At this time of night, the Virginia roads were mostly deserted, but my eyes were peeled because this was prime undead foraging hour. Usually it was just a vamp taking a snack. They used the power in their gaze and the hallucinogenic in their fangs to drink and run, leaving their meals with a false memory and a lower iron count. Bones had been the one to reveal that to me. He’d taught me all about vampires: their strengths (many!), weaknesses (few, and sunlight, crosses, and wooden stakes weren’t among them), their beliefs (that Cain was the first vampire, created when God punished him for murdering Abel by changing him into something that must forever drink blood as a reminder that he’d spilled his brother’s), and how they lived in pyramidlike societies where the top vampire ruled over all the “children” they created. Yeah, Bones had taught me everything I knew.
And then I’d left him.
I swerved and hit the brakes as a cat darted in front of my tires. I climbed out to find it lying near my car. It tried to run, but I caught it and looked it over. There was blood on its nose, some scratches, and it let out a cry when I moved its leg. Broken, without a doubt.
Mumbling soothing nonsense, I got out my cell phone. “I just hit a kitten,” I told Denise. “Can you find a vet for me? I can’t just leave it.”
She made a cooing sound of sympathy and went to fetch the phone book. After a moment, she was back.
“This one is open all night and they’re not far from you. Let me know how the kitty does, okay? I’ll put the cheesecake back in the freezer.”
I hung up, then called the vet to get directions. In ten minutes, I pulled up to Noah’s Furry Ark.
Over my pajamas I had on my coat, but instead of boots, yes, I was wearing blue fuzzy slippers. I probably looked like a housewife from hell.
The man behind the desk smiled when I entered. “Are you the lady that just called? With the cat?”
“That’s me.”
“And you are Mrs....?”
“Miss.Cristine Russell.” That was the name I went under now, another tribute to my lost love, since Bones’ human name had been Crispin Russell. My sentimental curse would be the end of me.
That friendly smile widened. “I’m Dr. Noah Rose.”
Noah. That explained the corny name of the place. He took the kitty for X-rays and returned after a few minutes.
“One broken leg, some abrasions, and malnutrition. He should be fine in a couple weeks. This was a stray?”
“As far as I know, Dr. Rose.”
“Noah, please. Cute little kitten; are you going to keep him?”
The word kitten made me flinch, but I covered it and answered without thinking.
“Yes.”
The kitten’s wide eyes fixed on me, as though he knew his fate had been settled. With his tiny leg in a cast and ointment in his scratches, he looked truly pitiful.
“With food and rest, this kitty will be good as new.”
“That’s great. How much do I owe you?”
He smiled in an abashed way. “No charge. You did a nice thing. You’ll have to bring him back in two weeks for me to remove that cast. When is good for you?”
“Anything late. I, er, work strange hours.”
“Evenings aren’t a problem.”
He gave me another shy smile, and something told me he wasn’t as accommodating with every client. Still, he seemed harmless. That was a rarity in the men I met.
“What about eight on Thursday in two weeks?”
“Fine.”
“Thanks for the help, Noah. I owe you one.” With the cat in tow, I started toward the door.
“Wait!” He came around the desk and then stopped. “This is entirely unprofessional, but if you think you owe me, not that you do, of course, but... I’m new in town, and... well, I don’t know many people. Most of my clients are older or married and... what I’m trying to say is... ”
I raised a questioning brow at this ramble, and he actually flushed. “Never mind. If you don’t show up for your appointment, I’ll understand. I’m sorry.”
The poor guy was a sweetheart. I gave him a quick feminine perusal, far different from the danger-assessment one I’d done when I first came in. Noah was tall, dark, and boyishly handsome. Maybe I’d hook him up with Denise—she just said her other date hadn’t impressed her.
“Okay, Noah, the answer’s yes. In fact, my friend Denise and I were going to catch dinner Monday night. You’re welcome to join us.”
He let out a breath. “Monday is perfect. I’ll call you Sunday to confirm. I don’t normally do things like this. God, that sounds like a line. Let me ask for your number, before I talk you out of it.”
With a smile I wrote down my cell number. If Noah and Denise hit it off, I’d quietly leave before dessert. If he turned out to be a jerk, then I’d make sure he was sent on his way without bothering her further. Hey, what were friends for?
“Please don’t change your mind,” he said when I handed him my number.
Instead of responding, I merely waved good night.
THREE