Lifestyles of the Rich and Undead (5 page)

I clutched my tiny purse and, with Ryder at my side, approached the table as if it would bite. I sat with a thump, my heart hammering. The table was in the farthest corner of the room, dark and secluded and tucked away from the other tables.

Maybe I should back out. I wasn’t really ready to date again, even after four years. Michael had been perfect for me, except that he hadn’t been a shifter. If I was still thinking about him this much, I wasn’t ready to move on.

But backing out now would be rude. Maybe I was just being a chicken. Maybe this Valjean would be really nice.

But he was
undead
. I mean, I was desperate, but I didn’t think I was
that
desperate.

I glared at her as she handed me the blindfold.

“I really appreciate you being such a sport about this,” she said, her smile evident in her voice as she covered my eyes with the blindfold. Combined with the dim lighting, it ensured that I wouldn’t be able to see anyone.
Great
.

“I’m going to be just on the other side of the room, so don’t worry in the slightest. This is all totally safe. Go get ’em, tiger,” Ryder said and patted me on the shoulder.

I heard her shoes tap on the hardwood floor as she moved to the other end of the room. With my eyes covered, my other senses, already acute, flared to life. Someone at the bar was laughing in a low, husky voice that wobbled as if she’d had too much to drink. A man murmured in the drunk woman’s ear. I could hear the tap of Ryder’s fingertips hitting her phone as she texted someone. My sense of smell was heightened, too, though I was doing my best to ignore that. The scents of everyone who had walked past the table recently all mixed into an overwhelming cocktail that my brain couldn’t process without becoming overloaded, so I focused on small things. The sizzle of fajitas at a table somewhere in the room. That smelled good. Maybe I’d order that, provided I could eat anything while blindfolded. God, this was so stupid.

Well, it was just one date. I’d politely get through the evening, and then we’d go our separate ways, and maybe I’d date a nice were-hyena next.

Or maybe not. That was the problem with being an apex predator. Smaller creatures had dominance issues. When I’d been around other guys, they hadn’t been interested in a shifter who was dozens of times stronger and more dangerous in cat form than they were. It did terrible things to the male ego. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to play down my strength or pretend to be a simpering female to appease some guy’s insecure ego.

I’d never been able to just be me with a guy. I’d had to keep a distance on so many things, even with Michael. I hadn’t introduced him to my family when he’d asked. They were complicated, I’d told him. When he’d invited me to move in with him, I’d declined—I needed the ability to come and go as the predatory instinct struck me. I’d been such a shitty girlfriend to him, yet he’d been patient and understanding.

Until the day my father told me to end it with Michael, or he’d end Michael to protect me. It was Jayde’s idea to have him catch me in bed with another man, and she’d volunteered her sometime-boyfriend, Thad. Then Jayde had set Michael up, inviting him to go to my dorm that evening for a surprise.

He’d seen a surprise, all right. He’d thrown my key down, declared that we were through, and slammed the door. Seeing his face stark with betrayal had destroyed me. He hadn’t heard my sobs as he’d stormed down the hall, sobs that any shifter would have picked up. And I’d known that, even as I’d known it was for his own good.

I took a gulp of water, trying to dislodge the knot in my throat. Four years and I still hadn’t moved past it. Maybe because I spent so much time alone at my job. In the slow moments, I thought about Michael. I wondered what he was doing. I had searched for him online at every social-networking website, but he was nowhere to be found.

Maybe if I could find him, his hair receding, his gut paunchy, in a picture with a wife and two kids, that would cure me of my obsession.

I scowled. How sad and pathetic I was to be mooning over a human—a human! Maybe I needed to be more like Jayde. At least she got around. And she dated everything—wolf, lion, tiger. You name it.

Well, I thought with a grimace, not vampires. Jayde drew the line at that.

I heard footsteps, then the swish of clothing that told me someone was approaching. The air shifted and I caught an appealing new scent: spicy, with a hint of sweetness, mixed with the perfume of human flesh. I immediately stiffened.

My vampire date was here.

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2012 by Katie MacAlister

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First Pocket Star Books eBook edition September 2012

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ISBN 978-1-4516-9718-6

Table of Contents

Cover

Lifestyles of the Rich and Undead

The Undead in My Bed - Bonus Material

Shades of Gray

Undead Sublet

Out with a Fang