Sweet Last Drop (19 page)

Walker rubbed his palms along the grooves of the table. He stretched his fingers wide over the expanse of wood, studying its texture as he spoke. “Yes. Julia-Marie Frost was my high school sweetheart. She was the love of my life, and of all the luck, she was a night blood. She understood my lifestyle. She understood me. She was the only other person I’d ever met, beside Ronnie, who could share my entire world: no lies, no betrayals, no judging.” He swallowed, but I could still hear the thickness in his voice when he added, “She was my entire world.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said softly, but I ached for him. I knew this story didn’t have a happy ending.

He released the table and rubbed the corner of his temple. “She was diagnosed with leukemia shortly after our engagement party. I was devastated, but Julia—being Julia—accepted the news graciously as God’s plan.” A muscle in Walker’s jaw ticked as he spoke about God. I bit my tongue and let him continue. I had the feeling that if I commented now, he wouldn’t finish the story. “I waited as long as I could, but eventually, I couldn’t live with her suffering any longer. I brought her to Bex to transform her onto a vampire. Bex refused, claiming that Julia-Marie was too weak to complete the transformation, but I insisted. I told Bex that if she transformed Julia, I would willingly allow her to transform me, too.”

Walker stopped speaking, and by the strain in his jaw and temple, I didn’t think he could finish even if he wanted to.

“But when Bex drained her, Julia died,” I surmised, finishing the story for him.

He nodded.

“I’m so sorry, Walker.”

“It was a long time ago, nearly ten years now.” He laughed harshly. “Although sometimes, it still feels like yesterday.”

“Leukemia,” I said thoughtfully. “Isn’t that cancer of the bone marrow and blood?”

Walker nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“Maybe Bex wasn’t lying. Blood is crucial to the transformation, and if Julia had cancer of the blood….” I shrugged, at a loss for words. “Bex warned you that Julia wouldn’t survive the transformation.”

“Bex was always jealous of Julia and me,” Walker snapped. “Bex wanted me for herself, so when she saw her opportunity to kill Julia and get her out of the picture, she took it. She’s a vampire, Cassidy. Just like all the rest, she’s a monster.”

Bex didn’t need an opportunity to kill Julia to get her out of the picture,
I thought.
Julia was already dying.
I opened my mouth to say as much, but Walker’s expression stopped me cold. The pain of Julia-Marie’s death was still fresh. The wound hadn’t healed over time, it had festered, and poking at it would only cause more pain. I pursed my lips and kept my thoughts to myself.

Bex and Rene returned from the kitchen before I could think of an appropriate response to Walker’s pain and deep, seething anger. They were holding dishes of—I squinted, my brain refusing the register what I was seeing—baked macaroni and cheese and toasted chicken club melts on pretzel rolls.

I stared at the food in front of me, stunned. “I haven’t had baked mac and cheese in forever.”

“It’s my favorite dish,” Walker said, his voice devoid of emotion.

“I know. That’s why I had it made,” Bex said, her voice equally hollow.

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely surprised. It smelled like heaven. “It looks delicious.”

“We might not eat solid food anymore, but if we hope to attract the many night bloods in town recently, we’ll need to feed them. Food is, after all, the route to everyone’s heart,” Rene quipped.

Walker glared at him. “Keep your eyes off my night bloods.”

“I doubt it’s my
eyes
you’re worried about,” Rene said, smiling wide to show off his fangs. “Can’t look anywhere these days without spotting a night blood. With this kind of spread,” he motioned to the mac and cheese, “it’s you who must worry about them keeping their eyes off me.”

I rolled my eyes. Without a doubt, Rene was the worst comedian of us all. Walker was still glaring, so I leaned in and whispered. “He’s joking.”

Walker looked down at me and raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say he should quit his day job.”

Rene laughed. “Too late. I quit my day job years ago. Ninety-eight years ago, to be exact.”

I burst out laughing, realizing my mistake, and when I glanced at Walker, the edges of his pursed lips were trembling. He didn’t want to laugh. Monsters didn’t make jokes, and people who hunted monsters didn’t think they were funny. He hid his amusement behind a cough and scooped up some macaroni.

Dinner continued with Rene’s humor lightening the air, and without further discussion on the topics of Julia-Marie, night blood loyalty, or vampire transformations, I was actually able to enjoy the fresh baked macaroni and grilled sandwiches.

“Are you sure y’all won’t stay for dessert?” Bex asked when Rene had cleared our dinner plates. She blinked several times, and her beautiful green and yellow eyes ringed by those doe lashes were hard to resist. Physically, they were lovely, but mentally, I could feel the pull of her will shaping my tongue:
I’d actually love dessert.

The evening had progressed so well I might have accepted the offer, but if she was resorting to mental compulsion to force us to stay, I wasn’t sticking around to find out why.

Walker spoke before I could swallow the rest of my wine. “Actually, I’d love—”

I kicked his shin.

“Ouch! What the—”

I swallowed and pasted on a smile. “We would love to stay for dessert—”

Bex smiled and half rose from her chair.

“—but unfortunately, with a murderer on the loose, we’d better leave sooner rather than later. At the rate and viciousness of these recent attacks, the murderer will more than likely strike again tonight.”

Bex settled back in her seat, an expression of carefully crafted understanding on her face. “Of course. It’s too bad y’all can’t stay just a
bit
longer.”

Walker shook his head, frowning as if he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been thinking a moment ago.

I knew exactly what he’d been thinking: Bex’s thoughts, just like I had. The only difference was, when I heard her thoughts in my mind, I could differentiate them from my own.

I folded my napkin from my lap and set it on the table. “Thank you for dinner. The food, as well as the company,” I grinned at Rene, “was lovely.”

“Y’all are very welcome,” Bex said, nodding graciously.

I pushed my chair back from the table.

“Before you go, however, I do have one item of business I’d like to discuss.”

I raised my eyebrows in question, but my gut sank.
Get out, get out, get out,
it screamed. A small, hopeful fraction of my heart hoped it was overreacting, but the few times I hadn’t listened to my gut, I’d regretted it.

“Business?” Walker asked.

Bex nodded. Her expression looked contrite, but the gleam in her eyes said otherwise. “I believe I invited three of you to dinner, but here you are, just the two of you.” Bex looked between us, her expression still carefully crafted, but the crease between her eyebrows and the little frown tugging at her lips was all an act. She was relishing this moment.

Walker stiffened next to me.

“Where’s Veronica?” Bex asked, and her voice was nothing but sweet curiosity.

I glanced at Walker from beneath my lashes.

“She had a long day and didn’t feel well,” Walker said succinctly.

Bex wiped her mouth with the corner of her napkin and placed it on the table in front of her. “It would have been nice to hear that from Veronica herself. Honestly, it feels as if she purposefully rebuked my invitation.”

“She sends her sincerest apologies,” Walker said, but his voice sounded anything but sincere. Coming from his lips, even with his charming country twang, the words were flat and fraud.

“And yet, you didn’t bother to apologize on her behalf until I broached the subject.” Bex clucked her tongue in a succession of tsk-tsks that somehow shot from her mouth and whipped through the air like slaps. I physically felt their sting from across the table.

“You’re lucky we even—”

“We’re sorry that we forgot to mention how poorly Ronnie felt earlier in the evening.” I interrupted. I wasn’t sure where Walker was leading with that intro, but it hadn’t started well. I doubted it was going to end any better. “It wasn’t our intention to offend you. When we tell her about that mac and cheese, she’ll doubly regret not being able to attend tonight.” I stood.

Walker followed my lead. He pushed back from his chair and stood as well.

“Ian Walker. Cassidy DiRocco,” Bex commanded.

She looked at both of us as she said our names in turn. I knew that tone. Dominic used that tone on me when we’d first met, and I used it every time I was about to entrance a vampire. I envisioned a mirror between the two of us, a giant mirror with a fortified, silver gilt frame surrounding my entire mind. Nothing, not her words or her will, was getting through my mental barriers.

“Sit down,” Bex commanded. “Now.”

Walker sat instantly.

I felt the pound and rumble of her command hit my mental barriers like thunder. They shook from the power behind her words, but they didn’t break. Her command reflected off the mirror and hit her. She was already sitting, so Walker couldn’t tell that her command had reflected. He only saw that I didn’t sit, and by the swift swivel of his head and the blazing look in his eyes, he was astounded by that alone. But I could tell. Bex’s eyes widened in fear and anger, which I expected, but they also widened with something I’d hesitate to define. I wanted to name it “recognition,” but that didn’t make any sense.

Rene whistled. “Your Master must simultaneously worship and rue the day he met you.”

“Is this a game?” I asked darkly, ignoring Rene. “Dinner went so well. I was looking forward to relaying a favorable report to Dominic. But not anymore. What business is it of yours to force us to stay?”

Bex pursed her lips tightly, but she nodded. “Understood. Please, sit. My business is not with you.”

I hesitated. I didn’t like the way she’d worded that last sentence. It didn’t bode well for whomever she did have business with, but at least she hadn’t commanded me to sit this time.

I sat.

Bex locked eyes with Walker. “When was the last time Veronica left your house?”

Walker frowned. “It’s not safe outside the house after sunset. I wouldn’t want her—”

“I’m not talking about after dark,” Bex dismissed. “In general, when was the last time she stepped foot outside your house?”

I glanced at Walker, my eyebrows raised.

Walker crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let me enlighten you. Veronica hasn’t left your house after dark since y’alls parents died, but she hasn’t stepped one foot outside your house
at all
in the past five years.”

Walker opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been about to say, he thought better of it. I could almost see him thinking, backtracking through their shared history, and from his weathered expression, he concluded that Bex was right.

“Your point?” Walker asked tightly.

“No matter if Veronica felt well or not, she wouldn’t have joined me for dinner.”

“If Ronnie doesn’t want to leave the house, that’s her business,” Walker said. “I don’t make her daily routine my concern.”

“It’s your concern now.” Bex raised her wrist to her mouth and bit into her own vein. I gaped at the violent suddenness of seeing her blood. I’d expected blood tonight, but after an entire meal spent in pleasant, if not tense, conversation, I’d become comfortable. I’d let my guard down just a crack and allowed myself the naïve, selfish hope that I’d actually leave here unscathed.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Bex?” Walker’s voice was like razor blades. I’d never heard his tone so sharp and devoid of expression.

“Just one lick, and you may leave.”

Walker shook his head, and I knew that stubborn set to his jaw all too well. It meant that he wasn’t budging. Even if one little lick guaranteed our safe passage, he wouldn’t concede. On some level, I understood. I knew firsthand that even one drop of blood meant tightening whatever bonds he had with Bex a notch tighter, but I also knew that sometimes, conceding meant escaping. And there was certainly something to be said for just getting the hell out of dodge when the going was good. I was at that point now.

Walker, on the other hand, wasn’t bending one inch. Never had, and by the steel look in his eyes, he never would. He’d rather break than bend because he believed he’d never break again.

I glanced between the two of them and eased the silver nitrate from my pocket into my palm.

Bex leaned across the table, offering her wrist. Blood flowed freely from the wound and puddled in a path of bright red drops on the smooth wooden table. I could smell its sweet, cinnamon heat from my seat. Dominic always described my blood as having a spiced quality. As inexplicable as it seemed, I could smell blood, too, and the last few days—at Lydia’s crime scene and at Ronnie’s abandoned house—I’d been overwhelmed by its cloying sweetness.

Bex’s blood also smelled sweet, but it contained deeper nuances that singed my nostrils. I imagined that’s how my blood smelled to Dominic and the reason why Kaden became obsessed with possessing me. It was the reason why my eyes hadn’t left her wrist and my mouth flooded with saliva.

Her blood smelled delicious.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to conceal my reaction, but the spice from Bex’s blood was poignant on my tongue. My skin turned clammy as I stared, craving a dose of something unidentifiable.

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with Bex and my reaction to her blood. My hip flared in a grinding burst of pain. The more my hip throbbed, the more my stomach cramped with inexplicable craving, and I felt trapped inside a body that had betrayed me.

“Think of it as your toll for coming without Veronica,” Bex said. “One lick, just one, and you may leave as planned.”

Walker snorted. “I thought you were playing human, trying to show me how alike we really are.” He waved his hand over her bleeding wrist. “This isn’t how humans say goodbye. A handshake would have sufficed.”