Single White Vampire (3 page)

Well, he would straighten her out on that issue first thing. He'd be damned if he was letting her stay here and harangue him about all this publicity nonsense. That was that. He would be firm. Cruel, if necessary. She wasn't staying here.

 

Lucern tried to get rid of her, but Kate C. Leever was rather like a bulldog once she made up her mind about something. No, a bulldog was the wrong image. A ter
rier perhaps. Yes, he was happier with that comparison. A cute blond terrier hanging off of his arm, teeth sunk determinedly into the cuff of his shirt and refusing to let go. Short of smashing her against the wall a couple of times, he really had no idea how to get her jaws off him.

It was the situation of course. Despite having lived for several hundred years, Lucern had failed to come up against anything of the sort. In his experience, people were a bother and never failed to bring chaos with them. Women especially. He'd always been a sucker for a damsel in distress. He couldn't recount how many times he'd found himself stumbling across a woman with troubles and suddenly finding his whole life in turmoil while he fought a battle, a duel, or a war for her. Of course, he always won and saved the day. Still, somehow he never got the woman. In the end, all his efforts and the upheavals in his life left him watching the woman walk away with someone else.

That wasn't the situation here. Kate C. Leever, editor, was not a damsel in distress. In fact, she apparently saw
him
as the one in distress. She was staying “for his own good.” She was saving him, in her mind, and intended to “wake him every hour on the hour should he fall asleep,” to save him from his own foolishness in refusing to go to the doctor. She made that announcement the moment they were seated in his living room, then calmly set about removing the tea bags from the pot and pouring tea while he gaped at her.

Lucern didn't need her help. He hadn't really hit his head that hard, and even if he had, his body would have repaired itself quickly. But that wasn't something
he could tell the woman. In the end, he simply said, with all the sternness and firmness he could muster, “I do not desire your help, Ms. Leever. I can take care of myself.”

She nodded sedately, sipped her tea, then smiled pleasantly and said, “I would take that comment much more seriously were you not presently wearing a pretty but bloodstained flowered tea towel on your head…turban style.”

Lucern reached up in alarm, only to feel the tea towel he'd forgotten was wrapped around his head. As he began to unravel it, Kate added, “Don't remove it on my account. It looks rather adorable on you and makes you far less intimidating.”

Lucern growled. He ripped the flowered tea towel off.

“What was that?” his editor asked, eyes wide. “You growled.”

“I did not.”

“You did so.” She was grinning widely, looking very pleased. “Oh, you men are so cute.”

Lucern knew then that the battle was lost. There would be no argument that would make her leave.

Perhaps mind control…

It was a skill he tried to avoid using as a rule, and hadn't exercised in some time. It wasn't usually necessary, since the family had switched to utilizing a blood bank for feeding rather than hunting. But this occasion clearly called for it.

As he watched Kate sip her tea, he tried to get into her thoughts so that he might take control of them. He was beyond shocked to find only a blank wall. Kate C.
Leever's mind was as inaccessible to him as if a door had been closed and locked. Still, he continued to try for several moments, his lack of success more alarming than he would have expected.

He didn't give up until she broke the silence by bringing up her reason for being there: “Perhaps we could now discuss the book-signing tour.”

Lucern reacted as if she'd poked him with a hot iron. Giving up on controlling her mind and making her leave, he leapt to his feet. “There are three guest rooms. They're upstairs, all three on the left. My room and office are on the right. Stay out of them. Take whichever of the guest rooms you want.”

Then he retreated from the battlefield with all haste, rushing back to the kitchen.

He could put up with her for one night, he told himself. Once the night was over and she was reassured that he was fine, she would leave. He would see to that.

Trying not to recall that he'd been just as determined and certain about expelling her after she finished her tea, Lucern snatched a glass and his last bag of blood from the fridge. Then he moved to the sink to pour himself some dinner. He could probably get a quick cup while Ms. Kate C. Leever was occupied in choosing a room.

He'd thought wrong. Lucern had just started to pour the blood from its bag to the glass when the kitchen door opened behind him.

“Do you have any all-night grocery stores in town?”

Dropping the glass and bag, Lucern whirled to face her, wincing as the glass smashed in the sink.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I…” She
paused when he held up a hand to halt her forward progress.

“Just…” he began, then finished wearily; “What did you ask?”

He couldn't really listen to her answer. The sweet, tinny scent of blood seemed rich in the air, though he doubted Kate could smell it from where she was across the room. It was distracting, and even more distracting was the rushing sound of it all running out of the bag and down the sink. His dinner. His last bag.

His mind was screaming NO! His body was cramping in protest. That being the case, Kate C. Leever's words sounded like “Blah blah blah” as she moved toward his empty refrigerator and peered inside. Lucern didn't bother to stop her this time. Apart from the blood from earlier, it was completely empty. However, he did try to concentrate on what she was saying, hoping that the sooner he dealt with her question, the sooner he could save his dinner. Try as he might, however, he was really only catching a word here and there.

“Blah blah blah…haven't eaten since breakfast. Blah blah blah…really don't have anything here. Blah blah blah…shopping?”

The last chorus of blahs ended on a high note, alerting Lucern to the fact that it had been a question. He wasn't sure what the question was, but he could sense that a no would probably provoke an argument.

“Yes,” he blurted, hoping to be rid of the stubborn woman. Much to his relief, the answer pleased her and sent her back to the hall door.

“Blah blah blah…pick my room.”

He could almost taste the blood, its scent was so heavy in the air.

“Blah blah…change into something more comfortable.”

He was starving.

“Blah blah be right back and we can go.”

The door closed behind her, and Lucern whirled back to the sink. He moaned. The bag was almost completely drained. It was flat. Nearly. Feeling somewhat desperate, he picked it up, tipped it over his mouth and squeezed, trying to wring out the last few drops. He got exactly three before giving up and tossing the bag into the garbage with disgust. If there had been any question before, there wasn't now. Without a doubt, Kate C. Leever was going to make his life a living hell until she left. He just knew it.

And what the heck had he agreed to anyway?

“Shopping!”

Kate laughed at Lucern's disgusted mutter as they entered the 24-hour grocery store. He'd been repeating it every few minutes since leaving the house. At first he'd said the word as if he couldn't believe he'd agreed to go. Then, as they'd driven here in his BMW, that dismay had turned to disgust. You'd think the man had never gone food shopping before now! Of course, judging by how empty his cupboards were, Kate supposed he hadn't. And when she'd commented on the lack of food in his home on the way out of the house, he'd muttered something about not having replaced his housekeeper yet. Kate presumed that meant he ate out a lot in the meantime.

She hadn't bothered to inquire as to what had become of his previous housekeeper. His personality was answer enough. No doubt the poor woman had quit. Kate herself would have, she knew.

She led him to the rows of empty shopping carts. As she started to pull one out, Lucern grunted something that might have been “Allow me,” but could just as easily have been “Get the hell out of the way.” He then took over the chore,

In Kate's experience, men always preferred to do the driving—whether it was a car, a golf cart, or a shopping basket. She suspected it was a control issue, but either way it was handy; it meant she was free to fill the thing up.

She began to make a mental list of what she should get as she led the way toward the dairy section. She would have to be sure she got lots of fruits and vegetables for Lucern. The man was big and muscular, but far too pale. It seemed obvious to her that he was in dire need of some green leafy vegetables.

Maybe vegetables would improve his mood, too.

 

Lucern needed blood. That was the one thought pulsing through his mind as he followed Kate C. Leever through the dairy section, the frozen-food section, and now down the coffee aisle. The cart was filling up quickly. Kate had already tossed various yogurts, cheeses, eggs and a ton of frozen gourmet dinners in it. Now she paused in the coffee aisle and considered the various packages before turning to ask, “What brand do you prefer?”

He stared at her blankly. “Brand?”

“Of coffee? What do you normally drink?”

Lucern shrugged. “I do not drink coffee.”

“Oh. Tea, then?”

“I do not drink tea.”

“But you—,” She narrowed her eyes. “Hot chocolate? Espresso? Capuccino?” When he shook his head at all her suggestions, she asked with exasperation: “Well, what
do
you drink then? Kool-Aid?”

A titter of amusement drew Lucern's attention to a plump young woman pushing a cart up the aisle toward them. She was the first shopper they'd come across since entering the store. Between the debacles with the blood bags, the tea in the living room, and the bit of time Kate had taken to settle in and change, it was now nearly midnight. The grocery store wasn't very busy at this hour.

Now that her giggle had caught his attention, the shopper batted her eyelashes at Lucern and he found himself smiling back, his gaze fixed on the pulse at the base of her throat. He imagined sinking his teeth there and drawing the warm, sweet blood out of her. She was his favorite sort to drink. Plump, pink women always had the best, richest blood. Thick and heady and—

“Mr. Argeneau? Earth calling Lucern!”

Luc's pleasant imaginings shattered. He turned reluctantly back to his editor. “Yes?”

“What do you like to drink?” she repeated.

He glanced back at the shopper. “Er…coffee's fine.”

“You said you don't drink cof—Never mind. What brand?”

Lucern surveyed the choices. His eyes settled on a dark red can with the name Tim Hortons. He'd always thought that was a donut shop or something. Still, it was the only name he recognized, so he pointed at it.

“The most expensive one, of course,” Kate muttered. She picked up a can of fine grind.

Lucern hadn't noticed the price. “Stop complaining. I am paying for the groceries.”

“No. I said I'd pay and I will.”

Had
she said she'd pay when she'd mentioned it earlier? he wondered. He couldn't recall; he hadn't been paying much attention at the time. His thoughts had been on other things. Like the blood dripping down the sink and not into his parched mouth.

His gaze slid back to the plump, pulsing-veined shopper who continued past him. He imagined he looked like a starving man watching a buffet being wheeled past. He was hard-pressed not to throw himself onto it. Warm, fresh blood…much nicer than that cold bagged stuff he and his family had taken to ingesting. He hadn't realized how much he missed the old-fashioned way of feeding.

“Lucern?” There was a touch of irritation in Kate Leever's voice, and it made him scowl as he turned back. She wasn't where she'd last stood, but had moved on down the aisle and was waiting for him. She wore an annoyed expression, which in turn annoyed him. What did
she
have to be irritable about? She wasn't the one starving.

Then he had a vague recollection of her saying she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and he supposed she was hungry too and therefore had just as much right to be grouchy. It was a grudging admission.

“
I
am paying,” he announced firmly as he pushed the cart forward. “You are a guest in my home. I will feed you.” As opposed to feeding on you, he thought, which
was what he most wanted to do. Well, not what he
most
wanted to do. He'd rather feed on the plump little brunette behind him. He had always found the blood of sleek, blond creatures like Kate C. Leever to be thin and bland. Plump-girl blood was better-tasting, more flavorful, fuller-bodied.

Of course, he couldn't feed on anyone. It was too dangerous nowadays, and even if he himself was willing to take the risk, he wouldn't risk the safety of his family just for a few moments of culinary pleasure.

It didn't mean he couldn't dream about it, though, so Lucern spent the next few moments trailing Kate around the canned food and dry goods aisles, absently agreeing with everything she said while he fondly recalled meals he'd enjoyed in the past.

“Do you like Mexican?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” he murmured, the question immediately bringing to mind a perky little Mexican girl he'd feasted on in Tampico. She'd been a tasty little bundle. Warm and sweet-smelling in his arms, little enjoyable moans issuing from her throat as he'd plunged both his body and teeth into her…Oh, yes. Feeding could be a full-body experience.

“What about Italian?”

“Italian is delicious too,” he said agreeably, his memories immediately switching to a pleasing little peasant on the Amalfi coast. That had been his first feeding on his own. A man always remembered his first. And just the thought of his sweet little Maria made him warm all over. Such deep, dark eyes and long, wavy, midnight hair. He recalled tangling his hands in that hair and the deep groan of pleasure she'd breathed into his ear as
he'd given her his virginity and taken her blood at the same time. Truly, it had been a sweet and memorable experience.

“Do you like steak?”

Lucern was once again drawn from his thoughts, this time by a package of raw meat suddenly shoved under his nose, interrupting his fond memories. It was steak, nice and bloody, and though he normally preferred human blood—even cold bagged human blood to bovine—the blood-soaked steak smelled good at the moment. He found himself inhaling deeply and letting his breath out on a slow sigh.

The package was jerked away. “Or do you prefer white meat?”

“Oh, no. No. Red meat is better.” He moved closer to the meat counter she'd led him to and peered around with his first real interest since they'd entered the market. He had always been a meat-and-potatoes man. Rare meat, as a rule.

“A carnivore, I take it,” Kate commented dryly as he reached for a particularly bloody package of steak. The blood was dripping, and he almost licked his lips. Then, afraid he might do something distressing in his present state, like lick the package, he stepped back and set the meat down. Taking hold of the cart, he began moving it along, hoping to get to a less tempting section.

“Hang on,” Kate called, but Lucern kept walking, almost moaning when she rushed up with several packages of steak in her arms that she dumped in the cart.

Great! Now the temptation would follow him. He really needed to feed. He had to contact Bastien or Etienne and see about borrowing some blood. Perhaps
he could make a quick stop at Bastien's on the way home. He could leave the unshakable Kate Leever in the car with the groceries, run in, gulp down a bit of nourishment and…

Dear God! He sounded like a junkie!

“Fruits and vegetables next, I think,” Kate said beside him. “You're obviously in serious need of vitamins. Have you ever considered going to a tanning salon?”

“I can't. I have an…er, skin condition. And I'm allergic to the sun, too.”

“That must make life difficult at times,” she commented. Peering at him wide-eyed she asked, “Is that why you are so difficult about book signings and other promo stuff?”

He shrugged. As she began picking up all sorts of green things, he grimaced. In defense, he picked up a twenty-pound bag of potatoes to fill the cart, but it was soon covered in green: little round green things, big round green things, long green stalks. Dear God, the woman had a green fetish!

Lucern started moving the cart along a little more quickly, forcing Kate to hurry as she started on other colors. Orange, red and yellow vegetables flew into the cart and were followed by orange, red and purple fruit before Lucern managed to at last force her to the cash register.

The moment he stopped the cart, Kate began throwing things on the conveyor belt. He was watching her absently when the plump shopper pushed her cart by. She smiled and batted her eyelashes again, then gave him a little wave. Lucern smiled back, his gaze affixed to the pulse beating in her neck. He could practically
hear the
thump-thump
of her heart, the rushing sound of blood, the—

“Lucern? Mr. Argeneau. Where are you going?”

Pausing, Lucern blinked his eyes, realizing only at Kate's question that he'd started to follow the plump shopper like a horse walking after a dangling carrot. His possible dinner looked back and smiled again before disappearing down the frozen-foods aisle. Lucern started after her. “We forgot ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” He heard the confusion in Kate's voice, but he couldn't have stopped to answer had he wished. He hurried to the frozen-foods aisle only to find another shopper there in addition to his plump lovely. They hadn't crossed paths with any but the plump shopper all night, yet now there was another one present, hindering him from a quick bite! Sighing inwardly, he moved to the ice cream section and glanced distractedly, over the options. Chocolate, cherry, Rocky Road.

He glanced toward his plump lovely. She was watching him and giving coquettish smiles. She looked like a big, smiling steak on legs. Damned woman! It's not nice to tease, he thought unhappily and opened the cooler wider as he stared.

She approached, smiling widely as he pulled ice cream out of the cooler. She didn't say a word, just smiled naughtily as she walked past, her arm brushing against him.

Lucern inhaled deeply, nearly dizzy from the scent of her. Oh yes, her blood was sweet. Or was that the ice cream he held? He grabbed another carton and watched her disappear around the corner with a sigh. He wanted to follow. He could use his brain-control
trick to lure her into the back of the store for a little suck. But if he was caught…

Sighing, he gave up on the idea and grabbed some Rocky Road ice cream. He could hold out a little while longer. Just a little while more, and he would be free to escape to Bastien's or Etienne's. Surely Kate C. Leever was exhausted after her workday and flight, and would want to make a night of it.

“My, you do like ice cream,” Kate commented as he returned.

Lucern glanced down at the four cartons he held and dumped them onto the conveyor belt with a shrug. He had no idea what flavors several of them were, and in his distraction hadn't even realized he'd grabbed so many, but it didn't matter. They'd get eaten eventually.

Kate protested his paying, but Lucern insisted. It was a man thing. His pride wouldn't allow a woman to pay for food intended for his home. Kate opened a bag of rice cakes to munch on the way back. She offered him some, but he merely sneered and shook his head. Rice cakes. Dear God.

Lucern managed to not stop at either of his brothers' houses. He was rather proud of his self-restraint. He and Kate carted the groceries inside his home; then he insisted she start cooking while he put them away. This made him look helpful and useful, when in truth he just wanted her to cook her damned meal, eat it, and go to bed so that he could go in search of what he needed. Not that he couldn't enjoy food, too. A little food wouldn't go amiss, but regular food wouldn't help his main hunger. His people could survive without food, but not without blood.

Fortunately, Kate C. Leever was apparently ravenous, because she made a quick meal, grilling a couple of steaks and then throwing together a bowl of a bunch of green stuff with some sort of sauce on it. Lucern had never seen the attraction of salads. Rabbits ate greens. Humans ate meat, and Lucern ate meat and blood. He was not a rabbit. However, he kept his opinions to himself and finished up with the unpacking at nearly the same time as Kate finished cooking; then they sat down to eat.

Lucern dug into his steak with fervor, ignoring the rabbit bowl. He'd asked for the meat rare, and he supposed it was rare to most people—but rare to him was
rare
. Still, it was tender and juicy, and he ate it quickly.

He watched Kate finish, but shook his head when she offered him salad. “You really should eat some,” she lectured with a frown. “It's full of vitamins and nutrients, and you're still awfully pale.”