Daric’s Mate (The Vampire Coalition #5)(4)
Author: J.S. Scott

How could any one man consume this much food? And why was he offering so much money just for delivery?

She shrugged, preparing the massive orders of breadsticks for the oven, reminding herself to add plenty of sauce to the order. She knew the man was eccentric from the information she had gathered over the months. He placed massive orders like this frequently. And he paid. What did it matter why he did it?

Hannah picked up her pace, working as quickly as she could on her battered leg. Mr. Carvillius had not sounded happy on the phone and she had definitely offended him. She needed to move her ass, try to stay in his good graces.

Obviously, the man was bossy, used to getting his own way. He might have reminded her of Mark…but he didn’t. Not in the slightest. Mark was whiny, getting his way by manipulation and guilt. Hannah didn’t think that was really Mr. Carvillius’s style. He sounded like a man who got his way by complete domination rather than manipulation.

God, his voice was sexy.

He had a low, commanding baritone that had sent tingles of heat throughout her entire body, a voice that meant business, expecting to be obeyed whenever he spoke.

He probably looks like a sumo wrestler if he eats like this!

Slamming one of the ovens closed with her hip, she turned and began to start boxing up food. Somehow, she just couldn’t match that voice with the body of a sumo wrestler.

That’s because his voice made your panties wet.

Yeah, his voice was most definitely hot. But it wasn’t just his voice; it was the strength she sensed behind the voice.

Shaking herself slightly, Hannah forced herself to stop fantasizing about her best customer. Seriously, it was ridiculous to read so much into a sexy voice and domineering tone. The man could be an eighty year old bald guy for all she knew.

Smiling, she began to wrap up the order, her mind more at ease as she pictured a large, sweet old man with a husky voice, waiting for his enormous delivery.

Yeah. Better.

It was so much easier to picture Daric Carvillius in a non-threatening way. And so much safer.

Wiping the memory of that compelling voice from her head, she kept her attention on getting the order correct and keeping Mr. Carvillius’s business in the future.

*****

Daric heard the crash over an hour later, the unmistakable sound of twisting metal. He probably shouldn’t have noticed it, wouldn’t have noticed it if he had been human, the howling wind so loud that it drowned out every other sound. But he was vampire, and he had no problem discerning the disturbing noise that filtered through the battering wind.

He’d been cursing the fact that he had actually called someone to drive through the raging blizzard, an epic storm that he had gleaned information about only after turning on the television to wait for his food. Finally, he had concluded that there was no way someone was coming to deliver. He had basically been waiting for a call from Temple’s telling him that they couldn’t fill his order or they just wouldn’t show.

The area had been pounded with snow throughout the day and evening, visibility almost nil.

Barefoot, dressed in nothing more than a ragged pair of jeans, Daric crashed out his front door, letting loose a string of profanities as he plowed down his front porch.

“Fuck!” He waded through waist-deep snow, disparaging himself for not feeding. He was so f**king weak, so depleted. If he had fed, he could have been to the car right now, teleporting himself there in less than a heartbeat.

“I can’t believe someone actually attempted to come way the hell out here. What kind of fool human actually drove the three miles from town to deliver pizza?” he growled, propelling his massive body through the snowdrifts.

Once Daric arrived at his long, winding driveway, the snow was lighter, the wind blowing the powdery flakes toward the accumulations already present in his front yard, forming massive drifts. Still, there was plenty of the white stuff in his driveway, way too much for anyone to be on the roads that were certain to be exactly the same way.

He found the disabled truck in the gully. It looked like the vehicle had slid off his driveway, plunging down about thirty feet head-on into a tree.

Starting the descent on his feet, he ended up on his ass, sliding down the incline until he reached the battered vehicle. He wrenched open the door, hoping the delivery boy was safe, unharmed.

Except, the delivery person was definitely not a boy, and she was out cold. The woman’s head was against the steering wheel, her body unmoving. The truck was old, too ancient to have airbags, and the woman had been virtually unprotected except for her seatbelt, which was securely fastened.

Daric unlatched the belt, examining her quickly, finding a gash on the left side of her head, obviously a head versus window impact.

For the first time in his life, Daric felt like a goddamn human, helpless in his weakness, and the feeling infuriated him. What good was he to this woman in his current condition? He put a hand to her wound, resting his palm lightly on her head, using what pathetically small amount of power he had at the moment to assess the damage.

Pain. Loss. Betrayal. Grief. Sorrow.

Her emotions and memories pounded him, causing him to grit his teeth to try to control the bombardment.

“I f**king hate this,” he growled, furious that he had very little control over himself at the moment, his weakness making him unable to focus his magic only on her injuries.

Relaxing, he let all of her emotions and memories flow over him, stopped trying to fight them. Strangely, her emotions felt familiar. Only hers were more recent, fresher, and much rawer.

After the initial surge ended, Daric closed his eyes, focusing on her brain, trying to find the cause of her unconsciousness. He saw the crash as it happened, her head flying sideways with the impact, cracking against the window. She had a concussion and a tiny bleed in her brain, just enough that it could become serious. Time was not this woman’s friend right now. She needed care.

I brought her out here. I did this to her. I should have called Temple’s again. Told them not to send anyone. I just assumed they wouldn’t after I heard the weather.

Running his hands over her body, he checked for any other life-threatening injuries, running a hand down her spine to make sure she hadn’t suffered any spinal injuries. Humans were so fragile, their lives so finite and short. He didn’t want to do anything that could make her injuries worse.

Smoothing the long, dark hair back from her face, Daric noted that the woman was pretty. And young. Probably no older than her mid-twenties. Shoving his hands under her body, he lifted her from the truck, cradling her against his chest, strangely wanting to protect the fragile, human female after experiencing her sorrow, her loneliness and a barrage of other emotions that made her vulnerable.