Read Fangs for Freaks Online

Authors: Serena Robar

Tags: #Vampires, #Fiction, #Horror, #Best friends, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #School & Education, #Friendship, #Fantasy & Magic, #Horror stories, #Universities and colleges

Fangs for Freaks (15 page)

BOOK: Fangs for Freaks
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“Hell of a first week on the job, Colby,” Mr. Holloway murmured.
Thomas and Carl were quick to jump to my defense but I waved them aside. This was my responsibility and I wasn’t going to let them take the brunt of Mr. Holloway’s displeasure.
“It’s certainly been a learning experience, sir.”
He looked me over and clapped his hand on my shoulder. “You’re holding up remarkably well, under the circumstances.”
It was the closest thing to praise I was likely to get and I much preferred that to screaming about my incompetence.
“A determined vampire could probably find his way inside the house if he really wanted to,” Mr. Holloway remarked and I snorted at him.
“One of the girls did it, sir. We both know that.”
He nodded in agreement and asked, “Any guesses as to who’s responsible?”
I debated how much to reveal and opted for the truth. “I am, sir. I didn’t kill Tina, but it happened on my shift all the same. I’ll find the killer.”
He nodded sagely. “I have faith in you. Keep me abreast of your progress.” He walked to the door and opened it, then paused to add, “And Colby, the shopping trip was the right move. Those two girls should not have been treated like that. Rest assured we are investigating the matter.”
And then he left us standing outside under the night sky.
“Come on, Colby,” Thomas said, pulling my hand and leading me through the backyard.
“Where are we going?” I asked, looking back at Carl, who followed Mr. Holloway into the house.
“To get a break from all this.”
He led me to his car and opened the door. I was grateful to be away from Psi Phi House for a respite but wasn’t sure if being alone with Thomas was the best medicine right now. Things weren’t right between us and I just couldn’t take another emotional confrontation.
He slid into the driver’s side and started the car. The ’68 Mustang rumbled to life and Thomas eased onto the side street. It only took a few moments to reach the freeway and soon we were barreling south on Interstate 5.
“What about Tina’s body?” I asked quietly.
“I’ve got Carl taking care of all that.” And we both stopped talking.
The silence was pretty heavy in the car; Thomas didn’t turn on the radio and neither did I. What kind of music do you listen to when you’re investigating a murder? It hardly seemed appropriate to blast Coldplay and the thought of Avril’s angst seemed shallow. I mean, did Avril ever have to investigate a vampire death? I think not.
I closed my eyes, ignoring the scenery whizzing by. I would just let Thomas handle it. It felt good to release control to someone who clearly loved to be in charge. Thomas pulled off the freeway at the south end of town, stopping the car in a large, deserted parking lot.
“Thomas?” I asked in question. This wasn’t my first choice for a feeding ground. It was the parking lot to the Fun Park, which didn’t appear to be much fun, judging by the lack of occupants.
“I am taking you miniature golfing,” he announced, catching me by surprise.
“Miniature golfing? Why?”
“Because that’s what normal couples do. They make plans to do activities together. Activities that don’t include dodging swords, memorizing vampire law or investigating half-blood murders.”
The man had a point there.
I gracefully submitted to his proposal and followed him to the front gate.
“Are they open?” I wondered aloud, not seeing any activity inside the building.
“The golf course is open to one A.M. tonight. I called ahead.”
I nodded in agreement. Of course he did. That’s what Thomas did. He made things happen by cell phone. It was one of the things I admired about him. That and his tight rear end, which I was enjoying an unobstructed view of at the moment. Thomas was old school in many ways, including his taste in clothes. Sure, he could do the layered shirt thing with the best of them but he believed that jeans should fit and fit well. No baggy pants for him and really, who could ask for more in a boyfriend?
After paying for nine holes, Thomas escorted me to the first green, a curvy sort of grass corridor leading into a windmill. The trick was to time your stroke so the ball missed the arms of the spinning fan. So easy a child could do it, right?
“You go first,” I insisted and he positioned himself above the ball.
“Have you ever golfed before?” he asked, carefully lining up his aim.
“No, I can honestly say this is my first time,” I admitted as he followed through and sent the little ball straight toward the windmill and directly into the tower. A hole in one.
“I’ll try to be gentle,” he teased softly, looking over his shoulder at me.
I smirked at him then turned my head away toward the entrance. Joking about first times made me remember our fight back in California. Piper had helped me see that I’d been pretty hurtful and childish. Immature, to coin a better term.
“You know, Thomas, I’m sorry about—”
He held up his hand to stop my apology. “No, we’re not going there right now. Now we’re embroiled in the greatest game ever played.”
I giggled at his dramatization. “Greatest game ever played, huh? Miniature golf?”
He shrugged his shoulders and clarified, “Well, golf in any form is a pretty perfect sport.”
I took my turn on the putting green and grunted. Thomas and my dad were a match made in heaven.
“Choke up a little on the club,” he coached and when I didn’t do it to his satisfaction he stepped forward to position my hands himself.
He held me from behind in a semiembrace, hands over mine, and led me through the motions of the stroke. I easily could have spent the entire night deliberately misunderstanding his pointers just to feel his body every time he corrected me. I loved the way he smelled like chocolate chip cookies, and the one thing I wanted more than anything was for things to be right between us and for him to kiss me.
“There you go. Not bad at all,” he murmured in my hair after guiding me through the swing. My eyes were closed and I was leaning back into him, not paying any attention to the ball, but I agreed with him nonetheless, “Mmmmm, not bad at all.”
He abruptly stepped away and I swayed a little, quickly righting myself. Was it fair to change a sixteen-year-old girl into a vampire, leaving her a perpetual hormonal mess for all of eternity? I think not. How could I concentrate on this stupid game if he was going to invade my personal space like that?
I lined up my second shot and hit it much harder than was appropriate, shooting the ball over two greens and past the sixth hole.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
We trotted off to the next course. This one required skipping the ball over a couple of islands surrounded by a foot of water and landing the ball on a lily pad, which was guarded by a jumping frog. I marveled at the skill it would take to achieve a hole in one and thought,
Who came up with these stupid courses, anyway?
“I’ll let you go first this time,” Thomas gallantly offered.
As I walked past him to the tee, I smartly retorted, “It seems you’re a little fast and loose with the rules of the greatest game ever played, aren’t you?”
“Maybe I just like the scenery from back here.” He offered this confession in a hushed tone and I practically whacked the fake grass off the concrete.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” I accused, shaking out my arm, which was still vibrating from the club striking the ground.
“Who, me?” he declared, wide-eyed and innocent, taking his turn with the ball. I watched in silence as he gently struck and it bounced not once, but twice and landed perfectly on the next island. We were walking over the bridge that connected the small land when I blurted out, “Have you ever wanted to bite me?”
Thomas was just stepping down from the bridge when I asked, and he tripped over the edge, stumbling into the pond.
Ten

T
homas, are you okay?” I rushed over to help him.
“What makes you ask a thing like that?” he demanded, struggling to escape the pond without getting his other foot wet. I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward me.
“Well, I just wondered if you ever felt like biting me. Like in the heat of the moment or anything.” If my face could burn with shame, it would be a deep shade of crimson.
“Colby?” Thomas asked, using his exasperated-but-must-have-details voice.
“I’ve heard some people, some
living
people think that it’s sort of a turn-on. Getting bit by a vampire.” I peeked through my lashes to check out his face.
He definitely looked uncomfortable with the turn our conversation was taking.
“Who did you hear that from?”
I blew out my breath and confessed, “One of the Tribunal Security guards. Is it true, then?”
Thomas ran his fingers through his soft brown hair and then massaged the back of his neck, obviously trying to think of how to say what he was going to say in a way I would understand.
“Well?” I prompted, starting to enjoy his discomfort.
“Well, yes. Some living and Undead enjoy the art of biting when, uh, experiencing certain intimate acts and uh, maybe I have been known to think, uh, certain thoughts about you in, uh, that way.” He finished talking and looked like he was going to faint.
“So, is that a yes then?” I questioned, looking for some clarification on the subject.
He looked at the ground, his wet pant leg and then the club. I was watching him pretty intently and thought I caught a quick affirmative nod.
“And that doesn’t strike you as a little gross? Feeding on your girlfriend?” I was certainly puzzled by the appeal.
“Col-by.” He was using that tone again and drawing out my name to sound more like a groan. Hey, I wasn’t the one with perverted biting fantasies here.
“Can we talk about this someplace more private please?” he pleaded and I turned to look around.
“We’re the only ones here, Thomas. It doesn’t get much more private than total isolation.” Really, the man had no sense of timing at all.
Finally, he gave up speaking to me altogether and pulled me roughly into his arms.
Yeah baby.
His mouth was on mine and I dropped the stupid club and threw my arms around his neck. We were pressed so closely together I could feel every outline of his body—and I mean every outline. The guy was happy to see me, if you know what I mean.
His tongue was dancing with mine, his hands were all over my back, my shoulders and my butt. After much heated making out, he smoothed his hands over my braids, captured my face and rained kisses over my lips, jawline and neck. I gripped his shoulders tightly, pulling him closer; but it was impossible to get any closer to him than I was.
I felt his mouth open and wanted to warn him not to give me a hickey (because really, they make you look so cheap) and gasped when I felt his fangs pierce my skin. This wasn’t like before, when I was attacked and brutally bitten. This was sexy, erotic and a total turn-on.
My back arched and I moaned his name. It felt like every romance novel I ever read. Okay, so I’ve read a few steamy vampire books. Like you haven’t?
This wasn’t disgusting or painful or mere feeding. This was passion between two consenting Undead. And it was HOT!
“Thomas,” I moaned again, causing him to pause and take stock of his surroundings. We were in the middle of a miniature golf island and I’d practically wrapped my legs around his waist trying to get closer to him. We might have privacy to talk but I believe we were still in full view of the freeway.
He licked my neck to seal the wound and I shivered in delight. “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand and practically flinging me toward the gate, our clubs all but forgotten by the faux frog pond. It was a mad dash to the car, with Thomas fumbling for his keys to put in the lock.
He pulled the door open with such force, he hit his knee and swore under his breath. I giggled a little watching him try to put the key in the ignition. On his third attempt, he was successful and revved the engine to life. We broke every speeding law in our haste to find privacy, true privacy. He pulled off the freeway and within two blocks, we were parked in a small numbered lot next to a quaint brownstone in the Beacon Hill area.
I was suitably cooled down by now and realized this was the first time I’d ever been to Thomas’s apartment. He led me to the security entrance and we walked to the end of the corridor. Instead of going up, we went through a door I first thought was for service stuff. Another flight of stairs greeted us and we were downstairs, in the basement. He took out his keys and opened the first door to the left and violà, we’d arrived at his bachelor pad.
I don’t know why I was suddenly so nervous. After all, I was with Thomas and trusted him completely. This was nothing like the backseat of Aidan’s borrowed Volvo. I hadn’t had anything to drink. Things were not out of control or going too fast and besides, Thomas’s kisses made my sluggish blood race.
BOOK: Fangs for Freaks
10.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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