I’d never enjoyed a shower more than I did then. The warm spray rinsed off caked dirt and dried blood, and somehow managed to feel like a massage to boot. I was surprisingly free from any aches and pain, but standing underneath the hot water as brown and red swirls disappeared into the drain below me eased my frazzled mind too. Somehow, I’d made it out of getting kidnapped and fed to a vampire.
I giggled, the sound of it trickling through my throat, seemingly from out of nowhere. And another. I laughed so hard I could barely breathe, until the cramps in my chest turned to sobs. I cried, leaning against the cool tiles of the vampire’s bathroom, as I silently thanked my goddess for getting me out of that basement alive. I’d thought I would be raped and murdered more times this evening than anyone should in the full span of a lifetime, and yet I’d made it through my ordeal relatively unscathed.
It took me a few minutes to pull myself together enough to stop crying again. Somewhat shaky, both from the emotional outburst and the lingering effects of Warin’s blood, I turned off the tap and promised myself a good, long cry later, in the privacy of my own bathroom. Crying in the shower of the vampire who’d saved my ass seemed somewhat ungrateful—especially since he’d been gracious enough to let me use the facilities first, even though he was also filthy from our great escape.
I used one of the pristine, charcoal towels to dry myself off, luxuriating in the softness of it as I wrapped it around my body. When I wiped the steam off the mirror above the sink to check my reflection, I looked much more human than I’d felt before washing the day’s horrors off.
In fact… I squinted at myself. I looked pretty damn good. No bruises, no scrapes… My green eyes even seemed brighter, and my complexion was flawless.
I pressed my face all the way into the mirror and peered down at my nose. Nope—not so much as a blackhead in sight.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Was that because of Warin’s blood too? Or maybe the dirt underneath the fanatics’ house had some form of miracle mud mixed in.
A soft knock on the door made me pull back from staring at my own nose, a sliver of guilt at my vanity making me cringe as I turned. Here I was, taking my sweet time admiring myself, and Warin was probably dying for a shower too.
Or, undying, as it were.
Making absolutely sure the towel was secured over my breasts—because there’s only so many times you can flash a dude before it becomes awkward—I cracked the door open and peered out.
Warin stood outside the door, a small pile of fabric in his hands. “If you need a change of clothes,” he said, politely pretending like my dress hadn’t been dangling around my waist for a good part of the night.
“Thanks.” I smiled, thankful my first run-in with a vampire had been with him, rather than one of the ones from the government scare campaigns. Hell, I was pretty sure I’d never met a human man who’d been this polite. “You’re a lifesaver.”
And then I punched him lightly in the shoulder.
He stared at me for two full seconds, and I stared back, not quite comprehending what I’d just done.
You just bro-punched a vampire in the shoulder is what you did, Liv. A smoking-hot vampire who literally saved your life and fed you his blood as if it was NyQuil.
I grimaced and snatched the clothes out of his hand before he could change his mind about offering me any further assistance, quickly shutting the door behind me with a, “Won’t be a minute!”
Only I definitely would be, I realized as I pulled on the clothes he’d brought me.
The shirt—light gray, crisp linen with an Armani tag—wasn’t a problem. I sniffed the collar as I buttoned it up, and hummed with pleasure at the smell of the fresh night air. It was much too big on my frame, which wasn’t overly surprising as it clearly belonged to Warin. He was only a couple of inches taller than me—maybe six foot or thereabouts—but he was much wider across the shoulders. I rolled up the sleeves to not look like a little girl playing dress-up in her daddy’s closet, and turned my attention to the bottoms he’d brought me.
The were a dark charcoal gray, the same shade as the towels, and as immaculately wrinkle-free as the shirt. The only problem was that they were clearly also tailored to Warin, and I only got them to mid-thighs before they got well and truly stuck.
“Sonuvabitch,” I muttered, pulling desperately at the waistband. They refused to budge so much as an inch. Goddamn my round hips and inability to stay away from fast food! “Come on!”
“Liv? Is there a problem?” Warin’s voice sounded from outside the door.
“Yeah, just…” I sighed, giving up on my fight with the pants. “Do you have some other bottoms? …With an elasticated waist?”
He was silent for a bit, then said, “I’m afraid not. What size are you? I will send someone to purchase something suitable.” His voice came from further away—from inside his walk-in closet, I guessed.
“No, that’s not necessary!” I protested, cringing at the thought of the perfectly beautiful—and very well-dressed—vampire who’d opened the door for us having to go to an all-night Wal-Mart just because my ass was too big. “Don’t you have a pair of sweatpants? Or even boxers would be fine.”
Another moment’s pause, followed by a knock on the bathroom door. I cracked it open, ensuring my lower half was hidden behind it, and peered out.
Warin held out a pair of blue silk boxer shorts for me. “If they don’t fit, it is no trouble to send for a set of women’s clothes.”
“They’ll fit.” If it was the last thing I did, I’d get into them or die trying. Sending vampires to run errands might have been business as usual for him, but I was not about to attract any more attention from the three who’d surrounded me downstairs, fangs out and basically salivating at the thought of full-on eating me.
Did vampires salivate?
“Thanks!” I slammed the bathroom door shut and stepped into the boxers, praying they wouldn’t rip.
The thick silk fabric was pulled tight over my thighs and rear-end in a way it definitely wasn’t meant to, but I managed to squeeze into them without any accidents.
“Oh, thank the goddess,” I mumbled as I finally went to leave the bathroom for good. I might not have had much dignity left, but I very much appreciated not having to flash the poor vampire anymore of my lady bits.
Warin was waiting for me on the bed, absentmindedly stroking a hand over one of my now dried-up blood splotches on his sheets.
“Uh, yeah… sorry about your sheets,” I said. “I can have them cleaned for you.”
He looked up at me, mild surprise at my offer evident on his still-dirty face. “That’s not necessary.”
“You sure? I kind of wrecked them good.” I made a vague gesture at one of the bigger splotches.
“Yes.” He touched a cleaner part of the sheets. “Come, please. Sit. I wish to talk with you for a moment.”
“Sure.” With what he’d done for me this night, he could talk at me as much as he pleased.
I sat down on the bed, careful not to plant his silk boxers in any of the grime. “What’s up?”