Once Bitten, Twice Shy (Just a Little Taste Book 2) Read online

  Forcing himself to remain calm, Jeremy lay still and listened. The sound of slow, soft steps filled the air and he closed his eyes, his body taut and ready for action. The sound stopped and he lifted his head up from the towel to see what was going on. A different young girl came forward out of the shadows, holding a glass. “No. I'm not thirsty,” he told her.

  The girl smiled charmingly and held the straw to his lips anyway. He turned his head away, refusing the drink that his throat begged for. “I don't want to drink. I want to go to the bathroom and stretch my legs. Please. I need to go, badly.” The girl shook her head nervously and she took a step back. “Please. I won't hurt you. If you let me get up, it’ll be our secret, I promise. I won't let him hurt you either.” Jeremy pleaded with the girl, hoping to get in her good graces and make her feel safe. The girl's dusty blue eyes flickered as she looked at his face for a fraction of a second, then they widened in fear. He wondered if she thought of Claudio and what he was sure to do to her if she let him free. With a panicked expression, she shook her head. “Please,” he begged again. “I'll keep you safe.” She took a tiny step forward, seeming to think about releasing him. “Please. I’ll help you and protect you. Please help me get up and go to the bathroom.”

  She placed a tiny, pale hand on one of the restraints. With a furrow on her brow, she worked to loosen it, glancing over her shoulder in panic as she did so. Jeremy smiled to reassure her. As she worked on the heavy buckle, he felt the leather strap give just a little on his wrist. Only a fraction of an inch more and he could get out of this one restraint, and that would be all he needed to be free. He smiled at her to encourage her, really turning on the charm and she flushed, the pink color looking odd against her gray skin. “You've almost got it. Please hurry. I need to go to the bathroom, desperately.” She nodded and managed to loosen the strap a little more. It was just enough for him to jerk his hand out of the restraint and pull her head down quickly so she banged her forehead on the slab of rock he lay on. She groaned as she slipped to the floor and he shifted to glance over the edge of the slab, seeing a nasty gash across her forehead and blood seeping from the wound already. Rolling as much as he could, he undid the other restraint on his left arm and then sat up to undo his legs. His legs refused to move and he rubbed them until feeling returned and he could wiggle his toes. He moved to sit up on the side of the bed and frowned as he couldn't move further. What the hell? A thin tube ran from his penis and across the slab to the other side of the bed. Did that girl really just fall for me saying I needed to go to the bathroom? Well, maybe she thought I didn't need to pee. Weighing his options, he firmly grasped the tube and yanked. The pain was terrible and he shifted his face into his elbow and stifled a scream there as he finished removing the device.

  After he caught his breath he glanced around, hoping to find something to wear, but the only things in the room were the towels he had laid upon. With a sigh, he pulled one around his waist, securing it the best he could. As he shifted his ribs ached, and he probed them gently, hissing as he touched one rib that was the source of his pain. Maybe I cracked it when I crashed. He glanced down at the rest of his body and found plenty of yellowing bruises, but nothing else broken. His chest had a circular bruise, one that resembled his steering wheel and it was still very tender to the touch.

  He stepped around the girl and paused to touch her face and whisper, “I'm so sorry. I just sealed your death sentence.” Moving quietly, he searched for some way out of the darkened room and stifled a groan as his toes connected with the cold, hard edge of a step. “Shit,” he whispered, bending to nurse the throbbing appendage before reaching out a hand to find the slimy wall. Grimacing, he moved slowly up the staircase, his movements slow and steady so no one would hear him.

  Jeremy was still very unsure of his exact location, and with each step that carried him up, he prayed he’d be able to escape. His journey up the staircase ended abruptly with his face smashing into a wooden door with a thud. “Shit!” he mumbled, rubbing his tender forehead. If I could get out of this hellhole without major injury, that would be great! He thought as he held his breath, listening. As no one came to the door to find the source of the noise, he relaxed, but just slightly. Fumbling down the door, he found the knob and turned it slowly, gritting his teeth at the loud squeak as he pushed the door outward. Carefully he peeked around the edge of the door and knew exactly where he was. Claudio didn't even bother taking me somewhere else, he figured I would be too weak to ever escape. Too bad, Grandfather, you made a mistake. Jeremy’s nostrils flared in anger and he eased the door open more, just mere inches to slip into the room.

  The mansion was silent, the only sound his ears picked up were those of the vampire orgy in another area of the house. They were too busy screwing each other and eating humans to pay much attention to a shadow slipping along the corridor. He was able to hide from the mind-controlled humans as well, ducking into an alcove as the doddering old butler passed. Slipping into a room on the first floor, he found some pants and a shirt to wear and someone's wallet. He flipped it open to see a man's driver's license, a Jerome Dupree. Poor man, you're probably long dead, hope you don't mind me taking your money. Tiptoeing back toward the door, he grabbed a coat from the closet and found some boots that would have to fit, then he eased out the front door and slipped down the stairs before pulling the boots on.

  Suddenly the sound of a car coming up the drive made him panic, and he jumped into the bushes by the door, begging his pulse to slow so no vampire would be alerted to his presence. Claudio exited the car, cursing with every breath he took. Two of his human guards flanked him into the house. Was it his imagination or was Claudio limping pretty badly? And why did he have blood all over his face? It looked like he'd been in a pretty good fight. Interesting. Jeremy wished he had time to find out just what had happened to his dear, sweet grandfather, but alas, he was running for his life before anyone discovered he was gone.

  He released a slow breath and waited for the driver to put the car away. Slipping through the bushes lining the house, barely more than a shadow, he followed the driver to the garage. Moving like a whisper of the night, he grabbed the short man and threw him against the wall. Jeremy checked his pulse after he slid to the floor. He was alive, but he’d have a major headache when he woke up. Murmuring, “I'm sorry,” Jeremy took the keys and got into the car.

  The engine purred to life. He backed the car out of the garage and crept slowly down the driveway. Once he was out of sight of the house, he flipped the lights on and gunned the engine. The car barely got above a purr, but took off like a bolt of lightning. He had to get somewhere and get blood. The hospital would be the quickest and cleanest route. No risk of the blood being drugged there. Then I need to make some plans. He navigated the roads quickly, pushing the speed limits of the road to get to Paris and quench his thirst. The idea of stopping to enjoy some human companionship crossed his mind, and maybe he’d do so once the worst of his thirst was quenched. Now he was too afraid to kill again. Pulling into the parking lot of the hospital, he opened the door of the car and jogged slowly toward the door, staying in the shadows. A scent he’d know anywhere caught his nostrils. He looked around frantically.

  If I didn't know any better, I’d swear I smelled Sasha. But that's impossible, she doesn't remember me and why would she be in Paris? Turning, he saw a cab driving away and his nostrils flared as he focused in on the scent fading on the breeze. A part of him wanted to go back to the car and race after the cab, to see if it really was her and to see her face one last time, but he knew he had to take care of his basic needs right now, or any human he came across would be in danger.

  Slipping in the back door of the hospital, he went to the cold storage room and grabbed a few bags of O negative and slipped them into his coat. He casually walked back out of the room, bumping into a petite nurse.

  “Monsieur, you should not be back here!” she admonished him, pushing him out the door.

  He smiled suavely,
“My apologies, mademoiselle, I got lost in this big hospital!”

  He fought the urge to rip her jugular out, it would be so very easy to bite that pretty neck and suck warm blood straight from a vein, but he refused to hurt the nurse. He shuffled down the hall, gripping the cold bags of blood and ignoring the siren's call of the nurse's blood. As he stumbled out the door, the nurse locked it from the inside.

  Once he got back to the car, he slid behind the wheel and bit into one of the blood bags, not even taking the time to open the port and suck it out like a gentleman. The feel of the blood, albeit cold, running down his throat, calmed his nerves and he felt his strength returning. He drained the bag in mere seconds and grabbed another. Gulping it down, he rested his head against the back of his seat and took a slow breath. He fought against the pure lust he felt. His cock throbbed in his jeans. How long have I been without blood? Too damn long, judging by my dick. Claudio has definitely been feeding me something, keeping me just alive enough…for something.

  Jeremy took another slow breath to focus his thoughts. I'm losing my mind, thinking I smelled Sasha. She's back in Chicago, far away from this mess and safe. I hope so, anyway. Right now I can't worry about some phantom smell I thought I detected. I need to sleep, get some more blood, and catch up with Trevor, and not necessarily in that order. Starting the car, he pulled out of the parking lot of the hospital and back out into the street. On the outskirts of town he found a seedy little motel and parked the car.

  First, I need some sleep. Sliding the bag of blood in his coat pocket, he checked the man's wallet he’d taken and found enough money to get himself a room for the night. He hurried from the car and into the little motel and looked inside. A young girl was at the desk, snapping her gum. Perfect.

  He turned the charm on and glided to the counter. “Mademoiselle?”

  The girl looked up, electric blue liner circling her wide blue eyes. They bugged out a bit and she licked her lip unconsciously. He was aware that she found him incredibly hot, based on the smell she suddenly started exuding. It was like warm sticky caramel and sex. He sighed and knew he needed to use this to his advantage.

  “Oui? Can I help you?” She snapped her gum again.

  “I certainly hope so. I need a room, just for tonight.” He smiled charismatically.

  She flushed slightly, her pupils dilating. “A room?” He nodded. She stared and then shook her head. “Oh. Um, it is way past check in time, I'm not supposed to take anyone after ten.”

  He leaned on the counter. “Please, mademoiselle. It would make me really happy if you could bend the rules, just this once.” He felt like a pervert, but he definitely needed to sleep. He smiled again and bit his lip, giving her a wicked look.

  She blinked and blushed again. “Okay…give me a second to get you checked in.” She was breathless as she typed on the keyboard of her computer.

  “Merci, darling.”

  “Do you have some identification I could see?” She asked sweetly and his heart froze.

  Staring deep into her eyes he leaned further over the counter and ran a thumb over her cheek. “Darling, I’m sorry for this.”

  “Sorry for what?” she replied, the end of her sentence ending in a shriek as Jeremy leapt over the counter and slammed her head into the metal filing cabinet beside her chair. He glanced down at her with a sigh, knowing that hypnotizing her would be simpler, but he couldn't stand using the extra energy. Shaking his head, he carefully pulled a room key from the rack under the counter.

  “I just need a place to sleep. Nothing more.” Stepping over her prone form, he hurried down the hallway to room one hundred eighteen and unlocked the door. Slipping into the room he fell across the empty bed and fell instantly asleep.

  The next morning he woke late and drained the last bag of blood before stumbling out of the bed. The sound of sirens filled the air and Jeremy sighed. The night clerk had been found and now the cops would be scouring the area to figure out what happened. It's probably best if I get the hell out of Dodge. It would be just a little hard to explain how I got into this room and it's not supposed to be in use. He pocketed his empty blood bag and opened the curtains of his room. The sky hung soupy and dark in the sky and rain slid down his window.

  Shifting his gaze to the parking lot, he could see the police were looking in the car he’d “borrowed” from Claudio, and he turned to pace the room for a moment, giving himself a precious few minutes to come up with a plan. I've had some blood, I've had some sleep, now I need to figure out a way to get in contact with Trevor. But first I have to bust out of this joint without getting locked up. He moved back to the window and peeked between the curtains again. The coast seemed to be clear and he opened the window and growled at the mesh screen in his way. Reaching up to the corner he found a loosened area and with a quick jerk, pulled the screen loose so he could slip out. He hiked one leg through the hole and then the other, crouching down low as he made it to the ground.

  So far no one had spotted him, and he preferred to keep it that way. Inching along the edge of the building he slipped behind it and then ran into an adjoining field. His breath fogged in the crisp air and his side ached as he ran, but he wanted to put as much space between him and the cops as possible. Finally he cut back toward the road and waited for someone to come down it.

  Sometime later, an old blue pickup truck came rumbling down the road and Jeremy rushed up the embankment and in front of the vehicle. It shuddered to a stop just inches in front of his body. “Son, what the hell is wrong with you?” the man yelled at him. “You could have been killed.”

  Jeremy walked to the driver's side and wrenched the door open before pulling the older man out and pushing him to the pavement. “Remember your wise words, you could’ve been killed today also, but your life was spared. Thanks for the truck.”

  He crawled in and threw the truck in drive, pushing the old engine hard to get away from the old man and back into the city. Jeremy kept glancing up in the rearview mirror, waiting for the cops to find him, but his luck held as he entered Paris. Pulling over to the side of the street, he shut the truck off and tossed the keys on the floorboard. Guilt pricked at him for his poor treatment of the old man, and he pulled half of the money left in the purloined wallet out and tucked it in the glove box. “Thanks, old-timer,” he mumbled as he opened the door and left the truck behind.

  Now I have to find a phone. He blended into the crowds and walked along the sidewalk, putting himself as far from the old truck as possible. A niggling feeling wouldn't leave him alone as he walked. What if I did smell Sasha? Could it have been possible? I guess perhaps she could be here for something with her restaurant. Do I want to dig into it and find her? Just to see her face again? I'll call Trevor, he’ll be able to tell me what's going on. I'm sure my old friend would like to hear my voice anyway.

  Glancing around he spotted a pay phone down the block and he hustled across the street. Opening the sliding glass door, he stepped inside and picked up the receiver before pressing zero. The operator came on and asked how she could help, and he told her to connect a collect call through to Trevor's cell phone.

  The phone rang across the miles and Trevor finally answered. “Hello? Sasha? What have you gotten yourself into? Francois can't find you, again! What did I tell you about being damn Nancy Drew?”

  Jeremy cut him off. “It's not Sasha. It's me. What the hell is she doing here? Is it for the restaurant? Wait. How in the hell does she know you? Wait. She knows you? Shit. Don't tell me…no. She can't remember me, right? What the hell is going on, man?”

  Trevor choked. “Jeremy! What the hell? You're alive? Where are you? Are you with Sasha?”

  “Of course I'm alive, just barely, but I'm here. Why would I be with Sasha? She doesn't remember me, right? Right? I'm in Paris, in a payphone booth. It's a long story. I need documents to get back to the US. I need a flight. Get one for her too, just on a different flight. Get her back on US soil and make sure she’s safe. I'll be back with you in
a few hours. I have some things to finish off.”

  “You’d better not hang up this phone!”

  “What?” Jeremy put the phone back to his ear in irritation.

  “She remembers everything, Jeremy, and she was there in Paris determined to find you. Claudio told her that you were dead and I have her coming back on a plane tomorrow. She’s a wreck. You need to go to her because there’s something you need to know and you aren't hearing it from me.”

  Jeremy's blood cooled, significantly, in his veins. “She remembers everything and she’s here to find me? She's met Claudio? Shit. I tried so hard to protect her from him.”

  “Yes, dammit, she does know everything. She was mad as hell when she found me. She says you and I are at the top of her asshole list, whatever that is. We have to get her somewhere safe. We can discuss this later. Be prepared for anything, man…I mean that. Francois called me a little while ago and said she made it back to Hotel Lolita after she ducked him earlier today. No matter how you feel about keeping her at arm's length, you need to go to her. Trust me on this, please. She needs you right now. She needs to know how you feel, because she's got it all mixed up inside her brain.”

  Jeremy hung up without speaking and rushed down the sidewalk. He hailed a cab and told him to drive to Hotel Lolita as fast as he could. My God, Sasha’s here in Paris, and she remembers everything. She's met Claudio. I have no doubt she’s angry with me. I should stay away, let her think I'm dead and let her live her life, but I can't. I just want to see her. I won't do anything else. Just look, not touch. I want to hear her voice, just one last time, then I'll send her away. Whatever I have to do to keep her safe, even if it kills us both. The cab moved through the city and Jeremy drummed his fingers against the seat impatiently. Finally the driver stopped and Jeremy pulled the last of the cash out of his stolen wallet and tossed it to him. “Thank you,” he said quickly as he rushed out the door and up the steps of the hotel.