First Bitten (The Alexandra Jones Series #1)
First Bitten: Chapter 12

I’ve left my hair down. Nathan bought me a hair dryer last week. It makes a change to wear it down. I’d forgotten how much I like the feel of it over my shoulders and running down my back. I always used to wear my hair down in my old life, set poker straight by hair straighteners, but for the last month it’s just been tied back into a ponytail. I haven’t really cared to bother with it.

I haven’t got any make-up on because I don’t currently own any. I’ve always felt naked without mascara. I’ve got really huge blue eyes. I know that may sound like a nice combination but trust me it’s not. I’ve always thought my eyes were too big for my face. They stand out, and not in a good way. Mascara helps to make me feel a little better about them.

I’m wearing my dark blue skinny jeans and ribbed black vest top. I don’t have many clothes. When you’ve got a man buying clothes for you, things are going to be pretty basic. So, I’ve made the best of what I have with what I’ve got.

I assess myself in the mirror. I still look like crap.

I pick up the tub of Vaseline I’ve found in the bathroom cabinet and slick a bit of that over my eyelashes to give them a sheen, and then I rub some on my lips. Okay, that’ll do.

I instantly hate myself for actually caring about my appearance. Carrie can’t care about her appearance anymore, so why should I be able to?

Stop it, Alex. You’re trying, remember.

Still, I don’t even know why I’m bothering to try and look nice. I’m only going out with Nathan, and considering there isn’t going to be any other people around, it’s not exactly going to be anywhere special. It’s a pointless exercise really.

With a sigh, I head downstairs to replace him. I can’t hear him in the house anywhere, but just because I can’t hear him, doesn’t mean he’s not here. He can be pretty stealthy when he wants to be.

I poke my head into the living room but it’s empty. I go in the kitchen. Jack’s sitting at the table reading the newspaper, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, a lit cigar resting in the ashtray. I like the sight. Jack always seems to give off a warm, homely kind of vibe. He glances up at my entrance and smiles warmly. “Hiya, love.”

My eyes instinctively flicker to the newspaper. I resist the urge to ask if I’m in it. The media interest in my and Carrie’s disappearance has reduced in the absence of leads as to our whereabouts, obviously.

“Hi,” I reply distractedly, my eyes flitting about. “Do you know where Nathan is?”

“He’s waiting out front for you, love.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.” I turn, going back through the door I just came in.

I feel a bit awkward that Jack knows I’m going out with Nathan. I don’t know why. It’s not like we’re going on a date or anything.

“You look pretty,” Jack says from behind me.

I can’t stop my face from going red. “Thanks,” I mutter and hasten to make my way down the hall and out the front door.

Great, I do look like I’ve made an effort. If Jack noticed then Nathan most certainly will. He’s as sharp as a tack and I don’t want him thinking I made the effort for him because I most certainly did not.

I open the door to see Nathan leaning up against the driver’s side of a black Range Rover. I notice he’s changed his clothes from the ones he had on earlier. He’s wearing black motorbike boots, faded blue jeans and a fitted black T-shirt with a picture of Jim Morrison on the front. He’s actually looks a bit tidier than normal – well, for him, anyway. Even his hair looks like it’s seen a comb.

His lips almost curve into a smile as I approach and if he notices I’ve made an effort, he doesn’t comment on it.

He climbs into the driver’s seat and I walk around to the passenger side, get in and put my seatbelt on.

Nathan roars the engine to life and the CD player comes on in the middle of The Killers’ ‘Read My Mind’.

Well at least he’s got good taste in music.

He swings the car around, and instead of turning right and heading down the long drive to the main road, he turns left and drives down the dirt track heading straight for the forest.

We don’t speak for the first minute of the journey and it’s a very long minute.

Obviously I’m the first to break the silence. “Is this your family’s?” I ask.

“What, the car?”

“No, the forest.” I point a finger at the bracken we’re entering. “Do you own this as well as the farm?” The daylight collides with the trees, bringing in a darker edge to the day. I feel a sudden chill on my bare arms. I rub my hands over them.

“Yep,” he answers.

“Wow, you guys have a lot of land.”

“Mmm.”

Silence.

“Sol said you were in the army,” I mention, trying to reignite the conversation.

He gives me a sideways glance. It’s almost a look of suspicion. “Yeah, I was,” he replies slowly.

“Did you like it?”

“What?”

“Being in the army.”

He shrugs. “It was okay.”

“How long were you in for?”

“Seven years.”

Jesus, this is like pulling teeth. “What made you enlist?”

He takes a deep breath. It’s one of those, ‘I really don’t want to talk to you about this but you won’t let up’ kind of breaths. “I wanted to do something useful,” he replies, impassive, not taking his eyes off the track ahead.

“And farming isn’t?”

“Yeah, it is, but I just wanted to branch out on my own for a bit, try something else, see what that was like.”

Well at least his sentences are getting a bit longer.

“How’d that work out for you?” I inquire.

“I’m back here, aren’t I?”

“Hmm.” I nod. “Sol said you saved some peoples’ lives while you were serving in Iraq.”

His face freezes, hardens, and I instantly know I’ve said the wrong thing. As I’m quickly discovering, it’s like treading land mines talking to Nathan.

For a long moment he says nothing and I think that’s it, end of discussion, but then he says in a flat voice, “Yeah, and I also saw a lot of people die too.”

So he obviously doesn’t hold himself in the same hero status as Sol does.

“But you saved people’s lives,” I say, turning to him. “That has to count for something, surely?”

“Ask the ones I didn’t save.”

And all that does is remind me of Carrie. She was someone he didn’t save. If only that Vârcolac had fed on me first, killed me first, then it would be Carrie sitting here having this conversation with Nathan, not me. And I wish more than anything it were that way. Not that I would ever want to condemn her to a life of this – but rather that than gone.

“Why did you save me that night?” The words are out before I can even consider them.

Nathan slams on the breaks, skidding us to a sudden halt. “Why all the questions?” He turns his hard eyes onto me.

Without warning, my hackles rise. I don’t know why but I have this sudden urge to pick a fight with him. I’ve gone from cold to hot in the space of five seconds and I have absolutely no idea where it’s coming from.

I try to rein myself in. “I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I guess I just wanted to get to know you.” And I leave out the part about saving my life.

His eyes narrow on me. “Why?”

“Does there have to be a reason?”

He looks at me with a ‘yes’ face.

Losing all my resolve, I throw my hands up in the air. “I guess I just thought it was the polite thing to do considering I currently live in your house. God, I was just trying to make conversation!”

“Try the weather next time.” He gives me one last piercing stare, looks straight ahead out through the windscreen, and puts his hands back around the steering wheel.

I’m so angry I can barely breathe. My chest is pumping up and down and my heart is just about ready to explode. “Why did you save me?” I ask him bluntly.

I see the whites of his knuckles as his hands tighten around the steering wheel. “I didn’t expect you to live.”

And that just pisses me off even more than I already was. It’s not like I haven’t heard that from him before. “Yeah, but that’s not really answering my question is it? If anything it just highlights my point!” I spin around in my seat to face him. “You thought I’d die anyway so why put your life at risk to save someone who in your mind was as good as dead? I just don’t get it!”

“Do you have to?”

“Yes!” I cry.

“Why?” He looks at me angrily. “Just why is it so fucking important you know?”

“Because I need to understand why I’m still here and Carrie’s not!” The sound of my screaming voice quickly fades away and all that’s left is a tense silence that even the music can’t fill.

After a moment, he shakes his head and says in a quiet voice, “I don’t know.” He genuinely looks and sounds like he doesn’t, like it’s still a mystery even to him, but I don’t believe it. “I guess it’s just not in me to walk away. It’s not who I am. And when I heard your screams, I became a part of it whether I liked it or not. I guess I just lucked out that night.”

And there it is. He just can’t help himself.

Tears sting my eyes at his careless remark over the event that changed my life forever. “Do you enjoy being a bastard?” I ask in a flat voice.

“It can have its upsides.” He shrugs, casting an unemotional glance my way.

Then the tears spill. I’ve heard enough. Fuck him.

I get out and slam the door so hard it shakes the whole car. I start to walk quickly back up the track in the direction of the house.

“Where are you going?” Nathan calls out. He’s out of the car now, I hear his door open.

“As far away from you as possible!” I yell back at him. I wipe the tears from my eyes. I hate that he can upset me like this.

He jogs up alongside me, passing me by and stops in front of me, forcing me to an abrupt halt.

“Alex?”

I refuse to look at him and just stare down at the muddy ground beneath my feet.

I hear him sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

But I don’t believe his apology for one second. “You really lack sincerity,” I say coldly.

I move to go around him but he steps in front of me again, stopping me. He takes hold of me by my arms. “I am sorry, really.”

But I can’t hear him anymore because the feel of his hands on my skin is like I’m being blasted by ten thousand volts. It’s the most intense sensation I’ve ever felt.

Blood is beating in my ears. I drag my eyes up to his. The normal hardened edges around them have softened. Something funny happens inside my stomach. I swallow down, trying to quash the sensation. “I get that you hate me, Nathan.” My voice comes out breathy. “But I just wish…”

“I don’t hate you,” he cuts in, looking astonished. Releasing his hold on me he steps back and I’m grateful for the space.

“So why do you act like you do?”

“I don’t, do I?” He changes tack when he sees my expression change to absolute surety.

“You act like I don’t exist.”

“No I don’t.”

“You ignore me.”

“That’s bullshit. I’m with you all the time.” He highlights the ‘all’. I don’t miss that.

“No, you’re not. The only time you see me is when you bring me blood, and that’s brief to say the least, and what you say hardly qualifies as talking. There was the night when Hope was born, that was okay, you were sort of nice to me then, but the next day it was back to the same old you pretending like I don’t exist.”

He drums his fingers irritably against his forehead. “Just what exactly do you want from me, Alex?” His question throws me. I really hate it when he does that.

But really, what do I want from him? I hadn’t even realised it bothered me that he didn’t like me. In many ways him hating me made it easier for me to hate myself. But now, for some reason, I’m replaceing myself wanting him to like me, wanting him to be nice to me. And it’s just another alien thought which won’t fit anywhere in this screwed-up head of mine.

“I … er … ” I fumble around for words I’m not entirely sure of. “Well, I guess I’d just like you to be a bit nicer to me.”

“And what’s this?” He gestures around with an open hand.

I give him a confused look.

“This, me taking you out away from the farm, getting you out of the house. Isn’t that a nice thing to do?”

“Oh,” I say. When he puts it that way, I guess he does have a point. “Well, yeah, I suppose, but you haven’t really taken me anywhere, well not yet, but then I have no clue where we’re actually going. But anyway … ” I pause, collecting my thoughts, bringing myself back on track, “ … the point is it’d just be nice if you’d talk to me a bit more, be a bit nicer to me.” I fold my arms across my chest

He presses his lips together, inhales a deep breath in through his nose and breathes it out again. “Okay, I’ll make sure I talk you more if that’ll make you happy.”

I don’t actually know whether he’s been sarky or serious, so I opt to choose the latter as I’m getting pretty tired of arguing with him now.

“Well, okay. Thanks.” I unfurl my arms.

“Now will you get back in the car?”

I meet his brilliant eyes. “Sure,” I say through my dry mouth.

Once we’re both back in the car, Nathan shifts into first gear and sets off down the track again.

And now, after that battle, I really don’t want to talk. It kind of defeats the point of the argument but at the moment I’m past caring, so I stay silent for the remainder of the journey. Well, all five minutes of it.

We’re deep in the heart of the forest when Nathan slows the car to a stop at the point where the track narrows to a foot path.

“We’re here,” he says, turning the engine off and getting out of the car.

“Here where?” I ask opening my door and climbing out.

“The best part of the forest for hunting.”

“What?” I shut the car door a bit too hard.

Nathan sighs. “The best part of the forest for hunting.” He reiterates the words, single and distinct.

I ignore his sarcasm. “You brought me out here to go hunting?”

He nods.

“Hunting what?”

“Rabbits, deer, that kind of thing.”

I wrinkle my nose up. “You want me to kill Bambi and Thumper?”

“Yeah, if that’s how you want to put it,” he says around a smile.

“Oh I don’t know, Nathan, I don’t think so. I don’t want to hunt. I mean I wouldn’t know how to and I’ve never even held a gun in my life, let alone shot one.”

He lets out a sharp laugh. It instantly gets my back up. “Do you see any guns?” He gestures around with empty hands.

“Well how would I know if you’ve got one? You usually carry a concealed weapon somewhere on you, don’t you?” My tone is acerbic.

He gives me a look. “Alex, I brought you out here because I thought it might be an idea to teach you how to hunt and feed yourself just in case you ever replace yourself needing to.”

What? It was bad enough when I thought he wanted me to kill them with guns, but this – no way.

“So let me get this straight.” I rub my nose. “You’ve brought me out to hunt and kill animals with my bare hands?”

A smile ghosts his face. He scratches his cheek. “Well teeth, but basically, yes.”

Oh God. This is his idea of going out? No wonder he hasn’t got a girlfriend.

“This is your idea of going out?” My voice comes out shrill.

Here was me thinking I was going to do something nice. Of course I know I can’t go out amongst people anymore, well for the time-being anyway, but I thought … well I don’t know what I thought but it certainly wasn’t this.

“What did you think we were gonna be doing?” Nathan asks, his tone pedantic. “I brought you into the middle of the woods, for God’s sake.” He shakes his head in a patronising manner.

And I feel like a complete idiot.

“I don’t know.” I cast around for something to say. “I thought maybe we were going to have a picnic, or going hiking, or something … ” I trail off, my face flaming. “I want to go back to the house.” I say shortly.

“For fucks sake,” he grouches, “you complain I’m not nice to you. Well, this is me being nice.” He shoves his hands in his rear jeans pockets.

“This is your idea of nice?” My voice shoots up another octave.

“Yep.” He nods.

“Well, it’s not mine.” I fold my arms stubbornly across my chest.

“Well, it’s all I’ve got to offer you at the moment,” he sighs, resigned. “So take it or leave it but I’m going hunting. You can do as you please.”

He pulls his T-shirt off over his head.

“What are you doing?” I splutter, gesturing to his bare chest.

My eyes involuntarily take a quick tour of said chest. He’s all muscle. He’s taut and toned, and his skin is incredibly smooth. I notice he’s wearing army dog tags around his neck. My eyes are drawn to a tattoo on the left hand side of his ribcage. It looks like some kind of Arabic lettering. There’s quite a bit of it and it stops just shy of his waist.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he says smartly, snapping me back to the now.

“It looks like you’re undressing in front of me.” My voice breaks, making me sound like a teenage boy right before puberty.

I’m trying to keep my eyes level with his, desperately trying not to look at his chest. It’s way harder than you’d think.

He runs his hand through his hair, down his neck and hangs his hand off his shoulder. “I’m going to shift.”

“What? Shape shift?”

He gives me a stupid look.

My annoyance and embarrassment quickly evaporates and now all I feel is curious. “Are you going to change into a wolf?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Well I was going to turn into a pigeon but I’m not so sure I’d be able to scare the deer into submission.” He smirks.

I get the sudden urge to wipe it off his face. “Hardy bloody ha,” I retort. I hate being mocked. I think he forgets this is all new and very alien to me.

“Look,” he says in a placating tone. “If I shift with my clothes on they’ll shred and I need them to go home in as I haven’t got any spares with me … unless you want me to go back home naked.” He raises his eyebrow again, this time in a suggestive manner and shrugs his shoulders, T-shirt still in his hand. “I’m easy either way.”

“Well I’m not,” I say hotly, my cheeks flaming. “Do what you have to.” I waft my hand. “I just don’t care to see any of your … goods.”

Goods? Did I really just say that? Oh God.

He makes a sound almost approaching a laugh and throws his T-shirt onto the bonnet of the car. He reaches down and yanks his boots off revealing bare feet. Doesn’t he ever wear socks? He tosses his boots near the car and starts to unbutton his jeans.

I avert my eyes, shifting uncomfortably. “What should I do while you’re gone?” My voice has gone hoarse. I clear my clogged throat.

Nathan takes the car keys out of his pocket and throws them to me. I catch them easily. “Take the car back home. I’ll head that way on my hunt. Just do me a favour and leave my clothes and boots at the top of the track, will you?”

I’m replaceing it hard to focus. His jeans are undone and hanging off his slim hips. I can see his boxer shorts. Surprisingly for him, they’re Dolce and Gabbana. I imagined Nathan would be a Next kind of guy when it came to buying boxer shorts, not that I think about Nathan and his choice of underwear in any way at all but, anyway, whatever, they’re black and quite nice.

I’m starting to feel really warm.

I set my eyes on his face, avoiding any more of his nakedness. “I can’t drive,” I finally say.

“Seriously?”

“Why would I make it up?”

“I’ll teach you sometime if you want.”

“Sure.” I shrug.

He drops his jeans to the floor. My pulse races up. He steps out of them, bends down, picks them up and throws them on top of the car bonnet next to his T-shirt.

He’s standing here before me in just his tight black, designer boxer shorts and nothing more.

I can honestly say I’ve never been as uncomfortable in a man’s presence as I am in his right now. I’m not a prude, far from it, but this guy has no modesty whatsoever. And I’m pretty sure he’s aware of just how uncomfortable he’s making me feel. I’m just wondering why he’s enjoying torturing me like this.

My skin is prickling and a flush of heat is rising up my neck, threatening to heat my face again.

Pull yourself together, Alex, he’s only a man – a good-looking, sort of sexy man, if you like the unwashed, scruffy, muscular type – but he is a man nonetheless. And not a very nice man at that.

“Are you gonna take those off as well?” I point towards his boxer shorts.

“Yeah, I was gonna. Why?” A tiny smile creeps onto his face. He pulls his dog tags off over his head and tosses them onto his pile of clothes.

“Because, well, I need to know so I can turn around, or close my eyes or something, to give you some privacy.” Actually I could have turned away for the whole time he was undressing. I hope he doesn’t note that.

“Thanks for the courtesy.” His eyes smile almost sexily at me and that sets off a whole different kind of thought reaming through my mind.

Stop it, Alex. Stop it now.

I turn around and start to chew on my thumbnail and I hear the gentle thud of his boxer shorts as they land on top of his clothes.

Nathan is naked. Right now. Behind me, completely naked.

Oh God.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me?” he asks.

“No.”

“You’re gonna have to learn to feed yourself one day.”

“Yeah, well today’s not that day,” I say defiantly, folding my arms across my chest.

“I’ll be about an hour.” I can almost hear the shrug in his voice, followed by a movement behind me and the rustling of leaves.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I turn around, moving forward quickly, trying to catch a glimpse of him changing form, but all I see is what I think is a glimpse of brown fur moving at high speed.

With a sigh, I turn back, pick Nathan’s boots up off the floor and gather his clothes off the bonnet. I throw them all onto the driver’s seat, climb onto the passenger seat and lock myself in the car.

I might be stronger than I used to be but I’m still a girl and I need to feel safe, and currently I’m sitting in the middle of the woods all alone with Nathan off God knows where. I lean over, put the keys in the ignition, and turn the music on. The Killers CD has come to an end and the changer moves onto the Kings of Leon. I recline my seat back, rest my feet up on the dashboard and let the dulcet tones of Caleb Followill wash over me.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know I can hear a tapping on my window. I open my eyes to see Nathan’s bright green ones staring down at me. Sleep driven, I fumble to sit up and wind the window down.

“Can you pass me my clothes?” he asks impatiently.

I lean over, grab his clothes and hand them over, desperately trying to ignore the fact he’s still completely naked out there, not that I can see anything waist down anyway.

That actually sounded like disappointment in my head. Just when exactly did I turn into a sex fiend?

Nathan quickly pulls his clothes on and makes his way around to the driver’s side. He picks his boots up off the seat, jumps into the car and slips his feet into them.

He looks fresher. His cheeks are flushed and he seems, I don’t know, I guess I’d say lighter, not as tense as he normally does.

“Was your hunt okay? I ask as I put my seat back up to vertical.

“Yeah, it was good.” He turns the engine, shifts the car into reverse, and starts to manoeuvre it around. It takes him a good few attempts as the track is quite narrow.

“And you … fed?” I ask tentatively.

He casts a glance my way. “Mmm.”

“But you don’t need to feed like I do.”

“No.”

“So why?”

“Natural thing for me to do. Are you warm?” he asks, changing the subject.

“I’m okay.”

“I’m hot. You mind if I put the air con on?”

“No.” I shake my head.

As he leans over to turn it on, his bare arm brushes against mine and I get that electric shock sensation again. This time I do jump away from him. I feel like I’ve just been scalded. My arm is sizzling where he touched it and my heart is thumping in my chest.

He gives me an inquisitive look. My face flushes. I turn away and stare out of the window, confusion plaguing me. Why do I get that sensation when he touches me? Maybe it’s something to do with me being a Vârcolac. Yeah, that’s probably it.

Nathan turns on the air con and I now welcome it. I feel him press down on the accelerator, picking up speed and I watch as the trees and bushes whizz by. When I start to feel calmer and cooler, thanks to the air con, I say to him, “Your tattoo’s nice.”

He glances at me intermittently. “You noticed that, huh?”

“Hard not to,” I reply, raising an eyebrow. He laughs. I smile back. “What does the lettering mean?” I ask.

He takes a deep breath, pressing his lips together into a tight line, and I wonder if I’m asking too many questions again. “It’s the names of the people I saved in Iraq,” he says in a low voice.

“It’s in Arabic?” I inquire.

He gives me a long curious look. “Yeah, you speak Arabic?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I just recognised it. My ex, he had some tattoos. He liked script. Guess I don’t need to ask why you went for Arabic?” I add, looking to move the subject away from Eddie.

He chuckles to himself. “Actually that had nothing to do with it.” He slides me a look. “I got it ‘cause it looked the nicest.” His face breaks out into a grin and I replace myself laughing.

“Wasn’t one of them your friend?”

“Yeah, Craig. His name’s first on the list. He’s the reason I have the tattoo. He got me drunk, talked me into it. It sounded like a good idea at the time.” He grins again.

“Well I bet you’re his best friend nowadays. I know if someone saved my life I’d … ” I stop abruptly, never finishing the sentence which has just sucked all the air right of the car.

I stare back out of the window and Nathan says nothing.

Then it hits me. I’ve laughed and smiled with Nathan and I haven’t felt guilty once. For some reason, being with him keeps it at bay.

I sly a glance at him. He’s staring straight ahead. His jaw is set, his whole body tense. He’s feeling uncomfortable because of what I’ve just said. Emotion ripples through me for him.

And right now I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.