Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“What the hell?” she snaps, sitting up and taking her purse from me. “You’re trying to rob me?”
“No, I’m trying to get your driver’s license for your address so I can take you home.”
“Oh. I, uh, guess that makes sense. Where are we?” She looks outside, taking in our surroundings, yet still doesn’t look panicked. She’s either overly confident in her powers or is stupid. “Never mind. I recognize this place. We’re about twenty minutes from my house.”
“Where are you going?” I ask as she unbuckles her seat belt. Maybe she’s not so stupid after all.
“I have to pee.”
“Humans are so needy.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her hand at me and gets out of the car. I watch her walk into the gas station, admiring her tight ass before getting out and gassing up the Chevelle. The tank is full and Callie still hasn’t come back out. How long does it take humans to pee?
I go around the car and lean against it, looking into the gas station. Callie is in there, with her back turned to me. A man in dirty jeans and muddy boots stands in front of her, brows furrowed.
Something is wrong.
Tipping my head, I listen for Callie’s heart. Picking out a specific heartbeat amongst a group of humans is a skill nearly all vampires are able to do, but only after they’ve spent a significant amount of time with said human.
I don’t know Callie, and yet I can pick up on her heartbeat and hers alone. She’s scared, and her pulse has increased along with her fear. If that hillbilly asshole so much as laid a finger on her, I’m going to rip his fucking throat out.
Speeding forward, I burst into the gas station and over to Callie. I shove the man away from Callie.
“The fuck?” she spits. “Why’d you do that?”
“I could hear your heart racing. You’re scared.”
“Not of him.” She looks at the man on the floor and her heart beats faster than ever. She blinks and her lips part, as if she’s staring at a ghost.
“Then what the hell is—”
“Wait,” she says and holds out her hand. She narrows her eyes and tips her head, like she’s thinking hard about something. Letting out a sigh, she reaches into her purse and pulls out money, setting it on the counter. “Keep the change,” she tells the cashier, and grabs a water bottle. “Let’s go.”
She starts toward the door, and I turn, drawing my fangs and stare down the man on the floor. I’m not convinced he didn’t do something to Callie. He slinks back and I whirl around, going outside and getting to the car before Callie. I open the door for her and she gets in, heavily sinking onto the seat.
She looks tired and closes her eyes as soon as she sits down. I speed around and get into the driver’s side, firing up the engine.
“What happened in there?”
“Nothing.” She twists the cap off the water and takes a big drink.
“Nothing terrified you?”
“Yeah, it did. I just, uh, drank too much and am not seeing straight.” It’s a lie, and it’s only making me more curious. She recaps her water and points to the road. “Take a left once you pull out.”
I follow her directions and pass a sign welcoming us into town.
“Thorne Hill,” I read. “Interesting name for a town.”
“The woods used to be filled with thorn bushes,” she explains. “Hence the name.”
“What about the hill?”
She gives me a pointed look. “We’re in Indiana. There aren’t many hills here at all.” Her lips pull up into a smile. “Keep going through town.”
The main street in Thorne Hill runs through the downtown. It’s a stereotypical small town, looking like something set in one of those fucking lame Lifetime movies Eliza likes to watch.
“I live on the outskirts of town,” she tells me, eyes falling shut again in a long blink. “We got another ten minutes or so.” Leaning back again, Callie looks like she’s going to fall asleep again.
“That road,” she grumbles a few miles later. “Keep going until you see a brick house with a gravel driveway. Pull all the way in.”
“All the way?” I look at her with raised eyebrows and she responds with making a face. I park in front of her house and get out, going around to her door.
“Shall I walk you in?” I hold out my hand for her to take.
“In? Don’t you mean to my door?”
“Ah, so you’re not as drunk as I thought,” I say with a grin.
“Pathetic. Trying to take advantage of a drunk girl.”
“Trust me. I never have to take advantage of anyone. They give in to me willingly. More than once…if they’re lucky.”
“Please,” she retorts. It’s fun pushing her buttons, and I’ve only just gotten started.
“Lovely little house you have.” Her heels catch on loose gravel as she stumbles up to the front porch. The house is old, a century at least, and is an Italianate style. I remember when this type of house came into fashion. Eliza and I had one built up north and lived in it for fifty years before moving out west.