Vampire Games (Entangled Ever After) by Allee Tiffany

Author:Allee, Tiffany [Allee, Tiffany]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: vampires, Entangled Publishing, Ever After, short story, romance series, paranormal, romance, Tiffany Allee
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2013-10-27T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

If the drive to Wisconsin had been awkward, the drive back to Chicago was positively painful. Claude was obviously lost in thought, and far more distant and worried than I’d ever seen him. I swung back and forth between wanting to rage at him for treating the selkie like that, and telling him about my vision of Luc from when I was a child, just so he would let this go. How could I get him to give up his quest to prove the innocence of a man who was anything but?

And a third urge tugged at me. An urge that was far more dangerous than the others. I wanted to comfort him.

Because this case seemed to have shaken the confident vampire to his core. And something in me didn’t like that one bit. But I couldn’t comfort him, and I dared not show what I knew of Luc—that would risk him cutting me out of the case. Or worse, prompt a confrontation with the Magister before he was ready. Before he had backup in place. Before he had a plan.

Or worse, what if he stood by his friend regardless of what he’d done?

So I watched the darkening landscape fade from buildings, to naked trees and open spaces, and back to buildings even bigger than the ones we’d left behind, undecided and feeling like a wishy-washy loser.

We pulled into Claude’s underground parking lot, and I shook my head to clear it. I’d dozed, nearly falling asleep.

“You still sleep during long drives,” Claude murmured as he parked in the low-lit garage.

“You still talk about stuff that’s none of your business.” It wasn’t much of a comeback, and he laughed. I frowned and exited the car. I’d need a little more time away from my almost-nap before I could think of a witty retort.

Claude didn’t mention dinner, and neither did I. I could have rustled up something from his fridge, which appeared to be well-stocked. Or I could have demanded he order me something. Even after the day we’d had, he would have done so. But I wasn’t interested in food.

I pulled a bottle of vodka out of his freezer and mixed it with Coke from the fridge. Claude walked in after taking a shower, his hair still damp, and watched me drink half the first cup in one long swallow.

“You crossed a line back there,” I said.

“I know.”

I waited a beat, but he didn’t offer up anything else. No explanation. No promise that it would never happen again.

“That’s it? That’s all I get? You know? Well, fuck, Claude. Of course you know. You’re not a damn idiot.” I waved my glass at him. “At least I didn’t think you were.” Then I downed the other half.

Claude walked around the counter slowly. He took the glass from my hand and went about making me another drink.

“Have you ever been so obsessed with something that you couldn’t see straight?” he asked. “That you couldn’t see your future without it?”

“No,” I lied. Why else was I here, working with Claude, if I wasn’t a little bit obsessed myself.

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