Chapter 12 Desire
"What? Now? Hermes will lose his mind if he finds out. What if someone sees you? You know the Vampire King is after you."
"Relax. I'll only be gone an hour or two," I said calmly. "And the last time I checked, vamps can't walk around in the sunlight."
"Niko, we can't take that chance. Remember what my informant said..."
I snarled. "You can trust that hood rat if you want, but I don't. He's one of them. I don't give a damn if he tipped you off that the Vampire King is in town, he still sucks blood for a living."
"He said he doesn't drink human blood," she let out.
"And you believe him?" I let out a low, amused laugh. Then I studied her face. "You slept with him, didn't you?"
She quicky turned her head away. "At least I'm not slumming it with humans. How many human chicks have you slept with in here, Nikolai?"
"Countless," I answered without blinking. "But I've never fucked a dead thing. I wonder what your brother would say if he knew about this."
Her eyes snapped back to mine. "You wouldn't dare."
I laughed again, cold and bored. "Rip, I don't care who you sleep with. Just be careful. Vampires and werewolves are known enemies for a reason." I stepped past her and reached for the doorknob. "Now step aside. I'm leaving."
"But you can't, the concert starts in six hours. We need to rehearse—"
"RIPLEY." I stopped in front of her. "Move. I need some fresh air."
She reached for me again, but I was already heading for the door. I stepped outside, swung a leg over my motorcycle, and pulled my helmet on.
"Wait! Nikolai, don't go!"
I didn't answer. The engine roared to life, and I shot down the dirt path away from the trailers.
I kept off the main roads, sticking to back routes where paparazzi wouldn't bother looking. My mind was blank, the way it usually was, until a strange tug in my gut made me glance to the side.
I was passing a place called Crusty's Diner. My instincts urged me to stop, but the building looked like even I would get food poisoning just by walking inside. I kept going.
The Vampire King had been trying to kill me for years, even though his problem was never with me. His vendetta was with my father. Somehow, though, I was always the one paying the price.
Honestly, my father had gotten me into more trouble than my own cock ever had, and that was saying something.
Ripley's informant was supposed to meet us behind the Dumpsters at the Fang Bang Club the other night, he said he had something important to tell us, something that would derail the Vampire King's operation and end him once and for all, but at the last minute he texted that the location was compromised and we'd have to reschedule.
Except I saw him.
He wasn't hiding. He was pressed up against Wildfire like he was about to kiss her, whispering in her ear like she belonged to him.
My stomach twisted at the sight, an ugly, sour feeling I couldn't explain. Maybe it was disgust. Maybe it was annoyance. Maybe it was the thought of her being a fang-banger.
Either way, it made me sick.
I sped up my motorcycle and I caught a glimpse of a head full of red hair marching down the sidewalk.
Could it be?
The closer I got, the stronger her scent hit me, berries and morning dew.
Wildfire.
This must be my lucky day.
I braked hard, skidding the motorcycle to a stop beside her. She jumped, startled, staring at me with those green eyes.
"Hello again, Wildfire."
She stood there staring at me, clearly scrambling for words. I lifted the front of my helmet so she could see my eyes, and the second our gazes locked, I understood why she looked so flustered.
She was practically naked, walking down the street with nothing but her handbag tucked under her arm—and somehow she looked like the most intoxicating thing I had ever seen in my life. Human or supernatural, no one had ever hit me like she did at first sight.
"So," I said with a smirk, "this is an interesting outfit to go shopping in."
"Go ahead, mister. Laugh at me. Get a good look and take a long, healthy laugh."
As if summoned by her misery, a Mustang rolled by. A couple of guys leaned out the windows and catcalled loudly. "Hey baby! Nice racks!"
A low growl slipped out of me before I could stop it.
"Oh God, this is not my day!" she groaned, dragging her hand over her face.
I sighed, flipped off the bike, and removed my helmet. The moment she saw my face, her breath hitched. She swallowed hard, and I caught the warm spike of her arousal in the air.
I thought she would have recognized me as Nikolai, the lead singer of Creatures of the Night, but it didn't seem like she did. She wasn't fangirling like every other woman I met.
Maybe she knew who I was, but was trying to play it cool, trying not to let me see how I affected her.
I appreciated that. It made her even sexier.
Without a word, I stripped off my shirt and handed it to her.
"Here. Put this on. And don't argue with me."
She pouted, those soft, full lips, then took the shirt and slipped it on. It swallowed her frame in the best possible way. "Thanks," she mumbled.
"You're welcome," I said, fighting the temptation to stare. "Do you live around here?"
"Yes."
"Do you want a ride?"
She looked left, then right, like she expected the pavement itself to mock her. "Yes, please. I'm too embarrassed to walk anymore."
"Then hop on," I said, handing her the helmet. "I'll take you home."
And for the first time in a long time, even without a soul, I felt something spark inside me. Something dangerously close to desire.