Blood Pool

“Not that little,” he said, signaling Solaris for another round. “Psychic or otherwise.” He winked as he set the record straight.

Adonis pulled over a stool and sat. Raven could tell he wanted to become more than a bar buddy. Whether his interest was merely sexual or something more would take a bit more time to determine.

“Is this a natural ability, or one you’ve practiced over the years?” Raven asked as she grabbed a handful of pretzels that sat in a bowl. The bar top, adorned festively for the harvest season, overflowed with tiny gourds, apples, pumpkins and mums.

“I didn’t inherit these gifts, if that’s what you mean. Although there are stories told by my family that my great-great-grandmother was a full-blooded gypsy from Romania, or Austria, or some such place.”

“That’s interesting. I have family from there, too. Romania, I mean. Where are you from? I mean, in the States?” Raven lifted her cocktail, watching her attractive drinking companion.

“ Gloucester, originally, then Atlanta. I lived in California for a few years, too.”

Raven turned toward the young man for a moment. “Let me guess, your father is a long-liner?”

Adonis fiddled with his shot glass as Solaris grabbed the bottle to fill it again. He smiled at the bartender. “Yup, for over twenty years. He has a small fleet of boats that he uses for lobsters, but he has a crew on a boat that still goes out for swordfish.”

Listening to him while looking into those pools of blue, she saw an intensity burning behind his eyes. Before she realized it, he’d taken her hand. His skin was golden and taut. Suddenly, the catcalls, hoots and hollering that filled the air faded away. Her skin warmed to his touch. Raven’s inner alarm went off. Not too many people were able to physically affect her this quickly. The part of Raven that people thought of as unnatural ran on the cool side of ninety-eight point six, which was quite ordinary for her and about a third of the island’s population.

The bar was noisy, and Adonis had leaned in closer so Raven could hear him. “I actually worked at the CDC for a time. Then I went off to the west coast to do my own research. Creating vaccines, or at least trying to make viable ones. It was very interesting work. Tedious and challenging, it kept my mind sharp.” He smelled like sugar cookies.

Something was in the air-something more than lust.

Her curiosity piqued. “What type of research?”

“I actually worked with hot agents for a while.”

“Wow, lethal viruses! That’s risky work. Which ones? How did you get involved with that?” Raven asked. Her mind attempted to prioritize some of the hundreds of questions she wanted to ask.

He ran his fingers through his hair and said with a sigh, “I was personally invited and I really couldn’t say no. It was a great opportunity. Not too many like that come up.”

“Which viruses did you work with?”

In an instant, the excitement of talking with someone who’d worked with lethal viruses was eclipsed by the sound of a deeply male and extremely sexual voice from behind the bar. Bo Wasake. “Hey, Raven.”

She knew that voice intimately and turned to find her gorgeous on-again, off-again lover, Bo Wasake, standing in the shadows. Her heart skipped a beat or two. He did that to her every time. For all of her level-headedness, when Bo was near, Raven’s knees went weak and her insides turned to mush. Even after ten years.

“Hey, Boo.” He got a charge out of trying to scare her whenever he had the chance, hence the nickname.

Bo had mixed blood. Delicious blood. And the thought of it made Raven’s mouth water in anticipation of a taste. Pavlov’s vampire.

His mother was an extraordinarily powerful witch. His father was a Lakota shaman, like Bo’s grandfather and great-grandfather, and so on down the line. Somewhere, a few sprinkles of human blood coursed through his veins, or so he claimed. Raven thought he said that just to make himself seem even more appealing to her-as if that were at all likely. He was pure perfection in every way possible.

“What about you?” Adonis asked, turning toward Raven.

“Oh-I’m the M.E. for the island.” Raven’s gaze followed the lines of Bo’s taut muscles rippling beneath his sky blue suede shirt. A sterling and turquoise belt wrapped around his narrow waist, and she envied the silver strap. She ached to encircle her legs around his hips, but the timing was all wrong.

As was his habit, he would come into her life with exploding passion then disappear for weeks. Each time he left her heartbroken and unsure of herself, a feeling with which Raven was not comfortable. She had to guard herself against this magnificent creature. This creature who thought and acted like the wolf that was so integral to his being.

They were on pause at the moment, though Bo always managed to seduce her back into his arms. Standing over six feet tall, with the proud features of his native ancestry-long, silken hair and obsidian eyes-he was an incredibly hard habit to break.

She directed her comment to Bo. “You tending bar tonight?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I’m helping Sol out for a few hours.”

“Can I come by later?” The words appeared in her mind, an unspoken form of communication that for some reason only Bo and Raven shared. She could never say no to him, no matter how hurt she felt. He was irresistible.

“Hey ya, sweetness,” a familiar voice called from the other side of the bar. It was Bethany Logan, and she wanted Bo’s attention now. Raven watched the redheaded woman and noticed her brown eyes flash to gold for a brief second as warning to Raven. Bethany wanted Bo for her mate. She was the alpha female in their pack. Bethany had had her chance years ago and couldn’t hold onto Bo, but she wasn’t ready to give him up yet.

Raven ignored the childish power play. She knew Bethany would be going home alone, and eventually Bethany would realize it, too.

“Sure,” Raven answered Bo, trying not to look as excited as she felt, grateful for the part of her that hid the sudden blush she felt rise to her cheeks. His full lips spread into a delicious grin. Gods, she hated loving him. In spite of their weeks apart, there remained a connection that refused to be severed.

Raven finished her drink and started to get up.

“You’re leaving,” Adonis said, disappointment written all over his face. “We were just getting to know one another.”

She began to feel the hunger build within her. It was time to go. “Yeah, I’m kinda tired.”

She pulled her claret leather coat off the back of the bar chair, then, like a gentleman, Adonis helped her into it. He gently pulled her waist-length black hair out from the collar. His hands grazed her behind. Raven’s tight leather pants hugged her curves. She noticed Bo watching Adonis’s every move. Raven thought she heard a low rumble erupt from him. She liked to think of Bo as her man. Her warrior.

“Can I take you home?” Adonis asked softly.

Raven’s eyes widened. “I don’t even know your name,” she said, sensing Bo’s watchful stare on her back, feeling the heat of it penetrating inside like invisible fingers. His gaze sent waves of pleasure through her body.

She relished this taste of things to come.

He looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry, you’re right, that was rude. It’s Derrick. My name’s Derrick.”

Raven felt torn. It seemed to be the theme of her entire life: torn between one world and another, one man and another. She’d had other relationships, but Bo was always there in the back of her mind, like a song that refused to stop playing. She wanted stability in her life and, up until now, Bo had been far from stable. To her, Derrick felt grounded, dependable. Raven needed dependable-she craved it like the blood lust.

The wild times of her youth had passed, and now she longed for a life she could nestle into, perhaps even have children someday. Raven had always pictured that life with Bo in it. That would require great patience on her part. He would always be a proud shifter, and when the blood called out to him, he would long to run with the pack. Raven knew how he rejoiced in the feel of the wind gliding across his black fur, the sun beating down, warming the ground beneath him.

He loved the camaraderie of the pack-the same pack that included Bethany. She still had her sights set on raising a family with Bo as well, and she made that crystal clear.

“I’ve got my car,” Raven said. “I’m pretty tired.” Derrick was a tempting morsel of male sexuality.

Derrick smiled. “I’ll walk you to it.” When he put his hand on the small of her back, she felt a jolt. A snap of energy passed between them.

“Goodnight, Solaris, Boo.” Raven turned to look into Bo’s deep sable eyes. “I will see you later.”

“Later,” Bo replied.

As the two stepped outside, the frosty October winds blew across the Atlantic and harshly slapped their faces, a reminder that winter would soon be on its way to Mirabelle Cove, which was situated eight miles off the coast of Massachusetts. The night was clear and crisp with pinpoints of lights in the sky. Some of the trees that had shed their colorful leaves reached skeletal arms to the heavens as if attempting to pluck a few glittering jewels.

At night, one couldn’t appreciate the painted landscape Mother Nature provided this time of year. Once more, in the dark, everything looked grey.

Barn owls screeched in the distance, and kamikaze bats flew across the purple sky. Raven shivered. It wasn’t from the cold. Her hunger was awakening.

“I hope I can see you again. I would’ve wanted to spend more time with you tonight,” Derrick said as they braced themselves against the wind. They stood next to Raven’s car.

In heels, she was five feet seven inches, and Derrick still had at least six inches on her. The cold didn’t affect her much, though she could see Derrick shivering underneath his Irish knit sweater. Expensive taste.

“I’d like that, too,” she admitted to her new acquaintance. There was no doubt she was attracted to him. It had been too long since she’d lain in another man’s arms. It would serve Bo right if I left with this man, after all the times he’s picked up and disappeared.

But she knew in her heart she couldn’t do it.

Derrick shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I know it’s none of my business, but I sensed something between you and the bartender, Bo.”

Hmm. She laughed. “You are psychic.” Her gaze darted away from his intense glare.

His head dipped down. “Am I wrong?” He leaned in as he rested his hands, warm despite the cold, on her shoulders.

Damn, I can’t do this. She wanted to kiss him. Tell him about Bo. Tell him he’s right. Her body raged with the lust for blood and sex. In the middle of the frosty October winds, she fought the attraction. The sound of his heartbeat pulsated in her head. His scent was intoxicating.

The desire would take over soon. She could see the rush of his blood coursing through his veins, almost taste it. She swallowed hard.

He must have sensed that.