Night Play(51)

Bride frowned as she walked over to the stereo, which was blasting the old Troggs song "Wild Thing."

"How strange," she said, turning it off. "I didn't leave the stereo on."

Vane tightened his grip on Fury's neck.

"That hurts, Vane. Let go."

He did so reluctantly. "What else did you do? "

"Nothing, really. I just watched some TV, went through her CDs… she has some really good shit… and made some coffee."

"Fury, you weren't supposed to move in!"

"You said watch her, that implies moving in."

He reached for Fury, who darted over to Bride.

"Maybe you have a ghost," Vane said. "It is New Orleans, after all."

"You're not funny," she said.

She took the wine from him and headed to the small kitchenette where she set it by her two-cup coffeepot. She pulled the carafe out and looked at it. "What on earth is going on here?"

"What?"

She met Vane's gaze. "Did you make coffee this morning?"

"Oops," Fury said. "I kind of poofed that in. I probably should have poofed it out once I was finished."

"You think?"

"Be nice to me, man. I don't have to stay here."

"And I don't really have to let you live, either."

"Are you okay?" Bride asked as she replaced the carafe.

Vane smiled and forced his stem expression to relax. "I'm fine."

"This coffee is fresh." She looked down at Fury, then shook her head. "No way. That's just stupid."

"What?"

"Nothing. I won't even say it for fear of being put away for the rest of my life."

She put the wine in the freezer to stay cold while she opened the cabinets and pulled out a saucepan and boiler.

Without thinking, Vane went to the tiny pantry to get the spaghetti sauce. For some reason, she loved putting it on everything.

"How did you know to go there?" she asked.

Vane cringed. Damn, he shouldn't have known where she kept it. "It seemed the most likely place."

She appeared to accept that.

Fury jumped up and pushed him into Bride. Vane sucked his breath in sharply as their bodies collided and he felt her lush curves against him.

She looked up, her lips parted from her gasp of surprise.

"Sorry," he said, his heart pounding. "The dog hit me."

"I'm not a dog."

"You're going to be dog food if you don't stop."

"Oh c'mon, you idiot. She's your mate. Move on her."

"I can't force her. Believe me, it's something I will not do."

To his surprise, Fury cocked his head and stared up at him. "You know, I think I just learned to respect you for that. You're a good wolf, Vane. Now hand me your shirt and let me outside."

"Do what?" Vane was so stunned that he spoke out loud.

"What?" Bride asked.

"Nothing," he said, wondering at what point tonight she was going to decide he was completely mental.

"Trust me," Fury said. "I'll use your scent to lead the others far away from here. Hell, by the time I get through with Stefan, he'll be chasing his tail in circles."

Vane was impressed. It was a good thought. "Can I trust you not to lead him here?"

"Yeah, you can."

What an uncharacteristic response for Fury. Vane looked at him as he debated whether or not he could trust him.

In the end, he had no choice.

Fury went to scratch at the door.

"I'll let him out," Vane said, heading to the wolf.

"Thanks," Bride said as she pulled out the leftover angel hair pasta.

Vane followed the wolf into the back courtyard. He pulled off his shirt, then conjured up a fresh one while Fury flashed into human form to take it.

"Put some clothes on, Fury. I'm going blind here."

"Shut up," Fury snapped. "I'm not as talented as you are with my powers and I'm not staying human long enough to care. I just wanted to tell you to be careful. She seems like a nice enough woman, for a human. Be a damned shame to see something happen to her."

"I know."

A car pulled up to the gate.

Fury stepped into the shadows and vanished. Vane didn't move as he watched the car pull in. It was the stripper who lived in one of the upstairs apartments.

Relieved it was a friendly car, he went back inside to find Bride spooning the sauce into her pan.

He had to find some way to get her to agree to leave with him until they could safely part company.

Vane watched her and felt something very peculiar. In his world no one cooked for him. He either ate it raw or bought it in human form, then cooked it himself.

No one had ever made food for him before except when he paid them to do it. This was almost homey. Not that he understood what homey was.