigh rushed out. She hurried halfway up the hall, then stopped abruptly at the sight of the three of them standing there.

Lucian stared at her with growing horror. It seemed Bastien had been right to worry. There was blood on her face and hands, her teeth were fully extended, and her face was covered with horrified guilt.

“Ooops,” Etienne muttered, and Rachel whirled on Lucian, her face a picture of fury.

“How could you?”

“Me?” Lucian blinked in bewilderment. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Exactly,” she snapped, and turned to hurry after Leigh, who rushed past them and raced upstairs.

“And then I straightened and unintentionally slammed my head into hers. I’m afraid we hit pretty hard. When I turned around, her nose was bleeding.”

“A nosebleed,” Lucian said with disbelief.

With Rachel attending to Leigh, he and Etienne had headed straight into the kitchen. They’d expected to find either a dead cleaner or a hysterical bleeding one. Knowing Leigh wouldn’t yet have been able to control the woman’s mind, they’d expected a bloody mess. What they found instead was a completely intact blonde, calmly scrubbing up drops of blood from the kitchen floor.

Spying them, she sat back on her haunches and asked if “the lady” was all right, then proceeded to explain what had happened.

“A nosebleed,” Etienne echoed, and Lucian peered his way. They exchanged a relieved glance.

“Yes.” The blonde was still looking worried. “Is she all right? She was pretty upset when she ran out of the kitchen. I tried to help, but she pushed me aside and hissed at me to stay away from her, then charged out. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I’m sure she knows that,” Etienne soothed, and Lucian left him to it. He had never been good at the touchy-feely handholding of emotional women.

“She has a... er... phobia,” Etienne said, lying to explain away Leigh’s odd actions.

Leaving him to his good-intentioned lies, Lucian slid from the room to go check on Leigh. While he’d rather have bamboo shoots shoved under his nails than willingly put himself in the same room as Rachel in the mood she was in, he suspected not going up there would just give her something else to criticize him for. Besides, he found himself oddly concerned about Leigh’s well-being. She’d shown surprising strength by not biting the cleaner, especially at this point in her turning and with the scent of blood probably driving her wild. Most wouldn’t have had such control. But then, she’d shown an incredible amount of character already.