To Catch a Vampire by Jennifer Harlow Read Free Book Online Page B

stands in the hallway holding a coffee thermos and wine glass. “Blood,” she says. “O positive.”
    “Human?” I ask, taking the goods.
    “Of course. Have a nice night.” She walks away.
    I shut the door, holding human blood. I know Oliver usually drinks pig blood (I asked), and I’ve only seen him once after trying the human variety. It was not a pretty sight. Black eyes, torn flesh, fun scar on my neck. Don’t want a repeat. I set the thermos on the desk as the coffin thumps again. Suddenly, hot space pirates aren’t that interesting. I can’t take my eyes off the coffin.
    There are two clicks inside it. Using the remote, I lower the black window slats to snuff out the remaining light from outside. Even the slightest sliver of UV light can light up a vamp like a brush fire during the Santa Anas. “It’s safe to come out now,” I say, when the last of the light disappears.
    The lid lifts. Huh, I was wrong. I thought for sure red satin lining, not white silk. Of course, the boxers he’s sporting—and nothing else—are red. I can’t help myself, I take him all in. His skin’s almost the color of the lining. I’ve never seen him this pale before, with dozens of soft blue veins cascading and crisscrossing all over his body. It makes him look … vulnerable. It doesn’t help that his skin is drawn across his face like a bad face-lift with sunken-in eyes to boot. A corpse. He looks like a corpse.
    His gray eyes fly open, darting immediately to me. He blinks a few times to focus. “Blood,” he croaks.
    I leap up, wanting to get away from him. I grab the thermos, twist off the cap, and hand it to him. He snatches it out of my hand, gulping down the blood, Adam’s apple bobbing. The red liquid drips from both sides of his mouth, landing on his muscular torso. I watch as the veins fade away and the pink returns to his skin. Even his brown hair revitalizes, gaining back its shampoo commercial volume and shine. The thermos leaves his lips, and he wipes the blood off his chin, smudging it. “Will you please get me a wet towel? I made a mess of myself.”
    I do as he asks, returning as he steps out of the coffin. “Thank you,” he says, taking the towel. I watch with my mouth half open as he wipes his broad chest. Hello . The memory of the last minute fades from memory. As he moves, his muscles become taut. I don’t know much about his life before becoming a vamp, but Irie told me he was a farmer somewhere in England. I believe it. He’s muscle bound, but not in that scary way popular with Hollywood. He just has the outline of a six-pack and pecs, with well-toned arms, and only the beginnings of love handles. I’ve seen him shirtless before, but I’ve never taken him all in like this. Okay, I’m lying. Every time he has his shirt off I check him out. I can’t not. Like all the other times, my whole body heats up from the inside. Oliver notices me and raises an eyebrow. “Do you enjoy what you see?”
    I snap out of it. “You are such a jerk,” is the best I can come up with. “And you’re a messy eater.”
    “Dying does that to me, my dear.”
    “Whatever. Put some clothes on, please. You’re not at home alone, okay?”
    “We are a couple, darling. We should at least act as if we have seen each other in a state of undress.”
    “We’re alone. Put. Some. Clothes. On.” I glare, but he smiles. He doesn’t move. “Look, I’m tired, hung over, weirded out, and royally peeved at you right now. If I have to, I will push you out the window and watch you fry! Now, get dressed!”
    Grin Number Three disappears. “As you wish.”
    I plop back into my chair, pretending to watch the movie while Oliver selects his clothes. Without a word, he retreats to the bathroom, shutting the door. Well, he wanted to be a married couple.
    Water runs, I think teeth are brushed, and mouth wash is gargled. I didn’t know vamps brushed their teeth. He’s in there long enough for me to finish dinner and the movie. He