Tooth And Nailed Part 5

Rowan scowled at him. "Duh, Jack. Come on, stop sugarcoating it. I though we were going to be honest with each other."

"Darling, I wouldn't be throwing the honesty stone if I were you, living in your little gla.s.s house. You can't even be honest about your own feelings."

She pointed a finger at him. "That's entirely different and you know it. We're not talking about giving in to hormones here, we're talking about my life. I want to know exactly what was so horrible I had to leave my job and fly halfway across the world to escape it."

He folded his napkin, watching her across the table. She kept her eyes steady and square on his, and finally he nodded. "Fine then. You want to know?" He placed the napkin on the table and folded his arms across his chest.

"The Army of G.o.d, or more specifically Stephen Job, is threatening to kidnap you and cleanse your soul of the sins of your father. According to the phone call they made to your father, they plan to do this by ritual torture, gang rape and burning you at the cross." He raised a brow. "Honest enough for you, darling?"

Rowan sat frozen for long moments, the picture his words painted swirling around in her head and making her nauseous. She concentrated on evening out her breathing, willing the enormous sandwich that had tasted so delicious to stay in her stomach. If it came back up, she'd never be able to eat another one again.

When she was sure she could speak without losing her supper all over the table, she cleared her throat. "Well. I'd rather you didn't let him do that, if it's at all possible."

He silently cursed himself. Her cheeks had gone porcelain white, her pupils dilated with shock. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

She shook her head, the motion jerky and abrupt. "No, I asked you to be honest."

"Well, you didn't ask me to be a flaming a.s.s about it," he muttered. He stared at her for a moment then surged to his feet, digging a few bills out of his pocket and dropping them on the table. "Come on, let's get some air." He held out a hand.

She stared at it for a moment then placed her hand in his. She let him pull her gently to her feet, felt him drape a protective arm around her shoulders, and soon found herself shepherded out of the bar and out into the starry night.

They walked in silence for a while, the only sound the click of their feet on the cobblestone street and the music and laughter drifting out of open windows. Rowan looked up, enchanted by the sheer number of stars hovering in the blackened sky and tried to quiet her rioting thoughts.

"You all right?" She turned her head at the quiet question to find Jack watching her soberly.

She shrugged. "I'm a little scared, honestly."

"Good."

The stark statement had her head whipping around in shock. "What?"

"If you're scared, you'll be careful," Jack explained, eyes steady and serious on hers. "I shouldn't have said it to you like that, Rowan, but I can't protect you if you insist on being foolish. I need you to know this is serious, not just a prank by a harmless lunatic."

"Believe me, I know it now." They walked on in silence for a moment. "I guess I just got used to the harmless lunatics. Dad's had so many of them come after him for one reason or another and they mostly turned out to be nothing. I guess I just figured this was the next one in line."

Jack shook his head, steering her down the side street leading to his flat. "Not the case this time, darling. This one's dangerous, which is why tucking you away was imperative. I've friends here still, friends I can count on to lend a hand if the going gets rough. Besides," he grinned at her. "It's the perfect opportunity to get you all to meself."

Rowan rolled her eyes, her good humor partly restored by the normalcy of his flirtatious tone. "I knew you had ulterior motives."

"Naturally, I've made no secret of them."

"Yeah, well don't expect to get lucky with me, Rent-A-Cop. I'm not that easy."

"I never thought you were," he said, "and is it necessary for you to call me that? Makes me feel as though I should be working at the mall, scolding teenagers for loitering near The Gap."

She grinned at him. "You could ride around in one of those little golf carts and carry a clipboard!"

He stared at her, the look of horrified shock on his face so comical that she burst out laughing. The longer he stared at her, the harder she laughed until she was holding her aching sides and struggling to stay on her feet.

"It's not that funny," he grumbled, and let go of her elbow. She gave a startled yelp at the sudden lack of support, pinwheeled her arms twice and went down hard on her backside, still giggling like a loon.

Every time she got herself under control, she looked up, saw the miffed expression on his face and started laughing all over again. Finally after her third bout, she figured she about had it beat.

"You finished?" he asked, and she risked looking at him. He was staring down at her, one eyebrow c.o.c.ked in that way he had, and though she continued to giggle, she managed to keep it in check.

"I think so," she sighed, wiping her streaming eyes. She held up her hands. "Help me up?" He grasped her fingers and unceremoniously hauled her up. She let out a startled squeak as she flew into the air as easily as if she were made of marshmallow fluff. She landed solidly against him, her feet dangling about a foot in the air as his arms banded around her like steel.

She gulped, the laughter fading. He was holding her high against his chest, her face even with his, and the look in those dark chocolate eyes had her heart skipping a beat then pounding a heavy rhythm in her chest.

"Um, Jack," she began, and that was all she managed to eek out before he swooped in.

His mouth descended on hers lightning fast and she froze, braced for a heavy a.s.sault. But he merely rubbed his lips over hers lightly, and the contrast between his hard embrace and the gentleness of the kiss threw her off balance. His tongue flickered out to taste the inside of her lower lip then to the corners then retreating again. His teeth nibbled lightly, tasting but not taking.

He grasped her hair in one hand, used it to tilt her head to one side and she moaned in antic.i.p.ation. But he didn't deepen the kiss. Instead he continued the tender a.s.sault on her mouth, kneading her skull and twining her hair around his big hand. Rowan moaned, lost in the sensations of his mouth nipping at hers, of his hand cradling her head and twisted to get closer. He held her in place easily, his superior strength not even challenged by her struggles, and suddenly the long months of resisting him, of denying herself that which she so desperately wanted, caught up with her in a rush and she'd had enough.

She moved her arms from where they were braced on his shoulders, grasped his head in both hands and bit his lower lip. Hard. He reared back, eyes narrowed so they were slits of inky black. He flicked out his tongue, catching the droplet of blood that seeped from his torn lip. He growled, a low rumble that slithered over her skin like a rough caress, and the desire pooling in her belly turned into something sharp and fierce at the sound.

"If you're going to kiss me," she hissed at him, "then quit f.u.c.king around and do it."

She barely had time to catch the flare of triumph in his expression before he slammed his mouth down on hers. She moaned in relief at the contact then stopped thinking period as he devoured her, using lips and teeth and tongue to eat at her mouth until her head spun and her blood boiled.

She felt him s.h.i.+ft and move, felt something hard press against her back, and dimly realized he'd backed her up against one of the buildings lining the street. He pulled his hand from her hair, his arm from where it had been wrapped around her hips, and she felt them working at the fastenings on her blouse. He fumbled for a moment with the tiny mother-of-pearl b.u.t.tons then with a curse, simply hooked his hands in the open neckline and yanked.

b.u.t.tons flew, clattering on the cobblestones, and Rowan gasped as he tore his mouth from hers. The narrow street was lit with only a street lamp at both ends and standing as they were in the shadow of the building, she could barely see him. But she could feel the heat of his eyes on her flesh. She didn't have to look down to know her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were spilling out of the cups of her bra, the nipples barely concealed by the sheer lace, and she felt rather than heard another growl rumble up in his chest.

She gave a brief thought to the fact they were standing on a public street then his mouth latched on to her flesh and she ceased thinking at all. He dragged his tongue along the upper swell of her breast, first one then the other, then grasped the delicate lace between the cups in his teeth and tugged. It broke clean, the cups falling away to hang by their straps, and his mouth was on her nipple, hot and wet. He wasted no time on preliminaries, simply pushed the aching peak to the roof of his mouth with his tongue and sucked hard, and Rowan felt herself sliding down the slippery slope to o.r.g.a.s.m.

She whimpered at the sensation, sparks going off behind her eyes as they drifted shut. They popped wide open again when he gripped her thighs in both big hands and tugged them apart. Reflexively her legs wrapped around his hips for balance and he wedged his hips into the opening, grinding the thick ridge of his erect c.o.c.k right where she needed it most, and she cried out shrilly as the o.r.g.a.s.m slammed into her without warning.

It seemed to go on forever, the shuddering convulsions prolonged by his voracious mouth at her breast and his hips grinding against her pulsing c.u.n.t through the layers of cloth still separating them. Gradually the shudders slowed, fading into the occasional tremor, and only then did he lift his mouth from her aching nipple.

Her eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dark and as she watched his head come up, her breath caught at the look of him. His eyes were all but glowing, the pupils a flame inside the black pool of his irises, and the snarling desire reflected there made her womb clench all over again. Then he licked his lips, drawing her eyes to his mouth and she froze.

"Oh my G.o.d," she breathed, her horrified gaze locked on his teeth. His very long, very pointy, very sharp-looking teeth. "What the f.u.c.k are you?"

Chapter Five.

Jack's expression, so open and full of naked desire only moments before was suddenly like stone. "What do you mean?" he asked in an odd, toneless voice.

Rowan pushed at his shoulders, panicking when he resisted. But after a long moment, he stepped back, releasing her just as quickly as he'd grabbed her only moments before. She slumped against the building, feeling the rough brick snag the delicate fabric of her blouse and bite into her skin as she struggled for understanding.

Unable to look him in the face, she looked down and a wave of appalled embarra.s.sment swept over her as she realized her clothes were in tatters. She grasped the edges of her bra and tried to pull them together over her exposed b.r.e.a.s.t.s for several minutes before she realized the clasp had been destroyed. Frustrated tears welled in her eyes and she gave up, simply pulling the edges of her blouse over her chest.

"Rowan," he said quietly.

"What?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the ground in front of her.

He cleared his throat, but when he spoke, his voice was still strained and tight. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine," she managed in a voice that only shook a little. A few moments pa.s.sed in tense silence then, "What are you?"

"Just a man, Rowan."

Her head came up, eyes narrowed as righteous indignation flooded though her. "Bulls.h.i.+t. Just men don't have f.u.c.king fangs."

He sent her a rueful smile, careful not to show any teeth. "Okay, maybe not just a man. But I am a man, fully human."

Her eyes widened. "Fully human," she managed. "As opposed to what, half human?"

"As opposed to not human."

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about, not human?" She held up a hand before he could answer. "You know what, I don't even want to know. I can't handle that right now." She crossed her arms tighter over her chest, acutely aware of her state of undress.

"We should get out of the street," he said, eyes dark and unfathomable as he stared at her in the faint light from the moon. Some of her trepidation must have shown on her face because he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I won't touch you again," he promised quietly. "But I really don't want to give you the explanation you deserve out here in front of G.o.d and everyone."

She stared at him for a long moment then slowly nodded. "Okay," she agreed.

They started walking slowly toward the apartment, Rowan being careful to keep a good arm's length between them. She s.h.i.+vered, chilled by the night breeze now that her blood had cooled.

Blood. She s.h.i.+vered at the thought, her mind still struggling to wrap itself around what she'd seen. She knew what fangs looked likea"she watched Buffy reruns. She'd just never actually seen them on a person before, at least not one who hadn't gone through extensive body modifications to get them. Jack's fangs were not a product of repeated dental visits or fake. Fake fangs didn't just appear and he hadn't had those extended eye teeth when they'd left the restaurant.

She s.h.i.+vered again, this time from more than the cold. She was an intelligent person, she had a f.u.c.king master's degree, and she knew what those teeth meanta"what they had to mean.

"Stop thinking so hard," Jack said quietly, causing her head to whip around to face him. He was watching her with a quiet intensity. "You're smart, you know what you saw. I'll answer all your questions as soon as we get to the flat."

She turned back to the path in front of her. She must not have as good a poker face as she thought if he could read her that easily, she mused.

"Your poker face is fine."

Rowan stopped dead a few steps from the stairs leading to his apartment. Oh my G.o.d, he's actually reading my mind!

Jack grimaced. "Sorry," he said, turning to face her, "but you're thinking so loud it's like you're shouting in my head. I can't not hear you."

Rowan felt her temper flare. "Well try!" She stomped past him, up the stairs to the apartment door then had to wait impatiently for him to unlock it. She tapped her foot, letting her temper build and getting a good head of steama"it might be easier to get through the coming conversation if she were p.i.s.sed off.

When he finally got the door unlocked, she swept through the door ahead of him, going straight into the kitchen and getting a beer out of the refrigeratora"thank G.o.d he didn't do the whole warm beer thing that was so popular here. It might be cowardly and she would probably be better off stone sober, but she'd already had two pints with dinner so what was one more bottle? She popped the top, took a long pull and turned back to the living room with remarkably false bravado.

"So," she said, "you're a vampire."

He laughed, startled. He ran his hand though his hair in a nervous gesture. "Well, that's certainly blunt."

She shrugged. "You said I was right."

He grinned ruefully and some of the tension eased out of his muscles. "So I did. Yes, I'm a vampire."

"Right." Rowan nodded, taking another sip of her beer. "So what the h.e.l.l does that mean?"

He sat down on the couch. "Let's start with something easy. Give me all the myths about vampires you know and I'll tell you if they're true or not."

Rowan frowned a littlea"he was acting so normal it was getting hard to hang on to her anger. "Fine," she huffed, and crossed the room to sit in a chair opposite him. "Let's see. Vampires drink blood, they need to sleep on their native soil and they burst into flames in sunlight."

"True, false, kind of true."

She frowned. "You kind of burst into flames in sunlight?"

He shrugged. "Let's just say I tan fast."

She blinked at that. "Okay. But you do drink blood."

"Yes."

She grimaced. "Do you have to?"

He chuckled. "Pretty much."

"Why?"

He shrugged again. "I'm not really good at making my own anymore."

Rowan's eyes bugged out as she suddenly remembered one other myth about vampires. "Oh sweet baby Jesus, I made out with a dead guy!"

"Actually, we prefer the term *undead'," he said, and roared with laughter at the nauseated look on her face.

"Ugh," she managed.

Jack was holding his sides and howling with mirth. "You look like you just swallowed a spider!"

"Are you dead?" she demanded, and he reined in his laughter with effort.

"Technically no," he said, still chuckling quietly. "I was turned before I died."

"Turned," she said. "You mean someone else made you a vampire?"

"That's how it works," he explained, and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, to explain. "Think of it like a virusa"it's transmitted from one person to another in a certain way, under certain circ.u.mstances."

"How?" she demanded, her curiosity overcoming her initial squeamishness at the idea.

He grinned at her. "C'mon, you watch Buffy reruns."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You stop reading my mind!"

"I wasn't. Honest," he said when she glared harder. "Everyonea"especially women in their thirtiesa"watches that show. It's been off the air for years, but for some reason people love it."