Kiss Me, Kill Me Page 10

  He frowned and peered hard at me. ‘Are you alright?

  I was probably sporting glazed eyes and a slight flush. Perhaps he assumed I had a fever. I took a deep breath and focussed. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. I was starting to get a bit sore, so Scott got me an ice pack.’ I turned and hiked up my T-shirt to show him the ice pack resting against my lower back, with its nifty Velcro straps that were fastened around me.

  ‘I’ll give you a treatment tonight,’ said Greg.

  ‘Thank you.’ I was thankful. I honestly was. Except I knew there would be no sex (wild/monkey/otherwise) on the agenda.

  ‘How’s Mel?’ Scott piped up from the other sofa.

  Greg blew out a long breath and scrubbed a hand over his hair. When I sat back down, he sat beside me. ‘She’s getting stronger. She stayed awake after feeding this time. The closer it got to dawn, the harder she struggled to remain awake. She finally conked out about an hour ago.’ He closed his eyes and pressed his thumb and forefinger into the inner corners. He wouldn’t have a headache. This was a purely human habit he’d carried over from when he’d been purely human. ‘If I’m being honest, she’s a monumental pain in the ass right now.’

  Scott said, ‘Hmmm.’

  And I said, ‘Mm-hm.’

  ‘Is this what usually happens?’ asked Scott. ‘I mean, will she get over this stage and go back to…kinda normal?’

  Greg let out a huge sigh. ‘I don’t remember much from my early days. It’s all a blur. I am aware that I was feral and out of control at first. Incapable of rational thought.’

  Scott and I both knew how Greg’s maker had let him loose from the get-go. He’d actually killed people. It was something that would probably haunt him until the end of his days. If there ever was an end to his days. We understood how he had felt more animal than human for a while. How he’d been so consumed with bloodlust, all he cared about was feeding. How his maker had not divulged any information regarding the becoming/being/ending of a vampire. So basically, Greg was going on what he’d experienced or could remember experiencing. And the rest? Back to conjecture.

  ‘What do think, though?’ asked Scott. He seemed to have reached the point where he needed someone to tell him everything was going to be okay.

  ‘She’ll be fine. I recovered from that feral stage. Mel will, too.’ The statement was infused with confidence I’m sure Greg didn’t actually feel.

  Scott stood and came over to our sofa. ‘Thanks, mate.’ He clapped Greg on the shoulder. ‘I’m off to bed. Night, guys.’ He dropped a kiss on top of my head and headed for the door.

  ‘Night…uh, morning,’ I said in response. Scott spared me a faint sad-looking smile before closing the door and trudging farther up the hill to his villa.

  Greg and I were silent for some moments. Then Greg said, ‘This sleep cycle is going to be hell on you when you have to go back to work.’

  ‘Yup.’ My plan was to drive home that night so I could return to work the next morning. I had heaps of holiday leave stored up, barely having taken any time off over the years. I had accrued a fair amount of long service leave because I’d been working for the same employer since I’d joined the workforce. And I’d worked a lot of overtime hours (something the blood bank didn’t pay for, letting employees accrue holiday leave instead). I wished I could stay up here with the others until Melanie was sorted out, but I had meetings to attend, a talk to present, and I should get some experiments done. Because data doesn’t helpfully collect itself so papers can be written.

  ‘Come on,’ Greg said, getting up from the sofa. He grasped my hand and pulled me to my feet again. Probably a good thing because I was beginning to experience a bit of stiffness in the lower back-to-ass region.

  Not long after, I was naked and facedown on the bed with Greg straddling me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t being sexed up. I was grateful I was receiving one of Greg’s excellent Bowen therapy treatments. I was, I was, I was.

  I was also horny.

  I’m only human.

  I was the only human. I wasn’t the only one who was horny.

  I felt Greg’s erection brush against my thigh when he shifted position. Sadly, Greg was in professional-doctor mode. He didn’t usually straddle his patients—that was something reserved specifically for me. Thank goodness!

  He didn’t get erections while treating his clients, either. He’d better bloody not!

  But he was professional in the sense that he ignored the beautiful ready-for-action instrument of pleasure in his pants and continued doing the small yet effective manipulations on my body.

  Which I did my best to be thankful for. I was thankful. Yes.

  And Horny.

  Horny.

  Horny.

  Chapter Twelve

  At 11:45 p.m. on Friday, two weeks later, I was in Greg’s car as he drove me back to Lorne.

  I’d spent the fortnight putting in long hours at the lab. I’d had to forgo the trip back to Lorne the previous weekend due to a workshop I’d needed to attend. Greg had spent the days working at his practice, then employed his super-vamp speed to transport him back to Lorne so he could be with Melanie every night. It was possible for me to travel short distances with Greg while he used vamp-powered transportation. I would feel disoriented, dizzy and like some tiny bugger had flown into my throat and was playing fisticuffs with the areas associated with my usually non-responsive gag reflex. I preferred my G.R. to remain stoic. Therefore, long distances were a definite no-go. Hence the car trip.

  A few days earlier, we’d been excited because Greg believed Melanie was ready to get out of the lair to go hunting.

  Only hours later, that excitement had curled up and kicked the bucket.

  Melanie could hunt. According to Greg, she was a natural. Unfortunately, she refused to consume blood from animals. After only a couple of pulls of sheep juice, she had spat it out, screeched that it tasted like shit, thrown a tantrum, then leapt on Greg and drunk his blood instead.

  Honestly, she was the biggest pain-in-the-ass vampire on the planet. Admittedly, I was acquainted with a sum total of two vamps, so my sample size was laughable. But I had this feeling deep in my bones that I was right.

  Most of the journey to Lorne was spent talking about our recalcitrant vampire. Greg worried that he’d done the wrong thing by not introducing her to animal blood earlier in the process. I assured him Melanie would have been a difficult child no matter what he’d done. It actually felt as though we had a child. Greg had been staying up late, doing the feedings. At this stage, he was focussed on trying to teach her good behaviour. We were analysing how to treat her, what we could do better, and where we’d gone wrong.

  I had to stay alert and not let her eat me.

  Ya. Exactly like having a teenager.

  Sadly for us, our child had completely skipped the cutesy infant stage.

  Greg put his hand over mine. ‘I’ve missed you, sweetheart.’ Those four words, in a quiet yet rough voice, told me many things. He was exhausted. He needed hugs, possibly hair stroking, and my hands touching or petting his naked body. He wanted sex. Plus, he missed me.

  ‘God, I’ve missed you, too.’ I turned my hand in his, so our palms touched. We grasped each other tightly. We hadn’t been around each other for ages. We hadn’t been close (had sex) for approximately fifteen years (since the day Melanie arrived at the airport). I may have made a slight error in the time calculation. It was hard to do maths while Greg was touching me.

  ‘I wish I could take you to bed as soon as we get there,’ said Greg.

  ‘Mmmm,’ I said, and clenched.

  All I wanted to do upon arrival was quickly check in on Melanie. Just to make sure she was still alive and hadn’t pulled the lair down around her ears. Following that, I wanted to get to the villa post haste (I’d even risk some nausea and travel via vamp transport), fall into bed, have deeply passionate sex with Greg, then sleep for one hundred hours.

  I’d love to fall asleep in Greg’s arms, but he’d probably ha
ve to stay with Melanie. She was getting testy from being locked up in the lair. And she’d be in a crappier mood tonight, because, for the first time, Greg hadn’t been there at sunset. He’d had a work function that had kept him out until almost 11:00 p.m. It was all well and good to spend as much time as possible with Melanie, the flip-side being, we still had work and commitments and lives that had to go on as if nothing unusual was happening.

  No, we have not created, nor are we bringing up, a vamp-child with a bad attitude. And picky eating habits.

  Speaking of eating habits, Greg had left Melanie some of his blood, so when she woke, she wouldn’t be hungry. I’d brought blood from work for Greg, as well as for Melanie. I figured she should have some variety in her diet. Greg and I weren’t a total failure in the parental stakes.

  By the time we arrived at Scott’s, it was the early hours of the morning. As Greg drove towards the lair, we bypassed the path that would take us up to the villas. I stared longingly in that direction, wishing I could be lying on the big plush bed, wearing nothing but a warm blanket of Dr Greg Morgan.

  We had responsibilities that came first. Kids! They put such a damper on your sex life.

  Greg pulled up in front of the roller door. I was busy grabbing my handbag and the couple of bags of bakery items from the backseat of the car when Greg swore and said, ‘I bloody well told him not to go in.’

  I hustled over. As Greg was sliding the door up, I asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Scott’s left this damn thing unlocked.’

  Greg had told me Scott hadn’t seen Melanie since that last time she’d attempted to hug me through the bars. “Hug me” sounded so much nicer than grab me and tear my throat out. Greg had decided Melanie was not fit for company and had given Scott strict instructions to stay away from the lair. Today, we were going to attempt visiting again (albeit from a safe distance from the bars). No one was supposed to go anywhere near Melanie unless Greg was present. Poor Scott must have been going out of his mind being kept away from Melanie for two weeks.

  ‘He knows not to get too close,’ I said in an attempt to placate Greg.

  Greg didn’t respond, but as we walked into the lair, I could see him grinding his jaw.

  Hoping to avoid a fight/harsh-word exchange/anything remotely antagonistic between the guys, I whispered loudly in a singsong voice as I walked in, ‘Sco-tty, I come bearing gifts.’ I listed off the items in the bakery bags as if I was luring Scott out of hiding. ‘I have donuts, apple slice, lamingtons—’

  ‘Shit!’ Greg exclaimed so loudly, his voice seemed to bounce off the walls and reverberate in my head.

  I stopped and stared with my mouth agape at the scene before me.

  Blood on the bed and floor. The gate open. And the cage? Very fucking empty.

  Before I comprehended what was happening, Greg was pushing me into the cage and locking me inside.

  ‘What?’ was all I managed to utter.

  ‘This is the safest place for you, Ana.’ He reached through the bars and held out the key. When I opened my hand, he pressed the key into my palm, closing my fingers around it. ‘Do not unlock this gate. Don’t come out until I come get you.’ A pause. ‘Or a very long time has passed.’ A stroke of his finger down my cheek, and then he was gone.

  ‘Wait!’ I yelled. I needed to talk about the fact that Greg considered there was a danger of him not coming back. I couldn’t voice my concerns because he’d gone and done a super-vamp exit. It’s a bit hard to communicate successfully when your partner keeps pissing off speedily without notice. Fucking vampires! And fuck Melanie The Vampire. If she had laid a finger on Scott or hurt him in any way, I’d open up a giant can of whoop-ass on her. Somehow.

  I spent the next hour pondering how I could possibly do that. And hoping Scott was unharmed. And wondering if I could hurt Melanie if she’d bitten Scott. I had a stab at imagining Greg holding Melanie down while I plunged a stake into her heart. I doubted I could bring myself to actually do it. The worst I could imagine was putting Melanie over my knee (after muzzling her, of course) and spanking her stupid with the stake.

  I really, really hoped Scott was okay.

  I paced for most of the second hour in the cage. I also started hoping Greg was okay.

  Into hour three, I nibbled on an apple slice. Drank some water.

  I studied the blood on the bed and floor as if it would give me answers. I told myself it was blood from a pack that had been spilt during consumption. Everyone knew what a messy eater Melanie was.

  At about three and a half hours—after peeing in a bucket and doing the wipe-up with a bakery napkin (not my finest moment)—I indulged in a nice little panic session. I paced and breathed fast and heard my heart beating in my ears. How long should I stay here? Is three and a half hours a ‘very long time’? What should I do if I let myself out of the cage? Where the hell is everybody?

  It was almost the four-hour mark when Greg finally returned. Alone. Grim. Although, grim on its worst day had nothing on Greg.

  ‘They’ve gone. I can’t find them.’ His voice was gravelly. He looked utterly exhausted. His overall demeanour was one of resignation.

  As I unlocked the gate and let him in, I bombarded him with questions. ‘So, there’s no sign of them? How could they both just disappear? Where would they have gone? Do you think Scott’s alright? What do you think happened? Do you think Scott’s still…alive?’

  Greg sat on an upturned crate and scrubbed his hands through his hair. ‘I followed their scent trail until it abruptly cut off at the road.’ He gestured with his thumb in the general direction. ‘I believe she carried him until they got into a car and went fuck knows where.’

  ‘And what’s your guess about Scott’s condition?’

  He stared at me for a moment before answering. ‘She’s bitten him. That’s all I can determine for sure. I don’t know if he survived it.’ He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and hung his head.

  ‘But how can you be sure that she’s bitten him? It could just be the combination of a blood pack and a messy eater.’ Please let it be that.

  There was a jerk of his head in the direction of the bed. ‘That’s Scott’s blood.’

  Oh. Fuck.

  * * * * *

  I spent two godforsaken days in that damned cage.

  Greg locked me in while he searched relentlessly for Scott and Melanie. He followed the road in both directions. Checked at every hotel, rest stop, service station—anywhere they might have stopped. He backtracked through the bush. He sniffed out homes and cabins. Nothing.

  He came back at intervals to bring me food and take me up to the villa for a toilet break. Even so, there were times when I couldn’t hold on and had to do the bucket thing. I felt so useless. I wanted to be out there helping Greg find our friends, instead of being a burden. Like a pet Greg had to keep in a cage and feed and take out to do its business every now and again. It made me awfully angry and frustrated.

  Plus, I was going stir-crazy being locked up.

  I longed to kick things.

  By Sunday night, I couldn’t blame Melanie for wanting to bust out after all the time she’d spent in there. But I’d never forgive her if she’d hurt Scott. Or worse. I didn’t even want to think about the k-word and Scott in the same sentence.

  The image of Melanie staring at me through the bars kept haunting me, though. And I was so afraid for Scott. So afraid, I felt sick with it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Seven weeks later.

  Greg waved an envelope in front of my face. It was Friday night and I was sprawled on the sofa, hair wet from the shower, wearing trackie dacks (a.k.a. sweatpants in other parts of the world) and a threadbare, long-sleeved Buffy The Vampire Slayer T-shirt. Piles of journal articles that I was reading for work surrounded me.

  ‘What’s that?’ I sat up carefully without disturbing the stacks of literature I had grouped into different topics.

  ‘Look and see.’ He parked his butt on th
e edge of the coffee table, a detectable hint of mischievous in his attitude. He wasn’t fazed by my vampire-slayer tee. I’d been a Buffy fan long before Greg grew fangs.

  I opened the envelope to find a handwritten note from Greg. I started reading it to myself, then, ‘A holiday!’ I blurted. ‘You’re taking me on a holiday? To Italy?’

  I couldn’t believe it. I scooted forward and kissed him hard and fast before replying, ‘I’d love to go on a holiday with you.’ My enthusiasm faltered. ‘Um, but what about…’

  As my sentence trailed off, Greg cupped my cheek, his look turning to one of sadness. ‘They’ve gone, Ana. There’s nothing more we can do.’

  I heaved out a sigh.

  He was right.

  Greg had continued his search for five weeks after Melanie and Scott had gone missing. They seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth. It was a bit shit that we couldn’t involve anyone else in the search. Going to the authorities was out of the question. After what seemed like endless searching, Greg had finally given up. That was his official line.

  However, there were a couple of times during the previous two weeks where Greg had been gone far longer than the time it usually took when he went out hunting at night. I’d spent two sleepless nights watching the clock. I hadn’t mentioned anything about it.

  ‘I think it’ll be good for us to get away,’ he said. ‘We need this.’

  Living in a state of constant waiting and hoping was more draining than one would imagine. I needed to come to terms with the fact that our best friends had gone, and there was a high likelihood we would never see them again. I’d told it to myself. I needed to truly believe it.

  Getting away, a distraction, a holiday—once again Greg was right, we did need it.

  ‘Okay. Yes. Let’s do it.’

  ‘Great. Now all you have to do is pack your bag and be ready to leave on Monday morning in a week’s time.’

  He made it sound so simple. One week to pack for a surprise trip to Europe. Seriously, men had no clue about girl stuff. I’d have to check the weather report. I’d need to consult the itinerary to see what we’d be getting up to over there. Figure out if I had appropriate clothes. Perhaps do some emergency shopping. Which shoes would I take? Tie up loose ends at work. Oh, and then the decanting of all my toiletries into tiny bottles would take some time. Wait. ‘How long will we be there?’