Saint Or Sinner (Bad Things Book 8)

Then, Josephine, you will be mine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You didn’t seem surprised when I brought you here.” Josephine strode out of the bathroom to find Malik standing near the window, staring out at the street below. She’d showered and changed into fresh jeans and a loose, flowing blouse. Her stare swept over him as she opened her closet and pulled out a new pair of heels. Her special, killer heels. She had a few more weapons in the closet, too, things she’d be stocking up on before they headed out on the town again.

  “I’ve seen you here before.”

  “Voyeur.”

  He stiffened and glanced back at her.

  She gave him a smile. And a wink. “Or are you going to deny it? Say that you were just watching because it was part of your job?”

  “I liked to watch you.”

  “Angel, you have a serious dark side.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Okay. “There are some clothes in the closet that will probably fit you.”

  He stiffened. “You think I’ll wear your ex-lover’s clothes?”

  “Guess you didn’t watch me all the time, huh? I keep all kinds of clothes here because I never know who I will be working with or what shit might go down. FYI, I don’t keep the clothes from former lovers because keeping their stuff would mean I had some sort of attachment to them.” Her chin notched up. “I don’t have attachments.” Because it wasn’t safe for lovers to get attached to her.

  His head tilted as he closed in on her. “You don’t think you can love?”

  “Anyone can love.” That was just basic. “Doesn’t mean anyone should, though.” Especially not her.

  He made no move to search inside the closet. Instead, he stopped right in front of her and his gaze swept over Josephine. “What happened?”

  “You started watching me, what? Two hundred years ago?” After her deal with Luke. But…not right away. Not until sometime after she’d killed her father.

  Malik stared straight at her.

  She gave a weak laugh. “I wasn’t born two hundred years ago. I’d actually been around longer. And I did think I loved someone once. He was a pirate.”

  “A pirate?”

  “I kind of have a type, you see. And I like dark, dangerous men. The more dangerous, the better.” What else had he thought a vampire would like? “He knew what I was. He wanted me to transform him. And I was going to do it.”

  Malik didn’t speak.

  So she kept talking. “But he wanted to make a few more runs first. You see, he thought he wasn’t wealthy enough. That he couldn’t give me the things I deserved.” Her laughter was bitter. “I didn’t want anything.” Just him. Damn. She hadn’t talked about this, hadn’t thought about Jason, not in so long.

  Just in her nightmares.

  “So he went out again. But his ship was attacked, and it sank. Right near the Florida coast.” So much pain. “His body wasn’t recovered. I looked for it. I looked for him, but I never found him.” Over and over, she’d searched in that water. Over and over, she’d looked desperately for her pirate. Over and over.

  He was always enough. I never needed more. Why couldn’t he have just stayed with me? But he hadn’t stayed. He’d sank beneath the waves and never come back.

  That was when she’d realized how weak humans were. And how much it could hurt to love anyone.

  “Love hurts,” Josephine told Malik. “And when you can live forever, when you see how easy it is to lose those around you, you don’t exactly want to let more people get close.” She motioned toward the closet as she cleared her throat. “So, long story not short, you won’t find clothes from previous lovers in there. Because I don’t get attached enough to ever let them put their clothes in this place.” It wasn’t her home. Just another safe house. She had spots like this one all over the globe. This one wasn’t even her favorite, though she did like the fact that it sat on the edge of the city and was over a bar. Always convenient for when she wanted to get a drink.

  Bar patrons were the best donors. They were usually tipsy, and she didn’t even have to use her compulsion on them in order to get the men to offer their throats to her. They did that part so willingly.

  “You can use the shower. Grab any clothes you want.” She slid around him. “Maybe Dorrin will be contacting us later to give an update on the investigation.”

  He didn’t reach for her but— “What was his name? The lover you lost?”

  She swallowed. “Jason. He was called Jason the Gray.” Because of his eyes. Such an unusual shade.

  “Did he know you loved him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he was one lucky bastard.”

  She spun toward him. “Jason sank to the bottom of the damn ocean. He drowned, and drowning is no easy death. It’s not some simple, go-to-sleep and not wake up bull. It’s cold and scary, and your lungs burn and burn as you struggle for air. The waves toss and churn around you, and you can fight with all of your might, but you don’t escape the ocean. There is no escape.”

  “You sound like you know—”

  “I searched for him a very long time.” She exhaled. “And vampires do breathe, you know. We need air. So when I ran out of air, my body shut down.” In a sense, she’d died again. And again. Don’t go back to that place. Don’t. “I’d drift to the surface. My body would revive.” She tried to act like it had been nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. I felt as if I were losing my mind. “Then I’d search a little longer.”

  Malik swore. His fingers closed around her shoulders. “You died for him?”

  “I’ve been undead since the moment I was born. I knew I’d come back when I drowned. Unless I lost my head, I was just going to keep waking up.” Josephine licked her lips because they’d gone so very dry. “I didn’t want to leave him there, but it was a whole fucking ocean. And I couldn’t find him.”

  The last time she’d woken, floating face up in the ocean, the waves rushing around her, the sun shining on her, she’d known that there would be no finding Jason. By that time, she’d lost count of the number of searches she’d done.

  She’d just realized—he was gone.

  Humans always go away. They always die.

  She’d also known that she would be alone. Always alone. After Jason, she’d found her way back home, to the homeland she’d fled so long ago. Found herself surrounded by blood and death. Found a darkness inside of herself, one that had burst free in that swirling ocean and she’d realized—

  Enough.

  Eventually, she’d made the deal with Luke. Eventually, she’d become just what she was always meant to be.

  A killer.

  She’d killed her father in the 1800s.

  Stories mistakenly said Vlad had died in a different time. Stories were often so wrong.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Go shower, angel.” Because she was sorry, too. She felt absolutely raw with the memories that had been dragged up from the dark hell of her mind.

  His fingers slid over her wrist. A little spark of electricity seemed to dance along her nerve endings. “Did Jason drink from you?”

  “No.” He never had. That was why he’d never had a chance. “But I drank from him.” That was how they’d met. He’d been at a tavern—damn, some things never changed. She’d always enjoyed easy prey. “I thought he was drunk. He’d had plenty of rum. I thought he’d forget me. Just as all the others always have.”

  Malik’s finger slid along her wrist. “You are quite unforgettable.”

  Her lashes lowered. “Jason came looking for me the next night. He’d remembered. He seemed so determined to find me. He said he needed me. That he’d been desperate. That I’d haunted his mind all day.”

  Malik’s hold on her tightened.

  “Jason told me that he used to crave me.” She’d never had someone focus on her with such an intensity.

  Not until…

  Josephine looked into Malik’s eyes. Not until Malik. “And he used to look at me…” Th
is hurt. “Exactly like you do.” She pulled away from him. “Go shower, Malik. Cool off. Cool down. I’ll be in the bar downstairs when you’re done.” She hurried for the door.

  “Josephine—”

  She looked back.

  “I’m sorry about your pirate.”

  “Me, too.” She opened the door and hurried down the narrow staircase.

  ***

  The icy shower water hadn’t cooled his blood. Hadn’t made the desire Malik felt for Josephine lessen any. He still wanted her just as badly. And when she’d talked about the pirate, about the man who’d touched her heart—

  The guy might be dead, but Malik still thought the bastard was lucky. Josephine had loved him.

  Malik jerked on a black shirt. Faded jeans. The shirt was a little too tight in the shoulders. The jeans were worn and comfortable, though, and he even found a pair of old boots in the back of her closet. He’d tried to summon clothes, but that shit hadn’t worked.

  His magic was fading, fast, and Malik wondered what would happen next.

  His body seemed to hum with energy as he yanked open the door and hurried down the small flight of stairs that led to the bar. With every moment that he’d been away from Josephine, he’d felt tension gathering. Had Leo been right? When he was close to her, the tension he felt seemed to ease. But as soon as she left his sight…

  I need her.

  Not a good development. He had to ask Josephine for the truth. Had to see if she even understood what her bite could do to someone like him.

  The stairs led to the back entrance of the bar. When he marched inside, Malik found the place mostly empty. It wasn’t some fancy, high-end bar. More old school. Basic. A long counter was to the right, and behind it, he saw a voluptuous blonde swiping a brown cloth over some glasses. Wooden chairs and tables littered the space, and a slow country song played from a juke box.

  Josephine sat at the counter, drumming her fingers on the surface. Malik approached her slowly, and her head turned toward him. Her eyes were darker than before. Seemed even deeper. He grabbed a stool and pulled it closer to her. Josephine’s scent swept around him.

  “Hit me with a shot, Kylie,” Josephine called to the bartender. “Same thing for my friend.”

  The lady had two shots in front of them moments later.

  Josephine picked one up.

  The door opened. Two young guys—looked like college kids—wandered inside.

  “The place will pick up soon. The sun is getting ready to set.” She motioned toward his shot glass. “We’re supposed to do these together.”

  He picked up the shot glass. “I didn’t think vamps could drink this—”

  “Oh, I can drink it. Don’t worry.” She downed the shot in one fast gulp. Motioned for another. “Problem is, I can’t get drunk. The alcohol has no impact on me.”

  Then why was she having the shots?

  She picked up the now full shot glass. Kylie had filled it in a flash before hurrying away. “Works great on prey.” Her smile was sad. “They think they’re drinking me under the table.” Her voice was low, for him alone. “They’re not. They never do. I drink with them until they can’t remember what’s happening. Then I take them outside, and I put my fangs in their throats.” A shrug before she downed the shot. “I’m not proud of the way I live. But I have to survive, don’t I? And my father always said I was one hell of a survivor.”

  He brought the shot glass to his lips. Downed it. The alcohol burned as it slid along his throat. He saw Kylie glance his way, and Malik motioned for another.

  “Luke said you had a taste for sin. But I haven’t really seen it.”

  He drained the second shot glass as he held Josephine’s stare. “That’s because I only have a taste for you.”

  Her laughter was low and sensual.

  He motioned for another shot as she did the same.

  “Am I your sin?” Josephine asked as she brought the shot glass to her mouth.

  “Yes.” He wasn’t going to deny that very basic truth. She was his greatest sin.

  They both downed another shot. More people were coming into the bar. Couples. Single women. More men. Drifting in and out. A waiter appeared—an older guy in a black apron. A waitress—a young redhead.

  The bar grew crowded. Fast.

  Malik stayed beside Josephine.

  “Forty-eight hours—that was my time limit.” She turned her wrist up, looking at the mark there.

  His mark.

  The thought was possessive and dark, and Malik didn’t care.

  “If I didn’t bring you back, alive, within forty-eight hours, then I was supposed to kill you.”

  She took another shot. Slammed the glass down on the table. “Doesn’t do a damn thing.”

  He didn’t take another shot, even though the bartender nervously slid one toward him. His gaze darted to the woman—she seemed to be sweating. Had she overheard part of their conversation? Did she think they were totally crazy?

  Probably.

  Then the bartender backed away when someone else called out to her.

  “You kill me, I kill you.” Josephine’s smile made his chest burn. “Seems like we’re just meant to destroy each other, huh?”

  “No.” He took the glass from her. Tangled his fingers with hers and leaned in closer to her. The music seemed to have faded. All of the other voices were muted. “That’s not it. Would never…destroy you.” Why was talking hard? Why did his tongue feel thick in his mouth?

  “Malik?”

  “Get out…of here.” He slid off the bar stool. Stumbled. He didn’t want to be around those humans. Didn’t want to be around anyone but her. He kept his hold on her hand. Dragged her toward the back entrance of that pit of a bar. Her place was upstairs. They’d go back upstairs. Then it would just be him. Just her.

  The way it should be. The way he’d longed for it to be.

  “Your voice sounds funny.” A pause. “Are you drunk? Lightweight,” she muttered.

  His knees nearly buckled, but Josephine pushed her body against his, holding him in place.

  “Malik?” Now concern entered her voice. “Malik, look at me.”

  He was looking at her, wasn’t he? But, fucking hell, he couldn’t see her. All he could see were shadows. Thick, heavy shadows surrounded him. “Josephine?” He could feel her against him, and he held her even tighter.

  “Your eyes are bleeding.” Her voice was ragged. “You can’t see me, can you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Your voice is slurred, your vision has gone dark, and I’m betting you nearly fell because your legs are getting weaker, right?”

  “Y-yes…” This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t be weak. Not when she needed him.

  “That bitch,” Josephine swore. Then she was pushing him back, shoving him onto the hard surface of what felt like a chair. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Nothing felt okay. Things felt wrong.

  “You’ve been poisoned.”

  He growled. Poison. Leo had said Josephine was poison. He was wrong.

  “I’m going to fix you, though, okay?”

  It was getting harder to breathe. He felt as if his lungs were filling with water. Josephine had told him that she’d drowned for her dead lover, that she’d searched for him again and again. Is this what it had felt like for her, when she’d been drowning? His breath couldn’t come, he couldn’t—

  “Drink my blood. Take it, now, before your heart stops.”

  Her wrist was at his mouth. He couldn’t see her, but when he touched her wrist, he felt the wetness of her blood. He pulled her wrist forward and his mouth closed around her delicate skin. Her blood trickled into his mouth, and he swallowed, desperate, greedy, he swallowed again and again and—

  “Malik?”

  He felt his heart stop.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He wasn’t drinking her blood, not any longer. Josephine stared down at Malik, hating the line of blood that dripped from each of his closed eyes
. He’d seemed so lost when he called her name. Afraid.

  She didn’t like it when her angel was afraid.

  Her breath heaved in and out of her lungs. His didn’t. Because Malik wasn’t moving. Malik wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t alive.

  Because of the fucking poison.

  Rage burned within her, driving her beyond control. Driving her to kill. “Everyone!” The shout came from her as a blast of fury. “Get the fuck out of here…or die.”

  At first, there was a slow swell of nervous laughter. Like she’d just made some shitty joke.

  One dumbass even walked toward her with a smirk on his face. “Sure, sweetheart, we’ll just—”

  She grabbed him around the neck and threw his ass through the front door. And then, not caring what paranormal rule she might be violating, Josephine flashed her fangs. “Who the hell is next?”

  There was running then. Some screams. Sweet music to her ears. Her gaze darted through the crowd. Where was the bartender? Freaking Kylie. She’d known that woman for three years. Josephine owned the whole damn building. The apartment upstairs and this shit-hole bar. Kylie worked for her. And the woman had betrayed her?

  Hell, no.

  “Die, freak!” Some jerkoff yelled as he lunged at Josephine. He was reaching for a gun holster that was under his coat—she could see the thick bulge.

  Since she wasn’t in the mood to take a bullet, she punched him in the face, hard enough to possibly break his jaw. He went down and didn’t get up.

  Kylie rushed for the front door.

  Josephine just jumped in front of her. “Going someplace?”

  Kylie’s eyes were the size of watermelons. “You…you said…get out—”

  “I wanted everyone else out, not you.” Josephine smiled—a nice, big smile that would show off her fangs. “You’re not going any place.”

  The rest of the humans were gone. Well, with the exception of the fool who was unconscious on the floor.

  “My friend is very sick,” Josephine told Kylie. She pointed to Malik’s still form. “And I think you’re the one who made him sick.”

  Fear practically oozed from Kylie’s pores. Normally, Josephine enjoyed the smell of fear. Not this time.