Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(9)

Without a word, he reached under the counter and then handed me a pink box. “Just as you ordered. Thank you for paying us in advance; we’re more than happy to have it ready for you,” he said with a wink. Seconds later, he disappeared into the back room.

A little mystified, I turned away with the small box and stood by the door.

“Excuse me,” someone said.

I glanced up and stepped aside as the attractive man, who moments ago had been eating a chocolate éclair, was on his way out. I noticed his blond hair had dark roots, and he styled it in the disheveled manner that was the popular trend. When he smiled, it created grooves on both sides of his face.

“Don’t get wet out there,” I said with a chuckle.

“Says the girl without an umbrella.” He turned around to open the door with his back. “Maybe I should wear a plastic bag over my head,” he said playfully.

“Maybe.”

His gaze lingered on my mismatched eyes and made me uncomfortable. People couldn’t help themselves. I stared at his black ear studs in a half-assed attempt to find something wrong with him, but all he did was smile wider and then disappear into the rain.

Humans were becoming so peculiar to me, and it had only been five years since I’d been turned.

Now that I had privacy, I lifted the lid of my box, uncertain of what to expect. A key? A flash drive? A secret device? A pistol?

Beneath the wax paper was a lemon bar lightly dusted with powdered sugar.

I broke it into three pieces, searching inside for a folded-up piece of paper or… I don’t know. What was I looking for? There wasn’t anything underneath the bottom sheet of paper either. What the hell was I doing? Mr. Kazan must have been the kind of guy who sought amusement from messing with people’s heads.

I threw the box into the trash and stormed out into the rain. As I crossed the street, my right boot landed in a deep puddle of water just before I stepped onto the curb.

“Swell,” I muttered, my sock turning into a sponge.

A black Honda screeched to a halt, and the engine revved twice, as if screaming for my attention. When I approached the car, the window rolled down.

“Get in. I’ll take you to Viktor.”

I bent down and peered in at the profile of a man in a long black trench coat. The window rolled up, so I lifted the handle and opened the door.

He leaned over and looked up at me. “Your place or mine?”

“Well, my place is outside, so you decide.”

I hugged my duffel and sank into the seat, squeaking against the leather as I reached to shut the door.

I felt him staring at me, so I peered over at him.

He pushed his dark shades farther up his nose. “If I’d known that I’d be picking up the ocean, I would have brought a sponge.”

I suddenly recognized the lilt in his voice. The way he spoke had the lyrical swing that was typical of the Irish, but his voice was dark, gritty, and full of attitude.

He dropped his foot on the gas pedal, and my head flung back. I wrapped the seat belt around me and gave him an intolerant glare.

“I know you,” I said, my mind working overtime trying to place him. It took me a minute because I ran into so many people on a daily basis. “Yes, I remember you now. You’re the asshole with the onion rings.”

He raised his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Aye. And you’re the leech with the lacy knickers.” His eyes flicked down to my lap. “Where’s my lemon bar?”

I chortled. “So that’s what the pink box was about. Sorry, but I don’t like lemon bars. I threw it away.”

He squeezed the steering wheel. “Jaysus wept. I think Viktor has finally lost his marbles.”

I was having second thoughts when I realized that this guy worked for Viktor. Maybe he was just the chauffeur.

The scenery flew by—people rushing through the rain with newspapers covering their heads, a paper cup floating down the sewage drain, windows fogged over in most of the eateries. Cognito was quite a magnificent northeastern city, even at its ugliest.

The Vampire put on his turn signal and made a right. “There’s a burger place just up the street. Viktor won’t mind.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He turned his head all the way to face me. “It’s eleven in the morning, scavenger, and your stomach is louder than my engine.”

I chuckled. “A Vampire with a Honda. You made my day.”

He snapped his attention back to the road, his voice clipped. “It’s unassuming.”

“Buy all the burgers you want, but I won’t eat them.” No way was I giving him the satisfaction.

“You must be a Shifter—stubborn and brassy.”

With lightning speed, I whipped out a push dagger attached to my belt and held it against his whiskery jaw. “And you need a shave. Be sure to watch out for those speed bumps,” I added, scraping the knife at an upward angle. “No more insults, or I’ll cut you up into little pieces and ship you back to Ireland.”

He slammed the brakes, and I flew forward, jerked to a stop by my seat belt. The Vampire disarmed me and clamped the back of my neck with an iron grip. “Let’s keep the sharp weapons tucked away, shall we? Besides, a woman like you doesn’t need a dagger. You have a tongue that could clip a hedge.”

He reached for the blade that had fallen on the floorboard and released his hold. “And don’t litter in my car. I never did like a litterbug.”