“Yes. I was different from other humans even before I was infected, as were my brother and sister and all of our immortal brethren. We called ourselves gifted ones. We didn’t know it then and still don’t know why, but our DNA is more advanced—a great deal more advanced—than that of ordinary humans.” He shrugged. “It’s why I can teleport.”
“That isn’t a result of the virus?”
“No. I could teleport as a child. My brother and sister are both telepathic. Some can heal with their hands. Others can move things with their minds. The eldest of us can do far more.” He toyed with her hand. “As you said, vampires do exist. They are ordinary humans who have been infected with the same virus. They lack our special abilities and, without the protection our advanced DNA affords us, suffer progressive brain damage that causes a rapid descent into madness. They prey upon humans, inflicting upon their victims every monstrous impulse.”
“How have I never heard of this?” she asked in disbelief. “How have none of us ever heard of this?”
“Immortals hunt vampires and destroy them. It’s what we do, every night, to eradicate the threat and to prevent the public from learning of our existence and theirs.”
“But, why don’t the vampires’ victims report it?”
“They have no memory of the attacks.”
“You erase their memories?”
“No. Small glands above our fangs—and the fangs of vampires—release a chemical that behaves much like GHB under the pressure of a bite. If the victim lives, he or she will have no memory of what happened.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time believing that.”
He looked away. “Do you remember the first night we met, Jenna?”
“Yes. You came into the store and asked me where to find Krazy Glue.”
When next he met her gaze, his eyes had returned to their usual brown. “That wasn’t the first night we met.”
“What do you mean?”
“A few weeks before that, I was hunting in the area—”
“Hunting vampires.”
“Yes. And found . . . you. You must have just come off your shift. Four vampires had swept you behind the building and cornered you.”
Her blood went cold. “What?”
“You fought and pepper-sprayed one, but were bitten by another before I could wrest you from him.”
Horror filled her. Somehow this revelation was worse than anything that had come before it. She had been attacked? By vampires? And had no memory of it? “That isn’t possible.”
“There was a night, was there not, a few weeks before we met in which you couldn’t remember leaving work the night before, driving home, or putting yourself to bed?”
Oh, crap. There had been. She had awoken in her bed, still wearing her work clothes, and hadn’t been able to remember how she had gotten there. It had all been a blank. She had ultimately chalked it up to exhaustion.
“I was attacked by vampires?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” How could he keep something like that from her?
“Jenna—”
“I was attacked, Richart! You should have told me!”
“How?” he asked helplessly.
“Easy. You should have said, Jenna, I know this is going to sound strange, but you were attacked by vampires and I rescued—okay, I see your point. I would have thought you were off your rocker.” She rubbed a shaking hand over her face. “I can’t believe this. Did they . . . ? What did they do to me?”
“Other than the bite, you were unharmed. They must have just taken you when I came upon you.”
“Am I infected?” If all Richart had said was true, she would turn into a psychotic vampire if she transformed. She didn’t have the special DNA needed to make her immortal. She couldn’t read minds or teleport or see the future or whatever else they could do.
“No. A single brief bite won’t turn you. You would either have to be bitten fairly often over a stretch of time or have your blood drained until you were on the brink of death, then be infused wholly with infected blood.”
And the vampire had only bitten her the once. Briefly.
Richart covered the hand she had braced on the mattress with one of his. “Are you all right?”
She met his concerned gaze. “I’m freaked out over being attacked and having no memory of it. That’s really scary.”
“I know.”
“So you—what—killed them Blade-style?”
He smiled. “All but one, who got away, yes.”
“One got away?” Panic shrieked through her. “What if he came back? What if he bit me again and I just can’t remember it?”
“He didn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Have you experienced missing time again? Have there been any blank spots you couldn’t recall?”
She thought hard, trying to think of any other instances. “I don’t think so. But how can I be sure?”
“I’ve been guarding you,” he admitted, seeming almost ashamed.
“Guarding me?”
“I used speed and stealth to obtain your work schedule and have been at the store every night when you arrived and departed in case he returned and tried to harm you.”
She stared at him. “Every night?”
“Yes.”
“Is he likely to return?”
“No. He would have done so before now.”
“Yet you continued to watch over me.”
He shrugged. “At least you said watched. Sheldon kept accusing me of stalking you.”
She supposed some would see that as stalking. To Jenna, it seemed sweet. He had been protecting her all this time. “So . . . that’s everything then?”
He lowered his eyes.
“Damn it! What else could there be? You’re immortal. I was attacked by vampires. Vampires nearly killed you last night. You can teleport. What are you going to tell me now? That Sheldon is a werewolf?”
“Sheldon isn’t a werewolf, no.”
“Then, what?” She wondered how many times she would feel this gut-churning dread before the day ended. “Did you ask me out because you were trying to lure the vampire out of hiding?”
His head snapped up. “No! Of course not. I asked you out because the night I rescued you you kissed me.”
What? “I kissed you?”
“Yes. You were grateful that I saved you. You were drugged by the vampire’s bite, so your inhibitions were lowered and . . . you kissed me.” His eyes began to glow again.
Why did that make her heart pound? “Please tell me it wasn’t a sloppy, drunken kiss.”
“It was not a sloppy, drunken kiss. It was sweet and erotic all at once and I was captivated. I couldn’t stop thinking about you afterward. Days went by. Then weeks. I watched over you. Watched you come and go. Listened to you chat with your colleagues. And, when I couldn’t keep my distance any longer, I gave in to temptation and . . .”
“Asked me where to find the Krazy Glue?”
“Yes.”
“Your eyes are glowing again.”
“I can’t help it. Even with my ears filled with cotton and a sledgehammer assaulting my head, I want you.”
And she wanted him. Despite everything. Or because of everything. She would decide which later.
Richart watched Jenna, waiting for condemnation, acceptance, a Can we talk about this later? I need time to think. Anything that would give him a clue to her thoughts.
She rose onto her knees and scooted closer. Slinging a leg across his own, she straddled his lap.
Lust slammed through him as she settled upon the erection barely concealed by his boxers. Clarity came with it, finally erasing the fuzz the drug had induced.
Clamping his hands on her tempting ass, deliciously clad in tight yoga pants, he leaned forward and ravaged her lips with his own. She responded with all of the heat and urgency that seized him, parting her lips and inviting him within. Richart thrust his tongue forward, teasing and tasting hers as his heart slammed against his ribs.
“I hated keeping secrets from you,” he whispered.
“I understand why you did.”
He grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and drew it over her head.
Her hair crackled with static electricity and clung to him as he wrapped his arms around her mostly bare form. So soft and warm and his.
He reached behind her and unfastened her bra. “Have I mentioned I haven’t done this in a while?”
“Me either. It’s been years for me.”
“For me it’s been decades.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “Decades? But . . . you’re so gorgeous.”
He laughed. “As are you.” Drawing the lacy material down, he revealed pale breasts with hard pink tips. “Human males are idiots.”
Her laugh turned into a gasp as he leaned forward and drew a taut bud into his mouth, sucking, nipping, and stroking it with his tongue.
Jenna tunneled her fingers through his hair as fire invaded her. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” she forced herself to ask between gasps. The man had almost died, after all.
