I gasped, and Dove followed my line of sight, and gasped, too.
“Is that real?” asked Dove in a reverent voice. “Because that’s the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.”
“He can hear you,” I whispered harshly. Then in a lower voice, I added, “Don’t you even think about taking dibs, you bitch.”
“Riiiiight,” she whispered back. “You want me to call ahead to the hospital, tell them to expect you and your injured vagina?”
“Then you are okay,” he said dryly. He grabbed the blanket from my cot and wrapped it around his waist. “My name is Drake.”
“Moira Jameson,” I said. “This is Dove.”
“Just Dove,” she said severely, as she always did to forestall any questions about a last name. Like last names were even relevant. Werewolf man didn’t seem to have one—or he hadn’t offered one.
He inclined his head, his green eyes flashing with humor. “You handle yourselves very well. Not many humans are so . . . accepting of parakind.”
“Parakind?” I asked.
“A general term. But in this case, I speak of the droch fola,” he said, pointing at the pile of ash that was currently messing up my new duster. “And me, of course. The werewolf.”
“I didn’t read about werewolves,” said Dove. “Damn.”
Drake cocked an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps having a conversation with a werewolf is better than reading about him, hmm?”
“Depends on how the conversation ends,” she said.
“Wow. Awesome. Just another day in the desert,” I said. I was starting to get the shakes. See, I was great at crisis-in-the-moment. But the aftershocks got me every time.
“Ah.” He tilted his head and offered a wicked grin. “It’s really too bad.”
“What is?” I asked.
“You will not remember anything that happened tonight.” He gave me a long look, one that gleamed with regret. “And you will not remember me.”
Chapter 5
“Vampires,” I said flatly. Dove and I sat on my cot looking up at six people who should not have existed.
“It’s weird, right?” said the brunette, who’d been introduced as Jessica. Frankly, Jessica was not a good vampire name. It made the whole undead thing highly suspect. The other vampires were Patrick, Lorcan, Eva, and then, of course, the two werewolves, Drake and Darrius, were also there.
My gaze strayed (ha, stray) to Drake. Unfortunately, he had left our tent and returned fully dressed, in jeans, T-shirt, and snakeskin boots. His long hair was tied back into a ponytail. His hair was longer than mine. I couldn’t help myself. I felt drawn to him, magnetized almost. Was that a werewolf thing? Or was it because I had no dating life and it was finally catching up with me? Or had I finally flipped my lid and descended into a paranormal psychotic episode?
“Those are vampires,” said Dove, waving her hand toward the four undead ones. Then she pointed at Drake and Darrius. “And those are werewolves,” she added helpfully. My impulse to pinch her was delayed by the dazed look on her face. She was trying to process the situation, same as I was, and I wasn’t sure who was doing the better job. Neither of us, it seemed.
Dove leaned near my ear and said, “You’re not crazy. This is really happening.” She bumped my shoulder. “You might want look less freaked out.”
“Hey, you’re just meeting us. The first time I met a vampire was after I woke up dead,” said Jessica. “Which isn’t as easy as you might think.”
“I wouldn’t think it was easy at all,” said Dove.
“Well, it’s not completely horrible,” said Jessica. “Just unnerving. Especially when the vampire’s naked and you’re facefirst between his thighs.” She flashed a grin at Patrick. “Well, anyway. You’re not dead. Bonus, right?”
Wait. What? Talking to a vampire was making me feel twitchy, so I assessed the people standing around the cot. Patrick and Lorcan were twins. So were Drake and Darrius. It was like having double paranormal vision. Okay. Yeah. I was crazy. Certified and everything. And even I didn’t believe this shit.
“The other intruders retreated after Drake killed the droch fola,” said Darrius.
Yeah, I remembered the part where the vampire was beheaded and then turned to ash.
“What’s the difference between that asshole and you guys?” Dove asked the vampires. “Other than the part where you haven’t tried to kill us?”
Yet. They hadn’t tried to kill us yet.
“Droch fola are vampires who no longer have their humanity,” said Patrick in his Irish brogue. “Soulless, if you will.”