Garnet Lacey - Tall, Dark And Dead Part 19

"Really. No."

"You're already bleeding." The disappointment showed in more than his voice. He'd stopped moving.

I started noticing the icy temperature of his body where it pressed inside me. "Excuse me if I don't trust you to be satisfied with just a taste."

Parrish laughed and then kissed my lips hard. He wrapped his arms around my waist tightly, protectively, the way I secretly loved to be held. Into my ear, he grunted, somewhat painfully, "Garnet, you always leave me wanting more."

I wanted to continue having s.e.x, but it was clear Parrish's interest had cooled, shall we say. With some effort, we disentangled. The s.p.a.ce between my legs ached with unspent pa.s.sion. Parrish looked deeply pained, but he resolutely lay beside me on the floor, letting our bodies touch. One of his hands roamed the curve of my shoulders. Calloused fingertips trailed along the taut skin over my rib cage, slowly moving toward the mound of my belly. I shivered again, only this time with more heat.

His lips hovered over the tiny puncture wound he'd left on my neck. "Your beauty is unparalleled, my love," he whispered in my ear.

It was such a sweet, poetic thing to say. My brain was still fuzzy from the s.e.x, so without thinking I said, "You're such a big romantic, Parrish. How can you stand to do it for money?"

Parrish looked stricken. I covered my mouth as though to shut the barn door after the horses had gotten out. His jaw twitched as he recovered his composure. He stood up, his eyes locked on mine as though daring me to take in his powerful, magnificent, naked body for a moment. Then he stalked into the kitchen. I heard him rooting around in the refrigerator. "I'm starving," he announced.

"Uh, help yourself to anything you find," I said, pulling myself back up onto the couch, feeling stupid and mean. I hate the way my mouth and brain refused to work together. I hadn't meant to bring it up, especially now that I knew it was true.

I heard bottles clinking.

"I'm sorry," I said, loud enough to be heard in the kitchen. "Really sorry, Parrish. It's just... it's not like you, is it? Normally, if you were hard up for cash, you'd knock over a bank or something."

I heard a small chuckle. "You can only do that so many times," he said. "A smart thief is judicious."

Locating my sweatshirt on the arm of the couch, I pulled it over my head. I waited for Parrish to say more. Around my knees I wrapped the brown-and-white afghan I picked up at an estate sale for fifty cents.

Parrish sauntered back into the living room. He'd helped himself to a super-green smoothie from my fridge, and then joined me on the couch. He threw an arm around my shoulder, like there was no tension between us. Despite myself, I snuggled into it. Parrish's body temperature might be unsatisfactory, but he still had a comforting solidness about him. "I'm surprised you didn't sell Sebastian's grimoire," I said.

"I suppose you are," he said. Peeling off the top, he took a long swallow. He made a face. "Ugh. This tastes like wet sod."

"That's because it is. I think the main ingredient is wheatgra.s.s."

"It's unhealthy," he said, setting it carefully on the floor.

"You drank it. Aren't you going to get sick?"

"Until the fangs retract, I can eat or drink anything I'd like without major consequences, remember?"

Interesting. I hadn't realized they were still out.

"You could have sold the grimoire to the Order." I continued, with a glance at the arrow stub in the wall.

"They seem pretty determined."

Parrish removed his arm from around my shoulder to pick up his leather pants where they lay half under the couch. He stepped into them without standing. "I didn't contact the Vatican, Garnet. How could I? I know what they are to you."

"But, if you needed money... ?"

"You think I'd sell you out for the Pope's gold? You must not think very highly of me."

He stood up to tuck himself in, zip up his fly, and buckle his belt. I knew what I was supposed to say, but our respective positions put me in the wrong frame of mind. I couldn't help but imagine him doing something like this in some dark corner of a sleazy street. "You'd rather sell your body?"

Parrish put his hand on his narrow hips, looking extraordinarily available and s.e.xy all at the same time.

"It's nothing I haven't done before."

That surprised me.

When I didn't say anything, he continued. "The exchange of money for s.e.x is the oldest profession.

People have done it since the dawn of time."

"People, sure. Butyou ?"

His expression, which had started to grow hard, softened a little. He turned away, his eyes scanning the room as though searching for his shirt. I knew exactly where it was. His tank top was under my leg. I pulled it out and offered it to him like a white truce flag.

"I wouldn't think Madison would be a big enough town for... all that," I said. "I mean, you're careful about doing too much thieving to alert the police. Aren't you worried about getting caught?"

He took the shirt from me with a shrug. "You know the phrase 'Don't do the crime, if you can't do the time?' Armed robbery is a felony. What I do... even if they have a law against it, wouldn't be more than a misdemeanor." So, it wasn'tprecisely his body he was selling. Even though I still wasn't happy with the situation, things had become infinitely more tolerable. If someone wanted to pay Parrish to bite them, well, that was their problem.

"But... why?"

"The job satisfaction is enormous," Parrish said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"No, seriously," I said. "It just doesn't seem like you, Parrish."

He placed a hand over his heart. "I'm flattered. However, perhaps you would be surprised to discover how difficult it is for a man such as myself to find honest work. I have no letter of introduction, no resume that does not include the words 'highwayman' or 'bank robber,' and an inability to search for employment during the daylight hours."

I thought about that for a moment. I'd worked third shift at a twenty-four-hour grocery once, back in college, but I'd had my interview during regular nine-to-five hours. I also got the call to come interview during the day. I could imagine Parrish going through all the trouble to apply for a job, say as a security guard, only to never get the job because the call would come while he slept.

Even if he got the job through some miraculous timing, most places with multiple shifts rotated staff through the various hours so no one would be burdened with always having to work late night. Similarly, it always seemed there were mandatory staff gatherings that would happen during the day. How frustrating to always be off the time zone of the main culture. "You're probably an illegal alien, too. I'll bet you don't have a social security card or a pa.s.sport."

"You'd be right." His tone softened when I didn't give him grief about his current profession. "I shipped overseas in a cargo hold. The manifest claimed me as a corpse, which was in fact true. I snuck in alongside war dead." He gave a little shrug at the memory. "It was the only way to travel back then."

"Wow. I hadn't really given it much thought. I'll bet there are a lot of things you can't do."

"I've heard the Internet makes some things a lot easier now. I wouldn't know. I've rarely had a place to call my own, much less the disposable income to purchase a major appliance like a computer."

"Yeah," I said. I could relate to that. The only computer I used was the one we had at work. I hated how inaccessible not having one at home made me. To be so cut off from so much culture and opportunity must frustrate the h.e.l.l out of someone like Parrish, who was already an outsider. "No wonder all the vampires want Sebastian's formula."

His eyes narrowed, and his voice was clipped with unfiltered anger. "Yes."

"Are you being careful?" I asked.

Parrish shut his eyes. His jaw clenched. "I don't have to be."

"Yes, you do. I worry about you."

"Do you? Still?"

"Of course." I didn't hesitate. I had never entirely gotten over Parrish, and tonight was a testimony tothat. But Sebastian complicated things. Even if I was angry with Sebastian after the whole Feather incident, he was still out there. I'd still have to see him again, one way or another. "But-"

Parrish's finger touched my lips. "I'm desperately in love with you, Garnet. Surely you must realize that by now."

I hadn't.

Parrish apparently didn't notice my stunned expression, or maybe he chose to ignore it. "I could have gone anywhere to escape my debt. A larger, more metropolitan center would have better served my need to disappear. I came here because you were here. Quite simply, I wanted to be with you."

Oh, what c.r.a.ppy timing.

It also ruined a theory I'd had percolating in the back of my head. Since I didn't want to deal with Parrish's unrequited love at the moment, I blurted, "So, ifyou didn't tell the Vatican to look for Sebastian here, who did?"

To his credit, Parrish rolled with the abrupt subject change pretty well under the circ.u.mstances. "What the b.l.o.o.d.y Christ are you talking about? Can't we talk about us?"

Wow. Daniel Parrish wanted to talk relationship. I'd really hurt him. He pulled away and crossed his arms in front of his bare chest.

"I'm sorry, okay?" I said. "You have to admit that our previous relationship was, well, fraught."

I couldn't think of a better word that took into account all the ghoul girlfriends and nights spent alone wondering whose blood-or other things-he was sucking. Being jealous, then feeling stupid for even imagining I could tame a wild thing like Parrish, followed by realizing I probably wouldn't particularly like him domesticated, anyway.

"Garnet," Parrish said my name as if it were a command for me to pay attention. "We just had s.e.x.

Wasn't that 'fraught'?"

He had me there. How could I explain all the mixed-up emotions that had inspired my libido? "Um, yes?"

He pulled his shirt over his head in a fluid motion. Then he rubbed his bare arms as though wishing he had more clothes to put on. He shook out his hair, which shimmered in the low light like red gold. He stared at me for a moment, not saying a word. His lips compressed into a thin, angry line. "Forget it."

Forget he said he loved me? I pulled the afghan tighter around my bare legs. "How can I? Parrish, it's not that I don't-" Oops, dangerous ground. There was no denying that my feelings for Parrish were strong. Did I love him? I was certain I had once. I probably still did.

Before I could finish untangling my thoughts, he put up a hand to stop me. "I get it, Garnet."

"You do?"

"Sure," he said. "Don't worry about it." I frowned at him. I'd missed something. "What are you talking about, Parrish?"

Parrish shrugged. "I'm not the kind of guy who inspires happily ever after. You don't even trust me to bite you. You never did."

Ah. I wondered how long it would take before this old argument surfaced. Well, given the nature of our coitus interrupts, I'm surprised it hadn't sooner. "It's not about trust. If I wanted to give blood, I'd donate to the Red Cross."

His eyes flicked over the bruise on my shoulder. "Yet Sebastian convinces you somehow."

"He took liberties with us," I snapped. "Get over it."

The mixture of horror and surprise on Parrish's face made me mentally replay what I'd just said. I supposed the "us" made me sound a little insane, but I couldn't quite fathom why he still gave me the you're-scaring-me glare.

"What?" I asked.

Parrish continued to gape. Freak the mundane was one thing; I never expected to get the what-the-h.e.l.l- are-you rapid blinking from a vampire. Then I remembered. Parrish had never met Lilith.

"Oh," I started. "When I said 'us,' uh, I meant 'me.' "

His thin lips jerked up in a kind of smirking smile, which was much better than the look of abject fear. "I see. So then the speaking with two voices at once was just some kind of Freudian slip?"

Two voices? Had She spoken through me? "Creepy."

"I'd say."

Here was the part where I should have started volunteering the whole story of how I'd walked in on the Vatican's cleanup crew that night and drew Lilith down from Heaven, or up from h.e.l.l, depending on your perspective. Instead, I stared at him blankly, not knowing even where to begin.

Parrish hadn't balked when I'd told him I needed help with some heavy lifting that turned out to be several bodies. He'd even suggested I aerate the bodies with a pitchfork to help the decomposition ga.s.ses escape. He could have told me to get lost, especially considering that I'd broken up with him two days before, but he'd been a calm in the storm-a homicide expert to lean on.

Clearly, he must have suspected I'd had some kind of magical help, but he'd let me keep my secrets. He never asked any questions, not even when he saw the vestments... or the damage I'd done.

Later, I found out through a tiny mention in the metro section of Minneapolis's Star Tribune that the coven's house had been destroyed by fire. I always suspected that Parrish had something to do with it. I hadn't been able bury my friends in secret. I'd wanted their families to have bodies to claim. I'd insisted we leave them exactly where they lay that night. Parrish made a strong argument about forensic evidence and how Wiccans did not need the sensational press blathering on about what would look like some kind of occult murder scene, but I'd started sobbing so hysterically that he backed down.

Now Parrish sat down on the couch and waited patiently for me to say more, his pale blue eyes scanningmy face. A tiny smudge of blood clung to his lower lip. I used my thumb to wipe it off. "That night," I said. "Didn't you ever wonder how I'd done it? Killed all those agents, I mean."

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Someone tore their throats out."

"You thoughtI did that?"

"Youdid do it, Garnet."

"My body did," I corrected. "Lilith did the killing. I... channeled Lilith."

Parrish nodded, like he wasn't completely surprised by this revelation. He tucked a stray curl of auburn hair behind his ear. I recognized it as his contemplative gesture, especially when he started rolling the tip of the strand between his thumb and finger. "I see," he said. "And She's taken up residence, has she? As a payment for services rendered?"

I hadn't thought about it like that, but I supposed it was true. I'd a.s.sumed Lilith had become grafted to me by accident, since I'd built no protective circle, hadn't grounded, called wards, or any of the usual safeguards required for that kind of powerful spell work.

"And now the priests are back," Parrish said with a nod at the arrow on the wall. "Do they know about your G.o.ddess-in-residence?"

"I think so. At least, they do now. They had a sensitive with them."

"To fight Sebastian," he surmised. "But they found you, instead."

"Yeah, and I still don't get how they knew to look for Sebastian here. I mean, the first agent I ran into might have followed Izzy and me back here, but how would they know he was coming over tonight or that the grimoire might be here?"

No one else besides Parrish knew about the missing grimoire, and he swore he didn't narc. Sebastian would hardly give up his own secrets. Who did that leave? Matyas.

When Parrish didn't respond, I asked, "Have you heard of a dhampyr?"

"Dhampyr." Parrish rolled the word around in his mouth, as though trying it out for the first time.

"Dam-fear," he said again, slowly, exaggerating the p.r.o.nunciation. "A dhampyr is the s.e.xual offspring between a human and a vampire. Often said to have magical abilities and an extended life span.

Sometimes turns Queen's evidence on his vampiric parent and becomes a hunter," he said. "A complete myth. No such creature exists."

"I met one."