The Undead in My Bed (Dark Ones #10.5)

chapter Six

 

My eyes flew open, and I stared across the small room, trying to figure out what had awakened me.

 

Michael was still curled up against my side, his breathing soft and even. I sat up, ears straining. Someone was in the front of the shop. I’d heard the soft murmur of the butcher’s cheerful voice earlier as he’d helped customers, but it was six o’clock now, and the shop was closed.

 

The footsteps got closer. My ears pricked again. Maybe they were restocking the deli counter from the stuff in the freezer? As I listened to the footsteps, I noticed a pattern. Two steps and then a soft rap-rap. It happened again, and then again. My skin prickled with awareness.

 

Two steps, rap-rap. Two steps, rap-rap.

 

I slid from the bed and placed my ear against the door. Two steps, rap-rap.

 

Someone was knocking on the walls. I tensed, my predator instinct fully alert. Whoever was on the other side was testing the wall every few feet.

 

A pause, then another rap-rap. Then I heard the door to the antechamber slide open.

 

A growl formed low in my throat, and I swallowed it, but I allowed the claws forming at my fingertips to emerge.

 

The footsteps entered the small antechamber adjoining our safe room and paused again. I heard beeps as someone punched at the keypad. A pause, then a few more beeps. Then swearing and the punching of different buttons, phone buttons.

 

With my excellent hearing, I could hear the conversation through the phone.

 

“Angelo Gaston’s office,” said a cheerful voice.

 

“I found the place,” the intruder said, and I caught a whiff of a dog scent. My fists clenched. The werewolf asshole had tracked us down.

 

“Excellent,” the woman said. “Did you get him?”

 

“He’s in a panic room. I need the pass code.”

 

“I don’t have it.”

 

I nearly sighed with relief.

 

“Then get it for me,” the werewolf said, surly.

 

“Mr. Gaston won’t be awake for at least another hour or two,” she said sweetly. “Shall I leave him a message?”

 

He swore softly under his breath. “No, no message. I’ll call Taylor when his naptime is over.”

 

“Very well, Mr. Anderson,” she said, and the call terminated.

 

So the wolf was Anderson, the vampire hunting Michael was Taylor, and they were going to descend on us like vultures as soon as it was time for the vampires to wake up.

 

We had to get out of there. As the man paced on the other side of the door, I crept back to Michael’s side and tugged his clothes out of the pile on the floor. I’d dress him, and as soon as he was awake, we’d get out of there. Maybe head to another one of his safe houses or go to my house, at least for some clothes. We just had to go somewhere else—I didn’t care where.

 

I dressed him as he slept, edging first the underwear and then the pants up his legs. The button-up shirt was a bit more work, but I managed it, keeping my movements as quiet as I could. I kept glancing at the clock as I worked, waiting for the time to click over. What time did Michael wake up? Six? Six-thirty? Seven?

 

Outside the room, the man leaned against the door, whistling. He thought he was going to wait for the goddamn pass code and flush us out, but I wouldn’t give him that chance.

 

I straddled Michael’s chest and put my hand over his mouth, anticipating his awakening. I must have sat there for ten minutes, staring intently down at him, waiting for the flutter of his eyelids.

 

A few minutes later, his eyes flicked open and dilated, staring up at me. I leaned over him and pressed a finger to my lips, hoping he’d be awake enough to understand.

 

He paused for a moment, then nodded. I felt his teeth elongate against my hand at the same time that I felt his erection swell against my hips.

 

I leaned down to his ear, whispering low enough that the werewolf wouldn’t be able to detect my voice. “There’s a werewolf on the other side of the door. If he hears us, we’ll lose the element of surprise.”

 

I removed my hand, and he reached up to grasp the back of my neck, pulling my ear down to his mouth. “That’s the only way out of here.”

 

I nodded. I knew that. I leaned in again, unable to resist brushing my tongue against the shell of his ear. “I’ll take care of him.”

 

He grabbed my arm as I tried to slide off him, jerking his head in a quick, angry shake. He didn’t like the idea of me taking out the werewolf? But I was the predator. I was the strong shifter. I flexed my hand, showing him the claws ready to pop out from my fingertips if I let the shift take over.

 

He shook his head violently again. “Ruby, no,” he mouthed.

 

I turned away, heading for the door on tiptoe. I kept the finger to my lips, ensuring that Michael would remain silent, even if he didn’t like my idea. Behind me, I heard his hand swish through the air, no doubt trying to get my attention and tell me what a bad idea this was.

 

But all of my attention was focused on the door. I could occasionally hear the wolf shifting his weight and the quiet clicking of keys on his phone. Texting? Web surfing? Getting the pass code even now?

 

My hand on the handle, I moved it down by silent millimeters until it had turned completely. Then I pushed the door open as hard as I could, using all of my weight to shove it backward with force.

 

The man leaning against it went sprawling on the other side. I heard the smack of his skull and his groan of pain as he was thrown against the opposite wall.

 

I leaped onto him. He’d fallen on his stomach, one hand cradling his head. I moved over his back, grabbed his hair, and slammed his head back onto the floor.

 

His head made a sick thud, and he went still.

 

“Damn,” said Michael behind me. “When you said you were a predator, you weren’t kidding.”

 

His compliment pleased me, and I felt the absurd urge to purr. Instead, I brushed a finger under the nostrils of the wolf. Still breathing, just unconscious. “Save your flattery for later. Let’s tie him up.”

 

We used the bedsheets to hog-tie the werewolf on the bed, then locked him inside. Now no one would be able to get to him unless they had the pass code. Michael looked reluctant to abandon him, but I explained that as soon as he awoke, he’d start chewing through the bonds anyhow. Our goal was to get Michael to safety.

 

I changed to my jaguar form and led the way. Michael’s other place and my house would probably be too vulnerable, so we’d head to my sister’s apartment. It was on this side of town, and I hoped she wouldn’t be too peeved when I showed up with a vampire and a bounty hunter on our tails.

 

Either way, she’d at least have clothing for me. I was getting rather tired of being naked.

 

I’d wanted to stick to the alleys and shadows, but Michael shook his head. “It’ll take too long. Between that and the fact that they have a tracker, they could find our trail.”

 

He had a point.

 

He put the pink bow collar on me, and while I hid in the nearby alley, he went into a nearby business to call a cab. When the cab driver saw us, I thought he was going to drive away, but Michael offered enough cash that the man let me into the backseat, although he kept the glass divider up and shot me nervous looks the entire time.

 

I did my best to appear as meek and house-cat-like as possible. Michael stroked and petted my head as we drove, his calm masking the nervousness we both felt.

 

As the car pulled up to a stop sign, Michael tensed, looking out the window. “Wait,” he said to the cab driver. “Can we stop here?”

 

I lifted my head from his lap, confused.

 

The cab driver looked at the stop, then back at me hesitantly. “I’m not sure—”

 

Michael pulled out his wallet and extracted several bills, waving them at the cab driver.

 

“You got it,” the driver said, pulling into a nearby parking lot. “I’ll wait here.”

 

The cab was put into park, and Michael opened his door and jumped out. He gave a tug to my leash, indicating that I should follow. “Come, Ruby. I’ve got something to show you.”

 

As I slunk out of the cab, I heard the cab driver mutter the word “crazy” under his breath. I could see how Michael wasn’t looking like the sanest person right about now. We’d stopped on a side street, with a chain-link fence dividing us from a nearby park. It looked familiar but not so much that I understood why we were there.

 

Michael leaped over the low chain-link fence and grinned at me from the other side. “Follow me.”

 

As if I could protest while in jaguar form. I also couldn’t stay out there, lest the rednecks bring out their guns. So I leaped over the fence, trying to figure out his plan.

 

He shoved his hands into his pockets, allowing me free rein, and began to stroll forward, whistling. Intrigued, I followed him, noting our surroundings. We were on a playground. I passed a soccer goal, the net gone. I could smell the chalk lining the field and hear the creak of a distant merry-go-round. Off to one side, a pair of swings swayed in the evening breeze, and Michael headed toward those. He sat on one of the swings and reached a hand out to me.

 

I moved forward, pushing my muzzle against his hand.

 

His fingers scratched just under my whiskers in a spot that was pure heaven. I began to purr, leaning heavily against him. I didn’t know why we were there, but for a brief moment, I didn’t care.

 

“This is where I first saw you,” he mused in a low voice.

 

I looked up sharply. Here? I waited for an answer, and when he didn’t go on, I pushed at his hand with my face. He scratched me again, so I bit him, lightly, just enough to get his attention.

 

Instead of being frightened, Michael chuckled. I guess teeth didn’t scare a vampire. “Sorry. Yes, I saw you here first. I was here to pick up one of my cousins from school, and I think you were here to pick up Jayde.”

 

I looked around. Sure enough, this was a school that Jayde had worked at a few years ago as a third-grade teacher. I’d forgotten all about it until he mentioned it. Had I met Michael here? I didn’t remember.

 

“You were in the parking lot, and I noticed you leaning against your car door. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen,” he said in an almost dreamy voice. “You had long, curly black hair and a small, curvy body. You looked so soft and sweet, but I couldn’t take my eyes off you because you were so sure of yourself. Every bit of you seemed to sing with vitality and strength. I remembered thinking that I’d love to date a girl like that.” He glanced over at me, skimming his fingers over the short hair on my muzzle. “You were reading a magazine. I kept trying to get your attention, but you never looked up. That was a week before classes. When I went into American History and you were sitting there with an empty chair next to you, I thought it was fate.”

 

I’d had no idea. Such a small, chance meeting simply had not stuck in my memory, and Michael had never mentioned it to me, even back when we were dating. As far as I had remembered, my relationship with Michael had begun the first day of classes, when a handsome tall boy with wild hair had slid into the chair next to me in History and leaned over to borrow a pencil. His scent had been clean, just a hint of soap and cinnamon, as if he’d been chewing gum. I remembered being charmed by that and by the smile he cast in my direction. The first time he’d raked his hand through his hair and it stuck up in spikes, I was lost.

 

Michael scratched my whiskers again. “I suppose I’m just being sentimental,” he said with a half smile at me. He stood up and brushed off his wrinkled pants. “Either way, I wanted to show this to you because…” He struggled for the right thing to say. “Well, I suppose because I’m glad you’re back in my life, Ruby. It feels richer with you in it.”

 

I couldn’t smile, so I leaned in and gave his hand a gentle lick, as if to say, I’m glad you’re back, too.

 

“Friends forever,” he said quietly.

 

I resisted the urge to bite his damn hand.