Infinity by Sherrilyn Kenyon

He hissed as he spel ed out “chemacil zmobies.” Gah, how did people manage with one hand? He kept making typos al over the place and reaching across the keyboard was real y starting to tick him off.

 

Worse, his pain meds had vaporized in his system and since his school had a strict no-drug policy, including Tylenol or Advil, he hadn’t brought more for fear of being strip-searched in Peters’s office for it. And if the pain wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t find anything online about diseases that would make someone crave human flesh. Wel , not unless they were werewolves. Flesh-eating demons. Demonic parasites …

 

Yeah, right. As if such a thing were possible off a movie screen. …

 

He was dying to ask Bubba some questions about his theories, but the man had been explicit: “Wake me up, boy, and I wil shoot you dead where you stand.” Now with most folks, that might be considered an idle threat. But when the person making the threat slept on more weapons than a terrorist training camp and had the temperament of a psycho kil er, it was wise to believe he would actual y do it and laugh while he gutted you.

 

As Bubba so often said: “I got a shotgun and a backhoe and no one looks under a septic tank for a dead body.” Which made Nick wonder how many of Bubba’s enemies had faces on milk cartons.

 

But that was another story. …

 

The bel over the door sounded. Sighing in aggravation, Nick left the computer to wander back to the counter to wait on whoever was there.

 

He stopped dead in his tracks, bug-eyed.

 

Holy . . .

 

Every male hormone in his body fired as he saw what had to be the sexiest chick in New Orleans. A couple of years older than him, she was amazing. The good news was she total y distracted him from his pain.

 

Decked out in tight black leather pants and a red halter top, she wore a studded black leather col ar and bracelets. And a long, studded black leather belt that was wrapped around her narrow waist four times. A huge rhinestone-covered silver cross fel from the belt, banging against her thigh as she walked with a seductive gait he was sure had given a few old men heart attacks from hormonal overload. Her hair was cut short into a black bob. By the opaque color of it, he figured she’d dyed it that way. Her eyes were ringed by thick black eyeliner, giving them a decidedly catlike appearance. Like her eyes, her lips were also jet-black.

 

Normal y Goth women didn’t do it for him, but this one …

 

Yeah. She was h-o-t. Best of al , if he made out with her and got that lipstick on his col ar his mom would think it was grease. Something that would definitely keep him from being grounded.

 

Shame on you, Nick. You’re cheating on Kody.

 

Wel , not real y, since they weren’t an item. It couldn’t be cheating. Technical y. Yet it did kind of feel that way.

 

How flipping weird. I’m whipped and I’m not even claimed yet. Dang, that sucked.

 

She sauntered up to the counter, leaned over it almost spil ing her breasts onto the glass top, and looked toward the back room where he’d been. “Where’s Bubba?”

 

“Sleeping. Can I help you?” He tried his best to keep his eyes on her face and not on what he real y, real y wanted to look at. That might get him seriously bitch-slapped and since she was wearing spiked rings …

 

It could real y hurt.

 

She popped the gum she was chewing as she gave him an amused once-over. “What about Mark?”

 

“Also asleep.”

 

She straightened up. “You new help?”

 

“Just fil ing in for the morning. They had a late night.”

 

“I’l bet.” She shrugged her backpack off, set it on the floor by her feet, and opened it.

 

Nick stood up on his tiptoes so that he could get a better view of her shapely butt as she rooted through her pack.

 

Dang, she was fine. …

 

I could so go for an older woman. . . .

 

Think of Kody. Think of Kody. . . .

 

After a few seconds, she stood up with what appeared to be steel stakes in her hand.

 

“I need Bubba to sharpen these, and tel him that I need a new batch of shurikens. ASAP. Or sooner.” Nick’s eyes widened as he realized there was blood on one of the stakes. “Should I ask?”

 

“Not if you want to live to eat lunch. Name’s Tabitha Devereaux, and you are?” Cool, another great Cajun like him.

 

“Nick Gautier.”

 

“Nice meeting you, Nick. Tel Bubba I’l be back at dusk to get those and they better be sharp. I don’t want no vampire surviving my attacks to come at me again. Understand?” Man … Why were al the sexy women absolutely insane?

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

She picked up the backpack and slung it over one shoulder before cocking her hip in a deadly pose that drained al the blood from his brain. “Where do you go to school?”

 

“St. Richard’s.”

 

“The school where the coach ate the principal? That’s so cool. Wish we’d have something like that at St. Mary’s.

 

Unfortunately, I’m the scariest thing there.” She winked at him.

 

“Have a good day, kid.”

 

Hoping there wasn’t drool coming out of his mouth, he watched as she went outside to where a black Nighthawk motorcycle waited. Slinging one long leg over it, she started the engine, then put her helmet on.