Part 19 (1/2)

”Really. No.”

”You're already bleeding.” The disappointment showed in more than his voice. He'd stopped moving.

I started noticing the icy temperature of his body where it pressed inside me. ”Excuse me if I don't trust you to be satisfied with just a taste.”

Parrish laughed and then kissed my lips hard. He wrapped his arms around my waist tightly, protectively, the way I secretly loved to be held. Into my ear, he grunted, somewhat painfully, ”Garnet, you always leave me wanting more.”

I wanted to continue having s.e.x, but it was clear Parrish's interest had cooled, shall we say. With some effort, we disentangled. The s.p.a.ce between my legs ached with unspent pa.s.sion. Parrish looked deeply pained, but he resolutely lay beside me on the floor, letting our bodies touch. One of his hands roamed the curve of my shoulders. Calloused fingertips trailed along the taut skin over my rib cage, slowly moving toward the mound of my belly. I s.h.i.+vered again, only this time with more heat.

His lips hovered over the tiny puncture wound he'd left on my neck. ”Your beauty is unparalleled, my love,” he whispered in my ear.

It was such a sweet, poetic thing to say. My brain was still fuzzy from the s.e.x, so without thinking I said, ”You're such a big romantic, Parrish. How can you stand to do it for money?”

Parrish looked stricken. I covered my mouth as though to shut the barn door after the horses had gotten out. His jaw twitched as he recovered his composure. He stood up, his eyes locked on mine as though daring me to take in his powerful, magnificent, naked body for a moment. Then he stalked into the kitchen. I heard him rooting around in the refrigerator. ”I'm starving,” he announced.

”Uh, help yourself to anything you find,” I said, pulling myself back up onto the couch, feeling stupid and mean. I hate the way my mouth and brain refused to work together. I hadn't meant to bring it up, especially now that I knew it was true.

I heard bottles clinking.

”I'm sorry,” I said, loud enough to be heard in the kitchen. ”Really sorry, Parrish. It's just... it's not like you, is it? Normally, if you were hard up for cash, you'd knock over a bank or something.”

I heard a small chuckle. ”You can only do that so many times,” he said. ”A smart thief is judicious.”

Locating my sweats.h.i.+rt on the arm of the couch, I pulled it over my head. I waited for Parrish to say more. Around my knees I wrapped the brown-and-white afghan I picked up at an estate sale for fifty cents.

Parrish sauntered back into the living room. He'd helped himself to a super-green smoothie from my fridge, and then joined me on the couch. He threw an arm around my shoulder, like there was no tension between us. Despite myself, I snuggled into it. Parrish's body temperature might be unsatisfactory, but he still had a comforting solidness about him. ”I'm surprised you didn't sell Sebastian's grimoire,” I said.

”I suppose you are,” he said. Peeling off the top, he took a long swallow. He made a face. ”Ugh. This tastes like wet sod.”

”That's because it is. I think the main ingredient is wheatgra.s.s.”

”It's unhealthy,” he said, setting it carefully on the floor.

”You drank it. Aren't you going to get sick?”

”Until the fangs retract, I can eat or drink anything I'd like without major consequences, remember?”

Interesting. I hadn't realized they were still out.

”You could have sold the grimoire to the Order.” I continued, with a glance at the arrow stub in the wall.

”They seem pretty determined.”

Parrish removed his arm from around my shoulder to pick up his leather pants where they lay half under the couch. He stepped into them without standing. ”I didn't contact the Vatican, Garnet. How could I? I know what they are to you.”

”But, if you needed money... ?”

”You think I'd sell you out for the Pope's gold? You must not think very highly of me.”

He stood up to tuck himself in, zip up his fly, and buckle his belt. I knew what I was supposed to say, but our respective positions put me in the wrong frame of mind. I couldn't help but imagine him doing something like this in some dark corner of a sleazy street. ”You'd rather sell your body?”

Parrish put his hand on his narrow hips, looking extraordinarily available and s.e.xy all at the same time.

”It's nothing I haven't done before.”

That surprised me.

When I didn't say anything, he continued. ”The exchange of money for s.e.x is the oldest profession.

People have done it since the dawn of time.”

”People, sure. Butyou ?”

His expression, which had started to grow hard, softened a little. He turned away, his eyes scanning the room as though searching for his s.h.i.+rt. I knew exactly where it was. His tank top was under my leg. I pulled it out and offered it to him like a white truce flag.

”I wouldn't think Madison would be a big enough town for... all that,” I said. ”I mean, you're careful about doing too much thieving to alert the police. Aren't you worried about getting caught?”

He took the s.h.i.+rt from me with a shrug. ”You know the phrase 'Don't do the crime, if you can't do the time?' Armed robbery is a felony. What I do... even if they have a law against it, wouldn't be more than a misdemeanor.” So, it wasn'tprecisely his body he was selling. Even though I still wasn't happy with the situation, things had become infinitely more tolerable. If someone wanted to pay Parrish to bite them, well, that was their problem.

”But... why?”

”The job satisfaction is enormous,” Parrish said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

”No, seriously,” I said. ”It just doesn't seem like you, Parrish.”

He placed a hand over his heart. ”I'm flattered. However, perhaps you would be surprised to discover how difficult it is for a man such as myself to find honest work. I have no letter of introduction, no resume that does not include the words 'highwayman' or 'bank robber,' and an inability to search for employment during the daylight hours.”

I thought about that for a moment. I'd worked third s.h.i.+ft at a twenty-four-hour grocery once, back in college, but I'd had my interview during regular nine-to-five hours. I also got the call to come interview during the day. I could imagine Parrish going through all the trouble to apply for a job, say as a security guard, only to never get the job because the call would come while he slept.

Even if he got the job through some miraculous timing, most places with multiple s.h.i.+fts rotated staff through the various hours so no one would be burdened with always having to work late night. Similarly, it always seemed there were mandatory staff gatherings that would happen during the day. How frustrating to always be off the time zone of the main culture. ”You're probably an illegal alien, too. I'll bet you don't have a social security card or a pa.s.sport.”

”You'd be right.” His tone softened when I didn't give him grief about his current profession. ”I s.h.i.+pped overseas in a cargo hold. The manifest claimed me as a corpse, which was in fact true. I snuck in alongside war dead.” He gave a little shrug at the memory. ”It was the only way to travel back then.”

”Wow. I hadn't really given it much thought. I'll bet there are a lot of things you can't do.”

”I've heard the Internet makes some things a lot easier now. I wouldn't know. I've rarely had a place to call my own, much less the disposable income to purchase a major appliance like a computer.”

”Yeah,” I said. I could relate to that. The only computer I used was the one we had at work. I hated how inaccessible not having one at home made me. To be so cut off from so much culture and opportunity must frustrate the h.e.l.l out of someone like Parrish, who was already an outsider. ”No wonder all the vampires want Sebastian's formula.”

His eyes narrowed, and his voice was clipped with unfiltered anger. ”Yes.”

”Are you being careful?” I asked.

Parrish shut his eyes. His jaw clenched. ”I don't have to be.”

”Yes, you do. I worry about you.”

”Do you? Still?”

”Of course.” I didn't hesitate. I had never entirely gotten over Parrish, and tonight was a testimony tothat. But Sebastian complicated things. Even if I was angry with Sebastian after the whole Feather incident, he was still out there. I'd still have to see him again, one way or another. ”But-”