My Immortal (8 page)

“I didn’t see him the other night, but that sounds like him. He probably wanted to play the role of the consoling friend so she’d leave you and run into his arms. But I don’t see why he needed the weapon.”

“To put me in my place.
He hates that I changed all those souls he left to rot. His way of getting back at me is to steal the only person that matters to me.” Storm picked at a button on the arm of the chair.

“Then this thing between you is real?”

“As real as the change, the need for blood and our fangs, buddy.” Storm nodded.

“I’ll let it go, but I’m warning you. If it’s not Jamison, then someone out there figured us out and they want us gone.” Allan sighed. “Don’t mix her up in that unless you’re willing to put her through the change or take a silver bullet for her, Storm. Jamison O’Toole won’t back down.”

Storm clenched his teeth. Allan had a point, even if he wasn’t ready to concede. “I’m willing to take that risk.”
I just have to believe she’ll still love me when it’s all over.

“Then I’ll call Todd to alert him. We’ll help you in whatever way we can,” Allan replied. “Are you coming back to the Chatty Catty soon?”

“We gotta tail Bruce once more and follow another man, but I think a small vacation might be in order.”
With a sidebar in Las Vegas…

“Good for you man.” Allan laughed then sobered. “Think about what I said. She’s a special woman. Don’t screw this up.”

“I think about her all the time
But
I won’t mess things up. Now, go to sleep before the sun comes up and bakes you to a crisp.”
Or I come over there and kick your ass for butting in.

Storm snapped the device shut. He tossed her phone onto the kitchen table and flexed his hands to work out the tension. A knot the size of Cleveland twisted up his guts. Guilt flooded his mind. Stevie was yet another innocent Jamison O’Toole wanted to use for his own devious pleasure. Storm drew air into his lungs. And if there was another person out there who wanted them apart…

Storm leaned on the counter and dropped his chin to his chest. He needed sleep and he needed to explain everything to Stevie. She might deserve better than a world-weary vampire, but he couldn’t walk away if forced. Tomorrow, he’d tell her everything and pray she didn’t run away screaming.

He couldn’t fail to show her his heart and protect her from the evil in the world.

* * * *

Stevie awoke and checked the alarm clock, seven forty-eight p.m. Crap. She rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t meant to spend that much time in bed—again. She glanced at Storm who lay flopped on his stomach and practically dead to the world. He grunted in his sleep and turned over on his side, giving her a gorgeous view of his back. She longed to drag her nails down his smooth skin, but refrained. He needed his sleep, too. She and Storm had another long night ahead of them if they wanted to catch Bruce and Cherylyn in the act.

Stevie stood and stretched. She considered a wrap, but shrugged. Who was she going to run into anyway? Storm never got visitors because he refused to tell anyone where he lived, and no one knew where she was. No one really cared. Her stomach grumbled, announcing her need for sustenance. She grabbed one of his clean T-shirts from the dresser and headed to the kitchen.

She noticed her phone on the table and scrunched her brows. Hadn’t she left it on the nightstand? Stevie picked up the item in question and checked the screen. One missed call.

She pressed the buttons to retrieve the call when another came in. “Crap,” she muttered and hit the send button. “Hello?”

“Did you run away for good?”

Stevie squared her shoulders.
Her sister.
“I found a special someone to occupy my time.”

“A boyfriend?”
Gypsy giggled.

“Yes.”

This time, Gypsy shrieked.
“Who?
Did I meet him? Is he hot? Wait. Let me rephrase. Is he hot by my standards? You date nerds.”

Stevie rolled her eyes as she processed the rapid-fire questions. “Yes, you met the incredibly hot Storm.”

“Storm?
How did you manage that? He’s out of your league!”

Stevie plopped down onto the leather easy chair and massaged her temple. Storm’s unique spicy scent enveloped her, and she smiled. “Who do you believe is in my league, if I might ask?”

“Well, I thought Ace was… Or that guy, what was his name… Craig, that’s it, Craig.” Gypsy sighed. “Admit it. You need a man who works a nine-to-five job who’ll come home for supper, cut the grass on the weekends, and play with your two perfect children. Craig fit the bill in his boring, yuppie way.”

“That’s not true,” Stevie snapped. It wasn’t true now she was with Storm, anyway. Did Gypsy know the mystery gunman, were they in cahoots? She shoved the disturbing thoughts aside. “Craig had commitment issues.”

“Yeah, he was almost thirty and still lived with his mom.” Gypsy snorted. “A man like Storm is dangerous. You crave stability. Why do you think you dated that lame-o, Darin Newsome?
Because he was totally dorky and safe.”

“Gypsy!”
Stevie opened and closed her mouth. No other words came to mind. As much as she hated to admit it, her sister knew her too damned well.

Gypsy paused, almost like she needed to preface her next accusation with some grand speech. “Do you love him?” Her voice had dropped an octave.

The corners of Stevie’s mouth curled. “I think so. He’s more than I’ve ever wanted and better than I dreamed. I’m scared that I need him too much, but I wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything.”

Her sister shrieked. “Sounds to me like you’re convinced he’s the one! I’m so happy for you.”

Stevie gulped oxygen. One thing hung in the air like a storm cloud. “Are you planning to sleep with him, too?”

“Nope.
I wanted to keep you safe from Ace the Ass. He’s just that—an ass, plain and simple.”

Stevie took the phone from her ear and stared at it for a full minute. Was this really her selfish baby sister on the other end of the line? The caller ID said so. Stevie replaced the device. “Is this my sister or is this an imposter?”

Gypsy laughed. “It’s me. Look, people expect stupid things from me because I’m unpredictable. But you! You’re the smart one who plans things. You didn’t need his theatrics in your life. Plus, I wanted you to show me that you haven’t drifted into complacency. You and Storm belong together, like you’re cut from the same oddball cloth or something. You’re good together, no jokes or lies.”

Stevie narrowed her eyes. Despite the positive vibe, something rubbed her wrong. Her sister didn’t have a kind bone in her body. “Why are you being so nice to me? This isn’t like you.”

“Stevie, I screwed up this sister thing for too long. I know we’re opposites, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be sisters. I waited too long to realise that and I’m not letting another second go by without telling you I love having you for a big sister, even if you organise the hell out of fun.”

Stevie grinned. A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away with the sleeve of Storm’s shirt. “Thanks, Gypsy. I love you, too.”

Gypsy snorted.
“Enough greeting card lingo.
I’m tired of being depressed. Let’s dish. Are you naked with him?”

Stevie laughed out loud. “Yes and no. I’m wearing nothing but his shirt in his living room.” She sobered. “If I were naked with
him
, I wouldn’t be on the phone with
you
.”

Static crackled as Gypsy shrieked again. “I knew it.
Awesome.
You finally loosened up. Now, does he have any hot private investigator buddies and can I have your apartment?”

“You don’t waste time,” Stevie replied. “Now why are you upset? You don’t get depressed.”

“It’s nothing. So, when’s the big day?”

“You change topics too fast. What big day? ”

“The wedding.
Storm needs to snap your ass up, right now. Oh, and I insist on being the maid of honour. I assume you’ll go to Vegas and make it legal quick.”

Stevie glanced at her left hand. No engagement band decorated her finger, although Gypsy’s idea did sound appetising. “I guess we’ll both have to find out. He hasn’t told me he loves me.”

“He will. I can feel it, but you can’t rush him. You can’t rush any man, ever.” Gypsy paused again. More static crackled on the line.
“Now on to more exciting topics.
Me.”

Stevie shook her head and curled her legs under her rump to get comfortable. At least she had her sister back in her life. Maybe Storm would pop the question. Maybe he wouldn’t. Still, she didn’t see him as a monster and certainly wanted to be a part of his life for the long haul, danger and all. A ripple of excitement and desire slithered down her spine.

Yeah, she loved him. Now all she had to do was tell him the good news.

Chapter Eight

The next night, Stevie smoothed the crinkles out of the flimsy paper placemat and shuffled the paperwork needed for the night’s meeting. The greasy scent of cooking bacon and eggs impeded her senses and made her stomach rumble. She rubbed her midsection to quiet the irritating sound and studied the diner. Strains of Vinnie Joel’s ‘Crash and Burn’ filtered through the air as background noise amidst the clinking of silverware and gentle conversation.

She and Storm regularly met here to touch base with clients, and the simple establishment felt like a second office with an included cafeteria. White walls decorated in black and white photographs of people from the 1950’s eating at an unknown lunch counter surrounded the two dozen dark cherry, or maybe oak, booths. She wasn’t sure and didn’t care. Well worn, the Formica tabletop was faded in spots while permanent graffiti showed despite vigilant attempts at scrubbing it away.

Stevie crossed her ankles and glanced at the heavyset, balding cook placing completed orders on the shiny steel window ledge. Her stomach rumbled again.

She sipped her water, knowing it wouldn’t fill her up. Soon, she and Storm could go home. Stevie bit the inside of her cheek. Was his house really her home? Did he want her around that long? The long-term relationship vibe was there, but what if he only wanted a few nights and wanted to play with her heart? She closed her eyes and forced her attention from the sinking feeling in her chest to the case at hand.

Storm shifted and wrapped his arm around Stevie. Heat from his embrace enveloped her, drawing a soft sigh from deep in her throat.

He drummed his fingers on the wooden booth seat and tapped his feet to a song only he knew. “I don’t feel right about this meeting, babe. Something’s off. It’s like we’re on the edge of something pivotal, but I haven’t a clue what. Maybe it’s time to get out of the private investigation game. Think we can exist on love for the rest of our lives? I could make a living out of loving you.”

Stevie snorted and closed the manila folder full of pictures of Cherylyn and Bruce. Trust Storm to make a silly joke during a serious time. She kissed Storm’s cheek. “Whatever’s wrong, we’re in this together. I heard you talking in your sleep this afternoon. I’m not sure about the job, but nobody will take me from you.” When Storm acted edgy, she did too, so this time she tried to put on a brave face despite the way the scent of burnt toast made her stomach churn. “Spending day and night making love sounds like a hell of a time, but I doubt the money will hold out.” She turned as the waitress neared. “Food’s here.”

The blonde server placed the plates on the table, but didn’t leave. Storm shovelled a spoonful of chilli into his mouth. Stevie rolled her eyes and elbowed him. As long as he had a full stomach, the rest of the world didn’t exist. She smiled. “We’re good, thanks.”

Without warning, the waitress dropped into the opposite side of the booth. She shoved her pencil behind her ear. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Stevie and Storm exchanged confused glances. “Should we?” Stevie asked. The girl looked familiar, but then again, Stevie ran into myriad people while she and Storm worked an enquiry.

“I’m new here, but not at the clubs. I’m the blonde who offered her body for one evening a couple of nights ago at the Chatty Catty.” The girl wound a lock of hair from her ponytail around her finger.

Stevie nodded. Oh, yeah, the pushy chick with more clothes than brains. A pang of jealousy and protectiveness streaked through Stevie. She dug her nails into Storm’s thigh. What could this woman possibly want?
To make yet another move on him?

Storm cleared his throat and twined his fingers with Stevie’s. “And your name is?”

“Leticia, but my friends call me Lettie.” The waitress tore a napkin into pieces.

Storm dropped the spoon and pointed to himself. “I’m Storm Richardson and this is my partner, Stevie Persing.”

Stevie bit her bottom lip to suppress a snappy comeback. She wanted to shout that she and Storm were involved…
But for how long?
She didn’t know and would make a point to ask him the next time she cornered him alone. No need for jealousy if they weren’t a couple.

“Look, I don’t normally proposition men in line at the clubs.” Lettie balled the torn napkin and shoved a couple of flyaway strands of hair behind her ears. “It was a bad night and I feel awful about intruding.”