Love At First Bite Part 19

He was out.

Back on mission, he tried to wrest his memory back to the town layout. The streets were nearly deserted. Some stores already had their grates down. Full darkness wouldn't come until eight thirty, and judging by the height of the sun, it wasn't six yet. He stopped the bike at the corner of a strip of businesses. How did he know what time it was? He was freaking himself out and had to get a grip.

His gaze scanned the line of small stores, and when he spotted the old pharmacy he kicked the bike stand down in relief. "We can run in there, cool?"

Juanita got off the bike with a smile. "It's like the old West out here-like you see in the movies."

He laughed and slung his arm over her shoulder as they walked. "Baby, this place ain't changed since those times, believe me. That's why summer was enough."

Now, the challenge. It was simple enough to collect a pair of cheap rubber sandals, a plastic disposable razor, a comb, and a two-pack of toothbrushes, but this wasn't some impersonal, huge chain store where n.o.body knew your name. The real reason for the mission was up high on a shelf behind the counter, and the old lady who sat on a stool at the register fanning herself only spoke Navajo. How in the heck was he gonna ask Grandma for a double six-pack of Trojans!

Juanita edged away from the register. Aw, man, this was bad.

Jose dumped his stash of toiletries on the counter, and the old woman grinned a black, toothless grin and began ringing up his purchases. He spied Juanita glimpsing him from the corner of her eye. Okay. Cool. He lifted his chin. He was grown, was a man. So what if the old lady dimed him out to his grandmother? Pops had left a stash, anyhow.

"And, uh, two boxes," he said, pointing to the shelf behind the elderly matron. What was the word, what was the word-d.a.m.n, he never learned the language cold like he should have!

She frowned and picked up two boxes of aspirin and began to add them to the items she was ringing up.

"No, uhm, not that."

She stopped and stared at him, then slowly put the items back, pointing at Pepto-Bismol.

The old woman was making him die a thousand quiet deaths, and he motioned with his thumbs higher to the next shelf.

She hesitated for a moment, then looked at Juanita, who had worked her way toward the door, and then looked back at him.

Slowly, the old woman covered her mouth, giggled, nodded with a sigh, and jumped down off the stool to fetch a retail grabber stick. Jose sent his gaze down an adjacent aisle, too through. The boxes the storekeeper pulled down had so much dust on them he could write his name on the top. Now he had to check an expiration date, too, with Grandma staring at him?

Cringing, he pointed at the date without a word, trying to keep his dignity, act cool, nonchalant, like it was no big deal.

But when the old woman covered her mouth and burst out laughing, he was ready to forget it all. However, Juanita's shy smile bathed in setting sunlight made him endure while the elderly lady went to the back and brought out something with a fresher date.

She said something to him in Navajo that he didn't totally catch. Something about breathing new life. But he wasn't trying to hang

around to hear all of that. He paid for his purchase, collected the bag, said a quick thank-you, and walked out the door ahead of Juanita.

She jumped on the bike behind him, laughing. "Oh, my G.o.d."

"Yeah," he said, finding it hard to laugh. "Like I said, this ain't LA."

He heard her stomach growl so loud that he thought the motor was already on. "You hungry?" he asked, stomping down on the pedal and realizing how starved he was.

"Can we grab a couple burgers and take them back to the house?"

"Yeah, but there's no such thing as fast food out here. We can get burgers at the diner and have them boxed to go."

"Then let's ride," she said, snuggling against him and laughing.

He loved the sound of her voice through his skin.

The smell of meats cooking, milk shakes, and coffee was making his stomach contract with need. They sat outside on the small metal bike rail to escape the inside fans that just re-circulated heat, waiting for their order, which was slow to come. Even though there were only a few truckers sipping coffee inside, the process of getting a couple of pops, two burgers, and some fries seemed like it took forever. But somehow, when he was with her, just laughing and talking, time didn't matter so much.

"If I hadn't dropped my purse back in LA, I would have been able to help out in the store," she said merrily, swinging her legs back and forth.

"It's cool," Jose said, enjoying her smile. "Like we're in this adventure together and I'd do it anyway, even if you did have your purse."

"Yeah, but you've gotta keep your ride straight," she said, nodding toward the bike. "It's beautiful."

"Ain't mine," Jose admitted, jumping down off the rail to go run his hand over the gleaming handlebar. "It's just a loaner."

"Who loaned you a bike like that? I mean..."

"Now you sound like my mom," he said, chuckling.

"Look, I wasn't trying to go there, but a bike like that, Jose... I don't want you to get yourself caught up in any-"

"It's cool, but I like that you're more worried about me than a fly hog."

"My brother... he deals, okay? And his friends, they do, too. I never rode in their cars and went with them because-just because. I don't believe in it."

He studied her sad face in the shards of sunlight that were left, loving every word she'd said. The rose-orange tinge made her complexion so beautiful. The way the breeze blew her wind-dried hair and she repeatedly removed it from her face and licked her lips, growing nervous. If she had any idea what her caution had just done to him...

"Remember that old guitar player I told you about?"

She nodded but wasn't looking at him when she did.

"My people did him a favor, a long, long time ago... maybe I was like five or so."

Juanita glanced up.

"He rode into town on this machine, lady on the back of it, near dead from a demon bite-legend has it." Jose stood taller and walked around the bike, touching it with gentle caresses, like he'd approached a shrine. "She was the love of his life, and he brought her to her grandmother, who later married my pops, became my abuela by marriage."

"What happened to her?" Juanita said, quietly rapt.

"Pops and Nana made good magic, but she crossed over and became a spirit."

Juanita covered her mouth. "Oh no, she died?"

Jose nodded. "f.u.c.ked my mentor around, you know. Rider sorta stood in every now and then for my dad, who died real young." He stared at her, smoothing his hand across the seat. "Dude left here, went to go lose himself in a bottle for a while to get over the loss, then little by little, once a year, he'd come back all sick for my nana to heal him. After a few days, he'd hang around and chill out with me... tell me stuff about me having a nose like him-a schnoz, he called it." Jose looked at her, hoping she'd understand. "Said I was a tracker, and needed to learn how to shoot dead-aim. Then he'd get all weird about legends and s.h.i.t, talking about my destiny... would start sounding like Pops."

"He must have been in a lot of pain."

Jose nodded, his eyes locked on her sad gaze. "Until I met you, I couldn't really get with how deep it was for him." He shrugged and looked out into the distance. "One day he said he wasn't coming back for a while. The year I graduated high school... said to keep his lady clean, talking about this silver and black beauty that purrs in your crotch. Said where he was going he didn't need a chopper." The hard memory got caught in the lump in Jose's throat behind his Adam's apple, and he drew in a shuddering breath to dislodge it. "It's been years-ain't seen or heard from him. I keep the bike clean, polished, hoping he didn't do something crazy like put a bullet in his skull. He'd said he was gonna go join a band, some warriors or something." Jose let a hard breath out. "Who knows?"

Juanita slid down off the rail and came to his side, her graceful hand touching his forearm. "You keep the bike clean for him, okay? He'll come back."

"It's cool," Jose said, kicking a pebble away from a tire. "I'm just glad you believe me and didn't think I got it dealing drugs, like my mother. Have it her way and she'd take it to the sc.r.a.p metal yard." Jose walked around the bike, his fingers grazing surfaces. "This is a custom-kitted Harley that the man designed and funked out himself."

"It's beautiful," she murmured, not sure what to say as she watched him go inside himself and bleed.

"It's a f.u.c.king fingerprint, a one-of-a-kind work of art. It's in every drawing I do. Respect," he said, his gaze catching hers in a sudden trap. "He told me a story about how he'd ridden this halfway across the country with his woman bleeding on it after a demon attack. Until I saw what we saw, I didn't believe him. I thought it was the bottle and bulls.h.i.t talking. But that night, last night, when you were on the back of this night rider, all I kept doing was praying to G.o.d-'ride me like the night wind, let me make it without one of those things slashing my woman,' that was my prayer. 'Don't let me drop the bike on a spinout.'"

"You didn't drop me, and nothing touched me, Jose," she said in a near whisper.

He glanced up at the waning sun and then stared at her. "If something like that ever were to happen to you, I'd be messed up- just like him. And he told me some crazy s.h.i.t, that I've never told another living soul... said to bring me back his bike and he'd buy me my own, when I was ready to go demon-hunting with him." Jose raked his hair. "Said I'd be coming into some special powers, would learn how to track a scent like a bloodhound. Would join some underground group of warriors who had to protect this chick called a Neteru, or something, whatever that is. Then Pops keeps saying that I have Thunderbird in me, whatever that s.h.i.t means. All I know is, since last night, my nose is... it's like I can tell the time of day without a watch, and can separate out scents like a d.a.m.ned hunting beagle. I don't know what I'm trying to say; all I know is the burgers and fries are done-and I shouldn't know that!"

"Let's go get our food and go home," she said as calmly as possible. She used her voice as a gentle prod, not fully understanding Jose's angst but feeling everything he'd said in her marrow.

He seemed so bewildered that she simply threaded her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder, walking him toward the diner. But as they stood at the register and waited for their food to be bagged, her gaze locked with her reflection in the shiny aluminum panels above the kitchen pa.s.s-through.

Much older eyes stared back at her, frozen in time. A pair of sensuous male hands slid down her arms, but she couldn't see his face... couldn't see anything in the shiny surface but could feel it. Smooth enamel caressed the side of her neck, making her shiver with revulsion but also with desire. She suddenly felt drowsy-drugged. Yet a part of her was so wired that she almost screamed in the diner.

Juanita rubbed her neck with the palm of her hand to stave off the feeling of something touching her there. She sought Jose's eyes, but he was staring out the window, gaze locked on the nothingness in the parking lot. His profile was tense, his jaw muscle pulsing. Looking at him, his skin, she was drawn into his pores as his face suddenly became constructed by thousands of black dots. Darkness swallowed her whole as she stood in the diner by the register. She wanted to scream, tried to cry out, but something had paralyzed her vocal cords, her limbs; she could barely breathe from the crushing weight that pressed the air from her lungs.

In the faraway part of her mind she could see herself standing next to Jose in the diner, people moving about in slow motion while the waitress bagged their food. But she couldn't move as the interior of her waged war, struggling to break free of the black dots that were beginning to blot out the waning sunlight around her. Instinct told her to stay in the light, not to allow her soul to be covered over. Then her sight line became trapped in an inky splatter-that's when she saw them. The feeding.

A scream threatened to split her lungs, yet it couldn't break free as she watched the fanged creatures kneel over their limp, drained kill, heads thrown back, bulbous red eyes glowing, mouths washed red with gore. They had infested victims, mating with the dead, with one another, all of it a frenzied orgy of feeding and the carnal. Writhing bodies were everywhere. One of the creatures lifted an ashen woman's neck, then looked at her and turned the victim's face so that it could be seen.

Juanita's eyes locked with an older version of her own as the fanged, naked ent.i.ty smiled, then viciously sliced into the victim's jugular with his huge incisors. Juanita stopped breathing, the scream still lodged in her chest. Perspiration coursed down her back. Her nails dug into her palms. She could hear her own heartbeat as the pain in her chest chased her pulse. Stroke, heart attack, one or both of the above, she was quickly losing consciousness but fought to remain awake. She knew in her soul that if she pa.s.sed out, they'd have her.

"Darlin', you all right? You want some water?" the waitress said, nearing the register. "You younguns gotta be careful and pace yourself in this heat."

Juanita reeled and Jose's attention snapped toward her just in time for him to catch her before she fell.

"She don't look so good," the woman behind the register said, rushing over with a gla.s.s of water.

"My bet she's pregnant or high," the cook grumbled, and then went back to the fryer baskets.

Juanita clutched Jose's T-shirt as he helped her to sit on a counter stool and sip water. "We need to get out of here," she rasped,

gulping water and wiping at the rivulets of sweat coursing down her temples.

"You gonna be all right to ride?" Jose asked, looking concerned and glancing out the window at the waning sun.

"When's the last time you ate, hon?" the waitress asked, setting the food bags on the counter.

"That's all it is," Jose said, grabbing the satchels and helping Juanita up. "She just needs to get something in her stomach."

The moment Jose and Juanita were outside alone they both began talking at once while they hustled toward the bike and he

handed her the greasy bags.

"I know, I know, it was freaky in there," he said, nerves clearly shot.

"I couldn't move, Jose! I was just standing there one minute, then I started seeing this horrible stuff, blackness was covering me,

and I was choking on-"

"Sulfur," Jose said, finishing her sentence.

"You saw it, too?" She clutched his waist with the bags still held in her fists as they hopped on the bike.

"I didn't see it; I smelled it," he muttered, and then stomped down hard to start the motor.

Chapter Seven.

Warm air slapped his face as he rode hard, but he tried to keep the speed to a level where Juanita could hold on to his waist with one arm. She held the bags; he held the handlebar. He talked, hollering over the roar of the bike, trying to rationalize the irrational. She listened, soaking it all in, holding out hope that he was right-that what had happened in the diner was just a freaky aftershock effect brought on by suppressing what had happened the night before. It was an unrehea.r.s.ed dance of trust through the wind, down the dirt road, the family house a destination of sanctuary. The moment they crossed the threshold, he felt better.

It was near dark and his nose was picking up every scent in the house and beyond it, but burgers, fries, and two c.o.kes were calling his name. Why he was so hungry was a question he didn't have time to ponder. They both tore into the bags, swiping fries, stuffing their mouths, relief glittering in their eyes as they sat down heavily on kitchen chairs.

"I'm starved," she said through a mouthful of food. "I don't know why, but I am. After all this I should be ready to puke."

"I know. Ridiculous," he said, wolfing a burger and then closing his eyes. "I could eat a horse."

Slowly calm began to settle over them as they sloppily ate, licking their fingers and practically inhaling their food. He wondered what it would have been like to meet her under different circ.u.mstances and was glad that he'd shared so much with her while they recovered between lovemaking sessions in bed. It was odd, now, that they could just vibe, didn't need to say much, but could read each other even though only having known each other for such a short time. She was so easy to talk to. It was as though he could tell her all his dreams-even the crazy ones about joining a band-and she didn't laugh at him. He quietly wondered how things like that happened but was glad that they did. More important, he just hoped that he was right about her vision in the diner being set off by the past, not the future.

"Good thing you didn't join a band like you'd wanted; they'd put you out for eating up the concert door draw," she finally said, smiling and watching him devour his food in record time.

He glanced up from his Styrofoam and smiled, knowing that she was making small talk to stave off the earlier case of nerves. "Hey, they wouldn't put their lead drummer out," he said, banging on the table in a riff.