The Nightlife San Antonio: (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series) by Travis Luedke
Authors: Travis Luedke
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don’t know nothing about no dead bodies in the alley. And if you know what’s good for you, that’s exactly what you’ll say if anyone ever asks.”
* * * *
Chapter 12
Waking up to a cold , empty bed was not her idea of fun. “Adrian, this is not the deal I made.” She called his name several more times. The silence confirmed what she had already sensed. The apartment was empty.
Where was her personal bodyguard and bloodslave? He was supposed to be here, for her, when she needed him, when she was hungry, when she wanted a warm body to keep her safe and help find the answers to her missing life. No note on the refrigerator, no sign of where he went or when he would return. She prowled his apartment, alone again, with no answers, and enemies she couldn’t even remember. Her stomach growled in gnawing, churning hunger.
Standing in front of an open refrigerator full of food she couldn’t eat, she felt hungry enough to drain a man dry. She sniffed at herself. “Ugh, I smell like Adrian, and sex.” Shower time.
Un der the steaming hot water, she used the only soap she could find, man-scent shampoo-body wash. She still ended up smelling like him. At least she was clean. Her stomach rumbled and her teeth dropped down, sharp and ready to munch on someone.
She toweled off and used his toothbrush and toothpaste, pretty much used whatever he h ad. It was glaringly obvious the man had never lived with a woman. He didn’t own any lotion, no hairspray, no styling gel, no conditioner, no face-wash, not one thing a woman wants or needs in a bathroom. His closet proved the same. Nothing but extra-large shirts and jeans three sizes too big for her. Her selection became a lesser of evils. The oversized t-shirt that barely covered her ass, or the way oversized button down shirt that fit so loose she might as well wrap herself in a bed sheet.
She went for the button down, and h ad to roll the sleeves back three times just to get it to her wrists. The guy had to be over six feet tall with a whole lot more reach than she had. She tried on a couple pairs of his boxer shorts, but they kept falling off her slender hips. In the end, she went for an old pair of tighty-whitey cotton briefs. Nothing else fit her thin frame.
Run a belt around this monster shirt and she could have pulled off the Stevie Nicks 80’s look. 80’s? How old am I? How do I know what the hell they wore in the 80’s? Things just popped into her mind, seemingly from nowhere, and it never ceased to aggravate her.
How can she know things, and yet not know anything about herself?
She sensed Adrian at the door before she heard him. Yep, they were definitely bonded, no question about it. She dreaded explaining it to him, explaining why she did it without asking, without warning. Her survival had depended on claiming Adrian as her own.
Unable to wait another second, she flew to the door and opened it just as Adrian was reaching for the knob. “Where have you been? I’m going nuts in here by myself.” She wrapped her arms around him , savoring the wonderful scent of her man.
“Hey there , friendly.” His arm slipped around her.
She caught a touch of anxiety in his voice and looked up to find the redneck neighbor she had seen the other night, with the blond mullet haircut and a heavy Texas drawl.
“Oh, hi.”
Adrian’s sweaty chest against her face, she tried not to show any fang when she smiled at the neighbor.
He grinned back at her, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “Well look at that. I had no idea you were keeping this little beauty tucked away. And wearing your shirt too.” His head tilted down to catch a better look at her bare legs. “Now ain’t that something.”
Adrian stepped in, dragging her along under his arm, pulling her away from the other man. “Later , Crenshaw. The lady requires attention.”
He was trying t o make light, but she sensed tension underlying his every move, and it put her on
* * * *
Chapter 12
Waking up to a cold , empty bed was not her idea of fun. “Adrian, this is not the deal I made.” She called his name several more times. The silence confirmed what she had already sensed. The apartment was empty.
Where was her personal bodyguard and bloodslave? He was supposed to be here, for her, when she needed him, when she was hungry, when she wanted a warm body to keep her safe and help find the answers to her missing life. No note on the refrigerator, no sign of where he went or when he would return. She prowled his apartment, alone again, with no answers, and enemies she couldn’t even remember. Her stomach growled in gnawing, churning hunger.
Standing in front of an open refrigerator full of food she couldn’t eat, she felt hungry enough to drain a man dry. She sniffed at herself. “Ugh, I smell like Adrian, and sex.” Shower time.
Un der the steaming hot water, she used the only soap she could find, man-scent shampoo-body wash. She still ended up smelling like him. At least she was clean. Her stomach rumbled and her teeth dropped down, sharp and ready to munch on someone.
She toweled off and used his toothbrush and toothpaste, pretty much used whatever he h ad. It was glaringly obvious the man had never lived with a woman. He didn’t own any lotion, no hairspray, no styling gel, no conditioner, no face-wash, not one thing a woman wants or needs in a bathroom. His closet proved the same. Nothing but extra-large shirts and jeans three sizes too big for her. Her selection became a lesser of evils. The oversized t-shirt that barely covered her ass, or the way oversized button down shirt that fit so loose she might as well wrap herself in a bed sheet.
She went for the button down, and h ad to roll the sleeves back three times just to get it to her wrists. The guy had to be over six feet tall with a whole lot more reach than she had. She tried on a couple pairs of his boxer shorts, but they kept falling off her slender hips. In the end, she went for an old pair of tighty-whitey cotton briefs. Nothing else fit her thin frame.
Run a belt around this monster shirt and she could have pulled off the Stevie Nicks 80’s look. 80’s? How old am I? How do I know what the hell they wore in the 80’s? Things just popped into her mind, seemingly from nowhere, and it never ceased to aggravate her.
How can she know things, and yet not know anything about herself?
She sensed Adrian at the door before she heard him. Yep, they were definitely bonded, no question about it. She dreaded explaining it to him, explaining why she did it without asking, without warning. Her survival had depended on claiming Adrian as her own.
Unable to wait another second, she flew to the door and opened it just as Adrian was reaching for the knob. “Where have you been? I’m going nuts in here by myself.” She wrapped her arms around him , savoring the wonderful scent of her man.
“Hey there , friendly.” His arm slipped around her.
She caught a touch of anxiety in his voice and looked up to find the redneck neighbor she had seen the other night, with the blond mullet haircut and a heavy Texas drawl.
“Oh, hi.”
Adrian’s sweaty chest against her face, she tried not to show any fang when she smiled at the neighbor.
He grinned back at her, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “Well look at that. I had no idea you were keeping this little beauty tucked away. And wearing your shirt too.” His head tilted down to catch a better look at her bare legs. “Now ain’t that something.”
Adrian stepped in, dragging her along under his arm, pulling her away from the other man. “Later , Crenshaw. The lady requires attention.”
He was trying t o make light, but she sensed tension underlying his every move, and it put her on
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