He would come for me. I knew it down to the marrow of my bones.
A figure stepped in front of the lamp. “Hello again.”
Gooseflesh rose up along my arms and neck. Fear flooded my mouth with a metallic taste. “You.”
My eyes adjusted, taking in the features of Landon Crane. Last time I’d seen him, he’d looked average, harmless. Now, I knew what he was. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. “What did you do to me?” I demanded, asking the question that had plagued me for weeks.
“I’d say the question is, what did you do to me?”
Hands held behind his back, Crane wore a striped button-up shirt tucked into jeans with a belt. The combed-back blond hair was thinning at his temples. He’d shaved off his beard, revealing a narrow chin, making him look ten years younger. That secret, unnerving smile pulled at the corner of his lips and his eyes were too fixated, as if he were swallowing information with them. He should be listening and laughing at a co-worker’s stories by the water cooler at some tech company, not lurking in the tunnels under the Vegas Strip.
My face twisted with confusion. “Youturned me into a vampire and dumped me in an alley, then sent a bunch of your sekhors to kill me.” It didn’t add up.
He rubbed his chin as he stepped away from the lamp. “Yes, I can see how none of this would make sense. But I never intended to kill you. I had sent my people toretrieveyou.” Annoyance thinned his lips and clipped his words. “Unfortunately, the brutes I’ve been turning sometimes get it in their pea-brains to go off-book. The bloodthirsty beasts are not in the habit of controlling their rage. But I didn’t let them hurt you.” His eyes rounded and glazed over. “I would never let them hurt you. You’re special. The moment they became loose cannons, I grabbed their will and forced them to walk away.”
I remembered how Bruiser’s face emptied every time he boiled over, then he walked away. Same thing with Milky-eye. The master had pulled the leash on his minions, hard. Well, I killed his doggos in the end.
He smoothed my staticky hair back. “I tried to show you that you and I were meant to be together, but you didn’t like the love note I left for you in the alleyway?”
I wanted to jerk my head away, my skin recoiling at his touch. But when I looked into his eyes I saw something more than a mild, inoffensive man.
I remembered this. Something tapped on my brain, waking up an old memory, the moment I realized Landon Crane wasn’t who he seemed.
When I walked into the restaurant twenty minutes early, Landon was already seated and waiting. Two glasses of red wine were on the table, but it didn’t seem as though he’d touched his. I didn’t move to touch the wine either, since I was A) a beer girl, and B) technically on the job.
I’d done my research, looked into his background. Made sure there would be no surprises. Crane had been pulled over and arrested when the officer discovered the car’s registration had expired and Crane had several unpaid parking tickets from all around town. Most people didn’t realize you aren’t allowed to pay parking tickets from jail. They’d released him, but he never paid the tickets, missed his court date, and seemed to all but vanish. That was four months ago.
But I’d found him online under an alias, Landon Bird (clever devil), and gotten him to agree to meet for a date. He was on multiple matchmaking sites. After a brief introduction and exchange of basic information at the restaurant—Hi, I work as an Uber driver, love puppies, and hope to travel in Europe someday—I’d pulled my move.
I’d leaned back in my chair and sent him a penetrating look coupled with a seductive half-smile. “Why don’t we cut to the chase here, Landon. I’m here to have a good time. While we could sit here, exchange some surface information about ourselves, we both know we are really waiting for what comes at the end of the evening. I like what I see and I’m suggesting we do what two consenting adults all too often deny themselves. Dessert before dinner.”
Most dudes were taken aback by my forward approach, but ultimately, I was a breath of fresh air. I took all the work out of the situation and promised a guilt-free nookie cookie most men would happily partake in.
Landon Crane only blinked at me.
I studied him back, wondering if he was slow. “Sex,” I finally said. “I’m talking about sex, Landon.” The waiter had started to approach but when he heard my words, he did his best to casually pivot past us.
“If we are dispensing with the pleasantries, don’t you think there will be something lost to the experience?” he finally asked.
“Are you telling me you aren’t interested in sex?”
“On the contrary, I am an avid thrill-seeker.” Eyes flicking up to mine, something unidentifiable lurking behind them, he added, “Contrary to my appearance.”
I decided to switch to a goading tactic. With a shrug, I ran my finger around the rim of the wine glass. “True, if I had to guess I’d say your idea of a wild night might be doing your taxes.”
Even after all my digging, it seemed his worst sin was that tidy stack of unpaid parking tickets that had gotten out of hand.
“A true thrill-seeker does not seek attention,” he said, straightening the napkin in his lap.
What the hell did that mean?
Some men instantly fell over themselves with the need to prove their masculinity or sexuality. But not this guy, cool as a cucumber.
The reality that I might actually have to stay and order food peeved me off. But then again, maybe getting him full and lethargic would add to the ease of slapping cuffs on him once we left the restaurant. Still, I didn’t relish spending a meal with this dude. He set my teeth on edge.
I shot him a flirtatious wink and gave him an obvious onceover. “What kinds of thrills do you seek?” I wanted him to take the bait, I wanted to get this over with and get away from this creepy vibe Landon Crane emitted.
“Do you ever wear lipstick?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly. His tone was too even, empty. There was a fathomless hunger about him that yawned open, threatening to swallow me whole.
