Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(3)
I gave him a coy smile, eyeing his juicy cheeseburger. “Why don’t you feed me, big boy? I need something big and juicy in my mouth.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked me up and down, his expression switching from interest to disgust. “Get the fuck out of here, leech.”
Leech. One of the colorful words Breeds used for scavengers like me who had no family, no job, and no dignity. I called it survival.
Strike two.
Discouraged, I kicked the chair in and relocated to the far side of the room where I spotted a Vampire at the end of the bar with the largest plate of golden onion rings I’d ever seen.
Now that’s a sight to behold, I mused.
I assessed his black coat and lace-up boots, which were as worn as mine and told me he wasn’t a man who flaunted his money—if he even had any. His dark brown hair was a little long on top, and despite the short beard that had recently graduated from a five-o’clock shadow, I could see his chiseled cheekbones. He was so unassuming that I almost hadn’t noticed him sitting there.
Vampires often hung out in bars, eavesdropping on conversations with their heightened hearing ability. Some of them worked as secret-sellers and blackmailed people for money, which was probably what this guy was doing. I didn’t trust them, but hunger makes you do desperate things.
“Hi, handsome. Would you like some company?”
He flicked his wrist, waving me away. “Shoo. I’m busy.”
My words became tight, and I flashed him a baleful look. “Maybe you should order a clove of garlic on the side, Vamp.”
As I turned away, he wrapped his fingers around my throat and yanked me against him, my back to his chest. The Vampire’s grip was iron, and I couldn’t escape if I tried.
His breath heated my neck just behind my ear, and he spoke with a dark Irish accent. “Careful who you rub up against, lass. I’m not into parasites, but I’m willing to let it slide for a little action.”
“Keep dreaming.”
He chuckled darkly. “Why don’t you check out where my hand is?” Beneath my dress, he squeezed his fingers, which were resting on my bare hip. One of them slid beneath the thin strap of my panties. “Mmm, lace. I bet they’re as black as your hair, aren’t they?”
I tipped my head back, a smile in my voice. “Why don’t you check out where my hand is?”
He released his hold, and I slowly turned, one of my push daggers pricking his family jewels. They were my favorite weapon to carry. Easy to conceal, they varied in size, I could wear one almost anywhere on my body, and the T-shaped handle provided a solid grip.
I tapped the three-inch blade against his crotch, careful not to look him in the eye so he couldn’t charm me. “You’re lucky you caught me on a good night.”
His wolfish brows drew together. “Unusual set of winkers you’ve got there. Why don’t you raise them up an inch and give me a better look?”
I’d learned early on that Vampires wouldn’t hesitate to use their gifts of persuasion—all they had to do was hypnotize you with those black eyes. I hadn’t inherited that gift, so I got out of dangerous situations by relying on clever tactics.
Like staring at his Adam’s apple.
“You might be stronger than I am, but you’re not as fast as a Mage.”
He casually rested his elbow on the mahogany bar and leaned on it. “I’ll give you a ring if you go away.”
“I don’t want your onion rings, nor do I want your hand up my dress. I’m going to back away, and you’re going to keep your hands where they are. You know the rules about fighting in a Breed bar.”
“Aye, but do I care?”
What incensed me wasn’t his cocksure attitude or even that he’d put his hand up my dress. It was the unexpected thrill of how inviting and sensual his hand felt against my thigh, the slow and delicate way his finger slid beneath my panties, the familiarity of his touch—so much so that I had to calm my heart to a steady beat before he picked up on it.
The Vampire kept his black eyes on me, the intensity of his gaze molten. A shadow of rogue whiskers trailed beneath his jaw as if they were trying to escape the flock.
He looped one of the onion rings around his index finger and offered me a sardonic smile. “Perhaps another time, precious. Good luck with the scavenger hunt.”
Chapter 2
I’m not sure why I’d embraced the life of a nomad, but the novelty was wearing thin. It used to be liberating to go anywhere I wanted and not worry about bills, gas, or rent. Immortals didn’t need to trouble themselves with health insurance or wrinkle creams. But living out of a green duffel bag wasn’t a glamorous life, and neither was washing my clothes in a restroom sink because I didn’t have enough coins to operate a washer.
My human life was ancient history, and without being able to use my real name or social security number, I couldn’t get a job even if I tried. My options were limited to the Breed world, where most people held jobs specific to their skills, and I don’t just mean running a business or managing finances. Most Chitahs I knew were trackers because of their acute sense of smell, and I’d heard that Sensors made their money in the business of sensory exchange—buying and selling emotions for cash. I really didn’t know for certain. Despite our differences from humans, it seemed like most people wanted the same things. A secure future, a job, and—depending on your Breed—family. Even if I applied for a job, no one was going to hire a crossbreed. Most people didn’t think someone like me existed. People are afraid of what they don’t understand, so in order to keep a low profile, I lied about my Breed and didn’t make friends.