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Death Times Two(23)

By:Boone Brux

“Due to the,” I clear my throat, “unique nature of our primary guests, the hotel’s open season is winter.”
Lisa turns to stare at me. “Holy cow. An Alaskan resort this fancy and remote that is open in the winter and it doesn’t cater to a dog sled race? Unreal.” She shakes her head and checks out the rest of the main room. The hand-cut wood beams soar overhead and the decor looks straight out of an elite Swiss ski lodge. Of course, all the windows are shuttered at the moment or she’d be able to see the sloping hillside, too. “I was wondering. What does a night at the inn cost?”
“Umm…” I stammer and look away, uncomfortable with telling her exactly what this place costs. Until I received my bonus after Emiko’s hunt last winter I never would have been able to afford it. “The cheapest rate is in the main building—and it’s a lot.”
“Yeah?” She quirks an eyebrow. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
I glance at her quickly and drop my gaze, lowering my voice when I respond. “Five thousand a night.”
Lisa’s face reddens and she coughs. Instinctively I reach out to touch her, but hold back at the last second. If my hand makes contact with her warm back, I’ll want to pull her into my arms again. Damn, she felt so good back there in the tunnels. Soft in all the right places, with heat radiating off her. What I wouldn’t give for one night with her.
Her coughing subsides, and she glares at me. “Don’t try and help me or anything. I’m good.”
Belatedly, I realize I could have done something that didn’t require me to touch her. “Can I get you some water?” I move toward the bar, eager to make amends for my slip.
She waves me off, seemingly ready to let go of my rudeness. “Too little, too late.” She smiles to lessen the sting. “That’s a freakin’ outrageous price, even by Alaskan high standards.” She wanders deeper into the room, her steps muffled on the thick Persian rug. “Just like those tunnels, this whole place would have cost a lot to build.”
Recalling that very same thought occurred to me when I first met Vivian, I shrug. I finger the last gold coin in my pocket, all too aware we’re going to have to call my boss to see if she has more coins. I should have thought of that last night. Dammit!
Well, if you hadn’t spent so much time trying to convince yourself not to hit on Lisa…
I don’t want her to hate me like the others. And I’m not sure I could resist…
Biting her or fucking her?
Both.
What a fine mess I’m in.
“What I wouldn’t give…” She trails off and catches herself. “Wait, now that I know about vampires and werewolves… there’s a lot I wouldn’t give.”
Her words mirror my earlier thoughts about wanting to spend the night with her. One night with a woman where I wouldn’t cause her pain. That’s all I want. Geez. If Pat and Eric heard me now they’d be ripping me apart with ribbing and insults.
“Trust me, I understand.”
Her breath catches in her throat. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re a nice vampire. I don’t know if they’re all like you. I’d like to hope they are, but that’s probably me being naive. It’s just…” She shrugs. “I’ve got my kids to think about. I can’t go wishing on a star for an expensive vacation. There’s so much more I’d do with the money.” Warmth colors her checks. “Hockey equipment costs a lot…”
She trails off and there’s anxiety on her face, like she’s afraid she’s hurt my feelings somehow.
Impulsively I blurt, “You’ve got everything in life I wish for. I envy you.”
Her face softens, and she smiles. “You envy me? I never would have imagined that.”
I ache to step forward, to hug her and point out everything she should be grateful for in life. But I hold back. If anything, my limited experience has taught me you can’t make someone value what they have, they must value it on their own or they will never appreciate it.
I shove down the remorse and watch Lisa’s rounded bottom sway across the room, toward the darkened windows, as she explores. My palms itch to cup her butt and haul her close.
Damn, I’m a sad case. I seriously need to get laid.
“So, you said Sanji was killed outside?”
“Yes.”
“Was it a violent death?”
“Does that matter?”
Puzzlement crosses her face. “I’m not sure. My partner normally handles the violent crimes, so I’m not really sure why I was ‘gifted’ this assignment.”