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Just in case, he stopped off at the nearest convenience store. Debbie’s endorsements were ringing in his ears; he had to admit the Dayborn had a point.
Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have some condoms on him if Tabby actually let him in the door.
Fingers crossed.
12
The first thing Tabby did when she walked into her apartment was pick up one of the decorative pillows on the couch, press it to her mouth, and scream.
There. That helped with some of her frustration.
It was Adam’s fault. Her Nightwalker got her all keyed up, promising her things with his smile and his kiss, only to chicken out at the last minute. And he did chicken out. Either that or he was overthinking it. During the long drive back to her place, he obviously convinced himself not to complicate their working relationship.
Probably because he was trying to “protect” her from his being a Para or some bullshit like that.
Ugh!
As if she didn’t know that he was a Nightwalker. That he was one of her family’s most ancient enemies. But that was work. When she looked at him, she didn’t see him as a threat—she saw him as a partner. So what if he had to survive on blood and couldn’t go out during the day? She rarely did, either, thanks to her job as a slayer and, as far as Tabby was concerned, he was more like a slayer than he was a target.
Plus he was caring. Chivalrous. Protective.
And he could kiss like no one’s business.
Tabby tossed the pillow back onto the couch. The screaming helped with the mental frustration, though it did shit for the sexual side of it. She was so aroused, she felt like she was ready to jump out of her skin at the first soft caress.
Too bad she was all alone.
Jeez. Adam couldn’t peel away from the curb fast enough.
With a scowl, Tabby turned and locked the door, cursing under her breath when the chain door lock wanted to mess with her again. Since she wasn’t going to have crazy, hot sex tonight, she might as well clean up and get ready to go out for another nighttime hunt.
Grabbing her shirt by the hem, she lifted it over her head, paying attention to the grass stains and the blood spatter from the earlier fights. Tossing it in the burn pile, she shimmied out of her jeans, deciding after a once-over that they could be saved. Dirt covered the side of her arm. A stray blade of grass or two fell out of her hair when she removed her ponytail holder.
A peek at her naked body in the hallway mirror made Tabby wince. Okay. So maybe that was another reason why Adam changed his mind. Bruises had bloomed over the last few hours, covering her from hip to tit. Her family was bred to have an unnaturally high pain tolerance so she didn’t even realize the hits had been that rough. She looked like her body had gone a couple of rounds with a heavyweight boxer instead of a shifter.
Lovely.
Good thing she had charmed soap in the bathroom. A couple of aspirins would kill the last of her stiffness, while the soap would help heal the visible bruises.
And the vibrator she stowed in her bedside table would take care of her more pressing ache.
It wasn’t Adam, but since she doubted she’d hear from him again until she got back in touch with Holly, it would have to do.
Less than an hour later, Tabby was loose, limber, and freshly showered. She’d yanked on fresh jeans, a long-sleeve shirt since it felt like summer rain was on its way, and was putting the finishing touches on her ponytail when her phone rang.
Her heart leaped into her throat—
Adam?
—only to sink suddenly when she read the name on the screen. Swallowing a disappointed sigh, she answered.
“Hi, Boone.”
“Tabitha. I see that you’re still at your rental. Are you going out tonight?”
“I was planning on it. Why? What’s up?”
Tabby thought he might have a tip for her.
