Dark Taste of Rapture
Dark Taste of Rapture (Alien Huntress #6)(70)
Author: Gena Showalter
An intriguing—if disturbing—thought. “I will.” And that was the God’s honest truth. He’d practice. For however long was necessary.
Would Noelle want him, though?
Would she wait for him?
“I did some digging,” he said. “She used to date him, you know. More than date him. Live with him.”
“Who, the waitress? Who’d she date?”
Another lethal scowl pinned his friend in place. “Will you keep up? Noelle. She used to live with Corban Blue. For a year. Twelve goddamn months, and that’s all that was documented. So they could have been seeing each other long before they were ever caught by the media. And they could be alone right now. Together. Talking about their baby.”
“You mean their babies. Plural. Word is, now she’s having twins.”
Hector jumped up and pounded the tabletop, ratting glasses, steam rising from the gloves. Calm down. Now.
Dallas held up his hands, palms out. “My bad, dude. They’re only having the one kid.”
“Not his baby. Mine.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure. The imaginary baby is yours. Continue.”
He did, just kind of falling back into his chair. “I’m nothing like him.” Deep breath in, deep breath out. Gradually the steam dissipated. “I’m not polished, rich, or cuddly. I’ll embarrass her, I know I will.”
After tossing back two shots of his own, Dallas choked out, “Backtrack a minute. You think Corban Blue is cuddly? The guy’s lean, true, but he’s taller than you are. And I felt the energy kicking off him. Powerful energy. Stronger than Kyrin’s, even.”
There was no telling what kind of abilities Corban possessed. Because, if Kyrin could control humans with his mind, move faster than a determined vampire, and teleport, Corban could certainly do that and a whole lot more.
He’d be the perfect one to test the shields in Bobby Marks’s house. If he was still alive in the morning.
“He can touch her without worry,” Hector groused. “I think I’m going to break his throwing arm into four pieces. That way, he won’t be able to touch her or a ball.”
Hector couldn’t have her—yet—but he wasn’t going to let anyone else have her, either, he decided. Whether she still wanted him or not. Whether she would wait for him or not. He’d make her wait.
Maybe that was the alcohol talking. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. She’s mine.
Dallas tried to change the subject. “So any luck with the sketches? Any possible matches in the database?”
“She was supposed to have dinner with me tonight,” he plowed on, anger morphing into irritation—with her. “But did she call to cancel? No. Is she answering my calls? No. She just stood me up without a f**king apology.”
So what that he’d done the same thing to her this morning. So what that he’d told her they were done. She had better manners than he did.
“I did some digging of my own, just like you asked,” Dallas continued, “and you’ll be highly interested to know—”
“The fact that she just accepted my dismissal without a fight is telling, you know?” Pound, pound, pound—metal creaking as it bent. “Does she think I know how to handle this kind of thing? A relationship, intimacy, acceptance, and rejection, all in one day? Well, I don’t.”
“—that a few months ago, a businessman went missing—”
“Maybe she doesn’t want anything from me anymore. Maybe I was a good time, only good enough until someone better came along. Someone more suitable. And now that someone has. Corban Fucking Blue.”
“—just up and disappeared, though he left a note behind. Something about taking off to find himself—”
Hector laughed, but it was an ugly sound. “If she’s not going to wait for me, I need her to tell me so that I can start with the forcing. Think I’ll begin by killing everyone with a penis.”
“—but he’s never written another letter, never contacted anyone else and there were also several businessmen who committed suicide supposedly, though their families—”
“Fuck this,” Hector growled. He drained another shot, and then his beer. “I’m going to her house.” He was on his feet a second later, the table teetering, falling with a crash. “We’re going to chat. She’s always telling me I need to trust her, I need to open up to her. Well, she’s getting her wish and she better like it.”
After grabbing for the napkin with the redhead’s phone number, Dallas joined him. “I’ll drive you. Noelle might decide to kick your ass, and after my huge sacrifice, I deserve a little entertainment.”
To kick his ass, she’d have to put her hands on him. Hector was totally okay with that.
Dallas laughed. “I wonder if she had any idea what she’d signed up for when she’d picked you.”
They strode outside, the cool night air wafting between them. Full parking lot. Vehicles in his damn way. “What does that mean? I’m a fine choice.” Never mind that he’d said he wasn’t.
“You’re like a caged bear. A cage she’s somehow opened. Now the bear is on the loose and hungry. If she isn’t careful, she’s going to be the meal.”
I want her to be the meal.
“I realize now that you’ve always kept a part of yourself on a tight leash wrapped in an iron fist,” Dallas said. “Noelle has done what no one else has been able and destroyed the leash. Poor girl.”
When they reached their car, Hector claimed the driver’s side. He punched the coordinates for Noelle’s address, and the thing eased itself into motion, out of the parking lot and onto the road. More civilians than usual were out this time of night, and he felt like someone was watching him.
Ten minutes in, he was seventy-five percent sure that someone was following him. He disabled autopilot, a steering wheel rising from the car’s front console. Pedals popped up on the floorboard.
“What’s doing?” Dallas asked, confused. “Think we’ve got a tail.”
Yeah, he was quite possibly drunk, but other cars were on autopilot and wouldn’t hit him no matter where he swerved. He purposely made some wrong turns, doubled back, circled a few other parking lots, and worked his way behind the vehicle in question. A dark sedan, windows tinted to black, like a thousand others he’d seen on the streets.
“Phone in the plates,” he said.