Fangs for Nothing(75)

“The shower,” Josie Lynn mouthed, pointing to the closed shower curtain.

He made an oh right sort of expression and took a quiet step toward the curtain, covered with different depictions of Elvis Presley. Elvis through the decades, apropos for Chers through the decades to hide behind, Josie Lynn thought.

Again, she noticed he didn’t hesitate to rip back the curtain, as if he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt there was no one hiding in the tub. And he was right. Aside from several bottles of shampoo and conditioner, a bar of soap, and a razor, the shower was empty.

She stepped back from the bathroom door to let him out. She didn’t even look over her shoulder. He seemed so certain the place was empty that she was starting to think she might be overreacting, too.

But as if to appease her, he moved past her to the next door. He turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, but before he could even reach for the light switch, something swooped out of the room.

The only impression Josie Lynn got was the shadowy image of something flying close to her head and the whoosh of wings.

“What the hell?” Drake said, voicing her very own thought.

But she didn’t stop to answer. Instead she grabbed his arm and tugged him into the dark room, slamming the door behind them. She fell back against the door and pulled him back against her, using both of their bodies to block the door.

They stood still, only their breathing audible in the blackness of the room.

“What—what was that?” she finally whispered after a few moments.

Drake didn’t answer right away, then he muttered as if with dawning realization. “Saxon.”

“Saxon?” What on earth was he talking about? That was a bird or some other flying creature. She shivered. God, she hated things that flew.

“I—I mean that was probably Saxon’s pet,” Drake said, although even without being able to see his expression, she didn’t quite believe his explanation.

“Saxon’s pet? What is it? And why would it be at your apartment?”

“He must have left it here because of the wedding.”

Okay, not sure why he’d do that, but whatever.

“What the heck is it?”

“A—a bat.”

* * *

WHY THE HELL had he told her that? Drake mentally kicked himself. Who had a pet bat?

“Who has a pet bat?” she asked, obviously coming to the very same conclusion.

“The same guy who has a pet alligator,” Drake said, rather proud of that quick connection.

“Oh.”

She seemed to buy it, even though it wasn’t the truth. He suspected whatever had flown past them was actually Saxon. This happened the last time they’d all blacked out due to being drugged.

The last time they’d all blacked out due to being drugged. Wow, who really got to say that twice in a lifetime? Even as long as all of his friends had all lived, it still seemed like a weird thing to say. But last time, Stella had been the one who got stuck in bat form. This time he was willing to bet it was Saxon. That would explain why he’d gone missing on his wedding night.

Josie Lynn shivered, her whole body vibrating against his. The subtle movement was enough to make him groan.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, moving his face closer to hers. He could feel the warmth of her breath and the sweet scent of the wine she’d drank on her lips.

“I’m—I’m fine.” But she shuddered again.

He could now smell her arousal and he couldn’t stop himself. His hands found her hips and pulled her even closer. She gasped, and for just the briefest moment, he thought she was going to surrender and allow her body to stay pressed tightly to his. That she might even kiss him. Or let him kiss her.

But instead, she pushed at his chest with a strength that surprised him, although he wasn’t sure why. She was a tough cookie. He knew that.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to ignore his disappointment, because he knew she wasn’t telling the truth about being okay. He could smell fear on her, too, though that was harder to focus on than her desire.

He moved away from her, even though he really didn’t want to, and flipped on the light. They both blinked as their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

She remained against the door, her back tight against it and her arms crossed around her, like she was cold. Or truly freaked-out.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated.

She still didn’t answer for a moment, though he could also see that she was notably pale. She was really shaken, although in what he’d already learned was Josie Lynn fashion, she was trying to hide it.

“I hate things with wings, okay? Birds, bats, big flying bugs.” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, but her expression clearly stated she hated admitting that fear.