Whiteout (Aurora Sky (12 page)

My body ached for reckless abandon. A desire all too familiar came over me to grab Dante by the back of the neck and mash his lips against mine, to make the world melt away fo
r a few minutes, to act on primal instinct the way I'd reacted to Fane
the
time he followed me onto the public bus after school. The bus incident had been purely physical—a reaction to a male body next to mine.

But a kiss could change everything.

A kiss co
uld capture the heart and bind it to another for all eternity.

The times Dante and I kissed had been good
—
there was no denying that
—
but nothing that united our souls. I wouldn't kiss him again.

I took a step away, cold air rushing in to replace the warmth
of Dante's hand.

“Hell,” Dante said, pressing his palm to his forehead then running it through his hair. “I should have never left Ivo's house to begin with.”

“Don't worry about it. That was a long time ago,” I said.

“Sometimes it feels that way, but it ha
sn't even been a year.” He stepped toward me again.

I had to put a stop to this.

“You were only trying to help prepare me to hunt vampires, and it worked. I'm prepared.” The conviction of my words propelled me forward. I was both vampire
and
hunter. I'd b
attled. I'd killed. I'd
drunk
blood. There was no going back. I wouldn't if I could. I'd already forgotten what it was like to live a normal life.

A pair of familiar reflective markers flanked the
driveway
up ahead. Beside them, a spray
-
painted rock confir
med the address. Dante caught up to me, surveying the overgrown road leading in. At least his mind looked like it had switched back to the mission.

“Me and my bleeding heart,” I muttered. “Giselle's right. This is a bad idea. We should be off securing wint
er transportation and supplies, not attracting unwanted attention.” I gave a derisive snort. “I left the agency and here I am still hunting vampires.”

“There's no denying natural instinct,” Dante said. “It's in our DNA.”

“It's also in our DNA to suck blood
.”

“Not mine.”

“Yeah? Well, you're stubborn.” With that, I started down the wooded road. This was all beginning to feel like déjà vu. At least this time I knew what I was walking into. Another vamp cabin. There were too many of them
,
if you asked me. What
was
it about Alaska that attracted
bloodsuckers
to the state with the same ferociousness as mosquitoes? Cold, dark, and savage. Dante had once said it was the equivalent of Florida
for
seniors.

As soon as I caught sight of a cabin through the trees, I stop
ped and waited until Dante walked up next to me.
Smoke streamed from a chimney pipe, rising above the trees.

“He's expecting a lone woman,” I said. “I'll take care of this one myself.”

Dante folded his arms. “What if he saw you on one of those
flyer
s?”

“Wh
en I spoke with Pierce, it didn't sound like Nelson got a chance to tell him
anything
about us
,
let alone get
flyer
s into his hands.”

“What if he did?”

I
patted the gun
hidden beneath my coat
in
my
holster
. “Then I'll shoot first.”

Dante glanced at
my hip
,
eyebrows furrowing, as though unsure. “Okay, but be careful and yell if you need me. I'll circle around and make my way up to the cabin from behind.”

“Sure,” I said dismissively.

Without a backward glance, I continued down the drive.

My heart beat at a s
teady pace as I walked up to the cabin. Once at the door, I curled my fingers into a fist and pounded on the door.

Little pig, little pig, let me in.
That's right, the she
-
wolf had come calling.

Don't
cha just love irony?

I glanced over my shoulder, half
expecting to see Dante waiting behind me, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Footsteps creaked from w
ithin, approaching the door.
I listened to them until they stopped. I put my hands in my pockets, thumbs brushing over the surfaces of the phone and gun.

“Who
is it?” a male voice asked from the other side of the door.

“Anna,” I called out. “Pixie dropped me off. Did your friend Pierce let you know I was coming?”

There was no answer. Instead, the door opened and a man with thick dark brown hair and bushy eyebrow
s peered out. He was old. In his early thirties, at least.

“You Arlo?” I asked, looking him up and down.

The man looked over my shoulder. “I didn't hear a car pull in.” As he spoke, I noticed sharpened teeth like his pal Nelson's. I suppressed a shudder.

“
Pixie dropped me off at the end of the road. She was in a hurry.” I brushed my shoulder against my chin as though it didn't concern me. “So are you Arlo?”

“Yeah.” He stepped aside. “Come in.”

Arlo left the front door open and retreated into the cabin. He
didn't wait to see me enter.

I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. The interior wasn't cold. This wasn't what I'd expected. Could Arlo have
secured a cabin with
plumbing as well as heat? Now this was more like it. Funny how something quaint and ru
stic could feel inviting with the addition of heat.

I moved slowly into an open l
iving
/
dining
/
kitchen area
. Warmth enveloped me the closer I moved into the room.

With
his back to me
, Arlo stood
at a wood
en
counter by a rectangular dining table with chairs.

“You must be cold from your walk down the drive,” he said. “Would you like a cup of hot tea?”

Oh, how that sounded good, but I'd been drugged before. Fool me once.

“No, thank you,” I said.

Arlo turned jus
t enough to look at me. “Are you sure? I
found
a wide selection: jasmine, rooibos, chai
...
”

I felt a tight pain in my chest. Tea made me think of Joss. I had a difficult time picturing him inside a holding cell, especially considering his reclusive nature.

I shook the thought away. Now wasn't the time to dwell. “I'm
good
.”

“Go on and have a seat by the fire.”

Arlo lifted a kettle off a
gas stove
and poured steaming water into a mug. I looked from him to the
main room
before walking to the
cast
-
iron stove
. I
passed a long wood
en
coffee table and a fabric couch, its brown cushions worn but not ripped.

Once I was three feet from the
stove
, I turned, facing the room.

Arlo stepped over to the couch, holding a steaming mug. “Sure you don't want this?” he asked, lifting it.

My eyes narrowed. “I'm sure.”

He sat on the couch and took a sip, followed by another. Guess it wasn't drugged. But better safe than sorry.

“How do y
ou know Pixie?” he asked.

“Through a friend.”

“Then you must know Nelson, as well.”

“Yeah, I met him. Once.” The corners of my lips twitched, but I forced myself not to smile.

Arlo set the mug on the coffee table. He tapped his finger on his thigh. “What w
as your arrangement with Nelson?”

“What do you mean?”

“What did he give you in exchange for blood?”

I stared at Arlo in confusion. My experience around vampire groupies was severely limited. I thought they enjoyed being bitten for the novelty of it, not a
s a bargaining chip.

“Drugs?” Arlo prodded.

“Cash,” I said.

Might as well get what I could off him. It
wasn't
like he'd need it after I put him down
,
and it would make a nice little donation to the Vampires Against Drinking and Dying cause. Sure beat grav
e robbing or constantly looking to Giselle for handouts.

“How much?” he asked, his bushy brows furrowing.

“Fifty dollars,” I said
,
uncertain. What was the going rate for a quick suck? Plenty of women allowed vamps to bite them free of charge just to experi
ence the rush.

Arlo leaned forward, grabbed the mug, and stood. Wordlessly, he walked into the kitchen and set it on the counter.

So far he hadn't tried to attack me, but that didn't mean I'd let my guard down for a moment.

Arlo walked past the couch, stop
ping in front of the entry and blocking the way to the door.

He looked me over. “Are you warm enough? I got the fire going just for you.”

A chill went through me. “What do you mean ‘just for me'?”

His shoulders relaxed and he rested one foot in front of t
he other. He wasn't fooling me for a minute.

“You have something I need, so why don't you be nice
,
sit on the couch in front of the warm fire
,
and relax?”

Yeah? And why don't you bite me?
I wanted to say, except that
was
exactly what he wanted.

“All right,
” I said, easing over to the couch. I could riffle through his wallet after he was dead. We'd see how much he enjoyed my blood in a moment.

Once I sat down, Arlo left his post in front of the entry and took a seat beside me. He scooted to my side and pushe
d the black strands of hair over my shoulder and leaned in, his pointed teeth sinking into my neck.

I inhaled sharply then exhaled slowly to calm my nerves for the kill to come.

Arlo
's lips clamped down like suctions over my skin, drawing blood to the sur
face and into his throat. He
released my neck and swallowed. I counted to three in my head. He leaned in and bit down again. A grotesque sucking sound filled my eardrums and I cringed. He sucked so hard my skin ached. This time he sucked and swallowed simu
ltaneously
,
like a greedy newborn at his mother's teat.