I Only Have Fangs For You

CHAPTER 11

When Sebastian arrived at Mina's apartment the next night, he half-expected her to be gone. But as he walked down the characterless hallway with its beige walls and dark carpet that might have been blue at one time but was now a murky gray, he sensed her. The scent of lily of the valley and something inherently Mina reached him, and suddenly the antiseptic surroundings seemed far more interesting.

Last night, he'd been stunned by the intensity of his need for her. He knew he'd wanted her, but he was shocked how quickly his desire had spun out of control. He wanted her more than any woman he could recall for a long, long time.

At first, he'd found his loss of control unnerving. He just didn't lose control like that. Then he decided it wasn't totally unexpected. Mina presented a challenge, and he loved a challenge. That was really all there was to it. That simple.

He was looking forward to tonight.

He knocked on the door, and it opened immediately as if she'd been waiting for him. Although her narrowed eyes behind her ever-present glasses and her bow-shaped lips drawn tight didn't exactly state she was pleased to see him.

Okay, maybe she wasn't waiting in excited anticipation.

"Hello," he said and couldn't help adding. "Couldn't wait for me to get here, could you?"

She gave him a wry look of her own, but moved back for him to enter the small apartment. He noticed right away that her black hair was in braids, and his eyes strayed down her body to see if she was wearing a naughty little Catholic schoolgirl outfit. No such luck. A simple pale pink shirt and faded jeans.

"Come on in," she said, "since you've been here already, I guess I don't need to show you around."

Sebastian smiled at her as he passed. "Someone is cranky tonight."

She followed him into the living room and waited for him to sit, before she said, "Not cranky. Serious."

Sebastian groaned. "That's almost worse than cranky. Mina, has anyone ever told you that you are altogether too serious?"

"Well, someone has to be," she said, although she sounded a little insulted at his observation. That had to be a good sign. There was a naughty schoolgirl in there somewhere. Although he'd be happy with a real smile tonight. Or a laugh. But best not to get his hopes up.

"Sebastian," she started, and he smiled.

"What?" she demanded, when she saw his pleased expression.

"That's the first time you've said my name."

She gave him a look that stated that she thought he was a lunatic.

"Go on," he said, relaxing against the sofa cushions.

She stared at him for a moment, but her eyes were unreadable. Although that could just be the damned glare of the lamplight off the lenses of her glasses.

"Sebastian," she started again.

"Why do you wear those glasses? I've never heard of a vampire with myopia."

She paused, her frown returning. "What?"

"Your glasses. You don't need them."

"No," she agreed. "I like them." She took a breath and started again on the important thing that Sebastian could tell she was geared up to tell him.

"I want you to know that-"

"Do you have to wear the glasses tonight?"

Her mouth snapped shut, then she said flatly. "Yes. I do."

"Okay," he agreed. "But you can't know unless you ask, right?"

She frowned at him as if she was trying to decide if he really wanted an answer. Obviously deciding he didn't, she started her announcement again. "I want you to know that I fully intend to-"

"I like your hair tonight," he said. "I like the weird, messy ponytail things too."

She stopped again, giving him a look that said she thought he was mad. "Has anyone ever told you that you are rather annoying?"

"You know, you'd be surprised how often I've heard that."

"No," she stated, "I don't think I would. Are you done now? Can I speak?"

He nodded, trying to look properly contrite. Although he was thoroughly enjoying himself. He loved how easily he could get to her-it sort of made up for how easily she aroused him. He straightened against the sofa cushion as if he planned to be a good boy and listen.

She watched him for a few moments, then when he was settled, she asked, "Are you ready now?"

He nodded.

"Okay, I fully intend to keep the deal with you, but I think we need a few ground rules."

Rules. Okay, now she really did have his attention and not in a good way. He didn't like rules. In fact, all his plans for her were about breaking rules. Did no one understand that was what vampires were supposed to do? Break rules. Exist outside normal conventions.

But he didn't speak. He wanted to hear the rest of this nonsense.

"My first rule is no flirting."

Oh no. These rules were so not going to work for him.

"Also no touching. No holding hands. No… well, no contact, period."

Sebastian stood up at that request, his action smooth and sudden. Mina immediately moved back, even though he wasn't near her. Fear instantly permeated the air.

Sebastian frowned, but kept his tone calm. "Why not?"

She stared at him for a moment, then stated coolly, "Because I don't like it."

Sebastian nearly laughed. She was lying, and they both knew it. "You didn't like my kiss last night?"

For a fraction of a second, her gaze dropped to his mouth, then she met his eyes. "No. I didn't."

He knew she wasn't telling the truth; he'd felt her desire for him, tasted it on her lips. Even now, tiny flares of her need mingled with her nervousness. She wanted him, and he wanted her. It was that clear and simple. But her denial bothered him far, far more than it should have. Her distant expression bothered him, too.

"Are you making up these silly rules because you don't like me? Or because you are afraid you might like me too much? After all, it wouldn't do to actually like the Society's Number One enemy."

He stepped toward her, and again she backed up a step. More fear pulsed in the room, but somehow this alarm felt different. He wondered if he'd come close to the truth.

But instead of denying or confirming his suspicions, her gaze fell to the floor. "You aren't the Number One enemy."

Sebastian slowly approached her, but stopped a few inches away. "Mina, I'm not your enemy, period."

She looked up at him, and for just a moment, her expression was torn somewhere between hope and uncertainty. Her dark eyes, heartbreaking. But then the emotions disappeared, her pale features unreadable, doll-like.

He hated that empty look. He wanted the woman who'd allowed herself to enjoy the rain. The woman who looked aroused and dazed by his kiss. Even the woman who gritted her teeth and glared at him.

He started to reach for her, but caught himself. She said she didn't want his touch, and he would abide by that. But he had a rule of his own.

"Okay, I'll agree to your rules."

Her eyes brightened.

"But I have one of my own."

She hesitated. "What is it?"

"I can ask to touch you. You can say no, and I won't. But I can ask."

Mina frowned, surprised by his compromise, wondering if she could really trust him to keep to his word. Of course, he hadn't done anything aggressive to her yet. Actually given what she'd tried to do to him, he'd been surprisingly kind. Even the times he'd lost his temper with her, he'd not stayed mad more than a few moments. Even when she publicly insulted his personality. Even when he'd discovered her attempts to harm his club.

She studied his features, trying to see any deception there. His golden eyes regarded her back, waiting for her agreement.

"Okay," she said, and he smiled, those sinfully full lips turning up, one corner a tad higher than the other. Lord, he was beautiful.

She forced her gaze away, studying a loose bit of yarn in the worn carpet.

"Want to shake on it?" he asked, holding his hand out. She hesitated, her first instinct to tell him no, but that seemed silly. A handshake truly was harmless.

She slipped her hand against his, noting the slightly rough texture of his palm, and his long fingers curled around her smaller ones. His touch was gentle, and she found herself reminded of his lips that had tasted hers so gently, only to grow more urgent.

She pulled her hand away, and he released her readily. Okay, nothing was harmless when it came to this man.

She expected to see a smug smirk on his lips, as he was probably well aware of her body's reaction to the brief touch, but instead he just nodded.

"Good, we are agreed. Now let's go to a toy store."

Mina was still confused as she followed Sebastian down her apartment stairs and out to the street. He turned right, walking briskly over the cracked concrete.

"A toy store?" she asked, jogging every few steps to keep up with his pace.

When he realized she was having a little difficulty keeping up with him, he slowed his strides. "Yes. Have you ever been to a toy store?"

"Of course, I've been to a toy store."

He gave her a sidelong look. "Since you crossed over?"

She started to say, of course again, then paused. No, she hadn't. Of course, she hadn't. Why would she need to go to a toy store? She didn't know any children. She hadn't for centuries. The idea saddened her slightly, but instead of dwelling on the strange sense of loss, she focused back on Sebastian.

"What about you? Have you been to a toy store?"

"Sure. I love toy stores."

"Even now?" she asked.

He laughed at her incredulous expression, the sound lush and warm. "Yes. Even now."

"Why?"

He glanced at her. "I like the kids."

She stopped, her abrupt halt causing two teenage girls, who were talking animatedly in half-sentences, nearly to bump into her. The girls glared at her, then she was forgotten as they spotted Sebastian. They did a double take, then leaned into each other giggling about him as they continued down the street.

Mina frowned at the girls, then turned her attention back to Sebastian.

"You like the kids?"

He shook his head and smiled, tolerantly. "Yes, I like the kids. But not in the 'nice-little-appetizers' way you are thinking."

"I wasn't-"

He cut her off. "Yes, you were."

He started walking again, and this time she fell in step with him easily.

"So why do you like toy stores and kids?"

"You'll see."

He turned down another street but Mina's steps slowed as the crowd began to grow denser. Soon they were weaving through the masses, her shoulder bumping against Sebastian at her side and the other shoulder being brushed by passersby. With each unintentional contact, she felt more confused.

By the time they reached Times Square, she felt like she was neck-deep in a sea of sensory overload. Tourists talking in fast, loud voices. The honks of cars, the roar of engines, more voices. Bright lights burned and flashed in sharp colors at odds with the hazy scent of the city. The scent of exhaust and trash. The scent of body odor and strong perfumes and under all that the sweet, clean scent of blood.

That alone would have been enough for her to feel overwhelmed. But she was also bombarded by the emotions of those brushing past her, walking in front of her, walking close behind her. So many emotions swirling around her, excitement, exhaustion, irritation, even attraction.

She found it hard to focus on any one thing, everything twirling like a kaleidoscope with no place for her to focus.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to get her bearings, but her foot caught on the uneven sidewalk. Her eyes snapped open as she tried to catch herself, but instead she overcompensated, and began to fall.

A strong arm came out to catch her around the waist, and she found herself pulled tight to Sebastian's side. Suddenly all the swirl of human emotions and scents and sounds faded. All she could feel was that strong arm like a life preserver tossed to her in a stormy sea. He made her feel safe, protected, and while she knew she should find that fact alarming, at this moment, all she could do was appreciate it.

Quickly, he whisked her out of the main rush and into a small alcove of a doorway. He released her immediately, frowning down at her, and she wanted his arm back, making her feel centered. And oddly calm.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning down and looking closely at her face.

"Yes," she assured him. "I just tripped."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm not used to so many people, so close to me. I can't seem to concentrate."

He frowned. "You look pale, even for you."

She shifted at that comment. She knew she was very pale, but something about his pointing out the fact made her self-conscious. Was that bad?

"Yes. I just couldn't seem to get myself or my mind focused. Everything was swirling."

"Is it now?"

She paused, realizing that people still rushed passed them, although they weren't touching her. They weren't in her space. She could still sense all the smells. All the sounds and lights, but she could distance herself from it all. She could focus on one thing at a time, like the repeated honk of a cab. The loud voice of a woman yelling to her husband. And Sebastian, close to her in the small doorway, his rich, spicy scent. His strength in the air.

"Did this happen at the club?"

"No, not really. Once in awhile I got overwhelmed, but not often, not like this. But usually no one touched me there." No one but you, she amended to herself-and he'd been just as overwhelming, but in a whole different way.

"Well, the preternaturals probably sort of diluted the human emotions," he guessed. "That would be my guess. So it's just large groups of humans that affect you?"

She nodded.

Sebastian frowned at her, certain what he was thinking couldn't possibly be true. But it was the only thing that made sense. Somehow, she didn't know how to do something as simple as block mortal reverberation, the «noise» of their emotions, which could be very overpowering. How had she survived in New York City, where there were thousands of mortals per square mile? How had she survived period?

"When were you crossed over?"

She frowned as if she couldn't imagine why he'd ask such a question. He supposed age was a rather personal question, even for vampires.

"In 1903."

She was a relatively young vampire, but she had lived over a hundred years. That was a long time to not know how to control the vibrations of humans. Humans were very powerful in their own right, so how had she done it? Survived without losing control?

Hell, she'd managed to go beyond not losing control; she repressed most of her vampire nature. She was clumsy, she was self-conscious and apprehensive. She was plain.

He amended that. She gave off the impression of being plain, but she wasn't. His gaze roamed the features of her face, her beautiful cheekbones, the line of her nose, her bow-shaped lips, and those deep, bottomless blue eyes. No, she was far from plain. But she still wasn't like any vampire he'd ever encountered.

"Your initiator must have been a real ass. That is one of the first things you should have learned when you were crossed over. How to block emotions. The vampiress who crossed me and my brothers over was crazy and damned evil to boot, and even she taught us about our new selves."

When he saw the troubled look in her eyes, he caught himself, regretting his words. He shouldn't have assumed her initiator was a jerk-although he could find no other explanation for her unawareness of herself and the basics of being a vampire.

Again he wondered how she'd survived over a hundred years without learning this. Sebastian remembered all the books and magazines scattered all over her apartment. She reminded him of Rhys. His brother spent centuries hiding from the world of mortals. Surrounding himself with books and music and not much else. Until Jane-then they had learned to live together. It had taken an unorthodox way for it to happen, but Rhys had found peace.

Mina needed that too-to learn to live as a vampire. He'd been absolutely right when he'd made this bargain. She needed to awaken herself to all the amazing senses and abilities she had. And even if she still thought the Society was a good thing when the month was over, at least she'd be more aware of herself. And maybe more aware that vampires, who actually liked being vampires, weren't all evil.

But Times Square wasn't the best place to start. It was too much for her first outing.

"Maybe we should do something else tonight. I don't want you to be too overwhelmed here."

He'd assumed she would jump at the chance to leave, but she surprised him by shaking her head.

"I'd like to go to the toy store."

"Okay," he agreed slowly. "But you do need to learn how to handle all the emotions around you. I don't want you freaking out when a kid comes up behind you and tugs on your shirt because he's mistaken you for his mother."

She gave him a funny look as if she didn't really understand that example. Then her dark eyes grew hopeful.

"You could do that? Make crowds not so overwhelming?"

He hadn't ever done it before, since he'd never crossed a mortal over, but he imagined he could. "Sure."

"How?"

He considered how he'd learned to block all the reverberations. Now he wasn't even consciously aware he was doing it, so it was hard to remember how he learned. But he wasn't going to let Mina know that; she had such an expectant look on her face.

"I focus on something outside of myself," he said. "Like a distant point outside of the crowd, outside of the emotion."

Mina frowned, obviously not understanding what he was saying.

"What did you focus on this time to get you centered and calm?"

Her cheeks colored slightly, only making her skin a tad less pale-but he could definitely see a blush. She looked away from him.

"Okay," he said, realizing she wasn't going to tell him, although he was very intrigued. "You don't have to tell me, but could you keep focusing on that?"

She nodded her head, still not meeting his eyes. Her cheeks were almost pink now.

He smiled at her bowed head, getting the distinct feeling he might have been what she'd focused on. That idea pleased him.

As if to test his theory, he said, "Maybe it would be best if we held hands through this crowd. You know, to keep you close, in case you panic."

Mina stared at his outstretched hand, then she took it, her small, delicate fingers curling around his. "That would be good," she admitted.

"Okay," he said, turning back to the busy street. "Ready to try this again?"

She glanced at their linked hands, then nodded resolutely. "Yes."

As they stepped back into the masses of pedestrians, Sebastian knew he was right. She was using him as her focal point, as her center. The realization created an odd tightening in his chest, a tightening that felt good and strangely right.