Witch Way to Turn (16 page)

“Yeah, I drank the last caffeine-free Diet Coke.”

“Okay.” In no hurry, Breena shuffled back to the stockroom. Her shift was almost over. Soon she’d be on her way to see Jenny. She’d called her at lunch and Jenny had told her Norma hadn’t come home from her night out at the strip-club, and Susan had spent the day at her friend’s house.

Breena pushed open the stockroom door, and a shiver ran down her spine. A box of scented candles to her right bombarded her with the woodsy odor of pine. The smell brought back the memory of finding baby Jenny in the woods, alone, crying.

Jenny was still alone, though she’d long since learned not to cry. Why had her parents abandoned her? Why had Breena’s, for Pete’s sake? Who were they? Did they care that Jenny suffered? That Breena suffered?

Legal custody felt like her only hope to end the pain, for both of them. She grabbed a cart and put a couple boxes of Kit-Kats and Butterfingers into the push-out seat, where a little kid would sit. Now for the caffeine-free Diet Coke.
She walked over to the other sodas but there was no caffeine-free to be found, so she scanned around until she spotted them.

Terrific.

They were stacked on the top shelf underneath a box of Ace bandages. Larry must’ve done this. He didn’t care where anything went as long as it was off the floor and not near his Radio Shack inventory.

The top shelf stood a good eight feet from the ground.

Even better.

The stepladder wouldn’t reach. She looked around until she found the six-foot ladder. Heaving it across the room, she propped it up against the wall next to the shelf. To reach the soda she’d have to lean to her left because she couldn’t put the ladder directly against the shelves, which had wobbled alarmingly when she’d tried.

As she climbed, the rungs dipped beneath her. When she reached the top, she stretched as far as possible without upsetting the ladder.

She yanked on the box of soda with one hand while balancing herself with the other. The ladder tipped. She grappled for the edge of the shelves. Missed.

The entire thing lurched then started to fall sideways.

Oh God
.

Her stomach dropped to her feet as the long slow slide of the ladder brought her inevitably closer to the floor. Her head would’ve smacked into the concrete had it not been for the strong arms that caught her, set her on the ground and placed the ladder against the wall in a matter of seconds.

His approach had burned like a fire in her veins, even before he’d actually touched her.

“How’d you know I was–”

Holy hell
.

She’d had his blood, so she felt his emotions, his presence… “You drank my blood.”

Myles avoided looking directly at her. Instead, he climbed up the ladder, got the caffeine-free Diet Cokes and put the box in her cart.

“When?” Her voice hitched.

“The night I found you in the woods.” He dipped his dark lashes down to hide his eyes.

“My hands…” That’s why she’d healed so fast. “So you just drank my blood?” She hadn’t thought Myles would ever take advantage of her. She had trusted him with her life. More importantly, she’d trusted him with Jenny’s life.

“Yes.” He stared at the cement floor.

“Look at me,” she said, hugging her arms to her.
Damn chill.
“You gave me yours that night too.”

“Only a few drops to heal the cuts.”

Her thoughts ran rampant. Myles taking blood-liberties had started a domino of questions. One being the way she felt about him. Okay, she’d liked him from the moment they’d met in the pharm. Fine, she’d thought about him as boyfriend material. But she hadn’t gone all hot-and-lusty until after he’d given her his blood and taken hers. Like and lust. Blood and soul.

Could she still trust her judgment?

What else could she say? She left him there and pushed the cart to the front of the store.

“You okay?” Tammy watched Breena shove the last of the caffeine-free into the cooler next to the registers.

“Sure.” Breena tossed the empty soda box onto the empty candy bar containers in the cart. “Confused,” she mumbled to herself.

Ever since the blue-light-thing shot out of her hands, she’d realized how alone she felt. Everything she’d thought she knew about herself, about her life, about her and Jenny, about her and Myles, had somehow changed.

She needed something. Someone. She wanted to get carried away. To ease the pain. Forget.

Hadn’t Orin said he’d take away the pain? Myles had punched him because of it. Why–when she needed relief more than ever–would Myles want to deny her?

That settled it.

She glimpsed the clock behind the front counter. Five thirty. Thank the heavens. “Night, Tammy.”

“See ya tomorrow,” Tammy called as Breena hauled the empty boxes back to the scene of her near-death fall. She tossed them into the compacter before walking into the break room to get her bag.

“Breena, we need to talk.” Myles stood by her locker, arms crossed.

“Move.”

There was nothing he could say. He’d kept the truth from her. Taken advantage of her.

“Not until you hear me out,” he pleaded.

Chapter 12

Breena bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she’d regret. If Myles would just admit what he felt. Or tell her how she should feel so she could bite his head off and be justified doing it. Either one would be good.

“I’m not the enemy here.” His voice sounded smooth but icy.

She knew who he meant and, frankly, she wanted him to say it. “You think Orin is?”

“He’s dangerous.”

“Like you’re not.” Her turn to crank up the cold.

“I’ll do whatever it takes not to hurt you, Bree.”

“You don’t think your lies hurt me?”

“He lied to you, too.”

True.

But Orin being wrong didn’t make Myles right. “Orin never took advantage of me physically.”

“I shouldn’t have tasted your blood without asking. I admit it. I acted selfishly. I guess I thought it would help me protect you better.” He tugged his hand through his curls while he took an obvious deep breath. “But that’s no excuse.”

“I don’t need your protection. I can take care of myself.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you can’t.” He sat on the edge of the table, allowing her to get to her locker. She inched forward as he spoke. “A great power is inside you. I’ve tasted it. However, your abilities are sporadic at best. And we don’t know what your preternatural side will produce.”

His words froze her in her tracks. Just when she thought she couldn’t get any more confused. “We? What aren’t you telling me, Myles?”

“You think you’ve got this all figured out, that you can’t trust me. If you’re not careful you’ll let your lust-driven, childish infatuation lead you right into danger.”

Why did he think it was only about desire? Had he gotten some kind of read-out from her blood? He couldn’t have. Her feelings for Orin were more than just lust. Besides, they hadn’t done anything more than kiss.

“You’re a fine one to talk, Mr. I’ve Got Needs. Besides, who are you callin’ childish? You act like you’re so old and wise,” she said. “You’re only three years older than me.”

“I’ve been twenty-one for nearly one hundred and fifty years.” He laughed. The calm, smooth sound didn’t fit him in any way. “I think I’ve learned a thing or two about my own needs.” His gaze smoldered with desire.

Damn. Myles
is
old
.

She was surprised, and he knew it through their blood-bond.

“You didn’t think I was so old.”

“Stop that.” Breena placed a hand on her hip, added a sharp eye roll.

“Orin’s just as old, if not older. He’s killed by profession for a long time.” Myles hopped off the table and in a flash he was on her, pushing her flat against the lockers with his hand braced behind her for impact. The clang of the door slamming shut reverberated in her ears. “Don’t think for a second you’re safe with him.” His words pierced her heart as if they were fangs.

Jealousy–and something she couldn’t pin down–raged through him like the Rhodhiss Dam balking under its heavy burden.

“You’re jealous.” Her heart hammered against her chest.

“My blood doesn’t lie.”

His lips were playing a dangerous game of chicken with hers. She could nearly taste him. He pressed his body closer, his muscles shifting against her, keeping her trapped in his arms. He wanted her. In more ways than one.

“Just admit you like me, Myles. You know I like you.” And maybe without the blood she more-than-liked him. Would she ever know for sure?

Myles angled her face up to his, searching her gaze. She saw pain in his eyes, and hope. She wanted to stay pressed against him. Wanted whatever he offered. He grazed her cheek with his fingertips. Her blood throbbed from his touch. His fangs slid out.

“Tell me,” she said, her voice breathy, loaded with emotion.

The moment came and went without Myles admitting to anything.

Typical.

The furrow of his brow seemed etched in stone, so serious. Suddenly, he backed away from her, leaving her limp against the lockers. His gaze hardened. “You don’t understand. It’s complicated.”

Hell, she understood all right. She understood she was totally pissed off. With a capital P. “Oh, I see. ‘It’s not you. It’s me.’ Get real, Myles. You’d think after all your years as a twenty-one year old you could come up with a better excuse.”

She huffed back around to face the locker, but her fingers fumbled with the combination to the lock. If only steam would come out of her ears like the cat on Jenny’s favorite cartoon. It might make her feel better.

* * * *

Myles watched Breena storm out of the break room, leaving him alone with his thoughts and heartsick for the halfling he could never have.

There was so much she didn’t understand. So much he wanted to tell her but couldn’t. If he told her he was fang-over-lip in love with her, what good would it do? Once the president found out, he would lose the thing he held most dear. The bewitched pills gave him his humanity. Without it, he would become a vicious killing machine. Again. Blood-thirsty. Sexually driven. Unstoppable. Breena could never love a monster.

Maybe if he hadn’t been made a vampire under such distress things would’ve turned out differently. Maybe he wouldn’t have gone on a witch hunt–literally–and gotten himself caught in the president’s snare.

But then he never would’ve been given the miracle drug. Never been allowed to return to Rhodhiss. Never brought Breena here. And never found something worth living for. No matter how bad his existence seemed, the thought of her kept him going. She was the most important person in his life and he would keep her safe, even if it meant losing her.

He lifted his head and scented the air. The smell of their magic was, as always, sickeningly sweet.

“Look what we have here, Doris.” Sandy, the heavily made-up redhead,
tsked
to her sidekick.

“Poor, pitiful vampire.” Doris shook her head.

The sound of their voices grated on Myles’s nerves. He wanted to lose control, drain them both where they stood, but they weren’t worth it. Instead, he dug his hands into his pockets and tried not to scowl.

Sandy’s low-cut black suit jacket revealed a lacy pink camisole, which dipped almost as low. She sashayed up to Myles, tracing the outline of her camisole to draw attention to her exposed neck and other nearly-exposed areas.

The vampire kept his eyes on the witch’s face, watching her thick black lashes flutter while her gaze roamed over his body. Not the first time she’d tried to tempt him. But he wanted nothing to do with her. She wasn’t Breena.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“That’s no way to talk to your supplier.” Sandy waved her index finger in his face.

Myles stood perfectly still. He didn’t want to give her any reason to draw her pointless babble out. “No problem. You’re just her mule.”

“It’s a good thing I find you so cute.” She took a step closer.

“Too bad the feeling isn’t mutual.” He stepped back.

“Here.” Sandy tossed him a bottle.

He dumped out the contents in his palm and counted the green pills.

“There’s only seven here.”
Great.
Now they’d be checking up on him once a week instead of once a month. “Why?”

“You’ve been a bad, bad vampire.” Sandy wet her lips.

Myles swallowed the anger blazing through him. “What’s your point?”

“He’s no fun. Is he?” Sandy shook her head at her witch coworker, who was currently winning the wall-flower prize.

Adjusting the skirt of her suit, Doris looked up at him. “Definitely not.”

He knew what they were doing, of course. Anything to get him to break the rules. But he’d almost served his sentence and had no intention of jeopardizing that. Although, the end of his term brought with it another set of problems. Namely, he’d lose his now-weekly supply of humanity.