Undead Or Alive (Bad Things #3)(19)

That sudden enough for you, baby?

“What’s he doing?” A man’s voice barked out.

Getting my ass stronger, that’s what.

Her hands fluttered against his chest. He kept drinking and the humans around him—they didn’t even try to stop him.

That was the thing with humans. Emotions controlled them too much. Shock, fear. Horror. They didn’t want to believe what they were seeing. And when they finally did believe…it was too late.





Chapter Seven


The ding-ding-ding of a winning slot machine filled the air. Their hotel lobby connected with the nearby casino, and Cass was using that connection to his advantage. He raced through the maze of slot machines and then cleared the blackjack tables. Gregory would need time to heal. The vamp would probably have to find a blood donor, too, so that gave Cass and Amber the lead they needed.

“Wait, dammit, just wait!” Amber dug in her heels.

Growling, he turned back toward her.

“Who was that guy?”

“Gregory.”

She gave a quick little eye roll and muttered, “I got that part. I also got the vamp part.”

“Then you know everything that’s important. And we’ve wasted enough time.” He pulled her forward and they rushed out of the emergency exit. They were in an alley, a dimly lit one, and he saw a motorcycle just waiting a few feet away. He pulled her toward the bike.

“Are you stealing that motorcycle?” Her voice was scandalized—and far too loud.

He looked down at the suitcase he’d lugged all the way from New Orleans. “That item you took from Luke…is it in here?”

Her lips clamped together.

Hell, maybe that was a yes. It was probably a yes. He took out the contents and shoved them into the saddle bags.

“Hey, be careful with that! That’s everything I own!”

Then she didn’t own much. And the thought pissed him off. He tossed away the suitcase and hopped on the motorcycle. Cass tried to figure out exactly how to hotwire it. It had been at least five years since he’d had to hotwire a Harley.

Amber didn’t climb onto the bike with him. She just kept standing there, looking all scandalized. Given their current situation, he didn’t think there was really a need for scandal.

Hello, I’m Death. And you’re surprised that I steal because…? Cass sighed. “Newsflash, sweets. The other ride we were in happened to be stolen, too.”

Her lips formed a little O.

“Now, we need to get our asses out of here. Gregory doesn’t give up easily, and if the guy thinks he can take you, he is sure going to try.”

She pushed his hands out of her way. “Let a professional work.”

A profess—She was trying to hotwire the ride?

Less than thirty seconds later, the bike’s engine growled. She gave him a satisfied smile. “I tinker. It’s my thing.”

That smile…the way her eyes lit up…Gorgeous. She rose and, not even thinking about it—his hand sank into the thickness of her hair. He pulled her head close to his and his lips locked on hers. The kiss was fast, hard, and not nearly deep enough. But that taste of her—that blend of honey and champagne—sent his blood boiling.

Reluctantly, his head lifted. His hand stayed in her hair. “Sorry about the roses,” he rasped. “I’ll get more. More chocolate, too.”

Her eyes widened. Her lips were swollen and red and wet from his kiss. “Will that happen before…or after you turn me over to Luke?”

His jaw locked. “Get on the bike.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” She climbed on behind him. He’d thought that he might need to tell her to hold tight, to urge her to move that delectable body closer to his.

But he didn’t have to tell her anything. Her legs curled behind his, her breasts flattened to his back, and her arms locked around his stomach. “Haul ass, okay?” Amber urged him. “Because I don’t exactly have a good track record with vampires.”

His gloved hands curled around the handlebars. “So…you’re a human who’s managed to behead a vamp and piss off the two most powerful paranormals out there?”

She gave a faint cough. “What can I say? I have talent.”

She had lies. And he didn’t want them. He turned his head so that he could see her beautiful golden eyes. “You will tell me your secrets.”

She smiled at him. “Only in your dreams.”

His jaw locked. “Sweets, you don’t want to know about my dreams.”

“No.” Sadness tinged her voice. “You don’t want to know mine.”

“Give her to me!”

The bellow came from the right.

Cass wasn’t particularly surprised to see Gregory lunging out of the back exit and stalking toward them. Gregory never stayed down long. That was one of the things Cass had admired about the guy—back in the day.

Blood dripped down Gregory’s chin. And he was dragging his back leg—that leg still looked broken.

“Someone’s a fast healer,” she muttered.

When someone had fresh blood, yes, he was. And Cass was betting that blood dripping down Gregory’s mouth had come from a recent victim. “The Lord of the Dark doesn’t like it when paranormals call attention to themselves!” Cass shouted the reminder at Gregory. “So Luke is going to be pissed if you’ve left a trail of bodies in your wake.”