Sunglasses at Night Page 8

  Bracing her forehead against the wooden door, she snapped, “Go away, Eddie.”

  “Who the hell is Eddie?”

  Not the person on the other side of the door, obviously.

  Tabby reached up on her tiptoes, peering out of the peephole. The angle was weird, the glass distorted, but she thought she caught a glimpse of oversized black sunglasses covering half of a man’s face.

  No. Not man.

  Nightwalker.

  What was he doing out there?

  Suddenly awake, she fumbled with the chain lock at the top of the door. It was like it was stuck, or maybe she was just so frazzled knowing Adam was out there. Frustrated, she nearly ripped the lock off its hinge before remembering that she was subletting the place. Taking a deep breath, she settled herself, finally unlocked the door, and swung it in.

  “Adam?”

  “Hey, Tabitha. Can I come in?”

  Nightwalkers didn’t need permission to enter a dwelling—something else pop culture got way wrong—but Adam stood in the doorway, one arm braced against the side, obviously waiting for her answer.

  “Um. Sure.” Stepping aside, she invited him in. “And it’s Tabby. Remember?”

  “Tabby. Of course.”

  She stared at him. Shit. He’d swapped his sweats for a pair of dark blue jeans that molded to his thick thighs, highlighting his tight ass as he sidled past her. Even better, he was wearing a black t-shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and those corded forearms… unf.

  If it was possible, he looked even better tonight than he did the last time she saw him. And since she couldn’t stop thinking about his bite these last few days, that was saying something. Tabby had almost convinced herself that she’d let her lady parts remember him more fondly than he deserved.

  Nope.

  Adam Wright was gorgeous.

  And she was in even bigger trouble than before.

  “Didn’t expect to see you again.”

  He ran his hand through his slicked-back hair, a frown pulling on his lush lips. She could see the points of his fangs peeking out from under his top lip. Fledgling, hardly an inch long, but fangs all the same.

  And he wasn’t even trying to hide them.

  Interesting.

  This Nightwalker was always so interesting.

  And then he admitted, “I didn’t want to come back here. Trust me. But… I think you might be my only hope.”

  Well, that wasn’t a blow to her pride or anything.

  “Why’s that?”

  He glanced over at her. Tabby could just about make out her reflection in the mirror lenses on his dark sunglasses. “Because you’re a slayer.”

  And the hits keep coming. Not as if she’d forgotten how epically she already screwed up by telling him what she was. But did he have to remind her?

  Tabby wanted to blame it on the lingering headache and her lack of sleep when she said snappishly, “What about it? And make it quick, champ. It’s almost dawn.”

  “Okay. I’ll cut right to it then. What do you know about something called De Vivre?”

  He butchered the french, but that was alright. Tabby knew exactly what he was talking about.

  Only… how did he?

  Tabby blinked, kicking her brain into overdrive. She had to think.

  On the one hand, her uncle had spent her entire lifetime warning her against spilling their family’s secrets.

  But the elixir wasn’t a slayer secret, was it?

  Technically, it belonged to the Nightwalkers. Well, not really. If she was being honest, the elixir really belonged to the witches. Like most potions that were tied together with magic, the ingredients do shit unless you knew what you were doing plus had the power to pull it off. While it would only work on a Nightwalker, a witch would have to make it.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I’ve heard a rumor that it could fix this.” He waved one of his big hands in front of his chest, gesturing at himself. “It could fix me.” Widening his mouth, Adam ran his tongue along the point of one fang before shaking his head. “I’d do anything to go back to being human.”

  He was sure as hell proving it. No one came to a slayer with a request like that unless they were desperate. And a Nightwalker? Never.

  In her experience, the turned vampires relished being changed into a paranormal. Those who couldn’t adjust didn’t last more than a few days out of their turning; they’d walk right into the sun instead. If they got past the blood-drinking and grew used to the increased sensitivity, they were usually pleased as punch to stay that way.

  “How long have you been a Nightwalker?”

  “Six months. Since December. Why? Does that make a difference with the… the De Vivre?”

  “The elixir,” she told him. “Trust me, it’s easier to spit out and most people in the know will still get what you’re saying.”

  “Right. The elixir. Is there a time limit or something?”

  Not that Tabby knew about. Supposedly, any Nightwalker who downed the elixir could reverse the change. It wouldn’t be pleasant, and they’d lose everything—the enhanced senses, the speed, the extended life—as soon as they came out on the other side of the spell.

  That was the rumor, at least, and with a shrug, she tried her best to explain that to Adam.

  If she thought her explanation would be enough to put him off this crazy idea he had, she was wrong.

  “That’s it? I just need to find a witch? That’s… that’s great. I actually know one. Shea… she couldn’t heal me, but maybe she can help me get the elixir.”

  Tabby felt a tiny twinge at the easy way he mentioned this Shea person. Was it jealousy?

  Crap. Maybe.

  She shook her head. “I wish it was that easy. It’s not just any witch who can make the elixir. Actually, last I heard, there was maybe… I don’t know. Like five?” Hopefully she wasn’t just pulling that number out of her ass. It sounded right, though. “Maybe five in the whole world who even know how to make it.”

  “So… what you’re telling me is that I’m shit out of luck.” Adam’s shoulders slumped. “I should’ve known it was too good to be true.”

  Most things in this world were.

  Tabby opened her mouth. It was better that he got over the idea now. If the rumors she heard were true, even five witches with the knowledge was probably being generous. And since witches were basically mercenaries, unless he was rolling in diamonds, there was a chance he’d never be able to afford the elixir even if he found one who could make it for him.

  She knew what she should do, which was why she was so surprised when she heard herself say, “I can help you.”

  “You can?”

  I can?

  Tabby thought about it. Actually, it wasn’t such a bad idea. Even though her mouth ran ahead of her brain sometimes, she realized that helping Adam Wright get his claws on some elixir was the best case scenario for a couple of different reasons.

  One: in her line of work, one less Nightwalker in the world lessened the weight on her shoulders.

  Two: if he went from a Para to a human, she wouldn’t get in as much trouble for blabbing about being a slayer. Though the Society looked down on any of the Normies finding out her secret, that was nothing compared to what they would do if they knew she’d told a Para—and let him live after the fact.

  And, most importantly, three: if Adam was human, maybe they could finally act on this strange attraction crackling between them.

  After the near orgasm he gave her during his bite, Tabby did a bit of soul-searching. The way he pulled back before he took too much—the look of horror on his face as he confessed that she was his first bite—convinced her that it might be worth it to try out that monster dick she felt beneath his glorious sweatpants.

  If Adam was game, so was she. Something told her that he’d be careful to keep space between them until he could trust himself—and that probably wouldn’t be while he was a Nightwalker.

  But if he was human...


  She grinned. And if it was a little devilish? Oops. “For a price, I can. Sure.”

  His expression went guarded. Even with the sunglasses, it was still so easy to read him. That day when he bit her hadn’t been a one-time thing. She really could pick up on what he was thinking—and what he was trying to hide from her, too.

  “What’s your price?” Adam asked. “If it’s money, that’s fine. I’ve got more than enough. And if it’s something else… I won’t break the law. Human law or the Claws Clause. I might be stuck like this for now, but I was a cop. A good one, too. I’ve got lines I won’t cross.”

  She sincerely hoped that he didn’t mean that. Because when she thought about Adam? Crossing lines with him was on her mind way more than it should’ve been.

  “Let’s just call it a favor.”

  “Tabby—”

  “Nothing bad. Nothing illegal,” she clarified because, the more she understood him, the more she figured that’s what he meant when he was talking about crossing lines. “Just a favor. If there’s something I want and it won’t cost you much to do it, I’ll call it in and then we’re square. Sound good?”

  His brow furrowed, as if he could sense she had an ulterior motive, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

  She had one, too. An ulterior motive. Of course she did. Tabby already knew exactly what she was going to ask of him, as soon as she could get away with it. Not that she was going to tell him that.

  It would be way more fun this way.

  8

  Woodbridge was a small, cozy, hole-in-the-wall town about two hours out of Grayson. A mixed town, it was closer to Coventry, which definitely explained the higher witch numbers. Despite the wooded area that gave it its name, there weren’t too many shifters, though, probably because it was nowhere near pack land.

  From the little bit of research he pulled off before he left with Tabby, there didn’t seem to be a big vampire population around, either. It was too far from the Bumptown, and considering a washed-out, pale vamp in shades couldn’t pass like other Paras, it was rare to find one in a place like this.

  Or maybe he was just projecting.

  They took his car, since Tabby didn’t have one of her own, and if he wanted to double-check the address she gave him when they started out, he kept his mouth shut because, after all, she was helping him.

  To his surprise, she pulled this all together within a handful of days of his visit to her apartment. When the slayer called him just before dawn that morning, telling him that she set up a meet with someone who could help him out with the elixir, that they wanted to meet in Woodbridge at precisely three o’clock the next morning, he couldn’t believe how fast she worked.

  Shit. She must really want that favor.

  He had to hustle. He called Colt before he went to sleep for the day, making sure the shifter knew that he wouldn’t be able to take any deliveries that night. Then he called Hudson, ordering an extra bag of blood to guzzle that he picked up before he stopped by Tabby’s. The slayer had made it clear that she had to tag along for the meet so the extra blood was essential. Since they’d be traveling together, he couldn’t risk being around her if he was even the least bit thirsty.

  The drive was actually kinda nice. Though Adam was supposed to focus on the road while Tabby acted the part of navigator, any awkwardness due to their unspoken attraction faded away after Tabby popped a piece of bubblegum in her mouth, cranked the radio up, and sang along to nearly every single song that played, whether she knew the correct words or not. And though her voice would never earn her a recording contract, she clearly enjoyed herself—and he enjoyed that.

  There was something about her. That night in her apartment wasn’t a fluke. He was drawn to her in a way that he hadn’t been drawn to a woman in a long, long time.

  Damn it. Why couldn’t he have met her when he was still human?

  Then again, if he’d been human, he never would’ve caught the attention of a slayer in the first place. And, even though he hated to admit it, if he’d been human, he would’ve walked away from her the second he found out she was involved with the Para world.

  Now he was Para.

  And she was still a slayer.

  His mortal enemy, according to Debbie and Diaz.

  But if he took the elixir… well, he’d be human again with a whole new outlook on paranormals. He could touch her without fear of cutting her with his claws. He could kiss that lush mouth without worrying about his fangs. And, when he was done with her mouth, he could kiss other parts of her and—

  “Hey. You alright?”

  Lost in his fantasies, zoning out on the empty road ahead of him, he didn’t realize that Tabby was trying to get his attention until she nudged him in the thigh.

  He jumped, jerking the wheel just enough to drop his stomach down to his boots before he hurriedly righted the car.

  Tabby squealed, the sound more of a laugh than a cry of fright, her hand shooting out toward the oh, shit bar over her head. “Whoa.”

  “Shit. We’re good. Yeah, we’re good.” Maybe. His heart was beating a mile a minute. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his claws scratching at the plastic underside. When he heard the creak-ing sound, he loosened his hold before he crumpled the damn thing. “Sorry about that.”

  “Eh. It was probably more my fault than anything. You looked like you were in the zone, but I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

  “I’m fine. I was just... just thinking.”

  “Really?” Tabby lowered her hand from the grab bar, twirling the ends of her ponytail with her pointer finger as she leaned back into her seat, angling her body so that she was watching him more closely. “Whatcha thinking about?”

  You naked.

  He cleared his throat. “Thinking about this meet, that’s all. You sure your contact is going to help me get the elixir? And that it actually might fix me?”

  “Didn’t know you were broken.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Tabby shrugged. “As sure as I am about anything which is, I don’t know, fifty/fifty?”

  “You’re kidding.” When she didn’t say anything, just hummed along to the radio, Adam turned so that he could get a look at her face. “You’re kidding, Tabby. Right?”

  “Ah, don’t worry so much, champ. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  He could be double-crossed.

  This could be a set-up.

  The elixir might be an elaborate hoax.

  He could be stuck as a Nightwalker for the rest of his unnaturally long life.

  He might finally give in to the dark urge to taste her again—

  She lifted her phone up, tapping the screen with her thumbnail, gesturing to the blinking dot. Rapping on the dashboard with her other hand, she ripped Adam’s head out of his traitorous thoughts in time for him to follow the point of her dainty finger.

  “Over there. Park over there.”

  He pulled the car over, though he didn’t kill the engine. He left it idling while he leaned in his seat, peering through the windshield. With as dark as it was out there, how the hell did Tabby know she had the right spot? She’d been following her maps app as soon as they crossed into Woodbridge so he didn’t doubt her… only, if this was the meet-up spot, it wasn’t anything like he expected.

  For one thing, it was an empty stretch of road. Trees stood tall on both sides, a whisper of the moon peeking out from between the high treetops. The sky was inky black, an ocean of pitch rolling over their heads without a single cloud in sight.

  No houses. No stores. If it wasn’t for the street light winking in the distance and the stray utility poles popping up along the dirt path edging the asphalt, Adam might have thought he’d been thrown back in time. Growing up in the ‘burbs of East Windsor, spending his adult life in Grayson, he was used to a more urban environment. Woodbridge was a small town, though, and this corner of it proved it was more rural than he would’ve guessed.

 
“Why here?”

  “Seems like you’re not the only one who’s worried that the world’s out to get him. The witch we’re supposed to meet arranged for us to talk here.”

  “Is it safe?”

  Tabby gave him a look. While still staring over at him, she blew a bubble too big to control. It was half the size of her head when it suddenly popped, leaving strands of pale pink bubblegum clinging to her lips.

  God, he wanted to lick it off.

  He must’ve given it away. Not from the gleam in his eyes—the mirrored sunglasses would’ve hidden that—but maybe the way his jaw went tight? Something. His fangs burned, begging to lengthen, and it took everything he had to keep them short with the blonde temptation quirking her eyebrows at him.

  “Thirsty?” she asked.

  More like he was hungry.

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled, turning off the car before palming his keys. “And, yeah, stupid fucking question. I know. I’m a Nightwalker and you’re—”

  “I’m a slayer,” she agreed, snapping her gum with a grin. “No matter where we go, it’s safe so long as we’ve got our weapons. A witch might have magic, but they need time to get a spell off. That’s the good thing about Venice. In the right hands, she can even beat a witch.”

  “Venice?”

  Tabby reached down to the scabbard resting in her lap. She pulled on the hilt, sliding the long etched dagger out of its sheath. It was about five inches wide, close to ten inches long.

  The same weapon he saw her wearing when she was hunting the Nightwalker the other night.

  “A cinquedea dagger. I call her Venice because that’s where this type of weapon got its start. She’s been with me since I graduated from training. I’ve known her longer than most people in my life. Might as well give her a name. Ready?”

  Adam nodded, still thinking about what she said.

  She had a point, he decided. He might not have named his sidearm or anything like that, but when he had to hand that and his badge over to his former sergeant when he quit the force, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a tug in his gut.

  Tabby slid her blade back in its holder, fastening it to her belt as she opened her door and climbed out of her seat. Adam made sure he had his own blade—unlike Tabby, he usually stowed it in a hidden ankle sheath instead of visibly on his waist—and paid attention to what he was doing with his keys. As soon as he stepped out of the car, he engaged the lock button just in case, then tucked the keys in his front pocket.