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Where they would’ve turned back to the den, Riaz kept straight, the motorcycle carrying them toward downtown Estes Park. No one could deny the charm of the city, and his lips curled as he absorbed the scenic drive that transitioned seamlessly to town.
Riaz slowed the bike, crawling through the main streets as his passenger peered curiously at their surroundings. Shops buttoned alongside the road, their classic exteriors bringing with it a sense of times past. While some bore a resemblance to the style of the roaring twenties, others were built with natural facades, rugged wood and shingles designed to bear tribute to the mountains in which they resided.
Streetlamps illuminated the paths of bag-laden shoppers, most businesses already having closed their doors for the night. The very nature of the town would be a stark contrast to New York City where Cortana lived, where everything was designed to be fast and furious, always open, and never happy to see you.
Here, time was far more content, opting instead for a leisurely skip rather than a mad dash.
It was one of the things Riaz appreciated most about the town. Tourists might come and go—and take all the best parking spots—but there was a quaintness about his adopted hometown that he’d never take for granted.
He’d traveled the world, but never found anywhere quite like Estes Park.
Chapter Nine
From where she sat behind Riaz, Cortana admired each unique trait of the mountain town. She was internally screaming at the departure from what she’d scheduled, but she didn’t comment while he drove them to wherever their destination might be.
She discovered the answer only a few minutes later. Parking, Riaz gestured for her to jump off first. As she pulled her arms back from his middle, she felt a stab of loss at the contact, but dismissed it just as quickly. The wolf took her helmet when it was offered to him, setting his on the opposite handlebar.
When he glanced down to check a notification on his phone, she idly brushed the end of her braid against her palm. She’d pulled it forward, absently fiddling with it to expel some of her energy. It’d built up after their scouting mission, and now it made her keen to funnel it somewhere useful.
An anxious trait, she’d developed a habit of fiddling with her daggers when her nerves got the better of her. Concealed as they were beneath her jacket and given their surroundings, Cortana couldn’t risk extracting them, so her braid had to make do.
Clearing her throat to alert the wolf of her waning patience, she caught his eye as a mischievous smile slanted over his face. “Ready, Cort?”
“My name isn’t Cort.”
“Who doesn’t love a good nickname?”
“Apparently not me, Riaz.”
Intensity darkened his gaze. “Say it again.”
Shocked at the sudden change, she recoiled, looking him over from head to toe. “Say what again?”
“My name.” Hungrily, he licked his lips, the ruddy brown of his eyes looking near black with the night. “Say my name again.”
“No, I shan’t.” She wasn’t a coin-operated girl, waiting for her next command. “Why are we here and not back at the den? I have things scheduled out this entire evening. Have you planned on vamp-napping me? Because I assure you, I’m not worth it.”
“Oh, I very much doubt that.” His voice dropped an octave lower, the tone a sensual rumble that fell from his lips like a beckoning call. Then, as if realizing the effect he was having on her, he shook himself and took a step back. “I’m feeding you.”
She blinked.
A voracious hunger suddenly bloomed in her gut, the yearning to taste him shivering over her skin like a thousand kisses. But as her body willed it to be true, her mind revolted. He wouldn’t offer his blood to her, here of all places.
Surely, he wasn’t offering himself up on a platter to a vampire’s fangs.
Riaz jerked a chin to the restaurant just down the street, a hole in the wall that boasted the best burger in Colorado. Following mutely, Cortana fought off the sensation of being let down, knowing instinctively that it was for the best.
Even though it’d been four centuries ago, Cortana still didn’t trust herself when her emotions became volatile, and her desire ran hot.
The hostess, a beaming twenty-something who actively batted her lashes at Riaz, eagerly led them to a table outside, yellow lights strung up above the seating area. Only a few couples sat out on the patio this late, leaving them in awkward intimacy when the hostess begrudgingly made her exit.
“You know I don’t eat, right?”
This time, it was Riaz’s turn to blink in shock. “What?”
“Vampires don’t eat.” She shrugged, hoping it came across as casual. “Not food, anyway.”
Eyebrows knitting together, he scrutinized her like she was trying to pull a fast one on him. “Blood is your main thing—sure—but I thought you could still eat things occasionally. You’re telling me you don’t eat anything, ever? Not even ice cream? Chocolate? A hot dog?”
