Mirror: Book One of the Valkanas Clan (8 page)

My mouth dropped open, and hung there for a few undignified seconds before I snapped it shut. I crossed my arms and glared at him.

“Excuse me? Where do you get off calling me a liar, mister fake-military-student and secret vampire spy?”

He had the decency to blush for a second before he resumed glaring at me.

“That’s different. I did that to protect you, and at Damian’s request. What greater good are you serving by lying about being safe in your apartment tonight?”

“For your information, I wasn’t lying. I do have a feeling I’ll be perfectly safe tonight,” I said.

“Mm-hmm, whatever.
And when have you ever predicted the absence of something before?”

“Never.
But then again, I’d never been able to brainwash my best friend, anticipate the size and nature of an attack before it began, or know someone was going to call me before the phone even rang before either—but you didn’t seem to have a problem believing all those things were real.”

Another split-second blush crossed his face.

“So you weren’t just lying out of some stupid urge to get away from us?” he asked.

“No, though I will admit the idea of sleeping in a strange house with strange vampires isn’t exactly my stuff of daydreams.” I paused, and took a deep breath. “But—and I want to make sure I’m very clear about this—I do
not
take well to being repeatedly called a liar.” I paused. “Now are you going to drive me home, or am I going to walk?”

Tom just stared at me.

“I’m sorry,
Aly
, I was just—”

“I couldn’t care less why you didn’t believe me. You don’t know me that well, so your apology is enough.
Just don’t do it again.”

I resumed walking down the stairs, and waited by the passenger door until he had unlocked it. We rode in silence—well, verbal silence, as the concert of night noises rushing by reminded me that I wasn't likely to experience real silence ever again—until we got to my apartment. I was reaching for my door handle when he spoke.

“How much do you trust your feeling that you’re safe tonight?”

“Enough to be here, obviously,” I snapped.

Actually, the ride home had given me enough time to wonder just how stupid I was to put my trust in an ability that I didn’t understand. All my academic training told me that was complete idiocy—but then again, my academic training also said vampires were a myth developed by primitive cultures and capitalized on by Hollywood, so I wasn’t exactly eager to put my faith in those skills either.

“I’m not questioning you
Aly
, but...” He paused, running a hand through his hair.

The gesture made his arm flex, and I found myself involuntarily distracted by those taut curves for a split second before I forced my eyes away.
Still
your student, still your student
, I chanted silently, hoping my professional ethics were stronger than my hormones. At least I hoped vampires still had hormones, or else I wasn’t sure what I could blame my distractibility on.

“Would you like me to spend the night tonight?” he asked.

“What?” I almost choked on the word, my face burning now. Could he read minds?

“No, not like that.
I mean, not that I wouldn’t want to, but—damn.” He stopped, looking anywhere but at me. “I meant I’d be happy to sleep on the couch, just in case something happens,” he said. “To help make sure you’re safe. Once Damian finds out you’ve left he’ll probably call and tell me to keep watch on you anyway, and I’d be able to do it a lot more comfortably from your couch than my car. But if you don’t want my company now, after, you know,” he made a stair-step gesture with his hand, and I realized he was referring to our argument outside Damian and Valerie’s house, “then I understand.”

I glanced around his car to avoid his
embarrassed
gaze, and noticed a few books tucked behind the driver’s seat. Had Damian stuck him outside my place at night before? I suddenly flashed back on the guys that had spent the night with me over the last few years—not many, but the thought of him seeing even one made me feel awkward.

“No, I wouldn’t mind your company, as long as you don’t mind Beckett walking all over you in the middle of the night.” I glanced at the already faintly paling sky. “Or morning, I guess.”

“And Beckett would be…?”

“Oh!
My cat, of course.”

Tom grinned. “I love cats. They're one of the few animals who don't seem scared by vampires.”

“Okay.” I hopped out of the car. “Come on in.”

When we walked in, I noticed my couch was still upended against the far wall. Tom walked over and casually eased it back into its normal position. Then he turned to me, the picture of wide-eyed innocent concern.

“That’s okay, right? Or did I just ruin your new decorating experiment?”

I smirked, and walked into the kitchen to retrieve Beckett’s food. Tom followed me in, sliding a box into the fridge before I closed it.

“More blood for when we wake up. I can go a few days at a time without it, but you’ll need to drink it every day for a while, especially if you stick to the donor bags. Of course,” he grinned, and for the first time I saw his fangs extend slightly “I’m happy to introduce you to the tastier approach if you want.”

I shook my head. “I still can’t imagine actually…doing that,” I whispered. A sudden vision of me as a wild-eyed maniac latched onto some innocent neck left me queasy. “I think I’ll stick to the bags.” 

“Your choice.”
He shrugged. “But once you try it you’ll wonder why you waited so long.”

“If, not once,” I said, shaking Beckett’s bag of kibble. Tom simply quirked an eyebrow at me, then returned to the living room.

“Do you have a spare pair of sheets and a pillow I can borrow?” he called.

“The sheets are behind the first door on the left in the hallway. I’ll grab you a pillow from my room in just a sec,” I called back, stroking Beckett as he began eating. The familiar feel of his fur under my hand was so comforting I almost drifted off to sleep where I stood.

A moment later, Tom reappeared in the kitchen holding a battered stuffed bear under one arm. My mom had given her to me when I was recovering from a tonsillectomy, and I'd never given it up.

 ”So, who’s my competition?” he asked, snuggling the bear up under his chin.

“Hey! I do not recall giving you permission to go into my bedroom.” I snatched Bella away from him, tucking her under one arm, and strode past him to make up the couch.

“
Aww
, I was hoping you’d let her keep me company tonight. No fair.”

I marched Bella back to my room, changed into my
p.j.s
, scooped up two pillows and one of my spare blankets, and dumped them unceremoniously on one end of the couch.

“Good night, sleep tight, hope all the bed bugs bite,” I said, and turned to go back to my room.

“Wait,” he grabbed my wrist and tugged me back around to face him.
“Bathroom?”

“Why? Isn’t that kind of…unnecessary?”

“Not for
that
.” He mimed brushing his teeth.

“Oh! It’s the second door on the left. I’ve got a spare clean toothbrush in the medicine cabinet, if you need it.”

“Thanks.”

I turned to go again, but he still hadn’t let go of my wrist. I tugged lightly, and suddenly his face was inches from mine, his breath tickling my lips, my trapped hand pressed against his side.

“Damian’s had me watching you for almost a year, you know,” he whispered, his eyes locked on mine. “I’ve seen you in your sweats, going to that self-defense class, and in your oh-so-professional suits for important department meetings, and even in your sexy little black date dress—which I love, by the way. But I’ve never seen you look sexier than you do right now in your frayed flannel pajama pants and holey t-shirt.”

He slid one finger through the hole that was right above my hipbone as if he needed to prove the accuracy of his description. The barely perceptible brush of his finger against that rarely touched skin sent an involuntary shiver through me, and I clenched the edge of his shirt with my free hand to keep from gasping. Slowly, watching my eyes, he lowered his lips to mine.

At first I could only stand there, shocked at how my newly refined senses sharpened every element of this kiss—I felt like I was drowning in his rich wood smoke and must scent. My skin popped and danced with every slight movement of clothing or breath, and every streak of color in his eyes flared like a laser show. I felt hypnotized, everything but my mouth shocked into complete stillness. And then he ran his right hand slowly down my spine, and it was as if every muscle I’d tensed over the last twenty-four hours relaxed at once, letting a wave of delicious warmth pour through me. My arms moved up and locked around his back, drawing him closer. He gasped, and his kiss became fierce, demanding, spiking a need that poured from his lips into my entire body. The kiss became warmer, richer, and I began sucking on his lower lip. He moaned.

And then I realized that added warmth filling our kiss was blood, his blood, and that I was drinking it greedily. I dropped my arms abruptly, having to fight hard against both his arms, wrapped around me, and my sudden intense
need,
before I could push away.

“Oh god, what am I doing?” I whispered
,
horrified at the steak of blood that marked the hand I’d just pressed to my mouth.

“
Aly
, wait!”

But I was already in my bedroom, leaning against the closed door. I locked it with a shaking hand—not that I thought it would stop him if he really was determined to come in, but I hoped it would make it clear that things were
not
going any further. A second later Beckett scratched at the door, and I opened it just long enough to let him in, relocking it behind him. Then, glad my bathroom adjoined my bedroom
directly,
I brushed my teeth, tugged the blinds tight against the lightening sky, and crawled under my sheets, praying I would be too exhausted to think.

I awoke to pounding on my door, and Ava’s voice calling “
Aly
? I know you’re in there; I see your car outside. Let me in!”

I rubbed my face with my hand and grabbed my silenced cell to check the time. Two p.m.? I hadn’t slept this late since pulling all nighters on my dissertation. I stretched, calling out “I’m coming!” as I traded my pajamas for a pair of jeans and my favorite soft green t-shirt.

When my hands hit my locked door, I froze, memories from last night flushing not only my cheeks but, from the feel of it, almost every other square inch of my skin. I was not prepared to face Tom—and I was
really
not prepared to explain his presence to Ava. I opened my bedroom door slowly, wincing as Beckett made a mad dash across my feet for his food dish.

“Tom?” I whispered.

No response.

I walked out, peeking around the corner to my living room. The spare sheets were folded up, with the spare pillow and a note resting on top of them. I quickly stuffed the unread note in my pocket and the bedding in the closet,
then
grabbed my front door before Ava could start pounding again.

“Hey, what’s with the drama?” I squinted as the afternoon sun followed her in, and shut the door quickly behind her. Ugh. I’d have to ask someone whether there were any contacts I could wear to stop the instant migraines. Then I noticed the
pink
stripe on my hand from where the sun had hit it. Wow. I guess Tom wasn’t kidding about how fortunate it was that I usually wore sunscreen.