Destined for an Early Grave(35)

“Ian, enough,” Spade snapped, stepping between me and Rodney when both of us leapt to our feet for another try. “Cat, Rodney—Ian’s finished now. Isn’t he?”

Spade glared at Ian, who just lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“For now.”

I was trapped indoors with my mother, her pissed-off boyfriend, Bones’s ex-lover, his horny sire, and his secretive best friend. Whatever appetite I’d had when I came downstairs was gone. The only thing I wanted to do was get away from all of them, but that meant hiding in my room, and I’d had enough of that, too.

Maybe there was one thing that could help. I went to the cabinets and began to rifle through them with single-minded determination.

“What are you looking for, Catherine?” my mother asked.

“Liquor.”



I was into my third bottle of Jack Daniel’s when Bones arrived. It was sunset, the dying rays turning his hair reddish as he walked through the door. Even a glimpse of his hard, rippled frame caused my hand to tighten on the whiskey. God, he looked good, but I needed to slam the lid on my dirty mind and seek other things to think about. Farm equipment. Agriculture. The state of the economy.

“Blimey, Kitten, is this what you’ve been doing all day? Drinking?”

The judgmental tone Bones used doused my momentary ardor. Nope, no need to ponder the national deficit next!

“Your color’s good, so who are you to talk,” I said. “Is that what took you so long? Did she taste extra yummy?”

I was jealous, as irrational as that might be. Bones picked women to feed from for two reasons—with his looks, they were pathetically easy to get alone, and he liked their flavor more. I hadn’t believed Bones could really taste the difference between male and female blood until he proved it to me. The man could flawlessly genderize a whole blood bank. Once he’d commented that he thought it might be an acquired liking of estrogen.

“She didn’t taste like a gallon of whiskey, that’s for certain,” he shot back, coming over and arching a brow at my near-empty bottle. “Is that all you’ve had today?”

“Certainly is, Crispin,” Ian sang out. “She’s been drinking with the pluck of an Irishman!”

I had nothing heavy nearby to throw at Ian aside from the whiskey, and I wasn’t letting go of that. “Bite me, Ian!”

Bones snatched at my bottle, but I’d been anticipating that. I held on, and it was tug-of-war.

“Put it down,” he barked, prying my hand from my prize. “You need solid food, Kitten, and about a keg of water. Crikey, where’s your mum? Can’t the woman be counted on to at least see that you eat?”

If he had been trying to piss me off, he couldn’t have picked a better way. “Oh sure. Have someone feed me, water me, and keep me on a leash. You know what you should have married, Bones? A dog, then you wouldn’t have all those pesky problems about it occasionally acting on its own.”

“This is just what I bloody need,” he growled, running a hand through his hair. “Coming home to a drunken harpy, waiting to knock my head off.”

This isn’t what he needed? I was the one who’d been punched out, drugged, reduced to hand-feedings—all because of a crazy vampire who’d kidnapped me when I was sixteen and didn’t want to take no for an answer now. “Being a ‘drunken harpy’ has been the highlight of my week, so excuse me if I’m not waiting by the door for you with a big red X on my neck to mark the spot where you can get your dessert.”

Part of me was horrified at what I’d just said. After all, I wasn’t mad at Bones, just the circumstances. But somehow, my mental filter between what I didn’t mean and what I’d said, was broken. I couldn’t even blame it on the liquor, either. Being half-vampire meant I couldn’t get drunk on normal booze.

“Right now I’d say it’s what you need,” Bones shot back. “Is that it? Shall I take you to bed and bite some of the waspishness out of you? Even though I’d rather flog some sense into you instead, as a vampire, I’m up for the task whether I’d want to or not.”

My mouth swung open, and my hand actually tingled with the urge to slap him.

And at the same time, I wanted to cry. This was all so wrong. I was falling to pieces and doing it alone, despite the numerous people around me.

Something of this either showed on my face, or he heard it in the whirling chaos of my mind. Bones’s features lost their icy callousness, and he sighed.

“Kitten…”

“Don’t.” My breath caught, choking back the sob. I couldn’t seem to control how I felt or what came out of my mouth, so it was better if I was alone. Fast, before I said something else I didn’t mean.