Vampire Fight Club

smooth satin. Fade would bruise that luscious skin and make those lips bleed.

A low growl vibrated through his chest at the thought, and he had to make an effort to tamp it down as he escorted Lena into his office and then sent a text to Marsden, warning him to keep an eye on Fade. They couldn’t stop their boss from causing trouble in his own club, but they could do their best to redirect his focus. And right now, Nate’s number one goal was to redirect the asshole away from Lena.

“What was that about?” she asked, when he was finished texting Mars.

“Nothing. Just stay away from Fade, got it?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she muttered. “Who is he, anyway?”

Nate tossed the phone to the desk a little too forcefully, and it slid to the floor. Fuck it. It could stay there. “He’s the club owner.”

Head cocked in a decidedly canine manner, Vladlena studied him as if he were some sort of puzzle to solve. “Clearly, you don’t like him. So why do you work for him?”

And wasn’t that the question of the century. Literally. He knew why he’d come here to work, but why he was still here . . . not so sure.

“Are you always so nosy?”

She graced him with a sunny smile that fit her so well. From her glowing, tan skin to her bright blonde hair, there wasn’t an ounce of darkness in her. As great as she looked in the tailored black scrubs, he was tempted to order cheery yellow ones to suit her better.

“Must be the cat in me,” she said breezily.

“Funny, but I’m not seeing a lot of cat in you.”

Her smile faltered, but she recovered with an admirable deflection away from his observation. “Are you going to answer the question?”

“I didn’t think I owed you any answers.”

She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I suppose you don’t. But it would be nice.”

Nice? Nice? Where had this female grown up? She was the least underworldly creature he’d ever met. He liked it. She reminded him of life before he’d been turned. Life before it had become a waking nightmare.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said. “You tell me why you’re really here, and I’ll tell you why I work for Fade.”

The color drained out of her face so fast he nearly jumped to catch her if she passed out. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your reaction tells me otherwise.”

She stiffened. “I should get back to the office—”

He blocked her path. “What’s your hurry?”

“I have a job to do.”

“I’m the boss, and I say your job can wait.”

Angry red splotches colored her cheeks. “No wonder your other medics quit. Did you bully them, too?”

“Nope.”

She folded her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up and out. She should do that more. “So I’m special. How lovely.”

“They didn’t keep secrets from me.” What color of bra was she wearing? She seemed like the type to wear practical beige or pure, sensible white.

“My secrets are my own, and you have no right to them.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to her face. “My eyes are up here, Mr. Sabine.”

Busted. Hard. He forced his attention away from his raging libido. “I have a right to them if they affect my business.”

“They don’t.” She adjusted the well-worn stethoscope around her neck, even though it hadn’t moved an inch. She’d done it out in the hall as well.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asked, and his eyes flicked to her fingers, which hovered over the time-whitened black tubing, and she jerked her hands to her sides. “It was my father’s.”

“So it’s a comfort.”

Her cheeks pinked delicately, as if a painter’s brush had swept rose stain across them. “I know it’s stupid. I just haven’t had time to get a new one.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” He reached out to brush out of her eye a strand of hair that had escaped its braid, letting his fingers linger on her warm skin. Gods, there was such life in her, life that pulsed vibrantly under his fingertips and revved him like a motorcycle at full throttle. “Tell me, how do you survive in our world when you’re so transparent? Who has taken care of you all this time?”

He hadn’t meant his softly-spoken question as an insult, but she jerked away from him with a hiss.

“Shut up,” she snapped. “Just . . .” She slapped her hand over her mouth, her expression stricken. “I . . . oh, geez, I’m sorry.” He let her gather her wits, forcing himself to not reach for her again. “Look, I’m a little sensitive about this, okay? I’m trying to make it on my own. I’m out from under my father’s thumb, and I’m tired of being protected and sheltered and treated like I’m made of glass. I can do things by myself. There are things I need to do before I die, you know?”

She made dying sound imminent. Yes, as a shifter, she was long-lived, but she wasn’t immortal. Still, he sensed she was young, and she probably had a few hundred years left in her, so why the rush to do things?

“So, is this job part of your trying to make it on your own?”

Her brows pulled down into a deep frown. “Yes,” she said, as if that thought had only now occurred to her, and maybe surprised her a little. “Your turn. Why are you working for a man you hate?” She stepped closer to him, and he doubted she even realized it. She was too busy regarding him with that you’re-a-mystery-to-solve look again. “This has something to do with the fire you were talking about, doesn’t it? The way it can burn so hot that it burns itself out.”

Clearly, he’d said way too much to her, and even more clearly, she was too smart for her own good. Unable to think while she was staring at him with those too-knowledgeable eyes, he turned away from her and braced his hands on the bar. He sensed more than heard Lena move closer, and when her hand came down on his arm, it was as if he’d jammed his finger into an electrical socket. His body jerked, his muscles tensed, and intense, searing heat melted the marrow deep in his bones. Gods, when was the last time he’d reacted like that to a woman?

The answer to that was something he didn’t want to think about, because he hadn’t even had that response to his wife.

The thought turned into a growl that pumped out of his chest as though it had been building steam for years. Too late, he realized he might have frightened Lena, but oddly, she didn’t flinch. In fact, she began a gentle stroking action up and down his spine that both soothed him and put him into orbit.

“Don’t,” he rasped, even though he wasn’t sure why he didn’t want her touching him like that.

She ignored him, keeping up the light strokes. “Have you been with anyone since your mate died?”

His laugh was brittle to his own ears. “She didn’t die. She was murdered. And I haven’t been celibate, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, it wasn’t what I was asking.”

Frowning, he stood straight and turned to her. Her hand fell to her side. “Then what were you asking?”

“If you’ve loved anyone since.”

His head jerked back as if he’d been slapped, and he actually stepped backward to keep his balance. “Why?”

She matched his step, moving forward, and a freakish thread of panic wove through him. “Some species mate for life. I know vampires don’t, but the blood bond can be strong. I’ve seen them waste away and die of broken hearts.”

“I’m not burned out from a broken heart,” he said tightly.

“I’m ashed from hatred.”

“So you think there’s nothing left except the hate?”

“I know there’s not.” Hell, he even doubted the hate was still there most of the time.

“Then why do you continue to work? To feed? Why not just step into the sun and end it all?”

Because the sun doesn’t fry me. But yeah, he understood what she was asking.