Dying to Date Read online

  “We need to stop soon,” Tarian said. “You might have fed last night but I’m going to need a real meal to refuel. There are only so many power bars one can eat.”

  The reminder of her last meal brought a blush to her cheeks. When she’d opened her eyes after her day’s sleep, the memory of her ill-fated make out session had been burned in her mind. She’d actually dreaded pulling off the cover that had kept her safe from the sun.

  But when she had, Tarian had greeted her with a smile and the suggestion that they get on the road as quickly as possible.

  She turned to glance at her companion. Other men might have been put out that she’d started something she couldn’t finish, but not Tarian. Did nothing rattle the man?

  “There are lights up ahead,” she said, instead of the prying questions she wanted to ask. “Maybe there’ll be somewhere to stop.”

  “I’d kill for a burger.” He shot her a wide grin. “Gotta keep my iron up.”

  Which meant he wasn’t opposed to feeding her again. A wave of relief washed over her. Not that she couldn’t survive a few days of hunger until they reached home. Still, some part of her relaxed to hear he didn’t regret an act that was as vital to her as breathing was to him.

  The small town grew on the horizon, and she hoped there’d be somewhere to stop. It might lengthen their travel time, but keeping her partner healthy helped both of them in the long run.

  “Ye old timey diner,” he pointed out, maneuvering the car into the small parking lot. “Looks decent enough for a quick bite.”

  “Fine by me,” she agreed.

  The truck stop looked like it’d been modeled after a fifties diner. Or perhaps it simply hadn’t been updated in decades. Either way, they found a spot to sit in one red vinyl booth. A ragged looking waitress came up to them immediately with two menus and two waters.

  “You two are out late,” she commented.

  “Road trip,” Tarian replied. “I’ll take as big a cup of coffee as you can muster up and an equally large burger. Rare.”

  “Coming right up.” She turned to Melissa. “And for you?”

  “Not hungry,” she replied, holding out her menu.

  “Need some meat on those bones, sugar,” the waitress said as she took the menus and walked away.

  Melissa sighed. The woman wasn’t wrong. She’d grown up in a time that had valued more voluptuous figures and had always thought it was a far healthier alternative to the current model craze. Her vampirism, however, kept her from ever achieving the more womanly figure she admired.

  “I think you’re perfect,” Tarian commented as he sipped his water.

  The words brought a smile to her face even as they sent a shiver down her spine. “You’re biased, since you’re trying to keep me in a good mood so I don’t desert you.”

  “Believe what you wish.” He leaned back against the booth with a tired sigh.

  “I’ll drive the next leg,” she offered. “It’ll be hours before exhaustion catches up with me.”

  “Deal.”

  The waitress hustled back with his coffee, and Tarian groaned in pleasure when he tasted the hot beverage.

  “Life got a whole lot easier after this drink was invented,” he said, inhaling the aroma with closed eyes.

  Melissa blinked. He was older than coffee? Racking her brain, she tried to remember when coffee had come into vogue. Certainly by her time it was a standard in many homes.

  When she’d met Tarian in Fated Match’s reception room she’d assumed they were of similar age. A careless mistake on her part. An immortal’s appearance didn’t necessarily correlate to their chronological years. Strength, however, grew with the passage of time. If he was old, then he’d be a strong opponent against any foe. Perhaps even her father.

  “I can hear you worrying,” he said, not bothering to open his eyes.

  Melissa was used to hearing the heartbeat of those around her and noting when it raced with excitement or shuddered in fear. That someone else could read her body’s changes in the same way unnerved her.

  “Looking forward to getting home,” she replied.

  “Nope. Not it.” His blue eyes flickered open. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  She debated asking her questions. They had a decent enough truce going. More than decently, really, considering the activities of last night. Prying into his past could change that.

  Or worse, it could cause her to become even more infatuated with the damn necromancer than she already was.

  “I was wondering about you,” she answered, meeting his gaze.

  Tarian tilted his head. “I told you, there isn’t much to tell.”

  “Such lies,” she murmured.

  He set his cup down before giving her his full attention. “If you want to delve into my past, Melissa, I’ll be demanding quid pro quo.”

  Her mother’s face flashed across her mind. Tarian might be on her side right now but who knew what the future held? Giving him more ammunition against her could be a mistake.

  Curiosity killed the cat, she thought. Then again, maybe the cat had died happy.

  “Where were you before America?” she asked.

  “Europe.”

  “And when exactly did coffee come to Europe?”

  A tiny smile twisted his lips. “My history is a little rusty, but I believe a pope in the 1600’s is to thank for its rise in popularity.”

  Her nails gouged into the vinyl beneath her. That definitely beat her single century.

  “Were you young when coffee changed the mornings of Europeans across the continent?”

  He held her gaze. “No.”

  Melissa licked her lips as she contemplated her next question. “Did you fight in the necromancer wars?”

  This time he wasn’t so forthcoming. His fingers tapped against the laminate tabletop. “Are you sure you want to know, Melissa?”

  She swallowed. If he had, then he was old. Not a few hundred years, give or take, but really, really old. According to her history books, the wars had raged across Eastern Europe in the early fourteenth century. If he’d been a part of them, that not only meant he was a strong warrior, but he was qualified to be an elder, if necromancers had one.

  “I want to know,” she said.

  Tarian inclined his head. “I was only a few decades old when I fought in the wars with my father.”

  She exhaled out of habit. “Well, hell. I always did have a thing for older men.”

  The waitress arrived with Tarian’s burger, and Melissa welcomed the respite. Her father had battled the necromancers. The idea that the two men currently most important in her life could have met years before she was even born made her head hurt.

  “You must have hated us,” she said.

  Tarian’s eyes flicked to her before he turned his attention back to his meal. “Yes,” he agreed. “For many years.”

  And now? But she couldn’t voice the question fearing what the answer would be.

  “Before I came into your life, had you ever met a necromancer?”

  She ran her nail along the chrome lining of the table as she contemplated owing him her own answers about the past. “No,” she breathed.

  Lucian had been very careful to keep her protected when she was younger, and by the time she’d grown, the modern world had exploded. Necromancers had been pushed further and further back into the less populated areas of the country.

  “But you feared us.”

  “Given the history it’s only natural that—”

  “Yes or no, Melissa.”

  “Yes,” she said, lifting her eyes to his.

  “Because you were taught we were evil, without ever having the chance to form your own opinion. Can you imagine what it’s like growing up as a necromancer child?” He took a bite of his burger.

  “You can’t blame us for fearing creatures who can command us like puppet masters.”

  “Perhaps not,” he replied. “But I can blame you for turning the rest of the supernatura
l world against us. Our powers only work on the death races, and yet even living, flesh and blood immortals fear us. Against a werewolf I’d be almost as useless as a human.” Tarian pointed a french fry at her. “The fact of the matter is, vampires rule our world, and your prejudice became everyone’s prejudice. We never had a chance.”

  “The necromancers haven’t exactly been a peaceful race,” she said. “That I’m sitting in this diner is proof of that.”

  “Where did being peaceful ever get us?” he asked. “Whether we behaved or not, we were condemned.”

  Melissa turned away from him, not liking the uncomfortable doubt worming its way into her mind. She remembered the child at Dominic’s ranch and the sad resignation in her eyes. Had the vampires been too zealous in their effort to protect themselves?

  “Preaching world peace, are you?” she asked.

  A sardonic smile twisted his lips. “We’ve spent days together without any mortal injury. Surely that proves our two kinds can coexist.”

  “You’re quite the idealist to have been caught up fighting wars.”

  A bleak hopelessness shuttered his eyes. “It took me many centuries to come to my beliefs,” he said. “When the wars were fought, I thought the only way we could survive was to eradicate your people.”

  A beat of silence passed as she pondered his words. Giving in to the urge to ask her most pressing question, Melissa leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. “Why did you pursue me?”

  Tarian blinked. “What?”

  “You wouldn’t tell me before. Tell me now.”

  No expression passed over his face as he regarded her in silence.

  “I bullied Abbey into setting up our date, but for it to work, you had to agree,” she continued. “You knew who I was. Hell, even if you hadn’t recognized me, you’re as old as the hills. You’d have been able to sense me the second you walked through the doors. So why did we ever end up at Celeste’s?”

  He polished off the last of his burger as she wondered whether he’d yield this time. When they’d first started this trip he’d been right—she wouldn’t have believed a word he said. But now… She didn’t know when things had changed, but they had. Whatever answer he gave, good or bad, she’d believe it.

  “I knew there’d be complications,” he said.

  “But you did it anyway.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Pushing his plate away, he met her steady gaze. “Because I was serious when I said I wanted to find my mate, and I have never, not once in nearly seven hundred years, reacted to a woman the way I did to you.”

  Her jaw dropped. Her heart clenched. He hadn’t meant his words the way they’d sounded. Couldn’t possibly.

  But hadn’t she felt the exact same way when they’d first locked eyes across the pink-and-white waiting room?

  “There has never been a vampire-necromancer pairing,” she whispered.

  “Because it isn’t possible, or because there was never an opportunity?” he asked. “We could check the Fated Match website right now, and I guarantee the number of necromancers signed up would be less than a handful. Hard to mingle when every other race runs at the mere sight of you.”

  “What are you saying, Tarian? We were meant to be?”

  The pause before he responded was the longest moment of her hundred years. Part of her hoped he scoffed at the notion just as she had. A deeper, more secret part, however, waited for a different outcome.

  “No,” he said at last. “My mate will never abhor me. I was attracted to you, still am, but you’re not the woman I’ve waited lifetimes to find.”

  I’m not bleeding, she told herself. His words don’t affect me. But his denial that she could ever be more to him than a bedmate cut her in ways she hadn’t thought possible. She’d rather face a brush with the sun than the absolute certainty in his eyes.

  My luck strikes again. Perfect man, imperfect circumstances.

  “Good,” she said, lifting her chin so he’d never know how his confession pained her. “I feel exactly the same. Obviously our flirtation in New York was ill conceived.”

  “It seems we agree on something at last.” He waved at the waitress to bring the bill.

  Melissa gazed out the dark window by her side. It didn’t matter what he said or what he believed. All that mattered was getting home. That was her end goal. Not roping Tarian into her life along the way. It was good that they’d dispelled any lingering doubts she’d had. It wasn’t like she’d been hoping for some star-crossed happily ever after with the man. Had she?

  “Thank you,” she said, not looking at him.

  Tarian turned to her, passing cash to the waitress as he did. “What?”

  “I know you came for me in order to help your people, not mine. You might even have come because you thought I was…important to you. It doesn’t matter. Whatever your reasons, thank you. For saving me.”

  He sat in silence for a long moment before replying. “I have many regrets in my life.”

  Melissa closed her eyes as she waited for his next words. Surely he’d add helping her to the list. The ungrateful vampire heiress who couldn’t look past her own prejudice, even when her life depended on it.

  “Rescuing you is not one of them.”

  She turned to him then. There was nothing pleasant in his expression. No joy, no hint of hope. He knew as well as she did that no matter what became of their romance on this road trip, it wouldn’t last past the city limits.

  A relationship with an expiration date, she thought. No matter what choices you make on the road, they won’t follow you home. Two more nights and you’ll be safe in your own bed. Won’t you regret not knowing what it felt like to be Tarian’s, even if only for a night?

  “Here’s your change, sugar,” the waitress interrupted, setting the receipt back onto the table.

  “Thank you,” Tarian said, breaking eye contact with Melissa.

  She mentally shook her head. When she pushed from the red booth she was back to her normal self. No regrets, no wishing things were different. A necromancer and a vampire had no future in today’s modern world. Even if a part of her wished otherwise.

  “After you,” Tarian said, holding the door open for her.

  “Thanks.” She stepped out into the night and wished it held its usual comfort. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself and headed for the car.

  They nearly reached it when a child’s scream cut through the night followed by the smell of burning rubber and the squeal of tires skidding against the asphalt.

  “Tarian,” she said, but he was already gone, running across the parking lot.

  Melissa hesitated. She was alone. For the first time in days, no one watched her. She could use her speed to run as fast and as far as she could and never look back. Tarian might not be able to track her. She’d be free.

  But that child’s cry sliced through her mind. What if she could help?

  A human life, her inner voice whispered. What is that compared to yours?

  Melissa turned to look out over the flat plains around her. It’d be so easy, so simple. This was her chance to escape. She could leave behind the necromancer that challenged her beliefs and made her life far more complicated than it should have been. This was her chance to run and escape, not only her pursuers but also the looming choices she was going to have to make about Tarian. If she left now, she’d never have to fight her attraction for him again. She’d never have to contemplate the ramifications of yielding to that pulsing, ever present desire.

  Instead her feet turned in the direction Tarian had run.

  Fool, she thought even as she raced to the road. What she saw when she arrived, however, stopped her cold.

  The human child was unharmed. She sat at Tarian’s side with tears streaming down her face. In Tarian’s hands lay a small furry shape.

  Melissa sighed as she realized it was only a dead cat. It had probably caught the wrong end of a car and ended up splattered over the dusty road.r />
  “No,” the child moaned, reaching out to stroke her pet. “No, no, no.”

  Melissa walked closer as the urgency drained from her body. She was about to call out Tarian’s name when he raised his hand.

  Magic played over her skin. It brushed against her with a gentle touch that sent a shiver up her spine. Though her instinct was to fight it off, the power swirled around her without posing any threat.

  Tarian dragged his finger through the cat’s fur and before her eyes, the dead animal inhaled.

  Both she and the child jumped in amazement.

  “Take her straight to the vet,” Tarian ordered in a low voice. “She has a lot of internal damage. Do you understand me?”

  The little girl nodded solemnly.

  “All right.” He picked up the mewing cat and placed her in the child’s arms. “Run,” he said. “She doesn’t have much time.”

  “Thanks,” the human lisped before jetting off along the dark street.

  Tarian watched the child go before turning his head in her direction.

  At his dark expression Melissa took a step back despite herself. His magic still curled through the air, reaching out to her as if waiting for permission to pounce. Though she was unused to being cast in the role of prey and not predator, Melissa held completely still as she waited for him to get a handle on his magic. She hadn’t been making idle threats the first night they’d been together. If he used his powers against her, she would fight tooth and nail to escape him.

  The spell snapped when Tarian dragged a hand down his face. Magic recoiled from her, flooding back to its source.

  “Sorry.” His voice was rough. “Power high.”

  After her intoxication the night before she could relate to the drawbacks of using one’s abilities. Still, she waited as he got to his feet and started toward her.

  “I thought you would have run,” he said when he got close enough.

  “And you would have to spend the night tracking me down.”

  “Something like that.”

  She gazed past his shoulder at the small figure running in the distance. “I wanted to help.”

  “She wasn’t hurt.”