The Dead (The Thaumaturge Series Book 1) by Cal Matthews Page B

Marcus, giving me his phone number. I thought of Corvin, watching me from across the street, his smirking face. “Maybe. I don’t know,” I said, getting flustered.
    “I'd like to meet these witches.”
    “Why do you think they are here? Is it because of me?”
    “I don't know. But I really don't like it.”
    “Why?” I said. “Is this your territory?”
    “Yes,” he said bluntly. “Do you want to go to bed? I'd kinda like to fuck you before I head back out tonight.”
    The words hit me like a slap and I recoiled from him. “Fuck off, Leo.”
    His eyes shifted, the golden glow returning, and I felt a wing of uncertainty brush my stomach when he didn't move or respond.
    “Leo,” I said harshly, and he gave a jerk.
    “Sorry,” he said again. “God, sorry, Ebron. It's just that smell .”
    He moved forward again, sliding towards me and though I hadn't been afraid of him in years, there was something predatory and completely inhuman about him right then that made my heart speed up.
    “Stop,” I said, hearing panic in my own voice.
    “I just want to smell you . . .” he murmured, coming closer. To my shock and utter horror, he snarled, fangs out as he lunged towards me.
    I hit him as hard as I could, slamming my fist into his throat. The contact stopped him, but only just. He gagged and made a strangled choking noise, his hands flying to his neck. I took the opportunity to fly off the couch, grabbing the gun again and raising it up to my shoulder. It wasn't loaded, but it made me feel a whole lot better.
    He coughed and sputtered, tears streaming down his face, and after a moment I realized he was laughing helplessly in between coughing fits. His eyes met mine and even through the tears I could see that he was himself again. He waved at me, pointing towards my bedroom. I stiffened, but he shook his head.
    “Go . . . take . . . shower,” he grated out, and I backed away, still holding the gun. Whistling to Johnny, who had retreated to his crate, I walked backwards to my bedroom, and locked the door when I got there. Feeling like I was in a fog, I stripped on my way into my bathroom, and turned the shower on. I scrubbed as hard as I could stand it, standing in water that felt like it would burn the flesh right off me. It took me a while to stop shaking.
    Leo was lying on my bed when I came out of the shower, pink and raw, clad only in a towel. I jumped at the sight of him, and glanced at the door. It had been locked.
    He put up his hands. “It's okay,” he said soothingly. “I'm fine now.”
    “What the hell was that?”
    “I don't know. You just - I couldn't - I mean, I knew it was you, and I didn't want to hurt you, but I couldn't think past that smell.”
    “Did they, like, put a spell on me?” I asked, gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed but keeping one eye on the suddenly unpredictable vampire.
    “I . . . I think that they might have, Ebron. What did they say to you?”
    “Nothing! I mean, nothing more than polite conversation about herbs. Yesterday they came in, gave me a list, and I got them for them. Today one of them came back for some more mugwort.”
    “Nothing else?”
    “No,” I lied, willing my eyes not to slide away from his. I thought about Marcus’s pretty eyes. About the phone number still sitting on the counter at the store.
    “Hmm.” he laced his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “I've never experienced something like that before. Literally, all I could think about was killing you and fucking you. Simultaneously.”
    “Isn't that what you always think about?” I attempted hesitantly, and he turned his head to smile faintly at me.
    “Yeah, good point. But not like that.”
    “Do the witches know about you, then?” I asked. “Is that the point? Why try to get you to attack me? Or, I guess they must know about me?”
    “I don't know. I don't know.” he held out a hand to me, and I crawled over to him, stretching my long body out beside him,